Author: Roger Pearse

Another drawing of the Septizonium

Posted on by Roger Pearse

Uploaded on Easter Sunday to manuscripta.at was an interesting volume, with the description: “Salzburg, Universitätsbibliothek, M III 40, MONUMENTA ANTIQUA ROMANA — Lombardei, 4. Viertel 15. Jh.”  I.e. 4th quarter of the 15th century, 1475-1500.  It contains sketches of a number of the monuments of ancient Rome then standing, and notes about these, which seem to be in Italian.  I wish I could read these.

Via this site, I learn that this book is Giovan Maria Falconetto, Monumenta Antiqua Romana.  HMML say here that it is possibly by Giovanni Maria Falconetto.  There’s a Wikipedia article about him, but I was unable to find any information about the manuscript.

This page (f.21r) was particularly interesting:

For this is surely the ruins of the Septizonium, the monumental facade erected by Septimius Severus at the end of the Via Appia as a main entrance to the Palatine complex.  The notes on the right of the drawing look like measurements!

Wonderful to see!

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Are there any legends about the widow’s mite in medieval hagiography?

Posted on by Roger Pearse

An interesting letter from a correspondent:

… We are working on a hagiographic project to uncover and develop the story of the poor widow who offered her two coins in Mark 12 and Luke 21. We have been exploring numerous Eastern Orthodox channels and so far have found no evidence of any preexisting tradition or story around her.  To be clear, we are looking for any information about any extant tradition around the poor widow in the story; for example if there are any traditions that give her a name or more context beyond scripture…

This refers to Mark 12: 41-44:

41 Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. 42 But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a few cents.

43 Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. 44 They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.”

The catena aurea here has some comments on the passage from Bede, Theophylact, etc; these I obtained by getting the Vulgate text and doing a google search on some of the Latin words.  But all that gives me mostly is bible stuff.

Does anybody know of a medieval legend about the widow?

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An odd adverb in a miracle story of St Nicholas

Posted on by Roger Pearse

Any fool can publish a Latin text without a translation.  Few people will want to go through it, looking for problems.  But if you have to translate the text, that forces you to examine every word.  This in turn brings you immediately into contact with any problems in the text.

One of the miracle stories of St Nicholas is the “Golden Vessel”.  It exists in two versions, BHL 6172, and an epitome, BHL 6173.  I’ve already retrieved the text and translation of the latter, as it is extracted from Honorius Augustodunensis.  The story is as follows:

A powerful man living overseas makes a pilgrimage every year to Myra to the tomb of St Nicholas.  One year he commissions a well-known goldsmith to create a golden vessel, set with precious stones, as an offering to St Nicholas.  The result is a success!  In fact it’s so nice that the man feels that he’d like one too.  The goldsmith makes another, but it’s just not the same, so he hands back the raw materials to the man.  By this point the man has really become attached to the vessel, so he decides instead just to give the raw materials at the shrine.

When the time comes for his annual pilgrimage, he sets off in his ship.  But on the way he gets his son to bring him a drink in the vessel, just as the wind is getting up.  The son drops it, and it rolls overboard!  Grabbing at it in vain, the son tumbles after it.  The wind blows the ship away.  Disaster!  Rather depressed, the man rolls up at Myra, and makes his offering anyway, only for the altar to throw it back in his face!  St Nicholas isn’t amused.  So the man grovels, explains, and promises to give a much larger sum.  Then – ta-da! – the son rushes in, carrying the vessel.  St Nicholas grabbed him as he was drowning, and set him down outside Myra.  The man hands over the vessel, and “they all returned home rejoicing”, to face the credit card bill.

All this from the epitome, BHL 6173.  The story seems rather too like a cynical clerical invention, designed to extort money from the faithful, but no doubt God has already handed out spankings in and on the right quarters.

While working away on BHL 6172, however, I found myself wondering if I was doing the translation correctly.

Ille autem hoc audiens et in sua cupiditate permanens, decrevit illud aurum et gemmas pariter sancto Nicolao devehendum.

But he, on hearing this, and remaining in his cupidity, decreed that the gold and gems equally should be carried over to St. Nicholas.

