CATHOLIC LEGENDS

New Zealand Tablet, Volume LII, Issue 42, 4 November 1925, Page 3

CATHOLIC LEGENDS

(7) THE MONKS OF LERINS,

The bell of the monastery of Lerins had rung for Matins; and at the holy summons more than 500 monks had met in the church to sing the praises of Him to whom they had vowed their lives, and of His blessed Mother, whose Assumption they were about to celebrate. Scarcely had the bell given its second signal before the fathers had gained the choir. One alone lingered : it was the abbot, who, standing at the window of his cell, looked out into the pale moonlight, and fixed his eyes intently on the mainland opposite the coast of France, as if he sought to discern some object in the distance. Sometimes, too, he seemed, straining his oar ' as if to catch a remote sound; but all was still* except the gentle murmur of the waves as they rippled to the shore of his own island, or broke against its cliffs. At last, rousing himself from his reverie, he prostrated himself on the ground, and with elapsed hands, and eyes raised to heaven, exclaimed thrice, “Thy holy will be done, 0 my God!” As soon as he had pronounced these words, the countenance of the abbot resumed its wonted serenity; and, at the third and last summons of the bell, he rose, and went to the choir, where his brethren wore awaiting him in some anxiety; for their abbot was ever wont to be first, not last, at the midnight office’. As soon as he had taken his place, the cantors intoned the invitatory: “Oh, come, let us adore the King of kings, whose Virgin Mother was this day taken up into heaven!” and all the religious repeated in chorus, “Oh, come, let us adore the King of kings, whose Virgin Mother was this day taken up into heaven!” “Oh, come,” resumed the cantors, “let us rejoice before the Lord; let us praise God our Saviour; let us come into His presence with songs of gladness, and sing hymns to His glory!”, And again the choir repeated, “Oh, come, let us adore the King of kings, whose Virgin Mother was this day taken up into heaven!” When matins were ended, the abbot robed himself in the sacerdotal vestments, and began to'offer the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, which the choir accompanied with sacred chants, now of penitence, and now of joy. One by one, their arms crossed on their breasts, the religious advanced towards the altar, to place themselves in fitting order to receive the Holy Communion. Then the abbot, holding aloft the vessel containing the Sacred Host, thus addressed his children : “My well-beloved brethren in Christ Jesus, this God who has already given His blood for you on Calvary, is now going to give you Himself. After such generosity, can you refuse Him anything? Nay. even if be should demand from each one of you the last drop of your blood, which of you would dare withhold the gift? Which of you would not burn to exchange this perishable life against the crown of immortality? In this holy solitude, you have learnt to renounce not only things external to yourselves, but even those

very selves; day by day you have been learning by practice how to sacrifice yourselves to Him who has just sacrificed Himself for you. Well, my dear children, now is the moment come when, it will be required from at least the larger number among you to consumate this sacrifice; and the holy bread you are about to receive will serve as your viaticum. Be of. good cheer, my children; the sun which is now about to rise shall never set for you ; but its light will be succeeded by the eternal brightness of the Sun of Righteousness. Jour palms are ready, your crowns are even now woven. Before the bell rung for matins this night, I was transported in spirit into this very church. You were all here with me, my children; and the guardian angel of these isles, robed in a vestment of crimson, but his brow radiant with joy, was here among us; and I saw him give first to me and then to another a branch of palm, at the same time crowning your brows with a resplendent garland. Some few only were loft out, reserved, no doubt, by the providence of God, for further conflicts. You already know, my brethren, that the Saracens have invaded Provence; their next prey will be this island of ours; he strong then, and remember that they can only reach your bodies, that your souls are treasured up for eternity. But let none among you be self-confident, and then none will be apostates. To suffer for a moment, and to enjoy for ever, such is your blessed destiny. Tho God whom you see here hidden for love of you, will soon ipanifest Himself to you in all the brightness of His glory. Come, then, unite yourselves to Him; and love shall lighten all the anguish that you may bo called upon to bear.” This address, so far from saddening the hearts of the brethren, only made their festival more joyous; and blissful tears stole down their pale cheeks. Two and two they . came forward to receive Holy Communion from the hands of their abbot, from the eldest to the youngest; and the Holy Sacrifice was scarcely completed when the sun appeared above the horizon; then they sang Lauds with more fervor than ever before; and then, at the command of their abbot, they set themselves to meditate on the Passion of Christ, and so to nerve their souls with courage to meet the coming trial. At the same time the abbot offered to conduct to a place of safety any one among them who feared death, and called to him the youngest of the monks, to the number of thirty-six, together with some children whom they had in the monastery as pensioners, and placing them on board two barques, he sent them towards the coast of Italy, after tenderly embracing them, and giving them his last benediction. They all wept, bitterly, and implored permission to stay and die with the rest; but religious obedience constrained them, and they I departed, long looking back with regretful eyes to their beloved abode, where they would so gladly have remained to earn the martyr’s crown, ” Meanwhile,, the monks who were left be-

