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    "slug": "suso",
    "name": "Heinrich Suso"
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  "chapter": {
    "num": 17,
    "slug": "vol-1-16-chapter-xvi",
    "title": "Chapter  XVI.",
    "of": 51,
    "words": 1074,
    "text": "## Chapter  XVI.\n\nOf  the  useful  virtue  called  silence. \nThe  Servitor  had  an  interior  drawing  to \nstrive  after  true  peace  of  heart,  and  it  seemed \nto  him  that  silence  would  be  of  service  towards \nattaining  it.  He  therefore  kept  so  strict  a  guard \nover  his  mouth,  that  for  thirty  years  he  never \nbroke  silence  at  table,  except  once,  when  he  was \nreturning  from  a  chapter  with  many  other  bro- \nthers, and  they  ate  on  board  ship.  On  that  oc- \ncasion he  broke  it.  In  order  to  have  greater \nmastery  over  his  tongue,  and  to  stop  himself \nfrom  giving  way  too  readily  to  talk,  he  made \nchoice  in  his  mind  of  three  masters,  without \nwhose  special  leave  he  resolved  never  to  speak, \nand  these  were  the  holy  patriarchs  St.  Dominic, \nSt.  Arsenius,  and  St.  Bernard.  Whenever  he \nwished  to  speak  he  went  in  thought  from  one \nto  the  other,  and  asked  leave,  saying,  \"Jube, \n\n\nBODILY  MORTIFICATIONS.  57 \n\ndomne,  benedicere\"  (Bid  me,  O  master,  speak) ; \nand  if  it  was  the  right  time  and  place  to  speak, \nhe  received  permission  from  the  first  master; \nand  if  there  was  no  external  reason  to  prevent \nhim  speaking,  he  had  leave  from  the  second ; \nand  if  it  was  not  likely  to  do  him  an  injury  in- \nteriorly, he  considered  that  he  had  leave  from \nall  three;  and  after  that  he  spoke;  but  if  it \nwas  not  so,  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  ought  to \nkeep  silence.  Whenever  he  was  called  to  the \ndoor  of  the  convent  he  applied  himself  to  these \nfour  things:  first,  to  receive  every  one  with \nkindliness;  secondly,  to  despatch  the  matter \nwith  brevity ;  thirdly,  to  send  the  person  away \nconsoled ;  fourthly,  to  go  back  again  free  from \nattachment. \n\n\nChapter  XVH. \n\nOf  the  chastisement  of  his  body. \nHe  was  in  his  youth  of  a  temperament  full \nof  fire  and  life ;  and  when  this  began  to  make \nitself  felt,  and  he  perceived  what  a  heavy  burden \nhe  had  in  himself,  it  was  very  bitter  and  grievous \nto  him ;  and  he  sought,  by  many  devices  and \ngreat  penances,  how  he  might  bring  his  body \n\n\n58  LIFE  OF  BLESSED  HENRY  SUSO. \n\ninto  subjection  to  his  spirit.  He  wore  for  a \nlong  time  a  hair  shirt  and  an  iron  chain,  until \nthe  blood  ran  from  him ;  so  that  he  was  obliged \nto  leave  them  off.  He  secretly  caused  an  under- \ngarment to  be  made  for  him  ;  and  in  the  under- \ngarment he  had  strips  of  leather  fixed,  into  which \na  hundred  and  fifty  brass  nails,  pointed  and \nfiled  sharp,  were  driven,  and  the  points  of  the \nnails  were  always  turned  towards  the  flesh.  He \nhad  this  garment  made  very  tight,  and  so  ar- \nranged as  to  go  round  him  and  fasten  in  front, \nin  order  that  it  might  fit  the  closer  to  his  body, \nand  the  pointed  nails  might  be  driven  into  his \nflesh ;  and  it  was  high  enough  to  reach  upwards \nto  his  navel.  