The sense requires “instead”; but the word is literally “as well” or “also”.  Possibly one could wrestle it around to “in the same way”; and I do find this in the Oxford Latin Dictionary.

But I wondered whether it was simply an error in the manuscript.  The text was printed from a Namur manuscript by the Bollandists a century ago, as part of a catalogue – what excelllent chaps they were! – and has no critical value.

A quick look at the BHLms site showed 48 witnesses to this amusing story!  Many of them were manuscripts already known to me from my work on John the Deacon’s Life of St Nicholas.  Of course this is why I was working with these stories in the first place; to get a reference file together of this material, so that when using the manuscripts, I would know what I was looking at.

The oldest manuscript listed – that I have access to – was BNF lat. 5607, of the 11th century.  And on folio 83r, there’s the text, “Igitur operae pretium remur, ut ea quae nostris temporibus per eius gloriosa…”, although I see immediately that this reads “ut” where the Namur ms reads “si”.

Over the page, we find our sentence.

I.e.:

Ille autem hoc audiens, et in sua cupiditate permanens, decrevit illud aurum et gemmas pariter sancto Nicholao deferendas.

The last word is a different verb, but of very much the same sense – presented.  But “pariter” is still is.

I’m not going to trudge through any more mss, but it was worth a quick check.  So… I’ll just accept that “pariter” here means effectively “instead”.

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Gilbert H. Doble’s “Cornish Saints” series – online in Brittany

Posted on by Roger Pearse

The Catholic diocese of Finisterre in Brittany has a digital library here.  Among this material are many volumes of the “Cornish Saints” pamphlets, issued by Gilbert Doble in the 20s and 30s. Just search for “Doble” in the search bar, and up they come – 46 of them.

I stumbled on this by accident, and the series is not complete.  But it does include some of the ultra-rare French translations that he did.  For Cornish saints are often honoured in Brittany also.  Well worth knowing about!

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Some musings on “Patron Saints”

Posted on by Roger Pearse

In ordinary daily usage we hear the phrase “patron saint”.  Thus St George is the patron saint of England.  St Piran is today often called the patron saint of Cornwall, a usage that was unknown within my memory, other than to antiquarians.  St Gertrude of Nivelle is sometimes called the patron saint of cats, a usage that seems to be no older than the 20th century.  Churches have patron saints, and even “patronal dinners”.  Countries have them.  Databases have them, since Pope John Paul II designated Isidore of Seville as the patron saint of the internet.

But what does it mean?  Who are these people?  How do you get to become a patron saint?  And is it for life? – eternal life, that is?  Well, I have a few ideas, and of course I welcome correction.  But this is what seems to be the case, and how it works, whether or not we believe in it.

A patron saint is a saint who can be particularly applied to for intercession with God on behalf of a church, a city, a country, or a particular trade, or other matter.  He or she is a saint whom the person praying supposes to have a particular interest in that subject, and therefore may be particularly interested in it.  The saint may be particularly interested in prayers relating to that subject, and particularly interested in raising the matter with God himself.

The thinking behind this reflects the reality of most human societies.  You can, in theory, write a letter to the king, the emperor, the president.  But in practice such letters go nowhere, unless you are a person of influence.  The king is remote, inaccessible.  Less remote, more accessible, are members of his court: your congressman, member of parliament, etc.  He may know the emperor, or at least meet him regularly.  He may have a  special interest in certain subjects, which he can therefore plead effectively for.  The president may know that such a person cannot be ignored, at least not without adverse headlines.  At the same time the courtier will know that each request costs him political capital.  Something for something is the rule of human life.  This is true even today.  The process corresponds to reality.

But is it true?  Can those deceased in Christ respond?  The classic response to this, at least from the Catholic Encyclopedia, is that of St. Jerome, in Contra Vigilantium 6 (PL 23, col.344):

If the Apostles and Martyrs, while still in the body, can pray for others, at a time when they must still be anxious for themselves, how much more after their crowns, victories, and triumphs are won! One man, Moses, obtains from God pardon for six hundred thousand men in arms; and Stephen, the imitator of the Lord, and the first martyr in Christ, begs forgiveness for his persecutors; and shall their power be less after having begun to be with Christ? The Apostle Paul declares that two hundred three score and sixteen souls, sailing with him, were freely given him; and, after he is dissolved and has begun to be with Christ, shall he close his lips, and not be able to utter a word in behalf of those who throughout the whole world believed at his preaching of the Gospel? And shall the living dog Vigilantius be better than that dead lion?

