Sulpicius Severus' Vita Martini 0199676224, 9780199676224

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Sulpicius Severus’ Vita Martini E D IT E D BY

PHILIP BURTON

OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS

Preface

OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS Great Clarendon Street, Oxford, 0X2 6DP, United Kingdom Oxford University Press is a departm ent of the University of Oxford. It furthers the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education by publishing worldwide. Oxford is a registered trade mark of Oxford University Press in the UK and in certain other countries © Philip Bruton 2017 The moral rights of the author have been asserted First Edition published in 2017 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in witting of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted by law, by licence or under terms agreed with the appropriate reprographics rights organization. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the address above You must not circulate this work in any other form and you must impose this same condition on any acquirer Published in the United States of America by Oxford University Press 198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016, United States of America British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data Data available Library of Congress Control Number: 2016953994 ISBN 978-0-19-967622-4 Links to third party websites are provided by Oxford in good faith and for information only. Oxford disclaims any responsibility for the materials contained in any third party website referenced in this work.

This edition began in notes produced for students in the Universities of St Andrews and Birmingham with whom I had the pleasure of reading the Vita Martini. I would like to thank those students for reminding me constantly of what matters to them. I hope our shared experience may be of use to others who set out to read this fascinating text in their turn. In preparing this edition, I have received encouragement and helpful suggestions from many quarters. I would like to thank especially the likeminded colleagues I have met at various conferences over recent years, and in particular the Latin tardif—latin vulgaire community, and the people who attended the 2014 Manchester conference on classical and later Latin, and the 2015 Edinburgh conference on hagiography as literature. My thanks go also to my colleagues in the University of Birmingham, in the Institute for Textual Scholarship and Electronic Editing, and in the Department of Classics, Ancient History and Archaeology. I am particularly indebted to fellow-members of the Staff Work in Progress seminar for their attention to detail and their candour. The University kindly gave me research leave to enable me to complete this work. I am also grateful to the members of staff in the University Library in Birmingham and University Library, the Faculty of Classics, and the Faculty of Divinity in the University of Cambridge for their patience and good humour, and to the readers and editors of Oxford University Press for their acumen and eye for detail. I have avoided names, lest, as Severus somewhere says, I glut my reader with superabundance; but I should thank in particular Gillian Clark for her encouragement at the beginning of the project, and Karen Raith and her colleagues, and Malcolm Todd and Dorothy McCarthy in particular, for their patience and good humour at the end. Philip Burton

Map 1. Martin’s Gaul. Source: St. Martin and his Hagiographer (1983) by Clare Stancliffe. Used by permission of Oxford University Press.

Source: St. M artin and his Hagiographer (1983) by Clare Stancliffe. Used by permission of Oxford University Press.

M ap 2. South-W est Gaul c.380-400.

Contents Note on Background Reading Note on Biblical Texts

xiii XV

Introduction Sulpicius Severus Chronology and Historicity of the Vita Martini The ‘Genre of Hagiography’ Typology in the New Testament Typology in the Vita Martini The Style of the Vita Martini Notes on the text

1 1 9 25 32 37 40 81

Vita Martini Text and Translation

91

Commentary

131

Bibliography Index Rerum et Nominum Index Locorum Citatorum Index Locorum Biblicorum

261 281 285 293

Note on Background Reading Sulpicius Severus’ Vita Martini is its own best introduction. However, as some readers may not necessarily be familiar either with the late antique world or with early Christianity, what follows is a selective guide to other reading, mostly Anglophone or in translation. Those looking for general background in late-antique studies may derive pleasure and profit from Peter Browns The World of Late Antiquity, ad 150-750 (1971) and The Making of Late Antiquity (1978), from Averil Cameron’s The Later Roman Empire (1993), from Stephen Mitchell’s A History of the Later Roman Empire (2007), and from Gillian Clarks Late Antiquity: A Very Short Introduction (2011). There are many books on early Christianity. Among the older English works we may note William Frend’s The Early Church (1965) or Henry Chadwick’s work of the same name (1967). More recent ones include Mark Humphries’ Early Christianity (2006), Josef Lössl’s The Early Church: History and Memory (2010), and Morwenna Ludlow’s The Early Church (2009). On Christianity’s transition from fringe to mainstream religion, see Robert Markus, The End of Ancient Christianity (1991). On the early history of the ascetic and monastic movements, see Derwas J. Chitty, The Desert a City (1966), Peter Brown, The Body and Society: Men, Women, and Sexual Renunciation in Early Christianity (1988), and William Harmless, Desert Christians (2004). On monks and bishops, see Philip Rousseau, Ascetics, Authority, and the Church (2010) and Claudia Rapp, Holy Bishops in Late Antiquity (2005). Two authors remain essential for the wider study of Severus and Martin: Jacques Fontaine, for his edition of the Vita Martini (1967-9) and of the Dialogues of Sulpicius Severus (2006), and Clare Stancliffe, for her St Martin and his Hagiographer (1983). Where these works do not supersede earlier scholarship, they serve as the best introduction to it. A little reading will soon reveal a shift in perspective in the half-century covered by the literature listed above. The study of late antiquity has increasingly taken its place as part of the study of the ancient Mediterranean generally. At the same time, the disciplines of ‘patristics’ and church history’, traditionally researched and taught in university departments of theology and in religious institutions, have grosso modo been supplemented or supplanted by the wider discipline of early Christian studies’, largely taught in departments of classics or ancient history. A sure-footed account of this process maybe found in Elizabeth A. Clarks essay ‘From Patristics to Early Christian Studies’, in the excellent Oxford Handbook o f Early Christian Studies edited by Susan Ashbrook Harvey and David Hunter (2008). For an example of this approach in action, see Gillian Clark, Christianity and Roman Society (2004).

Note on Background Reading Primary sources remain, of course, primary. On the Roman Empire in the mid to late fourth century, there is no substitute for the works of Ammianus Marcellinus (a selective translation by Walter Hamilton, with introduction and notes by Andrew Wallace-Hadrill, is published by Penguin). For general background on Christianity up to the age of Constantine, it is hard to get round Eusebius of Caesarea’s Ecclesiastical History (translated by G. A. Williamson in Penguin as The History of the Church, with an introduction by Andrew Louth)—even though Eusebius’master-narrative of Christian triumph is some way from current historical orthodoxy. Eusebius’ Life of Constantine (edited and translated by Averil Cameron and Stuart Hall) is likewise a central work for our understanding of church/state relations in the fourth century, and ofFers a very different view of the matter from that found in Severus’writings. Also useful for comparison and contrast with the Vita Martini is the Life o f Antony, Athanasius’ classic biography of the ascetic holy man, conveniently available in Carolinne White’s (1992) Penguin volume on Early Christian Lives (which also includes Jerome’s Lives of Paul of Thebes, Hilarion, and Malchus, along with Severus’ Vita Martini and Gregory the Great’s Life of Benedict). By the late fourth century, there is a great body of Christian writing, much of it available in translation online. Martin and Severus are very peripheral figures in this, but Paulinus of Nola saw the former as a master and the latter as a friend; his Letters, translated (with notes) by Peter Walsh ( 1967), are available in the Ancient Christian Writers series. No work dramatizes the intellectual and emotional conflicts of the age better than the Confessions of Augustine o f Hippo (numerous translations available), a work exactly contemporary with the Vita Martini. For those seeking information on general points of background, there are various encyclopedias and reference works. We have mentioned Harvey and Hunter’s Oxford Handbook o f Early Christian Studies; there is also the excellent Encyclopedia o f Early Christianity edited by Everett Ferguson (second edition, 1997) and the Encyclopedia of Ancient Christianity edited by di Berardino and others (2014). On the classical world, The Oxford Classical Dictionary edited by Simon Hornblower, Antony Spawforth, and Esther Eidinow (fourth edition, 2012) is the standard one-volume reference work. There are various useful essays in the Companion to Late Antiquity edited by Philip Rousseau (2009), and Glen Bowersock, Peter Brown, and Oleg Grabar’s Late Antiquity: A Guide to the Postclassical World (1999).

Note on Biblical Texts Unless otherwise stated, biblical citations are taken from the Latin Vulgate, in the so-called ‘Stuttgart edition’, edited by R. Weber et al. It is not suggested that Sulpicius Severus himself used this (indeed, much of it he could not have used), but that this is the most conveniently available Latin text for the period around a d 400; in most cases his text is likely to have been recognizably similar to that of the Vulgate as we know it.1Severus’biblical references are in any case typically brief and oblique, often combining more than one passage and sometimes apparently seeking deliberate variation on a familiar form of text. This makes it very difficult to identify his citations and allusions with specific known forms of text from antiquity, and I have made no attempt to do so here. For the most part, I have taken the Latin Bible to be primary; that is to say, I have generally preferred to cite it rather than the presumed underlying Greek or Hebrew text. Where translations are given, they are my own. I have been inconsistent in the matter of book titles. In most cases I have used the familiar English ones, which are close enough to the Latin to present no great problem; thus e.g. John and Hebrews rather than secundum Iohannem or ad Hebraeos. However, in the following cases, where no such transparent connexion exists, I have preserved the Latin titles: 1-2 Regnorum = 1-2 Samuel 3-4 Regnorum = 1-2 Kings 1-2 Paralipomenon = 1 -2 Chronicles For the Book of Psalms I have followed the text of Jerome’s Psalterium iuxta LXX, that is, the Latin version made on the basis of the Greek Septuagint, rather than his Psalterium iuxta Hebraeos. I have followed also the Latin numbering of the Psalms, rather than the familiar English one. Thus: Vulgate 1-8 9 10-112 113 114-15 116-45 146-7 148-50

English 1-8 9-10 11-113 114-15 116 117-46 147 148-50

On the Latin Bible, especially the New Testament, see now the work of Houghton (2016).

Introduction SULPICIUS SEVERUS The fullest picture we have of the life of Sulpicius Severus comes from his correspondence with Paulinus, the famous bishop of Nola (Epistles 1, 5, 11, 17, 22-4, 27-32).' The most obvious biographical information is found in Paulinus’ Epistle 5.4ff. Here we learn that Severus embarked on an ascetic life at a rather younger age than Paulinus himself had done (Epistle 5.4-5, mihi aetas provectior... tu ... aetate florentior). Paulinus had been in his late thirties, perhaps forty, when he did this. Given that Severus is already an ascetic by the time of Paulinus’ first extant letter to him, in 395, a birth-date of around 360 has generally been felt to fit the available facts. From the same letter we learn that Severus was born into a wealthy family (substantia facultatum non egentior, says Paulinus), though apparently not, like Paulinus’, of senatorial rank. We learn that Severus had behind him a successful career as a lawyer, enjoying fame in the courts and holding the palm for eloquence’(fori celebritate diversans et facundi nominis palmam tenens). We hear also that he gained further wealth from his marriage into a consular family (divitiae de matrimonio familiae consularis aggestae). We know little about this marriage except for the fact that it ended, and that Severus, though still in the prime of life, avoided the ‘licence to sin’ that his single condition afforded (post coniugium peccandi licentia et caelebs iuventas). We do not know how Severus became acquainted with Paulinus. As we will see, Severus seems, like Paulinus, to have been from south-west Gaul; they may have met at Bordeaux, where Paulinus at least was educated. Paulinus’ Epistle 1, written shortly after his ordination at Christmas 394, presumes a close friendship between the two, though there are no reminiscences of a shared youth. At some point around this time Severus became acquainted with Martin, the ascetic and controversial bishop of Tours, and went to visit1

1 The basic biographical data are collected in Martindale (1980:1006). liiere are various fuller accounts (e.g. Peebles 1949:79-100, Fontaine 1967:17-58, Stancliffe 1983:15-19,30-8,deVogüé 1997, especially 183ff; appealing older accounts in Babut 1912: 23-54 and N. Chadwick 1955: 89-121) which attempt to contextualize his life more; but these are all based on the same small corpus of material. For a wider contextualization of Martin within the political and intellectual currents of his day, see van Dam (1985: 119-41). There is an excellent English translation of Paulinus, with notes, by Walsh (1967); on Paulinus and his circle more generally, see Lienhard (1977), Trout (1999), Conybeare (2000).

Sulpicius Severus

3

Introduction him.2Around this time too he withdrew from his legal career and began to sei off his family estates. The account he gives in the Vita Martini 25 strongly suggests that this was the result of Martin’s urgings and Paulinus’ example. We can date the beginning of this process to 394, as Paulinus refers to it in his Epistle 1.1, written in spring 395.3His mother-in-law Bassula supported him in this, though his father did not (Paulinus, Epistle 5.6).45He seems quickly to have established a religious community of his own, the ‘holy sons’ that Paulinus mentions in his Epistle 11.4, of 397. From the same letter we learn that Severus has been working on a Life o f Martin, which Paulinus praises, while showing something like jealousy at Severus’ frequent visits to Martin and his comparative neglect of him self (Epistle 11.1 l-13).s This, along with the infrequency of Severus’letters, leads to a breach of sorts between the two men in late 398, or perhaps 399 (Epistle 17). By the time of Paulinus’Epistle 23, in 400, the breach has been newly m ended, and it is from this period onward that we learn most from Paulinus about Severus’life as head of his own community. This was established on a little plot of land (praediolum: Paulinus, Epistle 24.1), the freehold of which he h a d assigned to the Church. In Paulinus’Epistles 31.1 and 32.7, dateable to 402-4, this is named as Primulacium. Two questions arise. First, had this always been the site of Severus’ community? Second, where was it? On the first of these questions, we must remain agnostic. Certainly if som e eight years had elapsed between Severus’ renunciation of the world and o u r earliest reference to Primulacium, his community could have moved in th is time. However, Paulinus’ references to the praediolum in Epistle 24 clearly suggest that this was Severus’permanent base by 400. As Paulinus in this letter addresses Severus’ scruples over the extended process of divesting himself o f his properties, one might infer that he kept other properties up to this date. This is certainly possible; but there is no stronger evidence that his community was

2 Stancliffe (1983:18 n. 15) dates the acquaintance to the period after Paulinus began selling off his estates in 393 (because Martin holds Paulinus up as an example), and before Paulinus’ first extant letter to Martin of 395 (because by then Severus was already selling off his estates). All this, of course, depends on the historicity of Severus’account of Martin’s praise of Paulinus; but even if we regard this account as heavily embellished, a dating in the early-mid 390s squares well with the other information we have. 3 It is this which enables us to date his birth, if approximately. For Paulinus’statement in Epistle 5 that Severus was younger than himself when he renounced the world to have any point, we must assume an appreciable gap; say five years, giving a birth date of 359 at the earliest. The true date could be five years or more after that, but pushing it beyond 365 brings into q u e stio n Paulinus’statements about his legal career. 4 As Stancliffe (1983:17 n. 10) suggests, Severus’continuing friendship with Bassula strongly suggests that the marriage ended with his wife’s death, rather than breakdown. In any case, Paulinus’ praise for Severus’ continence after his marriage would have been inept if this were conditional on divorce. 5Pace Walsh 1967 ad loc., Paulinus’ comments are not proof positive that he had received a copy of the Vita, but simply that he was aware of Severus’ activities as biographer.

permanently based elsewhere. At all events, the Primulacium community—-a group of highly-educated men, who had renounced secular careers in order to live together and practise a combination of Christian asceticism and classical cultured otium—belongs to a type we find elsewhere in the late fourth and early fifth centuries in the Latin West. The short-lived community that formed in the autumn of 386 around Augustine at Cassiciacum (Confessions 9.3.5), probably near Milan, is a slightly earlier example; the ‘Theopolis’ established around 414 by C. Postumus Dardanus, former praefectus Galliarum, near modern Sisteron in Maritime Alps is a slightly later one. The question of Primulacium’s precise location is somewhat more vexed.6 Some have been tempted to identify it with modern sites on the basis of toponymy; thus for example Babut (1912; 39) places it simply at Prémillac in the Périgord, and is followed in this by e.g. Walsh ( 1967:1.211). Fontaine ( 1967: 32ff) cautions against such identifications, and attempts to locate it on the basis of geographical references within Paulinus’ and Severus’ writings to Naurouze, some 46 kilometres south-east of Toulouse.7 Building on Fontaine, Stancliffe (1983: 30) places it to the west of Toulouse (though outside the diocese), near the road to Bordeaux. Wherever the precise location, it was there that the Vita Martini was probably written. Severus’ estate there fills the dual role of a place of cultured retirement for him and his friends, and a bustling hospice for ‘pilgrims and the poor’ (peregrinis et egentibus, Epistle 24.3). Meanwhile, Paulinus does his best to spread his friend’s reputation in the Latin Christian world. He sends Severus a tunic which belonged to his relative Melania the Elder, the famous ascetic and herself the subject of a Life a few years later; he also reads Severus’ Vita Martini to her, in person—‘she is very keen on stories of that sort’ (Epistle 29.14, with Trout 1999:37ff). From Paulinus (Epistle 31.1 ) we learn also that at Primulacium Severus had established two basilicas, the later‘on bigger lines than the previous one’ (maiorem priore). Paulinus and his wife Therasia send Severus and Bassula a fragment of the True Cross, to go with his existing collection of sacred ashes; Paulinus notes that the Cross ‘remains as it were intact, though people take fragments from it every day’ (quasi intacta permaneat cottidie dividua sumentibus·, Epistle 31.6). Between the two basilicas is a baptistery, with pictures of Martin and Paulinus over the font (Epistle 32.2-3). At the altar is buried Clarus, whom Severus had named in the Vita 23 as one of Martin’s most distinguished disciples. Given that south-western Gaul was remarkably rich 6 Fontaine (1967: 32): 'Les villes de la Grèce se sont moins disputé l’honneur d’avoir donné naissance a Homère que les provinces de notre sud-ouest celui d’avoir possédé l’ascétère de Sulpice Sévère.’ 7 Fontaine does not give detailed reasons for this, but we may supply three. First, more than one place may have shared the same name. Secondly, while place names are generally tenacious, some may vanish. Thirdly, sound changes may affect place names anomalously. All of these can make simple identifications problematic.

Sulpicius Severus 4

5

Introduction

in upper-class villas and estates in late antiquity (Balmelle 2001, passim), i t 1S easy to interpret Severus basilica complex as a Christianization of a prevailing pattern of conspicuous semi-public consumption. This is the last extant letter of Paulinus to Severus. For other information on his life, we may turn to his own writings. Of these, the earliest extant is the Vita Martini itself. We have noted that this was in progress by the time of Paulinus Epistle 11, in spring 397. Whether Martin was still alive when it was published is unclear. The work as a whole, and in particular chapters 26-7, seems to assume Martin is no longer alive; but no information is given on the date or circumstances of his death; and, as we will see, Epistle 2 in particular supposes that the Vita was effectively complete when Martin died. We m ay theorize that Martin was clearly ill and nearing the end of his life when the work was written, and that it was not widely circulated until after his death. Severus says little in it about himself, except to say that when he visited M artin to collect information for the Vita, Martin repeatedly deflected his question and suggested that Paulinus was a better model for imitation. We do at least learn something of Severus’ cast of mind from the language and tone of the work. Stylistically reminiscent of the Roman historians Sallust and Tacitus, the Vita shares with their works a bleak view of human moral achievement overall; the author shows particular disdain for bishops in general. But: whatever its value as a source for the life of Martin, it does not add greatly to our knowledge of the author’s own life. The Vita Martini was followed by the Dialogues, accounts of conver­ sations between Severus and his friends, notably Postumianus and Gallus, at Primulacium.8 There is some debate about whether we should see these as two dialogues, or three; most manuscripts, and most modern editions, present the work in three books. However, some manuscripts, including our earliest, present it in two books, a division already known to Gennadius in the late fifth century (see below).9The three-book ordering will be followed here purely for convenience. The Dialogues have a dramatic date of around 404, provided by references to events in Martin’s life, and by references to controversy at Alexandria in 401 over the intellectual legacy of the third-century theologian Origen, which Postumianus describes as having taken place three years earlier.10 A terminus ante quem of 414 for their composition is provided by Jerome’s reference to the work (also described below). Most m odern scholars are disposed to date them to 404-5. The first Dialogue is taken up largely with Postumianus’ accounts of his travels among the monks of North African, Egypt, and the Holy Land; the others largely with Gallus’anecdotes of incidents

in Martin’s life not recorded in the Vita. The focus of the work, therefore, is not on Severus’ own life, and few details emerge of it. There are dark allusions to a bishop who had previously acted as his protector, but who had withdrawn his friendship and protection (Dialogue 1.2). We hear more reflection on the inadequacies of bishops generally (a theme familiar to readers of the Vita), and on the undesirability of involving the secular arm in church politics (Dialogue 1.7). We have a mixed, but mostly positive, assessment of Jerome and his work. Implicitly at least, Severus uses the Dialogues to give an impression of his life at Primulacium as he would like others to picture it; a community cultured and purposeful, where monks and priests rubbed shoulders with (but outranked) high officials of the Roman state (see especially Dialogue 3.1). Severus’ other main work is his Chronica, a synthesis of biblical and secular history down to the consulship of Stilicho in 400.“ This work is not generally seen as a major source for events before Severus’own day, but is notable for his description of the process by which the ascetic Spanish bishop Priscillian was tried and put to death, despite the protests of Martin of Tours and Ambrose of Milan, under the Emperor Magnus Maximus—the first recorded legal murder of a Christian for heresy. Without exculpating Priscillian and his followers, Severus is typically scathing about the role of Spanish and Gallic bishops in bringing him before the secular courts, and of the Roman state’s intervention in matters of church discipline.12 But while his personal views emerge clearly, there is no more information on his life, beyond the dating of the work; for the legend of Helena’s discovery of the True Cross (Chronica 2.46-51) Severus is dependent on the account given to him by Paulinus (Epistle 31), giving a terminus post quem of 403-4. Also transmitted under Severus’ name are a number of letters. Along with the prefatory Epistle to Desiderius which introduces the Vita Martini, three others deal with Martinian matters and are generally taken to be authentic. Epistula 1, addressed to a Eusebius, recounts an incident when Martin’s straw pallet caught fire under him, and how he put the flames out by prayer. In Epistle 2, addressed to a deacon by the name of Aurelius, the writer describes how he saw Martin ascending to heaven in a dream-vision, followed by his pupil Clarus. On waking up he learns that Martin has just died. Martin is holding a copy of Severus’ Vita, suggesting it is effectively complete by the time of his death. Epistle 3 is addressed to his mother-in-law Bassula, whom we know from Paulinus’letters to have been very close to him; in it Severus, writing from Toulouse, teases his mother-in-law for having rifled through and published his private letters, including the one to Aurelius; he then tells the story of how Martin died while on a peace-making visit to the town of Candes. Epistle 2

8 Edition by Fontaine and Dupré (2006); English translation in Peebles (1949), Goodrich (2015). 9 For summary, see Peebles (1949:87-8). 19 Peebles (1949:89 n. 28).

" Latin text in Halm (1866); English translation in Roberts (1894), Goodrich (2015). 12 On the Priscillianist affair generally, see the study by Chadwick (1976).

6

Introduction

is presumably written shortly after Martin’s death, so in late 397 or early 398, and Epistle 3 not long after Epistle 2. Epistle 1 presupposes that the Vita is now widely circulated, but is presumably written before the Dialogues, giving a date of roughly 398-404. Of the seven other letters ascribed to Severus (collected as an appendix to Halm 1866: 219ff; English translation in Roberts 1894), two are addressed to a sister, Claudia, and deal with the Last Judgement and with virginity. One is addressed to a ‘bishop Paulinus’ (Paulus in Halm’s edition) and one to an unknown Salvius; the rest have no addressee. The authenticity of these seven letters is doubtful. We have already mentioned the notice given by Gennadius (De Viris Illustribus 19), writing in the late fifth century. This may now be quoted in full: Severus presbyter, cognomento Sulpicius, Aquitanicae provinciae, vir genere et litteris nobilis et paupertatis atque humilitatis amore conspicuus, carus etiam sanctorum virorum, Martini, Turonensis episcopi, et Paulini Nolani, scripsit non contemnenda opuscula. Nam epistulas ad amorem dei et contemptum mundi hortatorias scripsit sorori suae multas, quae et notae sunt. Scripsit ad supra dictum Paulinum Nolanum duas et ad alios alias, sed quia in aliquibus etiam familiaris necessitas inserta est, non digeruntur. Composuit et Chronicam. Scripsit et ad multorum profectum vitam beati Martini, monachi et episcopi, signis et prodigiis ac virtutibus inlustris viri, et collationem Postumiani et Galli se mediante et iudice de conversatione monachorum Orientalium et ipsius Martini habitam in dialogi speciem duabus incisionibus comprehendit. In quarum priore refert suo tempore apud Alexandriam synodo episcoporum decretum, Origenem et cautius a sapien­ tibus pro bonis legendum et a minus capacibus pro malis repudiandum. Hic in senecta sua a Pelagianis deceptus et agnoscens loquacitatis culpam silentium usque ad mortem tenuit, ut peccatum quod loquendo contraxerat, tacendo penitus emendaret. ‘Severus the priest, surnamed Sulpicius, of the province of Aquitaine, a man noble in his birth and in his writings, and distinguished by his love of poverty and humility, well loved also of those holy men Martin, bishop of Tours, and Paulinus of Nola; he wrote some short works which are not to be despised. For he wrote many letters to his sister, urging her to the love of God and the contempt of the world; these are well known. He wrote two to the aforementioned Paulinus of Nola, and others to other people; but, since matters of close personal interest are contained, these have not been published. He composed also a Chronicle. He wrote also, for the edification of the many, a Life of the Blessed Martin, Monk and Bishop, a man renowned for his signs and portents and mighty works, and a Conference of Postumianus and Gallus, with himself intervening and acting as adjudicator of the lifestyle of the oriental monks and of Martin himself; this is in the form of a dialogue, with two divisions. In the first of these he recounts what in his own time was resolved by the Synod of Alexandria, namely that Origen should both be read carefully by the wise, for his good points, and that he should be rejected by the less able, for his bad ones. In his old age he was misled by the Pelagians; and, acknowledging the guilt of his loquacity, kept silence till his death, so that he might by complete silence make good the sin he committed by speaking.

Sulpicius Severus

7

Gennadius’ is the only self-contained account we have from antiquity of Severus’ life. Unfortunately, many details in it are questionable. So far as the letters are concerned, the extant ones addressed to Claudia may be two of the ‘many’that Gennadius knows of addressed to her. Likewise the one to Paulinus may or may not be one of the two Gennadius knew; Paulinus’ own letter collection assumes that Severus wrote him at least eleven (Peebles 1949: 84, citing Reinelt). The three generally unchallenged letters, to Eusebius, Aurelius, and Bassula, do not correspond closely to anything mentioned by Gennadius. As for the other information given by Gennadius, we may note in particular that detail that Severus was a presbyter, or priest.13 It is, however, notable that Severus himself nowhere indicates that he is one. Our best source of information on this point is Paulinus, Epistle 24. In this letter he reassures Severus over his scruples at having retained the usufruct on his family estate at Primulacium when he renounced the world. This suggests that Severus was a layman, and (unlike Paulinus) could not expect a livelihood from the Church (Stancliffe 1983: 30 n. 2, citing Rouselle-Estève). Moreover, the fact that Paulinus represents Severus as the moral equal of a cleric (24.3) strongly suggests that he is not one in fact. Gennadius adds further that Severus in his later life became a follower of Pelagius, the Irish monk who taught that humans could by their own strength of will choose not to sin. The chronology is plausible, as Pelagius’ideas came to prominence in the first decade of the fifth century, and remained in debate after his condemnation by the Synod of Carthage in 411. Severus’ writings do not, however, suggest a Pelagian in the making; indeed, Martin’s ‘recognizing the goodness of God in his own work’ (bonitatem dei in suo opere cognoscens. Vita Martini 1.4) suggest rather the contrary. Whatever the truth of Gennadius’ statement about Severus’ Pelagian sympathies, he clearly knew of a tradition that Severus lived for some time after his burst of literary activity in 396-405, without publishing further works. It is presumably on this basis as much as anything that standard accounts give his death as around 420, though earlier (or later) dates are not precluded. This is the extent of the biographical information that we have on Severus. In addition to this, we have various indications, the earliest from within his own lifetime, of the impact of his work. The first occurs at the beginning of Paulinus the Deacon’s Life of Ambrose, composed in around 399, where the author recalls Augustine’s suggestion that he should write a life of the late bishop of Milan, ‘just as the blessed bishop Athanasius and the priest Jerome penned Lives of the hermits Antony and Paul, and as Severus the slave of God

13 The translation of Latin presbyter is somewhat problematic; the Greek presbyter originally means ‘elder’, and some feel that the established English translation suggests too strongly a sacerdotal interpretation of their role; but for convenience I have retained this rendering throughout, along with ‘bishop’ for episcopus and so on.

8

Chronology and Historicity of the Vita Martini

9

Introduction

also composed, in highly-polished style, a Life of Martin, the venerable bishop of Tours’ (sicut etiam Martini venerabilis episcopi Turonensis ecclesiae Severus servus dei luculento sermone contexuit). A dozen or so years later, Jerome himself, in his Commentarius in Hiezechielem (11.36, composed around 410-14), attempts to play down expectation of an imminent Second Com ing and the descent of a New Jerusalem from heaven, as described in various authors, including ‘our friend Severus in his recent dialogue called the Gallus’ (nuper Severus noster in dialogo cui Gallo nomen imposuit). The passage in question seems to be Dialogues 2.14, in which Gallus summarizes M artin’s views on the coming of the Antichrist; he had, Martin believed, already been born and was waiting to come to legal age to assume his empire.14This passage is in fact omitted in various manuscripts of the Dialogues, which presumably represents an attempt by right-thinking readers to remove the portions Jerome had found exceptionable. This is presumably also why the list of Scriptural books in the so-called Decretum Gelasianum (usually dated to the early sixth century, though containing earlier material) puts the ‘works of Postumianus and Gallus’ (opuscula Postumiani et Galli, presumably Severus’ Dialogues) in the rather baggy category of‘apocryphal’books. By the middle of the fifth century, some at least in the Greek world know o f his work; the church historian Sozomen, writing shortly before 450, probably in Constantinople, includes in his Historia Ecclesiastica 3.14 a brief account o f Martin and of Hilary which is clearly based on the Vita Martini. Slightly later, Paulinus of Périgueux is commissioned by Perpetuus, bishop of Tours from 461 to 491, to compose his metrical version of Severus’ Martinian works. Perpetuus himself, in his Testament, asks to be buried by the feet of Martin, a n d provides for a supply of oil for the use of Martin’s tomb. It is entirely likely th at Perpetuus inherited a local tradition of veneration for Martin; for the details o f Martin’s life, however, it seems that Severus’ Vita was the source par excellence.15 This trend continues in the sixth century, with a further verse paraphrase commissioned by the Frankish queen Radegund (died 587) of Venantius Fortunatus.16Likewise Gregory of Tours (c.538-94), while aware of num erous local traditions surrounding Martin’s posthumous miracles, seems essentially dependent on Severus for his biographical data. It will be clear from this outline of Severus’career that we have no inform ation on many details. We would like to know exactly when he was born, and w hen he died; we have only approximate indications of either. We would like to know whether he was brought up as a Christian; all circumstances suggest he was, at 14 Peebles (1949: 223 n. 3) points out that it is implied that Martin expressed these views around the time of the Council of Nîmes, in 396, and that Gallus places the event ‘eight years ago, giving a dramatic date for the dialogue of around 404. 15 For a classic exposition of the view that the ‘historical Martin’ is effectively displaced y Severus’‘Martin of faith’, see Babut (1912, especially 276ff). 16 On the paraphrases, see Labarre (1998), Roberts (2002).

least nominally, but nothing confirms it. We would like to know where he was educated; his friendship with Paulinus might indicate Bordeaux, as might his Aquitanian origins, but this too is conjecture. We would like to know more about his secular career, his marriage, his renunciation of the world. We would like to know more exactly where Primulacium was, and about his later life. What details we have of him, however, are at least clear and consistent in outline. The same cannot be said of his hero Martin.

C H R O N O L O G Y A N D H IS T O R IC IT Y O F T H E V IT A M A R T I N I For the details of M artins life we are largely, and perhaps wholly, dependent on the works of Severus. Apart from his works, and the allusions in Paulinus’ letters, we have no direct evidence in contemporary sources. Some further details are supplied by Gregory of Tours; in each case, however, we must consider whether Gregory can be seen as an independent (and well-informed) source or not. Unfortunately, as we will see, Severus’own evidence is not always consistent. This has led to considerable debate, going back over a century, not only on the details of Martinian chronology but on Severus’general reliability and good faith as a historian.17While it would be convenient to have a simple and agreed time-line, it seems better to proceed from the primary sources themselves. As these often give relative chronologies, I proceed from the most securely established dates to the more speculative ones. It will be seen that our witnesses offer more or less contradictory evidence on various points; sometimes irreconcilably so. Where we simply do not have the evidence to adjudicate between their various accounts, it has seemed good to me not to claim otherwise.

Year o f Martin’s Death For this, our key testimonia are: 1. Postridie Felicis episcopi ordinatio parabatur ... [Martinus] sedecim postea vixit annos; nullam synodum adiit, ab omnibus episcoporum conventibus se removit. Sulpicius Severus, Dialogues 3.13

17 Central to any discussion of this topic is the work of Babut ( 1912), with response by Delehaye (1920); there is extensive treatment also in Griffe (1947a). The matter is discussed in Fontaine (1961) and in his edition of the Vita (1967-9). There is an extensive treatment by Stancliffe (1983: 112), and further discussion in Barnes (1996 and 2010).

10

Chronology and Historicity of the Vita Martini Introduction

‘Felix’s ordination was prepared on the following day... Martin lived sixteen years after this, and attended no synod, but removed himself from all meetings of bishops’ 2. non esse autem dubium, quin Antichristus malo spiritu conceptus iam natus esset, et in annis puerilibus constitutus, aetate legitima sumpturus imperium. Quod autem haec ab illo audivimus, annus octavus est. Sulpicius Severus, Dialogues 2.1 ‘[Martin said] that it was not in doubt that the Antichrist, conceived of an evil spirit, had already been born and was in his childhood years; on reaching legal manhood he would take on the emperorship. It is now the eighth year since we heard this from him.’ 3. qua fide speras Christi gratiam in honore Martini, eadem Christi offensam time in offensione Felicis. Paulinus of Nola, Epistle 17.4 ‘By that faith with which you hope to win Christ’s favour in honouring Martin, fear offending Christ in offending Felix.’ 4. Vetus Lazaro consuetudo est innocentiam criminandi. Per multa concilia in sanctum Britium coepiscopum nostrum Turonicae civitatis diabolicus accusator inventus est. Zosimus, Epistle 3.3 ‘Lazarus’habit of accusing the innocent is inveterate. Over many councils he was found to be a diabolical adversary of the holy Bri[c]tius of Tours, our fellow-bishop.’ 5. Lazarus, dudum in Taurinensi concilio gravissimorum episcoporum sententiis pro calumniatore damnatus, cum Britii innocentis episcopi vitam falsis objectionibus appetisset... Zosimus, Epistle 4.2 ‘When Lazarus, long since condemned as a slanderer at the Council of Turin in accordance with the views of the most authoritative bishops, sought the life of Bri[c]tius, the innocent bishop, with false accusations...’ 6. Arcadii vero et Honorii secondo imperii anno, sanctus Martinus Turonorum episcopus... octogesimo et primo aetatis suae anno, episcopatus autem vigesimo sexto, apud Condatensem dioecesis suae vicum excedens a saeculo feliciter migravit ad Christum. Transiit autem media nocte, quae dominica habebatur, Attico Caesarioque consulibus. Gregory of Tours, Historia Francorum 1.43 ‘In the second year of the reign of Arcadius and Honorius, the holy Martin, bishop of Tours, in the eighty-first year of his age and the twenty-sixth of his episcopate, leaving the world at the town of Candes, in his diocese, departed in blessedness to Christ. He passed away at midnight on a Sunday, in the consulship of Atticus and Caesarius.’

