The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1918-02-02
THE SORROWS OF ST. ANTHONY

How can Saint be sorrowful?
Should not his sanctity alone be suf-
| ficient to fill him with inexpressible
joy? He can sorrow for the sins of
others, though he himself is sinless.
Anthony no doubt did this again and
again. He can, despite himself and
his works, they both fall SO short of
his ideal; and surely this is sorrow
enough for one soul to suffer. An
| thony screwed in like manner; but
believe this was not his chief sor-
row. The. source of his sorrow lay
elsewhere.
In looking back through the brief
! history of his career, we find that, in
a certain sense, Anthony's life was a
series of sappointments-was, in
fact, one long disappointment from
beginning to end. He did not pride
himself upon his noble blood He
despised the riches that were in store
for him and turned from them with
contempt. He took no pleasure in
the pastimes of his playmates. He
| sought only solitude; for hfs>soul was
ever solitary, and would fain fly away
into the wilderness and there make it's
4 home.
He found a solitude which seemed
suitable in all respects; his spiritual
tranquility was disturbed by the adj
vent of the Friars, who were even
| then far on the royal road to martyr
dom. Then solitude lost its charms;
he also yearned for the baptism of
blood-the blessed pangs, the purify
ing flames, and the martyrs glorious
palm. Yet these were not for him.
| At the very threshold of the arena,
where torture and cruel death await
ed their innocent victims, he was de-
MED admittance and laid low with a
fever that compelled his reluctant re-
treat. Here was sorrow upon sorrow;
for he had been thus rudely awak-
ened from. the loftieSt dream of his
| life.
Again his heart sought retirement,
and like the stricken deer, fled from
the herd in anguish and dismay. The
world be loathed with righteous
] loathing; and to escape from it he
feigned a simplicity of mind that, had
it been genuine, must have untitled
him for almost every walk of life.
Through this innocent ruse he was
once more enabled to taste the sweets
of solitude. There he enriched him
self with those spiritual riches which
he was anon to scatter broadcast
through the world.
Not long could he hide his light
under a bushel, let him try ever so
hard. The breadth and beauty Of his
mind, the loving kindness of his
heart, the splendor of his talents, the
wisdom of his judgment, the depth of
his penetration, the profundity of his
speculations, and the luminous expo
sition of every theme he touched up
on, finally swept him into the very
vortex of political and religious con-
tention
This was the end of all his cher
ished hopes and fond aspirations.
Real solitude he could never again
know, save at long intervals and for
a little moment; and even then he
must have accused himself of leaving
worldly duties unperformed for the
holier and purer joy of silence and
seclusion.
But sorrows crown OF sorrow
awaited him. Finding himself sud
denly called to his reward, with but
Ia few hours between him and the
grave, his one desire was to reach
the city he had chosen for his own,
and the monastery of his brother
Friars, where he had hoped to end
his days. Within sight of the gates
of the city, within sound of the mon
| astery bell, he was stricken down to
death; and for a time it seemed as if
: his dust would not be permitted to lie
within the sanctuary of his adoption
| Therefore, | say that the sorrows
of Anthony were, in certain sense,
continuous and uneeasing - that his
life was one long sorrow He bore
this grievous burden meekly and in
silence, with never murmur of com
plant. We have not learned from his
lips or his pen a single syllable of his
sufferings, mental, spiritual or physi-
cal; but we know full well that he
was man of sorrows.
-. L. Stodd0rd.