Which is, of course, just speculation.  We do not actually know any of this.  But that’s not an area that I want to go into just yet.

So… you are a peasant, just like me.  Who do you pray to?  Well, you find a saint whom you have reason to suppose would take an interest.  The medieval legends of St Nicholas often associate him with the sea.  For a fisherman, he’s an obvious choice, the saint with whom to have a good chat about those wretched prevailing winds this season.   He’ll understand.  He spent a lot of time dealing with bad weather at sea.

Such prayer doesn’t require ecclesiastical or official approval.  You don’t have to go to an office, fill in a form, and be given permission to pray (other than, apparently, outside abortion clinics in London in 2023).  No, just pick your saint, and let fly!  If it works, tell your friends.  (A lot of saints’ lives emphasise how effective their saint is, when it comes to delivering the goods.)

You become a patron saint, in other words, because people want you to be, and pray to you as if you are.  It’s a habit that arises from popular devotion or interest.  That’s how St George becomes patron saint of England during the crusader period, when a military saint with hobnail boots is definitely required.  The people, and especially the king, treated him as such.

Of course fashion can change.  Saints can and do fall out of favour.   The status can transfer to another.

You can become the patron saint of a church through building it, in your life, and the fact being remembered.  Although if an abbey acquires your church later, it may dedicate it to someone else!  You’re more secure as the patron saint if the church also has your relics under the floor.  But it’s all down to popular interest.

Being a patron saint seems to be basically a folk custom, which still operates, as with St Gertrude for cats.  Some loose association is taken as a reason why that saint might listen particularly to prayers on that subject, and there you have it – a patron saint.

In Cornwall the villages and churches are often named after otherwise unknown saints, such as St Austell.  In the world of Celtic saints, a “saint” could be anybody who worked for the church, or – one suspects – had a particularly crisp chasuble.  Few of them are recognised by the Catholic Church at large.  In the Cornish Life of St Samson, we read of a “saint”, an abbot of Caldey island named Pirr, who dies after falling down a well while drunk.  The standard here for Celtic sainthood is very low indeed.

There are some risks associated with all this.  In any era of superstition, there are opportunities for conmen.  The Catholic church has always tried to regulate stuff to do with “holy men”, in order to protect the people from such sharks.  The church from at least the 1600s tried to avoid local, unknown, or non-existent, or disreputable saints, for fear of scandal.

Perhaps I can add a personal note here.  There are a couple of people, now gone from this world, whom I revered greatly in Christ, and have sometimes wished that I could consult.  I have at least once found myself tempted to speak to one of them in prayer.  I have resisted, for that way lies superstition; but the impulse is clearly human.

So how does it all work?  You pray to St Bloggis, St Bloggis has a word with God, and your prayer is granted, or not.  You express thanks to St Bloggis with a donation at his church.

But what if St Bloggis never actually existed?

I have never read anything about this, but it seems to me that this isn’t really a problem for the concept of patron saints.  All prayer is really directed to God.  The dead cannot actually do anything.  Behind all the pretty legends, it is God who is certainly listening.  And God is pretty tolerant of simple mistakes made by devout hearts.  He’s not a pedant.  There’s none of the pettiness of “wrongly addressed; return to sender”.

Let us imagine that the idea of praying to individual saints is valid.  Effectively each saint, then, is running a department of heaven.  Each department deals with certain subjects.  Is it beyond the wit of heaven to have a “lost prayer office”?  To designate someone to handle stuff addressed to non-existent saints, invented by human weakness, but sincerely intended?  Is it that difficult to have a “St George office”, which handles his correspondence?  Perhaps with a minor saint filling in as head of department, pro tem?  If I were God, which we may all thank Him that I am not, it would seem like a minor thing to arrange.  If saints are really just addresses, a filing system for heaven, surely we can cope with a few errors?  If pesky humans make up a saint, the subject of prayer still needs to be handled by the bureaucracy of heaven.  But of course it is better not to do this.