11

7. in urbe Turonica episcopatus honorem invitus, populo cogente, suscepit: in quo gloriosam et paene inimitabilem agens vitam per quinquennia quinque bis insuper geminis mensibus cum decem diebus, octogesimo primo aetatis suae anno, Caesario et Attico consulibus, nocte media quievit in pace ... in die dominica. Gregory of Tours, De Virtutibus Sancti Martini 1.3 ‘He took up the bishopric of Tours under compulsion from the people and not of his own accord; in which bishopric having led a glorious and almost inimitable life for five times five years, twice two months, and ten days, he went to his rest in peace in the eighty-first year of his age, in the consulship of Caesarius and Atticus, at midnight... on Sunday.’ We take the more or less contemporary witnesses first. Passage ( 1) points to a date of 401 ; this is exceptional, and will be discussed below. Passage (2) suggests that Martin was active in 397, taking the dramatic date of the Dialogues to be 404 and counting inclusively; this could just be pushed as late as 399, if we take as our baseline a publication date of 406 (Stancliflfe 1983: 80-1). Passage (3) suggests that Martin, like Felix of Nola, is now dead; this is dateable to 398 or 399. Passages (4) and (5), by Zosimus (bishop of Rome 417-18), are good evidence that Martin had been succeeded as Bishop of Tours by Brictius by the time of the Council of Tours in 398 or 399 (on the dating, see Mathisen 2013). All these are more or less contemporary sources, certainly within a generation of M artins death; they are likely to be well informed and to have no particular axe to grind on this score. Taking their evidence together, we would conclude that Martin died between 397 and 398. Gregory of Tours writes some two hundred years later; it is generally assumed that he has access to the archives of the cathedral at Tours and so has independent access to good information on Martin’s time as bishop. In passages (6) and (7) he dates Martin’s death to the consulship of Atticus and Caesarius, and the second year of the reign of Arcadius and Honorius (Arcadii vero et Honorii secundo imperii anno ... Attico Caesarioque consulibus·, Historia Francorum 1.48). The first of these dates is 397; the second would more naturally be 396, though 397 is possible.18 This leaves Severus’ statement in Passage (1) that Martin lived for sixteen years after the consecration of Felix to the see of Trier, hence in or around 401. The widely accepted explanation is that Severus’ text is corrupt, and that the transmitted reading sedecim/XVI derives from a misreading of X IV or XIII (by the familiar phenomenon o f‘minim confusion); thus e.g. Delehaye (1920: 33), Stancliflfe (1983: 119), Barnes (2010: 227). As Stancliffe (1983: 119-20) points out, a date of 385 for Priscillian’s death, followed by a period of thirteen years,

18 Stancliffe 1983:116 n. 18:‘Arcadius and Honorius succeeded jointly on Theodosius’death in January 395 ... but it is possible that some chronographers assigned all 395 to Theodosius ... or that Gregory made an error of one year when collating the years of the consuls with the regnal years of the emperors (Delehaye, p. 28).’

Chronology and Historicity of the Vita Martini 12

13

Introduction

counting inclusively, takes us up to 397. Overall, then, this is the single m ost secure date in the chronology of the life of Martin.

Date o f Martin’s Death In passages (6) and (7) we have seen Gregory’s belief that Martin died on a Sunday. In addition to this, he states: 8. sedit autem annos viginti sex, menses quattuor, dies viginti septem Historia Francorum 10.31

Clain, to his cathedral city (Historia Francorum 1.48). Thus 11 November is likely to mark the final welcoming (receptio) of his body into his church, and its burial (depositio) there (so Delehaye 1920: 127-8, followed by Stancliffe 1983: 117-18). Now in 397, 11 November fell on a Wednesday; if Martin had died on a Sunday, we would expect the date of his death to be either the 8th, or possibly 1 November. Delehaye (1920: 29-30) is sceptical of Gregory’s observation that he died on a Sunday, on the grounds that this is merely the conventional day for holy men to die (and Gregory had indeed made play of the fact that Martin died on the day of the Lord’s resurrection); but presumably a Sunday is as likely as any other day. Once we allow for the journey up-river from Candes to Tours, a date of the 8th seems as late as is likely.

‘He held the see for twenty-six years, four m onths, and twenty-seven days.’ 9. hanc enim [sc. ordinationem] IV nonas Iulias observabis, depositionem vero eius III idus Novembris esse cognoscas Historia Francorum 2.14 ‘You shall observe his ordination on the 4th July; his deposition you should k n o w to be on the 11th November.

We have also the following statement from the Preface to the Acts of th e Council of Tours in 461: 10. Severino v. c. consule sub die XVIII kalendis decembris, cum ad sacratissim am festivitatem qua domni M artini receptio celebratur in civitate T uronorum beatissimi sacerdotes quorum subscriptio subter adiecta est convenissent... ‘In the consulship of the vir clarissimus Severinus, on the 11th N ovem ber, when the most blessed bishops whose subscription is added below had conv en ed at the festival where the receptio of messir Martin is celebrated in the city o f T o u rs...

Passages (7) and (8) offer conflicting relative chronologies of his death a n d consecration as bishop; we will return to them when we consider the date o f his consecration. Passages (6) and (7) repeat the statement that he died on a Sunday. Passages (9) and (10) state respectively that Martins depositio and his receptio were celebrated on 11 November. It seems certain that this was the recognized feast-day of Martin from an early date (and the public nature of this commemoration is likely to have ensured that the date remained constant). However, while this is often referred to in liturgical and other sources as the natalis or anniversary of his death (so e.g. Barnes 2010: 224), we should give full weight to the terms depositio and receptio here. Gregory tells us that M artin died at Candes, about a hundred kilometres from Tours, and that there followed an undignified struggle for his remains between the people of Poitiers, who claimed that he had had his first monastery there, and Tours, who claimed him as their bishop; a struggle that was resolved only when the m en of Tours smuggled his body out of a window that night and up the rivers Vienne and

The Date o f Martin’s Consecration as Bishop We have noted above four statements by Gregory on the date of Martin’s consecration as bishop. In the Historia Francorum 1.43 (passage 6 above), he dies ‘in the twenty-sixth year of his episcopate’ (anno episcopatus autem vigesimo sexto). In the De Virtutibus Sancti Martini 1.3 (passage 7), he holds the see of Tours for ‘five times five years, twice two months, and ten days’ (quinquennia quinque bis insuper geminis mensibus cum decem diebus). In the Historia Francorum 10.31 (passage 8), he holds it for ‘twenty-six years, four months, and twenty-seven days’ (annos viginti sex, menses quattuor, dies viginti septem). In the Historia Francorum 2.14 (passage 9), Gregory tell his readers to ‘observe his ordination on the 4th July {[ordinationem] IV nonas Iulias observabis). Gregory states also: 11. Tertius, sanctus Martinus, anno octavo Valentis et Valentiniani episcopus ordinatur Gregory, Historia Francorum 10.31. ‘The third bishop, the holy Martin, was ordained in the eighth year of Valens and Valentinian.’ The most obvious problem here is that Gregory’s text as we have it gives two different dates for the length of Martin’s episcopate. These are irreconcilable without recourse to textual emendation (for attempts at this, see Delehaye 1920: 28-9). If we are to emend, then the formula in the De Virtutibus is more likely to be as Gregory wrote it, with its elegant balance (five fives, two twos, and ten). But if Martin was ordained on 4 July, as Gregory says elsewhere, then this chronology would place his death on 13 November, that is, two days after the celebration of his depositio. A dating of twenty-six years, four months, and twenty-seven days is of course even worse, quite part from the discrepancy of over twelve months between the two. The reference to Martin’s ordination ‘in the eighth year of Valens and Valentinian’ looks promising, but disappoints;

Introduction this may be reckoned as either 371 or 372. In any case this may be a secondary calculation on Gregory’s part, based on his other figures; so also his statement that Martin died in the twenty-sixth year of his episcopate. We appear at least to have narrowed Martins consecration down to some point in the summer of 371 or 372. A further problem, however, arises from Gregory’s statement that Martin’s consecration took place on 4 July. This is, I believe, the single most reliable statement that Gregory makes on the subject: he refers to a celebration of the event, and the dates of annual, public celebra­ tions are, as we have suggested, likely to remain fixed in popular memory. Unfortunately, this does not help us determine the year. Consecrations usually took place on a Sunday,19 and 4 July was a Sunday in 370, but of course not in 371 or 372. Delehaye (1920:28) regards this as a decisive factor, proposing that the true date was indeed 4 July 370, and that Gregory miscalculated his dates by a year. Stancliffe (1983: 116) suggests simply that Martin may not have been consecrated on a Sunday. There is, in short, no reason to place his consecration earlier than 370 or later than 372; beyond that, the evidence leaves us stranded

The Date of Martin’s Birth The chronological questions we have considered so far, whatever their other importance, tell us very little about Severus’methods and general credibility as a historian; he makes no statement in the Vita on the dates of Martin’s death o r his consecration. We turn now to two questions which have great bearing o n his credibility. First, there is the matter of the date of Martin’s birth. For this our key testimonia are as follows: 6 (abridged).... sanctus Martinus Turonorum episcopus ... octogesimo et primo aetatis suae anno ... migravit ad Christum. Gregory of Tours, Historia Francorum 1.43 ‘... the holy Martin, bishop of Tours, in the eighty-first year of his age ... departed to Christ.’ We have also the following statement of Gregory’s: 12. huius [sc. Constantini] imperii anno undecimo, cum post excessum Diocliciani pax reddita fuisset ecclesiis, beatissimus praesul Martinus apud Sabariam Pannoniae civitatem nascitur parentibus gentilibus, non tamen infimis. Gregory of Tours, Historia Francorum 1.34 ‘In the eleventh year of [Constantine’s] reign, when after the death of Diocletian peace had been restored to the churches, the most blessed bishop Martin was born in Sabaria, the city of Pannonia, of pagan parents, though not of the lowest. 19 Griffe (1947b: 186), citing Pope Zosimus’ietter of 22 September 417 to the effect that this is the dies legitimus. But the fact that this needs to be stated of course implies that it was not universally observed, and perhaps less so half a century earlier.

Chronology and Historicity of the Vita Martini

15

Before Gregory, however, we have two statements of Severus’: 13. Ipse ... inter scholares alas sub rege Constantio, deinde sub Iuliano Caesare militavit ... cum esset annorum quindecim, captus et catenatus sacramentis militaribus implicatus est... triennium fere ante baptismum in armis fuit... cum esset annorum duodeviginti ad baptismum convolavit, nec tamen statim militiae renuntiavit, tribuni sui precibus evictus... etenim transacto tribunatus sui tempore renuntiaturum se saeculo pollicebatur, qua Martinus exspectatione suspensus per biennium fere posteaquam est baptismum consecutus, solo licet nomine, militavit. Sulpicius Severus, Vita Martini 2.2-3.5 ‘Martin himself entered military service in the household cavalry under King Constantius, and then served under the Caesar Julian ... at the age of fifteen he was rounded up, put in chains, and made to take the military oath ... For some two years before his baptism he was in arms ... he flew to baptism, being eighteen years old. Nor did he renounce his military career at once, being persuaded by the entreaties of his tribune ... for he promised to renounce the world once his time as tribune was complete. Kept in suspense with this hope, Martin soldiered on, though that in name alone, for some two years after gaining baptism.’ 14. propone enim tibi ante oculos captum in palatio imperatoris, precibus ambiri, reginae fide cogi, temporis necessitate constringi, ut clausos carcere liberaret, exiliis datos restitueret, bona adempta rehiberet: haec quanti putas constare episcopo debuisse, ut pro his omnibus non aliquantulum de rigore propositi relaxaret? verumtamen quia occasione huius exempli male usuros esse aliquos arbitraris, illi vero felices erunt, si a disciplina exempli istius non recedant, videant enim, quia Martino semel tantum in uita iam septuagenario non vidua libera, non virgo lasciuiens, sed sub viro vivens, ipso viro pariter supplicante, regina servivit et ministravit edenti, non cum epulante discubuit: nec ausa participare convivium, sed deferebat obsequium. Sulpicius Severus, Dialogues 2.7.3-4 ‘You must picture him a prisoner in the imperial palace, beset with petitions, compelled by his allegiance to the queen, constrained by the necessity of the occasion, that he should set free the captives, recall the exiles, restore the goods that had been confiscated; what value do you think the bishop should have set on it, that in exchange for these things he should not unbend a little from the rigour of his monastic intent? But since you think that some will abuse an instance of this sort, they will be blessed indeed if they keep to teaching of this sort. They should bear in mind that Martin, once in his life, and when he was already a septuagenarian, was served not by some footloose widow, nor by some pert young girl, but by a queen, living under a husband—which husband was indeed joined in her entreaties. She waited on him while he ate, and did not lie on couch while he was feasting; she did not venture even to share in the banquet, but offered her service. We consider first the evidence of Severus. Passage (13) offers a carefully worked-out sequence o f events. Martin serves in the army for approximately five years, first under Constantius then under the Caesar Julian. He leaves the army at the age of twenty, perhaps slightly more or less. Now Julian was

16

Introduction

appointed Caesar in 355, so the earliest date we can give for Martins birth on this reckoning is 335. Martins famous demission from military service takes place against the backdrop of barbarians sweeping into Gaul (barbaris intra Gallias irruentibus, 4.1 ). There is, as we will see, a general (though not universal) consensus that if anything like the event occurred, it was during Julian’s counter-raids in the Rhineland of 356-7. This would place Martins date of birth to around 336-7. Passage (14) suggests a very different chronology. Here Martin is already in his seventies when he dines with the wife of the Emperor Maximus at Trier (not to be confused with the dinner at which Evodius was present, in chapter 20 of the Vita; Delehaye 1920: 32, Barnes 2010: 228ff). The context is clearly that of Martins attempts to mitigate Maximus’ purge of the supporters o f Priscillian following his execution. Barnes’ suggestion of a date of 387 is entirely acceptable, if not absolute; Martin would then be born in the p e rio d 308-17, and more likely towards the end of that period. It is time to consider the evidence of Gregory. Passage (6) places M artin’s birth between November 316 and early November 317, if we accept a death date of 397. Passage (12), with its statement that Martin was born in the eleventh year of Constantine the Great, points to 316 (counting inclusively with Stancliffe) or 317 (exclusively, with Barnes). Gregory’s evidence is at least here consistent. We must ask, however, whether it is independent of Severus’ Barnes (2010) states that ‘it is normally assumed that Gregory took his dates for the death of Martin, his age at death and the year of his consecration as bishop from the episcopal archives of Tours and hence that they m ust be correct’. On the dates of Martin’s consecration and death there is indeed, so far as I can see, consensus that Gregory probably did use the cathedral archives though (as we have seen) he gives us conflicting information on these m atters, and not all of it can be correct. On the date of Martin’s birth, such consensus is elusive. Delehaye (1920: 29), although accepting a date of 315, does not do so on the basis of Gregory’s evidence: rather, citing Jullian, he observes that ‘Ce n’est bien certainement pas des archives épiscopales que Grégoire a tiré l’année de la naissance de S. Martin ... Le passage où il la mentionne dépend verbalement de Sulpice Sévère, et la date n’a autre provenance.’This conclusion is followed, more tentatively, by Griffe (1947a: 201), and by Stancliffe (1983: 118). Stancliffe notes further that Gregory gives dates of birth or ages at death only for Martin and for his own immediate predecessor, whom he would have known; the implication being that if Gregory is reliant on cathedral archives for Martin’s date of birth, it is odd that he should not give this information for other bishops too. According to this school of thought, then, Gregory is dependent on Severus, and cannot be treated as a separate source. Contra, Fontaine (1961: 194) is cautious, but feels overall that Gregory should get the benefit of the doubt: ‘rien ne prouve que cette indication [i.e. a birth date of 316-17] doive être considérée comme le résultat abstrait d’une simple

Chronology and Historicity of the Vita Martini

17

soustraction’. Barnes (2010: 226-7) is forthright: ‘no valid reason has ever been advanced for doubting the accuracy of Gregory’s information’. Fontaine’s statement of the position seems to me admirably circumspect; we cannot prove that Gregory is dependent on Sulpicius Severus. Equally, however, we cannot exclude that possibility. Certainly Gregory does rely on Severus for details of Martin’s background, and he could easily have derived his chronology of his birth from the same source. As, then, we cannot say with confidence that he offers any independent evidence, we are best advised not to invoke him on this matter. This does not, of course, resolve our problem with the inconsistencies, apparent or real, we find in Severus. The classic case for the ‘long chronology’ was put by Babut (1912:67ff). He argued that quite apart from the embarrassing fact of Martin’s having served in the army at all, Severus was embarrassed by the fact that he had served under the apostate emperor Julian. Unable to reduce his period of service to nothing, he reduces it to five years, thus cutting some ten or twenty years from his real age. Martin is then made to join the army under pressure from his father at the age of fifteen. The result is a mismatch between the notional sixty-year-old Martin whom Severus came to know around 396, and the weary old man (fatiscentem aetatem ... animus victor annorum et cedere nescius senectuti, Epistle 3.13) he truly was. Others have attempted to uphold the long chronology while playing down any suggestion that Severus has deliberately misled readers of the Vita. The most notable of these is Griffe (1947a: 203-4), who proposes that Martin served not for two years after his baptism (biennium, the transmitted reading of our texts) but twenty years ( vicennium), in accordance to a promise made to his tribune. Palaeographically this is extremely plausible in itself; it would also push Martin’s birth back towards the figure suggested by Severus’septuagenar­ ius. Moreover, Martin could fairly claim to be a time-served soldier when he demanded his demission from Julian. But there are logical problems also. Twenty years is a long time to serve in the army out of concern for the spiritual well-being of one’s superior officer. While of course this is only the reason given by Severus, it does seem remarkable that he would give such a weak explanation, if his intention were to exculpate Martin for his military service. In any case, as Griffe himself points out, the reading biennium was clearly known to Paulinus of Périgueux, who refers to this period as geminis annis ... parvam iustamque moram (1.128ff). Of course Paulinus might have been reliant on a faulty version of the text of the Vita at this point, but in the absence of any more positive evidence we must set this explanation aside.20

'J1 Other and less plausible proposals for construing or repunctuating the Latin are discussed by Stancliffe (1983: 127-8); these tend to fall down on the grounds that the syntax or proserhythms resulting from them would not be typically Severan, and in any case they are unnecessarily tortuous and obscure.

Introduction The case for the short chronology seems to have attracted fewer adherents, but has been fully argued by Stancliffe (1983: 119ff). Part of her argum ent consists in pointing out what she sees as weaknesses in some of the subsidiary arguments of the long chronology. Thus Babut’s suggestion that a sixty-yearold Martin could not have appeared as weary vieillard is countered by reference to the different demographic pyramid of late antiquity. Fontaines theory that Martin could not canonically have been ordained deacon at the age of tw enty is countered by a reference to Ambrose, consecrated to the see of Milan at the age of twenty-four. Some of her more positive arguments are som ew hat circumstantial; thus Martins ‘flamboyant’ actions in confronting the Caesar Julian, and his attempt to live on a small island on wild roots, appear to h e r more the action of a young man than a forty-something; a fair point so far as it goes, but hardly conclusive. At the heart of the problem is the one word septuagenario in Dialogues 2.7 .4 . On this matter, Stancliffe takes the view that this is a hyperbole, occurring in a piece of viva voce conversation where liveliness and vigour count for more th an literal accuracy. The author is, she suggests, simply playing down the possibility of any impropriety in Martin’s having dined with a lady by emphasizing that he was a man past his prime of life. It must be frankly admitted that there seems to be no parallel for the use of septuagenarius in this sense; but comic exaggeration works best when all parties can recognize it for what it is (and indeed, Stancliffe offers cases of what must be comic exaggeration from the Dialogues). Potential support for Stancliflfe’s short chronology comes, as Ducloux ( 1994; 18) points out, from the incident described in chapter 2 of the Vita, in w hich the ten-year-old Martin ‘takes refuge in the church’ at Pavia (ad ecclesiam confugit). The formal right of refuge in a church, well recognized by Severus’ day, is first attested outside his writings in the Acts of the Council of Sardica o f 343-4. Moreover, the episcopal see of Pavia dates from the middle of the fo u rth century. Both of these facts may be taken to suggest that the young M artins escapade took place in the mid-340s, rather than twenty years earlier. Having raised this possibility, however, Ducloux dismisses it, largely on the grounds that she finds unconvincing the arguments of the historienne britannique; if Martin did not formally seek refuge in a church in 326, he may—as Ducloux puts it—have sought refuge in‘the Church’, that is, in religion broadly conceived. While Ducloux upholds the long chronology, which she regards from the outset as definitively established, her arguments on the specific question o f the right of sanctuary are, in fact, inconclusive; she succeeds in dem onstrating not that the short chronology is mistaken, but that the episode may be understood within either chronology. Stancliffe, then, makes a case for the short chronology, but not one which has found universal acceptance. One frustrating feature of the debate on the subject is vastly differing assumptions of those like her who wish to preserve, so far as they can, the phenomena of the case, and those like Babut who regard every

Chronology and Historicity of the Vita Martini

19

statement of Severus’with suspicion. Thus, to take two examples, Stancliffe urges that Martin’s desire as a twelve-year-old to enter the monastic life makes better sense around 348, when monasticism is starting to become known in the west, than it does twenty years earlier; to which the sceptical response would presumably be that we have only Severus’ word for it that this took place at all, and that the alleged incident is best understood as a rehashing of what by the late fourth century is a familiar pious topic. Likewise Severus’ statement that Martin continued as a purely nominal soldier for two years after baptism is taken by her as evidence for the short chronology, since he could hardly (as the long chronology suggests) have served in name alone for a full twenty-two years. Again, however, the sceptical response would presumably be, as Babut (1912: 166) puts it, that Severus is an ill-informed author who mixes up truth with large quantities of edifying falsehood. We will return to this matter shortly.

Martin’s Military Career The second key question which concerns the chronological accuracy of the Vita is that of the circumstances surrounding Martin’s demission from the army. Here the main sources are: 15. (1) Interea irruentibus intra Gallias barbaris Iulianus Caesar, coacto in unum exercitu apud Vangionum civitatem, donativum coepit erogare militibus, et ... singuli citabantur, donec ad Martinum ventum est. (2) tum vero opportunum tempus existimans quo peteret missionem ... hactenus, inquit ad Caesarem, militavi tibi: (3) patere ut nunc militem deo. donativum tuum pugnaturus accipiat; Christi ego miles sum: pugnare mihi non licet... (7) postero die hostes legatos de pace miserunt, sua omnia seque dedentes ... 5 (1) exinde relicta militia sanctum Hilarium, Pictavae episcopum civitatis... expetiit... Sulpicius Severus, Vita Martini 4.1-5.1 ‘(1) Meanwhile, as the barbarians were sweeping into Gaul, the Caesar Julian, having gathered his army together at Worms, began to distribute donatives to his soldiers; and ... each man was called by name, until they arrived at Martin. (2) Then Martin, thinking this an opportune moment to ask for his discharge ... said to the Caesar: “Thus far have I served you. (3) Now allow me to serve God. Let him who means to fight, accept your donative. I am Christ’s soldier. I may not fight.” ... (7) On the following day the enemy sent legates to sue for peace, and surrendered themselves and all that was theirs... Then, having left state service, he sought out saint Hilary,bishop of Poitiers ...’ 16. Audiens itaque Argentoratum, Brotomagum, Tabernas, Salisonem, Nemetas et Vangionas et Mogontiacum civitates barbaros possidentes territoria earum habitare—nam ipsa oppida ut circumdata retiis busta declinant—primam omnium Brotomagum occupavit, eique iam adventanti Germanorum manus pugnam intentans occurrit. Cumque in bicornem figuram acie divisa conlato pede res agi coepisset, exitioque hostes urgerentur ancipiti, captis nonnullis, aliis

20

Introduction in ipso proelii fervore truncatis, residui discessere celeritatis praesidio tecti. Nullo itaque post haec repugnante ad recuperandam ire placuit Agrippinam, ante Caesaris in Gallias adventum excisam ... Igitur Agrippinam ingressus non ante motus est exinde quam Francorum regibus furore mitescente perterritis pacem firmaret... Ammianus Marcellinus 16.2-3 ‘Hearing, then, that the barbarians had gained control of the cities of Strasbourg, Brumath, Rheinzabern, Seitz, Speyer, Worms, and Mainz and were occupying their townlands—for they shunned the towns themselves like funeral pyres surrounded with snares—Julian first of all seized Brumath, and at his approach a band of Germans, intent on battle, confronted him. The battle-line was drawn up in crescent formation; and, when the infantry engaged and began to slog it out, the enemy was beset with varying fates; some were captured, others for very fervour of battle hewn down, the remainder departed, protected by their own fleetness of foot. So with no-one hereafter offering resistance, the Caesar resolved to go and recapture Cologne, which had been destroyed before his arrival in Gaul... So having entered Cologne he did not stir from there before he had concluded peace with the Frankish kings, who were now utterly cowed, their bloodlust having subsided ...’ 17. aequinoctio quippe exacto per eos tractus superfusae nives opplevere simul montes et campos ... quae illi [sc. Alamanni] maturata ad suam perniciem contemplantes metuque rei peractae volucriter congregati precibus et humilitate suprema petiere missis oratoribus pacem quam Caesar omni consiliorum via causatus veri similia plurima decem mensuum tribuit intervallum. Ammianus Marcellinus 17.1.10-12 ‘Since the equinox had now passed, the snow which had fallen on that area had blocked mountains and plains alike ... They [the Alammani], reflecting that these events had happened early and were likely to lead to their ruin, and also out of fear arising from their own crimes, swiftly gathered and sent ambassadors with all prayers and humility, begging for peace. This Caesar granted to them, having explored every possible means of counsel and advanced many spurious lines of reasoning, in the form of a ten-month truce.’ 18. Inter tot enim rerum probabilium cursus articulosque necessitatum ancipites sudoribus Gallicanis miles exhaustus nec donativum meruit nec stipendium iam inde ut Iulianus illo est missus... Ammianus Marcellinus 17.9.6 ‘Among all this course of uncertain events, amidst these moments of danger which could have gone either way, the soldiery, exhausted by their Gallic toils, had not yet been found worthy of donative nor pay since Julian had been sent there ...’

As we have noted, most scholars have felt that if there is any historical basis to the story of Martin’s confrontation with Julian, then his demission from the army should be dated to 356, and to Julians punitive campaign in the Rhineland; in other words, to the events described in Book 16 of Ammianus Marcellinus (passage 16 above). This consensus is not universal. Babut (1912: 169-72), while accepting 356 as the earliest possible date for M artins leaving the army,

Chronology and Historicity of the Vita Martini

21

called attention to Ammianus’ statement that by 358 Julians troops had yet to receive their pay, let alone any donatives, for his Gallic campaign (passage 18 above), and was disposed to date his departure from military service to the period 356-66, without committing himself to the historicity of the story of the encounter near Worms. Delehaye (1920: 31), accepting both the long chronology for Martin’s life and the idea of a relatively short military service, had him enrolled in the army in 330, on active service from 334 to 339, then released (hence not serving under Julian at all). Griffe (1947a: 203) feels we can safely accept a date of late summer 356; so also Fontaine (1961: 205-8) and Stancliffe (1983), whose views are discussed below. It has long been recognized that this causes problems with Severus’ claim that after leaving the army, Martin headed down to Poitiers to be with Hilary, and that while he was there Hilary made numerous attempts to have him ordained. Hilary was sentenced to exile by the Synod of Béziers, also in 356. If the two men met that year, it must have been after Julian had reached Worms in the Rhineland, and before Hilary went into exile. Babut (1912: 72, 184) indeed supposed Martin left the army in 356, but that the story of his first meeting with Hilary was a fiction of Severus’, designed to bolster Martin’s reputation by associating him with th e‘rock of orthodoxy’; and moreover that ‘the biographer who invented the first stay in Poitiers could equally well have invented the second.’ In contrast, Delehaye’s chronology, according to which Martin leaves the army in 339, allows ample time for Martin to go to Poitiers, and for Hilary to press him to accept ordination. The matter has been most fully explored by Stancliffe (1983: 134ff). A propos of Hilary’s movements, she points out that the circumstances and the exact date of the Synod of Béziers are uncertain;21 that the synod must have met by 20 June 356, and that Hilary’s exile may not have been immediate, since if nothing else then the sentence of exile would have had to be reported to the Emperor Constantius in Italy and ratified by him. Severus also gives us grounds for believ­ ing he was already in exile by September, as he refers (in Chronica 2.42.2) to Hilary’s being in the fourth year of his exile (quartum iam exsilii in Phrygia agens) at the time of the Synod of Seleucia in September 359, though we may suggest that Severus could be dating his exile from the date of the Synod of Béziers rather than the exact date of his departure from Poitiers. At the latest, Stancliffe concludes, Hilary must have sailed before the mare clausum in November. A propos of Martin’s movements, Stancliffe traces carefully the chronology of Julian’s campaign as given by Ammianus Marcellinus. Ammianus (16.2.1-2) states that Julian reached Autun from Vienne on 24 June 356; that he then marched swiftly north to Rheims, then more slowly to Brumath, some 380 kilometres in all; following that, he would have marched a further 145 kilometres on to Worms, where (on Stancliffe’s reading) Martin made his famous request for 21 See Smulders (1995),especially summary of sources on pp. 126ff.

Introduction demission. Stancliffe calculates this would have taken him till late July or ear y August of that year. The journey from Worms to Poitiers was a further 990 kilometres, which Martin would have made on horse. On this chronology, Stancliffe concludes,‘Martin could have reached Poitiers by mid August’; that is, in time to meet Hilary before his departure into exile. In response to Babuts suggestion that if the story of the first meeting between them is false, then the second might be so also, Stancliffe (1983: 137 n. 15) simply turns the question inside out; if the story of the second meeting is true, then why not also the first? It must be admitted that the timing is tight, and questions remain. Why did Martin go to visit Hilary, with whom he apparently had no previous connexion? How did Hilary, at a uniquely stressful moment in his life, find so much time to devote to Martin? Why does Severus say nothing of Hilary’s impending exile, and identify Martin’s mission to his parents as the occasion of their separation? It is hard to answer these questions without lapsing quickly into mere speculation. Barnes (1996, revised 2010: 205-8) has approached the matter from a different angle, claiming that the account of Martin’s demission in the Vita refers to the events of autumn 357, and not those of 356; in other words, to the events in Book 17 of Ammianus (passage 17 above). The im m ediate consequence of this, of course, is that Martin cannot have left the army before Hilary went into exile, and so the Vita must be completely mistaken on this point. The specific point of chronology that Barnes raises seems to have received relatively little attention; so a brief discussion may be in order here. In its favour, the situation described in Ammianus certainly resembles that in the Vita Martini in its general lineaments; in each case, a Germanic army, driven back by a counter-raid of Julian’s, suddenly offer their surrender. Arguably, indeed, the events of 357 as described by Ammianus accord better with the account in the Vita than do the events of 356; Ammianus’account of the Battle of Brum ath does indeed refer to Julian’s presence near Worms, but contains no reference to any impending battle there, or to any sudden surrender by the enemy. Equally, Barnes’identification is not entirely conclusive. In the first place, the incruenta victoria is a familiar topos in ancient historiography. Pliny, Epistle 2.7.3, describes it as the pulcerrimum victoriae genus.22It is in the nature o f topoi that differing incidents are likely to be written up in a similar way, making spe­ cific identification difficult. Secondly, we may note that the more specific mise en scène of the two accounts is rather different. In Ammianus’ account o f the events of autumn 357, the barbarians are on the defensive, their morale already broken by defeat (17.1.6), their plans betrayed by deserters (17.1.8); they are at this moment hastily holed up in a Roman fort in Alemannic territory ( 17.1.11 ), and the narrative suggests that a siege (perhaps only a short one) is a most likely

22 Incruenta victoria is, in fact, commonly found in litotes; haud incruenta victoria or similar. But there are many instances in the historians of the positive phrase. See further Cameron (2007. 198, with bibliography), Brennan (1990:332) for classical and biblical precedents.

Chronology and Historicity o f the Vita Martini

23

sequel. Severus’ account instead leads us to expect a pitched battle between a rampaging horde of barbarians and a Roman army sent to resist them. Barnes suggests that the correspondences between the scenes become clearer once Severus’ ‘hyperbolic rhetoric’ (Barnes 1996: 30, cf 2010: 207) has been dis­ counted. Certainly they appear more similar if one disregards the differences. Moreover, Barnes’ (1996: 30) suggestion that Ammianus’ account of Julian’s movements suggest ‘there was neither the occasion nor the opportunity for him to give a donative to his army at Worms in the campaigning season of 356’is not a strong argument for assigning the scene to 357; as we have seen, Ammianus tells us that Julian had by 358 given no donatives in the course of his Gallic campaign.23 None o f this is fatal to Barnes’ argument. The accounts in Severus and in Ammianus have very different rhetorical functions, and Severus’ focus on Martin’s act of parrhesia towards the ‘tyrant’ Julian no doubt overrides any interest in describing the precise historical situation (if indeed he had any detailed information on this). But the same mismatch between the two writers’ whole approach means it is simply very difficult to make such identifications on evidence which is necessarily somewhat slight. Barnes also echoes Babut’s insinuation that if Martin did not meet Hilary after leaving the army (as he could not have done, if the historico-dramatic date of this incident is after 356), then the story of their later meeting was likely to have been invented too; a point which, as we have noted, had already been countered by Stancliffe. The precise date of M artins leaving the army is, then, uncertain. A date of 356 has generally been felt to correspond best to the evidence. This appears to be largely on the basis that Martin is said to have met Hilary shortly after, which gives us a terminus ante quem of some time in 356. A date of 357 fits as well, and perhaps better, with the account given in Ammianus of Julians campaigns in the Rhineland; but given the somewhat vague language in which Severus couches his account, it is difficult to make a conclusive identification with either. A date of 357 precludes a meeting between Martin and Hilary before the latter’s exile; and of course vice versa.

Summary The chronology of the Vita Martini, and the life of Martin generally, is, then, not without its problems. While it is right to point these out and to attempt to 23 Barnes partially addresses the problem here. He rejects Jullian’s (1910) identification of the donative in question with the giving of gifts to various agentes in rebus of Julian’s consistorium, described at Ammianus Marcellinus 16.5.11; no doubt rightly, as the similarities between the two incidents are very general, and in any case the date of the incident is uncertain. He does not, however, attempt to reconcile his own dating of 357 with Ammianus’ statement in 17.9.6 that Julian had distributed no donatives during his Gallic campaign.

