Lives of the Fathers, Martyrs, and Other Principal Saints — August

The unabridged August volume of Alban Butler’s Lives, from the P. J. Kenedy 1903 reprint of the twelve-volume edition. Public domain.

AUGUST 1 — ST. PETER A.D. VINCULA OR ST. PETER’S CHAINS

From Acts 12. Tillemont, t. 1, p. 185, 536. Orsi,1. 1, n. 37, p. 58. See Jos. Assem. In Cal. Univ ad Jan. t. 6, p. 84, and Monsacrati, Diss, de Catenis S. Petri ad Bend. XIV. 1750.

THE chains and prisons of the saints were the subject of their greatest joy and glory, and the source of the highest graces and crowns. God honored them in the prince of the apostles with wonderful miracles. It has been related in the life of St. James the Great, that Herod Agrippa, king of the Jews, having put to death that apostle in the year 44, in order to gain the affection and applause of his people, by an action still more agreeable to them, caused St. Peter, the prince of the sacred college, to be cast into prison. It was his intention to put him publicly to death after Easter. The whole church at Jerusalem put up its prayers and cries to God, without ceasing, for the deliverance of the chief pastor of his whole flock, and God favorably neard them. The king took all precautions possible to prevent the escape of his prisoner, as he and the other apostles had formerly been miraculously delivered out of prison by an ange1.1 St. Peter himself remained, no doubt, in perfect joy, committing himself with entire confidence and submission to the divine disposal. In this tranquillity of mind, and entire resignation of himself, he lay fast asleep, on the very night before the day intended for his execution, when it pleased God to deliver him out of the hands of his enemies. He was guarded by sixteen soldiers, four of whom always kept sentry in their turns; two in the same dungeon with him, and two at the gate. He was fastened to the ground by two chains, and slept between the two soldiers. In the middle of the night a bright light shone in the prison, and an angel appeared near him, and striking him on the side, awaked him out of his sleep, and bade him instantly arise, gird his coat about him, put on his sandals and his cloak, and follow him. The apostle did so, for the chains had dropped off from his hands. Following his guide, he passed after him through the first and second ward or watch, and through the iron gate which led into the city, which opened to them of its own accord. The angel conducted him through one street; then, suddenly disappearing, left him to seek some asylum. Till then the apostle, in his surprise, doubted whether the whole was not a mere vision; but, upon the angel’s vanishing, he acknowledged his miraculous deliverance, and blessed the author of it. He went directly to the house of Mary the mother of John, surnamed Mark, where several disciples were met together and were sending up their prayers to heaven for his deliverance. As he stood knocking without, a young woman going to the door and perceiving it was his voice, ran in and acquainted the company that Peter was at the door; and when she persisted in the thing, they concluded rather it must be his guardian angel, sent by God upon some extraordinary account: until, being let in, he related to them the whole manner of his miraculous escape; and having enjoined them to give notice thereof to St. James and the rest of the brethren, he withdrew to a place of more retirement and security, carrying, wherever he went, the heavenly blessing and life. The next day, when he was not to be found, Agrippa commanded the keepers to be put to death, as supposing them accessary to St. Peter’s escape. This wonderful deliverance is a proof that though God does sometimes allow the wicked to execute their designs, yet, when it pleases him, he restrains them, and sets bounds to their wickedness, and that he always watches over his faithful servants. We likewise see, by this event, the power and efficacy of public prayer. The Jewish passover that year fell on the 1st of April; but the Greek Menæa commemorates this miracle and St. Peter’s chain on the 16th of January, in memory of the dedication of a church called St. Peter’s Chain, in which one of his chains was kept. The Western church has long kept this festival on the 1st of August, on account of the dedication made on this day of the famous old church of this title in Rome, which has been a place of great devotion.* It gives a title to a cardinal. Mention is made of priests of this church in the fifth century.†

Such was the veneration of the faithful for the relics of the apostles SS. Peter and Paul, deposited at Rome, that the popes themselves durst not presume to touch, separate, or give away part of the precious remains of their bodies. This St. Gregory the Great often testifies in his epistles.2 Pope Hormisdas assures us of the same in his letter to Justinian, nephew to the emperor Justin I., and afterward his successor, who had begged a small particle of them for a church he was building to their honor at Constantinople.3 Both these popes testify that it was the custom for the popes only to put down a linen cloth, called Brandeum, upon the tomb of the apostles, which, being thus blessed, was sent and received with the respect due to a relic; and God often worked miracles by these Brandeums. Justinian was satisfied with such a relic, and with the reasons of respect for the sacred bodies alleged by the pope. His ambassadors at the same time begged and obtained a small portion of St. Peter’s chains, which were kept at Rome with great devotion in the ancient church which is known by that title, at least ever since the fifth century. The popes were accustomed to send the filings of these chains as precious relics, to devout princes, and they were often instruments of miracles. The pope himself rasped off these filings, which he enclosed in a cross or in a golden key, as appears from St. Gregory,4 who says in his letter to king Childebert,5 to whom he sent one of these keys, that many persons, out of devotion, hung such keys about their necks as preservatives from dangers. St. Cæsarius says,6 that the chains with which this apostle was bound in his last imprisonment before his martyrdom, were preserved by the faithful, and honored at Rome in his time. Arator, subdeacon of the church of Rome, who composed a poem on the Acts of the Apostles, in the reign of Justinian, says, that Rome was also enriched with one of the chains with which that apostle was bound by Agrippa at Jerusalem, and from which the angel delivered him. St. Chrysostom affirms the same, and expresses the most earnest desire to have been able to go so far to see and kiss that relic of this great apostle’s glorious sufferings.7 It is said, that Eudocia, the wife of Theodosius the Younger, in 439, brought from Jerusalem two chains with which St. Peter had been bound in that city, and having given one to a church in Constantinople, sent the other to Rome to her daughter Eudoxia, who was married to Valentinian III., and who is said to have built a church on the Esqui line hill, in which it was deposited.8

The iron chains of this apostle have been esteemed as more precious and valuable than gold, says St. Cæsarius.9 Pagan Rome never derived so much honor from the spoils and trophies of a conquered world as Christian Rome receives from the corporeal remains of these two glorious apostles, before which the greatest emperors lay down their diadems, and prostrate themselves, as St. Chrysostom10 and St. Austin11 observe. Among other proofs of the veneration of the primitive Christians towards those sacred pledges, Orsi appeals12 to the images of SS. Peter and Paul, which are found frequently carved in the ancient cemeteries of Rome, and on many sepulehral urns, which many antiquaries have shown to be more ancient than the persecution of Diocletian. Eusebius13 tells us, that he had seen the pictures of these two apostles which had been preserved down to his time. That of St. Paul agrees with the description given of him in the dialogue entitled Philopatris, written about the end of the first century, before Lucian who was born under Trajan, and flourished under Mareus Aurelius.* It also agrees with that extant in the very ancient, though apocryphal acts of St. Theela.14

The 1st day of August is called by us Lammas-day, softened from Loaf-mass; a mass of thanksgiving for the first fruits of the earth, or of the corn,† being anciently celebrated in England on this day.15 It was kept with a solemn procession, and was also called the Guild of August. The solemn blessing of new grapes was performed both among the Greeks and Latins, in some places on the 1st, in others on the 6th day of August, and is expressly mentioned in ancient liturgical books, as cardinal Bona and others take notice.‡

We owe to God, in a special manner, the first fruits of our lives, and of all our actions, in acknowledgment that he is our beginning and last end. Of this tribute he is extremely jealous, as he expressed in the old law by his rigorous precept of the sacrifice of first fruits. A Christian, to acquit himself of this duty, ought to begin every day, and every undertaking, by fervently renewing the consecration of himself and of all his actions to God, with an humble sacrifice of thanksgiving for his benefits, and an earnest petition of the divine blessing and grace to make a good use of the gifts of heaven.

AUGUST 1 — THE SEVEN MACHABEES, BROTHERS, WITH THEIR MOTHER, MM

The seven brothers, called Machabees, are holy Jewish martyrs who suffered death in the persecution of Antiochus Epiphanes, the impious king of Syria. The Jews returned from the Babylonish captivity in the first year of the reign of Cyrus,* and were allowed to form themselves into a republic, to govern themselves by their own laws, and live according to their own religion Their privileges were much extended by Artaxerxes Longimanus; but their liberty was limited and dependent, and they lived in a certain degree of subjection to the Persian kings, and shared the fate of that empire under Alexander the Great, and after his death under the Seleucidæ, kings of Syria. Antiochus III. (the sixth of these kings) was complimented with the surname of The Great, on account of his conquests in Asia Minor, and his reduction of Media and Persia; though these two latter provinces soon after submitted themselves again to the Parthians. But this prince met afterward with great disgraces, especially in his war with the Romans, who curtailed his empire, taking from him all his dominions which lay west of mount Taurus, a good part of which they bestowed on Eumenes.1 He was likewise obliged to give up to them all his armed galleys, and all his elephants, to pay to them for twelve years the annual tribute of one thousand talents (or two hundred and fifty-eight thousand three hundred and thirty-three pounds sterling) and one hundred and forty thousand modii of the best wheat (or thirty-five thousand English bushels), and to send to Rome twenty hostages, of which his son Antiochus was to be one. In Elymais, a province of Persia, between Media and the Persian gulf, which, from the death of Alexander, was governed by its own kings, there stood two famous rich temples, the one of Diana, the other of Jupiter Belus. Antiochus, after his fall, being in extreme want of money, marched to Elymais, and in the night plundered this temple of Belus, but the inhabitants pursued and slew him, and recovered the treasure.2 The Jews had often done important services to this king, and to several of his predecessors, particularly in the reign of his father Seleucus II. When a numerous army of Gauls or Galatians had invaded Babylonia, and the Syrians and Macedonians had not courage to meet them in the field, six thousand Jews boldly attacked, and, by the divine assistance, defeated and repulsed them, having slain a hundred and twenty thousand of them.3

Seleucus III., eldest son of Antiochus, succeeded him in the throne, and continued for some time to favor the Jews as his father had done. The Jews were then in such high esteem, that sovereign princes courted their friendship, and made magnificent presents to the temple; and Seleucus furnished out of his own treasury all the expenses of it. Judæa enjoyed a profound peace; and their laws were observed with a religious strictness under their worthy high-priest Onias III.4 until a misunderstanding which happened between him and Simon, a powerful man of the tribe of Benjamin, and governor of the temple, brought a series of evils on the whole nation. This contest grew to such a height, that Simon, finding he could not carry his iniquitous design into execution, or get the better of the zealous high-priest, who had then held that dignity about sixteen years, went away to Apollonius, governor of Cœlosyria and Palestine under Seleucus, and acquainted him that there were immense treasures deposited in the temple of Jerusalem, which might be seized upon for the king’s use. The governor sent to inform Seleucus of the matter, who, being in distress for money to pay the Roman tribute, was taken with the bait, and despatched Heliodorus to fetch the treasure away to Antioch.

When this officer was arrived at Jerusalem, and had disclosed his commission to the high-priest, the pontiff made the strongest remonstrances against the sacrilegious attempt, urging that the sacred treasure consisted of things consecrated to God, or the deposits of orphans and widows. Heliodorus, still intent upon executing the king’s orders, entered the place with a body of armed men; and, as he was about to seize upon the treasure, there appeared a man on horseback in shining armor, who flew upon him with the utmost fury, and whose horse struck him with his fore feet. There were seen at the same time two other young men, strong, beautiful, and glorious; who, standing by him, one on each side, scourged him severely. Heliodorus fell down to the ground half-dead; and all that presumed to accompany him were struck with fear and trembling. Being carried out in a litter almost dead, he continued in this condition till some of his friends entreated Onias to call upon God to grant him his life; who having offered a sacrifice for the man’s recovery, he was restored to health. He thereupon went back to Antioch, and made a faithful relation to the king of all that had befallen him; adding that, if he had any enemy whom he desired to get rid of, he needed but send him to rifle that sacred place, and he would see him come back in such a condition as would convince him that the Jewish temple was under the protection of some divine and irresistible power.5 Heaven did not long defer punishing this king for his sacrilegious attempt, by that very hand which he had employed in it. Seleucus had agreed with the Romans to send his own son Demetrius, then ten years old, to remain an hostage at Rome in the place of his brother Antiochus, who should be allowed to return to Syria. During the absence of the two heirs to the crown, Heliodorus cut off Seleucus by poison, and placed himself on the throne. Antiochus, who was then at Athens on his return, obtained by great promises the assistance of Eumenes, king of Pergamus, and of Attalus, that king’s brother, who led him into Syria with a powerful army, and driving out the usurper, left him in quiet possession of the kingdom. Antiochus took the title of Epiphanes, or The Illustrious, though by the whole series of his life he better deserved that of Vile or Despicable, which was given him long before his birth by the prophet Danie1,6 and which is confirmed by Polybius and Philarchus, his contemporaries, quoted by Athenæus. Livy and Diodorus Siculus say, that he would frequently ramble about the streets of Antioch with two or three lewd companions, drink and carouse with the dregs of the people, and intrude himself into the parties of the vilest rakes, and be their ringleader in wanton frolics, public lewdness, and a thousand ridiculous follies, without any regard to virtue, law, decency, or his royal character: above all other vices, he was addicted to drunkenness and lust, and most profuse and extravagant in squandering away his revenues; on which see Guyon, Hist. des Emp. t. 7, p. 218. Upon the death of Ptolemy Epiphanes in Egypt, and his widow Cleopatra, a war was lighted up between the Syrians and the two Ptolemies, the elder brother surnamed Philometor, and the younger Physcon or Big-bellied, who reigned sometimes jointly, and sometimes the one, sometimes the other alone, as their parties prevailed; though the latter survived, and was the most profligate and barbarous tyrant that ever reigned in Egypt.

Joshua or Jesus, the wicked brother of Onias the good high-priest, blinded by ambition, changed his name into that of Jason, which he thought more conformable and pleasing to the Greeks, and repairing to Antiochus Epiphanes as soon as he was settled on the throne, for the price of four hundred and forty talents of silver, procured from him the high-priesthood, and an order that Onias should not only be deposed, but sent to Antioch, and confined to dwell there. Jason, apostatizing in many articles from the Jewish religion, gave Antiochus another sum of a hundred and fifty talents of silver for the liberty of erecting at Jerusalem a gymnasium, or place of public exercises, such as were practised in Greece, with an academy for training up of youth in the fashion and manners of the heathens; and for the liberty of making such as he thought fit free of the city of Antioch. By this bait he drew many Into his apostasy, whom commerce with the heathens, and vanity of interest had already disposed to prefer worldly advantages to those which are to come. Jason had not enjoyed his ill-gotten dignity three years when another Jew, brother of the treacherous Simon above-mentioned,7 changed his name Onias into that of Menelaus, bought the high-priesthood of Antiochus for three hundred talents more, and outdid Jason in his apostasy, endeavoring to engage the Jews to forsake their religion, and wholly to conform to that of the heathens. He procured Onias, the true high-priest, to be put to death at Antioch.

Dreadful signs in the heavens prognosticated the evils that were to befall the city of Jerusalem.8 They were begun by the seditions raised by Jason and Menelaus. Upon a false report that Antiochus was slain in the Egyptian war, Jason came out of the land of the Ammonites, and at the head of a thousand men possessed himself of the city and temple of Jerusalem. But he was obliged to retire upon the approach of Antiochus, who led his army from Egypt to Jerusalem; and, in the space of three days, killed in that city four score thousand Jews, sold forty thousand to neighboring nations for slaves,9 and made as many more prisoners. His fury did not stop here. He caused the traitor Menelaus, who had recovered his good graces, to lead him into the most holy recesses of the temple, and he laid his impious hands upon all that was most sacred. He seized the golden altar of incense, the golden table of the shewbread, the golden candlestick, the censers, vessels, and other holy utensils, and the crowns, golden shields, and other ornaments which had been dedicated to the temple, besides one thousand eight hundred talents of gold and silver, which he forcibly took out of the treasury. He took away the gold plating that covered the gates, the veil of the innermost sanctuary, and all that was valuable, whether for its metal or workmanship. After this, leaving Philip, a most brutish Phrygian, governor of Judæa, and the impious Menelaus in possession of the high priesthood, he returned to Antioch in triumph, “thinking through pride, that he might now make the land navigable, and the sea passable on foot; such was the haughtiness of his mind.”10 He thence set out at the head of a numerous army on another expedition into Egypt, having nothing less in view than the entire conquest of that rich kingdom. He reduced the country as far as Memphis, and there received the submission of most of the other cities and provinces. Thence he marched towards Alexandria, but at Eleusina, a village but four miles from that city, was met by Caius Popilius Lænas, Caius Decimius, and Caius Hostilius, three ambassadors sent by the Roman senate, with an order that he should suspend all hostilities, and put an end to the war; which, if he refused to do, the Roman people would no longer look upon him as their friend and ally. Popilius delivered to him this decree at the head of his army; and when the king desired leave to advise with his council about an answer, the ambassador drew a circle round him in the sand with the staff he held in his hand, and raising his voice, said, “You shall not go out of this circle, till you either accept or reject the proposal which is made you.” Hereupon the king answered, “I will do what your republic requires of me.”11

Antiochus, exceedingly mortified at this check, led back his army, but being resolved to vent his rage upon the Jews, in his return detached Apollonius with twenty-two thousand men to plunder Jerusalem. Apollonius came to that city dissembling his design under an outward show of a peaceable intention. But on the next sabbath-day, when all things were in proround quiet, he commanded his soldiers to go through the streets, and massacre all persons they should meet; which they did without the least resistance from the Jews, who suffered themselves to be butchered for fear of violating he sabbath. About ten thousand persons who escaped the slaughter were carried away captives; and some others fled. Apollonius then ordered the city to be plundered, and afterward set on fire. The walls were demolished, the service of the temple quite abandoned, and the holy place everywhere polluted. The temple itself was dedicated to Jupiter Olympius, and his statue was erected on the altar of burnt-offerings, which was foretold by Danie1.12 Sacrifices were begun to be offered to this abominable idol on the king’s birth-day, which was the 25th day of the month Casleu, which answers to part of our November and December.13

About the same time the temple of the Samaritans on mount Garizim was dedicated to Jupiter Hospitalis, or the Protector of Strangers; which implied that the Samaritans were not originally natives of that country, but a colony of strangers settled there. These latter strove to prevent the king’s orders; so ready were they to offer sacrifice to their abominable idol. Many also among the Jews, who professed the true religion, apostatized under this persecution; but others courageously sealed their fidelity to the law of God with their blood. Altars and statues were set up in every town of Judæa, and groves were in every part consecrated to idolatrous mysteries; and the Jews were compelled, under pain of death, to offer sacrifice to idols; so that the whole land became a scene of idolatry, debaucheries, and the most horrid butcheries. It was made immediate death to be caught observing the sabbath, the rite of circumcision, or any other part of the Mosaic law. Two women having been discovered to have circumcised their children, were led, with their infants hung about their necks, through the streets of Jerusalem, and at length thrown headlong from the walls. Great multitudes fled into the deserts, and hid themselves among craggy rocks in holes and caverns. Philip the governor, being informed that a considerable number of Jews were assembled in caves to keep the sabbath, marched against them with a sufficient force; and, after having in vain offered them a general amnesty if they would forsake their religion, caused them all, men, women, and children, to be burnt. The persecutors committed to the flames the books of the law of God, and put to death every one with whom those books were found, and whoever observed the law of the Lord; but many determined that they would not eat unclean things, and chose rather to die than to be defiled with forbidden meats, or to break the holy law of God.14

Among the glorious martyrs who preferred torments and death to the least violation of the divine law, one of the most eminent was Eleazar. He was one of the chief among the scribes or expounders of the law, a man ninety years old; and, notwithstanding his great age, of a comely aspect. His countenance, breathing a mixture of majesty and sweetness, inspired all who approached him with veneration for his person, and confidence in his virtue. The persecutors flattered themselves that they should gain all the rest, if they could succeed in perverting this holy man, whose example held many others steadfast. Him, therefore, they brought upon the butchering stage; and as it was their design not so much to torment as to seduce him, they employed successively threats and promises. Finding these weapons too feeble against so stout a soldier, they had recourse to a most ridiculous act of violence, opening his month by force that they might at least thrust into it some swine’s flesh; not considering that an action in which the heart has no share, can never be construed a criminal transgression of the law; but this free consent was what they could never extort from the martyr. To purchase life by such an infidelity he justly regarded as the basest infamy and crime; and, out of a holy eagerness rather to suffer the most dreadful torments and death he courageously walked of his own accord towards the place of execution. Certain Gentiles or apostates who were his friends, being moved with a false and wicked pity, taking him aside, desired that flesh might be brought which it was lawful for him to eat, that the people might believe that he had eaten swine’s flesh, and the king be satisfied by such a pretended obedience; but the holy old man rejected with horror the impious suggestion, and answered, that by such a dissimulation the young men would be tempted to transgress the law, thinking that Eleazar, at the age of fourscore and ten years, had gone over to the rites of the heathens; adding, that if he should be guilty of such a crime, he could not escape the hand of the Almighty, either alive or dead. Having spoken thus, he was forthwith carried to execution; and they that led him were, by his resolute answer, exceedingly exasperated against him. When he was ready to expire under the stripes, he groaned, and said, “O Lord, whose holy light pierces the most secret recesses of our hearts, thou seest the miseries I endure; but my soul feeleth a real joy in suffering these things for the sake of thy law, because I fear thee.” With these words the holy man gave up the ghost, leaving, by his death, an example of noble courage, and a memorial of virtue to his whole nation.

The glorious conflict of this venerable old man was followed by the martyrdom of seven brothers, who suffered, one after another, the most exquisite torments with invincible courage and constancy; whilst their heroic mother, divested of all the weakness of her sex, stood by, encouraging and strengthening them, in the Hebrew tongue, and last of all died herself with the same cheerfulness and intrepidity. Their victory was the more glorious because they triumphed over the king in person, who seems to have taken a journey to Jerusalem on purpose to endeavor, by the weight of his authority, and by the most barbarous inventions of cruelty, to overcome the inflexible constancy of men who were proof against all the artifices and most barbarous racks of his ministers. Some moderns think they rather suffered at Antioch than at Jerusalem:15 but this latter city seems the theatre of this as well as of the other transactions related by the sacred writer.16 By an order of Antiochus, these seven brothers were apprehended with their mother, and tormented with whips and scourges in order to compel them to eat swine’s flesh, against their divine law. The eldest said to the tyrant, “We are ready to die rather than to transgress the laws of God.” The king being provoked at this resolute answer, commanded the frying-pans and brazen caldrons to be made hot; then the tongue of him that had spoken thus to be cut out, and the skin of his head to be drawn off, and afterward the extremities of his hands and feet to be chopped off, his mother and the rest of his brothers looking on. When he was maimed in all his parts, the tyrant commanded him, yet alive, to be brought to the fire, and to be fried in a pan. While he was suffering therein a long time, the other brothers and the mother exhorted one another to die manfully, because God, who is glorified by the fidelity of his servants, takes pleasure in beholding them suffering for his truth. The first having thus ended his painful life, the guards advanced with his second brother. The executioner having flayed off all the hair and skin of his beard, face, and head, inquired whether he would eat of the meats the king commanded, before they proceeded any farther, and tormented him. Finding by his answer that ne was in the same noble resolution with his brother, they inflicted on him the same torments. When he was at the last gasp, he said to the king, with a courage and strength which God alone can inspire in those moments, “You indeed destroy our mortal life; but the king of the world, for whose laws we suffer, will raise us up in the resurrection of eternal life.” After him the third was made a laughing-stock; and when he was commanded he quickly put forth his tongue, and courageously stretched out his hands, saying with confidence, “These have I received from heaven, and with pleasure resign them, to bear testimony to the laws of God; and I trust that I shall one day receive them again from the omnipotent hand of Him that gave them.” The king and his courtiers stood amazed at his courage, not understanding by what means religion could inspire such an excess of greatness of soul, by which a tender youth despised, in such an age, the most frightful torments; but the tyrant seeing his power set at naught and foiled, grew more enraged than ever, and after this martyr was dead, without giving himself time to breathe, or to put any questions to the fourth, he commanded him to be flayed, his hands and feet maimed, and his body at length thrown into the burning pan; but he, looking upon the king, said, “Death is our advantage, who meet it with an assured hope in God that he will raise us up again. As for thee, thou wilt have no share in the resurrection to eternal life.” No sooner had his brother finished his course, but the fifth was brought forth to be butchered after the like manner, unless he chose to accept of the conditions of escape; but the executioners finding him resolute, they inflicted on him the same torments with those already mentioned. Being near his end, he told the king, that he ought not to imagine God had entirely forsaken his people, and that he had reason to tremble for himself, for he should very soon find himself and his family overtaken by the divine vengeance. When he was dead, the sixth youth was presently brought forward, and being put into the hands of the bloody executioners, on his refusal to comply with the king’s orders, they immediately fell to work, cutting, slashing, and burning him without being able to shake his constancy. Addressing himself also to the barbarous king in his latter moments, he said, “Deceive not thyself; for though we suffer these things because we have offended God, do not flatter thyself that thou wilt escape unpunished: who hast attempted to fight against God.”

The admirable mother, animated by a lively faith, saw her seven sons slain, one after another, by the most barbarous torments, in the space of one day. Filled with a heavenly wisdom, and more than heroic courage, she overcame the weakness of her sex, and giving nothing to nature, did not let drop one dangerous tear, which might have discouraged her children; all this time she thought of nothing but of securing their victory, to which she animated them by the strongest and most inflamed exhortations. She bravely encouraged every one of them in her own language. “I know not how you were formed in my womb,” said she to them, “you received not a soul or life from me; nor did I frame your limbs. It is God, the Creator of the world, who gave you all this; it is easy to him to repair his own work, and he will again restore to you, in his mercy, that breath and life which you now despise for the sake of his laws.” The tyrant all this while was intent only on the affront which he thought put upon him by the courageous martyrs, who seemed to outbrave his power, to which he desired to make everything bend; and his mind was wholly taken up in carrying his impotent revenge to the utmost extremities; but his rage was turned into despair when he saw himself already so often vanquished, and that of these heroic brothers there now remained only one tender child alive. He earnestly desired at least to overcome him, and for this purpose he had recourse to that feigned compassion which tyrants often make so dangerous a use of, and by a thousand engaging caresses endeavored to seduce him. He called himself his master, his king, and his father; and promised him upon his oath, if he would comply with his desire and turn to his religion, he would make him rich, happy, and powerful; would treat him as his friend, and always rank him among his principal favorites; in a word, that his obedience should be recompensed beyond his utmost desires.

The youth not being yet moved, the king addressed himself also to the mother with a seeming compassion for her loss, and entreated her to prevail upon her only surviving child; in pity to herself at least, to spare this small remnant of the family, and not to give her the affliction of having her whole offspring torn away from her at once. She joyfully undertook to give him counsel, but of a very different kind from that intended by the king; for, bearing towards her son, and leaning to his ear, she said in her own language. “My dear child, now my only one, have pity on me thy mother, who bore thee nine months in my womb, and gave thee suck three years, and nourished thee, and brought thee up unto this age. Afflict me not by any base infidelity and cowardice. Look up to the heavens, behold the earth, and the vast variety of creatures in both; and consider, I conjure thee, my son, that God made them all out of nothing, by his almighty power. This is the God whom thou adorest. Have him before thy eyes, and thou wilt not fear this bloody executioner. Show thyself worthy of thy brothers, and receive death with constancy; that I may have the comfort to see you all joined in martyrdom, and meet you in the place of eternal mercy and repose.” The young martyr had scarce patience to hear his mother finish these words, but desiring ardently to complete his sacrifice, and to follow his brothers, cried out to his executioners, “For whom do you wait? I do not obey the command of the king, but the precept of the divine law.” Then addressing himself to the king, he said, “You, who glory in the invention of so much malice and evil against the Hebrews, shall not escape the hand of God. We suffer thus for our sins, yet God will be again reconciled to his servants. My brothers having now undergone a short pain, are under the covenant of eternal life. Like them, I offer up my life and my body for the holy laws of our fathers, begging God to be speedily merciful to our people. In me and in my brothers the wrath of the Almighty, which has been justly brought upon our nation, shall cease.” The king hearing him speak to this purpose, was no longer master of himself; but, condemning himself for having had this little spark of patience, resolved to wreak his vengeance on this tender child with greater excess and cruelty than he had done on all his brothers. This last, therefore, stood the utmost shock of the rage of the executioners, and exhausted both their invention and their strength. Persevering, faithful to his last breath, he deserved to receive the most glorious crown. The mother standing now alone amidst the mangled limbs of her seven sons, triumphed with joy, and embraced their dead bodies with greater tenderness than she had ever embraced them living. She sighed to arrive herself at the like crown of martyrdom, and prayed that God would give her a share in the glory of her sons, to survive whom one day would have been her grief. Antiochus, always the same tyrant, ashamed to yield, and incapable of relenting or forgiving, gave orders that the mother should likewise be tormented, and put to death. She, therefore, was cut off last of all. These martyrs suffered in the year of the world 3837, of the æra of the Seleucidæ 145, before Christ 164.

Antiochus, covered with confusion and shame to see himself vanquished by a weak woman and her children, retired; giving everywhere the strictest orders for the extirpation of the Jewish religion; but God turned his rage and vain projects to his own disgrace and ruin, and raised his people again to a flourishing condition. This was effected by the glorious achievements chiefly of the sons of Mattathias, who, when the temple was profaned, had left Jerusalem, and retired into the mountains near Modin, his native place. He was an eminent priest, of the family of Joarib, which was the first of the twenty-four classes appointed by David to officiate in the temple.17 He was descended from Aaron by his eldest son and successor Eleazar, and was the son of John, the son of Simon, the son of Asmoneus, from whom the princes of this family, that afterward reigned in Judæa, were called Asmoneans. Mattathias was then very old, and had with him his five sons, John surnamed Gaddis, Simon surnamed Thasi, Judas called Machabeus, Eleazar, and Jonathan. When the officers of king Antiochus arrived at Modin, to compel all the Jews to forsake the true religion, he went to the town; and to encourage others to remain steadfast, declared to those officers that he would continue faithful to God, and, imitating the zeal of Phineas, he slew an apostate who was going to offer sacrifice to an idol. After which he fled into the wilderness, and was followed by others. Dying soon after, in the hundred and sixty-sixth year before Christ, he appointed Judas Machabeus genera1.18

This valiant captain, with six thousand men, defeated and slew Apollonius, the governor of Samaria, and a great persecutor of the Jews, who had marched against him with a numerous army. Seron, deputy-governor of Cœlosyria, under Ptolemy Macron the chief governor, advanced with a fresh body of forces, but was overthrown and killed. Philip the Phrygian, governor of Jerusalem, sent to Antioch for succor. Antiochus being absent beyond the Euphrates, Lysias, whom he had left regent, despatched forty thousand foot to Ptolemy Macron, governor of Cœlosyria and Phœnicia, with Nicanor and Gorgias, two experienced commanders; but Judas discomfited Nicanor, burned Gorgias’s camp, and when Timotheus, governor of the country beyond the Jordan, with Bacchides, another famous general, came up, he met and overthrew them in a set battle, killing twenty thousand of their men. Upon this news Lysias, the regent, came in person into Judæa with sixty thousand foot and five thousand horse. Judas, by the divine assistance, gave him an entire overthrow, and obliged him to fly to Antioch. After the retreat of the enemy, Judas purified the temple, celebrated the dedication during eight days, and restored the sacrifices to the true God. This dedication* was performed on the twenty-fifth of the month Casleu, in the hundred and sixtieth year before Christ, the second of Judas’s government, on the very day on which the temple had been polluted by the abomination of desolation, or the statue of Jupiter Olympius set up in it three years before. Judas prospered exceedingly, and performed exploits of valor against three Syrian kings and other enemies of the people of God, far more wonderful, and more glorious than those of the most famous heroes recorded in profane history. He was no less eminent for virtue and religion. He died in battle with great honor in the hundred and fifty-seventh year before Christ, having been general six years, and executed the office of high-priest three years, as Josephus says.

Menelaus the apostate high-priest having been condemned to death by the young king Antiochus IV. or Eupator, son of Epiphanes, and smothered in ashes, Alcimas, an apostate of the race of Aaron, obtained of king Demetrius Soter (who, by the murder of Antiochus Eupator and his regent Lysias, had stepped into the throne) the title of high-priest, and fought against Judas, and his religion and country. Onias, son of Onias III., to whom the high-priesthood belonged, upon the intrusion of Alcimus, retired to Alexandria, and with leave of Ptolemy Philometor built a temple at Heliopolis in Egypt, for the Hellenistical Jews in the year 169 before Christ. Alcimus being struck with a palsy, and carried off by a miserable death, Jonathan the worthy brother of Judas Machabeus, who after his death had been chosen general of the people of God, was appointed lawful high-priest in the hundred and fifty-third year before Christ, and was succeeded in both those dignities by his virtuous and valiant brother Simon. The posterity of this last enjoyed the same, and are called the Asmonean princes. His son and immediate successor, John Hircanus, discharged the functions of that double office with virtue, wisdom and valor; and added to his dominions Idumæa, Samaria, and Galilee. His sons Aristobulus (during a short reign of one year) and Alexander Jannæus, about one hundred and seven years before Christ, assumed the regal diadem and title, but degenerated from the virtue of their ancestors; and from their time pride, hypocrisy, and luxury, began to overrun the Jewish state and nation, and to pave the way to the most grievous of all crimes, the crucifixion of the Son of God, by which that ungrateful people completed the measure of their iniquities.

The servants of God equally triumphed, whether by a glorious death or by temporal victories in the cause of virtue.* Infinitely different was the miserable conflict which the persecutor sustained with himself in the terrible agonies of his unhappy death. Antiochus being much distressed for money, his treasury being always drained by his perpetual follies and extravagant expenses, he marched with fifty thousand men beyond the Euphrates in quest of spoils; but, attempting to plunder a rich temple in Persepolis, and afterward another at Elymais,19 he was in both places repulsed by the inhabitants. Wherefore he fled with great grief and shame towards Babylonia, and met on the road about Ecbatana an express with news that Judas had defeated Lysias, taken his fortresses in Judæa, and exterminated the idol which he had set up. Swelling with anger, he said he would march straight to Jerusalem, and make it a sepulchre of the Jews. In this fit of rage he commanded his chariot to be driven with the utmost speed, and without stopping. He had no sooner done speaking than God struck him with an incurable disease, and a dreadful pain in his bowels came upon him, and bitter torments of the inner parts. Still breathing revenge in his rage against the Jews, and travelling in great haste, he fell from his chariot and his body was grievously bruised. Then he, who seemed to himself to command the waves of the sea, and to be raised above the condition of man, being cast down to the ground, was carried in a litter: worms swarmed out of his body, and his flesh fell off; and the man who, a little before, thought he could reach to the stars, no man could endure to carry, by reason of the intolerable stench of his body which was noisome to the whole army; and when he was not able to bear the smell of his own flesh, and great grief came upon him, he called for all his friends, and said to them, “Sleep is gone from my eyes, and I am fallen away, and my heart is cast down through anxiety. And I said in my heart: Into what tribulation am I come, and into what floods of sorrow, wherein I now am? I who was pleasant, and beloved in my power; but now I remember the evils that I did in Jerusalem. I know that for this cause these evils have found me: and behold I perish with great grief in a strange land.20 He promised to make Jerusalem a free city, and to favor it with the most honorable privileges, equal to those which the commonwealth of Athens enjoyed; to adorn the temple with great gifts, increase the holy vessels, and allow out of his revenues the charges belonging to the sacrifices; also that he would become a Jew, and go through every place of the earth, and declare the power of God; but his repentance was only founded on temporal motives. Wherefore the Holy Ghost says of him: This wicked man prayed to the Lord, of whom he was not likely to obtain mercy.21 He died one hundred and sixty years before the Christian era. See 2 Mach. 5, 6, 7. Joseph.1. de Imperio Rationis. Guyon, t. 7. Univ. Hist. t. 10, p. 275. Calmet on the Machabees. F. Berruyer, t. 7. The feast of the Seven Machabees and their mother was celebrated on the 1st of August in the first ages of the Church, as may be seen by very ancient Calendars, especially that of Carthage.22 Also by those of the Syrians, Arabians, and other Orientals.23 We have panegyrics in honor of these Martyrs by SS. Greg. Naz. Chrysost. August. Gaudent. and Leo the Great.

AUGUST 1 — SS. FAITH, HOPE, AND CHARITY, VV. MM

These three holy sisters suffered many torments and a cruel death for the faith at Rome, in the reign of Adrian. St. Sophia, their mother, gave them these names out of devotion, and her love of the theological virtues. She trained them up in the most perfect sentiments of religion and piety, rejoiced exceedingly to see them honored with the crown of martyrdom, and exhorted them in their conflict. She served God in holy widowhood, and died in peace. She is commemorated on the 30th of September. The names of these saints have been always famous both in the Eastern and Western churches.

AUGUST 1 — SAINT ETHELWOLD, BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, C

This saint was nobly born, and a native of Winchester. Being moved in his youth with an ardent desire totally to devote himself to the divine service, he for some time made it his most earnest request to the Father of lights, that he might find an experienced guide in the paths of salvation. He met with this director in the great St. Dunstan, then abbot of Glastenbury, to whom he addressed himself, and received from his hands the monastic habit. Knowing that heavenly wisdom is an inestimable treasure, to purchase which we must sell all things and exert our whole strength, he bid adieu to all other thoughts and pursuits, and never ceased to sigh, to pray, to weep, and to labor, with all the ardor of his soul, that he might be so happy as to obtain so great a good, to which God himself vouchsafes, in his mercy, to invite us. The earnestness with which he sought daily to improve his soul in perfect virtue, was the surest mark how much the Holy Ghost already reigned in his heart. At the same time his zeal for knowledge made him embrace every branch of the sacred sciences with so much the greater ardor as these studies were become his essential duty. St. Dunstan, after some time, made him dean of his monks. In 947, king Edred* rebuilt and richly endowed the abbey of Abingdon in Berkshire, which had formerly been founded by king Cissa, in 675, and augmented by Ina. Ethelwold was appointed abbot of this great monastery, which he rendered a perfect model of regular discipline, and a nursery of other like establishments. He procured from Corbie a master of church music, and sent Osgar to Fleury, a monastery which at that time surpassed all others in the reputation of strict observance of the most perfect monastic discipline. The fury of the Danes had made such havoc of religious houses, that no monks were then left in all England except in the two monasteries of Glastenbury and Abingdon, as the historian of this latter place, published by Wharton, testifies; and the education of youth, and every other support of learning and virtue, was almost banished by the ravages of those barbarians. These deplorable circumstances awaked the zeal of the virtuous, especially of St. Dunstan, St. Ethelwold, and St. Oswald. These three also set themselves with great industry to restore learning.1

St. Ethelwold was consecrated bishop of Winchester by St. Dunstan. The disorders and ignorance which reigned among some of the clergy of England occasioned by the Danish devastations, produced a scandalous violation of some of the canons. Ethelwold found these evils obstinate and past recovery among the disorderly secular canons of the cathedral of Winchester. Wherefore he expelled them, allotting to each of them a part of their prebends for their annual subsistence, and placing monks from Abingdon in their room, with whom he kept choir as their bishop and abbot.† Three of the former canons took the monastic habit, and continued to serve God in that church. The year following, St. Ethelwold expelled the seculars out of the new monastery of Winchester, and placed there monks with an abbot. He repaired the nunnery dedicated to the Virgin Mary in the same city, and bought of the king the lands and ruins of the great nunnery of St. Audry in the isle of Ely, which had been burnt by the Danes a hundred years before; and he erected on the same spot a sumptuous abbey of monks, which king Edgar exceedingly enriched, as is related by Thomas of Ely. He likewise purchased the ruins of Thorney in Cambridgeshire, which he restored in like manner about the year 970.‡ He assisted and directed Adulph to buy the ruins of Peterborough abbey, and rebuild the same in a most sumptuous manner. The foundation of this house was laid by Peada, the first Christian king of the Mercians, in 646; but it was finished by that king’s brothers Wulphere and Ethelred, and their devout virgin sisters Kineburg and Kinewith, who were there interred. This abbey, after having flourished two hundred years in great reputation for piety, was destroyed by the Danes in 870. Adulph, chancellor to king Edgar, having buried his only son, who died in his infancy in 960, gave his whole estate to this house,* took the monastic habit in it, and was chosen the first abbot. St. Ethelwold, who labored so strenuously to propagate the divine honor, and the sanctification of others, was always solicitous and zealous, in the first place, to adorn his own soul with all virtues, and to make himself in all things a sacrifice agreeable to God; for it is only the humility and charity of the heart that give a value to exterior actions; without these, to give our goods to the poor, and our bodies to the flames, would not avail us. The fervor of devotion and compunction must be always nourished and increased in the breast, or it grows slack, as an arrow shot from a bow loses by degrees its force, and at length falls to the ground. In our saint, the fervent exercise of interior devotion, and the practice of exterior actions of virtue, mutually supported and gave strength to each other. He rested from his labors on the 1st of August, 984, and was buried in the cathedral of Winchester, on the south side of the high altar. Authentic proofs of miracles wrought through his intercession having been made, his body was taken up and solemnly deposited under the altar by St. Elphege, his immediate successor, afterward archbishop of Canterbury, and martyr. See his life written by Wolstan, his disciple, in Mabillon, Act. Ben. Sæc. 5. See also the histories of Glastenbury, Ely, and Abingdon monasteries.

AUGUST 1 — ST. PELLEGRINI OR PEREGRINUS, HERMIT

An Irish young prince of royal blood, who, after visiting the holy places in Palestine, led an austere eremitical life for forty years in the chain of mountains near Modena in Italy. He died in 643. He is honored among the patrons of the country of Modena and Lucca, and from him that chain of the Apennine hills is called Monti di S. Pellegrini. See Colgan in MSS. ad 1 Aug and Dempster in his Etruria Regalis, printed at Florence in 1723, in 2 vols. folio, at the expense of Mr. Thomas Coke, afterward earl of Leicester.

AUGUST 2 — ST. STEPHEN, POPE AND MARTYR

See the Pontificals, and the works of St. Cyprian, &c. Also Tillemont, t. 11. Orsi, t. 3, b. 7.

A. D. 257.

ST. STEPHEN was by birth a Roman, and being promoted to holy orders was made archdeacon of that church under the holy popes and martyrs St. Cornelius and St. Lucius. The latter going to martyrdom recommended him to his clergy for his successor. He was accordingly chosen pope on the 3d of May, 253, and sat four years, two months, and twenty-one days. Soon after his election, he was called to put a stop to the havoc which certain wolves, under the name and habit of pastors, threatened to make in the churches of Gaul and Spain. Marcian, bishop of Arles (in which see he seems to have succeeded St. Regulus, immediate successor of St. Trophimus), embraced the error of Novatian, and, upon the inhuman maxim of that murderer of souls, refused the communion, that is, absolution, to many penitents even in the article of death. Faustinus, bishop of Lyons, and other Gaulish prelates sent informations and complaints against him to St. Stephen and St. Cyprian: to the first, on account of the superior authority and jurisdiction of his see; to the other, on account of the great reputation of his sanctity, eloquence, and remarkable zeal against the Novatians. St. Cyprian having no jurisdiction over Arles, could do no more than join the Gaulish Catholics in stirring up the zeal of Saint Stephen to exert his authority, and not suffer an obstinate heretic to disturb the peace of those churches to the destruction of souls. This he did by a letter to St. Stephen, in which he says,1 “It is necessary that you dispatch away ample letters to our fellow-bishops in Gaul, that they no longer suffer the obstinate Marcian to insult our college.—Write to that province, and to the people of Arles, that Marcian being excommunicated, a successor may be provided for his see.—Acquaint us, if you please, who is made bishop of Arles in the room of Marcian, that we may know to whom we are to send letters of communion, and to direct our brethren.” Though the letters of St. Stephen on this head have not reached us, we cannot doubt but by his order every thing here mentioned was carried into execution; for, in the ancient list of the bishops of Arles published by Mabillon, the name of Marcian does not occur.

An affair of no less consequence happened in Spain. Basilides, bishop of Merida, and Martialis, bishop of Leon and Astorga, had fallen into the crime of the Libellatici, that is, to save their lives in the persecution had purchased for money libels of safety from the persecutors as if they had sacrificed to idols. For this and other notorious crimes Martialis was deposed in a synod, and Basilides was so intimidated that he voluntarily resigned his see. Sabinus was placed in that of Basilides, and Felix in that of Martialis. Basilides soon after repented of what he had done, went to Rome, and imposing upon St. Stephen, was admitted by him to communion as a colleague in the episcopal order; which was the more easy as no sentence of deposition had passed in his case. Returning into Spain with letters of the pope in his favor, he was received in the same rank by some of the bishops; and Martialis, encouraged by his example, presumed to claim the same privilege. The Spanish bishops consulted St. Cyprian what they ought to do with regard to the two delinquents, and that learned prelate answered; that persons notoriously guilty of such crimes were, by the canons, utterly disqualified for presiding in the church of Christ, and offering sacrifices to God; that the election and ordination of their two successors having been regular and valid, they could not be rescinded or made null; and lastly, that the pope’s letters were obreptitious, and obtained by fraud and a suppression of the truth, consequently were null. “Basilides,” says he, “going to Rome, there imposed upon our colleague Stephen, living at a distance, and ignorant of the truth that was concealed from him. All this only tends to accumulate the crimes of Basilides, rather than to abolish the remembrance of them; since, to his former account, hereby is added the guilt of endeavoring to circumvent the pastors of the church.”2 He lays the blame not on him who had been imposed upon, but Basilides who fraudulently gained “access to him.” We know no more of this affair; but cannot doubt that the pope (whose jurisdiction none of the parties disclaimed) was better informed, and the proceedings of the Spanish bishops confirmed.

The controversy concerning the rebaptization of heretics gave St. Stephen much more trouble. It was the constant doctrine of the Catholic church, that baptism given in the evangelical words, that is, in the name of the three persons of the Holy Trinity, is valid, though it be conferred by a heretic. This was the practice even of the African church till Agrippinus, bishop of Carthage, in the close of the second century, changed it, fifty years before St. Cyprian, as Saint Austin and Vincent of Lerius testify; and St. Cyprian himself only appeals to a council held by Agrippinus for the origin of his pretended tradition.3 St. Cyprian, in three African councils, decreed, according to this principle, that baptism given by a heretic is always null and invalid; which decision he founds in this false principle, that no one can receive the Holy Ghost by the hands of one who does not himself possess him in his soul. Which false reasoning would equally prove that no one in mortal sin can validly administer any sacrament; but Christ is the principal, though invisible minister in the administration of the sacraments; and though both faith and the state of grace be required in him who confers any sacrament, not to incur the guilt of sacrilege; yet neither is required for the validity. St. Cyprian sums up all the arguments which he thought might serve his purpose in his letter to Jubaianus, written in 256. Many bishops of Cilicia, Cappadocia, and Phrygia, having at their head Firmilian, the learned bishop of Cæsarea, and Helenus of Tarsus, fell in with the Africans, and maintained the same error. All the partisans of this practice falsely imagined it to be a point, not of faith, which is everywhere invariable, but of mere discipline, in which every church might be allowed to follow its own rule or law.* St. Cyprian and Firmilian carried on the dispute with too great warmth, the latter especially, who spoke of St. Stephen in an unbecoming manner. If such great and holy men could be betrayed into angel, and biassed by prepossession, how much ought we sinners to watch over our hearts against passion, and mistrust our own judgment! The respect which is due to their name and virtue obliges us to draw a veil over this fault, as Saint Austin often puts us in mind, who, speaking of Firmilian, says: “I will not touch upon what he let fall in his anger against Stephen.”* The pope, who saw the danger which threatened the Church under the color of zeal for its purity and unity, and an aversion from heresy, opposed himself as a rampart for the house of God, declaring that no innovation is to be allowed, but that the tradition of the Church, derived from the apostles, is to be inviolably maintained. He even threatened to cut off the patrons of the novelty from the communion of the Church. But St. Dionysius of Alexandria interceded by letters, and procured a respite, as Eusebius mentions.4

St. Stephen suffered himself patiently to be traduced as a favorer of heresy in approving heretical baptism, being insensible to all personal injuries, not doubting but those great men, who by a mistaken zeal were led astray, would, when the heat of disputing should have subsided, calmly open their eyes to the truth. Thus by his zeal he preserved the integrity of faith, and by his toleration and forbearance saved many souls from the danger of shipwreck. “Stephen,” says St. Austin,5 “thought of excommunicating them; but being endued with the bowels of holy charity, he judged it better to abide in union. The peace of Christ overcame in their hearts.”† Of this contest, the judicious Vincent of Lerins6 gives the following account:—“When all cried out against the novelty, and the priests everywhere opposed it in proportion to every one’s zeal, then pope Stephen, of blessed memory, bishop of the apostolic sec, stood up, with his other colleagues, against it, but he in a signal manner above the rest, thinking it fitting, I believe, that he should go beyond them as much by the ardor of his faith as he was raised above them by the authority of his see. In his letter to the church of Africa he thus decrees: ‘Let no innovation be introduced, but let that be observed which is handed down to us by tradition.’ The prudent and holy man understood that the rule of piety admits nothing new, but that all things are to be delivered down to our posterity with the same fidelity with which they were received; and that it is our duty to follow religion, and not make religion follow us; for the proper characteristic of a modest and sober Christian is, not to impose his own conceits upon posterity, but to make his own imaginations bend to the wisdom of those that went before him. What then was the issue of this grand affair, but that which is usual?—antiquity kept possession, and novelty was exploded.”

St. Stephen died on the 2d of August, 257, and was buried in the cemetery of Calixtus. He is styled a martyr in the Sacramentary of St. Gregory the Great, and in the ancient Martyrologies which bear the name of St. Jerom. The persecution of Valerian was raised in the year 257, and in it St. Stephen could not fail to be sought out as the principal victim. The acts of his martyrdom deserve some regard, as Tillemont observes. They are esteemed genuine by Baronius and Berti.7 This latter shows the exceptions made to their authority by Basnage to be altogether founded in mistakes. These acts relate that the saint was beheaded by the pursuivants whilst he was sitting in his pontifical chair, which was buried with his body, and is still shown as stained with his blood. The relics were translated to Pisa in 1682, and are there venerated in the great church which bears his name. But his head is kept with great respect at Cologne.

Not only bishops, but all superiors, are Christ’s vicegerents, and are bound to be mindful of their charge, for which they will be demanded a rigorous account. How many such live as if they had only their own souls to take care of; yet think themselves good Christians! Few have the light, the courage, the charity, and the zeal necessary for such a charge; and many through sloth, self-love, or a passion for pleasure, company, vanity, and the world, neglect various obligations of their state. It will be a false plea for such to allege at the last day, that they have kept well their own vineyard, whilst they have suffered others under their care to be overgrown with briers and weeds.

AUGUST 2 — ST. ETHELDRITHA, VIRGIN CALLED ALSO ALFRIDA

She was daughter of Off a king of the Mercians in England, and of queen Quindreda. Having refused to marry Ethelbert king of the East-angles, from an ardent desire of consecrating herself entirely to God, she quitted the court, and retired to a small cell near Croyland in Lincolnshire, where she lived during the space of forty years. Several miracles gave testimony of her eminent sanctity; and assiduous prayer, accompanied with the practice of other Christian virtues, rendered her worthy of the society of angels, to which God was pleased to remove her about the year 834. Her relics were lost during the ravages of the Danes. See her acts; also Ingulphus Bromton. and F. Bosch the Bollandist, t. 1, Aug. p. 171.

AUGUST 2 — ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI. B. C

From his life, entitled, Vita di S. Alfonso Maria de Liguori: Roma, 1839. Composed from authentic documents adduced in the process of his canonization.

A. D. 1787.

HE was born in Marinella, in the suburbs of Naples, on the 27th of September, 1696, the feast of Saints Cosmas and Damian, and baptized two days after, on the feast of St. Michael the Archangel. Amongst the names given him, Alphonsus, Maria, were the leading ones, and by these, to the exclusion of the others, he is usually known. His father Joseph, of the noble house of Liguori, was alike distinguished for talent (especially military) and for virtue: and his mother Catherine (also of a noble house) was sister to the celebrated servant of God, Emilio Jacomo Cavalieri, Bishop of Troy in partibus, who died in the odor of sanctity. Indeed she was worthy such a brother, being scarcely, if at all, inferior to him in sanctity of life.

Alphonsus, in early youth, nay, we might almost say, in infancy, even then, edified all with whom he conversed; and those who have written his life in detail, mention numerous instances of virtue, which we cannot afford to specify. He had a remarkable disinclination for the amusements of children, and never took part in them, unless when charity, or the fear of singularity, ruled it otherwise. He evinced the most tender devotion to mysteries, which most children of his age can scarce be brought to understand, and even amongst the youths with whom he was obliged to associate in the college of nobles, under the conduct of the priests of the oratory, his conduct never varied; his devotion to the sacrament of the altar, and the Mother of God, continually gaining strength. His progress in human learning kept pace so well with his progress in the science of the saints, that when he had completed his legal studies, he required a dispensation of three years for admission to the degree of doctor in canon and civil law.

He practised for some time at the bar, and was fast growing into repute, when an incident occurred, to which, in the dispensations of Providence, we are indebted for the apostolic labors and learned writings of our Saint. Alphonsus having been retained as counsel for the defence, in a case of great interest and importance, his pleading was so ingenious and so eloquent, that the president, Signor Caravita, felt disposed to give judgment in favor of his client, when the counsel on the other side, instead of replying, simply begged of Alphonsus to reconsider his argument, and see whether it was not unsound. Alphonsus, to his great confusion and surprise, perceived it to be flawed by reason of his having overlooked one negative particle in the process. The court and audience complimented him upon his able defence, and acquitted him of any blame upon the score of negligence; attributing his oversight to the warmth so natural to a young lawyer in his situation. Alphonsus, however, did not so readily acquit himself; but, having bowed to the court, was heard to say, as he withdrew, “false world, I know you, and have done with you;”—he had given up the bar.

Almighty God was pleased to enlighten his mind, during a retreat of three days, which he made under the direction of his confessor; at the end of which period he was confirmed in his resolution, to attend solely to the care of his salvation. Alphonsus having now nothing to divide his attention with the pursuit of virtue and sacred science, devoted himself unreservedly to the attainment of both,—and applied his powerful intellect so vigorously to the study of theology, as rapidly to fit himself for the office of a teacher in Israel. The rapid and steady progress of Alphonsus in piety and learning induced Cardinal Pignatelli, the then Archbishop of Naples, to hasten his promotion to tonsure and minor orders; unwilling that the church should longer remain without numbering such a youth as he amongst her ministers. Immediately that Alphonsus was advanced to minor orders, he entered upon the discharge of his functions, and kept it with faith and assiduity. Anxious, not only to preserve that purity of life to which he was exhorted by the ordaining bishop, but, moreover, continually to amass new treasures of grace, he regularly attended the religious exercises of the fathers of the mission; a practice which he persevered in up to the time of his ordination to the priesthood. No sooner had Alphonsus received deaconship, than the Cardinal Archbishop, not content with permitting, exhorted him to preach; and the obedient levite, in compliance with the desire of his pastor, preached his first sermon in the parish church of St. John, in Porta, upon the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar.

On the 27th of December, 1726, Alphonsus, being in the thirty-first year of his age, was ordained priest. We shall not dilate upon the raptures of Alphonsus, when he found himself on the summit of the holy mountain. We pass over the sentiments of faith, love, and gratitude, with which he immolated, for the first time, the sacred victim of the altar. We speak not of the redoubled fervor with which he applied himself to all his usual practices of piety, and more especially to the loving adoration of the Blessed Sacrament; we press onward to his apostolical labors, and taking a hasty survey of all he did, and taught, and weighing his title to greatness in the balance of the sanctuary, over which is inscribed, “qui fecerit et docuerit sic homines, hic magnus vocabitur in regno cœlorum,” we shall see whether his title be such, that in the kingdom of Heaven he is called great.

As a matter of course, the pulpit labors of Alphonsus increased on his advancement to the priesthood; and to these were added the toilsome and revolting duties of the confessional. So great, in fact, was the esteem in which Alphonsus was held by his Archbishop, that he had no sooner been ordained priest, than he was appointed to conduct the retreat of the clergy, although there were amongst them many apostolic and eloquent men of older standing than he. He was peculiarly fitted for the confessional, not by the qualities which he possessed (all of which are indispensable to every good confessor), but by the degree in which he possessed them. His tenderness in receiving, his patience in hearing, his sweetness in admonition, were such as few or none have ever met with. The unction with which he represented to the sinner his ingratitude, and the moving words by which he sought to excite him to repentance, were irresistible.

Inspired by his zeal for the salvation of souls, he bethought him of a means whereby to confirm his penitents in their holy resolutions, and instruct them more at large in the science of perfection. On festival days assembling them around him, in some remote and silent quarter of the city, he there addressed them on spiritual subjects. There, encircled by persons of the meanest condition, he was all the better pleased on that account, as they afforded him an opportunity of enlightening them upon many portions of the Christian doctrine, of which they had, till then, been ignorant. After a time several priests, and some laymen of a spiritual life, joined him in his conferences, when the assembly having been represented to the governor as of a suspicious character, was dissolved, though not without the innocence of its object having been recognised. The priests, upon this, retired to a house in the city, and spent their time in exercises of penance and devotion, and those of no ordinary character, but, to Alphonsus, scarce any extremity of vigor, scarce any pitch of fervor was unknown. Alphonsus took care that the dispersion of his hearers should not be prejudicial to the poor people who shared most of his attention, for he caused the more enlightened and zealous of his penitents to assemble their less favored brethren, and speak to them on spiritual subjects, with the consent of the Archbishop, in private houses, and hired rooms, and at length, even in public oratories and chapels.

Father Matteo Ripa, a truly apostolic priest, having returned from China, with some youths of that nation, destined for the sacred ministry, succeeded in 1729 in establishing a college for the Chinese mission. To this college Alphonsus withdrew, as well to escape the distractions of his father’s house, as to perfect himself in the ministry of the divine word, under such a master as Matteo Ripa. Alphonsus lived in the college on no other footing than that of a guest, although for a time he had some thoughts of China, which he relinquished in obedience to his confessor, Father Pagano. Our Saint meanwhile continued to preach in all the churches of Naples to immense congregations, and with abundant fruit. At stated periods of the year, he conducted missions in various quarters of the kingdom, and while laboring for the sanctification of others, took such measures for his own, as are taken only by saints such as he.

He addressed himself to God in prayer, and took counsel of several learned and pious men, all of whom assured him that it was the will of God he should become the founder of a new congregation of missionary priests for the spiritual aid of those souls who are most destitute. The Bishop of Scala engaged him to establish the first house of the future Order in his diocess. He set off for Scala, and on the ninth of November, 1732, after having celebrated a Mass of the Holy Ghost, and sung the “Te Deum,” in thanksgiving for all the protection vouchsafed him in this matter, he laid the foundation of his new society. His first companions numbered twelve, consisting of ten priests, and two candidates for orders, together with a serving lay-brother, Vito Curzio by name, a rich gentleman of Acquaviva di Bari, who, admonished by a vision at Naples, had chosen that humble post amongst the brethren of the new congregation.

The life which Alphonsus and his companions led in Scala, resembled nothing so exactly as the life of those penitents whom St. John Chrysostom speaks of in his “Mystic Ladder.” Their lodging was small and incommodious; their beds a little straw shaken on the floor; their bread black, hard, and coarse; their other food disgusting from its insipidity, and taken kneeling, their religious exercises incessant. From time to time they dispersed themselves over the country to conduct the missions, and gathered in such harvests of souls (Alphonsus always foremost in labor and success), as caused the bishop to thank God with all the fervor of his heart, for having provided his diocess with these apostles, and above all, with Alphonsus, who was the great instrument in the hands of the Almighty, and next to God best entitled to its gratitude.

Whilst Alphonsus and his brethren, laboring thus for their neighbors’ salvation, and their own, seemed like the primitive Christians to have one only heart, and one only soul, the enemy contrived to sow his tares amongst them, and scatter the infant congregation. Our Saint thinking it high time to have a code of rules framed for the government of his congregation, wished to collect the views of his brethren upon the subject. Some would fain combine the care of poor schools with their missionary labors; some were advocates for more absolute, and some for mitigated poverty; some insisted upon increased austerity, and some advised relaxation; nearly all condemned the plan of Alphonsus. The saint at other times so deferential to his brethren, defended his plan, and adhered to it in every particular, notwithstanding the opposition of his companions, who at length deserted him, with the exception of Cæsar Sportelli, as yet a secular, and the lay-brother Vito Curzio.

As soon as it reached Naples that Alphonsus was abandoned by his brethren, those who had originally been hostile to his design, renewed their condemnation of it in no very temperate strain. They taxed the saint with presumption, and held him up to ridicule, not allowing even the Archbishop to escape uncensured for the favor which he showed Alphonsus; but the venerable Archbishop, uninfluenced by these malicious speeches in his opinior of Alphonsus or his design, sent for the holy man, and encouraged him to prosecute his good work, an encouragement which, though well meant, was little needed, as Alphonsus, nothing daunted, went the mission by himself in the confidence that God in his own time would provide him with fellow-laborers. The man of God was not disappointed in his expectations; after a while he was joined by father John Mazzini, and as others began to flow in apace, Alphonsus submitted to the holy see the rules he had drawn up for the government of the congregation, and which met with the entire approval of the Pope.

The congregation being now distributed into different houses, the brethren set about the election of a superior-general, and were unanimous in their choice of Alphonsus, whom they appointed general for life. We shall not go into many details upon the government of the holy superior-general; suffice it to say, that he united the greatest humility with the highest dignity—the greatest meekness with the most unlimited command—and all the virtues of the subject with all the qualities of the superior. He made a yearly visitation of all the houses of his order; and as soon as he had completed the visitation, addressed to each house a circular replete with tender piety and spiritual learning, breathing the most ardent charity towards God and his neighbor, and expressive of the tenderest love for the congregation. He was wont to embody in short and pithy sentences, the whole duty of a missionary of the congregation, or place the observance of the rule in a new and striking light.

In training the students for their missionary labors, every other study was of course subordinate to the great object of the congregation—the ministry of the divine word; and it was the anxious care of Alphonsus to impress them with correct notions upon this all-important matter. He instructed them to avoid defacing the simplicity of the gospel with the frippery of rhetoric, or even the genuine beauties of purely human eloquence. He took especial care that they should fit themselves for the confessional by the study of moral theology; which, he said, should finish only with the life of the student, and without the knowledge of which, a confessor, he said, would damn himself, and bring ruin on his penitents. He instructed them, moreover, in the proper treatment of different classes of penitents, impressing upon them the necessity of sweetness and charity, the danger of severity and harshness, and the importance of using to advantage their discretion in giving or withholding absolution in those cases where the church has left either course open to them.

The sanctity of Alphonsus, and the wonders by which his preaching was attended, began to attract the notice of the entire kingdom, and, amongst others, of Cardinal Spinelli, who immediately fixed his eye upon him for promotion to the episcopacy. Shortly after, the Archbishopric of Palermo becoming vacant, the king determined upon appointing Alphonsus to that dignity, saying, “If the Pope appoint good bishops, I shall appoint still better.” Alphonsus, who, upon the mere suspicion of Cardinal Spinelli’s designs, had left his unfinished mission in Naples, was dreadfully alarmed when he heard of the king’s intention, and bestirred himself so vigorously to counteract it, that he did at length succeed, and was consoled by witnessing the appointment of another. But his joy was of short duration, and his escape from the burthen of the episcopacy proved to be nothing more than a reprieve; for the see of Sant’ Agata de’ Goti becoming vacant, he was nominated by the Pope himself to the care of that church. Alphonsus having recovered from the desolation into which he was thrown by the announcement of this intelligence, addressed a letter to the Pope, setting forth his unfitness for that high office, as well by reason of his infirm health, and advanced age, as of his spiritual unworthiness. The Holy Father upon receiving the letter of Alphonsus was deeply moved by the pathetic remonstrances of the saint; and, on the evening of the 14th of March, communicated to his Pro-auditor, Cardinal Negroni, his intention of allowing Alphonsus to decline the dignity; but, on the following morning, informed Cardinal Negroni, that God had inspired him during the night to have Alphonsus consecrated. The Pro-auditor then, by command of the Pope, wrote to Alphonsus, acquainting him with the determination of His Holiness, and put him upon his obedience.

The companions of our Saint, in sore affliction at their approaching bereavement, and unwilling to lose his sweet and fatherly government, having assembled in chapter, confirmed him in the perpetual superior-generalship, empowering him at the same time to govern through one of his vicars, when he should find it necessary: and this decree, in order to its greater stability, they submitted to the sacred congregation of bishops and superiors of orders, by whom it was confirmed on the 25th of May, 1762.

Alphonsus having accepted the episcopal office, through pure obedience, set out for Rome accompanied by Father Andrea Villani, a man of approved virtue.

During his residence in Rome, notwithstanding his retired habits, and the scantiness of his retinue (a single servant), he was paid the most distinguished respect by generals of religious orders, bishops, princes, and cardinals. Almost every moment of his sojourn in the Eternal City he spent in austere watchings, disciplines to blood, constant adoration of the most holy Sacrament, and the exercise of acts of mercy. Having been at length formally declared bishop of Sant’ Agata de’ Goti, by the Sovereign Pontiff, in the secret consistory held on the 14th of June, 1762, Alphonsus was consecrated on the 20th of the same month, the third Sunday after Pentecost, in the sixty-sixth year of his age, in the Church of St. Mary Sopra Minerva, by Cardinal de Rossi, assisted by Monsignor Gorgoni, Archbishop of Emessa, and Monsignor Giordani, Archbishop of Nicomedia, governor of Rome. As soon as he had been consecrated, Alphonsus took leave of the Sovereign Pontiff, unwilling that he should be absent from his church a moment longer than was necessary.

Upon his return to Naples, many persons of the highest distinction, as well as many of his former colleagues, endeavored to detain him there, and dissuade him from his precipitate journey to Sant’ Agata. which seemed to portend so constant a residence in that unwholesome town as would prove ruinous to his health. Their remonstrances, however, were ineffectual, and he set out on the 11th of July, accompanied by his brother Hercules, and Father Francis Margotto. His journey through the country was like the triumphal procession of a conqueror. He was met at every stage by reverential multitudes, and welcomed into Sant’ Agata by the citizens, and the chapter of the process. Having proceeded to the Church, he spent some time in adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, and then addressing the people in a moving strain gave them his benediction and the indulgence usual upon such occasions The very next morning he began the mission to the people, which he continued during eight days, giving each morning spiritual exercises to the clergy, secular and regular, as well as to the gentry; so that shortly after his arrival, the entire aspect of the city and diocess had undergone a most surprising and consoling change.

Alphonsus, in the government of his diocess, simply carried out the principles which he had laid down in a book, entitled “Reflections useful to bishops in the government of their Churches,” and published before his elevation to the episcopacy. Though removed in body from his congregation, it ceased not to be directed by his spirit, as he was in constant communication with Father Villani, his Vicar-general, and the superiors of houses, continually exhorting and instructing them by letters full of unction and wisdom alike divine. His elevation to the episcopal dignity no wise prejudiced that eminent spirit of poverty by which he had been distinguished while residing with the congregation. His dress (invariably the habit of the congregation) was of the coarsest texture. He left the best apartments to his household clergy, occupying himself a couple of the most unpretending, and furnished in the meanest style, possessing, in fact, only some straw chairs, a table with an inkstand and a few books, a small wooden bedstead with a straw bed, and coarse sheets, some pictures of saints and one of our blessed Lady of good counsel, together with a little altar for the celebration of Mass, when his health should not permit him to go to the Cathedral. His table was originally very simple, and every day experienced new retrenchments, until it reached the standard of insipidity, which Alphonsus had laid out for it. His household resembled nothing so closely as a religious community, so regular were the hours of prayer, and silence, and meals, and religious converse.

If Alphonsus, by reason of his pastoral cares, was unable to pray as much as he could have desired during the day time, he abridged to a mere nothing the hours of repose, spending the greater part of the night in meditation, or those appalling acts of penance which we have mentioned. The little time which he contrived to steal from his pastoral cares, or his devotions, he spent not in recreation, but in writing, or dictating letters, or composing works for the good of souls, or reading spiritual or theological books. An application unintermitting as was his, could not, unless by miracle, fail to prejudice his health, and in addition to his other infirmities, he began to be afflicted with grievous headaches. But it mattered not, for even when obliged to go out in his carriage, he had his secretary to read a book to him, so that he contrived not to allow a single moment to pass unoccupied. And, lest by possibility a single imperfection should escape his notice, he appointed a discreet and pious priest to make him acquainted with anything he should observe in him, which might require correction.

Alphonsus having fallen sick in Arienzo during one of his yearly visitations, had no sooner recovered his health sufficiently to travel, than he began to think of returning to Sant’ Agata, and the representations of his vicar-general regarding the unsafe condition of a portion of the palace, would have been ineffectual had not the doctors insisted upon his remaining where he was; the damp and insalubrious air of Sant’ Agata being peculiarly hurtful to one afflicted as he was with asthma. But neither his infirmities, nor his withdrawal from the usual seat of episcopal government, caused him to suspend for a day the instructions, private as well as public, which he was in the habit of giving his flock. He preached as usual on Sundays and holidays; and on Saturdays, in honor of the blessed Virgin; he continued to give missions, conduct retreats, and attend at conferences; in a word, he never permitted his health to interfere with the discharge of any of those duties which even holy bishops deem themselves justified in devolving upon others. He catechised in person the infants of both sexes, holding out, and awarding with his own hand, little prizes for their encouragement. He gave audience to persons of either sex, or any degree, who wished to consult him upon their wants and occasions, spiritual or temporal, but summarily dispatched all visits of mere compliment; and once a year made a visitation of half the diocess, so that he saw every portion of it once in two years. In travelling he rode upon an ass, or hired mule (his equipage he had early disposed of), and made use of no other conveyance, no matter how great his infirmities, or what the badness of the road. During the course of the visitation, he everywhere addressed the people, confirmed the children, and inspected the churches, even in the poorest and remotest districts; his household, his table, and his devotions, wherever he resided, being the same as in Sant’ Agata. To the sick of his entire diocess he was attentive, and not satisfied with relieving their wants when they thrust themselves upon him, took measure to discover such wants as might not have attracted his notice. In the administration of justice in his episcopal court, he was so assiduous and vigilant, and weighed so well both sides of the question, that there never was an appear from his decision to that of the Archiepiscopal Court of Benevento: and with regard to ecclesiastical privileges and immunities, though not so tried, he was full as unflinching an asserter of the church’s rights, as was St. Thomas of Canterbury.

There were many things in the clergy requiring reformation, when our saint came to the government of the diocess; and he effected a total change, at once so rapidly and noiselessly, that the people perceived it to be finished almost before they had perceived it to be in progress. To the canonries and other benefices in his gift, he collated none whose moral and intellectual fitness he had not ascertained; the moral, by personal experience, or strict investigation, and the intellectual, by what is technically termed, a “concursus,” or an examination, properly speaking, of two or more candidates, but sometimes of one only. Nor was this strictness confined to his choice of dignitaries only, he was equally exact in the appointment of every priest who was to have the cure of souls, and sit in the tribunal of penance. The rules which he drew up for the conduct of his seminary were equally admirable with every other portion of his government; providing not only for the maintenance of discipline and piety within doors, but for the practice of piety by the students in their own homes during the vacation, at the close of which, if they meant to be readmitted, they should bring with them a certificate of their religious conduct, signed on oath by the parish priest.

The regular clergy and conventuals of his diocess, men and women, claimed his most paternal attention. He did his utmost, and with the most perfect success, to improve the character of those peculiarly catholic institutions, especially such as were under the invocation of the Mother of God. His beautiful work entitled the “True Spouse of Jesus Christ, or the Nun Sanctified,” will be read with peculiar spiritual advantage by nuns, and with vast profit by any religious whosoever.

If Alphonsus was attentive to the sanctification of the clergy and sacred virgins of his diocess. Oh! how zealously and unremittingly did he not labor for the simple faithful? Not satisfied with his continual preaching by word and example, or his yearly visitations, or the missions he gave in person, or those which he procured by inviting missionaries from other diocesses, or providing the people with virtuous and learned clergy; not satisfied with all this, he tracked vice and scandals to their strongholds.

He exerted himself with the most astonishing activity to put down the absurd and atrocious practice of duelling, often personally interfering to present hostile meetings; and at length memorialing the king to put in force chose laws which had been directed against duelling in the kingdom of Naples. But there was no vice or scandal which he pursued and extirpated with so much zeal as that of immorality, in the more received and restricted sense. It would be impossible to enumerate all the licentious men and abandoned women whom he reclaimed, in very many cases by personal exertion, and often by judicious advice to the civil authorities, who always received it with respect by reason of the esteem in which they held the Saint. Knowing well however that poverty is often the most fatal incentive to vice, he procured honest employment for such young women as he had fears of, and respectable matches for others, giving them portions out of his own revenue. Some whom he reclaimed he sent to asylums of penance; and against those whom he could not reclaim, he called in the arm of the law.

Carefully as Alphonsus provided for the spiritual wants of his flock, he was not less assiduous in ministering to their temporal necessities. He knew well that the man who has not bowels of compassion for his neighbor, cannot love God, and that the funds of the church are the patrimony of the poor. We have already seen how rigid was the economy of Alphonsus in his household concerns, and that this was produced partly by charity; but to whatever it was owing, the poor had all the benefit of it. So chary was he of the patrimony of the poor, as he called the revenues of his church, that he would not entertain his brother Hercules and his two children for more than three days, saying, that to entertain them longer than that would be to defraud the poor. His brother imagining that the revenues of the diocess were more than sufficient for the maintenance of Alphonsus, as a bishop, thought he would relinquish to him the pension which he enjoyed from the estate; but this Alphonsus declined, saying, that the proceeds of his diocess belonged to the poor, and that he required the income for his own support.

He had an alms for every one who asked it, and summoned his vicar-general and others to the aid of his own zeal in discovering such as shame (so ill-consorted with penury) prevented from putting in their petitions with the others. Superannuated priests, old people of every description, widows with families, and more especially young maidens whose poverty might be the occasion of their fall, were the objects of his tenderest care. We have already mentioned his care of the sick; and it was at least equalled by his care of those in prison, both as concerned their spiritual and temporal wants. But all his other acts of love were outdone by one act of stupendous charity, in the year 1765, during which Italy was afflicted in a great and prevailing famine. As if in preparation for the disastrous season, Alphonsus, contrary to custom, had laid up a large store of corn, and as soon as the scarcity began to be felt, distributed it to the poor. After having expended his entire store, he wrote to every one of wealth and distinction, and more especially to his brother Hercules, to contribute to the relief of the starving population. He afterwards gave orders for the secret sale of the carriage and mules which his brother had presented to him, as well as of his pectoral cross, and the ring given him by Monsignor Ganini, substituting for them gilded things of trifling value. But, notwithstanding all his efforts, thousands remained unsupplied, and in the madness of their hunger, attacked the corporate officers; for whose safety Alphonsus has been known to expose his own life to the fury of the mob.

Alphonsus had accepted the bishopric through pure obedience, and ever held it with fear and trembling; but after a time his advanced years and complicated infirmities raised grievous scruples in his mind upon the score of incapacity, inducing him to think of resigning his office into the hands of the Pope, and retiring with his permission to one of the houses of the congregation. Lest, however, as he said, “The cell to which he should retire, might be to him a hell in consequence of his having withdrawn from an office in which God wished him to remain,” he took counsel of learned and pious men, and finding them favorable to his resignation, applied to Clement XIII., who had appointed him, for his removal, and received for answer, that his name alone was sufficient for the well-ordering the diocess. He received tills answer with perfect submission to the will of God, as intimated to him by His Holiness; but after a time, his increasing infirmities awakening new scruples in his breast, and supplying him with new reasons for requesting the acceptance of his resignation, he applied to Clement XIV. and received for answer, that one prayer from his bed of pain would be more worth than a thousand visitations and disciplines to blood; for the Saint had put forward his inability to make the visitation of his diocess as a ground for his removal.

Alphonsus again bowed in submission to the will of God, and it was to no purpose that his own scruples, or the representations of bishops his advisers, and others, solicited him to renew his application to that Pope. “If I apply,” he said, “my application will not be granted; we shall see what his successor will do for me,” an answer which almost tempted those who heard him to smile, Alphonsus being brought to the grave’s edge by infirmity and years, while the Pope was yet hale and vigorous. For five weary years after this did Alphonsus continue to govern his diocess, and break to his flock the bread of the divine word. Ascending the pulpit, his feeble step propped upon several supporters, his worn frame and drooping head moved every one to tears, but no sooner had he begun to speak, than he was renewed in youth and vigor; his nerves and sinews relaxed from their habitual rigidity, and he preached with all his natural vehemence and fervor. Upon leaving the pulpit, he relapsed into his former state. By order of the physicians, he was now obliged to procure a carriage and take an airing every day, together with eating meat in lent, and sundry other indulgences which mortified Alphonsus infinitely more than could have done the most grievous austerity.

For thirteen years had Alphonsus borne the burthen of the episcopacy, when, on the 21st of September, 1774, being seated in his arm-chair, he fell into a tranquil slumber, which lasted not only that night, but during a portion of the next day, the servant having orders from the vicar-general not to disturb him. On the 22d, about one o’clock in the afternoon, he awoke, and pulled the bell. Seeing the attendants in tears, he inquired of them, what was the matter? and, on being told that he had not eaten or spoken for two days, “True,” he replied, “I have been to attend the Pope, who has just expired,” and, as shortly afterwards came to be known, the Pope had actually just expired at that very moment.

Upon the earliest opportunity Alphonsus made application to Pius VI. for permission to retire from his office, and that Pontiff, although at first disposed to act as his predecessor had done, knowing that the bare presence of Alphonsus was enough to sanctify the diocess, was at length induced by the representations of many distinguished persons to accede, though (as he said with great sorrow, to the request of Alphonsus, and accept his resignation.

Immediately that Alphonsus had received the welcome intelligence, “blessed be God,” he exclaimed, “who has removed a mountain from my breast;” and, in a few days after, having arranged all matters for his departure, left the diocess amid the lamentations of the entire flock, and directed his course towards San Michele de’ Pagni, where there was a house of his order. Having reached his destination, he humbly besought the fathers to receive him once more amongst them. As he ascended the stairs, leading to the choir, he repeated the “Gloria Patri,” and exclaimed, “how light is not now this cross upon my breast, which was so heavy when I first mounted the steps of the palace of Sant’ Agata!” Here he lived completely after the manner of the other fathers of the congregation, attending all the exercises where and when it was done by the rest of the community, and enjoying every distinction and indulgence, the carriage drives, the two apartments, the silver service, and the invalid fare by mere compulsion, and solely through obedience. For the rest, the Pope had given him permission to retain the portable altar in his chamber for his own use, and that of others, and had assigned him a pension of eight hundred ducats upon the diocess of Sant’ Agata, which occasioned him so many scruples, that he wrote concerning it to the Grand Penitentiary, who left the affair in the hands of the Saint’s confessor, and thus set him at ease. Of this pension, however, the Saint appropriated barely what was necessary and distributed the rest amongst public mendicants, or private pensioners of his. For many years he continued to preach in several of the neighboring churches, and especially in the parish church of St. Michael, where his congregation was engaged in giving the mission. Upon one occasion during a season of terrible drought, wretchedly infirm as he was, he dragged himself along an entire street in a procession, with a halter about his neck, a crown of thorns upon his head, and his garments covered with ashes. He foretold to the people the happy result of the procession; and, it is useless to say, that the prediction was soon verified. During all this time he ceased not to compose works for the sanctification of souls.—Amongst other works composed and published by him after his return to San Michele de’ Pagni, he gave to the world the book entitled, “Admirable Dispositions of Divine Providence, for the Salvation of the World, through means of Jesus Christ;” and dedicated it to Pius VI., who was pleased to acknowledge it as an especial favor, and compliment the blessed author in the loftiest, and, at the same time, most affectionate strain. But the health of Alphonsus, which had been all along declining, began rapidly to grow worse. From the 29th of November, 1779, he was unable to say Mass, and continued thenceforward to communicate in one kind; his manner of life being, in other respects, as before described. Indeed, we should rather say, that in proportion to the increase of his decrepitude and weakness, his abstemiousness and general spirit of mortification increased, and he certainly would have persevered in the use of that dreadful implement of penance, the discipline, to his last breath, had he not been forbidden by his confessor, and when obliged to part with it and its fellows, he ordered his lay-brother in attendance to throw into some sewer the box in which he used to keep them.

On the 18th of July, 1787, in addition to his old complaints, he was attacked by a sharp fever, together with a terrible dysentery and retention of urine. These were symptoms so little to be mistaken, that, although he had been absolved three days before by Father Vincenzo Magaldi of the congregation, he confessed again to Father Lorenzo Negri of the congregation also, and after having received absolution, was released from all his usual anxiety, and broke forth into expressions of the liveliest joy and hope, the Lord being doubtless willing to console his servant by a foretaste of Paradise, for all that he had made him suffer during this life, and especially for the grievous temptations against faith, by which he had been assailed some time after his retirement from his diocess. His sufferings lasted for fourteen days, during which he was constantly engaged in acts of piety, keeping his eyes lovingly fixed upon the crucifix and image of the blessed Mother; confessing frequently, and communicating every day.

The news of his mortal illness having been spread abroad, priests, secular as well as regular, and persons of the highest distinction, came from all parts to kiss his hand, bringing kerchiefs, and other things, to sanctify by contact with him, and preserve as relics. At length it become necessary for him to receive the sacrament of Extreme Unction, which he did with the most fervent acts of faith, hope, charity, resignation, and joy. On the 25th of the same month, he received the Blessed Sacrament as a viaticum; and when the time for communicating approached, every moment appeared intolerably long, and unable to contain himself, he incessantly exclaimed, give me the body of my Jesus—when will Jesus come to me?—when shall I possess him? His longings having been at length satisfied, he sunk into a long and deep meditation upon the love of Jesus in the most Holy Sacrament.

Four days before his death he was seized with convulsions so violent as to deprive him of the use of speech. On the thirtieth day of the month, Father Villani not thinking it safe to give him the Viaticum, as he was afraid he should not be able to swallow, one of the fathers desired him to make a spiritual communion, which he did, showing by his eyes and various signs, that he joined in the devout sentiments suggested by that father. On the day before his death, Monsignor Tafuri came to visit him, and seeing him so near his dissolution, reverently kissed his hand, and placed it on his head. On the day of his death, just before the commencement of his agony, upon hearing the names of Jesus and Mary, he opened his eyes and appeared somewhat to revive. What is even more surprising, on the night before his death, the image of the blessed Mother having been brought near his bed, he not only opened his eyes, but fixing them upon it, smiled sweetly, his countenance all radiant with delight. Whence we may all conclude, that the divine Mother blessed her holy client with one of those visits which it was his daily prayer to have at the hour of death, and which he so often held out to all who should be devout to Mary.

Alphonsus straining the crucifix and image of most holy Mary to his breast, the brethren in tears and prayer around him, calmly and without struggle or contortion, breathed forth his blessed soul, on Tuesday, the 1st of August, 1787.

On the 21st day of December, 1809, the venerable Pontiff Pius VII. issued the decree for the beatification of Alphonsus, and on the 26th of May, 1836, our Most Holy Father, Gregory, after having gone through the glorious proofs of his sanctity, vouchsafed to the Church by the Almighty, after the beatification of his servant, proceeded with the solemn ceremony of canonization. or enrolment amongst the saints.

AUGUST 3 — THE INVENTION OF ST. STEPHEN OR THE DISCOVERY OF HIS RELICS

From the authentic relation of Lucian, and from St. Austin, Evodius, &c. See Tillemont, t. 2, p. 9. Orsi,1. 25. n. 118, t. 11. p. 218. Fleury,1. 23, n. 22, t. 5, p. 425.

THIS second festival, in honor of the holy protomartyr St. Stephen, was instituted by the Church on the occasion of the discovery of his precious remains. His body lay long concealed, whilst the glory of his sanctity shone both in heaven and on earth. The very remembrance of the place of his burial had been blotted out of the minds of men, and his relics lay covered under the ruins of an old tomb, in a place twenty miles from Jerusalem, called Caphargamala, that is, borough of Gamaliel, where stood a church which was served by a venerable priest named Lucian. In the year 415, in the tenth consulship of Honorius, and the sixth of Theodosius the Younger, on Friday, the 3d of December, about nine o’clock at night, Lucian was sleeping in his bed, in the baptistery, where he commonly lay, in order to guard the sacred vessels of the church. Being half awake, he saw a tall, comely old man, of a venerable aspect, with a long white beard, clothed in a white garment, edged with small plates of gold, marked with crosses, and holding a golden wand in his hand. This person approached Lucian, and calling him thrice by his name, bid him go to Jerusalem, and tell bishop John to come and open the tombs in which his remains, and those of certain other servants of Christ lay, that through their means God might open to many the gates of his clemency. Lucian asked his name. “I am,” said he, “Gamaliel, who instructed Paul the apostle in the law; and on the east side of the monument lieth Stephen who was stoned by the Jews, without the north gate. His body was left there exposed one day and one night, but was not touched by birds or beasts. I exhorted the faithful to carry it off in the night-time, which, when they had done, I caused it to be carried secretly to my house in the country, where I celebrated his funeral rites forty days, and then caused his body to be laid in my own tomb to the eastward. Nicodemus, who came to Jesus by night, lieth there in another coffin. He was excommunicated by the Jews for following Christ, and banished out of Jerusalem. Whereupon I received him into my house in the country, and there maintained him to the end of his life; after his death I buried him honorably near Stephen. I likewise buried there my son Abibas, who died before me at the age of twenty years. His body is in the third coffin which stands higher up, where I myself was also interred after my death. My wife Ethna, and my eldest son Semelias, who were not willing to embrace the faith of Christ, were buried in another ground, called Capharsemalia.” Lucian, fearing to pass for an impostor if he was too credulous, prayed, that if the vision was from God, he might be favored with it a second and a third time; and he continued to fast on bread and water. On the Friday following Gamaliel appeared again to him in the same form as before, and commanded him to obey. As emblems of the relics he brought and showed Lucian four baskets, three of gold and one of silver. The golden baskets were full of roses; two of white, and one of red roses; the silver basket was full of saffron of a most delicious smell. Lucian asked what these were. Gamaliel said, “They are our relics. The red roses represent Stephen, who lieth at the entrance of the sepulchre: the second basket Nicodemus, who is near the door; the silver basket represents my son Abibas, who departed this life without stain; his basket is contiguous to mine.” Having said this, he disappeared. Lucian then awaked, gave thanks to God, and continued his fasts. In the third week, on the same day, and at the same hour, Gamaliel appeared again to him, and with threats upbraided him with his neglect, adding, that the drought which then afflicted the world, would be removed only by his obedience, and the discovery of their relics. Lucian being now terrified, promised he would no longer defer it.

After this last vision, he repaired to Jerusalem, and laid the whole affair before bishop John, who wept for joy, and bid him go and search for the relics, which the bishop concluded would be found under a heap of small stones which lay in a field near his church. Lucian said he imagined the same thing, and returning to his borough, summoned the inhabitants to meet the next day in the morning, in order to search under the heap of stones. As Lucian was going the morning following to see the place dug up, he was met by Migetius, a monk of a pure and holy life, who told him that Gamaliel had appeared to him, and bade him inform Lucian that they labored in vain in that place. “We were laid there,” said he, “at the time of our funeral obsequies, according to the ancient custom; and that heap of stones was a mark of the mourning of our friends. Search elsewhere, in a place called Debatalia. In effect,” said Migetius, continuing the relation of his vision, “I found myself of a sudden in the same field, where I saw a neglected ruinous tomb, and in it three beds adorned with gold; in one of them more elevated than the others, lay two men, an old man and a young one, and one in each of the others beds.” Lucian having heard Migetius’s report, praised God for having another witness of his revelation, and having removed to no purpose the heap of stones, went to the other Place. In digging up the earth here three coffins or chests were found, as above-mentioned, whereon were engraved these words in very large characters: Cheliel, Nasuam, Gamaliel, Abibas. The two first are the Syriac names of Stephen, or crowned, and Nicodemus, or victory of the people. Lucian sent immediately to acquaint bishop John with this. He was then at the council of Diospolis, and taking along with him Eutonius, bishop of Sebaste, and Eleutherius, bishop of Jericho, came to the place. Upon the opening of St. Stephen’s coffin the earth shook, and there came out of the coffin such an agreeable odor, that no one remembered to have ever smelt anything like it. There was a vast multitude of people assembled in that place, among whom were many persons afflicted with divers distempers; of whom seventy-three recovered their health upon the spot. Some were freed from evil spirits, others cured of scrofulous tumors of various kinds, others of fevers, fistulas, the bloody flux, the falling-sickness, headaches, and pains in the bowels. They kissed the holy relics, and then shut them up. The bishop claimed those of St. Stephen for the church of Jerusalem, of which he had been deacon; the rest were left at Caphargamala. The protomartyr’s body was reduced to dust, excepting the bones, which were whole, and in their natural situation. The bishop consented to leave a small portion of them at Caphargamala; the rest were carried in the coffin with singing of psalms and hymns to the church of Sion at Jerusalem. At the time of this translation there fell a great deal of rain, which refreshed the country after a long drought. The translation was performed on the 26th of December, on which day the church hath ever since honored the memory of St. Stephen, commemorating the discovery of his relics on the third of August, probably on account of the dedication of some church in honor of St. Stephen, perhaps that of Ancona.* The history of this miraculous discovery and translation, written by Lucian himself, and translated into Latin by Avitus, a Spanish priest (native of Braga, then living at Jerusalem, an intimate friend of St. Jerom), is published by the Benedictine monks in the appendix to the seventh tome of the works of St. Austin. This account is also attested by Chrysippus, an eminent and holy priest of the church of Jerusalem (whose virtue is highly commended by the judiclous author of the life of St. Euthymius); by Idatius and Marcellinus in their chronicles; by Basil, bishop of Seleucia, St. Austin,1 Bede, &c. It is mentioned by most of the historians, and in the sermons of the principal fathers of that age. St. Stephen’s body remained in the church of Sion till the empress Eudocia, wife of Theodosius the Younger, going a second time to Jerusalem in 444, built a stately church to God in his honor, about a furlong from the city, near the spot where he was stoned to death, into which she procured his body to be translated, and in which she was buried herself after her death, in 461. St. Austin2, speaking of the miracles of St. Stephen, addresses himself to his flock as follows, “Let us so desire to obtain temporal blessings by his intercession, that we may merit in imitating him those which are eternal.”

Our corporal necessities were not the motive which drew our omnipotent Physician down from heaven, but the spiritual miseries of our souls. In his mortal life he restored many sick to their health, and delivered demoniacs, to give men a sensible proof of his divine power, and for an emblem that he came to relieve the spiritual miseries of our souls, and to put an end to the empire of the devil over them. In like manner, when through his servants he has bestowed corporal blessings on men, he excites our confidence in his mercy to ask through their intercession his invisible graces. We ought to pray for our daily bread, or all necessary supplies of our bodily necessities; but should make these petitions subordinate to the great end of our sanctification, and his divine honor, offering them under this condition, as we know not in temporal blessings what is most expedient for us. God offers us his grace, his love, himself: him we must make the great and ultimate end of all our requests to him. If some rich prince should engage himself to grant us whatever we should ask, it would be putting an affront upon him, if we confined our petition to pins or such trifles, as St. Teresa remarks.

AUGUST 3 — ST. NICODEMUS

He was by sect a Pharisee, and passed for a master and doctor in Israel even when he was ignorant of the truths of eternal life. He seems to have been a senator of Jerusalem; for he is called a Jewish chief. The Pharisees were in general, by their pride, the most opposite of all others to the humility of the gospel. St. Nicodemus was an exception, and believed in Christ.1 At first, something of a secret opinion of his own wisdom and learning, which it is so hard and so rare a thing for men to be perfectly divested of seems to have been an obstacle to his opening his heart perfectly to the grace of his conversion. To humble him, Christ explained to him the mystery of regeneration by baptism, which Saint Nicodemus did not understand, though it was expressed in the prophets. Our merciful Redeemer reproached him for his ignorance. St. Nicodemus, far from being offended at the reproof, received it with such humility, and was so confounded within himself, that perfecting these dispositions, Christ conducted him into the paths of true virtue. He returned to Jesus from time to time; defended him openly against the Pharisees,2 assisted at his burial, and embalmed his sacred body with rich spices.3 Having been turned out of the synagogue by the Jews for believing in Christ, he retired to St. Gamaliel at his country house, and died there, as St. Austin4 and Photius testify from the Acts of the Invention of St. Stephen’s relics.

AUGUST 3 — ST. GAMALIEL

He was of the sect of the Pharisees, and a doctor of the law, in the highest reputation at Jerusalem. St. Paul recommended himself to the Jews by saying that he had been his scholar.1 When the Jews were deliberating to put the apostle to death, St. Gamaliel prevented such a resolution, and indirectly showed the Christian religion to be the work of God; yet this he did with so much prudence as not to incur any suspicion. Though he had not then embraced the faith, his conversion was more early than that of St. Paul, as St. Chrysostom assures us.2 Having buried St. Stephen at his own estate, twenty miles from Jerusalem, he was afterward himself interred in the same sepulchre, and discovered his relics to Lucian, in a vision, in 415, as was related above.

AUGUST 3 — ST. WALTHEN OR WALTHEOF, C. ABBOT OF MELROSS

He was second son of Simon, earl of Huntingdon, and Maud, daughter to Judith the niece of William the Conqueror, who was married to Waltheof, the powerful earl of Northumberland, grandson to the warlike earl of Siward, in his time the bulwark of his country. Walthen, the son of Siward, was the valiant count and governor of Northumberland, and part of Yorkshire, when the Norman conquered England, eminent for his martial exploits and much more for his devotion, immense charities, and all heroic Christian virtues. The Conqueror suspecting him to favor the exiled Saxon family which had taken sanctuary in Scotland, treacherously invited him to court as if it had been to honor him; then cast him into prison, and caused him to be beheaded at Winchester. The constancy, piety, and resignation with which he received his death, procured him the title of a martyr among the people. His body was buried in Saint Guthlake’s church at Croyland, and afterward, upon the evidence of miracles wrought at his tomb, of which a history was compiled and kept in that abbey, was taken up and deposited behind an altar in that church, as Fordun relates. He left only one child, the countess Maud, who was married to Simon, earl of Huntingdon, by whom she had two sons, Simon and Walthen. In their infancy it was the pastime of Simon to build towers and castles, but Walthen’s to build churches and monasteries of paper and wood. When grown up the elder brother Simon inherited his father’s martial disposition together with his titles; but Walthen, from his cradle, discovered the strongest inclinations to piety and was humble, modest, mild, obedient, beneficent, prudent, and devout much beyond his years. The first impressions of these virtues, together with a great esteem of angelical purity, he received from his pious mother Maud, who, after the death of her first husband, was given in marriage by king Henry I. to David, the most religious king of Scotland, and the worthy son of St. Margaret. Walthen followed his mother to that court, where he contracted an intimate friendship with Saint Aelred, in whose heart our saint sowed the first seeds of his perfect conversion from the world. The good king was charmed with the virtues of his son-in-law, gave him on all occasions marks of his particular affection, and took great delight in his company.

The young nobleman was too steadfastly grounded in the maxims of humility and mortification to be seduced by the flatteries of the world; and the smiles of fortune served only to make him the more apprehensive of its dangers. To fence his heart against these illusions, and the contagion of the air which he breathed in the world, he was solicitous to put on the armor of God, that he might be able to resist all assaults, watch against the secret insinuations of a worldly spirit, and stand in all things perfect. Loving and valuing only heavenly things, and being always fervent in the exercise of good works, he seemed to be carried with wings in the path of every virtue. Whatever he did he used to say to himself, “What will this avail me to eternal life?” Such was his ardor for prayer, that he found opportunities to practise it in those very circumstances which often make others forget it. When he went out a hunting with the king, his majesty would himself present him with a bow and quiver; but Walthen, giving them to some servant or other person, and withdrawing from the company into the wood, used to hide himself in some secret place amidst the thickets, and there employ the day in prayer, holy meditation, or reading some pious book which he carried in his pocket. The king having one day surprised him in this employment, told the queen at his return that her son was not a man of this world; for he could find no amusement or satisfaction in any of its diversions. By the strictest temperance, the assiduous mortification of his will and senses, and a constant watchfulness over his heart, supported by a life of prayer he kept his passions in due subjection, and enjoyed a happy tranquillity within himself, in the constant and uniform pursuit of virtue.

His purity he carried unsullied by the least stain from his birth into the heavenly paradise. A subtle assault which was made upon him against him virtue, contributed to disgust him entirely with the world. A certain lady of the first rank at court was fallen in love with him, and not daring to discover her passion, she sought to gain his heart insensibly. With this view she sent him one day a present of a rich gold ring in which the stone was a diamond of extraordinary value. Walthen received it as a civility without any further meaning, and innocently put the ring on his finger. Hereupon one of the courtiers said, “Walthen begins to have some regard for the ladies.” This reflection made the saint sensible of the snare, and of the tendency of such presents. He therefore immediately went out of the room, and to prevent the danger of any temptation ensuing, pulled off the ring, and threw it into a great fire, thus gaining a double victory over impurity, and a vain affection to worldly toys. This accident made him stand more upon his guard against the very shadow of dangers; and the consideration of the snares of the world, and of the unprofitableness on many of his moments in it, led him to a resolution of taking shelter in a monastery.