So I think we can be fairly relaxed about “patron saints”.  I don’t know that they correspond to any heavenly reality; but if they do, it’s fairly obvious how it would work.  It isn’t a church thing, but a popular thing.  Which is fine.  Because patron saints are still being invented.  It matters not.

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A translation of a homily by Ephraem Graecus online in English!

Posted on by Roger Pearse

Some years ago I wrote a very long article here on whether pseudo-Ephraim testifies in the 4-5th century to a belief in the Rapture; the idea that, before the Tribulation described in Revelation, the saints will all be caught up in the air by God and taken away.  This is quite a controversial subject in the USA, and this means that quite ordinary people are willing to study the question; and, therefore, they are willing to study the deeply obscure and seriously neglected texts in question.  I believe that they have been doing so since, although I find it impossible to get Google to tell me who or where; or, equally possibly, I put in the wrong search terms.

The texts in question form part of the “Ephraem Graecus” and “Ephraem Latinus” corpuses of texts, which simply get no attention.  I have a list of the Ephraem Graecus stuff here.  So it is very good for everyone that these are being worked on.  I am very much in favour of theological disputes that lead to study and translation of texts that would never otherwise be examined.  Everybody benefits.

Today a kind correspondent wrote to me about passages in Ephraem Graecus which seem to teach the doctrine of the tribulation and the rapture.  It seems that a chap named Lee W. Brainard has been blogging away, and has located and – better – translated 10 passages in the works of Ephraem Graecus that support this view!  The article, entitled “Ephraim the Syrian — Ten Undiscovered Pretribulation-Rapture Passages”, online here.

This is great!  Translations of this material is precisely what we need.  No doubt some of the translation details will be cavilled at, mercilessly criticised, etc.  This is inevitable.  It is incredibly easy to write, loftily, about “translation defects” once some poor chap has taken a machete and laboriously chopped an English version out of the uncharted forests of the raw Greek.  Doing the first translation is what sorts out the men from the boys.

But better yet, I find that Mr Brainard has plunged in and translated one homily completely!  This is CPG 3946, the “Sermo in adventum domini, et de consummatione saeculi, et in adventum antichristi”.  He has placed it online as “Ephraim the Syrian — Sermon on the Advent, the End, and the Antichrist”, here.  Needless to say, I have stashed a copy offline, in these delicate days.

Good news.  Let’s hope he does more!

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Searching for BHL 6173 and 6175 (Part 5) – the “Magnum Legendarium Austriacum”

Posted on by Roger Pearse

Our two fragments of story of St Nicholas, BHL 6173 and 6175, originate from a early 12th century sermon on St Nicholas by Honorius of Augustodunensis.  But not directly.

In the late 12th century somebody created a massive 4-volume collection of material about the saints, in saint’s day order.  Each volume contained 3 months of the year.  The manuscripts that survive are all held in Austrian collections, and so it is known as the Magnum Legendarium Austriacum, or MLA for short.  There is in fact a substantial Austrian website devoted to this text, which may be found here.  It even has a page on each saint; Nicholas is here, and even links to an early edition for the Translatio text.

It looks as if Diarmuid O’Riain is the scholar currently at work on the MLA, and his very useful “New Investigation” paper is online at Academia here.  He also has a CV here, (with quite possibly the worst photograph I have ever seen on any academic CV ever!), and is clearly doing good work.  Sadly his 2020 article “Neue Erkenntnisse zur Entstehung und Überlieferung des Magnum Legendarium Austriacum” here, pinpointing the abbey of Admont as the probable origin of the collection, is hidden uselessly behind a firewall.

