The Life of Saint Martin · Chapter XXVII
Conclusion: A luminous face and the answer to the envious bishops
No one ever saw Martin lose his temper, no one ever saw him out of control, cast down by sadness or helpless with laughter: he was always the same serene man, with so luminous a joy stamped on his face that he seemed to be living already beyond the human condition. On his lips there was only the name of Christ; in his heart there was room for nothing but goodness, peace and compassion. Often he would even weep for the sins of those who said the vilest things about him behind his back and who, while he lived quietly in his corner doing no one any harm, bit him with the venomous tongues of vipers.
The truth is that we ourselves came to know some of those men full of envy of his life and his integrity — people who hated to see in Martin the qualities they did not have in themselves nor had the courage to imitate. And the saddest and most shameful thing — it is painful even to write it! — is that those few persecutors were almost all bishops! But there is no point in giving their names here, however much they go about barking around us: it is quite enough that, if any of them reads these pages and sees that the cap fits, he should be filled with shame; for if he starts shouting and flies into a rage, he will be confessing all by himself that it was he we were talking about — when perhaps we actually had others in mind!
For the rest, if there are people of that sort who come to hate us too for defending a man like Martin, we accept that hostility as an honour. I am absolutely certain that this little book will bring joy to all good people of sincere faith. As for the others, if anyone reads these pages with ill will and disbelief, let him settle it with his own conscience. For my part, my conscience is quite at ease: I wrote this book moved only by the certainty of what I ascertained and by love of Christ, I related well-attested facts and I told the truth. And I very much hope that God has a reward in store not only for those who read this story, but above all for those who let themselves be touched by it and believe.
We have reached the last line of Sulpicius Severus’s work — and there is an extraordinary fact here: when Sulpicius lays down his pen at the end of this Chapter XXVII, in the first months of the year 397, Saint Martin was still alive!
That is why these final chapters speak of him in the present: the book was born as a passionate defence of Martin against the worldly bishops of Gaul who despised him in the corridors of power. Notice the fine irony of the final thrust — worthy of a great courtroom lawyer: Sulpicius does not write the name of any envious bishop so that, if one of them protests in public on reading the book, he will end up putting the cap on in front of everyone!