To be removed from the distracting visits of friends, and from the neighborhood of the court, he left Scotland, and made his religious profession among the regular canons of St. Austin, in St. Oswald’s monastery at Nostel, near Pontefract, in Yorkshire. Here he lived concealed from the world, in the company of his crucified Jesus, humbling himself so much the lower in proportion as he had been exalted above others in the world. Kings and the great ones of the world were astonished at his humility; but his colleagues in a religious state were more surprised to see one come out of a court already perfect in the maxims of the cross. He was after some time promoted to the holy order of priesthood; and, agreeably to his inclinations, always to attend the altar, was appointed sacristan. He was soon after, against his will, chosen prior of Kirkham, a numerous house of that Order in the same county. Considering the obligations he then lay under for the sanctification of others as well as for his own, in this dignity he redoubled his fervor in the practice of austerity, regularity, and every virtue. Nothing appeared in him more remarkable than his devotion, and the abundance of tears with which his prayers were usually accompanied, especially when he was celebrating the divine mysteries. In saying mass one Christmas-day, after the consecration of the bread, he was ravished in the contemplation of that divine mystery of God made man, and melting into tears of love and tender devotion, was favored with a wonderful vision. The divine Word, who on that day had made himself visible to mankind by his nativity, was pleased to manifest himself not only to the eyes of faith, but also to the corporal eyes of his servant. The holy man saw in his hands, not the form of bread, but a most amiable infant of ravishing beauty, stretching out its hands as if it had been to embrace him, and looking upon him with a most gracious countenance: in which vision the saint finding himself penetrated with unspeakable sweetness and heavenly delights, paid a thousand adorations to that divine infant whom he could not sufficiently love. When he had laid down the host on the altar he saw only the sacramental form. He could never after remember this favor without tears of sensible joy, sweetness, and love. The saint disclosed this favor only to his confessarius, who after his death told it to several others, and confirmed his testimony that he received the account from the saint himself with an oath. The author says he himself heard it from the mouth of this confessarius, and also from divers Cistercian monks both at Melross and at Holm-Coltrum.1 Whilst a canon of Kirkham was saying mass, a spider fell into the chalice. The prior being called made the sign of the cross over the chalice, then bid the priest drink it; which he did without receiving any harm, or feeling any repugnance.*

Walthen, moved by the great reputation of the Cistercian Order, was very desirous to embrace it: in which resolution he was encouraged by the advice of his friend St. Aëlred, then abbot of Rievalle. Accordingly our saint took the habit of that Order at Wardon, a Cistercian convent in Bedfordshire. The regular canons, who both loved and honored him, used all endeavors to retain him among them. Earl Simon, the saint’s brother, alleging that the austerities of this latter Older were too severe for his tender constitution, employed both the secular and ecclesiastical power to oblige him to quit it, and even threatened to destroy the monastery if he remained in it. The monks therefore sent the saint to Rievalle, their mother-house in Yorkshire, that he might be further out of the earl’s reach. During the year of his novitiate St. Walthen suffered much more from a most grievous interior trial than he had done from the persecutions of his kindred, or of the canons of Kirkham; but from these afflictions his pure soul reaped infinite spiritual advantages; for St. John Climacus observes,2 that God prepares souls for his choicest graces by interior crosses, by which all earthly dross in their affections is most perfectly purged, their constancy is put to the test, and occasions are afforded them for the exercises of the most difficult and heroic virtues. It was thus by an effect of the divine mercy, that the saint fell into a state of spiritual dryness, and interior desolation and darkness of soul.

Though the canons allow a religious man to pass from one Order to another that is more perfect and austere, he began, nevertheless, to be perplexed with scruples and anxious fears whether he ought not rather to have remained in his first vocation, and whether the extraordinary austerities of this new Order were not above his strength. His body seemed to sink under the weight of his watchings, fasts, and labor, every exercise seemed heavy and grievous, his soul was drowned in bitterness, and he seemed in vain to seek comfort and strength by prayer. Had the enemy prevailed over him by this means to become more remiss in that holy exercise, the saint would have sunk under the trial; but notwithstanding the bitterness and heaviness with which he was overwhelmed so as to seem to himself almost incapable of prayer, the divine grace supported and directed him still to persevere, and even to redouble his fervor in continually laying before the eyes of his heavenly Father, the God of all Consolation, the anguish of his heart, and his earnest desires to raise up his soul to praise and love him, with his faithful servants, and to implore his mercy, though of all creatures the most unworthy. Nevertheless his fears and inward darkness and agonies continued still to increase; but after a long conflict with this painful enemy, in great anguish of soul, he one day cast himself on the ground, as he had often done, to pray with the utmost earnestness, and in that posture poured forth a flood of tears, begging of God that he would vouchsafe to direct him that he might follow his holy will, to which he had always desired to consecrate himself without reserve. He no sooner rose from his prayer, but he found the thick mists of darkness, which had overwhelmed his mind, scattered, and his soul suddenly filled with light, fervor, and an inexpressible holy joy, in which he sung the praises of the divine mercy with an interior jubilation which seemed to give him, in some degree, a foretaste of the joys of the blessed. From that moment he found the yoke of the Lord sweet and easy, and used to repeat that saying of St. Bernard, that worldlings who thought the austerities of devout persons hard, saw their crosses but saw not the interior unction of the Holy Ghost by which they are made light.* Neither do they know the strength or wings which the fervor of divine love gives to the soul, nor the vigor and comfort with which the view and hope of an immortal crown inspires her.

Walthen, four years after his profession, was chosen Abbot of Melross, a great monastery in the marches of Scotland, on the river Tweed, for some time the burying-place of the noble family of Douglas. The saint took upon him this charge with great reluctance, and only because he was compelled by obedience. In correcting others he tempered severity with sweetness, so as to make them love the correction itself, and to gain their heart to their duty. After the person had done penance for a fault, he would never suffer it to be any more mentioned, saying this was to act a worse part than that of the devils, who forget our sins when they have been wiped away by sincere repentance. In hearing confessions he often, out of tender compassion, wept abundantly over the penitent, and by moving words softened the hearts of the most hardened sinners to compunction and tears. If he perceived that he was fallen into the smallest failing of inadvertence he had recourse immediately to the remedy of confession, accused himself of it with many tears, and caused another severely to discipline his bare shoulders, often to blood. By the continual exercises of penance, and deep compunction, he endeavored always to obtain the grace by which his soul might be cleansed more and more perfectly, that he might at prayer present himself without spot before God, who is infinite purity and infinite sanctity, and whose eyes cannot bear the least iniquity or uncleanness. Yet a certain cheerfulness and spiritual joy always shone on his pale countenance. His words were animated with a divine fire, and sweet unction, by which they penetrated the hearts of those that heard him; his voice was sweet and soft, but weak and low, which was owing to the feebleness of his body, and to his assiduous singing of psalms, which was usually accompanied with many tears. He founded the monastery of Kylos in Scotland, and that of Holm-Coltrum in Cumberland. By his great alms he supported the poor of the whole country round his abbey to a considerable distance. In a famine which happened in 1154, about four thousand poor strangers came and settled in huts near Melross, for whom he provided necessary sustenance for several months. He sometimes induced his monks to content themselves with half their pittances of bread, in order to supply the poor. He twice multiplied bread miraculously, and sometimes gave away at once all the cattle and sheep that belonged to his monastery.

His humility and love of holy poverty appeared in all his actions. In travelling he would carry the baggage of his companions, and sometimes that of servants. He went once to wait on king Stephen in England, about certain affairs of his community, carrying a bundle on his back. His brother Simon, who was with the king, was moved with indignation at the sight, and said to his majesty, “See how this brother of mine, and cousin to your majesty, disgraces his family.” “Not so,” said the king; “but if we understand what the grace of God is, he does us and all his kindred a very great honor.” He readily granted all the saint desired, begged his blessing, and after his departure expressed how much he was moved by his example to a contempt of the world for the love of God. In 1154 Walthen was chosen archbishop of St. Andrew’s; but by his tears and repeated assurances that the weight of such a burden would in a short time put an end to his life, he prevailed with his superior St. Aëlred not to oblige him by his command to accept that dignity. Our saint cured many sick by his prayers, but studied always to disguise whatever appeared miraculous. He was favored with frequent visions and ecstasies. In one of these, whilst he was praying with ardent sighs that he might be so happy speedily to behold the King of kings manifested in his beauty and glory, and admitted to praise him, with his whole heart, in the company of all the saints, he saw the heavens opened, and God discovered to him the bright thrones in which his saints are seated in that kingdom which he had prepared for them from the beginning. The saint, who never ceased to excite in his monks the desire and expectation of eternal life, in order to encourage them in their penitential courses, in one of those exhortations mentioned this vision in the third person as of another; but at last by surprise spoke in the first person; which he no sooner perceived, but, cutting his discourse short, he withdrew with many tears, much afflicted for the word which had escaped him. The possession of God was he object of his longing and earnest desires night and day; and these were more vehement in the time of consolations than amidst crosses and in adversity. The contemplation of that day which would drown him in the boundless ocean of eternal joy, was the comfort and support of his soul during his last tedious and lingering illness, in which he bore great pains with the most edifying silence and patience. Having exhorted his brethren to charity and regular discipline, and received the last sacraments, lying on sackcloth and ashes, he calmly gave up his soul to God on the 3d of August, 1160. His body was found uncorrupt thirteen, and again forty-eight years after his death. Several miracles wrought by his relics and intercession are recorded by the authors of his life. His name occurs in the English Calendars, and in those of his Order. See his authentic life written by a disciple, extant in the Bollandists. See also Manriquez in the Annals of his Order, and Le Nain, t. 2. John de Fordun, Scoti-chronicon,1. 6, c. 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 25, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 34, &c. t. 3.

AUGUST 4 — ST. DOMINIC, CONFESSOR FOUNDER OF THE FRIAR PREACHERS

From the Chronicle of the Origin of this Order, compiled by B. Jordan, of Saxony; also from the five lives of this saint, all written by contemporary grave authors, namely F. Theodoric of Apolda, Constantine bishop of Orvieto, Bartholomew bishop of Trent, F. Humbert, and Nicholas Trevet. See his life, elegantly compiled by F. Touron; likewise F. James Echard, the learned French Dominican, De Script Ord. S. Dominici, t. 1. Mamachi, &c.

A. D. 1221.

ST. DOMINIC was born, in 1170, at Calaruega, anciently called Calaroga, in Old Castille, in the diocese of Osma. He was of the illustrious house of the Guzmans, which has been frequently ennobled by alliances with divers royal families, and which still flourishes divided into several branches, of which some are grandees of the first class, as the dukes of Medina Sidonia, and of Medina de las Torres; the marquises of Azdales, of Monte Alegre, &c. the counts of Niebla, of Olivares, &c. The duke of Medina-Sidonia, who is chief of this noble house, is acknowledged patron of the whole Order of St. Dominic. This honorable pedigree of our saint has been demonstrated by Echard,1 Touron,2 and Bremond,3 from the archives of Bologna drawn up in the saint’s life-time, and from other undoubted monuments of the same age in which he lived; though a Christian derives his true nobility from his spiritual regeneration and grace, and it is the chief glory of the saints that they despised all worldly advantages for Christ. St. Dominic’s father was called Felix of Guzman, and his mother was Jane of Asa, which family continues still in a flourishing condition in Spain. Their eldest son, Antony, was a priest, and devoted himself to the service of the poor in a hospital, in which employment he died in the odor of sanctity. Mames, the second, embraced our saint’s Order, and followed him in his missions. Dominic was the third, and had younger brothers. His mother, whilst she was with child of him, dreamed that she brought forth a whelp which carried in its mouth a burning torch, with which it set the whole world on fire. After his birth, it was her first care to procure him speedily the grace of baptism, in which sacrament he received the name of Dominic, in honor of a holy abbot called Dominic of Silos. By her early instructions he was taught happily to turn the first dawning of his reason towards his Creator. Such was his fervor in his childhood, that he accustomed himself to rise often in the night to pray, and, leaving his soft bed, used to take his rest lying on the hard boards. His uncle by the mother, the holy archpriest of Gumiel, was his first preceptor. He assisted with this uncle at all the divine offices; and the rest of his time which his studies and other necessary duties left free, he devoted entirely to private prayer, serious or pious reading, and charitable employments; spending none of his moments in the usual amusements of youth, which yet may be sanctified by moderation and a good intention, inasmuch as some exercise is necessary in that tender age to maintain the vigor both of the body and mind.

The saint at fourteen years of age was sent to the public schools of Palentia, which were soon after transferred to Salamanca, where the university, which is the most famous and best provided in all Spain, was erected in the middle of the thirteenth century. Dominic here laid in a solid stock of learning, and became a great proficient in rhetoric, philosophy, and divinity. He was well versed in the knowledge of the holy scriptures and fathers. Instructed by the oracle of the Holy Ghost that the spirit of the Lord rests only on chaste souls, he watched with the utmost attention over his heart, and its avenues, which are the senses; these he kept in constant subjection by austere mortification. Always walking in the presence of God he made his conversation even with the virtuous very short. Boards or the floor were the only bed on which he took his rest. The death of his mother was a sensible affliction to him, but he improved it to a more perfect disengagement of his heart from the world. From her example he had learned a tender devotion to the holy Mother of God, and an extraordinary affection for the poor; to assist whom, in a famine, he not only gave all his money and goods, but sold even his books and his own writings and commentaries. This was in the twenty-first year of his age. So heroic a charity touched the hearts of all the masters, scholars, and citizens; the latter opened their granaries, and the former emptied their purses to supply the necessitous. Thus Dominic, yet a scholar, became by his example a preacher to his masters. The charity with which his heart was moved towards all that were in distress seemed to have no bounds. A poor woman one day begged of him with many tears and alms to redeem her brother who was made a slave by the Moors. The saint’s heart seemed rent with compassion, and having already given away all his money to others, he said to her, “I have neither gold nor silver; but am able to work. Offer me to the Moor in exchange for your brother. I am willing to be his slave.” The woman, astonished at such a proposal, durst not accept it; but Dominic’s charity was not less before God. As soon as he had finished his studies and taken his degrees, he explained the holy scriptures in the schools, and preached the word of God to the people at Palentia with wonderful reputation and success. Every one looked upon the man of God as an oracle, consulted him in all doubts, whether of learning or of conscience, and acquiesced in his decisions.

Azebedo, a zealous pastor, being made bishop of Osma in 1198, reformed his chapter, introducing into it regular canons of St. Austin, and invited St. Dominic, who was a native of his diocess, to accept a canonry. The disciple of Jesus Christ, believing that he heard the voice of God himself in that of his pastor, left Palentia, and received the habit of the regular canons, being then twenty-eight years old.* Blessed Jordan, who was familiarly acquainted with St. Dominic, informs us, that the holy canon had no sooner taken possession of his prebend, than he began to shine as a bright star in the church of Osma. He practised all the austerities of the ancient fathers of the desert, and attained to that purity of heart and perfect disengagement from creatures which made up the character of those great saints. He read the conferences of Cassian, and made them the rule of his conduct. Whilst he thus labored to make his own soul pleasing to God, the fire of divine love was daily more and more enkindled in his breast, and he was consumed with an ardent zeal for the salvation of infidels and sinners. To move the divine mercy to regard them with pity, he spent often whole nights in the church at prayer, watering the steps of the altar with abundance of tears, in which he was heard to sigh and groan before the Father of mercy, in the earnestness and deep affliction of his heart; never ceasing to beg with the greatest ardor, the grace to gain some of those unhappy souls to Christ. He studied to conceal from the eyes of men as much as possible the holy severity with which he treated his own body; but its effects appeared sensibly in the decay of his strength. His bishop therefore ordered him to mix a little wine with the water which he drank. He still found means to redouble the macerations of his flesh, as he saw the loss of souls and the offences of God multiplied by the growth of heresy and impiety. Since the reformation of the chapter, the titles and offices of dean and provost were changed into those of prior and subprior. The bishop himself was prior and St. Dominic subprior, or the immediate head and superior of that body. He also assisted his prelate in the government and reformation of the whole diocess, and preached in it assiduously with incredible zeal and fruit during five years.

Alphonsus IX. king of Castille, chose the bishop of Osma to go ambassador into La Marche to negotiate a match between the daughter of the earl of that country, and his son prince Ferdinand. Some take this La Marche for a province in the north of Germany or in Sweden; others for the territory of that name in Limosin in France. The bishop took Dominic with him. In their way they passed through Languedoc, which was then filled with the abominations of the heresy of the Albigenses. He in whose house they lodged at Toulouse was tainted with it. St. Dominic, pierced to the heart with compassion for the unhappy condition of his soul, in that one night made him a perfect convert. The treaty of marriage being concluded, the ambassadors returned to Spain; but were sent back with a sumptuous equipage to conduct the princess thither. They arrived at her father’s house only to assist at the melancholy ceremony of her funeral. Being desirous to devote themselves to labor for the conversion of souls deprived of the light of faith, they sent back their equipage into Spain, and went themselves to Rome to ask of pope Innocent III. leave either to stay in Languedoc to labor among the Albigenses, or to go to preach the gospel to the infidels in the north. His holiness, charmed with their zeal and virtue, exhorted them rather to choose the neighboring harvest, and to oppose a heresy which threatened the Church with the utmost fury. The holy bishop begged he might be allowed to resign his episcopal see in Spain. This his holiness would not consent to, but gave him leave to stay two years in Languedoc. In their return they made a visit of devotion to Citeaux, a place then renowned for the sanctity of the monks that inhabited it. They arrived at Montpellier towards the end of the year 1205, where they met several Cistercian abbots, who were commissioned by the pope to oppose the reigning heresies. The archbishop and Dominic proposed that, to labor with success, they ought to employ persuasion and example rather than terror; and that their preachers should imitate the poverty of Christ and the apostles, travelling on foot, without money, equipage, or provisions. The abbots readily came into the proposal, and sent away their horses and servants.* These missionaries saw the dangers and difficulties that attended their undertaking, but they were persuaded they should be abundantly recompensed for all they could suffer, if they could be so happy as to become instrumental in rescuing one soul from the slavery of sin, or to lay down their life in such a cause. The prodigious growth of impiety in that country, and the obstinacy of the disease moved them to compassion, but did not terrify them, though the evils seemed extreme. The heretics, not content to fill their own country with terror and desolation, overran several other provinces in troops of four, five, or eight thousand men, pillaged the countries, and massacred the priests, flaying some alive and scourging others to death; in plundering the churches, they broke and profaned the sacred vessels, and sacrilegiously converted the ornaments of the altars into women’s clothes. King Philip Augustus cut in pieces ten thousand of these banditti in the province of Berri, they having penetrated into the very centre of his kingdom.4 Dominic undertook to stem the torrent by his feeble voice; and God was pleased to make his preaching the instrument of his grace to strike the rocks, to open the uncircumcised ears, and to soften the hardened hearts of many which even the thunder of a St. Bernard had not been able to move. The conversion of many most obstinate sinners may be regarded as the greatest of our saint’s miracles.

The first conference of the missionaries with the heretics was held in a borough near Montpellier, and lasted eight days; during which, each day several remarkable conversions were wrought. The apostolic men preached after this eight days at Beziers, where they gained several, though the far greater number shut their ears against the Catholic faith. Diego and Dominic proceeded thence to Carcassone and Montreal. At this last place they disputed during fifteen days with the four chiefs of the Albigensian sect, by which conference a hundred and fifty persons were brought over to the truth. St. Dominic drew up in writing a short exposition of the Catholic faith, with proofs of each article from the New Testament. This writing he gave to the heretics to examine. Their ministers and chiefs, after much altercation about it, agreed to throw it into the fire, saying, that if it burned, they would regard the doctrine which it contained as false. Being cast thrice into the flames it was not damaged by them. Nevertheless only one officer that was present, and afterward publicly attested the miracle, was converted by it. This, Peter of Vaux-Sernay5 assures us he heard St. Dominic himself relate. At Fanjaux the bishop and St. Dominic were me by Arnold, abbot of Citeaux, and twelve other abbots, and another great disputation was there held with the heretics before arbitrators. The judges and ministers here proposed to cast the same writing of St. Dominic into the fire. All present agreed to this trial, and a great fire being made in the middle of the company, it was again thrice thrown into it, and as often taken but without receiving any damage. This miracle is recorded by Jordan, and by the ancient writers of St. Dominic’s life; and Theodoric of Apolda, Bernard Guidonis, and F. Humbert, expressly assure us that this miracle at Fanjaux must not be confounded with the like which had been wrought before at Montreal. This latter was performed in the castle of Raymund Durfort, whose posterity built in it a chapel in honor of St. Dominic, and gave this castle to his Order.6 The fruit of this public miracle was the conversion of great numbers of heretics of both sexes.

St. Dominic saw with grief that many children of Catholic parents, for want of the means of procuring a proper education, were neglected in their youth, or fell into the hands of those that corrupted their morals or their faith. To cut off the source of this fatal disorder, being assisted by the liberalities of several bishops, he founded the numerous nunnery of our Lady of Prouille, near Fanjaux, in 1206, which he put under the rule of St. Austin, adding certain particular constitutions, which were approved by Gregory IX. This house became a sanctuary to many ladies who desired to find a secure retreat from the corruption of the world, and a nursery of religion and piety for those who were afterward to encounter its dangers. This monastery is regarded to this day as the chief or mother-house of all the nuns of this Order. In 1207 a great conference was opened between the Catholic preachers and the heretics, in the palace of Raymund Roger, count of Foix, who treated both parties in their turns at his table. His countess and one of his sisters followed the Waldenses; his other sister adhered to the Albigenses. The issue of this disputation was the conversion of a great number of heretics of distinction, and of him who had been appointed judge or arbitrator, a man of learning, who had been a warm abettor of the sect of the Albigenses. After this conference the Cistercians returned to their monasteries, and the holy bishop of Osma to his diocess, the two years allowed him by the pope being almost expired. The heretics themselves had a great opinion of his sanctity, and called him one of the predestinate. He died soon after his arrival at Osma.

He had been almost two years superior of the mission in Languedoc, in which charge, at his departure, he appointed St. Dominic his successor, to whom pope Innocent III. confirmed the same in 1207. The saint, vested with this authority, established wholesome regulations to be observed by the zealous preachers who labored with him. Some date from this time, but improperly, the institution of his Order. The murder of the pope’s legate, Peter of Castelnau or Chateauneuf, who was assassinated by a servant of the count of Toulouse and another ruffian, on the 15th of January, 1208, and other outrages committed by the heretics, set all Christendom in a flame, and an army was set on foot to extirpate the authors of these violences. St. Dominic had no share in those transactions, and made use of no other arms to repulse injuries than those of meekness and patience. He never complained of any affronts or evils which he received, courageously encountered every danger wherever the good of souls called him, being desirous to glorify God by shedding his blood in his cause if called to such a happiness, and he studied only to procure all the good in his power to those who hated and persecuted him. A certain heretic, who was unknown to the saint, offered himself one day to be his guide; but led him through rough ways over stones and briers, so that the saint’s feet were much wounded, for he always walked barefoot. The meekness with which Dominic received the affront, and the joy with which he comforted his treacherous guide when he saw him in confusion, calling his blood the subject of his triumph, so moved the heretic that he became a Catholic. At another time the heretics posted two assassins to murder the saint, at a place between Prouille and Fanjaux, which to this day, from that black attempt, retains the name of Al siccari, but be escaped their hands. Afterward some of that party asked the saint what he would have done if he had met them: “I would have thanked God,” said he, “and would have begged as a favor that my blood might have been let out drop by drop, and my limbs lopt off one by one, to prolong my torments, and enhance my crown;” with which answer his enemies were exceedingly affected.* A poor man, infected with the heresy of the Albigenses, confessed the abominations of that sect, but declared he could not abandon those upon whom he depended for his daily subsistence. St. Dominic hearing him make this answer, was moved with so tender a compassion for a soul upon the brink of perishing, that he offered to sell himself for a slave to procure this man means for his subsistence, that he might serve God; and he would have done it, had not God furnished the poor man with a provision otherwise, says B. Jordan and Theodoric. When the army of the crusade approached, the saint redoubled his earnestness among an obstinate people, and saved many. When he went among the crusards, the disorders, vices, and ignorance of the mysteries of faith and duties of a Christian life, which he found in many who had joined that army merely for the sake of plunder, moved his compassion and zeal, and he labored among them with no less diligence than he had done among the Albigenses. The count of Montfort was so taken with his sanctity, that he thought he could never give him sufficient marks of his affection and esteem. The condition of this disjointed army was such, that the troops of which it was composed returned home as they pleased, after having served forty days, and the general who sometimes saw two hundred thousand men under his banner, was often so much abandoned as to be scarce able to assemble a thousand. At a time when he had with him only twelve hundred men, he was attacked by an army of above a hundred thousand, some say two hundred thousand: yet St. Dominic assured him God would grant him a glorious victory. The count of Montfort threw himself into Muret, a small fortress, and in a sally on the 12th of September, 1213, by his incredible valor and address, routed and dispersed this great army, which left the king of Arragon and sixteen thousand men dead in the field. This prediction was the only share which the original historians mention St. Dominic to have had in this war, whatever certain moderns with Baillet may affirm. The continuators of Bollandus pretend, that in quality of inquisitor he delivered those among the Albigenses that were taken, and persisted obstinate, to the secular judges, that they might put them to death. But this is mere conjecture founded on mistake, as the learned fathers Echard7 and Touron8 have shown. St. Dominic never appears to have any way concurred to the execution of any of those unhappy persons that then suffered. The authors of his life mention, that by his credit and entreaties, he saved the life of a young man who was going to the place where he was to be burnt, the saint assuring the judges that he would die in the Catholic faith; which was verified when, some years after, he became a zealous Catholic, and made a happy end in the holy Order of our saint. But the original historians mentions no other arms to have been used by him against the heretics than those of instruction, patience, penance, fasting, watching, tears, and prayer.

So ardent was his zeal for the salvation of souls, that he was consumed with a burning desire to sacrifice for them his liberty, health, and life. Inured to continual labors, he was indefatigable in his apostolic functions; and the greatest difficulties, far from abating, seemed to raise his courage, and to give new vigor to his heroic soul. To his incredible labors he added the austerities of penance. He often allowed himself, in his fasts, especially during all Lent, no other nourishment than bread and water; and spending with his companion a great part of the night in prayer, he reserved only a short time for rest, which he took lying on a board. Regardless of dangers, he never discontinued his missions or preaching among the Albigenses, how much soever their rage was exasperated. He often boldly exposed himself to the most cruel torments and death among them; he even courageously met a band of ruffians near Carcassone, who were still reeking with the blood of a Cistercian abbot and monk whom they had barbarously slain. But God was his protector, and prayer his shield and strength. During the great battle of Muret, St. Dominic was not in the field, as some moderns have pretended, but in the church, within the fortress, at his prayers.9 The same was his practice on other like occasions. Theodoric, Stephen of Sasenhac, and others relate, that when St. Dominic was employed on his mission at Castres, the abbot of St. Vincent’s one day desired his company at dinner, After sermon, the saint continued at his devotions in the church so long, that he quite forgot the necessities of the body, which he was frequently apt to do. At the hour of dinner, the abbot sent a clerk to seek for him. The messenger knew the church to be the place where he was generally to be found, and going thither, saw him ravished in an ecstasy, raised several cubits above the ground, and without motion. He contemplated him a considerable time in that posture, and waited till the saint, coming to himself, gently fell to the ground, before he durst approach him.

St. Dominic, during his apostolical labors in Languedoc, instituted the celebrated devotion of the Rosary, consisting of the recital of fifteen Our Fathers and a hundred and fifty Hail Marys, in honor of the fifteen principal mysteries of the life and sufferings of our Blessed Saviour, and of his holy Mother. The divine and most excellent prayer which our Redeemer, who promises to grant all that we request in his name, has drawn up as the form of our supplications, contains the petitions of all those things we are to ask or hope for of God, and comprises the exercise of all the sublime virtues, by which we pay to him the rational homage of our affections. In the Angelical Salutation are comprised our praises and thanks to God for the great mysteries of the incarnation and of our redemption, the source of all our good; and these praises are expressed in words of which the Holy Ghost himself was the author, which, though addressed to the Virgin Mary, contain much more the praises of her Divine Son, whom we acknowledge the cause of all hers and our happiness. The earnest intercession of this Mother of God, and of mercy, is also implored in our behalf both at present and for the tremendous moment of our departure hence; and to move hers and her Divine Son’s compassion, we acknowledge our own deep sense of our miseries, which we display before the eyes of heaven under the extensive and most expressive humbling title of sinners. These prayers are so disposed in the Rosary,* as to comprise an abstract of the history of our blessed Redeemer’s holy life and sufferings, the great object of the continual devotion and meditation of Christians; for each mystery whereof we praise God, and through it ask his graces and blessings for ourselves and others. The ignorance of many, and the blasphemies of others among the Albigenses, with regard to these most sacred mysteries, moved the zealous and apostolic servant of God to teach the people to honor them by an easy method equally adapted to persons of the weakest understanding, and to those that are most learned, or the most advanced in the exercises of sublime contemplation, who find in it a most inexhausted fund of the highest acts of faith, hope, divine love, praise, and thanksgiving, with a supplication for succor in all spiritual and corporal necessities, which they always repeat with fresh ardor. St. Dominic afterward established the same method of devotion at Bologna and in other places.

The saint, after having founded his nunnery of Prouille, established an institute afterward called his third Order, in which the strictest regularity is observed, but no extraordinary austerities are prescribed. Some persons of this third Order live in monasteries, and are properly nuns; others live in their own houses, and endeavor to sanctify their work and the duties of a civil life by certain exercises of regularity and devotion, and by dedicating part of their time to the works of mercy, especially in serving the poor in hospitals and prisons10 St. Dominic had spent ten years in preaching in Languedoc, when, in 1215, he founded his religious Order of Preaching Friars, the plan of which he had meditated some time before. He had till then worn the habit of a regular canon of St. Austin, and followed that rule. But he earnestly desired to revive an apostolic spirit in the ministers of the altar, the want of which in many was a subject of great scandal to the people, and a great source of the overflowings of vice and heresy. This spirit is founded on a sincere contempt of the world, and a perfect disinterestedness; for so long as the love of the world, or a relish for its vanity, delights, and riches, keeps possession of a heart, there can be no room for the Holy Ghost. The fences by which this spirit had been formerly maintained in the clergy, were then by custom easily broken through by many without scruple; wherefore he conceived a design of raising others that might be stronger. With this view he established an Order of religious men, not like the ancient monks of the desert, who were laymen and merely contemplatives, but who, with the strictest retirement and assiduous exercises of contemplation, should join a close application to sacred studies, and all the functions of a pastoral life, especially that of preaching. He prescribed austere fasts, perpetual abstinence from flesh (which the reformed monasteries of this Order still observe), and the most severe poverty, ordaining that his friars should receive their coarse subsistence from the alms of the faithful, though their houses are not forbidden, like the Franciscans, to enjoy in common small rents in money. The principal aim of the saint by this institution was to multiply in the Church zealous preachers, whose spirit and example might be a means more easily to spread the light of faith, and the fire of divine charity, and to assist the pastors in healing the wounds which the Church had received by the inundation of heresy and vice.

St. Dominic for a long time recommended his design to God by fervent prayer, and communicated it to the bishops of Languedoc and Provence, who all applauded the project, and pressed him to hasten the execution. Every one judged him worthy to be the father of preachers, who was their perfect model. Sixteen of his fellow-missionaries came readily into his project; and Peter Cellani, one of this number, gave some houses he was possessed of in Toulouse, in which they formed themselves into a regular community, under the protection of the bishop. This was the first convent of the Order. To establish it the founder was obliged to go to Rome, whither he accompanied Fulco, the bishop of Toulouse, who was called to assist at the fourth general council of Lateran. Pope Innocent III. who had then governed the Church eighteen years, received the saint with great demonstrations of kindness, on account, of the reputation of his sanctity, and the recommendation of his bishop. He had himself drawn up a decree which he inserted in the tenth chapter of the council, to enforce the obligation of preaching, and the necessity of choosing for pastors men who are powerful in words and works, who will instruct and edify their flocks both by example and preaching, a neglect of which was the source of the ignorance, disorders, and heresies that then reigned in several provinces. Nevertheless, though the saint’s design was most agreeable to his holiness, Theodoric the bishop of Orvieto and Vincent of Beauvois say, that he at first made some difficulty to approve his Order, upon late complaints that too great a multiplication of Orders would bring confusion, and that it was better to reform those that were already established. But the same authors add, that the night following, the pope dreamed he saw the Lateran church in danger of falling, and that St. Dominic stept in, and supported it with his shoulders. Be that as it will, B. Jordan and F. Humbert assure us, that the pope approved the new Order by word of mouth, bidding the founder draw up the constitutions, and lay them before him.

The saint was present at the fourth council of Lateran, which, though very numerous and splendid, lasted only three weeks, having condemned the errors of the Albigenses and other heretics, framed several canons for the reformation of manners, and taken into consideration a new crusade for the recovery of the Holy Land, which had been lately conquered by the infidels a second time. The twenty-first is the famous canon which enjoins that all the faithful who are arrived to years of discretion, shall confess all their sins at least once a year to their own proper priest, and shall receive the eucharist at least every Easter, unless, with the advice of their proper priest, they abstain from it for some time, upon some reasonable account. The thirteenth prohibits the erecting of any new religious Order. The council, which consisted of four hundred and twelve bishops, and near eight hundred abbots, priors, and deputies of absent prelates, broke up about the end of November, 1215, and St. Dominic arrived at Toulouse the beginning of the following year. After a mature consultation with his sixteen colleagues, of whom eight were Frenchmen, seven Spaniards, and one Englishman, he made choice of the rule of the canons of the great St. Austin, who was himself an eminent preacher. He added certain particular constitutions, and borrowed from the Order of Premontré the rule of observing perpetual abstinence from flesh, and a rigorous fast from the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross to Easter. Pope Innocent III., famous for his great actions, and for several learned and pious books which he composed, died on the 16th July, 1216, having filled the pontifical chair from January, 1198. Honorius III. was chosen in his place. This change retarded St. Dominic’s second journey to Rome; and, in the meantime, he finished his first convent at Toulouse, to which the bishop gave the church of St. Romanus. The bishop of Fermo in Italy, a great admirer of our saint’s virtue, also gave him at the same time the church of St. Thomas, with a convent for his order, in that city.

St. Dominic arrived at Rome with a copy of his rules in September, 1216. He found access to his holiness difficult for some time, but was encouraged by a vision recorded by Theodoric, and copied by Fleury.11 Pope Honorius III. confirmed his Order and its constitutions by two bulls, both dated on the 26th of December, the same year. He detained the saint several months in Rome, to preach in that city; which commission he executed with considerable applause and success. He put the pope in mind that several persons that attended his court, could not seek instructions abroad, and therefore a domestic master of the sacred studies in his palace would be of great advantage. His holiness hereupon created the office of Master of the Sacred Palace, who by his place is the pope’s domestic theologian, assists at all consistories, whether public or private, confers the degree of doctor at court, approves all theses and books, and nominates the pope’s preachers. If he is absent from court, he has a right to substitute another in his place. Pope Honorius obliged St. Dominic to take upon himself that charge, which has been ever since committed to one of his Order. The saint at Rome dictated comments on the epistles of St. Paul, which are much commended by several writers of that age, though they are now lost. He had learned from St. Chrysostom what an inexhausted treasure of piety and spiritual knowledge a Christian preacher will draw from assiduous meditation on the inspired writings of this apostle, which he strongly recommended to his religious, and he carried always a copy of that sacred book in his pocket. When not employed in public functions nor necessary duties, he was always to be found in the church, or in retirement. When out of necessity he conversed with others, his discourse was usually only on God, and always seasoned with so much unction and prudence that worldlings never thought it importunate; and pious persons sought his conversation with extreme eagerness. With the consent of his holiness he returned to Toulouse in May, and spent some time in forming his religious brethren in the practice of the most perfect maxims of an interior life, the most necessary qualification in preachers of the divine word. He exhorted them strenuously to promote the study of literature in his Order, to attend in the first place to the sanctification of their own souls, and to remember they were the successors of the apostles in establishing everywhere the kingdom of Christ. He added excellent instructions on humility, a perfect distrust in themselves, and an entire confidence in God alone, by which they were to stand invincible under afflictions and persecutions, and courageously to carry on the war in which they were engaged against the world and the powers of hell. After this discourse on the feast of the Assumption of our Lady he dismissed some of his religious to Spain and Portugal, and some to Paris, appointing F. Matthew superior among these latter, and sending with him his own brother Manez de Guzman. The extra ordinary reputation of Saint Dominic and his preaching friars drew many learned doctors and other eminent men into this new Order, and the saint settled convents at Lyons, Montpellier, Bayonne, &c.

St. Dominic went again to Rome in 1217, and the pope desiring that his Order should have a house in that city, gave him the church of St. Sixtus; and whilst a convent was building there, the saint, by order of his holiness, read lectures of theology both in the palace and in the city, and preached in St. Peter’s church with such eloquence and zeal as drew on him the attention and admiration of the whole city. The many illustrious miracles by which God honored his ministry in that city, procured him the name of the Thaumaturgus of that age. Among others, Theodoric relates,12 that a certain gentlewoman named Gutadona, coming one day home from hearing his sermon, found her little child dead. In her grief she took him in her arms out of the cradle, and carrying him to St. Sixtus’s, laid him at the feet of the saint. She said nothing; but her sorrow spoke without words. The servant of God was moved to compassion, and after saying a fervent prayer, made the sign of the cross on the child, and restored him to life. The pope would have published this miracle in the pulpit; but the tears, entreaties, and confusion of the saint prevented him. St. Dominic likewise raised, whole and sound, a mason who had been crushed to death by the fall of a vault in building the convent of St. Sixtus. He restored to health a religious man, the procurator of his convent, whilst the brethren were reciting by his bedside the prayers appointed for one in the agony. The bishop of Orvieto assures us, that he had the account of this miracle from the mouth of the person who had been thus miraculously delivered from the gates of death, and recovered in a moment a state of perfect health which he long enjoyed, and of which he made a very good use.13

St. Dominic, besides many other miracles, raised a third man to life in this monastery of St. Sixtus, in the presence of a great multitude of honorable persons. This was the young lord Napoleon. The fact is related by Theodoric of Apolda,14 F. Humbert,15 a third very ancient historian quoted by F. Echard,16 John Longinus,17 Malvenda, and many others, and happened on the following occasion:—Several nuns lived in Rome without keeping enclosure, and almost without regularity, some dispersed in small monasteries, others in the houses of their parents or friends; for, before the council of Trent, strict perpetual enclosure was not always a necessary part of that state; and though, since that council, Bonacina, and some other canonists, call it an essential law, yet some nunneries in Flanders plead an exemption upon pretence of ancient prescription. Pope Innocent III. had made several attempts to assemble all such nuns then in Rome into one enclosed house, but had not been able, with all his address and authority, to compass it. Honorius III. seeing all other methods miscarry, committed the management of this reformation to St. Dominic. The saint desired that three cardinals should be nominated commissaries with him, in order to facilitate the success of the commission, and his holiness appointed Hugolin dean of the sacred college, Nicholas bishop of Tusculum, and Stephen of Fossa Nuova, cardinal priest of the twelve apostles. St. Dominic, in order to remove several difficulties, offered to leave to these nuns his own monastery of St. Sixtus, which was built and then ready to receive them, and which Innocent III. had formerly offered them; and he undertook to build for his friars a new convent at St. Sabina;* to which the pope willingly agreed. The monastery of St. Mary, beyond the Tiber, was the principal and most obstinate of those that were to be thus reformed. The saint repaired thither with the three cardinals, and exhorted the nuns to a compliance, with such force of reasoning, and so much charity in his heart, that the truth was victorious in his mouth. The abbess first of all, then all the nuns, except one, entered into a voluntary engagement to obey; but the devil was not easily to be triumphed over. No sooner were the commissaries gone but the parents, friends, and protectors of the nuns ran thither, and buzzed it in their ears, that they would repent at leisure of so hasty a step, which could never be recalled; that their house was too ancient and noble, their conduct too virtuous and irreproachable, their privileges of too old a standing to be struck at, and that no authority could oblige them to rules of that sort, to which they had never engaged themselves, and under which they would never have embraced that manner of life. Such discourses were too flattering not to please persons to whom their present independence seemed too dear and valuable a right to be given up. Accordingly the whole community changed their former resolution, and were determined never to comply. St. Dominic gave them some days to reflect, and prevented the pope from having recourse to violent measures, which never gain the heart, and are seldom expedient in duties which must be voluntary; in the meantime he fasted and prayed, recommending the master to God After some days he went again to St. Mary’s, said mass there, and after he had offered the holy sacrifice, made a second discourse to the nuns, mildly reproaching them for their reluctancy, saying, “Can you then repent of a promise you have made to God? can you refuse to give yourselves up to him without reserve, and to serve him with your whole hearts?” He tempered his discourse with that natural sweetness which it was hard for any one to resist, and at the same time, his exhortation was so strong and affecting, that, at the end of it, the abbess and all her nuns confirmed to him by vow their readiness to comply in all things with his holiness’s inclinations. They moreover begged that the saint himself would be their director, and give them his own rule; to which he agreed. Whilst things were making ready for their removal, he shut up the avenues of the cloister, to prevent their friends having access, who might any more endeavor to stagger their resolution.

On Ash Wednesday in 1218, the abbess and some of her nuns went to their new monastery of St. Sixtus, to take possession of it. They were in the chapter house with St. Dominic and the three cardinals above mentioned treating of the rights, revenues, and administration of the new community, when, on a sudden, there came in a person, tearing his hair, and making great lamentation, crying out, that the lord Napoleon, cardinal Stephen’s nephew, was thrown from his horse, and killed by the fall. At this news the afflicted uncle fell speechless with his head upon the breast of St. Dominic, who sat by his side; and his silence was more expressive of his sorrow than any words could have been. The saint endeavored at first to alleviate his grief; then o dered the body of Napoleon to be brought into the house, and bid brother Tancred make an altar ready that he might say mass. When he had prepared himself, the cardinals with their attendants, the abbess with her nuns, the Dominican friars, and a great concourse of people went to the church. The saint, in celebrating the divine mysteries, shed a flood of tears, and while he elevated the body of Christ in his pure hands, was himself in an ecstasy lifted up a whole cubit from the ground, in the sight, and to the amazement of all that were present. The sacrifice being ended, the blessed man went to the corpse, to implore the mercy of God, being followed by all the company; and standing by the body, he disposed the bruised limbs in their proper places; and then betook himself to prayer. After some time, he rose up, and made the sign of the cross over the corpse; then lifting up his hands to heaven, he himself being, by the power of God, at the same time raised from the ground, and suspended in the air, cried out with a loud voice, “Napoleon, I say to thee in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, arise.”* That instant, in the sight of the whole multitude, the young man arose sound and whole. Not only all present, but the whole city, particularly the sacred college, and the pope, gave solemn thanks to the Almighty who, in their unhappy days, had vouchsafed to renew the wonders which he had wrought in the establishment of his church. The Dominican friars having taken possession of the church and convent of St. Sabina, the nuns of St. Mary were settled in that of St. Sixtus before the first Sunday in Lent, receiving a new habit from the hands of St. Dominic, together with his rule. Yvo, bishop of Cracow, and chancellor of Poland, was at Rome when Napoleon was raised to life,† and an eye-witness to that stupendous miracle. He entreated St. Dominic to give the habit of his Order to his two nephews SS. Hyacinth and Ceslas, and to two others of his domestics. The saint sent certain religious brethren to Bologna in 1217, there to lay the foundation of a convent, which has continued ever since one of the most flourishing monasteries in the world.

In 1218 he took a journey from Rome through Languedce into Spain, and founded a famous convent at Segovia, and another at Madrid. He returned to Toulouse in April, 1219, and from thence went to Paris. This seems by all the ancient histories of his life to have been the first visit he made to that city, though Baillet pretends, without grounds, as Touron shows, that he had been there before. He did not stay many weeks in that capital, but gained souls to God by his sermons and instructions, and received into his Order many persons of eminence. Alexander II. king of Scotland, happened to be then at Paris, being come to pay a visit to queen Blanche, the mother of St. Louis. He was much taken with the discourse and sanctity of the holy founder, and obtained of him a promise that he would send some of his religious brethren into Scotland, as Hector Boëtius and bishop Lesley inform us. The saint settled in good order his great convent which was founded in the street of St. Jacques, from which the Dominican friars are usually called in France Jacobins. After this he left Paris, and having founded convents on his road at Avignon, Asti, and Bergamo, arrived at Bologna about the end of summer in 1219,* which city he made from that time his ordinary residence to the end of his life, though he sometimes made excursions to Rome, Florence, and other places. At Bologna, the curate of Saint Nicholas, with the bishop’s consent, bestowed his church on the saint, and he, and several archdeacons, doctors, and eminent professors, entered themselves in his Order. In 1220 he waited on pope Honorius III. at Viterbo, and met St. Francis at Rome in the house of cardinal Hugolin, their common friend, who afterward succeeding Honorius III. under the name of Gregory IX. chose out of the Order of St. Dominic thirty-three bishops, one patriarch of Antioch, and eight legates. St. Dominic had till then taken no other title but that of superior. In 1220 Honorius III. commanded him to be styled general; and the saint returning to Bologna, there held a chapter of all the superiors in his Order, at Whitsuntide the same year.

Wherever the saint travelled, he frequently preached, even on the road; and always with that incredible success which can only be the fruit of continual prayer, animated with the most ardent charity. The greatest part of the night he often spent in churches at the foot of the altars. Though he was superior, he was distinguished in nothing from the lowest among his brethren, but by his more profound humility, and more rigorous abstinence. The people of Bologna attended his sermons with such insatiable avidity, that whilst he stayed there he usually preached every day, and often several times the same day.

The incredible fatigues which this apostolic life cost the servant of God, were no motive with him to abate his continual fasts and other austerities; so different is the spirit of fervor with which the saints are animated, from the sloth of those Christians who seek every shadow of pretence for dispensing themselves even from fasts of precept, to serve as a cloak to cover their sensuality and remissness. The saint, on the contrary, burned with a holy zeal to make his body a perpetual victim of penance; and therefore allowed it no condescension but what necessity made indispensable. He embraced with joy the occasions of suffering which were continual in his ministry, and when, by walking barefoot in the roughest roads, his feet were bruised or sore, he cheerfully called it a part of his penance. To nourish in his heart a perfect contempt of the world, and disengagement from its toys, he was a sincere lover of holy poverty, being sensible how easily a secret glue sticks to the affections amidst riches, vanity, and abundance. A perfect spirit of disinterestedness being essential to virtue, and the strictest obligation of a state in which the preliminary condition is, that the heart be, in the most perfect manner, dead to the world, the holy man was most scrupulous that no pretence should weaken this virtue, which was deeply rooted in his soul. He took all possible precautions to prevent riches ever becoming the portion and the bane of his Order. He strenuously refused to accept large or superfluous donations. When a rich man of Bologna, by a public deed which he had procured secretly to be ratified by the bishop, hoping that the prelate’s authority might overcome the saint’s reluctance, had settled his estate on his convent of St. Nicholas, the holy founder was no sooner apprised of it than he renounced he donation for ever; and, notwithstanding the entreaties of many, publicly tore the deed in presence of the benefactor, as F. Ralph of Faënza,18 an eye-witness, relates. Much more was he an enemy to sordid presents, any indirect ways of procuring them, or that importunity in asking, which is a kind of extortion, and, when for superfluities, a robbery of the poor. That minister of the altar debases the dignity of the sacred character with which he is invested, and of the divine mysteries with the dispensation of which he is honored, who suffers any view of temporal interest to steal into his heart, or secretly to have any share in his motives of action. Such a one is a hireling, and by covetousness loses the fruit of his labors. He who serves the altar is entitled to live by it; but a faithful minister is careful not to lose his eternal reward by seeking one that is temporal, and fears to impair the divine honor by suffering the purity of his intention in seeking only God in all that he does, to be sullied by the least mixture or deliberate thought of anything else. To prevent, as much as possible, the danger of such a snare, St. Dominic desired to cut off all superfluities in his Order, and the more easily to remove the passions and desires which they beget in the heart, he would have all that could be spared given immediately to the poor, and allowed no one to be solicitous for the morrow. To one so perfectly dead to himself and the world, the victory over his passions seemed natural and easy; and its visible fruit was a happy tranquillity and evenness of soul, which nothing seemed able to disturb or ever move to the least impatience or complaint. By these virtues and happy dispositions, he was fitted for an admirable purity of heart, and sublime grace of prayer, to which we are chiefly to ascribe the high degree of sanctity to which he was raised, and the wonderful fruits of his zeal in converting so many hardened sinners, and in promoting the spiritual advancement of others. He never began to instruct any one, or to do any other spiritual function, without first imploring on his knees the intercession of the Mother of God. Prayer and holy meditation were his darling exercises, to which he devoted both his days and nights, whenever other duties or necessary functions allowed it. In conversing with others it was his delight to speak only of God and heavenly things; and in travelling he often used to say to his companions:—“Walk a little before, and let us think on our Redeemer.” This he did that he might give a freer scope to his sighs and tears.

Humility gave his prayer its force and efficacy. Before he came into any town he fell on the ground, and begged of God that the entrance of such a sinner might not draw down his vengeance on the people. He behaved himself as the servant of all his brethren, and desired as much as possible to bear the burdens of every one; and if he lay under a necessity of giving an account of his actions, his modesty and sincere humility appeared in all his words. He extolled the zeal and charity of the bishops and magistrates, and the devotion and piety of the people; forgetting only the share which he had in what was properly his own work. He never spoke of his birth, the success of his labors, his great enterprises, or anything else that could tend to his honor. It was his study to conceal his charities to the poor, and the graces which he received from God. Nevertheless, to show the excess of the divine mercy, he sometimes communicated certain secret sentiments of his heart to some intimate friends who were great servants of God. Thus, as he was one day conversing with a devout prior of the Cistercian order, who was afterward bishop of Alatri, speaking of the goodness of God, he said, that he had never asked any particular favor of the divine Goodness which he had not obtained. “Why then,” said the prior, “do not you ask that master Comad may receive a call from God to enter himself in your Order?” This Conrad was a German, a man in the highest repute, doctor and professor in law, and in his inclinations most opposite to such a state. St. Dominic spent that night in the church at prayer, begging this favor of God. Next morning, at the hour of prime, Conrad came into the church, and threw himself at the holy founder’s feet, begging that he might be admitted to the habit; and he became a great ornament to this Order by his learning, and much more by the sanctity of his life. Constantine, bishop of Orvieto, assures us that he received this account from the aforesaid prior when he was bishop of Alatri. St. Dominic never ceased to pray for the conversion of infidels and sinners. It was his earnest desire, if it had been God’s will, to shed his blood for Christ, and to travel over all the barbarous nations of the earth to announce to them the happy doctrine of eternal life. In these warm sentiments of holy zeal he made the ministry of the divine word the chief end of his institute; would have all his religious to be applied to it, every one according to his capacity, and those who had particular talents for it, never to discontinue the office of preaching, except in certain intervals allotted to retirement, that they might preach to themselves in silence. To this great function he prepared his religious by long habits of virtue, especially of prayer, humility, self-denial and obedience. It was a maxim which he frequently inculcated to them, “That a man who governs his passions is master of the world. We must either command them, or be enslaved to them. If is better to be the hammer than the anvil.” He taught his missionaries the art of preaching to the heart by animating them with an ardent zeal and charity. Being once asked after preaching, in what book he had studied his sermon, “In no other,” said he, “than in that of charity.”

Though mild, and in things indifferent full of condescension to all, he was inflexible in maintaining the severe discipline he had established in his Order. St. Francis of Assisium, coming to Bologna in 1220, was so much offended to find the convent of his friars in that city built in a stately manner, and not consistent with his idea of the austere poverty and penance which he professed by his rule, that he would not lodge in it, and went to the monastery of Saint Dominic, which was mean and low, where he stayed some days to enjoy our saint’s conversation. St. Dominic made frequent missionary excursions; and founded convents at Bergamo, Brescia, Faënzo, and Viterbo, and visited those he had already founded. He sent some of his religious into Morocco, Portugal, Sweden, Norway, and Ireland; and brother Gilbert with twelve others into England, who established monasteries of this Order in Canterbury, London, and Oxford.* The holy patriarch, in his second general chapter, held at Bologna in 1221, divided his Order into eight provinces, and sent some of his religious into Hungary, Greece, Palestine, and other countries. Among these missionaries F. Paul of Hungary founded in Lower Hungary the monasteries of Gever and Vesprim, converted great numbers of idolaters in Croatia, Sclavonia, Transylvania, Valachia, Moldavia, Bosnia, and Servia; and leaving the churches which he had there founded under the care of other laborers, preached with like success in Cumania, the inhabitants of which country were most savage and barbarous. He baptized among them a duke called Brut, with his vassals, and one of the chief princes of the country named Bernborch, Andrew the king of Hungary and father of St. Elizabeth, standing godfather. This zealous apostle of so many nations suffered a glorious martyrdom with ninety religious friars of his Order, dispersed in those parts; some being beheaded, others shot with arrows, stabbed with lances, or burnt by the Tartars in 1242, in their great irruption into those countries.19 Bishop Sadoe, with forty-nine religious of this Order, were butchered for the faith by these barbarians in a second irruption in 1260, at Sendomir in Poland, and are honored on the 2d of June.

St. Dominic had a foresight of his happy death long before it happened. Setting out on a journey from Bologna for Milan, he said to his friends there, “You now see me well in health; but before the glorious assumption of the Virgin Mother I shall depart hence to the Lord.” He returned to Bologna in the heats of summer, and was seized with a burning fever, which from the beginning was judged mortal. Nevertheless, according to his custom, he desired to pass a great part of the night in the church at prayer; but after matins was obliged to retire to his chamber, though he did not lie down on a bed. During his sickness he continued always cheerful in his countenance. When he was grown very weak he assembled his religious brethren, and in a moving discourse which he called his last testament, and the inheritance which he left them, he exhorted them to constant humility, poverty, fervor, and watchfulness in particular against the enemy of purity. Seeing them weep about him, he promised never to forget them when he should be gone to God. After having received the last sacraments he continued in secret prayer till he calmly expired on the 6th of August, 1221, being fifty-one years old. Cardinal Hugolin, at the news of his death, hastened to Bologna, performed his funeral obsequies, and composed his epitaph. A history of a great number of miracles performed by means of this saint, and attested by eye-witnesses, may be read in the Bollandists.20 His relics were taken up, and translated to a more honorable place in the church, with the greatest pomp and devotion, by an order of Gregory IX. in 1233, twelve years after his death. They have been since inclosed in a mausoleum, which is one of the finest monuments in Italy, and the church is one of the best finished, whether we consider the structure, or the riches, order, taste, and beauty of the ornaments. Saint Dominic was canonized by Gregory IX. in 1234.

The characteristical virtue of this saint was an eminent spirit of prayer, and the constant recollection of his soul in God; and this practice he recommended above all others to his disciples. One of the greatest lights of his Order, and of the Church, Bartholomew de Martyribus, archbishop of Braga, addresses himself to all pastors on this subject as follows,21 “Wo to you, ministers of the Lord, if the source of devotion be dried up in your souls. This tender and sincere spirit of piety is the spring of living water which communicates fertility to all our virtues, and sanctifies all our exercises and actions, which, without it, are dry and barren. This is a heavenly wine which fortifies our hearts with a joy altogether divine. This is the balsam which heals our passions. It is also the tongue with which we speak to God, and without which our souls are dumb before him. It is this that draws down upon us the heavenly dew that strengthens our hearts, and is the spiritual nourishment which enables us to labor with fruit in the vineyard of the Lord.

AUGUST 4 — ST. LUANUS, OR LUGID SOMETIMES CALLED MOLUA, ABBOT IN IRELAND

He was educated at Benchor under St. Comgall, and, as St. Bernard assures us, founded one hundred monasteries in Ireland. Among these the chief was that of Cluain-fearta Molua,* on the borders of Ossory and Queen’s county, in Leinster. St. Lugid prescribes a monastic rule which was long observed in Ireland; in it he enjoined the strictest silence and recollection, and forbid women being ever allowed to approach the church of the monks. He passed to immortal glory on the 4th of August, 622. See Usher’s Antiquities, &c.

AUGUST 5 — THE DEDICATION OF ST. MARY A.D. NIVES

There are in Rome three patriarchal churches, in which the pope officiates on different festivals, and at one of which he always resides when in the city. These are the Basilics of St. John Lateran, St. Peter’s on the Vatican hill, and St. Mary Major.† This last is so called because it is, both in antiquity and dignity, the first church in Rome among those that are dedicated to God in honor of the Virgin Mary. The name of the Liberian Basilic was given it, because it was founded in the time of pope Liberius, in the fourth century; it was consecrated under the title of the Virgin Mary, by Sixtus III. about the year 435.1 It is also called St. Mary ad Nives, or at the snow, from a popular tradition, that the Mother of God chose this place for a church under her invocation by a miraculous snow that fell upon this spot in summer, and by a vision in which she appeared to a patrician named John, who munificently founded and endowed this church in the pontificate of Liberius. The same Basilic has sometimes been known by the name of St. Mary ad Prœsepe, from the holy crib or manger of Bethlehem, in which Christ was laid at his birth. It resembles an ordinary manger, is kept in a case of massy silver, and in it lies an image of a little child,‡ also of silver. On Christmas day the holy manger is taken out of the case, and exposed. It is kept in a sumptuous subterraneous chapel in this church. It is well known how much this holy relic excited the devotion of St. Jerom, St. Paula, and others, when it remained yet at Bethlehem.§

This church is, at least next to Loretto, the most famous place in the whole world for the devotion of the faithful to the Mother of God. They here assemble with great fervor from many parts of Christendom, to unite their suffrages together in praising God for the mercies he has shown to this holy Virgin, and through her to the whole world; and in imploring her patronage and intercession. Supplications which are public and general are most honorable to God and powerful in obtaining his mercy. To say nothing of the precious relics of many saints which are there deposited, and the many great graces which, by the joint prayers of the faithful, have been there obtained for the whole Church this circumstance alone suffices particularly to recommend the sanctity of this, and other such venerable churches, beyond all that could set off the temple of Solomon in the Jewish law.

The Church, which is always solicitous, by the mouths of her pastors, to instruct her children in the most powerful means of attaining to salvation, never ceases, from the primitive ages, strongly to excite them to make their most fervent assiduous addresses to the Mother of God, as a most efficacious means of working their sanctification. She teaches us earnestly to conjure Him who is the author of our being and of our salvation, to listen to her prayers for us; and humbly to remind Him that through her he bestowed himself upon us, and that for love of us he vouchsafed to be born of her, she always remaining a spotless virgin,* &c. She excites us to call her “the mother of grace and pity,” and to place a confidence in her mediation, that by it we shall more easily obtain from her Son, and through his merits, all graces. That Christian neglects a great means of succor who does not every day most earnestly recommend himself, and his particular difficulties and necessities in his main concern, to her intercession. To render our supplications the more efficacious, we ought to unite them in spirit to those of all fervent penitents and devout souls, in invoking this advocate for sinners. We ought to be ashamed not to appear among the foremost and the most ardent in our addresses, in proportion to our extreme necessities, and particular obligations.

AUGUST 5 — ST. OSWALD, KING AND MARTYR

The English Saxon kingdom of the Northumbers was founded by Ida in 547. After his death the northern part called Bernicia was preserved by his children; but Deira, that is, the southern part, comprising Yorkshire and Lancashire, was occupied by Ælla or Alla, and after his death was recovered by Ethelfrid, grandson of Ida, who ruled the whole kingdom of the Northumbers twenty-four years. He being slain in battle by Redwald, king of the East-Angles, in 617, his sons Eanfrid, Oswald, and Oswi took refuge among the Scots, where they were instructed in the Christian faith, and received the sacrament of regeneration. In the mean time, Edwin, the son of Alla, reigned seventeen years over both kingdoms; but in 633 was killed fighting against the united forces of Penda the Mercian, and Cadwalla king of the Britons or Welsh, a Christian by profession, but a stranger to the maxims of his religion; in his manners a barbarian, and an implacable enemy to the English Saxons. Upon this revolution the three sons of Ethelfrid returned from Scotland; and Eanfrid, the eldest, obtained the kingdom of the Deira, whilst Osric, cousin-german to Edwin, was chosen king of Bernicia. Both these princes loved the glory of men more than God, and apostatized from the faith which they had embraced; but were both slain the same year by Cadwalla; Osric in battle, and the other soon after by treachery. Hereupon Oswald was called to the crown, both of Deira and Bernicia, he being the son of Ethelfrid, and nephew of Edwin, whose sister Acca was his mother. This prince had embraced the faith with his whole heart, and far from forsaking Christ, as his unhappy brothers had done, to court the favor of his subjects, he had no other view than to bring them to the spiritual kingdom of divine grace, and to labor with them to secure a crown of eternal glory.

At that time Cadwalla ravaged all the Northumbrian provinces, not as a conqueror, but as a cruel tyrant, laying everything waste with fire and sword, at the head of a vast army, which he boasted nothing could resist. Oswald assembled what troops he was able, and being fortified by faith in Christ, marched confidently, though with a small force, against this mighty enemy, who had by that time proceeded as far as the Picts’ wall. Oswald gave him battle at a place called by Bede Denis-burn,* that is, the brook Denis, adjoining to the Picts’ wall on the north side. Being come near the enemy’s camp, the evening before the engagement, the pious king caused a great wooden cross to be made in haste, and he held it up himself with both his hands whilst the hole dug in the earth to plant it in was filled up round the foot. When it was fixed, St. Oswald cried out to his army, “Let us now kneel down, and jointly pray to the Omnipotent, and only true God, that he would mercifully defend us from our proud enemy; for he knows that we fight in a just war in defence of our lives and country.” All the soldiers did as he commanded them.1 The place where this cross was set up was called in the English tongue Hevenfelth, that is, Heaven’s field, by a happy omen, says Bede, because there was to be erected the first heavenly trophy of faith; for, before that time, no church or altar was known to have been raised in the whole kingdom of the Bernicians. This cross of St. Oswald remained afterward very famous. Bede tells us, that to his time, many cut little chips of it, which they steeped in water, which being drank by sick persons, or sprinkled upon them, many recovered their health. He adds, that after the death of king Oswald, the monks of Hexham used to come to the place on the day before the anniversary of his death, there to watch the night in prayer, reciting the office with many psalms for his soul,† and the next morning to offer the victim of the holy oblation. A church was built on the spot some time before Bede wrote, who mentions that one of the monks of Hexham, named Bothelm, then living, having broken his arm by falling on the ice as he was walking in the night, and having suffered a long time much anguish from the hurt, was perfectly cured in one night by applying a little of the moss which was taken off from this cross, and brought him. The learned Alcuin, in his poem on the bishops and saints of York, published by Mr. Thomas Gale, at Oxford,2 relates how the pious king, no ways daunted at the multitude and ferocity of his enemies, encouraged his soldiers to a confidence in Christ, and exhorted them to implore his protection prostrate with him on their faces before the cross which he had set up.* This author likewise adds an account of several miracles wrought down to his time in 780, at the relics of St. Oswald, and at this cross; or by chips cut from it infused in water, by drinking which, many sick were cured, even in Ireland, and other distant countries. So great was the veneration of the people for this cross, that the abbey of Durham used for its seal, during several ages, this cross on one side, and on the reverse the figure of St. Oswald’s head, as Mr. Smith exhibits it from several ancient records. Almighty God was pleased to bless the king’s faith and devotion by granting him and his small army a complete victory over Cadwalla, who was killed in the battle, and his forces, with those of his allies, entirely routed.

St. Oswald, after giving thanks to God, immediately set himself to restore good order throughout his dominions, and to plant in them the faith of Christ. By his ambassadors he entreated the king and bishops in Scotland to send him a bishop and assistants, by whose preaching the people whom he governed might be grounded in the Christian religion, and receive baptism. Aidan,† a native of Ireland, and a monk of the celebrated monastery of Hij, was chosen for the great and arduous undertaking; and by his mildness soon repaired the mischief done by another monk sent thither before him, whose harshness had alienated many from the sweet law of the gospel. The king bestowed on Aidan the isle of Lindisfarne for his episcopal seat; and was so edified with his learning and zeal, that this great prince, before the bishop could sufficiently speak the English language, would be himself his interpreter, and explain his sermons and instructions to the people.

Oswald filled his dominions with churches and monasteries, and whilst he was governing his temporal kingdom, was intent only to labor and pray for an eternal crown. He very often continued in prayer from the time of matins (at midnight, to which he rose with the monks) till day-light; and by reason of his frequent custom of praying or giving thanks to our Lord at all times, it is said that wherever he was sitting he would have his hands on his knees turned upwards toward heaven. Bede says that he reigned over Britons, Picts, Scots, and English. The kingdom of Northumberland was then extended as far as the Frith of Edinburgh; but by this expression of Bede some other provinces of the Picts, and others in Wales must have paid homage to him. Penda, the Mercian, being one of the allies of Cadwalla, and, according to Malmesbury, present at his defeat, Mercia also paid him a kind of submission; and so great was his power, that all the other kings of the Heptarchy acknowledged a certain dependence; whence Adamnan, abbot of Hij, in the life of St. Columba, styles him emperor of Britain.

Wonderful was the humility, affability, and charity of this great king amidst his prosperity; of which Bede gives us the following instance. One Easter-day, whilst he was sitting down to dinner, an officer, whose business it was to take care of the poor, came in, and told him there was a great multitude of poor people at his gate desiring alms. Whereupon the king sent them a large silver dish full of meat from his own table, and ordered the dish to be broken into small pieces, and distributed among them. Upon this, St. Adian, who happened to be at table, taking him by the right hand, said, “Let this hand never corrupt.” Bede adds, that this arm being cut off from his body after he was slain, remained uncorrupt till his time, and was then kept, being honored by all with due veneration, in the church of St. Peter, at the royal castle of Bebbaborough (so called from Bebba, a former queen), now Bamborough in Northumberland. Simon of Durham, and Ingulphus, testify that his arm was afterward kept at Peterborough.

When St. Oswald had reigned eight years in great prosperity, Penda, the barbarous pagan king of Mercia, who nine years before had slain the pious king Edwin, uncle to St. Oswald by his mother, but had been vanquished by our saint in the beginning of his reign, found means again to raise a great army, and invade the Christian dominions of our holy king. St. Oswald met him with an inferior force, and was killed in the battle that was fought between them. When he saw himself surrounded with the arms of his enemies, he offered his prayer for the souls of his soldiers. Whence it became a proverb; “O God be merciful to their souls, said Oswald when he fell.” He was slain in the thirty-eighth year of his age, of our Lord 642, on the 5th of August, in a place called Maserfield. This seems to have been at Winwick in Lancashire, where is a well still called St. Oswald’s, which was formerly visited out of devotion; and that this territory was called Maserfelte, appears from an old inscription in Winwick church. Nevertheless, Oswaldtry, that is, Oswald’s cross, a market town, seven miles from Shrewsbury, is supposed by some to have also been formerly called Maserfelth; and Capgrave, Camden, and others, think this the place where St. Oswald was slain; for, he might before this, say they, when he defeated Penda, have added that part of Shropshire to his kingdom. The famous church of St. Oswald there stands without the New gate. Leland, in his Itinerary, says it was once a monastery; this must have been in the Saxon times; but soon after the Norman conquest this church of Oswaldtry or Oswald’s cross, was a parish when it was given to the monastery of Shrewsbury, to which it afterward belonged, and was impropriate. See Tanner, in his monastic history; who says, the town called Album monasterium, or White-minster, was not Oswaldtry, but Whit-church, which was once a monastery. The church of Oswaldtry was probably so called from St. Oswald’s cross, of which it was probably possessed; but Winwick in Masserfelth in Lancashire more justly claims the honor of his martyrdom.* The inhuman tyrant caused the saint’s head and arms to be struck off, and fixed on poles; but St. Oswald’s brother and successor Oswi took them away the year following, and carried the arms to his own royal palace, and sent the head to Lindisfarne. The head was afterward put in the same shrine with the body of St. Cuthbert, and with it translated to Durham, as Malmesbury and others assure us. The rest of St. Oswald’s body was translated by his niece Osfrida, wife of Etheldred, king of Mercia, to the monastery of Bardney in Lincolnshire. During the Danish irruptions these relics were removed, by the care of Edilred, king of the Mercians, to Gloucester, where Elfleda, countess of Mercia, and daughter to king Alfred, built the church of St. Peter. The monument erected to St. Oswald there is still to be seen in a chapel of this cathedral, between two pillars; but part of the relics were translated to the abbey of St. Winoc’s Berg in Flanders, in 1221, and deposited there with great solemnity by Adam, bishop of Terouanne.* The barbarous king Penda, after he had slain five pious kings, Edwin, Oswald, Sigebert, Egric, and Annas, turned his arms against Oswi, who tried in vain to soften him by presents and the most favorable proposals. Seeing himself rejected by man, he turned his gifts into prayers, and bound himself by vow, in case he should be victorious, to consecrate to God his daughter Enfleda, then only one year old, and give with her twelve portions of laud (each of which was sufficient to maintain ten families) to build and endow monasteries. God heard his vow: and Oswi, with an inferior army, defeated and slew the tyrant near Loyden, now Leeds, in Yorkshire, in 655. The place of this battle was called Winwidfield, or Field of Victory; situated on the river Winuaed, now Aire. With Penda, who was then eighty years old, of which he had reigned thirty, fell thirty commanders of royal blood. See the Saxon Chronicle, ad an. 655. Bede, Hist. Angl., 1. 3, c. 1, 2, 3; 6, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13; and Alcuin, Poem. de Pontificibus et Sanctis Eborac., published by Gale, t. 2.

AUGUST 5 — ST. AFRA AND COMPANIONS, MM

The persecution of Dioclesian was carried on with great cruelty by his colleague Maximian Herculeus in Africa, Italy, Rhetia, Vindelicia, Noricum, and Upper Pannonia, the government of which provinces fell to his share in the division of the empire. At Ausburg, in Rhetia, the apparitors apprehended a woman called Afra, known to have formerly been a common prostitute. The judge, by name Gaius, who knew who she was, said, “Sacrifice to the gods: it is better to live than to die in torments.” Afra replied, “I was a great sinner before I knew God; but I will not add new crimes, nor do what you command me.” Gaius said, “Go to the capitol and sacrifice.” Afra answered, “My capitol is Jesus Christ, whom I have always before my eyes. I every day confess my sins; and because I am unworthy to offer him any sacrifice,† I desire to sacrifice myself for his name, that this body in which I have sinned may be purified and sacrificed to him by torments.” “I am informed,” said Gaius, “that you are a prostitute. Sacrifice, therefore, as you are a stranger to the God of the Christians, and cannot be accepted by him.” Afra replied, “Our Lord Jesus Christ hath said, that he came down from heaven to save sinners. The gospels testify that an abandoned woman washed his feet with her tears, and obtained pardon, and that he neve rejected the publicans, but permitted them to eat with him.” The judge said, “Sacrifice, that your gallants may follow you, and enrich you.” Afra answered, “I will have no more of that execrable gain. I have thrown away as so much filth what I had by me of it. Even our poor brethren would not accept of it, till I had overcome their reluctance by my entreaties, that they might pray for my sins.”* Gaius said, “Jesus Christ will have nothing to do with you. It is in vain for you to acknowledge him for your God: a common prostitute can never be called a Christian.” Afra replied, “It is true I am unworthy to bear the name of a Christian: but Christ hath admitted me to be one.” Gaius said, “Sacrifice to the gods, and they will save you.” The martyr replied, “My Saviour is Jesus Christ, who upon the cross promised paradise to the thief that confessed him.” The judge said, “Sacrifice, lest I order you to be whipped in the presence of your lovers.” Afra replied, “The only subject of my confusion and grief are my sins.” “Sacrifice,” said the judge, “I am ashamed that I have disputed so long with you. If you do not comply, you shall die.” Afra replied, “That is what I desire, if I am not unworthy to find rest by this confession.” The judge said, “Sacrifice, or I will order you to be tormented, and afterward burnt alive.” Afra answered, “Let that body which hath sinned, undergo torments; but as to my soul, I will not taint it by sacrificing to demons.” Then the judge passed sentence upon her as follows: “We condemn Afra, a prostitute, who hath declared herself a Christian, to be burnt alive, because she hath refused to offer sacrifice to the gods.”

The executioners immediately seized her, and carried her into an island in the river Lech, upon which Ausburg stands. There they stripped her, and tied her to a stake. She lifted up her eyes to heaven, and prayed with tears, saying, “O Lord Jesus Christ, Omnipotent God, who camest to call not the righteous, but sinners to repentance, accept now the penance of my sufferings, and by this temporal fire deliver me from the everlasting fire, which torments both body and soul.” Whilst the executioners were heaping a pile of vine branches about her, and setting fire to them, she was heard to say, “I return thee thanks, O Lord Jesus Christ, for the honor thou hast done me in receiving me a holocaust for thy name’s sake; thou who hast vouchsafed to offer thyself upon the altar of the cross a sacrifice for the sins of the whole world, the just for the unjust, and for sinners. I offer myself a victim to thee, O my God, who livest and reignest with the Father and the Holy Ghost world without end. Amen.” Having spoken these words she gave up the ghost, being suffocated by the smoke.

Three maids of the martyr, Digna, Eunomia, and Eutropia, who had been sinners as well as their mistress, but were converted, and baptized at the same time by the holy bishop Narcissus,† stood all the while on the banks of the river, and beheld her glorious triumph. After the execution they went into the island, and found the body of Afra entire. A servant man who was with them swam back, and carried the news to Hilaria, the martyr’s mother. She came in the night with some holy priests, and carried away the body, which she interred in a sepulchre she had built for herself and family, two miles from the city. The sepulchres of the ancients were lofty buildings, and big enough to contain several apartments. Whilst Hilaria and her attendants were still there, Gaius was informed of what they had done. He therefore despatched soldiers thither with an order to persuade the whole company to offer sacrifice, and if they refused, to burn them alive without any other formality. The soldiers used both mild words and threats; but finding all to no purpose, they filled the vault of the sepulchre with dry thorns and vine branches, shut the door upon them, and having set fire to the sticks, went away. Thus St. Afra, her mother, and three servants, were honored with the crown of martyrdom on the same day, which was the 7th of August, as Ruinart and Tillemont2 observe; though their festival is kept on the 5th. They suffered in the year 304. St. Afra is honored as chief patroness at Ausburg. In her we admire the perfect sentiments of a true penitent. At every word and in every thought she had her sins always before her eyes; persuaded she never could do enough to efface them, she never thinks on what she has already done for that end; immediately upon her conversion she gave what she possessed to the poor, doubtless led a most penitential life till her death, and she rejoiced to suffer in order to atone for her former crimes. See her genuine acts, copied from the public register, in Surius, Ruinart, p. 455, &c.

AUGUST 5 — ST. MEMMIUS, IN FRENCH, MENGE FIRST BISHOP AND APOSTLE OF CHALONS ON THE MARNE

The Catalaunian plains, according to Jornandes, one hundred leagues in length, and seventy in breadth, famous for the defeat of Attila, and other great victories, gave name to the whole province of Champagne, and were the theatre of the apostolic labors of St. Memmius, the first bishop and apostle of Chalons, in the decline of the third century. Flodoard is our voucher that he was contemporary with Sixtus, bishop of Rheims in 290. He is honored on the 5th of August, the day of his death. His relics, after several translations, are deposited in a rich shrine of silver gilt, together with those of his sister St. Poma, and famous for many miracles. St. Gregory of Tours relates that when he was travelling through Chalons his servant fell dangerously ill of a fever: St. Gregory, prostrate before the tomb of St. Memmius, prayed earnestly for his recovery; and the next morning the youth found himself perfectly we11.1 St. Memmius’s two immediate successors, Donatian and Domitian, are also honored among the saints, and their relics enshrined in the Basilic of St. Memmius. Likewise St. Elasius and his brother and successor Laudomerus or Lumier, the thirteenth and fourteenth bishops of Chalons from 565 to 590, are honored, the former on the 19th of August, the latter on the second of October, though he died on the 30th of September.

AUGUST 6 — THE TRANSFIGURATION OF OUR LORD

Mat. 18 Mark 9 Luke 9

OUR Divine Redeemer, in order to show us that the sufferings of his servants are usually intermingled with frequent spiritual comforts, and to give us a sensible demonstration of the truth of his promises of an eternal glory reserved for us in the world to come, was pleased to manifest a glimpse of his majesty in the mystery of his Transfiguration. Being in Galilee, about a year before his sacred passion, he chose to be witnesses of his glory the same three beloved disciples who were afterward to be witnesses of his bloody agony in the garden, namely St. Peter, and the two sons of Zebedee, SS. James and John. He took three, that their evidence might be unexceptionable; but he would not publicly discover his glory to teach his followers to love the closest secresy in all spiritual graces and favors. All pretences contrary to this rule are suggested by blind self-love, not by the spirit of God; they are a disguised pride, and a dangerous illusion. Every true servant of God loves to be hidden and concealed; his motto in the divine gifts, even when he most ardently invites all creatures to magnify the Lord with him for all His unspeakable mercies, is: My secret to myself, my secret to myself.1 He fears lest he should be at all considered or thought of in what purely belongs to God alone. Jesus therefore would exhibit this miracle in retirement, and he led these three apostles to a retired mountain, as he was accustomed to repair often to some close solitude to pray. The tradition of the Christians in Palestine, of which St. Cyril of Jerusalem, St. John Damascen, and other ancient fathers are vouchers, assures us, that this was mount Thabor, which is exceeding high and beautiful, and was anciently covered with green trees and shrubs, and was very fruitful. It rises something like a sugar loaf, in a vast plain, in the middle of Galilee. This was the place in which the Man-God appeared in his glory. He was transfigured whilst at prayer, because it is usually in this heavenly commerce that the soul receives the dew of divine consolations and tastes how infinitely sweet and good God is to those who sincerely seek him. Many Christians indeed are strangers to this effect of that holy exercise, because they do not apply themselves to it with assiduity and fervor, or neglect to disengage their affections from creatures by perfect humility, self-denial, and mortification of the senses. Without a great purity of heart no man shall see God. A little birdlime entangles the feathers of a bird, and holds down the strongest pinion from being able to raise the body in the air. So the least earthly dust clogs the wings of the soul, the least inordinate attachment to creatures is a weight which hinders the perfect union of her affections with God, and the full flow of his graces upon her; but a Christian worthily disposed and fitted by the Holy Ghost to receive the spirit of prayer, by assiduity in that holy exercise purifies his love more and more, transforms his affections, and renders them more and more spiritual and heavenly. Of this, the Transfiguration of our Divine Redeemer was, among other transcending prerogatives, a most noble and supereminent prototype.

Whilst Jesus prayed he suffered that glory which was always due to his sacred humility, and of which for our sake he deprived it, to diffuse a ray over his whole body. His face was altered, and shone as the sun, and his garments became white as snow. By this glorious transfiguration of his flesh he has animated our hope, that even our bodies will share with our immortal souls in the bliss which he has promised us, and will inherit his glory. Do we often bear in mind this comfortable truth? Can we believe it, and not always be employed in the thoughts of it? Can we think of it, and not be ravished out of ourselves with holy joy? Yes: this heavy lumpish flesh, these infirm corruptible bodies, at present so often subject to sickness, pain, and wants, will one day be raised from the dust glorified, impassible; no more liable to heat, cold, diseases, torment, or tears; beautiful, transcending in lustre and brightness the sun and stars; endued with swiftness beyond that of light, and with strength equal to the angels; with the power of penetrating all bodies, as Christ did the stone of the sepulchre, and the doors when shut; with dazzling glory, with unspeakable pleasure in every part or organ; in a word, with all the communicable gifts and qualities of spirits, resembling the body of Christ glorified after his resurrection, which, as St. Paul tells us, is the model upon which ours shall be raised in glory. A glimpse of all this appeared in the splendor wherewith his adorable humanity was clothed in his Transfiguration.

Moses and Elias were seen by the three apostles in his company on this occasion, and were heard discoursing with him of the death which he was to suffer in Jerusalem. Moses represented the ancient patriarchs, and the first saints who lived under the law; Elias the later prophets; and they showed by their presence that all the just inspired by God from the beginning had given testimony to Christ as the true Messias. They had both been remarkable for their sufferings in the cause of virtue, Elias having been exceedingly persecuted by the wicked, and Moses having chosen rather to be afflicted with the people of God than to enjoy the greatest honors and pleasures of Pharaoh’s court; and the cross being the constant object of the most ardent desires of our blessed Redeemer out of the excess of his love for us, they spoke to him of nothing but of the stripes, thorns, reproaches, and cruel death which he was to suffer. Our loving Saviour, in part to moderate his ardor to complete his sacrifice by the triumph of his love in his death on the cross, had made it frequently the subject of his conversation with his disciples, and even in this joyful mystery would entertain himself and the witnesses of his glory upon it. If we truly consider and understand the spiritual fruits and glory of mortification and suffering for Christ, we shall rejoice in wearing the livery of our crucified Redeemer. The three apostles were wonderfully delighted with this glorious vision, and St. Peter cried out to Christ: Lord, it is good for us to be here. Let us make three tents, one for thee, one for Moses, and one for Elias. This he spoke not knowing what he said, being out of himself in a transport of holy admiration and joy; desiring never to be drawn from the sight of so glorious an object, and never to lose that sweetness and delight with which his soul was then overwhelmed. He truly knew not what he said, or he would never have desired that for the time of trial on earth which is reserved only for heaven. Neither would he have contented himself with beholding only the glorified humanity of Christ, which vision can bear no proportion to the beatific contemplation of the divinity itself. He tasted only a single drop of that over flowing river which inebriates the heavenly Jerusalem, and all its blessed inhabitants; yet was so much transported by it. What would he then have said if he had received into his soul the whole impetuous torrents of heavenly delights? He who has once tasted that spiritual sweetness which God sometimes bestows on souls in this life to strengthen their weakness, and to attract them to his love by the sweet odor of his ointments, must ever after live in bitterness, alleviated only by resignation and love, till he arrive at the fountain itself, which is God. No wonder therefore that St. Peter, after this foretaste, was unwilling to return again to the earth. How little do the lovers of the world know the incomparable sweetness of divine love, or they would despise from their hearts those toys for which they deprive themselves of so great a good! Yet so depraved is the taste of many by their passions, that they would be content, were it possible, always to live here, and never think of the joys of heaven. “How can it be good for us to be here,” cries out St. Bernard,2 “where everything in worldly pursuits is tedious, empty, or dangerous? Here is much malice, and very little wisdom, if even a little. Here all things are slippery and treacherous, covered with darkness, and full of snares, where souls are exposed to continual danger of perishing, the spirit sinks under affliction, and nothing is found but vanity and trouble of mind.” To the just this life is the time of trials and labor heaven is our place of rest, our eternal sabbath, where our patience and tears will find their reward exceeding great. Why do we seek repose before the end of our warfare?

Whilst St. Peter was speaking, there came, on a sudden, a bright shining cloud from heaven, an emblem of the presence of God’s majesty, and from out of this cloud was heard a voice which said: This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased; hear ye him. By this testimony the Father declared Christ his only begotten and co-eternal Son, sent by him into the world to be the remedy of our sins, our advocate and our propitiation, through whom alone we can find access to his offended majesty. If through him we approach the throne of his mercy, we cannot be rejected, he being in his humanity the object of the infinite complacency of the Father: through him we are invited to apply with confidence for mercy and every good gift. By the same voice the Father also declared him the perfect model of our virtues, and commands us to hear him, and attend to his example, in order to square by it our lives, and to form in our souls a new spirit grounded upon the pattern he hath set us of humility, meekness, charity, and patience. He commands us also to listen with the utmost respect and docility to his saving and most holy doctrine, which is the word of eternal life. The apostles that were present, upon hearing this voice, were seized with a sudden fear and fell upon the ground; but Jesus, going to them, touched them, and bade them to rise. They immediately did so, and saw no one but Jesus standing in his ordinary state. This vision happened in the night. As they went down the mountain early the next morning, Jesus gave them a charge not to discover to any one what they had seen till he should be risen from the dead. The Jews were unworthy to hear what many among them would have only blasphemed, and they had sufficient evidence by his miracles, to which they wilfully shut their eyes; but Jesus would by this give us a fresh lesson of humility, and teach us that secresy with regard to divine graces, and the exercise of all extraordinary virtues, is the guardian of those gifts.

From the contemplation of this glorious mystery we ought to conceive a true idea of future happiness; if this once possess our souls, it will make us not to value any difficulties or labors we can meet with here, but to regard with great indifference all the goods and evils of this life, provided we can but secure our portion in the kingdom of God’s glory. Thabor is our encouragement by setting that bliss before our eyes, but Calvary is the way that leads to it. When Christ shall let us into the secrets of his love and cross, and make us taste that interior sweetness and secure peace which he hath hidden therein, and which the world knoweth not, then we shall find a comfort and joy in our sufferings themselves, and with St. Paul we shall think of nothing but of loving, and suffering in what manner it shall please God to make us tread in the footsteps of his divine Son, being solicitous only to walk in the continual exercise of pure love. The ninety-fourth sermon of St. Leo which is on this mystery, shows this festival to have been observed at Rome in the middle of the fifth century. Pope Calixtus III. made it more universal and solemn by a bull dated in 1457.

AUGUST 6 — ST. XYSTUS, OR SIXTUS II. POPE AND MARTYR

He was a Grecian by birth, deacon of the Roman Church under St. Stephen, and upon his demise, in 257, was chosen pope, being the 25th from St. Peter. St. Dionysius of Alexandria consulted him by three letters on certain difficulties, and recommended to him to bear a little while with the Africans and some among the Asiatics with regard to their error concerning the validity of baptism given by heretics. Accordingly this pope used towards them indulgence, contenting himself with strongly recommending the truth to them; and his successors pursued the same conduct till that error was condemned in the plenary council often mentioned by St. Austin.* St. Sixtus is styled by St. Cyprian a peaceable and excellent prelate. Though some have ascribed eight years to his pontificate, it is certain from all the circumstances of his history, that he only sat one year.1

Gallus, the successor of Decius in the empire, and a persecutor of the Christians, being despised for his cowardice, was slain with his son and colleague Volusius in 253, after having reigned eighteen months. Æmilius then assumed the title of emperor; but was killed after he had reigned four months, without having been acknowledged by the senate; and Valerianus, a person of a noble family, and great reputation, who had been censor and chief of the senate, was acknowledged emperor by the consent of the whole world. He was at first more favorable to the Christians than any of the emperors before him had been, not excepting the Philips; and his palace was full of religious persons. By this means the Church enjoyed peace during three years and a half; which tranquillity afforded an opportunity of holding many councils; but in 257 Valerian raised the eighth, or, according to Sulpicius Severus, the ninth general persecution, which continued three years and a half, till he was taken prisoner by the Persians. The change wrought in this emperor is ascribed by Eusebius to a motive of superstition, and to the artifices and persuasion of one Macrianus, who was extremely addicted to the Persian sect of the Magians, and to the black art. This man, whom St. Dionysius of Alexandria calls the archmagian of Egypt, had worked himself into the highest favor with the superstitious emperor, was raised by him to the first dignities of the state, and persuaded him that the Christians, by being avowed enemies to art magic, and to the gods, obstruct the effects of the sacrifices, and the prosperity of his empire. Valerian had reason to tremble for his own safety upon the pinnacle of his honors; for some compute that only six, out of thirty emperors, that had reigned from Augustus to his time, had escaped the violent hands of murderers; but, by declaring himself an enemy to the servants of God, he dug a pit for his own ruin. He published his first edict against them in April, 257, which was followed by the martyrdom of pope Stephen and many others.

The persecution grew much more fierce in the following year, when Valerian marching into the East against the Persians, sent a new rescript to the senate to be passed into a law, the tenor and effect of which St. Cyprian notified to his fellow bishops in Africa as follows:2—“Valerian has sent an order to the senate, importing that bishops, priests, and deacons should forthwith suffer” (even although they should be willing to conform), “but that senators, persons of quality, and Roman knights should forfeit their honors, should have their estates forfeited, and if they still refused to sacrifice, should lose their heads: that matrons should have their goods seized, and be banished: that any of Cæsar’s officers or domestics who had already confessed the Christian faith, or should now confess it, should forfeit their estates to the exchequer, and should be sent in chains to work in Cæsar’s farms.† To this order the emperor subjoined a copy of the letter which he hath despatched to the presidents of the several provinces concerning us: which letter I expect, and hope will soon be brought hither.—You are to understand that Xystus (bishop of Rome) suffered in a cemetery upon the 6th day of August, and with him Quartus. The officers of Rome are very intent upon this persecution; and the persons who are brought before them are sure to suffer, and to forfeit their estates to the exchequer. Pray notify these particulars to my colleagues, that so our brethren may everywhere be prepared for their great conflict; that we may all think rather of immortality than death, and derive more joy than fear or terror from this confession, in which we know that the soldiers of Christ are not so properly killed as crowned.”

St. Xystus suffered in a cemetery; for the Christians, in the times of persecution, resorted to those subterraneous caverns to celebrate the divine mysteries. Here they met, though Valerian had forbidden them to hold assemblies, and here they were hunted out. Quartus must have been a priest or deacon; otherwise he would not have suffered upon the spot, but been first pressed by the rack to sacrifice. Some think this name Quartus a slip of the copiers, and read this passage as follows: “with four deacons;”* for, say these authors, about that time four deacons suffered at Rome, Prætextatus, Felicissimus and Agapitus, with their bishop, as the Liberian and other ancient Calendars testify; and Laurence, who suffered soon after him. This last was his archdeacon, and seeing him led to execution, expostulated with him, lamenting to be left behind.3 “St. Sixtus replied that he should follow him within three days, by a more glorious triumph; himself being spared on account of his old age.” Those are mistaken who say that St. Sixtus was crucified; for the Liberian Calendar assures us, that he was beheaded in the cemetery of Calixtus, and the expression which St. Cyprian uses signifies the same. St. Cyprian suffered in the September following; and all the provinces of the empire were watered with the blood of innumerable martyrs.† For though Valerian’s first edicts regarded chiefly the clergy, they were soon extended to the whole body of Christians; old and young, men, women and children; and great numbers of every condition, rich and poor, soldiers, husbandmen, slaves, and even children, were put to cruel deaths, as Eusebius,4 St. Cyprian,5 and the ancient Martyrologies testify.

AUGUST 6 — SS. JUSTUS AND PASTOR, MM

They were two brothers, who in their tender age overcame, with an heroic courage, the rage and power of Dacian, armed with all the instruments of cruelty. This judge was governor of Spain under Dioclesian and Maximian, and one of the most furious ministers of their cruelty in persecuting the Christians. In his progress through his province in search of the servants of the true God, he arrived at Complutum, now called Alcala de Henares, and having caused the bloody edicts to be read in the market-place, began to put to the most exquisite tortures the Christians that were brought before him. Justus and Pastor, children who were then learning the first elements of literature in the public school of that city (the first being thirteen, the latter only seven years old), hearing of the torments which were inflicted on the generous soldiers of Christ, were fired with a holy zeal to have a share in their triumphs. They threw down their books, ran to the place where the governor was interrogating the confessors, and by their behavior about the racks and other engines on which the martyrs were tormented, gave manifest proofs of the holy faith which they professed. They were soon taken notice of, apprehended, and presented to the judge. He foamed with rage to see children brave his power and authority, and not doubting but a little correction would allay their courage, commanded them to be most severely whipped. This was executed in the most barbarous manner; but he who makes the tongues of infants eloquent in his praise, gave them strength to baffle all the efforts of the world and hell. The soldiers and spectators were filled with astonishment to see the modest constancy with which in their turns they encouraged and exhorted each other to bear their torments for Christ, and for an eternal crown: and the wonderful cheerfulness and readiness which they discovered to suffer every torture that could be inflicted. The judge, being informed that it was in vain to expect their resolution could ever be vanquished by torments, to cover his shame, gave an order that they should be privately beheaded. This sentence was executed in a field near the town, and their bodies were buried by the Christians on that very spot which their blood had sanctified. A chapel was afterward built on the place. Their relics are at present enshrined under the high altar of a great collegiate church at Alcala, of which they are the titular patrons. Their martyrdom happened in 304. See Prudentius, hymn. 4, alias 7. St. Isidore, F. Flores, &c.

AUGUST 7 — ST. CAJETAN OF THIENNA, C

See his life compiled by Antonio Caraccioli, Pr. of his order, published in Latin with those of the three other founders in 1612. Also the same given more at large in Italian, by F. Jos. Silos, of the same Order, on the occasion of his canonization in 1671, with the bull of his canonization, and the comments of the Bollandists. See also his life written by Del Tufa, bishop of Acerra; Helyot, Hist. des Ord. Relig. t. 4, p. 71, Contin. Fleury, t. 32, et la Vie de S. Cajetan de Thienne, nar D. Bernard. Paris, 1698 12mo.

A. D. 1547.

ST. CAJETAN was son of Gaspar, lord of Thienna,* and Mary Porta, persons of the first rank among the nobility of the territory of Vicenza in Lombardy, and eminent for their piety. The saint was born 1480.† His mother by earnest prayer recommended him from his birth to the patronage of the Blessed Virgin, and as he grew capable of instruction, never ceased setting before his eyes the example of our divine Redeemer’s humility, meekness, purity, and all other virtues; and such was his docility to he lessons that from his infancy he was surnamed the Saint. The perfect mortification of his passions from the cradle made an unalterable sweetness of temper seem as it were the natural result of his constitution. The love of prayer taught a constant recollection, and the continual application of his mind to eternal truths made him shun all loss of time in amusements or idle conversation; for no discourse seemed agreeable or interesting to him, unless it tended to raise the mind to God. His affections were entirely weaned from the world, and he directed all his aims to the life to come. His tender charity towards all men, particularly his compassion for the poor and all that were in affliction, were remarkable on all occasions. The long exercises of devotion which he daily practised, were no hindrance to his studies, but sanctified them, and purified the eye of his understanding, enabling him the better to judge of truth. He distinguished himself in the study of divinity; likewise in the civil and canon laws, in which faculty he took the degree of doctor with great applause at Padua.

To devote himself perfectly to the divine service he embraced an ecclesiastical state; and, out of his own patrimony, built and founded a parochial chapel at Rampazzo, for the instruction and benefit of many who lived at a considerable distance from the parish church. After this he went to Rome, not in quest of preferment, or to live at court, but hoping to lie concealed in that great city, and to lead an obscure and hidden life, which it was impossible for him to do in his own country. Nevertheless, pope Julius II. compelled him to accept the office of protonotary in his court, and by that means drew him out of his beloved solitude, though the saint had the art to join interior recollection with public employments, and to live retired in courts. Being much delighted with the end proposed by the confraternity in Rome, called of the love of God, which was an association of zealous and devout persons who devoted themselves by certain pious exercises and regulations to labor with all their power to promote the divine honor, he enrolled himself in it. Upon the death of Julius II. he resigned his public employment, and returned to Vicenza. There he entered himself in the confraternity of St. Jerom, which was instituted upon the plan of that of the love of God in Rome, but which in that place consisted only of men in the lowest stations of life. This circumstance was infinitely pleasing to the saint, but gave great offence to his worldly friends, who thought it a blemish to the honor of his family. He persisted, however, in his resolution, and exerted his zeal with wonderful fruit in the most humbling practices of charity. He sought out the most distressed objects among the sick and poor over the whole town, and served them with his own hands, being most assiduous about those who labored under the most loathsome diseases in the hospital of the incurables, the revenues of which house he considerably augmented. In obedience to the advice of his confessor, John of Crema, a Dominican friar, a man of great prudence, learning, and piety, the saint removed to Venice, and taking up his lodgings in the new hospital of that city, pursued his former manner of life. He was so great a benefactor to that house as to be regarded as its principal founder, though his chief care was to provide the sick with every spiritual succor possible. He at the same time emaciated his body with penitential austerities, and seemed to rival the most eminent contemplatives in the sublime grace of prayer; and it was the common saying both at Rome, Vicenza, and Venice, that Cajetan was a seraph at the altar, and an apostle in the pulpit.

By the advice of the same director, Cajetan left Venice to return to Rome, in order to associate himself again to the confraternity of the love of God, among the principal members of which, many were no less eminent for their learning and prudence than for their extraordinary piety. He deliberated with them on some effectual means for the reformation of manners among Christians, grieving that the sanctity of this divine religion should be so little known and practised by the greatest part of those that profess it. All agreed that this could not be done but by reviving in the clergy the spirit and zeal of those holy pastors who first planted the faith. To put all the clergy in mind what this spirit bought to be, and what it obliges them to, a plan was concerted among the associates for instituting an order of regular clergy upon the perfect model of the lives of the apostles. The first authors of this design were St. Cajetan, John Peter Caraffa, afterward pope under the name of Paul IV. but at that time archbishop of Theate, now called Chieti, a town in Abruzzo; Paul Consigliari, of the most noble family of Ghisleri, and Boniface de Colle, a gentleman of Milan. Those among them who were possessed of ecclesiastical livings addressed themselves to pope Clement VII. for leave to resign them with a view of making such an establishment. His holiness made great difficulties with regard to the archbishop; but at length gave his consent. The plan of the new institute was drawn up, laid before the pope, and examined in a consistory of cardinals in 1524. The more perfectly to extirpate the poison of avarice, always most fatal to the ecclesiastical order where it gets footing, and to establish in the hearts of those that are engaged in that state the most perfect spirit of disinterestedness, and the entire disengagement of their hearts from the goods of this world, the zealous founders made it an observance of their institute, though not under any vow or obligation (as several French writers of note have mistaken), that this regular clergy should not only possess no annual revenues, but should be forbidden ever to beg or ask for necessary subsistence, content to receive the voluntary contributions of the faithful, and relying entirely upon providence. The cardinals objected a long time to this rule, thinking it inconsistent with the ordinary laws of prudence. But their opposition was at length overcome by the founders, who urged that Christ and his apostles having observed this manner of life, the same might be perfectly copied by those who were their successors in the ministry of the altar, and of the divine word. But this clause was added to the rule, that if a community should be reduced to extreme necessity they should give notice of their distress by a toll of the bell. The Order therefore was approved by Clement VII. in 1524, and Caraffa was chosen the first general. As he still retained the title of archbishop of Theate, these regular clerks were from him called Theatins.* The principal ends which they proposed to themselves were to preach to the people, assist the sick, oppose errors in faith, restore among the laity the devout and frequent use of the sacraments, and re-establish in the clergy disinterestedness, regularity, a perfect spirit of devotion, assiduous application to the sacred studies, the most religious respect to holy things, especially in whatever belongs to the sacraments and pious ceremonies.