The ‘Genre o f Hagiography’ 24

25

Introduction

resolve them, it seems to me that unnecessary problems are caused by insufficient attention to three considerations surrounding them. First, Severus may simply not have had access to accurate information about Martins deeds and movements. We have his own testimony that M artin was very reluctant to be interviewed about his own actions, and tried rather to deflect attention to Paulinus; so much so that when he does have M artins oWn word for something, Severus makes a point of telling us. We must suppose that Martin was surrounded by a group of monks and other followers who felt strong personal loyalty to him. These are precisely the conditions in which we would expect stories of Martin’s life and deeds to be passed on by word of mouth. Such oral traditions are often characterized by a more or less invariant core, often consisting of a saying by the hero, surrounded by a certain am ount of softer, contextual material, such as the time or place when the incident ifl question occurred, where this is not essential to the story. Thus in the account of Martins leaving the army, the core of the episode is Martin’s defiant speeches to Julian, rather than the precise circumstances in which they occurred. This is not to say that the speeches are necessarily historically accurate, but it is to say that the story would be no less effective if it were located a hundred miles in a n y other direction. There are, it is true, times when these circumstantial details aro most likely to be accurate (because no-one would have an interest in falsifying them); there are also times when they are most likely to be fluid betw een different tellings: a Gallic monk with no experience of the Rhineland m ight locate the action at Worms not because he had himself been told it happened there, but because he had a general notion that it had happened in that p art o f the world.24 In this sort of milieu, it is to be expected that a version of the story told with flair and aplomb is likely to win out over a more pedestrian telling, irrespective of which is the more accurate in its coincidental details. Second, in such oral traditions stories are likely to be circulated as selfcontained units in the first instance. Thus if we suppose a community, in a broad sense, of people swapping stories about Martin, we need not suppose that individual story-tellers were always aware of or concerned with the relative chronology of the incidents they described. It is, however, likely that at an early stage stories were grouped by thematic content; thus e.g. stories of resurrections, stories of destructions of pagan shrines, stories of encounters between M artin and the Devil. It is at least possible too that the tension in oral traditions between the relatively-consistent core and the more variable context may have

141 am, of course, assuming that there were oral traditions surrounding Martin essentially similar in character to those which many scholars have supposed to have surrounded Jesus, with the modification that Martin was better able to orchestrate the different traditions had he wanted to. The literature on oral traditions surrounding Jesus is of course vast; I draw here in particular on the summary in Dunn (2003; 238ff). It is particularly tempting to describe the story of Martins demission as a ‘pronouncement story' or chreia, in which the core and least variant feature is hero's saying, while the general setting may alter in different tellings.

led to the ‘doublets’ beloved of older criticism, the splitting of an original anecdote into two (or more) versions, which are then perceived as separate stories, which cannot then be resolved into any historical sequence. Thus Severus is likely to have found a situation where some stories at least were already clustering together in short sequences which may have borne little relation to the sequence of any underlying historical events. These first two considerations tend to exculpate Severus from the charge of being a fraudulent historian, though they do recognize that he might have been more cautious in his treatment of his sources. The third is more ambiguous; we need to bear in mind the genre of Severus’work in the Vita and the expectations of it.2’ Here the most obvious single model is that of the Gospel accounts, which typically consist of a mosaic of short stories about their hero. The Gospels narratives are, in fact, strung around a recurrent basic chronological scheme: Jesus’activities in Galilee, his entry to Jerusalem and conflict with the authorities there, and his arrest, trial, and crucifixion; but many of the individual episodes (pericopae) within this basic scheme could conceivably be shuffled around in their sequence; there are, moreover, some difficulties which the faithful reader is expected to swallow as best s/he can (Did Jesus cleanse the Temple at the beginning of his work, as in John, or towards the end, as in Matthew, Mark, and Luke? Did he celebrate the Last Supper on the evening of Passover, as in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, or the evening before, as in John?). In particular, none of the Gospel writers offers a detailed chronology of Jesus’ activities in Galilee; statements of the kind and after six days’ (Mark 9:2//Matthew 17:1) are the exception rather than the rule (and even this becomes ‘eight days’ in Luke 9:28). In this context, the vague chronological formulas of the Vita Martini (e.g. 8.1, nec multo post; 12.1, accidit autem insequenti tempore; 13.1, item; 14.1, sub idem fere tempus) are obviously not a satisfactory basis for reconstructing any sort of chronology. It is tempting, then, to seize on some more precise phrase such as irruentibus intra Gallias barbaris (4.1) as offering some sort of chronological anchor. As indeed it does; but still not a very precise one. Quite simply, the generic expectations with which Severus is working do not require this degree of precision. It is to the question of genre that we now turn.

T H E ‘GENRE OF H A G I O G R A P H Y ’ In approaching the Vita Martini it is tempting to ask what generic conventions it follows, and what they tell us about the author’s view of the place of his work 25 It should be clear that my discussion so far Iras largely taken for granted a modern (as opposed to an ancient or postmodern) set of assumptions on the nature of historical enquiry. For an attempt to reconstruct an attitude closer to Severus’own, see now the work of Turner (2012).

26

Introduction

within Christian and wider classical literature.26 As obvious and natural as it feels, one should go about this with caution. The use of the term ‘hagiography to refer to a saint’s life is a modern one, and there is no single set genre of text to which it refers (Baumeister 1998: 311). In what follows, I shall attempt to locate the Vita Martini with reference to those sorts of text with which it has particular affinities. As we will see, these often overlap, making any single identification impossible.

Biblical Influence The four canonical Gospels provide an obvious template for the account o f the teachings and miracles of a famous holy man. The Vita Martini has obvious similarities with them. It shares the same technique of narrative composition by short episodes (often called pericopae by modern scholars). Thus, for instance, chapter 7 of Luke’s Gospel may be broken down into the accounts o f Jesus’ healing of a centurion’s servant (verses 1- 10, 189 words in the Latin Vulgate), of his raising from the dead of a widow’s son ( 11 -17,123 words), o f a visit by disciples of John the Baptist ( 18-23,107) and further discussion arising from it (24-35,202), and of the anointing of Jesus’ feet by a ‘sinful woman’ at a dinner party (36-50,255). These episodes are presumably meant to be read as a chronological sequence, but only the third and fourth are closely linked. For comparison, chapters 11 to 14 of the Vita Martini contain the accounts o f Martin’s encounter with the ghost of an executed criminal (192 words), of his intervention at a peasant’s funeral (163), of the felling of a sacred pine (349), and the destruction of a pagan shrine (231). Again, these are presented m ore or less as a sequence, but with little detailed indication of chronology. We may make some qualifications here. In the examples we have considered, Luke’s narrative units are often longer than those in Mark or Matthew, and John’s technique is quite often different; the Gospels typically move from a loosely strung series of stories centring around Galilee to a much m ore sequential account of the events leading up to Jesus’ death, whereas the Vita Martini moves from a more or less sequential account of the events leading up to Martin’s consecration as bishop of Tours (chapters 1-9) to a rather looser set of stories of his time as bishop. And of course the Gospels differ between 26 The literature on hagiography in general is considerable. Short outlines of the subject, with some bibliography, may be found in standard reference works on early Christianity, e.g. Sahas (1997), Baumeister (1998), Lössl (2004). For some of the more notable interventions, see Delehaye (1926), Hadas and Smith (1965), Cox Miller (1983), Elliot (1987), Heffernan (1988), Williams (2008), Hägg (2012), and the essays by various hands in Edwards and Swain (1997), in Hägg and Rousseau (2000), and in McGing and Mossmann (2006). Newcomers to the field should be aware of the existence of the journal Analecta Bollandiana, where many primary texts and key studies have been published, and of the repertories of texts in the Bibliotheca Hagiographica Graeca and the Bibliotheca Hagiographica Latina.

The ‘Genre of Hagiography’

27

themselves: Matthew and Luke have material on Jesus’ birth, whereas Mark and John show little interest in Jesus’ earthly origins. The Vita Martini begins with a set of reflections on the benefits conferred by the writing and reading of history, which, as we will note, has its origins in classical historiography and is without precedent in the Gospels. It is also notably shorter, at about threequarters of the length of Mark, the shortest Gospel, and the language is much more polished and mannered than anything in the Latin Bible (see this Introduction, Style, passim). But overall the Christian reader would certainly feel throughout the link between the Vita and the Gospels, and so implicitly between Martin and Christ.27 This similarity no doubt reflects in part the circumstances of composition: Sulpicius Severus presents himself as writing up a set of oral traditions rather than a single authoritative narrative, just as the Gospel writers are often seen as doing. But it is not entirely coincidental. While the canon of biblical texts becomes increasingly defined over the fourth century, the reading of saints’ Lives is an important part of Christian spirituality. Thus, while the twentyfourth canon of the Third Synod of Carthage of 397—closely contemporary with the Vita Martini—advises its readers that ‘apart from the canonical Scriptures nothing should be read in church under the name of divine scriptures’ (praeter scripturas canonicas nihil in ecclesia legatur sub nomine divinarum scripturarum), it ends with the provision that ‘it should be permissible for the martyr passions to be read when their anniversaries are being celebrated’ (liceat autem legi passiones martyrum cum anniversarii eorum dies celebrantur). So also the sixth-century Decretum Gelasianum, while distinguishing between the biblical books on the one hand and other sorts of Christian literature on the other, uses essentially the same vocabulary to describe both. The canonical books are listed as those which‘the whole Catholic Church receives’ (universalis catholica recipiat ecclesia)·, but these are followed by a further list of patristic works ‘which are received in the Catholic Church’ (quae in ecclesia catholica recipiuntur), including Jerome’s Lives of Paul and Hilarion, along with the Life o f Antony, which ‘we receive with honour’ (cum honore suscipimus). This is, from a theological perspective, an entirely sensible point of view: a Christian who reasonably declined to take the view that the Church in a d 350 was any less divinely guided than it had been three hundred years earlier might no less reasonably hold that the doings of a contemporary saint were not intrinsically any less worthy of record than those of a Paul or a Silas. This was, in fact, very much Sulpicius Severus’ view of Martin as vere apostolicus (Vita 7.7), a true successor of Paul; or, as he puts it elsewhere,‘among the apostles and prophets’after his death, second to none’among the righteous,

271pass over here the wider question of the literary affiliations between the Gospels and other Greek biographical and historical writings. For a standard account of this, if not unchallenged, see Burridge (1992).

28

Introduction

and‘particularly among those who have washed their robes in blood’ (consertu> apostolis ac prophetis ... in illo iustorum grege nulli secundus ... potissimum φ ι> stolas suas in sanguine laverunt) (Epistle 2.8).

Martyrologies Within the genre of the Christian martyrology, we may detect two sub-type·1': martyr acts (gesta or acta) proper, and the martyrdom story (passio).28 The martyr acts proper typically consist of a bare account of the trial of one or more Christians, sometimes with some information on the background to the case, and its sequel (for examples, see the collection by Musurillo 1972). These in their barest form offer little narrative and little individuation o f the characters. The martyrdom narrative is in some ways a closer model. The classic examples, such as the second-century Passion of Polycarp or the th ird century Passion ofPionius, focus on the action of a single individual, and give a fuller account of the events leading up to his or her death. Most relevant fo r Sulpicius Severus is probably the Passion of Perpetua and Felicity, the fam ous account, widely circulated in both Greek and Latin, of the death of a group o f Christians in Carthage in 203. This too, however, is emphatically a passion narrative and not a Life.282930 A special case of the martyr narrative is that of the military m artyr The New Testament already presents various models of Roman soldiers as sympathetic towards Christianity. By the end of the second century at least, Christians in the army were coming into conflict with the military authorities over their religion (see notes on chapter 2). Tertullian’s De Corona begins w ith a vivid account of one such incident, probably from 201, even if it does not end in martyrdom. Most relevant to the Vita Martini is Typasius, an African veteran put to death in 304, during the persecution under Diocletian. W hat is m ost notable about him for our purposes is the fact that while still serving in the army, he refused the Emperor Maximianus’ donative before a battle, m uch as Martin had done with the Caesar Julian (Vita Martini 4.2); like M artin, he is thrust into chains, only to be released following an unexpected victory. The Passio Typasii as we have it may well reflect a late fourth-century revision rather than a contemporaneous account, and may itself have been influenced by the Vita Martini. Alternatively, the tradition of Martins encounter with

28 Martyrological literature has its roots in Jewish traditions; see Rajak (1997). On the non­ writing of biography as a distinctly Jewish cultural intervention in late antiquity, see Goldhill (2014). "Editions: Passion of Polycarp by Schoedel (1967); Passion of Pionius by Robert (1994); Passion o f Perpetua and Felicity by Hefifernan (2012); see also den Boeft and Bremmer (1985). 30 The classic study of the Greek material is that of Delehaye (1909); excellent collection of online material by David Woods at http://www.ucc.ie/archive/milmart/. See also F ontaine (1980).

The ‘Genre o f Hagiography

29

Julian may have taken shape under the influence of traditions such as those reflected in the Passio Typasii, even if this relatively obscure African saint’s name was quite unknown to Sulpicius Severus. The first example of a Christian Life (vita), as opposed to an account simply of a death, is probably the Life of Cyprian of Pontius (c.260), the story of the bishop and theologian Cyprian of Carthage (died 258). The composite Lifecum-martyrdom is represented also by Eusebius of Caesarea’s lost Life of his teacher, Pamphilus (died 309). Eusebius’ Life o f Constantine is, if not a hagiography, at least a eulogistic biography of a living character.31

Christian Lives The religious innovations of the Emperor Constantine meant that new martyrs became suddenly rarer; the subject’s life, rather than death, became the focus of subsequent works. In particular, the rise of monasticism, at first in the eastern empire and later in the west, provided a new way for the fervent believer to practise a sort of living death for his or her religion. Increasingly it is the life of the holy man or woman, and their deeds and sayings, that becomes the focus of the biography. Early examples of this trend may be seen in the Life o f Pachomius, the founder of Egyptian cenobitism (died 346), which exists in various versions and recensions presumably originating shortly after his death; in the Life of Antony, the Egyptian solitary (died 349), ascribed to Athanasius of Alexandria; and in Gregory of Nyssa’s Life of his sister Macrina (died 379/80), leader of a large religious community in Pontus. Of these, the Life of Antony is uniquely influential on later writings, due to the fact that it was soon translated into Latin, and so came into circulation in the western Roman Empire. Augustine of Hippo famously describes the moment when two ambitious young courtiers at Trier first encountered the work, some time in the early 380s (Confessions 8.6.14-15):32 Ponticianus told us about Antony, the Egyptian monk, whose name was well known among your servants but unknown amongst us till that hour... He told us how on one occasion he and three fellow-officers of his at Trier had gone for a walk in the market gardens adjacent to the city walls ... They were strolling along in pairs, he with one companion and the other two some way apart... The second pair, wandering in no particular direction, stumbled upon a little hovel where lived some servants of yours, poor in spirit, of such as is the Kingdom of Heaven. There they found a book containing the Life of Antony. One of them began to read the Life, and was set on fire with wonder ... He read, and was changed within ... 31 Editions: Passion of Typasius in Analecta Bollandiana 9.122; Life o f Cyprian by Bastiaensen et al. (1975); Life of Constantine by Cameron and Hall (1999). 32 Editions: Life of Pachomius by Halkin (1932); Life of Macrina by Maraval (1971). The earlier, anonymous Latin version of the Life of Anthony is edited by Bartelink et al. (1981).

30

Introduction For as he read the Life and pondered the shifting tides of his heart, groaning intermittently, he discerned the better course, and resolved upon it... .He said to his friend, ‘I have now cut myself off from the hope we shared, and decided to serve God. This choice I undertake in this place and from this hour. If you will not be like me, do not be against me.’ His friend replied that he would stand by him and share with him in this great reward and great service.

The influence of the Life of Antony can be felt throughout the Life o f Martirt. Both involve a man who, at an early age, renounces ‘the world’ to pursue a monastic vocation. Each man has numerous encounters with demons an d with the Devil, whom he faces down (it is instructive to compare Gregory’s Life of Macrina, in which demons and the Devil are mentioned once each). Each comes, despite his desire for solitude, to be a sought-after holy m an.33 At the same time, the Life of Martin cannot be read simply as a Latin equivalent of the Life o f Antony. Sulpicius Severus’work is not only shorter, b u t starker. Thus Antony is brought up a Christian, and his commitment to th e religious life after his parents’death is a natural extrapolation from his existing faith. Martin’s parents are pagans. His early conversion is seen as leading to conflict with his father. Later he succeeds in converting his mother, but h j s father ‘perseveres in his error’. Antony is portrayed as a preacher, and we h e a r a lengthy homily of his on the impotence of demons (16-43) and on th e superiority of Christianity to traditional cult (74-80); the Vita Martini contains isolated dicta of its hero, but no more. Both Antony and Martin have encounters with demons, and sometimes with the Devil himself. In the Life o f Antony, however, the main scenes involving the Devil occur early on (as a w om an in chapter 5; as a ‘black boy’, 6), and moreover the line between the Devil an d demons generally is sometimes blurred (as in chapter 9, when the Devil instigates an attack by demons). There is also, as we have noted, an interest in the nature of demons and their place in the wider order of the world. In the Vïifl Martini, on the other hand, the Devil is introduced early on (he opposes Martin on his journey to Illyria, chapter 6), but the theme is not resum ed till near the end of the work, when Martin has a series of encounters with him (after a peasant is gored to death, chapter 21; in the form of a pagan god, 22; through the agency of the false monk Anatolius, 23; and lastly, in the form o f Christ, 24). And while Martin has an active ministry as an exorcist, there is little in the Vita that suggests a more philosophical interest in these intermediate beings. For all their similarities, then, the Vita Martini is a tauter and more confrontational work than the Life o f Antony. We may note also that Martin is a bishop, whereas Antony is not. This is a key theme for the Vita Martini, as Severus repeatedly contrasts Martin’s evangelical simplicity and directness with the superficial and time-serving attitude of other 33 What is offered here is only an outline of some of the main topics. For a careful study of the intertextual relations between the conclusions of the two Lives, see Tornau (2001).

The ‘Genre o f Hagiography’

31

contemporary bishops. There is an implicit contrast too with the heroes of Jerome’s three saints’ Lives, those of Paul the Hermit (c.377-82), Hilarion (c.390-3), and Malchus (c.391), all of which deal with eastern saints who are ascetics and who hold no church office, as does his Epistle 108, effectively a Life of the ascetic Paula.34 Martin in contrast is both a bishop and the head of a cenobitic community which supplies bishops to other parts of Gaul.

Wider Influences Ancient biographical literature is diverse, and capable of various schematic divisions and groupings (for a survey, see Pelling 2012). Models for saints’Lives have often been sought in the tradition of the so-called ‘divine man biography, typically some philosopher-sage or theurgist. Perhaps the best-known of these is the Life o f Apollonius of Tyana, the semi-legendary first-century NeoPythagorean philosopher, by L. Flavius Philostratus (died c.250). Other notable examples include two works by Porphyry of Tyre (c.233-305): the Life of Pythagoras (originally part of a larger History of Philosophy) and the Life of Plotinus, the Neo-Platonic philosopher who was Porphyry’s teacher. Another pupil of Porphyry’s, Iamblichus (c. 245-325), also produced a Life o f Pythagoras. These are sometimes known as the ‘divine man (deios άνήρ) type of biography, the hero being presented as someone approaching superhuman status.35 This tradition of writing is certainly influential on some Christian saints’ Lives, perhaps especially in the Greek tradition, where ‘becoming divine’{θέωσις) has long been seen as the Christian ideal for humans. However, there is no direct influence of such lives on the Vita Martini, and even the indirect influence is faint; Martin is a ‘man of God’ (vir dei), but in the sense that the term is applied to such Old Testament figures as Saul, Elijah, and Elisha (often in contradistinction to secular rulers) rather than a ‘divine man’ in the philosophical sense. The closest models for the Vita Martini outside Christian literature come, unsurprisingly, from the Latin side. Similarities have been drawn between the episodic style of writing, noted above, and the Suetonian mode of biography, typically a depiction of the subject’s character through a series of actions or sayings, rather than a sequential account of his life (Luck 1964); though close allusions to Suetonius in the Vita are rare. Rather, the opening sentences of the Vita recall in particular the first-century b c historian Sallust, whose Catiline and Jugurtha were standard school texts; Livy, the Augustan historian of Rome from its foundation; and Tacitus, the late-first/early-second-century author 34 Editions: Life of Hilarion and Epistle 108 by Bastiaensen and Smit (1983); Life o f Malchus by Gray (2015); Lives of Paul, Malchus, and Hilarion by Leclerc et al. (2007). 35 On these figures, see discussions in Hadas and Smith (1965, with a useful selection of texts) and in Anderson (1994). Editions: Life of Apollonius by Conybeare (1912); Life o f Plotinus by Brisson (1982-92); Life of Pyathagoras by Deubner (1975), with Clark (1989).

n/a [Contest with prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel, 3Regnorum 18:17ff] Conflict with religious authorities

Flight/withdrawal (often to wilderness) under persecution/for prayer

(Continued)

In conflict with bishops, 9.3,27.3; cf 11.2,20.1; perhaps 16.6

To Gallinaria, 6.5; at Levroux, 14.4

[Exercised ministry'in the Flight to Egypt, Matthew 2:13ff; wilderness’, Matthew 3:1] frequent withdrawal either from persecution or for prayer, e.g. Matthew 12:15,14:13; counsels flight in persecution, Matthew 10:23 Tense interview with With Pharisees, Sadducees, and emissaries from Temple Temple authorities, passim in authorities, John l:19ff Gospels [Accompanies King Jehoram through the Wilderness of Edom, 4Regnorum 3:8]

Locusts and wild honey, Matthew 3:4

[Fed by ravens, 3Regnorum 17:4, eats cake baked on hot stones’ and water, 3Regnorum 19:6] Flight to wilderness under persecution from Jezebel, 3Regnorum 19:lff Coarse food

[Reverses poisonous effect of wild gourds, 4Regnorum 4:39]

Camel-hair clothing and leather belt, 3Regnorum 1:8

36 See notes on chapter 1 of the Vita, passim. 37 The presentation of typology given here is necessarily short and schematic; no attempt is made to consider Jewish modes of exegesis, the contribution of Origen and others to biblical criticism, or indeed the salience of this subject in much twentieth-century scholarship; for a survey of the last two of these, see Martens (2008).

Coarse clothing

The reader of the Vita Martini may be expected to note similarities betwe Martin himself and various biblical characters, notably Jesus but also the Old Testament prophets Elijah and Elisha; also between M artin and John the Baptist, seen in Christianity as the forerunner of Jesus. Some o f these similarities are summarized in Table 1 (more general similarities are given in square brackets).37

Elijah

TYPOLOGY IN THE NEW TESTAMENT

n/a

Dirty clothing, 9.3; cheap clothing, 10.1; camel-hair cloth 10.8; sackcloth and ash, 14.4; sackcloth, 18.4 Lives on roots and hellebore and drives off poisonous effects by prayer, 5.14 n/a [though refers to ‘sackcloth and ash’ as sign of repentance at Matthew 11:21] Camel-hair clothing and leather belt, Matthew 3:4 [Receives cloak of Elisha, 3Regnorum 19:19,4Regnorum 2:12]

Jesus John Elisha

whose historical works paint a bleak picture of the mechanics of power in the early Imperial period.36These reminiscences are presumably intended to signal to the reader how to understand what follows. The Livian allusions tell us that this is an exemplary history, presenting Martin as a paradigm of Christian conduct. The Sallustian and Tacitean allusions suggest a generally pessimistic view of human life, both in its fragility and in the general tendency of m oral ambition to be overcome by lust, avarice, or mere sloth. In particular, Severus’ Martin has affinities, both in theme and scale, with Tacitus’ father-in-law Agricola, who in the work of that name is presented as the radiant proof that it is possible for good men to live even under bad emperors. However w hü literary allusions, especially to Sallust, recur throughout the Vita (as f* 6 instance, in the implicit comparison in chapter 10 of Martin’s m onaste’ ^ Marmoutier with the fortress at Mulucca in Numidia described by s l7 ^ Jugurtha 92), it is not in general terms revealing to place the Vita in the ^ historical genre as Sallust’s monographs, much less with Livy’s massive h -Same How far, then, if at all, does a consideration of literary genre α ΐΓ ΐςΓ °ΓΥ' understanding of the Vita Martini? We began with the observation that the ° Ur ‘hagiography’ is anachronistic when applied to fourth-century literature that there are no fixed norms that would constitute a ‘genre’. We have obs^ aild further that in so far as we can identify recurrent themes in early saints’? · ^ some of them, unsurprisingly, resemble other, non-Christian biographie even here, we cannot exclude contact with other modes of writing, such* ^ Ut historical monograph or the novelistic account; in Hägg’s summary (2012^ ^ ‘Biography... is never a closed genre (if a genre at all).Ί suggest it is most f · ’ not to attempt to compare the Vita Martini to some notional genre w h i c h ^ ^ constantly be defined into existence, but rather to concentrate on specific mUSt of overlap, and perhaps influence, from other texts, as they occur. C P° mts

Martin

Introduction

Table 1 Some examples of typology

32

At Paris, 18.3 After Transfiguration, Matthew 8:2-3; ten lepers, Luke 17:5ff; cf Matthew 11:12 n/a

Widow’s son of Zarephath, 3Regnorum 17:8ff

n/a

Raisings from the dead

Cleansing of lepers

Naaman the Syrian, 4Regnorum 5

Young student, 7.Iff; hanged slave, 8.1 if; cf healing of dying girl, 16.7 Jairus’daughter, Matthew 9:18ff (perhaps); widow’s son of Nain, Luke 7:1 Iff; Lazarus, John 11 n/a

[Kills prophets of Baal, 3Regnorum 18:40] Destruction of religious sites

Shunammites son, 4Regnorum 4:8ff

Destruction of sacred pine and other sites, 13.Iff [Cleansing of the Temple, Matthew 21:12ff]

Caution against ‘the leaven of Refusal to fight for Herod’, Mark 8:15; trial before Julian, 4.1 ff; tense Pilate, Matthew 17:11; before interview with Herod, Luke 23:6-12; cf Matthew Maximus, 20.1 if 10:18

Tense interview with Condemnation of Herod’s Jehoram, 4Regnorum marriage, Matthew 14:1 if; 3:13ff theological discussions with Herod, Mark 6:19ff; [advice to publicani and to Roman soldiers on how to be good imperialists, Luke 3:12-14] n/a n/a Tense relationship with Ahab, 3Regnorum 18;17ff; destroys emissaries of Ahaziah, 4Regnorum l:2ff Fraught relationship with state authorities

___________________________________________________________

_ ________

Elisha______________ John___________________ Jesus_________________________ Martin______________ Elijah

_

________ ___ (C o n tin u ed )

T able 1

Typology in the New Testament

35

The term ‘typology’ is sometimes invoked as a means of understanding such parallels, as found in the Vita Martini and in other ancient hagiographies. No less a critic than Fontaine (1963) proclaimed it as a ‘literary key’ to understand­ ing the work.38 As this term is often used in varying senses, it may help to dis­ tinguish some of the ways it may be applicable here. While typology in general is the process whereby a character or thing or situation in one story acts as an anticipation or model for a character or thing or situation in a later story, we may provisionally distinguish four ways in which the term may be applied.39 First, there is what we might call strict or philosophical typology, reflecting Plato’s view that the objects of sense-perception are only partial and provisional, and derive what reality they have from their participation in the ‘ideas’ or ‘types’ which exist outside space and time. Within the New Testament, this is best attested in the Letter to the Hebrews, the author of which famously suggests that the cultic practices instituted under the Torah reflect and find fulfilment in the priestly work of Jesus; a key proof-text here is Yahweh’s instruction to Moses, ‘See that you make all things [i.e. the Tabernacle of the Covenant] in accordance with the type (κατά τον τύπον) shown you on the Mountain [i.e. Sinai]’ (Exodus 25:40, quoted at Hebrews 8:5; cf Acts 7:44). A similar mode of interpretation may be found in the writings of Philo, intellectual leader of the Jewish community in Alexandria around the middle of the first century a d ; while the extent of Philos direct influence on Hebrews is debated, it is clear that both authors have in Plato a common source for their notions of typology. The same basic pattern of thought occurs in Paul’s famous words at ICorinthians 13:12, that ‘we see now in a mirror, in a riddle’, even though the language of typology is not used explicitly here. Secondly, there are a range of semi-technical uses of the term also found within the New Testament. Some are not far from the ‘philosophical’ sense found in Hebrews, as when Paul describes Adam as a type of that which was to come’ (presumably Christ; Romans 6:17). Others are more general, as when Paul himself describes the lapses of the Hebrews in the wilderness as ‘a type for us, so that we should not be desirous of evil things’ (ICorinthians 1: 6), or when Titus is urged to be ‘a type of good works’ (Titus 2:7). In these cases the term τύ π ο ς may be used to mean little more than ‘model, example’. Thirdly, there are within the New Testament various cases where individuals and events act in some way as recapitulations of individuals or events in the Old. Thus, for instance, in Matthew’s nativity narrative (Matthew 1-2) the journey of the Holy Family to Egypt, in flight from the murderous Herod, recapitulates in turn Abraham’s aborted sacrifice of Isaac (compare Genesis 22:2

58 For a recent general survey of the phenomenon, see Williams (2008: 9ff). 39 On typology in the New Testament, the article by Amann (1950) is still useful for providing basic orientation, despite its overtly confessional framework; useful too are the essays by Lampe and Woollcombe (1957). For rather more recent bibliography, see Evans (1992).

36

Introduction

with Matthew 2:20), Joseph son of Jacobs sojourn in Egypt, Pharaohs slaying of the firstborn, and the eventual return of the Hebrew people to the Land of Promise. While again Matthew does not use the language of typology (or indee4 of recapitulation), the similarities between the two modes of thought are clear; iq each case the later character repeats and in some way fulfils the actions of thq earlier, which now gain their full meaning in the light of this repetition. Lastly, we may point to more general ways in Graeco-Roman literature ii\ which historical or mythical figures are identified as forerunners of latet· historical figures. The classic example of this is surely the Aeneid, where it ha^ always been acknowledged that Aeneas in some sense anticipates Augustus, and that Dido is (albeit in a looser sense) a sort of Cleopatra figure. Whil^ classical scholars differ on the extent to which they feel the term ‘typology’ % applicable here, the basic principle is clear enough.10 To appreciate the possibilities and limitations of the typological approach for our reading of the Vita Martini, it may be useful if we step back and consider a series of passages in the Gospels where the relationship of John the Baptist and of Jesus to each other and to the prophets of the Old Testament is discussed. Thus Mark’s Gospel begins with the appearance of John the Baptist in the wilderness of Judaea, ‘clothed with camel’s hair, and with a leather girdle around his waist, and eating locusts and wild honey’—an account which clearly recalls Elijah’s appearance at 4Regnorum 1:8,‘wearing a garment of hair-clot^, with a girdle of leather about his loins’. Likewise at Mark 6:14ff, Jesus’ reputation is beginning to spread around Galilee: Some said, ‘John the baptizer has been raised from the dead; that is why these powers are at work in him.’ But others said,‘It is Elijah.’ And others said,‘It is a prophet, like one of the prophets of old.’ But when Herod heard of it, he said,‘John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.’

Likewise at Mark 8:27ff, Jesus asks his disciples: ‘Who do people say I am?’ And they told him, ‘John the Baptist; and others say, Elijah; and others, one of the prophets.’And he asked them,‘Who do you say that I am?’Peter answered him,‘You are the Christ.’And he charged them to tell no-one about him.

And likewise at Mark 9:1 Iff, Jesus’ disciples question him: Why do the scribes say that Elijah must come first?’ And he said to them ,‘Elijah coming first restores [or, will restore] all things... but I tell you Elijah has come, and they did to him whatever they pleased, as it is written of him.’40

40 For a strongly typological reading of the Aeneid, see Gransden (1974). Most scholars do not use the language of typology in discussing such relations, but the term seems applicable at least in a general sense.

Typology in the Vita Martini

37

Two observations should be made about these curious debates. First, we typically encounter them in the mouth o f ‘the people’, or at best in the mouth of that amateur theologian Herod the Tetrarch (compare Mark 6:20). But even in these stories, as written up by the evangelists, a more philosophical element may be present. Thus at Mark 9:12, Jesus refers to Elijah’s coming to ‘restore all things’ (ά π ο κα θιστα νεΐ πάντα). This is a verbal reminiscence of Malachi 4:5, where Elijah will return ‘to restore the heart of father towards son, and the heart of man towards his neighbour’ (os ά ποκα τα στησ ^ι καρδίαν πατρός προς υιόν και καρδίαν ανθρώπου προς τον πλησίον αύτου), but with a difference; Elijah’s ‘restoration of all things’ may also be read as an evocation of the Stoic doctrine of the apocatastasis, the periodic restoration of the world through fire. Second, they prove intellectually difficult even for the Gospel writers them­ selves. Thus Herod’s confident assertion in Mark that Jesus is John redivivus is toned down in Luke 9:9 to a question: ‘John I beheaded, but who is that about whom I hear such things?’ Jesus’ cryptic observation that ‘Elijah has come’ is given an explanatory note at Matthew, ‘Then the disciples understood that he was speaking to them of John the Baptist.’ In the Gospel according to John, however, such equations are rejected altogether; John the Baptist roundly denies that he is the Christ, or Elijah, or ‘the prophet’ (presumably the anony­ mous ‘prophet from among their own brethren’ of Deuteronomy 18:18). In short, such equations between characters may be seen as real in some sense. Mark clearly presents John the Baptist in a way which is meant to recall Elijah; Jesus himself appears to underwrite this. At the same time, they are not final or conclusive; Jesus himself does not make them explicitly, or even directly endorse them.

T Y P O L O G Y IN T H E V I T A M A R T I N I Typological interpretations, then, may be complex and difficult to sustain. None the less, they served Jesus’ earliest followers as a means of understanding his life and work as the completion and fulfilment of Judaism. By the later fourth century, however, Christianity had for the most part developed a separate identity. The figurative interpretation of the Jewish Scriptures could be largely taken for granted. So what is the continuing value of the typology approach, both in the Vita Martini and elsewhere? One answer to this lies in the Christian belief that Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection represented in some sense the culmination and end of history. However, history had patently not come to a close by the fourth century. Not everyone could see the period between the most recent sighting of Jesus in the flesh and his coming as eschatological judge as a mere interlude, punctuated by

38

Introduction

persecutions. Typology, it was found, could be made to fill a new purpose, namely that of making sense of the continued existence of the world, and the events in it. Thus even within the New Testament corpus itself, the death of the first Christian martyr Stephen is cast as recapitulation of the death of Jesus. Even though, as Williams (2008: 15) notes, ‘Stephen was not “prefigured” by Christ... Christ was, after all, perfect already,’there remains a strain in Christian thinking which, drawing on Pauls words at Colossians 1:24 (‘I rejoice in my sufferings (passionibus) on your account and I complete in my flesh that which is lacking in the sufferings of Christ’), emphasized the role of the m artyr as both vicarious sufferer for the sake of the community and in some sense as Christ himself. Moreover, such interpretations are not confined to martyrs. Eusebius in his Vita Constantini repeatedly presents the emperor as a second Moses, divinely inspired both as a religious and political leader, respected by pagans, Jews, and Christians alike (Cameron and Hall 1999: 35ff, with references).41 As with Stephen, this is, of course, a more complex sort of typology than that which we have noted before; it is not suggested that Moses is the earthly anticipation and Constantine the celestial archetype, but rather each reflects the other, and both reflect Christ as the great original of which they are the exemplars. Sulpicius Severus is, of course, a very different writer from Eusebius, not least in his rejection of the bishop of Caesarea’s easy optimism about the harmony of church and state in the new, Christian age. He is, however, sim ilar in the fact that he uses Old Testament themes and allusions to shape his readers’ understanding of his subject. As we have noted, M artin’s actions clearly recall in various ways those of Elijah, Elisha, and John the Baptist. The connexions between the figures may be oblique; it is hard to miss the similarities between the key scene where M artin divides his cloak w ith a beggar {Vita Martini 3) and that where Elisha, on inheriting the m antle of Elijah, tears his own clothes in half (4Regnorum 2:12), but it is difficult to identify Martin with only one of the two Old Testament prophets. Moreover, both Elijah and Elisha offer models of characters who to a greater or lesser extent enjoyed prickly relations with the powers that be; an im portant consideration, as Severus is at some pains to stress both the tensions between Martin and the authorities of his day, and the extent to which he rem ains a counsellor, if a reluctant one, of emperors. At the same time, we should note that Severus generally avoids direct identification between M artin and any of these. Indeed, the one character who does claim directly to be Elijah, the young man of Spain in 24.1, is clearly heretical if not diabolical in inspiration; Severus is careful to suppress his name. 41 To which add Rapp’s (2010) study of Old Testament models for depictions of early Byzantine emperors.

