er ceased.[12] During the public calamity, St. Gregory
seemed to have forgot the danger he was in of being exalted to the
pontifical throne; for he feared as much to lose the security of his
poverty as the most avaricious can do to lose their treasures. He had
been informed that his letters to Constantinople had been intercepted;
wherefore, not being able to go out of the gates of Rome, where guards
were placed, he prevailed with certain merchants to carry him off
disguised, and shut up in a wicker basket. Three days he lay concealed
in the woods and caverns, during which time the people of Rome observed
fasts and prayers. Being miraculously discovered,[13] and no longer
able, as he says himself,[14] to resist, after the manifestations of the
divine will, he was taken, brought back to Rome with great acclamations,
and consecrated on the 3d of September, in 590. In this ceremony he was
conducted, according to custom, to the Confession of St. Peter, as his
tomb is called; where he made a profession of his faith, which is still
extant in his works. He sent also to the other patriarchs a synodal
epistle, in which was contained the profession of his faith.[15] In it
he declares, that he received the four general councils as the four
gospels. He received congratulatory letters upon his exaltation; to all
which he returned for answer rather tears than words, in the most
feeling sentiments of profound humility. To Theoctista, the emperor's
sister, he wrote thus:[16] "I have lost the comfort of my calm, and,
appearing to be outwardly exalted, I am inwardly and really fallen.--My
endeavors were to banish corporeal objects from my mind, that I might
spiritually behold heavenly joys. Neither desiring not fearing any thing
in the world, I seemed raised above the earth, but the storm had cast me
on a sudden into alarms and fears: I am come into the depth of the sea,
and the tempest hath drowned me." He adds: "The emperor hath made an ape
to be called a lion; but cannot make him become one." In his letter to
Narses, the patrician, he says:[17] "I am so overcome with grief, that I
am scarce able to speak. My mind is encompassed with darkness. All that
the world thinks agreeable, brings to me trouble and affliction." To St.
Leander he writes: "I remember with tears that I have lost the calm
harbor of my repose, and with many a sigh I look upon the firm land
which I cannot reach. If you love me, assist me with your prayers." He
often invit