Rome and all Italy soon perceived the happy effects of the zeal of these holy men, and the odor of their sanctity drew many to their community. They lived at first in a house in Rome, which belonged to Boniface de Colle; but, their number increasing, they took a larger house on Monte Pincio. In the following year they were afflicted with a calamity which had like to have put an end to their Order soon after its birth. The army of the emperor Charles V. which was commanded by the constable Bourbon, who had deserted from the French king to the emperor, marched from the Milanese to Rome, and took that city by assault on the 6th of May, 1527. This duke of Bourbon, after having committed horrible outrages, was killed by a musket-shot in mounting the wall. But Philibert of Challons, prince of Orange, took upon him the command of the army, which was composed in a great measure of Lutherans, and other enemies of the see of Rome. The pope and cardinals retired into the castle of St. Angelo, but the German army plundered the city, and were guilty of greater cruelties and excesses than had been committed by the Goths a thousand years before. The house of the Theatins was rifled, and almost demolished; and a soldier, who had known St. Cajetan at Vincenza before he renounced the world, falsely imagining he was then rich, gave an information to his officer against him to that effect; whereupon he was barbarously scourged and tortured to exhort from him a treasure which he had not. Being at length discharged, though in a weak and maimed condition, he and his companions left Rome, with nothing but their breviaries under their arms, and with clothes barely to cover themselves. They repaired to Venice, where they were kindly received and settled in the convent of St. Nicholas of Tolentino. Caraffa’s term for discharging the office of general expired after three years, in 1530, and St. Cajetan was chosen in his room. It was with great reluctance that he accepted that charge, but the sanctity, zeal, and prudence with which he labored to advance the divine honor, especially by inspiring ecclesiastics with fervor and the contempt of the world, drew the esteem of the whole world on his Order. The fruits of his charity were most conspicuous during a raging plague which was brought to Venice from the Levant, and followed by a dreadful famine. Excited by his example, Jerom Emiliani, a noble Venetian, in 1530, founded another congregation of regular clerks, called Somasches, from the place where they lived, between Milan and Bergamo, the design of which was to breed up orphans, and such children as were destitute of the means of a suitable education.

At the end of the three years of Cajetan’s office, Caraffa was made general a second time, and our saint was sent to Verona, where both the clergy and laity were in the greatest ferment, tumultuously opposing certain articles of reformation of discipline which their bishop was endeavoring to introduce among them. The saint in a short time restored the public tranquillity, and brought the people unanimously and cheerfully to submit to a wholesome reformation, of which they themselves would reap all the advantages. Shortly after, he was called to Naples to found a convent of his Order in that city. The count of Oppido bestowed on him a convenient large house for that purpose, and used the most pressing importunities to prevail upon him to accept a donation of an estate in lands: but this the saint constantly refused. A general reformation of manners at Naples both in the clergy and laity was the fruit of his example, preaching, and indefatigable labors. No occupations made him deprive himself of the comfort and succor of his daily long exercises of holy prayer, which he sometimes continued for six or seven hours together, and in which he was often favored with extraordinary raptures. In 1534 Caraffa was created cardinal by Paul III., Clement the VIIth’s successor. He was afterward raised to the papacy upon the death of Marcellus II. in 1555, and died in 1559. Our saint was then gone to receive the recompense of his labors. In 1537 he went back to Venice, being made general a second time; but, after his three years were expired, returned to Naples, and governed the house of his Order in that city till his happy death. Being worn out by austerities, labors, and a lingering distemper, he at length perceived his last hour to approach. When his physicians advised him not to lie on the hard boards, but to use a coarse bed in his sickness, his answer was: “My Saviour died on a cross, suffer me a least to die on ashes.” His importunity prevailing, he was laid on a sackcloth spread on the floor, and strewed with ashes; and in that penitential posture he received the last sacraments, and calmly expired in the greatest sentiments of compunction on the 7th of August, 1547. Many miracles wrought by his intercession were approved at Rome after a rigorous scrutiny, a history of which is published by Pinius the Bollandist. St. Cajetan was beatified by Urban VIII. in 1629, and canonized by Clement X. in 1671. His remains are enshrined in the church of St. Paul at Naples.*

The example of this saint inculcates to us the holy maxims of disinterestedness which Christ has laid down in his gospels. He teaches us, that all inordinate desire, or excess of solicitude for the goods of this world, is a grievous evil, and extremely prejudicial to all Christian virtues; he presses upon all his followers the duty of fighting against it in the strongest terms, and explains the rigorous extent of his precept in this regard.1 It is incredible how much avarice steels the heart against all impressions of charity, and even of humanity, and excludes all true ideas of spiritual and heavenly things. The most perfect disinterestedness and contempt of the world, necessary in all Christians, is more essentially the virtue of the ministers of the altar; it always formed the character of every holy pastor. But, alas how often does the idol of covetousness, to the grievous scandal of the faithful, and profanation of all that is sacred or good, now-a-days find a place in the sanctuary itself! New fences against this evil have been often set up but all become ineffectual in those who do not study perfectly to ground their souls in the true spirit of the opposite virtue.

AUGUST 7 — ST. DONATUS, BISHOP OF AREZZO IN TUSCANY, M

Being illustrious for sanctity and miracles, as St. Gregory the Great as sures us, he was apprehended by Quadratianus, the Augustalis, or imperial prefect of Tuscany, in the reign of Julian the Apostate. Refusing to adore the idols, he suffered many torments with invincible constancy, and at length finished his martyrdom by the sword in 361. His relics are enshrined in the cathedral of Arezzo. At the same time and place St. Hilarinus, a monk, received the like crown, being beaten to death with clubs. His relics were afterward translated to Ostia. See the Martyrologies.

AUGUST 8 — SAINTS CYRIACUS, LARGUS SMARAGDUS AND THEIR COMPANIONS, MARTYRS

A. D. 303.

ST. CYRIACUS was a holy deacon at Rome, under the popes Marcellinus and Marcellus. In the persecution of Dioclesian, in 303, he was crowned with a glorious martyrdom in that city. With him suffered also Largus and Smaragdus, and twenty others, among whom are named Crescentianus, Sergius, Secondus, Alban, Victorianus, Faustinus, Felix, Sylvanus, and four women, Memmia, Juliana, Cyriacides, and Donata. Their bodies were first buried near the place of their execution on the Salarian way; but were soon after translated into a farm of the devout lady Lucina, on the Ostian road, on this eighth day of August, as is recorded in the ancient Liberian Calendar, and others.

To honor the martyrs and duly celebrate their festivals, we must learn their spirit, and study to imitate them according to the circumstances of our state. We must, like them, resist evil unto blood, must subdue our passions, suffer afflictions with patience, and bear with others without murmuring or complaining. Many practise voluntary austerities cheerfully, only because they are of their own choice. But true patience requires, in the first place, that we bear all afflictions and contradictions from whatever quarter they come; and in this consists true virtue. Though we pray for heaven our prayers will not avail, unless we make use of the means which God sends to bring us thither. The cross is the ladder by which we must ascend.

AUGUST 8 — ST. HORMISDAS, M

Isdegerdes, king of Persia, renewed the persecution which Cosroes II. had raised against the Church. It is not easy, says Theodoret, to describe or express the cruelties which were then invented against the disciples of Christ. Some were flayed alive, others had the skin torn from off their backs only, others off their faces from the forehead to the chin. Some were stuck all over with reeds split in two, and appeared like porcupines; then these reeds were forcibly plucked out, so as to bring off the skin with them. Some were bound hands and feet, and in that condition thrown into great vaults which were filled with hungry rats, mice, or other such vermin, which gnawed and devoured them by degrees, without their being able to defend themselves. Nevertheless, these cruelties hindered not the Christians from running with joy to meet death, that they might gain eternal life. Isdegerdes dying, the persecution was carried on by his son Varanes; and Hormisdas was one of the most illustrious victims of his tyranny and malice. He was of the chief nobility among the Persians, son to the governor of a province, and of the race of the Achemenides. Varanes sent for him, and commanded him to renounce Jesus Christ. Hormisdas answered him: “That this would offend God, and transgress the laws of charity and justice; that whoever dares to violate the supreme law of the sovereign Lord of all things, would more easily betray his king, who is only a mortal man. If the latter be a crime deserving the worst of deaths, what must it be to renounce the God of the universe?” The king was enraged at this wise and just answer, and caused him to be deprived of his office, honors, and goods, and even stripped of his very clothes, except a small piece of linen that went round his waist; and ordered him in this naked condition to drive and look after the camels of the army. A long time after, the king, looking out of his chamber-window, saw Hormisdas all sun-burnt, and covered with dust, and calling to mind his former dignity and riches, and the high station of his father, sent for him, ordered a shirt to be given him, and said to him, “Now at least lay aside thy obstinacy, and renounce the carpenter’s son.” The saint, transported with holy zeal, tore the shirt or tunic,* and threw it away, saying, “If you thought that I should so easily be tempted to abandon the law of God, keep your fine present with your impiety.” The king, incensed at his boldness, banished him again with indignation from his presence. St. Hormisdas happily finished his course; and is named in the Roman Martyrology. The same tyrant, when Suenes, a nobleman of Persia, who was master of one thousand slaves, was inflexible in the profession of his faith, asked him which was the meanest and vilest among all his slaves, and to him that was named he gave all the rest, and Suenes himself, and his wife. The confessor still continued firm in the faith. See Theodoret, Hist. Eccl. b. 5, c. 39.

AUGUST 9 — ST. ROMANUS, M

He was a soldier in Rome at the time of the martyrdom of St. Laurence. Seeing the joy and constancy with which that holy martyr suffered his torments, he was moved to embrace the faith, and addressing himself to St. Laurence, was instructed and baptized by him in prison. Confessing aloud what he had done, he was arraigned, condemned, and beheaded, the day before the martyrdom of St. Laurence. Thus he arrived at his crown before his guide and master. The body of St. Romanus was first buried on the road to Tibur, but his remains were translated to Lucca, where they are kept under the high altar of a beautiful church which bears his name. St. Romanus is mentioned on this day in the Antiphonary of St. Gregory, and in ancient Martyrologies.

The example of the martyrs and other primitive saints, by the powerful grace of God, had not less force in converting infidels than the most evident miracles. St. Justin observed to the heathens that many of them by living among Christians, and seeing their virtue, if they did not embrace the faith, at least were worked into a change of manners, were become meek and affable, from being overbearing, violent, and passionate; and by seeing the patience, constancy, and contempt of the world which the Christians practised, had learned themselves some degree of those virtues.1 Thus are we bound to glorify God by our lives, and Christ commands that our good works shine before men. St. Clement of Alexandria2 tells us that it was the usual saying of the apostle St. Matthias, “the faithful sins if his neighbor sins.” Such ought to be the zeal of every one to instruct and edify his neighbor by word and example. But woe to us on whose hearts no edifying examples or instructions, even of saints, make any impression! And still a more dreadful woe to us who by our lukewarmness and scandalous lives are to others an odor not of life, but of death, and draw the reproaches of infidels on our holy religion and its divine author!

AUGUST 9 — ST. NATHY OR DAVID, PRIEST PATRON OF THE DIOCESS OF ACHONRY, ANCIENTLY CALLED ACHAD, IN IRELAND

St. Finian, bishop of Clonard, built this church in 530, and gave it to his disciple Nathy, called also Dathy, which in Irish signifies David, a man of great sanctity. He is surnamed Comrah and Cruimthir. The former, Harris thinks, bears the sense of consecrated or elected. Cruimthir signifies in old Irish a priest, the same as sagart in modern Irish. In St. Finian’s life he is only styled priest; but in St. Fechin’s, prelate or abbot. Harris thinks he was raised to the episcopal dignity; but Colgan, with all ancient annals, calls him only priest, though this church was made a bishop’s see soon after his time. In the Annals of Ireland the bishops of Achonry are often styled of Luigny or Leny, from the little province or barony in which Achonry is situated. The church is dedicated in memory of St. Nathy, and his festival is celebrated on the 9th of August. See Colgan in MSS. on this day, and Ware, p. 658.

AUGUST 9 — ST. FEDLIMID OR FELIMY, BISHOP OF KILMORE, C

He lived in the sixth century, and is said to have been brother to St. Dermod,* abbot of Iniscloghran. He died on the 9th of August, and seems the same whom the registry of Clogher styles bishop of Cluain or Clunes, near Lough-Erne, and says he was buried there near St. Tigernagh, first bishop of that see. These two brothers were contemporary with St. Kiaran of Clonmacnois, who died in 549, and with St. Senan, who died in 544. St. Fedlimid was bishop of Kilmore, which name signifies greet church or cell, though the bishopric was only fixed at Kilmore in the great church of St. Fedlimid there (which was before only parochial, but is now the cathedral), by the confirmation of pope Nicholas V., in 1454, and is often styled Brefiniensis or Triburnensis, because it was before settled at Brefiny or Brefne, and afterward at Triburna, now an obscure village. St. Fedlimid’s festival is kept with great solemnity throughout this diocess with an octave and indulgence. See Colgan in MSS., ad 2 Aug., and Ware, p. 226.

AUGUST 10 — ST. LAURENCE, M

From St. Ambrose, De Offic.1. 1, c. 41,1. 2, c. 48, the four panegyrics of St. Austin, Serm 302, 303, 304, 305, besides four others in the Appendix to his Sermons, and his seventy-two hom. in Joan., two under the name of St. Ambrose; Prudent., hym. 2, de Cor., St. Leo. Serm. 83. St. Peter Chrysol., Serm. 135; St. Maximus Taurin. Serm. 56, St. Fulgentius, &c. The Acts of St. Laurence being a modern compilation are not here made use of. See Tillemont, t. 4.

A. D. 258.

THERE are few martyrs in the Church, whose names are so famous as that of the glorious St. Laurence, in whose praises the most illustrious among the Latin fathers have exerted their eloquence, and whose triumph, to use the words of St. Maximus, the whole Church joins in a body to honor with universal joy and devotion. The ancient fathers make no mention of his birth or education, but the Spaniards call him their countryman. His extraordinary virtue in his youth recommended him to St. Xystus, then archdeacon of Rome, who took him under his protection, and would be himself his instructor in the study of the holy scriptures, and in the maxims of Christian perfection. St. Xystus being raised to the pontificate in 257, he ordained Laurence deacon; and though he was yet young, appointed him the first among the seven deacons who served in the Roman church; hence by several fathers he is called the pope’s archdeacon. This was a charge of great trust, to which was annexed the care of the treasury and riches of the church, and the distribution of its revenues among the poor. How faithful and disinterested our holy deacon was in the discharge of this important and difficult office appears from the sequel.

The emperor Valerian, through the persuasion of Macrian, in 257, published his bloody edicts against the Church, which he foolishly flattered himself he was able to destroy, not knowing it to be the work of the Almighty. That by cutting off the shepherds he might disperse the flocks, he commanded all bishops, priests, and deacons, to be put to death without delay. The holy pope St. Xystus, the second of that name, was apprehended the year following. As he was led to execution, his deacon, St. Laurence, followed him weeping; and judging himself ill-treated, because he was not to die with him, said to him, “Father, where are you going without your son? Whither are you going, O holy priest, without your deacon? You were never wont to offer sacrifice without me, your minister. Wherein have I displeased you? Have you found me wanting to my duty? Try me now, and see, whether you have made choice of an unfit minister for dispensing the blood of the Lord.” He could not, without a holy envy, behold his bishop go to martyrdom, and himself left behind; and being inflamed with a desire to die for Christ, he burst into this complaint. From the love of God, and an earnest longing to be with Christ, he contemned liberty and life, and thought of no other honor but that of suffering for his Lord. Hence he reputed the world as nothing, and accounted it his happiness to leave it, that he might come to the enjoyment of his God; for this he grieved to see himself at liberty, was desirous to be in chains, and was impatient for the rack. The holy pope, at the sight of his grief, was moved to tenderness and compassion, and comforting him, he answered, “I do no leave you, my son; but a greater trial and a more glorious victory are reserved for you who are stout and in the vigor of youth. We are spared on account of our weakness and old age. You shall follow me in three days.” He added a charge to distribute immediately among the poor the treasures of the Church which were committed to his care, lest the poor should be robbed of their patrimony if it should fall into the hands of the persecutors. Laurence was full of joy, hearing that he should be so soon called to God, set out immediately to seek all the poor widows and orphans, and gave among them all the money which he had in his hands; he even sold the sacred vessels to increase the sum, employing it all in the like manner. The Church as Rome was then possessed of considerable riches. For, besides the necessary provision of its ministers, it maintained many widows and virgins, and fifteen hundred poor people, of whose names the bishop or his archdeacon kept the list; and it often sent large alms into distant countries. It had likewise very rich ornaments and vessels for the celebration of the divine mysteries, as appears from Tertullian, and the profane heathen scoffer, Lucian. Eusebius tells us,1 that the magnificence of the sacred vessels inflamed the covetousness of the persecutors. St. Optatus says,2 that in the persecution of Dioclesian the churches had very many ornaments of gold and silver. St. Ambrose,3 speaking of St. Laurence, mentions consecrated vessels of gold and silver; and Prudentius speaks of chalices of gold and silver, embossed, and set with jewels.

The prefect of Rome was informed of these riches, and imagining that the Christians had hid considerable treasures, he was extremely desirous to secure them; for he was no less a worshipper of gold and silver than of Jupiter and Mars. With this view he sent for St. Laurence, to whose care these treasures were committed. As soon as he appeared, he said to him, according to Prudentius, “You often complain that we treat you with cruelty; but no tortures are here thought of; I only inquire mildly after what concerns you. I am informed that your priests offer in gold, that the sacred blood is received in silver cups, and that in your nocturnal sacrifices you have wax tapers fixed in golden candlesticks. Bring to light these concealed treasures; the prince has need of them for the maintenance of his forces. I am told, that according to your doctrine you must render to Cæsar the things that belong to him. I do not think that your God causeth money to be coined; he brought none into the world with him; he only brought words. Give us therefore the money, and be rich in words.” St. Laurence replied without showing any concern, “The Church is indeed rich; nor hath the emperor any treasure equal to what it possesseth. I will show you a valuable part; but allow me a little time to set everything in order, and to make an inventory.” The prefect did not understand of what treasure Laurence spoke, but imagining himself already possessed of hidden wealth, was satisfied with this answer, and granted him three days’ respite. During this interval, Laurence went all over the city, seeking out in every street the poor who were supported by the Church, and with whom no other was so well acquainted. On the third day he gathered together a great number of them before the church, and placed them in rows, the decrepit, the blind, the lame, the maimed, the lepers, orphans, widows, and virgins; then he went to the prefect, invited him to come and see the treasure of the Church, and conducted him to the place. The prefect, astonished to see such a number of poor wretches, who made a horrid sight, turned to the holy deacon with looks full of disorder and threatenings, and asked him what all this meant, and where the treasures were which he had promised to show him. St. Laurence answered, “What are you displeased at? The gold which you so eagerly desire is a vile metal and serves to incite men to all manner of crimes. The light of heaven is the true gold, which these poor objects enjoy. Their bodily weakness and sufferings are the subject of their patience, and the highest advantages; vices and passions are the real diseases by which the great ones of the world are often most truly miserable and despicable. Behold in these poor persons the treasures which I promised to show you; to which I will add pearls* and precious stones,—those widows and consecrated virgins, which are the Church’s crown, by which it is pleasing to Christ; it hath no other riches: make use then of them for the advantage of Rome, of the emperor, and yourself.” Thus he exhorted him as Daniel did Nabuchodonosor, to redeem his sins by sincere repentance and almsdeeds, and showed him where the Church placed its treasure. The earthly-minded man was far from forming so noble an idea of an object, the sight of which offended his carnal eyes, and he cried out in a transport of rage, “Do you thus mock me? Is it thus that the axes and the fasces, the sacred ensigns of the Roman power, are insulted? I know that you desire to die; this is your phrensy and vanity: but you shall not die immediately, as you imagine. I will protract your tortures, that your death may be the more bitter as it shall be slower. You shall die by inches.” Then he caused a great gridiron to be made ready, and live coals almost extinguished to be thrown under it, that the martyr might be slowly burnt. Laurence was stripped, extended, and bound with chains, upon this iron bed over a slow fire, which broiled his flesh by little and little, piercing at length to his very bowels. His face appeared to the Christians newly baptized, to be surrounded with a beautiful extraordinary light, and his broiled body to exhale a sweet agreeable smell; but the unbelievers neither saw this light nor perceived this smell. The martyr felt not the torments of the persecutor, says St. Austin, so vehement was his desire of possessing Christ; and St. Ambrose observes, that whilst his body broiled in the material flames, the fire of divine love, which was far more active within his breast, made him regardless of the pain: having the law of God before his eyes, he esteemed his torments to be a refreshment and a comfort. Such was the tranquillity and peace of mind which he enjoyed amidst his torments, that having suffered a long time, he turned to the judge, and said to him, with a cheerful and smiling countenance, “Let my body be now turned; one side is broiled enough.” When, by the prefect’s order, the executioner had turned him, he said, “It is dressed enough, you may eat.” The prefect insulted him, but the martyr continued in earnest prayer, with sighs and tears imploring the divine mercy with his last breath for the conversion of the city of Rome. This he begged Christ speedily to accomplish, who had subjected the world to this city, that his faith might, by triumphing one day in it, more easily spread itself from the head over all the provinces or members of its empire. This grace he asked of God for that city for the sake of the two apostles, St. Peter and St. Paul, who had there begun to plant the cross of Christ, and had watered that city with their blood. The saint having finished his prayer, and completed his holocaust, lifting up his eyes towards heaven, gave up the ghost.

Prudentius doubts not to ascribe to his prayer the entire conversion of Rome, and says, God began to grant his request at the very time he put it up; for several senators who were present at his death, were so powerfully moved by his tender and heroic fortitude and piety, that they became Christians upon the spot. These noblemen took up the martyr’s body on their shoulders,* and gave it an honorable burial in the Veran field, near the road to Tibur, on the 10th of August in 258. His death, says Prudentius, was the death of idolatry in Rome, which from that time began more sensibly to decline; and now, adds the same father, the senate itself† venerates the tombs of the apostles and martyrs. He describes with what devotion and fervor the Romans frequented the church of St. Laurence, and commended themselves in all their necessities to his patronage; and the happy success of their prayers proves how great his power is with God. The poet implores the mercy of Christ for himself, and begs he may obtain by the prayers of the martyrs‡ what his own cannot. St. Austin assures us that God wrought in Rome an incredible number of miracles through the intercession of St. Laurence. St. Gregory of Tours, Fortunatus, and others, relate several performed in other places. It appears from the sacramentary of pope Gelasius, that his feast has been kept with a vigil and an octave at least ever since the fifth age. In the reign of Constantine the Great, a church was built over his tomb, on the road to Tibur, which is called St. Laurence’s without the walls; it is one of the five patriarchal churches in Rome. Seven other famous churches in that city bear the name of this glorious saint.

In St. Laurence we have a sensible demonstration how powerful the grace of Jesus Christ is, which is able to sweeten whatever is bitter and harsh to flesh and blood. If we had the resolution and fervor of the saints in the practice of devotion, we should find all seeming difficulties which discourage our pusillanimity to be mere shadows and phantoms. A lively faith, like that of the martyrs, would make us, with them, contemn the honors and pleasures of the world, and measure the goods and evils of this life, and judge of them, not by nature, but by the light and principles of faith only; and did we sincerely love God, as they did, we should embrace his holy will with joy in all things, have no other desire, and find no happiness but in it. If we are dejected or impatient under troubles, indulge murmurs and complaints, or call ourselves unhappy in them, it is evident that inordinate self-love reigns in our hearts, and that we seek our own inclinations more than the will of God. The state of suffering is the true test of our love, by which we may judge whether in duties that are agreeable to nature we love the will of God, or only do in them our own will. If self-love discovers itself in our sufferings, all the rest of our lives is to be suspected of the same disorder; nor can we easily give any other evidence that faith and divine love are the principles of our actions.

AUGUST 10 — ST. DEUSDEDIT, C

He was a poor laboring man, who sanctified all his actions by assiduous prayer and penance. He distributed among the poor every Saturday all he could save from what he earned in the week. See the Roman Martyrology, and St. Gregory, Dia1.1. 4, c. 46.

AUGUST 10 — ST. BLAAN, DISCIPLE OF ST. CONGALL IN IRELAND AND AFTERWARDS BISHOP OF KINNGARADHA, AMONG THE PICTS IN SCOTLAND

He made a voyage of devotion to Rome, and died about the year 446. The place where he was buried is called from him Dunblain, and was always an episcopal see until the change of religion. St. Blaan is honored on the 19th of July and the 10th of August. We have several sacred hymns of his, instructions for catechumens, and other pious works. See Colgan MSS. ad 10 Aug. Dempster, Leland, Tanner, and his life by G. Newton, archdeacon of Dunblain in 1505.

AUGUST 11 — SAINTS TIBURTIUS, M. AND CHROMATIUS, C

Abridged from the Acts of St. Sebastian, &c.

A. D. 286.

AGRESTIUS CHROMATIUS was vicar to the prefect of Rome, and had condemned several martyrs in the reign of Carinus; and, in the first years of Dioclesian, St. Tranquillinus being brought before him, assured him, that having been afflicted with the gout, he had recovered a perfect state of health by being baptized. Chromatius was troubled with the same distemper, and being convinced by this miracle of the truth of the gospel, sent for Polycarp, the priest who had baptized Tranquillinus, and receiving the sacrament of baptism, was freed from that corporal infirmity, by which miracle God was pleased to give him a sensible emblem of the spiritual health which that holy laver conferred on his soul; from that time he harbored many Christians in his house, to shelter them from the persecution, and resigned his dignity, in which he was succeeded by one Fabian. Chromatius’s son Tiburtius, was ordained subdeacon, and was soon after betrayed to the persecutors, condemned by Fabian to many torments, and at length beheaded on the Lavican road, three miles from Rome, where a church was afterward built. He is mentioned in several ancient Martyrologies with his father Chromatius, who, retiring into the country, lived there concealed in the fervent practice of all Christian virtues.

AUGUST 11 — ST. SUSANNA, V. M

Third Age

SHE was nobly born in Rome, and is said to have been niece to Pope Caius. Having made a vow of virginity, she refused to marry; on which account she was impeached as a Christian, and suffered with heroic constancy a cruel martyrdom. No genuine acts of her life are now extant: but she is commemorated in many ancient Martyrologies, and the famous church which is at present served by Cistercian monks, has born her name ever since the fifth century, when it was one of the titles or parishes of Rome. St. Susanna suffered towards the beginning of Dioclesian’s reign, about the year 295.

Sufferings were to the martyrs the most distinguishing mercy, extraordinary graces, and sources of the greatest crowns and glory. All afflictions which God sends are in like manner the greatest mercies and blessings; they are the most precious talents to be improved by us to the increasing of our love and affection to God, and the exercise of the most heroic virtues of self-denial, patience, humility, resignation, and penance. They are also most useful and necessary to bring us to the knowledge of ourselves and our Creator, which we are too apt to forget without them. Wherefore whatever crosses or calamities befall us, we must be prepared to bear them with a patient resignation to the divine will; we ought to learn from the martyrs to comfort ourselves, and to rejoice in them, as the greatest blessings. How base is our cowardice, and how criminal our folly, if, by neglecting to improve these advantageous talents of sickness, losses, and other afflictions, we make the most precious mercies our heaviest curse! By honoring the martyrs, we pronounce our own condemnation.

AUGUST 11 — ST. GERY, OR GAUGERICUS, C

He was a native of Yvois, in the diocess of Triers, at present a small but strong town in the duchy of Luxemburg. He was brought up at home in the study of sacred learning, and in the assiduous practice of self-denial, watching, prayer, and almsdeeds. This private education preserved him from that corruption of morals and sentiments into which youth too often fall, whilst to fashion themselves to the polite and refined manners of the world they are trained up in pleasure and vanity, and frequently exposed to the most baneful influence of bad company. St. Magneric, the successor of St. Nicetas in the bishopric of Triers, coming to Yvois was much delighted with the sanctity and talents of St. Gery, and ordained him deacon; from that moment the saint redoubled his fervor in the exercise of all good works, and applied himself with unwearied zeal to the functions of his sacred ministry, especially to the instruction of the faithful.

The reputation of his virtue and learning raised him to the episcopal chair of Cambray and Arras, which sees remained united from the death of St. Vedast to the year 1093.* This saint continued his labors in that charge for thirty-nine years, and entirely extirpated out of that country the remains of idolatry. Lest through the multitude of affairs he should in any degree forget that the sanctification of his own soul was his first and most essential duty, and that, without attending to this in the first place, he could hope for little fruit of his labors for the salvation of others, and could not expect that God would make any account of them, he was careful to season them with assiduous recollection, prayer, and self-examination; but from time to time he betook himself to some retired solitude there to attend to God alone, and to recommend to him, by fervent prayer, the souls entrusted to his care. Among other miracles recounted of him, it is related by the author of his life, that at Yvois a leper was healed by being baptized by him; which aptly represented the interior cleansing of the soul from sin. St. Gery was called to eternal rest on the 11th of August, 619, and was buried in the church which he had built in honor of St. Medard. This being demolished by the emperor Charles V. for the building of the citadel, the canons were removed, and took with them the relics of our saint, to an old church of St. Vedast, which from that time has borne the name of St. Gery. See the authentic life of this saint written by the same judicious author who compiled the Chronicle of Cambray, also Chatillon, Series Episc. Camerac. et Atrebat. Boschius the Bollandist, ad 11 Aug. Buzelin.

AUGUST 11 — ST. EQUITIUS, ABBOT

He flourished in Abruzzo at the same time that St. Bennet established his rule at Mount Cassino. In his youth he was molested with violent temptations of the flesh, to which he opposed austerities and continual prayer; and at length God was pleased entirely to free him from the stings of that domestic enemy. He peopled the whole province of Valeria with fervent monks, who lived dispersed through the woods and fields, and were all employed in prayer and manual labor. St. Equitius visited and instructed them, and sometimes invited and exhorted the people in the towns and villages to the love and service of God. He being only a layman, this was misconstrued by some persons, as if the servant of God had thereby usurped an ecclesiastical function; but the pope, after being fully informed, forbade him to be interrupted in giving private exhortations, an office of charity in which the Holy Ghost seemed to be his master. He worked the whole day in the fields, except when he was taken up in the visitation of his disciples, and only returned to his hermitage in the evening fatigued with his labor. He went in coarse and ragged clothes, and his whole life breathed the air of austere penance and fervent charity and devotion. He took under his direction a numerous monastery of holy virgins, but never allowed any young monk to come near it. He was favored with the gift of prophecy, and died about the year 540. His remains are kept with honor in the church of St. Laurence in Aquila. See St. Gregory, Dia1.1. 1, c. 4.

AUGUST 12 — ST. CLARE, VIRGIN AND ABBESS

From her authentic life, written soon after her death, by order of pope Alexander IV., who had pronounces her funeral panegyric whilst cardinal of Ostia, and who canonized her two years after. See also the annals of the Franciscan Order, compiled by the learned F. Luke Wading, her life published in English; F. Sbarala, &c.

A. D. 1253.

ST. CLARE was daughter to Phavorino Sciffo, a noble knight who had distinguished himself in the wars, and his virtuous spouse called Hortulana. These illustrious personages, who held the first rank at Assisium for their birth and riches, were still more eminent for their extraordinary piety. They had three daughters, Clare, Agnes, and Beatrice.* St. Clare was born in 1193 at Assisium, a city in Italy, built on a stony mountain called Assi; from her infancy she was extremely charitable and devout. It was her custom to count her task of Paters and Aves by a certain number of little stones in her lap, in imitation of some ancient anchorets in the East.† Her parents began to talk to her very early of marriage, which gave her great affliction; for it was her most ardent desire to have no other spouse but Jesus Christ. Hearing the great reputation of St. Francis, who set an example of perfection to the whole city, she found means to be conducted to him by a pious matron, and begged his instruction and advice. He spoke to her on the contempt of the world, the shortness of life, and the love of God and heavenly things in such a manner as warmed her tender breast; and, upon the spot, she formed a resolution of renouncing the world. St. Francis appointed Palm-Sunday for the day on which she should come to him. On that day Clare, dressed in her most sumptuous apparel, went with her mother and family to the divine office; but when all the rest went up to the altar to receive a palm-branch, bashfulness and modesty kept her in her place; which the bishop seeing, he went from the altar down to her and gave her the palm. She attended the procession; but, the evening following it being the 18th of March, 1212, she made her escape from home, accompanied with another devout young woman, and went a mile out of the town to the Portiuncula, where St. Francis lived with his little community. He and his religious brethren met her at the door of their church of our Lady with lighted tapers in their hands, singing the hymn, Veni Creator Spiritus. Before the altar of the Blessed Virgin she put off her fine clothes, and St. Francis cut off her hair, and gave her his penitential habit, which was no other than a piece of sackcloth, tied about her with a cord. The holy father not having yet any nunnery of his own, placed her for the present in the Benedictin nunnery of St. Paul, where she was affectionately received, being then eighteen years of age. The Poor Clares date from this epoch the foundation of their Order.

No sooner was this action of the holy virgin made public, but the world conspired unanimously to condemn it, and her friends and relations came in a body to draw her out of her retreat. Clare resisted their violence, and held the altar so fast as to pull the holy cloths half off it when they endeavored to drag her away; and, uncovering her head to show her hair cut, she said that Christ had called her to his service, and that she would have no other spouse of her soul; and that the more they should continue to persecute her, the more God would strengthen her to resist and overcome them. They reproached her that by embracing so poor and mean a life she disgraced her family; but she bore their insults, and God triumphed in her. St. Francis soon after removed her to another nunnery, that of St. Angelo of Panso near Assisium, which was also of St. Bennet’s Order. There her sister Agnes joined her in her undertaking; which drew on them both a fresh persecution, and twelve men abused Agnes both with words and blows, and dragged her on the ground to the door, whilst she cried out, “Help me, sister; permit me not to be separated from our Lord Jesus Christ, and your loving company.” Her constancy proved at last victorious, and St. Francis gave her also the habit, though she was only fourteen years of age. He placed them in a new mean house contiguous to the church of St. Damian, situated on the skirts of the city Assisium, and appointed Clare the superior. She was soon after joined by her mother Hortulana and several ladies of her kindred and others to the number of sixteen, among whom three were of the illustrious family of the Ubaldini in Florence. Many noble princesses held for truer greatness the sackcloth and poverty of St. Clare than the estates, delights, and riches which they possessed, seeing they left them all to become humble disciples of so holy and admirable a mistress. St. Clare founded, within a few years, monasteries at Perugia, Arezzo, Padua, that of SS. Cosmas and Damian in Rome; at Venice, Mantua, Bologna, Spoletto, Milan, Sienna, Pisa, &c., also in many principal towns in Germany. Agnes, daughter to the king of Bohemia, founded a nunnery of her Order in Prague, in which herself took the habit.

St. Clare and her community practised austerities, which, till then, had scarce ever been known among the tender sex. They wore neither stockings, shoes, sandals, nor any other covering on their feet; they lay on the ground, observed a perpetual abstinence, and never spoke but when they were obliged to it by the indispensable duties of necessity and charity. The foundress in her rule extremely recommends this holy silence as the means to retrench innumerable sins of the tongue, and to preserve the mind always recollected in God, and free from the dissipation of the world, which, without this guard, penetrates the walls of cloisters. Not content with the four Lents, and the other general mortifications of her rule, she always wore next her skin a rough shift of horse-hair or of hog’s bristles cut short; she fasted church vigils and all Lent on bread and water: and from the 11th of November to Christmas-day, and during these times on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, ate nothing at all. She sometimes strewed the ground on which she lay with twigs, having a block for her bolster. Her disciplines, watchings, and other austerities were incredible, especially in a person of so tender a constitution. Being reduced to great weakness, and to a very sickly state of health, St. Francis and the bishop of Assisium obliged her to lie upon a little chaff, and never pass one day without taking at least some bread for nourishment. Under her greatest corporal austerities her countenance was always mild and cheerful, demonstrating that true love makes penance sweet and easy. Her esteem of holy poverty was most admirable. She looked upon it as the retrenchment of the most dangerous objects of the passions and self-love, and as the great school of patience and mortification, by the perpetual inconveniences and sufferings which it lays persons under, and which the spirit of Christ crucified teaches us to bear with patience and joy. It carries along with it the perfect disengagement of the heart from the world, in which the essence of true devotion consists. The saint considered in what degree Christ, having for our sakes relinquished the riches of his glory, practised holy poverty, in his birth, without house or other temporal conveniency; and during his holy ministry, without a place to lay his head in, and living on voluntary contributions; but, above all, his poverty, nakedness, and humiliation on the cross and at his sacred death, were deeply imprinted on her mind, and she ardently sought to bear for his sake some resemblance of that state which he had assumed for us to apply a proper remedy to our spiritual wounds, and heal the corruption of our nature.

St. Francis instituted that his Order should never possess any rents, even in common, subsisting on daily contributions. St. Clare possessed this spirit in such perfection, that when her large fortune fell to her, by the death of her father, after her profession, she gave the whole to the poor, without reserving one single farthing for the monastery. Pope Gregory IX. desired to mitigate this part of her rule, and offered to settle a yearly revenue on her monastery of St. Damian’s; but she in the most pressing manner persuaded him by many reasons, in which her love of evangelical poverty made her eloquent, to leave her Order in its first rigorous establishment. Whilst others asked riches, Clare presented again her most humble request to pope Innocent IV., that he would confirm to her Order the singular privilege of holy poverty, which he did, in 1251, by a bull written with his own hand, which he watered at the same nine with tears of devotion.* So dear was poverty to St. Clare chiefly for her great love of humility. Though superior, she would never allow herself any privilege or distinction. It was her highest ambition to be the servant of servants, always beneath all, washing the feet of the lay-sisters, and kissing them when they returned from begging, serving at table, attending the sick, and removing the most loathsome filth. When she prayed for the sick, she sent them to her other sisters, that their miraculous recovery might not be imputed to her prayers or merits. She was so true a daughter of obedience, that she had always, as it were, wings to fly wherever St. Francis directed her, and was always ready to execute anything, or to put her shoulders under any burden that was enjoined her; she was so crucified to her own will, as to seem entirely divested of it. This she expressed to her holy father as follows; “Dispose of me as you please; I am yours by having consecrated my will to God. It is no longer my own.”

Prayer was her spiritual comfort and strength, and she seemed scarce ever to interrupt that holy exercise. She often prostrated herself on the ground, kissed it, and watered it with many tears. Whilst her sisters took their rest she watched long in prayer, and was always the first that rose, rung the bell in the choir, and lighted the candles. She came from prayer with her face so ought and inflamed (like that of Moses descending from conversing with God) that it often dazzled the eyes of those who beheld her; and every one perceived by her words that she came from her devotions; for she spoke with such a spirit and fervor as enkindled a flame in all who did but hear her voice, and diffused into their souls a great esteem of heavenly things. She communicated very often, and had a wonderful devotion towards the blessed sacrament. Even when she was sick in bed, she spun with her own hands fine linen for corporals, and for the service of the altar, which she distributed through all the churches of Assisium. In prayer she was often so absorbed in divine love as to forget herself and her corporal necessities. She on many occasions experienced the all-powerful force and efficacy of her holy prayer. A remarkable instance is mentioned in her life. The impious emperor Frederick II. cruelly ravaged the valley of Spoletto, because it was the patrimony of the holy see. He had in his army many Saracens and other barbarous infidels, and left in that country a colony of twenty thousand of these enemies of the church in a place still called Noura des Moros. These banditti came once in a great body to plunder Assisium, and as St. Damian’s convent stood without the walls, they first assaulted it. Whilst they were busy in scaling the walls, St. Clare, though very sick, caused herself to be carried and seated at the gate of the monastery, and the blessed sacrament to be placed there in a pix in the very sight of the enemies, and, prostrating herself before it, prayed with many tears, saying to her beloved spouse, “Is it possible, my God, that thou shouldst have here assembled these thy servants, and nurtured them up in thy holy love, that they should now fall into the power of these infidels, Moors. Preserve them, O my God, and me in their holy company.” At the end of her prayer she seemed to hear a sweet voice, which said, “I will always protect you.” A sudden terror, at the same time, seized the assailants, and they all fled with such precipitation that several were hurt without being wounded by any enemy. Another time, Vitalis Aversa, a great general of the same emperor, a cruel and proud man, laid siege to Assisium for many days. St. Clare said to her nuns, that they who had received corporal necessaries from that city, owed to it all assistance in their power in its extreme necessity. She therefore bid them cover their heads with ashes, and in this most suppliant posture beg of Christ the deliverance of the town. They continued pressing their request with many tears a whole day and night, till powerful succors arriving, the besiegers silently raised the siege, and retired without noise, and their general was soon after slain.

St. Francis was affected with the most singular and tender devotion towards the mysteries of Christ’s nativity and sacred passion. He used to assemble incredible numbers of the people to pass the whole Christmas night in the church in fervent prayer; and, at midnight, once preached with such fervor and tenderness, that he was not able to pronounce the name Jesus, but called him the little child of Bethlehem; and, in repeating these words, always melted away with tender love. St. Clare inherited this same devotion and tenderness to this holy mystery, and received many special favors from God in her prayers on that festival. As to the passion of Christ, St. Francis called it his perpetual book, and said he never desired to open any other but the history of it in the gospels, though he were to live to the world’s end. The like were the sentiments of St. Clare towards it; nor could she call to mind this adorable mystery without streams of tears, and the warmest emotions of tender love. In sickness particularly it was her constant entertainment. She was afflicted with continual diseases and pains for eight-and-twenty years, yet was always joyful, allowing herself no other indulgence than a little straw to lie on. Reginald, cardinal of Ostia, afterward pope Alexander IV., both visited her and wrote to her in the most humble manner. Pope Innocent IV. paid her a visit a little before her death, going from Perugia to Assisium on purpose, and conferring with her a long time on spiritual matters with wonderful comfort.

St. Clare bore her sickness and great pains without so much as speaking of them, and when brother Reginald exhorted her to patience, she said, “How much am I obliged to my sweet Redeemer! for since, by means of his servant Francis, I have tasted the bitterness of his holy passion, I have never in my whole life found any pain or sickness that could afflict me There is nothing insupportal le to a heart that loveth God, and to him that loveth not, everything is insupportable.” Agnes, seeing her dear sister and spiritual mother draw near her end, besought her with great affection and many tears, that she would take her along with her, and not leave her hero on earth, seeing they had been such faithful companions, and so united in the same spirit and desire of serving our Lord. The holy virgin comforted her, telling her it was the will of God she should not at present go along with her; but bade her be assured that she should shortly come to her, and so it happened. St. Clare seeing all her spiritual children weep, comforted them, and tenderly exhorted them to be constant lovers and faithful observers of holy poverty, and gave them her blessing, calling herself the little plant of her holy father St. Francis. The passion of Christ, at her request, was read to her in her agony, and she sweetly expired amidst the prayers and tears of her community, on the 11th of August, 1253, in the forty-second year after her religious profession, and the sixtieth of her age. She was buried on the day following, on which the Church keeps her festival. Pope Innocent IV. came again from Perugia, and assisted in person with the sacred college at her funeral. Alexander IV. canonized her at Anagnia in 1255. Her body was first buried at St. Damian’s; but the pope ordered a new monastery to be built for her nuns at the church of St. George within the walls, which was finished in 1260, when her relics were translated thither with great pomp. A new church was built here afterward which bears her name; in which, in 1265, pope Clement V. consecrated the high altar under her name, and her body lies under it. The body of St. Francis had lain in this church of St. George four years, when, in 1230, it was removed to that erected in his honor, in which it still remains. Camden remarks that the family name Sinclair among us is derived from St. Clare.

The example of this tender virgin, who renounced all the softness, superfluity, and vanity of her education, and engaged and persevered in a life of so much severity, is a reproach of our sloth and sensuality. Such extraordinary rigors are not required of us; but a constant practice of self-denial is indispensably enjoined us by the sacred rule of the gospel, which we all have most solemnly professed. Our backwardness in complying with this duty is owing to our lukewarmness, which creates in everything imaginary difficulties, and magnifies shadows. St. Clare, notwithstanding her continual extraordinary austerities, the grievous persecutions she had suffered and the pains of a sharp and tedious distemper with which she was afflicted, was surprised when she lay on her death-bed, to hear any one speak of her patience, saying, that from the time she had first given her heart to God, she had never met with anything to suffer, or to exercise her patience. This was the effect of her ardent charity. Let none embrace her holy institute without a fervor which inspires a cheerful eagerness to comply, in the most perfect manner, with all its rules and exercises; and without seriously studying to obtain, and daily improve, in their souls, her eminen spirit of poverty, humility, obedience, love of silence, mortification, recollection, prayer, and divine love. In this consists their sanctification; is this they will find all present and future blessings and happiness.

AUGUST 12 — ST. EUPLIUS, M

In Sicily, in the year 304, under the ninth consulate of Dioclesian, and the eighth of Maximian, on the 12th of August, in the city of Catana, Euplius, a deacon, was brought to the governor’s audience-chamber, and attending on the outside of the curtain, cried out, “I am a Christian, and shall rejoice to die for the name of Jesus Christ.” The governor, Calvisianus, who was of consular dignity, heard him, and ordered that he who had made that outcry should be brought in, and presented before him. Euplius went in with the book of the gospels in his hand. One of Calvisianus’s friends, named Maximus, said, “You ought not to keep such writings, contrary to the edicts of the emperors.” Calvisianus said to Euplius: “Where had you those writings? did you bring them from your own house?” Euplius replied, “That he had no house, but that he was seized with the book about him.” The judge bid him read something in it. The martyr opened it, and read the following verses, Blessed are they who suffer persecution for justice sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.1 And in another place, He that will come after me, let him take up his cross, and follow me.2 The judge asked what that meant. The martyr answered, “It is the law of my Lord, which hath been delivered to me.” Calvisianus said, “By whom?” Euplius answered, “By Jesus Christ, the Son of the living God.” Calvisianus then pronounced this interlocutory order, “Since his confession is evident, let him be delivered up to the executioners, and examined on the rack.” This was immediately done, and the martyr was interrogated accordingly. Whilst they were tormenting him the same day, Calvisianus asked him whether he persisted in his former sentiments? Euplius, making the sign of the cross on his forehead with the hand that he had at liberty, said, “What I formerly said I now declare again, that I am a Christian, and read the holy scriptures.” He added, that he durst not deliver up the sacred writings, by which he should have offended God, and that death was more eligible, by which he should gain eternal life. Calvisianus ordered him to be hoisted on the rack, and more cruelly tormented. The martyr said, whilst he was tormented, “I thank thee, O Lord Jesus Christ, that I suffer for thy sake: save me, I beseech thee.” Calvisianus said, “Lay aside thy folly; adore our gods, and thou shalt be set at liberty.” Euplius answered, “I adore Jesus Christ; I detest the devils. Do what you please; add new torments; for I am a Christian. I have long desired to be in the condition in which I now am.” After the executioners had tormented him a long time, Calvisianus bade them desist, and said: “Wretch, adore the gods; worship Mars, Apollo, and Æsculapius.” Euplius replied, “I adore the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. I worship the Holy Trinity, besides whom there is no God.” Calvisianus said, “Sacrifice, if you would be delivered.” Euplius answered, “I sacrifice myself now to Jesus Christ my God. All your efforts to move me are to no purpose. I am a Christian.” Then Calvisianus gave orders for increasing his torments.

Whilst the executioners were exerting their utmost in tormenting him, Euplius prayed thus, “I thank thee, my God; Jesus Christ, succor me. It is for thy name’s sake that I endure these torments.” This he repeated several times. When his strength failed him, his lips were seen still to move, the martyr continuing the same or the like prayer with his lips when he could no longer do it with his voice. At length Calvisianus went behind the curtain, and dictated his sentence, which a secretary wrote. Afterward he came out with a tablet in his hand, and read the following sentence, “I command that Euplius, a Christian, be put to death by the sword, for contemning the prince’s edicts, blaspheming the gods, and not repenting. Take him away.” The executioners hung the book of the gospels, which the martyr had with him when he was seized, about his neck, and the public crier proclaimed before him, “This is Euplius the Christian, an enemy to the gods and the emperors.” Euplius continued very cheerful, and repeated as he went, “I give thanks to Jesus Christ my God. Confirm, O Lord, what thou hast wrought in me.” When he was come to the place of execution, he prayed a long time on his knees, and once more returning thanks, presented his neck to the executioner, who cut off his head. The Christians carried off his body, embalmed and buried it. He is named in all the Martyrologies of the Western Church. See his genuine Acts in Baronius, Ruinart, Tillemont, t. 5, p. 695. Orsi. Those published by Metaphrastes are spurious.

AUGUST 12 — ST. MUREDACH FIRST BISHOP OF KILLALA IN IRELAND

St. Patrick, in his progress through Connaught, coming to a pleasant place where the river Moy empties itself into the ocean, built on the south banks a noble church called Kill-Aladh, of which he made Muredach, one of his disciples, bishop, about the year 440. It is situated in the county of Mayo. The bishops of this see have been sometimes called bishops of Tiramalgaid, now corrupted into the barony of Tirawly; sometimes of O-Fiacra-Mui, i. e. O-Fiacra, on the river Moy, a small territory; but since the twelfth century of Killala, from Kill-Aladh. The festival of St. Muredach is observed on the 12th of August. See Ware, t. 1, p. 649.

AUGUST 13 — ST. HIPPOLYTUS, M

From Prudent hymn. 11 De Cor. ed. a P. Chamillard, in usum Delphinl, p. 278.

A. D. 252.

ONE of the most illustrious martyrs who suffered in the reign of Gallus* was St. Hippolytus, one of the twenty-five priests of Rome, who had the misfortune for some time to have been deceived by the hypocrisy of Novatian and Novatus, and to have been engaged in their schism; but this fault he expiated by his public repentance, and a glorious martyrdom. He was apprehended, and interrogated on the rack in Rome; but the prefect of the city, having filled it with Christian blood, went to Ostia to extend the persecution in those parts of the country, and ordered our saint and several other Christians who were then in prison at Rome, to be conducted thither after him. St. Hippolytus being brought out of prison, many of those who had been under his care, came to beg his last advice and blessing, as he was going to martyrdom; and he vehemently exhorted them to preserve the unity of the Church. “Fly,” said he, “from the unhappy Novatus, and return to the Catholic Church. Adhere to the only faith which subsists from the beginning, which was preached by Paul, and is maintained by the chair of Peter. I now see things in a different light, and repent of what I once taught.” After he had thus undeceived his flock, and earnestly recommended to all the unity of holy faith, he was conducted to Ostia. The prefect, who was gone before the prisoners the same day, as soon as they arrived, ascended his tribunal, surrounded with his executioners, and various instruments of torture. The confessors were ranged in several companies before him, and by their emaciated faces, the length of their hair, and the filth with which they were covered, showed how much they had suffered by their long imprisonment. The judge, finding that he was not able to prevail with any of them by torments, at length condemned them all to be put to death. Some he caused to be beheaded, others to be crucified, others burnt, and some to be put out to sea in rotten vessels, which immediately foundered. When the venerable old man, Hippolytus, was in his turn brought to him loaded with chains, a crowd of young people cried out to the judge, that he was a chief among the Christians, and ought to be put to death by some new and remarkable kind of punishment. “What is his name?” said the prefect. They answered, “Hippolytus.” The prefect said, “Then let him be treated like Hippolytus, and dragged by wild horses.” By this sentence he alluded to Hippolytus, the son of Theseus, who, flying from the indignation of his father, met a monster, the sight of which affrighted his horses, so that he fell from his chariot, and, being entangled in the harness, was dragged along, and torn to pieces.1 No sooner was the order given but the people set themselves to work in assisting the executioners. Out of the country, where untamed horses were kept, they took a pair of the most furious and unruly they could meet with, and tied a long rope between them instead of a pole, to which they fastened the martyr’s feet. Then they provoked the horses to run away by loud cries, whipping and pricking them. The last words which the martyr was heard to say as they started, were, “Lord, they tear my body, receive thou my soul.” The horses dragged him away furiously into the woods, through brooks, and over ditches, briars, and rocks; they beat down the hedges, and broke through everything that came in their way. The ground, the thorns, trees, and stones, were sprinkled with his blood, which the faithful that followed him at a distance weeping, respectfully sucked up from every place with sponges, and they gathered together all the mangled parts of his flesh and limbs, which lay scattered all about. They brought these precious relics to Rome, and buried them in the subterraneous caverns called catacombs, which Prudentius* here describes at large. He says that the sacred remains of St. Hippolytus were deposited in this place near an altar, at which the faithful were fed with the heavenly banquet, and the divine sacraments, and obtained the speedy effect of their requests to God. He testifies, that as often as he had prayed there when he was at Rome, for the remedy of his infirmities, whether of body or mind, he had always found the desired relief; but professes that he was indebted to Christ for all favors received, because he gave to his martyr Hippolytus the power to obtain for him the divine succor. He adds, that the chapel which contained these sacred relics shone within with solid silver with which the walls were incrustated, and on the outside with the brightest marble like looking-glass, which covered the walls, the whole being ornamented with abundance of gold. He says, that from the rising to the setting of the sun, not only the inhabitants of Rome, but many from remote countries, resorted in great numbers to this holy place, to pay adoration to God; and that especially on the martyr’s festival, on the Ides or 13th of August, both senators and people came thither to implore the divine mercy, and kiss the shrine which contained the relics. He moreover describes a sumptuous great church which was built in honor of the martyr near his tomb, and which was thronged with multitudes of devout Christians. He mentions1 the effigies of the saint’s martyrdom skilfully drawn over his tomb.†

It is the reflection of St. Austin,2 that if, with the martyrs, we seriously considered the rewards that await us, we should account all trouble and pains in this life as nothing; and should be astonished that the divine bounty gives so great a salary for so little labor. To obtain eternal rest, should require, if it had been possible, eternal labor; to purchase a happiness without bounds, a man should be willing to suffer for a whole eternity. That indeed is impossible; but our trials might have been very long. What are a thousand years, or ten hundred thousand ages in comparison to eternity. There can be no proportion between what is finite, and that which is infinite. Yet God in his great mercy does not bid us suffer so long. He says, not a million, or a thousand years, or even five hundred; but only labor the few years that you live; and in these the dew of my consolations shall not be wanting; and I will recompense your patience for all with a glory that has no end. Though we were to be loaded with miseries, pain, and grief our whole life, the thoughts of heaven alone ought to make us bear its sharpest rials with cheerfulness and joy.

AUGUST 13 — ST. CASSIAN, M

He was a Christian schoolmaster, and taught children to read and write, at Imola,* a city twenty-seven miles from Ravenna in Italy. A violent persecution being raised against the Church, probably that of Decius or Valerian, or according to some, that of Julian, he was taken up, and interrogated by the governor of the province. As he constantly refused to sacrifice to the gods, the barbarous judge, having informed himself of what profession he was, commanded that his own scholars should stab him to death with their iron writing pencils, called styles; for at that time it was the custom for scholars to write upon wax laid on a board of boxen wood, in which they formed the letters with an iron style or pencil, sharp at one end, but blunt and smooth at the other, to erase what was to be effaced or corrected.† They also often wrote on boxen wood itself, as St. Ambrose mentions.1 The smaller the instruments were, and the weaker the executioners, the more lingering and cruel was this martyr’s death. He was exposed naked in the midst of two hundred boys; among whom some threw their tablets, pencils, and pen-knives at his face and head, and often broke them upon his body; others cut his flesh, or stabbed him with their pen-knives, and others pierced him with their pencils, sometimes only tearing the skin and flesh, and sometimes raking in his very bowels. Some made it their barbarous sport to cut part of their writing-task in his tender skin. Thus, covered with his own blood, and wounded in every part of his body, he cheerfully bade his little executioners not to be afraid; and to strike him with greater force; not meaning to encourage them in their sin, but to express the ardent desire he had to die for Christ. He was interred by the Christians at Imola, where afterward his relics were honored with a rich mausoleum. Prudentius tells us, that in his journey to Rome, he visited this holy martyr’s tomb, and prostrate before it implored the divine mercy for the pardon of his sins with many tears. He mentions a moving picture of this saint’s martyrdom hanging over the altar, representing his cruel death in the manner he has recorded it in verse. He exhorts all others with him to commend their petitions to this holy martyr’s patronage, who fails not to hear pious supplications.‡ See Prudent. de Cor. hym. 9, de S. Cassiano, p. 203. His sacred remains are venerated in a rich shrine at Imola in the cathedral. See Manzorius, J. U. D. et Canonicus Imolensis in Hist. Episcoporum Imolens. an. 1719, and Bosch the Bollandist. t. 3, Aug. p. 16.*

AUGUST 13 — SAINT RADEGUNDES, QUEEN OF FRANCE

She was daughter of Bertaire, a pagan king of part of Thuringia in Germany, who was assassinated by his brother Hermenfred. Theodoric, or Thierry, king of Austrasia, or Metz, and his brother Clotaire I., then king of Soissons, fell upon Hermenfred, vanquished him, and carried home a great booty. Among the prisoners, Radegundes, then about twelve years old, fell to the lot of king Clotaire, who gave her an education suitable to her birth, and caused her to be instructed in the Christian religion, and baptized. The great mysteries of our holy faith made such an impression on her tender soul, that, from the moment of her baptism, she gave herself to God with her whole heart, abridged her meals to feed the poor, whom she served with her own hands, and made prayer, humiliations, and austerities her whole delight. It was her earnest desire to serve God in the state of perpetual virginity; but was obliged at length to acquiesce in the king’s desire to marry her. Being by this exaltation become a great queen, she continued no less an enemy to sloth and vanity than she was before, and she divided her time chiefly between her oratory, the church, and the care of the poor. She also kept long fasts, and during Lent wore a hair-cloth under her rich garments. Clotaire was at first pleased with her devotions, and allowed her full liberty in them; but afterward, by ambition and other passions, his affections began to be alienated from her, and he used frequently to reproach her for her pious exercises, saying, he had married a nun rather than a queen, who converted his court into a monastery. His complaints were unjust; for she made it one of the first points of her devotion never to be wanting in any duty of her state, and to show the king all possible complaisance. She repaid injuries only with patience and greater courtesy and condescension, doing all the good in her power to those who were her declared enemies in prepossessing her husband against her. Clotaire at length caused her brother to be treacherously assassinated, that he might seize on his dominions in Thuringia. Radegundes, shocked at this base act of inhumanity, asked his leave to retire from court, which she easily obtained. Clotaire himself sent her to Noyon, that she might receive the religious veil from the hands of St. Medard. The holy prelate scrupled to do it for some time, because she was a married woman; but was at length prevailed upon to consecrate her a deaconess.†

Radegundes first withdrew to Sais, an estate which the king had given her in Poitou, living wholly on bread made of rye and barley, and on roots and pulse, and never drinking any wine; and her bed was a piece of sackcloth spread upon ashes. She employed almost her whole revenue in alms, and served the poor with her own hands. She wore next her skin a chain which had been given her by St. Junian, a holy priest in that country, whom she furnished with clothes worked with her own hands. St. Radegundes went some time after to Poitiers, and there, by the orders of king Clotaire, built a great monastery of nuns, in which she procured a holy virgin, named Agnes, to be made the first abbess, and paid to her an implicit obedience in all things, not reserving to herself the disposal of the least thing. Not long after, king Clotaire, repenting that he had consented to her taking the veil went as far as Tours with his son Sigebert, upon a religious pretence, but intending to proceed to Poitiers, and carry her again to court. She was alarmed at the news, and wrote to St. Germanus of Paris, desiring him to divert so great an evil. The bishop having received her letter, went to the king, and throwing himself at his feet before the tomb of St. Martin, conjured him, with tears, in the name of God, not to go to Poitiers. The king, at the same time, prostrated himself before St. Germanus, beseeching him that Radegundes would pray that God would pardon that wicked design, to which he said he had been prompted by evil advice. The same lively faith which made the saint pass with joy from the court to a cloister, and from the throne to a poor cell, filled her with alarms when she heard of her danger of being called again to a court. Her happiness seemed complete when she saw herself securely fixed in her solitude.

Being desirous to perpetuate the work of God, she wrote to a council of bishops that was assembled at Tours in 566, entreating them to confirm the foundation of her monastery, which they did under the most severe censures. She had already enriched the church she had built with the relics of a great number of saints; but was very desirous to procure a particle of the true cross of our Redeemer, and sent certain clerks to Constantinople, to the emperor Justin, for that purpose. The emperor readily sent her a piece of that sacred wood adorned with gold and precious stones; also a book of the four gospels beautified in the same manner, and the relics of several saints. They were carried into Poitiers, and deposited in the church of the monastery by the archbishop of Tours in the most solemn manner, with a great procession, wax tapers, incense, and singing of psalms. It was on that occasion that Venantius Fortunatus composed the hymn, Vexilla regius prodeunt.* St. Radegundes had invited him and several other holy and learned men to Poitiers; was herself a scholar, and read both the Latin and Greek fathers. She established in her monastery of the Holy Cross the rule of St. Cæsarius of Arles, a copy of which she procured from St. Cæsaria II. abbess of St. John’s at Arles. She probably took that name from St. Cæsaria, sister of St. Cæsarius, first abbess of that house, who died in 524. She was her worthy successor in all her great virtues, no less than in her dignity; and her admirable sanctity is much extolled by Fortunatus.1 She excelled particularly in holy prudence, which, as St. Ambrose remarks, must be, as it were, the salt to season all other virtues, which cannot be perfect or true without it. St. Cæsaria sent to St. Radegundes, together with the copy of this rule, an excellent letter of advice, most useful to all superiors and others, which has been lately published by Dom. Martenne.2 In it she says, that persons who desire sincerely to serve God, must apply themselves earnestly to holy prayer, begging continually of God that he be pleased to make known to them his holy will, and direct them to follow it in all things; that they must, in the next place, diligently hear, read, and meditate on the word of God, which is a doctrine infinitely more precious than that of men, and a mine which can never be exhausted; that they must never cease praising God, and giving him thanks for his mercies; that they must give alms to the utmost of their abilities, and must practise austerities according to the rules of obedience and discretion. She prescribes that every nun shall learn the psalter by heart, and be able to read; and she gives the strictest caution to be watchful against all particular fond friendships or familiarities in communities. St. Radegundes, not satisfied with these instructions, took with her Agnes, the abbess of her monastery, and made a journey to Arles, more perfectly to acquaint herself with the obligations of her rule. Being returned to Poitiers, she assisted Agnes in settling the discipline of her house.

In the year 560, Clotaire, who was the fourth son of Clovis the Great, became sole king of France, his three brothers and their sons being all dead. In the last year of his reign he went to the tomb of St. Martin at Tours, carrying with him very rich gifts. He there enumerated all the sins of his past life, and with deep groans, besought the holy confessor to implore God’s mercy in his behalf. He founded St. Medard’s abbey at Soissons, and gave great marks of a sincere repentance. Yet, during his last illness, he showed great alarm and disturbance of mind at the remembrance of the crimes he had committed, and said in his last moments: “How powerful is the heavenly king, by whose command the greatest monarchs of the earth resign their life!” He died in 561, having reigned fifty years. His four sons divided his kingdom; Charibert, who reigned at Paris, had the Isle of France, Anjou, Maine, Touraine, Poitou, Guienne, and Languedoc. Chilperic resided at Soissons, and enjoyed Picardy, Normandy, and all the Low Countries. Gontran was king of Orleans, and his dominions were extended to the source of the Loire, and comprised also Provence, Dauphiné, and Savoy. Austrasia fell to Sigebert, and comprehended Lorrain, Champagne, Auvergne, and some provinces in Germany. Charibert lived but a short time; and the civil wars between Sigebert, married to Brunehault, and Chilperic, whose concubine was the famous Fredegonda, distracted all France. Childebert, son of Sigebert and Brunchault, after the death of his father, and two uncles Chilperic and Gontran, became sovereign of Austrasia, Orleans, and Paris, and continued, as his father had always been, a great protector of St. Radegundes, and her monastery of the Holy Cross, in which she had assembled two hundred nuns, among whom were several daughters of senators, and some of royal blood. The holy foundress, amidst all the storms that disturbed the kingdom, enjoyed a perfect tranquillity in her secure harbor, and died in the year 587, the twelfth of king Childebert, on the 13th of August, on which day the Church honors her memory. St. Gregory, archbishop of Tours, went to Poitiers upon the news of her death, and, the bishop of Poitiers being absent, performed the funeral office at her interment.

The nun Baudonivia, who had received her education under St. Radegundes, and was present at her burial, relates that during it a blind man recovered his sight. Many other miracles were performed at the tomb of this saint. Her relies lay in the church of our Lady at Poitiers till they were dispersed by the Huguenots, together with those of Saint Hilary, in 1562. See her life written by Fortunatus of Poitiers, her chaplain; and a second book added to the same by the nun Baudonivia, her disciple. See also St. Gregory of Tours, Hist. Fr.1. 3, c. 4, 7, &c. and1. de Glor. Conf. c. 23. On her life compiled by Hildebert, bishop of Mans, afterward archbishop of Tours, who died in 1134, see Mabillon, Annal. t. 1, p. 298. Hildebert has borrowed every part of this history from Fortunatus and Baudonivia, but given a more elegant turn to the style. Obscure passages he has passed over.

AUGUST 13 — ST. WIGBERT, ABBOT, C

He was an Englishman of noble birth, who, despising the world in his youth, embraced a monastic state. St. Boniface invited him to join in the labors of the conversion of the Germans, and made him abbot of two monasteries which he built, that of Fritzlar, three miles from Cassel, and afterward also of Ortdorf in the same province of Hesse. When called out to hear any one’s confession he spoke to no one in his road, and made haste back to his monastery. Broken by sickness, he resigned the government of his monasteries to St. Boniface, the better to prepare himself for his last passage. No state of his last sickness could make him mitigate the severity of his monastic abstinence and fasts, though he condemned not such indulgence in others. He died about the year 747, before St. Boniface, and was famous for miracles. His body was soon after translated to the monastery of Herfeld, and his shrine there adorned by St. Lullus with gold and silver. He is named on the 13th of August in the Martyrology of Rabanus Maurus; in that of Usuard, and in the Roman. See his life written by Lupus, then a priest under Rabanus Maurus at Mentz, afterward abbot of Ferrieres, three leagues from Montargis in Gatinois in the diocess of Sens, published by Baluze, inter op. Servati Lupi Ferrar. p. 292. Mabillon, act. Ben. sæc. 3, p. 671, and Solier the Bollandist, ad 13 Aug., p. 132.

AUGUST 14 — ST. EUSEBIUS, PRIEST, M

From his genuine Acts, published by Dom. Martenne, Thesaur Anecdotarum, t. 3, p. 1649.

About the End of the Third Century

IN the reign of Dioclesian and Maximian, before they had published any new edicts against the Christians, Eusebius, a holy priest, a man eminently endowed with the spirit of prayer, and all apostolical virtues, suffered death for the faith, probably in Palestine. The emperor Maximian happening to be in that country, an information was lodged with Maxentius, president of the province, against Eusebius, that he distinguished himself by his zeal in invoking and preaching Christ, and the holy man was apprehended, and brought before him. Maxentius, whom the people stirred up by furious clamors against the servant of Christ, said to him, “Sacrifice to the gods freely, or you shall be made to do it against your will.” The martyr replied, “There is a greater law which says, Thou shalt adore the Lord thy God, and him alone shalt thou serve.” Maxentius urged, “Choose either to offer sacrifice, or to suffer the most rigorous torments.” Eusebius answered, “It is not consistent with reason for a person to adore stones, than which nothing is viler or more brittle.” MAXENTIUS, “These Christians are a hardened race of men, to whom it seems desirable rather to die than to live.’ EUSEBIUS, “It is impious to despise the light for the sake of darkness.” MAXENTIUS, “You grow more obstinate by lenity and entreaties. I there fore lay them aside, and frankly tell you, that, unless you sacrifice, you shall be burnt alive.” EUSEBIUS, “As to that, I am in no pain. The more severe or cruel the torments are, the greater will the crown be.” Upon this, Maxentius ordered that he should be stretched on the rack, and his sides rent with iron hooks. Eusebius repeated, whilst he was tormenting, “Lord Jesus preserve me. Whether we live or die, we are yours.” The president was amazed at his constancy and fortitude, and after some time, commanded that he should be taken off the rack. Then he said to him, “Do you know the decree of the senate, which commands all to sacrifice to the gods?” These words show that the saint was indicted upon former laws, and that this happened before the general edicts of Dioclesian. Eusebius answered, “The command of God is to take place before that of man.” The judge, flushed with rage, commanded that he should be led to the fire as if it were to be burnt alive.

Eusebius walked out with a constancy and joy painted in his countenance which struck the prefect and the bystanders with amazement, and the prefect called after him, “You run to an unnecessary death; your obstinacy astonishes me. Change your mind.” The martyr said, “If the emperor commands me to adore dumb metal in contempt of the true God, let me appear before him.” This he said because he was impeached upon old laws, the present emperor not having yet made any new ones against the Christians. Maxentius therefore said to his guards and keepers: “Let him be confined till to-morrow;” and forthwith going in to the prince, he said, “Great emperor, I have found a seditious man who is disobedient to the laws, and even denies to my face that the gods have any power, and refuses to sacrifice, or to adore your name.” The emperor answered, “Let him be brought before me.” A person present, who had seen him at the prefect’s tribunal, said, “If you see him you will be moved by his speech.” The emperor replied, “Is he such a man that he can even change me?” The prefect then spoke, “He will change not only you, but the minds of all the people. If you once behold his looks, you will feel yourself strangely moved to follow his inclinations.”* The emperor, however, ordered that he should be brought in. As he entered, every one was struck in beholding the dazzling brightness which appeared in his countenance, the joy and the affecting composure, sweetness, and undaunted courage which shone in his looks and eye, and the gracefulness of his air, and whole mien, which in his venerable old age seemed to breathe an air of virtue above what is human. The emperor fixed his eyes steadfastly upon him, as if he beheld in him something divine, and spoke thus, “Old man, why are you come before me? speak, and be not afraid.” Seeing him still silent, he said, “Speak freely; answer my questions. I desire that you be saved.” Eusebius answered, “If I hope to be saved by man, I can no longer expect salvation from God. If you excel in dignity and power, we are, nevertheless, all mortal alike. Neither will I be afraid to repeat before you what I have already declared. I am a Christian: nor can I adore wood and stones; but I most readily obey the true God whom I know, and whose goodness I have experienced.” The emperor said to the president, “What harm is it if this man adores the God of whom he speaks, as above all others?” Maxentius made answer, “Be not deceived, most invincible emperor; he does not call what you imagine God, but I know not what Jesus, whom our nation or ancestors never knew.’ The emperor said, “Go you forth, and judge him according to justice and the laws. I will not be judge in such an affair.”

This Maximian was by birth a barbarian, and one of the roughest, and most brutish and savage of all men. Yet the undaunted and modest virtue of this stranger, set off by a heavenly grace, struck him with awe. He desired to save the servant of Christ, but, like Pilate, would not give himsel any trouble, or hazard, incurring the displeasure of those whom on all other occasions he despised. So unaccountably cowardly are worldly and wicked men in the practice of virtue, who in vice are unbridled and daring. Maxentius going out ascended his tribunal, and sternly commanded Eusebius to sacrifice to the gods. He answered, “I will never sacrifice to those which can neither see nor hear.” Maxentius said, “Sacrifice, or torments and dames must be your portion. He whom you fear is not able to deliver you from them.” Eusebius replied, “Neither fire nor the sword will work any change in me. Tear this weak body to pieces, with the utmost cruelty; treat it in what manner you please. My soul, which is God’s, cannot be hurt by your torments. I persevere firm in the holy law to which I have adhered from my cradle.” The president, upon this, condemned him to be beheaded. Eusebius, hearing the sentence pronounced, said aloud, “I thank your goodness, and praise your power, O Lord Jesus Christ, that by calling me to the trial of my fidelity, you have treated me as one of yours.” He, at that instant, heard a voice from heaven, saying to him, “If you had not been found worthy to suffer, you could not be admitted into the court of Christ, or to the seats of the just.” Being come to the place of execution, he knelt down, and his head was struck off. His soul flew to Christ; but Maxentius, afflicted with numberless pains, would not please Christ, and never was able to please the world, which he so much dreaded and courted. This is the martyr Eusebius, who is mentioned on this day in some ancient Martyrologies which bear the name of St. Jerom, and others, which place his death in Palestine.

The martyrs, by their meek constancy, vanquished the fiercest tyrants, and haughty lords of the world; they struck with a secret awe those who tormented them, whose obstinacy, malice, and love of the world, still shut their hearts to the truth.

AUGUST 14 — ST. EUSEBIUS, PRIEST AND CONFESSOR AT ROME

Is named with distinction in the Latin Martyrologies on this day. The ancient genuine Martyrology of Usuard only styles him confessor under the Arian emperor Constantius, and adds, that he was buried in the cemetery of Calixtus. His acts seem of no authority. They are published by Mombritius, and more correctly by Baluze, t. 3, Miscel., p. 141. These relate that, for opposing pope Liberius for signing the confession of Sirmich, he was persecuted by the emperor, and imprisoned some months in his room, under which confinement he sanctified himself by continual prayer, and happily died. He is called a martyr in several modern Martyrologies.

AUGUST 15 — THE ASSUMPTION OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY

On this festival the Church commemorates the happy departure of the Virgin Mary, and her translation into the kingdom of her Son, in which she received from him a crown of immortal glory, and a throne above all the other saints and heavenly spirits. After Christ, as the triumphant conqueror of death and hell, ascended into heaven, his blessed mother remained at Jerusalem, persevering in prayer with the disciples, till, with them, she had received the Holy Ghost. St. John the Evangelist, to whom Christ recommended her on his cross, took her under his protection. The prelates assembled in the general council which was held at Ephesus in 431, mention as the highest prerogative of that city, that it had received a great lustre from St. John the Evangelist and the Mother of God, saying, In which John the Theologian, and the Virgin Mother of God the holy Mary conversed, or rather, are honored with churches held in special veneration.1 Tillemont and some others conjecture from this passage that she died at Ephesus; but others think rather at Jerusalem, where, in later ages, mention is made of her sepulchre cut in a rock at Gethsemani.* All agree that she lived to a very advanced age,2 improving daily in perfect charity, and in the most heroic exercise of all other virtues. She paid the common debt of nature, none among the children of Adam being exempt from that rigorous law. But the death of the saints is rather to be called a sweet sleep than death; much more that of the queen of saints, who had been exempt from all sin.

It is a traditionary pious belief, that the body of the blessed Virgin was raised by God soon after her death, and assumed to glory, by a singular privilege, before the general resurrection of the dead. This is mentioned by the learned Andrew of Crete,3 in the East in the seventh, and by St. Gregory of Tours,4 in the West in the sixth century. It is an opinion perfectly conformable to the sentiments of piety and respect which we owe to the glorious Mother of God. This preservation from corruption, and speedy assumption to glory, was a privilege which seems justly due to that sacred body which was never defiled by any sin, which was ever the most holy and pure temple of God, preserved from all contagion of Adam, and the common curse of mankind: to that body from which the eternal Word received his own adorable flesh, by whose hands he was pleased to be nourished and clothed on earth, and whom he vouchsafed to obey and honor as his mother. So great was the respect and veneration of the fathers towards this most holy and most exalted of all pure creatures, that St. Epiphanius durst not affirm that she ever died, because he had never found any mention of her death, and be cause she might have been preserved immortal, and translated to glory without dying.5 Much more ought piety to incline us to receive with deference a tradition so ancient and so well recommended to us as is this of the corporal assumption of the Virgin Mary; an opinion which the Church so far favors as to read, from the works of St. John Damascen and St. Bernard, an account of it in the breviary as proper to edify, and excite the devotion of her children.* But then, that our piety may be discreet, we must imitate the moderation and cautious reserve of our holy Mother the Church, and not put mere opinions any way upon a level with articles of faith, or matters of divine revelation.

This solemnity, in ancient Martyrologies, is promiscuously called the assumption, passage, or repose of the Virgin Mary. Whether this assumption was of her soul only, or of both soul and body, is no part of faith. The latter is the truth, but were it not so, the object of the present festival is still the same. For, as we honor the departure of other saints out of this world, so we have great reason to rejoice and praise God on this day, when the mother of Christ entered into the possession of those joys which he had prepared for her. We ought certainly to employ this festival in pouring forth our souls before God, in most holy transports of thanksgiving for the high degree of grace and glory to which, in his infinite mercy, he has exalted her; secondly, in imitating her virtues; thirdly, in imploring his clemency and bounty through her patronage and intercession. We shall excite ourselves to these duties by considering on one side to how great a crown she is raised, and by what means she attained to it, and on the other, how powerful an advocate God hath given us in her.

The assumption of the Virgin Mary is the greatest of all the festivals which he Church celebrates in her honor. It is the consummation of all the other great mysteries, by which her life was rendered most wonderful; it is the birth-day of her true greatness and glory, and the crowning of all the virtues of her whole life, which we admire single in her other festivals. It is for all these gifts conferred on her that we are on this day to praise and thank him who is the author of them; but especially for that glory with which he hath crowned her. In this we must join our homages and joy with all the blessed spirits in heaven. What must have been their exultation and triumph on this occasion! With what honor do we think God himself received his mother into his kingdom! What glory did he bestow on her whom he exalted above the highest cherubims, and placed on a throne raised above all the choirs of his blessed spirits! The seraphims, angels, and all the other glorious inhabitants of his kingdom, seeing the graces with which she was adorned, and the dazzling beauty and lustre with which she shone forth as she mounted on high from the earth, cried out in amaze,—Who is she that cometh up from the desert flowing with charms and delights leaning upon her beloved?6 Accustomed as they were to the wonders of heaven, in which God displayeth the magnificence of his power and greatness, they are nevertheless astonished to behold the glory of Mary; and much more so, to see the earth which had been loaded with maledictions, and covered with monsters of abomination and horror, now produce so great a treasure, and send to them so rich a present. They pronounce it blessed for having given her birth; but their heaven much more so in now receiving her for eternity.

But ought we not rather to stop our inquiries in silent raptures of admiration and praise, than presume to pursue them in an object which is the astonishment of the highest angels? This made St. Bernard say on this subject,7—“Nothing more delights me, yet nothing terrifies me more than to discourse of the glory of the Virgin Mary.” It is presumption to offer to dive into God’s secret mysteries, by pretending to fathom or measure the degree of bliss to which she is raised. Let it then suffice that we know her honor now is proportioned to the incomprehensible dignity of Mother of God which she bears, and to the transcendent degree of grace and merits which she possessed on earth, and which she had never ceased to increase ever moment of her life. We extol her incomparable dignity in being the mother of her Creator; a dignity which no mortal tongue can express; but we may confidently say that the glory with which Christ received her in heaven is no less above the reach of our understanding. Martha was highly favored when she had the honor to harbor Jesus under her roof; the history of which is read in the gospel of this festival. But that was only an emblem or shadow of the happiness of the Virgin Mary, who not only received her Creator into her house, but conceived and bore him in her womb. Yet this so high a dignity only met with its recompense is the happiness to which she was admitted on this day, on which she was received by him in his glory, as she had harbored him on earth in her womb, and under her roof. He who rewards so richly those who for his sake serve or relieve the least of his members on earth, though they should only give them a cup of cold water, displays his liberality with the utmost profusion of great gifts in favor of a mother the most faithful to his graces, the most fervent in his love, and the most constant in his service. He remembers the affection, piety, and fervor with which she sanctified herself before she conceived him, and during the remainder of her life; with which she bore him in her womb, cherished and served him in his mortal body upon earth, and suffered with him, by compassion, on Mount Calvary; and now he repays her by the honor with which he receives and crowns her. This he does in a manner so much the more wonderful as he is infinite in power, love, and goodness, and as his ways are infinitely exalted above those of creatures. Moreover, his own honor is here interested that he should glorify one that stands in so near a relation to himself, and that he should exalt his mother by the gifts of his glory as he enriched her with his most extraordinary graces when he first chose her to that dignity.

She is said to be clothed with the sun, that is, with a glory transcending that of the other blessed, as the brightness of the sun surpasseth the stars; it is added, that the moon is placed under her feet. “Of this heavenly queen,” says St. Francis, of Sales,8 “from my heart I proclaim this loving and true thought. The angels and saints are only compared to stars, and the first of those to the fairest of these. But she is fair as the moon, as easily to be discerned from the other saints as the sun is from the stars.” She receives a crown not like those of other saints, but of twelve stars.9 If she rejoices exceedingly in her own bliss, much more will she overflow with joy in the glory of her divine Son. What a singular pleasure must she feel to behold him whom she had with so much solicitude ministered to, so affectionately attended, and so grievously mourned for, now placed on the throne of his majesty, resplendent with the glory of the divinity, and proclaimed everywhere the Lord of all things! What raptures of love and joy must transport her soul at this sight! And with what tenderness does he address, and say to her, “You ministered to me far above all others in my state of humiliation; and I will minister to you more abundantly than to any other in my glory. I received from you my humanity, and I will bestow on you the riches of my immortality.” The devil, beholding her exaltation, swells with rage to see his seduction of the first Eve become an occasion of so great a dignity and glory to Mary. All the holy choirs of heaven contemplating her exaltation, praise the mercies and gifts of God in her. We on earth are bound, on many accounts, to join them in the duty of thanksgiving and joy.

Whilst we contemplate the glory to which Mary is raised by her triumph on this day, in profound sentiments of veneration, astonishment, and praise, we ought, for our own advantage, to consider by what means she arrived at this sublime degree of honor and happiness, that we may walk in her steps. That she should be the mother of her Creator was the most wonderful miracle, and the highest dignity; yet it was not properly this that God crowned in her, as Christ himself assures us.10 So near a relation to God was to be adorned with the greatest graces; and Mary’s fidelity to them was the measure of her glory. It was her virtue that God considered in the recompense he bestowed upon her; herein he regarded her charity, her profound humility, her purity, her patience, her meekness, holy zeal, and ardor in paying to God the most perfect homage of adoration, love, praise, and thanksgiving. Charity, or the love of God, is the queen and the most excellent of all virtues; it is also their form or soul; because no other virtue can be meritorious of eternal life, unless it be animated, and proceed from the motive of holy charity. In this consists the perfection of all true sanctity. Mary surpassed all others in sanctity in proportion as she excelled them in the most pure, most ardent, and most perfect charity. This virtue she exercised and improved continually in her soul, by the ardor with which she served Christ both in person and in his members, the poor; by the most constant and perfect obedience to the divine law in all things; by the most entire resignation and sacrifice of herself to God’s will; the most invincible patience and meekness, and by all other virtues; especially assiduous acts of adoration, hope, praise, thanksgiving, supplication, and the like parts of prayer, in which she employed her holy soul with all her affections. But if charity was the perfection of her eminent sanctity, its groundwork was her sincere and most profound humility. This was the source of her transcendent charity, and of all her other virtues, by drawing from heaven those graces into her soul. This chiefly attracted God from the seat of his glory into her chaste womb; the same raised her to the highest throne among the blessed. Yes; the assumption of Mary in glory was only the triumph of her humility. Hereof we have the most authentic assurance.11 She was exalted in virtue, dignity, and glory, above all other pure or mere creatures, because she was of all others the most humble. Therefore did charity and every other virtue shoot so deep roots in her heart, and raise their head like a palm-tree in Cades, and be like a cedar on Libanus; spreading their shade like a cypress-tree on mount Sion, and diffusing their sweet odor as a rose plant in Jericho, like cinnamon and aromatic balm, and like the best myrrh.12 Therefore she ascends so high because in her own sentiments of herself she was so lowly.

Meekness and patience are the sister-virtues and inseparable companions of humility. By these was Mary to purchase her great crown; and to furnish her with occasions for the most perfect exercise of these and all other virtues in the most heroic degree, God was pleased to visit her with the sharpest trials. Though she was the mother of God, never defiled with the least stain of sin, and by a singular privilege of grace free from concupiscence, yet she was not exempted from the cross of her Son. Nay, how much nearer a relation she bore to him, and how much dearer and more precious she was in his sight, so much a larger portion of his cup did he present to her above his other saints. Though she had no sins to satisfy for, yet her virtue was to be exercised and improved by trials, and the higher degree of glory was prepared for her, by so much the more severe crosses was it to be earned. Besides these reasons for suffering, we who are criminal sinners, have immense debts to cancel, an unruly concupiscence to keep under, and a fund of inordinate self-love to fight against and subdue. Yet we would live without mortification and suffering, and are inclined to murmur at what ought to be the subject of our joy and ambition. God was pleased to conduct his mother through hard and rigorous ways in virtue, that her example might be a model and consolation to us under interior trials. They are painful to nature, but the ordinary exercise of heroic souls in pure and perfect love. Consolations, even those that are spiritual, are rather supports of our weakness than the test and school of solid virtue; the character of which is to suffer with patience and constancy. The path of prosperity, if uninterrupted, exposes souls to much illusion; in it many are filled only with self-love whilst they flatter themselves they are walking with God, and reaping the fruits of virtue. The road of privations is the most secure as well as most fruitful in heroic virtues. Certainly nothing can be more sublime, or better for us, seeing God had nothing greater for his mother. This consideration suffices alone to fill us with comfort and joy under all afflictions, that in them we are in good company, even with Christ himself, with his blessed mother, and his saints, who have all walked in this path before us, carrying their heavy crosses, which were the sources of their greatest blessings.

Let us consider a little the life of Mary. What must she have suffered from the hardships of poverty, the alarming persecution of Herod, the banishment into Egypt, living after her return in a kind of exile for fear of Archelaus! Under these, and many like circumstances, we may easily imagine what continual crosses she had to bear together with her divine infant What must she feel to see him in want, suffering cold and all other inconveniences! What, when she lost him in the temple, and saw him exposed to hardships and ill-treatment on other occasions! He was persecuted and reviled by the Pharisees and others, his meekness despised, and his most holy doctrine contradicted. It was also a continual affliction to her tender heart, always full of zeal for the honor of God, and of charity for men, to see the whole world filled with sins, blasphemies against so good a God, scandals, abuses, and wrecks of souls. But what was her grief to see her most amiable and divine Son in his sacred passion, covered with ignominies, overwhelmed with the blackest calumnies, bound, scourged, crowned with thorns, and dying on a cross! How sharp a sword of most bitter grief must have then pierced the soul of this mother of sorrows! After her divine Son had left the earth, how earnest were her sighs to be united to him in glory! How bitter must the prolongation of her banishment amidst the sins of the world have been to her, whose burning charity surpassed that of all other saints! Only patience, meekness, submission to the will of God, entire confidence in him, and the assiduous exercise of prayer and divine love were her support, her comfort, and the rich harvest which she reaped from her sufferings. The weight and duration of these crosses, and the great virtues which she practised under them, are the measure of that height of glory to which she is exalted. We see the means by which Mary mounted to the happiness, which she now enjoys. No other way is open to us. The same path which conducted her to glory, will also lead us thither; we shall be partners in her reward, if we copy her virtues. Her example is both our model and our encouragement. From her assumption we derive another great advantage, that of her patronage. Mary crowned in heaven is an advocate with her Son in favor of us sinners.

The prayers of the holy Virgin Mary, whilst she lived on earth, were certainly of great efficacy; much more than those of Abraham, Job, or Elias. Now raised to a state of bliss she cannot have lost the power to intercede with God for us; this on the contrary must be much greater, as she is now seated near the throne of mercy. If the angels who are before the throne of God, offer our prayers to him, and pray themselves for us; if the saints in glory employ their mediation in our favor, shall not the most holy Mother of God be able to do the same office for us? Can any be so bold as to pretend, either that she is not willing, or that she cannot exert her charity in our behalf? That she is most ready and desirous, no one can doubt, seeing that, among all pure creatures, there never was any zeal or charity equal to hers who bore charity itself in her womb. She received from him that zeal for the glory of God, and those bowels of tenderness and compassion for the souls of poor sinners, which surpassed those of all angels and men. Now she beholds the divine essence, and is made all love by being transformed in glory, and united to him who is love itself; now she sees all that can inflame her charity both in our miseries, in God’s goodness, and in the glory which will redound to him from our salvation, can she forget us? No certainly. With her zeal for the divine honor, and her charity for poor sinners, her compassion for us must be much increased. Nor can she have less power and credit with her Son; but the more she is honored by him, the more prevalent must her intercession be. If Esther could prevail with Assuerus in favor of her nation; if the Thecuit could move David to show mercy to Absalom; if Judith could save her people by her prayers; if the saints both on earth and reigning with Christ in heaven could often avert the divine vengeance, and work wonders, what shall we not be able to obtain through the mediation of Mary! As St. Bonaventure13 repeats from St. Bernard: “You have secure access to God where you have the Mother addressing the Son, and the Son before the Father in you. behalf. She shows to her Son in your favor the breasts which gave him suck, and the Son presents to the Father his wounds and open side.”

The constant doctrine and tradition of the Church, through all ages, renders us secure in the practice of invoking this holy Virgin.* The Protestant century-writers of Magdeburg trace it for us as high as the second century, and charge Saint Irenæus with teaching it in the same manner that the Catholic Church does at this day. This is their remark upon those words of that great and primitive doctor: “The Virgin Mary is made the advocate of Eve,” that is, for men upon whom their first mother entailed a curse.14 St. Irenæus is one of the first in the list of the fathers; and this holy and wholesome devotion he learned from his masters, St. Polycarp and other immediate disciples of the apostles; and the same has been delivered down by the pastors of the Church with the whole sacred deposit of our faith, without changing one iota; for its faith is always the same and unalterable. This is easy to prove with regard to the present point from the clear testimonies of ancient venerable fathers. But it would be superfluous and tedious to load a discourse with the quotations of all those writers who are, in every age, vouchers of this article of the Catholic faith, and witnesses of the homages which the Church, instructed by the Holy Ghost, has never failed to pay to the glorious Mother of God. It is confirmed from the watchful attention with which the Church has condemned all errors that have been broached contrary to it.

St. Epiphanius informs us,15 that in the fourth age, among the Apollinarists sprang up in Arabia the heretics called Antidicomarianitœ or adversaries of Mary, who affirmed that she had not remained a virgin, and that after the birth of Christ she had children by St. Joseph. He tells us,16 that there arose at the same time, and in the same country, another heresy quite contrary to the former, the professors of which were called Collyridians, from certain cakes, called in Greek Collyrides, which they offered to the Virgin Mary, honoring her with sacrifices as a kind of divinity, and thus changing piety and devotion into superstition and idolatry. St. Epiphanius discoursing against this heresy, concludes that Mary ought to be honored, but God alone adored. This error was immediately crushed by the authority of the Church; but it shows that the faithful then paid solemn devotion to this queen of heaven, which some ignorant people took occasion impiously to pervert. Likewise when Nestorius blasphemously denied to the Virgin Mary the title and dignity of Mother of God, this heresy did but awake the piety of the faithful, and the error, as it always happens, served to establish the truth with greater lustre by the decisions of councils, and the most authentic public monuments and writings of the fathers, full of devotion and the strongest addresses to this glorious advocate of sinners, as may be seen in several works of St. Cyril of Alexandria against Nestorius, in the discourses of St. Proclus on the Virgin Mary against the same heresiarch, and others.

The fathers, moreover, encourage us to place a confidence in her holy patronage, by frequent miraculous instances which they have recorded. St. Gregory of Nyssa tells us,17 that the blessed Virgin and St. John Evangelist, in a vision, delivered to St. Gregory Thaumaturgus, in the year 244. a creed which afterward preserved the Church of Neocæsarea from the Arian heresy. St. Gregory Nazianzen relates,18 that the holy virgin and martyr Justina, in the reign of Dioclesian, besought the Virgin Mary to assist her against infamous tempters, and the magical charms of Cyprian, and was wonderfully succored, Cyprian himself being converted, and becoming a glorious martyr. St. Sophronius and John Mosehus in the Spiritual Meadow,19 mention a certain merchant of Alexandria, who, on setting out on a voyage to Constantinople, recommended his wife and little daughter to “our Lady the holy Mother of God;” and by her patronage they were both miraculously preserved, during his absence, from being robbed and murdered. Many other such instances might be gathered from the writings of the most holy and illustrious fathers of the Church, than which nothing can more clearly prove what were their sentiments and practice, and those of the whole Church from the earliest times with regard to this devotion to the Mother of God. We are encouraged to be fervent in this great means of mercy by the experience of her powerful intercession, confirmed by illustrious examples. “Let him cease to extol thy clemency, O holy Virgin,” cries out her devout client St. Bernard,20 “whoever invoked thy aid in his necessities, and found it to fail him.” Hence not only the Cistercian, but many other religious Orders, and numberless pious confraternities have solemnly put themselves under the special patronage of the Mother of God; and many kingdoms have done the same, as Hungary by the devotion of St. Stephen, and France by the vow of Lewis XIII. in 1638, in memory of which an annual most solemn procession is performed in all parts of that kingdom on this festival of the assumption. The Church strongly recommends to us this wholesome devotion by establishing so many feasts in honor of this holy virgin. This of her assumption was celebrated with the utmost solemnity at Jerusalem in the fifth and sixth ages, as appears from the life of St. Theodosius.21 St. Proclus, on this day of her festival in 428, delivered his famous sermon against Nestorius, in his presence, proving the Virgin Mary to be the Mother of God. We find churches dedicated to God in her honor in all parts of the Christian world, as soon as that liberty was allowed under the first Christian emperors. The great Church of Ephesus bore her name when the general council was assembled in it against Nestorius in 431. Saint Mary Major was built in Rome in the time of pope Liberius, and consecrated by Sixtus III. about the year 433, as is proved by the Bollandists.22 Theodorus Lector23 mentions that the empress Pulcheria built two churches in her honor at Constantinople. About the same time one was built at Jerusalem by St. Sabas, &c.

The voice of the Church, the example of so many eminent saints, and the most powerful motives of religion, recommend to us a singular devotion to the glorious Mother of God. St. Teresa, in her childhood, grieving for the loss of her mother, east herself on her knees before the picture of the Blessed Virgin, beseeching her with many tears to take her under her special patronage, and to be to her a tender mother and tutoress.24 In like manner, we may, by a solemn dedication of ourselves to God under the patronage of the Virgin Mary, choose her for our principal advocate with him, and commend ourselves most earnestly to her mediation. This recommendation of ourselves to her we may renew in our morning and night devotions, and in a more solemn manner on all her festivals; imploring, moreover, her intercession in all temptations and necessities, spiritual or corporal. Base and unworthy sinners as we are, can we do better than strengthen our prayers by the joint intercession of such an advocate, and by invoking her as our secure refuge? Saint Bernard25 puts into our mouths the following address to her: “O blessed finder of grace, mother of life, mother of salvation, may we through you have access to your Son, and that he who was given us through you may receive us through you. May your integrity and innocence excuse before him the stain of our corruption; may your humility, so agreeable to God, obtain the pardon of our vanity; may your abundant charity cover the multitude of our sins, and your glorious fruitfulness supply our indigence of merits. Our lady, our mediatrix, our advocate, reconcile us to your Son, commend us to your Son, present us to your Son. By the grace with which you are honored, by the mercy which you have brought forth, obtain that he who through you put on our weakness, may through you make us partakers of his bliss and glory.” But to obtain the protection of the Mother of God, we must not content ourselves to implore it barely in words, but must do this also with our hearts, and with a sincere desire of serving God with fervor. To be devout to the Mother we must copy her virtues, and live faithful to the holy law of her Son. She is the refuge of sinners; but of such as sue for pardon with sincere repentance; not of those who wilfully continue to crucify her Son. She detests the false confidence of such, and can never countenance their presumption and impiety. An imitation of her virtues and spirit is the most solid proof of a true devotion to her, and the means to honor her, and to recommend our petitions through her to her divine Son.

AUGUST 15 — ST. ALIPIUS, BISHOP, C

He was of a good family, and born at Tagaste in Africa, of which town the great St. Austin was also a native. He studied grammar at Tagaste, and rhetoric at Carthage, both under St. Austin, till a disagreement happened between St. Austin and his father. Alipius still retained an extraordinary affection and respect for him, and was reciprocally much beloved by him on account of his great inclination to virtue. At Carthage Alipius was unhappily bewitched with the vain shows of the circus, to which the inhabitants of that great city were extravagantly addicted. St. Austin was much afflicted that so hopeful a young gentleman would be, or rather was already, lost in that dangerous school of the passions; but he had no opportunity of admonishing him of that evil custom; Alipius at that time not being suffered by his father to be any longer one of his scholars. He happened however one day to step into his school, and hear some part of his lecture, and then depart, as he did sometimes by stealth. Austin, in expounding the subject which he had in hand, borrowed a similitude from the shows of the circus, with a smart derision of those who were captivated with that folly. This he did without any thought of Alipius. But Alipius, imagining it had been spoken purely for him, and being a well disposed youth, was angry with himself for this weak passion, not with Austin, whom he loved the more for this undersigned rebuke. Condemning himself, he rose out of the pit into which he was sunk, and went no more to the circus. Thus God, who sitteth at the helm and steereth the course of all things which he hath created, rescued from this danger one whom he had decreed to adopt one day among his children, and raise to the dignity of a bishop, and a dispenser of his sacraments. After this, Alipius prevailed with his father that he might be again Austin’s scholar. He was afterward involved with his mother in the superstition of the Manichees, being much taken with their boasted continency, which he supposed to be true and sincere, whereas, says St. Austin, it was only counterfeit to inveigle souls; for such are the charms, and such the dignity of virtue, that they who know not how to reach the height of that which is true, are easily deceived by superficial appearance, and what has only the shadow of it.

Alipius, whilst he was a student at Carthage, found a hatchet in the street, which a thief, who had attempted to cut off and steal some lead from certain rails in the city, had dropped to save himself, being closely pursued. Alipius innocently took up the hatchet, and, being found with it, was carried before the judge, where he was treated as the true thief. As the officers were leading him to prison or to punishment, he was met by an architect who had care of the public buildings, and knew Alipius, whom he had often seen at the house of a certain senator. This man, surprised to see him in such hands, inquired of him how so great a misfortune had befallen him; and having heard his case, he desired the people, who were in a great tumult and rage, to go along with him; for he would prove to them the innocence of their prisoner. He went to the house of a young man who was guilty of the fact, and met at the door an infant who innocently told the whole matter without suspecting any harm to his master. For being shown the hatchet, and asked whose it was, the child presently answered, it is ours; and being further examined, discovered the theft. Whereupon the mob was confounded, and Alipius discharged. This accident, according to the remark of St. Austin, was an effect of divine providence, that he might learn from it to be tender of the reputation of others, and to guard against rash judgment; for, generally, common fame is no grounds for condemning a man.