Typology in the Vita Martini

39

Martin also stands in some sort of typological relationship to Paul. Both are preachers who undertake long missionary journeys, who are at times compelled to take flight from persecution, who raise the dead; Severus himself refers to Martin as vere apostolicus, which probably means ‘true successor to Paul’ (7.7; see note ad loc.). Again, there are telling complexities in Paul’s life which are recalled in Martin’s. The biblical Acts of the Apostles present him as a Roman citizen who is typically protected by the Roman state from the more hostile sections of the Jewish community; the Vita Martini presents its hero as a man willing, up to a point, to talk with kings, but not one who acquiesced to interference by the state in church affairs.42 How far, then, is there an explicit theology of types within the Vita Martini? Would it, indeed, be more convincing to point rather to literary allusions to the Bible without invoking the notion of typology at all? This objection is cogent in so far as the Vita Martini does not present itself as a work of philosophical history—rather the contrary (cf 1.4). Where Severus is writing something closer to traditional Roman history, in his Chronica, he invokes typological explanations occasionally and cautiously.43 However, apart from the general thematic concerns adduced above, there are two specific choices of word which may encourage us to take this view. First, there is the language of examples. The word exemplum appears twelve times in the Vita Martini, and in some salient contexts: Martin is destined to be an example to others ( 1.6, with note), he saves others by his example (6.3), his disciples are trained according to his example (10.5), and by his example he makes the impossible possible (25.5). All these may, of course, go no further than the common classical trope that the value of history lies in providing the reader with models for imitation. However, there are various biblical translations in which exemplum or exemplar is used to express the idea of a type. We have noted the key passage in Hebrews 8:5, where the Hebrew people ‘serve the type (ήποδείγμ α τι, Vulgate exemplari) and adumbration of the heavenly things ... according to the pattern {τύπον, exemplar) which was shown you on the mountain’. Not directly typological, but certainly capable of such an interpretation, is John 13:15, T have given you a model (ύπ ό ύα γμ α , exemplum), that you should do what I have done.’ 12 A theme clear in the Vita Martini, but perhaps clearest in the account of the Priscillianist controversy in Chronica 2.46ff, where Severus, while condemning the beliefs of Priscillian and his followers, repeatedly criticizes the active desire of the orthodox inquisitors to see the Priscillianists tried by secular officials rather than by their fellow-bishops. 43 The question is explored in van Andel (1976: 62-83), with particular reference to Severus’ interpretation of the Old Testament. Van Andel points to the influence of Hilary of Poitiers’ Tractatus Mysteriorum on Severus, citing Hilary’s statements that everything in the Bible ‘proclaims [Christ’s coming] by words or expresses it through deeds or confirms by examples (or perhaps‘confirms by types’; dictis nuntiat etfactis exprimit et confirmat exemplis)’(1.1,2), but also that the exegete should know when to interpret the Bible in its literal sense and when typologically ( 2 . 11).

40

The Style of the Vita Martini

Introduction

Second, we find a theology of imitation.44*Severus begins his work by holding Martin up as a model for imitation, and closes it with a jibe at those incapable of such imitation; Martin himself holds up Paulinus of Nola as a model. This may seem odd to modern readers, who might expect Jesus to be the ultimate example for believers. Underlying this pattern, however, is the key proof-text found in its canonical form at ICorinthians 11:1: ‘Be imitators of me,then,asl of Christ.’ ‘Imitation in this sense often approaches the philosophical notion of participation, as found in the Platonic and Stoic traditions (for a fuller discussion, see the note on imitandus at 1.6). Just as in Platonism, particulars derive their identity from participation in the Forms (thus all examples of fours—four children, four trees, four seasons, and so on—derive their fourness from participation in, or imitation of, the Form or Idea of Four), so also the ‘imitators of Jesus’ are not so much people who outwardly copy the words or actions of Jesus, but those who derive their Jesus-like qualities from active participation in him. Imitating Paul in his imitation of Jesus is effectively to participate in Jesus himself; so also imitating Martin, or imitating Paulinus, On this understanding, then, the language of imitation is effectively used to describe a typological theology. The language of example and imitation is, of course, entirely understandable! within the framework of traditional Roman exemplary history. From ^ sceptical stance, we might dismiss altogether any suggestion that the Vita Martini relies on any sort of philosophical or theological doctrine of typology. Given, however, the familiarity of the idea in ancient thought generally, and ii\ Christian hermeneutics in particular, it is likely that a semi-popular version of typological theory at least informs the work. Fontaine’s characterization of this as a ‘key’to the work may be an uncharacteristic exaggeration. None the less, it remains an important dimension of the work, and an attempt to establish ait intellectual claim for the hagiographical genre.

T H E STYLE OF T H E V I T A M A R T I N I It is sometimes supposed that Christian Latin literature is characterized by its relative lack of stylistic adornment and by its closeness to the language of 44 The literature on mimesis is vast. For a useful survey with bibliography of its development within earlier Christianity, see Reis (2007). As Reis’ survey draws heavily on the theoretical framework advanced by Castelli (1991), it may be worth considering how far Castellis theories are applicable to the Vita Martini. Castelli traces a ‘discourse of power’ in the inevitable shortfall between Paul the imitand and every conceivable imitation. In the Vita Martini, however, Martin is clearly a vir apostolicus, a man of equal standing with the Apostle (Reis himself reaches a similar conclusion in his discussion of Ignatius of Antioch’s self-presentation as imitator of Christ). The question is rather whether any one human (Martin, Paulinus, or any other) can serve as a model for imitation.

41

everyday speech. Whatever the merits of such a view in connexion with other texts, it would be quite incorrect of the Vita Martini;^ for while Severus draws on a stock of distinctly Christian idioms which were well established by the late fourth century, he also draws on and exploits a wide range of stylistic devices from classical Latin. Indeed, the work cannot be fully appreciated without an understanding of the dialogue between ‘classical’ and ‘Christian’ elements in the style. In what follows, I work outwards, moving from the relatively objective and quantifiable features of the language to the relatively subjective features. It will be suggested that Severus repeatedly invokes previous authors as stylistic models, notably but not uniquely Sallust, Tacitus, Cicero, Virgil, Ovid, and the Latin Bible.46 Such invocations may, however, be both fleeting and complex; thus, to anticipate a point raised below, a reference to Matin’s virtutes may suggest simultaneously the qualities of a distinguished Roman of old and the miracles performed by Jesus. It follows that the analysis below is necessarily schematic.

Lexis ‘Christian Vocabulary For present purposes, we take it as uncontroversial that Christian writers had a stock of distinct words which they regularly used to express specialized religious concepts. The discussion here begins with these, and follows the familiar division of them into three main classes (see e.g. Coleman 1989, Burton 2000: 120-48, Clackson and Horrocks 2007: 197-8): first, Greek loanwords; second, Latin words modelled or calqued on Greek models; third, semantic extensions (also known as loan shifts), that is, words used in extended or specialized senses in Christian uses. To these is added a fourth class, namely words and forms used with special frequency in Christian authors while not referring to specifically Christian ideas; we may call these semi-covert Christian usages.

Greek Loanwords The following is a complete list of Greek words in the Vita Martini, excluding some very old loanwords (such as poena) and including some to which

43 Christian Latin writers invoke a range of styles, as admirably demonstrated by Coleman (1987). For an attempt to rehabilitate some aspects of the hypothesis of a special‘Christian Latin’, see Burton (2011). 40 There seems to have been little attention given in recent years to Severus’ Latin style. Among older works, there is a study by Goelzer (1883) and one by Paucker (1884). I have been unable to consult J. Ftirtner ( 1881 ), ‘Sulp. Sev. als Nachahmer des Verg.,’in BlbayGymn. 17, pp. 97-107, and J. Schell (1892), De Sulp. Sev. Sallustianae Livianae Taciteae elocutionis imitatore, Diss. Münster.

42

Introduction

specifically Latin derivational morphology has been attached (such as diaconatus, philosophor). 3.3, angelus·, 7.7, apostolicus; 2.6, baptismus; 17.4, baptizo·, 4.1, barbarus; 10.8, camelus;2.3,catechumenus;3.2,chlamys; 14.4, cilicium; 11.2, clericus; 13.2, daemon; 6.1, diabolus; 5.2, diaconatus; 24.4, diadema; 2.3, ecclesia; 1.7, episcopatus; 3.4, eremus; 2.8, evangelium; 5.2, exorcista; 6.4, haeresis; 23.9, hymnus; 15.3, idolum; 18.3, leprosus; l l . l , martyr; 2.7, monachus; 3,4 monasterium; 23.1 i,phantasia; 1.5, philosophia; 1.3, philosophor; 23.4, p/aga; 6.5, presbyterus; 9.4, propheticus; 9.6, psalmus; 9.5, psalterium; Epistula ad Desiderium 1, scheda; Epistula ad Desiderium 5, soloecismus; 24.7, stigma; 4.4, tyrannus

The list may be divided into three sub-sets. First, there are those words which are attested in earlier, secular Latin. Strictly speaking these do not belong in 4 discussion of Christian Latin, but they may conveniently be treated here^ This list would clearly include the following: barbarus, camelus, chlamys, cilicium, daemon, diadema,philosophia,philosophor, plaga, soloecismus, stigma, tyrannus. Secondly, there is the sub-set of those words which have entered or estab­ lished themselves in Latin through their use in biblical translations. This list would include angelus, apostolicus, baptismus, baptizo, diabolus, diaconus/-atus, ecclesia, episcopus/-atus, evangelium, exorcista, hymnus, martyr, presbyterus, psalmus. Thirdly, there is a smaller set of words found neither in non-Christian nor ir\ biblical use, but rather as a sort of second generation of Christian loanwords. This class would include catechumenus, clericus, monachus/monasterium. These classes are not watertight. The attestation of a Greek word in a nonChristian text does not prove that this word had a wide currency, or even that it was known to more than a handful of people. Examples might include ecclesia, haeresis, idolum, phantasia, all of which are attested in non-Christiai\ sources in a more or less different sense; thus ecclesia = ‘town assembly not ‘church’, haeresis ‘philosophical sect’ not ‘heresy’, idolum ‘[that which creates or constitutes an] image’ (in Epicurean theory of vision), also once in Pliny the Younger ghost’, phantasia ‘[that which creates or constitutes an] image’ (in Stoic theory of vision). The extent to which these are seen as distinct senses is, of course, variable and sometimes hard to pin down. A related case is tyrannus, in earlier Latin use ‘king’, usually (but not always) in a bad sense; in biblical Greek, and subsequently in biblical Latin, especially associated with the sacrilegious Seleucid rulers opposed by the Maccabees (thus e.g. 2Maccabees 4:25), and hence in wider Christian use of persecuting officials more generally (see note on 4.3). Conversely, some words may have been known at least to some Latin speakers, but not attested in extant earlier sources. A case in point is eremus, which is not found in extant Latin before Tertullian. It is presumably its use in

The Style of the Vita Martini

43

biblical translations which provides the model for its use in wider Christian literature (on which Burton 2000: 145-6), but it is entirely plausible that it had entered the language when Latin-speakers encountered the distinctly arid semi-deserts of the near east (for English parallels, we might think of the use of loanwords such as maquis or tundra or veldt). Indeed, it is hard to see why it was used in biblical Latin in the first place if it were incomprehensible, given the existence of good Latin equivalents (desertum, solitudo). The same might also have been true of diaconus; we have noted how Cicero can use episcopus on the safe assumption that Atticus will understand; perhaps also of clericus and exorcista.

Calques Calquing is the process by which a word of more than one element in one language (here Greek) is reflected by a new word in another language (here Latin), the structure of which matches the original word element for element. Examples in the Vita Martini include 10.7, infirmitas; 16.4, benedico

It should be stressed that these words are not caiques in the sense of being novel when used in the Vita Martini, but in the sense that Sulpicius Severus’ use of them probably reflects their use in biblical Latin as translations of aadeveta, and eùXoyéoj respectively. O11 a strict view these words are not caiques at all even there, as infirmitas is common in prose at all periods, and benedico or bene dico has a similarly long history. They are included here because in some sense at least they contribute to the general ‘Christianness’ of the language of the Vita. Thus infirmitas is the biblical word par excellence for ‘illness’ (as opposed to e.g. morbus, aegritudo), whereas in classical Latin it is a more general term for‘weakness’ and usually qualified (infirmitas corporis/ valetudinis) when used of a physical ailment. Likewise, benedico is not a common syntagm in classical Latin, and in any case the concept is arguably a distinctly Christian one. This set of Christian words is notably smaller in the Vita Martini than either that of loanwords or semantic extensions. This presumably reflects a wider trend, namely the fact that while caiques are often employed in Latin as an alternative to a newly borrowed word, they are often ousted fairly quickly by the loanwords.

Semantic Extensions (Loan Shifts) Words in this class include (first instance only): 9.3, antistes ‘bishop’; 5.4, frater ‘co-religionist’; 2.1,gentilis ‘pagan’; 3.1, misericordia ‘alms’; 23.3, nuntius angel’; 5.3, peregrinatio ‘(religious) journey’; 10.2, propositum ‘(monastic) intention’; 6.4, sacerdos, ‘bishop’; Epistula ad Desiderium 4, saeculum ‘the world’; Epistula ad Desiderium 5, virtus ‘miraculous power, miracle’.

Introduction

The Style of the Vita Martini

Again, cases of semantic extension are not always easy to identify with precision. Thus we may identify frater co-religionist’ as a semantic extensio^ and point to similar uses in the Greek New Testament as a model (example are legion, especially in Acts and the Pauline Epistles); the term is later extender to mean ‘monk’, presumably still on the model of the Greek αδελφοί·. But i^ classical Latin we already find frater used in reference and address to close friends and allies, as well as to fellow-members of a religious sodality ( Thesaunis Linguae Latinae 6.1.1257.28ff). In some cases where a word seems to posse% a sense in Christian use which is significantly different from its classic^ meaning, we may find it hard to identify which sense is prominent. This is i^ fact a key feature of Severus’ style. Thus virtus in classical Latin is the quality of masculinity, courage, or general moral excellence; in Christian use, as a translation of άρετή, it often bears the sense ‘miracle, miraculous power’; Severus uses it so in announcing the Vita Martini as an account of his hero’s virtutes (see note on Epistula ad Desiderium 5). Likewise gratia in Christian use often bears the sense of ‘divine favour, grace’, alongside such classical meanings as ‘popularity, charisma’. So when we learn that M artin as a bishop is full of gratia (10.2), we cannot say here whether we should understand this specifically in the Christian sense, or whether he enjoys the gratia of the successful Roman statesman; probably both. These semantic extensions, like the loanwords noted above, belong to differ­ ent strata of linguistic interaction. Some, notably gentilis, misericordia, saecu­ lum, virtus, are prominent features of biblical Latin and owe their currency in Christian usage to this source. Others, notably antistes and sacerdos (both in the sense ‘bishop’) are not particularly prominent in biblical Latin (though this may in part be a function of the vagaries of textual transmission). Others again, notablyfrater and peregrinatio, have some biblical precedent, but become more common with the rise of monasticism and pilgrimage in the earlier fourth century. The distribution of loanwords and semantic extensions deserves some comment. It has been suggested (Fruyt 2011: 154-5) that Christian writers tend to use Greek words for tangible things (e.g. ecclesia) and Latin words for intangible (e.g. gratia). Granted the relatively small sample of Latin contained in the Vita Martini, it is difficult to say that the evidence here bears this out. Even within its own terms, this is an intriguing rather than a wholly persuasive theory. An ecclesia is a community, as much imaginary as real, and only secondarily a building. An episcopus is a tangible object, seen from a particular point of view. The saeculum contains all things physical, but again with metaphysical connotations. Virtus is miraculous power, but specifically as instantiated in some concrete action. In so far as we can comment on the relative distribution of these two linguistic phenomena, we may make three general observations. First, that the use of loanwords and semantic extensions offers Christian readers a form of mild esotericism; there is no doubt a certain sense of satisfaction to be

had from the consciousness that (for instance) the misericordia Martin offers to the beggar is more than just sympathy. Second, all this is done without trespassing beyond the usual extent to which educated Romans would exhibit Greek influence in their writing. While the specific words used or the senses attached to them may not be classical, the phenomena of lexical and semantic borrowing are wholly classical; this is not especially difficult or obscure Latin. Third, the existence of Greek and Latin terms for some concepts (e.g. episcopus alongside antistes/sacerdos, angelus alongside nuntius) allows Severus to show his grasp of literary variatio, as discussed below.

45

Semi-covert Markers of Christian Identity The thesis that Christians possessed a ‘special language’ (Sondersprache) by which they distinguished themselves from others, classically stated by Schrijnen (1932) and canonized in English by Palmer (1954: 181-205), had by the end of the twentieth century largely fallen into discredit. I have proposed (Burton 2008) a modest rehabilitation of this theory, pointing to various words which, while found across all registers of literary Latin, appear with special frequency in Christian writings, even where they have no obviously ‘Christian’ reference; of the eight words I take as examples, namely commoror, deduco, desiderium, dignor, habitus, infans, intueor, and postulo, each is found in the Vita Martini with a higher frequency than outside Christian use (although statistics have limited value in a relatively small corpus of text). The phenomenon may extend to a predilection for certain derivational affixes. We may point in particular to the -ibilis suffix; thus 21.1, conspicabilis; 9.3, contemptibilis; 9.3, despicabilis; 17.5, horribilis; 25.5, impossibilis; 9.2, incredibilis; 21.5, mirabilis; 22.5, miserabilis; 25.5, possibilis; 22.1, visibilis. Of these, horribilis, incredibilis, mirabilis, and miserabilis are found frequently in earlier, non-Christian texts. Impossibilis and possibilis occur occasionally. Conspicabilis, contemptibilis, and despicabilis are not found before the Christian period. The suffix is clearly productive from an early date; the met­ rical convenience of some of these forms in hexameter verse (notably but not uniquely the mirabile dictu-type construction) then seems to lend a sense that these are poeticisms, which recommends them to later writers seeking to embellish their vocabulary. At the same time, the suffix presumably remains productive in the everyday language; so by around a d 2 0 0 , if we are correct so far, some adjectives of this type will have a strongly‘literary’ feel, whereas others will simply be workaday coinages. The nascent Christian idiom will reflect both trends, with the added twist that the form is also used as a sort of periphrastic passive in biblical Latin, especially where the base verb in question has no perfect passive participle in use (e.g. odibilis ‘hated’; further examples in Rönsch 1875: 109ff). This then further licenses the coinage of new forms among Christian writers.

46

Introduction

Such semi-covert Christianisms may extend to syntax. Thus at 24.4 we find operor construed with the accusative rather than the classical dative, another feature of biblical and wider Christian use; the same is true of benedico at 10.4, 10.7, 18.3. However, the phenomenon is not universal: Severus construes misereor with the classical genitive rather than the Christian dative at 3.1 (Burton 2011:492).

The Style o f the Vita Martini

• .

Poeticisms and Archaisms It is often stated that Latin prose writers from the first century a d onward are increasingly willing to admit to their language words and usages previously associated with poetry. This theory has received some searching examination, notably from Hine (2005, with references), and needs a degree of qualification; even assuming a ‘poetic’ word is brought by this or that writer into a prose genre, we cannot necessarily tell whether and how far the word retains its poetic associations, or whether it is simply absorbed into the wider pool of Latin prose words. Given that Sulpicius Severus is writing at the end of the fourth century, there may be an appreciable gap between his notions of a poeticism and those of a Seneca or a Tacitus. Similar observations may be made about archaisms. This again is a problematic term; a word may be simultaneously archaic, hence associated with higher registers, and current in dialect or other specialized uses, hence non-literary in these contexts. The well-known vogue for archaism in the second century a d , linked with the names of Fronto and Apuleius, may likewise have brought into educated use various words which would previously have been considered obsolete. For these reasons, it is difficult to speak simply o f ‘poeticisms’ or ‘archaisms’ in later Latin. In the case of Christian writers, there is a further complication in that biblical translations often contain words which appear to have been archaisms in later Latin, whether because these translations come from a linguistic milieu in which such words are still current, or (more probably) because they provided more exact renderings of the Latin (Burton 2000: 103-11, Plater and White 1926: 47-8). There can, then, be no definitive list of archaisms in later Latin; alleged examples must be treated individually. Given below are case studies of three words in the Vita Martini which apparently belong to notably archaic or poetic registers, namely devius, sopor, and comperio. For comparison, I have given a selection of data generated by the Perseus word frequency tool. A few observations should be made about this approach: • Maximum frequency data are followed, meaning that in any cases of ambiguity a token is taken to belong with the type in question, rather than any other. In practice it is fairly clear what the type in question

•

•

47

should be, subject to debate on whether the past participle compertus should be taken under comperio (as it is here) or as an adjective in its own right; and whether adverbial comperte should be taken as a separate type (it is not here); It is assumed that the Perseus data are accurate within the limitations of the editions used; The Perseus project occasionally groups texts (e.g. the speeches of Cicero) in a somewhat arbitrary way; clearly other groupings are possible, and would yield different results. It is taken, however, that these groupings are sufficiently robust to allow us to draw at least indicative results; The Perseus data occasionally separate works by the same author. I have occasionally aggregated the data, where there is little significant variation between works. Where the unaggregated data show significant variation (as in the frequency of comperio in Tacitus’various works) I have left it in this form; In each case, a notional threshold has been set over which a word is deemed to appear with particular frequency. While this involves the somewhat arbitrary choice of an integer, it is nonetheless taken that the threshold offers a division which gives some sort of real information about authors and registers in which particular words are found.

With these points noted, we may proceed to consider the examples: Devius, x l, at 5.4, ac prim um inter Alpes devia secutus incidit in latrones·, 1.475 per 10,000 words. According to the Perseus data, m axim um frequencies of 1.00 or over per 10,000 w ords are found as follows: Cicero, De Am icitia P ropertius Ovid, Metamorphoses H orace, Odes Tibullus Seneca, Phaedra Lucan, Civil War Statius Silius Italicus, Punica Apuleius, Florida Ausonius, Epistles Plus portions of the Livian corpus

1.055 2.370 1.024 3.009 1.618 2.775 1.567 1.467 2.478 1.241 1.917

We should perhaps note also Ammianus Marcellinus, at 0.997. This distribution is readily understood as a case where a word is taken up by one or more of the Augustan poets, and by their subsequent imitators; both the form of the word (a privative adjective, like Greek άνοδο?) and the metrical convenience, in hexameter verse, of the dactylic forms devia and devius will have tended to

Introduction

48

The Style of the Vita Martini

reinforce this. The use in Livy is probably best viewed as a poeticism, aided by the authors fondness for battle-scenes in out-of-the-way places; so also in Ammianus. Sulpicius Severus’ use is typical of his virtuosity; he has blended a reference to the traveller in the Parable of the Good Samaritan, who ‘fell among thieves’, with a paradox (how can one ‘follow’ a path that isn’t there?) which appears to echo Lucan, Bellum Civile 6.329-30, terraeque secutus/ devia. It should be noted also that devius is formally and semantically very close to avius, a much more common word, again most frequent in the poets and historians. Sopor. x2, at 3.3, cum se sopori dedisset, and 5.3, admonitus per soporem; 2.911 per 10,000 words. According to the Perseus data, m axim um frequencies ot 2.00 or over per 10,000 words are found as follows: Ovid, Metamorphoses Silius Italicus, Punka Statius Apuleius, Metamorphoses Valerius Flaccus Lucretius Tibullus Seneca, Hercules Oetaeus and Hercules Furens Plautus, Amphitryo and Mostellaria Propertius Horace, Epodes Ausonius, Ephemeris and Cupido cruciatus

2.945 2.869 3.194 3.271 2.569 2.652 2.426 3.688 2.537 2.281 6.653 43.689

The data bear out Fontaine’s observation that this is a distinctly poetic word. Whether the high frequencies of sopor in poetry are due to its metrical convenience, especially at line-endings, or to a sense that it is a somewhat more dignified word than somnus, or some combination of these factors, it appears to be a characteristically poetic word. Note also that admonitus per soporem at 5.3 is Severus’ rewriting of the more prosaic admonitus in somniis at Matthew 2:2. Comperio. x6 in the Vita Martini; 8.71 per 10,000 words. A ccording to the Perseus data, maximum frequencies of 3.00 or over per 10,000 w ords are found as follows: Teren ce, Andria Sallust Columella, books 1-4 Tacitus, Annals Tacitus, Agricola Tacitus, Germania Suetonius, De Vita Caesarum Quintus Curtius

4.418 5.552 4.614 4.049 8.902 5.442 4.834 4.574

Apuleius, M etamorphoses and Apologia Aulus Gellius Historia Augusta A m m ianus M arcellinus Portions of Livy

49

4.688 3.037 4.831 6.847

It appears, then, that while comperio is used in a range of poetic and prose genres, it is most at home in the historical tradition, and specifically in the Sallustian/Tacitean tradition, inherited also by Ammianus. The Tacitean data are left disaggregated so as to call attention to its particular frequency in the Agricola, itself (as Fontaine and others have noted) a recognized prototype of the hagiographical tradition. This list is not, of course, exhaustive; but it should be representative of some of Sulpicius Severus’ lexical preferences outside the domain of Christianity. In so far as these examples are typical of his style, they show a willingness on his part to locate his work within the framework of Latin historical writing, especially the Sallustian/Tacitean monographic tradition, and to some extent also within the traditions of Latin epic writing. While these traditions may overlap, they may also stay clearly differentiated; thus while devius and sopor are characteristically poetic, comperio is characteristically historic. While it is certainly the case that some previously obsolete terms are revived in later Latin and are probably best viewed by the fourth century as markers of literary style rather than archaisms as such, Sulpicius Severus appears very discerning in his choice of words; the Life of Martin is the work of a careful traditionalist rather than a linguistic antiquarian.

Other Lexical Features Compound and Simple Forms One general feature of post-classical Latin is the preference for compound verbs over simple forms; as early as the Republican period there are some verbs (e.g. gradior) which are seldom found outside compounds. Conversely, the use of simple forms for complex may be a form of literary archaism. The Vita Martini contains several examples of this phenomenon: 2.2, divinam potius servitutem sacra illustris pueri spiravit infantia (for aspiravit); 2.5, ut veteranorum filii ad m ilitiam scriberentur (for conscriberentur); 14.2, rapido cursu tectum dom us scandit (though considerable m anuscript evidence for ascen­ dit); 18.1, imperat u t an verus esset hic nuntius fa teretu r (for confiteretur; the same at 18.2); 19.2, perpetuae virginitati dicarit (for dedicarit); 24.1, cum sibi multis signis auctoritatem paravisset (for comparavisset). In these cases, there is a general rise in frequency of the compound relative to the simple over time; thus even in classical Latin scando is archaic and poetical,

50

The Style of the Vita Martini

I n tr o d u c tio n

and even then often reserved for specially solemn contexts (e.g. Virgil, A e n e i d 2.237, s c a n d i t f a t a l i s m a c h i n a m u r o s ) . Löfstedt (1936: 117-27) identifies it as a poeticism or general marker of high style in later Latin. Two of these uses, however, are more specifically Sallustiam S c r i b o for c o n s c r i b o in the sense‘enrol in the army’ occurs at C a t i l i n e 32.1 and J u g u r t h a 27.5: d e i n d e e x e r c i t u s , q u i in A f r i c a m p o r t a r e t u r , s c r i b i t u r , similar uses at J u g u r t h a 39.2,43.2,84.4,86.2. P a r o ‘to acquire, gef occurs at C a t i l i n e 5.6,6.5,24.2,52.29. Nominal Style It is sometimes noted that later Latin texts have a preference for expressions using nouns over verbs, and often abstract nouns over more concrete ones. Again, there may be various reasons underlying these choices. ‘A bstract’ (i.e. nouns featuring a derivational affix, typically though not always suggesting an abstract quality) forms have been identified as a feature of biblical Latin (Plater and White 1926: 44-6, Burton 2000: 95-102), of various technical registers (Langslow 2000, p a s s i m ) , or simply of later Latin generally (Löfstedt 1911: 11 Iff, 1959: 145ff). While the V i t a M a r t i n i does not belong w ithin a technical genre as the term would traditionally be understood, it is none the less likely that all the other factors listed above are relevant. Examples of the phenomenon include: 2.2, s a c r a i l l u s t r i s p u e r i s p i r a v i t i n f a n t i a ; 7.2, m a e r e n t i u m . . . f r a t r u m . . . f r e q u e n t a b a t u r o f f ic io ; 10.6, a r s i b i, e x c e p t i s s c r ip to r ib u s , n u lla

h a b e b a tu r ,

m a io r e s o r a tio n i v a c a b a n t;

16.2, u

cui

ta m e n

10.7, r a r u s

o p eri

m in o r

a e ta s

d e p u ta b a tu r ;

c u iq u a m e x tr a c e llu la m s u a m e g re ssu s;

t . . . n u l lo a d h u m a n o s u s u s c o r p o r i s o f f i c i o f u n g e r e t u r ;

20.1,

c u m ... se

. . . d é g é n é r é i n c o n s t a n t i a r e g i a e c l i e n t e l a e s a c e r d o t a l i s d i g n i t a s s u b d i d i s s e t , in s o lo M a r t i n o a p o s t o l i c a a u c t o r i t a s p e r m a n e b a t ;

23.6, t u m

v e ro g r a n d is o m n iu m

a d h a n c p r o fe s s io n e m e x s p e c ta tio .

It is possible to overstate the level of this phenomenon; it is not as if classical Latin never used abstract nouns, and in isolation any of these examples might pass with little comment in a classical text. However, there is a tendency, stopping well short of being a rule, for abstract nouns to be used where a concrete might be felt more natural; thus for instance at 20.1 it would have been entirely open for Severus to have written c u m . . . s a c e r d o t e s , d e g e n e r t u r b a , i ta s e i n d i g n o s i n c o n s t a n t e s q u e p r a e b u i s s e n t , u t i a m p a e n e c l i e n t e s r e g i s e s s e n t .

Likewise at 10.6, a r s is clearly equivalent to a r t i f e x or similar, and m i n o r a e t a s to m in o r e s a e ta t e . Notable also is what we might call the adjectival style; the tendency to use adjectives plus nouns where classical Latin might have used a noun plus noun in the dependent genitive (thus d i g n i t a s s a c e r d o t u m for s a c e r d o t a l i s d i g n i t a s ) or just a simple noun (s a c e r d o t e s ). Other examples include 5.6, e v a n g e l i c a m d i s p u t a t i o n e m , 9.4, l e c t io n e p r o p h e t i c a . Again, this may be paralleled in technical and in Christian registers (Mohrmann 1961: 169ff notes such locutions as d o m i n i c a p a s s i o , e v a n g e l i c a p a r a b o l a ; the high mediaeval phrase

51

inquisitor haereticae pravitatis nicely exemplifies both the ‘nominal’ and ‘adjectival’ styles). The positioning of the adjectives is also notable. In classical Latin prose, adjectives tend to follow their nouns. In poetry, they tend to precede (as in e.g. Catullus 64.1, Peliaco quondam prognatae vertice pinus; Ovid, Amores 1.1.1-2, arma gravi numero violentaque bella parabam/ edere). As the examples above show, there is a tendency in the Vita to the order adjective-noun rather than noun-adjective, which may probably be seen as an example of what was originally a poeticism which has by now become native to high-register prose. On the much rarer practice in the Vita of placing two or more adjec­ tives and their nouns before the nouns they qualify, see Discontinuous Syntax, below. Variation The theme of variatio sermonis in Severus’ Dialogues has been extensively documented by Hyltén (1940 passim, especially 58ff).47 The list of examples below is not intended to be exhaustive, and even within it there are a number of examples where the change of word or construction within a passage may be seen as more than free variation between two or more alternatives. For examples of similar ideas recast in different words in the Vita Martini, we may note the following: 6.4, turbatam ... exturbavit; 6.4, discessu ... exilium; 6.5, herbarum ... gramen; 6.6, vicina iam morte ... imminens periculum; 10.3, sacerdote ... episcopis ...antistitem; 11.1-4, consepultis ...sepultus; 13.1, templum ...fano ... templum; perhaps 13.4-5, gentilium ... rusticorum (taking both words to m ean‘pagan’); 13.7-8, exspectantes ... opperiens; 14.3-6, multitudo gentilium ... rusticam multitudinem ...gentilium turbis; 15.3,cultro ...ferrum; 15A,fana ... templa; 16.1-2, aegrotus ... aegritudine tenebatur; 17.1-5, advenientes ... obvios; 17.6-7, os ...faucibus ... os; 18.1-2,fateretur, confessus est ...; 18.1-2,fama ... nuntius... rumorem; 18.1 - 2 ,civitatem ... oppido ... civitas; 18.4-5: infirmantibus ... aegrotantibus; 23.2-6, iuvenis ... adolescens; 23.3, angelos ... nuntios; 24.4, circumiectus ... indutus Severus professes in the Dialogues (3.5.6) to have chosen his literary form to avoid boring his readers. This is in line with statements in classical authors; Cicero, De Oratore 2.41.177 states that the orator’s treatment of a subject should be varied (varia), lest the hearer should grow weary of a surfeit of similar material (similitudinis satietate). However, this is not the whole story. According to Quintilian, Institutio 8.6.19, variation of language (by which he means primarily metonymy and metaphor) may produce greater vividness and greater emotional impact; it is more open to poets than to orators. To some extent also variatio

47On varietas in later Latin poetry, see Roberts (1989:46ft'); of course many of his observations are equally applicable to prose.

T h e S t y l e o f th e

I n tr o d u c tio n

Vita Martini

53

biblical Latin may have played a part in canonizing v a r i a t i o , since while biblical translators appear to aim for the most part at a one-to-one correspondence between source and target language, they are none the less often inconsistent hi their rendering of Greek terms (thus we find p l e b s alongside p o p u l u s , lu m e n alongside lu x , and so forth). It is hard, however, to avoid the impression that Severus’ v a r i a ti o is largely a display of literary virtuosity.

word by what appears to be a close synonym in the genitive case. For examples, see Sittl (1882: 93). While it is questionable whether this was ever really an African’ phenomenon, as the older terminology suggests, it does appear to be a distinctive feature of Christian writings. From the V i ta M a r t i n i we note: 10.4, e r e m i s o l i t u d i n e m ; 15.3, s u p e r s t i t i o r e lig io n is ; 24.4 c l a r i t a t e . . . f u l g o r i s .

Sometimes this v a r i a t i o takes the form of the rewriting of a stock phrase. Thus we may note: E p i s t u l a a d D e s i d e r i u m 6, q u o d u t f i e r i v a l e a t (for the usual f i e r i p o s s i t ) ; 3.1, v i s a lg o r is (for the usual v i s f r i g o r i s ) ; 3.8, c o t t i d i a n u m v i c t u m (for p a n i s c o t t i d i a n u s ) ; 4.1, u t c o n s u e t u d i n is e s t, for u t m o r i s e st; 14.5, p r a e s i d i u m . . . f e r r e n t , for the more usual o p e m f e r r e or p r a e s i d i o e sse ; 18.2, m e t u e t t u r b a t i o n e p r a e s e n t i c iv i ta s lib e r a t a e s t (for p r a e s e n s m e t u s , apparently a stock phrase—once each in Cicero, Livy, Younger Seneca, Valerius iVlaximus, Celsus, Latin Clement, Florus, Ammianus Marcellinus, Augustine, Sulpicius Severus, Sedulius Presbyter— here broken up). The rewriting of stock phrases heightens the readers interest by raising expectations which are then not fulfilled. Something similar may be said of some of Severus’ treatments of biblical allusions. Thus 2Timothy 2:4, n e m o m il i ta n s d e o i m p l i c a t s e n e g o t i i s s a e c u l a r i b u s , occurs split between V i t a M a r t i n i 2.6, h is v i t i i s q u i b u s i l l u d h o m i n u m g e n u s i m p l i c a r i s o l e t and 3.3 p a t e r e u t n u n c

The converse of Severus’ typical v a r i a t i o is his tendency to repeat a handful of words, which we may label i n o p i a v e r b o r u m . Thus we may note: 6.4-6, h a e r e t i c o r u m v i s . . . v i m v e n e n i (note the chiastic sequence); 6.4-7, t u r b a t a m

variatio through

substitution

m ilite m d e o .