The Magnum Legendarium Austriacum collection was detailed by Albert Poncelet, “De Magno Legendario Austriaco,” Analecta Bollandiana 17 (1898) 24–96, and the contents of the St Nicholas material may be found in appendix XXII, p.204-9.  Fortunately I have access to this.  Item 32, “Miraculum de vase aureo” (Miracle of the golden vessel) and item 34, “De imagine S. Nicolai” (The image of St Nicholas) are what the Bollandists list as BHL 6173 and 6175.  These excerpts themselves then appear independently in other manuscripts, as we have seen.

But it follows that the manuscripts of the Magnum Legendarium Austriacum will also contain our text.

One of the witnesses to this collection is held at Heiligenkreuz, mss. 11-14.  St Nicholas’ Day is December 6th, so it is the last volume in which we are interested, Heiligenkreuz 14, online here.  The website has a nice set of links to literature about the manuscript.  The St. Nicholas material is on f.57r to f. 65v.

Using the left menu to find the St. Nicholas stuff takes you to folio 57r.  Then clicking on “Scroll” takes you into a scrollable viewer.  I’m rather taking to this, much as I hate viewers, because it is so very fast.  Most online viewers are like wading through treacle.  I wish I could zoom in and out using the mouse-wheel on my mouse tho.

A bit of moving and I find our texts on f.64v and f.65.  I still can’t see how to download the individual pages from scroll view, nor how to flip back to the standard view while staying on f.64v.

Heiligenkruez 14, f.64v-65r, BHL 6173 and 6175.

Fortunately there is no need for me to do so.  I now have a text of these two pieces, based on what the text and translation that I made for Honorius Augustodunensis in my last post, and that will do for my purposes.

All the same the resources do exist at manuscripta.at to collate the manuscripts of the MLA at this point, and had I known of them sooner, I would have used them.

We’re still in the early days of manuscript websites.  Nobody quite knows how best to do this stuff.  The problem is compounded by the fact that website developers mostly have no idea about how they should be used by reseachers.  One day someone will figure out how to do it, and then everyone will go “Oh!  So that’s how it’s done!” and do likewise.  But I am quite grateful for how much is online now.  None of this work would have been possible even 5 years ago.

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Honorius Augustodunensis, “Sermo de S. Nicolai” now online

Posted on by Roger Pearse

I’ve just completed my translation of this early 12th century sermon, from the Speculum Ecclesiae or Mirror of the Church by Honorius Augustodunensis.  I’ve included the Latin text.  This text is the origin of the fragments BHL 6173 and 6175.  Here it is:

As usual I make these files and their contents public domain.  Do whatever you like with them, personal, educational or commercial.  I’ve also uploaded it to Archive.org here.

The start of the text in Ms. Admont 131, folio 146r.

The text is not that long, so I thought I would include the translation below.  Have fun!