Alipius pursuing his views in the world, according to the inclinations of his parents, went to Rome to study the law. In that city he was drawn into an incredible passion for the barbarous shows of the amphitheatre, or fights of gladiators. For he being at first very averse from such diversions, some of his friends and school-fellows meeting him one day after dinner, with a familiar violence, led him, much against his will, to those tragical sports which were then exhibiting. He resisted them all the way, and said to them, “If you haul my body thither, can you force me to turn my mind or my eyes upon those shows? I shall be absent therefore, though present in body.” Yet they did not desist, but carried him with them. When they had taken their seats, and the cruel sports began, Alipius shut his eyes, that his soul might not take any delight in such wicked objects; and would to God, says St. Austin, ho had shut his ears too. For hearing a great shout of the people, he was overcome by curiosity and opened his eyes, designing only to sec what the matter was, and to despise it; and then shut them again. But to show us how much our safety depends upon our shunning the occasions of evil, and shutting out all dangerous objects from our soul, he fell by this curiosity. One of the combatants was wounded; and Alipius by the sight received a more grievous wound in his soul, whilst he was more bold than strong; though indeed he was so much the weaker, inasmuch as he presumed of himself, instead of confiding only in God. He no sooner beheld the blood of the wounded gladiator, but instead of turning away his eyes, he fixed them on the savage spectacle, sucked in all the fury, and was made drunk with the cruel pleasure of those criminal and barbarous combats. He was not now the man he came, but one of the multitude with which he mingled. He looked on, he shouted, he took fire, he carried away with him a madness by which he was incited to return again, even among the foremost of his companions, and to draw others with him. He also again relapsed into his former passion for the diversions of the circus, which consisted chiefly in various kinds of races; more innocent indeed than the barbarous fights of gladiators, but vain, and often incentives of various passions. From these misfortunes he learned to fear his own weakness, and trust in God alone, after he had by the most strong and merciful hand of his Creator, been raised from the pit. But this was long afterward.

In the meantime Alipius followed his studies, lived chaste, behaved with great integrity and honor, and was made assessor of justice in the court of the treasurer of Italy. In this charge he gave memorable proofs of justice and disinterestedness, and opposed an unjust usurpation of a powerful senator whose favor was courted by many, and whose displeasure was dreaded by all. When a reward was promised Alipius scorned it; and when he was assaulted with threats, he despised them. The judge himself, whose assessor he was, was restrained by his integrity; for, if he had passed an unjust decree, Alipius would have gone off the bench. When St. Austin came to Rome he stuck close to him, went with him to Milan, and was converted and baptized with him by St. Ambrose on Easter-Eve in 387. Some time after they returned to Rome, and having spent there a year in retirement, went back to Africa. They lived together at Tagaste, in a small community of devout persons, in the fervent practice of penance, fasting, and prayer, laboring perfectly to put off the old man with his works. Worldly habits just healed stood in need of such a retreat, nor was the penitent to be exposed again to danger. Habits of all virtues were to be formed and strengthened. Such a solitude was also a necessary preparation for the apostolic life, which these holy men afterward embraced. They lived thus three years at Tagaste, when, St. Austin being made priest of Hippo, they all removed thither, and continued the same manner of life in a monastery which St. Austin built there. Alipius performed a journey of devotion to Palestine, where he saw, and contracted a friendship with St. Jerom. Upon his return into Africa he was consecrated bishop of Tagaste about the year 393. He was St. Austin’s chief assistant in all he did, and wrote against the Donatists and Pelagians. He assisted at many councils, undertook several journeys, and preached and labored with indefatigable zeal in the cause of God and his Church. St. Austin, in a letter which he wrote to him in 429, calls him old. He seems not to have long survived that year. His name occurs on this day in the Roman Martyrology. See St. Augustine Confess.1. 6, c. 7, 8, 9, 10, 12;1. 9, c. 6, and ep. 22, 28, 188, 201, ed. Ben. Tillem. t. 12.

AUGUST 15 — ST. ARNOUL OR ARNULPHUS, C. BISHOP OF SOISSONS

He was a French nobleman, and had distinguished himself in the armies of Robert and Henry I. kings of France. He was called to a more noble warfare, resolving to employ for God the labor which, till then, he had rather consecrated to the service of the world. He became a monk in the great monastery of St. Medard at Soissons; and his example was followed by many other persons of distinction. After he had for some time made trial of his strength in the exercises of a cenobitic life, he formed to himself a new plan more suitable to his fervor. With his abbot’s leave he shut himself up in a narrow cell, and in the closest solitude, almost without any commerce with men, devoted himself to assiduous prayer, and the exercises of the most austere penance. He had led this manner of life three years and a half, when a council held at Meaux by a legate of pope Gregory VII. at the request of the clergy and people of Soissons, resolved to place him in that episcopal see. To the deputies of the council who came on that errand, Arnoul returned this answer. “Leave a sinner to of her to God some fruits of penance; and compel not a madman to take upon him a charge which requires so much wisdom.” He was, however, obliged to put his shoulders under the burden. He set himself with incredible zeal to fulfil every branch of his ministry; but finding himself not able to correct certain grievous abuses among the people, and fearing the account he should have to give for others no less than for himself, he procured leave to resign his dignity. He afterward founded a great monastery at Aldenburg, then a considerable city, in the diocess of Bruges, towards Ostend, where he happily died on sackcloth and ashes in 1087. Many miracles wrought at his tomb were approved in a council held at Beauvais in 1121. His relics were enshrined in 1131, and are still preserved in the church of St. Peter at Aldenburg or Oudenburg. His name is very famous over all the Low Countries and in France. See his life written by Lizard bishop of Soissons in the same century, and by Hariulph abbot of Aldenburg. See also Sanderus, Flandria Illustrata, augmented by the canon Foppens. Gall. Chr. Nova, t. 9, p. 350.

AUGUST 15 — ST. MAC-CARTIN, C. OTHERWISE CALLED AID OR AED, BISHOP OF CLOGHER IN IRELAND

Is titular saint of that diocess. He is said to have been descended from the noble family of the Arads,* but was more ennobled by his great virtues. He was one of St. Patrick’s earliest disciples, and placed by him in the see of Clogher. He died in the year 506, on the 24th of March, and is honored on that day, and on the 15th of August. His acts in Colgan are of little authority. See Ware by Harr. t. 1, p. 176. Colgan ad 24 Mart. Usher Antiq. Brit.

AUGUST 16 — ST. HYACINTH. CONFESSOR

From the bull of his canonization by Clement VIII. published by Fontanini, in 1729, In Codice Canonization, his life by Alberti, and the Polish historians. See Touron, de Vie S. Domin.1. 6, et Cuper the Bollandist, t. 3, Aug. p. 309.

A. D. 1257.

ST. HYACINTH, whom the Church historians call the apostle of the North, and the Thaumaturgus of his age, was of the ancient house of the counts of Oldrovans, one of the most illustrious of Silesia, a province at that time united to Poland, now to Bohemia, or Germany. His grandfather, the great general against the Tartars, left two sons. Yvo, the younger, was chancellor of Poland and bishop of Cracow. Eustachias, the elder, was count of Konski, the first fruit of whose marriage was St. Hyacinth, born in 1185, in the castle of Saxony, in the diocess of Breslaw in Silesia. His parents diligently cultivated his happy natural disposition for virtue, and he preserved an unspotted innocence of manners through the slippery paths of youth during his studies at Cracow, Prague, and Bologna; in which last university he took the degree of doctor of the laws and divinity. Returning to the bishop of Cracow, predecessor to Yvo of Konski, that pious prelate gave him a prebend in his cathedral, and employed him as his assistant and counsellor in the administration of his diocess. Hyacinth showed great prudence, capacity, and zeal in the multiplicity of his exterior occupations; but never suffered them to be any impediment to his spirit of prayer and recollection. He practised uncommon mortifications, and was assiduous in assisting at all the parts of the divine office, and in visiting and serving the sick in the hospitals, all his ecclesiastical revenue he bestowed in alms. Vincent, his bishop, abdicating his dignity with the view of preparing himself for death in holy solitude, Yvo of Konski, chancellor of Poland, was placed in that see, and went to Rome, whether to obtain the confirmation of his election, or for other affairs, is not mentioned. He took with him his two nephews Hyacinth and Ceslas. St. Dominic was then at Rome, this happening in the year 1218. Yvo and the bishop of Prague, charmed with the sanctity of his life, the unction of his discourses, and the fruit of his sermons, and being eye-witnesses to some of his miracles, begged some of his preachers for their diocesses. The holy founder was obliged to excuse himself, having sent away so many, that he was not able to supply them. But four of the domestic attendants of the bishop of Cracow desired to embrace his austere institute, namely, the bishop’s two nephews, Hyacinth and Ceslas, and two German gentlemen, Herman and Henry. They received the habit at the hands of St. Dominic, in his convent of St. Sabina, in March, 1218. The perfect disengagement from all things in this world, the contempt of themselves, the universal mortification of their senses, the denial of their own will, the love of continual prayer, and an ardent zeal to glorify God in all their actions and sufferings, were the solid foundation which they laid of the spiritual edifice of their own perfection, by which they labored in the first place to sanctify their own souls. They made their solemn vows by a dispensation, after a novitiate of about six months only; and Hyacinth, then thirty-three years old, was appointed superior of their mission. Yvo of Konski set out for Poland with a suitable equipage. The missionaries took another road, that they might travel on foot, and without provisions, according to the spirit of their institute. Having passed through the Venetian territories they entered Upper Carinthia, where they stayed six months, and St. Hyacinth gave the habit to several of the clergymen and others, founded a convent and left Herman to govern it. The archbishop of Saltzburg received them with all possible respect, and the apostolic men passed through Stiria, Austria, Moravia, and Silesia, announcing everywhere the word of God.

In Poland they were received by all ranks with extraordinary marks of joy and honor. At Cracow the first sermons of St. Hyacinth were attended with incredible success, and in a short time the infamous public vices which reigned in that capital were banished; the spirit of prayer and charity, the holy and frequent use of the sacraments, watching and mortification were revived as they had been practised in the primitive ages. Reconciliations of persons at variance, and restitutions for injustices, which seemed to be despaired of, were effected. The great ones, by their conversions, set the people an example of the most edifying docility. How great soever the power of the words of this apostle and of the example of his holy life were, they would have been less efficacious, had they not been supported by an extraordinary spirit of prayer; and also by miracles, though the saint strove to conceal them under the veil of humility. He founded a numerous convent of his Order, called of the Holy Trinity, in Cracow; another at Sendomir, and a third at Plocsko upon the Vistula, in Moravia. The bull of the canonization of our saint mentions a miracle in that country, attested by above four hundred witnesses, and an ancient history of it is kept in the treasury of the church of Cracow.1 St. Hyacinth came with three companions to the banks of the Vistula, going to preach at Wisgrade; but the flood was so high, hat none of the boats durst venture ever. The disciple of Christ, having made the sign of the cross, walked upon the waters of that deep and rapid river as if it had been upon firm land, in the sight of a great multitude of people waiting for him on the opposite bank towards the town. We may easily imagine with what docility and respect he was heard by those, severa of whom had been spectators of this prodigy. Having preached through the principal cities of Poland, he undertook to carry the gospel into the vast and savage countries of the North. His zeal was too active for him to allow himself any rest whilst he saw souls perishing eternally in the ignorance of the true God; and the length of the journeys over rocks, precipices, and vast deserts was not able to discourage his heroic soul, which delighted in labors and dangers, and could think nothing difficult which was undertaken for so great an end. He banished, in many places, superstition, vice, and idolatry, and built convents of his institute in Prussia, Pomerania, and other countries lying near the Baltic, as at Camyn upon the Oder, at Premislau or Ferzemysla, Culm, Elbin, Konisberg, in the isle of Rugen, and the peninsula of Gedan. In this last place, then a wilderness, he foretold a great city would be built; and in the same age, in 1295, Primislas, King of Poland, laid there the foundation of the famous city of Dantzic, capital of Regal Prussia; and though the Lutheran heresy in the sixteenth age destroyed or profaned all the other churches, that founded by St. Hyacinth still remains in the hands of the Catholics, is their parish church, and is served by Dominican friars. The saint left Prussia and Pomerania to preach in Denmark, Swede land, Gothia, and Norway: in all which countries there still remained many idolators. Lest the devil should shortly destroy the fruits of his labors, he everywhere founded monasteries, and left disciples to preserve and extend them. Notwithstanding his fatigues and hardships amidst barbarous nations, in excessive cold climates, far from allowing himself any dispensation in the perpetual abstinence and other severities of his rule, he continually added to them new austerities. His fasts were almost perpetual, and on all Fridays and vigils on bread and water; the bare ground was his bed, and sometimes in the open fields; neither hunger, thirst, weariness, rains, extreme cold, nor dangers could ever abate his ardor to gain a soul to Christ. He abhorred even the shadow of sin; was humble, charitable, and compassionate, bearing the bowels of a father towards all; every man’s distress drew tears in abundance from his eyes; and he comforted and encouraged all that groaned under the burden of any affliction.

After the abovesaid missions he went into Lesser Russia, or Red Russia, where he made a long stay, and induced the prince, and great multitudes of people, to abjure the Greek schism, and unite themselves to the Catholic Church. He there built the flourishing convents of Leopol or Lemburg, and of Halitz upon the river Niester; from thence he penetrated as far as the Black Sea, and into the isles of the Archipelago. Thence returning towards the north, he entered the great dukedom of Muscovy, called also Great Russia or Black Russia, where he attacked a hundred-headed hydra of idolators, Mahometans, and Greek Schismatics. The few Catholics remaining there had not so much as one church to assemble in. He found the Duke Voldimir inflexible in his errors; however he obtained of him permission to preach to the Catholics. He no sooner began to announce the gospel, confirming his doctrine by miracles, but Mahometans, heathens, and schismatics flocked to hear him, and in great multitudes became docile to the truth. St. Hyacinth founded a great convent at Kiow, then the capital of both Russias. Seeing one day an assembly of idolators on their knees before a great tree in an island in the river Bo isthenes, commonly called the Nieper, he walked over the water to them, and easily prevailed with them, after the sight of such a miracle, to destroy their idols, fell the great oak, and embrace the faith. All these conversions gave no small uneasiness to the duke, who hereupon began by threats and by overt acts to persecute the Catholics, by which he drew down the vengeance of heaven; for the Tartars, so for midable to all Europe in the thirteenth age, after a most bloody and obstinate siege, took Kiow by assault, sacked it, and setting it on fire reduced it to a heap of ashes. St. Hyacinth, in the midst of this desolation, whilst the streets ran in streams of blood, and many parts of the city were on fire, carrying the holy ciborium in one hand, and an image of our Lady in the other, passed through the flames and over the river Nieper.2

The saint returned to Cracow, upon this accident, in 1231, being then fifty-six years old; and enjoyed some repose in his house of the Holy Trinity the two following years, still continuing to preach and instruct both in the city and the country. After two years he made the painful visitation of his convents and communities among the Danes, Swedes, Prussians, Muscovites, and other nations; and penetrated among the Tartars. To preach in Cumania, a country inhabited by the Jazyges, on the Danube, had been the object of the zealous desires of St. Dominic, this being regarded as the most barbarous and obstinate of all infidel nations. Some Dominican preachers had entered this province in the year 1228. St. Hyacinth came into their ungrateful vineyard, and, in consequence of his preaching, in a short time several thousands of these barbarians received the sacrament of baptism, and among them a prince of the Tartars, who went with several lords of his nation to the first general council of Lateran in 1245. We read in the life of St. Louis, that when he landed in Cyprus in 1248, he met an embassy sent him from a powerful Christian prince of these Tartars. Though Great Tartary be a vast wild tract of land, St. Hyacinth travelled quite through it, announcing Christ everywhere, penetrating into Thibet, near the East Indies, and into Cathay, which is the most northern province of China. The missionaries who in the last age visited these parts, found in them many remains of Christianity once planted there.

St. Hyacinth returning into Poland, entered again Red Russia, and there converted many from the schism, particularly prince Caloman and his wife Salome, who both embraced a state of continency and perfection. Also the inhabitants of Podolia, Volhinia, and Lithuania were exceedingly animated by his zealous sermons to the practice of penance, and to a change of manners. The great convent he founded at Vilna, the capital of Lithuania, is the mother-house of a large province of this religious Order. After having travelled above four thousand leagues, he arrived at Cracow in the year 1257 which was the seventy-second and last of his life. Boleslas V. surnamed he Chaste, and his pious wife Cunegunda, were directed by his advice to square their lives by the maxims of Christian perfection. Primislava, a noble lady, having sent her son to invite the saint to come and preach to her vassals, the young nobleman was drowned on his return in crossing a great river. The afflicted mother caused the corpse to be laid at the feet of the servant of God, who, after a fervent prayer, took him by the hand, and restored him to her alive and sound. This is the last miracle recorded in his life. In his last sickness he was forewarned by God on the 14th of August, that he should leave this world on the next day, the feast of the Assumption of our Lady, his great patroness. He made a pathetic exhortation to his religious brethren, recommending to them especially meekness and humility of heart, and to have great care always to preserve mutual love and charity, and to esteem poverty as men that have renounced all things of the earth.

For this,” said he, “is the testament or authentic instrument by which we claim eternal life.” The next morning he assisted at matins and mass: after which he received the viaticum and extreme-unction at the steps of the altar; and expired a few hours after in fervent prayer on the feast of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin, being seventy-two years old. His glory was manifested by a revelation to Pandrotta, the bishop of Cracow, and attested by innumerable miracles, with the history of which the Bollandists have filled thirty-five pages in folio. He was canonized by Clement VIII. in 1594. His relics are preserved in a rich chapel built in his honor at Cracow. Anne of Austria, queen of France, mother of Louis XIV., obtained of Ladislas, king of Poland, a portion of them, which she deposited in the great church of the Dominicans in Paris.

All Christians are not called to the apostolic functions of the ministry; but every one is bound to preach to his neighbor by the modesty of his deportment; by a sincere spirit of meekness, humility, patience, charity, and religion; by an exact fidelity in all duties; by fervor and zeal in the divine service; by temperance and the mortification of all passions and ill humors. These, if not suppressed, easily scandalize and injure those who are witnesses of them. Nothing is more contagious than self-love. He that is nice, fretful, hard to please, full of himself, or a slave to sensuality, easily communicates his malady even to those who see and condemn it in him; but no sermon is usually more powerful than the edifying example of a man of prayer, and of a mortified Christian spirit. This qualification every one owes to God and his neighbor; zeal for the divine honor, and charity for our neighbor, lay us under this obligation.

AUGUST 16 — ST. ROCH, C

We find this eminent servant of God honored, especially in France and Italy, amongst the most illustrious saints in the fourteenth century, soon after his death: nevertheless, says F. Berthier, we have no authentic history of his life. All that we can affirm concerning him is, that he was born of a noble family at Montpelier, and making a pilgrimage of devotion to Rome, he devoted himself in Italy to serve the sick during a raging pestilence. Maldura says this happened at Placentia. Falling himself sick, and unable to assist others, and shunned and abandoned by the whole world, he made a shift to crawl rather than walk into a neighboring forest, where a dog used to lick his sores. He bore incredible pains with patience and holy joy, and God was pleased to restore him to his health. He returned into France, and in the practice of austere penance, and the most fervent piety and charity, he wore out his last years at Montpellier, where he died, as it is commonly said, in 1327. Some postpone his death to the decline of that century, and think he went into Italy only in 1348, when historians mention that a pestilence made dreadful havoc in that country. Many cities have been speedily delivered from the plague by imploring his intercession, in particular that of Constance during the general council held there in 1414. His body was translated from Montpellier to Venice in 1485, where it is kept with great honor in a beautiful church; but certain portions of his relics are shown at Rome, Arles, and many other places. See Pinius the Bollandist, t. 3. Augusti, p. 380. F. Berthier, the last continuator of F. Longueval’s Hist. de l’Eglise de France, t. 13,1. 37, ad an. 1327, and the life of St. Roch by Maldura, translated into French by D’Andilly. Also Pagi the Younger Bened. XIV. &c.

AUGUST 17 — ST. MAMAS, M

From the panegyrics composed in his honor by St. Basil, hom. 26, and St. Gregory Nazianzen, Or. 43. No use is made of the modern Greek acts of his martyrdom.

About the Year 275.

ST. MAMAS is ranked by the Greeks among the great martyrs. His martyrdom is placed under Aurelian. That prince was a Scythian, a native of Dacia or Mœsia, and upon the death of Claudius II. in 270, was chosen emperor by the army at Sirmium, and his election was confirmed by the unwilling senate. Could the majesty of the Roman name be reduced to a meaner slavery than that of obeying any slave or barbarian whom the fortune of war had advanced in the army, and on whom it pleased the soldiery to bestow the empire? Aurelian was a good soldier, bold, enterprising, and severe in military discipline. Being raised to the imperial throne, he discovered his inclination to cruelty by putting to death many senators upon the slightest pretences, and was insolent, haughty, and proud, excessively fond of magnificence, pomp, jewels, and gold. Aurelius Victor says he was the first among the Roman emperors that wore a diadem. He was author of the ninth persecution raised against the Christians. To this he was excited in an expedition he made into Asia.

Zenobia, queen of the East, by the concession of Gallien, was mistress of large dominions, the reward of her and her late husband Odenatus’s valor in bravely repulsing the Persians. Aurelian determined to divest her of her kingdom; but she defended herself by the counsels of Longinus, the most judicious critic and rhetorician, who had been her preceptor and counsellor. Aurelian defeated her armies, destroyed Palmyra in Syria, the capital city of her kingdom, in 273, took her and Longinus prisoners, basely put the latter to death, and led her in triumph. He indeed spared her life, and gave her very great estates in Italy, and she lived at Rome in great dignity many years till her death. Zenobia had favored the Christians in the East; and, though none of them had taken up arms against Aurelian, being returned to Rome from this war, he published most bloody edicts against them in 275, but was himself cut off by a conspiracy in Thrace, as he was marching at the head of his army against the Persians, in April the same year. Lactantius says,1 that by his persecution he drew down the divine displeasure on himself; and he lived not long enough to execute what he had designed, ending his days in the beginning of his rage. Nevertheless St. Austin2 and others mention his bloody persecution, and the calendars testify that many suffered in it.3 Among these none is more famous than St. Mamas. St. Basil and St. Gregory Nazianzen inform us that he was a poor shepherd’s boy at Cæsarea in Cappadocia, who, seeking from his infancy the kingdom of God with his whole heart, distinguished himself by his extraordinary fervor in the divine service. Being apprehended by the persecutors about the year 274 or 275, he suffered the most cruel torments with a holy joy, and attained in his youth a glorious crown of martyrdom. Sozomen4 and St. Gregory Nazianzen5 tell us, that Julian the Apostate and his brother Gallus, being educated at Cæsarea, diverted themselves, when children, in building churches to the martyrs, particularly one to St. Mamas; but that while Gallus’s part advanced, that of Julian fell down every day.

Every Christian ought to rejoice exceedingly, that, how mean soever his condition may be as to the world, an eternal kingdom, compared to which all the sceptres of the earth are mere shadows and dust, is offered him by God, and that it is in his power, through the divine grace, to obtain it; for heaven is justly called in the holy scriptures a kingdom, and all its glorious inhabitants are truly great kings, God communicating to every one of them a full partnership of that honor, in an entire possession of overflowing joy and unspeakable pleasure, of all riches, honor, power, and liberty of doing and commanding according to their own will, which is in all things subject and conformable to the divine. Our faith must be exceeding weak if we do not, with the saints, offer violence, and strain every sinew to make sure our election; if we do not find our joy in all sufferings and disgraces here, by which we may purchase an eternal weight of glory; and if we do not scorn from our hearts this little point of the earth, with all its empty and false enjoyments and promises, making no other use of its goods than as steps to conduct us to God’s immense and immortal kingdom, framed by his almighty hand to display his infinite power, munificence, love, and goodness in favor of his faithful chosen servants to all eternity.

AUGUST 17 — SS. LIBERATUS, ABBOT, AND SIX MONKS, MM

Huneric, the Arian Vandal king in Africa, in the seventh year of his reign, published fresh edicts against the Catholics, and ordered their monasteries to be everywhere demolished. Seven monks who lived in a monastery near Capsa, in the province of Byzacena, were at that time summoned to Carthage. Their names were Liberatus the abbot, Boniface deacon, Servus and Rusticus subdeacons, Rogatus, Septimus, and Maximus, monks. They were first tempted with great promises; but answered, “One faith, one Lord, and one baptism. As to our bodies, do with them what you please, and keep to yourselves those riches which you promise us, and which will shortly perish.” As they remained constant in the belief of the Trinity, and of one baptism, they were loaded with irons, and thrown into a dark dungeon. The faithful having bribed the guards, visited them day and night, to be instructed by them, and mutually to encourage one another to suffer for the faith of Christ. The king being informed of this, commanded them to be more closely confined, loaded with heavier irons, and tortured with inventions of cruelty which had never been heard of till that time soon after, he condemned them to be put into an old ship, and burnt at sea. The martyrs walked cheerfully to the shore, contemning the insults of the Arians as they passed along. Particular endeavors were used by the persecutors to gain Maximus, who was very young; but God, who makes the tongues of children eloquent to praise his name, gave him strength to withstand all their efforts, and he boldly told them, that they should never be able to separate him from his holy abbot and brethren, with whom he had borne the labors of a penitential life for the sake of everlasting glory. An old vessel was filled with dry sticks, and the seven martyrs were put on board, and bound on the wood; and fire was put to it several times, but it went out immediately, and all endeavors to kindle it were in vain. The tyrant, in rage and confusion, gave orders that the martyrs’ brains should be dashed out with oars; which was done, and their bodies were cast into the sea, which, contrary to what was usual on that coast, threw them all on me shore. The Catholics interred them honorably with solemn singing, in the monastery of Bigua, near the church of St. Celerinus. They suffered in the year 483. See their authentic acts, published by Ruinart, at the end of his edition of Victor Vitensis’s History of the Vandalic persecution.

AUGUST 18 — ST. HELEN, EMPRESS

From Eusebius’s life of Constantine, Baronius and Alford’s Annals, Jaeutius, O. S. Ben. Syntagm in Hist. Constantini M. Romæ, 1755. Ledarchius, Diss. de Basllicis SS. Marcellini et Petri. Aringhi Rom. subter.1. 4, c. 9; Pinius, t. 3. Aug. p. 548.

A. D. 328.

WE are assured by the unanimous tradition of our English historians, that his holy empress was a native of our island.* William of Malmesbury, the principal historian of the ancient state of our country after Bede,1 and before him, the Saxon author of the life of St. Helen in 970, quoted by Usher, expressly say that Constantine was a Briton by birth; but an authority which is certainly decisive, is that of the anonymous, elegant, and learned panegyrist, who, haranguing Maximian and Constantine upon the marriage of the latter to Fausta, said to Constantine, “He (Constantius) had freed the provinces of Britain from slavery; you ennobled them by your origin.”† Leland, the most diligent searcher of our antiquities, says,2 Helen was the only daughter of king Coilus, who lived in constant amity with the Romans, and held of them his sovereignty. The Glastonbury historian says the same. Henry of Huntington tells us, that this was the king Coël who first built walls round the city of Colchester, and beautified it so much, that it derives from him its name. That town has for several ages boasted that it gave birth to this great empress; and the inhabitants, to testify their veneration for her memory, take for the arms of the town, in remembrance of the cross which she discovered, a knotty cross between four crowns, as Camden takes notice. Though Mr. Drake will have it that she was rather born at York, as the English orators in the councils of Constance and Basil affirmed; to which opinion he thinks the anonymous panegyrist of Constantine evidently favorable. Constantius, at that time only a private officer in the army, had the happiness to make her his first wife, and had by her Constantine his eldest son, who, as all agree, had his first education under her watchful eye.

To understand the sequel of this history, it is necessary to take a view of the state of the empire at that time. The two brothers, Carinus in the West, and Numerianus in the East, the sons, colleagues, and successors of Carus, being become detestable to all their subjects by their infamous vices, the supreme dignity was devolved upon Diocles, commonly called Dioclesian, on the 17th of September, 284, whence the epoch of his reign, or of the martyrs, as it is called, and which continued long in use, was dated. He was a Dalmatian of very low birth, had been made free by the senator Anullinus, and was at the head of an army in the East, when Numerianus was slain by a conspiracy. To oppose Carinus in the West, he declared Maximian (who took the surname of Herculeus) Cæsar, on the 20th of November, in the same year, 284, and after the death of Carinus, who was cut off by his own men in Upper Mysia, near the Danube, he saluted him emperor, and his colleague, on the 1st of April, 286. Maximian was a native of Sirmium, of the meanest parentage, savage in his manners, countenance, and temper, but a bold and experienced officer. He brutally indulged all his passions, was faithless, and so great a debauchee, that he frequently offered violence to ladies of the first quality, and so covetous, that he put many senators to death to seize their estates, and plundered all the West which he governed. Dioclesian was a soldier, and a politician, but oppressed the provinces with most exorbitant taxes, maintained four times more soldiers than any of his predecessors had done before him, and was passionately fond of building; and when he had finished a palace at an expense which ruined a whole province, he would find some fault with it, and pull it down to raise it after a different manner; nor was the second building secured from a new caprice, upon which it was sometimes again levelled with the ground. So madly expensive was he, that he took it into his head to make Nicomedia, where he usually resided, equal to Rome, and made it desolate of inhabitants to fill it with magnificent palaces, hippodromes, arsenals, and what not. He was no less foolishly vain in his dress, equipage, and furniture. Yet he was so insatiably covetous, that he would always keep his exchequer full from the spoils of families and all the provinces.3 In this the two emperors were not unlike, and they reigned together twenty years. The better to secure themselves, and carry on their wars, they associated to themselves, in 293, two other emperors of an inferior rank, under the name of Cæsars. Dioclesian chose Galerius Maximian, surnamed Armentarius, a native of Dacia, one of the most furious and profligate of men; him he compelled to divorce his wife, and marry his daughter Valeria. Maximian Herculeus pitched upon Constantius Chlorus, a prince never charged with any vice, a good soldier, and nobly born, being descended from the emperor Claudius II. and from Vespasian, from whom his family bore the prænomen Flavius. Herculeus reserved to himself the rich provinces of Italy, Spain, and Africa; Constantius had the countries on this side the Alps, namely Gaul and Britain; Galerius had Illyricum and the places adjacent to the Euxine sea and Dioclesian the East. Constantius, by the articles of this association was obliged to divorce Helen, and to marry Theodora, the daughter-in-law of Maximian. The Christians enjoyed a kind of peace, except that in the West some martyrs suffered, chiefly in the army, or by the natural cruelty of Maximian, who delighted in blood; but in the beginning of the year 302, Galerius at Nicomedia prevailed upon Dioclesian to form a project utterly to extirpate the Christian name.*

Constantine, from his first accession to the throne, by his edicts, forbade the Christians to be molested on account of their religion. Fluctuating what deity to invoke before his battle with Maxentius, he was at length inspired to address himself to the true God, and encouraged by miraculous visions. From that time he published frequent edicts in favor of the Christian faith, built stately churches, munificently adorned altars, and delighted much in the conversation of bishops, whom he often admitted to his table, notwithstanding the meanness of their outward appearance. Baronius says, that the same year in which he vanquished Maxentius, he gave to the bishop of Rome the imperial Lateran palace. In the following year, 313, pope Melchiades held in it a synod, in the apartment of Fausta, the wife of Constantine; and accordingly we find the popes in possession of it in the fourth century. We may judge of this emperor’s liberality to the bishops for the use of the Church and poor, from his letter to Cæcilian, bishop of Carthage, in which he sent him an order to receive from his chief treasurer of Africa three thousand purses,* which amounted to above twenty thousand pounds sterling; adding, that if he found anything more wanting, he should without difficulty demand it of his treasurer, who had from him an order to give him without delay whatever sum he should require. He distributed alms abundantly among the poor of all kinds, even among the pagans. Those who were fallen from a better condition he assisted after a more generous manner, giving land to some, and places to others; he was particularly careful of orphans and widows; and gave portions to virgins.

It appears from Eusebius, that St. Helen was not converted to the faith with her son, till after his miraculous victory; but so perfect was her conversion, that she embraced all the heroic practices of Christian perfection, especially the virtues of piety and almsdeeds, in which she doubtless was a great spur to the emperor. Her dutiful son always honored and respected her, forgetting in her regard that he was emperor of the world, unless to employ his power in serving her. He caused her to be proclaimed Augusta or empress in his armies, and through all the provinces of his empire; and medals to be struck in her honor, in which she is called Flavia Julia Helena. She was advanced in years before she knew Christ; but her fervor and zeal were such as to make her retrieve the time lost in ignorance; and God prolonged her life yet many years to edify by her example the Church which her son labored to exalt by his authority. Rufinus calls her faith and holy zeal incomparable; and she kindled the same fire in the hearts of the Romans, as St. Gregory the Great assures us.4 Forgetting her dignity, she assisted in the churches amidst the people in modest and plain attire; and to attend at the divine office was her greatest delight. Though mistress of the treasures of the empire, she only made, use of them in liberalities and alms; she distributed her charities with profusion wherever she came, and was the common mother of the indigent and distressed. She built churches, and enriched them with precious vessels and ornaments.

Licinius in the East became jealous of Constantine’s prosperity, and attacked him by various hostilities. The Christian emperor defeated him in battle near Cibalis in Pannonia, in 314, and generously granted him peace. His restless ambition could not lie long dormant; he repeated now injuries, and out of aversion to Constantine, began to persecute the Christians in 316, whom he had till then protected; and he put to death many bishops, the Forty Martyrs, and others. He also instigated the Sarmatians to invade the Roman territories; and made himself odious by his covetousness, licentiousness, and cruelty to his own subjects. Constantine, at length, finding all other means ineffectual, declared war; and vast preparations were made on both sides. The armies of Licinius were more numerous, and he threatened, that if his gods gave him victory, as his soothsayers and magicians pretended unanimously to foretell him, he would exterminate their enemies. Constantine prepared himself before the days of each battle by prayer, fasting, and retirement; and caused the ensign called the imperial Labarum, in which was the effigies of the cross, to be carried before his army. In battle, victory everywhere followed this chief standard so visibly, that Licinius, making a second stand near Chalcedon, ordered his soldiers to make no attacks on the side where the great standard of the cross was, nor to look towards it, confessing that it was fatal to him.5 He was first vanquished near Adrianople, where he left almost thirty-four thousand dead upon the spot, in July, 324; and in a second battle near Chalcedon, in which out of one hundred and thirty thousand men, scarce three thousand escaped. Licinius fell into the hands of the conqueror, who spared his life, and sent him to Thessalonica, where, upon information that he was attempting to raise new disturbances, he ordered him to be strangled the year following.

Constantine being, by this victory, become master of the East, concurred in assembling the Council of Nice in 325; and in 326, wrote to Macarius, bishop of Jerusalem, concerning the building of a most magnificent church upon Mount Calvary. St. Helen, though then fourscore years of age, took the charge on herself to see this pious work executed, desiring, at the same time, to discover the sacred cross on which our Redeemer died. Eusebius, in his life of Constantine,6 mentions no other motive of her journey but her desire of adorning the churches and oratories in the holy places, and of relieving the poor in those parts, doubtless out of devotion to the mysteries of our divine Redeemer’s sufferings; but Rufin7 attributes it to visions: Socrates8 to admonitions in her sleep: Theophanes to divine warnings:9 St. Paulinus10 to her piety; saying that she undertook this journey to and the cross amongst other motives of devotion. And Constantine, in his letter to Macarius the bishop of Jerusalem, commissions him to make search for it on Mount Golgotha of Calvary.11 The heap of earth which had been throws by the pagans on the spot was removed, and the statue of Venus cast down, as St. Paulinus and St. Ambrose relate.

Another perplexing difficulty occurred in distinguishing the cross of Christ amongst the three that were found; for the nails found with it were no sufficient proof. The title which lay near it, and doubtless the marks of the nails which had fixed it, furnished an indication, as St. Chrysostom12 and St. Ambrose13 mention. Yet some doubt remained, to remove which, the most wise and divine bishop Macarius, as he is called by Theodoret, who was one of the prelates who had condemned the impiety of Arius at Nice the year before, suggested that a miraculous proof should be asked of God. The pious empress therefore went, attended by the bishop and others, to the house of a lady of quality who lay very sick in the city. The empress having made a prayer aloud, recorded by Rufin,14 the bishop applied the crosses, and the sick person was restored instantly at the touch of the true cross, as all these historians relate. Sozomen, St. Paulinus, and Sulpicius Severus15 add, that a person dead was by the like touch raised to life; but this deserves little notice, being only related upon report, as Sozomen expresses it. St. Helen, when she had discovered the holy cross, “adored not the wood, but the King, Him who hung on the wood. She burned with an earnest desire of touching the remedy of immortality.” These are the words of St. Ambrose. Part of the cross she recommended to the care of the bishop Macarius, and covered it with a rich silver case, of which the bishop of Jerusalem was the guardian, and which he every year exposed to the adoration of the people, says St. Paulinus; and oftener according to the devotion of pilgrims.* She built a most sumptuous church on the spot to receive this precious relic. The other part of the cross she sent to her son the emperor at Constantinople, where it was covered and exposed to the veneration of the people with the greatest solemnity. Of the nails, one she put in a bridle, another in a diadem for her son, says St. Ambrose. A third she threw into the Adriatic gulf in a storm; on which account the sailors entered on that sea as sanctified, with fastings, prayer, and singing hymns to this day, says St. Gregory of Tours.16 Eusebius, intent on the actions of the son of Constantine in his life, speaks not directly of the discovery of the cross, yet mentions it indirectly in the letter of Constantine to Macarius about building the church,17 and describes the two magnificent churches which the empress built, one on mount Calvary, the other on mount Olivet.18 The same historian says,19 “In the sight of all she continually resorted to the church, adorned the sacred buildings with the richest ornaments and embellishments, not passing by the chapels of the meanest towns, appearing amidst the women at prayer in a most humble garment.” Suidas adds, “She was affable, kind, and charitable to all ranks, but especially to religious persons.” To these, says Rufin,20 she showed such respect as to serve them at table as if she had been a servant, set the dishes before them, pour them out drink, hold them water to wash their hands, “though empress of the world and mistress of the empire she looked upon herself as servant of the handmaids of Christ.” She built a convent for holy virgins at Jerusalem, mentioned by Suidas. Eusebius adds, that whilst she travelled over all the East with royal pomp and magnificence, she heaped all kind of favors both on cities and private persons, particularly on soldiers, the poor, the naked; and those who were condemned to the mines; distributing money, garments &c., freeing many from oppression, chains, banishment, &c.21 She beautified and adorned the city of Drepanum in Bithynia, in honor of St. Lucian martyr, so that Constantine caused that city to be called from her Helenopolis. At last, this pious princess returned to Rome,* and perceiving her last hour to approach, gave her son excellent instructions how to govern his empire according to the holy law of God. Then bidding him and her grandchildren a moving farewell, she expired in their presence in the month of August, 328, or, according to some, in 326, which year was the twentieth of her son’s reign, who on that occasion gave magnificent feasts at Rome during three months. Constantine ordered her to be interred with the utmost pomp with a stately mausoleum, and a porphyry urn, the largest and richest in the world, which is now shown in a gallery belonging to the cloister of the Lateran basilic.† He erected a statue to her memory, together with his own, and a large cross, in the middle of a great square in Constantinople; he also erected her statue at Daphne near Antioch. Her name occurs in the Roman Martyrology on the 18th of August, the day of her death.

Notker, abbot of Hautvilliers, in the diocess of Rheims, in 1095, wrote a history of the translation of the relics of St. Helen from Rome to that abbey, which was performed with pomp in 849. The author gives an authentic account of several miracles wrought through the intercession of this saint. He testifies that he had been eyewitness to many of them, and had learned the rest from the very persons on whom they had been performed. Part of this work, which is well written, was published by the Messieurs of Ste-Marthe,22 and by Mabillon,23 and almost the whole is inserted by the Bollandists,24 in their great work. The entire manuscript copy is preserved at Hautvilliers, with an appendix written by the same author, containing an account of two other miracles performed by the relics of this saint.25

This holy empress, and the great prince her son, paid all possible honor to bishops and pastors of the Church. He who truly loves and honors God and religion, has a great esteem for whatever belongs to it; consequently respects its ministers. The first zealous Christian princes were thoroughly sensible that it is impossible to inspire the people with a just value and awful reverence for religion itself, and its immediate object, without a reasonable respect for its sacred ministers. Upon this principle were immunities granted to the Church. Even Numa, and other heathen legislators, observe this maxim, to impress upon men’s minds religious sentiments, though towards in false worship. Scandals in pastors, when notorious, are most execrable sacrileges; and circumspection is necessary that we be not drawn aside or imposed upon by any, because, like Alcimus, they are of the seed of Aaron; but a propensity to censure rashly, and detract from those persons who are invested with a sacred character, is inconsistent with a religious mind, and leads to a revolt. True pastors indeed, in the spirit of the apostles, far from ever resenting, or so much as thinking of any slights that may be put upon their persons, or desiring, much less seeking, any kind of respect, rejoice and please themselves rather in contempt, which in their hearts they sincerely acknowledge to be only their due. Humility is the ornament and the ensign of the sacred order which they hold in the Church of Christ.

AUGUST 18 — ST. AGAPETUS, M

He suffered in his youth a cruel martyrdom at Præneste, now called Palestrina, twenty-four miles from Rome, under Aurelian, about the year 275. His name is famous in the sacramentaries of St. Gelasius, and St. Gregory the Great, and in the ancient calendars of the church of Rome. Two churches in Palestrina, and others in other places, are dedicated to God under his name.

AUGUST 18 — ST. CLARE OF MONTE FALCO, V

She was born at Monte Falco, near Spoletto, in Italy, about the year 1275. She was from her childhood an admirable model of devotion and penance. Having embraced the rule of St. Austin, she was chosen abbess yet very young; in which charge her charity, her example, and her words, inspired all who had the happiness to enjoy her conversation with an ardent desire of the most sublime perfection. Her profound recollection was the effect of the constant union of her soul with God. If she spoke any word which seemed superfluous, she condemned herself to the task of reciting one hundred Our Fathers. The passion of Christ was the favorite object of her devotion. She died on the 18th of August, 1308; the process for her canonization was ordered by pope John XXII. but interrupted by his death. Urban VIII. published the bull of her beatification, and she is named in the Roman Martyrology. See Nævius, in his Eremus Augustiana, p. 368. Cuper the Bollandist, p. 664. Bzovius, de signis Ecclesiæ, 1. 5, c. 49. Bened. XIV. de Canonis. Sanct. t. 4. App. § 48, p. 354.

AUGUST 19 — SAINTS TIMOTHY, AGAPIUS, AND THECLA, MARTYRS

From Eus. de Mart. Palæst. c. 3, and their genuine acts in Assemani, t. 2, p. 184.

A. D. 304.

WHILST Dioclesian yet held the reins of the government in his own hands, Urban the president of Palestine signalized his rage and cruelty against the Christians. In the second year of the general persecution, by his order, St. Timothy, for having boldly confessed his faith, was inhumanly scourged, his sides were torn with iron combs on the rack, and he was at length burnt to death at a slow fire at Gaza, on the 1st of May, 304, giving by his patience, a certain proof that his charity was perfect. SS. Agapius and Thecla, after suffering many torments, were condemned by the same judge to be led to Cæsarea, and there exposed to wild beasts Thecla was despatched by the beasts in the amphitheatre: but Agapius escaped both from their fury, and from the swords of the confectors on that day. He was therefore detained two years longer in prison, till Maximin Daia Cæsar gave orders that this confessor should be one of the victims to grace the festival, unless he would abjure the Christian faith. His sufferings had no way abated his constancy, and the delay of his crown had increased the ardor of his desires speedily to join his companions in glory. In the amphitheatre he was torn by a bear, but not killed either by the beasts or confectors; and wounded as he was, on the following day he was thrown into the sea; both Latins and Greeks celebrate the memory of these martyrs on the 19th of August.

A glorious company of happy friends waits for us in God’s heavenly kingdom! Innumerable legions of angels, and all the saints who have lived on earth before us from the beginning of the world; so many holy kings, doctors, hermits, martyrs, virgins, and confessor’s, and several friends with whom we here conversed. They are already arrived at the safe harbor of eternal bliss. With what pleasure do we, with Agapius, raise our thoughts and eyes towards them, contemplating the joys and glory of which they are now possessed, and comparing with it our present state of conflicts, dangers, and sufferings! They look down from their seats of glory on us, and behold our combats with affection and solicitude for us. We are called to follow them, and do not we redouble our desires to join them? do not we earnestly prepare ourselves by compunction, penance, divine love, and the practice of all good works, to be worthy of their fellowship? do not we exult at the thought that we are very shortly, by the divine mercy, to be united to that blessed company, and made partners of their joy, triumph, and glory? do not we sigh for that hour, and, in the mean time, despise from our hearts all foolish promises or threats of the world, and bear with joy all labors or pains, that we may with the saints enjoy Christ? “Oh! if the glorious day of eternity had already shone upon us, whither would it even now have carried us? in what joys should we have been this instant overwhelmed?” says the devout Thomas à Kempis.

AUGUST 19 — ST. LEWIS, BISHOP OF TOULOUSE, C

This saint was little nephew to St. Lewis, king of France, and nephew by his mother to St. Elizabeth of Hungary. He was born at Brignoles in Provence, in 1274, and was second son to Charles II., surnamed the Lame, king of Naples and Sicily, and to Mary, daughter of Stephen V. king of Hungary. He was a saint from the cradle, and from his childhood made it his earnest study to do nothing which was not directed to the divine service, and with a view only to eternity. Even his recreations he referred to this end, and chose only such as were serious, and seemed barely necessary for the exercise of the body, and preserving the vigor of the mind. His walks usually led him to some church or religious house. It was his chief delight to hear the servants of God discourse of mortification, or the most perfect practices of piety. His modesty and recollection in the Church inspired with devotion all who saw him. His mother assured the author of his life, that when he was only seven years old, she found him often lying in the night on a mat which was spread on the floor near his bed, which he did out of an early spirit of penance. He inured himself to the practice of self-denial, sobriety, and mortification from his tender years. His mother herself taught him this lesson, judging it no severity for him to practise that for the sake of virtue which the Lacedemonians, and other warlike nations, obliged their children to do for the sake of corporal strength, and that they might be trained up to a martial life. The government and restraint of the senses, and of all the affections of the soul, especially against gluttony, lust, and other importunate passions, according to the prescript of reason, is called the virtue of Temperance; and is that cardinal virtue which chiefly enables us and prepares us for all moral good; it is the sure basis upon which the whole building of a good life is erected, and was called by the ancient Greek philosophers the storehouse of all virtues. Under this are comprised chastity, sobriety, meekness, poverty of spirit, contempt of the world, humility, modesty or the government of a man’s exterior, especially of the tongue; compunction, cleanness of heart, peace of mind, the mastery of the senses and passions, and the triumph over our own most dangerous and domestic enemies; all which make up the noble train of her attendants. These are the delightful streams which flow from her fountain; the beautiful flowers which grow in her garden, and are cultivated by her care. It is not therefore to be wondered at, that all these virtues took early root in the soul of a young prince who laid their foundation so deep. God, by an unforeseen affliction, furnished him with a powerful means of spiritual improvement, and Lewis was inspired by his mercy with docility to the grace.

In 1284, two years after the general revolt of the two Sicilies, our saint’s father, Charles II. then prince of Salerno, was taken prisoner in a sea-fight by the king of Arragon. His father Charles died within a few months, and he was saluted by his friends, king of Sicily, but he remained four years prisoner, and was only released on hard conditions; being moreover obliged to send into Arragon, for hostages, fifty gentlemen, and three of his sons, one of whom was our saint, who was then fourteen years old; and remained seven years at Barcelona in rigorous captivity, where the inhuman usage he met with afforded him occasions for the exercise of patience and all other virtues. He was always cheerful, and encouraged his companions under their sufferings, often saying to them, “Adversity is most advantageous to those who make profession of serving God. We learn by it patience, humility, and resignation to the divine will, and are at no other time better disposed for the exercise of all virtue. Prosperity blinds the soul, makes it giddy and drunk, so as to make her forget both God and herself; it emboldens and strengthens exceedingly all the passions, and flatters pride, and the inordinate love of ourselves.” Not content with what he suffered from the severity of his condition, he practised extraordinary voluntary austerities, fasted rigorously several days every week, rejected the least vain or dangerous amusements, and would never see or speak to any woman but in public company, fearing the most remote danger of any snare that could be laid to his purity. He knew that this holy and amiable virtue is only to be kept untainted by a life of assiduous devout prayer, frequent pious meditation on the precepts of religion, the strictest rules of temperance, and the diligent shunning of all dangers: for, the least occasion, or the smallest spark of temptation, when not watched against, may sometimes suffice to put the contrary passion into a flame. He every day recited the Church office, the office of our Lady, that of the passion of Christ, and several other devotions: went every day to confession before he heard mass, that he might assist at that tremendous sacrifice with greater purity of soul; and, as the whole city of Barcelona was his prison, he often waited on the sick in the hospitals. He obtained leave that two Franciscan friars, that were appointed to attend him, might live with him in his own apartments; he rose to pray with them in the night, and under them he applied himself diligently to the studies of philosophy and theology. In a dangerous fit of illness he made a vow to embrace that austere Order, if he recovered his health and his liberty. In his releasement, he seemed to have no other joy than in the power of fulfilling this engagement.

He was set at liberty in 1294, by a treaty concluded between the king of Naples, his father, and James 2. king of Arragon; one condition of which was the marriage of his sister Blanche with the king of Arragon. Both courts had, at the same time, extremely at heart the project of a double marriage, and that the princess of Majorca, sister to king James of Arragon, should be married to Lewis, on whom his father promised to settle the kingdom of Naples (which he had in part recovered), his eldest brother, Charles Martel, prince of Salerno, having been already crowned king of Hungary, in the right of his mother Mary, sister to the late king Ladislas IV., but the saint’s resolution of dedicating himself to God was inflexible, and he resigned his right to the crown of Naples, winch he begged his father to confer on his next brother, Robert; which was done accordingly. Thus it was his ambition to follow Jesus Christ, poor and humble, rather than to be raised to honor in the world, which has no other recompenses to bestow on those who serve it but temporal goods. “Jesus Christ,” said he, “is my kingdom. If I possess him alone, I shall have all things: if I have not him, I lose all.” The opposition of his family obliged the superiors of the Friar Minors to refuse for some time to admit him into their body; wherefore he took holy orders at Naples. The pious pope St. Celestine had nominated him archbishop of Lyons in 1294; but, as he had not then taken the tonsure, he found means to defeat that project. Boniface VIII. gave him a dispensation to receive priestly orders in the twenty-third year of his age; and afterward sent him a like dispensation for the episcopal character, together with his nomination to the archbishopric of Toulouse, and a severe injunction in virtue of holy obedience to accept the same. However, he took a journey first to Rome; and to fulfil his vow, made his religious profession among the Friar Minors, in their great convent of Ara Cœli, on Christmas Eve, 1296, and received the episcopal consecration in the beginning of the February following.

He travelled to his bishopric as a poor religious, but was received at Toulouse with the veneration due to a saint, and the magnificence that became a prince. His modesty, mildness, and devotion, inspired a love of piety into all that beheld him. It was his first care to provide for the relief of the indigent, and his first visits were made to the hospitals and poor. Having taken an account of his revenues, he reserved to his own use a very small part, allotting the rest entirely to the poor; of whom he entertained twenty-five every day at his own table, serving them himself, and sometimes bending one knee when he presented them necessaries. He extended his charities over all his father’s kingdom, and made the visitation of his whole diocess, leaving everywhere monuments of his zeal, charity, and sanctity. In his apostolical labors, he abated nothing of his austerities, said mass every day, and preached frequently. He was very severe in the examination of the abilities and piety of all those whom he admitted and employed among his clergy. Sighing under the weight of the charge which was committed to him, he earnestly desired leave to resign it, but could not be heard. He answered to some that opposed his inclination “Let the world call me mad, provided I may be discharged from a burden which is too heavy for my shoulders I am satisfied. Is it not better for me to endeavor to throw it off than to sink under it?” God was pleased to grant him what he desired by calling him to himself. Being obliged to go into Provence for certain very urgent ecclesiastical affairs, he fell sick at the castle of Brignoles. Finding his end draw near, he said to those about him, “After a dangerous voyage I am arrived within sight of the port, which I have long earnestly desired. I shall now enjoy my God whom the world would rob me of; and I shall be freed from the heavy charge which I and not able to bear.” He received the viaticum on his knees, melting in tears, and in his last moments ceased not to repeat the Hail Mary. He died on the 19th of August, 1297, being only twenty-three years and a half old. He was buried in the convent of Franciscan Friars at Marseilles, as he had ordered. Pope John XXII., the successor of Boniface VIII., canonized him at Avignon, in 1317, and addressed a brief thereupon to his mother, who was still living. The saint’s relics were enshrined in a rich silver case, in the same year, in presence of his mother, his brother Robert king of Sicily, and the queen of France. In 1423, Alphonsus, surnamed the Magnanimous, king of Arragon and Naples, having taken and plundered Marseilles, carried away these relics and deposited them at Valentia in Spain, where they remain to this day. See the life of St. Lewis, carefully written by one who had been intimately acquainted with him, and the bull of his canonization; also Fleury, t. 18, and Pinius the Bollandist. &c.

AUGUST 19 — ST. MOCHTEUS, B. C

He was a Briton, a disciple of St. Patrick, and the first bishop of Louth in Ireland. He died in 535, and is called Mochta Lugh. See Adamnan in the life of St. Columba, and Usher’s Antiq. Britann. c. 8.

AUGUST 19 — ST. CUMIN,* BISHOP IN IRELAND

He was son to Fiachna, king of West-Munster, and born in the year 592. He early embraced a monastic state, and after some years was made abbot of Keltra, an isle in the lake Dergdarg upon the river Shannon, sixteen miles from Limerick. Bishop Usher in his Sylloge of ancient Irish epistles, has favored the public with an excellent letter of St. Cumin to Segienus the fourth abbot of Hy, who died in 651. The purport is to persuade the monks of that house, whose authority bore great sway in the Pictish and Irish churches, to join with the Roman universal Church as to the time of celebrating Easter, which conformity he enforces with great strength of reasoning, and with admirable charity, humility, and piety. (This epistle alone suffices to give us a high idea of the learning, eloquence, and extraordinary virtue of the author. In it, speaking of the relics of saints, he testifies that he had been an eyewitness to several miraculous cures wrought by them.†) But a veneration for the memory of St. Columb, who by mistake had followed that practice, fixed them some time longer in their erroneous computation of that festival. This difference, however, was only in a point of discipline, nor did it amount to the guilt of schism where it did not proceed to a breach of communion. The councils of Arles and Nice had condemned the Quartodecimans, who celebrated Easter with the Jews always on the fourteenth day of the first moon after the spring equinox, which was to revive the Jewish ceremonies; but the practice of the Scots and Irish receded from that error, though not so much as to come up to the perfect standard of the Nicene decree; for, whereas that council ordered Easter never to be kept on the fourteenth day, that the Christian feast might never fall in with that of the Jews, these remote monks, by some mistake, had adopted a practice of keeping it on the Sunday, when it fell on the fourteenth day. Obstinacy might in the end render such a practice in some a criminal disobedience; which simplicity easily excused in others. This letter and zealous endeavors of St. Cumin, disposed many to inquire into, and some time after to embrace, the discipline of the universal Church.

St. Cumin was afterward advanced to the episcopal dignity, and has left us a hymn, and a collection of penitential canons,1 in which some things are taken from the penitential of St. Columban; but the true rile of observing Easter is confirmed. Ughelli informs us,2 that St. Cumin resigning his bishopric in Ireland, retired to the monastery of Bobbio in Italy, where St. Columban had left this mortal life in 615. He lived there in great sanctity twenty years, and died, according to Usher, in 682, but according to the Annals of the Four Masters in 661, the 12th of November. Luitprand, the most munificent and pious king of the Lombards, who ascended the throne in 712, erected a sumptuous monument to his memory at Bobbio. He is honored in Ireland and Italy on the 19th of August. See Usher, Antiq. c. ult., p. 503 and 539. Also Cave, Hist. Littér. ad an. 640, t. 1, p. 584. Ceillier, t. 17, p. 659. Mabillon in Analectis, p. 17. Sir James Ware,1.1, de Scriptor. Hib. p. 34.

AUGUST 20 — ST. BERNARD, ABBOT

From his original life, in five books; the first of which was written by William, abbot of St. Thierry of Theodoric, near Rhelms, his intimate friend; the second by Arnold, abbot of Bonnevanx; and the three last by Geoffrey, some time secretary to the saint, afterward abbot, first of Igny, then of Clairvaux; all eye-witnesses of the saint’s actions. To these five books Mabillon adds three others, containing histories of his miracles; one compiled by Philip, a monk of Clairvaux, addressed to Sampson, archbishop of Rheims; another written by the monks of this monastery to the clergy of Cologne, drawn from the book entitled, The Exordium or beginning of Clteaux; the third, compiled by Geoffrey, abbot of Igny, addressed to the bishop of Constance. Mabillon hath also given us the life of St. Bernard, composed by Alanus, abbot of Larivoir, made bishop of Auxerre in 1153; fragments of another life, which is believed to belong to Geoffrey; and a third life written about the year 1180, by John the hermit, who had lived with St. Bernard’s disciples See also his lives, compiled by Mabillon and Le Nain.

A. D. 1153.

ST. BERNARD, the prodigy and great ornament of the eleventh age, was the third son of Tescelin and Aliz or Alice, both of the prime nobility in Burgundy, and related to the dukes, particularly Aliz, who was daughter of Bernard, lord of Mombard. Our saint was born in 1091, at Fontaines, a castle near Dijon, and a lordship belonging to his father. His parents were persons of great piety, and his mother, not content to offer him to God as soon as he was born, as she did all her seven children, afterward consecrated him to his service in the Church, as Anne did Samuel, and from that day considered him as not belonging to her, but to God; and she took a special care of his education, in hopes that he would one day be worthy to serve the altar. Indeed she brought up all her children very discreetly and piously and never trusted them to nurses. Their names were Guy, Gerard, Bernard, Humbeline, Andrew, Bartholomew, and Nivard. The other sons were applied young to learn military exercise and feats of arms; but Bernard was sent to Chatillon on the Seine, to pursue a complete course of studies in a college of secular priests who were canons of that church. He even then loved to be alone; was always recollected, obedient, obliging to all, and modest beyond what can be expressed. He made it his continual earnest prayer to God, that he would never suffer him to sully his innocence by sin. He gave to the poor all the money he got. The quickness of his parts astonished his masters, and his progress in learning was far greater than could be expected from one of his age; but he was still much more solicitous to listen to what God, by his holy inspirations, spoke to his heart. One Christmas-night in his sleep he seemed to see the divine infant Jesus so amiable, that from that day he ever had a most tender and sensible devotion towards that great mystery of love and mercy, and in speaking of it he always seemed to surpass himself in the sweetness and unction of his words. His love of chastity so restrained his senses, that he never showed any inclination to the least levity or curiosity, by which the passions are usually inflamed, and his body being kept always in subjection to the spirit, was readily disposed to obey it in all habits of virtue. The saint entered upon the studies of theology, and of the holy scriptures, at Chatillon. He was nineteen years old when his mother died. Her excessive charities, and attendance in the hospitals, her fasts, her devotions, and all her other virtues, had gained her the reputation of a living saint. Having a great devotion to St. Ambrose, she had a custom of inviting all the clergy from Dijon to Fontaines, to celebrate his festival. On the vigil of that day, in 1110, she was seized with a fever, and on the festival itself received the extreme-unction and viaticum, answered to the recommendation of her soul recited by all this religious company, and having made the sign of the cross, happily expired.

Bernard was then returned to Fontaines, and now become his own master; for his father was employed at a distance about his business and in the army. He made his appearance in the world with all the advantages and talents which can make it amiable to a young nobleman, or which could make him loved by it. His quality, vivacity of wit, and cultivated genius, his prudence and natural modesty, his affability and sweetness of temper, and the agreeableness of his conversation, made him beloved by all; but these very advantages had their snares. His first danger was from his false friends and companions; but the light of grace made him discover their first attempts, and resolutely repulse them, and shun such treacherous worldly company for the time to come. Once he happened to fix his eyes on the face of a woman; but immediately reflecting that this was a temptation, he ran to a pond, and leaped up to the neck into the water, which was then as cold as ice, to punish himself, and to vanquish the enemy. On another occasion, an impudent woman assaulted him; but he drove her out of his chamber with the utmost indignation. Bernard, by these temptations, was affrighted at the snares and dangers of the world, and began to think of forsaking it, and retiring to Citeaux, where God was served with great fervor. He fluctuated some time in his mind, and one day going to see his brothers, who were then with the duke of Burgundy at the siege of the castle Grancei, in great anxiety he stept into a church in the road, and prayed with many tears that God would direct him to discover and follow his holy will. He arose steadily fixed in the resolution of embracing the severe Cistercian institute. His brothers and friends endeavored to dissuade him from it; but he so pleaded his cause as to draw them all over to join him in his courageous undertaking. Gauldri, lord of Touillon, near Autun, the saint’s uncle, a nobleman who had gained great reputation by his valor in the wars, readily came into the same resolution. Bartholomew and Andrew, two younger brothers of Bernard, also declared that they made the same choice. Guy, the eldest brother, held out longest, having greater obstacles which seemed to fix him in the world; for he was married, and had two daughters; but his lady consenting, and professing herself a nun at Laire near Dijon, he also came over. Gerard, the second brother, was not to be so easily overcome, being a captain of reputation, and full of the world; but being soon after wounded in his side by a lance, and taken prisoner, he by serious reflection entered into himself, and ran to join his brothers. Hugh of Macon, a very noble, rich, and virtuous lord (who afterward founded the monastery of Pontigni, and died bishop of Auxerre), an intimate friend of St. Bernard, upon the news of his design, wept bitterly at the thoughts of his separation, but by two interviews was induced to become his companion. They all assembled in a house at Chatillon, preparing themselves by suitable exercises to consecrate themselves to God in the most perfect dispositions of soul. On the day appointed for the execution of their design, Bernard and his brothers went to Fontaines to take their last farewell of their father, and to beg his blessing. They had left Nivard their youngest brother to be a comfort to him in his old age. Going out, they saw him at play with other children of his age, and Guy the elder said to him, “Adieu, my little brother Nivard; you will have all our estates and lands to yourself.” The boy answered, “What! you then take heaven for your portion, and leave me only the earth. The division is too unequal.” They went away; but soon after Nivard followed them; so that, of the whole family, there only remained in the world the old father, and with him his daughter St. Humbeline.

Bernard was seconded in his resolutions by thirty noblemen and gentlemen, including his brothers, and after they had stayed six months at Chatillon to settle their affairs, he accompanied them to Citeaux. That monastery had been founded fifteen years, and was at that time governed by St. Stephen. This holy company arrived there in 1113, and prostrating themselves before the gate begged to be admitted to join the monks in their penitential lives. St. Stephen seeing their fervor, received them with open arms, and gave them the habit. St. Bernard was then twenty-three years old. He entered this house in the desire to die to the remembrance of men, to live hidden, and be forgotten by creatures, that he might be occupied only on God. To renew his fervor against sloth he repeated often to himself this saying of the great Arsenius; Bernard, Bernard, “why camest thou hither?” He practised himself what he afterward used to say to postulants who presented themselves to be admitted into his monastery at Clairvaux: “If you desire to live in this house, you must leave your body; only spirits must enter here; that is, persons who live according to the Spirit.” He studied to mortify his senses, and to die to himself in all things. This practice by habit became a custom, and by custom, was almost changed into nature; so that his soul being always occupied on God, he seemed not to perceive what passed about him, so little notice did he take of things, as appeared in several occurrences. After a year’s novitiate he did not know whether the top of his cell was covered with a ceiling; nor whether the church had more than one window, though it had three. Two faults however into which he fell, served to make him more watchful and fervent in his actions. The exact author of Exordium of Citeaux relates, that the saint had been accustomed to say every day privately seven psalms for the repose of the soul of his mother; but he one day omitted them. St. Stephen knew this by inspiration, and said to him the next morning, “Brother Bernard, whom did you commission to say the seven psalms for you yesterday?” The novice, surprised that a thing could be known which he had never discovered to any one, full of confusion, fell prostrate at the feet of St. Stephen, confessed his fault, and asked pardon, and was ever after most punctual in all his private practices of devotion, which are not omitted without an imperfection; nor with out a sin, if it be done through sloth or culpable neglect. His other offence was, that one day being ordered by his abbot to speak to certain secular friends, he took some satisfaction in hearing their questions and answers; in punishment of which he found his heart deprived of spiritual consolation. In expiation he prayed often prostrate long together at the foot of the altar during five-and-twenty days in sighs and groans, till he was again visited by the divine Spirit. He afterward in necessary conversation kept his mind so carefully recollected on God that his heart did not go astray.

After the year of his novitiate he made his profession in the hands of St. Stephen with his companions in 1114; but with that perfect sacrifice of himself and disengagement of his heart from all creatures, which is better imagined than expressed, and which drew on him the most abundant graces. He set out with extraordinary ardor in all his monastic exercises. The saint not being able to reap the corn so as to keep up with the rest, his superior ordered him other work; but he begged of God that he might be enabled to cut the corn, and soon equalled the best hands. At his work his soul was continually occupied on God in great fervor, and he used afterwards to say, that he never had any other master in his studies of the holy scriptures but the oaks and beeches of the forest; for that spiritual learning in which he became so great an oracle, was a gift of the Holy Ghost, obtained by his extraordinary purity of heart, and assiduous meditation and prayer. The peace, humility, and fervor of his soul seemed painted in his countenance, in which the charms of a certain heavenly grace often captivated and surprised those that beheld him, though his face was emaciated, and exceeding pale and wan, and his whole body bore visible marks of his austere penitential life. He almost always labored under some corporal infirmity, and his stomach, through a habit of excessive fasting, was scarce ever able to bear any solid food. He suffered all his distempers without ever speaking of them, or using any indulgence, unless compelled by those who took notice of them. He often made a scruple of taking on those occasions a herb pottage, in which a little oil and honey were mixed. When another expressed his surprise at his making such a difficulty, he answered, “Did you know how great the obligation of a monk is, you would not eat one morsel of bread without having first watered it with your tears.” He used to say, “Our fathers built their monasteries in damp unwholesome places, that the monks might have the uncertainty of life more sensibly before their eyes.” For monasteries were anciently built chiefly in uncultivated deserts, rocks, or swampy lands; though the monks in many places, with incredible industry, drained their morasses, and converted them into gardens and meadows. St. Bernard was a great lover of poverty in his habit, cell, and all other things; but called dirtiness a mark of sloth or of affectation. He seemed, by a habit of mortification and recollection, to have lost all attention to, or relish of food, and often took one liquor for another, when offered him by mistake, so that he once drank oil instead of water. His chief sustenance was coarse bread softened in warm water. All the time which he spent in contemplation seemed short to him, and he found every place convenient for that exercise. He did not interrupt it in the midst of company, conversing in his heart always with God; but he omitted no opportunity of speaking for the edification of his neighbor, and adapted himself with wonderful charity to the circumstances of all ranks, learned or unlearned, nobles or plebeians. Though his writings are filled with holy unction, they cannot convey the grace and fire of his words; and he employed the holy scripture with so much readiness and so happily on all occasions, that therein he seemed to follow the light of the Holy Ghost.

The number of monks being grown too great at Citeaux, St. Stephen founded in 1113, the monastery of La Ferté upon the river Grosne, in Burgundy, two leagues from Challons on the Saone; and in 1114, that of Pontigni in Champagne, upon the frontiers of Burgundy, four leagues from Auxerre. Hugh, earl of Troyes, offered a spot of ground in his estates, whereon to found a third monastery; and the holy superior, seeing the great progress which Bernard had made in a spiritual life, and his extraordinary abilities for any undertaking in which the divine honor was concerned, gave him a crosier, appointed him abbot, and ordered him to go with twelve monks, among whom were his brothers, to found a new house in the diocess of Langres in Champagne. They walked in procession singing psalms, with their new abbot at their head, and settled in a desert called the Valley of Wormwood encompassed by a wild forest, which then afforded a retreat for abundance of robbers. These thirteen monks grubbed up a sufficient spot, and with the assistance of the bishop of Challons and the people of the country, built themselves little cells. This young colony had often much to suffer, and being several times in extreme necessity, was as often relieved in some sudden unexpected manner; which wonderful effects of kind providence St. Bernard made use of to excite their confidence in God. These fervent monks, animated by the example of their abbot, seemed to find nothing hard or difficult in their extreme poverty and austerity. Their bread was usually made of coarse barley, and sometimes chiefly of vetches or cockle; and boiled beechtree leaves were sometimes served up instead of herbs. Bernard at first was so severe upon the smallest distractions and least transgressions of his brethren, whether in confession or in chapter, that although his monks behaved with the utmost humility and obedience, they began to fall into dejection; which made the abbot sensible of his fault. He condemned him self for it to a long silence. At length, being admonished by a vision, he resumed his office of preaching with extraordinary unction and fruit, as William of St. Thierry relates. The reputation of this house, and of the sanctity of the abbot, in a short time became so great, that the number of monks in it amounted to one hundred and thirty, and the country gave this valley the name of Clara-vallis or Clarval. It is now commonly called Clairvaux or Clervaux, and is situated eleven leagues from Langres in Champagne. This monastery was founded in 1115.

St. Bernard seemed to set no bounds to the austerities which he practised himself. William of St. Thierry says, that he went to his meals as to a torment, and that the sight of food seemed often his whole refection. His watchings were incredible. He seemed by his mortifications to have brought upon himself a dangerous distemper, and his life was almost despaired of about the end of the year 1116. His great admirer, the learned and good bishop of Challons, William of Champeaux, who had formerly been a most eminent professor of theology in the schools of Paris, apprehensive for his life, repaired to the chapter of the Order then held at Citeaux, and obtained authority to govern him as his immediate superior for one year. With this commission he hastened to Clairvaux, and lodged the abbot in a little house without the inclosure, with orders that he should not observe even the rule of the monastery as to eating and drinking; and that he should be entirely discharged from all care of the affairs of his community. Here the saint lived under the direction of a physician, from whose hands he received everything with silence and an entire indifference. William, the saint’s historian, paid him a visit in this situation, and in the description which he gives of Clairvaux says, than the bread which the monks ate seemed rather made of earth than of flour, though it was made of corn of their own sowing in their desert; and that their other food could have no taste but what extreme hunger or the love of God could give it. Yet the novices found it too dainty.

After a year, St. Bernard returned in good health to his monastery, and to the practice of his former austerities. His aged father Tescelin followed him, received the habit at his hands, and died happily soon after at Clairvaux. In 1115 St. Stephen founded the abbey of Morimond in Champagne, though part of the refectory now stands in Lorrain. The first four daughters of Citeaux, namely, La Ferté, Pontigni, Clairvaux, and Morimond, became each a mother-house to many others which are called their filiations. Subordinate to the abbey of Morimond are reckoned seven hundred benefices, chiefly in Spain and Portugal, where five military orders are subject to it, namely, those of Calatrava, Alcantara, Montesa, Avis, and Christi. But that of Clairvaux has the most numerous offspring. St. Bernard founded, in 1118, the abbey of Three Fountains, in the diocess of Challons; that of Fontenay, in the diocess of Autun, and that of Tarouca in Portugal. He about that time wrought his first miracle, restoring to his senses, by singing mass, a certain lord, his relation, called Josbert de la Ferté, that he might confess his sins; though he died three days after. When the saint had confidently promised this miraculous restoration of Josbert, his uncle Balderic or Baudri, and his brother Gerard, fearing for the event, were for correcting his words; but the saint reproving their diffidence, repeated the same assurance in stronger terms; for the saints feel a secret supernatural instinct when for the divine honor they undertake to work a miracle. The author of St. Bernard’s life adds an account of other sick persons cured instantaneously by the saint’s forming the sign of the cross upon them, attested by eye-witnesses of dignity and unexceptionable veracity. The same author and Maniquez relate certain visions by which the saint was informed in what manner some of his monks were delivered from purgatory, by masses said for the repose of their souls; and of the glory of others. They also mention that, in 1121, St. Bernard founded the abbey of Foigni, in the diocess of Laon, in which the venerable bishop of that see made his monastic profession. The Church of that monastery was exceedingly haunted by flies, till by the saint’s saying he excommunicated them, they all died; and such swarms of them appeared there no more; which malediction of the flies of Foigni became famous to a proverb.1 The saint about that time began to compose his works.*

Being obliged to take a journey to Paris in 1122, at the request of the bishop and arch-deacon, he preached to the students who wore candidates for holy orders; many of whom were so moved by his discourses, that they accompanied him back to Clairvaux, and persevered there with great fervor. Several German noblemen and gentlemen who called to see that monastery, were so strongly affected with the edifying example of the monks, that after they had gone a little way, discoursing together upon what they had heard from the saint’s mouth, and observed in his holy community, they agreed to return, hung up their swords, and all took the habit. Their conversion appeared the more wonderful, as, till that day, they had lived full of worldly vanity, and passionately addicted to combats of chivalry, and the foolish pride of tilts and tournaments. Humility made the saint sincerely to regard himself as utterly unworthy and incapable of admonishing others, but the ardor of his zeal and charity opened his mouth, and he poured forth his thoughts with such a strength of eloquence, and tender affecting charity and humility, that his words could not fail to inflame the most frozen hearts.

He received into his monastery monks who came to him from Cluni, and other Orders that were less austere; but declared that he was most willing to dismiss any of his own who should desire to pass to any other religious institute, out of the motive of seeking their greater perfection. So little did he think of the interest of his own body, which easily becomes a cloak to avarice and ambition, that he yielded to the Order of Premontré and others several good foundations which were first offered him; he was several times chosen bishop of Langres and Challons, and archbishop of Genoa, Milan, and Rheims; but so strenuously opposed the motion with entreaties and tears, that the popes were unwilling to offer too great violence to his humility, and seemed with the whole world to stand in awe of his wonderful sanctity. In 1120, he was for a long time confined to his cell by a dangerous fit of sickness, and in the year 1125, in which, during a grievous famine, he had often exhausted the provisions of his monastery to furnish the poor with bread, he seemed by a dangerous distemper brought to the very gates of death. It happened in this fit of illness that he once appeared to those about him as if he had been in his agony, and, his monks being all assembled around him, he fell into a trance, in which he seemed to himself to behold the devil grievously accusing him before the throne of God. To every part of the charge he made only this answer,—“I confess myself most unworthy of the glory of heaven, and that I can never obtain it by my own merits. But my Lord possesseth it upon a double title; that of natural inheritance, by being the only begotten Son of his eternal Father; and that of purchase, he having bought it with his precious blood. This second title he hath transferred on me; and, upon this right, I hope, with an assured confidence, to obtain it through his adorable passion and mercy.” By this plea, the perverse accuser was confounded, and disappeared, and the servant of God returned to himself, and shortly after recovered his former state of health.2

Most affecting are the sentiments of profound humility, holy fear, and compunction, which this great saint discovers. He tells us that he embraced God by his two feet, that of his mercy, and that of his justice; to exclude, by the latter, sloth and presumption; and, by the former, despair and anxiety.3 He declares often, in the most moving terms, how much he was penetrated with this saving fear, which he nourished in his soul by having the divine judgments always before his eyes. “I am seized all over,” says he,4 “with horror, dread, and trembling, whenever I repeat within myself that sentence, Man knoweth not whether he be worthy of love or hatred.” Compunction is the parent of sincere humility; and, in this, our saint appeared always most admirable. Inculcating to others the advantages and obligations of this virtue, he observes, that so great is its excellency, that pride dares not show itself naked, but seeks to appear in a mask, and puts on that of humility, which he defines a virtue by which a man, from a true knowledge of himself, is contemptible in his own eyes.5 Whenee he puts us in mind that it resides partly in the understanding and partly in the will; for it is founded in a per feet knowledge of ourselves, that is, of our nothingness, sinfulness, baseness, weakness, and absolute insufficiency. Nor is this to be a speculative, but a feeling and experimental knowledge, by which we sincerely despise ourselves, as deserving all contempt, disgrace, and chastisement from all creatures; and as unworthy of all mercy, grace, or favor, temporal or spiritual, all which are the most pure gratuitous effects of the divine goodness in favor of undeserving creatures. He discovers the most profound sense of his own baseness and wretchedness, and treats himself as the outcast of all creatures. The praises and esteem of others were to him the most stinging reproaches, and covered him with confusion and grief, because they only showed the opinion of others concerning him, and what he ought to be, not what his actions were; for he saw them to be full only of stench and corruption,—“All commendation bestowed on us,” said he, “is flattery, and the joy which is conceived from it, is foolish vanity.”6 To some he said, “My monstrous life, and my afflicted conscience, cry towards you for compassion; for I am a kind of amphibious creature, that neither lives as an ecclesiastic nor as a recluse. When you have learned my dangers, favor me with your advice and prayers.”7 In another place he says, “They who praise me, truly reproach and confound me.” These and the like sincere protestations were extorted from him by his profound contempt of himself, and desire that all should know his baseness. For, as he observes, nothing is more base than that refined pride which feigns an affected humility, and would needs wear its mask to make humility itself support its vanity. To raise glory from humility is not the mark, but the ruin of that virtue. “He who is truly humble would be reputed vile and abject,” says he, “not humble.” He never ceased to inculcate this virtue to others as the measure of their advancement in sanctity; and he often repeated to his monks that he among them was the greatest before God who was the most humble in his own eyes.

It is related in the Exordium of Citeaux, that one day in a conference which the saint made to the choir monks, he declared publicly that he doubted not but the humility of a certain lay-brother, then absent, gave to his actions a higher degree of true perfection than any one of the choir monks had attained to, and that this person, though perfectly ignorant of profane literature, was the best skilled in the science of the saints, the true knowledge of himself. For he was always condemning himself as a miserable criminal in the presence of God; and his soul was so entirely employed on his own weaknesses and imperfections, that he saw nothing else in himself, and only virtue in every one else. St. Bernard one day seeing him bathed in tears, asked him the reason. The humble monk told him, “Miserable sinner as I am, I see all heroic virtues practised by my brother who works with me; but have not myself one degree of the least among them. I beseech you to pray that God will grant me in his mercy those virtues which through my sinfulness and sloth I neglect to dispose myself to obtain.” Another lay-brother was obliged to watch the sheep in the fields all night on the feast of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin, to which he had a singular devotion. When the bell rang to matins at midnight, condemning himself as unworthy to join his brethren in singing the divine praises, he turned his face towards the church, and lifting up his eyes towards heaven, with a thousand genuflexions and prostrations, continued till morning a repetition of the Hail Mary; every time with fresh ardor praising his Redeemer, and imploring his mercy through the intercession of his virgin Mother. His humble devotion, simplicity, and obedience, were discovered by God to St. Bernard, who preferred his virtue in this action to that of the most perfect penitents and contemplatives in that house of saints.8 True humility removes a soul as far from pusillanimity and abjection as from pride and presumption; for it teaches a man to place his whole strength in God alone. Hence sprang that greatness of soul and undaunted courage, with a firm confidence in the divine goodness and mercy, that astonishes us in the actions and writings of this saint. It would be too long to mention the wonderful instances of these and other virtues, especially of his devotion, tender charity, and ardent zeal. He nourished them in his heart by a spirit of prayer and retirement, the characteristical virtue of the monastic state. “Believe me upon my own experience,” said he to those whom he invited into his Order, “you will find more in the woods than in books; the forests and rocks will teach you what you cannot learn of the greatest masters.” Meaning that to learn the secrets of heaven, and the science of saints, solitude, sanctified by penance and contemplation, is the best school. He severely condemns those monks who wandered out of their cells; and, out of a love of the world and dissipation, intruded themselves into the ministry of preaching. To one of those he said, “It is the duty of a religious man to weep, not to teach. Cities must be to him as prisons, and solitude his paradise. But this man, on the contrary, finds solitude his prison, and cities his paradise.”9 This saint, though charity often called him abroad, never left his cell but with regret; and, amidst crowds, his soul was interiorly recollected, and often quite absorbed in God. When he had walked a whole day on the borders of the lake of Lausanne, hearing his companions in the evening mention the lake, he was surprised, affirming that he had never seen it, and did not know that there was a lake there. The saint, who had contracted so close a friendship with Guigo, prior of the great Chartreuse, and the monks of his Order, that he seemed to be with them as one heart and one soul, happened once to pay them a visit at the Chartreuse on a horse which he had borrowed of a friend. The prior Guigo was surprised to see him use a fine bridle, and spoke to him of it. The saint answered in surprise, that he had never taken notice either of the bridle or saddle. So much was he accustomed by habit, when he was free from the necessity of applying his mind to external business, to immerse himself in the consideration of invisible truths, that he seemed at those times scarce to have any sense or memory left for earthly things.* St. Bernard was particularly devoted to the Blessed Virgin, as his works sufficiently declare. In one of his missions into Germany, being in the great church at Spire, he repeated thrice in a capture, “O merciful! O pious! O gracious Virgin Mary!” which words the Church added to the anthem Salve Regina. The custom was introduced from this devotion of St. Bernard to sing that anthem every day with great solemnity in the cathedral of Spire. The same is done every Saturday in the Cistercian Order, and with particular devotion at La Trappe.

Notwithstanding St. Bernard’s love of retirement, obedience, and zeal for the divine honor frequently drew him from his beloved cell; and so great was the reputation of his learning and piety, that all potentates desired to have their differences determined by him; bishops regarded his decisions as oracles or indispensable laws, and referred to him the most important affairs of their churches. The popes looked upon his advice as the greatest support of the holy see, and all people had a very profound respect, and an extraordinary veneration for his person and sanctity. It may be said of him, that even in his solitude he governed all the churches of the West. But he knew how to join the love of silence and interior recollection of soul with so many occupations and employs, and a profound humility with so great elevation. The first occasion which called for his zeal abroad was a dissension between the archbishop and citizens of Rheims, whom the saint reconciled, confirming his words by the miraculous cure of a boy that was deaf, blind, and dumb, which he performed in that city, as is recorded by the abbot of St. Thierri. He opposed the elections of unworthy persons to the episcopacy, or other ecclesiastical dignities, with the zeal of an Elias, which raised him many enemies, who spared neither slanders nor invectives against him. Their common-place topic was, that a monk ought to confine himself to his cloister. To this he answered, that a monk was a soldier of Christ, as well as other Christians, and ought to defend the truth and the honor of God’s sanctuary. By his exhortations Henry archbishop of Sens, and Stephen bishop of Paris, renounced the court and their secular manner of living. Suger, who was chosen abbot of St. Denis in 1122, was made by king Lewis VI. surnamed the Big or the Fat, prime minister, and by Lewis the Young, for some time regent of the kingdom; and the reins of the government of the French monarchy have seldom been put in the hands of an abler or better statesman. Whilst he held this employment he lived in great state, and St. Bernard reproached him, in his Apology, with having fifty attendants in his train. But so efficacious were the discourses with which our saint entertained him on the obligations of his state, that he laid aside his worldly views, resigned all his posts, and shut himself up in his abbey of St. Denis, where he banished the court out of his abbey, re-established austerity and regular discipline, and made an edifying end in 1152, after having built, in three years and three months, the stately church of that abbey as it now stands.* The remarkable conversions of innumerable great princes and prelates wrought by St. Bernard, are too long to be inserted. He often put ecclesiastics in mind of their strict obligation of giving whatever they enjoyed of Church revenues above a necessary maintenance to the poor. Thus he wrote to the dean of Languedoc,10 “You may imagine that what belongs to the church, belongs to you while you officiate there. But you are mistaken: for though it be reasonable that one who serves the altar should live by the altar, yet must it not be to promote either his luxury or his pride. Whatever goes beyond bare nourishment, and simple plain clothing, is sacrilege and rapine.” In this, his own conduct was at all times a true model. In a great famine in 1125, to relieve the poor, he often left his monks destitute of all provisions.

After the death of Honorius II. in 1130, Innocent II. was chosen pope on the same day by the greater number of cardinals. But, at the same time, a faction attempted to invest with that supreme dignity cardinal Peter, the son of Leo, who took the name of Anacletus. He had formerly been a monk of Cluni, was an ambitious worldly man, and so powerful that he got all the strongholds about Rome into his hands. Innocent II., who was a holy man, and had been duly elected, was obliged to fly to Pisa. Upon this unhappy contest a council of French bishops was held at Etampes, twenty-five miles from Paris, to which St. Bernard was invited. He strenuously maintained the justice of Innocent’s cause, who was recognized by the council, and soon after came into France. He was splendidly received at Orleans by king Louis the Big. St. Bernard waited on him, and accompanied him to Chartres, where he met Henry I. king of England. That prince was at first inclined to favor the antipope, but was better informed by St. Bernard, and persuaded to acknowledge Innocent. The saint followed the pope into Germany, and was present at the conference which he had with the emperor Lothaire at Liege, who recognized the lawful pope, but demanded of him the right of giving the investitures of bishoprics. St. Bernard’s remonstrances struck him dumb, and made him humbly alter his resolution. His holiness held a council at Rheims in 1131, and went from Auxerre to visit Cluni and Clairvaux. At this latter place, he was received in procession, as in other places, but without any splendor; the monks were clad in coarse habits, and before them was carried a homely wooden crucifix, and they sang leisurely and modestly hymns and anthems, not once lifting up their eyes or casting them about to see who was near them. The pope, and several of his assistants, could not contain their tears at the sight. The bread which was served at table was made of coarse flour that had never been sifted; the repast was made up of herbs and legumes; a dish of fish was got ready, but this was only for his holiness. The year following, St. Bernard attended the pope into Italy, and reconciled to him Genoa and some other cities. At length he arrived with him at Rome, whence he not long after was sent into Germany, to make peace between the emperor Lothaire II. and the two nephews of Henry V., his predecessor; Conrad III., duke of Suabia (who succeeded Lothaire in the empire), and Frederic, the father to Frederic I. or Barbarossa, who ascended the throne after Conrad. The saint in this journey signalized every stage he made by the conversion of many sinners, and, among others, of Aloide, duchess of Lorraine, sister to the emperor Lothaire, who had for a long time dishonored her rank and religion by her scandalous deportment. St. Bernard having happily pacified the troubles of Germany, returned into Italy, being obliged by the pope to assist at the council of Pisa, in 1134, in which the schismatics were excommunicated. After the conclusion of this synod the pope sent him to Milan, to reconcile that city to the holy see. He wrought there many miracles, and wherever he came was received as a man sent from heaven. He easily induced the Milanese to renounce the schism; and in all places, and in all affairs, succeeded to a miracle. The authors of his life remark, that nothing was more admirable in him than his extraordinary humility amidst the greatest honor and respect maginable, with which he was everywhere treated.11

Having happily finished his negotiation at Milan, he returned to his dear solitude at Clairvaux, in the same year, 1134, and after performing his prayer in the church, made a most pathetic affectionate discourse to his monks. He was soon after called abroad into Brittany; and afterward into Guienne, where William, the powerful and haughty duke of that province, violently persecuted those that adhered to the true pope, and had on that account expellod the bishops of Poitiers and Limoges. Gerard, bishop of Angouleme, an abettor of the schism, encouraged him in these excesses. This William (who is styled duke sometimes of Aquitain, sometimes of Guienne, which was part of Aquitain) was a prince of high birth, immense wealth, a gigantic stature and strength of body, and extraordinary abilities in worldly affairs; but was in his youth impious, haughty, and impatient of the least control. He seemed not to be able to live out of war, and was so snamelessly abandoned to his passions and lusts, as to have kept his brother’s wife three years by main force, glorying in his iniquities like Sodom. St. Bernard, in 1130 took an occasion to visit the monastery of Chatelliers, which he had then lately founded in Poitou, on purpose to have an opportunity of endeavoring to reclaim this prince from his scandalous disorders. The duke listened to him with great respect during seven days, and appeared to be much affected by his discourses on the last things, and on the fear of God. Nevertheless, he was not yet converted. St. Bernard, who had learned never to despair of the most obstinate sinners, redoubled his tears, prayers, and pious endeavors, till he had the comfort to see him begin to open his heart to the divine grace. when he abetted the schism, the saint, by several conferences, brought him over to the obedience of the rightful pope, but could not revail upon him to restore the two bishops whom he had unjustly deprived of their sees. At length he had recourse to more powerful arms. He went to say mass, the duke and other schismatics staying without the door, as being excommunicated persons. After the consecration, and the giving of the peace before the communion, the holy abbot put the host upon the paten, and carrying it out, with his eyes sparkling with zeal, charity, and devotion, and his countenance all on fire, spoke to the duke no longer as a suppliant, but with a voice of authority, as follows: “Hitherto we have entreated you and prayed you, and you have always slighted us. Several servants of God have joined their entreaties with ours, and you have never regarded them. Now, therefore, the Son of the Virgin, the Lord and head of that Church which you persecute, comes in person, to see if you will repent. He is your judge, at whose name every knee bends, both in heaven, earth, and hell. He is the just revenger of your crimes, into whose hands this your obstinate soul will one day fall. Will you despise him? Will you be able to slight him as you have done his servants? Will you?” Here the duke, not being able to hear any more, fell down in a swoon. St. Bernard lifted him up, and bade him salute the bishop of Poitiers, who was present. The astonished prince was not able to speak, but went to the bishop, and led him by the hand to his seat in the church; expressing, by that action, that he renounced the schism, and restored the bishop to his see. After this, the saint returned to the altar and finished the sacrifice. A particular impulse of the Holy Ghost, the great authority of the saint, and the dignity with which this man of miracles was enabled to perform so extraordinary an action, make it an object of our admiration, though not of imitation.

The abbot, leaving the churches of Guienne thus settled in peace, returned to Clairvaux. But the duke, who had been a worldly and tyrannical prince, relapsed into his former habits, and committed new acts of violence. The saint being informed thereof, wrote him a strong remonstrance, which, through the divine grace, made so deep an impression upon his mind, that his conversion was rendered complete. From that time, he honored the bishop of Poitiers so much the more as he had formerly persecuted him; and shortly after, resolving entirely to devote himself to a penitential life, he sent for this prelate, and in his presence made his last will, wherein he declared, that “In honor of our Saviour and all the saints, and being penetrated with sorrow for his innumerable sins, and with the fear of the last judgment; likewise considering that all the goods which we seem to possess, vanish in our hands like smoke, and leave only bitterness, anguish, and pain, he was resolved to forsake all things in order to follow God, and to obtain more perfectly his holy love. He added, that he left his daughters under the protection of the king, and desired that Eleanor, the elder of them, should marry him, if the barons of Aquitain consented, giving to her Aquitain and Poitou, and to his daughter Petronilla his estates in. Burgundy, and to all the monasteries in his dominions one thousand livres of yearly rent to be distributed by his barons.”* After this he put on the habit of a pilgrim, entered upon an austere course of life, and undertook a penitential pilgrimage to Compostella, in which some say he died at Leon in Spain. Others tell us he survived this pilgrimage, and passed some time in a hermitage in a wilderness, before God called him to himself.† Thus by the prudence and zeal of St. Bernard was the schism extinguished in so many kingdoms; but it was still protected by Roger, king of Sicily, and duke of Calabria. The pope called the saint to Viterbo, in 1137, and thence sent him to this prince. Bernard, in a public conference at Salerno, convicted Anaclet’s partisans of schism, and brought over many persons of distinction to the union of the Church; but Roger, having ambitious views to maintain the usurped possession of the duchy of Benevento, continued inflexible. The saint foretold his defeat in a battle he was preparing to fight with duke Ranulph, whose forces were much inferior in number; and, taking leave of him, hastened back to Clairvaux. The death of the antipope in 1138, opened the way to the peace of the Church; for, though the schismatics chose one Gregory to the papacy, he surrendered his pretensions to Innocent II. Hereupon Bernard sued to the pope for the pardon of those who had been engaged in the schism.

The saint saw himself obliged to exert his zeal also in maintaining the purity of the Catholic faith, which he employed so often and with such success in the support of its unity and discipline. He heard of no dangerous innovator in the doctrine of the Church with whom he did not enter the lists. One of these was the unhappy Peter Abelard, or Abailard,‡ in whose writings certain errors were discovered, which were condemned in the council of Soissons in 1121; and he so far acquieseed in the censure as to cast his book into the flames. In 1139, William, abbot of St. Thierry, discovered several erroneous principles in his later writings, and informed Geofrey, bishop of Chartres, who was legate of the holy see, and St. Bernard, saying, they were the only persons who could crush the mischief in its embryo. Saint Bernard wrote a strong letter of private admonition to Abelard, but was answered by insults and loud complaints. He informed pope Innocent II. of Abelard’s errors and conduct by a long letter, and also wrote to several French prelates upon that subject. A council of bishops met at Sens in 1140 upon this affair. St. Bernard was unwilling to appear, acquainting the bishops it was their business. Hereupon Abelard triumphed, and his friends said, Bernard was afraid to encounter him face to face. The saint therefore was obliged to be present. But Abelard, who dreaded above all things the eloquence and learning of the holy abbot, only presented himself in the council, to hear the charge drawn up by St. Bernard out of his own book read against him; for he declined giving any express answer to the articles charged upon him, though he had the liberty given him to do it, had very favorable judges, and was in a place where he had no reason to fear anything. After having recourse to shifts, he appealed to the pope, and then withdrew from the synod with those of his party. The bishops condemned fourteen propositions extracted out of his works, and wrote to pope Innocent II. who confirmed their sentence, imposed perpetual silence on Abelard as an heretic, and ordered that he should be imprisoned. Abelard wrote an apology, in which he gave a Catholic exposition to several of his propositions. St. Bernard accused him of denying the Trinity with Arius, of destroying the incarnation with Nestorius, of taking away the necessity of grace with Pelagius, of having bragged that he was ignorant of nothing; of being never willing to say of anything, Nescio, I do not know it; of pretending to expound inexplicable things, to comprehend incomprehensible mysteries, and to give reasons for what is above reason. It is manifest from his apology, and chiefly from his book, entitled, An Introduction to Theology, which had raised this storm, that he advanced several propositions absolutely heretical, others, which, though he expounded them more favorably, were new, harsh, and intolerable. One of the errors contained at this day in his writings is the system of the Optimists, renewed by Leibnitz, pretending that everything in the world being the best, God could not have made or done anything any other way than he has done it. After he had published his Apology, he set out on his journey towards Rome; but stopping at Cluni, he was persuaded by the abbot, Peter the Venerable, to recall whatever he had written which gave offence, and to wait upon St. Bernard. He did so, and was reconciled to him. With the pope’s leave he resolved to spend the remainder of his life at Cluni, and behaved himself there with great humility and piety for two years. Towards the end of his life he was sent for his health to the monastery of St. Marcellus at Challons upon the Seine, where he died in 1142, being sixty-three years old. His body was sent to the abbey of Paraclet, to be interred, and Peter the venerable wrote to Eloïsa an edifying account of his death.

Arnold of Brescia, his disciple, was not so happy as to imitate his repentance and submission. He was a native of Brescia, in Italy, became a scholar of Abelard, took the habit of a monk, and falling into many errors, preached them at the head of armed troops, first in France, and afterward in Italy. He taught, that neither the pope nor the clergy ought to possess temporal estates; and erred about several other articles of faith. St. Bernard by his writings and labors, opposed the ravages of this wolf in sheep’s clothing. St. Bernard drew his portrait in lively colors, when among other things, he says, “Arnold of Brescia is a man who neither eats nor drinks, because, like the devil, he thirsts only after the blood of souls. His conversation has nothing but sweetness, and his doctrine nothing but poison. He has the head of a dove, but the tail of a scorpion.” His description of Abelard is not less strong. He says he was a man always unlike himself, altogether equivocal and unconstant; that he had nothing of a monk but the name and habit, and that his life was the contrast of his character or profession. He adds, to express his vanity, that he knew everything that is in heaven and earth, but himself. Another person of eminence in that age, by deviating from the scripture and tradition to philosophize on the mysteries of religion, adulterated their simplicity. This was Gilbert de la Porree, a famous professor of theology at Poitiers, and at length bishop of that city. He was accused of heterodox opinions by his two arehdeacons. His doctrine was begun to be examined in an assembly of prelates at Auxerre in 1147, and continued in another held at Paris the same year, before pope Eugenius III. who was lately come into France. St. Bernard, on account of his eloquence and learning, was pitched upon to open the charge; but as Gilbert denied that he had ever advanced the propositions imputed to him, it was decreed that his writings should be examined, and the decision referred to the council which was to be held at Rheims the year following. In this synod Gilbert openly maintained what he had taught in his writings, that the godhead, or form by which God is God, is really distinguished from God; likewise that his wisdom, justice, and other attributes, are not really God himself; that the divine nature or essence is really distinct from the three persons, and that the divine nature was not incarnate, but only the second Person, which he held to be really distinct from the nature. St. Bernard demonstrated that no real distinction can be admitted between the nature and the persons, or between the attributes and the nature, or between the attributes themselves; for in God all is perfect unity and simplicity, without any real distinction, except that of relation between the three Persons; any other real multiplicity must produce a composition repugnant to the essential simplicity and unity of God. Four propositions of Gilbert were censured by this council, and he himself retraced and condemned them. On this account his person was spared. Some of his disciples continued to maintain his erroneous opinions, and are confuted by St. Bernard.12 Gilbert died in 1154.*

The heresies broached by Abelard, Gilbert, and many others, at this time, took their rise from an abuse of the scholastic, theology, as Abelard himself acknowledged after his conversation,13 making a long enumeration of errors which sprang up in his time. The holy scriptures and the tradition of the Church being the sources and foundation of all genuine theology, St. Anselm raised on them his excellent structure, by bringing the different parts more into order, under general heads, and illustrating each part with the additional force of logical reasoning. This method was followed by all sound scholastics, especially St. Thomas, whose divine science was derived from his perfect skill in the holy scriptures, and in the writings of the most approved fathers; taking St. Austin for his chief guide in questions of speculation, St. Ambrose and St. Gregory in moral resolutions, and St. Chrysostom in the interpretation of the holy scriptures; he employs human reasoning with the most happy penetration, but so as to make it everywhere subservient to these principles; but these were quite lost sight of by some who, in the shoal of philosophers and theologians which appeared in the twelfth age, pursued, in many questions, only the subtle imaginations of their own refining genius: a rock against which many great men have suffered shipwreck in faith.* St. Bernard opposed his fatal abuse with that erudition and eloquence of which his works are a standing monument. The Cistercian Order, in its origin, like the Carthusians, was devoted to the practice of penance, assiduous contemplation, and the angelical function of singing the divine praises. Wherefore it did not admit the ordinary dissipation of scholastic disputations. Yet we find a foundation made for teaching little children in a monastery of this Order in the diocess of Bazas, 1128.14 And learned men were everywhere received into it, and allowed all means of improving themselves in the sciences, and of thus serving the Church. The first founders, SS. Alberic, Stephen, and Bernard, were persons eminently learned. Conrad, son of Henry, duke of Bavaria, was famous for his learning at Cologn, before he professed himself a monk at Clairvaux, in 1126. Henry, a son of king Lewis the Big, who was a monk under St. Bernard, and afterward successively bishop of Beauvais, and archbishop of Rheims, was a good scholar; and many among the most eminent doctors in the Church embraced this institute. The revision of the bible, made by St. Stephen and his brethren, proves that some of them then understood the Oriental languages. To encourage learning, St. Bernard was very solicitous to furnish all his monasteries with good libraries.15 The manual labor in which the Cistercian and Benedictin monks at that time employed themselves, was not only to till the ground, but frequently to copy books; several beautifully illumined, which were written at Clairvaux, in St. Bernard’s time, are still shown there.1

The great reputation of the sanctity of St. Bernard and his monks drew many great men to his Order. The monastery of Clairvaux, which is at present a most stately and spacious structure, was in his time a low and mean building; yet he left in it at his death seven hundred monks. He founded, before his death, one hundred and sixty other monasteries; and their number was so much increased after his death, that before the dissolution of monasteries in Britain and the northern kingdoms, eight hundred abbeys were subject to Clairvaux, being filiations of that house. In 1126, Otho, the son of Leopold, duke of Austria, and of Agnes, daughter to the emperor Henry IV. brother to the emperor Conrad III., with fifteen other young German princes, one of whom was Henry, earl of Carinthia, made their monastic profession together atMorimond; in 1115 thirty gentlemen had done the same on one day at Citeaux; a company of young noblemen did the like at Bonnevaux; once at Clairvaux one hundred novices took the habit on the same day. The Cistercian annals, and Le Nain, mention two persons of quality who professed themselves lay-brothers in this Order, the one to be shepherd of the monastery, the other whose name was Lifard, to keep the hogs. In 1120, Alexander, a prince of the royal blood of Scotland, and in 1172, Silo, a learned and famous professor at Paris, and Alan, another professor in the same place, so renowned for his skill in theology, and all other sciences, that he was surnamed the Universal Doctor, humbly made their profession among the Cistercians in the quality of lay-brothers.