Also related to this is Severus’ practice of rewriting allusions by replacing the familiar term with an unfamiliar one. Thus we may consider 1.5, n o n c lip e o p r o t e c t u s a u t g a l e a . Fontaine a d lo c . rightly compares David’s rejection of Sauls helmet and breastplate when taking on Goliath (IRegnorum 17:38ff), with the difference that Martin is spurning a shield and helmet. Under this heading I group cases where the same idea appears to be expressed twice in different words, where once would do. These cases might be labelled hendiadys, the expression of one idea through two words. In either case there is an element of subjectivity, since what appears to us a single concept might to a Latin speaker have appeared otherwise; but the following cases seem fairly clear cut: 13.6 , g a u d i o l a e t i t i a q u e ; 17.2, p r o f a n i e t g e n t il i s ; 1 7 .7 , p o e n i s e t c r u c i a t i b u s ; 18.1 , d e m o t u a t q u e i m p e t u b a r b a r o r u m ; 21.1, c o n s p i c a b il i s e t s u b i e c t u m o c u lis ; 25.6, v e r b i s e t c o n f a b u l a t i o n e e iu s . redundant synonymy

In this connexion we may perhaps note also 1.1, s t u d i o e t g l o r i a e . . . d e d i t i ; and 23.8, c u i u s e s s e t g e n e r i s a u t v e lle r is ; presumably homoioteleuton is a factor here. Not a hendiadys, but still showing redundancy, is 23.1,f e l i c i b e a t u s e x c e s s u . TUMOR A specialized form of redundant synonymy occurs in what is often called the t u m o r , or t u m o r A f r i c a n u s ; in other words, the modification of one

Inopia verborum

e c c le s ia m

c o m p e r is s e t

...

H ila r io

c o m p e r is s e t

r e g is p a e n i t e n t i a

p o te s ta te m

Sometimes the same word is used in different senses; thus 7.4-8.2, c e l l u l a = ‘monk’s cell’, then ‘slave’s sleeping-quarters’; 16.3-16.5, e x a n i m i s = ‘out of breath’, then ‘lifeless’; 23.2, o r a t i o . . . o r a t i o n i b u s = ‘language’, th en ‘prayer’; perhaps also 1.1-4, m e m o r i a m (memory, the objective condition of being remembered) ... m e m o r i a m (memory, the subjective condition of remembering) ... m e m o r i a m (the objective condition, but this time with the accessive sense o f‘grave’, found in Christian writers). These phenomena are not mutually exclusive and at times Severus combines v a r i a t i o with i n o p i a v e r b o r u m . Thus we find at 6.4, m u l t i s q u e s u p p l i c i i s e s s e t a f f e c t u s . . . m u l t i s q u e a f f e c t u m i n i u r i i s , where we note the variation of word order, with agreeing adjective and noun next to each other in m u l t i s q u e s u p ­ p l i c i i s and sandwiching verb in m u l t i s q u e a f f e c t u m i n i u r ii s . Likewise also at 17.1-5, r a b i d i s d e n t i b u s s a e v i e b a t . . . s a e v i r e d e n t i b u s m i s e r c o e p i t . in d u lta m f u is s e re d e u n d i.

M orphology and syntax Pronominal system It is well known that the pronominal system of classical Latin is heavily remodelled in later and subliterary use, and in particular that the inherited anaphoric pronoun is e a i d disappears in Romance, that the deictic h ic h a e c h o c becomes restricted to a handful of fossilized contexts (e.g. Spanish a h o r a < h a c h o r a ) , and that ille , i s t e , and i p s e become increasingly prominent in later Latin (see e.g. discussion in Väänänen 1987: 47). The raw data of distribution for these forms for the V i t a M a r t i n i are as shown in Table 2. The single most notable feature of this list is the sheer preponderance of forms of is e a i d . This is not, in itself, entirely surprising; Adams (1977: 44) notes that while ‘in popular speech ... is had largely been replaced by ille in all forms by the end of the first century [ad ]’, nonetheless ‘in most ... texts traditionally described as vulgar ... is continues to be preferred [to i l l e ] ’. However, the extent of this preference in the V i ta may still call for comment. The gross ratios of is: i ll e : h ie : is te : i p s e are 115: 63: 38: 8: 32; for comparison,

7he Style of the Vita Martini Table 2 Pronouns in the

is

ille

hie

iste

ipse

ei

illi

hi

isti

ipsi

4 33

15 15

10

1 1

15

0 6

0 1 1 0 2

2

0 0 1 0 1

4

20 21 22*

16

0 1

21 2 6

4t

0 0

4

2 1 0 8

4 4

1

5

0 0 0

1 0 1 0

‘excepting adverbial eo t all in the phrase istius modi

E p istu la a d D e s id e r iu m

6, q u o d

f r u c tu m a ffereb a t ;

q u i q u id e m e rro r ,

1.2, q u a e res 1.6, q u o u tiq u e

u t f i e r i v a le a t:

3.5,

5.3,

q u o d p o s te a p r o b a v i t e ve n tu s:

q u o a u d ito :

8.2,

5.4, q u i

cum eum

a d q u a m c u m so llic itu s a d stitiss e t:

8.2, q u o co g n ito : 9.6, q u o co g n ito : 10.4, q u i lo cu s ta m se c retu s e t r e m o tu s erat: 10.8, q u o d eo m a g is s i t m ir u m n e cesse est: 14.2, q u o d u b i M a r tin a s a d v e r tit: 14.7, q u o viso : 16.1, q u o d v e l e x c o n s e q u e n ti liq u e b it e x em p lo : 16,5, q u a ille vo ce c o n fu su s: 16.7, q u o d c u m b e n e d ix iss e t: 17.4, q u o viso : 20.7, q u o d f a c tu m im p e r a to r o m n e s q u e q u i tu n c a d e r a n t ita a d m ir a ti su n t: 19.2, q u a e res a p u d A r b o r iu m in ta n tu m v a lu it: 2 0 .9 , q u o d q u id e m ita v id im u s : 21.2, q u o d c u m d ia b o lu s sc ire t se effu g ere n o n p o sse: 2 4 .2 , in q u o e tia m a d e o illu sit: 24.2, q u o d c u m p le r iq u e te m e re c r e d i d i s s e n t ... p r o p t e r q u o d e u m p o s te a a b e p is c o p a tu d e ie c tu m v id im u s: 24.3, ex

q u o viso:

3.5,

... 1.6, in reb u s: 3.1,

A useful typology of connecting relatives, albeit in the context of pre-classical Latin, is given by Rosén (1999:165-73). Rosén concludes that the vast majority of connecting relatives in early Latin are those ‘whose relatum is the message of the preceding sentence, sometimes that of an entire passage, sometimes that of an essential part of that sentence’; in other words, they tend not to have a single specific antecedent in the previous sentence. Syntactically, she notes, the largest group are those with neuter pronouns (quod, quae, quo), or with semantically empty res. Absent from her corpus are examples o f ‘the qupronoun as a constituent of ablative absolutes’. In contrast, classical Latin shows the development of the ablative absolute, the use of the connecting relative to refer to one specific element in the preceding sentence, and of interlacing conjunctional clauses of the qu- cum type.48 The distribution in the Vita Martini is, on this analysis, partly classical; most notably in the use of the relative pronoun in ablative absolutes of a restricted class (quo viso/cognito/accepto). In two ways, however, they are, on Rosén’s analysis, notably ante-classical. First, there is the very widespread use of quclauses to refer to the ‘message of the preceding sentence’, and the relatively few times they refer to specific individuals or elements within it; of the thirty-one examples above, only two cannot be accounted for in this way: 3.1, qui [sc. pauper} cum oraret, 8.2, ad quam [sc. turbam]. Second, there is the notably high level of adjectival qu- pronouns, either with semantically empty res or similar or some other noun that sums up what proceeds (e.g. error, expectatio, locus). Again, the ‘resumptive nominalization (as Rosén terms it) is a notable feature of early Latin use. Severus’ style is, then, in this respect, towards the archaizing end of the classical spectrum. More specifically, it echoes the archaizing style of Sallust. Rosén’s data come exclusively from early Latin, and exclude the first-century historian, but similar constructions are frequent in his work also; e.g. Catiline

u tiq u e n o n p e r e n n e m ... in c ita b u n tu r ;

q u o ita n o s tr i q u o q u e r a tio n e m c o m m o d i d u c im u s : 2 .7 , p r o q u ib u s q u i c u m ... ora ret:

7.4,

q u o c o n ice re p o s s u m u s .

Väänänen (1987: 48-9) gives the corresponding figures for the Peregrinatio Egeriae as 178 (excluding id est): 162: 127: 18: 241. Moreover, Väänänen suggests that around seventy of Egeria’s uses of is occur in such stereotypical syntagms’ as in/de eo loco, (in) ea die, (in) ea hora, whereas the Vita Martini has only three such cases; it is thus used proportionately more freely and productively. Or, to take a different comparand, Callebat (1968: 265) observes that in Apuleius’Metamorphoses the genitive plurals eorum/earum outnumber the corresponding forms of hic, ille, and iste by 19 to 8 (in the Vita Martini by 4 to 0); that the corresponding figures for the ablative singular are 32 to 109 (in the Vita Martini 22 to 10); for the accusative plural, 21 to 52 (in the Vita Martini 6 to 6). Granted that Apuleius cannot be taken as a typical represent­ ative of any Latinity but his own, we may still note that the distribution of forms in Severus suggests an unusually determined attempt to retain the classical patterns. Particularly striking is the adjectival use of is at Epistula ad Desiderium 1, ea tibi fiducia libellum edidi, qua nulli a te prodendum reor. The pattern found here is that characterized by Rosén (1999:150-3) as th e ‘explicational’word order, in which‘the semantically specifying elements are found to follow, not by necessity immediately, upon grammatically specifying elements ... (pronominals)’. This pattern, Rosén observes, is easily identifiable in Early Latin’, but reserved in classical Latin for contexts where it ‘render [ed] a complex sentence structure more transparent’, or excluded] excessively heavy, multipartite sentence constituents from the preverbal position’. Thus the syntax, and not only the choice of pronoun, recalls that of pre-Ciceronian Latin. A noteworthy feature of the Vita Martini is its heavy use of the connecting relative clause. This is found in the following instances: 1.5,

q u a m ille o r d in a tio n e m ·,

a d r e m o tio r a d u x iss e t:

Plural

Singular

Nom Acc Gen Dat Abl

5.2,

V ita M a r ti n i

55

q u a M a r ti n a s e x s p e c ta tio n e su sp e n s u s:

18Rosén’s data are, however, somewhat ambiguous on this last point, as she has already identified a substantial number of‘interlaced’qu- clauses, and it is not clear whether there is really a 'definite increase’ in constructions of this type in classical Latin.

The Style o f the Vita Martini

Introduction 24.1, quod factum primo popularis coniurationis concusserat (cf Vita Martini 20.7), Jugurtha 11, quod verbum in pectus Iugurthae altius, quam quisquam ratus erat, descendit; 25, quod ubi secus procedit; 27, quod postquam Romae cognitum est; 60, quod ubi Mario cognitum est; 85, quod contra est; 94, quod ubi accidit. As in the Vita Martini, there is the characteristic use of the connecting relative to sum up the whole content of the preceding sentence, sometimes also with the adjectival use with a noun (the ‘resumptive nominalization ) such as factum or verbum (compare Severus’ use of vox). Lastly we should note here the two instances of the explicatory quippe qui relative construction: 1.3, quippe q u i... animas sepulcris dederint; 25.7, quippe quos viderim ... non credere. This is another linguistic feature associated with Latin historical writing, notably that of Sallust; in the later Empire it should be seen as a mark of educated style. Synthetic Passives and Deponents It is well known that in later Latin many synthetic passive and deponent verbs are construed with the auxiliary verbs from the fu - stem, rather than the re­ forms found in classical Latin (discussion in Burton forthcoming, with references). The figures for the Vita Martini may be summarized as shown in Table 3. In contrast to other grammatical features of the Vita, which are character­ istically archaizing or at least conservative, the distribution of passive/ deponent auxiliaries is close to what we may regard as a post-classical standard. Characteristic of this is the regular preservation of amatus sumtype perfect/preterite forms (rather than amatus fui), alongside the wide­ spread use offueram and fuissem as pluperfect auxiliaries and of fuero and fuerim for future perfect indicative and perfect subjunctive, and of fuisse for the perfect infinitive. Granted the relatively low num bers of many of these forms, the Vita Martini generally follows this post-classical standard, and indeed it is a measure of how established this standard is that such a con­ servative text should do so. The one notable feature is the prevalence of essem rather than fuissem as pluperfect auxiliary; both forms seem available under the ‘new standard’.

Table 3 Passives and deponents in the Vita Martini amatus eram

amatus essem 9

amatus sit

amatus esse

0

1

1

amatus fui

amatus fueram 4

amatus fuissem 3

amatus fuerit

amatus fuisse 4

1

Partitive Genitive The Vita Martini contains the following partitive genitives: 1.3, quid ... emolumenti; 4.2, id ... officii; 6.1, id ... responsi; 11.2, nihil certi; 13.2, nihil religionis; 13.5, eo loci; 19.4, n ihil... incommodi; 23.1, perhaps summum fidei virtutumque omnium culmen; 23.9, reliquum noctis; 24.6, quicquam responsi. The somewhat unusual case here is 23.1, partly because of the chiastic word order and partly because of the somewhat imbalanced construction: two imbalanced genitives (a singular fidei and a plural noun+adjective pair virtutum (...) omnium) modifying two imbalanced headwords (adjective summum and noun culmen, which none the less balance each other seman­ tically). Reliquum noctis maybe paralleled in Livy and Tacitus. Nihil incommodi is entirely classical (and may be paralleled in Romance: rien de mal, niente di serio, etc.). The two pronominal constructions, at 6.1 and 13.5, are somewhat archaic; either hoc responsum or ibi might be expected. Overall, then, there seems to be a mild preference for this construction in contexts where it was not strictly required. Again, this is a construction especially common in Sallust, though not unique to him; compare Catiline 5.1, satis eloquentiae, sapientiae parum; 11.7, 28.4, nihil reliqui; 17.2, plurumum audaciae; 20.13, quid reliqui; 21.1, quid opis aut spei; 45.3, ad id loci; 72.2, post id locorum. Indirect Speech and Statements In classical Latin, indirect statements are usually construed with the accusative and infinitive construction, and occasionally with quod plus either indicative or subjunctive. Adams (2011:280-1, with references) notes that quod construc­ tions in the classical language are absent from non-literary varieties and that it seems to have been a literary usage (see also Coleman 1975: 119-22). In the Vita Martini we find frequent examples of accusative and infinitives, but no other clear examples of other constructions, with the exception of 6.5, confido enim quod per te reddenda sit sanitati (usually construed with accusative and infinitive in classical Latin; Thesaurus Linguae Latinae 4.209.66ff lists construction with quod as first attested in Ammianus). The pattern of use is thus essentially that of classical Latin literary prose. In contrast, constructions with quia and quoniam, which are frequent in later and Christian texts, are completely absent from the Vita Martini. Supine

amatus sum 47

0

57

There is one example of the supine construction in the Vita Martini: 25.5, quod erat factu impossibile. This so-called second supine is not a common construction in classical Latin, and is generally seen as obsolescent even then. It is particularly associated with the Sallustian tradition. Here it is notable for

Introduction

The Style of the Vita Martini

two reasons. First, it is strictly superfluous here; the meaning could equally well be expressed just by impossibile (or more classically as fieri non poterat). This superfluity marks it out as a stylistic mannerism. Second, Severus avoids mere Sallustian pastiche by using it with an adjective not found in classical Latin at all before Quintilian.

1.6, unde facturus mihi operae pretium videor, si vitam sanctissimi viri, exemplo aliis mox futuram, perscripsero; 1.9, eos qui lecturi sunt; 3.5, renuntiaturum se saeculo pollicebatur; 4.2, si donativum non militaturus acciperet; 4.3, donativum tuum pugnaturus accipiat; 4.4, quae... erat futura; 4.6,facturus fidem dictis; 5.3, contestatus ... se adversa passurum; 5.5, sciret misericordiam Domini ... adjuturam; 13.4, facturum se pollicetur; 13.5, quo arborem esse casuram nemo dubitabat; 13.6, ruinam suam casura imitari; 15.1, nudam cervicem percussuro praebuit; 16.3, cucurrit exanimis pro filia rogaturus; 16.6, quidnam dei servus esset facturus; 19.3, magni vir postmodum futurus exempli; 20.8, eidemque Maximo longe ante praedixit futurum ut, si ad Italiam pergeret... sciret se primo quidem impetu futurum esse victorem, sed parvo post tempore esse periturum; 24.5, descensurus ad terram; 24.7, non se ... Iesus ... diademate renidentem venturum esse praedixit. Although the future participle is not a productive formation in Romance, Adams (1977: 49) notes its continued use, even in non-literary documents, until ‘very late’; Burton (2000: 184-5) notes its use in biblical translation, even where it is not translating a Greek future participle. The presence of future participles is not, then, in itself a mark of literary pretension in a work of this date. Flowever, its frequency may be. We have in the Vita Martini a total of twenty-two future participial forms, giving an average of one form for every 303 words of text. For comparison with other more or less contemporary works of narrative prose, Lactantius, De Mortibus Persecutorum has a frequency of 1:351, Ammianus Marcellinus, Book 14 has 1:256, Jeromes Vita Pauli has 1:398, his Vita Malchi has 1:340; by contrast, the Vulgate of Matthew has 1:953, that of IRegnorum has 1:1850, and the Peregrinatio Egeriae has 1:2219. This suggests that above a certain point future participles are likely to become noticeable as markers of literary style, particularly so when the form is used attributively and when the verb involved is not one of a small set of very common ones (futurus, venturus, dicturus, facturus). Forms are also more likely to be salient when they occur in sentence-final position, as at 16.3, or (especially) in sentence-initial position, as at 24.7. If this analysis is correct, then Severus’ use of future participles appears in line with other narrative literary Latin texts of the time, if at the high end of the range.

Historic Infinitive Latin historical (and epic) writing occasionally uses the present infinitive instead of a finite form (i.e. a form with personal endings). This is typically seen as a more vivid form of representation. It is also probably the remnant of a construction no longer current in the spoken language, being in classical Latin largely avoided in texts with a strong rhetoric of oral performance, such as speeches, dialogues, letters, drama. From the Vita Martini we note: 2.8, assistere scilicet laborantibus, opem ferre miseris, alere egentes, vestire nudos, nihil sibi ex militiae stipendiis praeter cotidianum victum reservare; 3.2, ridere nonnulli... m ulti... altius gemere; 16.4, perstare ... orare. While this construction is a generic feature of Latin historical writing as a whole, it is particularly associated with the Sallustian style; cf e.g. Jugurtha 57, Romani, pro ingenio quisque, pars eminus glande aut lapidibus pugnare, alii succedere ac murum modo subfodere modo scalis aggredi, cupere proelium in manibus facere. Contra ea oppidani in proximos saxa volvere, sudis, pila, praeterea picem sulphure et taeda mixtam ardentia mittere. Retained Accusative At 19.3 we find cum oculum graviter dolere coepisset. Such Greek-style retained accusatives are not common in classical Latin literary prose, and usually best seen as a poeticism (Coleman 1975: 123-5). Even in poetry they are more common with participles than with finite verbs (as in e.g. clausus pedes, Tame). Predicative Dative At 1.6 we find exemplo aliis mox futuram .. . u t exemplo aliis esse possimus; compare 2.4, si aetatis infirmitas non fuisset impedimento. This construction is relatively unusual in post-classical Latin; in classical Latin, it may be seen as another mild Sallustianism; from the Catiline, compare 21.4, quibus ea praedae fuerat; 36.3, Cicero urbi praesidio sit; 39.6, quod mox bello usui sit. Future Participle The future participle is a common construction in the Vita Martini. Thus we find: Epistula ad Desiderium 3, ne tu ei ianua sis futurus; 1.3, occasura ...gloria;

59

‘Pre-classicaÎ Features On two occasions Severus apparently allows himself the device of using variant versions of the same word in close succession. In the Epistula ad Desiderium 1, 6, we find materiem ... materiam, each a recognized doublet of the other. Similarly, at 4.4-5, we find postero die ... crastina die. The variation in gender is well attested, and it sometimes suggested that in classical Latin the feminine form refers to a special, fated day. (The evidence of Romance suggests that both genders remained current in the spoken language.) In either case we are relying

Ehe Style of the Vita Martini here on the transmitted readings of the manuscripts, which may not reflect Severus’ own orthography. Nonetheless, it is notable that the other classical author with whom one most associates this sort of variation is Sallust, who uses similar doublets (e.g. inermis/inermus) to link his writings to older traditions of historical writing, before the widespread standardization of Latin in the first century a d .4‘j

Sentence Structure Periodic Style The ‘periodic’ sentence is variously defined by ancient rhetorical theorists. Aristotle at Rhetoric 3.9 emphasizes in particular the following: the length of the sentence (it should be short enough to be enunciated in a single breath, but not too short); it should have a recognizable end, and not consist of a mere string of items; it should have rhythm, to make it memorable. It is often characterized also by the use of antithesis, by clauses of balanced length, and by some form of rhyme between its clauses. The Hellenistic theorist Demetrius, in his On Style 1.1 Off, emphasizes the interconnectedness of the clauses of the period; he also notes that a period should have a certain length (no more than four cola), and that the last should be the longest and should somehow embrace all the others, and stresses the need also for variation in style. The first-century Be Latin Auctor ad Herennium (4.27) states simply that it should be the closepacked and self-contained expression of a complete unit of thought (sententia). Many of the sentences in the Vita Martini conform to these general principles. We may take, as a simple example, Epistula ad Desiderium 5, ego enim, cum primum animum ad scribendum appuli, quia nefas putarem tanti viri latere virtutes, apud me ipse decidi ut soloecismis non erubescerem; or, as a more complex case, 26.2-3, illam scilicet perseverantiam et temperamentum in abstinentia et in ieiuniis, potentiam in vigiliis et orationibus, noctesque ab eo perinde ac dies actas nullumque vacuum ab opere dei tempus, quo vel otio induisent vel negotio, sed ne cibo quidem aut somno, nisi quantum naturae necessitas coegit, verefatebor, non si ipse, ut aiunt, ab inferis Homerus emergeret, posset exponere. Sometimes, however, we find the principle of the long final clause disregarded in what is otherwise a typical periodic sentence. Thus at 6.4 we find dehinc cum haeresis Ariana per totum orbem et maxime intra Illyricum pullulasset, cum adversus perfidiam sacerdotum solus paene acerrime repugnaret multisque suppliciis esset affectus—nam et publice virgis caesus est et ad extremum de civitate exire compulsus—Italiam repetens, cum intra Gallias49 49 This is subject to the general caveat that manuscript readings on such matters are notoriously hard to evaluate; other things being equal, it is virtually impossible on internal grounds to choose between two manuscripts reading inermus and inermis at any given point.

61

quoque discessu sancti Hilari, quem ad exilium haereticorum vis coegerat, turbatam ecclesiam comperisset, Mediolani sibi monasterium s t a t u i t. . Likewise at 24.4, quodam enim die praemissa prae se et circumiectus ipse luce purpurea, quo facilius claritate assumpti fulgoris illuderet, veste etiam regia indutus, diademate ex gemmis auroque redimitus, calceis auro illitis, sereno ore, laeta facie, ut nihil minus quam diabolus putaretur, oranti in cellula adstitit. While we cannot explain Severus’ choice in such cases, it is plausible that the short final clauses themselves have a certain rhetorical effectiveness, in setting up a contrast between the complex set of circumstances underlying or accompanying the main action, and the action itself. Not all Latin literary prose, however, uses the rhetorical period. In historical writing, we often find the non-periodic device of appending extra information after the completion of the main clause of the sentence, often through participial clauses. Examples of this in the Vita Martini are numerous; for example, 2.5, uno tantum servo comite contentus ...; 2.6, integer tamen ab iis vitiis; 3.5, tribuni sui precibus evictus, cui contubernium familiare praestabat; 4.4, dicens eum metu pugnae, quae postero die erat futura, non religionis gratia detractare militiam; 7.1, cupiens sanctissimi viri institui disciplinis. Severus also makes occasional use in the Vita Martini of another non­ periodic device, that of ending a sentence with an ablative absolute construc­ tion. Thus at 2.1 we find parentibus secundum saeculi dignitatem non infimis, gentilibus tamen; at 63, patre in malis perseverante. This device,‘in which the main syntactical statement stands at or near the beginning, and then has appended to i t ... comments that suggest motives or record men’s reactions’, is noted by M artin and Woodman (2012) as distinctively Tacitean: ‘This type of sentence allows Tacitus to concentrate, often with sardonic comment, on the underlying psychology of men’s actions’. Similar perhaps is the use of the pro­ dente patre at 2.5, though that is not sentence-final. Not all sentence-final abla­ tive absolutes are sardonic, however; compare 6.5, comite quodam presbytero, magnarum virtutum viro (notably non-periodic in that the ablative absolute has a further nominal phrase in apposition). Inconcinnitas Alongside the balanced periodic sentence we sometimes find sentences or clauses left imbalanced. Examples of this are not frequent in the Vita, but we note 20.1, ferocis ingenii virum et bellorum civilium victoria elatum, where a genitive of quality is followed by a past participle; perhaps also 24.4, quodam enim die praemissa prae se et circumiectus ipse luce purpurea ..., where luce functions in the first clause as part of an ablative absolute and in the second as part of an instrum ental ablative, thus creating a formal imbalance. Such imbalances are typical of archaic and archaizing Latin. Thus in Cato, fragment 83, eumque inter mortuos, defetigatum volneribus atque quod sanguen

Introduction p a u s defluxerat, cognovere; Sallust, Catiline 25.2, haec mulier ... litteris Graecis Latinis docta, psallere saltare elegantius quam necesse est probae, multa alia, quae instrumenta luxuriae sunt; Livy 1.1, ... constat ... duobus, Aeneae Antenorique, et veteris iure hospitii et quia pacis reddendaeque Helenae semper auctores fuerant, omne ius belli Achivos abstinuisse.

N om inativus pendens The so-called nominativus pendens (‘dangling nominative) occurs where the logical topic of the sentence (often a person, and often named) is introduced at the beginning of a sentence, in the nominative case and in an incomplete clause, only for the syntax of the sentence to change course, so that this topic appears in a subsequent clause in a different case. Examples can be found from early Latin literature; e.g. Cato, Origines fragment 83, quoted by Aulus Gellius, Attic Nights 3.17.1: Leonides Laco. qui simile apud Thermopylas fecit, propter eius virtutes omnis Graecia gloriam atque gratiam praecipuam claritudinis inclitissimae decoravere monumentis, ‘Leonidas the Spartan, who did likewise at Thermopylae, on account of his brave deeds all Greece honoured his glory and outstanding popularity with memorials of the most renowned distinction.’ With this compare Vita Martini 19.3: Paulinus, magni vir postmodum futurus exempli, cum oculum graviter dolere coepisset et iam pupillam eius crassior nubes superducta texisset, oculum ei Martinus penicillo contigit pristinamque ei sanitatem sublato omni dolore restituit. Note that while this construction is strictly ungrammatical, it nonetheless seems to enjoy a certain licence, and occurs from time to time in other‘literary Latin writers; compare Jerome, Vita Hilarionis 26.1 : scutarius quidam, cum in basilica beati Petri Romae torquerentur, clamavit in eo spiritus immundus ...,‘A guardsman, when he was tormented in St Peter’s basilica at Rome, the unclean spirit in him cried out ...’. On this construction, including possible Semitic models, see Rubio (2009:205-6); non vidi Giannecchini (1995-6) on its use in Christian authors. Similar is the anacolouthon of 20.1, cum ad imperatorem Maximum, ferocis ingenii virum et bellorum civilium victoria elatum, plures ei diversis orbis partibus episcopi convenissent ... Here we note the change of construction from the accusative to the dative. We may here conveniently note also the mixed construction of quod cum diabolus sciret se effugere non posse (21.1), combining a phrase such as diabolus effugere non poterat; quod cum sciret with cum autem diabolus sciret se effugere non posse. It is tempting to view cases of this kind as examples of the phenomenon pointed out by Mayer (2005: 196), of the educated writer who nonetheless lacks the skill to control a complex periodic sentence. While this is possible, we would suggest rather that Severus is demonstrating the opposite: his ability to judge just how much latitude the writer of literary Latin prose was allowed,

The Style of the Vita Martini

63

and not to exceed it. On this interpretation, it is the infrequency of such‘lapses’ from the marmoreal ideals of Ciceronian Latin which matters, rather than their mere presence; paradoxically, Severus’ occasional ‘lapses’ of style serve to remind his reader of his overall virtuosity.

Sound Effects Prose R hythm s

Outline: Clausulae and Cursus Literary Latin prose writers from at least the first century onwards regularly cultivated certain rhythmic patterns, and avoided others, especially at the ends of sense units and other syntactic breaks.50 In high classical prose these rhythms are marked by stylized arrangements of long and short syllables, as in classical poetry (a basic familiarity with the principles of classical Latin verse is assumed). These ‘quantitative’or ‘metrical’patterns are referred to as c la u s u l a . By the end of the first century a d , the following patterns had become effectively canonical (examples here all taken from the Younger Pliny, E p i s t le 7.33): The cretic + trochee, consisting of — U — | — x debëmüs ôptàrë, postulationibûs väcätürös, cognitiônë fmïtâ The double cretic or dicretic, consisting of — U — | — U x ëxsëcüti sümüs, vërîtâs süffïcït The double trochee or ditrochee, consisting of — U — x ëxprïmàtür, grätülätüs In addition, the cretic plus trochee is often found in one of the following variant forms: The cretic + resolved trochee consisting of — U — | U U x tërm ïnüm stàtüës The resolved cretic + trochee consisting of — U U U | — x sermônë cëlëbrât(a) ëst

50 There is considerable literature on the prose-rhythms of late antiquity. Readers seeking an introductory summary in English are advised to consult Powell (2012, with bibliography) or Wilkinson (1963: 135-64). Those interested in the history of the question should consult the pioneering work of Zielinski (1904). The key ancient testimonia are collected by Clark (1909). There have been numerous subsequent studies of the operation of the clausula in classical Latin; we may note e.g. Nisbet (1961: xvii-xx), Hutchinson (1995), Berry (1996:49-54), Mankin (2011: 41 -8). For the study of later Latin, the work of Hagendahl ( 1937) remains indispensable. Useful studies of individual works and authors from the period may be found in Scourfield (1993: 23342), Holmes (2002), Gray (2015: 59-68). The most comprehensive recent survey I know is that of Oberhelman (2003). Extensive further bibliography is given by Holmes at http://nigel-holmes. userweb.mwn.de/rhythm/biblalph.html, accessed 6 July 2015.

64

Introduction

The resolved cretic + trochee in particular is often seen as a particularly highflown rhythm, and is often reserved for the ends of major sense-units such as sentences; it is sometimes referred to as the esse videatur-type clausula, after a passage in which Quintilian (10.2.18) observes tartly that some would-be orators fancy themselves regular Ciceros if they but conclude their periods with this phrase. These are not the only patterns in use, but they are the commonest. Those typically avoided include the hexameter and pentameter endings (— U U | — x and — U U x) and the rhythms of iambic verse (U — U —). In later Latin, another system comes into use. This is based on the opposition between stressed and unstressed syllables (marked here as s and s). These rhythmic patterns are referred to as cursus. The commonest patterns are the following: The cursus planus, consisting of s s s s s debémus optare, cognitione finita The cursus tardus, consisting of s s s s s s véritas sùflkit, términum statues The cursus trispondaicus, consisting of s s s s s s sermone celebrata (e)st The cursus velox, consisting o f s s s s s s s saécul(o) est gratulatus, postulationibus vacaturos It will be clear that the examples chosen here to illustrate the cursus come from those chosen to illustrate the clausula·, thus the cursus planus is simply a typical cretic + trochee sequence, reanalysed according to accent rather than quantity. The cursus tardus may likewise be derived from a double cretic or from a cretic + resolved trochee. The cursus trispondaicus may be derived from a resolved cretic + trochee, and the cursus velox from double trochee or from a form of the cretic + trochee. Not all classical clausulae will lend themselves to this reanalysis (from the examples we have considered, exsecuti sumus would be a case in point), but very many will. There is a widespread consensus, taken here to be correct, that the origins of the cursus system do indeed lie in the reanalysis of the clausula.51 In connexion with the Vita Martini, the question of chronology arises. We may ask at what point the cursus system arises, and how it comes to displace the clausula. More specifically, given that many rhythmic patterns may be analysed as either quantitative or accentual (or both), what can we tell from other sources about whether the cursus system was available to Sulpicius Severus, and if so, which system (if any) he was likely to prefer.

51 This is, of course, a very telegraphic account of the cursus system. For a fuller study, see Oberhelman (2003), Janson (1975).

The Style of the Vita Martini

65

We need not try here to establish a precise date for the rise of the cursus system. Most accounts give a date no later than ad 300.52Some of the evidence supporting this view is considered below. It seems clear that Sulpicius Severus could have written a primarily accentual system had he wished. However, there is also agreement that some literary writers continue to observe quantities in the late fourth and early fifth centuries and beyond. For reasons considered below, we will start from the premise that Sulpicius Severus’ rhythms are primarily quantitative; though, as we will see, the influence of accent cannot be excluded in all cases. The Clausulae of the Vita Martini We have noted above that where clausulae are found, they occur at the ends of sense units and other syntactic breaks. For present purposes, I have considered all the prose rhythms that fall before a major sense break, that is, before a full stop, colon, semi-colon, question mark, or exclamation mark. The normal principles of post-classical scansion have been observed, notably the shortening of long l o i vowels in word-final position in nominative and adverbial endings (thus e.g. nemo not nemo), common from the later first century ad. The classical rules of elision have likewise been observed, in accordance with the arguments set out for classical Latin by Riggsby (1991); though it should be noted that Riggsby allows for an element of flexibility in the matter, and that we may need to allow for a spelling pronunciation’ of Latin, at least in formal contexts, by the late fourth century.53 In other matters I generally follow the principles set out in Hagendahl (1937). In a small number of ambiguous cases, such as the quantity of the second syllable of mihi or sibi, I have silently assumed the quantity which seems to me to give the most typical ending, so far as this can be ascertained. I have included the very small number of cases which do not form the conclusion of a periodic sentence (e.g. 3.2 quid tamen ageret?)·, these are sometimes excluded in studies of this kind, but are included here on the grounds that the overall effect of these on the figures will be very slight, and that constructing grounds for inclusion or exclusion is likely to introduce as much distortion as it prevents. The rhythmic patterns identified have been grouped according to the nineteen main classes proposed by Hagendahl (1937:18), and followed also by

Hagendahl (1937: 89) believed the accentual system was developed by the time of Arnobius rhetor (around 300). Oberhelman (1988) has claimed Minucius Felix, along with Cyprian of Carthage and Lactantius, as the first definite exponents of the system. ’’ Hagendahl (1937: 96-9), following Lorenz, proposes a set of rules for determining when elision must or may occur in later Latin prose. I have some doubts over the rules he follows, partly because of the risk of circularity in the argument, partly because it seems to me that a set of rules should admit of fewer exceptions than these allow. But given the relative infrequency of vowel juncture in the Vita, our data for the work as a whole are not greatly affected whether these rules are followed or not.