hind busied themselves in securing, as far as they could, against pillage and destruction . n ii&th& objects they considered most valuable. M'lphey dug pits in the remotest corners of the island to hide the sacred vessels, the relics of the saints, the sacerdotal vestments, and all that could be profaned by the barbarians. ■ After this, they betook themselves to their ordinary occupations on festival days; some gave themselves to their books, others guided their flocks to the pasture-grounds, and others, again, in the scriptorium, went on with the works they had begun copying. No one seeing them thus employed, in such perfect peace and seernity, could have supposed that . they were in the immediate expectation of death. Soon, however ,a number of barques were discerned in the distance, making rapid way . towards the island; and, as they came nearer, there resounded from them loud cries of “Death to the Christians!” while at the same time a forest of Damascus blades glittered in the sun. At last they drew to land, and a throng of Saracens, armed to the teeth, leapt on shore, and pressed on towards the monastery. The religious, as we have said, in obedience , to their abbot’s commands, were silently en--1 gaged in their respective occupations, and the approach of the Saracens only shed a gleam of joy over their countenances; two of them, and no more, named Eleutherius and Colombo, overcome with fear, fled away and hid themselves in a grotto situated in the midst of a wood which skirted the eastern shore of the island. The Saracens had no sooner landed than they thronged into the narrow path which ' led to the monastery, at the gate of which knelt the abbot, in tranquil expectation, holding the cross in his hands, and praying to the Lord to give both to him and his numerous children strength to confess His holy name in the presence of His enemies, and to suffer the extremity of pain rather than renounce the faith. At the sight of the humble attitude and undisturbed serenity of the holy man, the Moors drew hack astonished but fury in a few moments took the place of amazement; they seized him and dragged him forcibly into the midst of the cloister, to make him the chief victim of their rage against the religion of Christ. Very soon they had spread themselves through church and corridors, halls and gardens, and the monks were dragged to the side of their abbot, and there guarded with drawn sabres, while the work of devastation was accomplished. Then indeed did this abode of silence resound with the clang of arms, with cries of fury, and with the confused noise of destruction; for everything that could not conveniently be carried off was brokenseats, tables, books, crosses, earthen vessels, were thrown in heaps out of the windows; and the rage of the invaders was inflamed by finding no rich booty,—nothing in any part of the -j : monastery but poverty, and simplicity. §At last the chief of the Saracens, snatching y the cross from the hands of the abbot, held 'i' it up to him, and commanded him to spit "" on it, and acknowledge Mahomet on pain of instant death. “Nay, rather,” answered the abbot meek-

ly, “give me that holy symbol, that I may cover it with kisses, too happy to die for Him Who died for me.” At that same moment the raised scymitar fell, and severed his head from his body, which was the signal for a frightful carnage; and all would have perished in an instant if the chief had not interposed, commanded his soldiers to separate the young from the old, that if they could find no booty, they miglit at least carry off a good number of slaves. Immediately about a hundred of the younger monks were put aside, and all the others massacred before their eyes* in the bone that they might thus be induced by terror to abjure the more readily the Christian religion. Then the chief thus addressed them: “See, now you are free from those old watch-dogs who guarded you; they had done with life, which has no attractions at their age, and therefore they despised it; but your brows are yet unwrinkled, now is your time for enjoyment, and I offer you the means of attaining it. Renounce the religion of Christ, and embr’ace that of Mahomet. See Moussa, ray lieutenant, was once a Christian like you, and I swear to you by the Crescent that I will treat you as I have treated him; and now 1 give you your choice between the turban and death.” “Death, death!” they all cried with one voice, and immediately began a song of thanksgiving. The chief commanded their immediate slaughter, and so they all ascended together to claim their crown, four only being reserved, whom the chief kept back for slavery. These were of lofty stature, and so beautiful that they might have been taken for angels rather than men. Meanwhile, Eleutherius :and Colombo remained hidden in their grotto, fancying every moment they heard the Saracens’ approaching, when suddenly a brilliant light shone before them, and a delicious melody rang in their ears, tokens, as they could not doubt, of their brethren having won at that moment the martyr’s crown; for, lifting their eyes, they saw, though the sun was now high in heaven, a number of brilliant stars disappearing one by one in the depths of the sky. Then Colombo said to Eleutherius: “Cowardly soldiers of Christ are we, who have fled before the enemy; and, therefore, now that our brethren have reached the port, we are still here below tossing about in the storm, and in danger of shipwreck. The thought of the eternal prize nerves my heart against the terrors of death; I will seek the Saracen: slavery or martyrdom, whichever be my lot. can nothing avail to shake my faith: I will go and try to bury my brethren; in order to pay them this last duty, I ought to risk my life.” “My brother,” answered Eleutherius. “while the Saracens are in the island it will be useless to think of burying our brethren: to attempt it will be to incur certain death. But, however, if you believe that your inspiration is of heaven, follow it, and the Lord will he your helper, covering you with brazen armor, so that you will be invincible; but for myself, I am yet too weak thus to present myself to death with deliberate purpose. The holy will of God be done.” Accordingly, after giving the farewell kiss, Colombo left the grotto, and made bis way