    *    *    *    *

  1. “The righteous shall be in eternal remembrance: he will not be afraid of hearing bad news”.[1] All things that happen here, in the land of oblivion, are consigned to oblivion, and everything that happens under the sun slips out of memory as if dead from the heart. For in whose memory does the once rich glory of kings and tyrants now circulate? Who now remembers the magnificent cities which they built, or the celebrated inscriptions of the noble triumphal monuments which they erected?  Where now are the pomps or riches in which they abounded, and where are the executions or tortures which they inflicted on the saints?  They all have passed away like shadows, and they themselves have inherited the fire and the worm. But those who earnestly worshipped God** shall be in eternal remembrance. Their works flourish throughout all generations, and their names will live forever. For he is one spirit with God**, who adheres to him through love, and, united to him through spirit, remains with him for eternity.  Of whom Saint Nicholas is in eternal memory, because he is both famous to men on earth, and to the angels in the life eternal. He shall not fear hearing the bad news, that is, “Depart from me, O accursed, into eternal fire”,[2] but he shall rejoice forever at the sweet word, “Come, O blessed ones”.[3]
  2. This man, born of a noble lineage of the Greeks, shone with many miracles, the illustrious bishop of Myra. When newly born, he was placed in Pelium to be washed, but he stood for one hour held by no one, because obviously he was setting out on the path of the virtues.  At once the man of good character began to return home through abstinence to where our first parent was exiled from through gluttony.  For on Wednesdays and Fridays he drank only once a day from the nipples, and so the riches of the heavenly grace flowed generously to him.  But once the boundary of childhood passed, he swallowed with a thirsty heart the secrets of the heavenly life from the rivers of scripture.  Then as an adult he was bereaved of both parents, and himself was selected as the heir in accordance with the rules of inheritance.  Then in the same city there lived a noble man, who, from the greatest riches, had come down to the deepest poverty.  He determined that his three daughters, outstanding in their appearance, should be prostituted, so that through them he might at least earn a living.  Nicholas redeemed them with gold, and he kindly took away indeed the poverty of the father, and infamy from the girls, but he acquired heavenly riches for himself.  In the meantime the church of Myra was widowed by the death of its shepherd, but the devout flock demanded from God that a worthy shepherd should be placed in charge of it. But the Good Shepherd quickly comforted the desolate flock, suggesting to a certain saint that Nicholas was designated by God as the bishop.  By the election of the clergy and the people, he was established as a wise and faithful steward over the Lord’s family, and soon the brightness of his virtues was diffused everywhere.  His delightful reputation was also spread throughout the world, through which people were drawn in droves to see him from every quarter.
  3. A ship laden with people was brought to him by sail, which, battered by a fierce storm, threatened the sailors with the danger of shipwreck. Agitated they called upon Nicholas, and, appearing to them immediately, he calmed the sea from the fury of the abating storms. And they all gave thanks to him whom the winds and the sea obey.[4]
  4. This saint demolished the temple of Diana, because the devil tried to avenge himself by means of a strategem of the following sort. A ship filled with a crowd going to him [St N] was sailing the sea, when, behold!, the devil brought to it a vessel of oil in the shape of Diana, piteously begging them to convey this liquid to repair the lamps for his saint, and complaining that there were many things that hindered him from going to him himself.  They accepted the oil and were rowing into the middle of the sea, when, behold! a voice cried out from above, that they should throw away the oil given by the woman,[5] and know that the giver of it was the devil.  But as soon as the oil was thrown out, it instantly caught fire in a wave of unnatural flames. Then while they were crying out in fear, Nicholas appeared, and immediately the fraud disappeared.  Then the people sang praises to him, who rescued them from the boiling pot of the sea.
  5. At a certain time a very strong famine had invaded the country, and it had afflicted the people of Nicholas as much as possible. In the meantime royal ships laden with wheat were passing through the country, from which the man of God had obtained several bushels of wheat.  Out of this he distributed abundantly to all the people, and the sailors arriving at the shore found that the quantity of wheat was the same as if they had given nothing.  In this he imitated He who fed many thousands of people with a few loaves of bread, and from the fragments left over there was more than was supplied.
  6. Again at another time, three young men, unjustly accused by the proconsul, out of anger, or rather avarice, were condemned to death.[6] On hearing this, the bishop of God came as quickly as possible, and delivered them from imminent destruction. At another time, three noble men were accused of a plot to the emperor Constantine, because of envy, and by the emperor they were condemned.[7] They were put in prison, and cried out to Nicholas, and he immediately placated Constantine in his dreams with threats and terrors concerning their destruction.  The emperor awakened and called together the nobles, revealed the vision, and ordered the youths to be released without delay.  But they praised the mercy of the deliverer who had rescued them from the hand of a more powerful man.
  7. With these and many other glorious signs brought to completion, he is associated with the King of Glory in eternal glory. But it is related that the marble of his tomb perspires, with liquid oil.  If anyone who is sick is anointed with it, immediately sickness is expelled and health is restored.  O wonderful power of Christ!  As far as the east is from the west, and as far as the light differs from the darkness, so far are the rewards of the righteous different from reprobates.  For just as oil is said to seep from his tomb, so the sarcophagus of Julian the apostate is said to sweat a foul and putrid tar.  At a certain time the bishop of the same see was driven out of the city because of envy, and immediately the drop of the sacred liquor was restrained; and once he was received in his own seat, at once the healthy flow of drops was restored to those rejoicing.