Introduction

66

The Style of the Vita Martini

Hyltén (1940: 31).54 Hagendahls system has the merit of concentrating in the first instance on the purely empirical matter of the various sequences of long and short syllables, rather than imposing foot-divisions and labels upon them (thus the sequence — U — U U x is an example of Type 3, rather than cretic + tribrach or cretic + resolved trochee). I have, however, reverted to the traditional labels in my discussion, since these are largely established in antiquity and seem to represent the way the sequences are conceptualized. Table 4 Clausulae in the Vita Martini Form

Occurrences

Percentage

1 2

UUUx UU-UUx

7

2

1.74 0.50

3

—U - U U x

28

6.97

4

----- U U x

5

1.24

5

UUU-Ux

4

6

-U U -U x

0

1.00 0

7

-U -U x

24

5.97

8

U U ----- U x

4

1.00

- U ------U x

64

15.92

3

0.75 2.74

Type

9

10 11 12

U -------- U x ------------ U x U U U U —x

11 2

13

-U U U -x

23

5.72

—U U —x

5

1.24

14

0.50

15

- U - x

83

20.65

16

U U U ------x

9

2.24

17

— U U ------X

5

1.24

18

- U ------X

103

25.62

19

--------------- X

18

4.48

2

0.50

Other

It follows that the cretic + trochee, including its various resolved forms, accounts for 25.5 + 2.25 + 5.75 + 7 = 40.5 per cent (allowing for ambiguous cases); that the ditrochee accounts for 20.75 per cent; and the dicretic accounts for 16 per cent; so that these three rhythms with their sub-forms account for 77.25 per cent of the examples considered. 54 The figures I give differ slightly from Hyltén’s. I assume that this is a result of our use of different forms of the text. There is general agreement on our conclusions.

67

Of the remainder, the two most common types are the cretic + iambus (— U — U x) at 5.71 per cent, and the double spondee (-----------x) at 4.22 per cent. The cretic + iambus is sometimes cited as a disfavoured rhythm, but it would seem more accurate here to describe it as less favoured (or, in Scourfield’s phrase (1993: 238), ‘at best of moderate quality’). We may think that in some cases it is linked with the expression of the unpleasant or distasteful (thus Martin’s parents, gentilibus tamen; the robber’s ghost, sordidam, trucem; Martin’s episcopal clothing, vilitas erat), which may be in accord with the traditional association of the iambus with the low style (see Aristotle, Rhetoric 3.8; Cicero, Orator 192.74). But it is hard to construct a general theory out of this. The double spondee is traditionally one of the rhythms of historical prose writing, notably Sallust and Livy (Aili 1979: 92-7, 124); notable is the early example 1.1, illustrassent, where Severus is setting out his stall in a preface which alludes to both historians. Accentual Rhythms All this rests on the assumption that we are dealing primarily with a system of quantitative rather than accentual rhythms, or, in other words, with clausulae rather than cursus. Given that the cursus was, by common consent, an established system by Severus’ day, we may need to justify this assumption. There is, in fact, no single conclusive argument for it. There is, however, a cogent external argument, in that an analysis of the rhythms as quantitative yields similar figures to an analysis of the rhythms in texts that clearly pre-date the accentual system. There is also an internal argument, on the basis of the non-occurrence or very low frequency of a number of quantitative patterns which we might expect to be common if the author were aiming at purely accentual rhythms. Thus if we attempt to analyse the cadences in the Vita Martini as cursus, we find that the commonest ending is the cursus planus. Of these cursus plani, very many correspond also to the regular cretic + trochee clausula; thus 2.4, devotus implévit, 3.1, paùperem nùdum, 3.3, pdrte vestitum. Some do not; thus 5.4, sustinuit diter may be analysed as an unusual form of resolved cretic + trochee (— U U U. — x, where the . indicates a word break), 12.1 paûlulum stétit as a cretic + iambus (— U — U x), 20.7 episcoporum fecisset as a rather more intractable sequence (U — U ------------- x), perhaps a double spondee or molossus + trochee. Rarely if ever do we find examples of a cursus planus arising from the hexametric dactyl + trochee ending (e.g. primus ab oris, conderet urbem, unde Latinum); only 12.1, obvium haberet, would seem to fit this description, and this case is complicated by the presence of elision or hiatus. Similarly, there are many cadences in the Vita Martini which lend them­ selves to analysis as cursus tardi. Of these, very many correspond to the regular double cretic clausula, thus 2.2, spirdvit infdntia, 3.3, iubétur agnoscere, 3.4, dnte praedixerat; or to the cretic + resolved trochee, such as 3.2, rdrsus indditur, 4.3,

Introduction pugnaturus accipiat. Very rarely, however, do we find examples of a cursus tardus arising from a sequence of dactyl + dactyl. If the author were aiming to produce accentual cadences, then we might expect to see sequences such as dicere possumus, visus ab omnibus, or esse recepimus; but in the cases I have considered, the only possible counter-example is in 1.3, gloria profuit, and even here we have to take the muta + liquida sequence as equivalent to a single consonant (so Hagendahl 1937: 91ff). It should be borne in mind that we have considered a representative sample of clausulae rather than the whole. Within that sample, however, there are fifty-two clear examples of the cursus planus corresponding to a double trochee, and twenty-four to a cretic plus resolved trochee, and only the one questionable case arising from a double dactyl. Likewise also the cursus tardus could, in an accentual system, easily rise from a molossus + cretic sequence (------. — | — U x). But, while the molossus + cretic is common in Cicero, it is rare in later Latin prose. 1 count eleven in my sample of the Vita Martini, of which just two have the necessary word division to give a cursus tardus; and of these two, one is in the formulaic opening address fratri carissimo, leaving just 25.1, sciebant, cognovimus. Once again, an acceptable accentual sequence hardly ever occurs where this would correspond to a disfavoured quantitative sequence. The most convincing explanation of these phenomena is that quantity, rather than accent, is the primary determinant of the cadences in the Vita Martini. We may still ask, however, whether accentual factors play a part. As we have noted above, the commonest forms of the cretic + trochee may equally be analysed as cursus plani; likewise the commonest forms of the double cretic and the cretic + resolved trochee may be analysed as cursus tardi; and the commonest resolved cretic + trochee as the cursus trispondaicus. In short, these sequences are at least liable to analysis as accentual rather than quantitative, especially if the classical distinction between long and short vowels was largely eroded by the end of the fourth century. We will return to this point shortly. The ditrochaic clausula presents particular problems. There is indeed some rather metaphysical discussion in the scholarship on whether this counts as a clausula at all by itself, or whether it should not be considered without reference to the preceding syllables.55*It is notable that in the Vita Martini the commonest type of ditrochaic ending consists of a four-syllable word which is usually preceded by a cretic (e.g. impudens occupassem; x 19), dactyl (e.g. Caesare militavit; x 11), or anapaest (e.g. cupiunt, praedicabant; x9), and only rarely by a molossus (baptismi candidatum; x6), spondee (all subsumed within the set of

55 ‘Si je donne ici le nom de ditrochée à une des principales formes métriques, c’est sans aucune intention de prendre parti dans la question très discutée de savoir si le ditrochée est à lui seul une clausule ou non’ (Hagendahl 1937: 33). For a fuller discussion, see now Winterbottom (2011).

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69

molossus + ditrochee), or trochee (venisse nuntiatur; x2).36 This is unlikely to be coincidental, both because of the general prevalence of long syllables over short in Latin and because even without this prevalence, any three-syllable sequence (such as cretic, dactyl, or anapaest) is less likely than any two-syllable sequence (such as spondee or trochee). The three favoured sequences, then, all give the same accentual cursus velox, s s s. s s s s (perhaps with a slight secondary accent on the fourth syllable; note that the . here denotes a word break), despite having different quantitative patterns. This distribution is similar to that found in other later Latin texts; Hagendahl (1937: 33ff, 259) notes in Arnobius a total of 186 examples of the cretic + ditrochee, 93 of the dactyl + ditrochee, and 96 of the anapaest + ditrochee, as opposed to 9 examples of the molossus + ditrochee, 9 further spondee + ditrochee not included in this figure, and 16 of the trochee + ditrochee. A similar accentual pattern may be observed in other cadences which end in a four-syllable word. Thus 2.5, saepius ministraret; 2.7, monachus putaretur; ZΛ, praestantibus reservari; 3.2, habitu videretur; 5.2, iniuriae videretur; 5.6, dominum precaretur; 7.1, febribus laborabat; 7.4, mortuum reliquissent; 9.1, ecclesiae petebatur; 9.3, ecclesiam sacerdote; 10.7, infirmitas coegisset; 10.9, cuperet sacerdotem; 16.3, filia rogaturus; 18.2, oppido fugaretur; 19.1, incommodi putaretur; 27.3, episcopi ferebantur; 27.4, aliis senserimus are all in quantitative terms examples of the cretic + trochee, but in accentual terms examples of the cursus velox. The same accentual pattern underlies also Hagendahl’s Type 16 rhythm, U U U ------ x, which we have suggested may be analysed as a sort of resolved cretic + trochee; thus 1.8, excellentlä nötärentür; 7.7, apostolïcüs hàbërëtür; 21.1, imagine vïdërëtür. It maybe rele­ vant also that where Sallust ends a clausula with a tetrasyllable word of the form — ------ x, he typically precedes it with the sequence — U —, with a word boundary between the two sequences (Aili 1979: 94-5). This of course creates the accentual sequence s s s. s s s s; thus e.g. Catiline 36, capitâlïüm côndêmnàtïs, 46, consult decläräntür. How Severus’ rhythms were intended, and how they would have been perceived, are difficult questions. As we have noted above, this is largely implicated with the question of whether the opposition between long and short vowels is likely to have been actively perceived by Latin speakers in the late fourth century. The evidence for this is mixed. Particularly relevant here is the rise of accentual ‘hexameters’ in sub-literary Latin poetry, since these show a reanalysis of word accent, a secondary feature of the classical Latin hexameter, as the prim ary and defining feature of their rhythm; a process which parallels exactly the one posited for the rise of the cursus from the clausula. The origin of this process is not easy to date precisely (antecedents have been claimed as MWinterbottom (2011: 263) notes that whenever Cicero comments on this sequence, he is referring specifically to a tetrasyllable word.

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Introduction

early as the Pompeian graffiti), but the earliest dateable piece of sustained and unequivocally accentual verse I know is the poem of M. Porcius Iasucthan from 222, discussed by Adams (1999), beginning: Portam vetustate conlabsam lapidi quadrato areo curvato restituit Omnes praeteriti cuius labore vitabant rigido iuvenum vigore tertia Augustani fe c e ru n t.. ,37 ‘He restored the gateway, collapsed with age, with square-cut stone and a curved arch, [a task] of which all men in the past shunned the labour. The Third, the Augustans, did this with the firm vigour of the young ..

The evidence of the Christian poet Commodian, again an unequivocally accentual poet, would be conclusive if his date could be established with cer­ tainty; somewhere around 250 seems currently preferred, but cannot be estab­ lished. This is at least consistent with the dating of Iasucthan’s poetical foray. A broadly similar date has been claimed for the origin of the accentual rhythm in Latin prose writing. Oberhelman (1988) claims that accentual factors start to become prominent in the late second and early third century, notably in the works of Minucius Felix and of Cyprian. Hagendahl (1937: 74ff) held that many of Arnobius’ rhythms were simultaneously quantitative and accentual, and that some at least were accentual rather than quantitative. By Severus’own day, then, it appears that an accentual, or partly accentual, pattern was entirely available to him. Indeed, it is questionable whether Latin speakers naturally perceived vowel length as such. Central here is the somewhat ambiguous evidence of Augustine. His statement that African ears cannot judge between short and long vowels’ (Afrae aures de correptione vocalium vel productione non iudicant; De Doctrina Christiana 4.10) may be taken to indicate that this distinction was alive and well in other areas.5758However, the discussion between the Master and the Student in his De Musica 2.1.1 ff suggests a different conclusion: here the Student admits to an instinctive awareness that spoken Latin contains some syllables that are longer than others, but appears to concede that without formal education he would not know which was which.59 Of course the availability of an accentual system does not mean that Severus would have felt compelled to use it. He could perfectly well have continued 57 Text here taken from Adams. The line division is original. Ascribing restituit to the following line would arguably improve the metre, such as it is, of the first line. But it would also destroy the acrostic of Iasucthan’s name, and in any case such embellishments as a run-on verb would be untypical of his style. 58 Note also that a simple merger of long and short vowels in all positions, without major change in vowel quality, is also reconstructed for proto-Sardinian; see e.g. Harris (1988: 32). More light should be cast by Loporcaro (2015; non vidi). 59 It is tempting to see the Student’s professions of ignorance here as a purely Socratic irony; as tempting as this is, however, it seems clear that he is genuinely ignorant of quantities he has not been taught. For further discussion of this and related passages, see Formarier (2010), with references.

71

writing quantitative clausulae, just as a poet of his day could continue (as many did) to write quantitative verse. This appears to have been his practice, and indeed he appears to have been conservative in his usage; thus the post-classical licence pointed out by Holmes (2007) whereby Vegetius could shorten final vowels in open syllables is one which he largely ignores. Moreover, as we have noted, there is a strong argument from the absence of certain accentual patterns when derived from a disfavoured quantitative sequence. Nonetheless, the ditrochaic clausula is regularly handled in such a way as to produce a cursus velox. We are dealing, then, with a mixture of quantitative and accentual elements. The Cursus M ixtus We have so far treated the question as one of an either/or opposition between quantitative and accentual systems. I have avoided invoking the term cursus mixtus, which is sometimes used as an attempt to bring clarity to the discussion. The account given by Scourfield ( 1993:235-6) illustrates some of the difficulties inherent in this phrase, which, according to Scourfield, has no ancient authority b ut [...] is often used to denote a system in which regard is had to b oth accentual an d m etrical patterns ... [T]wo versions of the cursus m ixtus were used. In the stricter version, clausulae were confined largely to the three principal form s o f the cursus ... The m ore relaxed version sought a greater variety o f accentual rhythm s an d m etrical forms, though those favoured by the stricter version were still predom inant. Equally, cwrsus-only works might be w ritten either w ith close adherence to the three standard forms, or with greater freedom .

In the ‘stricter’ version outlined by Scourfield, then, literary writers typically aimed at rhythms which combined both quantitative clausula and accentual cursus, such as divinamque virtutem (cretic + trochee or cursus planus), spiravit infantia (double cretic or cursus tardus) or rursus indûitur (cretic + resolved trochee or cursus tardus), latere voluisset (resolved cretic + trochee or cursus trispondaicus). The main drawback of this approach is not so much the absence of ancient authority (though this is hardly a point in its favour) as the sheer difficulty of assessing how far such combinations are consciously sought by authors or perceived by their readers. As a description of the external phenomena, the phrase cursus mixtus may fit well; but it tells us little about such underlying intentions or perceptions. When we add the fact that, on Scourfield’s account, the phrase cursus mixtus can take in anything from a deliberate combination of metrical and accentual features to an essentially accentual system which may (or may not) coincide with a metrical one, it appears that this description is so broad that it is likely to be applicable to a variety of very different cases. I remain reluctant, then, to describe the patterns found in the Vita Martini as cursus mixti, mainly because it is hard to use such a phrase without an implicit

Introduction

72

suggestion that this is a recognized rhythmical system. We have, however, noted that Sulpicius Severus not only prefers a sequence of s s s (whether arising from a dactyl, anapaest, or cretic) before a ditrochee to a sequence of s s; notable also that he frequently employs the same sequence before any paroxytonic word of four syllables (thus saepius ministraret, febribus laborabat, and so on). Despite recent advances, then, it is hard to feel that we have a satisfactory conceptual grasp of how late Latin authors produced their prose rhythms and how they were perceived by their readers. It is hard not to sympathize with Winterbottoms (2011: 267) statement that ‘there are no firm criteria for deciding whether a given piece of prose is metrical or accentual. There is, instead, a spectrum ... [which] makes polarization of metrical and accentual rhythms, and talk, too, of cursus mixtus, unprofitable.’ In the case of the Vita Martini, this does appear something of an overstatement; there seem to be numerous instances where quantitative patterns trump accentual ones; it is much harder to point to examples of the opposite. There does appear to be a clear interaction between the two, over and above what is likely to arise by chance. It is hard, however, to elevate this to the status of a distinct system.

The Style of the Vita M artini

73

(3) Testabantur etiam aliqui ex fratribus audisse së daëmônëm (double cretic/ c u rs u s p l a n u s ) ('!

protervis Martinum vôcïbüs ïncrëpântëm, (dactyl + ditrochee/cursus velo x ) cur intra monasterium aliquos ex fratribus, qui olim baptismum diversis errôrïbüs perdidissent, (dactyl + ditrochee/cursus v elo x ) conversos postea rëcëpïssët, (cretic + t r o c h e e / cu rsu s velox) exponentem crimina singülörüm; (dactyl + ditrochee/cursus velo x ) (4) Martinum diabolo rëpügnântëm (cretic + trochee/cursus velo x ) respondïssë cônstântër, (cretic + trochee/cursus p la n u s ) antiqua delicta (cretic + trochee/c u rs u s p la n u s ) melioris vitae conversation pürgârî, (cretic + trochee/cursus p la n u s) et per misericordiam Domini (cretic + resolved trochee/cursus ta rd u s) absolvendos ëssë pëccâtîs (cretic + trochee/cursus p la n u s ) qui peccârë dësïërïnt. (cretic + resolved trochee/cursus ta rd u s ). Contra dicente diabolo non pertinere ad vënïâm criminosos, (anapaest + ditrochee/cursus v e lo x ) et semel lapsis nullam a Domino praestari pôssë clëmëntïâm, (double cretic/ c u rs u s ta r d u s )

tunc in hanc vocem fertur exclamâssë Martinüs: (cretic + trochee/cursus

Rhythms at Minor Breaks The data considered above have all come from relatively prominent sense breaks. It should be noted, however, that it is often possible to detect rhythmic patterns at less prominent breaks, even though it is not always clear how far this should be pushed. To illustrate the possibilities, and some of the difficulties, of this approach, I give below the texts of chapter 22, with what I regard as the most salient rhythms marked out: 22 (1) Frequenter autem diabolus, dum mille nocendi artibus sanctum virum conabâtür Illüdërë (double cretic/c u rsu s ta rd u s ), visibilem se ei formis diversissimis ïngërëbât (cretic + ditroch e e /c u r s u s v e lo x ). Nam interdum in Iovis personam, plerümquë Mërcürï (cretic + trochee/ cu rsu s p la n u s),

saepe etiam se Veneris ac Minervae trânsfïgürâtüm (cretic + trochee) vültïbüs ôffërébât (dactyl + ditroche e / c u rsu s velox)·, adversus quem sëmpër ïntërritüs (double cretic/c u rs u s ta r d u s ) signo se crucis et orationis auxïlïô prôtëgëbât (anapaest + ditrochee/cursus velox).

(2) Audiebantur plerümquë cönviciä (double cretic/c u rs u s ta r d u s ) quibus illum türbä daëmônüm (cretic + iambus/cursus m e d i u s )6U protervis vôcïbüs ïncrëpâbat; (dactyl + ditroche e /c u r s u s v e lo x ) sed omnia falsa et vänä cögnöscens (cretic + t r o c h e e / c u rsu s p la n u s ) non movebätür ôbiéctïs. (cretic + trochee/c u rsu s p la n u s ) “ The cretic + iambus and the cursus medius here are unusual. The phrase may have been pronounced türbä daëmônüm/tûrba daemônum, with the Greeknoun assimilated to the augmentative/ pejorative -o -onis suffix; cf Commodian, Instructiones 1.34.19, daemônum fana vitate.

p la n u s )

(5) ‘Si tu ipse, miserabilis, ab hominum insectatiônë dësïstërës (double cretic/ c u r s u s ta r d u s )

et te factorum tuorum, vel hoc tempore, cum dies iudicii in prôxïm(o) ëst, paënïtërët, (dactyl + ditrochee/cursus v elo x ) ego tibi vere confisus in Domino Iesu Christo misericördiäm pôllïcérër.’ (cretic + ditrochee/cursus v elo x ) O quam sancta de Domini pietâtë praësümptïô, (double cretic/c u rsu s ta rd u s) in qua etsi auctoritatem praestârë nön pötüit, (cretic + resolved trochee/ c u rs u s ta r d u s )

ostëndït âffëctüm. (cretic + trochee/cursus p la n u s ) (6) Et quia de diabolo eiusdemque artibus sërm(o) ëxôrtüs ëst, (molossus + iambus/cursus m e d iu s ) 62 non ab re videtur, licet extrinsecus, refërrë quöd gést(um) ëst (cretic + iambus/cursus p la n u s ) quia et quaedam in eo Martini virtutum portio est et res digna mirâcülô (double cretic /c u r s u s ta r d u s ) recte memoriae mandabitur in exemplum cavendi, si quid deinceps uspiam tâlë côntïgërït. (cretic + resolved trochee/cursus ta r d u s )

I assume here a short /o/ in daemonem, notwithstanding the possibility of a long loi raised in connexion with turba daemonum a few lines above. We may alternatively posit the reading audissë daëmônëm, with ellipsis of the reflexive pronoun, though this is hardly required. It seems more likely to me that Sulpicius Severus is exploiting the two possible pronunciations as a form of variatio. 'j2 I have assumed elision here, though as we have noted, it is not certain that this is obligatory. The rhythm sêrmô ëxôrtüs est (double cretici cursus tardus) would be more in line with Severus’ general preferences.

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Introduction

Various features stand out. The first is the sheer prevalence of rhythmical patterns, even at relatively minor sense breaks, and sometimes within sense units (thus e.g. antiqua delicta at 22.4). This may in part be a trick of perspective, in that I have deliberately chosen a relatively ‘maximalist’ approach; but even granted some problematic cases (e.g. the question of elision versus hiatus at 22.6, sermo exortus est), it would be difficult to conjure such a large num ber of rhythmical patterns out of nothing. The second is the very close overlap between quantitative and accentual patterns. The vast majority of cases considered here lend themselves to analysis as both clausulae and cursus, though, as we have noted, this tells us nothing about either the author’s intention or about his readers’likely perception of the rhythm. Thirdly, we note the puzzling fact that the interval between the rhythmic patterns can vary considerably. Granted that some rhythms within clauses (of the antiqua delicta type) may be ignored, it is still surprising that at 22.6 the rhythm at vïrtütüm pértï(o) est is no more striking than a molossus + cretic (Hagendahl’s Type 11, not common in later Latin) or cursus medius. We may need to accept either that the intervals between recognizable patterns may vary, or that readers were more attuned to the minor patterns than we might expect.

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nutare pinus et ruinam suam casura minitari may easily suggest iam paulatim nutare videtur/pinus, et ipsa suum casum ruitura minari. Again at 13.7, pallebant eminus monachi et periculo iam propiore conterriti spem omnem fidemque perdiderant may easily suggest pallebant monachi, spemque et propiore periclo/perdiderant omnem, or iam iam propiore periclo/pallentes spectant monachi, iam spemque fidemque/perdiderant omnem. The Vita Martini did indeed attract verse paraphases by Paulinus of Périgueux (floruit c.460) and by Venantius Fortunatus (floruit c.570).64 While these paraphrases are inevitably at times very close to the original, what is often notable is the extent to which they diverge from Severus’ text. Thus in Paulinus the words of 8.3, defunctus erigitur; lentoque conamine enisus adsurgere become erigitur totum subito molimine corpus, while in Venantius Fortunatus ( Vita Martini 1.174-6) the whole passage is reworked completely: paulatim adsurgit fabrica titubante columna/erigiturque iacens pariter domus et suus hospes (‘gradually the fabric rises, though the column shakes, and the fallen house is raised along with its inhabitant’) (on which see Roberts 1989: 139-42). In these cases it is perhaps the sheer ease with which Severus’ work falls into hexameters that leads his paraphrasis to avoid the obvious minor alterations which would be enough to get it into verse form.

Hexametric Tags As we have noted, the origins of the clausula system have often been identified in a desire to give prose a rhythmic form distinct from both the dactylic rhythms of epic and the iambic rhythms of drama, especially of comedy. Nonetheless, there are various occasions in the Vita where we find sequences which could belong in dactylic verse. Setting a minimum of two feet, and allowing for line-breaks, we may note the following: 6.4: Italiam repetens; 11.5, exposuit, iussitque; 13.3, ruentem excipe (potentially the ending of one verse and the beginning of another); 14.2, rapido cursu; 16.8, firmatis gressibus; 17.7, obsesso corpore poenis; 17.7, foeda relinquens; 17.7, vestigia fluxu. This list is unlikely to be exhaustive. In addition to these, there are a number of occasions where a minor reordering of elements or substitution of words would yield hexameter verse. This may be very simple; thus at 4.3, Christi ego miles sum readily suggests Christi ego sum miles. At times a greater rearrangement is needed, but still without obscuring the basic model. Thus we note that at 8.3, defunctus erigitur; lentoque conamine enisus adsurgere, where the form conamine by itself may suggest a poetic register,63 we may easily move to something like at mortuus ille/erigitur, lentoque levat conamine corpus. Similarly at 13.6, iamque paulatim

63 The current Brepolis Library of Latin Texts A lists twenty-six instances of conamine in Latin down to ad 430, of which twenty-one occur in verse. The earliest prose attestation is in pseudoCyprian of Carthage.

Word Order The R om anam condere gentem Sequence Latin, like many other ancient Indo-European languages, made free use of a device whereby words which stand in a close syntactic relationship to each other may be separated by other elements which cohere with them less closely.65 One of the most common devices in later Latin literary prose is the practice of ending a syntactic unit with the sequence Modifier-Verb-Headword (perhaps most famously in Virgil, Aeneid 1.7, tantae molis erat Romanam condere gentem). Parallels for this may be found in various branches of Indo-European,66 but in later Latin authors it is likely that this was perceived either as a poeticism acceptable in prose, or simply as an example of the high prose style. From the Vita we may note the following: 6.3, suo salvavit exemplo; 11.5, superstitionis illius absolvit errore; 13.9, illi venisse regioni; 16.1, ex consequenti liquebit exemplo; 17.4, miro coluit affectu; 20.1, sacerdotalem non cessisse constantiam; 26.2, nulla explicabit oratio. Where we find the order

64On which generally see Labarre (1998), Roberts (2009, especially 199ff). 65For an excellent recent treatment, see Powell (2010). 66For other examples, see Fortson (2010: 154).

76

Introduction

Headword-Verb-Modifier, it is typically the modifier which is emphasized; thus 3.5, non in gloriam est elatus humanam; 5.2, ministerio vincire divino. It is tempting to suggest that such endings have been chosen in order to give a ringing clausula, but probably mistaken; Severus is entirely capable of producing good clausulae without recourse to this device, though doubtless it was useful. Certainly the separation of adjective and noun has had the effect in some cases of eliminating potential elisions (absolvit errore not error(e) absolvit, miro coluit affectu not mir(o) affectu coluit), while in others it prevents the sequence of homoteleutic adjective and noun (ministerio vincire divino not divino ministerio vincire, illi venisse regioni not illi regioni venisse). The ‘Enclosing’ Word Order Generally The Romanam condere gentem sequence may be viewed as a very simple example of the enclosing’word order, in which a syntactic sequence begins and ends with words in close grammatical relation to each other. This feature is common in classical Latin verse, where by the Augustan period at least it often appears to be not much more than a marker of poetic style; but where it is found in classical prose we can as a rule point plausibly to some particular point of emphasis that the writer wishes to make. Indeed, as Pearce (1966; 168-70) points out, in cases such as Cicero, De Finibus 2.68, omnis est enim de virtutis dignitate contentio or In Catilinam 1.1, magna dis immortalibus habenda est atque huic ipsi Iovi Statori, antiquissimo custodi huius urbis, gratia, the adjectival element in the pair is naturally emphatic. In later Latin literary prose, as exemplified by the Vita Martini, the situation is somewhat more complicated. Thus at 7.3, laxatis in usum videndi palpitare luminibus, we may point to a logical connexion between the laxatis and luminibus (it is the fact of their being released from the stiffness of death which enables the man to see). At 12.2, misera per agros suos circumferre dementia, we may feel that the enclosing word order emphasizes the adjective (the pagans are not merely misguided, but pitiably so); likewise at 18.4, crebras super infirmantibus egere virtutes (they performed not just miracles, but frequent ones). With these we should probably group also 15.1, furens gentilium rusticorum in eum irruit multitudo, and 23.6, grandis omnium ad hanc professionem exspectatio, though one is sometimes tempted to feel that the initial adjective adds relatively little to the sense and is there largely to facilitate this particular piece of ornamental word order.

Chiasmus Chiasmus, the ordering of elements in the sequence ABBA, may be seen as a special form of enclosing word order. It is a favourite device of Severus’. We have already seen the case of 2.2, sacra illustris pueri spiravit infantia (A l A2 N2 ... NI). From the Vita we may note also: Epistula ad Desiderium 1, amore

The Style of the Vita Martini

77

tuo ... mei pudoris; Epistula ad Desiderium 5, magnam istarum umquam rerum scientiam; 3.2, interea de circumstantibus ridere nonnulli, quia deformis esse truncatus habitu videretur; multi tamen, quibus erat mens sanior, altius gemere; 4 A, metu pugnae... non religionis gratia; 73 , tota sanctum spiritum mente; 15.4, praedicatione sancta gentiles animos mitigabat; 20.1, adulationi regiae sacerdotalem non cessisse constantiam; 22.1, signo se crucis et orationis auxilio protegebat; 23.1, ad summum fidei virtutumque omnium culmen; 23.8, summa mollitie, candore eximio; 26.3, orationi incumberet aut insisteret lectioni. It will be clear, however, that these examples are not all alike. The very simplest consist of a group of four consecutive words (as at 15.4 and 23.8); but even these are not alike, since the former is of the type A1 A2 N2 N1 (where A= Adjective and N=Noun) and the latter isAl NI N2A2. In more complicated constructions, such as 3.2, the chiasmus (ridere (V) nonnulli (N) ... multi (N) ... gemere (V)) begins with two consecutive words, but is not completed till fourteen words later. However, despite such complicating factors (described by Powell 2010: 174ff as ‘long-range hyperbaton’), the identification of the chiasmus remains essentially objective. Not strictly a chiasmus, but not dissimilar, is 24.4, circumiectus ipse luce purpurea... veste etiam regia indutus, with the order participle-noun-adjective ... noun-adjective-participle. While chiasmus is not confined to any one author or register of classical Latin, it is hard in this context not to be reminded of its prevalence in the works of Sallust; thus for instance Catiline 5.4, satis eloquentiae, sapientiae parum, 20.10, viget aetas, animus valet. As appears from these examples, Sallust’s preference is for the shorter, more compact unit. Tacitus typically follows Sallust in this; compare Histories 1.20, sentire quae uelis et quae sentias dicere. Severus’practice thus reminds us of Sallust, while also letting us glimpse his higher level of technical virtuosity. Interlocking Word Order Lastly, we come to cases where the elements may be said to interlock, in some variation of the pattern ABAB. Thus we find 3.5, qua Martinas exspectatione suspensus; 93, felicem fore tali ecclesiam sacerdote; 16.5, qua ille voce confusus; 22.3, protervis Martinum vocibus increpantem (just after protervis vocibus increpabat). Again, this is a device most at home in classical Latin poetry. While examples can be found in Latin prose, these tend to be confined to notably elevated contexts (thus e.g. Livy, Preface, et quae ab initiis profecta exiguis; special cases apart, the phenomenon is notable for its rarity (Nisbet 1999: 138, with references)). Indeed, of the examples considered here, two involve relative pronouns, which tend to occupy clause-initial positions, while in 93, felicem fore tali ecclesiam sacerdote, the adjectives felicem and tali are not strictly parallel, as felicem is predicative whereas tali is attributive. So while examples

Introduction of interlocking word order maybe found in the Vita Martini, it remains far less important than enclosing word order. The phenomenon of discontinuous syntax in the Vita is not, then, homoge­ neous. At one end of the spectrum we have what is little more than a stylistic tic, a low-level way of indicating that a work should be read as belonging to a ‘literary’register. At the other, we have patterning which makes the same point, but in a much more forceful way, reminding us that we dealing not just with literary prose, but with a high register with close affinities to poetry. M im etic Syntax This term is sometimes applied to cases where the syntax of the Latin appears to have been specially arranged in some way to reflect the sense of the phrase as a whole. Possible examples include 3.4, in eodem se habitu (where se is literally surrounded by eodem ... habitu); 17.1, spiritus nullo proferri modo ... potuit (where proferri is again enclosed and not‘brought out of’the surrounding nullo ... modo). The identification of such phenomena is, however, often somewhat subjective.

Sound and Graphic Effects Alliteration, Assonance, and Anagram Alliteration is one of the most well-known markers of ‘formal’ Latin of all periods and registers. In early Latin, this is typically achieved through allitera­ tion of the initial sound of two or more words, usually close to each other in terms of distance and often in some close logical or syntactic relationship. From the first century bc Latin authors begin to seek complex patterns of alliteration. This may involve more than one alliterating sound, not necessarily in the same position in different words, and often at a longer distance from each other. So for instance in Virgil, Aeneid 4.522-3, we find placidum carpe­ bant fessa soporem/corpora (‘weary bodies were enjoying peaceful slumber’), where the postponed subject corpora is linked by sound both to the verb carpebant and to its object soporem, as well as to the adjective placidum, and where the semantically associated pair fessa soporem is also linked by allit­ eration. Such complex sound-patterning is originally at least characteristic of verse rather than prose. So far we have described this as alliteration. Given the largely phonetic nature of Latin writing, however, alliteration is likely to lead very soon to partial or complete anagrammatization of words. And of course the converse is true; anagrammatization will lead to alliteration. Perhaps the best-known instance in classical literature is from Virgil again, at Aeneid 8.322-3, LATIUMque

The Style o f the Vita Martini

79

vocari/MALUIT (‘Saturn chose that it should be called Latium ), though this is only the most obvious example from him. Another familiar case will be Horace, Epistles 2.1.156, Graecia capta ferum victorem cepit, et ARTIS/intulit AgReSTI Latio (‘Greece, once captured, captivated its savage conqueror, and brought civilization to rustic Latium’). Inevitably, the extent to which such (partial) anagrammatization is meaningful varies. In the second of these two cases, it seems clear that the Greeks are literally putting the artis into the Italian countryside. In other cases, it is far from clear what meaning, if any, we can attach to it. For an ambitious attempt at this sort of exegesis, especially in Ovid, see Ahl ( 1985,passim). W hether or not we can detect puns or wordplay at every instance, we may certainly recognize the phenomenon; to take one arbitrary sample, the first one hundred lines of Ovid’s Metamorphoses book 3 yield the following: 3-4, PATER ...imPERAT; 27, lEGIT vEsTIGia; 27, AUCToRem ... TACitURnus; 44, oMNE NEMus; 59, DiXiT, DeXTraque; 91, USQuE SEQUens; 94-5 A R B O R ... ROBoRA; 96-7,PRoMPTUM... PeReMPTUM; 98,SERPEnTem ... SPEcTabERe; 99-100, PARITER ... PERdldeRAT. Examples exist also in prose; for example, Sallust, Jugurtha 3 ,... quibus per fraudem iisfUIT UTI, TUtI ...; 64.3, ALIA tALIA, but it is generally rarer in prose. In post-classical poetry, such anagrammatization becomes something of a stylistic tic, and it is very often hard to attach specific meaning to it. At the same time, there remains, or perhaps arises, a sense that letters are in some way analogous to the primal elements of the universe. This sense is reflected in and reinforced by some of the terminology: both Greek στοιχβΐον and Latin elementum can mean both element’ and ‘letter’, and surviving magical papyri often show the importance attached to sequences of letters as a means of manipulating the universe. It is unlikely that Severus himself is influenced by any such considerations; nonetheless the level of anagrams (implying, of course, alliteration and assonance) in the Vita Martini is unusually high, especially for a prose work. The examples listed below are not intended to be exhaustive: 4, S A L U tE m S A E cU L o ; 4, U T Iq u e . .. U T Ile; 2.6, IIS vitH S; 4.4, E U M M E t U ; 5.6, A U D I T a D IcA n T U r; 6.3, P A T R E ... P E R s e v e r A n T e ; 6.5, H E r B a R U M . .. H E lle B o R U m ; 7.2, IT A su b IT A ; 7.4, C L A M O R E C O M p L E v e R A t; 10.3, F E R rE F R E q u e n ta n tiu m . .. FERE; 12.4, O N U s p O N U n t; 12.2, D A E M o N u m . .. D E M e N tiA ; 13.5, A R B itR iO . . . A R B O R e m ; 13.7, M a R T in i M o R T e m ; 13.9, C A E L u M C L A M o r E ; 14.5, D I R u E R E T u r ... R E D IR E T ; 14.7, c L A M A n te s p A L A M ; 15.2 a L T I U S e x T U L I S s e t, R e sU p I n u s R U It; 16.5, E S se SE; 16.7, f A M i l iR i A . .. A R M A ; 17.7, f o e d a r e lin q u e n s V E S T Ig ia f l u x u V E nTrIS e g e s tu s est; 17.7, f o e d a r e lin q u e n s v E S T ig ia f l u x u v e n tr is egE ST us EST; 19.4, E L V eR e V u L n E R a ; 24.4, A R T E T E m p tA v e R it; 22.4: C L e M e n tia m , tu n c in h a n c v o c e m f e r t u r e x C L a M a s s e ; 23.2, I n n o c E N T I a M M E N T I tu s ; 23.6, a d m e d ia m F E R e n o c te m F R E m itu ; 23.6, O M N E M O N a s tE r iu m ; 23.7, IN D u T u S , oS T eN D It; 23.9, IL L U d i IL L U m ; 23.10, D l S s lm U l a r e D IU tIu S ; 25.1, G R A T a M ... E p is tu la a d D e s id e r iu m

3.3, IS T IS ,

m ih i fe c IS T IS ;

Notes on the Text pereGRinATioneM; 25.4, sermo autem ilLIUS non aLlUS; 25.4, oNERA REliNquendA·, 25.4, PRAESTaNtlssiMUmquE nobis PRAESENTIUM·, 25.4, PRaEsenTiUM TEMPoRUM·, 26.3, M AIORa iN M ARtIN O ; 27.2, vipeREO ORE·, 27.6, infidELITER LEgERIT

It is hard to identify specific ‘meanings’ in each case. Some examples are more marked than others, and such patterns will sometimes arise by chance (we might compare English OLIve OIL or heLIcOPTer PILOT). Sometimes there is some sort of grammatical or logical connexion between the words thus linked (e.g. Martini mortem, daemonum ... dementia), but in most cases this is hard to push. It is in any case extremely unlikely that Sulpicius Severus would have subscribed to any sort of letter-magic theory, given his emphasis on Martins lack of educational accomplishments. It is much more likely that this insistent wordplay should be seen as a display of conscious virtuosity, designed to reassure the learned reader that he was not compromising his literary culture by reading the work. Figura etym ologica and R hym e Before leaving the question of sound effects in the Vita Martini, we may note two other phenomena. One is the use of figura etymologica, the play on words derived from the same root; thus e.g. Epistula ad Desiderium, viri ... virtutes; 13, pugnantem ... impugnare. The other is the use of internal rhyme and pararhyme as structuring devices; thus Epistula ad Desiderium 4, oratoribus ... fuisset ... potuisset ... piscatoribus; Epistula 5, contigissem ... libassem ... perdidissem; 13, pugnantem ... philosophantem; 1.4, scribendo aut pugnando velphilosophando... vivendo. Both features may loosely be called Sallustianisms, in that they are notable features of Sallusts style (and taken over from Cato, and taken up by Tacitus); thus from the Catiline compare (for figura etymologica) 7.6 facinus faceret; 35.3, honore honestatos; (for rhyme and pararhyme) 1.2, animi imperio, corporis servitio; 3.1, fecere ... scripsere; 38.1, criminando ... largiundo atque pollicitando. But they are not confined to these authors.

