Vision of Salvius (6th Century Monk)

Although I am fain to continue this History from the point reached in the foregoing books, a feeling of veneration bids me first say somewhat on the death of the holy Salvius, who died, as is well known, in this year.¹ As he himself used to relate, he remained long a layman, pursuing wordly affairs, yet never enslaved by the passions wont to snare the mind of youth. But when the sweet breath of the Spirit had touched his heart, he abandoned the world’s service and entered a monastary. Now, in his maturity, given wholly to divine things, he knew it better to bear poverty in the fear of God, than to follow after the gains of this transient world. He dwelled long in his monastery under the rule instituted by the Fathers. But on the death of the abbot presiding over that house, he accepted the charge of feeding the flock, being then in the full force of his age and his powers. But just when, as abbot, he ought to have gone more among the bretheren than before for their admonishment, he in fact became more distant. He sought out a more secret cell, though even in the former one, as he himself used to declare, he had been so consumed by excess of fasting that his skin had been renewed more than nine times. Despite his new dignity, he remained content with this frugality, ever occupied with prayer and reading of the Scriptures; but the thought kept coming into his mind that it were better for him to live wholly hidden among his monks, than to bear the title of abbot in the sight of men. Enough said. He became an anchorite, bidding the brothers farewell, and himself receiving their last greetings. In this utter seclusion he lived in greater abstinence than ever; but was careful, in obedience to the law of charity, to give all guests from without his prayers, and with readiest kindliness to offer them bread of oblation, by which many a time sick men were made whole.

Upon a day, when he lay upon his bed exhausted by much fever and gasping for breath, lo! the cell shone with a great light, and was shaken. But he stretched forth his hands to heaven, and in the act of giving thanks breathed forth his spirit. The monks and his own mother, blending their lamentations, bore out his body, washed it, robed it, and placed it on the bier; then, chanting psalms and shedding tears, they watched out the livelong night. But at dawn, when all was made ready for the burying, the body stirred upon the bier. And behold, colour came back to his cheeks; he roused himself as one startled from a deep sleep, and openeing his eyes and lifting up his hands, he cried: “O Lord of mercy, what hast Thou done to me, suffering me to return to this dark place of our earthly habitation, when it were better for me to know Thy compassion in heaven than the worthless life of this world.” While all stood amazed, asking what so great a miracle should mean, he answered them nothing, but rose up from the bier, feeling no ill trace of the malady from which he had suffered, and remained three days without food or drink. On the third day he called to him the monks and his mother, and spoke thus: “Hearken, beloved and understand that the things which ye behold in this world are naught; they are even as Solomon the prophet sang: “All things are vanity.”² Happy is he who hath so wrought in the world as to behold the glory of God in heaven.” Having said this, he hesitated whether he should continue, or keep silent. And as he held his peace, the brothers prayed him urgently to describe what he had seen, so he went on as follows: “When, four days ago, the cell shook, and ye saw me lifeless, two angels took me up, and bore me to the height of heaven until I seemed to have beneath my feet, not this squalid earth alone, but the sun and moon, that shone more brightly than this daylight, into an abode whose floor gleamed like gold and silver, where was light ineffable, and spaciousness beyond all telling. It was filled with such a throng of spirits without sex that the eye was all unable to embrace the multitude of them in its length and breadth. And when the angels who guided me had made a way for us through the press of them, we came out to a place upon which we had gazed from the distance, where there hung a cloud more luminous than all light, where neither sun nor moon nor star was to be seen, but it shone more splendid than natural light; and a voice proceeded from the cloud like the voice of many waters. There I, sinner than I am, was greeted in lowly wise by men in priestly and lay apparel; these my guides declared to be martyrs and confessors, whom here on earth we honour with the humblest worship. As I stood on the spot where I was bidden, there came over me a fragrance of such exceeding sweetness, that after the refreshment of it I needed neither food nor drink. And I heard a voice saying: “Let this man go back into the world, since our churches have need of him.” The voice indeed was heard, but He who spake might in no wise be seen. Then I prostrated myself upon the pavement, and cried with tears: “Alas, Lord, alas! wherefore hast Thou shown me these things to take them from me? For behold Thou dost cast me out to-day from before Thy face to return to the perishable world without power to come hither again. O Lord, take not me from Thy mercy, I entreat Thee, but suffer me, I beseech Thee, here to abide, lest falling to earth again, I perish.” And the voice which spake to me said: “Go in peace. For I shall be thy guardian until I bring thee back into this place.” Thereupon, forsaken by my companions, and descending with tears through the gate by which I had entered, I came hither once again.” As he said these words, all present were amazed, but the holy man of God wept and proceeded thus: “Woe is me that I have dared to reveal so great a mystery. For behold the sweet fragrance which I drew from that holy place, by which I was sustained three days without food and drink, is gone back from me. Moreover my tongue is covered with sores, and so swollen that it seemeth to fill all my mouth. And I know that it was not well pleasing to the Lord my God that these mysteries should be revealed. But thou knowest, Lord, that from singleness of heart and not from vainglory I did this thing. But I pray Thee to have mercy and not to forsake me, according to Thy promise.” After these words he said no more, and received food and drink. Now, as I write down these things, I fear that they may seem beyond belief to some who read; as Sallust, the historian says: that when we record the virtue of the glory of good men, the reader will readily approve such things as he deems that he himself might do, but such things as are beyond these he hold untrue.³ Now I call Almight God to witness that everything here related I myself heard from the lips of Salvius.

[Gregory of Tours, 590 A.D.]

The History of the Franks, Gregory of Tours (Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1927), p. 285-288.

1. 10th September, 584 A.D. ↩︎
2. Eccles. i. 2. ↩︎
3. Catiline, ch. 3. ↩︎