As Brother Anthony was a priest, the provincial appointed him to attend the little monastery of Saint Paul on the mountain of the same name. The convent was admirably situated on the summit of the mountain, suspended, so to speak, between earth and heaven, where no earthly sound could reach it. There the ravished soul could hear in silence and peace the great harmonies of nature celebrating the grandeur and the power of the Creator.
This was precisely what Anthony always longed for; a religious gave him a little cell built in the rock, on the side of the mountain. There it was he came, when his duties were fulfilled, to pass days and nights in perpetual meditation, interrupted only by austere practices. He lived on bread and water, and wore under his clothing a hair shirt, sharp and coarse, all of which are still preserved at Padua in a silver frame. His mortifications weakened him so much that he could scarcely stand. But if the body was weak, the soul was strong, being constantly strengthened by prayer, and prepared to combat victoriously against heresy and all the vanities of the world.
Anthony lived thus for a whole year in solitude and contemplation, submissive to the providence of God, which he never questioned for a moment.
The time, however, approached when the pious Anthony should make known the precious gifts he had received from heaven. In the year 1222, the servant of God accompanied the Friars Minor who went to Forli to receive sacred orders. It was the custom, after an ordination, to address some words to the young clerics, who had just been ordained ministers of the Most High.
The bishop of Forli requested the guardian of Mount Saint Paul to discharge this duty, or to entrust it to one of his religious. The eves of the superior fell on Anthony, and it was he who received the command, in the name of holy obedience, to ascend the pulpit and give the customary discourse. Against his feelings he consented, esteeming himself unworthy of such an honor. Yet he must obey; and, having asked the bishop's blessing, he prepared himself to speak. None of his assistants thought that he had studied the Holy Scriptures, or had scarcely read them; they saw him constantly engaged in the kitchen, occupied in cleansing the vessels of the convent rather than plunged in the works of high theology.
He took for his text this passage of the office for Holy Thursday, Christus factus est obediens usque ad mortem. At first his words were calm, without splendor, almost hesitating. Then he became animated, rapid, energetic, and burning. The poor monk, worn out by sufferings and privations, and of wretched appearance, spoke with the authority of an apostle and the eloquence of a prophet. With his powerful voice and superb gestures, he ruled the whole assembly. By his attitude alone he seemed to say, "Listen, children of men, for I am he who speaks in the name of the Lord." In fact, he was heard with religious admiration. The assistants were mute with astonishment and shed tears of happiness. They saw a ray of divine intelligence shining in him, and were penetrated by a profound and holy respect. A new life had now begun for Anthony.
The public reports and the comments of his superiors were not slow in making known to the holy patriarch Francis what had been the success of the first sermon pronounced by the young religious, and also what magnificent hopes were expected from such a beginning. Almost at once he was entrusted with the difficult mission of laboring for the conversion and the salvation of souls. Anthony was then only twenty-seven years old.
From the day on which he began his painful and glorious labor until he ceased to preach, an attentive and pious multitude eagerly thronged to hear his sermons. At first he evangelized the principal cities of Roumania and Lombardy. Success crowned his efforts beyond all hope. Sinners wept and sobbed in the churches where he preached, and the most unexpected conversions were wrought by his labors. His words were like so many darts which pierced the hearts of his hearers. He gave to others of his own fullness: and it was not astonishing that, having kindled in his own soul the fire of divine charity, he enkindled it also in the souls of all who heard him.
The superiority of Anthony's talents responded to a project cherished for three or four years by the seraphic patriarch. He wished to have an official course of theology for the special use of the Order. The venerable founder looked about him, among all his disciples, for a wise and well-balanced mind, uniting solid piety with vast wisdom. He was still seeking when the Superior Gratien presented, in eulogistic terms, the contemplative of Mount Saint Paul as the type of the accomplished director. At once the patriarch of Assisi selected Anthony, and he was too obedient a son to think for an instant of declining the honor offered him, in spite of his extreme modesty. Well did he know that the honor was also a heavy charge. Immediately leaving the grotto of Mount Saint Paul which he loved so well, he hastened to Bologna, there to fulfill the office of preacher. In addition to his preaching he professed theology, at first in France, at Montpelier, then at Bologna, and at Padua, then at Toulouse, and in several other cities of France. Everywhere a multitude of young men, thirsting for science, gathered to hear his lessons; and his fame increased from day to day in spite of the efforts he made to remain unknown, although he did not think of himself but of the souls of his hearers.
The learned abbé of Saint Andrew said of Anthony: "Love often passes the limits in which science dwells; and this is what I have observed in Anthony, the friar minor, with whom I have had friendly relations for a long time; he had not only a very profound knowledge of human science, but by the purity of his soul and the fire of his love he has surpassed the greatest theologians, and we can say of him, as of Saint John the Baptist, he was as a lamp which burns by consuming itself. The fire of his love consumed him, and by the example of his holy life he enlightened the world." Anthony also loved this learned abbe tenderly, and as often as he passed near Piedmont, he never neglected to visit him. At the moment of his death he suddenly appeared to the theologian, who, lost in his books, was suffering from a violent headache. Anthony affectionately embraced him and said: "I have left my work at Padua and am returning to my country." Having relieved the headache, he vanished as a phantom. The abbe, imagining that Anthony was returning to Portugal, searched the convent, and was astonished to find that no one had seen him. Some days afterward everything was explained; he received the news from Padua that Anthony had died, and precisely at the hour when he had appeared to him.
- taken from Saint Anthony, The Saint of the Whole World by Father Thomas F Ward