Evrard, earl of Mons, was so touched with compunction for a sin he had committed in war in Brabant, that in his return homewards from that expedition, having disguised himself in mean apparel, he set out at midnight, and, unknown to any one, performed a penitential pilgrimage to Rome and Compostella. After his return he hired himself, in the same spirit of penance, to keep swine under the lay-brothers in a farm belonging to the abbey of Morimond. Some years after, a servant of two officers who in the army had been under his command, coming to this farm to inquire the road, knew him by his voice and features, and in surprise went and told his masters that their lord was there, and keeper of the hogs. They rode up to the place, and though he at first strove to disguise himself, they knew him; and dismounting, embraced him with tears of joy, and all possible tokens of respect. When they had informed the abbot, he came down to the farm, and learned the truth from the holy penitent’s own mouth, who confessed to him his sin with a flood of tears. The abbot persuaded him to take the religious habit, and to complete the sacrifice of his penance in the monastery. Evrard received the advice with great humility and joy, and acknowledging himself most unworthy, made his monastic profession. About the same time, he founded the abbey of Einberg in Germany, and that of Mount Saint George in Thuringia. This happened in 1142. His holy death is recorded in the Necrology of the Cistercians on the 20th of March. The lay-brothers were at that time very numerous in this Order; St. Bernard had a particular affection for them, and it seemed his greatest pleasure to instruct them in the interior paths of perfect virtue. It is recorded of one of them at Clairvaux, that he had so perfectly subdued the passion of anger, as always to feel in his heart, instead of any motion of impatience, a particular affection, and sensible tenderness for any one from whom he received an injury. It was his constant custom to say an Our Father for every one that did him any wrong, spoke harshly to him, or accused him of any fault in chapter; which practice has from him passed into a rule in this Order. A certain monk, named Nicholas, whom St. Bernard had converted from a secular life in the world was much afflicted that he lived in the company of saints without the spirit of compunction. St. Bernard comforted him, and by his prayers obtained for him that gift in so eminent a degree, that even when he ate, travelled, o conversed with others, tears trickled down his cheeks.

Our saint had, at Clairvaux, a monk whose name was Bernard, and who took his surname from Pisa in Italy, of which city he was a native. He was a person of learning and abilities, and had made such progress in monastic perfection, that when pope Innocent II. repaired, and gave to St. Bernard, the monastery of the Three Fountains, commonly called of SS. Vincent and Anastasius, near Rome, the saint appointed him first abbot of the colony which he planted there. Innocent II. died in 1143; his successor, Celestine II., lived in the pontificate only five months and some days, and Lucius II. who followed him, died about the end of his first year, on the 26th of February, 1145. The abbot Bernard of Pisa was chosen in his place, and took the name of Eugenius III. St. Bernard was struck with surprise at the news, and wrote to the cardinals, conjuring them to assist him with their best advice. Fearing lest so great an exaltation should make him forget himself, and some of the high obligations of his charge, he wrote to him five books, Of Consideration, pressing upon him, without flattery, the various duties of his station, and strongly recommending to him always to reserve time for self-examination and daily contemplation, applying himself still to this more than to business. He proves to him, that consideration serves to form and to employ in the heart all virtues. He puts the pope in mind, that he is in the utmost danger of falling, by the multiplicity of affairs, into a forgetfulness of himself, and hardness of heart; the thought of which danger made the saint tremble for him, and tell him that his heart was already hardened, and made insensible, if he did not continually tremble for himself. Most succeeding popes have highly esteemed, and been accustomed often to read this excellent work.

King Lewis the Big died in 1137, leaving five sons besides Lewis his successor; namely Henry, a monk of Clairvaux, who died archbishop of Rheims; Robert, count of Dreux, head of that royal branch, long since extinct; Peter, lord of Courtenay, of which territory he married the heiress, from whom is descended the present family of Courtenays in France; Philip, archdeacon of Paris (who being chosen bishop, modestly yielded that dignity to Peter Lombard), and Hugh, of whom we have no particular account. The father, after the death of his eldest son Philip, had caused Lewis to be crowned in his own life-time; who thereupon, for distinction, was called Lewis the Young, which surname he retained even after his father’s death. The Christians in Palestine were at that time much distressed. The Latins had, by the first crusade, erected there four principalities,* namely, that of Edessa, which comprehended a large country that lay upon the Euphrates; those of Tripoly and Antioch, which were expended all along the sea of Phœnicia; and lastly the kingdom of Jerusalem, which, by the death of Fulk, in 1142 was devolved on his son Baldwin III., only thirteen years of age. The Saracen caliphs at Bagdat having lately lost their empire, reserved only a sacred authority as interpreters of the Mahometan law; for the Salsuccian Turks, who embraced their religion, obtained the sovereignty first in Persia, and soon after in Asia Minor, and in Syria. In this last country, Melech and Ducat were the first Turkish sultans at Aleppo. Their successor Sanguin was a famous general, and at his death, left his warlike son Noradin possessed of that dignity, a prince endowed with all the qualities of a conqueror. He took Edessa, and threatened the other three principalities of the Christians, who were in no condition to defend themselves, and therefore sent ambassadors into Europe, to desire immediate succor from the Christian princes. Lewis VII. or the Young received the message favorably. Pope Eugenius III., coming into France in 1147, held there several councils to promote a second crusade, and, at the king’s request, commissioned St. Bernard to preach the holy war. This the abbot executed with incredible success in all the chief provinces of France. He afterward did the same in the principal cities of Germany.

The authority of his sanctity and prudence was not less established in the empire than in Italy and France. When Lothaire II., duke of Saxony, was chosen emperor upon the demise of Henry V., in 1125, the two nephews of the late emperor (Conrad, duke of Franconia, and Frederick, duke of Suabia) raised a dangerous rebellion; but St. Bernard prevailed with them to lay down their arms, and reconciled them to Lothaire, who ruled with great piety and tranquillity, treating even those that had been his enemies with mildness and generosity, and protecting the holy see. He exceedingly honored St. Bernard, and died, without leaving any male issue, in 1138. Conrad III. succeeded him in the imperial dignity. He, on this occasion, received St. Bernard with honor, took the cross from his hands at Spire, accompanied him through several cities, and the same year set out for the Levant, at the head of an army of sixty thousand horse and almost as many foot, the bravest that had been seen. King Lewis took the cross in an assembly of the princes and prelates of his realm at Vezelay, in Burgundy, appointed his prime minister, abbot Suger, regent of France during his absence, and followed the emperor into the East. Manuel Comnenus was at that time emperor of Constantinople, the son of John, and grandson of that Alexis who had used the first crusards so ill. Manuel had some good qualities, but his policy degenerated into trick and treachery. Though Conrad was his brother-in-law, he received him at Constantinople with great coldness. The Germans crossed the straits, and marched through Bithynia towards Lycaonia. Lewis passed the Rhine at Worms, and the Danube at Ratisbon, and marching through Hungary arrived at Constantinople in October, two months after the Germans. Conrad, deceived by guides whom the Greeks had given him, engaged his army in the deserts on the borders of Cappadocia, where his cavalry could not act. In this place the Mahometans surrounded his troops in the month of November, 1147, and cut them to pieces, where not a tenth part of them were able to engage. Conrad, after paying a private visit of devotion to the holy places at Jerusalem, the year following returned in great affliction to Germany.

Lewis, passing into Asia, took his route by the sea-side through Smyrna and Ephesus, and advancing towards Laodicea, in Lydia, in the beginning of the year 1148, encamped on the banks of the Meander, a river difficult to pass on account of its depth, and the height of its banks. He crossed it, however, with some loss; but beyond Laodicea, by the ill conduct of him who commanded the van, which he had separated too far from the rest of the army, his rear was cut to pieces. The king escaped with great difficulty. Pushing forwards, he left behind him a great part of his forces at Attalia, a seaport of Pamphilia, where they mouldered away in great want of provisions, through the treachery of the Greeks. The king himself went thence by sea into the principality of Antioch, and arrived in the port of St. Simeon in the mouth of the Orontes, five leagues below that capital. Raymund, prince of Antioch, the queen’s uncle, received him with all due honors. The scandalous amours of his queen Eleanor, at Antioch, gave him great vexation. However, he laid siege to Damascus; but, through the jealousy of some Christian lords, this enterprise did not succeed. Wherefore the king, having performed his devotions at Jerusalem, returned by sea into Europe. He landed in Calabria in Italy, and passing through Rome arrived in France. He found his kingdom in the utmost tranquillity through the wise conduct and steady management of abbot Suger, who was honored with the title of Father of his country, and had the chief share in the administration both in this and the preceding reign. This wise statesman had advised the king against the expedition; but when it was resolved upon, had most liberally concurred to promote it. The ill success of this crusade is chiefly aseribed by all our historians to the treachery of the Greeks; but the finger of God was visible in chastising the sins of the Christians. A great part even of those who composed the crusade were led by no other motive than the prospect of plunder, were lawless, and committed every kind of disorder in their march. To those who were conducted by motives of sincere penance and religion, these afflictions were trials for the exercise of their virtue. This unfortunate expedition raised a great storm against St. Bernard, because he had seemed to promise success. His answer was, that he confided in the divine mercy for a blessing on an enterprise undertaken for the honor of his divine name; but that the sins of the army were the cause of their misfortunes.17 The zeal of our saint was at the same time employed in the conversion of notorious sinners and heretics.

Henry, an apostate monk, a disciple of Peter Bruis, had spread, in Aquitain and in the diocess of Mans, the same errors which his master and others bad propagated in Provence and Languedoc, deceiving and ingratiating themselves with the people by violent invectives against the pope, bishops, and clergy, which is usually the first step towards defection from the Church. Cardinal Alberic, bishop of Ostia, was sent by the pope, in 1147, legate into Languedoc and Aquitain, to endeavor to apply some remedy to this evil. The legate took St. Bernard with him in this mission, and the saint, not only by the reputation of his sanctity, and the force and eloquence of his zealous discourses, but also by many evident miracles, animated the faithful, and brought back to the truth many that were seduced. Geoffrey, some time the saint’s secretary, accompanied him at that time, and relates many miracles to which he was an eye-witness.18 He tells us, that at Sarlat, a town in Perigord the man of God, blessing with the sign of the cross some loaves of bread which were brought to him for that purpose, said, “By this shall you know the truth of our doctrine, and the falsehood of that which is taught by the heretics, if such as are sick among you recover their health by tasting these loaves.” Geoffrey, bishop of Chartres, who stood near the saint, being fearful for the event, said, “That is, if they taste with a right faith, they shall be cured.” But the holy abbot replied, “I say not so; but assuredly they that taste shall be cured, that you may know by this that we are sent by authority derived from God, and preach his truth.” Accordingly a great multitude of sick persons were cured by tasting that bread. The same author assures us, that when the saint lodged at St. Saturninus’s, a house of regular canons at Toulouse, one of the canons lay at the point of death, quite emaciated, and so weak that he could not rise from his bed even on the most necessary occasions; but that by a visit and prayer of the saint, he was restored to perfect health. “That instant,” says our author, “he rose from his bed, and following after, overtook us, and kissed the blessed man’s feet with that eager devotion which is not to be imagined but by those who saw it.” The bishop of the place, the legate, and the people went to the church, the man who had been sick leading the way, and gave thanks to God for this blessing. This canon became a monk of Clairvaoz, and was abbot of Valdeau when this account was written. Many other like miracles were wrought by the man of God at Meaux, Constance, Basil, Spire, Frankfort, Cologn, Liege, and other places where he preached, as the same author relates;19 some in presence of the emperor Conrad and his court at Spire, all publicly, persons of the first rank in the Church and State looking on, and confessing, with astonishment, that the hand of God was with his servant.

Fleury has inserted in his history a journal of this saint’s miracles, attested by ten venerable and faithful vouchers20, and Mabillon has proved their incontestible authenticity.21 But we may regard his admirable sanctity as the greatest of his miracles. This, diffusing its bright beams on every side, was a light not only to his own disciples, but to the whole Church. In 1151 Gumard, king of Sardinia, made a visit to Clairvaux, and was so edified with what he saw practised there, that he returned the year following, and made his religious profession in that house. In 1148 pope Eugenius III. visited the saint at Clairvaux, and afterward assisted at the general chapter of that order held at Citeaux, in which the whole Order of Savigni, consisting of thirty monasteries, passing into that of Citeax, out of respect to St. Bernard, became a filiation of Clairvaux. The saint had founded a monastery for nuns of his Order at Billette or Julli, in the diocess of Langres, in 1113. His sister St. Humbeline embraced this institute in 1124, and by the abundance of graces that heaven bestowed on her, she arrived at so high a degree of sanctity as to be the admiration of all who saw her, and a subject of the greatest joy to her holy brother and director. She often watched almost the whole night in reciting psalms, and meditating on the sacred passion of Christ, taking only a little rest on some boards. She was always one of the first at every duty of the community, and acquitted herself in a manner that edified the most fervent, and inflamed those that were lukewarm. Thus she lived seventeen years; in her last sickness she was visited by St. Bernard, and amidst his prayers and exhortations, in sentiments of holy joy and humble confidence in the divine mercy, she breathed out her holy soul on the 21st of August, 1141. Her name is commemorated among the saints.

In the beginning of the year 1153 St. Bernard fell into a decay, with a loss of appetite and frequent fainting fits. He had long dwelt in heaven in desire, sighing continually under the weight of his banishment from God; though this desire he by humility ascribed to pusillanimity, not to charity. “The saints,” said he, “were moved to pray for the corporal dissolution out of a desire of seeing Christ; but I am forced hence by scandals and evils. I confess myself overcome by the violence of storms, and through want of courage.”22 Such desires arising from pusillanimity would be a criminal impatience; but the vehemence of divine love was the spring of these ardent sighs in our saint, as he pathetically discovers in many other passages.23 His distemper considerably abating, he ascribed this symptom of recovery to the prayers of his spiritual children, with whom he expostulated as follows. “Why do you detain a wretched sinner here below? your prayers have prevailed over my wishes; but have compassion on me, suffer me to go to God.” However, he clearly foretold them, that this delay would not exceed six months. During this interval the inhabitants of Metz having been attacked and defeated with great slaughter, by certain neighboring princes, they were vehemently bent on revenge. To prevent the shedding of blood, the archbishop of Triers went to Clairvaux, and fell at the saint’s feet, earnestly entreating him to undertake a journey to Metz, in order to reconcile the parties that were at variance. At this call of charity the servant of God forgot his corporal infirmity, and immediately repairing thither, prevailed on both sides to lay aside their resentment, and overcome their former enmity by mutual benefactions, and tokens of sincere charity and kindness. When he was come back to Clairvaux his distemper returned with more grievous symptoms. With regard to physicians he doubtless observed his own rule,* not neglecting ordinary helps and medicines, yet rejecting those that are extraordinary, and the instruments of delicacy, not of real service; but his disease was too strong for nature to resist with all the succors which art could bring to its relief. His stomach was so weak as to be scarce able to bear the least nourishment taken even in liquids, his legs swelled exceedingly as if he had a dropsy, and he was hardly able so much as to close his eyes for ever so few moments. Seeing his spiritual children assembled about him all in tears, he comforted and encouraged them, saying, that the unprofitable and unfruitful servant ought not to occupy a place in vain, and that the barren tree with good reason ought to be plucked up. His charity for them inclined him to be willing to remain with them till they should be gathered with him to God; but his earnest desire speedily to enjoy Christ made him to sigh ardently after the possession of Him who filled the whole capacity of his heart. Commending therefore his brethren to the divine mercy, he, with inflamed sighs of compunction and holy love, prepared himself for his last moment; in which he happily yielded up his soul to God, on the 20th of August, 1153, the sixty-third of his age, having been abbot thirty-eight years. He was buried before our Lady’s altar at Clairvaux. His name was solemnly enrolled among the saints by Alexander III. in 1165. M. Villefore has prefixed to the life of St. Bernard his portrait, engraved fron. an old picture drawn from the life when the saint was sixty-two years old.

This holy doctor was during his life the oracle of the Church, the light of prelates, and the reformer of discipline; since his death he still continues to comfort and instruct devout persons by his most pious and learned writings. The judicious critic of Henry Valois sticks not to say they are the most useful for piety among all the works of the fathers of the Church, though he is the youngest of them in time. To pass over the eulogiums which pious writers have bestowed on him, and to appeal to the judgment which the merit of his works hath extorted from the most severe and dry critics, Sixtus Senensis saith of him, “His discourse is everywhere sweet and ardent; it so delighteth and fervently inflameth, that from his most sweet tongue honey and milk seem to flow in his words, and out of his most ardent breast, a fire of burning affections breaks forth.” Erasmus gives him this character, “Bernard is cheerful, pleasant, and vehement in moving the passions.” And in another place, “He is christianly learned, holily eloquent, and devoutly cheerful and pleasing.”* The Protestants who oppose his doctrine, admire his piety and learning. Bishop Morton says of him, “In the midst of darkness, Bernard shone forth with the light as well of his example as of his learning.” And bishop Carleton writes, amidst many invectives: “I would to God we had at this day many, nay, but one such as it is certain and manifest Bernard was.”

The eminent sanctity and sublime gift of contemplation which we admire in the saint, had their foundation in his profound humility. We shall be so far disciples of Christ as we shall imitate his servant in the study of this virtue. It is a lesson which St. Bernard often repeats, that it is to be acquired by the knowledge of ourselves and of God, and by frequent humiliations. “Let thy consideration begin from thyself and end in thyself! what, who, and what kind of being thou art,” says this saint.24 He complains that many men know many things; measure the heavens, count the stars, and pretend to dive into mysteries of faith, and secrets of nature; whose science is all folly and empty vanity, because they know not themselves, consequently have not learned the first elements of the science of the saints. Learning, which fills men with presumption and self-conceit, banishes the Holy Ghost with his gifts out of their souls; the most illiterate idiot is more capable of receiving him, and his heavenly wisdom. So long as men see in their own imagination, not themselves, but certain phantoms raised by their own pride, quite different from what they are, so long are they incapable of true piety, of the gift of prayer, and of the true heavenly treasure. A deep sense of our own entire nothingness, weakness, sinfulness, and unworthiness, which makes us empty of ourselves, and ready to give all glory to God alone, is the key to the grace of compunction, contemplation, divine love, and all sincere and Christian virtue. This knowledge of ourselves must be improved and perfected by the study and knowledge of God, his in finite greatness, goodness, mercy, glory, and other perfections, in which we most perfectly see our own nothingness, and learn sincerely to give all glory to God alone, and to place our whole trust in him and in his mercy. As one ray of the sun enlightens the earth much better than all the stars together; so one ray of this heavenly light discovers to us our own imperfections and miseries more clearly than all our study and reflections on ourselves can do. This knowledge of God is chiefly infused into our souls through the channel of contemplation and devout humble prayer, in which, the nearer our hearts approach the throne of God, and the more they see his infinite majesty, the more shall we, with Abraham, Isaias, and Job, drown ourselves in the abyss of our own nothing. Hence we must pray with St. Austin, “Lord, teach me to know thee, and to know myself;” Thee to love and glorify alone in all things; myself, never secretly to confide in, or ascribe any good to. Domine noverim te, noverim me. St. Bernard adds, that besides the foundation of this double knowledge, humility is to be improved by repeated humiliations. “Humiliation,” says he, “is the road to humility, as meekness in suffering tribulations and injuries produces patience. If you do not exercise humiliations, you cannot attain to humility.” Humiliatio via est ad humilitatem. Si non vis humiliari, non poteris ad humilitatem provehi.25

AUGUST 20 — ST. OSWIN, K. M

Ida, descended from Woden, landed with an army of English Saxons, a. Flamborough in Yorkshire in 547, and founded the kingdom of Northumberland, or rather of that part of it called Bernicia, was succeeded by Ethelfrid, whose two sons, and successively heirs, Oswald and Oswi, established the faith of Christ in the northern parts of England. After the death of Ida, his cousin Ælla, a descendant also from Woden, conquered Deira, or the rest of Yorkshire, to which afterward Lancashire was added. His valiant and religious son Edwin embraced the Christian faith in 617, and sealed it with his blood in 633. St. Oswald received the same crown in 642, whose brother Oswi inherited his crown. With his agreement his cousin Oswin, son of Osric, cousin-german to Edwi, having passed ten years in banishment, was called by right of inheritance to take possession of the kingdom of Deira in 642, which he governed seven years with great virtue, prudence and prosperity, beloved by all, and enjoyed plenty and every spiritual and temporal advantage. He was tall of stature, comely in his person, liberal and affable to all, especially to the poor, sober at table, modest and most devout.

For an instance of his humility St. Bede relates, that he had bestowed on the holy bishop Aidan a horse, on which, though he usually made his journeys on foot, he might sometimes ride, and cross rivers. Soon after, the bishop meeting a poor man who asked an alms of him, not having anything else, gave him this horse with all his rich furniture. Next time he waited on the king, before they sat down to table, the king asked him why he had given so fine a horse to a beggar which he intended for his own use: adding, we had horses of less value, or other presents which would have supplied his wants. The bishop answered, “Is then a colt of more value in your majesty’s eye, than a son of God?” When they had entered the dining room, the bishop took his seat, but the king being just come in from hunting, stood by the fire with his servants warming himself. Here calling to mind the bishop’s words, he put off his sword, and going in haste cast himself a the bishop’s feet, begging his pardon for having found fault with his charity, and promising never again to censure whatever of his goods he should give to the poor, how valuable soever. The bishop, struck with such an example of humility, raised him up with confusion, and assured him he was well satisfied, on condition his majesty was cheerful and sat down. The king hereupon expressed great joy at table, but the bishop appeared sorrowful, and said to his attendants in the Scottish language, which the king and his courtiers did not understand, that he was assured so humble and so good a king would not live long.

A quarrel arose betwixt Oswi and Oswin about the boundaries of their dominions, and they raised armies. Oswin seeing his weakness, and being desirous to spare human blood, dismissed his forces at a place called Wilfar’s Dun, or the hill of Wilfare, situated ten miles westward from a town called Cataract. Attended with one faithful soldier named Tonder, he retired to a town called Ingethling, now Gilling, near Richmond in Yorkshire, which estate he had lately bestowed on count Hudwald. He hoped under his protection to lie here concealed, or at least that Oswi would content himself with possessing his kingdom, and would suffer him to live; but Oswi apprehended that so long as a prince so much beloved was alive, his usurpation could not be secured to him. He therefore ordered count Ethelwin with a body of soldiers to march in search of him, and to kill him. Hudwald treacherously betrayed his guest. When Oswin saw the castle surrounded with soldiers he courageously disposed himself for death, only entreating Ethelwin to content himself with his life, and spare that of his faithful servant Tonder. The generous officer seemed unwilling to survive his master, and both were slain together, and buried at Gilling in 651, on the 20th of August. Queen Eanfled, daughter to king Edwin, wife of Oswi, and near relation of Oswin, with her husband’s leave, founded a monastery at Gilling, in which prayers might be ever put up for both kings. It was afterward destroyed by the Danes.1 She appointed Trumhere the first abbot, an Englishman, who had been instructed and ordained by the Scots at Lindisfarne. He was afterward made bishop of South-Mercia, which he converted to the faith in the days of king Wulfere. The body of St. Oswin, whose shrine was made illustrious by many miracles, was some time after translated to the strong fortress of Tinmouth, and laid in a stone coffin, in a secret part of a chapel built under the rock, secured against the approach of any enemy. The country being sometimes under infidel Danish princes, this precious treasure was forgotten till a monk of Tinmouth,* named Edward or Edmund (for these names were the same, and were given promiscuously to this monk), discovered it, admonished it is said in a vision, and informed Egilwin bishop of Durham, in whose presence with the count and people, the sepulchre was dug open, and the sacred remains taken up, cleansed, and wrapped in precious linen and rich cloths, in 1065, on the 11th of March. Tosti earl of Northumberland repaired and endowed more richly this monastery of the blessed Virgin Mary at Tinmouth; he had married Judith, daughter of Baldwin earl of Flanders, who with the bishop’s leave washed with her own hands the hair, still stained with blood, and the bones of the martyr; for only these parts remained entire, the flesh being returned to dust. Robert of Mowbray, a nobleman illustrious by a long line of noble and great ancestors, and by the glory of his own military skill and exploits, was made earl of Northumberland by William the Conqueror. As he resided in the castle of Tinmouth he had a great devotion to St. Oswin, finished the new monastery and church of our Lady, which Tosti had begun, and subjected it to the abbey of St. Alban’s in Hertfordshire. St. Oswin’s remains were at his desire translated into the same out of the old oratory of our Lady, then falling to decay. The translation was performed on the 20th of August, the day of his death, in 1103, by Ranulf, bishop of Durham, attended by Richard abbot of St. Alban’s, Hugh abbot of Salisbury, and many other persons of distinction. See the life of St. Oswin, MSS. in the Cotton Library, Julius A. X. in forty-three leaves, 8vo., on vellum. Also in John of Tinmouth abridged in Capgrave, Leland Collectan. vol. 4, p. 113. Also Bede Hist.1. 3, c, 14, with Smith’s notes. Alford’s Annales Anglo-Saxon, ad an. 651, much more accurate in this account, as usual, than Cressy B. 15, ch. 14, n. 8, 9.

AUGUST 21 — SS. BONOSUS AND MAXIMILIAN, MM

From their genuine Acts in Ruinart. See Tillemont, t. 7; Ceilier, t. 4, p. 552.

A. D. 363.

THE emperor Julian the Apostate commanded the cross and name of Jesus Christ, which Constantine had placed in the Labarum or chief standard of the army, to be struck out, and had the standards reduced to the ancient form used under the pagan emperors, on which the images of false gods were represented. The apostate emperor had created Julian, who was his uncle by the mother’s side, and was an apostate from the Christian faith like himself, count or governor of the East; and he became a more barbarous persecutor of the Christians than his nephew himself. There were in the troops called the Old Herculians, two officers of distinguished virtue and zealous Christians, named Bonosus and Maximilian, who refused to change their standards; for each legion had a Labarum for its principal ensign. Count Julian sternly commanded them to give their troops the new ensigns, and to adore the same gods which he and the emperor worshipped. Bonosus answered, “We cannot adore gods which have been made by the hands of men.” The count ordered him to be tied up, and above three hundred lashes to be given him with leathern thongs, loaded at the ends with balls of lead. Under this torment Bonosus only smiled, and made no answer to his questions. The count afterward caused Maximilian to approach, who said, “Let your gods first hear and speak to you, and then we will adore them; for you know that we Christians are forbidden to worship deaf and dumb idols.” Julian caused them both to be stretched on the rack, and when a crier had called them each by their name, the count said to them, “You now lie on the rack, and are on the point of being tormented. Obey: exchange the representation of the cross on your standard for the images of the immortal gods.” They answered, “We cannot obey the emperor in these matters, because we have before our eyes the invisible immortal God, in whom we place our confidence.” Julian ordered them to be beaten with balls of lead three several times, and said to the executioners, “Exert your utmost strength, give them no respite.” But the martyrs felt not the least pain. Julian then commanded them to be plunged into boiling pitch; by which they receiving no hurt, both Jews and pagans cried out that they were magicians. Count Julian ordered them back to prison, and sent them bread sealed with his own signet, on which was probably engraved the figure of some idol; for they would not eat of it. Prince Hormisdas, brother to Sapor king of Persia (who having left his own country had embraced the faith, and had spent the better part of his days in the courts of Constantine and Constantius), paid them a visit in prison, and finding them in perfect health and very cheerful, recommended himself to their prayers. The count threatened the martyrs in a second and a third interrogatory. But they answered him they were Christians, and were determined to continue such. They added, that Constantine, near the end of his life, had made them take an oath to be faithful to his children and to the Church, a promise they would inviolably observe. The count was for having them tormented; but Secundus, prefect of the East (whom, though a pagan, St. Gregory Nazianzen commends for his probity and mildness,1 and who sat with him on the bench), refused absolutely to hear of it. Whereupon Julian, without more ado, condemned them and several other Christian prisoners to be beheaded. St. Meletius, patriarch of Antioch, and several other bishops, attended them to the place of their martyrdom, which they suffered with incredible joy.

Count Julian was very soon after seized with a terrible disease in his bowels and the adjacent parts of his body, whereby they putrified and bred such an incredible quantity of worms, that it was impossible to destroy them. The physicians tried all sorts of remedies; several rare birds were procured at a great expense, which, being killed, the blood of them was applied to the parts affected, in order to draw out the worms; but they, crawling higher into the bowels, and into the most sensible and tender parts of the body, only rendered his pains the more intolerable, whilst he voided his excrements at his mouth. His wife, who continued a zealous Christian, said to him, “You ought to give thanks to Christ our Saviour, for having by this chastisement made you sensible of his power; you would not have known who he is to whom you have declared yourself an enemy, had he shown his usual forbearance.” Count Julian, in this extremity, repented of his persecutions, bade his wife run to the churches of the Christians, and beg them to pray for him; and he besought the emperor to restore to the Christians their churches; but his entreaties were not regarded. He, however, in his last moments invoked, like Antiochus, the true God, protesting aloud that he had no hope but in his mercy; and in this miserable condition he expired.2 Nor did the emperor himself reign long unpunished.

The death of a sinner is the most dreadful of all evils.3 His mirth and jollities are then all come to their fatal period, and his eyes are taking an everlasting leave of all the fond objects of his passions. This horrible divorce and separation makes him shudder in most bitter anguish and grief,4 whilst he beholds himself violently torn from all he possesses and enjoys, and from his very body. The pagan philosopher considered this only when he defined death the king of terrors, and of all terrible things that which is the most dreadful; but what is more alarming than all this separation is, that all his former notions of things are overturned in this awful moment, and an entire new scene is opened to him. His conscience is a confused chaos, a thousand perplexing thoughts disturb him, and his habits of spiritual sloth grow stronger than ever. He sees that riches and honors, which he so eagerly pursued, were mere illusion; that his pleasures were dreams and shadows, which passed in a moment, but left a cruel sting behind them; the treacherous world forsakes him in the day of his distress; and the prospect of the abyss of eternity into which he is stepping, fills his mind with alarms and dread which no tongue can express. If he dies insensible, his situation is but the more desperate and unhappy. For, alas! in the moment in which the miserable soul leaves the body, no tongue can express her horrible calamity. We ought to invite heaven and earth to weep over her; or rather adore God, who is terrible in his justice, and stop our tears which can no longer avail such a soul. She is from this moment eternally and irretrievably lost. She is abandoned by God and his angels, and given over a prey to merciless devils, who insultingly cry out,—Let men on earth crown the carcass with pomp, epitaphs, monuments, and panegyrics, whilst it is made a feast for worms and maggots; and the soul is our victim, as the body also will one day be. How happy were the martyrs, who, by their torments purchased themselves joy, secure peace, and eternal glory at their death!

AUGUST 21 — ST. JANE FRANCES DE CHANTAL WIDOW AND ABBESS

Her life is written by Dr. Henry de Maupas du Tour, bishop of Puy, in 4to. also in 12mo. by Mrs. Louise de Rabutin, who was married first to Monsieur de Daletz, and after his death to Monsieur de la Rivière. This work has been often by mistake ascribed to her father, Roger de Rabutin, count of Bussy, famous for several juvenile loose productions of false wit, and more deservedly for his edifying repentance, by which he endeavored to repair that scandal, and to live sincerely to God, after he had forsaken the court. See also her life compiled by Morsollier, canon of Usez; and the lives of the first: mother-superiors, and several other nuns of the Visitation, published in four volumes, in 4to. by sister De Chaugy, at Annecy, 1659.

A. D. 1641.

THE father of St. Jane de Chantal was Benignus Fremiot, one of the presidents of the parliament of Burgundy, famous for his loyalty to Henry IV. in opposing the league; also for his great piety, and the modesty with which he refused the dignity of first president, by which he showed himself the more worthy of that honor. By his lady Margaret de Berbisy, he had three children, Margaret, who was afterward married to the count of Effran, Jane, who was born at Dijon on the 23d of January, 1573, and Andrew, who died archbishop of Bourges. The president Fremiot was left a widower by the death of his lady whilst his children were yet in their infancy; but he took such pious and prudent care of their education that no assistance or instructions were wanting for forming them in the most perfect sentiments and practice of every religious duty, and for introducing them into life with advantage. Jane, who at her confirmation was called Frances, profited by them above the rest, and was most tenderly beloved by her father, who gave her in marriage when she was twenty years of age, to the baron de Chantal, chief of the family of Rabutin, then twenty-seven years old, an officer of distinction in the French army, and highly in favor with king Henry IV. The marriage was solemnized at Dijon, and a few days after she went with her husband to his seat at Bourbilly. She found a family, which, by the absence of the master, had not been much accustomed to regularity, which she made it her first care to establish. She was very attentive to see that all of her domestics were every day present at evening prayers; and at mass on Sundays, and great holidays in the parish church, on all other days at home. Regular hours were assigned for meals, and every employment and duty was discharged with great order, she being sensible that this is an in dispensable part of virtue, to which few things are more fatal than the confusion of a disorderly life or family. During the frequent absence of her husband, who was obliged often to attend the court or the army, she scarce ever admitted any company, and never stirred abroad, knowing how much this virtue is both the duty and the delight of a good wife, in order to watch over her servants, children, and domestic concerns, and to shun the snares of dissipation, levity, vanity, love of trifling, and much loss of time, which insensibly sap the very foundations of a virtuous life, and strike at the roots of a Christian spirit. Neither did she indulge herself any time in sloth, or ever find any part of her time a burden, as those ladies so often do, who, living in a perpetual round of empty amusements, are sometimes cloyed with insipid pleasures, sometimes wearied with continual noise and hurry, or ruffled by mortifications and affronts, always sick in solitude, restless and impatient in their pursuits, longing for, and condemning everything in its turn; one hour dissolved in ease or vain joy, another devoured by melancholy; the continual jest of their own foolish pride and caprice, and a prey by fits to every spiritual passion. True virtue is constant, uniform, and always calm, tasting in itself solid joys. A fervent soul which looks upon every moment of time as infinitely precious, embraces and improves it with an eagerness, which never flattens, and inspires vigor even under the severest trials of spiritual dryness. This pious lady employed all her leisure hours either at her work, or in the daily long exercises of prayer and pious reading which she prescribed herself. These devotions she at first much abridged when her husband was at home, at which seasons her house was usually full of company.* But afterward repenting of this loss of time, and always finding the spirit of piety much impaired in her by that dissipation and amusement or play, beyond what necessity might excuse, she resolved, in 1601, no more, upon any such pretence, to curtail her usual exercises; and from that time she so contrived matters as neither to omit any of her devotions, nor to be wanting to any office which charity, courtesy, or other duties of her station in the world required of her. The baron de Chantal was a nobleman of strict honor, and very religious. Nor was anything which the world could afford wanting to this pious couple to complete the happiness of the married state. But God, who would reign alone in the heart of our saint, prepared it for himself by the most sensible sacrifice.

The baron, in complaisance to a friend who was come to see him, went out one day a shooting; and, as he had on a coat which resembled the color of a deer, his friend, mistaking him for one behind the bushes, shot him in the thigh. He survived this accident nine days, during which time he received the holy sacraments in the most edifying sentiments of resignation and piety, and caused his pardon of the person by whom he had been shot to be recorded in the registers of the parish church, strictly forbidding any one to prosecute or bring him into trouble. He expired in the arms of his disconsolate lady, who was left a widow at twenty-eight years of age, with one little son and three daughters; besides which she had buried two children in their infancy. Her grief is not to be expressed; yet she bore it with such an heroic constancy and resignation, that she sometimes said she was surprised to see herself receive so grievous a shock with so great contentedness and equanimity. In her desolate state, offering herself to suffer whatever crosses God should be pleased to lay upon her, she made an entire sacrifice of herself to him with the most perfect resignation, and a vow of perpetual chastity. In the depth of this affliction she found an extraordinary comfort and joy at the thought that she was now at liberty to give herself more perfectly to the divine service; and she repeated to God, Thou hast broken my bonds, and I will sacrifice to thee a victim of praise.1 The more authentically to testify her perfect forgiveness of him who had been the cause of her husband’s death, she studied constantly to do him every good office in her power, and stood godmother to one of his children. According to the rules laid down by St. Paul, St. Ambrose, and other holy fathers, to sanctify the state of her widowhood, she proposed to herself a new plan of life. A considerable part of the nights she spent in tears and prayers. She redoubled her alms, distributed all her rich clothes among the poor, making a vow not to wear any but what were made of linen; she discharged most of her servants, giving all of them honorable recompenses; fasted much, lived retired, and divided all her time between the instruction and care of her children, her prayers, and her work. Such was her fervor, and so ardent her desire of living perfectly to God alone, that she wished she could hide herself in some desert, to be more removed from all worldly hindrances. She declared in confidence, that had not her four little children been a tie upon her, too fast for her conscience to get clear of, she believed she should have fled to the Holy Land, and there ended the remainder of her days: and it was her earnest and continual prayer, with many tears, that God would free her from whatever could hinder her from loving and serving him, and that he would conduct her to a truly holy spiritual guide, by whom she might be instructed in what manner she might in all things best accomplish his adorable will. She then received in her devotions many heavenly favors. One day, while she was earnestly begging our Lord to bring her to a faithful guide who should conduct her to himself, she saw on a sudden a man of the same stature and features with St. Francis of Sales, in a black cassock with a rochet and cap on, just as he was the first time she saw him afterward at Dijon. Another time, being in a little wood, her soul was in a rapture, and she desired to get into a church that was near, but all in vain. Here it was given her to understand that divine love must consume all the rust of self-love in her, and that she should meet with a great many troubles both from within and without. Upon recovering herself, she found her heart in wonderful joy in the Lord, insomuch that to suffer for God seemed to her the food of love on earth, as his enjoyment is in heaven.

When the year of her mourning was expired, her virtuous and tender father Fremiot sent for her to his house at Dijon, where she pursued much the same manner of life, except that she sometimes received visits from certain grave ladies who were of an advanced age. A year after this she was obliged, by the affairs of her family, to go with her children to Montelon, one league from Autun, to live with her father-in-law, the old baron de Chantal, who was then seventy-five years of age. Her patience was there out to a continual severe trial by the perpetual frowardness of the old gentleman, and the imperious carriage of a peevish housekeeper, whose authority was absolute in the family. Jane never let fall the least word of complaint, nor discovered the least sourness in her looks; and her compliance in everything was cheerful and agreeable. But she gave most of her time to prayer, and on Sundays went to Autun which was three little leagues off, to assist at sermons. It happened in the year 1604, that St. Francis of Sales came to preach the Lent at Dijon, upon which occasion the devout widow made a visit to her father Fremiot, that she might have the opportunity of assisting at the sermons of that celebrated preacher, and eminent servant of God. The first time she saw him she was much taken with his saintly deportment, and was persuaded he was the spiritual director she had long begged of God to send her, to conduct her soul in the most perfect paths of his holy love. Before she spoke, the bishop knew her from a former vision, in which God had manifested to him this future vessel of his grace. St. Francis dined frequently at her father the president Fremiot’s house, and, by hearing his familiar discourse, she conceived a great confidence in him, and felt extraordinary sentiments of devotion kindled in her breast. It was her earnest desire that she might be allowed to lay open to him the interior state and disposition of her soul; but she was hindered by a scruple on account of a vow she had made, by the advice of an indiscreet religious man, her director, not to address herself to any other man than to himself for spiritual advice. She, however, took great delight in hearing St. Francis’s discourses. One day the good bishop seeing her dressed better than usual, said to her, “Madam, would not your head-dress have been neat without this lace? and your handkerchief been good enough without fringe?” The devout widow hereupon cut the fringe off upon the spot, and the lace at night. The bishop, who knew that nothing is little that is done with a desire perfectly to please God, was much delighted with her ready obedience.

The perplexities about her indiscreet vow, the resolution of which St. Francis referred to others, being at length removed, she made several confessions to him, and a general one of her whole life. At the same time she suffered severe interior trials by desolation of soul, and alarming anxieties about her conduct, under which she received great light and comfort by the wholesome counsels of St. Francis. By his advice, she so regulated her devotions and other exercises of virtue, as to conform herself in her exterior to the will of others, and to what she owed to the world whilst she lived in the houses of her father and father-in-law. This conduct charmed every one, and made them say, “Madam prays always, yet is never troublesome to anybody.” She rose at five o’clock, always without a fire, and without the attendance of a maid. She made an hour’s meditation; then called up her children, and went with her family to mass. After dinner, she read the holy scripture for half an hour; at evening catechised her children and some others of the village; read again, and said her beads before supper; retired at nine o’clock, said evening prayers with her children and family; after which she continued a long time in prayer alone. In the employments of the day, and even in company, nothing seemed to interrupt the attention of her soul to God. She mortified her taste in whatever she ate, yet without showing it; she wore a hair-cloth, coarse linen, and very plain clothes; visited the poor that were sick in the neighborhood, watched whole nights by the bedside of those that were dying, and among other distressed helpless persons, maintained one that was covered with ulcers, which she used to dress with her own hands. The constant sweetness and mildness of he; temper showed how perfectly she had already mortified her interior, and subdued her passions. This proved her devotion to be solid, and rendered it amiable to men, as it was perfect before God. Saint Francis, whom she visited from time to time at Annecy after his return thither, often admired the entire disengagement of her heart from all earthly things, and the fervor and purity of affection with which she sought in all things the will of God. Every morning she renewed her firm purpose of loving and seeking the holy will of God alone in all her thoughts and actions, desiring always to die to herself and to all creatures, that she might live only to God, and making an oblation of herself to him without reserve. For a token of this total dedication of herself to him, she wrote on her breast near the seat of her heart the holy name of Jesus.

The more her soul strove by self-denial and assiduous prayer to raise itself above the world, and its low concerns, its wings expanded and unfolded themselves, and she discovered new charms, and a greater light in the heavenly truths of religion, which then seemed to have been folded and shut up before. The better to apply herself to these great means of improving her heart in the divine love, she began to entertain thoughts of renouncing the world. When she had disclosed this inclination to St. Francis, he took some time to recommend the matter to God, and at length proposed to her divers religious Orders. Her answer only was, that she desired to embrace whatever state he judged most conducive to the divine honor. He then mentioned his project of forming a new establishment of a congregation of the Visitation of the Virgin Mary. The pious widow embraced the proposal with extreme joy; but the excessive grief of her aged father and father-in-law, the tender age of her children, and the situation of the affairs of her family, raised great obstacles to her design, and gave her much to suffer. No one who lies under any obligations of justice to others, can, without first discharging them, lawfully embrace any state incompatible with them. Such circumstances point out what it is that God requires of a soul, and in what state or means her perfection is to be sought. Some pretended the obligation which Madam de Chantal owed to her children could not be complied with, unless she remained with them in the world. St. Frances evinced, on the contrary, that in a cloister she would be able to watch over their education with no less vigilance, and perhaps even with greater advantage to them, than by continuing always with them; and this, which it was her indispensable duty to provide for, she engaged herself still to do. After many violent struggles, this consideration of prudence being settled, her aged father and father-in-law gave their consent; but this they did with such floods of tears as would have shaken a constancy less heroic than hers. This conflict was a great sacrifice, especially in one of so dutiful and tender a soul; but the love of God, which was her only view in this action, triumphed over the sentiments of nature; and the same motive obliged her friends themselves at length to approve her resolution, though it cost them so dear.

Before she left the world she married her eldest daughter to St. Francis’s eldest nephew, the young Baron de Thorens, which match was esteemed by all her friends very honorable and advantageous. Her two younger daughters she determined to take with her; and the one died in a short time in her arms; the other she afterward married to the Count de Toulonjon, a nobleman of great virtue, prudence, and honor. Her son, the Baron de Chantal, was only fifteen years old, and him she left under the care of her father and of excellent tutors, and showed that his affairs required no longer her presence, except to superintend his education, which she engaged still to do, and promised for that purpose still to visit him, which St. Francis likewise engaged that she should do. Her reasons had perfectly satisfied her father, father-in-law, and uncle the archbishop, who had long opposed her resolution; nevertheless, though they agreed that her design was a call of heaven, and neither against the rules of prudence nor any other duty, yet the tenderness which nature inspired, raised a fresh storm when the time of her parting came. Taking leave of her father-in-law, the old Baron de Chantal, at Montelon, she fell on her knees, begged his pardon if she had ever displeased him in anything, desired his blessing, and recommended her son to him. The old gentleman, who was in his eighty-sixth year, appeared inconsolable, and tenderly embracing her wished her all happiness. The inhabitants of Montelon, especially the poor, who thought that in her they lost their all, expressed their grief by tears and loud lamentations. She made them all a short exhortation and recommended herself to their prayers. Thus she took leave of them, and being accompanied by the Baron of Thorens, his lady, her second daughter, and her son, and others, dined at Autun; but called on the way to engage a good religious man to omit nothing in helping her father-in-law to save his soul; and he kept his word. At Dijon she bid adieu to all her neighbors; then casting herself at the feet of her aged father, she beseeched him to bless her, and to take care of her son, whom she left with him. The president, feeling his heart oppressed with unutterable grief, and bathed in tears, said, “O my God! it is not for me to oppose your designs. It will cost me my life. To you, O Lord, I offer this dear child; receive her, and be you my comfort.” He then gave her his blessing, and lifted her up. Young Chantal, her son, ran to her, clasped her about the neck, and by the most endearing expressions, endeavored to prevail with her to alter her resolution. When he was not able to gain his point, he threw himself across the door. The holy widow stepped over his body, but returned again, shedding some tears. With a serene countenance she again took leave, checking the emotions of nature by reflecting that her resolution having been judged, after the most mature deliberation and advice, to be the call of heaven, it was her duty to follow it, and a happiness and pleasure to make to God an entire sacrifice of all that was most dear. Her journey to Annecy was prosperous; but she conducted the Baron de Thorens and his lady to their seat, saw them settled, then returning to Annecy, laid the foundation of her new institute at Annecy on Trinity Sunday, in 1610, the holy bishop having provided there a convent for that purpose. Two other devout women took the habit with her, and were joined soon after by ten others.

The cardinal of Marquemont, archbishop of Lyons, having persuaded St. Francis to change the plan of this congregation so far as to make it a religious Order, that it might be rendered of a more lasting continuance, the pious widow and her companions made their solemn vows in his hands. The holy founder would have the two sister virtues of humility and meekness to be the basis of this rule. “In the practice of virtues,” said he to our saint and her religious sisters, “let humility be the source of all the rest; let it be without bounds; make it the reigning principle of all your actions. Let an unalterable meekness and sweetness in all events become by habits natural to you.” He gave them excellent instructions on the great duty of prayer, that heavenly exercise being the chief fruit and end of religious retirement. Speaking of the adorable sacrifice of the altar, he said to St. Jane, “The mass is the sun of spiritual exercises, the heart of devotion, the centre of our divine religion. Unite your heart in it with the Church, triumphant and militant, which joins itself here in one body with Christ, its sacred head, through him to draw down by a holy violence the mercy of the Father upon us.” He inculcated to his spiritual children the necessity of mortifying the senses; for the flesh having been partner in the sin of out first parents, and continuing to be so in the revolt against the spirit, it is to be chastised, subdued and crucified; and the senses being the avenues of the soul, are the instruments by which the passions are inflamed, and these never can be governed, unless those inlets be strictly guarded and curbed. Hence the obligation of exterior mortification is so strongly inculcated in the law of the gospel; neither can any one hope to obtain the mastery of his interior, and to possess or govern his soul without this extrinsic succor. Yet St. Francis did not enjoin by this rule any great austerities, that it might be accommodated to the weakest constitutions, and might be less liable to the danger of pernicious relaxations creeping in under the cloak of frequent dispensations. But then he pointed out a constant crucifixion of the senses by little denials; for he had observed the dangerous mistake of some, who, professing austere rules, are so far strangers to the spirit of their institute, and of their holy founders, as to flatter themselves the extraordinary rigors they practise are to be compensated by other indulgencies. Whilst under this pretence they allow themselves many liberties, they in a great measure forfeit the advantages of their other mortifications, and the senses, by being sometimes indulged with excess and delicacy, remain headstrong and untamed. Some degrees of relaxation on certain occasions are reasonable and necessary in all states; but a loose is never to be given to the senses in eating and drinking, or any other point. If the rule prescribed by St. Francis was in this respect milder than many others, and seemed more easy in practice, he, on the other side, allowed no mitigation in the essential interior mortification of the will and the passions. Many have the courage to renounce exterior things, as St. Gregory observes, but very few can find their hearts truly to me to themselves. For want of this, many who are virtuous and devout in appearance, will be found to have heaped up nothing but false virtues, and often in their very fasts and prayers to have offered sacrifices which were abominable in the sight of God, because infected with the stinking poison of self-love; nor is it enough to banish self-will in greater vices so long as it is suffered still to fortify itself in smaller inordinate attachments. The least of these is a tie which fastens the soul to the earth, and an obstacle to the reign of the pure love of God in her. This lesson St. Francis strongly inculcates to his spiritual daughters. “We must die,” said he,2 “that God may live in us. It is impossible to procure the union of our souls to God by any other means. These words seem hard; but they are followed with others of incomparable sweetness, that by this death we be united to God.” He taught them, that the principal means by which we are thus to die to ourselves, are perfect obedience to superiors, and entire re signation to the divine will, so as never to ask, never to refuse anything in diet, or such temporal things; never to be disturbed or uneasy in any concerns. “You ask,” said he again,3 “what I desire should remain most deeply engraved on your mind. Ah! what shall I say to you, my most dear daughters, but these two words? Desire nothing, refuse nothing. For this document compriseth the perfect doctrine of indifferency of the will. Behold, the little Jesus in the crib refuseth nothing, cold, poverty, nakedness, the company of beasts, all the injuries of the season, and whatever his Father permitted. Neither did he refuse those little comforts which his mother offered him. Even so we ought to receive equally all that Providence shall permit to befall us, &c.”

By these excellent maxims did our saint regulate her conduct, and she never ceased to inculcate the same, both by word and example, to her religious sisters. She taught them by humility to love and receive well reprimands and correction; for our souls are spiritually sick, and must rejoice to be pared and cut, to receive their polish, suffering cheerfully the fire and the lancet of humiliations and mortification. The greatest mark of true humility and perfect virtue is, if a soul loves to be humbled and corrected. St. Jane exhorted her nuns to complete in themselves, by a devout spirit of prayer, the work which they began by humility, obedience, and self-denial. She instructed them to repeat acts of divine love, a hundred and a hundred times a-day, by ejaculatory aspirations, by them darting their affections towards God, and continually offering to him their hearts and all their actions. Being scrupulously exact in the least circumstances relating to the divine service, she taught all under her care the same spirit of religion. Once hearing a noise made in a chamber under the chapel whilst the blessed sacrament was exposed, to repair that fault of irreverence, or inadvertence, she at dinner asked pardon of God for her sisters, kissed their feet, and dined on the floor, which is an ordinary humiliation and penance in many religious communities. When some of the sisters did not rise instantly at the toll of the bell for the divine office, she gave a public reprimand with many tears, saying, “If we reflect that it is the voice of God which calls us to pay him our homage, we should not loiter one moment.” But a detail of her admirable lessons, and the edifying instances of her charity, meekness, and all virtues, would be too long for this place, but may be read in her life written by the bishop of Puy, and again by Marsollier. Soon after she had made her religious profession, she desired to make a vow of doing in every action what she thought most perfect or most pleasing to God; which she did with the approbation of St. Francis, who said he knew the constant fervor and perfection of her soul in laboring always to accomplish such a vow, which never can be allowed, except to persons in whom the most perfect habits of fervor have taken the deepest root.4 This saint was afflicted with frequent painful sicknesses, and suffered for some time many grievous interior trials from a scrupulous fear of offending God. But it appears from the state of her interior, as she laid it open to her holy director, that she frequently received extraordinary consolations and favors from God. Her sickness seemed to her physicians sometimes to proceed from the ardor of the divine love with which she was consumed. In one of her letters to St. Francis, she said, “The whole world would die of love for so amiable a God, if I could make it feel the sweetness which a soul tastes in loving him.”

The affairs of her children, after the death of her father, and the foundation of many new convents at Lyons, Grenoble, Bourges, Dijon, Moulins, Nevers, Orleans, and Paris, obliged her often to leave Annecy. The very same year that she took the habit, upon the death of her pious father, she went to Dijon, and stayed there some months to settle her affairs, and place her son in the academy. She afterward procured his marriage with Miss Mary de Coulange, a beautiful, virtuous, and rich young lady. At Paris she met with a violent persecution; but God strengthened and comforted her under it; and by the example of her astonishing meekness and patience, rendered her the admiration of those who had been her most bitter adversaries. She governed her convent at Paris for three years, from 1619 to 1622. In the following year, the death of St. Francis was a grievous affliction to her, which nevertheless, her perfect resignation to the divine will made her to bear with unshaken constancy. It was her happiness to bury his body with great honor in the church of her convent at Annecy. Her son having prepared himself for battle, by devoutly receiving the sacraments, was killed fighting against the Huguenots, in the isle of Rhé, in 1627, and in the thirty first year of his age, leaving a new married lady, with a daughter not a year old, who was the celebrated madame de Sevigné.* St. Jane received this afflicting news, which drew tears from strangers, with such an heroic fortitude and entire submission to the divine appointments, as astonished those that were with her. Upon any sudden affliction she used to offer her heart to God, saying, “Destroy, cut, burn, whatever opposes your holy will.” Her daughter-in-law de Chantal was snatched away in 1631, leaving her only daughter five years old. The very next day after she had received this melancholy news, she heard that of the death of her son-in-law, the count of Toulonjon, whom she most tenderly loved, and who died at Pignerol, of which he was governor. Our saint neglected nothing to comfort the young widow her daughter. Exterior trials, how severe soever, were light in comparison of the interior anguish, darkness, and spiritual dryness which she sometimes experienced for a considerable time, as appears from several of her letters, quoted by the bishop of Puy. Good God! how adorable are the designs of your providence! You suffer those souls which are most dear to you seemingly to lose themselves in labyrinths, to wander in mists and darkness, amidst various disturbances of mind. Yet these are certain and direct paths to happiness; and with infinite wisdom do you make them lead to yourself, the source and centre of all light. So sweetly, through your mercy, do all things work together to the good of your elect. This saint was in return often favored with extraordinary consolations.

By all her trials, and by her constant love and practice of the most heroic humility, patience, meekness, charity, and obedience, she labored assiduously to overcome herself, and to gain and maintain an absolute ascendant of the superior part of her soul over the inferior. She never ceased inculcating to her religious sisters the necessity of continually renouncing and dying to ourselves, out of a great desire of pleasing God; for by this is the servant of God styled the strong woman, because she courageously and earnestly puts her hand to the most difficult task of conquering and subduing herself. “Our Saviour,” said the saint to her nuns, “has annexed the prize of his love and of eternal glory to the victory we gain over ourselves. Your intention in coming to the Visitation is to disunite yourselves from yourselves, in order to be united to God. It is a little field, where, unless one die to oneselt, there will be no reaping of fruits. You can only upon this condition be spouses of Jesus Christ, that by crucifying your judgment, your will, and your inclinations, you may become like to him. This spouse of your hearts makes you climb up, and draws you after him to the top of Mount Calvary. where, crowned with thorns, he suffers himself to be stripped, nailed, despised, and afflicted with a thousand and a thousand unspeakable sharp torments. It is your part to continue there with him, endeavoring to imitate him by an entire conformity in two points. The first is, to get clear of yourselves, and with constancy aspire to perfection. We come from the world rough, unpolished, and full of evil inclinations, which we must labor to cut away. Unless we strike off these irregularities, we can never square with him, who is perfect and holy. The second point is, to suffer your hearts to be mortified, pared, and bent as is thought expedient, by obedience, and an entire resignation of yourselves into the hands of those that direct you, with perfect simplicity. Let them or the hand of God strike where you feel it most. If you resist, you cannot become the spouse of Christ crucified, nor attain to perfection. On the contrary, if in good earnest you aoandon and renounce yourselves, you will find an incomparable sweetness in God’s service, and it will be your delight to trample on self-love for the advancing of the kingdom of grace. It is the reward God promises to the conqueror. I will give them a hidden manna, says he; which, upon the first tasting it, will give them a loathing of all the delights which the whole earth affords. But take notice, that you must conquer before you can taste this manna; for it is not afforded to the cowardly, but reserved for souls of valor, courage, and resolution, that are absolutely determined to sacrifice all, without reserving anything for themselves; they who leave nothing alive, but kill every evil inclination, will have a title to all. But this violence ought to be sweet and gentle, though firm and constant. O my children, kill boldly and courageously your enemy. By its death you will gain peace and life. I know one who has made an unspeakable progress by this method of overcoming himself in every respect; he is advanced in his way in a little time much further than many others less resolved in the business of self-denial.” On another occasion, our saint bitterly deplored the blindness and misery of many souls who practise exercises of devotion; but being of an unmortified and self-conceited temper, reap little benefit, but rather fall more easily into pride, and imagine they are in a state to which they are utterly strangers. Being once consulted by letter about a religious person who seemed to live in great virtue, and to receive extraordinary graces, she wrote back, “You have sent me the leaves of the tree; send me likewise some of its fruit, that I may judge of it; for I matter not the leaves. Now the fruits of a good heart which God waters and nourishes with his grace, are a total forgetfulness of itself, a great love of humiliations, and an universal joy and satisfaction in everybody’s good.”

Thus did our excellent directress of souls in the paths of virtue study first to draw them from themselves, and to vanquish in them all inordinate attachments and evil inclinations, in order to carry them toward God; to whom souls which are perfectly disentangled from earthly things, are wonderfully united by divine love, and its main source and vital action, a spirit of prayer. As to the manner of holy meditation and prayer, she advised that persons be instructed how to excite pious affections, and form good resolutions in that exercise; but would have them allowed to follow these affections according to their own devotion, and the motions of the Holy Ghost. She exhorted strenuously to perseverance, and if distractions molest us, to make a prayer of patience, humbly and lovingly begging God to be our support, and to inspire us with a desire of loving and praising him, and the like. To pray always is a lesson she often repeated to her religious, saying that the heart ought to be praying and loving while we are at our recreation, work, speaking, or resting; which is the meaning of the spouse, when she says, I sleep, but my heart watcheth. In a time of spiritual dryness, when she found her heart dull in its inward operations, she wrote a prayer made up of various acts of love, praise, thanksgiving, compunction, and supplications for herself, friends, enemies, sinners, the dead, and whatever she desired to ask of God; and this paper she carried day and night at her neck, having made this amorous compact with our Lord, that as often as she pressed it on her heart, it should express her intention of repeating all these acts with the utmost fervor of which she was capable. Of the same nature is a desire by repeating Amen, to assent to, and join in all the acts of love and praise, which the heavenly spirits and all God’s servants on earth offer without intermission, and in the supplications of the latter. A pestilence raged violently two years at Annecy. The duke and duchess of Savoy endeavored several ways to engage our saint to provide for her safety by flight. But she could not be induced to abandon her dear flock; and by her exhortations, alms and prayers, exceedingly alleviated the public calamity in that city. Her whole community was by a singular providence preserved from the contagion. In 1638 the duchess royal of Savoy called her to Turin, to found there the convent of her Order. She was soon after invited to Paris by the queen of France, and to her extreme mortification, was treated there with the greatest distinction and honor imaginable. In her return she fell ill of a fever, with a peripneumony or inflammation of the lungs, by which she was detained on the road in her convent at Moulins. There it was that, having received the last sacraments, and given her last instructions to her nuns, she, with wonderful tranquillity, died the death of the saints on the 13th of December, 1641, being sixty-nine years old. Her mortal remains were conveyed with great honor to Annecy. Among several visions of her glory, St. Vincent of Paul, who had been her confessor at Paris, was favored with one, about which he consulted the bishop of Paris, a judicious monk, and some other learned men. Though he carefully concealed the divine gifts and favors, yet for the glory of this great servant of God, he left an authentic verbal process of this vision, but as of a third person. In it he says he had never been favored with any vision relating to the glory of any other saint, and that he had always the highest opinion of the sanctity of this pious lady. He tells us, that upon the news of her sickness he was praying for her with great earnestness, when he saw a little shining ball, as it were, of fire rising from the earth, and meeting in the air another larger ball of fire; both which mounted up to the heavens, and buried themselves in an immense bright fire, which, as an interior voice told him in a very distinct manner, represented the divine essence, and the other two balls the souls of blessed Jane Frances Chantal, and St. Francis of Sales. Soon after he heard of her death, and was struck with a sudden apprehension lest she might have committed some venial sin in some of the words she had spoken to him, though he always regarded her as a person accomplished in all virtues, and one of the most holy souls he ever knew. In this fear he prayed for her with greater fervor than before, and he was that instant favored with the same vision a second time. From that moment he was fully persuaded of the certainty of her glory.5 Several miracles are related by the bishop of Puy to have been performed by her, some whilst she was living, others through her intercession, and by her relics after her death. Among others, he mentions a young nun at Nemers, in the county of Maine, who had been struck with a palsy, and confined to her bed seven weeks in the most deplorable and helpless condition; but was on a sudden perfectly restored to her health, and the use of her limbs, by invoking this servant of God, who was then lately deceased. Whilst the community was singing the Te Deum for this miracle, another nun, who was grievously afflicted with sickness, and whose legs were swelled to an enormous size, begged the like favor through the intercession of this saint, and found herself no less suddenly sound and well, so that the choir sang a second Te Deum in thanksgiving immediately after the first. Several other miracles were proved before commissaries, and declared authentic in the process for her beatification, which was performed, and the decree published, by pope Benedict XIV. in 1751, who commanded her name to be inserted in the Roman Martyrology. Clement XIV. by a decree, 2d September, 1769, fixed her feast on the 21st of August.

The favorite maxims which this saint inculcated to her spiritual children regarded humility, meekness, and charity. “Humility,” said she,6 “consists in this, that when others humble us, we humble ourselves still more; when others accuse us, we add to their accusations; when we are employed in mean offices, we sincerely own it is more than we deserve; when we are cast by, we are well content. A religious person cannot give a more evident mark of pride and incapacity, than to think herself capable of anything. Did we but know how strangely those souls affront the Spirit of God that raise themselves, or make ostentation by vanity, we should be ready to pray that fire might fall from heaven upon us, rather than to be guilty of this vice. I wish I could engrave this maxim with my blood. I could wish my lips were bored with a hot iron, on condition that the mouths of the religious might be always shut against the least word that breaks in upon humility.” The saint will have mildness to be so perfect by our assiduity in practising it with the most heroic dispositions, that it becomes, as it were, the natural and constant frame of our souls, which no provocation must ever disturb. Our saint had a wonderful address in tempering corrections and reproofs with such tenderness and charity, as to give no one uneasiness; also in concealing and bearing all personal injuries, and in repaying slanders, curses, and affronts with blessings and favors. Her exhortations to her sisters to bear with one another’s burdens, and to suffer nothing ever to cool the sweetness of their charity toward every one, were most pathetic and earnest; and she often put them in mind in what school we are educated. “With whom,” said she, “did Jesus Christ converse? With a traitor, who sold him at a cheap rate; with a thief, who reviled him in his last moments; with sinners and proud Pharisees. Ah! shall we, at every shadow of an affront or contradiction, show how little charity and patience we have!” She was ever inculcating how enormous the sin of speaking against one’s neighbor is; especially where there is the least shadow of envy or spite: and she often repeated, that whoever were guilty of it, deserved to have their tongues cut out; wishing, that by the loss of her own she could prevent this foul sin ever happening among her religious sisters.

AUGUST 21 — ST. RICHARD, BISHOP OF ANDRIA, CONFESSOR

This saint was an Englishman by birth, and turning his soul to God with his whole strength from his infancy, was careful so to spend the most precious time of his youth as to ground himself early in rooted habits of abstinence, humility, prayer, and all other virtues. In the meantime, he applied himself to the study both of the liberal and sacred sciences, taught the latter for some time with great applause, and took holy orders. With a view to his spiritual advancement he left his own country, and travelling into Italy, led a most holy retired life, till the reputation of his learning and extraordinary sanctity filled the whole country. The pope having been long acquainted with his qualifications and virtue, at length promoted him to the bishopric of Andria in Apulia. All Italy was at that time miserably distracted by domestic feuds and factions. Richard, by his prudence and zeal, was a great instrument of the divine mercy in applying a remedy to these inveterate evils, and to stir up men to a spirit of penance and piety. Whilst he preached to others not only in his own diocess, but over the whole country, at the request of the neighboring bishops, like a Baptist or a St. Paul, he nourished his soul with the heavenly dew of prayer, and kept his body in subjection by exercising upon himself incredible severities. He died towards the close of the twelfth century, was canonized by pope Boniface VIII. and is honored at Andria as patron of that church. See his life in Ughelli’s Italia Sacra, and in the Bollandists on the 9th of June.

AUGUST 21 — SAINT BERNARD PTOLEMY FOUNDER OF THE OLIVETANS

He was born at Sienna in 1272. After giving the most illustrious proofs of his learning and virtue, he disposed of all his worldly substance to the poor, and retired into a frightful desert near Sienna, where he led a most austere life. Here, being joined by some pious companions, he founded the Congregation of our Lady of Mount Olivet in 1319, approved by the holy see. He died on the 20th of August, 1348, and is named in the Roman Martyrology. See the Bollandists, p. 465.

AUGUST 22 — SAINT HIPPOLYTUS, BISHOP, M

From S. Jerom in Catal. c. 1. Eus.1. 6, c. 20. Photins, Cod. 121, &c. See Ceillier, t. 2, p. 316. Fleury,1. 5, n. 51. Rivet, Hist. Littér. de la France, t. 1, p. 361. Le Moyne Var. Sacra, t. 1, pp. 29, 30; Cuper the Bollandist, t. 4, Aug. ad diem 22, p. 504. Fabricius in Bibl. Grecâ, t. 5, par. 1. seu.1. 5, c. 1, p. 203. Idem, in editione operum ejus Hamburgi, in two vols. folio, anno 1716. Jos. Sim. Assemanl in Bibl. Orient. t. 3, par. 1, c. 7, p. 15.

THIS primitive prelate and illustrious doctor flourished in the beginning of the third century. St. Jerom says he was not able to learn of what city he was bishop; but Gelasius, in his book on the two natures of Christ, styles him metropolitan of Arabia. He was a disciple of St. Irenæus, as Photius testifies, and also of St. Clement of Alexandria, and master of Origen. Eusebius and St. Jerom assure us that he wrote comments on several parts of the holy scriptures, and by his example Origen was afterward excited to do the like. A collection of his homilies was extant in Theodoret’s time, who cites several of them; and also a letter which St. Hippolytus wrote to the empress Severa, wife to Philip, in which he treats of the mysteries of the incarnation of Christ, and of the resurrection of the dead.1 In his work against Noëtus, a considerable part of which is still extant, he clearly proves the distinction of the persons in the Trinity, the divinity of God the Son, and the distinction of the divine and human nature in Christ, for which his authority was afterward urged with great force against the Eutychians. He wrote a chronicle down to the year 222; which work is not yet discovered in any Greek manuscripts that are known.* His Paschal Cycle, fixing the time of Easter for sixteen years from the first of Alexander Severus, the most ancient work of this nature known, was published by Gruter, and with notes by Joseph Scaliger, and the Jesuit Boucher or Bucherius. We have extant several fragments of the comments of St. Hippolytus on the holy scriptures, and his homily on the Theophania or Epiphany, in which he speaks chiefly of the baptism of Christ, and of the wonderful effects of the sacrament of baptism. His treatise on the fast of Saturday; another, Whether a Christian ought to receive the holy communion every day? his Hymns on the holy scriptures, his books On the origin of good and evil, and against Marcion, and his book Against heresies, with several other works, are lost. In this last he gives an account of thirty-two heresies from the sect of the Dositheans among the Jews, akin to the Sadducees, down to that of Noëtus, who confounded the persons in the Trinity, and broached his heresy at Smyrna in 245. Of this last work of St. Hippolytus Photius writes, “Hippolytus says that these thirty-two heresies have been confuted by St. Irenæus, and that he has collected in this little book the reasonings and arguments of that father. His discourse is clear and serious, and he says nothing but what is to the purpose, though he has not all the beauties of the Attic style.”

In the year 1551 was dug up, near the church of St. Laurence without the walls of Rome, on the road to Tivoli (where there was in all probability a chapel erected in honor of St. Hippolytus), an old statue of marble, representing St. Hippolytus sitting in a chair, on the sides of which are inscribed his two Greek cycles, for eight years each; on the right side is the cycle of the several fourteenth days of the moons, and on the left that for the Sundays. On the side of this cycle is engraved a catalogue of St. Hippolytus’s works. This statue is now in the Vatican library. This ancient father’s book on Antichrist, mentioned by Eusebius, St. Jerom, and others, was discovered and published in 1661, and is manifestly the same work of which Photius speaks. He points out from Daniel and other prophets the marks of Antichrist, who is to appear before the end of the world.* St. Jerom2 calls St. Hippolytus “a most holy and eloquent man.” St. Chrysostom and others give him the honorable epithets of “a source of light, a faithful witness, a most holy doctor, and a man full of sweetness and charity.” Theodoret ranks him with St. Irenæus, and calls them “spiritual fountains in the church.”3 St. Jerom and other ancients style him bishop and martyr. Some Martyrologies place his death in the reign of Alexander, who died in 235; but though he flourished in his days, according to Eusebius and St. Jerom, yet St. Gregory of Tours and others quoted by Du Cange and Schelstrate, say he received his crown in the persecution of Decius in 251. Ruinart and Berti prefer this opinion; for the heresy of Noëtus first made its appearance about the year 245, and St. Hippolytus brought down his chronicle to the year 234, the thirteenth of Alexander. The Martyrologies of the eighth age say that he was bishop of Porto, which was the harbor of the city of Rome on the mouth of the Tiber, sixteen miles from Rome, and two from Ostia, on the opposite side of the river; though both these cities have been long since destroyed, yet the titular bishoprics subsist among the six suffragans of Rome. Le Moyne conjectures this to have been a mistake of Porto for Aden, formerly called Portus Romanus, in Arabia, because it was frequented by the Romans who came into those parts, as the port of the Persian merchants was on the opposite gulf, as Philostorgius informs us; but it nowhere appears that Aden, or the Roman port in Africa, ever was a bishop’s see. Nor does it occur in any ancient list. See Commanville’s accurate Tables, p. 282. Those of Miræus and Charles a S. Paulo, in Georg. Saera, p. 295; and the conjecture of Le Moyne seems more ingenious than solid. It is therefore uncertain of what see he was bishop, which neither Eusebius nor St. Jerom could learn, though Gelasius seems to place it under the metropolitan of Bosra in Arabia, as F. Cuper proves. That he flourished in the East is clear, otherwise Origen could not have been his scholar; but he passed some time in the West; for his cycles are calculated after the manner of the Latins, not after that of the Alexandrians and other Orientals. He must have been a disciple of St. Irenæus at Lyons, and probably after his martyrdom returned into the East, taught, and was made bishop there; but the testimonies of ancient Martyrologies of the eighth century, the tradition of the church of Porto, and the statue of this saint found at Rome, seem to prove that he came from Arabia into Italy, or received a glorious crown of martyrdom probably in that country. Several Oriental calendars say the manner of his martyrdom was drowning. Baronius tells us that at his time a well was shown at Porto in which he was said to have been drowned, and near it a church which bore his name, which had formerly been most famous, but was then decaying; it is now in ruins. It appears from Anastasius the Librarian, in the life of Leo III., that this pope gave rich garments to cover the martyr’s body in this church. This, however, may have been some other martyr of the same name; for there are several; and the statue proves only that there might have been a chapel or altar erected there in honor of this illustrious bishop and martyr. So that we dare not positively conclude either that he is the martyr Hippolytus of Porto, or that Italy was the theatre of his martyrdom, though this seems probable.

The writings of St. Hippolytus show how careful the primitive Christians were to have the divine judgment constantly before their eyes, which St. John Climacus describes to be the character of the true servant of God.4 By this means they maintained themselves always in fear and compunction; solicitous, watchful, and timorous in all their actions. By this they were animated to despise a false and transitory world, and to suffer with joy all torments, and every barbarous kind of death rather than to consent to sin; especially in time of temptation this consideration was their shield and fence, according to the rule which St. Basil, the great master of a spiritual life, lays down:5 “If ever you are tempted to sin, call to mind the terrible tribunal of God, at which all men must appear.” The Greeks and Æthiopians honor St. Hippolytus the bishop on the 29th of our January, the Latins on the 22d or 23d of August.

AUGUST 22 — ST. SYMPHORIAN, M

He was son of Faustus, of a noble Christian family, and suffered at Autun in Gaul, soon after the martyrs of Lyons, in the reign of Marcus Aurelius. He had been baptized by St. Benignus, was well instructed in polite literature and in his faith, was then in the bloom of life, and remarkable for his modesty, prudence, charity and the innocence of his manners. The city of Autun was one of the most ancient and famous of all Gaul; but at that time the most superstitious, and particularly addicted to the worship of Cybele, Apollo, and Diana. On a certain day of the year, the statue of Cybele was with great pomp carried through the streets in a chariot richly adorned. Symphorian, because he had not on that occasion adored it, was seized by the mob, and carried before Heraclius, a man of consular dignity, and governor of the province, who happened to be then at Autun, very busy in calling the Christians to an account. Heraclius, being seated on his tribunal, asked him why he refused to adore the image of the mother of the gods. He answered, because he was a Christian, and adored the true God who reigneth in heaven. The judge then inquired of the officers whether he was a citizen of the place. One of them answered: “He is of this place, and of a noble family.” The judge said to Symphorian: “You flatter yourself on account of your birth, and are perhaps unacquainted with the emperor’s orders.” He then ordered him to be bound, and said to him: “What say you to this, Symphorian?” The martyr continuing to express his abhorrence of the idol, Heraclius commanded him to be cruelly beaten with clubs, and sent him to prison. Two days after, he was brought out of his dark dungeon, and presented before the tribunal. Heraclius courted him by proffers of preferment, saying: “It would be much better for you to serve the immortal gods, and to receive a gratuity from the public treasury, with an honorable military office. If you have a mind, I will cause the altars to be adorned with flowers, that you may offer to the gods the incense which is due to them.” Symphorian testified by his answer, that he despised the offers that were made him, and abhorred the cruel and extravagant superstitions that were made use of in the worship of Cybele. At length the judge condemned him to die by the sword. He heard the sentence with joy. As he was carried out of the town to execution, his mother, standing on the walls of the city, to see him pass by, cried out to him: “My son, my son Symphorian, remember the living God, and be of good courage. Raise your heart to heaven, and consider him that reigneth there. Fear not death which leads to certain life.” He suffered about the year 178. Some religious persons carried away his body privately, and buried it in a cave, near a fountain, without the common field. His tomb became famous for miracles, and in the middle of the fifth century Euphronius, a priest, afterward bishop of Autun, built over it a church in his honor. See his authentic Acts in Ruinart, p. 70; and Saint Gregory of Tours, Hist.1. 2, c. 15, and1. De Gloriâ Mart.; also Tillemont, t. 4; Ceillier, t. 2. p. 99.

AUGUST 22 — ST. TIMOTHY, M

This holy man went from Antioch to Rome; and having preached there about a year, was beheaded by order of the tyrant Maxentius, son of Maximian Herculeus, in 311. The Roman Martyrology and Breviary join his name with those of the two foregoing martyrs. See Tillemont; Baillet. &c.

AUGUST 22 — ST. ANDREW DEACON, C

He was a Scottish or Irish gentleman, who in youth attended St. Donatus his countryman into Tuscany, that they might serve God unknown in holy retirement. Saint Donatus was chosen bishop of Fiesoli in Tuscany; and he ordained St. Andrew deacon; in which ministry he served that church in eminent sanctity. He died about the year 880, is honored with singular devotion in that country, and is named in several Martyrologies. See his life with Cuper’s comments in the Bollandists on the 22d of August, p. 539; also Colgan, Act SS. Hib. p. 237.

AUGUST 22 — ST. PHILIBERT FIRST ABBOT OF JUMIEGES AND NERMOUTIER

He was born in the territory of Eaulse in Gascony, which was then an archiepiscopal see, but since removed to Auch. His father, Philibald, having received holy orders, was made bishop of Vic-jour (in Latin Vicus Julius) which see was a short time after translated to Aire. The young Philibert was educated under the eyes of his father, who sent him to the court of Clotaire II. where the example and instructions of St. Ouen made so deep an impression on him, that, disgusted with the world, he, at the age of twenty years, took the habit in the abbey of Rebais in the diocess of Meaux, founded by St. Ouen. Here his eminent virtues procured him to be appointed successor to Saint Aile in the government of this house, but he left it on finding some of the monks refractory. After having visited the most celebrated houses which professed the rule of Saint Columban, he retired into Neustria, now called Normandy. Clovis II. and queen Matilda gave him ground in the forest of Jumieges, where he founded the monastery which bears his name, not far from that of Fontenelle, of which St. Vandrille was superior. He inured his subjects to hard labor, obliging them to remove the rocks and drain the morasses which covered the country;* and the community of Jumieges increased in a short time to such a degree, that it consisted of nine hundred monks. He also built a monastery for women at Pavilly,† on a piece of ground given him by Amalbert, lord of that district, whose daughter Aurea took the veil there. St. Philibert having some business at the court in 674, boldly reproached Ebroin, mayor of the palace, for his many acts of injustice. This brought on him the vengeance of that cruel minister, who persecuted him so violently that he was obliged to quit Jumieges. The saint then retired to Poitiers, and afterward to the little island of Hero, on the coast of Poitou, where he founded a monastery, formerly called Hermoutier, now Nermoutier or Noirmoutier. He likewise founded the priory of Quinzay, near Poitiers, the government of which he gave to St. Aicard, whom he afterward made abbot of Jumieges. He shut himself up at Hermoutier, where he died in 684. He is mentioned on the 20th and 22d of August in the Martyrologies of the ninth age. In the Norman incursions the monks of Hermoutier translated his relics to the monastery of Tournus in the diocess of Macon; which house, together with other possessions, was the gift of Charles the Bald. It was afterward changed into an abbey, which became very famous; but was secularized by Urban VIII. in 1627, and is now a collegiate church. It retains however the title of abbey, and is held in commendam. See the life of St. Philibert in Mabillon, sæc. 2 Bened.; Chifflet, Hist. de l’Abb. et l’Egl. de Tournus; and Juenin, Nouv. Hist. de l’Abb. de S. Philibert, et Ville de Tournus, Dijon, 1733, in 4to.

AUGUST 23 — ST. PHILIP BENITI, C

From the Annals of the Order of Servites, compiled by Giani, with the notes of Garbi, printed at Lucca in 1719, in two vols. fol.; and the notes of F. Cuper the Bollandist, Augusti t. 4, p. 654. Also from Paulus Florentinus, in his Dialogues De Origine Servorum B. Mariæ V. published in the Deliciæ Eruditorum, Romæ, 1754, t. 10; and Chronicon Rerum Ordinis Servorum B. M. V. a Fr. Mich. Florentino. Florentiæ, 1567. 4to.

A. D. 1285.

ST. PHILIP BENITI or BENIZI, the principal ornament and propagator of the religious Order of the Servites in Italy, was descended of the noble family of Benizi in Florence, and a native of that city. His virtuous parents were well persuaded that the right or wrong state of human nature depends as necessarily upon the education of children, as that of a plant upon proper culture; and that the whole of this art consists, not only in strengthening the body by suitable exercise, and opening and improving the faculties of the mind by proper studies, but above all by forming in youth strong and lasting habits, and inspiring them with the most noble sentiments of all virtues. Through their care, assisted by a special grace, Philip preserved his soul untainted by vice and the world, and daily advanced in the fear of God. Having gone through the studies of humanity in his own country, he was sent to Paris to apply himself to the study of medicine,* in which charity was his motive; and Galen, though a heathen, was a strong spur to him in raising his heart continually from the contemplation of nature to the adoration and praise of its great Author. From Paris he removed to Padua, where he pursued the same studies, and took the degree of doctor, which then was the same in that faculty as in Arts.1 After his return to Florence he took some time to deliberate with himself what course to steer, earnestly begging God to direct him into the path in which he should most perfectly fulfil his divine will.

The religious Order of Servites, or servants of God, under the special patronage of the Blessed Virgin, had been instituted in that country fifteen years before. Seven very rich merchants of Florence had laid the foundation of this institute, having by mutual agreement retired to Monte Senario, six miles from that city. They lived there in little cells, something like the hermits of Camaldoli, possessing nothing but in common, and professing obedience to Bonfilio Monaldi, whom they chose superior. The austerities which they practised were exceeding great, and they lived in a great measure on alms. Bonfilio Monaldi, the first superior of this fervent company, at the request of certain pious persons, founded a small convent near one of the gates of Florence, with a chapel under the title of the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin. St. Philip happening to hear mass in this chapel on Thursday in Easter week, was strongly affected with the words of the Holy Ghost to the deacon Philip, which were read in the epistle of that day,2 Draw near, and join thyself to the chariot. His name being Philip, he applied to himself these words of the Holy Ghost, as an invitation to put himself under the patronage of the Blessed Virgin in that holy Order. The night following he seemed to himself, in a dream or vision, to be in a vast wilderness (representing the world) full of precipices, rocks, flint-stones, briers, snares, and venomous serpents, so that he did not see how it was possible for him to escape so many dangers. Whilst he was in the utmost dread and consternation, he thought he beheld the Blessed Virgin seated in a chariot, calling him to this new Order. The next day Philip revolved in his mind, that great watchfulness and an extraordinary grace are requisite to discover every lurking rock or sand in the course of life in the world, and he was persuaded that God called him to this Order, established under the patronage of his Mother, as to a place of refuge. Accordingly he repaired to the little chapel where he had heard mass, and was admitted by F. Bonfilio to the habit, in quality of lay-brother, that state being more agreeable to his humility. He made his religious vows on the 8th of September in 1233, and was sent by his superior to Monte Senario, there to work at every kind of hard country labor. The saint cheerfully applied himself to it in a perfect spirit of penance, but accompanied his work with constant recollection and fervent prayer; and all his spare hours he devoted to this holy exercise in a little cave behind the church, where, inebriated with heavenly delights, and in ecstasies of divine love, he often forgot the care which he owed to his body. He most industriously concealed his learning and talents, till they were at length discovered; in the meantime those who conversed with him admired the heavenly prudence and light with which he spoke on spiritual things. He was charged with the care of a new convent that was founded at Sienna, where he undesignedly displayed his abilities in a discourse on certain controverted points, in presence of two learned Dominicans and others, to the great astonishment of those that heard him. The superiors of his Order were hereupon engaged by others to draw this bright light from under the bushel, and to place it on the candlestick. Having therefore obtained a dispensation of his Holiness, they took care to have him promoted to holy orders, though nothing but their absolute command could extort the humble saint’s consent to such a step. He was soon after made definitor, then assistant to the general; and, in 1267, the fifth general of his Order.

Upon the death of Clement IV., the cardinals assembled at Viterbo began to cast their eyes on him to raise him to the apostolic chair. Having intelligence of this design, in the greatest alarm, he retired into the mountains with only one religious companion, and lay concealed there till Gregory X. was chosen. He rejoiced to find in this retreat an opportunity of redoubling the macerations of his body, and giving himself up to the sweet exercise of heavenly contemplation. All this time he lived chiefly on dry herbs, and drank at a fountain, since esteemed miraculous, and called St. Philip’s bath, situate on a mountain named Montagnate. He returned from the desert glowing with holy zeal, to kindle in the hearts of Christians the fire of divine love. After preaching in many parts of Italy, he appointed a vicar-general there to govern his Order, and with two religious companions undertook an extensive mission, preaching with great fruit at Avignon, Toulouse, Paris, and in other great cities in France; also in Flanders, Friesland, Saxony, and Higher Germany. After two years’ absence he came back to hold the general chapter of his Order at Borgo in 1274, in which he used all his endeavors to be released from the burden of the generalship; but was so far from being heard that he was confirmed in that dignity for life. Indeed no one was more worthy of it than he who most sincerely judged himself to be, of all persons living, the most unworthy. In the same year he repaired to the second general council of Lyons, from which he obtained the confirmation of his Order, pope Gregory X. presiding there in person. The saint announced the word of God wherever he came, and had an extraordinary talent in converting sinners, and in reconciling those that were at variance. Italy was at that time horribly divided by intestine discords and hereditary factions, particularly those of the Guelphs and Gibellins.* Holy men often sought to apply remedies to these quarrels, which had a happy effect upon some; but in many, these discords, like a wound ill cured, broke out again with worse symptoms than ever. St. Philip wonderfully pacified the factions when they were ready to tear each other to pieces at Pistoia, and in many other places. He succeeded at length also at Forli, but not without first exposing himself to many dangers. The seditious insulted and beat him in every part of the city; but his invincible patience at length disarmed their fury and vanquished them. St. Peregrinus Latiozi, who was their ringleader, and had himself struck the saint, was so powerfully moved by the example of his meekness and sanctity, that he threw himself at his feet, and with many tears begged his pardon and prayers. Being become a perfect model of penitents, he was received by him into the Order of Servites at Sienna, and continued his penance in sackcloth and ashes to his happy death in the eightieth year of his age. So evident were his miracles and other tokens of his heroic sanctity and perseverance, that he was canonized by Benedict XIII., in 1726.

St. Philip made the sanctification of his religious brethren the primary object of his zeal, as it was the first part of his charge.† Nor was he a stranger to the maxim which the zealous reformer of La Trappe so strenuously inculcated,3 that a religious community in which regular discipline is enervated, and those who profess the Order are strangers to its true spirit, is not a harbor or place of refuge, but a shipwreck of souls. Scarce could a saint be able to resist such a torrent of example, or the poison of such an air, in which, as in a pest-house, every one is confined. Though gross crimes of the world are shut out, the want of the religious spirit, and a neglect of the particular duties of that heroic state, are enough to damn souls. To preserve his family from so fatal a misfortune, our saint never ceased to watch and pray. Judging at length by the decay of his health that the end of his life drew near, he set out to make the visitation of the convents of his Order at Florence, Sienna, Perugia, and other places. Arriving at Todi, he went straight to the altar of our Lady, and falling prostrate on the ground, prayed with great fervor, and said, This is the place of my rest for ever. The day following he made a moving sermon on the glory of the blessed. His disorder manifested itself by a sharp fever on the feast of the Assumption of the Mother of God. The time of his sickness he employed in admirable sentiments of compunction; and on the octave day, falling into his agony, he called for his book, by which word he usually meant his crucifix, and devoutly contemplating it, calmly expired. To give place to the octave of the Assumption, his feast is kept on the following day, the twenty-third of the month. He was canonized by Clement X., in 1671; but the bull was only published by Benedict XIII., in 1724.

In the lives of the saints we see the happiness of a rooted virtue, which, by repeated fervent exercises, is formed into strong and lasting habits of temperance, meekness, humility, charity, and holy zeal. Such a virtue is never warped by selfish views; it never belies, or is inconsistent with itself; it vanquishes all enemies, discovers their snares, triumphs over their assaults, and is faithful to the end. If ours is not such, we have reason to fear it is false, and unworthy of a crown.

AUGUST 23 — SS. CLAUDIUS, ASTERIUS, NEON, DOMNINA, AND THEONILLA, MM

Though the emperors Dioclesian and Maximian were, for a great part of their reign, favorable to the Christians, and passed no edicts against them till the latter end, yet several martyrs suffered in the beginning of their reign, especially at Rome, and in Gaul and Britain, and some also in the East. This was owing to particular occasions, or to the humor of certain governors of provinces, who acted by virtue of former laws which had never been repealed. In this manner the above-mentioned five martyrs were crowned in Cilicia. Claudius, Asterius, and Neon were three brothers, who were impeached as Christians before the magistrates of the city Ægea, in which they dwelt, by their mother-in-law, whose principal view was to possess herself of their estate. About the same time two pious women named Domnina and Theonilla with a little child (perhaps Domnina’s) were likewise, on account of their faith, thrown into prison by the same magistrate, and brought to their trial before the proconsul of Cilicia, whose name was Lysias. Their Acts are extant entire, as they were copied from the proconsular register.

The proconsul visiting his province arrived at Ægea, a seaport, and a free town of Cilicia, forty-six miles south-east from Tarsus; and being there seated on his tribunal said: “Let them bring before me the Christians whom the officers have delivered to the city magistrate.” Euthalius the jailer said: “The magistrate of this city having, pursuant to your orders, made the strictest inquiry after the Christians, has apprehended six of this profession; three young men, all brothers, two women, and a small child. One of them is here before you.” Lysias said to him: “Well; what is your name?” He answered, “Claudius.” “Be not such a madman,” said Lysias, “as to throw thyself away in thy youthful days; but sacrifice to the gods, the only way to escape the torments prepared for thee in case of refusal.” CLAUDIUS. “My God requires no such sacrifices; he rather delights in alms-deeds and holiness of life. Your gods are unclean demons, who are pleased with such sacrifices, whilst they are preparing eternal punishments for those who offer them.” LYSIAS. “Let him be bound in order to be beaten with rods; there is no other way of bringing him to reason.” CLAUDIUS. “Though you should inflict upon me the most cruel torments, you will not move or hurt me.” LYSIAS. “The emperors have commanded that the Christians sacrifice to the gods; that they who refuse to do it be punished, but that honors and rewards be bestowed on such as obey.” CLAUDIUS. “Their rewards are temporary and short-lived; whereas the confession of Jesus Christ has everlasting glory for its recompense.” Then the proconsul commanded him to be put upon the rack; fire to be applied to his feet, and little slices of flesh to be cut off his heels, and presented to him. The martyr said: “Neither your fire nor all your other torments can hurt those who fear God. All this conduces to bring them to eternal life.” Lysias ordered his flesh to be torn with iron hooks; then his sides to be rubbed with broken potsherds, and burning torches to be applied to them. Claudius said: “I esteem it a great benefit to suffer for God, and the greatest riches to die for Jesus Christ.” LYSIAS. “Take him hence, carry him back to prison, and bring another.” Euthalius, the keeper of the prison, said: “According to your orders, my lord, we have brought hither Asterius the second brother.” Lysias said to him: “Take my advice, and sacrifice to the gods; you have before your eyes the torments that are prepared for those that refuse.” ASTERIUS. “There is one God who dwelleth in the heavens, and in the greatness of his power regardeth the lowest things. Him my parents have taught me to love and adore. I know not those that you worship, and call gods.” Lysias then ordered him to be laid on the rack, saying: “Squeeze his sides, tear them with iron hooks, and bid him comply instantly, and sacrifice to the gods.” Asterius replied: “I am his brother whom you just now interrogated. Our sentiments are the same, and we make the same confession. My body is in your power; but my soul is out of your reach.” Lysias said: “Bring the iron pincers and pulleys, bind his feet, squeeze and torture him, that he may perceive I can inflict torments.” After this he said: “Put live coals under his feet; and lash him on the back and belly with whips of leather thongs.” The martyr replied: “The only favor I desire of you is, that you suffer no part of my body to be exempt from torment.” Lysias said: “Take him hence, and put him with the rest, and bring the third.”

When Neon was brought, Lysias called him son, and treated him with mildness, exhorting him to sacrifice to the gods that he might escape torments. Neon answered that his gods had no power if they were not able to defend themselves without having recourse to his authority. Lysias said: “Strike him on the neck, and bid him not blaspheme the gods.” Neon replied: “You think I blaspheme when I speak the truth.” Lysias said: “Stretch him by the feet upon the rack; put burning coals upon him, and scourge his back with thongs.” While this was executing, Neon said: “I will do what is profitable for my soul, and no man shall ever make me change this resolution.” Lysias then dictated this sentence: “Euthalius the keeper, and Archelaus the executioner, shall take care that these three brothers be crucified without the town, that the birds of the air may devour their bodies.”

Then Euthalius presented Domnina, whereupon Lysias said to her: “You see, woman, the fire and torments which are preparing for you; if you would avoid them, draw near and sacrifice.” Domnina replied: “I shall not do it, lest I fall into eternal fire, and perpetual torments. I worship God and his Son Jesus Christ, who hath made heaven and earth, and all that is therein.” Lysias said: “Take off her garments, lay her at her length, and scourge her with rods.” After this was done, Archelaus, the executioner, said to Lysias: “May it please you, Domnina is just expired.” Lysias said: “Throw her body into the midst of the river.” Euthalius said “Here, my lord, is Theonilla.” Lysias said to her: “You have seen the flames and torments with which the others have been punished. Honor the gods and sacrifice.” Theonilla replied. “I dread eternal torments, which will destroy both body and soul.” Lysias said: “Buffet her, lay her flat, and bind her, and torment her with the utmost violence.” Theonilla said: “Are you not ashamed to inflict such punishments on a woman that is free and a stranger too? You know it to be true, and God sees what you do.” Lysias said: “Hang her up by the hair of the head, and strike her on the face.” Theonilla said: “Is it not enough that you have stripped me naked? It is not me only that you have injured, but your mother and your wife are also put to confusion in my person.” Lysias said: “Are you a married woman, or are you a widow?” Theonilla replied: “I have been a widow these three and twenty years. It is for the love of God that I have continued in this state, accustoming myself to fasting, watching, and prayer, ever since I have forsaken your unclean idols.” Lysias said: “Shave her head, that she may undergo greater confusion. Gird her about with thorns: extend her body, and tie it to four stakes; scourge her with thongs, not only upon the back, but over all her body; lay live coals upon her belly, and so let her die.” Euthalius the gaoler and Archelaus the executioner said: “My lord, she is now dead.” Then said Lysias to them: “Sew her body up in a sack; tie it fast, and throw it into the water.” Euthalius and Archelaus said: “We have executed your orders relating to the bodies of the Christians.” The persecutors took these precautions with regard to their dead bodies, that the Christians might not get possession of their relics. These holy martyrs suffered at Ægea in the consulate of Dioclesian and Aristobulus, on the tenth of the calends of September, that is, on the 23d of August, in the year of our Lord 285, Lysias being proconsul of Cilicia, by whose command SS. Cosmas and Damian, brothers and physicians, and a great number of other martyrs suffered. See the genuine proconsular Acts of SS. Claudius, Asterius, &c., in Baronius, Surius, and Ruinart.

AUGUST 23 — ST. APOLLINARIS SIDONIUS, C. BISHOP OF CLERMONT

Caius Solius Apollinaris Sidonius was born at Lyons about the year 431, and was of one of the most noble families in Gaul, where his father and grandfather, both named Apollinaris, had command successively in quality of prefects of the prætorium. He was educated in arts and learning under the best masters, and was one of the most celebrated orators and poets of the age in which he lived. From his epistles it is manifest that he was always religious, pious, humble, affable, extremely affectionate, beneficent, and compassionate, and no lover of the world, even whilst he lived in it; for some time he had a command in the imperial army; and he married Papianilla, by whom he had a son called Apollinaris, and two daughters. Papianilla was daughter of Avitus, who, after having been thrice prefect of the prætorium in Gaul, was raised to the imperial throne at Rome in 455; but being obliged to quit the purple after a reign of ten months, died on the road to Auvergne. Majorian his successor prosecuted his relations, and, coming to Lyons, caused Sidonius to be apprehended; but admiring the constancy with which he bore his disgrace, and becoming acquainted with his extraordinary qualifications and virtue, restored his estates to him, and created him count. Majorian was a good soldier, and began to curb the barbarians who laid waste the fairest provinces of the empire, but was slain in 461, by Ricimer the Goth, his own general, who placed the diadem upon the head of Severus. Upon this revolution Sidonius left the court, and led a retired life in Auvergne, where he protected his province from the Goths, and divided his time between studies and the exercises of piety. Severus was poisoned by Ricimer after a reign of four years, and Anthemius chosen emperor in 467, who immediately called Sidonius again to Rome, and created him prince of the senate, patrician, and prefect of the city. His piety and devotion suffered no prejudice in his elevation, and amidst the distraction of his secular employments, in which he made use of his authority only to promote the divine honor, and to render himself the servant of others in studying to advance every one’s happiness and comfort.

God soon called him from these secular dignities to the government of his church. The bishopric of Avernum, since called Clermont, in Auvergne, falling vacant in 471, the people of that extensive diocess, and the bishops of the whole country, who had long regretted his absence whilst he was detained in the capital of the world, unanimously demanded that he should be restored to them in order to fill the episcopal chair. Sidonius was then a layman and his wife was yet living; he therefore urged the authority of canon against such an election, and opposed it with all his might, till fearing at length to resist the will of heaven, he acquiesced, it having been customary on extraordinary occasions to dispense with the canons which forbid laymen to be chosen bishops. He therefore and his wife agreed to a perpetual separation; and from that moment he renounced poesy, which till then had been his delight, to apply himself only to those studies which were most agreeable to his ministry. He was no stranger to them whilst a layman, and he soon became an oracle whom other bishops consulted in their difficulties, though he was always reserved and unwilling to decide them, and usually referred them to others, alleging that he was not capable of acting the part of a doctor among his brethren, whose direction and science he stood himself infinitely in need of. St. Lupus, bishop of Troyes, who had loved and honored him whilst he was yet wandering in the dry deserts of the world, found his affection for him redoubled when he beheld him become a guide of souls in the paths of religion and virtue. Upon his promotion to the episcopal dignity, he wrote him an excellent letter of congratulation and advice, in which, among other things, he told him;1 “It is no longer by pomp and an equipage that you are to keep up your rank, but by the most profound humility of heart. You are placed above others, but must consider yourself as below the meanest and last in your flock. Be ready to kiss the feet of those who formerly you would not have thought worthy to sit under your feet. You must render yourself the servant of all.” This Sidonius made the rule of his conduct. He kept always a very frugal table, fasted every second day, watched much, and though of a tender constitution, often seemed to carry his penitential austerities to excess. He was frequently in want of necessaries, because he had given all away to the poor. His love and compassion for them, even whilst he lived in the world, were such, that he sometimes had sold all his plate for their relief; which having been done without the knowledge of his wife, she afterward redeemed it.

