The Altar of a Robber

But let me go on to describe other excellent deeds that Martin did as bishop. Not far from the town, very close to the monastery, there was a place that a false human opinion had made sacred, on the supposition that some martyrs had been buried there together; for it was also believed that an altar had been set up there by earlier bishops. But Martin, not inclined to believe uncertain things hastily, often asked those older than himself, whether presbyters or clergy, to make known to him the name of the martyr, or the time when he suffered. He did this, he said, because he had serious doubts on these points, since no settled tradition about them had come down from antiquity.

For a time, then, he kept away from the place. He had no wish to lessen the religious reverence in which it was held, since he was still uncertain; but at the same time he would not lend his authority to the opinion of the crowd, for fear that a mere superstition might gain a firmer footing. Then one day he went out to the place, taking a few brothers with him as companions. Standing above the tomb itself, Martin prayed to the Lord to reveal who the man was, and what his character or merit had been.

Then, turning to his left, he saw standing very near a ghost, squalid and cruel in appearance. Martin ordered him to tell his name and what he had been. At this the ghost gave his name and confessed his guilt. He said that he had been a robber and had been beheaded for his crimes; that he had been honored only through a mistake of the crowd; that he had nothing in common with the martyrs, since glory was their lot, while punishment was exacting its penalty from him. Those standing by heard the speaker’s voice in a wonderful way, but they saw no one. Then Martin made known what he had seen, and ordered the altar that had stood there to be removed. And so he set the people free from the error of that superstition.