(ABOUT A.D. 538.)
[Roman Martyrology, and that of Usuardus, on Feb. 4th; but in the
diocese of Troyes, on Feb. 6th, as a semi-double. Authorities:--A
very ancient life, written in crude style; mention by S. Gregory of
Tours, and in two extant lives of S. Fidolus.]
S. Aventine was much beloved and respected for his singular virtues by
S. Camelian, Bishop of Troyes, who made him steward of the possessions
of the church. He afterwards became the abbot of a monastery at
Troyes, and spent all the money he could collect in redeeming
captives. During the reign of Thierry, son of Clovis, he purchased of
a band of soldiers, who were leading captives past his door, the boy
Fidolus, whom for his gentleness and piety he learned greatly to love;
and treating him as a son rather than as a servant, he made of him a
monk, and finally, when he himself was old, and Fidolus had grown to
man's estate, with the consent of the monks, he delivered over into
his hands the government of the monastery, and he himself retired into
a lone hermitage in the forest, and spent many years in a cave. When
he opened his window, and thrust forth his hand full of crumbs,
multitudes of little birds came fluttering up, and perched on his
fingers, and ate the crumbs. He was ministered to by a monk, who, in
bringing water from the river, sometimes caught in the pitcher very
little fish. The gentle Aventine invariably returned the small fish to
the river, for he would not hurt or destroy any animal, unless it were
necessary. One day he trod on a snake and crushed it, so that it lay
numb, and as though lifeless. Then he bent over it, and cherished it,
till life returned, and it glided away. Once a stag, pursued by
hunters, took refuge in his cave, and he closed the door on it, and
hid it, till the hunters had passed further. One stormy night, a bear
came roaring to the door of the cell, and strove to beat it in. The
hermit, in terror, sang the song, "Thou wilt not leave my soul in
hell, neither wilt Thou suffer Thy holy one to see corruption!" and
armed himself with prayer. Now when the sky grew white with dawn,
Aventine opened his cell, and there lay the bear crouched on the
threshold, and it stretched out its paw to him, and licked his feet.
Then the hermit perceived that there was a splinter of wood in the
paw, and he said, "Poor beast, thou wast in pain, and didst seek
relief, and I thought that thou wast raging for my life." And he took
the paw on his lap, drew forth the piece of wood, bathed and bandaged
the wound, gave the bear his blessing, and let it depart.
Relics in the parish churches of Creney and S. Aventin and in the
cathedral at Troyes. In Art he is represented drawing the splinter
from the bear's paw.