  8. Also a certain powerful man ordered a noted goldsmith to make a golden vessel, which he assigned to be offered to St. Nicholas in fulfilment of a vow. As the artist carved it in a wonderful manner, and set it with various gems, the man admired the remarkable work, and decided to retain it for his own uses.  And he wanted another vessel to be made, just like the former, which he assigned to be taken to St. Nicholas.  The goldsmith, however, used the utmost care, but in no way could he adorn it in the same way as the former.  But when the work had not progressed at all, the man took the same gold, and entered the ship with his wife and son, and many others, and he thought to offer the gold to St. Nicholas instead of the vessel.  But having passed through the greatest part of the ocean, he was thirsty, and he wished to drink from the golden vessel which he had wrongfully kept for himself.  His son, accepting that only he was allowed to touch this, kept washing it in the waves.  But it slipped from the hand of the unwary youth, and he, trying to catch it, was drowned by the waves of the sea.  After this accident, they all reached the harbour in great sorrow, and sadly they entered the basilica of St. Nicholas.  The master laid the offering on the altar, but, rejected by God, it bounced off a long way.  Everyone was astounded, and he recounted in order how he had retained for himself the vessel promised, and for this reason he had lost his son with the vessel at sea, and then the saint refused to accept the offering.  Wherefore, when all were praising God and Saint Nicholas, while the father and mother were weeping heavily for their guilt and the loss of their son, and were multiplying their vows, behold, suddenly the young man rushed in alive with the vessel, who, to the astonishment of all, said that Saint Nicholas had appeared to him in the waters, and had taken him out while he was sinking in the sea, carried him unharmed to the shore, and had led him to his church.  All of them, astonished, praised God again and again in all things, who alone does wonderful things.[8]  And so the father of the young man presented the vessel with precious gifts to St. Nicholas, and happily returned home with his family.
  9. A certain rich merchant also lived lavishly and imprudently, whose carelessness brought him to the last poverty. He asked a Jew to give him money as a loan.  The Jew said to him that, if he put down security, he would lend him the money as he asked.  He said that he did not have security, unless perhaps he was willing to accept Nicholas as a guarantor.  The Jew said, “I hear that Nicholas is trustworthy; I accept this guarantor.” So he gave gold to the Christian man, keeping Nicholas as security.  But after that abundance of money grew, the Jew demanded back the money given.  He asked him for a delay in repaying, and the Jew still consents, waiting for three repayments.  Then he refused to return the money, and swore that he had returned it [already].  The matter was aired before the judges, and it was promulgated by law that he should either pay the money now, or be denied the sacrament.  And so the Christian handed the gold received, cunningly enclosed in a staff, to the Jew to carry, and went with him and a crowd of all the people to the church of St. Nicholas to swear an oath.  When he arrived at the altar, which he had given as security, he swore that he had given back the gold that he had received as a loan.  But then the Jew said, “I trust that Nicholas will vindicate me.”  Then he received the staff from the Jew, and he returned home laughing with his family.  He was immediately punished by divine retribution, because he was priding himself on his neighbour’s injury.  For on the journey a great drowsiness seized him, so that he thought that he would breathe out his soul unless he slept a little.  And so he placed himself to sleep at the crossroads, placing the staff beside him.  And behold, an laden wagon arrived, which could not turn aside in either direction.  And when the cowherds were unable to rouse the snoring man either by shouting or beating, they carried on over the one held down by a lethal sleep with the vehicle, and crushed the cast-down soul and the fraudulent [staff].  When they saw that gold glittered from the broken staff, the matter was revealed to all, and for which crime he lay dead by the judgement of God.  As people came together from all sides, the gold was returned to the Jew.  He entered the church with the people, and praises resounded to God and St. Nicholas.  Then he bound himself with an oath that, if his rival’s life was restored, he himself would immediately be washed in baptism.  O the mercy of Jesus Christ! O the merits of St. Nicholas! After they sang these praises, the man, with all his limbs broken in death, walked in alive, and he confessed his guilt before all.  On seeing this, the Jew, with all his household, was united to our faith.  Christ the Lord and his faithful servant Nicholas were praised by all with loud voices.
  10. Likewise, a pagan tax-collector had an image of St. Nicholas, to whom, going out on a certain day, he entrusted his money. But in the night the robbers came and took away all the man’s money. When he returned to find the money taken away, he filled the house with great howls.  Then, taking a whip, he cut down the image, and demanded back the money from it.  Meanwhile, as the robbers were dividing the plunder, St. Nicholas appeared, and by threats and terrors forced them to carry back everything in the night.  Then the tax-collector, on rising in the morning, and seeing his money, was filled with joy, and embraced the image and kissed it.  St Nicholas appeared to him and warned him about the salvation of his soul.  He was immediately baptized with all his people, and having built a church in honour of St Nicholas, he became a servant to Christ the Lord with praises.
  11. While the body of this excellent pontiff was being transferred from Myra to Bari, it was glorified by many glorious miracles. Indeed in less than a week, the blind, deaf, dumb, lame, withered, demoniacal and those exhausted by other ailments, to the number of a hundred and twelve men were restored to health by his merits. Whom God thus magnified among men, and exalted among the saints.  Let us call upon him, dearest, with praises, and seek access to him with prayers, so that God may not destroy our souls with the wicked, and our lives with men of blood, but that we may hear the voice of praise with the saints, and be able to tell of all the wonderful things of the Lord.  What the eye has not seen…[9]