through the thickets to a narrow path which led to a gate of the convent-garden. He expected to find the Saracens there, and therefore armed himself by prayer before entering; but he met no one, though threatening cries framed him that he had been seen from the windows of the monastery and he reached the cloister without interruption. There a fearful sight met his eye,—heaps of dead bodies, rivulets of blood, heads separated from their trunks, limbs scattered about here and there, and in the midst, fixed on a pike, the head of the venerable abbot. At this sight he threw himself on his face sobbing; but one blow from the scymitar of a. Saracen sent him to join his brethren in heaven. How long and sad for Eleutherius was the night which followed this day of slaughter! All was profoundly still; and knowing by the silence that the Saracens must have departed, lie left his grotto in the middle of the night, and made his way to the monastery. There, thrilled with terror and grief, he stumbled every moment over the bodies of his brethren, and being unable to procure anything to make a light, was constrained to endure the additional horror of darkness for several hours, which he spent in prayer, kneeling on the sod made holy by the blood of so many martyrs. At first, his soul was wrapt in sadness at the thought that he alone was left behind, while his brethren were in glory ; hut afterwards, he felt a blessed consolation in knowing that they were all interceding in his behalf. “0 my brethren!” ho said to them, “I fled, it is true, before the face of the enemy; but I have not denied my faith, therefore you still love mel dare to hope it, and you will not forget in heaven him who is, still left on the battle-field exposed to the darts of his foe. The remembrance of your triumph will sustain my faith, strengthen my hope, and increase the fervor of my charity.” Thus he passed the night in tears and prayer; and-at last a ray of joy seemed to pierce the depths of his soul, and he burst forth involuntarily into songs of praise. His next thought was of his own present duty: and, after some reflection, he resolved to go into Italy and seek the young religious whom the holy abbot bad sent thither, in order to bring them hack and re-establish the monastery; for he hoped that the .Saracens would speedily abandon the coasts of Provence. He was absorbed in these thoughts, when he heard the distant step of a man slowly advancing by the cloister wall. His first impulse was to fly; but he remembered the holy ground on which he stood, and determined not to be again guilty of cowardice. “Let him come,” he said to himself, “Mussulman though he be; the blood which surrounds me shall support my courage”; and he threw himself once more on his knees to seek for strength in prayer. Meanwhile, the step grew more and more ' distinct, though in the twilight he could not distinguish who it was that was approaching him : but in a few moments a Moor stood beside him, and spoke. “Pear nothing, my brother,” he said, “I am no longer thine enemy. I was once a Christian; I became a renegade, but now I would return to the, faith of my fathers.

Now rise, and hear my story. I was born at Tauroento, a hundred miles from hence, | oh the shores of the Mediterranean; and I hardly thirteen when the town was itfaken and sacked by the Moors. My father, a fervent Christian and a valiant soldier, put himself at the head of the population, and held out during a siege of several months ; but at last he fell under the steel of the Mussulman; and his wife Cecilia, my mother, I saw massacred before my eyes while kneeling in prayer; and I myself, seized by her murderers, was thrown, with a great number of companions in' misfortune, into a vessel bound for Africa; there, exposed in the market like a beast of burden, I was sold to a zealous Mahometan. For two years he treated me, if not with kindness, at least without severity; and though several times he proposed to me to change my religion, yet on my refusing he left me in peace. But when I reached the age of sixteen, he attacked me more vigorously; and by dint sometimes of seducing promises, sometimes of harsh treatment, he succeeded in overcoming my resistance.’ At this avowal his speech was interrupted by sobs, and the wasted cheeks of the monk were also bathed in tears. “Alas!” he continued, “why did J not practise the constancy of these noble martyrs, and sacrifice my life rather than myj . faith! At the moment of accepting the turban I ceased to be a slave, and from that time began to live what is called a life of pleasure, but with a bitter sorrow in the depths of my heart. Some time after this, Abdal Malek set forth from Africa with an army to fight against Charles Martel, who had defeated the Mussulmans at Poitiers. ■ ’-*1 ' and I accompanied him. From this time I have added crime to crime: under the name of Moussa, I have led the Saracens on to fire, to murder, and to pillage, respecting neither age nor —pillaging churches, devastating monasteries, so that my crimes rather than my valor have raised me to the rank of lieutenant to the chief, Boalkier. 0, holy monk,” he continued, throwing himself at the feet of Eleutherius, “pray for me! I dare not myself address my prayers to heaven; it would be deaf to my voice. How can I hope pardon from a God whom 1 have so outraged!” “0 my brother,” replied Eleutherius, “the mercy of God is greater than even your crimes. The Divine ray which has just pierced the darkness of your heart, has no doubt been obtained for you by the prayers of those whose blood you have shed, and who, imitating their Divine Saviour, have prayed foi their murderers. Therefore, let hope spring up in your soul, together with repentance and penance shall restore peace and felicity to your heart.” By this time the day had dawned, am they both occupied themselves in bnryinj the bodies of the holy martyrs. In a fev days, Eleutherius set off for Italy, to brinj back the brethren whom the abbot had seni ~ t there; but the'barque which bore them hac )\y. been captured in the Gulf of Genoa by Afri ff " . can pirates, who had carried them into Spain where they had been sold as slaves. Moussa, the converted renegade, was thus