After he was bishop he looked upon it as his principal duty to provide for the instruction, comfort, and assistance of the poor. In the time of a great famine he maintained, at his own charge, with the charitable succors which Ecdicius, his wife’s brother, put into his hands, more than four thousand Burgundians and other strangers, who had been driven from their own country by misery and necessity; and when the scarcity was over he furnished them with carriages, and sent them to their respective houses. St. Sidonius made frequent visitations of his diocess, and performed every office of his ministry with all the care and prudence possible. The reputation of his wisdom was so great that, being summoned to Bourges, when that see, which was his metropolitan church, was vacant in 472, all the prelates there assembled, with one consent, referred the election of a bishop to him, and he nominated Simplicius, a holy pastor.2 He says that a bishop ought to do by humility what a monk and a penitent are obliged to do by their profession. He gives us the following account of Maximus, archbishop of Toulouse, whom he had before known a very rich man in the world: that he found him in his new spiritual dignity wholly changed; his clothing, countenance, and discourse savored of nothing but modesty and piety; he had short hair, and a long beard; his household stuff was plain; he had nothing but wooden benches, stuff curtains, a bed without feathers, and a table without a carpet; and the food of his family consisted of pulse more than flesh.3 He testifies that the annual festivals of saints were kept with great solemnity; that on them the people flocked to the church in throngs before day; that they lighted up a great many tapers; that the monks and clergy sung the vigils or matins in two choirs, and that they celebrated mass about noon.4

The city of Clermont being besieged, in 575, by Alaric, king of the Visigoths, who then reigned in the southern provinces of France, the zealous bishop encouraged the people to stand upon their defence, by which he exposed himself to the rage of the conquerors after they were masters of the place. He entreated the Arian king to grant several articles in favor of the Catholics, which the barbarian was so far from allowing, that he sent the holy prelate prisoner to Liviane, a castle near Carcassonne, where he suffered much. However, Alaric some time after restored him to his see, and he continued to be the comfort and support of the distressed Catholics in that country. He was again expelled by two factious wicked priests, but some time after recovered the government of his church, and died in peace in the year 482, on the 21st of August. His festival was kept soon after his death with solemnity at Clermont, where his memory is in great veneration. His body lay first in the old church of St. Saturninus, but was afterward translated into that of St. Genesius. See his works;* St. Gregory of Tours, Hist. Fr.1. 11, c. 22, 24; and the life of the saint by Savaron and F. Sirmond; also Fleury,1. 29, n. 36; Ceillier, t. 15; Rivet, Hist. Lit. t. 2, p. 550; Gall Chr., Nov. t. 2, p. 231.

AUGUST 23 — ST. THEONAS, ARCHBISHOP OF ALEXANDRIA, C

He succeeded St. Maximus in that patriarchal chair in 282, and held it almost entirely nineteen years, being himself, by the shining light of his sanctity and learning, the greatest ornament of that church at a time when it was in both respects most flourishing. St. Pierius was then priest and catechist in that church, and supported the high reputation of its school, so as to be styled himself the young Origen. Among the many works which Pierius left, nothing but some few fragments have reached us. Photius tells us that in a book which he wrote upon St. Luke’s gospel, he proved that the disrespect which is shown to images, falls back upon that which they represent. St. Theonas himself wrote a useful letter of instruction, how the Christians who lived in the emperor’s court, ought to behave; it was addressed to Lucian, first chamberlain to the emperor Dioclesian. St. Theonas died in 300, and was succeeded by St. Peter. St. Alexander built in that city church dedicated to God, under the patronage of St. Theonas. See St. Jerom; Eusebius; Cave, Hist. Liter. p. 172; Ceillier, t. 3; Du Pin Bibl. p. 156.

AUGUST 23 — S. EUGENIUS, BISHOP IN IRELAND

The first establishment of the see of Derry* was at a place called Ardfrath, on the river Derg,† of which this saint was the first bishop. He was an excellent and assiduous preacher, and is said to have been of the royal blood of the kings of Leinster. He died on this day in 618, and was buried in his own church-yard, over whose sepulchre a chapel was afterward built. Other writers place his death in 570. See Usher, Ind. Chron. ad an. 570; and Ware’s bishops, p. 286.

AUGUST 23 — ST. JUSTINIAN, HERMIT, M

Was a young nobleman of Lesser Britain, in Gaul, who, passing into Wales, led an eremetical life in the little island Lemeneia, now called Birdsey, near Menevia. He was murdered by servants. St. David, who honored him living, translated his body to Menevia after his death, where it was kept with great veneration. His death happened about the year 529. See our English Hagiographers, and Cuper the Bollandist, p. 633.

AUGUST 24 — ST. BARTHOLOMEW, APOSTLE

The name here given to this apostle is not his proper, but patronymical name; and imports the son of Tholomew or Tolmai, like Barjona and Bar timeus. Rupertus, Jansenius, and several other learned interpreters of the holy scripture, take this apostle to Lave been the same person with Nathaniel, a native of Cana in Galilee, a doctor in the Jewish law, and one of the seventy-two disciples of Christ, to whom he was conducted by St. Philip, and whose innocence and simplicity of heart deserved to be celebrated with the highest eulogium by the divine mouth of our Redeemer.1 Bartholomew Gavant, the learned commentator on the Rubrics of the Roman Missal and Breviary, has endeavored, by an express dissertation, to prove this conjecture. F. Stilting, the Bollandist, has undertaken to confirm this opinion more at large.2 For whereas St. John never mentions Bartholomew among the apostles, so the other three evangelists take no notice of the name of Nathaniel; and they constantly put together Philip and Bartholomew, as St. John says Philip and Nathaniel came together to Christ. Also Nathaniel is reckoned with other apostles when Christ appeared to them at the sea of Galilee after his resurrection;3 and if he had not already belonged to that sacred college, why was he not propounded a candidate for the apostleship to fill the vacant place of Judas?

St. Bartholomew was chosen by Christ one of his twelve apostles, when he formed that sacred college.4 He was with them witness of our Lord’s glorious resurrection, and his other principal actions on earth, and was instructed in his divine school, and from his sacred mouth. He is mentioned among the other disciples who were met together joining in devout prayer after Christ’s ascension, and he received the Holy Ghost with the rest. Having been prepared by the example and instructions of our Redeemer, and by humble and fervent prayer, he was replenished, in the descent of the Holy Ghost, with an heroic spirit of humility, mortification, contempt of the world, compunction, prayer, holy zeal, and burning charity. Thus armed and filled with the eminent spirit of all virtues, twelve apostles converted many great nations to Christ, and carried the sound of his name into the remotest corners of the earth. How comes it that now a-days the apostolical labors of so many ministers of the divine word produce so little fruit? One great reason of this difference is, their neglect to obtain of God a large share in the spirit of the apostles. Their success and the influence of their words upon the hearts of men depend not upon human prudence, eloquence, and abilities; the principal instrument of God’s grace in multiplying the fruit of his word in the hearts of men, is the spirit with which it is announced by those whom he honors with the ministry. Their sincere disinterestedness, humility, and overflowing zeal and charity, give as it were a living voice to that divine faith and virtue which they preach; and those who take upon them this charge are doubly bound to prepare themselves for it by strenuously laboring to obtain of Christ this perfect spirit in the sanctification of their own souls, not to profane their holy ministry, and destroy the work of God which is committed to their charge.

St. Bartholomew being eminently qualified by the divine grace to discharge the functions of an apostle, carried the gospel through the most barbarous countries of the East, penetrating into the remoter Indies, as Eusebius5 and other ancient writers testify. By the name of Indies, the ancients sometimes mean only Arabia and Persia; but here they speak of proper India; for they make mention of the Brachmans of that country, famous over the whole world for their pretended skill in philosophy, and in the superstitious mysteries of their idolatry. Eusebius relates that St. Pantænus, about the beginning of the third century, going into the Indies to confute their Brachmans, found there some who still retained the knowledge of Christ, and showed him a copy of St. Matthew’s gospel in Hebrew, which they assured him that St. Bartholomew had brought into those parts when he planted the faith among them. This apostle returned again into the north-west parts of Asia; and met St. Philip at Hierapolis, in Phrygia. Hence he travelled into Lycaonia, where St. Chrysostom affirms that he instructed the people in the Christian faith; but we know not even the names of many of the countries to which he preached. We are struck with astonishment when we call to mind how many prisons the apostles sanctified, how many dangers they braved, how many vast regions they travelled over, and how many nations they conquered to Christ; but if we admire their courage, zeal, and labors, we have still greater reason to wonder and be confounded at our supine sloth and insensibility, who do nothing for the enlargement of God’s kingdom in others, or even for the sanctification of our own souls. It is not owing to the want of means or of strength through the divine grace, but to the want of courage and sincere resolution, that we do so little; that we find no opportunities for exercising charity towards our neighbor, no time for prayer and recollection of spirit, no strength for the practice of fasting and penance. If we examine into the truth, we shall find that we blind ourselves by vain pretences, and that sloth, tepidity, and indifference have many hindrances, which fervor, resolution, industry, and contrivance find ways readily to remove. The apostles, who did and suffered so much for God, still sincerely called themselves unprofitable servants, made no account of their labors, and were altogether taken up with the thoughts of what they owed to God, and how infinitely they yet fell short of this. True love exerts itself beyond what seems possible, yet counts all it does as nothing.

St. Bartholomew’s last removal was into Great Armenia, where, preaching in a place obstinately addicted to the worship of idols, he was crowned with a glorious martyrdom, as St. Gregory of Tours mentions.6 The modern Greek historians say, that he was condemned by the governor of Albanopolis to be crucified. Others affirm, that he was flayed alive, which might well enough consist with his crucifixion; this double punishment being in use, as we learn from Plutarch and Arrian, not only in Egypt, but also among the Persians, the next neighbors to these Armenians, who might very easily borrow from them this piece of barbarous cruelty. Theodorus Lector says, that the emperor Anastasius having built the city of Duras in Mesopotamia in 508, caused the relics of St. Bartholomew to be removed thither. Saint Gregory of Tours assures us that, before the end of the sixth age they were carried to the isle of Lipari near Sicily. Anastasius the Librarian informs us7 that, in 809, they were translated from Lipari to Benevento; from whence they were conveyed to Rome in 983, as Baronius relates. Ever since that time they lie deposited in a porphyry monument under the high altar, in the famous church at St. Bartholomew, in the isle of the Tiber, in Rome. An arm of this apostle’s body was sent a present by the bishop of Benevento to St. Edward the Confessor, and by him bestowed on the cathedral church of Canterbury. Among the many excellent statues which adorn the cathedral at Milan, none is more justly admired than one of St. Bartholomew flayed alive, representing the muscles, veins, and other parts, with an inimitable softness and justness, the work of Chr. Cibo. The feast of St. Bartholomew in ancient Martyrologies is marked on the 24th of August in the West, but among the Greeks on the 11th of June.

The characteristical virtue of the apostles was zeal for the divine glory; the first property of the love of God. A soldier is always ready to defend the honor of his prince, and a son that of his father; and can a Christian say he loves God, who is indifferent to his honor? Or can charity towards his neighbor be lodged in his breast, if he can see him in danger of perishing, and not endeavor, at least by tears and prayers, to avert his misfortune? Every faithful servant of God makes the first petition which our Lord teaches us in his divine prayer, the object of his perpetual ardent desires and tears, that the God of his heart, and of all creatures, may be known, perfectly loved, and faithfully served by all; and he never ceases earnestly to invite, with the royal prophet, all creatures with their whole strength, and with all their powers, to magnify the Lord with him; but then it is the first part of his care and prayer that he may himself perfectly attain to this happiness of devoting to God all the affections of his soul, and all the actions of his life; and it is to him a subject of perpetual tears and compunction that he should have ever offended so good a God, and so kind a Redeemer.

AUGUST 24 — THE MARTYRS OF UTICA CALLED THE WHITE MASS

In the persecution of Valerian, in the year 258, the proconsul of Africa went from Carthage to Utica, and commanded all the Christians who were detained in the prisons of that city to be brought before him. St. Austin says their number amounted to one hundred and fifty-three. The proconsul had ordered a great pit of burning lime to be prepared in a field, and by it an altar of idols with salt and hog’s liver placed on it ready for sacrifice. He caused his tribunal to be erected near this place in the open air, and he gave the prisoners their choice either to be thrown into this pit of burning lime, or to offer sacrifice to the idols which were set by it. They unanimously chose the first, and were all consumed together in the furnace. Their ashes were afterward taken out, and as they made up but one common mass cemented with the lime, these martyrs were called The White Mass. See St. Austin, Serm. 306, p. 1239, t. 5, and in Ps. 49, n. 9, and in Ps. 144, t. 4, p. 1621; also Prudentius, De Cor. Hymn. 13, aliàs 5, v. 80.

AUGUST 24 — ST. QUEN OR AUDOEN, ARCHBISHOP OF ROUEN, C

He was otherwise called Dadon, and was son of Autaire, a virtuous French nobleman, who was settled in Brie. St. Columban being courteously entertained by him, gave his blessing to his two sons, Ouen and Adon, then in their infancy. Autaire placed them both, during their youth, in the court of king Clotaire II., where they contracted a friendship with St. Eloi, and by his example conceived a great contempt for the world, and both resolved to devote themselves to the service of God. Adon executed his design some time after, and founded, upon an estate which he had near the river Marne, the double monastery of Jouarre, then called Jotrum, which he endowed with his own estate. It is at present a Benedictine nunnery. St. Ouen was in great creoit with king Clotaire II., and with his son and successor Dagobert I., who made him keeper of his seal, in quality of his referendary or chan cellor; and original acts signed by him by virtue of this office are still extant. He obtained of the king a grant of a piece of land situated in the forest of Brie, between the greater and lesser Morin; where, in 634, he erected a monastery called, from the brook near which it stands, Resbac, at present Rebais. By the advice of St. Faro, bishop of Meaux, he sent for St. Agil, a disciple of St. Columban, and got him appointed the first abbot by a council held at Clichi in 636; but in this he was forced to make use of the king’s authority; for the cities of Metz, Langres, and Besançon, had at the same time requested St. Agil to be their bishop, and the monks of Luxeu desired to have him for their abbot. St. Ouen would have retired himself to Rebais, there to embrace a monastic life; but king Dagobert and his nobles could by no means be induced to give their consent. St. Ouen and St. Eloi, though yet laymen, were, for their zeal, piety, and learning, considered as oracles even of the bishops, and they exceedingly promoted the cause of religion and virtue through the whole kingdom. Dagobert dying in 638, Clovis II., his son and successor, testified the same esteem for St. Ouen, and continued him for some time in the office of referendary, by virtue of which all the letters and edicts of the king were brought to him, and he put the king’s seal upon them, says Aymoinus. At length this prince was prevailed upon to give St. Ouen leave to receive the clerical tonsure, and he was shortly after elected archbishop of Rouen, in the room of St. Romanus; and at the same time his friend St. Eloi was chosen bishop of Noyon and Tournay. They took a considerable time to prepare themselves for this dignity by retirement, rigorous fasting, and prayer, and received the episcopal consecration together at Rheims in 640.

St. Ouen in this new dignity increased, not his pomp, but his humility austerities, and charities. His zeal was indefatigable, and, by his affability and patience, he was truly all to all. He exerted his zeal in extirpating simony and other abuses, and promoted everywhere the reformation of discipline, especially in the third council of Chalons in 644. King Theodoric III. employed him in many charitable and important commissions, especially in pacifying those that were at variance, and in calming seditions. The saint having procured a peace between the French in Austrasia and Neustria, went to carry the news thereof to king Theodoric at Clichi near Paris, where an assembly of prelates and lords was held; and falling there sick of a fever, he besought the king that St. Ansbert, abbot of Fontenelle, who was the king’s confessor, and whom the clergy and people of Rouen desired to have for their pastor, should succeed him. He died at Clichi, in great sentiments of holy compunction and joy on the 24th of August, in 683, having possessed the episcopal dignity forty-three years. See his life in Surius, and another more ancient in the Bollandists, p. 805, also I’Histoire de Rouen, t. 1, part 3, p. 136, and Du-Plessis, Hist. de Meaux, p. 34, 45, and 47. See a long history of miracles performed by the intercession and relics of St. Ouen, written by the monk Fulbert in 1066; also the poem of Thierri, the learned monk of St. Ouen, in 1050, upon the life of this saint in F. du Moustier’s Neustria Pia, p. 23, 72–846. Henschenius confounded St. Ouen with St. Owin, a monk of Litchfield, when he ascribed his life to an English writer of the tenth age, named Fridegorius, as Dom Rivet observes, t. 8, p. 636. On his translations and miracles, see Martène, Anecd. t. 3, Col. 1669.

AUGUST 24 — S. IRCHARD OR ERTHAD, BISHOP, C. IN SCOTLAND

St. Palladius sent Servanus to preach to the northern islands of Orkney and Saint Ternan bishop to the Picts, who is titular saint of the cathedral o Abernethe, and many other churches. St. Irchard was bishop of the Picts abou the same time according to some Scottish historians; but more probably, according to others, about the reign of Malcolm I. See the Breviary of Aberdeen, and Cuper the Bollandist, p. 773.

AUGUST 25 — ST. LOUIS, KING OF FRANCE

From his life, written by the lord of Joinville, seneschal or chief justice, treasurer, and general of Cham pagne, who attended him in his first crusade. His History of St. Louis is written with the most agreeable, natural simplicity, which has justly procured him the title of Naïf. The best edition is that published by Du Cange, and printed in Cramoisy, In 1668, in folio. Also from the life of this saint compiled by Geoffrey of Beaulieu, a Dominican friar, who was his confessor during twenty years; and another life written by William of Chartres, also a Dominican, his chaplain; and William de Nangis, a monk of St. Denis, In 1320, who wrote the lives of St. Louis and his son and successor Philip III. See his modern life compiled in two volumes by Mons. de la Chaise, from memoirs prepared by Sacy, or rather by Tillemont. See also Fontenal and Brumoi, Hist. de l’Eglise de Fr. t. 11.

A. D. 1270.

IN the person of St. Louis IX. were eminently united the qualities which form a great king and a perfect hero, no less than those which make up the character of a wonderful saint. Endowed with all qualifications for government, he excelled equally in the arts of peace and in those of war; and his courage, intrepidity, and greatness of mind received from his virtue the highest lustre; for ambition, or a view to his own glory, had no share in his great enterprises, his only motive in them being religion, zeal for the glory of God, or the good of his subjects. Though the two crusades in which he was engaged, were attended with ill success, he is certainly to be ranked among the most valiant princes, and understood war the best of any general of the age in which he lived; in the most dangerous battles which he fought, he beat the enemy, how much soever superior to him in numbers and strength; and his afflictions set his piety and virtue in the brightest light.

This great king was son of Louis VIII., and was eight years old when the death of his grandfather Philip II., surnamed Augustus, put his father, who was then in the thirty-sixth year of his age, in possession of the crown of France, in 1223. The saint was born at Poïssey, in the diocess of Chartres, on the 25th of April, 1215; and, because he had been there raised to the dignity of a Christian by the grace of baptism, he afterward honored this place above others, to show how much he esteemed this spiritual dignity above that of his temporal crown. He made this his favorite place, took singular pleasure in bestowing charities, and doing other good actions there, and in his familiar letters and private transactions, several copies whereof are still extant, he signed himself Lewis of Poïssy. His mother was Blanche, daughter to Alphonsus IX., or as some call him VIII., King of Castile, the great conquerer, who in the battle of Muradal defeated Mahomet Emir called the Green, with an army of above two hundred thousand Moors. She was a princess of extraordinary beauty and prudence, was endued with zeal for religion and other virtues, and had great talents for government. Some have charged her with ambition and craft; but others call these accusations mere slanders, raised by her enemies during her regency. To her care and attention in the education of Saint Louis, we are Indebted, under God, for the great example of his virtues. From his birth she would never suffer him to suck any other breasts but her own, and gave all possible attention to every part of his education, and that of her other children. By her care he was perfectly master of the Latin tongue, learned to speak in public, and to write with elegance, grace and dignity, and was instructed in the art of war, the wisest maxims of government, and all the accomplishments of a king. He was a good historian, and often read the works of the Fathers. It was his mother’s first care to instil into his tender soul the highest esteem and awe for everything that regarded the divine worship, the strongest sentiments of religion and virtue, and a particular love of holy chastity. She used often to say to him, when he was a child: “I love you, my dear son, with all the tenderness a mother is capable of; but I would infinitely rather see you fall down dead at my feet, than that you should ever commit a mortal sin.” The king frequently said to others, that the strong impression which this important lesson made on his mind, was never effaced during his whole life, and that no day passed in which it did not recur, and excite him vigorously to arm himself afresh against all snares and danger of surprise. He was placed very young on the throne.*

Louis VIII. died on the 7th of November, 1226. Blanche, the queen mother, was declared regent for her son who was then only twelve years old. To prevent seditions, she hastened the ceremony of his coronation, which was performed at Rheims, on the first Sunday of Advent, by the bishop of Soissons, the archbishopric of Rheims being then vacant. The young knight did not look upon this action as a mere ceremony, but prepared himself by the most fervent exercises of devotion, in order to move God to accompany the exterior unction which he then received, with the invisible anointing of his grace, by which he might be made truly the anointed of the Lord. He considered the pomp of that day with fear and humility, saying to God in his heart with David: To thee, O Lord, have I raised my soul; and in thee do I place my confidence. He trembled in taking the coronation oath, begging of God resolution, light, and strength, to employ his authority, according to his obligations, only for the divine honor, the defence of the church, and the good of his people. Several of the greatest lords of the kingdom, thinking to lay hold of the opportunity of the king’s minority, entered into a confederacy together, and made many extravagant demands. None of these princes would be present at the coronation, and they appeared in arms soon after it was over. The chief were Philip, count of Boulogne, a natural son of Philip Augustus; Peter of Dreux, a prince of the royal blood, who was also count of Brittany, having married the daughter of Constantia, countess of Brittany, after the death of count Arthur, whom our king John is accused of having murdered; Hugh of Lusignan, count of La March, who, after the death of king John, had married his widow, who had been queen of England, and was therefore called the countess queen; but the most powerful of all these lords was Theobald, or Thibault, count of Champagne, afterward also king of Navarre.* The queen regent put herself and son at the head of his troops, and finding means to bring over the count of Champagne to his duty, struck the rest with such consternation, that they all retired. They were soon after again in arms, and would have seized the king’s person near Orleans, had not the count of Champagne given the regent notice, and the whole country taken arms to escort him hastily to Paris. The whole time of the king’s minority was disturbed by these rebels; but the regent, by several alliances and negotiations, and chiefly by her courage and diligence, by which she always prevented them in the field, continually dissipated their cabals. By her generals, she pushed on the war against the Albigenses; and, in the third year of her regency, obliged Raymund, count of Toulouse, and duke of Narbonne, to receive her conditions; these were, that he should marry his daughter Jane to Alphonsus, the king’s brother, who should inherit the county of Toulouse, and that in case they should have no children by this marriage, that whole inheritance should revert to the crown; which accordingly happened. Henry III., king of England, had not taken advantage of these disturbances in France, to recover what his father had lost in Aquitain, which some attributed to his irresolution, and to the counsels of his favorite, Robert of Burgh or Burk. In 1230 he sailed into Brittany, to succor the count, who was pressed by the regent, but he undertook nothing; and being returned to London in 1231, he concluded a truce between the two crowns for three years, and Peter, count of Brittany, threw himself at the feet of king Louis with a rope about his neck, and obtained his pardon, engaging to serve five years in Palestine at his own expense. Louis rejoiced in his victories only because he saw he had procured by them the advantages of peace to his subjects. He was merciful even to rebels; and, by his readiness to receive any proposals of agreement, gave the most evident proofs that he neither sought revenge nor conquests by his arms. Never had any man a greater love for the church, of a greater veneration for its ministers than this good king; yet this was not blind; and he opposed the injustices of bishops, when he saw them betrayed into any, and he listened not to their complaints till he had given a full hearing to the other party, as he showed in the violent contests of the bishops of Beauvais and Metz with the corporations of those cities.

Pope Gregory IX. (who had succeeded Honorius III.), in the broils which the emperor Frederic II. had raised about the investitures of bishops, wrote to St. Louis that he had deprived Frederic of the empire, and had proposed Robert, the king’s brother, in his place. But the king showed no other regard to those letters than to interest himself in procuring a reconciliation of the emperor to the holy see. Gregory IX. died in 1241, and Celestine IV., who succeeded him, filled the pontifical throne only eighteen days. After him cardinal Fieschi, a Genoese, was elected under the name of Innocent IV., in whose time these struggles were the most dangerous; with which St. Louis never interfered but to sue for peace.

This good king never thought himself so happy as when he enjoyed the conversation of some priests or religious men of eminent sanctity; and he often invited such to his royal table. He appeared at the foot of the altars more humble and recollected than the most devout hermit, and he allotted several hours in the day to prayer. When some people said of him that he spent too much time in his usual devotions, he only answered, that if he employed that time in hunting, tournaments, gaming, or plays, they would not take so exact an account of the time which he lost at them. He hardly allowed himself any time for diversion, and so great was his temperance and mortification, that he had the art of practising it with great austerity, amidst the dainties of a royal table. Amongst other rules which for this purpose he privately prescribed to himself, it was observed that he never touched any fruit when it was first served in a season, and was extremely ingenious in abstaining often from dainties, and in practising self-denials, without being taken notice of; by such means shunning the dangers of offending by intemperance, making the exercise of penance familiar and easy, and keeping his senses always docile to reason, and under government. Yet, how much Christian severity soever he exercised upon himself, his virtue never made him morose. He was extremely humane, and very agreeable in conversation. The inward peace of his mind, and the joy with which his pure soul overflowed from the presence of the Holy Ghost, enhanced the natural liveliness and cheerfulness of his temper. Coming from his closet, or from the church, he in a moment appeared conversing upon business; or at the head of an army, with the countenance of a hero fighting battles, enduring the greatest fatigues, and daring the most alarming dangers. He knew how to observe seasons, but with a decent liberty. Once when a certain friar had started a grave religious subject at table, he agreeably turned the discourse to another subject saying: “All things have their time.” His discourse at such times was cheerful without levity or impertinence, and instructive without stiffness or austerity. He celebrated feasts and rejoicings on the creation of knights, and other such public occasions, with great magnificence, some of which Joinville has given us a description of; but he banished from his court all diversions which are dangerous to morals. As for himself he gave the greatest part of his time to the business of the state, and his devotion never in the least took off his care of the government. He was exact in holding councils, often gave both public and private audiences, and sometimes to people of the lowest rank; and was indefatigable in applying himself to the regulation of his army and kingdom. He was naturally bountiful. Nothing was more edifying than his sweetness, his moderation in dress and equipage, and the Christian humility in which he exercised himself more than in any other virtue, and which he practised more particularly towards the poor, often serving them at table, washing their feet, and visiting them in she hospitals. Such actions, when blended with certain faults, and degraded by an inconsistency, or meanness of conduct, would bring contempt upon persons of high rank; but they were done by our saint with so perfect and sincere humility and charity, and supported with such admirable dignity, that they had an opposite effect upon the minds of his nobles and people, and it is the remark of William de Nangis, that there never was seen more submission paid to a sovereign than this great king met with from all ranks after his subjects had experienced his virtue, and the happiness of his government; and that it continued all the rest of his reign.

Modesty, the most amiable of virtues, was not the least part of our saint’s character. It was such in him, that its awful sovereignty, which appeared in his very blushes, sufficed to check all loose thoughts in others. He was a lover of music and singing; but if any one, in a song or otherwise, let slip the least indecent word before him, he was for ever banished his presence. When it was expedient for the king to marry, the most virtuous lady was his choice. This was Margaret, the eldest daughter of Raymund Berenger, count of Provence, of which sovereignty his ancestors had received the investiture from the emperors of Germany. They were descended from the counts of Barcelona, who were a younger family of the royal house of Arragon. This count’s second daughter, Eleanor, was married to Henry III., king of England; his third, Sancia, to his brother Richard, afterward king of the Romans; and Beatrice, the fourth and youngest, to Charles, brother to St. Louis, to whom she brought for her dower the county of Provence. Margaret, the eldest, surpassed the rest in beauty, wit, and her extraordinary piety and virtue. St. Louis met her at Sens, where the marriage was celebrated on the 27th of May, 1234. God blessed it with a constant happy union of hearts, and an offspring which has given kings to France ever since. They imitated young Toby in their preparation for this state, and always observed continency in Lent, all other fast-days, all festivals, and in other seasons prescribed by the ancient canons, which St. Charles Borromæo, and the Roman catechism order to be recommended, though by disuse they are not now esteemed as precepts, but counsels.1 King Louis being before inured to government, took the reins into his own hands in April, 1236, having completed the twenty-first year of his age.* But he continued to show the greatest deference to his mother, and still to govern by her counsels, which were always wise and virtuous. He had every day regular hours for reciting the divine office, and for his other devotions, in which he was constant and exact. He wore a hair cloth, often used disciplines, and went to confession two or three times a week. The first monument of piety which he erected was the abbey of Royaumont. His father had ordered in his will that the price of his jewels should be laid out in founding a monastery. St. Louis very much increased that sum, and made the foundation truly royal and magnificent. Out of devotion he sometimes worked with his own hands in building the church. This was afterward one of those places to which he frequently retired to breathe the air of holy solitude, and to attend to God with more perfect recollection of soul. He founded the Chartreuse at Paris, to which he gave the palace of Vauvert; and he built many other religious places and hospitals.

Baldwin II. the Latin emperor of Constantinople in 1239, made St. Louis (in gratitude for his great largesses to the Christians in Palestine, and other parts of the East) a present of the holy crown of thorns, which was formerly kept in the imperial palace, but was then put in the hands of the Venetians, as a pledge for a considerable loan of money borrowed of them, which the saint discharged. He sent two Dominican friars to bring this sacred treasure into France; and met it himself five leagues beyond Sens, attended with his whole court, and a numerous clergy. He and his brother Robert, walking barefoot, carried it into that city, and after the same manner into Paris, in a most pompous and devout procession, all the streets being magnificently adorned. The king deposited it in the old chapel of St. Nicholas, in his own palace in Paris; but gave some thorns of it to the church of Toledo, to that of the Franciscans at Seez, and to the abbey of St. Eloi, near Arras. The abbey of St. Denis was possessed of some before this time, as Rigord, the physician and historian of Philip Augustus, testifies in his reign. In 1241 St. Louis received from Constantinople, with other precious Relics, a very large piece of the true cross, probably the same which St. Helen brought thither from Jerusalem. The year following, he pulled down the chapel of St. Nicholas in his palace, and built, on the same spot, that which is now called, from these relics, the Holy Chape1.2 It is justly admired for the elegance, correctness, and sumptuous finishings of the architecture, and cost in building forty thousand livres, which, according to the most probable estimation, would amount, at this time, to the sum of eight hundred thousand livres, says F. Fontenai,3 that is, about forty thousand pounds sterling.* The chapel was dedicated with great solemnity, and the holy king, when he resided at Paris, used to spend a considerable part of his time, and sometimes to pass whole nights in it in prayer, which he also frequently did in a favorite private chapel in the Chateau de Vincennes. In 1242 queen Blanche founded the nunnery of Maubussion, designing, at that time, to put on a habit of penance, and divest herself of her royal robes, before she should be stripped of them by death. Her son would needs contribute to this foundation, that he might have a share in her good work. His frugal manner of living, his economy, and his care to retrench everything which he did not owe to the dignity of his crown, supplied him always with abundant resources when charity or religion called for any extraordinary expenses. When we consider his devotion, and take a view in detail of his religious exercises, we are not to imagine that on this account he forgot any part of the care which he owed to the state. He was too well apprised that piety must be false which neglects any duty which we owe to others or to ourselves; and the same motive which animated him in the churches, made him most diligent in every branch of his high charge, and was not only the strongest spur to diligence, but also the greatest assistance and support in all his secular employments.

Several ordinances of this good prince, still extant, are so many monuments which show us how much he applied himself to see justice well administered. It is his eulogium, in this respect, that in succeeding reigns, whenever complaints were raised among the people, the cry of those that were dissatisfied was only to demand that abuses should be reformed, and justice impartially administered, as was done in the reign of St. Louis. In 1230, he, by severe laws, forbade all manner of usury, and restrained the Jews in particular from practising it, by many rigorous clauses. He afterward compelled them to restore what they had exacted by that iniquitous oppression, and where the creditors could not be found, to give such gains towards the holy war, which Gregory IX. was endeavoring to set on foot. He published an ordinance, commanding all who should be guilty of blasphemy to be marked upon the lips, some say upon the forehead, with a red hot iron; and he caused this to be executed on a rich citizen of Paris, a person of great consideration; and to some of his courtiers who murmured at this severity, he said that he would rather undergo that punishment himself, than omit anything that might put a stop to so horrible a crime, as William of Nangis tells us.* Some moderns say he ordered the tongues of blasphemers to be bored through; but this is not mentioned by contemporary writers. The king set himself to protect vassals from the oppression of the lords, and took such effectual methods, that they were delivered from the hardest part of their servitude. When Engueran de Coucy, one of the greatest lords in Flanders, had hanged three children for hunting rabbits in his woods, the king caused him to be imprisoned in the castle of the Louvre, and to be tried, not by his peers, as he demanded, but, as a flaw was found in his peerage, by the ordinary judges, who condemned him to death. He afterward spared his life, at the earnest suit of the peers of his realm, but subjected him to an amercement which deprived him of the greater part of his estates. This money the king ordered to be employed partly in building and endowing two chapels, in which mass should be said for ever for the souls of the three children; partly in founding several hospitals, and two monasteries of Franciscans and Dominicans in Paris. He forbade enfeoffed lords ever to make war upon one another, which custom had been the occasion of continual bloodshed and disorders. The scholars and doctors of the university of Paris, upon a complaint of an infraction of their privileges by the execution of certain students for murder, forsook the university for two years. When mutual animosities were worked up to the highest pitch, the prudence of St. Louis appeased them to the satisfaction of both parties. In like manner, when the count of La Marche, and several other princes, were set out with an armed force, to lay the city of Orleans in ashes, on revenge for a sedition and the murder of some students, the king, by his Admirable sweetness, wisdom, and justice, stopped their fury, and gave satisfaction to all parties. His scrupulous fidelity in inviolably keeping his word and observing all treaties, gave him infinite advantages in all negotiations, and other affairs over his adversaries, who often, by frivolous evasions, eluded their most solemn oaths and engagements. The reputation of his impartial and inflexible integrity, made all parties, and often foreign kings, rejoice to have him for their judge and arbitrator, and put their affairs into his hands. Joinville assures us that he was the wisest and best head in his council Upon all sudden emergencies he resolved the most knotty difficulties readily and prudently.

During the minority of this good prince the kingdom was entangled in many domestic broils, and distracted with intestine seditions and wars in every part, insomuch, that it seems a miracle of providence that the queen, with all her prudence and diligence, should have been able to preserve the state entire, or that the king should be able afterward to compose and settle it in the manner he did, reigning for some years with his sword always in his hand, yet almost without bloodshed. Frederic II., the impious and faithless emperor of Germany, though he often broke his engagements with St. Louis, as well as with other powers, could never provoke him to war, so dexterous was the saint in maintaining both his honor and his interests without it. Indeed, being exempt from those passions which usually blow the coals, he had an uncommon advantage in the pursuit of justice and necessary defence; and, whilst his magnanimity and foresight kept him always in readiness, his love of peace inclined him rather to sacrifice petty considerations than to see one drop of Christian blood spilt, if possible.

He was extremely careful, in his engagements with other princes, never to be drawn into their quarrels, though he used all possible good offices to reconcile their differences. In his wars to reduce rebels, he caused the damages which innocent persons had received even by his enemy’s forces, to be diligently inquired into, and full restitution to be made for them. The count of La Marche and Xaintogne, whose estates were a fief of Poitou, refused to pay homage to the count of Poitiers, the brother of St. Louis, through the instigation of his wife Isabel, the widow of the late king John, and mother of Henry III., then king of England, whom she called over to support his independency. The king of France marched against the count of La Marche, and took Fontenai, in which he made the governor, who was the count of La Marche’s son, prisoner, with forty knights. Some advised the king to hang them as rebels, or at least the governor; but this counsel he rejected with horror, saying, the son had been obliged to obey his father. He defeated King Henry III. (who was never born to be a soldier) at Taillebourg upon the Charente, and the city of Saintes opened its gates to him in 1242. He again vanquished the count of La Marche, who thereupon made his submission. Henry III. fled to Bourdeaux, and the next year returned to England, having made a truce with the French, for which he obliged himself to pay them five thousand pounds sterling in five years. The counsellors of St. Louis called it bad policy that he neglected that opportunity of conquering Guienne, and driving the English out of all France. But his views were very opposite, as appeared after his first Crusade, when he concluded a peace with the English in 1258. On this occasion he yielded to England Limousin, Quercy, and Perigord, and the reversion of Agenois and Xaintogne; king Henry III. renouncing, on his side, all pretensions to Normandy, Anjou, Maine, Touraine, and Poitou. The French called the delicacy of their king’s conscience a scrupulosity which was contrary to good policy. But to satisfy them, he answered he did not doubt but king John had justly forfeited those dominions, for refusing to clear himself of the charge brought against him for the murder of his nephew Arthur, count of Brittany; but that he hoped by this cession to cement a lasting peace between the two nations, and that it was very honorable to his crown to have so great a king for vassal. In like manner, to satisfy his conscience as to some territories in Languedoc, to which the kings of Arragon pretended a right which they founded upon alliances by marriages, he came to an agreement with James 50, king of Arragon, in 1254, by which that prince renounced for himself and his successors all pretensions to any territories situated in Languedoc and Provence, and Louis made a like renunciation with regard to Barcelona, and many other lordships in Arragon, to which the French then laid claim.

At this time the barbarians raised great commotions in the East. A band of desperate Saracen ruffians in the mountains of Phœnicia, obeyed one whose dignity was elective, and who was called the Ancient of the Mountain, or Prince of the Assassins. He had men among his banditti always ready to execute his orders in any part of the world, and to poison or stab whomsoever he should point out to them as obstructing the propagation of the Mahometan superstition. Hearing much of the power and zeal of St. Louis before he had taken the cross, he sent two resolute soldiers disguised into France, with an order to assassinate the king. St. Louis, by the special providence of God, was advertised of this hellish design, and the assassins being apprehended, he courteously sent them home to their master. This visible protection of heaven was a new motive to make him redouble his piety and fervor. The great conqueror in Great and Little Tartary, and the Indies, named Gingis Chan, or king of kings, after he had vanquished the famous Tartar prince called Ung Chan, who is thought to have been the Nestorian king who was surnamed Prester-jan, and was in priest’s orders, formed an extravagant design of subduing the whole world to his empire. Some of his successors pursued the same; and in this view, Octaï, one of them, sent out three numberless swarms of Tartar forces, which spread desolation through Hungary, Poland, and Bohemia, and filled all Europe with dread and consternation. Queen Blanche, and the whole French nation trembled; the king alone was undaunted, and said cheerfully to his mother, expressing the true motive of his confidence, “Madam, what have we to fear? If these barbarians come to us, we shall either be conquerors, or shall die martyrs?” By the resolution with which he spoke this, he calmed the alarms of his mother, and of the whole state. Whilst he was preparing for his first crusade, he received a haughty letter from this Octaï, who styled himself the Immortal, pretended that his Tartars were the sons of men to whom the whole earth was promised, and required that he should deliver up his kingdom into his hands, and receive laws from him. But of this insolence the good king took no notice. Our saint afterward sent persons into Great Tartary to inform him of the true situation of religion in those vast countries, and hearing that a daughter of Prester-jan was a zealous Christian, with some others, he entreated the pope to confer episcopal orders on certain Dominican and Franciscan friars, and to send them with proper faculties into those parts; for which mission he furnished the expenses. But the progress of the arms of the Mahometans in the Holy Land was what chiefly drew the attention of this zealous king.* An extraordinary accident gave occasion to his undertaking in person a holy war for the relief of the Christians in those parts.

In the year 1244 St. Louis was seized at Pontoise with a violent dysentery and fever, which soon seemed to have brought him to the very brink of the grave. The grief and consternation into which this accident cast the whole kingdom, and the ardor with which all persons solicited heaven by their vows, tears, and almsdeeds for the life of their good king, are not to be expressed. The distemper still increasing, he fell into convulsions, and afterward into a coma, and a kind of trance, in which he lay some days in such a condition that he was judged already dead; and his face would have been covered, had not a lady prevented it, affirming she perceived him still to breathe a little. Then the piece of the true cross and other relics that had been sent him by the emperor Baldwin, were brought to his bedside, and applied to his body. Soon after this he recovered from his insensibility, began to move his arms and legs, and spoke with some difficulty. By his first words he expressed his resolution to take the cross, as the badge of enrolling himself to serve in the holy war, and calling for William, the bishop of Paris, who was present, he desired him to receive his vow for that expedition, and to put the badge of the cross on his shoulder. At this the two queens, his mother and wife, fell at his feet weeping, and the bishops of Paris and Meaux, by his bedside with others, conjured him that he would not entertain such a thought. But he was not by any means to be satisfied, and gave great signs of joy in receiving the cross, which the bishop of Paris gave him with tears. The king continued still in a lingering state of health for some time, but in the beginning of the following year grew stronger than he had been before his illness. He then renewed his vow, and, by letters, assured the Christians in Palestine that he would make all possible haste to their assistance. But the preparations for such an expedition, and the settling of his kingdom, obliged him to defer his departure for two years and a half. He built a new seaport at Aiguesmortes, upon the Mediterranean, made several donations to religious places, and commanded a diligent inquiry to be made over all his dominions into the grievances of particular persons, all complaints to be received, and ample restitution to be made to every one who should even seem to have suffered any injustice or prejudice through his officers, magistrates, or judges; and by this means much restitution was made through all the provinces of his kingdom.

At that time the king suffered a great loss by the death of William, the most learned, wise, and pious bishop of Paris, who governed that see from 1228 to 1245. He had exceedingly promoted the studies in that university, and his works, which have been several times reprinted, in two volumes, are standing monuments of his great judgment, piety, and erudition. He had thoroughly read and digested the holy scriptures, and very well understood Aristotle and Plato, the latter of whom he often prefers to the former. In his writings, in a plain, intelligible style, he keeps close to what concerns morality, discipline, and piety, and does not run out upon metaphysical notions like many divines of his time.

In 1245 pope Innocent IV. retired from Italy to Lyons in France, which was at that time a free city, subject to its own archbishop, though held in fief of the emperor. This city seemed to him the most secure place, it being most remote from the arms of the emperor Frederic II., from whom he had already suffered much, and had everything to fear. Here he assembled that year the first general council of Lyons, in which he summoned Frederic to appear; and, upon his refusal, accused him of having often broken his word and his oath; of having arrested and imprisoned several bishops who were going to Rome to a council called by Gregory IX.; of having obstructed the regular elections of pastors, robbed the churches, invaded their possessions, and those of the holy see; of having made a league with the Saracens, and made use of them in his armies against Christians. For these irregularities, and because he refused to make satisfaction, the pope pronounced against him a sentence of excommunication and deposition. St. Louis, to whom strong application was made both by the emperor and pope, endeavored to reconcile them; and as he, with many others, disapproved of the step which the latter had taken, so he very much condemned Frederic’s injustices and passionate behaviour.4 He was better pleased with the measures taken by the pope in this council for the holy war, to which his holiness allotted the twentieth part of all the revenues for benefices for three years, and the tenth of the revenues for the apostolic see and of the cardinals. Three of the king’s brothers took the cross to accompany him, Alphonsus count of Poitiers, Robert count of Artois, and Charles count of Anjou and Provence; as did also Peter count of Brittany, Hugh duke of Burgundy. William of Dampiere count of Flanders, Hugh of Lusignan count of La Marche, the counts of Dreux, Bar, Soissons, Retel, Vendome, Montfort, and a great number of other lords. The king declared his mother Blanche regent of the kingdom; but the queen consort would absolutely bear him company. The king went to the abbey of St. Denis to take the Oriflame,* and set sail from Aiguesmortes, with his fleet, on the 27th of August, 1248, towards Cyprus, where he had caused large magazines to be laid up. He arrived there in three weeks, and held a great council concerning the operations of the expedition. The Christians had still in Palestine and Syria four principalities, namely, that of Acre or Ptolemais, that of Tripoli, that of Tyre, and that of Antioch. Saladin had dismantled the city of Jerusalem; from which time it had fallen again sometimes into the hands of the Christians, whenever they happened to be stronger in the field. At that time the Corasmins, the most fierce and warlike of all the Mahometan nations, were masters of it. They had been driven out of their own country, probably that of Coarsem, by an incursion of Tartars; and Saleh, sultan of Egypt, taking twenty thousand of them into his pay, promised them the plunder and lands they could win of the Christians in Palestine. They defeated and massacred them in many places, especially at Jerusalem, which city they found in the hands of the Christians, who had never since recovered it. These rapacious barbarians had spared nothing even in the churches, but had sent the richest vessels and ornaments to the tomb of their false prophet Mahomet. Saladin had been succeeded in Egypt by his eldest son, Eladel, and in Syria by his younger, called Elaziz, who was slain with his family by his uncle Sephradin, who made himself sultan of Syria or Aleppo. But in the time of this expedition of St. Louis, Ismael was sultan of Aleppo, who, being alarmed at the great power of the Egyptian sultan, became an ally of the Christians. In Egypt Eladel had been succeeded by Elchamul, and he by Melech-Saleh, in whose reign St. Louis arrived in Cyprus. The holy king passed the winter in that island, being honorably received by king Henry of Lusignan. He determined to attack the sultan of Egypt, who at that time threatened to swallow up all Palestine; he therefore sent him from Cyprus a declaration of war, unless he consented to restore the lands he had unjustly seized in Palestine. Saleh, who was sick with a sore in one of his legs which threatened a mortification, wept as he read this letter, but sent back a haughty answer, and made all preparations possible for war. He employed spies to poison the victualling-houses of the Christian army; but they were discovered, and confessed the fact. William, the valiant earl of Salisbury, surnamed Long-sword, brought to St. Louis in Cyprus, two hundred gallant English knights. The lord of Joinville, his historian, joined him there with a fresh reinforcement from France. The king’s fleet consisted of one hundred and twenty great vessels, and one thousand six hundred and fifty small ones, carrying on board twelve thousand eight hundred French, English, and Cypriot knights, and above sixty thousand chosen soldiers.*

After having waited eight months in Cyprus, the fleet put to sea on Trinity Sunday, and though a violent storm had dispersed several of the ships, they arrived in four days before Damiata, a strong fortress of Egypt, situated in an island formed by two of the mouths of the Nile, and built upon the eastern channel, on the shore opposite to the ruins of the ancient Pelusium. The sultan had filled the Nile with his fleet, and lined the shore with a numerous army, appearing himself at their head. At this sight of the Saracens St. Louis cried out, “Who am I but a wretched man, whose life belongs to God! He hath a sovereign right to dispose of it as it pleaseth him. Whether we are conquerors or martyrs we shall glorify him either by the prosperity of our arms, or by the sacrifice of our lives.” The fear of a storm rising in a place whore they had no port to shelter them, determined the king to make a descent the next morning, which was Friday, though the vessels which had been dispersed were not yet come up. The next day the sultan, finding his sickness much increased, had ordered himself to be carried to a house of pleasure, a league above Damiata. The vessels in the centre, in which was Joinville, were carried the swiftest, and the men landed safe; then they covered themselves with their bucklers, and presented the point of their lances, which were in that age very long. The Saracen horse came upon the gallop towards them, but durst not attempt to break the kind of rampart which their lances formed. The left wing, commanded by the count of Jaffe, and the right, in which the king was, being all prosperously got or shore, and in good order, the whole army marched towards the Saracens, who made a stand; but having lost the governor of Damiata, and two emirs, took to their heels, and their fleet sailed up the Nile. The inhabitants and garrison of Damiata were in the utmost consternation upon a report that the sultan was dead, and, setting fire to the place, fled. The French immediately took possession of that strong city, and put out the fire. The king, full of pious and religious sentiments, made his entry, not with the pomp of a conqueror, but with the humility of a truly Christian prince, walking barefoot with the queen, the princes his brothers, the king of Cyprus, and other great lords, preceded by the legate, the patriarch of Jerusalem, the bishops, and all the clergy of the camp. Returning humble thanks to God, they went in this manner to the principal mosque, which the legate purified and consecrated with the usual ceremonies of the Churcn, dedicating it under the name of the Mother of God. The sultan, though half dead, in his rage commanded fifty-four captains of the garrison to be hanged upon the spot; then was carried up the eastern channel of the Nile to Massour or Mazour, a city which his father had built in the midway betwixt Damiata and Grand Cairo; and was followed by his army. The Nile begins to rise in May, from the rains which fall in the torrid zone on the north side of the equator, as the sun, which raises thick clouds under it, departs from that point of the zodiac; from the same cause the flood of this river continues from June to the middle of September. This, and the excessive heats, obliged the Christian army to stay till the end of summer at Damiata. The king, to prevent as much as possible all plunders and injustices, took all care possible that such crimes should be strictly inquired into and punished, and that sample restitution should be made for any such that should happen to be committed. Not content to have given this severe charge to the officers, he appointed certain religious men in whom he could confide, to watch over the officers, and to receive all complaints. He forbade any infidel to be slain whom it was possible to make prisoner; and he took great care that all who desired to embrace the faith (as many did, moved by the pious example of this great king) should be perfectly instructed and baptized. But, notwithstanding all his watchfulness, whilst the army stayed about Damiata, many, to his extreme grief, gave themselves up to debauchery and outrageous acts of violence.

In November the king, leaving the queen and other princesses at Damiata with a strong garrison, set out with his army, intending to march to Grand Cairo, the capital. When he came to the place which separates the two arms of the Nile near Massour, he stopped, the Mahometan camp being on the other side of the river. In the meantime the sultan died on the 26th of November, 1249, leaving his son Almoadon very young; but he had appointed Facardin, who was the general of his army, and passed for the wisest and most valiant man in Egypt, regent of the kingdom, and his conduct justified the choice which his master had made of him. He constantly kept the Christians at bay, and often cut off their convoys at Damiata, and harassed all that stirred from their camp; in which he employed the Bedwins or Bedouins, a tribe of Arabs, accustomed to live by plunder. The French were extremely perplexed how to pass this arm of the Nile called Thanis, in sight of the enemy. To do it in boats, or to throw any kind of bridges over, they found equally impossible, unless they could first clear the opposite shore. They endeavored to fill up part of the channel by a new bank, but the Saracens widened it on the other side. They built several wooden towers to cover their workmen; but the Saracens destroyed them by throwing great stones upon them from sixteen large machines, or burnt them by throwing gregeois or Greek fire, which was a kind of wildfire made principally of naphtha, a bituminous liquid substance easily inflammable and not to be extinguished. The Greeks are sometimes mentioned to have used this wildfire in war, and its effects were dreadful. The Saracens had learned it from the Greeks, and St. Louis never heard the horrible noise of it flying in the air, but, falling on the ground, he besought God to have pity on those who fought for the glory of his holy name. Things stood thus for near three months, when a Bedwin came to one of the French commanders, and offered for five hundred besants of gold to show them a ford which might be passed on horseback. The price, though excessive, was readily paid him, and the ford was found, though a dangerous one, and false in one place, where the horses were forced to swim. In the frequent skirmishes which had been fought, the French bad always been victorious, and in them the counts of Anjou and Poitiers had gained a great deal of reputation. On this occasion the count of Artois, by repeated instances, obtained leave of the king to pass the ford at the head of the vanguard. The king fearing his warmth would draw him into some rash attempt, was unwilling, and only consented upon his solemn promise not to do anything without his order. The army crossed the river on Shrove-Tuesday, 1250; the van easily repulsed a body of infidels which disputed the passage, and the whole army got safe over, formed itself on the other side, and attacked the camp of the infidels, who were routed, and Facardin himself, fighting like a desperado, was run through the body with a lance, and killed. But the rashness of Robert count of Artois overturned all these glorious advantages. Having driven before him a body of Saracens, he too eagerly pursued them with two thousand men that were under his command, among whom were the earl of Salisbury and the English knights. They entered Massour intermixed with the fugitives, and became at once masters of the town. This success might in sound degree have atoned for the count’s rashness, had he stopped here, as the deal of Salisbury and others earnestly besought him; but he laughed at their prudence, and pursued the enemy a great way beyond the town, till they grew too numerous and strong for him. They then drove him back into Massour, and besieged him in their turn in a house. He defended himself with incredible valor, till, exhausted with fatigue and wounds, he fell upon a heap of infidels whom he had slain with his own hands. The great earl of Salisbury, and the two hundred brave English knights were cut off, and their loss was extremely regretted by St. Louis, though he said we ought to envy the glory and happiness of a death, which he called equal to martyrdom. Being asked about the count of Artois, he said, some tears beginning to run from his eyes, “He is in paradise; we ought to praise God for everything, and adore his profound judgments.” The king had in the battle performed prodigies of valor and conduct. Joinville saw him once in the midst of sixty hardy Saracens, all aiming their blows to kill him; but he freed himself by his own valor, killing some of them, and putting the rest to flight. The most formidable body in the Saracens’ army was that of twenty thousand Mammelus or Mammalukes, a savage people of Turkish extraction, whom the sultan had hired out of tureomania, and of these was his body-guard composed. Bondocdar, their general, after the slaughter of the count of Artois in Massour, assembled together this troop, and was soon joined by the rest of the Mahometans of Egypt, who unanimously put themselves under his banner, and chose him their general; though the regency, after the death of Facardin, was devolved on Sajareldor, Saleh’s widow, and mother-in-law to the young sultan.

The Christian army, after having been twice victorious, was worsted in an engagement with Bondoedar, chiefly by his wildfire, which took hold of their clothes and the caparisons of the horses, and strangely disconcerted the soldiers, who had never seen it used in battles. After this combat the Christians were almost all seized with a violent seurvy, which ate away their gums and jaws with incredible pain, and subjected them to terrible operations of surgeons; a grievous dysentery at length came on, and a bleeding of the nose was the symptom of approaching death. Great numbers died, and the king himself was sick, and his body reduced to a mere skeleton; yet he obliged his army to keep Lent. He led it over the ford to his old camp, repulsed the Saracens as often as they attacked him, and marched towards Damiata till he arrived at a little town called by Joinville Cassel, by others Charmasach. Here the Christians, whilst they were treating with the sultan, who still offered them advantageous conditions, by a mistake of come of their leaders, threw down their arms, and surrendered themselves prisoners. The infidels massacred all the poorer sort that were sick or wounded; but, by a certain drink, cured in a couple of days the prisoners that were persons of rank, though they were in the last stage of their fatal distemper; for only the Egyptians knew the remedy, which seems to have consisted in a decoction of certain herbs. Thus Joinville the historian and the king himself, recovered their health by means of their captivity. The queen at Damiata, upon receiving this melancholy news was brought to bed of her third son, who was named John, and from the sorrowful time of his birth was surnamed Tristan. The prisoners were conducted to Massour, and the king was treated with respect. His conduct, resolution, and behavior filled the Mahometans with admiration and astonishment. Under his sickness and misfortunes, he never let fall one impatient or angry word.

As soon as he was taken he desired to be attended by his two chaplains, with whom he recited the breviary every day with as much sedateness as if he had been in perfect health in his palace. He had the prayers of the mass read to him every day (except the words of consecration), that he might the better join in spirit and desire with the Church in her daily sacrifice. In the midst of the insults that were sometimes offered him by those that guarded him, he preserved a certain air of majesty and authority which kept them in awe. When he was threatened with the most ignominious treatment, and with the torture of the bernicles (a wooden engine, by which every limb of the body was pressed and bruised, and the bones broken), he beheld the terrible machine without so much as changing color, and answered coolly, that they were masters of his body, and might do with it what they pleased; the sultan sent to him a proposal, by which he demanded a million of besants of gold,* and the city of Damiata for his ransom, and that of the other prisoners. He answered, that a king of France ought not to redeem himself for money, but that he would give the city for his own releasement, and the million of besants for that of all the other prisoners. The sultan, charmed with his generosity and sincerity, said he had a noble soul, and sent him word, that out of the esteem he had for him, he freely gave him his liberty, and remitted a fifth part of the sum demanded for the others. A truce was concluded for ten years, in which the Christians of Palestine were comprehended.

After this the king and the principal lords of the army were put on board four vessels to go down the river towards Damiata, and to have an interview with the sultan in the way. But all this was overturned by the murder of the sultan Moadan. He had treated some emirs of the Mammelus with severity, and threatened to displace others among them, when they should arrive at Damiata, and he was determined to set aside his mother-in-law Sajareldor. Hereupon a conspiracy was laid to take away his life in a public assembly of the emirs. Bondocdar first struck him on the hand with his sword. At this signal other emirs rushed towards him, whilst the whole army stood looking idly on. Moadan fled to a neighboring tower, but it was set on fire. He then ran from one of his emirs to another, falling on his knees to entreat each of them; but every one pushed him violently from him. He therefore cried out, “What, Mussulmans! is there not one man out of a hundred thousand that will defend me? I beg only my life. Let who will reign in Egypt.” Several arrows were let fly at him, and he threw himself into the Nile, hoping to escape by swimming; but was stabbed in the water by nine Mammelus. Octaï, one of the principal emirs and murderers of the sultan ran from this barbarous action to the tent in which king Louis was, and showing him his dagger all bloody, told him he was now master of his person, and would kill him unless he created him knight, as the emperor Frederic had made Facardin. But the good king remembered how much that action had been condemned, and refused to do it, looking upon it that seeing an unbeliever is incapable of discharging the duties of the Christian knighthood, that honor could not be conferred on such a one. The barbarian was exceedingly moved by the king’s modest courage, and his fury was converted into admiration. Some of the emirs even suggested that he would be the most worthy person to be raised to the dignity of sultan, had he not been an enemy to their religion. They therefore set the crown on the head of the widow, Sajareldor, and appointed a Mammelu, surnamed the Turcoman, to be her general and prime minister. The former treaty with the king was confirmed with a few alterations on the 4th of May. The infidels ratified it by various strong forms of oaths. Among those which they proposed to the king, this was one, that he would be regarded to have denied God, his baptism, and the divine law, and to have spit and trampled upon the cross, if he should ever violate the treaty. The good king was shocked at the recital of such an imprecation, and would by no means consent to repeat it, saying, that it implied a blasphemy. The barbarians hereupon threatened to cut off his head, or to crucify him with all his people, and held the points off their swords to his throat; yet he was inflexible, and they at length contented themselves with his oath in the usual form. Nevertheless, after the treaty was signed, the emirs debated among themselves whether they should not behead the king, and all the Christians they had in their power. Many were of this opinion, but a spark of honor animated one of the emirs, and he spoke so handsomely on this subject, that he prevented the barbarous execution. The king was detained prisoner thirty-two days. At last, after having been perplexed with many cavils, treacheries, and alarms from the emirs, after having paid them a quarter of the ransom, and given his brother the earl of Poitiers as a hostage till the payment of the rest (which was made in a few days), having moreover surrendered Damiata, which he had held eleven months, he was set at liberty. He embarked at Damiata with his two brothers (who were released upon the payment of the ransom) and the Counts of Flanders and Brittany, the lord of Joinville, and the marshal of France.* The perfidious infidels, contrary to their treaty, confirmed by oath, murdered all the sick and wounded among the Christians in Damiata, and in many other things violated the articles of the agreement. Yet the king, when it was in his power, used no reprisals, and was most scrupulously faithful in fulfilling every point on his side, as he was in all his other treaties.

Out of a desire of comforting the Christians in Palestine, and of visiting the holy places, he sailed thither with the remains of his army, and in six days landed at Acre. In this voyage, hearing that his brother Charles was playing at tables upon deck, he went to him, and threw the dice overboard into the sea. The tears and entreaties of the Christians in those parts, who saw themselves lost without resource if forsaken by the king in their present distress, moved him to stay some time among them. But he sent back his brothers Alphonsus and Charles into France to comfort his mother, and most of the French nobility went with them. In Palestine the saint acted the part of a zealous missionary, strengthening many in their faith, and inspiring them with courage and resolution to suffer torments and death rather than to offend God. He often told them that as they lived on the ground on which Christ had so long conversed with men, and had wrought all the wonderful mysteries of our redemption, their lives ought in a particular manner to be as much as possible the living copies of his holy conversation and spirit. The very sight of his devotion and piety was a moving sermon; forty Saracens at Acre were by it converted to the faith all at once, and others in other places; and among these several emirs. He visited Nazareth fasting and on foot. Not only France but all Europe had expressed the greatest affliction upon the news of his captivity. Pope Innocent IV. sent him a pathetic letter of comfort, which the king received in Palestine. In it the pope, among other beautiful sentiments of condolence and piety, wrote as follows:5 “O Father of mercy, unfold to us the mystery of the severity with which thou hast treated the most Christian of princes, whilst animated with fervent zeal he generously sacrificed his own person, and the strength of his kingdom. If this disgrace was a trial to render thy servants worthy of heaven, what thanks do they not owe thee for such a favor! If it be a temporal chastisement to preserve sinners from the more dreadful punishments of thy justice in the other world, who will dare to call so advantageous a mercy severe?

The king being in Palestine wrote a circular letter to all his subjects in France, full of excellent maxims of zeal, piety, patience, and Christian prudence. He speaks of the death of the count of Artois with the tenderness of a most affectionate brother; but expresses a holy joy that he was gone to take possession of the eternal recompense of martyrs. He discovers an entire but humble confidence in the divine mercy, and in the intercession of the martyrs; gives due praise to the actions of others; is himself the only person of whom he says nothing. Not the least tittle savors of vain glory. In his afflictions he acknowledges the secret judgments of God, the punishment of his sins, and the holy order of providence, in whose will we are bound to acquiesce with perfect confidence and resignation; and in all advantages, he gives the whole glory to God.6 This true martyr of Christ in spirit, far from blushing at his humiliation, caused his chains to be engraved in the stamp of his coin, and used to say that the highest honor which a Christian can receive is to suffer for Christ. He was rigorous in doing justice to all others; but seemed to forget himself; so much did he dissemble personal affronts. He seemed not to hear injurious words spoken against him in his presence, and heaped benefits on those who, by an extravagance of temper, had conceived an antipathy against him, and expressed it by the insolence of their carriage. When a page let burning wax drop from a candle on his leg, which was at that time inflamed and sore, he never complained of his negligence.

Moadan, the murdered sultan of Egypt, was the last of the race of Saladin who reigned in that country. Saphradin the Younger, surnamed Nazer, the sultan of Syria, was his cousin, and to revenge his death, declared war against the Mammellus in Egypt; and, in the beginning of the year 1251, sent an embassy to St. Louis, offering to make him master of the whole kingdom of Jesusalem, if he would join him against the Egyptians. St. Louis answered that he should be willing to treat with him if the emirs in Egypt continued to break the treaty which he had made with them. He sent John of Valence into Egypt, who spoke boldly to the emirs of the Mammelus, concerning their infractions of the treaty. The emirs promised to make amends, and to give the king the most favorable conditions he could desire if he would not make a league with the sultan of Syria; and they released upon the spot two hundred knights and other Christian prisoners whom they had detained. St. Louis took this opportunity to rebuild the walls of Cæsarea, to fortify the port of Jaffa or Joppe, and to put other places of defence in the best condition he was able. In the meantime queen Blanche being struck with a palsy, in the sixtieth year of her age, put on the Cistercian habit, and made her religious vows, having sent for the abbess of Maubuisson to receive them. From that time she would only be laid on a bed of straw, and would suffer no rich ornaments in her chamber; she expired, lying on ashes, upon the first day of December in 1252. The king when he received this melancholy news, burst into floods of tears, and throwing himself on his knees at the foot of the altar in his chapel, addressed himself to God in these words: “Lord, I thank thee for having preserved to me so long the best of mothers. I confess there was nothing among creatures on earth that I loved with equal affection and tenderness. Thou takest her from me; and it is thy absolute will; may thy holy name for ever be blessed for it!” He showed his filial regard for her by having the sacrifice of the mass offered for her soul in his presence every day of his life afterward.7 He appointed his two brothers in France regents of the kingdom till he could arrive, and began to prepare for his departure; but was obliged to stay a year longer to finish the fortifications which he had begun. He visited Tyre, Sidon, and other places, and put them in a posture of defence; with his small army he put to flight the Mahomedans of Syria, and took from them in a wonderful manner the strong city of Naplosa, the ancient Samaria. Nothing could be more tender than the last adieus of the Christians of those parts, who, with abundance of tears, testified their sincere gratitude and called him their father. His gracious looks testified the regret with which he left them in the midst of enemies and dangers; he gave them strong assurances of his constant affection and attention for them, and pathetically exhorted them to be in their manners faithful imitators of their blessed Redeemer. He embarked at Acre with the queen, his little children, officers, and troops, in fourteen vessels, on the 24th of April, 1254.

St. Louis made each vessel of his fleet, especially his own ship, a kind of church. He obtained leave from the legate that the blessed eucharist should be carried in his vessel on a rich altar for the sick. The divine office was celebrated before it, at which and at mass he never failed to assist. Three sermons were preached every week, besides public catechism, and particular instructions of the sailors and soldiers; in which the king would have his part. He visited the sick every day, and exercised his zeal and charity all manner of ways, and with such success as gave him a great deal of comfort. They did not land at Cyprus, but only took in fresh water and some provisions. After a voyage of ten weeks the fleet arrived upon the 18th of July at the castle of Hieres, which belonged to the duke of Anjou, count of Provence. After resting some days, the king left Hieres, visited La Ste. Baume, and other places of devotion on his road, and came to Vincennes on the 5th of September in 1254. From thence he went to the abbey of St. Denis to return thanks to God, after which he made his public entry into Paris, after an absence of almost six years.

Joinville relates that in their voyage at sea, the king went to land at Lampedusa, a small uninhabited island lying betwixt Malta and Africa, and was strongly affected at the sight of a beautiful grove and garden with a cave or hermitage marked with crosses. They found there the bones of two hermits who had lately lived there. One of the company chose to stay behind, and succeeded the hermits in their anachoretical life. In this same voyage a gentleman falling overboard, invoked the intercession of the Mother of God and was preserved floating upon the waves, though he was not able to swim, till the king’s ship, which was half a league behind, came up, and the company finding him in that posture, took him in. Joinville, who was an eyewitness, with all others on board the king’s vessel, afterward had this miracle painted in his chapel, and in the windows of his church at Blecour. The holy king seemed to be little affected with the universal joy which the people expressed for his return. He had always before his eyes the dangerous condition of the Christians in the East, and he wore the cross upon his clothes to show that he had not quitted his design of returning to their assistance; but his affliction, and the care which he took more than ever to sanctify himself by austerities and other good works, did not at all take off the application he owed to the good of his realm. He, in the manner related above, secured its tranquillity by a firm peace with England and Spain, with both which there was always danger of a sudden rupture.

In 1254 Henry III. king of England visited the shrine of St. Edmund of Canterbury at Pontigni, and coming to Paris passed there eight days with St. Louis. Interviews of kings usually produce quarrels, which spring from jealousy, pride, and other passions; but here nothing reigned but harmony and piety. St. Louis told Henry, that he esteemed himself infinitely more happy that God had given him patience in suffering, than if he had conquered the world. Some time after this, king Henry and his barons in England, having exhausted the realm by an obstinate civil war, agreed on both sides to make St. Louis their judge, and signed a compromise, by which they engaged themselves to submit to his decision; so great was the universal opinion of his wisdom, equity, and uprightness. The king and queen of England, prince Edmund, and many bishops and lords of their party, and a great number of the confederate barons on the other side, came to Amiens. St. Louis repaired thither also; and after both parties had pleaded a long time, he, by a definitive absolute sentence, annulled all the articles granted by the king to the barons in the parliament or assembly at Oxford,8 as being extorted by compulsion, and as innovations injurious to the royal majesty; but he confirmed to the barons their ancient privileges.* Though several of the confederates went over to the king upon this decision, yet the earl of Leicester afterward renewed the war against him with more fury than ever; and in the battle of Lewes took king Henry, prince Edward his eldest son, and his brother Richard, king of the Romans, prisoners; but young prince Edward, having made his escape out of prison, raised a new army, defeated the confederate barons near Evesham, and killed the earl of Leicester.† By this victory king Henry recovered his liberty and crown.

St. Louis had no share in the transactions of his brother in Naples and Sicily, making it a rule never to interfere in the concerns of others, unless in works of religion or charity; but he never lost sight of the distressed Christians in the East, and the news of their calamities always made deep wounds in his heart. In 1262 Haalon, a Mahometan Tartar commander in Syria, slew the last descendant of Saladin’s brother, extinguished that Turkish branch, and made himself sultan of Damascus. In Egypt, Bondocdar, general of the Mammelus, after having embrued his hands in the blood of two sultans, he, in 1261, set the crown upon his own head. From this time the Mammelus reigned sultans in Egypt, though always elected out of their own body, till, in 1517, the last was defeated by Selim I. emperor of the Turks, and, after many insults, publicly strangled at Grand Cairo. This Bondocdar was one of the most perfidious and cruel of men, and a most implacable enemy of the Christians. He spent the two first years of his reign in settling his government; he encouraged learning, though himself an illiterate barbarian, and he is said to be the first who established regular posts for correspondence, though the ancient Persian kings had royal messengers placed at proper distances to succeed one another, and carry the king’s despatches with expedition to all parts of their empire. This tyrant, in the year 1266, the fifth of his reign, resolved to extirpate the Christians in the East. He took and demolished Tripoli, Cæsarea, Tyre, and other places in Syria and Palestine, and without having any regard to his capitulations and oaths, massacred all the captives who refused to embrace the Mahometan superstition. These calamities awakened the compassion and zeal of St. Louis, and he again took the cross with great solemnity, in a public assembly of princes and prelates, at Paris, on the 25th of March, 1267; but before he set out, he put the finishing hand to several pious establishments at home, among which we must reckon the house of Sorbon.

Robert Sorbon, a canon and learned doctor at Paris, whom St. Louis honored with his particular friendship, and often made use of for his confessor, first began this community of Masters of Arts, who were the ablest students or professors in theology. The king was so pleased with the design that he founded this college in the most magnificent manner in 1252, and obtained the confirmation of it by pope Clement IV.* This house has long been the most renowned college in that university; and by raising the present magnificent building cardinal Richelieu has erected a monument to his own memory. St. Louis founded in Paris, for poor blind men, the hospital of Quinze Vingt, so called because he placed in it at the first foundation three hundred such patients. He likewise made provisions before his departure for the other poor, whom he maintained out of his private purse; for he had every day one hundred and twenty indigent persons at a table near his own palace, and in Lent and Advent all who presented themselves; and these he often served in person. He kept lists of decayed gentlemen, and distressed widows, and young women, whom he regularly relieved in every province of his dominions. The saint made his will, in which, having left legacies to almost all the great monasteries of his kingdom, he settled and regulated all the affairs of his own family, and those of the state. He brought the kings of England and Navarre to an accommodation upon some differences that were between them relating to the city of Bayonne; for he always applied himself to do justice, to preserve peace in his own dominions, and to prevent war among his neighbors.* Having one day stood godfather to a Jew who was baptized at St. Denis, he said, with an affecting energy, to the ambassador of the Mahometan king of Tunis, that to see his master receive that sacrament, he would consent with joy to pass the rest of his life in chains under the Saracens. To prepare himself for the crusade he made two retreats at Maubuisson. Towards the expenses of that expedition the pope granted him the tenth penny of all ecclesiastical revenues, and he levied a capitation upon his subjects. He nominated to the regency of the kingdom during his absence, Matthew, abbot of St. Denis, a man of quality, of the family of the counts of Vendome, and Simon of Clermont, count of Nesle, both persons of known probity and singular prudence. The king’s three eldest sons, Philip, John, count of Nevers, and Peter, count of Alençon, took the cross to accompany him; as did also Theobald king of Navarre, Robert count of Artois, son to him who was killed at Massour, Guy count of Flanders, and many other lords. Joinville excused himself to the king, urging the necessity of his staying at home to protect his vassals from the oppression of the count of Champagne, lord paramount. He even endeavored to dissuade the king from the expedition, but was not able to prevail. St. Louis, and his brother the king of Sicily, had privately concerted measures to begin the war by the conquest of Tunis, which seemed easy, and would exceedingly further the expedition in Egypt.

The king embarked with his army at Aigues-Mortes upon the 1st of July, 1270; and when the fleet was over against Cagliari in Sardinia, a great council was held, in which it was resolved to attack Tunis.† The French fleet accordingly proceeded towards Africa and entered the gulf of Tunis, at the head of which that city stands, upon a lake which communicates with it. The Saracens, who lined the shore, immediately fled, and the descent being made without opposition, the French encamped upon an isthmus which separates the gulf of Tunis from another little gulf. They attacked the castle of Carthage, seated fifteen miles from Tunis, and carried it sword in hand. Tunis, Tripoli, Algiers, and many other principalities were erected in Barbary, in the eleventh age; for till then, that country had been subject to the sultan of Egypt. Muley Moztanza was at that time king of Tunis, and he prepared to make a vigorous defence; but his troops only showed themselves, and after light skirmishes retired. The French waited for the arrival of the king of Sicily with his fleet, to lay siege to Tunis; and his delay was the cause of all their misfortunes; for the heats being excessive in those burning sands, the camp was soon filled with malignant fevers and other epidemical diseases, which were contagious like a pestilence. The king’s beloved son John Tristan, count of Nevers, a prince of admirable innocence and sanctity, was the first person of distinction that was attacked. He was born at Damiata in Egypt, and was in the twenty-first year of his age when he died in Africa of a dysentery and fever. On the very day of his death, in the beginning of August, the king himself and his eldest son Philip were seized with the same disorder. The king’s delicate constitution, and weak emaciated body, made the distemper more dangerous to him. He continued, however, for some days to act, and to give all necessary orders; and particularly to treat with the ambassadors of the Greek emperor, Michael Palæologus, about the reunion of that church with the Latins. And by his pathetic exhortations he made both these ambassadors afterward zealous advocates for the union. The principal person was Veccus, chancellor of the church of Constantinople, afterward patriarch. When the fever and weakness confined him to his bed, he still caused his chaplains to come to his bed-side, and he recited with them the whole Church office as long as he was able. He had a great cross set near him so that he could easily turn his eyes upon it. He communicated very often during his illness, which held him one-and-twenty days.

Finding his distemper increase, he called for his eldest son Philip, and gave him certain pious instructions which he had drawn up in writing before he left Paris. Two copies hereof are still kept in the Chamber of Accounts at Paris under this title: Instructions of king Louis, the saint, to Philip, his eldest son. The dying admonitions of this great king to him are here inserted in abstract: “My son, before all things I recommend to you that you love God. Be always ready rather to suffer all manner of torments than to commit any mortal sin. When sickness or any other affliction befalls you, return thanks to God for it, and bear it courageously, being persuaded that you deserve to suffer much for having served God ill, and that such tribulations will be your gain. In prosperity give thanks to God with humility, and fear lest by pride you abuse God’s benefits, and so offend him by those very means by which you ought particularly to improve yourself in his service. Confess your sins frequently, and choose a wise and pious ghostly father, who will teach you what to follow, and what to shun; let him be one that will boldly reprehend you, and make you understand the grievousness of your faults. Hear the divine office devoutly,—meditate affectionately what you ask of God with your mouth; do this with more than ordinary application during the holy sacrifice of the mass, especially after the consecration. Be bountiful, compassionate, and courteous to the poor, and relieve and favor them as much as you can. If anything trouble your mind, reveal it to your ghostly father, or to some other grave and discreet person; for by the comfort you will receive you will bear it more patiently. Love to converse with pious persons; never admit any among your familiar friends but such as are virtuous and of good reputation; shun and banish from you the vicious. Make it your delight to hear profitable sermons and discourses of piety. Endeavor to gain the benefit of indulgences, and to get the prayers of others. Love all good, and abhor all evil. Wherever you are, never suffer any one to detract or say anything sinful in your presence. Punish all who speak ill of God or his saints. Give often thanks to God for all his benefits. In the administration of justice be upright and severe; hear patiently the complaints of the poor, and in all controversies where your interests are concerned, stand for your adversary against yourself, till the truth be certainly found out. Whatever you find not to belong to you, restore it without delay to the owner, if the case be clear; if doubtful, appoint prudent men to examine diligently into it. Endeavor to procure peace and justice to all your subjects. Protect the clergy and religious who pray for you and your kingdom. Follow the maxim of my grandfather king Philip, that it is sometimes better to dissemble certain things in ecclesiastics than to repress them with too great violence and scandal. Love and honor the queen your mother, and follow her counsels. Make no war, especially against Christians, without great cause, and good advice. If necessity force you to it, let it be carried on without damage to those who are not in fault, and spare the innocent subjects of your enemy as much as possible. Use all your authority to hinder wars among your vassals. Be scrupulous in the choice of good judges and magistrates. Have always a great respect for the Roman Church, and the pope and honor him as your spiritual father. Hinder, to the utmost of your power, all blasphemies, rash oaths, games of chance, drunkenness, and impurity. Never make any extravagant expenses, and never lay on your subjects any heavy or unjust burdens. After my death, take care to have a great many masses and prayers said for me in all churches and religious communities in France; and give me a share in all the good works which you shall do. I give you my blessing with the most tender affection that any father can give to a son; and I pray our Lord Jesus Christ to protect and strengthen you in his service, and always to increase his grace in you that you never do anything against his holy will, and that he may be ever faithfully honored and served by you. I beg this same grace for myself, that we may together see, laud, and honor him for all eternity.”

The holy king gave other instructions to his daughter the queen of Navarre. Having settled his affairs, and acquitted himself of his duties to others, he desired that no more mention should be made to him of temporal concerns, and applied himself wholly to think only of that great affair which was to be decided betwixt himself and God alone. He scarce spoke any more to any one but to his confessor. He praised and thanked God for having placed him in his present situation; he prayed with many tears, that he would enlighten and show mercy to infidels and sinners, and that his army might be conducted back into their own country without falling into the hands of the enemy, that none of them might be tempted through weakness to deny Christ. His charity, zeal, compunction, humility, and perfect resignation increased in his last moments, and in the fervent exercise of these virtues he prepared his soul to go forth and meet his judge and Redeemer. On the 24th of August, which was Sunday, he received first extreme unction, according to the discipline of that age, and afterward the viaticum. It was his custom whilst in health, and as long as he was able in his sickness, to creep on his knees from his place in the church up to the altar when he went to communion; he was then too weak to do this; but he would needs get up, and he received the blessed sacrament kneeling by his bed-side. He again that day called for the Greek ambassadors, and renewed, in a most pathetic manner, his exhortations to union with the Roman Church. He continued the rest of his time in ardent prayer, especially in acts of the divine love and praise. He lost his speech the next day from nine till twelve o’clock! then recovering it again, and lifting up his eyes towards heaven, he repeated aloud those words of the psalmist: Lord, I will enter into thine house; I will adore in thy holy temple, and will give glory to thy name. He spoke again at three in the afternoon, but only said, Into thy hands I commend my soul. Immediately after which he breathed his last in his camp, on the 25th of August, in the year of Christ 1270, being fifty-five years and four months old, and having reigned forty-three years, nine months, and eighteen days.

His brother Charles, king of Sicily, whose delays had thrown this expedition into the heats, arrived with his fleet a few minutes after the death of St. Louis. The Christian army defeated again the Moors and the Saracens in two great battles, and on the 30th of October concluded a peace with the infidels on the following conditions: That all prisoners should be released, and the Christian slaves set at liberty: that Christians should be allowed to build churches, and to preach the faith in the territories of these Mahometans, and that the Mahometans should be allowed to embrace it; that the king of Tunis should pay a yearly tribute of five thousand crowns to the king of Sicily, and that the king of France and his barons should receive two hundred and ten thousand ounces of gold to defray their expenses in this war; which was a larger sum than St. Louis had paid for his ransom. Such was the issue of the eighth and last of the crusades which were undertaken or the recovery of Palestine, and which employed Europe for almost two hundred years. Many things were great obstacles to the success of these enterprises, as the distance of the countries, difference of climates, repeated treacheries of the Greeks; and in the Christian armies the feodal jurisdiction, the mixture of different nations, the opposite views of particulars, and consequently the want of military subordination and obedience. Nor can it be denied that some engaged in these expeditions to screen themselves from public justice, or from their creditors; and many in them were seduced by the passions of ambition, avarice, vanity, jealousy, and revenge, which have often so great a share in wars. The unwarrantable injustices and plunders that were committed by many of the crusards are a sufficient proof of this reproach and scandal; and St. Bernard shows upon what motives many went on these expeditions from the tyranny and oppression which they exercised over their vassals immediately after their return. Such armies were not proper instruments to avert divine scourges from sinful nations; to persons engaged in them whose views were perfectly pure, and conduct holy, the temporal calamities which they suffered, and the contagion of vice over which they triumphed, were occasions of the most heroic virtues.

This praise no historian ever refused to St. Louis, whose views in war were exempt from the usual passions of ambition, avarice, and revenge, and whose martial dispositions were truly great because entirely subordinate to virtue and religion. Voltaire himself is the admirer and panegyrist of his courage, prudence, and piety, in these expeditions.* This last crusade, notwithstanding it failed of success, was some check to the progress of Bondocdar’s arms; but his son and successor, Seraf, or Sait, took Acre after an obstinate siege, and dispossessed the Christians of all the places which remained in their hands in Palestine; prince Edward, who was their last support, being before returned to England upon the death of his father Henry III., in 1272. The body of Saint Louis, after his death, was parboiled in water and wine to separate the flesh from the bones, the art of embalming bodies, so famous among the ancients, having been then lost by disuse. King Charles carried the bowels and the flesh to Sicily, and interred them under the stately monument in the great abbey of Monte-Reale, four miles from that city. This monastery was built by king William, and being made an archbishopric, was called a cathedral abbey. The saint’s bones and heart were carried into France by his son Philip, and deposited in the church of St. Denis. Many miracles wrought by the intercession of St. Louis, especially at both these sepulchral monuments, were juridically proved; and he was canonized by Boniface VIII. in 1297, in the reign of his grandson Philip the Fair, by whose order one of his ribs was placed in the cathedral at Paris, and his head in the holy chapel, in 1305.†

The heroic virtue of St. Louis shone brighter in his afflictions than it could have done amidst the greatest triumphs. He desired to see the faith of Christ and his holy love reign throughout the whole world, especially in that country which he had sanctified by his corporal presence on earth, and which was unjustly usurped by barbarous infidels; but God was pleased that he should rather glorify him by his sufferings. The saint found his comfort in the accomplishment of His holy will; and seeing his pious designs defeated, his army almost all destroyed, and himself in the hands of perfidious barbarians, he declared to his friends that he found more joy in his chains than he could have done in the conquest of the whole world. The sovereign will of God is the indispensable rule of the universe; resignation to it is the essential obligation of all creatures, and impatience is a crime of rebellion. It is also a base distrust in his goodness. His will is always most holy, tender, and merciful towards his servants; always guided by infinite love and wisdom. What can be more just and reasonable, than for us earnestly to commend ourselves to his mercy, and to acquiesce with thanksgiving and confidence in all his appointments! This conformity to his holy will, if it be courageous, constant, and universal, is the most perfect sacrifice of our will, of ourselves, and of all that we possess to him; it is the entire reign of his grace in our souls,10 the victory over most dangerous spiritual enemies, the firm anchor of our souls amidst the inconstancy of human affairs, and a source of unalterable peace and secure joy, with which the heart rests in the sweet bosom of divine providence, and drowns in it all distrustful and disquieting fears which passions are so apt to raise.

AUGUST 25 — ST. GREGORY, A. C. ADMINISTRATOR OF THE DIOCESS OF UTRECHT

He was born in the territory of Triers, and was a prince of royal blood; for his grandmother Adela, his father Albric’s mother, was daughter of Dagobert II., king of Austrasia. This lady, after the death of her husband, built the monastery of Palens, near Triers, and putting on the religious habit, was chosen the first abbess. Her sister Irwina, who had also renounced the world, died abbess of Horre. Gregory returning one day from school, when he was fifteen years of age, was desired by his grandmother to read to the nuns at Palens. St. Boniface, who was travelling from Friesland into Hesse and Thuringia, passed that way, and was present on this occasion. Gregory was desired by the abbess, after he finished his lecture, to explain the instructions which he had read in favor of those who did not understand Latin; but this he said he was not able to do, probably because he was not sufficiently acquainted with the Teutonic language. Wherefore St. Boniface, rising up, did that office for him, and added many pathetic exhortations to virtue, probably both in the Latin and Teutonic languages. Gregory was so moved by his discourses, that he resolved upon the spot to forsake the world, and attend that holy man wherever he went. His friends do not seem to have opposed his inclination; for St. Boniface took him with him, and would be himself his master and instructor. He seems to have placed him for some time in the monastery of Ordorf, for the convenience of finishing his studies; but he took him very young wholly to himself, made him his constant attendant, and always loved him as his son. The disciple was a faithful imitator of his spirit and great virtues, assisted him in his missions and accompanied him in journeys to Rome and other places. St. Boniface, a little before his martyrdom, sent him to Utrecht to govern a monastery lately founded there. He had before appointed Eoban bishop of that church. SS. Boniface and Eoban received together the crown of martyrdom in 754; after which pope Stephen III. and Pepin obliged St. Gregory to take upon him the care of that church. Beka, Heda, Snoius, Baronius, and Molanus, call him bishop of Utrecht; but Maoillon, the Bollandist, and Antony Pagi1 demonstrate that he never received the episcopal consecration, and that though he administered the diocess during twenty-two years, to his death, he never was more than priest, as appears from his life written by St. Ludger.

When the murderers of his two brothers were sent to him by the civil magistrates to be put to what death he should think fit, according to the barbarous custom of the country in that age, which left the punishment of the assassins to the direction of the relations of the deceased person, the saint gave every one of them a suit of clothes with an alms, and dismissed them with good advice. By his zealous preaching and prudent care, he rendered the church of Utrecht the most flourishing in all that country. His eminent spirit of mortification and prayer, his invincible meekness and silence under all injuries, his humility and his patience under three years’ severe sickness, crowned him with the glory of the saints, to which he passed on the 25th of August, in 776. His relics were religiously kept at Utrecht, and examined in the episcopal visitations in 1421 and 1597. See his life written by his disciple St. Ludger, bishop of Munster, in Mabillon, sæc. Ben. 3, and the dissertations of Stilting the Bollandist, t. 5, Aug., p. 241. Also Fleury,1. 44, n. 9, t. 9, and Batavia Sacra, p. 88.

AUGUST 25 — ST. EBBA (IN ENGLISH, ST. TABBS), V. A

She was sister to St. Oswald and Oswi, kings of the Northumbers, and, assisted by the liberality of the latter, founded a nunnery upon the Darwent, in the bishopric of Durham, called from her Ebchester; also a double separate monastery at Coldingham in the marshes, now in Scotland, below Berwick. This latter house of nuns she governed herself till she was called to eternal bliss in 683. See Bede,1. 4, c. 19, 25, and Harpsfield.

AUGUST 26 — ST. ZEPHYRINUS, POPE, M

See Tillemont, Ant. Sandini, Vitæ Pont. Rom. ex antiquis Monum. Anastasius with the notes of Bianchini and Muratori. Mandosi, Bibl. Roman.

A. D. 219.

ST. ZEPHYRINUS, a native of Rome, succeeded Victor in the pontificate, in the year 202, in which Severus raised the fifth most bloody persecution against the Church, which continued, not for two years only, as Dodwell imagined, but to the death of that emperor in 211, as Ruinart, Berti, and others, prove from Sulpicius Severus, and other authorities. Under this furious storm this holy pastor was the support and comfort of the distressed flock of Christ, and he suffered by charity and compassion what every confessor underwent. The triumphs of the martyrs were indeed his joy, but his heart received many deep wounds from the fall of apostates and heretics Neither did this latter affliction cease by the peace which Caracalla restored to the Church, and which was not disturbed by Macrinus, by whose contrivance Caracalla was murdered in Mesopotamia, in 217, nor by the successor and murderer of this latter, the impure Heliogabalus, who reigned to the year 221. The chief among these heretics were Marcion, Praxeas, Valentine, and the Montanists; for St. Optatus testifies,1 that all these were vanquished by Zephyrinus, bishop of Rome.

Our saint had also the affliction to see the fall of Tertullian, which seems to have been owing partly to his pride, and partly to one Proclus or Proculus, an eloquent Montanist, whom Tertullian highly extolled, after he was become an abettor of that heresy. This Proculus was publicly put to confusion at Rome by Caius, a most learned priest of that church, under St. Zephyrinus, who was afterward ordained a regionary bishop, that is, with a commission to preach the gospel without being fixed in any particular see, as Photius assures us. Eusebius, St. Jerom, and Photius, much commend the dialogue of Caius with Proculus; a work which has not reached our times. Photius tells us, that Caius also composed a treatise against Artemon, who believed that Jesus Christ was only a mere man, and several other learned works, from which Eusebius took the account he has given us of the penance of Natalis.2 This man lived at Rome, and having confessed the faith before the persecutors, underwent torments in defence of it; but afterward was seduced into heresy by Asclepiodotus and Theodotus the Banker, who were both disciples of Theodotus the Tanner, whom Victor, bishop of Rome, had excommunicated for reviving the heresy of Ebion, affirming that Christ was no more than a mere man, though a prophet. These two heretics had persuaded Natalis to suffer them to ordain him a bishop of their sect, promising that he should be furnished monthly with one hundred and fifty silver denarii, upwards of three pounds sterling; but God having compassion on his confessor, warned him by several visions to abandon these heretics; among whom he was detained only by interest and vanity. At length he was whipped a whole night by an angel. The day following he covered himself with sackcloth and ashes, and shedding abundance of tears, went and threw himself at the feet of Zephyrinus: he prostrated himself also before both the clergy and the laity, in a manner with which the whole assembly was much affected. However, though he entreated very earnestly, and showed the marks of the stripes he had received, it was with much difficulty that St. Zephyrinus readmitted him to the communion of the Church, granting him, in recompense of his great compunction, an indulgence or relaxation of the severity of the discipline, which required a penitential delay and trial. Eusebius tells us, in the same place, that this holy pope exerted his zeal so strenuously against the blasphemies of the two Theodotus’s, that those heretics treated him in the most contumelious manner; but it was his glory that they called him the principal defender of Christ’s divinity. St. Zephyrinus filled the pontifical chair seventeen years, dying in 219. He was buried in his own cemetery (comprised in that of Calixtus, as Aringhi shows) on the 26th of August, on which most Martyrologies commemorate him; though those of Vandelbert and Rabanus, with the old Martyrology, under the name of St. Jerom, published by Florentinius, mark his festival on the 20th of December, probably on account of some translation, or the day of his ordination, says Berti.3 He is, in some Martyrologies, styled a martyr, which title he might deserve by what he suffered in the persecution, though he perhaps did not die by the executioner.

God has always raised up holy pastors, zealous to maintain the sacred deposit of the faith of his church inviolable, and to watch over the purity of its morals, and the sanctity of its discipline. How many conflicts did they sustain! with what constancy, watchfulness, and courage, did they stand their ground against idolatry, heresy, and the corruption of the world! We enjoy the greatest advantages of the divine grace through their labors; and we owe to God a tribute of perpetual thanksgiving and immortal praise for all those mercies which he has afforded his Church on earth. We are bound also to recommend most earnestly to him his own work, praying that he exalt the glory of his divine name, by propagating his holy faith on earth; that he continually raise up in his Church shining examples of all virtue, pastors filled with his spirit, and a people disposed to captivate their understandings to his revealed truths, and subject their hearts to the sweet yoke of his holy love and divine law: watchful to abhor and oppose every profane innovation of doctrine, and all assaults and artifices of vice.

AUGUST 26 — ST. GENESIUS, A COMEDIAN, M

Christ who, to show the power of his grace, and the extent of his mercy, called a publican to the apostleship, honored with the glory of martyrdom this saint, drawn from the stage, the most infamous school of vice and the passions, and the just abhorrence of the holy fathers of the Church, of all zealous pastors, and all sincere lovers of virtue. The emperor Dioclesian coming to Rome, was received with great rejoicings. Among other entertainments prepared for him, those of the stage were not neglected. In a comedy which was acted in his presence, one of the players took it into his head to represent, in a ludicrous manner, the ceremonies of the Christian baptism, which could not fail to divert the assembly, who held this religion, and its mysteries, in the utmost contempt and derision. This player therefore, whose name was Genesius, and who had learned some things concerning the Christian rites from certain friends who zealously professed that religion, laid himself down on the stage, feigning himself sick, and said: “Ah! my friends, I find a great weight upon me, and would gladly be eased.” The others answered, “What shall we do to give thee ease? wouldst thou have us plane thee, to make thee lighter?” “Ye senseless creatures,” said he, “I am resolved to die a Christian, that God may receive me on this day of my death, as one who seeks his salvation by flying from idolatry and superstition.” Then a priest and exorcist were called, that is to say, two players, who personated these characters. These, sitting down by his bed-side, said, “Well, my child, why did you send for us?” Here Genesius, being suddenly converted by a divine inspiration, replied, not in jest, but seriously, “Because I desire to receive the grace of Jesus Christ and to be born again, that I may be delivered from my sins.” The other players proceeding mimically, went through the whole ceremony of baptism with him; but he in earnest answered the usual interrogatories, and on being baptized was clothed with a white garment. After this, other players, habited like soldiers, to carry on the jest, seized him, and presented him to the emperor, to be examined, as the martyrs were worn to be. Genesius then declaring himself openly, said aloud, standing upon the stage, “Hear, O emperor, and all you that are here present, officers of the army, philosophers, senators, and people, what I am going to say. I never yet so much as heard the name of a Christian but I was struck with horror, and I detested my very relations because they professed that religion. I in formed myself exactly concerning its rites and mysteries only that I might the more heartily despise it, and inspire you with the utmost contempt for the same; but whilst I was washed with the water, and examined, I had no sooner answered sincerely that I believed, than I saw a company of bright angels over my head, who recited out of a book all the sins I had committed from my childhood; and having afterward plunged the book into the water which had been poured upon me in your presence, they showed me the book whiter than snow. Wherefore, I advise you, O great and mighty emperor, and all ye people here present, who have ridiculed these mysteries, to believe, with me, that Jesus Christ is the true Lord; that he is the light and the truth; and that it is through him you may obtain the forgiveness of your sins.”*

Dioclesian, highly enraged at these words, ordered him, to be most inhumanly beaten with clubs, and afterward put into the hands of Plautian, the prefect of the prætorium, that he might compel him to sacrifice. Plautian commanded him to be put upon the rack, where he was torn with iron hooks for a considerable time, and then burnt with torches. The martyr endured these torments with constancy, and persisted crying out, “There is no other Lord of the universe besides him whom I have seen. Him I adore and serve, and to him I will adhere, though I should suffer a thousand deaths for his sake. No torments shall remove Jesus Christ from my heart or mouth. I regret exceedingly my former errors, and that I once detested his holy name and came so late to his service.” At length his head was struck off. His name occurs in the ancient Roman and African calendars. Ruinart1 and Tillemont2 refer his martyrdom to the year 286; for Dioclesian, having vanquished Carinus (who was slain near Murga the year before), associated Maximian Herculeus in the empire at Nicomedia, on the 1st of April, 286; after which he took a journey in great state to Rome, where there seems to have been a hot persecution about July, says Tillemont. Fleury places the death of St. Genesius in 303; for Dioclesian went again to Rome to celebrate the twentieth year of the reign of Maximian Herculeus, which was begun in November, 303. At the same time, both the emperors triumphed together over the Persians; after some stay there, Dioclesian returned into the East. See this martyr’s genuine acts in Ruinart, p. 283, and Orsi, t. 3, p. 467.

AUGUST 26 — ST. GELASINUS, M. A COMEDIAN AT HELIOPOLIS IN PHŒNICIA

He having been baptized in jest, in a warm bath on the stage, coming out of it, loudly professed himself a Christian, and was stoned to death by the mob, in 297, as the chronicle of Alexandria relates. Theodoret speaks of these examples, when he says that some on the stage have passed from the worship of devils to the rank of martyrs.1 The examples of wonderful conversions strongly invite us to address ourselves to the divine mercy, and to beg that God would be pleased, by his omnipotent grace and power, perfectly to subdue and convert our hearts.

AUGUST 26 — ST. GENESIUS, OF ARLES, M

He was a public notary in the city of Arles, and a catechumen at a time when Maximian Herculeus arrived there. An imperial edict against the Christians, which was then in force, was put into his hands to transcribe; but he, rather than to concur to such a criminal injustice, threw away his pencil, and secretly left the town in order to hide himself; but he was overtaken, and beheaded on the banks of the Rhone, about the beginning of the fourth century. See his genuine acts in Ruinart. He is mentioned as the glory of the city of Arles, by Prudentius, Hymn. 7, v. 36, by St. Gregory of Tours, St. Eucherius, and the ancient martyrologies.

AUGUST 27 — ST. CÆSARIUS ARCHBISHOP OF ARLES, CONFESSOR

From his life, extant in two books; the first compiled by his disciple Cyprian, afterward bishop of London, and Firminus and Viventius, two other bishops who assisted him in this work; the second, written, in part, by the priest Messianus and the deacon Stephen. All these authors were disciples of St. Cæsarius, and witnesses of what they report concerning his virtues and miracles. See this work in Mabillon, Sæc. Ben.1. t. 1. p. 659. See also this learned compiler, Annal. Bened t. 1. Ceillier, t. 16, p. 226. Rivet, Hist. Littér. de la France, t. 3, p. 170. Gall. Chr. Nov. t. 1. p. 535.