In  this  he  used  to  sleep  at  night. \nNow  in  summer,  when  it  was  hot,  and  he  was \nvery  tired  and  ill  from  his  journeyings,  or  when \nhe  held  the  office  of  lecturer,  he  would  some- \ntimes, as  he  lay  thus  in  bonds,  and  oppressed \nwith  toil,  and  tormented  also  by  noxious  insects, \ncry  aloud,  and  give  way  to  fretfulness,  and  twist \nround  and  round  in  agony,  as  a  worm  does \nwhen  run  through  with  a  pointed  needle.  It \noften  seemed  to  him  as  if  he  were  lying  upon \nan  ant-hill  from  the  torture  caused  by  the  in- \nsects ;  for  if  he  wished  to  sleep,  or  when  he  had \nfallen  asleep,  they  vied  with  each  other  in  biting \n\n\nBODILY  MORTIFICATIONS.  59 \n\nand  sucking  him.  Sometimes  he  would  cry  to \nAlmighty  God  out  of  the  fulness  of  his  heart : — \nAlas !  gentle  God,  what  a  dying  is  this !  When \na  man  is  killed  by  murderers  or  strong  beasts \nof  prey,  it  is  soon  over ;  but  I  lie  dying  here \nunder  the  cruel  insects,  and  yet  cannot  die.  The \nnights  in  winter  were  never  so  long,  nor  was \nthe  summer  so  hot,  as  to  make  him  leave  off  this \nexercise.  On  the  contrary,  in  order  that  he \nmight  get  still  less  rest  amid  these  torments,  he \ndevised  something  further.  He  bound  a  part \nof  his  girdle  round  his  throat,  and  made  out  of \nit  with  skill  two  leather  loops,  into  which  he  put \nhis  hands,  and  then  locked  his  arms  into  them \nwith  two  padlocks,  and  placed  the  keys  on  a \nplank  beside  his  bed,  where  they  remained  until \nhe  rose  for  matins  and  unlocked  himself.  His \narms  were  thus  stretched  upwards,  and  fastened \none  on  each  side  his  throat,  and  he  made  the \nfastenings  so  secure,  that  even  if  his  cell  had \nbeen  on  fire  about  him  he  could  not  have  helped \nhimself.  This  practice  he  continued  until  his \nhands  and  arms  had  become  almost  tremulous \nwith  the  strain,  and  then  he  devised  something \nelse. \n\nHe  had  two  leather  gloves  made  for  him, \nsuch  as  labourers  usually  wear  when  they  gather \n\n\n60  LIFE  OF  BLESSED  HENRY  SUSO. \n\nbriers,  and  he  caused  a  brazier  to  fit  them  all \nover  with  sharp-pointed  brass  tacks,  and  he  used \nto  put  them  on  at  night.  This  he  did  in  order \nthat,  if  he  should  try  while  asleep  to  throw  off \nthe  hair  under-garment,  or  endeavour  in  any \nother  way  to  relieve  himself  from  the  gnawings \nof  the  vile  and  hateful  insects,  the  tacks  might \nthen  stick  into  his  body.  And  so  it  came  to \npass.  If  ever  he  sought  to  help  himself  with \nhis  hands  in  sleep,  he  drove  the  sharp  tacks  into \nhis  breast,  and  tore  himself,  making  horrible \nrents,  as  if  a  bear  had  torn  him  with  its  sharp \nclaws,  so  that  his  flesh  festered  at  the  arms  and \nabout  the  heart.  When  after  many  weeks  the \nwounds  had  healed,  he  tore  himself  again  and \nmade  fresh  wounds.  He  continued  this  tor- \nmenting exercise  for  about  sixteen  years.  At \nthe  end  of  this  time,  when  his  blood  was  now \nchilled,  and  the  fire  of  his  temperament  de- \nstroyed, there  appeared  to  him  in  a  vision  on \nWhit -Sunday  a  messenger  from  heaven,  who \ntold  him  that  God  required  this  of  him  no  longer. \nWhereupon  he  discontinued  it,  and  threw  all \nthese  things  away  into  a  running  stream. \n\n\nTHE  SHARP  CEOSS  UPON  HIS  BACK.  61",
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