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influence. This is most noticeable where we can observe Severus systematically rewriting a passage of Sallust, as he does at 10.4ff (see notes ad loc.). Tie overall effect of this is to emphasize the literary nature of the Vita; while saints’ lives are not a strictly classical’ genre, Severus is keen to let his readers know that they will not compromise their status as men of culture by reading his work. Rather, the Vita will validate the traditions of classical learning, since a familiarity with the Catiline and the Jugurtha will allow the reader to nod intelligently to himself as he recognizes the allusions. Sallust, in other words, stands in a similar relation to the Vita Martini as the Iliad or Odyssey does to the Aeneid. However, even within Latin prose it is insufficient to characterize the Vita as a strictly Sallustian work. Two of its most notable features are distinctly nonSallustian; I have in m ind Severus’frequently mannered placement of adjectives and nouns and his heavy use of the classical clausula. The first of these links him to the traditions of classical hexameter poetry, as represented by Virgil, Ovid, and their successors. The second links him to the rhetorical traditions of Cicero and others in the mainstream tradition of Latin literary prose writing, such as the Younger Seneca, the Younger Pliny, Quintus Curtius, though not the historical tradition as represented by Sallust, Livy, and Tacitus. While there are certainly examples in earlier Christian prose (Lactantius is a good example), it is far from universal in Christian writers. The early biblical translations, largely concerned to communicate as closely as reasonably possible the sense of the original, readily sacrifice such effects (Burton 2000: 82). Severus’ contemporary Augustine varies in his levels of observance; in his sermons, in which his rhetorical training presumably comes into its own, he fairly often employs such effects, whereas in the Confessions, addressed to God rather than any hum an audience, the frequency of clausulae drops off considerably. Moreover, we have seen how the Vita Martini has strong stylistic links with classical Latin poetry. This is notable in its heavy use of patterned word order, a typical feature of Latin verse; also in its use of complex patterns of assonance and alliteration, again a typically though not uniquely poetic feature; and in the repeated use of fragments of hexameter rhythm.

Conclusions: The Vita Martini and the Traditions o f Classical Latin

NO TE S O N THE TEXT

In the presentation of the data above, we have paid some attention to overlaps between Severus’style and that of Sallust. This should be kept in perspective, as none of the features identified here as ‘Sallustian’ is unique to Sallust, and even those commonest in Sallust are notable in his imitators too, especially Tacitus. Nonetheless, the sheer frequency with which some of these devices occur makes it very hard for us to identify any other writer or style with so strong an

The text given in this edition is substantially similar to that given by Fontaine ( 1967-9), and the textual base for this edition is that of Fontaine, described in Table 5. Of these, texts V K Am B M form the ‘Italian’family, and Pf Pa Pe (collectively P where all agree) along with E F A form the ‘French-German family. These are sometimes subdivided into a‘French’group (P) and a ‘German group (E F A).

Notes on the Text Table 5 Manuscripts underlying this edition Siglum V K Am B M

D Pf Pa Pe E

F A

Name and current location

Origin

Date

Veronensis XXXVIII (36), Biblioteca Capitolaria di Verona Knoerigianus, Bibliotheca Universitatis Monacensis, 4°, 3, Munich Bibliotheca Ambrosiana H 224, Milan Brixianus, Biblioteca Quiriniana A.VII.13, Brescia Bonini Mombritii Mediolanensis ... Sanctuarium seu vitae sanctorum; for international library holdings, see entry im00810000 in the British Library’s Incunabula Short Title Catologue (http://istc.bl.uk) Book of Armagh (Liber Ardmachanus), Trinity College, Dublin, 52; facsimile edition by Gwynn (1913) Parisinus latinus 13.759 Parisinus latinus 5.325 Parisinus Latinus 10.848; images online at http://gallica. bnf.fr/ark:/12148/btvlb84267798/f2.image Emmeramiamus, Lilly Library 108, Indiana University

Verona

517

South Germany North Italian Italian Printed in Milan

C8-9

Armagh

c.807

Tours Tours Tours

C9 C9 C9

Abbey of St Emmeran, Regensburg Freising

c. 830

CIO

Augsburg

C ll

Frisingensis, Monacensis latinus 6.326, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Munich Augustanus, Monacensis latinus 3.711, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Munich

C12 C15 c.1477

They are often described as the Martinelli; typically they contain Severus’ Martiniana along with records of inscription from Tours, a pseudo-M artinian creed, and excerpts from Gregory of Tours.67 The ‘Italian’ group, in contrast, does not contain the Turonian material (inscriptions, excerpts from Gregory, and creed),but a range of other material, notably from the works of Gennadius.68 The Book of Armagh D has similarities with both families, but does not belong clearly with either. It will be seen immediately that the Verona manuscript V is notably earlier than all other witnesses, and has generally been accorded a higher authority than all others. The approach adopted here is one of eclecticism, rather than a commitment to any particular‘best m anuscript(s)’; and of course the early date of the Verona manuscript is not in itself any guarantee of the quality of its text. In this connexion, we may note the theory advanced by Peebles (1940: 325) that we are in efFect dealing with a text which exists in more than one authorial 67 For the prehistory and function of this compilation, see the study by Vielberg (2006). 68 For the history of research into the text of the Vita Martini, see Halm (1866: vii-xi). I have been unable to consult the work of Zellerer (1912).

83

recension. The first would be effectively Severus’ first edition, widely dispersed throughout Gaul and Italy; the second, again by Severus, a more polished form represented in its purest form only in the Verona manuscript. The theory is attractive; certainly the Epistula ad Desiderium presupposes a private circulation of the work, followed by a general release (as indeed is common with much ancient literature). It might make sense also of the fact that some­ times both the French and Italian traditions preserve varying readings of equal merit (although this could easily happen through more general processes of textual transmission). It is a particularly intriguing possibility at 23.7, discussed below, where the French tradition gives the name of a character as Sabatius and the Italian does not name him at all. If indeed we are dealing with two editions here, then there will be instances where by definition we cannot recover a single correct reading. I have not, however, attempted to establish an archetype on any one sub-tradition. The manuscripts listed above are, as we note, the main representatives of a widely diffused tradition. Further information may be found on the website of the Bibliotheca Hagiographica Latina Manuscripta, created by the Société des Bollandistes and hosted by the Université catholique de Louvain (http://bhlms. fltr.ucl.ac.be/presentation.cfm), and, for some of the earlier manuscripts, at the Leuven Database of Ancient Books (http://www.trismegistos.org/ldab/). A history of the printed editions of the Vita Martini is outside our present scope. The value of Fontaine’s text lies not only in his own industry and acumen, but because, as he himself acknowledged, he was able to draw on the unpublished work of Hyltén and Peebles on the text (their own projected edition never appeared). Behind the work of Fontaine, Hyltén, and Peebles stand in particular the 1866 edition of Karl (Carolus) Halm, in the Corpus Christianorum series, who canonized the standard classification of the ‘French’ a n d ‘Italian’ groups, and that of Girolamo da Prato from 1741, who was first to use the Verona codex.69

Loci vexati The text followed in this edition is based on that of Fontaine, with minor variations in the conventions of orthography, capitalization, and punctuation. Listed below are all instances where we have departed more substantially from Fontaine’s text, with a brief rationale. Noted also are instances where we have followed Fontaine, but where another reading has also a serious claim on our attention; and those instances where the reading of Fontaine rests on little or w On da Prato’s edition, and his use of manuscripts, see Peebles (1936). Several editions of the Vita Martini have appeared since Fontaine’s, of which I have found most useful those of Bastiaensen et al. (1983) and of Ruggiero (2003).

Introduction

Notes on the Text

no manuscript support, but nonetheless seems preferable to the transmitted reading(s). Note also the comments on individual readings in Hyltén (1940: 85fF) and in Fontaine himself (1967-9:226ff).

6.5

84

Epistula ad Desiderium 6 This edition: loquatur auctorem. Fontaine: loquatur auctorem. Vale, frater in Christo venerabilis, decus bonorum sanctorumque omnium Fontaine’s reading is based on the authority of V. Despite the importance of this manuscript, it seems more likely that this formula would be added than lost if it were original to the text. 2.4 This edition: fuisset impedimento Fontaine: fuisset impedimento Here the manuscripts divide between fuisset impedimento in V K D, obstitisset in M P E F A, and obsisteret in Am B. Fontaine accepts Hylténs reasoning that the resulting clausula is more in line with general practice in the Vita, adding that it is a common expression among historians and jurists, two categories of writer with particular influence on Severus, while conceding that the Thesaurus Linguae Latinae gives just one instance from Christian authors. This last con­ cession, as scrupulous as it is, we may now pass over; there are ten examples in Ambrose alone. While neither of the two reasons in favour of Fontaine’s reading is conclusive, it seems more likely that/wisset impedimento would pass to obstitisset than vice versa. 5.5 This edition: profitetur Fontaine: profitebatur The manuscripts divide between profitebatur in V K Am B M (profetebatur D) and profitetur in M P E F A. The imperfect is arguably more logical, and, Fontaine notes, has the support of the Italian family. However, he suggests that profitetur is the lectio difficilior, and that such variation of tenses is identified by Hyltén (1940:66) as characteristic of Severus’ style. While either is possible, the passage profitebatur > profitetur seems palaeographically more likely. Moreover, if we detect a weak sense break here, then constantissime profitetur provides a more favoured rhythm, both accentual and quantitative, than profitebatur.

85

This edition: tempori ratus Fontaine: tempori ratus The manuscripts divide between tempori ratus in Am B D, tempori (tempore M) arbitratus in M P E F A, temporatus in K; V is absent at this point. Fontaine, with Hyltén (1940: 130), follows ‘the best manuscript tradition’, supported by the reading of Paulinus of Périgueux (1.249), despite the cretic + iambic clausula (not unparalleled in Severus). Both verbs appear in Severus (reor x 13, arbitror x22). The matter appears to be beyond resolution. 7.1 This edition: Pictavos Fontaine: Pictavos The widely transmitted reading ita is grammatical, but oddly superfluous. Am has ipse and Halm reports a reading statim. Hylténs suggestion (per litteras) to Fontaine of Pictavos seems a considerable improvement. 8.3 This edition: tmarcescentibusf Fontaine: marcentibus The manuscripts preserve a variety of forms: marcescentibus V D PeJ PP E F A, marciscentibus Pa Pe' PP, margentibus K, vultû arcescentibus K (according to Fontaine; Hyltén read arcessentibus), apertisque Am B. This is one of the most vexed readings in the Vita, and it is unlikely any proposal will command a consensus. The -escentibus element is widely preserved and some explanation is required if it is to be discounted. Equally, the tradition seems to demand a word beginning in m-. However, minim confusion is possible here. Hylténs conjectured inardescentibus would seem attractive, except that this verb in later Latin (and earlier) is almost always used metaphorically, and a physical sense seems to be required. Fontaines marcentibus (Tes yeux encore alanguis’) is palaeographically plausible, and close to Venantius’ paraphrase oculosque ex morte soporis/vix reserans, gravido vigilantia lumina visu (1.192-3). Paulinus’ elisos oculos ... lumina torva nimis (1.279-80) is too vague to be informative. Moreover, there is a problem with the sense; the dead man is coming back to life (vivescente vultu), and notwithstanding Venantius’ testimony, it would be odd if the emphasis were on his lingering deadness (a point apparently perceived by Am B). Very tentatively, we might suggest iam clarescentibus as an original reading which makes reasonable sense without being palaeographically implausible; We would then have to assume also an early corruption of that reading.

Introduction

Notes on the Text

10.7

16.3

This edition: cellulam suam Fontaine: cellulam suam This is the reading of all manuscripts except V, which omits suam, a reading tentatively upheld by Hyltén. Either reading gives a cretic + trochee clausula. The reading without suam also gives a cursus planus, which is a slight argument in its favour. However, possessive adjectives are quite common in the Vita, even in non-emphatic contexts where they might easily be omitted.

This edition: ad civitatem ... nuntiatur Fontaine: ad civitatem ... nuntiatur The reading here is supported only by V among the manuscripts, the rest having nuntiatur ad civitatem illam Martinum venisse. Fontaine does not state his reasons for preferring this reading, and we may suppose his preference arises from its being the reading of V. Either reading gives a somewhat unusual clausula; we might have expected the sequence venisse Martinum.

11.2

16.6

86

This edition: tempora Fontaine: tempus The singular tempus is read by V; the plural tempora by K P E F1A; et tempora by F2, vel tempora by Am B M D. Fontaines support for tempus is based on his sense that it is the lectio difficilior, and that it suggests a degree of precision more appropriate to Martins quest for the ‘hagiographie coordinates’ of the alleged martyrdom. To which we may say that tempora in the plural is not inappropriate to the search for information on specific dates and times (compare Mhessalonians 5:1, de temporibus et momentis, fratres, non indigetis ut scribamus vobis)·, and that in any case Martin may have been satisfied with general information on the martyrdom, had the tradition been consistent enough and accompanied by enough circumstantial detail. Tempus does not in any case appear to us to be a lectio difficilior, the scribe of V might, like Fontaine, have felt this was more appropriate (and, as we have noted, V s text may reflect the author’s second thoughts better than the wider tradition). The plural is upheld by Peebles and Hyltén.

87

This edition: Ingens turba pro foribus, exspectans Fontaine: Ingens turba pro foribus, expectans This is the reading o f V K D P E ' F A. The reading ubi ingens turba aderat is found in Am B; erat autem ingens turba ... expectans in M; ingens turba ... expectabat in E2. The reading given here is awkward, as the sentence has no main verb. But this is not an insuperable problem; verbless sentences are a feature of the Sallustian/Tacitean tradition of writing, so entirely possible here. While the widespread attestation of this reading is not in itself good evidence for it, the alternatives have the appearance of lectiones faciliores. 17.1 This edition: Eodemque Fontaine: Eodem Eodem is the reading of M Pe1Pf, eodemque of the other witnesses. We have preferred the slightly harder and rather better attested reading; though, as Fontaine says, there are legitimate grounds for doubt.

11.4 This edition: propter Fontaine: prope Propter is read by K; V has neither word; other manuscripts have prope. The adverbial use of propter is found also in Severus at Dialogues 1.18.4 (casu clibanus propter ardebat), and is the sort of archaism which is likely to appeal to him, and to be opaque to later copyists. This reading is upheld by Zellerer, and more cautiously by Hyltén.

17.5 'This edition: coquum familiae ... arripuit Fontaine: cocum patris familias ... arripuit The manuscript evidence is complex. The Veronensis V has et patrem familias ... arripuisset; the rest of the ‘Italian’group K Am B M, with D, has cocum patris familias ... arripuit (coquum KB); the ‘French’ group P E F A has quendam e familia ... arripuit. The reference to a cook is clearly early, as it is supported by the paraphrases of Paulinus of Périgueux (2.578) and Venantius Fortunatus (1.453). As Fontaine points out, demonic possession of servile figures is paralleled elsewhere in the Vita. The puzzling part is the reference to the head of the household, found in the ‘Italian’ and in D, but not the ‘French’group. Are we to suppose he has a personal

Introduction

Notes on the Text

chef? It is possible, but seems unlikely. We tentatively propose the following sequence: coquum familiae gives rise to coquum patris familias (by iteration from the previous sentence), which itself gives rise to Vs et patrem familias. The reading quendam efamilia, found in the ‘French’ family, is harder to account for, but might result either from a variant spelling quoquum familiae or simply from a desire to make some sense of a tradition by now somewhat garbled.

21.3

19.1 This edition: accentu Fontaine: accentu The manuscripts divide as follows: accentu V' K, accessu Am B M Pe2E2, accensu V2 D P E1F A. Accentus < accendo seems most likely on balance; accensus would be a variant form of the same verbal noun, and accessus < accedo is also possible; accensus and accessus may, moreover, be variant spellings of each other. This being so, it is difficult to establish which is correct; though the overall meaning is not greatly affected. 19.4 This edition: nec modicis Fontaine: et inmodicis Codex Veronensis V reads nec inmodicis, manuscripts Am and B have et non modicis, the rest have et inmodicis (in modicis in M). I have followed Halms conjecture.

21.1 This edition: spiritalis nequitiae Fontaine: nequitiae Fontaines omission of spiritalis is a rare lapse; Stancliffe (1983: 235).

21.2 This edition: ostentans Fontaine: ostendens Ostendens is found in V D, ostentans in the other manuscripts (and supported, for what it is worth, by Paulinus of Périgueux). The more unusual (and more Sallustian) form seems preferable.

89

This edition: fuisset affectus Fontaine: affectus fuisset Affectus fuisset is the reading of V; other manuscripts have fuisset adfectus iaff-). Fontaine argues that while fuisset affectus gives a more typical cretic + trochee clausula, the double trochee rhythm of affectus fuisset is perfectly acceptable; it is, but it usually corresponds to cursus velox, which this would not. 23.7 This edition: unum de fratribus Fontaine: unum de fratribus Sabatium nomine The additional phrase is read (with minor orthographic variants) in Pe Pf E F, and omitted in the others. It appears to be unknown to Paulinus of Périgueux, who has simply cuidam, and to Venantius Fortunatus (ex monachis ... unum, 2.253). We have gone with the majority of early witnesses in omitting the name, while acknowledging that this sort of incidental detail might have dropped out of the text when the identity of the monk in question became a point of merely antiquarian interest. It is tempting here to adapt Peebles’ theory of a first and second edition by Severus, with the earlier edition preserving the name, which was then dropped when the edition was recirculated among a wider audience. 25.1 This edition: suscepimus peregrinationem Fontaine: peregrinationem suscepimus The reading suscepimus peregrinationem is found in V B, peregrinationem suscepimus (susci-) in the other manuscripts. Fontaine prefers the molossus + cretic rhythm of peregrinationem suscepimus to the double trochee of peregrinationem. Either seems to us admissible; we have preferred this reading for the characteristic ordering of adjective-verb-noun (gratam ... suscepimus peregrinationem) which it gives. But the evidence is inconclusive.

V ita M a r t i n i

Text and Translation

E p is tu la a d D e s i d e r i u m

The L e t t e r

to D e s id e r iu s

Severus to his most beloved brother Desiderius

5

10

15

20

(1) Severus Desiderio fratri carissimo. Ego quidem, frater unanimis, libellum quem de vita sancti Martini scripseram, scheda sua premere et intra domesticos parietes cohibere decreveram, quia, ut sum natura infirmissimus, iudicia humana vitabam, ne, quod fore arbitror, sermo incultior legentibus displiceret omniumque reprehensionis dignissimus iudicarer, qui materiem disertis merito scriptoribus reservandam impudens occupassem; sed petenti tibi saepius negare non potui, quid enim esset, quod non amori tuo vel cum detrimento mei pudoris impenderem? (2) verumtamen ea tibi fiducia libellum edidi, qua nulli a te prodendum reor, quia id spopondisti, sed vereor ne tu ei ianua sis futurus et emissus semel revocari non queat. (3) quod si acciderit, et ab aliquibus eum legi videris, bona venia id a lectoribus postulabis, ut res potius quam verba perpendant, et aequo animo ferant si aures eorum vitiosus forsitan sermo perculerit, quia regnum dei non in eloquentia sed in fide constat. (4) meminerint etiam salutem saeculo non ab oratoribus, cum utique, si utile fuisset, id quoque dominus praestare potuisset, sed a piscatoribus praedicatam. (5) ego enim, cum primum animum ad scribendum appuli, quia nefas putarem tanti viri latere virtutes, apud me ipse decidi ut soloecismis non erubescerem: quia nec magnam istarum umquam rerum scientiam contigissem et, si quid ex his studiis olim fortasse libassem, totum id desuetudine tanti temporis perdidissem. (6) sed tamen, ne nos maneat tam molesta defensio, suppresso, si tibi videtur, nomine libellus edatur, quod ut fieri valeat, titulum frontis erade, ut muta sit pagina, et, quod sufficit, loquatur materiam, non loquatur auctorem.

For my part, my brother and soul-fellow, I had resolved to keep shut in its binding the little book I had written on the life of Martin, and to confine it within the walls of my house. For, being by nature weak and feeble, I wished to avoid the criticisms of men, lest (as I think likely) my language, being as it is somewhat unpolished, offend my readers, and I be judged worthy of universal censure for having shamelessly claimed as my own a subject which should by rights be reserved for eloquent writers. But your repeated requests I could not refuse. For what is there that I would not expend on your friendship, even at a cost to my own modesty? (2) I have, however, given you this book in the trust that you will not pass it on to anyone else, for this you have promised me. None the less, I am afraid that you will be its door, and that once launched, there will be no recalling it. (3) If this does happen, and if you see it being read by others, youwill kindly beseech my readers to consider its subject rather than its words, and to be patient if my language, ungrammatical as it may be, should grate on their ears; for the Kingdom of God consists not of eloquence but of faith. (4) Let them remember also that salvation was preached to the world not by orators—though surely God could have provided for this also, were it expedient—but rather by fishermen. (5) I myself, when first I put my mind to the task of writing, thinking it wrong that such a great mans works of power should remain hidden, resolved not to blush at any grammatical lapses. I had tever attained any great skill in such matters, and whatever I had, perchance, picked up, I had lost completely through long disuse. (6) So to spare me the trouble of defending my work, let this little book be published anonymously, if you so choose. And, to this end, erase the superscription from the frontispiece, sothe page may be dumb; it is enough that it bespeak its subject, not its author.

Vita Santi Martini Episcopi 1 (1) Plerique mortales, studio et gloriae saeculari inaniter dediti, exinde perennem, ut putabant, memoriam nominis sui quaesierunt, si vitas clarorum virorum stilo illustrassent. (2) Quae res utique non perennem quidem, sed aliquantulum tamen conceptae spei fructum afferebat, quia et suam memoriam, 5 licet in cassum, propagabant, et propositis magnorum virorum exemplis non parva aemulatio legentibus excitabatur. Sed tamen nihil ad beatam illam aeternamque vitam haec eorum cura pertinuit. (3) Quid enim aut ipsis occasura cum saeculo scriptorum suorum gloria profuit? aut quid posteritas emolumenti tulit legendo Hectorem pugnantem aut Socraten philosophantem, cum eos non io solum imitari stultitia sit, sed non acerrime etiam impugnare dementia, quippe qui humanam vitam praesentibus tantum actibus aestimantes, spes suas fabulis, animas sepulcris dederint? (4) Siquidem ad solam hominum memoriam se perpetuandos crediderunt, cum hominis officium sit perennem potius vitam quam perennem memoriam quaerere, non scribendo aut pugnando vel 15 philosophando sed pie sancte religioseque vivendo. (5) Qui quidem error humanus litteris traditus in tantum valuit ut multos plane aemulos vel inanis philosophiae vel stultae illius virtutis invenerit. (6) Unde facturus mihi operae pretium videor, si vitam sanctissimi viri, exemplo aliis mox futuram, perscripsero, quo utique ad veram sapientiam et 20 caelestem militiam divinamque virtutem legentes incitabuntur, in quo ita nostri quoque rationem commodi ducimus, ut non inanem ab hominibus memoriam, sed aeternum a deo praemium exspectemus, quia etsi ipsi non ita viximus ut exemplo aliis esse possimus, dedimus tamen operam, ne is lateret qui esset imitandus. (7) Igitur sancti Martini vitam scribere exordiar, ut se vel 25 ante episcopatum vel in episcopatu gesserit, quamvis nequaquam ad omnia illius potuerim pervenire; adeo ea, in quibus ipse tantum sibi conscius fuit, nesciuntur, quia laudem ab hominibus non requirens, quantum in ipso fuit, omnes virtutes suas latere voluisset. (8) Quamquam etiam ex his quae comperta nobis erant, plura omisimus, quia sufficere credidimus si tantum excellentia 30 notarentur. Simul et legentibus consulendum fuit, ne quod his pareret copia congesta fastidium. (9) Obsecro autem eos qui lecturi sunt, ut fidem dictis adhibeant, neque me quicquam nisi compertum et probatum scripsisse arbitrentur; alioquin tacere quam falsa dicere maluissem.

The Life of St Martin, Bishop 1 (1) Many mortals, vainly bent on the pursuit of worldly glory, have sought to make an everlasting memorial for their name (everlasting, as they thought), if withtheir pen they might signalize the lives of famous men. (2) This practice has indeed yielded some return on their expectations; not an everlasting return, but a little, none the less. They have spread abroad the memory of themselves also, albeit in vain, and by setting out the examples of famous men they have aroused no little emulation among their readers. Yet all their exertions have no bearing on that life which is blessed and eternal. (3) What good did it do even to the heroes themselves to have a fame destined to perish with the world of their biographers? And what benefit has posterity had from reading of Hector’s fighting or Socrates’philosophizing, seeing as it is not only foolishness to imitate Hector or Socrates, but sheer madness not to criticize them in the harshest terms? These are men who committed their hopes to mere rumours, and their souls to tombs, reckoning the value of a human life solely in terms of present actions. (4) They trusted they should live on—but only as long as human memory endures. It is rather the human task to seek not a lasting memorial, but the life that lasts forever; not by writing or by fighting or by philosophizing, but by living a life of devotion to duty, venerable and religious. (5) But this popular fallacy, Passed down in literature, has become so prevalent that it has found many ready rivals both for Socrates’ foolish philosophy and for Hector’s mindless prowess. (6) Therefore it seems to me worthwhile to have given a full account of the life °fa man supremely venerable, which will serve as an example to others hereafter; it will encourage its readers to pursue the true philosophy, the service of Heaven, the power that is of God. And though we hold it proportionable to our interest to seek not an empty memorial among men, but an eternal reward from G°d,yet even if my own life has not been such as would be an example to others, at least I can prevent a man worthy of imitation from going unknown. (7) therefore I make it my purpose to write my Life of St Martin, and to tell how he conducted himself both before and during his episcopate. I do this even though *tis quite impossible for me to cover all his actions. Some are unknown, being a teeret which he kept to himself; needing no praise from men, he would, so far as Was up to him, have had all his works of power go unknown. (8) And even of 'ft°Se that are known to us, we have left many out, thinking it sufficient if only y1®more remarkable ones were recorded. Moreover, it was incumbent on us to ear our readers’interests in mind, and not to glut them with superabundance of fttetter. (9) But this I ask my future readers: that they give credence to my words, jtefi hold that I have written down only what was known and established, teerwise, I would rather have kept silence than written falsehoods.

Sulpicius Severus

Vita Martini

97

2( 1) Igitur Martinus Sabaria Pannoniarum oppido oriundus fuit, sed intra 35 Italiam Ticini altus est, parentibus secundum saeculi dignitatem non infimis, gentilibus tamen. (2) pater eius miles primum, post tribunus militum fuit, ipse, armatam militiam in adulescentia secutus, inter scholares alas sub rege Constantio, deinde sub Iuliano Caesare militavit: non tamen sponte, quia a primis fere annis divinam potius servitutem sacra illustris pueri spiravit 40 infantia. (3) nam cum esset annorum decem, invitis parentibus ad ecclesiam confugit seque catechumenum fieri postulavit. (4) mox mirum in modum totus in dei opere conversus, cum esset annorum duodecim, eremum concupivit, fecissetque votis satis, si aetatis infirmitas non fuisset impedimento, animus tamen aut circa monasteria aut circa ecclesiam semper intentus 45 meditabatur adhuc in aetate puerili, quod postea devotus implevit. (5) sed cum edictum esset a regibus ut veteranorum filii ad militiam scriberentur, prodente patre, qui felicibus eius actibus invidebat, cum esset annorum quindecim, captus et catenatus sacramentis militaribus implicatus est, uno tantum servo comite contentus, cui tamen versa vice dominus 50 serviebat, adeo ut plerumque ei et calciamenta ipse detraheret et ipse detergeret, cibum una caperent, hic tamen saepius ministraret. (6) triennium fere ante baptismum in armis fuit, integer tamen ab his vitiis quibus illud hominum genus implicari solet. (7) multa illius circa commilitones benignitas, mira caritas, patientia vero atque humilitas ultra humanum modum, nam 55 frugalitatem in eo laudari non est necesse, qua ita usus est ut iam illo tempore non miles, sed monachus putaretur, pro quibus rebus ita sibi omnes commilitones devinxerat ut eum miro affectu venerarentur. (8) necdum tamen regeneratus in Christo agebat quendam bonis operibus baptismi candidatum; assistere scilicet laborantibus, opem ferre miseris, alere egentes, vestire nudos, 60 nihil sibi ex militiae stipendiis praeter cotidianum victum reservare, iam tum evangelii non surdus auditor de crastino non cogitabat.

2( 1) So, then: M artin was bred in Sabaria, a town in Pannonia, but raised within Italy, in Pavia. His parents were not of the lowest according to earthly rank, but were pagans. (2) His father was first a soldier, then a military tribune. M artin himself in his youth entered military service in the household cavalry under King Constantius, and then served under the Caesar Julian; but he did so against his wishes, since from almost his earliest years the sacred infancy of this noble child aspired rather for the service of God. (3) For when he was ten years old, he took refuge in a church against his parents’ wishes and sought to become a catechumen. (4) Thereafter he was wholly concerned with the work of God, in a wondrous manner. At the age of twelve he conceived a desire for the desert, and would have fulfilled his wishes had not his tender age prevented him. But while he was still a boy his mind was always bent on meditation either of monasteries or of the church-—a purpose he later fulfilled, when he took his vows. (5) But when the edict went forth from the kings that the children of veteran soldiers should be enrolled in the army, he was betrayed by his father, who was jealous of his blessed acts; and at the age of fifteen he was rounded up, put in chains, and made to take the military oath. He had just one slave as his servant, and he, the master, in turn acted as slave to him, to the point of taking off his shoes and rubbing him down; they would eat together, but more often than not with M artin serving the food. (6) For some two years before his baptism he was in arms, but free from the vices in which men of that sort are so often enmeshed. (7) Great was his kindness towards his comrades, wondrous was his charity, and his patience and humility surpassed all mortal limit. As for his frugality, it were needless to praise that—a quality he showed to such a degree that even then he was thought to be more a monk than a soldier. By these means he induced his comrades to regard him with the greatest respect and affection. (8) Though not yet regenerate in Christ, he was already, by his good works, acting as a candidate for baptism: standing by the afflicted, helping the poor, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, keeping nothing for himself of his soldier s pay besides his daily food. Even at that stage, he was no deaf hearer of the Gospel, and took no thought for the morrow.

3(1) Quodam itaque tempore, cum iam nihil praeter arma et simplicem militiae vestem haberet, media hieme quae solito asperior inhorruerat, adeo ut plerosque vis algoris exstingueret, obvium habet in porta Ambianensium civitatis 65 pauperem nudum, qui cum praetereuntes ut sui misererentur oraret omnesque miserum praeterirent, intellegit vir deo plenus sibi illum, aliis misericordiam non praestantibus, reservari. (2) quid tamen ageret? nihil praeter chlamydem qua indutus erat habebat: iam enim reliqua in opus simile consumpserat, arrepto itaque ferro quo accinctus erat mediam dividit partemque eius pauperi 70 tribuit, reliqua rursus induitur, interea de circumstantibus ridere nonnulli, quia deformis esse truncatus habitu videretur; multi tamen, quibus erat mens sanior,

3(1) On a time, then, when by now Martin had nothing but his weapons and a cloak of single thickness, in the middle of a winter that had set harsher than usual, so much so that many had been killed by the cold, he met at the gate of Amiens a beggar, naked. This poor beggar was asking the passers-by to take pity on him, and all passed him by. Then the hero, full of God, realized that the beggar was reserved for himself, seeing as the others offered no alms. (2) But what was he to do? He had nothing but the cloak with which he was clad, having spent the rest on similar works. So, drawing the sword with which he was girt, he cut the cloak in two and gave half to the beggar, and clothed himself again in what was left. Then some of the passers-by laughed; a sorry sight he looked with his

Sulpicius Severus altius gemere, quod nihil simile fecissent, cum utique plus habentes vestire pauperem sine sua nuditate potuissent. (3) nocte igitur insecuta, cum se sopori dedisset, vidit Christum chlamydis suae qua pauperem texerat parte vestitum. 75 intueri diligentissime dominum vestemque quam dederat iubetur agnoscere, mox ad angelorum circumstantium multitudinem audit Iesum clara voce dicentem: Martinus adhuc catechumenus hic me veste contexit. (4) vere memor dominus dictorum suorum, qui ante praedixerat: quamdiu fecistis uni ex minimis istis, mihi fecistis, se in paupere professus est fuisse vestitum; et ad 80 confirmandum tam boni operis testimonium in eodem se habitu quem pauper acceperat est dignatus ostendere. (5) quo viso vir beatissimus non in gloriam est elatus humanam, sed bonitatem dei in suo opere cognoscens, cum esset annorum duodeviginti ad baptismum convolavit, nec tamen statim militiae renuntiavit, tribuni sui precibus evictus, cui contubernium familiare praestabat: 85 etenim transacto tribunatus sui tempore renuntiaturum se saeculo pollicebatur, qua Martinus exspectatione suspensus per biennium fere posteaquam est baptismum consecutus, solo licet nomine, militavit.