A. D. 542.

ST. CÆSARIUS was born in 470, in the territory of Challons on the Saone, and descended from a family of distinguished piety. When but seven years old he often gave his clothes to poor people whom he met begging. In his youth he laid a good foundation of literature, and comparing the unquiet scenes of vice, vanity, and folly, in which he saw men too easily engage themselves amidst the hurry of a secular life, with the calmness and security of an amiable retreat, he resolved to renounce the world. Wherefore, at eighteen years of age, he entreated Sylvester, bishop of Challons, to cut off his hair, and give him the ecclesiastical habit, that he might enter himself in the service of the Church. This was done accordingly; but two years after, Cæsarius, out of a desire of attaining still greater perfection, privately withdrew to the monastery of Lerins, which had produced many learned and pious men under the direction of the abbot Porcarius. In this house he was a perfect model of regularity, meekness, humility, and obedience. The abbot appointed him cellerer; but as human passions creep into recesses the furthest removed from the incentives of vice, some of the monks were offended at his scrupulous severity: and so loud were their complaints, that the abbot, though with regret, was forced to discharge him from his office. The saint rejoiced to see himself at liberty to give himself up entirely to the exercises of contemplation and penance; but his great austerities having thrown him into a fit of illness, his abbot sent him to Arles for advice, where he was known by Eonius, the archbishop, who was his countryman and relation. He demanded him of the abbot Porcarius, and immediately ordained him deacon, and afterward priest; soon after he made him abbot of a monastery built in an island in the Rhone, within the suburbs of the city. Three years after, lying on his death-bed, he recommended him for his successor. The saint fled, and hid himself among the Roman sumptuous tombs, a great number of which are remaining to this day near the city; but being discovered, he was obliged to acquiesce in the unanimous election of the clergy and the whole city, in 501. He was then thirty years old, and he presided over that church above forty years.

The first thing he did in this station was to regulate the singing of all the canonical hours of the divine office, which he caused to be performed publicly, not only on Sundays, Saturdays, and solemn festivals, as had been the custom at Arles, but every day, as was done in other neighboring churches. He induced the laity, that were not hindered, to attend constantly the canonical hours. The office was sung in the Latin tongue; but some sung it in the Greek,1 who were doubtless the foreigners that came from the East to Marseilles, and likewise many inhabitants on that coast, who retained that language; for Marseilles was originally a Greek colony. He strenuously exhorted all persons never to fail, except in cases of the greatest necessity, to assist at all the hours of the divine office, that are sung in the day, and in Lent also, at those of the night.2 He was very careful to instruct his flock in all the conditions of devout prayer, and to teach them to cry to God with the earnest desires of the heart, not with their lips only, which can be no prayer, but only mockery, and an insult offered to God; prayer being defined the raising of the heart to God. “A man,” said he, “worships that object on which his mind is most intent during prayer. Whoever, in his prayers, thinks of the public place of resort, or of the house he is building, adores that rather than God.”3 In order to devote himself the more assiduously to prayer, reading, and preaching, he left to stewards and deacons the care of his temporalities. Knowing that the church puts the poor under the special protection of the bishops, he consecrated to them almost his whole revenue, and built many hospitals. He preached on all Sundays and holidays, and often on other days, both morning and evening. If he was hindered, he ordered the priests or deacons to read to the people some homilies of the fathers; and he would have some such homily always read after matins and vespers, that the people might never depart from the church without the benefit of some instruction.4 He taught the faithful to dread, above all other terrible judgments that God ever inflicts on souls in his anger, a spiritual famine of his divine word. He was an enemy to studied discourses. His style is plain, natural, and pleasing. Many of his sermons have sometimes been ascribed to St. Ambrose, and especially to St. Austin. The Benedictin editors of the works of this latter, in an appendix to his sermons, have published one hundred and two sermons of St. Cæsarius.* By these it appears that he used to descend very much to particulars, which is most useful in preaching; and he spoke chiefly against those vices which prevailed most, especially against a delay of repentance, the most ordinary stratagem by which the devil betrays souls into eternal perdition. He strongly inculcated the fear of the pains of purgatory for venial sins, and the necessity of effacing them by daily penance.5 His ordinary exhortations regard prayer, fasting, alms, the pardon of injuries, chastity, and the practice of all manner of good works, especially in Lent, on the Rogation-days, and in other such times of devotion.

St. Cæsarius built a nunnery at Arles, and assisted in working with his own hands. The church was very large, and divided into three parts: that in the middle he dedicated in honor of the Blessed Virgin; the other two of St. John Evangelist and St. Martin. This monastery was at first called St. John’s, but afterward took the name of St. Cæsarius, who committed the government of it to his sister Cæsaria, she having been educated, and having taken the veil in a nunnery at Marseilles, probably that founded by Cassian. St. Cæsarius drew up an excellent rule for these religious women, which is still extant. They made their own clothes, and were generally employed in working wool. They had a daily task set them; and were allowed to embroider, and to wash and mend clothes for persons that lived out of the convent. The ornaments of their church were only of woollen or linen cloth, and plain, without embroidery or flowers. Some of these nuns employed themselves in transcribing holy books in a beautiful character.6 They all read two hours every day; and one of them read to the rest during part of the time they were at work. The monastery, for the sake of uniformity, afterward exchanged this rule for that of St. Bennet. We have likewise a shorter rule for monks, which St. Cæsarius gave to Teredus, whom he appointed abbot of a monastery near Arles. Some of his letters relating to monastic duties have reached us, with his testament, in which he leaves his patrimony to his sister’s monastery. St. Cæsarius presided in the council of Agde in 506, where several decrees were framed for the reformation of manners; also in the second council of Orange, in 529, the canons of which he drew up.7 In them was condemned the heresy of the Semipelagians, who affirmed, that the first desire or beginning of faith and good works is from the creature. This council pronounces an anathema against those who blasphemously affirm that God predestinates any man to damnation; on the other side, it declares that, according to the Catholic faith, God inspires into our souls, by his grace, the beginning of his faith and love, or the first desire or good disposition of the soul towards it, and that he is the author of our conversion. This, and other like points, are confirmed by passages of the holy scriptures and fathers, chiefly St. Austin, which establish the necessity of grace to all our good thoughts and actions which conduce to eternal life. St. Cæsarius sent the decrees of this council to Rome, to be confirmed by pope Felix IV., which was executed in the most ample manner by his successor Boniface II., and from that time the Semipelagians were ranked by the whole Church among heretics. The Semipelagians indeed made some noise after the council of Orange; and dared to maintain their errors in the council of Valence soon after the former. St. Cæsarius, detained by his infirmities, was not able to go thither in person, but sent Cyprian, bishop of Toulon, who wrote his life, to defend the truth; of which commission he acquitted himself with great zeal. The answer of the apostolic see, by which the decrees of the council of Orange were confirmed, entirely silenced the advocates of that subtle heresy. St. Cæsarius had begun his attack upon it by his book On Grace and Free-Will, which he wrote as an antidote against the poisonous work of Faustus of Riez; but so complete was the victory which he gained over it by the council of Orange, that this formidable monster was entirely crushed, and the confirmation of this council closes the history of that heresy.

St. Cæsarius had his share in the public calamities of the age in which he lived. The city of Arles was at that time subject to Alaric, king of the Visigoths, who was master of the greatest part of Spain, all Languedoc, and great part of Provence. It was suggested to this prince, that the archbishop being born a subject to the king of Burgundy he did all that lay in his power to bring the territory of Arles under his dominion, than which nothing could be a more notorious calumny; for he prayed night and day on his bended knees, that all nations might enjoy peace, and the cities be free from tumults and insurrections. However, Alaric, without the least examination, banished him to Bordeaux. During his residence in that city, a fire happening one night to break out, the people ran in crowds to him, and besought him to put up his prayers for the extinction of the flames. The blessed man prostrated himself in prayer before the fire, which immediately subsided: hereupon he was regarded as the saver of the city. Alaric, having discovered his innocence, recalled him from his exile, and condemned his accuser to be stoned; but pardoned him at the earnest intercession of the saint.

At his return to Arles, all the people went to meet him, singing psalms, and holding wax tapers in their hands; and they thought they were indebted to his prayers for plentiful showers of rain that fell at that time, after a long drought. Clovis, king of the Franks, in conjunction with the Burgundians, defeated and slew Athalaric in Poitou, in the year 507, the twenty-third of his reign. His young son Alaric fled into Spain, was proclaimed king of the Visigoths, and was powerfully protected by Theodoric, king of the Ostrogoths in Italy, whose grandson that prince was by a daughter. The French and Burgundians laid siege to Aries in 508; during which the Goths threw St. Cæsarius into prison, upon suspicion that he had attempted to deliver up the city to the besiegers; but was cleared, and set at liberty. The siege was raised, and a great number of prisoners were brought into the city, and the churches were filled with them. St. Cæsarius was moved exceedingly at their condition; for they were in want both of clothes and victuals. He furnished them with both, and employed in relieving them the whole treasury of his church. He stripped the pillars and rails of the silver with which they were adorned, and melted down and gave away the very censors, chalices, and patens, saying, “Our Lord celebrated his last supper in mean earthen dishes, not in plate; and we need not scruple to part with his vessels for the ransom of those whom he has redeemed with his own life. I would fain know if those who censure what we do, would not be glad to be ransomed themselves in the like manner, were the same misfortune to befall them.” St. Cæsarius took the utmost care of the sick, whom he provided with a very spacious house, where they might hear, at their ease, the divine office performed, and where they were carefully attended. The poor had ever a very easy access to him, and he gave a strict charge to the servant who waited on him, always to see whether there was not some poor person at the door, who was afraid of coming in.

After the death of the king of the Visigoths, Theodoric the Ostrogoth, king of Italy, seized upon those dominions in Languedoc and Spain, though they soon after chose again a prince of their own. The excessive charity of St. Cæsarius towards the prisoners displeased king Theodoric, who ordered him to be apprehended, and brought under a strong guard to Ravenna. When the saint came into the king’s presence, and saluted him, Theodoric seeing his venerable aspect and intrepid air, rose up, took from his head the ornament with which it was covered, and returned his salute in a very obliging manner. After many kind speeches, when St. Cæsarius vas gone out, Theodoric said to those about him, “May God punish those who have been the occasion of so holy a man’s undertaking so long a journey without cause. I trembled when he came in; he has the countenance of an angel. I can harbor no thoughts to the prejudice of such a person.” He sent him to his house a silver basin of sixty pounds weight, with three hundred pieces of gold, and ordered the bearer to say to him. “The king, your son, holy bishop, entreats you to accept this present, and to make use of the basin for his sake.” St. Cæsarius, who never used plate at his table, except a few silver spoons, sold the basin publicly, and ransomed several captives with the money. When the king was told this, and also that the bishop’s door was so much crowded with poor people, that it was impossible to get near it, he expatiated so much upon this charity, that the senators and the rest of the quality strove who should bestow the most bountiful alms, to be distributed by the hands of St. Cæsarius. They even said publicly, that God had been very gracious to them in giving them the sight of so apostolical a man. By these liberalities the man of God was enabled to deliver all those that had been taken prisoners on the other side of the Durance. He also furnished them with carriages and money to carry them back to their respective homes. At Ravenna he restored to health, by his prayers, the son of a certain widow, who with many tears, more expressive of her gratitude than words could be, besought him to take her son into his service, and carry him along with him into Gaul.

From Ravenna St. Cæsarius went to Rome, where pope Symmachus, the clergy, nobility, and people, very much desired to see him. The pope gave him the pallium, and confirmed in his favor the privileges of the church of Arles, appointed him vicar of the apostolic see, and ordained that he should superintend all ecclesiastical affairs in Gaul and Spain. These things were transacted in the year 513. In the same year this pope published certain decretals to remove several abuses in Gaul. By one of these he forbade the alienation of Church lands, unless they were given to clergymen for their services, or to supply their wants, only for the term of their lives.8 This is thought to be the origin of ecclesiastical benefices. For anciently, the bishops had the administration of the whole revenue of their churches, allowing a part for the maintenance of their clergy. St. Cæsarius returned to Arles in 514, and continued to edify and instruct his flock many years longer. In the seventy-second year of his age, being broken with infirmities, and finding himself near death, he asked how long it was to the festival of St. Austin, saying, “I hope I shall die about that time; you know how much I always loved his truly Catholic doctrine.” He caused himself to be carried in a chair to the monastery of his nuns, whom he endeavored to prepare and comfort for the affliction which he knew his death would give them; but whatever he could say, rather seemed to augment their affliction. He made them a moving exhortation. They were above two hundred in number, and their superior was called Cæsaria, and had succeeded his sister of the same name. Having given them his blessing, he returned to the metropolitan church, and died in the presence of several holy bishops and priests, on the eve of the feast of St. Austin, in 542. His relics healed a great number of sick people, and he wrought several like miracles whilst he was living, as the authors of his life testify.

St. Cæsarius teaches us, that a mortified penitential life, and the utmost purity and sanctity of manners, are dispositions which very much fit our souls for prayer. We ought to present our hearts before God, crucified to themselves and the world; purified from all vicious and earthly affections, glowing only with those of divine love, praise, humility, confidence, and all other virtues, that we ourselves, and our homages, may be such sacrifices as may worthily glorify his holy name, and be accepted by him, being offered with and through the infinite merits of Christ’s sacred passion. St. Cæsarius was a great lover of public prayer. Both to supply our own imperfections in this great duty of praising God and out of zeal that He be more perfectly glorified by the chorus of His whole creation, we must invite all the heavenly spirits to join us with their whole strength, and the utmost ardor of their love; and must present to God with our hearts all their pure and burning affections of adoration, praise, and charity; the hearts likewise of all his faithful servants on earth, begging that by his grace he would perfectly purify them all, and make them worthy to offer him a pure homage. We must present him also with our own the hearts of all mankind, earnestly entreating him, that for the sake of his infinite goodness and mercy, he would enlighten and sanctify them all; bring all infidels to know him their great Beginning and last End, and make all blind sinners experience the joy, delight, peace, and happiness of the reign of his holy love.

AUGUST 27 — ST. PŒMEN OR PASTOR, ABBOT

This great light among the ancient fathers of the desert, forsook the world about the year 385, and retired into the great wilderness of Sceté in Egypt. He often passed several days, sometimes a whole week, without eating, but it was his constant advice to others that their fasts should be moderate, but constant, and that they should take some nourishment every day. It was a maxim with him, that no monk ought ever to taste wine, or to seek any superfluous gratification of the senses; “for,” said he, “sensuality expels compunction and the holy fear of God from the heart, as smoke drives away bees; its stench extinguishes that grace, and deprives a soul of the sensible comforts and presence of the Holy Ghost.” In his youth he visited assiduously, the ancients and received great profit from their experience and instructions. He much admired that lesson of abbot Moses, that a servant of God must preserve his heart always broken with holy sorrow and compunction, and exceedingly humbled at the consideration of his sins, which he must always have before his eyes; but he must never think of those of others, or judge any one, further than charity or authority may oblige him. The barbarians ravaging Sceté in 395, he and his brothers retired to Terenuthi, near an old temple of idols, and lived there for several years. Anubis the eldest, and Pœmen, governed this little community by turns, with a constant mutual deference to each other. Of the twelve hours of the night, they allotted four for work, four for singing psalms together, and four for taking their rest. In the day they worked till sext; then read till none, or three in the afternoon; after this they gathered a few herbs for their refection.

St. Pœmen feared the least occasion that could interrupt his solitude, or make the distractions of the world break in upon him. Whilst he lived in Lower Egypt his mother came to see him; but he, without opening his door, said to her, “Had you rather see me at present for a moment, or enjoy my company for ever in the world to come? You will have that happiness, if you now curb your desire.” Hearing this, she went away with joy, saying, “To make the happiness of seeing you in heaven more sure, I willingly forego the pleasure of seeing you on earth.” Pœmen used the like severity towards the governor of the province, who never was able to draw him out of his desert to pay him a visit. The saint went back into Sceté, but was again banished thence with St. Arsenius, by a fresh incursion of the barbarians in 430. Among the remarkable sayings of this holy abbot it is related, that when one who had committed a fault told him he would do penance for it three years; the saint doubting of his perseverance with fervor so long, advised him to confine his penance to three days, but to be very fervent in it Another addressing himself to him under an obstinate temptation, St. Pœmen bade him quit the place where he lived, and go as far from it as he could walk in three days and three nights; and to fast till evening every day for a year. A monk who was grievously molested with thoughts of blasphemy, often went to him, but for a long time had not the courage to disclose to him the inward trouble of his mind. The saint perceiving his difficulty, encouraged him to lay open his perplexity. The brother had no sooner done it but he found himself at ease. The saint mildly comforted him, and bade him constantly say to the devil, whenever he suggested any abominable thought, “May thy blasphemy fall on thee; it is not mine, for my heart detests it.” A person came out of Syria to consult him by what remedies a spiritual dryness and hardness of heart is best overcome. The saint answered, “By perseverance in fervent prayer. Water is soft, and stone hard; yet, drops of water often falling upon it, wear it hollow; so by the divine word often falling upon our heart, though it were of adamant, it must at length yield to the impression.” The practice of penance and assiduous prayer have a wonderful efficacy in dissolving the hardest and dryest hearts into compunction; and an humble regret for the want of compunction cannot fail to obtain it or at least to procure all its advantages.

St. Pœmen used strongly to exhort the faithful to the most frequent devout communion, and to a continual vehement thirst after that divine table, as the stag pants after the cool spring. “Some aver,” said he, “that stags feel a most violent inward heat and thirst, because in the deserts they devour serpents, and their bowels are parched with their poison. Thus souls, in the wilderness of this world, always suck in something of its poison, and must languish perpetually to approach the body and blood of Jesus Christ, which powerfully fortifies them against, and expels all such venom.” This holy abbot gave the following rule to his disciples: “Never seek to do your own will, but rather rejoice to overcome it, and humble yourselves by doing the will of others. Those who love to do their own will, want no devil to tempt them, being their own worst tempters.” He said, “Evil cannot be cast out by evil; wherefore if any one doth evil to you, do good to him, that you may overcome his evil by your good.” He also said, “He that is quarrelsome, or is apt to murmur and complain, can be no monk; he that renders evil for evil can be no monk; he that is passionate can be no monk.” It was another saying of this holy abbot, that, “Nothing gives so much pleasure to the enemy, as when a person will not discover his temptations to his superior or director.” St. Pœmen died about the year 451, and is commemorated on this day in the Roman Martyrology, and in the Menæ of the Greeks, who in their great office style him, “The Lamp of the universe, and the Pattern of monks.” See the histories of the Fathers of the desert, published by Rosweide, D’Andilly, and Cotelier; the collection of the Bollandists, t. 6, Augusti, p. 25. Tillemont, t. 15, p. 147, and F. Marin, t. 3, p. 150.

AUGUST 27 — ST. HUGH OF LINCOLN, M

He was a Christian child eleven years old, who was spit upon and scourged, had his nose and upper lip cut off, and some of his upper teeth broken out; and was at length crucified, and pierced in the side with a spear, by one Joppin, and certain other Jews in that city, out of hatred to Christ, on Friday the 27th of August, 1255. By an order of king Henry III. and his parliament assembled at Reading, Joppin, who confessed the whole crime, and the rest of the murderers, were condemned to be tied by the heels to young horses, and dragged to death, and afterward hung on gibbets. See Matthew Paris, p. 912, and the Annals of the monastery of Burton in Staffordshire, printed at Oxford, 1684. Hearne, Not. in Gul. Neubrig, t. 3. p. 670.

AUGUST 27 — ST. JOSEPH CALASANCTIUS, C

Founder of the poor regular clergy of the pious schools of the Mother of God, a native of Petralta, in Arragon, of a noble family. He sanctified his youth by all virtues from his infancy, particularly by charity and prayer. At school it was his custom zealously to instruct his companions in mysteries of faith and in the most perfect methods of prayer. He consecrated himself to God by a vow of virginity, and distinguished himself in his studies, first of humanity and philosophy, and afterward of divinity, at Valencia. New Castile, Arragon, and Catalonia were successively edified by the sanctity of his life, and his apostolic labors. Going to Rome, he was enrolled in the confraternity of the Christian doctrine, in which zealous employment he soon saw the infinite importance of instructing children early in the knowledge and spirit of religion. Hereupon he particularly devoted himself to this part of the pastoral charge, though he gave also much time to visit, relieve, and exhort to perfect virtue, all the sick and all the poor and destitute; in which, by his courage and patience, he seemed a perpetual miracle of fortitude, and another Job. He had labored thus twenty years, when Paul V. in 1617, allowed him and his companions to form themselves into a congregation under simple vows, which, in 1621, Gregory XV. changed into solemn religious vows, and gave them the name which they still bear. In 1656 Alexander VII. brought them back to their former state of simple vows. ButClement IX. in 1669, raised them again into a religious order by solemn vows, which Innocent XI. confirmed, with a grant of new privileges, in 1689. They teach philosophy, divinity, mathematics, the learned languages in all the classes, and the first elements of reading, writing, &c. They have houses in most cities in Italy, several in Austria, Moravia, Poland, Hungary, and Spain. St. Joseph Calasanctius, or Casalanz, died at Rome on the 25th of August, in 1648, being ninety-two years old. An office in his honor was inserted in the Roman Breviary in 1769, on the 27th of August.

AUGUST 27 — SAINT MALRUBIUS, HERMIT AND MARTYR*

He led an eremitical life in Scotland, entirely occupied in penitential works, and in the exercise of holy contemplation. The incursions of the idolatrous Norwegians induced him to quit his desert, in order to administer comfort to his countrymen, and, if possible, to convert the barbarians. With this view, the servant of God began to preach to them the truths of the gospel; but death was the recompense of his charity, the Norwegians having cruelly murdered him. His martyrdom happened in the province of Mernis, about the year 1040, in the reign of king Duncan. See Lesley and Adam King.

AUGUST 27 — ST. SYAGRIUS, BISHOP OF AUTUN

He is supposed to be by birth a Gaul, and was raised to the see of Autun about the year 560. He was present at almost all the councils that were held in France in his time, whether for the preservation of faith or morals. He was one of the bishops to whose prudence was committed the difficult business of re-establishing tranquillity in the monastery of St. Radegonde, at Poitiers. King Gontran, who greatly regarded his abilities, going to Paris to assist at the baptism of Clotaire II. chose him for the companion of his journey. That ceremony was performed at Nanterre in 591. S. Gregory the Great gave the most distinguishing marks of the esteem he conceived of his virtue and capacity. When he sent missionaries with St. Austin to England, he recommended them to him, and entrusted him with many important commissions. He granted him the pall, and decreed that, for the future, the bishops of Autun should have the rank of precedence, after the metropolitan of the province of Lyons, even of those who were before them in years and consecration. St. Syagrius died in 600. Ado and Usuard fix his feast on the 27th of August; but in the additions to the Martyrologies, which go under the name of St. Jerom, it is inserted on the 2d of September. A celebrated relic of this saint is shown at Val-de-Grace at Paris. See St. Gregory of Tours, Hist.1. 9, c. 40, 41;1. 10, c. 28. St. Gregory the Great,1. 5, ep. 54, 113,1. 7, ep. 115, 118, &c. Baillet, 27 Aug. Gal. Christ. Nov. t. 4, n. 344.

AUGUST 28 — ST. AUGUSTINE, BISHOP, C. AND DOCTOR OF THE CHURCH

From his works, and from his life, written by St. Possidius, his disciple, bishop of Calama. See the history of his life, diligently compiled by Tillemont, t. 13. See also Cenlier, t. 11, 12. Orsi, t. 8–12; the life of St. Austin, compiled in Latin by F. Lanceiol, and that in English by the learned and pious Mr. Abraham Woodhead, fellow of University College, Oxon, who embraced the Catholic faith about the year 1666, and died in devout retirement at Hoxton, near London, in 1678.

A. D. 430.

So great is the veneration which popes, councils, and the whole Church have paid to the memory of this glorious saint, through every succeeding age since his time, that to load our history with a list of his illustrious panegyrists would be a superfluous labor; and barely to copy the sober praises, which the most judicious Christian critics have bestowed on his extraordinary learning and sanctity, would be like carrying water to the sea. For the name of the great St. Austin is alone the highest eulogium and panegyric, raises in all persons the most exalted idea, and commands the most profound respect. This perfect model of true penitents, this triumphing champion of our holy faith and confounder of heresies, this bright light and most glorious doctor of the Church of Christ, was born on the 13th of November, in the year 354, at Tagaste, a small town of Numidia, in Africa, not far from Hippo, but at some distance from the sea, which the saint had never seen till he was grown up. His parents were of good condition, yet not very rich; his father, Patricius, was an idolater, and of a hasty choleric disposition; but by the holy example and prudent conduct of St. Monica, his wife, he at length learned the humility and meekness of the Christian religion, and was baptized a little before his death. She bore him several children; St. Austin speaks of his brother, Navigius, who left a family behind him, and of a sister who died an abbess. Our saint had the misfortune to fall, in his youth, like the prodigal son, into the most frightful gulf of vice and spiritual miseries, of which himself has drawn a lively portraiture in the first books of his Confessions, both for his own greater humiliation, and to deplore his blindness and ingratitude towards God, to set forth the infinite riches of the divine mercy, and to propose the example of his own fall as a warning to others. If we pursue him in his youth through all those mazes in which he wandered and bewildered himself so long, it is only that we may learn to discover and shun the snares and dangers with which we are encompassed, and cleave more closely to God

St. Austin begins his Confessions by adoring the unchangeable and incomprehensible majesty of God, and by praising his infinite mercy, which in a wonderful manner brought him into this dying life (shall I call it, says be) or living death, into which he himself knew not how or whence he came. The saint thanks Him who gave him this being, formed his body, furnished it with senses, and beautified it with a comely form, and who bestowed on him a mind or soul; from his birth provided him food, and constantly attended him with the comforts of his mercy, commanding him to praise his adorable majesty for all these things, to confess to Him and sing to His holy name, who is the Most High.1 The saint cries out to God,2 “Let thy mercy suffer me to speak: what am I to Thee, that thou shouldst command me to love Thee, and shouldst be angry with me, and threaten me with great miseries if I love Thee not? Is it then a small misery not to love Thee?” He confesses, with regret, that he began to offend his gracious God even in that age which is falsely called innocent, which was passed away without leaving any traces in his memory, and which was, with respect to the darkness of his oblivion of it, much like to that which he passed in his mother’s womb. He accused himself thus from what he observed in other children; for he perceived that little ones are easily possessed with jealousy, anger, and revenge, which they sometimes express by their pale and envious looks; and they require with tears what would be hurtful if granted, and they rage and swell against their betters and those that owe them no subjection, and would have them to comply with their will, and to obey them even in things that are hurtful; they also suck in very early sentiments of vanity and pride. He laments that custom should make it appear against reason for children in this tender age to suffer correction for what certainly deserves reprehension, and what is strengthened by being flattered, and becomes sinful upon the first dawning of the use of reason; whereas there is no age which is not docile, and capable of some degree of correction by the senses, whereby the first seeds of the passions may be crushed.3 He deplores that when he had learned to speak, and launched further out into the tempestuous society of human life, though as yet wholly depending on the authority of his parents and the beck of elders, he multiplied his sins and miseries. By the care of his pious mother he was instructed in the Christian religion, and taught to pray.4 He was made a catechumen by being marked with the sign of the cross, and by blessed salt being put in his mouth; and whilst he went to school in his own town, falling dangerously ill, he desired baptism, and his mother got everything ready for it; but he on a sudden grew better, and it was deferred.5 This was done lest he should afterward stain the grace of that sacrament, considering the great billows of temptations that were like to beset him after his childhood. This custom of deferring baptism, for fear of sinning under the weight and obligations of that sacrament, St. Austin most justly condemns; but then the want of a sense of the sanctity of that sacrament, and the frequent perfidiousness and sacrileges of Christians in defiling it, by relapsing into sin, is an abuse which, in these latter ages, calls for our tears, and for all our zeal. The Church has long since forbidden the baptism of infants ever to be deferred; but it is one of the principal duties of pastors to instruct the faithful in the rigorous obligations which that sacrament lays them under, and to teach them highly to value and to watch carefully to preserve the grace which they received by it.

Patricius, who was a worldly man, and continued still an idolator, perceived that his son Austin had an excellent genius, and a wonderful disposition for learning, and with a view to his future preferment, spared nothing to breed him up a scholar. Here the saint thanks God, that though the persons who pressed him to learn, had no other end in view than to satisfy a desire of penurious riches and ignominious glory; yet divine Providence made a good use of their error, and forced him to learn for his great profit and manifold advantage.6 But herein he accuses himself that he sinned, often studying only by constraint, disobeying the commands of his parents and masters, not writing, reading, or minding his lessons so much as was required of him: and this he did, not for want of wit or memory, but out of the love of play. He dreaded correction, and prayed to God, when a little one, with great earnestness, that he might escape punishment at school, regarding it as his great and grievous evil; for which dread he was derided by his masters and parents.

Though the age of children is frequently indocile to severe discipline,* and stands in need of restraint, yet it is generally better governed by generous motives of virtue and a filial awe than by much servile fear; and St. Austin seems to complain of austere pedagogues who multiply to youth that labor and sorrow through which the sons of Adam are all obliged to pass; whereas their tasks might often be made in some degree agreeable, and scholars might be induced to love them upon principles of duty and virtue; for, “no one,” says the saint, “doth well what he doth against his will.” He takes notice of the miseries of the depraved human condition; for these severe masters were guilty themselves, in their ambitious projects and idle amusements and pleasures, of greater follies than they chastised in the children; only “the toys of men are called business.”† It was a more fatal abuse that these masters by their own passions taught children, whose observation nothing escapes, to authorize themselves in habits of anger, envy, vanity, pride, and the like vices; for the pedagogue, who chastised his scholar for a less fault, in the meanwhile, if overcome in some petty dispute by a fellow teacher, was more racked with envy and choler than the boy ever was when outdone by a playfellow at ba11.7 This, however, excuses not the faults of the scholars. St. Austin humbly acknowledges that he at that age fell also into vanity, pleasing himself with the pride of surpassing his companions at play, and loving to have his ears scratched with vain praises, that they might itch the more. A worse curiosity drew him to the dangerous entertainments of those that were older—public shows, plays, and other diversions of the theatre. He declares that God justly turns sin into its own chastisement, its pleasure always leaving a sting, and filling the mind with gall and bitterness. “For thou hast ordained it, and so it is,” says he, “that every inordinate affection should be to itself its own punishment and torment.”‡

In his studies he liked Latin very well, having learned that language from his nurses, and others with whom he conversed. Whilst he was little he hated Greek, and the perplexing rules of the grammar of that tongue; and, for want of understanding it sufficiently, he could not then relish the beauties of Homer; but the Latin poets became his early delight. Herein he laments that he filled his head with the wanderings of Æneas, whilst he forgot his own wanderings, and he shed tears for the death of Dido, when he beheld himself with dry eyes perishing from God, miserable wretch as he was; “for what can be more miserable,” says he, “than one that is in misery, yet hath no compassion for himself? than one who wept for the death of Dido, occasioned by her love for Æneas, yet wept not for his own death, caused by not loving thee, O Lord?”8 Poesy, however, not only enlarged his knowledge of languages, and exceedingly opened the faculties of his mind, especially that of invention, the ground of a creating or original genius, but this study also gave him a sublimity of thought and expression, by its exalted eloquence, by which, with elegance and decent propriety, it raises the mind above nature, which rhetoric closely confines within its bounds; and to poetry he was indebted for the art of employing in oratory frequent lively images and bold touches.

The saint thanks God for many good endowments of his childhood,9 and for his progress in learning, all the fruits of which he offers to God; and begs that he may be enabled to refer them purely to his service, so as never to speak, write, read, cast accounts, or make use of any other profitable thing that he had learned but for the divine honor.10 He humbly asks pardon for the sins he had committed by taking delight in his learning, and in the misuse of his wit, being pleased with applause given to his exercises above those of many others of his age, which was mere smoke and wind; his wit and tongue ought rather to have been employed in the praises of God.11 He complains that some scholars were more ashamed and afraid of incurring the disgrace of men by a barbarism or solecism, than they were of offending God; and that an orator will sometimes declaim before a mortal judge with implacable hatred against his enemy, or detract from his reputation, whilst he is extremely careful not to let slip any impropriety in his discourse.12 From such a pernicious example he learned to be more afraid of uttering a solecism in discourse than of being guilty of envy, or of deceiving his tutor masters, or others by lies for the sake of play,13 for which sins he grievously laments. He also deplores the sins of theft which he committed by stealing little things out of his parents’ cellar, or from their table, either to gratify his gluttony, or to give to his playfellows. He confesses in particular that one night he and a company of wicked youths stole some pears from a neighbor’s tree near his father’s garden, out of mere wantonness, and a lust of doing what they ought not to do; for the stolen fruit was bad, and they only threw it to the hogs.’ 14 In this sin he laments the strange seduction of bad company, and of that friendship which is an enemy to the soul. Because some among such companions say, “Let us go, let us do it,” every one is ashamed not to be shameless.* The most fatal rock against which Austin split, was the execrable vice of impurity, into which he fell in the sixteenth year of his age. He was led into this gulf by reading lascivious plays in Terence, by sloth, by frequenting stage entertainments, and by bad company and example.

Austin went to school first in his own town; then his father sent him to Madaura, a neighboring city, where he studied grammar, poetry, and rhetoric. When he was sixteen years old, his father made him return to Tagaste, designing to send him to finish his studies at Carthage; but before he executed this project, he kept him a whole year at home. During this time the young man, slighting the good advice of his mother, fell into lewd company, being induced to it by idleness, and by the indulgence of his father, who had not yet received baptism, and whose only ambition was to make this son a scholar. Youth ought to be constantly applied to some serious employment; a short interval of idleness between coming from school and going to business, often enervates the mind, takes off the edge of its activity and love of application, and destroys the advantage of good habits, and the fruit of whole years; and the disorder is often beyond recovery. Aus in, during the interval of this year, gave himself up to pastimes and diversions, particularly to sporting and catching of birds, in which he bore incredible fatigues. In the meantime his passions grew unruly, and his father took no care of his growing up in virtue, provided he was eloquent. His mother indeed secretly ad monished him with great solicitude to keep himself free from vice; “which,” says the saint, “seemed to me but the admonitions of a woman, which I was ashamed to obey; whereas they were thy admonitions, O God, and I knew it not. By her thou didst speak to me, and I despised thee in her.* Yet I knew it not, and I rushed on with so much blindness, that amongst my equals I was ashamed of being less guilty than others, when I heard them bragging of their flagitious actions; and I had a mind to do the like.”15

Austin went to Carthage towards the end of the year 370, in the beginning of the seventeenth year of his age. There ho easily held the foremost place, in the school of rhetoric, and applied himself to his studies with so much eagerness and pleasure, that it was with great difficulty that he was drawn from them. But his motives were vanity and ambition, and in his studies he was pleased with pride, and puffed up with self-conceit; though he hated open arrogance, and abhorred the abusive wits called Eversores, who made it their cruel diversion to insult and impudently deride others, especially strangers, only to gratify a malicious mirth. Vincent the Rogatist, his one my, acknowledges,16 that he always loved decency and good manners even in his irregularities; but this was no more than a worldly and exterior decency for he plunged himself headlong into the filth of impurity. The world au thorizes many criminal occasions of vice, which, by the sanction of example pass among many for innocent. This reflection extorted from St. Austin after his conversion the following complaint:†—“Wo to thee, O torrent or custom among men! Who will resist thee? who will step thy impetuous tide?” He was by the force of example drawn into wicked company and dangerous amusements, especially into a fondness for tragedy and other stage entertainments, which, being full of the images of the most infamous passions, entertained that fire which had already begun to devour him.‡

His father Patricius died soon after he had been baptized, in 371; but Austin still continued his studies at Carthage. Among the works of Cicero which he read, in the nineteenth year of his age, he fell upon one which is now lost, entitled Hortensius, which was an exhortation to philosophy. By it he was strongly affected, and was inflamed with a great desire of love of wisdom, and filled with a contempt of riches and honors, and from that time laid aside all expectation of magistracies and high worldly preferments Being only twenty years old, he heard the masters speak with great boasting of Aristotle’s book, of the ten categories or predicaments; he therefore eagerly read it over by himself, and understood it all without a master. But this book led him to place God in the category of substance, and to reason of him in a corporeal manner.17 He at length grew weary of reading Cicero’s Hortensius, and the books of the heathen philosophers, because Christ was not mentioned in them, whose name he had sucked in, as it were, with his mother’s milk, and deeply retained. He desired therefore to read the holy scriptures; but was offended with the simplicity of the style: and swelling with pride as if he was endued with a great genius, he could not relish their humility, or penetrate their spirit.18 Soon after this he fell into the sect of the Manichees,* in which he continued between eight and nine years from the nineteenth to the twenty-eighth year of his age. Vice, especially that of impurity, strangely degrades and infatuates the mind, creates an utter distaste and loathing of spiritual things, and renders the soul incapable of raising her thoughts and affections to heavenly objects; this foul vice blinds the understanding, debauches the faculty of reason, and perverts the will, and all the other powers of the soul, of which no example can be more amazing than that of king Solomon. This dreadful blindness accounts for the fall of so great a genius as Austin was into the most monstrous of heresies. Pride was another occasion of his ruin. “I sought with pride,” says he,19 “what only humility could make me find. Fool that I was, I left the nest imagining myself able to fly; and I fell to the ground.” His vanity was soothed and flattered by the Manichees, who pretended to try everything by the test of bare reason, and scoffed at all those who paid a due deference to the authority of the Catholic Church, as if they shackled reason, and walked in trammels. It was by this artifice that he was seduced, and caught in their nets; they promised to show him everything by demonstration, banishing all mystery, and calling faith weakness, credulity and ignorance. “They said that, setting aside dreadful authority, they would lead men to God, and free them from all error by reason alone.”20 Isaac Beausobre hence infers, that before St. Austin’s time Catholics furiously extolled the authority of the Church.21 He ought to have added, that St. Austin afterward, upon mature consideration, found that it is highly rational, with regard to supernatural truths, to acquiesce in the testimony of God, manifested by the authority of the Church derived from him, guided by his unerring Spirit, in conserving unviolated his divine revelation, of which we have the strongest assurance given us by the same revelation, confirmed to us by evident miracles, and other motives of credibility, to which, upon an impartial review, no one can prudently refuse assent.

Modern Socinians, and others, who boast mightily of making reason their only guide, are driven by their own principles into the most glaring inconsistencies and monstrous absurdities against reason itself, as St. Austin afterward discovered of the ancient Manichees: whereas reason leads us, as it were, by the hand to divine revelation, which, far from opposing it, shows its insufficiency in things that lie beyond its reach, and offers its own noon-day light to direct us safely to the most necessary and important truths. By slighting and contemning this secure and sober method of attaining the true knowledge of divine mysteries, so great a wit unhappily fell into the snares of the Manichees. Writing to his friend Honoratus, who was still detained in those errors, to which he had himself persuaded him, he lays open this to have been the source of his ruin, that, relying too much on the strength of his own reason, he despised the direction and authority of the Catholic Church. “You know, Honoratus,” says he,22 “that upon no other ground we adhered to these men. What else made me, rejecting, for almost nine years together, the religion which was instilled into me in my childhood, a follower and diligent hearer of these men, only their saying that we are overawed by superstition, and that faith is obtruded on us without reason being given: whereas they tie none to believe, except upon the truth being first examined and cleared up. Who by such promises would not have been inveigled? especially a young man, desirous of truth, and by a reputation among learned men in the schools, already grown proud and talkative. They derided the simplicity of the Catholic faith, which commanded men to believe before they were taught by evident reason what was truth.” St. Austin frequently teaches, in his other works, that this is the general method of other heretics, and the usual occasion of miscarriages in faith. “It is,” says he,23 “as it were, a rule amongst all heretics, that they endeavor to overbear with the name and promise of reason, the most steady authority of the Church, which is firmly founded; and this they are forced to do, because they perceive themselves to be most contemptibly worsted, if their authority should once come to be compared with that of the Catholic Church.” And in another place:24 “All heretics generally deceive by the ostentatious promise of science; and reprehend the simplicity of believers.”

St. Austin tells us, that the chief questions which gravelled him, and to which the Manichees promised a solution, were, Whence came evil? and the difficulty of forming a clear apprehension of a spirit; whence he was persuaded to imagine God to be corporeal; and, by listening to those masters of error, he was brought by insensible degrees to such folly as to believe, that when a fig is gathered, both it and its mother-tree weep with milky tears; and that if some Manichæan saint should eat it (after it had been plucked by another’s crime and not his own) particles of good intelligences, or rather of the Deity, which were imprisoned in the fruit, are restored to liberty.25 However, soon perceiving that these heretics were more dexterous in disputing against others, than in defending or proving their own tenets, on this account he remained rather a seeker than a perfect Manichee, and continuing among them only in the rank of a hearer, he would never be initiated among their Elect. In the meantime his heart was swelled with pride by his success in frequent disputations with several Catholics, in which, by the subtilty of his wit, and quickness in reasoning, he seemed unhappily victorious; and he engaged several of his friends in the same errors with himself; among others, Alpius, and his patron and benefactor, Romanianus, in whose house he lodged during his studies at Carthage. He had attained to a perfect understanding of most of the liberal sciences at scarce twenty years of age; but says26 of his learning at that time, because he did not apply himself with it to the true knowledge of God: “What did this profit me, when indeed it did me harm?”

In the twentieth year, to ease his mother of the charge of his education, he left Carthage, and returning to her, set up a school of grammar and rhetoric at Tagaste; but she, who was a good Catholic, and never ceased to weep and pray for his conversion, forbore to sit at the same table, or to eat with him, hoping by this severity and abhorrence of his heresy, to make him enter into himself. Some time after, finding her own endeavors to reclaim him unsuccessful, she repaired to a certain bishop, and with tears besought him to discourse with her son upon his errors. The prelate excused himself for the present, alleging that her son was yet unfit for instruction, being intoxicated with the novelty of his heresy, and bloated with conceit, having often puzzled several Catholics who had entered the lists with him, and were more zealous than learned. “Only pray to our Lord for him,” said he, “your son will at length discover his error and impiety.” She still persisted, with many tears, importuning him that he would see her unhappy son; but he dismissed her, saying, “Go your way; God bless you; it cannot be that a child of those tears should perish.” Which words she received as an oracle from heaven.27 She was only comforted by a dream, in which she seemed to see a young man, who having asked the cause of her sorrow and daily tears, bid her be of good courage, for where she was there her son also was. Upon which she, looking about, saw Austin standing upon the same plank with herself. This assurance, and her confidence in the divine mercy, gave her present comfort; but she was yet to wait several years for the accomplishment of her earnest desires, and to obtain it by many importunate prayers and tears, which she could not but put forth in abundance, while she saw her beloved son an enemy to that God whom she loved far more than her son or herself.

Austin had a dear friend, who had been for several years the companion of his studies, to whom he had been accustomed to unbosom himself without reserve in all his cares. This individual companion was in the bloom of life, and, through his persuasion, had been involved in the Manichæan errors. Falling sick, he was converted to the Catholic church, and baptized. Austin rallied him on that score, but he, with an unexpected liberty, told him that if he meant to continue his friend, he should speak to him no more in that manner; and that if he did, he should fly from him with horror, and regard him as his enemy. This young man soon after relapsed into a fever, like his first distemper, and died in great sentiments of piety and religion. The loss of this friend was a grievous affliction to Austin; his heart was overwhelmed with darkness and grief; he seemed to see the image of death in everything that he beheld; his country and his own house seemed full of horror; all places and things where he had formerly enjoyed him were turned into bitter torment, because they were now without him, and Austin’s eyes sought him in all places, though they found him in none. All things in the world were become irksome and odious to him, because they did not restore the person whom he had lost, and nothing said to him, as before everything seemed to do, “He will shortly come to you.” Tears and mourning had succeeded his friend in the dearest place of his affection, and to weep or grieve was become the sole pleasure of his life.28

Not being able any longer to bear his native country, he removed to Carthage, where time and new connexions wore away his grief. Ambition and vanity had likewise a share in that step, the capital of Africa being a greater theatre for the displaying of his abilities. At Carthage he opened a school of rhetoric, gained great applause in the public disputations, and carried away the principal prizes in the theatre for the best performances in poesy and oratory; but he laments his blindness that he was seduced by pride in the sciences, and by superstition, under a false name of religion; following in the first the emptiness of popular glory, the shouts of the theatre, and contentious disputes for crowns of hay, and such like fooleries; and seeking in a false religion to be purged from the sins of his intemperance and lusts, by carrying food to the elect and saints, which was to be moulded in their stomachs into angels and gods, by whom he was to be delivered.29 Considering this his folly, he cries out to God in a feeling and humble acknowledgment of his own weakness: “What am I to myself without thee, but my own guide falling headlong down a precipice.”* He began to apply himself to judiciary astrology, but soon abandoned that fallacious study, being informed that it consisted altogether in tricks and deceit. When he was about six or seven and twenty years of age, he wrote two or three books, De pulchro et apto, or, on what is beautiful and decent or fit in things; which work is lost. He began, about that time, to dislike he stories related by the Manichees concerning the system of the world, the heavenly bodies, and the elements. “This kind of knowledge,” said he, “is not essential to religion, but it is essential not to lie, and not to boast of knowing what we know not.”

There was in Africa at that time a Manichæan bishop, named Faustus, much celebrated by those of his sect as a wonderful man, and perfectly skilled in all manner of sciences. Austin had waited with great impatience for his coming to Carthage, hoping he would satisfy all his doubts; but when he arrived, he found, by a long conference, that he was a good speaker, but said no more than the rest of the Manichees, only explained himself with greater grace and facility. Austin wanted something more than words, and was too solid a wit to be contented with mere form; and perceiving how little same faction he received from this great doctor of the sect, he from that time disapproved it entirely, being then twenty-nine years of age. Nevertheless, his prepossessions against the Catholic faith hindered him from turning his inquiries on that side; so that, after he despaired of discovering the truth in his own sect, not knowing where to find anything better, he determined still to remain content with what he had stumbled upon, till he should fall upon something that should appear more reasonable and satisfactory.30 The truly ingenious and pious Mr. Abraham Woodhead, who, leaving Oxford, embraced the Catholic faith, wishes many now-a-days would take warning to arm themselves against the same pernicious sloth; supposing several now to labor under the like disease, who, as it were, purposely deprive themselves of the grace of being enlightened with the truth, by not inquiring after it, only from the false informers of their own party, to which, by chance, or a false choice, they are first addicted.31

Austin, whilst he remained in this fluctuation of mind, being disgusted at the disorderly behavior of the students at Carthage, resolved to go to Rome, where scholars were kept under stricter discipline. This foreign journey he undertook without his mother’s consent, and herein he praises the divine goodness, which, by his irregularities themselves, brought him to their cure; by afflicting his mother, and refusing to hear her present request, by which she prayed that her son might not sail, God made her redouble her earnestness and her tears, that he might accomplish the main thing which she always requested, which was the conversion of this son. At Rome he applied himself to the Manichees, and lodged with one of that sect, merely on account of former acquaintance, and because he was not yet resolved on any other religion. Soon after his arrival in that city, he fell sick of a violent fever, and seemed reduced by it to the very point of dying, and perishing for ever.32 “For whither had I gone,” says he, “if I had then died, but into those flames and torments which I deserved?” But it pleased God to raise him from this dangerous sickness, through the prayers of his mother, which she never ceased to put forth for his conversion, though she was then absent, and ignorant of his present danger. Whilst he professed rhetoric in that great city, his school was frequented by the most famous wits of that age, and none ever went from it without either being struck with admiration at his learning and parts, which were rendered more amiable by the natural sweetness of his temper; or being moved with envy at the honor he acquired in his disputations; but finding the scholars there often unjust enough to change frequently their masters, in order to cheat them of their salary for leaching, he grew weary of the place; and it happening that deputies were sent from Milan, where the emperor Valentinian the Younger kept his court, to Symmachus, prefect of Rome, who was himself a great orator, requiring that he should send thither some able master of rhetoric, Austin made suit to be the man. He was strongly recommended by several persons of consideration, and having given Symmachus proofs of his capacity, was chosen by him, and accordingly sent.

At Milan he was received with great applause, and the most ingenious persons of that city were soon convinced that he deserved the high opinion they had entertained of him. The holy bishop, St. Ambrose, gave him particular marks of his respect. St. Austin was very desirous of being acquainted with him, not as with a teacher of the truth, which he thought impossible to be found among the Catholics, but only as a person of great learning and reputation, and one who was obliging and friendly to him. He frequently attended his sermons, not with any desire of profiting by them, but to gratify his curiosity, and to inform himself whether his eloquence answered the fame he had heard concerning him. He was very intent upon his words, and found his discourse elegant and more learned than that of Faustus, the Manichæan, yet not so pleasing in the delivery. Austin aimed only at gratifying his ears, and despised the matter which the bishop treated: yet his doctrine, like a distilling rain, insensibly made impressions on his heart, and caused the seeds of virtue to spring forth therein. He began to think there was good argument and reason in what he said, and that the Manichees unjustly derided and cast contempt on the writings of the law and the prophets; but he was not yet convinced of the goodness of the Catholic cause, and he continued in suspense, withholding his heart from giving any assent, for fear of a precipice; though he learned from St. Ambrose’s discourses, that Catholics did not hold what the Manichees charged them with.33 In the meantime, in the pursuit of honors, riches, and a suitable marriage, he was often tormented with bitter anxieties, the remembrance of which made his soul afterward cleave faster and more sweetly to God, who at length rescued him from that tenacious birdlime of death. Being to pronounce, on the calends of January, in 385, a panegyric in praise of the emperor, and of the newly-elected consul, Bauto, who was to be present,34 he was very anxious for the success; and, passing through the streets of Milan, he envied the happiness of a poor beggar whom he saw there laughing and merry, and complained to his friends what torments our own folly creates, only to purchase a tranquillity which perhaps we can never attain; but which that poor man seemed to enjoy in the trifling alms he had gathered that day: “It is true,” says he, “his joy is not real; but that which my ambition sought after was much less so.”

In the search of truth he was still perplexed about the origin of evil, and suffered a secret anguish in his soul to which only God was witness; for neither was his time sufficient nor his tongue able to express the inward tumult of his sou1.35 He also found great difficulty in conceiving God to be a pure spirit, without any corporeal extension, having been accustomed to the gross imagination of apprehending him as corporeal and extended through all the empire of his goodness, according to the idea of the Manichees, which differed entirely from that of the Anthropomorphites, who apprehended the divine substance to resemble a human body. In correcting this false notion he received great light by reading the works of Plato, and some other philosophers of his sect, who speak of the Eternal Word, and of incorporeal substances, in a manner which seemed to him clear and perspicuous.36 He became sensible of the necessity of admitting incorporeal substances, though (our ideas of them being conveyed to us chiefly through the inlets of our senses) we apprehend them imperfectly, and express them by analogical terms drawn from corporeal images. He therefore acknowledged that God must necessarily be an eternal, infinite, incomprehensible, and unchangeable being, and a most pure and perfect spirit; also that there is nothing in the creation absolutely evi1.37 He seemed to hear the divine voice crying to him from on high, “I am the meat of those that are grown up: grow thou up, and thou shalt feed upon me: neither shalt thou convert me into thee, like thy corporeal food; but thou shalt be changed into me.”38

He found the writings of the Platonic philosophers bred in his soul pride, and not humility, making him to have a mind to seem wise, and leaving him full of his punishment, instead of teaching him to bewail his own misery. Finding nothing in them about the great mystery of man’s redemption, of Christ’s incarnation, he with great eagerness of mind betook himself to read the New Testament, especially the writings of St. Paul, in which he then began to take great delight. Here he found the testimonies of the Old Testament admirably illustrated, the glory of heaven displayed, and the way clearly pointed out which leadeth us thither; here he learned that which he had long felt, that he had a law in his members warring against the law in his mind, and that nothing could deliver him from this body of death but the grace of Jesus Christ. He perceived an infinite difference between the doctrine of him who styled himself the last of the apostles, and that of those proud philosophers who esteemed themselves the greatest of men.39 Austin himself was now convinced of the truth and excellency of that virtue which the divine law prescribes in the Catholic church, but was still prejudiced with such an apprehension of insuperable difficulties in the practice, as kept him from resolutely entering upon it.

Under his difficulties he addressed himself to Simplician, a priest of Milan, whom pope Damasus had formerly sent from Rome to St. Ambrose to be his instructor and tutor, who was then beloved by him as his father, and afterward succeeded him in the bishopric of Milan. This holy man was in a very advanced age, and had served God with great piety from his youth. To him Austin gave an account of the round of his wanderings and errors, and mentioned his reading certain books of the Platonics, which had been translated into Latin by Victorinus, who had formerly been professor of rhetoric in Rome, and died a Christian. Simplician commended his choice of these books, and related to him how himself had been instrumental in the conversion of this Victorinus; for that very learned old man, who taught most of the senators of Rome, and had the honor of a statue set up in the Forum, embraced the faith of Christ. A fear of offending his friends, the Roman senators, those proud worshippers of devils, from whom he apprehended great storms of malice would fall upon him, made him defer his baptism for some time; but being encouraged by Simplician he overcame that temptation, and, trampling the world under his feet, was instructed and baptized by him. When Julian the Apostate forbade Christians to teach the sciences, Victorinus with joy quitted his school. Austin was strongly touched by so generous an example, and he envied the felicity of Victorinus more than he admired his fortitude; but was still held captive under the slavery of his passions.

He mournfully complains as follows: “I sighed and longed to be delivered, but was kept fast bound, not with exterior chains or irons, but with my own iron will. The enemy held my will, and of it he had made a chain, with which he had fettered me fast; for, from a perverse will was created wicked desire or lust, and the serving this lust produced custom, and custom not resisted produced a kind of necessity, with which, as with certain links fastened one to another, I was kept close shackled in this cruel slavery.*—I had no excuse as I pretended formerly when I delayed to serve thee, because I had not yet certainly discovered thy truth; for now I knew it, yet I was still fettered.—The load of the world agreeably kept me down, as it happens in sleep; and the desires by which I meditated to rise were but like the strugglings of such as would awake, who nevertheless are still overcome with drowsiness, and fall back into their former slumber, whilst a heavy laziness benumbs their limbs, though reason tells them it is wrong, and that it is high time to arise.—I had nothing now to reply to Thee when Thou saidst to me, Arise, thou that sleepest, and rise up from the dead, and Christ will enlighten thee.40 I had nothing, I say, at all to reply, being now convinced by thy faith, but certain lazy and drowsy words, Presently, by and by, let me alone a little while longer; but this presently did not presently come; these delays had no bounds, and this little while ran out to a long time.” It happened in the meantime that one Pontitianus, an African, who had an honorable employment in the emperor’s court, and was a very religious man, came one day to pay a visit to Austin and Alipius; and finding a book of St. Paul’s epistles lying on the table, took occasion to speak to them of the life of St. Antony, and was surprised to find that his name had been to that hour unknown to them. They were astonished to hear of miracles so well attested, done so lately in the Catholic Church, and did not know before Pontitianus mentioned it, that there was a monastery full of fervent servants of God without the walls of that very city where they lived, under the care of St. Ambrose. Pontitianus, seeing them very attentive to him, discoursed long upon this subject, and related that, whilst the court was at Triers, one afternoon, when the emperor was entertained with public sports in the circus, he and three others went out to walk in the gardens near the city, he with one companion going one way, and the other two another; and that these two happened to light upon a little cottage where dwelt certain servants of God poor in spirit, of whom is the kingdom of God, and there they found a book in which was written the life of St. Antony. This life one of them began to read, and then to admire, and soon to be inflamed: and whilst he was yet reading, to think of embracing the same kind of life; for he was one of those who were called agents in the emperor’s service, whose business it was to collect taxes, make provisions for the court, and execute particular commissions by order of the emperor or the prefect of the prætorium. Then suddenly filled with holy love and zeal, and a sober shame, and angry at himself, he cast his eyes upon his friend, and said to him, “Tell me, I pray, with all the pains we take, what doth our ambition aspire to? what is it we seek, and propose to ourselves? Can we have any greater hopes in the court than to arrive at the friendship and favor of the emperor? And when this is obtained, what is there in it that is not brittle and full of dangers? Through how many dangers do we ascend to this greater danger? And how long will it last? But behold, if I please, I become this moment the friend and favorite of God, and such I remain for ever.”† He turned his eyes again to the book, laboring in the inward conflict of his mind, and in the throes of a new life. In the meantime his heart was interiorly changed, and entirely emptied, and disengaged from the world; he often fetched deep sighs as he went on reading, till his soul being wholly subdued by divine grace, he took a firm resolution that moment to enter upon a better course. “I have now,” said he, “bid a final adieu to that our former hope, and am fully resolved to have no other pursuit but that of serving God. I begin from this very hour, in this very place. If you do not imitate my retreat, do not obstruct my resolution.” The other answered, that he would constantly adhere to his companion in so noble a warfare, for so high a reward. By this time Pontitianus and the other that had walked with him, came to the same place, and put them in mind of returning home; but upon hearing the resolution they had taken, they congratulated with them, and took leave of them, recommending themselves to their prayers. Both of them that remained in the cottage, had been contracted to young ladies, who, as soon as they heard of this, consecrated their virginity in like manner to God.

This example, and the discourse of Pontitianus, had a powerful influence on the mind of St. Austin, and raised strong emotions in his breast, and he saw, as it were in a glass, his own filthiness and deformity, which caused him to loathe and abhor himself. In his former half desires of conversion he had been accustomed to beg of God the grace of continency, but so as to be at the same time in some measure afraid of being heard too soon. “In the first dawning of my youth,” says he, “I had begged of thee chastity, but by halves, miserable wretch that I am; and I said, Give me chastity and continency, but not yet awhile; for I was afraid lest thou shouldst hear me too soon, and presently heal me of the disease of concupiscence, which I rather wished to have satiated than extinguished.”41 Now he began to be ashamed and grieved to find his will had been so weak and divided; and no sooner was Pontitianus departed, but he applied himself to Alipius in these words. “What are we doing who thus suffer the unlearned to start up, and seize heaven by force, whilst we with all our knowledge remain behind cowardly and heartless, and wallow still in the mire? What! because they have outstripped us, and are gone before, are we ashamed to follow them? and is it not more shameful not even to follow them?” This he spoke with an unusual and extraordinary tone of voice, and his countenance was entirely altered; and he immediately got up, and went into the garden. Alipius was astonished, not so much at his words, as at his pathetical manner of expressing them, and at the violent commotion in which he saw him laboring within his breast, and he followed him step by step into the garden.

They sat down at as great a distance as they could from the house, and there Austin groaned in bitter indignation against himself. We cannot better describe the tempest and furious agitation of his soul at that time than in his own words. “I now was enraged at myself,” says he, “that I did not courageously at once resolve on what my reason convinced me to be so good and necessary to be be done. I would and I would not; I was, as it were, divided between myself and myself; I shook my chain with which I was fettered, but could not be released from it. Thou, O Lord, continuedst to press sore upon me in my interior, with a severe mercy, redoubling the stripes of fear and shame lest I should leave off struggling, and my chain should grow again, and bind me faster than ever. I said within myself, ‘Come, let it now be done; let it be done this moment.’ Neither yet did I do it quite, demurring still a while, to die unto death, and live unto life. Trifles of trifles, and vanities, my old mistresses, hung about me, and pulling me by the garment of the flesh, softly whispered to me, ‘Wilt thou then forsake us? From this moment shall we be no more with thee for ever? Wilt thou never hereafter taste those delights? From this moment shall this or that be no more allowed thee for ever? Now I heard these suggestions not as boldly confronting me, and opposing me to my face, but as muttering behind me, and secretly pulling me that I should look back upon them; and they somewhat retarded me, whilst I delayed to snatch myself away, and shake them off, and to spring forward whither I was called; and the violence of evil custom said to me, ‘Dost thou think that thou canst live without these or those delights?* But the chaste dignity of continency enticed me to come forward, and, to encourage me to fear nothing, stretched forth to receive and embrace me her loving arms full of crowds of good examples. There were great numbers of boys and girls, young men and maidens, grave widows and old women virgins, persons of all ages; and in all these continency was the fruitful mother of chaste delights from thee, O Lord, her heavenly bridegroom; and she laughed at me with a kind of derision by way of drawing me on, as if she had said, ‘And art thou not able to do what these men and these maidens do?† Or are these able in themselves, and not in the Lord their God? He gave me to them. Why standest thou upon thyself, and therefore dost not stand? Throw thyself upon him, and fear nothing. He will receive and will heal thee.’ ”

Austin was exceedingly ashamed that he should still hear the whispers of those fooleries; and the Holy Ghost, inviting him to chastity, seemed again to say to him, “stop thine ears against those unclean monsters. They tell thee of delights, but not as the law of the Lord thy God.” This mighty tempest increasing every moment in his soul, when deep consideration had gathered together all his misery before his view, a very great shower of tears flowed from his eyes, and conceiving solitude to be more fit for weeping, he withdrew from Alipius, who beheld him with great amazement. He removed to a great distance from his friend, that his presence might not disturb him, and he threw himself down under a fig-tree, and there gave free vent to a torrent of tears. He cried out to God to this purpose, “How long, O Lord! wilt thou be angry for ever? Remember not my past iniquities.” And perceiving himself still held back by them, he cast forth miserable complaints, and reproached himself, saying, “How long? How long? To-morrow, To-morrow! Why not now? Why does not this hour put an end to my filthiness?” These complaints he uttered, and he wept with most bitter contrition of heart, when on a sudden he heard, as it were, the voice of a child, from a neighboring house, which singing frequently repeated these two words in Latin, Tolle Lege; Tolle Lege. That is; “Take up, and read: Take up, and read.”42 Presently his countenance being changed, he began to consider whether in any kind of play children were wont to sing any such words; nor could he call to mind that he had ever heard the like. Whereupon, he rose up suppressing the torrent of his tears, and he interpreted the voice to be nothing less than a divine admonition, remembering that St. Antony was converted from the world to a life of retirement, by hearing an oracle of the gospel read. Therefore he returned in haste to the place where Alipius was sitting, for he had left there the book of St. Paul’s epistles. He catched it up, opened it, and read in silence the following words on which he first cast his eyes; Not in revelling and drunkenness; not in chamberings and impurities, not in strife and envy; but put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh in its concupiscences.43 He would read no further, nor was there need; for at the end of these lines, as it were, by a new gleam of confidence and security streaming into his heart, all the darkness of his former hesitation was dispelled. He shut the book, having put a mark upon the place, and with a calm and serene countenance told Alipius what had passed in his soul. Alipius desired to see the passage he had read, and found the next words to be: He that is weak in faith, take unto you; which he applied to himself. Being of virtuous inclinations, and a sweet disposition, he readily joined his friend in his good resolution. They immediately went in and told this good news to St. Monica, who was transported with joy. She had followed her son into Italy, and came to him at Milan soon after he had abandoned the Manichean heresy, and before he embraced the Catholic faith, for which happiness she continued still to pray, and for his perfect conversion from vice and irregularities till she saw both accomplished.

He formerly thought, under the tyranny of evil habits, “that without sensual pleasures life itself would seem to him no life but a pain.”44 And when he became a Catholic and first entertained thoughts of entering upon a virtuous course, he designed to take a wife, thinking it impossible for him otherwise to overcome the passion of lust. Alipius, who had never dragged the chain of that passion, wondered at his slavery; and from wondering was once in danger of desiring to make a trial, and to be drawn towards the same slavery; but the divine mercy preserved him. St. Monica had provided a suitable match for her son, and the choice was extremely agreeable to him; but, when his heart was entirely converted to God, he resolved to embrace a state of perfect continency, and found by experience the truth of that maxim of Seneca;45 “It is not because things are difficult that we dare not aim at them; but they appear difficult because we have not courage to undertake them;” and that of two other heathens:46 “Who sets about, hath half performed the deed.” Our illustrious convert, pouring forth his heart in humble thanksgiving and holy jubilation before God, who had mercifully broken the chains of his slavery, cried out, “How sweet on a sudden was it become to me to be without the sweets of those toys! and what I was before so much afraid to lose, I now cast from me with joy; for thou hast expelled them from me who art the true and sovereign sweetness; thou expelledst them, and camest in thyself instead of them, sweeter than any pleasure whatever,* but not to flesh and blood; brighter than any light whatever, but more interior than any secret; higher than any dignity whatever, but not to those who are high in their own conceit. Now was my mind free from the gnawing cares of the ambition of honor, of the acquisition of riches, and of weltering in pleasures; and my infant tongue began to lisp to thee, my Lord God, my true honor, my riches and my salvation.” In the process of this saint’s wonderful conversion we cannot but admire the power of divine grace, that no one may despair; the victory indeed over evil habits is not purchased without much sorrow, pain, and contradiction to corrupt nature; yet let the sinner take courage, this conflict will at length be converted into happy liberty and joy; but let no sinner attempt so great a work with faint endeavors. It must cost many tears, and a kind of martyrdom. How watchful and strenuous ought every one to be against the first spark of vice, which, if admitted, soon grows a devouring flame, and a dreadful tyranny! This company, this fond affection, this secret envy appears light at first, but nothing is so rapid or so violent as the progress of vice.

“He that once sins, like him that slides on ice,

Goes swiftly down the slippery ways of vice;

Though conscience checks him, yet those rubs gone o’er,

He slides as smoothly, and looks back no more.”47

The conversion of St. Austin happened in the year 386, the thirty-second year of his age, in the month of August or September. At the same time he determined to quit his school and profession of teaching rhetoric; but deferred the execution of this resolution three weeks, till the vacation, which was in the time of the vintage. Then he retired to a country house at Cassiacum, near Milan, which his friend Verecundus (a professor of grammar in that city, who was then a heathen, but was baptized soon after) yielded to him and his friends; for he was accompanied in his retreat by his another St. Monica, his brother Navigius, his son Adeodatus, St. Alipius his chief confidant, Trigetius and Licentius, two of his scholars, and his cousins Lastidianus and Rusticus. Here he wholly employed himself in prayer and study, which exercises he made admirably conducive to each other; for his study was a kind of prayer by the devotion of his mind therein. Here he strenuously labored, by the practice of austere penance, by the strictest watchfulness over his heart and senses, and by most fervent and humble prayer, to subdue his passions, to purify his affections, to disengage them perfectly from the inordinate love of creatures, and to prepare himself for the grace of leading a new life in Christ, and becoming in him a new creature. He wept over the wounds and spiritual miseries of his soul, and he cried out with the greatest earnestness to his Saviour, begging him to stretch forth his merciful and omnipotent hand, and heal him. Against his domestic enemy he had recourse to God, praying: “My whole hope is in nothing else but in thy exceeding great mercy, O Lord, my God. Thou commandest me continency. Give me what thou commandest, and command what thou wilt.48 I know that no man can be continent, unless God give it.”49 He particularly prayed for purity of heart, and the most perfect divine love, confessing that he ought to devote to the love of God his whole strength and all his powers every moment of his life; he desired to redouble his earnestness in it, to repair, had it been possible, the precious time he had already lost. “Too late,” said he, “have I loved thee, O beauty so ancient, and so new! too late have I loved thee. Thou wast with me, and I was not with thee. Thou hast called, thou hast cried out, and hast pierced my deafness. Thou hast touched me, and I am all inflamed with the desire of thy embraces.50 He loveth thee less, who loveth anything else with thee, which he loveth not for thee. O love, which always burnest, and art never extinguished! true charity, my God, set me all on fire.”51

This ardent lover of God, after his conversion, fulfilled the character of the true penitent, in loving God so much the more fervently as more had been forgiven him, and as the divine mercy had raised him from greater miseries; on which account he is usually represented by painters with the symbol of a flaming heart. The foundation of this divine charity and of all other perfect virtues he laid in the most profound humility, the most sincere sentiments of which virtue his writings breathe. In the tenth book of his Confessions he mentions that he made it his principal care and study to watch against the snares of pride and vain-glory, which there is danger of a man’s seeking in the very contempt of vain-glory itself; he also labored vigorously to restrain under the strictest government his tongue, his eyes, ears, and his other senses, especially that of the taste. Of this last he writes:52 “Drunkenness is far from me: thou wilt grant in thy mercy that it never approach me; but gluttony* sometimes steals upon thy servant: thou wilt have mercy that it may be removed from me. A soldier of he heavenly camp said: I can do all things in him that strengtheneth me.53 Strengthen thou me, that I also may be able. I have heard another praying: Take thou from me the concupiscence of the belly.54 Who is he, O Lord, that is not sometimes carried a little out of the bounds of necessity? Whoever he be, he is great, let him magnify thy name; but I am not such a one, because I am a sinful man.” For this he earnestly implores the healing mercy of Christ. This saint had learned the maxim of the gospel and of St. Paul, earnestly inculcated by St. John Climacus, St. Isidore,55 and all masters of a spiritual life, that all carnal passions are to be cut off, and the soul prepared to receive the impression of heavenly affections, by great abstinence and sobriety; for, “as a spring of water cut into many streams diffuses itself over a whole garden, and clothes every bed with green herbs, so if the appetite of gluttony spread itself through the veins of the heart, it will sow over it a thick grove of many lusts, and make the soul a dwelling-place of wild beasts,” says St. Basi1.56 St. Austin had contracted in the world a pernicious habit of swearing. After his conversion, exhorting others to refrain from that horrible crime, he set before them his own example, in what manner he had overcome an execrable habit of that vice. “We also were formerly engaged,” says he, “in that most base and criminal custom: we once swore; but from the time that we began to serve God, and understood the heinous evil of that sin, we were seized with vehement fear, and by fear we restrained that inveterate custom. You say you do it by habit; but above all things watch over yourselves that you may never swear. A more inveterate custom requires the greater attention. The tongue is a slippery member, and is easily moved. Be then the more watchful to curb it. If you refrain to-day, you will find it more easy to refrain to-morrow. I speak from experience. If your victory be not complete to-morrow, it will at least be more easy by the custom of the former day. The mischief dies in three days.* And we shall rejoice in our great fruit, and in our deliverance from such an evil.” In another sermon he says, “I know it is difficult to break your habit; it is what I found myself; but by fearing God we broke our custom of swearing. When I read his law, I was struck with fear, I strove against my custom, I invoked God my helper, and he afforded me his succor not to swear. Now nothing is more easy to me than not to swear.”57

St. Austin, in this retirement, usually after morning prayers, took a walk out with his friends, whilst St. Monica took care of the housekeeping, though she had a great share in their domestic literary conferences.† In them it was his main design to raise by degrees the thoughts of his friends in all their studies from sensible to spiritual things. How careful he was to teach them in all things to die to themselves, appears from the following instance. In a disputation, Trigetius advanced something that did him no honor, and he desired that it might not be committed to writing. Licentius, his antagonist, insisted that it ought to be recorded as a monument of his victory. St. Austin burst into a flood of tears to see them still enslaved to a petty passion of vanity, and reproved them for their fault, praying that God would heal this wound of their hearts. Whereupon the two youths entreated that the whole contest should be left on record, each desiring this for the sake of his own confusion.58 St. Austin testifies that the love of riches or honors seemed then quite extinguished in his breast: that he was never tempted to desire any food which he had interdicted himself, but feared intemperance sometimes in what he ate: that he was determined to shun above all things the company of women: nevertheless he still felt temptations to that shameful passion, to which he had been so long enslaved; but as often as they began to molest him, he was covered with extreme confusion at himself, shed abundance of tears, and cast himself earnestly into the arms of God, begging Him to heal him.59

While he was employing himself in his solitude in the exercises of holy penance and prayer, God, as he tells us, “by his grace brought down the pride of his spirit, and laid low the lofty mountains of his vain thoughts, by bringing him daily to a greater sense of that misery and bondage from which he was delivered.” He read the psalms of David with wonderful devotion, and the words contained in them were like fiery darts, which first gave healthful wounds to his soul, and then communicated to it a divine sweetness, and a healing virtue. By these affectionate words he was influenced with the divine love, and he burned with a desire of reciting them if he could, all the world over, to abate the swelling pride of mankind. He was particularly affected with the fourth psalm Cum Invocarem, of which he has given us a very pious paraphrase in his Confessions; and he could not but censure the Manichees as blind and miserable, who deprived themselves of the advantages of those divine hymns. Deplorable, in like manner, is the misfortune of those who repeat these moving acts of adoration, love, thanksgiving, and praise, without the least attention to God, and who often have in their hearts sentiments quite opposite to those they have in their mouths; whose prayers are hypocrisy, whose promises to God are false and treacherous, whose affections are all pride and presumption, whilst in words they make protestations of humility and contrition. The divine maledictions against the lovers of vanity and iniquity which they recite, fall upon their own heads: pretending to pray they rather mock God, because they have not the interior spirit of prayer. St. Austin being penetrated with compunction and love, found these divine hymns sweet with heavenly honey, and discovered in every word a sacred light; in reading them he was all on fire, and found not what to do to cure those that were spiritually deaf and dead, one of whom he had been; like the psalmist he pined away with zeal, earnestly desiring to see those that are enemies of their own souls, and the divine truth, open their eyes and their hearts to behold its pure light, and to taste its incomparable sweetness. About this time he happened one day to be violently afflicted with the tooth-ache, which hourly increased, and grew so insupportable that he was not able to speak; whereupon, by writing in wax, he desired his friends there present to join in prayer for him to the God of all manner of health, spiritual and corporal. He knelt down to prayer with them; and as soon as they began to make their humble addresses to God, the pain wonderfully ceased. He was much amazed at this extraordinary manifestation of the divine power and goodness, and greatly confirmed in his hope that God, whose beck all things obey, and who is able at once to raise us from the deepest misery, would wash away the guilt of all his sins in the laver of baptism, in which he was shortly to be immersed.60

The time being come when St. Austin was to enter his name among the Competentes, in order to prepare himself for baptism, he came to Milan in the beginning of Lent in 387. He certainly was not behind-hand in fervor to St. Alipius, who, as our saint tells us, disposed himself to receive this sacrament with extraordinary devotion, and subdued his body with great resolution, walking barefoot during winter, which is very cold in that part of Italy near the Alps, especially if we compare it to Africa.61 St. Austin was baptized fly St. Ambrose on Easter-eve in 387, together with Alipius and his son Adeodatus, who was about fifteen years of age. Our saint had no sooner received the sacrament of regeneration but he found himself freed from all anxiety concerning his past life. Nor was he ever satiated with the wonderful sweetness he enjoyed in considering the depth of the divine counsels concerning the salvation of man. He was much moved, and wept exceedingly in hearing the psalms and sacred hymns sung in the churches,62 and God sometimes admitted him into a very uncommon affection of devotion and communicated to him much interior spiritual sweetness.63 He was at Milan when the relics of SS. Gervasius and Protasius were discovered, and was witness to certain miracles that were wrought on persons touching them.64 Soon after this, desiring to devote himself entirely to the divine service in a life of solitude, he resolved to return into Africa. Accordingly he went, on his way thither, from Milan to Rome, together with his mother and several of his friends, where they continued from the month of April to the September following. Going thence to Ostia with an intention to embark there, he lost St. Monica, who died in that seaport before the 13th of November in 387.

Upon this accident Austin went back to Rome, and stayed there till the following year.* He landed at Carthage about September in 388, and there lodged for some time in the house of a virtuous lawyer, named Innocent, and was witness to his miraculous cure of a dangerous fistula, whilst the best surgeons of Carthage and Alexandria were preparing to form a dangerous incision; a sinus which was deeper than the rest of the sore having escaped several operations which he had already undergone. The patient prayed with many tears that God would mercifully preserve him from this danger, and Saturninus, bishop of Uzalis, Aurelius, who was afterward bishop of Carthage, and several other pious clergymen who often visited him during his illness, and were then present, falling on their knees, joined him in his devout prayer. St. Austin was one of the company, and relates how, the physicians coming the next day, he that was to perform the operation took off the bandages, and to the astonishment of all who had seen the wound before, found it entirely healed, and covered with a very firm scar.65 St. Austin made a very short stay at Carthage, making all possible haste to retire to his house in the country, with certain devout friends. There he lived almost three years entirely disengaged from all temporal concerns, serving God in fasting, prayer, good works, meditating upon his law day and night, and instructing others by his discourses and books.66 He settled his paternal estate on the church of Tagasté, only on condition that the bishop should furnish him a yearly stipend out of it for his and his son’s maintenance among their religious brethren. All things were in common in their house, and were distributed according to every one’s necessities, no one among them having the least thing at his own disposal. St. Austin reserved nothing which he could call his own, having alienated the very house in which he lived. The religious Order of the hermits of St. Austin dates its foundation from this epoch, in 388.*

When St. Austin was ordained priest, and removed to Hippo, many of his religious brethren followed him thither, and with the assistance of his bishop, Valerius, he founded there a new monastery, the monks of which St. Paulinus saluted when he wrote to our saint in 394. Out of it came forth nine eminent bishops, who by their learning, and the sanctity of their manners, were so many bright ornaments of the Church of Africa, namely, St. Alipius of Tagasté, Saint Evodius of Uzalis, St. Possidius of Calama, Profuturus and Fortunatus of Cirtha, Severus of Milevis, Urbanis of Sicca, Boniface, and Peregunus.

St. Austin instituted a nunnery of his Order, after he was promoted to the episcopal dignity; and his sister who renounced the world in her widowhood, was chosen the first abbess. After her death, Felicitas, the oldest amongst the nuns, was pitched upon to succeed her; but some demanding another person for their superior, a division happened among them, which St. Austin stifled in its birth, by two letters addressed to Felicitas, Rusticus (the priest who assisted the community), and all the nuns,67 whom he strongly exhorted to union, perfect regularity, fasting, public prayer, strict religious poverty, and ready obedience to the abbess, and to the priest. In the second letter,68 he laid down a regular body of monastic rules, which is adopted also by the men who regard him as the founder of their Orders, both the Hermits and the Regular Canons, though each have added to it many particular constitutions. That it was received also by other religious men soon after the death of St. Austin, appears by the rule of Tarnate, and by that of St. Cæsarius, in both which it is inserted, and by a manuscript copy at Corbie, above a thousand years old. The holy founder lays down the strictest rules of poverty, obedience and modesty; he orders that no one ever steadfastly fix her eye upon another, even of the same sex, this being a mark of immodesty and impudence; and he will have this fault to be always severely chastised, though with more mildness, when the person guilty is her own voluntary accuser. He recommends, above all things, perfect humility; “for,” as he says, “pride lies in wait about our good works, to destroy them; and what does it avail to give our riches to the poor, and become poor ourselves, if the miserable soul becomes prouder by contemning wealth, than she was before by possessing it?”

During the saint’s retirement, his ingenious son Adeodatus, in the fervor of the sacrifice he had made of himself to God, passed to a better life. St. Austin applied himself to pious meditation, and study of the sacred writings. Though in his youth, whilst his ears could only bear the Ciceronian purity and elegance of the Latin tongue, and his mind was captivated and led away by the world and error, he was alienated from reading the holy scriptures by a seeming meanness of the style; yet, when he began to be more conversant in them, and his judgment was riper, he confessed his mistake. He acknowledges, in his books, Of the Christian Doctrine, that the prophets, and St. Paul, surpass in deep sense everything that is sublime in the heathen orators, that this apostle is most powerfully persuasive, and that the torrent of his eloquence must be perceived by the most unattentive reader. He observes this difference between him and the greatest profane orators, that they studied the ornaments of eloquence, whereas his wisdom never sought after them, but they offered themselves, and naturally followed his wisdom. Where he rejects worldly oratory, and declares, that his preaching is not founded upon the persuasive language of human wisdom and learning,69 this he does with a noble simplicity, in which there is a more true sublime than in the highest strokes of art.*

St. Austin had enjoyed his solitude near Tagasté almost three years, when a person of consideration and probity, one of the emperor’s agents at Hippo Regius, a maritime town not far from Tagasté, desired very much to converse with him at leisure about the state of his soul. The saint carefully avoided going to any cities in which the sees were vacant, for fear of being chosen to the episcopal dignity; but there being then a bishop at Hippo, he went thither on this occasion without suspecting any danger. Valerius, bishop of that city, had mentioned to his people the necessity of ordaining a priest for the service of his church. One day, when St. Austin was come into the church, they laid hands on him, and presented him to Valerius, desiring, with great earnestness and loud cries, that he might be forthwith ordained priest. St. Austin burst into tears, considering the great dangers that threatened him in that charge; but was obliged in the end to acquiesce, and was ordained priest about the end of the year 390. The disorders of his youth would have been a perpetual disqualification or irregularity, had they happened after his baptism; but, from that time, he was become a new man, and was then more conspicuous for his piety than for his great learning. Our new priest being recovered from his surprise, employed his friends to beg of Valerius some respite, in order to prepare himself in solitude for the exercise of his charge. He made the same request himself, by an excellent letter, which tacitly condemns the presumption and rashness of those who, without a holy dread, intrude themselves into the ministry. He puts his bishop in mind, that, “There is nothing in the world more easy or agreeable than the office of a bishop, priest, or deacon, if it be performed in a slight, careless, and complying manner; but nothing is more miserable in itself, or more criminal and unjust in the sight of God. On the other side, nothing in this life is more difficult, laborious, or dangerous than this office; but nothing more blessed in the sight of God, if it be discharged in the manner our Great Leader commandeth.” He says, that though ho was formerly persuaded of this truth, he now felt it much more than he had imagined at a distance, and he feared that the Lord had called him into a tempestuous sea to correct him, and to chastise his sins.* “O my father Valerius,” said he, “do you command me then to perish? Where is your charity? Do you love me? Do you love your church? I am sure you love both me and your church. Many things are wanting to me for the discharge of this employment, which are not to be attained, but as our Lord directs us, by asking, seeking, and knocking; that is, by praying, reading, and weeping.” Valerius seems to have granted him this respite till the following Easter; for his first sermons coincide with that time. This prelate, who was a Grecian, and had, moreover, an impediment in speaking, appointed St. Austin to preach to the people in his own presence, as was customary for his bishops to do in the East, but, till that time, was unusual in the West. However, Valerius continued to preach sometimes himself. Austin desiring to live still in a monastery, Valerius gave him his own gardens, which were contiguous to the church, where the citizens built him a house for his monks. This is not to be confounded with the regular community of clerks, which, after he was bishop, he established in his episcopal palace. Knowing that the instruction of the flock was the principal duty of the pastoral charge, he from that time never interrupted the course of his sermons till his death. We have near four hundred extant, though several were not written by him, but copied by others as he delivered them.70 They are not regular orations, composed of all their parts; but familiar discourses, spoken without much preparation. In them he barely proposes the truth with agreeable expressions, and impresses it with some smart thoughts. This kind of eloquence is much inferior to that of the Greek fathers of the same age; but it agreed with the genius of his hearers, who received such discourses with great acclamations and applause, and were frequently moved by them to tears.71

St. Austin perfectly understood all the essential rules of eloquence. Instructing sacred orators, he tells us,72 that a discourse must be simple and natural; and art must not appear in it, and that, if it be too fine and elaborate, it puts the hearers upon their guard. He speaks very well of the necessity of being plain and familiar, though everything that is said should have a suitable dignity, especially when religion is the subject. He distinguishes three kinds of speaking submissively, in an humble, familiar way; mildly, in an engaging, soft, insinuating manner, to make people love the truth; and, nobly, in a lofty, vehement strain, when we would captivate men, and rescue them from the dominion of their passions.† This sublime kind he would have rather full of the most pathetic emotions, than florid or adorned with embellishments of speech. But a speaker who follows the impulse of his thoughts, studies no beauties of elocution, though he naturally uses such as rise from the subject itself.* Though the Latin tongue, in his age, was not of the Augustan standard, all impartial judges must allow that he had a great talent for persuasion. He writes with infinite penetration, is full of noble notions and sentiments, and expresses himself in a pathetic insinuating manner. He knew the heart of man entirely well, and reasoned generally with great force. He indeed often, in his moral discourses, takes passages of the scripture in an allegorical sense, which is always arbitrary, and rather serves for illustration than for proof; in which he followed Origen, the Therapeuts, and latter Jews. On this account the discourses of St. Chrysostom and the comments of St. Jerom are, in general, more useful, as to the application of the sacred writings, in the genuine literal sense.

St. Austin fell into allegorical interpretations by example, and for the opportunity of introducing such moral instructions as he judged most necessary for his people. As for certain fashionable defects of eloquence in his time, this great man was sensible of them; but, having higher views than the common rules of rhetoric, he conformed himself to the prevailing taste of the age he lived in, that he might the better insinuate the truths of religion into the minds of the people, by engaging them to hear the word of God with pleasure;† and in his discourses, though popular, he is always sublime. Fenelon mentions two instances to show the wonderful influence which his pathetic eloquence had upon the minds of the people; an influence which appears more wonderful than Cicero’s victory over the determined resolution and indignation of Cæsar, and which the most florid discourses would never have had, how much soever they had pleased the ears, and excited the applause and admiration of his audience. The first is related by the saint himself in a letter to his friend Alipius. The custom of celebrating the Agapæ, or love-feasts, in the churches themselves, or in the cemeteries, upon the graves of the martyrs or others, and this often with intemperance, was an abuse which St. Austin, by a strenuous letter, exhorted Aurelius, archbishop of Carthage, to procure to be extirpated by an order of a counci1.73 The people at Hippo would not be restrained from these riotous rejoicings on festivals, which they pretended to justify by the authority of their ancestors. St. Austin, who was then priest at Hippo, read to them the most vehement threats and reproaches of the prophets. Then he earnestly besought his hearers, by the ignominies and sorrows, by the cross, by the blood of Christ, not to destroy themselves; to have pity on him who spoke to them with so much affection, and to show some regard to their venerable old bishop, who, out of tenderness for them, had commanded him to instruct them in the truth. “I did not make them weep,” says he, “by first weeping over them; but, while I preached, their tears prevented mine. I own that then I could not restrain myself. After we had wept together, I began to entertain great hopes of their amendment.”74 He had the satisfaction of seeing his people reformed from that very day. The other example is still more remarkable, and the account of it we have also from the saint.75 It was a barbarous custom at Cæsarea, in Mauritania (now called Tenez, a town subject to the dey of Algiers), for relations, brothers, fathers, and sons, being divided into two parties, to fight publicly with throwing stones at one another, for several days, at a certain time of the year. This combat was a spectacle with which the people were extremely delighted, and to draw them from it was judged a very difficult enterprise. “According to the utmost of my abilities,” says St. Austin, “I used the most pathetic expressions to extirpate such a cruel inveterate custom from their minds and manners. I thought I had done nothing, while I only heard their acclamations, and raised their delight and admiration. They were not persuaded, so long as they could amuse themselves with giving applause to the discourse which they heard. But their tears gave me some hopes, and declared that their minds were changed. When I saw them weep, I believed this horrible custom would be abolished. It is now eight years ago and upwards, and, by the grace of God, they have been restrained from attempting any such practice.”

In the sermons which fill the fifth tome of his works, this father inculcates chiefly assiduous meditation on the last things; for “if the Lord’s day (or last judgment) may be at some distance, is thy day (or death) afar off?”76 He enforces the necessity of doing penance; “For sin must be punished either by the penitent sinner, or by God, his avenging Judge;77 and God, who has promised pardon to the penitent sinner, has nowhere promised him who delays his conversion a to-morrow to do penance in.”78 He frequently speaks of the obligation and advantages of alms-deeds, and takes notice that the neglect of this precept is the cause of the damnation of the greatest number that perish, seeing Christ mentions only this crime in the sentence both of the elect and the reprobate at the last day.79 He often mentions purgatory, and strongly recommends prayer and sacrifices for the repose of the faithful departed.80 He speaks of holy images of St. Stephen,81 of Christ, and SS. Peter and Pau1,82 of Abraham sacrificing his son;83 also of the respect due to the sign of the cross.84 He relates miracles wrought by it,85 and by the relics of the martyrs.86 He often speaks of the honor due to the martyrs, as in most of his sixty-nine sermons On the Saints,87 but he remarks that we build altars, and offer sacrifices to God alone, not to any martyrs. He addresses himself to St. Cyprian,88 and other martyrs, to implore their intercession. “All the martyrs,” says he, “that are with Christ intercede for us. Their prayers never cease, so long as we continue our sighs.”89 St. Austin preached always in Latin, though among the peasants of the country, in certain parts of his diocess, some understood only the Punic tongue, whom he found it difficult to furnish with priests.90 To his sermons may also be reduced the greatest part of his comments on the holy scripture.*

St. Austin preached constantly, sometimes every day, and sometimes twice on the same day. He did not desist even when he was so weak as to be scarce able to speak; but he seemed to gather strength in preaching, and his ardor for the salvation of souls made him forget the pains of sickness.91 Wherever he went, even in the diocesses of other bishops, he was constantly required to feed the people with the bread of life, and was always heard with great eagerness; his sermons were received with universal applause, and. according to the custom of that age, with clappings and acclamations; out what alone gave him pleasure was the wonderful fruit which they never failed to produce. Possidius mentions, among other instances of extraordinary conversion, that the holy doctor, by making a sudden digression from his subject to speak against the Manichæan heresy, upon one Firmus, a famous rich and zealous patron of that sect, coming into the church, he gained him upon the spot to Christ. After the sermon, Firmus came and cast himself at the saint’s feet, and, bathed in tears, confessed his errors. He was afterward advanced to the priesthood.

Valerius, finding himself sinking under the weight of his years and infirmities, and fearing lest his church should be deprived of Austin by some other city demanding him for their bishop, procured privately the consent of Saint Aurelius, archbishop of Carthage, and the approbation of his own people, and the neighboring prelates of his province of Numidia, to make him his coadjutor in the bishopric. St. Austin strenuously opposed the project, but was compelled to acquiesce in the will of heaven, and was consecrated in December, 395, having in November entered into the forty-second year of his age. Valerius died the year following.

St. Austin in this new dignity was obliged to live in the episcopal house, both on account of hospitality and for the exercise of his functions. But he engaged all the priests, deacons, and subdeacons that lived with him, to renounce all property, and to engage themselves to embrace the rule he established there; nor did he admit any to holy orders who did not bind themselves to the same manner of life. Herein he was imitated by several other bishops, and this was the original of Regular Canons, in imitation of the apostles. Possidius tells us, that the saint’s clothes and furniture were modest, but decent—not slovenly. No silver was used in his house, except spoons. His dishes were of earth, wood, or marble. He exercised hospitality, but his table was frugal; besides herbs and pulse, some flesh was served up for strangers and the sick; nor was wine wanting; but a quantity was regulated, which no guest was ever allowed to exceed. At table he loved rather reading or literary conferences than secular conversation, and, to warn his guests to shun detraction, he had the following distich written upon his table:

This board allows no vile detractor place,

Whose tongue shall charge the absent with disgrace.*

If any fell into that vice in his presence, he warned them of it, without distinction of persons, and to show his dislike, suddenly rose, and withdrew into his chamber, as Possidius had seen him frequently do. All his clerks who lived with him, ate at the same table, and were clothed out of the common stock with himself. He suffered no woman ever to converse in his house; not even his sister (who was superior of a nunnery), nor his two nieces, who served God with her. He said, that though no sinister suspicion could arise from the conversation of a sister or niece, yet they would be sometimes attended or visited by others of their sex. He never would speak to any woman without having some of his clerks by, and being in sight of them, though the business were never so secret. He committed to overseers among his clergy the entire care of his temporals, and took their accounts at the end of the year. To shun whatever might distract his mind, he intrusted to the management of others the building of the hospitals or churches which he erected. He never would receive for the poor any estates or presents which he was importuned to accept, when the donation seemed a prejudice to an heir, or a disinherison of a child. Nor could any age afford a greater example of perfect disinterestedness. He was aware how easily avarice creeps unperceived into the heart, and, like a moth, devours the best actions, no less than vanity, if it taints them with its venomous blast; and he was continually upon his guard against himself, lest either of these contagious evils should infect his soul, and secretly entangle his affections. He employed whatever could be spared of the revenues of his Church in relieving the poor, as he had before given his own patrimony for their relief. Possidius says that he sometimes melted down part of the sacred vessels to redeem captives; in which he was authorized by the example of St. Ambrose. In several of his letters and sermons, mention is made of the custom he had prevailed upon his flock to establish, of clothing all the poor of each parish once a year. He was not afraid sometimes to contract considerable debts to procure comfort and subsistence for the distressed. But his zeal and charity for the spiritual welfare of others seemed to have no bounds. “I desire not to be saved without you,” said he to his people,92 like another Moses or St. Paul “What shall I desire? what shall I say? why am I bishop? why am I it the world, only to live in Jesus Christ? but to live in him with you. This is my passion, my honor, my glory, my joy, and riches.”

There perhaps never was a man endowed by nature with a more affectionate and friendly soul than the great St. Austin; but his tender and benevolent disposition was exceedingly heightened and improved by the nobler supernatural motive, and most powerful influence of holy charity and religion; of which his letters, and the sequel of the history of his life will furnish many examples. He conversed freely with infidels, and often invited them to his table;93 but generally refused to eat with Christians whose conduct was publicly scandalous and disorderly, and was severe in subjecting their crimes to canonical penance and to the censures of the Church.94 He never wanted courage to oppose iniquity without respect of persons, though he never forgot the rules of charity, meekness, and good-breeding; witness the manner in which he reproved one Romulus for the oppression of his poor vassals,95 and others. He complains that some sins were by custom become so common, that though he condemned them, he durst not oppose the torrent too violently for fear of doing much harm and no good, should he attempt to extirpate them by excommunication; yet he trembled lest he should be rendered culpable by remissness. Whereupon he cried out, “Wo to the sins of men who only fear those crimes that are rare! But as to those that are common, though so grievous that they shut the gates of heaven, through the force of custom, we are constrained to tolerate them, and by tolerating fear we may ourselves become guilty. May it please thy mercy, O Lord, that we may not be condemned as not having done all that might be done to hinder them.”96 Prayer and advice were the means by which he sought direction in such difficulties. Erasmus,97 considering his immense labors and indefatigable zeal for the salvation of souls, says of him, “In the epistles and other writings of this holy man, how manifestly do his piety, charity, meekness, gentleness, kindness, love of concord, and zeal for the house of God appear! What doth he not endeavor! How doth he labor! How doth he turn and change himself into all shapes! If there appear the least hope of drawing one pagan to Christ, or one heretic to the Church, how doth he condescend, how doth he, as St. Paul saith, change his voice!—How anxiously doth he intercede for those wicked Circumcellions who deserved more than one death! Who ever solicited more for his friends than he doth for his enemies? With what pangs doth he bring forth all to Christ! How diligently doth he endeavor to save all, and lose none! How grievously is he afflicted when any scandal ariseth! Methinks I see the hen in the gospel, solicitous and anxious to gather and cherish her chickens under her wings. In him alone, as in a mirror, may be seen a perfect bishop, such a one as St. Paul describeth.” Causes being at that time often carried by appeal from the secular courts to the bishops, St. Austin was obliged sometimes to hear them the whole day fasting, which he did diligently, affectionately, and patiently, making use of every means to reconcile the parties amicably, and, whether they were Christians or infidels, to draw them to God; but he complained of the distraction of this charge, which only charity made supportable to him. He scarce ever made any other visits than to orphans, widows, the sick, and other distressed persons. He practised the three maxims of Saint Ambrose; first, never to make matches for any persons, lest they should prove unhappy; secondly, never to persuade any to be soldiers; and, thirdly, never to go to feasts in his own city, lest they should become frequent, and he should be drawn into intemperance, and much loss of his precious time.98

The epistles of great men are generally interesting and curious both for illustrating their history, and giving the genuine portraiture of their mind. Those of St. Austin are particularly so, not only on these accounts, but also for the importance of the subjects treated in them. Several are so many excellent and learned treatises, and contain many admirable instructions for the practice of perfect virtue. In them he mentions his own frequent indispositions, and the habitual weakness of his constitution. In the thirty-eighth to Profuturus (n. 397), he says he was confined to his bed under violent pain, but adds, “Though I suffer, yet I am well, because I am as God would have me to be; for when we will not what he wills, it is we that are in the fault, as he can neither do, nor permit anything but what is just.” In the thirty-sixth he answereth Casulanus about the fast of Saturday, that the Church observes fasting on Wednesdays and Fridays, because the Jews formed their conspiracy to put Christ to death on Wednesday, and executed it on Friday. As to Saturday, he bids him follow the custom of the place where he should be, according to the rule of St. Ambrose, who told his mother, “When I am here (at Milan) I do not fast upon Saturdays; when I am at Rome, I fast upon that day.” If the custom of the place be not uniform, as in many churches in Africa, he advises him to do as the bishop of the place should do or direct. He gives the same answer in his fifty-fourth to Januarius. He says in the same that they do well who communicate daily, provided it be done worthily, and with the humility of Zaccheus when he received Christ under his roof; but that they are also to be commended who sometimes imitate the humble centurion, and set apart only Sundays and Saturdays, or certain other days, for communicating, in order to do it with greater devotion. He lays down this principle, that a custom universally received in the Church must be looked upon as settled by the apostles or by general council, as the annual celebrations of Easter, Pentecost, the Ascension, and Passion of Christ. He says, that though the faithful at first communicated after supper, the apostles afterward ordained that out of reverence to so great a sacrament, all should communicate fasting.

In the fifty-fifth, to the same Januarius, he speaks of Lent and other laws of the Church; but says, that certain rites and customs may be sometimes practised by particulars which are only tolerated by the Church, and may be sometimes such as are better rejected than observed. It would be tedious to mention all the important points of faith and discipline which he discusses in many of his epistles; but devout persons will find nothing more agreeable than the perfect maxims of Christian virtue which he inculcates. With what charity and tenderness does he comfort Crysinus under temporal losses and calamities, putting him in mind that God is our only good, and a good which can never fail us, if we study truly to belong to him! If he suffers us to be afflicted in this world, it is only for our greater advantage.99 He explains the duties of a wife towards her husband in his letter to Ecdicia,100 showing her that she was obliged to condescend and conform herself to the humor of her morose husband not only in duties which she essentially owed him, but also in things indifferent; that she ought not to wear black clothes seeing this gave him offence; and she might be humble in mind in rich and gay dress (provided it were modest, and not such as the apostle condemns if he should insist upon her wearing such. He tells her she ought, in all things reasonable, to agree with her husband as to the manner of educating their son, and rather leave to him the chief care of it when he required it. He severely chides her for having given goods and money to the poor without his tacit consent, and obliges her to ask his pardon for it, whether his unwillingness to allow her extraordinary charities proceeded from a just and prudent care to provide for their son, or from any imperfect motive. He exhorts her to gain him by meekness and charity, and to endeavor by all means to reclaim him from his adulteries and other vices, especially by praying for him. “Pray for him,” says the saint, “and from the bottom of your heart. For tears are, as it were, the blood of a heart pierced with grief,” &c. In like manner did he press upon husbands the respect, tender affection, and just condescension which they owe to their wives; and so with regard to other states.

