This class of men sprang up rapidly, by natural causes,
and yet by a Divine necessity, as soon as the Western
Empire was conquered by the German tribes; and those
two young officers whom we saw turning monks at Treves,
in the time of St. Augustine, may, if they lived to
be old men, have given sage counsel again and again
to fierce German knights and kinglets, who had dispossessed
the rich and effeminate landowners of their estates,
and sold them, their wives, and children, in gangs
by the side of their own slaves. Only the Roman
who had turned monk would probably escape that fearful
ruin; and he would remain behind, while the rest of
his race was enslaved or swept away, as a seed of
Christianity and of civilization, destined to grow
and spread, and bring the wild conquerors in due time
into the kingdom of God.
For the first century or two after the invasion of
the barbarians, the names of the hermits and saints
are almost exclusively Latin. Their biographies
represent them in almost every case as born of noble
Roman parents. As time goes on, German names
appear, and at last entirely supersede the Latin ones;
showing that the conquering race had learned from
the conquered to become hermits and monks like them.
ST. SEVERINUS, THE APOSTLE OF NORICUM
Of all these saintly civilizers, St. Severinus of
Vienna is perhaps the most interesting, and his story
the most historically instructive. {224}
A common time, the middle of the fifth century, the
province of Noricum (Austria, as we should now call
it) was the very highway of invading barbarians, the
centre of the human Maelstrom in which Huns, Alemanni,
Rugi, and a dozen wild tribes more, wrestled up and
down and round the starving and beleaguered towns of
what had once been a happy and fertile province, each
tribe striving to trample the other under foot, and
to march southward over their corpses to plunder what
was still left of the already plundered wealth of Italy
and Rome. The difference of race, in tongue,
and in manners, between the conquered and their conquerors,
was made more painful by difference in creed.
The conquering Germans and Huns were either Arians
or heathens. The conquered race (though probably
of very mixed blood), who called themselves Romans,
because they spoke Latin and lived under the Roman
law, were orthodox Catholics; and the miseries of
religious persecution were too often added to the usual
miseries of invasion.
It was about the year 455-60. Attila, the great
King of the Huns, who called himself—and
who was—“the Scourge of God,”
was just dead. His empire had broken up.
The whole centre of Europe was in a state of anarchy
and war; and the hapless Romans along the Danube were
in the last extremity of terror, not knowing by what
fresh invader their crops would be swept off up to
the very gates of the walled towers which were their
only defence: when there appeared among them,
coming out of the East, a man of God.
Copyrights
The Hermits from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.