90

95

100

105

4 (1) Interea irruentibus intra Gallias barbaris Iulianus Caesar, coacto in unum exercitu apud Vangionum civitatem, donativum coepit erogare militibus, et, ut est consuetudinis, singuli citabantur, donec ad Martinum ventum est. (2) tum vero opportunum tempus existimans quo peteret missionem—neque enim integrum sibi fore arbitrabatur, si donativum non militaturus acciperet— hactenus, inquit ad Caesarem, militavi tibi: (3) patere ut nunc militem deo. donativum tuum pugnaturus accipiat; Christi ego miles sum: pugnare mihi non licet. (4) tum vero adversus hanc vocem tyrannus infremuit dicens eum metu pugnae, quae postero die erat futura, non religionis gratia detractare militiam. (5) at Martinus intrepidus, immo illato sibi terrore constantior, si hoc, inquit, ignaviae adscribitur, non fidei, crastina die ante aciem inermis adstabo et in nomine domini Iesu, signo crucis, non clipeo protectus aut galea, hostium cuneos penetrabo securus. (6) retrudi ergo in custodiam iubetur, facturus fidem dictis, ut inermis barbaris obiceretur. (7) postero die hostes legatos de pace miserunt, sua omnia seque dedentes, unde quis dubitet hanc vere beati viri fuisse victoriam, cui praestitum sit ne inermis ad proelium mitteretur? (8) et quamvis pius dominus servare militem suum licet inter hostium gladios et tela potuisset, tamen ne vel aliorum mortibus sancti violarentur obtutus, exemit pugnae necessitatem. (9) neque enim aliam pro milite suo Christus debuit praestare victoriam quam ut subactis sine sanguine hostibus nemo moreretur.

Vita Martini

99

clothing thus abridged. Many, however—those of sounder mind—groaned deeplythat they had not themselves done something similar; they had more, and could have clothed the beggar without going naked themselves. (3) So, the following night, when Martin had given himself up to slumber, he saw Christ cladin the half of the cloak with which he had covered the beggar. He was bidden to gaze carefully at the Lord, and to recognize the cloak he had himself given. Then he heard Jesus saying in a clear voice to the multitude of angels that stood about, ‘Martin here, though still a catechumen, covered me with his cloak.’ (4) And, mindful of the words which he had said before (‘in as much as you did this toone of these least, you did it to me’), the Lord professed that it was he who had been clothed in the person of the beggar; and, to confirm his testimony to this goodwork, he deigned to show himself in the same raiment he had received as a beggar, (5) On seeing this, the most blessed hero was not raised up to human boasting but, recognizing the goodness of God in his own work, he flew to baptism, being eighteen years old. Nor did he renounce his military career at once, being persuaded by the entreaties of his tribune, to whom he acted as aide camp; for he promised to renounce the world once his time as tribune was c°tttplete. Kept in suspense with this hope, Martin soldiered on, though that in natoe alone, for some two years after gaining baptism.

J(DMeanwhile, as the barbarians were sweeping into Gaul, the Caesar Julian, gathered his army together at Worms, began to distribute donatives to his soldiers; and, as is customary, each man was called by name, until they arrived at (2) Then Martin, thinking this an opportune moment to ask for his , charge—it would not, he thought, be honest to accept a donative if he had no totontion of fighting—said to the Caesar: ‘Thus far have I served you. (3) Now °Wme to serve God. Let him who means to fight, accept your donative. I am “fists soldier. I may not fight.’ (4) Then at these words the tyrant raged, saying at‘twas out of fear of the battle, which was to take place the next day, and not ^ °f religious scruple, that he was rejecting his military service. (5) But Martin .« arless—indeed, he was all the more resolute for the intimidation brought frk he said» ‘it is to cowardice that this action is ascribed and not to ^ t h e n tomorrow I shall stand unarmed before the front line, and penetrate tanks of the foe without fear, in the name of the Lord Jesus, protected not by tJ. stoeld or helmet, but by the sign of the Cross.’ (6) Then he was ordered to be Under guard, so that he could make good his words and present himself SlJ^ to the barbarians. (7) On the following day the enemy sent legates to 'WT ^6ace’anus,‘bishop’ 6 Pelagius, Pelagianism 6,7,164 Peregrinatio Egeriae 54,59 peregrinus, peregrinatio, peregrinor 3,44, 140,174,254 periodic style 60-1,62,179,234,236 Perpetuus 8,198 Philo of Alexandria 35 Philostratus 31 pilgrim, pilgrimage, see peregrinus, peregrinatio, peregrinor Plato, Platonism 35,40,142,144,165,168, 177,187,212; see also Index Locorum Citatorum pleonasm, see redundancy Plotinus 31 poeticism 46-9 Poitiers 12 Pontius 29,138,144,145,146,161, 164,183; see also Cyprian (of Carthage) and Index Locorum Citatorum

Index Rerum et Nominum Porphryry of Tyre 31 Possidius 190-1,195,173,195; see also Augustine and Index Locorum Citatorum postulo 155 prefaces 139 presbyter 7 n. 13 Primulacium 2-5,9,202 Priscillian, Priscillianism 5,205,236-7 proleptic adjectives 240 pronominal system 53-6 Protoevangelium of James 233 Prudentius, see Index Locorum Citatorum Pythagoras 31 quia 57,212,242 redundancy 52,137,236,241,254 religiosus 176 retained accusative 58 rex 153,156 rhyme 60,80 Rimini, Synod of 179 rusticus 211 Sabaria 14 sacerdos 43-5,51,179,193,196,258 Sallust 31-2,133,140,151-2,160,164,166, 171,199-200; see also Index Locorum Citatorum sanioritas 162,191,195 Sardica, Council of 154,172 Saul 31 scholaris 152,170 secedo, secessus 183 semantic extensions 43-4 Seneca (Elder and Younger), see Index Locorum Citatorum Simeon Stylites 146-7,171,201,230; see also Index Locorum Citatorum under Antonius and Theodorei Sirmium, Synods of 180 Socrates (philosopher) 142,176,188,193 Sondersprache 45-6 sortes biblicae 196 Sozomen 8 Statuta Antiquae Ecclesiae 172 Stoics, Stoicism 37,40,43,144,165,168, 194,197,198,241,245-6,256,258 Suetonius 31,145; see also Index Locorum Citatorum suicide 188

Sulpicius Severus 1-9 and passim; see also Index Locorum Citatorum super 231 supine 57-8,254 synonymy 52; see also redundancy Tacitus 31-2,61,77,133-4,138,140,179, 183,203,243,255 Tetradius 226 Terence 137-8,255; see also Index Locorum Citatorum Tertullian 28,150,165,182; see also Index Locorum Citatorum Theodoret (of Cyrrhus), see Index Locorurn Citatorum Theodosius II 187,247 tonsure 193 Toulouse 5 Tours 11,12,192 trees 213-14 tribunus 152 triduum 157,186,220 triennium 157 Trier 16,29,201,223-4,228-9 tumor 52-3,200,219 turba, turbatio, turbatus, turbo 51, 52, 215, 230,245,258 Typasius, see Passio Typasii in Index Locorum Citatorum typology 32-40 tyrannus, tyrant 23,42,168 unction, see oil Valentinian II 236 variatio, variation 51-4,184-5 Venantius Fortunatus 8,75,87 Virgil passim; see also Index Locorum Citatorum virginity 231-2 vis 160,219 visito 173-4 Vitruvius 136 weeping 216-17,259 word order 75-8 Worms 19-24,165 Zosimus (bishop of Rome), see Index Locorum Citatorum Zosimus (historian), see Index Locorurn Citatorum

Index Locorurn Citatorum (Excluding Biblical Passages) Acts o f the Scillitan Martyrs 8,14 178 Ambrose (of Milan) De Elia et Ieunio 17.62 205 De Noe 29 203 De Mysteriis 6.33 157 Epistula 30.3-7 236 63.2 190 63.27 203 Epistula extra Collectionem 14.66 198 See also Paulinus (of Milan, alias the Deacon) Ammianus Marcellinus 205,221, 241,246, 250,251,197 Res Gestae 14.11.9 246 15.6.6 158 15.11.8 16 15.5.18 250 15.7.8 20 15.8 221 16.2-3 19-23 16.8.4 246 16.12.63 152 17.9.6 19-23 17.1.10-12 19-23 17.11.1 246 20.4.14 191 20.4.17-18 251 20.5.4 197 21.1.7 241 22.2.5 197 22.9.10 246 25.3.6 158 27.8.1 160 Antonius Vita Simeonis 4-5 147 9 201

12 201 20 171

Apostolic Constitutions 2.29-33 171-2 Apuleius De Magia 3.138.26 235 Florida 9.17 161 Aristotle De Partibus Animalium 662M7-22 187 Ethica Nicomachea 1.4.1-3 141-1 1.7.9 142 Rhetoric 3.8 66,209 3.9 60,179,249-50 Arnobius (the Younger) Liber ad Gregoriam 9 259 Athanasius De Synodis 28 180 Syntagma 22 203 Vita Antonii (Life of Antony) Preface 145-6,199 I 146,177 2-10 201

4.1 255 5 30,241,241 5.1 199 6 30 9 227 II 177 11.5 252 13 177 12.3 199 13.5 169 13.7 252 14 201 23.3 150 27.4 199 28.9 215,239 31-3 240 35 177

Index Locorum Citatorum (Excluding Biblical Passages)

Index Locorum Citatorum (Excluding Biblical Passages)

286 40

177

41

177

4 1 .1 49

S e r m o D o lb e a u

10D.2.46 174 Aulus Gellius

251

A t t i c N ig h ts

198

5 1 .1

203

5 3 .2

169

62

3.17.1 (= Cato the Elder t'rg 83) 62 10.3 (= C. Gracchus frg 48) 180 Ausonius

240

5 4 .1

E p is tu la

174

15 226

63

253

64

118

66

240

B asil ( o f C a e s a re a ) E p is tu la

6 8 .1 -2 72

144

E p is tu la C a n o n ic a

7 2 .1

255

8 0 .4

169

8 9 .2

174

9 1 .8 -9

13 149-50 R e g u la ( tr a n s la te d b y R u fi n u s )

146

66.1477 160 Benedict (of Nursia)

Confessions 1 .8

153

3 .3

241

5 .8

204

6 .2

205

8 .6

2 9 ,1 5 2 ,1 8 6 ,2 0 1 ,2 3 2

9 .3

3

9 .7

205

R e g u la P r o lo g u e

D e B e llo G a llic o

203

Contra Faustum 225

De Bono Viduitatis 2 1 .2 6

257

De Civitate Dei 4 .4

175

6 .5 .1 7

142

De Dialectica 6 .1 0

249

De Doctrina Christiana 4 .1 0

70

De Opere Monachorum 3 9 ff

194

Epistula 7 .2 .1 5

246 196

2 3 0 .5 7 .1

225

In Iohannis Evangelium Tractatus 225

Regula 4 .1

162

Sermo 87

137

1 6 4 .1 4

2.25.1 165 6.17 241 7.63.2 198 Caesarius (of Arles) S erm o

53.1 217 54.5 217 207.2.6 259 234.3.12 257

178

A d A ttic u m

1.20.2 198 8.9a. 1 177 1.9.18 227 4.9 182 5.8.5 198 11.1.2 243 15.4.6 198 D e F in ib u s

2.27.86 141-2 2.68 76 3.8.28 141-2 D e L e g ib u s

1.59.402 177 D e N a tu r a D e o r u m

1.1.5 207 1.24.21 141-2 3.80.153 133 D e O r a to r e

2.41.177 51 3.127 161 3.186 250 D e R e P u b lic a

1.46.1 144 In C a tilin a m

2.1.13 133 2.10 251 In V errem

2.4.26 140 2.4.46 218 2.5.158 180 3.21.32 197 O r a to r

192.74 66 P h ilip p ic s P r o F la c c o T u s c u la n a e D is p u ta tio n e s

E x p o s itio S a n c ti P a u li E p is tu la e a d R o m a n o s

15.504 257 Cato (the Elder) 8 251 frg 83 251 Catullus 64.1 51 64.269 250 Celsus D e M e d ic in a

4.16.142 228 5.28.207 228 7.7.279 234

13.1353 218 Cyprian (of Carthage) D e H a b itu V ir g in u m

4 232 D e L a p s is

14ff 204,242 E p is tu la

39.3 204 Demetrius D e E lo c u tio n e

15 250 Eucherius D e L a u d e E rem i

25 175 Euripides H ip p o ly tu s

1437-8 170 Eusebius (of Caesarea) 29,38,139 iso-i 168-9,175,190,195,205,247’ H is to r ia E c c le sia stic a

5.1-4 150 5.1.158 175 5.1.159 132 V ita C o n s ta n tin i

1.3.1 168 1.3.3 139 1.28-32 169 3.10.3 247 3.59ff 190 3.60.7 195 4.23 205 Evagrius (of Antioch) D e O r a tio n e

97 245

2.85 251

3.275-91 238 Cassiodorus

14.194 198 4.8.17 141 5.8.21 141-2 Cicero, Q. Tullius

Festus D e V e r b o r u m S ig n ific a tio n e 6 9 208

Gaudentius (of Brescia) T r a c ta tu s

21 205

C o m m e n t a r i o l u m P e titio n is

11.44 135 1.155 192 Clement (of Alexandria) S t r o m a t e is

2.20 164 C o d e x T h e o d o s ia n u s

7.1.11 156 7.1.14 156 C o n s u l t a t io n e s Z a c c h a e i e t A p o llo n ii

3.7-8 248

287

C o r p u s I n s c r ip tio n u m L a tin a r u m -

A d F a m ilia r e s

C a r m e n a d v e r su s M a rc io n ita s

O r ig in e s f r g

5 5 .2 .3 7

3 2 .2

1 152-3 64 195 33 201-2 40 204 Caesar, Julius

9 .1 2 1 7 6

3 2 .7

Bede D e T e m p o r u m R a tio n e

Augustine

1 0 .3 1

7.39 233 29.1 201

161

Epilogue to anonymous Latin version 2

2.199.18.108 233

179

Cicero, M. Tullius

Gennadius D e V ir is I llu s tr ib u s

21 6-7 Gregory (of Tours) H is to r ia F r a n c o r u m

1.34 14-17 1.43 10-11,14-17 2.14 12-14 6.136 217 10.31.3 198,203

288

Index Locorum Citatorum (Excluding Biblical Passages) 10.31.5 205 10.31.6 192

D e V ir tu tib u s S a n c ti M a r tin i

1.1 138 1.2 225 1.9 253 1.13 161 4.30 185 Gregory (the Great)

Epistula 3.4 182 2 2 .5 4 203 43 .5 4 .1 257 123.1 5 .9 2 125 172 130.6 21 7

Epitaphium Paulae (Epistula 108) 3 .3 - 4 145 13.323 245

D ia lo g u e s

I. 12 217 2.2 241 2.21 240

Regula Monachorum, see P a c h o m iu s Vita Hilarionis 1.2 145 1.4 257 2.5 162 2.8 174 4.1 201 6 .1 - 4 174 13.2 158 18.8 253 2 3 .5 2 4 0

Hilary (of Arles) V ita H o n o r a ti

4.1 146 4.2-5.1 155 (Latin translation by Rufinus of Aquileia) 7.2 168 15.1 228,241 Homer

H is to r ia M o n a c h o r u m

O d yssey

9.502fF 209 10.551-60 231 II. 51-65 231 24.413fF 229 Horace

26.1 62 29.1 221 44.1 221 J o h n C a s s ia n 1 5 5 ,1 5 7 ,2 0 1

Collationes (Conferences) P re fa c e 4 25 6 2 .4 .4 3 2 5 6 2 .1 6 .1 4 157 3 .8 .2 9 2 5 6 1 6 .2 2 .4 5 6 256 6 .1 0 .1 6 3 25 7

A r s P o e tic a

386ff 133 Epistulae I. 18.69-71 136 2.1.156 79

De Institutione Coenobiorum (Institutes) 1.1.1 25 6 2.5.1 201 2 .9 .3 256 4 .3 155

O des

3.3.1-4 168 3.30.1 140 Irenaeus (Latinus) A d v e r s u s H a e re se s

3.12.8 155

L a c ta n tiu s

De Mortibus Persecutorum 4 4 .5 169

Jerome

Divinae Institutiones

C h r o n ic o n

2 .2 .1 9 187 4 .4 .7 2 5 0 5 .2 .1 7 137

242.19 238 C o m m e n t a r i u s in H ie z e c h ie le m

II.

36 8

Liber Pontificalis

C o m m e n t a r i u s in I s a ia m

29 172 33 1 7 2 ,2 3 0

2.5

188

C o m m e n t a r i u s in M ic h a e a m

2.7 188 D e V ir is I llu s tr ib u s

100 181 D ia lo g u s a d v e r s u s L u c ife r u m

19 179

Life of. for items beginning'Life of' see under author name (where known) or under Vita L ivy

Ab Urbe Condita P re fa c e 7 7 ,1 4 3

Index Locorum Citatorum (Excluding Biblical Passages) 1.1 62

I n E p is tu la m P a u li a d R o m a n o s

33.4.8

1.10 222

10.32 211 31.37 211 39.37.17 Lucan 186

168

In L ib r u m Ie su N a v e

24.12 226 140

Ovid A m o res

1.1.1-

B e llu m C iv ile ( P h a r s a lia )

5.97 186 6.239-40 48 6.419ÎF 209 Lucian

1.97 213,2.509 177 M e ta m o r p h o s e s

1.18-20 219 3.1- 100 79 4.94 213 8.340 216 9.211 201 12.41fF 229

30 162 Lucretius D e R e r u m N a tu r a

1,62 201 1.266-8 136 1.712-62 219 2.86 219 2.298 249 6.570ff 215-16 Macrobius

2 51

F a sti

T o x a r is

Pachomius R e g u la M o n a c h o r u m

(translated by Jerome)

14 203 26 162 Pacian (of Barcelona) E p is tu la

S a tu r n a lia

6 200

Marcellus Empiricus De M e d ic a m e n tis 8.1 235 Martin (of Braga)

1.4 175 Palladius (translated by Rufinus of Aquileia) H is to r ia L a u s ia c a

Prologue 1 141 Prologue lOff 203 5.4 136 14 202 4.1 194

D e C o r r e c tio n e R u s tic o r u m

16 215 M a r t y r d o m of: f o r it e m s b e g in n in g ‘M a r t y r d o m o f se e u n d e r a u th o r n a m e (w h e re k n o w n ) o r u n d e r P a ssio

Maximus (of Turin)

P a ssio P o ly c a rp i

1.1 144 14.12 204 17.3 204 P a ssio T y p a s ii

Serm ons

147 2-3 170 Paulinus (of Milan, a lia s Paulinus the Deacon)

106-8 211 Michael Psellus

2

C h r o n o g r a p h ia

4.35

230

D e O p e r a tio n e D a e m o n u m

4.28-9 228 Optatus C o n tr a P a r m e n i a n u m

2.23.2 Origen

193-4

D e P r in c ip iis (P e r i A r c h o n )

1.6.1 242 1.6.3 242 3.6 242 H o m i l i a e in L e v i t i c u m

9.7.432 257

289

V ita A m b r o s ii

6.1 179 6.1-9 190 14 205 Paulinus (of Nola) E p is tu la

5.4ff 1 5.6 158 11 4 11.11-13 2 17.4 10 18.7 167 22.2 194,221

290

Index Locorum Citatorum (Excluding Biblical Passages)

23 2 24 2,7 24.3 3 25 167 25* 167 29.1 221 29.14 3 31.1 2,3 31.6 3 32 205 32.2-3 3 32.7 2 43 132 Paulinus (of Périgueux) 1.128ff 17 1.249 85 2 . 110-11 201

2.578 87 4.218-19 213 5.315-415 198 Petronius

Satyrica 70 254 Plato

Cratylus 399c 187

Gorgias 523a-e 168

Republic 9.571a-576b 168 Pliny (the Elder)

Historia Naturalis 22.103 235 27.41 235 Plutarch 145

Cicero 48.4 22 Pomponius Mela

De Chorographia 1.38.8 214 Pontius

Vita Cypriani 1 138,145-6,155 2 144,161,206 5 190-1 5-6 145 6 258 7-8 183 15-16 168 Possidius

Vita Augustini 4.1 173 8.2 190-1

1 0 .5

195

1 2 .1

174

Jugurtha 2.4 140

1 2 .4 .2 7 .1 2 7 .3

174

174

2 7 .9

174

2 8 .4

195

2 8 .7

195

3 0 .2 1 9 5

Peristephanon 8

3 .1 2 6

1 6 8 ,1 5 7

206

1 3 .3 0

193

Recognitiones Clementinae 5 .7 .3

259

Rhetorica ad Herennium 3 .1 2 .2 2

172

4 .2 6

249

4 .2 7

60

R u fin u s ( o f A q u ile ia )

Apologia 2 .3 3 .1 5

134

See also B asil ( o f C a e s a re a ); Historia Monachorum; P a lla d iu s S a llu s t

1 .2

80

2 .8

140

3

79 214 8 4 .4 50 85 56 8 6 .2 50 92 3 2 ,1 9 9 9 4 56 S e n e c a ( th e E ld e r)

Epistulae Morales 35 .4 198

220

139

3 .1

80

5 .1 -8

236

5 .1

5 7 ,1 6 0

5 .4

77

5 .6

50

6 .5

50

7 .6

80

1 0 .4 14

254

20

171

5 9 .1 6 258 103.3 .4 9 4 142 115.3 198 S iliu s Ita lic u s

Punica 15.70 0 2 1 4 S o c ra te s (S c h o la s tic u s)

Historia Ecclesiastica

140

2 1 .4

63.3 1 5 1 -2 6 4 .4 1 6 4 ,1 6 6 65.5 140

2.4.pr. 11.1 249 S e n e c a ( th e Y o u n g er)

140

2 .1 4

39.2 50 42 .4 140 4 3 .2 50 47.1 140 5 4 .6 140 60 56 57 58 62.1 140

Controversiae

Catiline 1

3 7 9 ,2 5 4 11 56 19 200 25 56 27.5 5 0 ,6 5 3 1 .7 140

P r u d e n tiu s 2 .1 3 7

Index Locorum Citatorum (Excluding Biblical Passages)

5 .1 1 -1 2 236 S u e to n iu s

Augustus

58

61.1 2 5 6 S u lp ic iu s S e v e ru s

1.25 237 1.27 1 3 7 ,2 5 5 -6 2.1 1 0 ,1 9 9 ,2 3 8 2.2 245 2.3 2 2 1 -2 2.4 1 4 5 ,1 9 7 ,1 6 9 2.6 238 2.7 1 5 -1 6 ,1 8 2.13 193 2.1 4 8 3.1 5 3.2 222 3.3 225 3.5 51 3.10 233 3.13 9 - 1 0 3.14 2 0 2 ,2 3 8 3.15 198 3.17 188 3.18 206

Chronica 2 .4 6 -5 1 5 2.4 2 .2 21 2.2 .3 2 181 2 .39 181 2 .45.4 183 2 .4 9 -5 0 236 2 .5 0 .7 237 2 .47.6 259

Epistulae 1 5 - 6 ,1 3 7 ,1 6 1 ,1 6 9 ,1 7 4 2 5 - 6 ,1 6 4 ,1 6 9 ,2 2 2 3 5 - 6 ,1 9 8 4 -7 6

Tacitus

Agricola 1 140 2 203 3 133 13 183

Histories 1.20 1.69 3.60 4.62 Terence

77 222 222 222

2 4 .2

50

2 4 .1

5 5 -6

2 5 .2

62

3 1 .8

80

1.1 1 3 3 ,1 6 3 ,2 1 7 1.2 5

3 2 .1

5 0 ,2 5 4

1.4 2 1 7

Andria prologue

80

1 .6 - 7 2 4 2 - 3 1.7 5

Heauton timoroumenus

3 5 .3 36

69

46

69

Dialogues

1.10 221

5 1 .1 5

140

5 2 .2 9

50

1.16 183 1.18 86

Iff 137-8 620 177 Tertullian

Ad Martyres 3.1 143

291

292

Index Locorum Citatorum (Excluding Biblical Passages) 2.624-31 216 2.646 215-16 3.229 201 3.304 144 3.358 206 4.8 133 4.90 206 4.276 177 4.445-6 213 4.522-3 78 5.443-7 222 6.179ff 214 6.385 206 6.585ff 216 7.37-40 144 8.184-9 210-11 8.322-3 78 8.723 162 9.104 197 9.615 215 9.656 177 10.707 168

A d v e r s u s N a tio n e s

1.12 169 A p o lo g y

5.6 150 12.5 182 16 169 37.18 150 D e B a p tis m o

17.3 258 D e C orona

l.lff 28,162 11.4 150 D e P u d ic itia

21 204 D e O r a tio n e

3.13 163 D e R e s u r r e c tio n e M o r t u o r u m

47.25 165 S c o r p ia c e

147.14 212 Theodoret (of Cyrrhus) H is to r ia R e lig io s a

7 241 V ita S im e o n is

2 146 17 230 Valerius Maximus D ic ta e t F a c ta M e m o r a b ilia

1,38.8 214 Vegetius D e R e M ilita r i

2.7 158 Venantius Fortunatus V ita M a r t i n i

1.174- 6 75 1.192-3 85 2.253 89 Virgil A e n e td

1.5 174 1.7 75 1.152 225 1.310 201 1.544-5 237 1.728-40 238 2.174- 89 229 2.302-3 219,225 2.237 50 2.416-17 219

V ita e t M i r a c u la S a n c ta e T h e c la e 7

228

V ita N ic o la i S io n ita e

16-19 214 Vifo P a c h o m ii

( V ita G r a e c a

P r im a )

2 146 3 146,240 5 157 6-13 147 7 183 8 241 19 241 26 162 28 202 33 155 87 247 Zeno (of Verona) S erm o

2.35.7 157 Zosimus (bishop of Rome) E p is tu la

4.2 10-11,153 Zosimus (historian) H is to r ia N o v a

2.17 153 4.42-3 236

Index Locorum Biblicorum Genesis 2:35 159 3:7 159 3:10 159 3:20 159 4:10 204 22:2 35 22 171 37 171 47:9 174 Exodus 3:16 173 11:1 181,244 20:4 212 20:13 150 25:40 35 32:30 220 Deuteronomy 1:13 242 9:25 245 10:17 188 9:21 220 18:18 37 Joshua 1:18 222 7 218 20-1 154 23:15 245 Judges 6:25-7 217 7 167 13:14 203 Ruth 2:12 154 1Regnorum (ISamuel) 17:38ff 52,169-70 28 205 2Regnorum (2Samuel) 17:1-23 186 18:lff 218 3Regnorum (1Kings) 1:8 33 1:18-40 34

4:18-37 185 17:2 183 17:4 33 17:8ff 34 17:17-21 185 18:17 33-4 19:6 33 19 33 4Regnorum (2Kings) l:2ff 34 1:87 36 2 161 2:12 33,38,241 3:8 33 3:13ff 34 4:8ff 34,134-5 4:39 33 5 34 5:14 229 6:1-7 201 4:10 235 lParalipomenon (1Chronicles) 10:9 212 2Paralipomenon (2Chronicles) 30:9 243 4Esdras 14:11 123 Tobit 1:4-6 155 2:12 141 11:10 217 14:17 242 Judith 4:12 256 7:20 243 12:6 220

Job 16:10 169 40:7 196 Psalms ( P s a lte r iu m 2:10 239 8:3 154,196 10:21 154

iu x ta L X X )

294 19:19 186 22:16-20 259 23:8 188 28:5 214 33:9 253 36:13 195 36:20 252 36:23 225 36:35 214 37:25 196 50:9 157 54:1 133 59:6 259 67:2-3 252 80:9 174 82:14 213 85:5 253 102:6 257 103:15 203 112:7 186-7 115:6 220 116:15 170 117:6 118:133 225 130:1 163 132:1 133 136:7 220 144:15 165 145:7 258 Proverbs 15:18 222 15:23 165 23:31-5 203 Ecclesiastes 6:9 243 8:6 166 Song of Songs 5:10 157 Wisdom of Solomon 6:2 239 7:26 246 Ecclesiasticus (Sirach) 2:13 4:9 257 6:5 222 18:10 243 24:20 252 31:22-32:8 33:5 213 52:1 227

Index Locorum Biblicorum Isaiah 2:3 214 19:14 213 29:18 158 42:18 158 45:9 222 50:6 222 53:9 257 53:12 188 Jeremiah 2:26 196 5:21 220 11:7 174 35:2-8 203 48:26 186 50:15 220 Daniel 9:3 220 6:10 227 Susanna 5 258 Joel 2:13 243 Jonah 3:6 220 Zephaniah 3:3 239 Malachi 4:5 37 1Maccabees 3:27 165 5:68 220 6:7 220 8:14 247 14:61 183 2Maccabees 4:23 168 4:25 42 4:32 165 5:27 183 6:28-31 141 7:25 168 9:10-12 253 13:12 220 14:5 165 15:6 186 Matthew 2:2 48,173

Index Locorum Biblicorum 2:13ff 33,35-6 2:22 183 3:1 33 3:4 33 3:11 156 4:1-11 155,247 4:4-7 214 4:12 183 4:17-19 137 4:20 254 5:6 163 5:9 149 5:14-16 145 5:41 149 6:34 158 7:6 259 7:14 201 7:7 134 8:2-3 33,119 8:5ff 149,192,223,226,227 8:14-15 231 8:27 218 8:50 201 9:12 159 9:18ff 33,185,192,223 10:8 229,230 9:27-31 231 10:10 159 10:18 33 10:21 156 10:23 33,181 10:34 149 10:35 177 11:12 33,161 11:19 203 11:21 33,220,254 12:40 186 13:5 175 14:1ff 33 14:12 183 14:13 33,183,184 14:13-21 223 14:36 230 15:21-8 223 15:29 184 15:29-39 223 17:1 25,223 17:4 227,244 17:9-13 248 17:14-17 226,228 17:20 256 17:21 218,220 19:16 142

19:16-26 254 20:28 156 20:29-34 21:12fF 33,196,202 22:6ff 184 22:16 193 23:11 157 24:24 244,248 25:34 259 25:36-44 158,163,259 26:16 165 26:41 134 26:52 149 26:53 149 26:55 209 27:3-10 188-9 27:27 148 27:29-41 241 27:38 209 27:54 149 27:55 216 27:63-4 251 Mark 1:12-13 245 l:40ff 229 4:2-19 141,254 5:6 224 6:13 225 6:14ff 36 6:19ff 33 5:9 209 6:20 37 6:31-44 223 7:37 158 8:1-10 223 8:15 33 8:27ff 36 9:2 157 9:1 Iff 36-7 9:16-26 226,228 9:24 245 9:34 157 12:17 231 14:61-2 251 16:5 157 16:18 183 Luke 1:20 165 1:3-4 186 1:68-79 173-4 2:1 156 2:12 245

295

296 2:13 143 2:41-51 2:46 157 3:11 159 3:12-14 33,149 3:16 156 4:1-13 247 5:11 244 5:12fF 229 5:28 244 6:20ff 147 7 26 7:Iff 33,223 7:11-17 7:13 231 7:15 225 7:36-50 184 8:2 229 8:30 209 8:40-56 185,192,223 9:9 37 9:28 25 9:37-43 223,228 10:30 174 10:13 220 10:37 162 13:6-9 13:13 187 15:7 231 16:16 149 16:19 159 16:24 135 17:5ff 33 17:12 229-30 18:1-3 135 19:9 217 21:12-19 156 22:15 22:26-7 22:12 234 22:37 188 23:6-12 33 23:28 216,259 23:36 148 23:39-43 176 23:47 149 24:19 188 24:31 177 John 1:14 56 l:19ff 33 1:21 248 1:27 156

Index Locorum Biblkorum 1:45 257 2:13 204 3:15 142 4:25 251 4:45-53 231 4:46-54 223 4:46-50 224 4:47 226 6:2 231 6:54 142 7:1 184 7:6-8 165 8:11 257 8:15 257 9:1-7 231,235 10:7-11 135 10:11--13 240 10:18 213 11:1-44 33,185,223 11:33 169 11:35 216,259 12:lff 184 13:5 ;156,161 13:6 254 13:15 39,141 14:12 230 14:27 149 14:28 180 15:1- 16 141 17:3 142 17:6 204 18:3- 12 148-9 18:11 240 18:40 209 19:2 148 19:23 160 19:37 102 20:19-20 252 20:27 255 20:29 252 20:31 259 21:25 259 Acts 1:3 208 1:8 204 2:32 204 3:15 204 3:7 189 4:13 137,255 4:32--5:11 201 5:40 180 6:4 246 7:44 35

Index Locorum Biblicorum 9:9-12 185 16:36 180 19:11-12 230 19:14ff 172,227 20:10 186 20:19 259 20:22 149 20:31 259 21:25 208 21:30-6 149 23:12-35 149 27:31-42 Romans 1:21 177 2:11 193 2:13 158 6:4 206 6:17 35 6:19 134 6:23 142,165 7:22 256 8:22-6 162 8:35 163 10:9 220 11:14 141 12:12 246 12:17 24 13:11 165 14:10 187 14:11 227 15:6 133 16:25 188 ICorinthians 1:3 178 1:6 35 1:26 152 2:2-3 136 4:6 144 5:28 178 6:1-8 239 7:5 203 7:24 151 7:37-8 232 9:7 144 9:14 173 11:1 144 11:1 40 12:3 220 12:30 223 12:33 141 13:12 35 14:1 141

15:33 255 16:15 173 16:19 215 2Corinthians 1:5-7 208 5:2-4 162,187 5:10 187 6:2 165 6:5 256 7:12 173 8:19 173 8:22 173 9:2 141 10:3 149 10:4 143 11:6 255 11:14 239,247 11:25 180 11:26 174 11:28 173 12:10 188 Galatians 2:6 258 2:10 173 4:13 134 4:18 141 5:19 141 5:22 256 6:17 252 Ephesians 2:2 152 2:21 125 3:20 188 4:14 212 4:22 242 5:1 144 5:19 246 6:10-20 149,239 7:22 256 Philippians 1:1 171 1:27 133 2:2 133 2:10 227 2:11 220

2:20 133,174 3:2 259 3:10 208 3:17 208 3:20 242 4:18 253

297

298 Colossians 1:24 38 1:15 178 2:1 173 2:11 187 2:12 206 3:12 254 4:2 246 IThessalonians 1:6 144 2:1 173 4:4 208 5:1 86 5:8 149 5:15 257 2Thessalonians 1:9 141 2:3 176 2:7 249 1Timothy 1:18 143 2:3-4 149 3:2-6 163 3:8 171 4:3 208 5:23 203 2Timothy 1:4 259 2:4 52,143,157,168 T itu s

1:2 142 1:8 188 2:7 35 2:10-11 142 Hebrews 1:3 178,250

Index Locorum Biblicorum 2:9 208 5:7 259 7:7 174 8:5 25,39 13:2 159 13:6 177 James l:22ff 158 1:6 212

2:1-9 193 5:10 141 5:14 225 1Peter 1:3 178 1:5 259 2:2 154 2:11 208 2:22 257 3:8 133 3:9 257 5:8 176 2Peter 1:17 141 ljohn 2:14 154 2:18 248 Revelation 1:7 252 2:13 204 3:18 163 6:9 207 12:3 247-8 13:1 247 17:6 204,206 19:8 157 22:18 174