s that whensoever I learned of the convening of a
new assemblage of the clergy, I believed that it was done for the
express purpose of my condemnation. Stunned by this fear like one
smitten with a thunderbolt, I daily expected to be dragged before
their councils or assemblies as a heretic or one guilty of impiety.
Though I seem to compare a flea with a lion, or an ant with an
elephant, in very truth my rivals persecuted me no less bitterly
than the heretics of old hounded St. Athanasius. Often, God knows,
I sank so deep in despair that I was ready to leave the world of
Christendom and go forth among the heathen, paying them a
stipulated tribute in order that I might live quietly a Christian
life among the enemies of Christ. It seemed to me that such people
might indeed be kindly disposed toward me, particularly as they
would doubtless suspect me of being no good Christian, imputing my
flight to some crime I had committed, and would therefore believe
that I might perhaps be won over to their form of worship.

CHAPTER XIII

OF THE ABBEY TO WHICH HE WAS CALLED AND OF THE PERSECUTION HE HAD
FROM HIS SONS, THAT IS TO SAY THE MONKS, AND FROM THE LORD OF THE
LAND

While I was thus afflicted with so great perturbation of the
spirit, and when the only way of escape seemed to be for me to seek
refuge with Christ among the enemies of Christ, there came a chance
whereby I thought I could for a while avoid the plottings of my
enemies. But thereby I fell among Christians and monks who were far
more savage than heathens and more evil of life. The thing came
about in this wise. There was in lesser Brittany, in the bishopric
of Vannes, a certain abbey of St. Gildas at Ruits, then mourning
the death of its shepherd. To this abbey the elective choice of the
brethren called me, with the approval of the prince of that land,
and I easily secured permission to accept the post from my own
abbot and brethren. Thus did the hatred of the French drive me
westward, even as that of the Romans drove Jerome toward the East.
Never, God knows, would I have agreed to this thing had it not been
for my longing for any possible means of escape from the sufferings
which I had borne so constantly.

The land was barbarous and its speech was unknown to me; as for the
monks, their vile and untameable way of life was notorious almost
everywhere. The people of the region, too, were uncivilized and
lawless. Thus, like one who in terror of the sword that t