THE END[10]

[1] Ps. 111:7.

[2] Matt. 25.

[3] Matt. 25.

[4] Matt. 8.

[5] In the full-length version of the story, the devil disguised himself as an old woman unable to go on pilgrimage.

[6] The 1531 edition has a different text for this sentence.  “At another time the army of the Emperor Constantine had ravaged the country, had captured three noble young men, and condemned them to death.”

[7] In the 1531 edition, this sentence is replaced by: “They were surrendered by the Emperor’s army and were treated with due honour. But in the course of time they were made the subject of an accusation out of envy, and by the Emperor condemned.”

[8] Ps. 135.

[9] I.e. “But, as it is written: What the eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man, what things God hath prepared for them that love him.” – 1 Cor. 2:9

[10] This added by me.

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From my diary

Posted on by Roger Pearse

I’ve been doing a bit of a side-project for the last couple of days.

The short St Nicholas legends (reference BHL 6173 and 6175), that I have been working on, in fact derive – via the Magnum Legendarium Austriacum, of which more next week-  from the sermon on St Nicholas included by Honorius of Augustodunensis in his Speculum.  This is so obscure that I felt drawn to translate that sermon.  I turned the Migne text into an electronic text, and then quickly found evidence that it was dodgy.  The only other edition was the 1531 editio princeps, which looked rather better, so I collated the two.  These differed enough that I felt obliged to consult a couple of manuscripts, chosen at random.  Inevitably I ended up with a 4-way collation.

I have just finished the translation, and I will review it and upload it, with the text and collation, next week.  Then it’s back to BHL 6173, although there’s not much more to do there.

Isn’t it odd that there is no obvious way to create a collation in Microsoft Word (or in this blogging tool, WordPress)?

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Searching for BHL 6173 and 6175 (Part 4) – A couple of manuscripts of the Speculum of Honorius of Augustodunensis

Posted on by Roger Pearse

There are manuscripts of the Speculum of Honorius of Augustodunensis around online.  Here’s one at a library in Madrid, and a PDF can be downloaded from here!  The site, curiously, is silent about what library this item belongs to, or the shelfmark. That’s… awkward.

At the mighty BSB in Munich, there’s another one here, although it’s a scan of a microfilm.  No messing about on the web page tho: the header tells us this is BSB Clm 2581.  You can download the whole thing in PDF too, although somewhat slowly.

At e-Codices, where lurk the St Gall manuscripts, sure enough there’s another one here.  It’s Ms. Sang. 1075.  No PDF download tho.  Pleasingly, the URL reflects the shelfmark, as they all should.

But I want to avoid sliding off and editing or translating Honorius, or even the terribly tempting habit of collecting mss in PDF.  However I am transcribing the S. Nicholas bit of the Speculum – after all, I do need the Latin text for the extracts that are listed as BHL 6173 and BHL 6175.

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