left sole guardian of Lerins. He laid aside his Mahometan costume, which he burnt in the midst of the garden, and put on a. monk’s dress, which he had found in one of the cells. From that time he devoted himself to works of penance, intending to await the re-establishment of the monastery, and to pass therein the rest of -his days with the monks whom Elentherius had gone to seek, and whom he hoped one day to see return to the convent. The Saracens, meanwhile, after their day of slaughter at Lerins, pursued the work of devastation far and near, sacking and burning towns, villages, and churches. One day, after the destruction of a church in which the whole population of a village had taken refuge, and were buried under its ruins, the chief, Boalkier, remarked, for the first time, the absence of his lieutenant, Moussa, whom he had not seen since the day at Lerins, . and inquired of him of his attendants; but none could give any account of him, for he had not communicated his design to any; so that the chief, becoming impatient, commissioned two of his soldiers to go and make inquiries concerning him. For this service lie selected two renegades, who, knowing the country, were best able to help him in his search. They were both robbers by profession. one of whom had. escaped from the public prisons, and the other was pursued by justice in consequence of a. murder which he had committed; and both had joined the Saracens in order to shield themselves from the vengeance of the law; the declaration of apostasy being to them a. mere formula, which they pronounced without any thought or conviction one way or the other. After taking counsel together, they agreed to explore first the Isle of Lerins, as it was there they had last seen Moussa. Accordingly, they took a boat, and rowed towards the monastery. As they approached the island, serious reflections began, in spite of themselves, to arise in their minds, when they contrasted the savage fury of the Saracens, which they had witnessed, with the meek endurance of the holy monks; and when they landed on the island, even yet reeking with the blood of the ’ martyrs, an emotion to which they had long been strangers stirred the very depths of their hearts, so long hardened by crime. After they had landed, they fastened their boat to a tree in silence, and ascended the narrow path leading to the cloister. . The bodies of the martyrs were no longer to he seen; but in a recess in the sanctuary was a monk praying. “Here is a man,” said one. “who has had a narrow escape; what are we to do with him?” The other made no answer. When they came up to the monk, they saw that his eyes were bathed with tears. “’Well, brother,” said they, “yon seem : to have had a visit from the Saracens; and you must think yourself lucky to he still : standing on your feet, and with your head on your shoulders. It is one of these same l Saracens that we are seeking: M'ms'a is his - name. Have you met with him “Moussa!” answered the seeming monk: “I am he, or rather I am he who once bore that name.. Do you not recognise me? Who

you are, I know well; and I know also that' I am more guilty than you, because I led you on to crime by word and by example; but since the . goodness of God gives me the opportunity of retrieving my sin so far as it is retrievable, I implore you also to leave the ways of wickedness; for there is yet time for you as well as for me. His mercy is infinite, as I am experiencing; but His wrath will indeed be dreadful if you continue in sin.” r The two renegades looked one upon another almost stupefied with astonishment. They felt as though they were dreaming, and dared not break the silence. , “What are we to do?” at last asked one of them. “What?” answered Moussa; “do as I do myself, weep and pray, and bow before the just judgment of God. Unworthy as I am, I have taken on myself this holy habit: if you too would wear it, we may be companions in penance, as we have hitherto been in sin.” “But have we not to fear the anger of our chief? He may return to this place.” “Let him return,” answered Moussa: “too happy should 1 be if I might mingle ' my blood with that which I myself shed on this holy sod.” After a moment’s hesitation the two apostates determined to remain in the island with Moussa ; and thus did the blood of the martyrs prove, as it ever has done, the “seed of the Church.”

<X> Opportunities are always before you to do good. Our pathway is one continuous garden, full of sweet, fragrant roses of opportunity. How many pass heedlessly along, feeling only the pricking of thorns. Barren, sterile, the lives that waste their precious opportunities.