The idea of the scapegoat is closely bound up with, and typifies the substitution of the Christ for sinners and His eternal removal of their transgressions.
In the legends of the saints, also, animals take upon themselves the burden of sins committed and no human beings are more closely related to the brute creation than the holy men, who frequently treated them as though they were brothers. St. Francis of Assisi spoke to birds and animals in the same tone that he used to his friends, and he often went into solitudes and preached to the cattle of the field, the fishes of the sea, the birds of the air, and the beasts of the forest; dumb creatures which listened attentively to the words of wisdom which fell from his lips. One day when he was preaching at Alviano, the swallows were twittering so loudly that he grew annoyed. Breaking off suddenly in his discourse, he said, "My sisters, the swallows, please keep peace while I am preaching." After that they disturbed him no more.
There are many stories in which saints are assisted in their work by animals. St. Gentius made a wolf which had eaten one of his oxen help him with the ploughing. St. Maidoc, having neither ox, horse nor ass, ordered a sea-cow to come from the ocean, which she did and, being harnessed to the plough, she furrowed his fields. When St. Malo settled down near Saintes, the neighbours made him a present of an ass, which was one day killed by a wolf. St. Malo said to the wild beast, "Since you have killed my ass you must serve me instead." The wolf performed his duties admirably for many years without a grumble. A similar story is told about St. Santes of Urbino.
When St. Ronan was accused of being a vampire, Grallo, King of Quimper, horrified to hear of such a monster, set dogs upon him to prove the truth of the statement. As the savage animals rushed towards him the saint raised his right hand, made the sign of the cross, and said, "Stop! in the name of the Lord." The animals became gentle at once and fawned on the saint.
There are legends of the souls of saints being borne away by animals, of the souls of saints taking flight in the shape of birds, of saints changing from one animal form to another, of saints being approached by the devil in the form of animals, and of saints being worshipped in animal shape.
At the moment of the death of St. Vincent Ferrer, the windows of his bedchamber opened of their own accord and a number of winged creatures no larger than butterflies, white in colour and very beautiful, flew into the house. As the saint drew his last breath these winged creatures disappeared suddenly, leaving a delightful perfume behind them. Everyone was convinced that the butterflies were angels who had come to carry away the pure soul of the saint to paradise.
The same saint was said to be able to assume wings, whenever he wished, and, in the form of a bird-angel, to fly through the air in the hope of consoling and comforting anyone who was in trouble and required his assistance.
St. Benedict (A.D. 480-543) was tempted by the devil in the form of a blackbird. The saint had retired to a cavern in Subiaco, about fifty miles west of Rome, and the evil one resolved to do away with a holy man who might prove a great enemy to his kingdom upon earth. Taking the form of a bird, he hovered around the hermit's dwelling-place, sometimes approaching so close that the saint had only to put out his hand to touch the bird. Becoming suspicious of the bird's motives, however, St. Benedict made the sign of the cross and the evil spirit vanished instantly.
St. Peter of Verona was also set upon by the devil, this time in the shape of a horse. The holy man attracted large crowds to his church, and the devil, growing jealous, rushed into the midst of the congregation in the form of a black horse, stamping upon many present and causing a panic of fear among the rest. The saint made the sign of the cross and the phantom vanished in a cloud of smoke.
Sometimes the devil appears to saints in the form of a bull, and can work serious bodily harm, as in the case of St. Catherine of Sweden, daughter of prince Ulpho, who was brought up in the convent of Risburgh. The abbess was at matins one morning and the devil, assuming the form of a bull, tossed the child out of its cradle and left her half-dead in the middle of the floor. The abbess found her in this condition on her return, and the bull, addressing the holy woman, cried, "I should certainly have finished my work if God had permitted it," and then he vanished. The devil, according to tradition, has often been seen in the form of a dog,[28] and some of the saints were annoyed by such phantoms.