The documents he gave to Proba are more general; Proba Falconia, the widow of Probus, who had been prefect of the prætorium and consul, in 371, withdrew into Africa with her mother-in-law Juliana, and her daughter Demetrias, after Alaric the Goth had plundered Rome. This holy widow being sensible that assiduous prayer was her chief duty, desired St. Austin to send her some instructions in writing about the manner how she ought to pray. The saint told her,101 she must learn to despise the world and its pleasures, and sigh after the true happiness of divine grace and charity, which is to be the principal object of all our prayers; that prayer must be made by the earnest cry of the heart, and ought to be without ceasing, by the continued burning desire of the soul seeking God; secondly, by having regular hours for daily devotions; and, thirdly, by frequently raising our hearts to God during all our actions with fervent aspirations, in imitation of the Egyptian monks. He gave her an exposition of the Lord’s Prayer, adding, that we are to recommend to God not only our spiritual, but also our corporal necessities, especially our health, that we may consecrate it to the divine service; for without health all other temporal blessings avail us little; but this and other temporal favors we must ask with resignation to the divine will, and with a view to our spiritual advantage, lest, in punishment of our impatience, God should give us them when they are pernicious to our souls, as he granted in anger the flesh meat which the Jews in the wilderness asked with murmuring, and at the same time visited them with the chastisement of their gluttony and rebellion:102 whereas he refused to hear St. Paul, because a trial was more expedient, for him.103

We have a remarkable instance of St. Austin’s meekness and humility, in his controversy with St. Jerom. The latter, in his exposition of the epistle of St. Paul to the Galatians, had explained the passage of his withstanding and blaming St. Peter for withdrawing himself from the table of the Gentiles upon the arrival of the Jewish converts,104 as if this had been a mere collusion between the apostles to prevent the scandal of either party, and as if St. Paul did not think St. Peter in any fault; because he allowed the observance of such legal ceremonies at that time no less than St. Peter did. St. Austin, in 395, being only priest, wrote to him against this exposition,105 showing, that though the apostles certainly agreed in doctrine, yet in this action of St. Peter there was an indiscretion of inadvertence which gave to the Gentile converts an occasion of scandal; and, that if St. Paul did not blame him seriously he must have been guilty of an officious lie (which cannot be denied), and by admitting such a fallacy any passage in the scripture may be eluded in the like manner. This letter of St. Austin happened, by the detention and death of the bearer, never to be delivered. In 397, St. Austin being then bishop, wrote to St. Jerom another letter upon the same subject,106 which, by another accident, fell into the hands of several persons in Italy, and was only sent to St. Jerom in Palestine accidentally by one of them; at which St. Jerom took offence. Several other letters passed between them on this affair,107 in which St. Austin shows that the apostles tolerated for some time the ceremonies of the Jewish law, that they might be abrogated by insensible degrees, and the synagogue buried with honor. He conjures St. Jerom by the meekness of Christ to pardon him what he had offended him in, thankfully submits himself to his reprehension and reproof, professing himself always ready to be taught by him as his master, and corrected by him as his censor, and desires to drop the inquiry, if it caused any breach of friendship, that they might provide for their mutual salvation.108 “I entreat you again and again,” says he in another letter, “to correct me confidently when you perceive me to stand in need of it; for, though the office of a bishop be greater than that of a priest, yet in many things is Austin inferior to Jerom.”109 The saint imputes the whole blame of this dispute to himself, and his own negligence, because he had not added, that the toleration of the legal rites only belonged to that time when the New Law began to be promulgated.110 St. Jerom afterward tacitly came over to St. Austin’s opinion,111 which is confirmed by the general suffrage of theologians, St. Austin grieved exceedingly to see the debate betwixt him and Ruffinus carried on with warmth, and conjured them with the greatest tenderness imaginable to forbear invectives. “Could I meet you both together in any place,” said he, “I would fall down at your feet, I would weep as long as I were able, I would beseech as much as I love you, sometimes each for himself, then each one for the other, and for many others, especially the weak for whom Christ died.”112 This saint always dreaded the itch of vain-glory in literary contests, in which men love an opinion, as he says, “Not because it is true, but because it is their own, and they dispute, not for the truth, but for the victory.” For his part, he was so much upon his guard to shun this rock, that charity and humility were nowhere more visibly the governing principles of his heart than on such occasions.

He trembled always at the danger of secret complacency, or vain-glory, amidst the praises of others. Thus he writes113 of this temptation in his Confessions: “We are daily assaulted, O Lord, with these temptations; we are tempted without ceasing. The tongues of men are as a furnace, in which we are daily tried. Thou knowest the groans of my heart to Thee concerning this thing, and the floods of my eyes. For I cannot easily discover the advances that I make towards being more clean from this plague; and I very much dread my hidden sins, which are seen by thine eyes, but not by mine. In other temptations I have some way by which I may try myself; but none at all in this.” He complains, in a letter to Aurelius, archbishop of Carthage, much more bitterly how subtly and imperceptibly this dangerous vice insinuates itself into our souls, adding, “This I write to discover my evils to you, that you may know in what things to pray to God for my infirmities.” Sincere humility made him love, at every turn, to confess his ignorance, and no less readily than candidly often to say, “I know it not;”114 an answer which does more honor to a true genius than the greatest display of wit and learning; yet which costs so much to many, that they often turn themselves into every shape rather than make this humble acknowledgment, as the judicious Carthusian of Gaillon, F. Bonaventure, remarks, speaking of the great and truly humble cardinal Bellarmin.115 He showed the greatest deference for the opinion of others, and with unfeigned humility asked their advice in the paths of virtue, and submitted himself and his works to their censure. Nothing gave him greater confusion and mortification than the esteem of others, or their opinion of his learning.116

From this sincere humility St. Austin wrote his Confessions, or praises of the divine mercy and justice, about the year 397, not long after he was made bishop, when all the world admired his sanctity, and he enjoyed the greatest honor and fame. Possidius assures us, that his main design in composing this work, was to study his own humiliation, and to endeavor that no one should think of him above that which he confessed himself to be. He therefore divulged all the sins of his youth in the nine first books, and, in the tenth, published many imperfections to which he was still subject, humbly begging the intercession of all Christians in his behalf. The saint himself sending this book to count Darius, tells him,117 that, “The caresses of this world are more dangerous than its persecutions. See what I am from this book: believe me who bear testimony of myself, and regard not what others say of me. Praise with me the goodness of God for the great mercy he hath shown in me, and pray for me, that he will be pleased to finish what he hath begun in me, and that he never suffer me to destroy myself.” St. Austin says in his second book of his Retractations, that he compiled this work also to excite both himself and other men to praise God, ever just, and ever good, and to raise up our understanding and affections to Him. He has interspersed in it sublime and solid reflections on the greatness and goodness of God, the vanity of the world, and the miseries of sin, with most useful instructions for furthering the spiritual life in our souls. Ever since this work has been written, it has been always read by pious persons with delight and admiration. The saint having given an account of his own actions in the ten first books, in the three last takes occasion to speak of his love for the holy scriptures, and discusses several metaphysical difficulties concerning time, and the creation of the world, or the first part of the history of Genesis, against the Manichees.

Those heretics were the first against whom he exerted his zeal, after his conversion from that impious sect.* When he was made priest at Hippo, he grieved to see that great numbers in that city were infected with this pestilential heresy, and he challenged Fortunatus, their priest, to a conference. This was accepted, and it lasted two days; one dispute turned principally or the origin of evil, which St. Austin proved to be derived from the freewill of the creature; which article of freewill he demonstrates, because, without it, neither law nor punishment could be just. Fortunatus, who, as Beausobre observes, was a very learned and able disputant, was so pressed as to have nothing to say, but that he would confer with the heads of his sect. Out of shame he withdrew from Hippo very soon after, and his flight gave occasion to the conversion of a great part of his deluded flock. Faustus, a native of Milevis, and bishop of the Manichees, in Africa, was the idol of his sect in that country, and by his eloquence, his affected modesty, courtesy, and agreeable, winning behavior, perverted many. He boasted that he had forsaken all things to obey the gospel, whereas he had been master of nothing in the world to renounce, and led a voluptuous soft life, sleeping on the finest feather beds, and living in plenty and delights.113 About the year 390, he published a book against the Catholic faith, full of blasphemies against the Mosaic law and the prophets, and against the mystery of the incarnation. Beausobre114 admires the elegance of his style, which is lively, clear, concise, and smooth; superior in purity of the Latin tongue to most productions of that age; and the author shows great address in palliating the defects of his sect, and in giving an ingenious turn to his sophistical arguments. St. Austin answered him in twenty-three books, about the year 400, and triumphed over him not only by the strength of truth, and the goodness of his cause, but also by an infinitely greater extent of learning. He has preserved us the text of his adversary, which he confutes.

In 404 a Manichee, of the number of the Elect, called Felix, came to Hippo, in order to reestablish his sect in that city and country, which, by the zeal of St. Austin, seemed no longer able to raise its head. He had been at Hippo from the month of August, when he agreed to hold a public disputation with St. Austin in the church in December. The conference of the first day is lost; but those of the second and third, held on the 7th and 12th of December, are extant. Felix was not so learned as Fortunatus, whom St. Austin had formerly confuted, as Erasmus observes, but he had more cunning. The issue of this disputation was, that Felix closed it by publicly professing upon the spot the Catholic faith, and anathematizing Manes and his blasphemies.

The heresy of the Priscillianists was akin to some of the Manichean principles, and at that time infected several parts of Spain, where also the errors of the Origenists prevailed among some. Paul Orosius, a Spanish priest, made a voyage into Africa, in 415, to see St. Austin, whose great reputation had reached the most remote countries where the Christian name was known. This learned priest informed him, by a memorial, in what these heresies consisted, and requested of him an antidote to preserve the minds of his countrymen against them. This gave occasion to the saint’s work, Against the Priscillianists and Origenists, in which he condemns the impious errors of those who taught the human soul to be of a divine nature, and sent into the body in punishment of former transgressions, till it be purified in this world; and he proves that it is created by God, and that the torments of the devils and damned men are eternal. Possidius relates that Pascentius, count of the emperor’s household, that is, intendant or steward of the imperial demesnes in Africa, being an Arian, insulted the Catholics on account of the simplicity of their faith, and challenged St. Austin to a conference. When they met, he refused to suffer notaries to take it down in writing; upon which St. Austin foretold that every one would give an account of it according to his fancy. Pascentius insisted upon St. Austin’s showing him the word “consubstantial” in scripture; the holy bishop asked him to show in it the term “not-begotten,” which he used; and our holy doctor demonstrated that it suffices if the sense be found there in equivalent terms. Maximinus, and Arian bishop, accompanied count Sigisvult, who commanded the Gothic troops for Valentinian, against count Boniface in Africa, and at Hippo challenged St. Austin to a public disputation, which was held in 428, and taken down in writing, as it is now extant.

The Pagans and the Jews were no small object of our saint’s zeal. The latter he confuted by a treatise, in which he shows the Mosaic law was to have an end, and to be changed into the new law. The neighboring city of Madaura was full of idolaters. St. Austin gained their good will by rendering them some important public service, and doing them good offices. Their grateful disposition towards him he improved to their spiritual advantage, and induced them to embrace the faith of Christ,115 having obliged Longinian, their pontiff, to confess that we must adore one only God, the incomprehensible Creator of all things, and our sovereign good.116 When Rome was plundered by Alaric the Goth, in 410, the Pagans renewed their blasphemies against the Christian religion, to which they imputed the calamities of the empire. To answer their slanders, St. Austin began his great work, Of the City of God, in 413, though he only finished it in 426. Several Tertullianists still subsisted at Carthage, whom St. Austin, by his mildness and zeal, reunited to the Catholic Church, as he also did another sect, called, from Abel the patriarch, Abelonians. Jovinian, the enemy of virginity consecrated to God, had been condemned by pope Siricius and the council of Milan, and confuted by St. Jerom, in 392; nevertheless, his disciples secretly gave out that those who opposed him condemned the state of marriage. St. Austin confuted this slander, by his book, On the Advantage of Matrimony,117 in which he shows that state to be holy, that many are engaged in it upon motives of virtue, and that several in that state surpass many virgins in sanctity. He published about the same time, his book, On Holy Virginity, against the error of that heresiarch, proving this state to be in itself the more perfect, if it be embraced for the sake of God, and if it be accompanied with humility, and, according to its obligation, with a most fervent consecration of the heart to the love of God. His treatise, On Continency, was written a little before he was bishop, to show that this virtue consists in subduing the passions, and that sins do not proceed from a principle that is evil by nature in us, as the Manichees pretended. In the two books, On Adulterous Marriages, the saint shows that a married person, after a separation on account of adultery, cannot take another wife or husband, and resolves some other difficulties concerning the indissolubility of marriage. His treatise, On the Advantage of Widowhood, was written in 414, and addressed to Juliana, the daughter-in-law of Proba. The saint commends very much the state of holy widowhood, though he allows second and third marriages lawful, and gives her and her daughter Demetrias, who had embraced a state of virginity the preceding year, useful instructions.

The sect which then made most noise in Africa, and gave the greatest employment to the zeal of this saint, was that of the Donatists. It has been related in the life of St. Optatus in what manner it took its rise in 305, above forty years before the birth of St. Austin. The first authors of it were condemned as schismatics by pope Melchiades, in a council at Rome, in 313, and by the great council of all the West, at Arles, in 314. Having, in the beginning, violated the unity of the Church, they, by an usual consequence in all inveterate schisms, as St. Austin observes,118 fell afterward into several errors, by defending which they became heretics. Their first heresy was, that the Catholic Church spread over the world, by holding communion with sinners, was defiled, and had ceased to be the Church of Christ, this being confined within the limits of their sect. Their second error was, that no sacraments can be validly conferred by those that are not in the true Church. Whence they rebaptized all other sectaries, and all Catholics that came over to them. Constantine the Great passed severe laws against them at Milan, in 316, and banished some of their ringleaders. Valentinian I., Gratian, and Theodosius the Great published new laws against them, and they were divided into so many different sects in Mauritania and Numidia, that they themselves did not know their number.119 The chief among these were the Urbanists, who sprung up in a corner of Numidia; and at Carthage the Claudianists, the Maximianists, and Primianists; for Primianus, who, in 391, had succeeded Parmenianus in the schismatical see at Carthage, for receiving the Claudianists into communion, was condemned by a party which raised Maximianus to that doubly schismatical dignity; yet Primianus always kept possession of Carthage; though Maximianus was acknowledged by a great number of the provinces. The Rogatists in Mauritania Cæsariensis, were so called from Rogatus, the author of their separation. Each of these sects believed that they alone had the true baptism, and were the true Church.120

The Donatists were exceeding numerous in Africa, and obstinate to a degree of madness. They reckoned above five hundred bishops of their sect. At Hippo the number of Catholics was very small, and the Donatists bore so uncontrollable a sway there, that a little before St. Austin came hither, Faustinus, their bishop, had forbidden any bread to be baked in that city for the use of Catholics, and was obeyed, even by servants who lived in Catholic families. The holy doctor arriving whilst matters were in this situation, set himself to oppose the reigning heresy, both in public and in private, in the churches and in houses, by his words and writings.* Possidius tells us that far the greatest part of Christians in Africa were at that time infected with the errors of the Donatists, and they carried their fury to the greatest excesses, murdering many Catholics, and committing all acts of violence.

By the learning and indefatigable zeal of St. Austin, supported by the sanctity of his life, the Catholics began to gain ground exceedingly; at which the Donatists wore so much exasperated, that some enthusiasts among them preached publicly, that to kill him would be doing a thing of the greatest service to their religion, and highly meritorious before God; and troops of Circumcellions made several attempts to do it, when he made the visitation of his diocess. One day he only escaped them by his guide having missed his way; for which preservation he gave public thanks to God.121 The saint was obliged, in 405, to solicit Cecilian, vicar of Africa in Numidia, to restrain the Donatists about Hippo from the outrages which they perpetrated there.122 In the same year the emperor Honorius published new severe laws against them, condemning them to heavy fines, and other penalties. St. Austin at first disapproved such a persecution, though he afterward changed his opinion, when he saw the sincere conversion of many, who being moved by the terror of these laws, had, by examining the truth, opened their eyes to discover and heartily embrace it; and by the exemplarity of their lives, and the fervor with which they gave thanks to God for their conversion, exceedingly edified the Church.123 And he observes, that their open seditions and acts of violence distinguished them from the Arians, and other heretics, and required several remedies. Nevertheless, he only employed the arms of mildness and charity against them. He even interceded for, and obtained a remission of a fine or mulct, to which Crispin, a Donatist bishop, had been condemned, not only for heresy, but also for having formed a conspiracy against the life of Possidius, bishop of Calama; and did the like for others.* He earnestly exhorted the Catholics to labor for their conversion, by fasting, singing, and praying to God for them, and by inviting them to the truth with tenderness and sincere charity, not with contentious wrangling.124 In 407 Honorius commissioned lawyers, under the title of Defensors of the Church, to prosecute the Donatists according to the laws. This name was before in use, and is mentioned in the council of Carthage in 349, and in succeeding ages, to signify a person appointed, generally by the bishop, to protect widows, orphans, and others from oppression.

The most celebrated transaction that passed in Africa at that time, between the Catholics and the Donatists, was a great conference held at Carthage. St. Austin had, by frequent challenges, invited Proculcian, the Donatist bishop of Hippo, and others of that sect, to a fair disputation before competent judges upon the controverted points; but this they constantly declined, alleging his superior eloquence. St. Aurelius of Carthage, St. Austin, and the rest of the Catholic prelates, in a national council of all Africa, held at Carthage in 403, agreed to send to all the Donatist bishops in Africa a solemn challenge for deputies of both parties to meet at an appointed time and place, in order to discuss the articles which divided them in communion; but the Donatists answered they could not meet to confer with the successors of traditors and sinners, whose company would defile them; and their evasions put by the disputation till, at the request of the Catholics, the emperor Honorius compelled them by a rescript, dated in 410, to meet within four months and hold a public conference with the Catholics, in which he appointed the tribune Marcellinus to preside. The Catholic bishops subscribed to this agreement at Carthage to the number of 270. Marcellinus ordered seven bishops to be chosen on each side for the disputants, and four notaries on each side to take down the acts in writing, with four bishops to superintend and observe them, and seven other bishops for the council of the disputants; only these eighteen on each side were to be present. However, the Donatists, at their request, were all allowed to appear at the beginning of the conferences, but no more than eighteen Catholic bishops, the rest spending this time in retirement, prayer, fasting, and almsdeeds to implore the divine blessing. The seven Catholic disputants were Aurelius, Alipius, Austin, Vincentius, Fortunatus, Fortunatianus, and Possidius. The Donatist disputants were Primianus of Carthage, Petilianus of Cirtha, Emeritus of Algiers, Protasius, Fontanus, Gaudentius, and Adeodatus of Milevis. The tribune Marcellinus was attended by twenty officers. The conference was opened on the 1st of June, 411, and was continued during three days. The Donatists refusing to sit down in such company, disputed standing; whereupon Marcellinus caused his seat to be taken away, and would also stand. The questions both of right and of matters of fact were debated; the very pieces produced by the Donatists justified Cecilian and his cause; and the universality of the true Church was demonstrated by St. Austin, who had the principal share in this disputation, and bore away the glory of that triumphant day, the fruit of which was the conversion of an incredible number of heretics. Marcellinus pronounced sentence as to the matters of fact which had given rise to the schism, declaring that Cecilianus had never been convicted of the crimes laid to his charge, and that had he been guilty, they could not have affected the universal Church; for no one is to be condemned for faults committed by another. The report of all that had passed, having been made by Marcellinus to the emperor Honorius, to whom the Donatists had appealed from this sentence, he enacted new laws against them, subjecting them to heavy fines, and ordering their clergy to be banished out of Africa, and their churches restored to the Catholics.

This conference gave a mortal blow to the schism of the Donatists, who from that time returned in crowds into the bosom of the Catholic Church; many bishops being converted with their whole flocks, as Possidius relates. Their bishops that renounced the schism, were confirmed in their dignities, as had been decreed in the council of Carthage in 407. Yet some of these heretics remained immoveably fixed in their errors and faction. Several of their Circumcellions and clerks, having lain in ambush near Hippo, had killed Restitutus, a Catholic priest, and had beatn out the eyes, and broken one of the fingers of another; and being apprehended they confessed their crime before Marcellinus, whom the emperor had then honored with the dignity and office of count. St. Austin fearing they would be punished according to the rigor of the law, wrote to Marcellinus, entreating him not to use that severity towards them which they had employed against Catholics. “We neither impeached them,” said he, “nor persecuted them; and should be sorry to have the sufferings of the servants of God punished by the law of retaliation.”125 He begged him to have respect to that meekness which the Church professeth to exercise towards all men, and desired these criminals might not be put to death or maimed, but only restrained from hurting others by being confined in prison, or employed in some public works. He wrote to the same purpose to Apringius, the proconsul, who was to be their judge, and was brother to Marcellinus, telling him that the sufferings of Catholics ought to serve as so many examples of patience, which we must not sully with the blood of our enemies.126 Receiving no answer he sent a second pressing letter on this affair to Marcellinus.127 That count was a very virtuous and religious man, and had for St. Austin the greatest veneration and regard; and the saint, than whom there perhaps never was a more tender or a warmer friend, had for him an equal affection and esteem. When the consul Heraclian, who had been proconsul of Africa, rebelled in 413, and being vanquished by count Marinus near Rome, fled to Carthage, where he was killed, Marinus pursued him thither, and put many to death on account of his conspiracy. The Donatists failed not to bring Marcellinus and Apringius into suspicion as if they had favored the rebels; and at their instigation, Marinus caused them to be imprisoned, and though St. Austin went to Carthage, justified them before Marinus, and obtained his promise that they should not suffer, that general afterward, on a sudden, commanded them both to be beheaded. St. Austin was much afflicted at this barbarous execution, and ascribed the death of Marcellinus to the slanders of the Donatists, who were exasperated at the sentence he had given against them; he has left us a moving description of the patience and heroic sentiments of charity and all other Christian virtues in which he found him in prison when he went to comfort and assist him before his death, and bore ample testimony to his innocence, inviolable chastity, integrity, patience, contempt of all earthly things, holy zeal and charity. He mentions, that visiting Marcellinus in prison, and asking him whether he had ever offended God by impurity, or committed any other sin for which he ought to do canonical penance, he, taking hold of the bishop’s right hand, assured him “by those sacraments which that hand brought him, that he had never been guilty of any such sin.”128 This passage shows, as Du Pin observes (p. 153), how careful the pastors then were to visit prisoners, and when they seemed to be in danger of being condemned, to prepare them for death by penance, absolution, and the holy eucharist. St. Austin rejected all commerce with Marinus, and exhorted others to testify their indignation against him in such a manner as might oblige him to a penance proportionable to his crime. The emperor Honorius disgraced Marinus for this action, honored Marcellinus as one who had been unjustly put to death through the malice of the Donatists, and styled him “of glorious memory.”129 In the martyrologies he is ranked among the martyrs on the 8th of April.

About the same time, St. Demetrias consecrated her virginity to God in a religious state at Carthage, in 413. She was a daughter of Olibrius, who had been consul in 395, and of Juliana, and grand-daughter by the father of Proba. In the midst of the delights of a great house, and surrounded with eunuchs and maids who served her, she had from her tender years inured herself to austere fasting, mean clothing, and lying often on the ground covered only with sackcloth. This she did so secretly, that only a few of her maids were conscious of it and most of her pious practices. It was her desire to devote herself to God in a religious state, and she besought her Saviour, with many tears, on her knees, to grant her this happiness, and to move the hearts of her mother and grandmother to consent to the same. An honorable marriage with a rich Roman nobleman was agreed to by her friends, and the nuptial chamber was preparing, when she one morning, encouraging herself by the example of St. Agnes, clothed in an ordinary tunic and gown, having laid aside her ornaments and jewels, went and threw herself at the feet of her grandmother Proba, but could express herself only by her tears. Proba and Juliana were extremely surprised, but when they understood her request, they raised her up, and pressing her tenderly in their arms, with great joy approved her pious resolution. They did not lessen her fortune, but bestowed that portion on the poor which they had designed for her husband. Demetrias received the veil from the hands of the bishop of Carthage, with the usual prayers and ceremonies.130 Several of her friends and slaves followed her example. St. Austin’s exhortations, whilst he was at Carthage during the conference, had very much contributed to confirm her in her good resolutions, and Proba and Juliana both wrote to acquaint him of her being professed, sending him at the same time a small present. Saint Austin returned them a letter of congratulation and thanks.131 They wrote likewise to St. Jerom, and earnestly prayed him to give their daughter some instructions for the conduct of her life, which he did by a long epistle, in which he treated of the chief duties of a Christian virgin, exhorting her particularly to work daily with her hands.132 Pelagius, who was then in Palestine, sent her also a very long letter, which is extant,133 and is one of his first writings, in which he began to discover the seeds of his heresy. SS. Austin and Alipius wrote a. joint letter to Julian in 417, to caution her daughter against the poison artfully concealed in the above mentioned letter.134 Proba, Juliana, and Demetrias returned to Rome, where this holy virgin flourished in the time of St. Leo.

Pelagius was by birth a Briton, as he is called by St. Austin, St. Prosper, and Marius Mercator; and was a monk of Bangor in Wales, not in Ireland.* He had a good genius, but was not solidly learned; his style is barren, flat, and dry. He travelled into Italy, and lived a long time at Rome, where he gained a reputation for virtue. Meeting with Rufinus the Syrian, a disciple of Theodorus and Mopsuestia, who came to Rome about the year 400, he learned from him the errors which he began from that time to propagate, though at first privately, against the necessity of divine grace,135 but he was careful to dissemble them at first, setting them forth by the mouths of his disciples to see in what manner they would be received. His chief disciple was Celestius, a man newly born, as Marius Mercator testifies; bold, and of a subtle ready wit. He was a Scotsman, and is called by St. Jerom “a fellow bloated with Scottish gruels.”136 He pleaded some time at the bar, but became afterward a monk. At Rome he joined Pelagius, and a little before that city was taken, passed with him into Africa, in 409. Pelagius went soon into the East, but left Celestius at Carthage, where he strove to be promoted to the order of priesthood; but Paulinus, the deacon of Milan, who was then in Africa, preferred against him an accusation of heresy to Aurelius, bishop of Carthage, about the beginning of the year 412. Aurelius assembled a council at Carthage, to which Paulinus presented two memorials, charging Celestius with holding the following errors: That Adam would have been equally mortal, and have died, though he had not sinned; that his sin was prejudicial to him alone, not to his posterity; that children are now born in the same state in which they would have been if Adam had never sinned, and that if they die without receiving baptism, they obtain eternal life. Celestius was heard, and notwithstanding his evasions, confessed enough to be convicted of obstinate heresy; so that he was condemned, and deprived of the ecclesiastical communion. He appealed to the apostolical see; but instead of pursuing his appeal he departed to Ephesus.

St. Austin was not at this council, but from that time he began to oppose these errors in his sermons and letters.137 But before the end of that year he was engaged by the tribune Marcellinus to write his first treatises against them. This, however, he did without naming the authors of that heresy, hoping by this mildness more easily to gain them. He even praised Pelagius by name in a book which he wrote against his errors, and says: “As I hear, he is a holy man, very much improved in Christian virtue: a good man, and worthy of praise.”138 But after his condemnation he is accused by Orosius and other fathers of loving banquets and the baths, and living in softness and delights. This heresiarch made a long stay in Palestine. In 415 he was accused of heresy before certain bishops assembled at Jerusalem, who determined to write to the bishop of Rome for information in this affair, and to abide by his answer; but, in December the same year, a council of fourteen bishops, among whom was John of Jerusalem, was held at Diospolis or Lydda, in which Pelagius was obliged to appear, and give an account of his faith, two Gaulish bishops who had been driven from their sees, Heros of Arles, and Lazarus of Aix, being his accusers. Pelagius covered the propositions with which he was charged with a gloss which made them seem excusable, and was discharged because he appeared to be a Catholic; but his error was condemned by the council, and he himself was obliged to abjure it. It is true, indeed, that he only did it in words; for he never changed his opinion, and deceived the bishops.139 After this council he became very vain, and boasted of the advantage he had gained in it; but durst not show the proceedings, because people would have seen that he had been forced to disown his errors. He was content to spread abroad a letter which he wrote to his acquaintance, wherein he said that fourteen bishops had approved his opinion, namely, that a man may live without sin, and may easily keep the divine commandments, if he will; but he did not say, that he had added in the council these words, with the grace of God; and he added in his letter the word easily, which he dared not pronounce in the council, as St. Austin takes notice. The bishops of Africa were too well acquainted with his artifices to be easily imposed upon, and assembling two councils, one at Carthage, and the other at Milevis, in 416, they wrote against him to pope Innocent, who commending their pastoral vigilance, in 417, declared Pelagius and Celestius deprived of the communion of the Church; for he saw the answers of the former in the council of Diospolis were no way satisfactory, as appears from his and St. Austin’s letters upon this affair. Pelagius wrote to the pope to justify himself, and Celestius, who had got himself ordained priest at Ephesus, went to Rome in person, where Zozimus had succeeded Innocent in the papal chair in March, 417. Celestius presented to him a confession of faith, wherein he was very explicit on the first articles of the Creed, and professed that if in any letters he had advanced anything in which he had been mistaken, he submitted it to his judgment, and begged to be set right. Pope Zosimus had so much regard to his pretended submission, that he wrote in his favor to the African bishops; though he would not take off the excommunication, which they had pronounced against Celestius, but deferred passing sentence for two months. In the meantime St. Aurelius assembled, in 418, a council at Carthage of two hundred and fourteen bishops, which renewed the sentence of excommunication against Celestius, and declared that they constantly adhered to the decree of pope Innocent.

Pope Zosimus having received their letters of information condemned the Pelagians, and cited Celestius to appear again; but the heretic fled secretly out of Rome, and travelled into the East. Upon which Zosimus passed a solemn sentence of excommunication upon Pelagius and Celestius, and sent it into Africa, and to all the chief churches of the East. The emperors Honorius and Theodosius made an edict which they sent to the three prefects of the prætorium to be published through the whole empire, by which they banished Pelagius and Celestius, and condemned to perpetual banishment and confiscation of estates, all persons who should maintain their doctrine. Pelagius and Celestius after this lurked privately in the East. In Italy, eighteen bishops refused to subscribe to the letter and sentence of Zosimus, and were deprived of their sees. The most learned and warmest stickler among these was Julianus, bishop of Eclanum in Campania, which see is now removed to Avellino. He afterward turned schoolmaster in Sicily; his tomb was discovered there in the ninth century in a small village. His writings show him to have been one of the vainest boasters of the human race, full of Pelagian pride, and a contempt of all other men, but of quick parts, and abundance of wit. It is sufficiently understood from what has been said above, that the chief errors of the Pelagian heresy regard original sin and divine grace; the former they denied, and the necessity of the latter: they also affirmed that a man could live exempt from all sin, without grace, and they extolled the virtues of the pagans. St. Austin maintained the contrary truths of the Catholic faith with invincible force; and he proved from clear passages in holy scripture, that all men are sinners, and bound to pray for the pardon of sins; for without an extraordinary grace, such as was given to the Virgin Mary, saints offend by small transgressions of a faulty inadvertence, against which they watch, and for which they live in constant compunction; he also proves that the virtues of heathens are often counterfeit, namely, when they are founded in, or infected with motives of vain-glory or other passions; they are true moral virtues, and may deserve some temporal recompense, if they spring purely from principles of moral honesty; but no virtue can be meritorious of eternal life, which is not animated by the principle of supernatural life (that is, divine charity), and which is not produced by a supernatural grace. He teaches, that the divine grace, obtained for us by Christ’s redemption, works in us the consent of our will to all virtue, though not without our free concurrence; so that all the good that can be in us is to be attributed to the Creator, and no one can boast of his good works against another; but God cannot be the author of evil, which rises entirely from the malice and defect of rectitude in the freewill of the creature, to whom nothing remains without the divine concurrence, but the wretched power of depraving and corrupting itself, or at most of doing that from self-love which ought to be done for God alone. It cannot without grace do any action of which God is the supernatural end, nor of which by consequence he will be the recompense; but the necessary grace is never wanting but through our fall.

Through the corruption of human nature by sin, pride being become the darling passion of our heart, men are born with a propensity to Pelagianism, or principles which flatter an opinion of our own strength, merit, and self-sufficiency. It is not therefore to be wondered, that this heresy found many advocates: next to that of Arianism the Church never received a more dangerous assault. The wound which this monster caused, would certainly have been much deeper, had not God raised up this eminent doctor of his grace to be a bulwark for the defence of the truth. He was a trumpet to excite the zeal of the other pastors, and, as it were, the soul of all their deliberations, councils, and endeavors to extinguish the rising flame. To him is the Church indebted as to the chief instrument of God in overthrowing this heresy. From its ashes sprung Semipelagianism, the authors of which were certain priests, bishops, and monks in Gaul, at Lerins, and in other parts about Marseilles. St. Prosper and Hilarius, two zealous and learned laymen, informed St. Austin by letters140 in 429, that these persons expressed the utmost admiration for all his other actions and words, but took offence at his doctrine of grace, as if it destroyed freewill in man: they taught that the beginning of faith and the first desire of virtue are from the creature, and move God to bestow that grace which is necessary for men to execute and accomplish good works. They said, that as to children who die without baptism, and those infidels to whom the faith is never preached, the reason of their misfortune is, that God foresees they would not make a good use of longer life or of the gospel; and that he on that account deprives them of those graces. St. Austin, in answer to these letters, wrote two books against this error, one entitled, On the Predestination of the Saints, the other, On the Gift of Perseverance, showing that the authors of this doctrine did not recede from the great principles of Pelagius, and that to ascribe to the creature the beginning of virtue, is to give the whole to it, not to God. The saint treats the Semipelagians as brethren, because they erred without obstinacy, and their error had not been yet condemned by any express definition of the Church. The principal persons who espoused it seem to have been Cassian at Marseilles, and certain monks of Lerins. Faustus, abbot of Lerins, and afterward bishop of Ries in 463, several of whose works are extant, carried this error to the greatest length.141 He died in 480. The Semipelagian heresy was condemned in the second council of Orange, under St. Cæsarius in 529, which was confirmed by pope Boniface II. in a letter to St. Cæsarius.

The two works which do most honor to St. Austin’s name are those of his Confessions and Retractations; in the former of which, with the most sincere humility and compunction, he lays open the errors of his conduct, and in the latter those of his judgment. This work of his Retractations he began in the year 426, the seventy-second of his age, reviewing his writings which were very numerous, and correcting the mistakes he had made in an humble sense of them, and with a surprising candor and severity never seeking the least gloss or excuse to extenuate them.142 To have more leisure to finish this and his other writings, he proposed to his clergy and people to choose for his coadjutor Eradius, the youngest among his priests, but a person of great virtue and prudence, and his election was confirmed with great acclamations of the people on the 26th of September, 426. St. Austin, however, would not have him consecrated before his death on account of the canon which forbade two bishops to be ordained for the same city at a time but he desired the people for the future to address themselves to Eradius in all their concerns. Count Boniface, a chief commander in the imperial forces in Africa (to whom Placida and Valentinian III. were chiefly indebted for the empire, for which several rebels had contended with them), after the death of his wife, had taken a resolution to forsake the world, and to embrace a monastic life. St. Austin and St. Alipius dissuaded him from taking that step, imagining that in his present situation he was more serviceable to the Church and State.143 By insensible degrees he afterward fell from his practices of devotion, and good resolutions, and having been obliged, by the emperor’s order, to go over into Spain, he there married a second time, and took to wife an Arian woman, related to the kings of the Vandals, which alliance procured him a share in their friendship, though he insisted that she should first become a Catholic. This affinity gave occasion to the general Aëtius, his rival, to render his fidelity suspected to Placidia, daughter of Theodosius the Great, sister to the late emperor Honorius, widow of the general Constantius, and at that time regent of the empire during the minority of her son Valentinian III. Boniface resented his disgrace, and saw his ruin inevitable,* wherefore he made a treaty with Gontharis and Genseric, kings of the Vandals in Spain, and standing upon his defence, defeated three captains that were sent by Placidia and Aëtius against him. St. Austin wrote an excellent letter of advice,144 exhorting him to do penance for his sins, to return to his duty, to forgive all injuries, and if his wife consented, to embrace a state of continency, according to his former purpose; but as he could not now do this without her consent, the saint set before his eyes his duty in a married state, not to love the world, to commit no evil, to subdue his passions, pray, give alms, do penance, and fast as much as his health would give him leave. We do not find that Boniface was disposed as yet to follow his advice. Indeed the step he had then taken made it difficult to provide for his safety; and St. Austin, who was well acquainted how precarious and delicate a matter it is to be involved in the jealousies and intrigues of courts, had no advice which he would venture to give on that head. “You will perhaps say to me,” said he, “What would you have me to do in this extremity? If you advise with me concerning your secular affairs, and the means how to preserve or increase your wealth, I know not what answer to make you. Uncertain things cannot admit of certain counsels; but if you consult me for the salvation of your soul, I know very well what to say: Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. (1 John 2:15). Show your courage—repent, pray with zeal and warmth,” &c.

The Vandals under Genseric, with an army of fourscore thousand men, sailed from Spain into Africa, in May, 428, upon the invitation of count Boniface. Possidius, bishop of Calama, an eye-witness, describes the dreadful ravages by which they filled with horror and desolation all those rich provinces as they marched. He saw the cities in ruin, and the houses in the country razed to the ground, the inhabitants being either slain or fled. Some had sunk under the torture, others had perished by the sword; others groaned in captivity, being become slaves to brutal and cruel enemies, and many lost the purity of their body, and their faith. He saw that the hymns and praises of God had ceased in the churches, whose very buildings had in many places been consumed by fire; that the solemn sacrifices which were due to God, had ceased in their proper places, that is, for want of churches they were performed in private houses, or other unhallowed places; that in many parts there were none left to demand the sacraments, nor was it easy elsewhere to find any to administer them to those who required it; that the churches were destitute of priests and ministers; the consecrated virgins and other religious persons were dispersed into all parts; they who fled into the woods, mountains, rocks, and caverns, were either taken and slain, or died with hunger, and for want of necessaries; the bishops and the rest of the clergy to whom God had been so gracious as not to suffer them to fall into the hands of the enemy, or to make their escape after they had been taken, were stripped of everything, and reduced to the most extreme degree of beggary; and of the great number of churches in Africa, there were hardly three remaining (namely Carthage, Hippo, and Cirtha), whose cities were yet standing, and not laid in ruins. Mansuetus, bishop of Uri, was burnt at the gate of Furnes, and Papinian, bishop of Vita, was burnt with red-hot bars of iron.

Amidst this universal desolation St. Austin was consulted by a bishop named Quodvultdeus, and afterward by Honoratus, the pious bishop of Thabenna, whether it was lawful for bishops or other clergymen to fly upon the approach of the barbarians. St. Austin’s answer to Quodvultdeus is lost; but in that to Honoratus145 he refers to it, and repeats the same excellent maxims. He affirms, that it is lawful for a bishop or priest to fly and forsake the flock when he alone is aimed at by name, and the people are threatened with no danger, but left quiet; or when the people are all fled, so that the pastor has none left who have need of his ministry; or when the same ministry may be better performed by others who have not the like occasion of flight. In all other cases, he says, pastors are obliged to watch over their flock, which Christ has committed to them; neither can they forsake it without a crime, as he proves in terms dictated by the fire of his fervent charity, and with reasons supported by a zeal altogether divine. Representing the desolation of a town which is like to be taken, and the necessity of the presence of Christ’s ministers, he writes as follows: “In such occasions what flocking is there is the church, of persons of all ages and sexes! whereof some require baptism, others reconciliation (or absolution), others to be put under penance, and all crave comfort. If then no ministers are to be found, what misfortune is that, for such as go out of this life unregenerate, or, if penitents, not absolved! What grief is it to their kindred, if they be faithful, that they cannot hope to see them with them in everlasting rest! What cries! what lamentations! nay, what imprecations from some, to see themselves without ministers and without sacraments! If, on the contrary, ministers have proved faithful in not forsaking their people, they are an assistance to all the world as God shall give them power. Some are baptized; others are reconciled; no one is deprived of the communion of our Lord’s body. All are comforted, fortified, and exhorted to implore by fervent prayers the assistance of the divine mercy.”

Count Darius was sent by the empress Placidia into Africa to treat for peace; Boniface produced to him authentic vouchers how much he had been betrayed and driven to extremities by the treachery of Aëtius towards him, and returning to his allegiance, was again entrusted with the command of the imperial army. He endeavored to retrieve the loss of Africa; but it was then too late. He tried to draw off the barbarians first by money, afterward by force of arms, but without success. Count Darius wrote to St. Austin with extraordinary respect, and prayed him that he would send him his book of Confessions. The saint answered his compliments with unfeigned humility, and told him that he who finds not in himself those virtues for which he is commended, is but the more ashamed to see himself thought to be what he is not, but what he ought to be, and adds: “The caresses of this world are more dangerous than its persecutions.” The saint had above others a mournful sense of the miseries of his country, while he deeply considered not only the outward calamities of the people, but also the ruin of a multitude of souls that was likely to ensue; and he prayed often and importunately that God would deliver his country, or at least would give his servants constancy and resignation, and that he would receive him to himself, that he might not be an idle spectator of so great evils. He spoke much to his people on resignation to the divine will under all the scourges which their sins deserved; on the unspeakable mercies, and unsearchable judgments of God, always just, holy, and adorable, and the necessity of averting the divine anger by sincere penance. Count Boniface, after having been defeated in battle, fled to Hippo, which was the strongest fortress in Africa. Possidius and several neighboring bishops took refuge in the same place. The Vandals appeared before that city about the end of May, 430, besieging it by land, and at the same time blocking up its harbor with their fleet by sea. The siege continued fourteen months. In the third month St. Austin was seized with a fever, and from the first moment of his illness doubted not but it was a summons of God who called him to himself. Ever since he retired from the world death had been the chief subject of his meditations, and, in his last illness, he spoke of his passage with great cheerfulness, saying, We have a merciful God. He often spoke of the resignation and joy of St. Ambrose in his last moments; and of the saying of Christ to a certain bishop in a vision mentioned by St. Cyprian:146 “You are afraid to suffer here, and unwilling to go hence: what shall I do with you?” He also mentioned the last words of a certain friend and fellow-bishop, who, when he was departing out of this world, said to one that was telling him he might recover of that illness: “If I must die once, why not now?” How much we are bound to take a reasonable care of our health above other temporal goods, for all the necessary purposes of life, he proves in his letter to Proba:147 yet he often teaches that it is a mark and test of our loving God to desire vehemently by death to be united eternally and intimately to God in his perfect love and uninterrupted praise:148 “What love of Christ can that be,” says he,149 “to fear lest he come whom you say you love? O brethren, are we not ashamed to say, we love, whilst we add, that we are afraid lest he come?”

He was not able to contain within his breast the desires of his soul, in which he sighed after the glorious day of eternity, when we shall behold and possess God our sovereign good, the object of all our desires. “Then,” says he,150 “we shall bend to him the whole attention, and all the affections of our souls, and we shall behold him face to face; we shall behold and love; we shall love and praise. See what will be in the end without interruption or end.” He thus expresses his sighs with David:151 “Till I shall come, till I appear before him, I cease not to weep, and these tears are sweet to me as food. With this thirst with which I am consumed, with which I am ardently carried towards the fountain of my love, whilst my joy is delayed, I continually burn more and more vehemently. In the prosperity of the world no less than in its adversity, I pour forth tears of this ardent desire, which never languishes or abates. When it is well with me as to the world, it is ill with me till I appear before the face of my God.”152 He redoubled his fervor in these holy sighs as he drew nearer his term; and he prepared himself for his passage to eternity by the most humble compunction and penance. He used often to say in familiar discourse, that after the remission of sins received in baptism, the most perfect Christian ought not to leave this world without condign penance. In his last illness he ordered the penitential psalms of David to be written out, and hung in tablets upon the wall by his bed; and as he there lay sick, he read them with abundance of tears.153 Not to be interrupted in these devotions, he desired, about ten days before his death, that no one should come to him except at those times when either the physicians came to visit him, or his food was brought to him. This was constantly observed, and all the rest of his time was spent in prayer. Though the strength of his body daily and hourly declined, yet his senses and intellectual faculties continued sound to the last. He calmly resigned his spirit into the hands of God from whom he had received it, on the 28th of August, 430, after having lived seventy-six years, and spent almost forty of them in the labors of the ministry. He made no will; for this poor man of Christ had nothing to bequeath. He had given charge that the library which he had bestowed on his church, should be carefully preserved.

Possidius adds, “We being present, a sacrifice was offered to God for his recommendation, and so he was buried,” in the same manner as St. Austin mentions to have been done for his mother.154 The same author tells us, that whilst the saint lay sick in bed, by the imposition of his hands he restored to perfect health a sick man, who, upon the intimation made to him in a vision, was brought to him for that purpose; and he says: “I knew both when he was priest and when he was bishop, that being requested to pray for certain persons that were possessed, he had poured out prayers and supplications to our Lord, and the devils departed from them.”155 An authentic account of several other miracles with which he was favored by God, may be read in his life compiled by the pious and learned Mr. Woodhead.156 It was ascribed to his prayer that the city of Hippo was not taken in that siege. which the barbarians raised after having continued it fourteen months Count Boniface afterward hazarded another battle, but with no better success than before. He therefore fled into Italy, and all the inhabitants of Hippo withdrew into foreign countries, abandoning the empty town to the barbarians, who then entered, and burnt part of it. The saint’s body, which was buried in the church of Peace (called St. Stephen’s, since St. Austin had deposited there a portion of that martyr’s relics in 424), was respected by the barbarians, though they were Arians; and his library escaped their fury. Bede says, in his true Martyrology, that the body of St. Austin was translated into Sardinia, and in his time redeemed out of the hands of the Saracens, and deposited in the church of St. Peter at Pavia, about the year 720. Oldrad, archbishop of Milan, wrote a history of this translation by order of Charlemagne, extracted from authentic archives then kept at Pavia. He says that the bishops who were banished by Huneric into Sardinia, took with them these relics, about fifty years after the saint’s death; and that they remained in that island till Luitprand, the pious and magnificent king of the Lombards, procured them from the Saracens for a great sum of money. He took care to have this sacred treasure hid with the utmost care under a brick wall, in a coffin of lead enclosed in another of silver, the whole within a coffin of marble, upon which, in many places, was engraved the name Augustinus. In this condition the sacred bones were discovered in 1695. They were incontestably proved authentic by the bishop of Pavia in 1728, whose sentence was confirmed by pope Benedict XIII. in the same year, as is related by Fontanini in an express dissertation, and by Touron in his life of that pope.157 The church of St. Peter in Pavia from this treasure is now called St. Austin’s, and is served both by Austin Friars, and by Regular Canons of his rule. His festival is mentioned in the Martyrology which bears the name of St. Jerom, and in that of Carthage as old as the sixth century. In the life of St. Cæsarius, written in that age, it is mentioned to have been then kept with great solemnity. It is a holiday of obligation in all the dominions of the king of Spain. A general council being summoned to meet at Ephesus against Nestorius in 431, the emperor Theodosius sent a particular rescript, by a special messenger into Africa, to invite St. Austin to it; but he was departed to eternal bliss.158

This saint was not only the oracle of his own times, but of the principal among all the Latin Fathers that came after him, who often have only copied him, and always professed to adhere to his principles: Peter Lombard, St. Thomas Aquinas, and other eminent masters among the schoolmen have trodden in their steps. The councils have frequently borrowed the words of this holy doctor in expressing their decisions. On the great commendations which Innocent I., Celestine I., St. Gregory the Great, and other popes and eminent men have bestowed on his doctrine, see Orsi,159 Godeau, Massoulié, Gonet, Usher, and innumerable others. An abstract of his doctrine is given us by Ceillier,160 and in a judicious and clear manner by the learned Mr. Brerelie, in a book entitled, The Religion of St. Augustine, printed in 1620. He shows how great was the veneration which the first reformers generally expressed for this father. Luther affirms that since the apostle’s time the Church never had a better doctor than St. Austin:”161 and that, “after the sacred scripture, there is no doctor in the Church who is to be compared to Austin.”162 Dr. Couel says, he was “a man far beyond all that ever were before him, or shall in likelihood follow after him, both for divine and human learning, those being excepted that were inspired.”163 Dr. Field calls him “the greatest of all the Fathers, and the worthiest divine the Church of God ever had since the apostles’ time.”164 Mr. Forester styles him “the monarch of the Fathers.”165 To mention one of our own times, the learned and most celebrated professor at Berlin, James Brucker, in his Critical History of Philosophy,166 extols exceedingly the astonishing genius and penetration, and the extensive learning of this admirable doctor, and tells us that he was much superior to all the other great men who adorned that most learned age in which he flourished. The same author, in his Abridgment or Institutions of the Philosophical History,167 calls him “the bright star of philosophy.” These testimonies agree with that of Erasmus, who calls St. Austin “the singularly excellent father, and the chief among the greatest ornaments and lights of the Church:” “Eximius pater, inter summa ecclesiæ ornamenta ac lumina princeps.”

The eminence of the sanctity of this illustrious doctor was derived from the deep foundation of his humility, according to the maxim which he lays down: “Attempt not to attain true wisdom by any other way than that which God hath enjoined. This is in the first, second, and third place, humility; and this would I answer as often as you ask me. Not that there are not other precepts; but unless humility go before, accompany, and follow after, all that we do well is snatched out of our hands by pride. As Demosthenes, the prince of orators, being asked, which among the precepts of eloquence was to be observed first? is said to have answered: Pronunciation, or the delivery. Again, which second? Pronunciation. Which third? Nothing else (said he) but pronunciation: so if you should ask me concerning the precepts of the Christian religion, I should answer you, Nothing but humility. Our Lord Jesus Christ was made so low in order to teach us this humility, which a certain most ignorant science opposeth.”168

AUGUST 28 — ST. HERMES, M

He suffered at Rome in the persecution of the emperor Adrian about the year 132. His tomb on the Salarian Way was ornamented by pope Pelagius II., and his name is famous in the ancient western Martyrologies.

AUGUST 28 — ST. JULIAN, MARTYR AT BRIOUDE

He was descended from one of the best families of Vienne in Dauphiné. He served with the tribune Ferreol; and knew well how to reconcile the profession of arms with the maxims of the gospel. Crispin, governor of the province of Vienne, having declared himself against the Christians, our saint withdrew to Auvergne, not that he dreaded the persecution, but that he might be at hand to be of service to the faithful; for being acquainted, that he was sought after by the persecutors, of his own accord he presented himself before them, saying, “Alas, I am too long in this bad world; oh how I burn with desire to be with Jesus.” He had scarce uttered these words, when they separated his head from his body. It was near Brioude; but the place of his interment was for a long time unknown, until God revealed it to St. Germain of Auxerre, when he passed by Brioude on his return from Arles, about the year 431. His head was afterward translated to Vienne with the body of St. Ferreol. St. Gregory of Tours relates a great number of miracles wrought by his intercession. The same author mentions a church dedicated at Paris under the invocation of the holy martyr; it is that which is near the bridge called Petit pont, and has successively gone under the name of St. Julian the Old, and St. Julian the Poor. See St. Greg. of Tours, de Glor. Mart.1. 2, Bosquet,1. 3, p. 170. Tillem. t. 5, &c.

AUGUST 29 — THE DECOLLATION OF ST. JOHN BAPTIST

St. John the BAPTIST was called by God to be the forerunner of his Divine Son, to usher him into the world, and to prepare mankind by penance to receive their great Redeemer, whom the prophets had foretold at a distance through every age from the beginning of the world; never ceasing to excite the people of God to faith and hope in him, by whom alone they were to be saved. The more the sublime function of this saint surpassed that of the Jewish legislator and of all the patriarchs and ancient prophets, the greater were the graces by which he was fitted for the same. Some of the prophets had been sanctified from their birth; but neither in so wonderful nor in so abundant a manner as the Baptist. In order to preserve his innocence spotless, and to improve the extraordinary graces which he had received, he was directed by the Holy Ghost to lead an austere and contemplative life in the wilderness, in the continual exercises of devout prayer and penance, from his infancy till he was thirty years of age. How much does this precaution of a saint, who was strengthened by such uncommon privileges and graces, condemn the rashness of parents who expose children in the slippery time of youth to the contagious air of wicked worldly company, and to every danger! or, who, instead of training them up in suitable habits of self-denial, humility, devotion, and reasonable application to serious duties, are themselves by example and pernicious maxims the corruptors of their tender minds, and the flatterers of their passions, which they ought to teach them to subdue.

St. John cannot be commonly imitated by youth in his total retreat from the world; but he teaches what are the means by which they must study, according to their circumstances, to sanctify that most precious age of life; what they must shun, in what maxims they ought to ground themselves, and how they are to form and strengthen in themselves the most perfect habits of all virtues. Let them consider him as a special pattern, and the model of innocence and of that fervor with which they must labor continually to improve in wisdom, piety, and every virtue. He is particularly the pattern which those ought always to have before their eyes, who are called by God to the ministry of his altar, or of his word. Let no one be so rash as to intrude himself into the sanctuary before he has labored a long time to qualify himself for so high an office by retirement, humility, holy contemplation, and penance, and before the spirit of those virtues has taken deep root in his soul. Saint John led a most austere life in the wilderness conversing only with God, till, in the thirtieth year of his age, he was perfectly qualified to enter upon the administration of his office; that being also the age at which the priests and Levites were permitted by the Jewish law to begin the exercise of their functions.1 The prophets had long before described the Baptist as the messenger and forerunner sent to prepare the way of the Lord, by bringing men to a due sense of their sins, and to the other necessary dispositions for receiving worthily their redeemer.2 Isaias and Malachy in these predictions allude to harbingers and such other officers whom princes upon their journeys sent before them, to take care that the roads should be levelled, and all obstructions that might hinder their passage removed.

God, by a revelation, intimated to John his commission of precursor in the wilderness, and the faithful minister began to discharge it in the desert of Judæa itself near the borders, where it was thinly inhabited, upon the banks of the Jordan, towards Jericho. Clothed with the weeds of penance, he announced to all men the obligation they lay under of washing away their iniquities with the tears of sincere compunction; and proclaimed the Messiah, who was then coming to make his appearance among them.3 He was received by the people as the true herald of the most high God, and his voice was, as it were, a trumpet sounding from heaven to summon all men to avert the divine judgments, and to prepare themselves to reap the benefit of the mercy that was offered them. All ranks of people listened to him, and, amongst others, came many pharisees, whose pride and hypocrisy, which rendered them indocile, and blinded them in their vices, he sharply reproved. The very soldiers and publicans or tax-gatherers, who were generally persons hardened in habits of immorality, violence, and injustice, flocked to him. He exhorted all to works of charity, and to a reformation of their lives, and those who addressed themselves to him, in these dispositions, he baptized in the river. The Jews practised several religious washings of the body as legal purifications; but no baptism before this of John had so great and mystical a signification. It chiefly represented the manner in which the souls of men must be cleansed from all sin and vicious habits, to be made partakers of Christ’s spiritual kingdom, and it was an emblem of the interior effects of sincere repentance; but it differed entirely from the great sacrament of baptism which Christ soon after instituted, to which it was much inferior in virtue and efficacy, and of which it was a kind of type.4

St. John’s baptism was a temporary rite, by which men who were under the law were admitted to some new spiritual privileges, which they had not before, by him who was the messenger of Christ, and of his new covenant. Whence it is called by the fathers a partition between the law and the gospe1.5 This baptism of John prepared men to become Christians, but did not make them so. It was not even conferred in the name of Christ, or in that of the Holy Ghost, who had not been as yet given.6 When St. John had already preached and baptized about six months, our Redeemer went from Nazareth, and presented himself, among others, to be baptized by him. The baptist knew him by a divine revelation, and, full of awe and respect for his sacred person at first excused himself, but at length acquiesced out of obedience. The Saviour of sinners was pleased to be baptized among sinners, not to be cleansed himself, but to sanctify the waters, says St. Ambrose,7 that is, to give them the virtue to cleanse away the sins of men. St. Austin and St. Thomas Aquinas think he then instituted the holy sacrament of baptism, which he soon after administered by his disciples,8 whom doubtless he had first baptized himself.9

The solemn admonitions of the Baptist, attended with the most extraordinary innocence and sanctity, and the marks of his divine commission, procured him a mighty veneration and authority among the Jews, and several began to look upon him as the Messiah, who, from the ancient prophecies, was expected by all the nations of the East to appear about that time in Judæa, as Suetonius, Tacitus, and Josephus testify.10 To remove all thoughts of this kind, he freely declared that he only baptized sinners with water in order to repentance and a new life; but that there was one ready to appear among them, who would baptize them with the effusion of the Holy Ghost, and who so far exceeded him in power and excellency, that he was not worthy to do for him the meanest servile office. Nevertheless, so strong were the impressions which the preaching and deportment of John made upon the minds of the Jews, that they sent to him a solemn embassy of priests and Levites from Jerusalem to inquire of him if he was not the Christ.11 True humility shudders at the very mention of undue honor; and the higher applause it meets with among men, the lower it sinks in a deep sense and sincere acknowledgment of its own baseness and unworthiness, and in the abyss of its nothingness; and in this disposition it is inflamed with a most ardent desire to give all praise and glory to the pure gratuitous goodness and mercy of God alone. In these sentiments St. John confessed, and did not deny: and he confessed, I am not the Christ. He also told the deputies that he was neither Elias nor a prophet. He was indeed Elias in spirit; being the great harbinger of the Son of God; and excelled in dignity the ancient Elias, who was a type of our saint. The Baptist was likewise eminently a prophet, and more than a prophet, it being his office not to foretell Christ at a distance, but to point him out present among men.12 Yet, far from pluming himself with titles and prerogatives, as pride inspires men to do, he forgets his dignity in every other respect only in that of discharging the obligations it lays upon him, and of humbling himself under the almighty and merciful hand of Him who had chosen and exalted him by his grace. Therefore, because he was not Elias in person, nor a prophet in the strict sense of the word, though, by his office, more than a prophet, he rejects those titles.

Being pressed to give some account who he was, he call himself the voice of one crying in the desert; he will not have men have the least regard for him, but turns their attentions entirely from himself, as unworthy to be named or thought of, and only bids them listen to the summons which God sent them by his mouth. A voice is no more than an empty sound; it is a mere nothing. How eloquent does sincere humility render the saints to express the sentiments of their own nothingness! Like the Baptist, every preacher of God’s word must be penetrated with the most feeling sense of his own baseness; must study always to be nothing himself and in his own eyes, whilst yet he exerts all his powers that God, the great All, may be known, loved, served, and glorified by all, and in all: he must be himself merely a voice, but a voice of thunder to awake in all hearts a profound sense of their spiritual miseries, and of the duties which they owe to God. This maxim St. Austin illustrates by the following simile drawn by the pagan mythologists: “It is related in the fables,” says he, “that a wolf thought, from the shrillness of the voice, that a nightingale was some large creature, and, coming up and finding it to have so small a body, said: Thou art all voice, and art therefore nothing. In like manner let us be nothing in our own esteem. Let the world despise us, and set us at naught, provided we only be the voice of God and nothing more.”13

The Baptist proclaimed Jesus to be the Messias at his baptism; he did the same when the Jews consulted him from Jerusalem whether he was not the Messias: again, when seeing him come towards him the day following, he called him, The Lamb of God; also when his disciples consulted him about the baptism of Jesus, and on other occasions. He baptized first in the Jordan, on the borders of the desert of Judæa: afterward, on the other side of that river, at a place called Bethania, or rather Bethabara, which word signifies House of the Passage or common ford; lastly at Ennon, near Salim, a place abounding in waters, situated in Judæa near the Jordan. In the discharge of his commission he was a perfect model to be imitated by all true ministers of the divine word. Like an angel of the Lord he was neither moved by benedictions nor by maledictions,14 having only God and his holy will in view. Entirely free from vanity or love of popular applause, he preached not himself, but Christ. His tenderness and charity won the hearts, and his zeal gave him a commanding influence over the minds of his hearers. He reproved the vices of all orders of men with impartial freedom, and an undaunted authority; the hypocrisy of the Pharisees, the profaneness of the Sadducees, the extortion of the publicans, the rapine and licentiousness of the soldiers, and the incest of Herod himself.*

The tetrarch Herod Antipas going to Rome in the sixteenth year of Tiberius, the thirty-third of Christ, lodged in his way at the house of his brother Herod Philip, and was smitten with love for his wife Herodias, who was niece to them both. He discovered to her his criminal passion, and she consented to leave her husband and marry him, upon condition that he first divorced his wife, who was daughter of Aretas, king of the Arabs. To this he readily agreed, and being returned from Rome in the following autumn, he considered how to rid himself of his wife. The princess having got intelligence of his resolution, made her escape, and fled to her father. By her voluntary retreat Herod Antipas saw himself at liberty, and, by a notorious infringement of all laws divine and human, married Herodias his sister-in-law, though she had children by her own husband Philip, his brother, who was yet living.15 St. John Baptist boldly reprehended the tetrarch and his accomplices for so scandalous an incest and adultery, and said to that prince: It is not lawful for thee to take thy brother’s wife. Herod feared and reverenced John, knowing him to be a holy man; and he did many things by his advice; but, on the other hand, he could not bear that his main sore should be touched, and was highly offended at the liberty which the preacher took in that particular. Thus, whilst he respected him as a saint, he hated him as a censor, and felt a violent struggle in his own breast, between his veneration for the sanctity of the prophet, and the reproaches of his own conduct. His passion still got the better, and held him captive, and his flame was nourished by the flatteries of courtiers, and the clamors and artifices of Herodias, who, like an enraged infernal fury, left nothing unattempted to take away the life of him who durst impeach her conduct, and disturb her criminal pleasures and ambition. Herod, to content her, cast the saint into prison. Josephus says the servant of God was confined in the castle of Macherus, two leagues beyond the lake Asphaltites, upon the borders of Arabia Petræa. St. John, hearing in prison of Christ’s wonderful works and preaching, sent two of his disciples to him for their information, not doubting but that Christ would satisfy them that he was the Messiah;16 and that by his answers they would lay aside their prejudices, and join themselves to him.

Herod continued still to respect the man of God, frequently sent for him, and heard him discourse with much pleasure, though he was troubled when he was admonished by him of his faults. Herodias, on the other hand, never ceased by her instigations to endeavor to exasperate him against the holy man, and to seek an opportunity to compass his destruction. An occasion at length fell out favorable to her designs. It was about a year since John the Baptist had been committed close prisoner, when Herod, upon a return of his birthday, made a splendid entertainment for the principal nobility of Galilee, in the castle of Macherus.* The dancing of Salome and other circumstances of this banquet are sensible proofs to what an infamous pitch of impudence debauchery was carried in this impious court. To dance at banquets was looked upon among civilized nations which had any regard to rules of decency and temperance, as a base effeminacy, and an excess of softness and voluptuousness,17 as it is called by Cicero, who clears the reputation of king Deiotarus from the aspersion of such an indecency, because, being a man remarkable from his youth for the gravity of his manners, he was incapable of such an extravagance. That orator had before endeavored in the same manner to justify Muræna from a like imputation. When luxury and intemperance overran the Roman commonwealth, these maxims of ancient severity still so far prevailed, that Tiberius and Domitian, who will never pass for rigid reformers of morals, turned patricians out of the senate for having danced, and the former banished all the professed dancers and comedians out of Rome,18 so incompatible with purity of manners was a passion for dancing looked upon. This reflection leads us to form a judgment of the extreme degeneracy of Herod’s court, in which the mirth and jollity of this feast was heightened by dancing. Salome, a daughter of Herodias by her awful husband, pleased Herod by her dancing, insomuch that he promised her, with the sacred bond of an oath, to grant her whatever she asked, though it amounted to half of his dominions. From this instance St. Ambrose and other fathers take occasion to show the dangerous consequences of a passion for dancing, and the depravity from which it often takes its rise.† Salome having received the above-said ample promise made her by Herod, consulted with her mother what to ask. Herodias was so entirely devoured by lust and ambition, as willingly to forego every other consideration, that she might be at liberty to gratify her passions, and remove him who stood in her way in the pursuit of her criminal inclinations. She therefore instructed her daughter to demand the death of John the Baptist, and her jealousy was so impatient of the least delay, for fear the tyrant might relent if he had time to enter into himself, that she persuaded the young damsel to make it part of her petition that the head of the prisoner should be forthwith brought to her in a dish. This strange request startled the tyrant himself, and caused a damp upon his spirits. He, however, assented, though with reluctance, as men often feel a cruel sting of remorse, and suffer the qualms of a disturbed conscience flying in their face and condemning them, whilst they are drawn into sin by the tyranny of a vicious habit, or some violent passion. We cannot be surprised that Herod should be concerned at so extravagant a petition. The very mention of such a thing by a lady, in the midst of a feast and solemn rejoicing, was enough to shock even a man of uncommon barbarity.

The evangelist also informs us, that Herod had conceived a good opinion of the Baptist as a just and holy man; also that he feared the resentment of the people, who held the man of God in the highest veneration and esteem. Moreover, it was a constant rule or custom, that neither the prince’s birthday, nor the mirth of a public assembly and banquet, were to be stained with the condemnation or execution of any criminal whatever; only favors and pardons were to be granted on such occasions. Flaminius, a Roman general, was expelled the senate by the censors for having given an order for beheading a criminal whilst he was at a banquet.19 Nevertheless, the weak tyrant, overcome by his passion, and by a fond complaisance, was deaf to the voice of his own conscience, and to every other consideration; and studied, by foolish pretences, to excuse a crime which they could only serve to exaggerate. He alleged a conscience of his oath; though if it be one sin to take a wicked oath, it is another to keep it; for no oath can be a bond of iniquity, nor can any one oblige himself to do what God forbids. The tyrant also urged his respect for the company, and his fear of giving them scandal by a perjury. But how easy would true virtue and courage have justified the innocent man to the satisfaction of all persons whom passion did not blind, and have shown the inhumanity of an execution which could not fail to damp the joy of the meeting, and give offence to all who were not interested in the plot! But the tyrant, without giving the saint a hearing, or allowing him so much as the formality of a trial, sent a soldier of his guard to behead him in prison, with an order to bring his head in a charger, and present it to Salome. This being executed, the damsel was not afraid to take that present into her hands, and deliver it to her mother. St. Jerom relates,20 that the furious Herodias made it her inhuman pastime to prick the sacred tongue with a bodkin as Fulvia had done Cicero’s. Thus died the great forerunner of our blessed Saviour, about two years and three months after his entrance upon his public ministry, about the time of the Paschal solemnity, a year before the death of our blessed Redeemer.

Josephus, though a Jew, gives a remarkable testimony to the innocence and admirable sanctity of John, and says, “He was indeed a man endued with all virtue, who exhorted the Jews to the practice of justice towards men, and piety towards God; and also to baptism, preaching that they would become acceptable to God, if they renounced their sins, and to the cleanness of their bodies added purity of soul.”21 This historian adds, that the Jews ascribed to the murder of John the misfortunes into which Herod fell. For his army was soon after cut to pieces by Aretas, king of Arabia Petræa, who, in revenge for the affront offered his daughter, invaded his territories, and conquered the castle of Macherus. When Caligula afterward conferred on Agrippa the title of king of Judæa, the ambitious Herodias being racked with envy, prevailed with Herod Antipas to repair to Rome, in order to request the like favor of the emperor. But Caligula had received a bad impression against him, being informed by Agrippa that he was making a league with the Parthians, and was provided with arms for seventy thousand men. Whereupon, instead of granting him a crown, he deprived him of his tetrarchate, confiscated his goods, and banished him and Herodias to Lyons in Gaul, in the thirty-eighth year of the Christian æra, about four years after Christ had appeared before him at Jerusalem, and been treated by him as a mock king. Herod and Herodias died in great misery, as Josephus assures us, probably at Lyons, though some moderns say they travelled into Spain. What Nicephorus Calixti and other modern Greeks tell us, is not supported by any ancient voucher, that Salome going over the ice in winter, the ice broke and let her in up to the head, which by the meeting of the ice was severed from her body.

The Baptist’s disciples came and took away his body, which they honorably interred. Rufinus and Theodoret inform us, that in the reign of Julian the Apostate, the pagans broke open the tomb of St. John the Baptist, which was at Sebaste or Samaria, and burnt part of his sacred bones, some part being saved by the Christians. These were sent to St. Athanasius a Alexandria. Some time after, in 396, Theodosius built a great church in that city, in honor of the Baptist, upon the spot where the temple of Serapis had formerly stood, and these holy relics were deposited in it, as Theophanes testifies. But a distribution of some portions was made to certain other churches; and the great Theodoret obtained a share for his church at Cyrus, and relates, that he and his diocess had received from God several miraculous favors, through the intercession of this glorious saint.22 The Baptist’s head was discovered at Emisa in Syria, in the year 453, and was kept with honor in the great church of that city; till, about the year 800, this precious relic was conveyed to Constantinople, that it might not be sacrilegiously insulted by the Saracens. When that city was taken by the French in 1204, Wallo de Sarton, a canon of Amiens, brought part of this head, that is, all the face, except the lower jaw, into France, and bestowed it or his own church, where it is preserved to this day. Part of the head of the Baptist is said to be kept in St. Sylvester’s church, in Campo Marzo at Rome; though Sirmond thinks this to be the head of St. John the Martyr of Rome. Pope Clement VIII., to remove all reasonable doubt about the relic of this saint, procured a small part of the head that is kept in Amiens, for St. Sylvester’s church.23

This glorious saint was a martyr, a virgin, a doctor, a prophet, and more than a prophet. He was declared by Christ himself to be greater than all the saints of the old law, the greatest of all that had been born of women. All the high graces with which he was favored, sprang from his humility; in this all his other virtues were founded. If we desire to form ourselves upon so great a model, we must, above all things, labor to lay the same deep foundation. We must never cease to purge our souls more and more perfectly from all leaven of pride, by earnestly begging this grace of God, by studying with this saint, truly to know ourselves, and by exercising continual acts of sincere humility. The meditation of our own nothingness and wretchedness will help to inspire us with this saving knowledge; and repeated humiliations will ground and improve our souls in a feeling sense of our miseries, and a sincere contempt of ourselves.

AUGUST 29 — ST. SABINA, M

She was a rich widow lady of high birth, and lived in the province of Umbria in Italy. She had a servant called Seraphia, a native of Antioch in Syria, who was a zealous Christian, and served God in the holy state of virginity. The religious deportment of this virtuous maid-servant had such an influence over the mistress, that she was converted to the Christian faith; and so powerfully did the great truths of our holy religion operate on her soul, that her fervor and piety soon rendered her name illustrious among the great lights of the Church, in the beginning of the second century. The persecution of Adrian beginning to rage, Beryllus, governor of the province, caused Sabina and Seraphia to be apprehended, and the latter to be beaten to death with clubs. Sabina was discharged out of regard to her quality and friends; but her zeal procured her the crown of martyrdom the year following. She suffered at Rome, as the Bollandists have proved. She is honored on the 29th of August, and again with St. Seraphia on the 3d of September, because, on that day, as Ado informs us, a famous ancient church was dedicated to God in Rome, under the patronage of these two saints in 430. It at present bears only the name of St. Sabina. In it was kept the first among the stations in Lent, till, in the last century, the public prayers of forty hours succeeded the devotion of the stations, both being equally the general assembly of the city in the same church to join in prayer. See the acts of SS. Sabina and Seraphia in Baluze, Miscell. t. 2.

AUGUST 29 — ST. SEBBI, OR SEBBA, KING, C

This prince was the son of Seward, and in the year 664, which was remarkable for a grievous pestilence, began to reign over the East-Saxons, who inhabited the country which now comprises Essex, Middlesex, and the greatest part of Hertfordshire; he being the tenth king from Erkenwm, founder of that kingdom, in 527, and sixth from Sebert, the first Christian king, who founded St. Paul’s church, and Thorney abbey, about the year 604. Sebba was, by his wise and pious government, the father of his people, and a perfect model of all virtues, and on the throne sanctified his soul by the most heroic exercises of austere penance, profuse alms-deeds, and assiduous prayer. When he had reigned happily and with great glory, during thirty years, he resigned his crown to his two sons, Sigeard and Senfrid, which he had long before desired to do, in order to be more at liberty to prepare himself for his last hour. His queen took the religious veil about the same time. St. Sebba received the monastic habit from the hands of Wald-here, successor of St. Erconwald in the bishopric of London, whom he charged with the distribution of all his personal estate among the poor. Our saint seemed to have death always present to his mind; and his grievous fears of that tremendous passage were at length converted into a longing joyful hope. After two years spent in great fervor in a monastic retirement, he died at London, in holy joy, about the year 697, having been forewarned by God of his last hour three days before. Bede assures us, that his death was accompanied with many miracles and heavenly favors. His body was interred in St. Paul’s church, and his tomb was to be seen there, adjoining to the north wall, till the great fire in 1666. His Latin epitaph is extant in Weever’s Funeral Monuments,1 as follows:—“Here lies Sebba, king of the East-Saxons, who was converted to the faith by St. Erconwald, bishop of London, in 677. A man very devout to God, and fervent in acts of religion, constant prayer, and pious almsdeeds. He preferred a monastic life to the riches of a kingdom, and took the religious habit from Waldere, bishop of London, who had succeeded Erconwald.” His name occurs in the Roman Martyrology. See Bede Hist.1. 3, c. 30,1. 4, c. 11. Also F. Alford’s Annals (ad an. 693, t. 2, p. 413), whose collection is a very valuable treasure of the ecclesiastical history of this nation, as our most learned antiquary bishop Fleetwood observes, though the light of criticism must direct the reader in some parts of the work.

AUGUST 29 — ST. MERRI, IN LATIN, MEDERICUS, ABBOT

He was nobly born at Autun, in the seventh century, and from his infancy turned all his thoughts toward virtue. In his childhood he disdained the ordinary amusements of that age, and in all his actions considered the great end of human life the sanctification and salvation of his soul. That he might wholly attend to his only affair without distraction, when he was but thirteen years old, he so earnestly desired to embrace a monastic life, that his parents, who at first violently opposed his vocation, overcome by his importunities, presented him themselves to the abbot of St. Martin’s in Autun. In that monastery then lived fifty-four fervent monks, whose penitential and regular lives were an odor of sanctity to the whole country. Merri, in this holy company, grew up in the perfect exercise and habits of every virtue, especially humility, meekness, charity, obedience, and a scrupulous observance of every point of the rule. Being, in process of time, chosen abbot, much against his own inclinations, he pointed out to his brethren the narrow path of true virtue by example, walking before them in every duty; and the great reputation of his sanctity drew the eyes of all men upon him. The dissipation which continual consultations from distant parts gave him, and a fear of the dangers of forgetting himself, and falling into the snares of vanity, made him resign his office, and retire privately into a forest four miles from Autun, where he lay hid some time in a place called, to this day, St. Merri’s cell. He procured himself all necessaries of life, by the labor of his hands, and found this solitude sweet by the liberty it gave him of employing his whole time in the exercises of heavenly contemplation, prayer, and penitential manual labor. The place of his retreat being at length become public, he was obliged to return to his monastery; but after having edified his brethren some time, and strengthened them in the maxims of religious perfection, he again left them, in order to prepare himself the better for his passage to eternity. He came to Paris with one companion called Frou or Frodulf, and chose his abode in a small cell adjoining to a chapel dedicated in honor of St. Peter, in the north suburbs of that city; where, after two years and nine months, during which time he bore, with astonishing patience, the fiery trial of a painful lingering illness, he happily died about the year 700. He was buried in the above-mentioned chapel, upon the spot where now a great church bears his name, in which his relics are placed in a silver shrine over the high altar. He is named in the Roman Martyrology. See his anonymous life in Mabillon’s acts of Saints of the Order of St. Bennet, and Stilting the Bollandist, t. 6, Augusti, p. 518.

AUGUST 30 — SAINT ROSE OF LIMA, VIRGIN

From her life written by Hansen, a Dominican friar, and from the elegant panegyric pronounced by F. Paul Oliva, S. J. in presence of the pope.

A. D. 1617.

ASIA, Europe, and Africa had been watered with the blood of many martyrs, and adorned, during many ages, with the shining examples of innumerable saints, whilst, by the inscrutable judgments of God, the vast regions of America lay barren, and, as it were, abandoned till the faith of Christ began to enlighten them, and this saint appeared on that hemisphere like a rose amidst thorns, the first-fruits of its canonized saints. She was of Spanish extraction, born at Lima, the capital of Peru, in 1586.* She was christened Isabel; but the figure and color of her face in the cradle seeming, in some measure, to resemble a beautiful rose, the name of Rose was given her. From her infancy her patience in suffering, and her love of mortification, were extraordinary, and whilst yet a child, she ate no fruit, and fasted three days a week, allowing herself on them only bread and water, and on other days, taking only unsavory herbs and pulse. When she was grown up, her garden was planted only with bitter herbs, and interspersed with figures of crosses. In her exercises she took St. Catharine of Sienna for her model. Every incentive of pride and sensuality was to her an object of abhorrence, and, for fear of taking any secret satisfaction in vanity, she studied to make those things in which it might insinuate its poison, painful to her. One day her mother having put on her head a garland of flowers, she secretly stuck in it a pin, which pricked her so deep, that the maid at night could not take off the garland without some difficulty. Hearing others frequently commend her beauty, and fearing lest it should be an occasion of temptation to any one, whenever she was to go abroad to any public place, she used, the night before, to rub her face and hands with the bark and powder of Indian pepper, which is a violent corrosive, in order to disfigure her skin with little blotches and swellings. A young man happening one day to admire the fineness of the skin of her hand, she immediately ran and thrust both her hands into hot lime, saying, “Never let my hands be to any one an occasion of temptation.” What a confusion is this example to those who make it their study to set themselves off by their dress, to become snares to others! We admire a St. Bennet on briers, a St. Bernard freezing in the ice, and a St. Francis in the snow; these saints were cruel to themselves, not to be overcome by the devil; but Rose punishes herself to preserve others. Thus did she arm herself against her external enemies, and against the revolt of her senses. But she was aware that this victory would avail her little, unless she died to herself by crucifying in her heart inordinate self-love, which is the source of pride, and all the other passions. This is the most important and most difficult part of our spiritual warfare; for so long as self-love reigns in the affections of the heart, it blasts with its poisonous influence even virtues themselves; it has so many little artful windings, that it easily insinuates and disguises itself everywhere, wears every mask, and seeks itself even in fasting and prayer. Rose triumphed over this subtle enemy by the most profound humility, and the most perfect obedience and denial of her own will. She never departed wilfully from the order of her parents in the least tittle, and gave proofs of her scrupulous obedience, and invincible patience under all pains, labor, and contradictions, which surprised all that knew her.

Her parents, by the vicissitude of worldly affairs, fell from a state of opulence into great distress, and Rose was taken into the family of the treasurer Gonsalvo, by that gentleman’s pious lady; and by working there all day in the garden, and late at night with her needle, she relieved them in their necessities. These employments were agreeable to her penitential spirit and humility, and afforded her an opportunity of never interrupting the interior commerce of her soul with God. She probably would never have entertained any thoughts of another state, if she had not found herself importuned by her friends to marry. To rid herself of such troublesome solicitations, and more easily to comply with the obligation she had taken upon herself by a vow of serving God in a state of holy virginity, she enrolled herself in the third Order of St. Dominic. Her love of solitude made her choose for her dwelling a little lonely cell in a garden. Extraordinary fasts, hair cloths, studded iron chains which she wore about her waist, bitter herbs mingled in the sustenance which she took, and other austerities, were the inventions of her spirit of mortification and penance. She wore upon her head a tin circle of silver (a metal very common in Peru studded on the inside with little sharp pricks or nails, which wounded her head, in imitation of a crown of thorns. This she did to put her in mind of the adorable passion of Christ, which incomprehensible mystery of divine love and mercy she desired to have always in her thoughts. She never spoke of herself but as of the basest of sinful monsters, the sink of the universe, unworthy to breathe the air, to behold the light, or to walk on the ground; and she never ceased to adore the infinite goodness and mercy of God towards her. So ardent was her love of God, that as often as she spoke of it, the accent of her voice, and the fire which sparkled in her countenance, discovered the flame which consumed her holy soul. This appeared most sensibly when she was in presence of the blessed sacrament, and when in receiving it she united her heart to her beloved in that wonderful fountain of his love; her whole life was a continual vehement thirst after that divine banquet, in which she found her greatest comfort and support during the course of her earthly pilgrimage. God favored the fervor of her charity with many extraordinary graces; and Christ once in a vision called her soul his spouse. But, for her humiliation, and the exercise of her virtue, she suffered, during fifteen years, grievous persecutions from her friends and others; and, what were much more severe trials, interior desolation, and dreadful agonies of spiritual anguish in her soul. The devil also assaulted her with violent temptations, filling her imagination with filthy phantoms. But God afterward recompensed her fidelity and constancy in this life with extraordinary caresses. Under long and most painful sicknesses it was her prayer, “Lord, increase my sufferings, and with them increase thy love in my heart.” She happily passed to eternal bliss on the 24th of August, 1617, being thirty-one years old. The chapter, senate, and all the most honorable companies of the city, by turns, carried her body to the grave; the archbishop assisted at her funeral. Several miracles wrought by her means were juridically proved by one hundred and eighty witnesses before the apostolical commissaries. She was canonized by Clement X. in 1671, and the 30th day of August has been appointed for her festival.

The saints, whether in the world, in the desert, or in the cloister, studied to live every moment to God. If we make a pure and perfect intention of always doing His will the governing principle of our whole lives, we thus consecrate to Him all our moments, even our meals, our rest, our conversation, and whatever else we do; all our works will thus be full. To attain to this perfection we must crucify in our hearts all inordinate self-love, or it will creep into our actions, and secretly rob God of them. We must study to remove every obstacle that can hinder the perfect reign of divine love in our souls, and must pray and labor with all our strength, that this love be continually increased in us. If true charity animate our souls, it will regulate and sanctify all our actions. By it we shall ardently endeavor to glorify God alone in all our works, and sincerely offer and refer ourselves and all we do to this end, repeating in the beginning of every action. Hallowed be thy name, both by me with all my powers and strength, and by all thy creatures, now and for ever. Or, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven, may it be always fulfilled by me, and in me, and all others, with the most ardent affection, and pure intention, as it is by the blessed angels above, O God of my heart, my God, and my All!

AUGUST 30 — SS. FELIX AND ADAUCTUS, MM

St. Felix was a holy priest in Rome, no less happy in his life and virtue than in his name. Being apprehended in the beginning of Dioclesian’s persecution, he was put to cruel torments, which he suffered with admirable constancy, and was at length condemned to lose his head. As he was going to execution he was met by a stranger, who, being a Christian, was so inflamed at the sight of the martyr, and the lively prospect of the glory to which he was hastening, that he was not able to contain himself, but cried out aloud, “I confess the same law which this man professeth; I confess the same Jesus Christ; and it is also my desire to lay down my life in this cause.” The magistrates hearing this, caused him forthwith to be seized, and the martyrs were both beheaded together about the year 303. The name of this latter not being known, he was called by the Christians Adauctus, because he was joined to Felix in martyrdom. These holy martyrs are commemorated in the Sacramentary of St. Gregory the Great, and many ancient calendars. F. Stilting, the Bollandist, asserts the authenticity of their acts, t. 6, Augusti, p. 548.

AUGUST 30 — ST. FIAKER, ANCHORET, C. CALLED BY THE FRENCH FIACRE, AND ANCIENTLY FEFRE

He was nobly born in Ireland, and had his education under the care of a bishop of eminent sanctity, who was, according to some, Conan, bishop of Soder, or the Western Islands. Looking upon all worldly advantages as dross to gain Christ, he left his country and friends in the flower of his age, and with certain pious companions sailed over into France, in quest of some close solitude, in which he might devote himself to God, unknown to the rest of the world. Divine providence, which was pleased to honor the diocess of Meaux with the happiness of furnishing a retreat to this holy man, conducted him to St. Faro, who was the bishop of that city, and eminent for sanctity. When St. Fiaker addressed himself to him, the prelate, charmed with the marks of extraordinary virtue and abilities which he discovered in this stranger, gave him a solitary dwelling in a forest which was his own patrimony, called Breüil, in the province of Brie, two leagues from Meaux. In this place the holy anchoret cleared the ground of trees and briers, made himself a cell, with a small garden, and built an oratory in honor of the Blessed Virgin, in which he spent great part of the days and nights in devout prayer. He tilled his garden, and labored with his own hands for his subsistence. The life he led was most austere, and only necessity or charity ever interrupted his exercises of prayer and heavenly contemplation. Many resorted to him for advice, and the poor for relief. His tender charity for all moved him to attend cheerfully those that came to consult him; and he built, at some distance from his cell, a kind of hospital for the reception of strangers and pilgrims. There he entertained the poor, serving them with his own hands, and he often miraculously restored to health those that were sick. But he never suffered any woman to enter the enclosure of his hermitage; which was an inviolable rule among the Irish monks. St. Columban, by refusing queen Brunehault entrance into his monastery, gave the first occasion to the violent persecution which she raised against him.1 This law St. Fiaker observed inviolably to his death; and a religious respect has established the same rule, to this day, both with regard to the place where he dwelt at Breüil, and the chapel where he was interred. Mabillon and Du Plessis say, that those who have attempted to transgress it, were punished by visible judgments; and that, in 1620, a lady of Paris, who pretended to be above this law, going into the oratory, became distracted upon the spot, and never recovered her senses. Anne of Austria, queen of France, out of a religious deference, contented herself to offer up her prayers in this place without the door of the oratory, amongst other pilgrims.

St. Chillen or Kilian, an Irishman of high birth on his return from Rome, visited St. Fiaker, who was his kinsman, and having passed some time under his discipline, was directed, by his advice, with the authority of the bishops, to preach in that and the neighboring diocesses. This commission he executed with admirable sanctity and fruit, chiefly in the diocess of Arras, where his memory is in great veneration to this day, and he is honored on the 13th of November.2 St. Fiaker had a sister called Syra, who died in the diocess of Meaux, and is honored there among the holy virgins. Dempster, Leland, Tanner, and others, mention a letter of spiritual advice which St. Fiaker wrote to her. She ought not to be confounded with St. Syra of Troyes, who was a married woman, and lived in the third century.3 Hector Boetius, David Camerarius, and bishop Leslie,4 relate, that St. Fiaker being eldest son to a king of the Scots, in the reign of Clotaire II., in France, was invited by ambassadors sent by his nation to come and take possession of that kingdom; but answered, that, for the inheritance of an eternal crown, he had renounced all earthly claims. This circumstance, however, is not mentioned in the ancient history of his life. He died about the year 670, on the 30th of August. His body was buried in his own oratory. He seems never to have had any disciples that lived with him. The monks of St. Faro’s, for a long time, kept two or three priests at Breüil to serve this chapel and assist the pilgrims; but at length they founded there a priory, which subsists dependent of that abbey. The shrine of St. Fiaker became famous for frequent miracles, and was resorted to from all parts of France by crowds of pilgrims.* The relics of this saint were translated to the cathedral of Meaux, not in 1562, as Mabillon mistook, but in 1568,5 though a part was left at Breüil or St. Fiaker’s. The grand dukes of Florence, by earnest importunities, obtained two small portions in 1527 and 1695, for which they built a chapel at Toppaia, one of their country seats. St. Fiaker is patron of the province of Brie, and titular saint of several churches in most parts of France, in which kingdom his name has been most famous for above a thousand years. Du Plessis, among innumerable miracles which have been wrought through the intercession of this glorious saint, mentions those that follow.6 M. Seguier, bishop of Meaux, in 1649, and John I. of Chatillon, count of Blois, gave authentic testimonies of their own wonderful cures of dangerous distempers wrought upon them through the means of St. Fiaker. To omit many other persons of rank, both in the Church and State, mentioned by our authors, queen Anne of Austria attributed to the mediation of this saint the recovery of Louis XIII., at Lyons, where he had been dangerously ill: in thanksgiving for which, according to a vow she had made, she performed, in person on foot, a pilgrimage to St. Fiaker’s in 1641. She acknowledged herself indebted to this saint for the cure of a dangerous issue of blood, which neither surgeons nor physicians had been able to relieve. She also sent to this saint’s shrine a token in acknowledgment of his intervention in the birth of her son Louis XIV. Before that great king underwent a dangerous operation, to implore the divine blessing, Bossuet, bishop of Meaux, began a novena of prayers at St. Fiaker’s, which the monks finished. See St. Fiaker’s ancient life in Mabillon, sæc. 2. Stilting the Bollandist, t. 6. Augusti, p. 598, Dom. Toussaint’s Du Plessis, the Maurist monk, Histoire de l’Eglise de Meaux,1. 1, n. 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, tom. 1, p. 55; also, t. 2, p. 174, 375. Usher, Antiqu. c. 17, p. 488, who proves him to have come from Ireland, both by an old sequence, and by the saint’s own words to St. Faro, recorded by John of Timmouth:—“Ireland, the island of the Scots, gave me and my progenitors birth.”

AUGUST 30 — ST. PAMMACHIUS, C

This holy man was a Roman senator, and the ornament of the most illustrious family of the Camilli, as he is styled by St. Jerom, whose schoolfellow he was in his youth. Those who were entrusted with his education took care to season their instructions with delight, in order to make him in love with his studies; thus they led him through flowery paths to the sources of eloquence; he was also initiated in sacred literature. Coming out of school in 370, when St. Jerom retired into the desert, Pammachius entered the senate, and by his virtue and abilities was the honor of that illustrious body. He was raised to the proconsular dignity, and married Paulina, the second daughter of St. Paula. He was the first who detected the impious errors of Jovinian, and denounced them to pope Siricus, who condemned that heresiarch in 390. Friendships begun in childhood, and cemented by a sympathy of inclinations and studies, according to the remark of Quintilian, are usually the most agreeable of all others, and hold out to the last, especially when they are founded in virtue. Such was the union of hearts which linked together St. Jerom and Pammachius. The latter assisted that holy doctor in his works against Jovinian, and often consulted him in his own difficulties. The younger Paulina died in 393, within a few years after her marriage. Pammachius, after the holy sacrifice was offered for her, according to custom, gave an entertainment to all the poor in Rome, as St. Paulinus mentions,1 who concludes his letter to him as follows:—“Your spouse is now a pledge and a powerful intercessor for you with Jesus Christ. She now obtains for you as many blessings in heaven as you have sent her treasures from hence, not honoring her memory with fruitless tears, but making her partner of these living gifts (viz. by alms given for the repose of her soul); she is honored by the merit of your virtues; she is fed by the bread you have given to the poor,” &c. St. Jerom2 says, that Pammachius watered her ashes with the balm of alms and mercy, which obtains the pardon of sins; that from the time of her death he made the blind, the lame, and the poor his coheirs, and the heirs of Paulina; and that he never went abroad without being followed by a troop of such attendants. This saint exhorted him to outdo himself in the perfection of his humility. Pammachius built an hospital for strangers in the Roman port, and used to serve the sick and the poor with his own hands. By his letters he converted all the farmers and vassals upon his large estates in Numidia, from the Donatist schism to the Catholic communion; which zealous charity drew a letter of congratulation from the great St. Austin in 401.3 St. Pammachius never seems to have entered holy orders, as some moderns have imagined; but lived sequestered from the world, devoting himself entirely to the exercises of devotion, penance and charity. He died in 410, a little before the sacking of Rome, and is commemorated in the Roman Martyrology on this day. See St. Jerom, ep. 54, &c. Ceillier, t. 10, Fontanini Histor. Litter. Aquileiensis, p. 225, &c.

AUGUST 30 — ST. AGILUS, COMMONLY CALLED ST. AILE, A

He was son of Agnoald, one of the principal lords at the court of Childebert II., king of Austrasia and Burgundy. The examples of virtue, which he found in his family, inspired him early with the fear of God. His parents, by the advice of St. Columban, consecrated him to religion in the monastery of Luxeu, where he studied knowledge, and the maxims of perfection, under the holy abbot St. Eustatius; and was no sooner of age to practise the rule, than he distinguished himself by his fervor, his humility, and the austerity of his penance. Agil’s father dying, St. Columban, now without a protector at court, lay open to a violent persecution from queen Brunehault, enraged against the saint for refusing women an entrance into his monastery. The persecution extended also to his disciples, who were commanded to quit their retreats. St. Agi on this occasion solicited an audience of king Thierri. He was graciously received; at his suit a stop was put to the ill effects of Brunehault’s animosity; and the statute of Columban’s rule regarding women was confirmed. Some years after, the bishops sent to St. Agil and St. Eustatius to preach the gospel to infidels who lived on the further side of Mountjura. The two apostolical men penetrated into Bavaria; and their mission was attended with the happiest success. At their return, St. Agil resumed his penitential exercises with the usual exactness; but was soon taken out of his retreat to govern the monastery of Rebais, which St. Owen, chancellor of France, had founded in the diocess of Meaux. He was appointed first abbot of it at a meeting of bishops in Clichy, in 636. The saint caused the strictest regularity to be observed at Rebais, till he died, about the year 650, in the sixty-sixth year of his age. He is mentioned in the Benedictin Martyrology. See his Life by an anonymous writer, published by Mabillon, Act. SS. Ben. t. 2, and by Chifflet, Histoire de l’Abbaye de Tournus; Bulteau, Hist. de l’Ordre de Saint Benoit,1. 3, c. 14, and Baillet on the 30th of August.

AUGUST 31 — ST. RAYMUND NONNATUS, C

From the Chronicles of his Order, and other Memoirs collected by Pinlus the Bollandist, Augusti, t. 6, p. 729. See also Helyot, who chiefly copies Balliet.

A. D. 1240.

ACCORDING to the rule laid down by our divine Redeemer,1 that Christian approves himself his most faithful disciple, and gives the surest and greatest proof of his love of God, who most perfectly loves his neighbor for God’s sake. By this test of true sanctity we are to form our judgment of the glorious saint whom the Church honors on this day. Saint Raymund Nonnatus* was born at Portel in the diocess of Urgel, in Catalonia, in the year 1204, and was descended of a gentleman’s family of a small fortune. In his childhood he seemed to find no other pleasure than in his devotions and serious duties. Such was his application to his grammar studies, and so happy his genius, as to spare his preceptor much pains in his education. His father, resolving to cross his inclination to a religious or ecclesiastical state, which he began to perceive in him, took him from school, and sent him to take care of a farm which he had in the country. Raymund readily obeyed, and in order to enjoy the opportunity of holy solitude, by voluntary choice, kept the sheep himself, and in the mountains and forests spent his time in holy meditation and prayer, imitating the austerities of the ancient anchorets. Some time after he was pressed by his friends to go to the court of Arragon, where, by his prudence and abilities, he could not fail to make a fortune, being related to the illustrious houses of Foix and Cardona. These importunities obliged him to hasten the execution of his resolution of taking the religious habit in the new Order of our Lady of Mercy for the redemption of captives. Our saint could say with holy Job, that compassion for the poor or distressed had grown up with him from his childhood. The sufferings of the Christians, who, in neighboring provinces, almost under his eyes, groaned in the most inhuman slavery, under the Moors, particularly afflicted his tender heart; by compassion he bore all their burdens, and felt the weight of all their chains. But if he was moved at their corporal sufferings, and earnestly desired to devote himself, and all that he possessed, to procure them comfort and relief under their temporal afflictions, he was much more afflicted by their spiritual dangers of sinking under their calamities, and losing their immortal souls by impatience or apostasy from Christ. For this he never ceased to weep and pray, entreating the God of mercy to be himself the comfort and support of the weak and of the strong; and he wished with St. Pau1,2 to spend and be spent himself for their souls. In these dispositions he obtained of his unwilling father, through the mediation of the count of Cardona, leave to embrace the above-mentioned Order: and was accordingly admitted to his profession at Barcelona by the holy founder St. Peter Nolasco.

The extraordinary fervor of the saint in this new state, his perfect disengagement from the world, his profound humility, sincere obedience, wonderful spirit of mortification and penance, seraphic devotion, and constant recollection, rendered him the model and the admiration of his brethren. So surprising was the progress that he made in the perfection of his holy institute, that, within two or three years after his profession, he was judged the best qualified to discharge the office of Ransomer, in which he succeeded St. Peter. Being sent into Barbary with a considerable sum of money he purchased, at Algiers, the liberty of a great number of slaves. When all this treasure was laid out in that charitable way, he voluntarily gave himself up as a hostage for the ransom of certain others, whose situation was hardest, and whose faith seemed exposed to imminent danger. The magnanimous sacrifice which the saint had made of his own liberty served only to exasperate the Mahometans, who treated him with uncommon barbarity, till the infidels, fearing lest if he died in their hands they should lose the ransom which was stipulated to be paid for the slaves for whom he remained a hostage, upon a remonstrance made on that account by the cadi or magistrate of the city, gave orders that he should be treated with more humanity. Hereupon he was permitted to go abroad about the streets; which liberty in made use of to comfort and encourage the Christians in their chains, and he converted and baptized some Mahometans. Upon information hereof, the governor condemned him to be impaled, that is, to be put to death by thrusting a stake into the body through the hinder parts; this being a barbarous manner of executing criminals much in use among those infidels. However, the persons who were interested in the ransom of the captives, lest they should be losers, prevailed that his life should be spared; and, by a commutation of his punishment, he underwent a cruel bastinado. This torment did not daunt his courage. So long as he saw souls in danger of perishing eternally, he thought he had yet done nothing; nor could he let slip any opportunity of endeavoring to prevent their so frightful misfortune. He considered that, as St. Chrysostom says,3 “Though a person shall have bestowed an immense treasure in alms, he has done nothing equal to him who has contributed to the salvation of a soul. This is a greater alms than ten thousand talents; than this whole world, how great soever it appears to the eye, for a man is more precious than the whole world.”

St. Raymund had on one side no more money to employ in releasing poor captives; and, on the other, to speak to a Mahometan upon the subject of religion was capital by the standing laws of the Mussulmans. He could, however, still exert his endeavors, with hopes of some success, or of dying a martyr of charity. He therefore resumed his former method of instructing and exhorting both the Christians and the Infidels. The governor, who was immediately apprised of his behavior, was strangely enraged, and commanded the zealous servant of Christ to be whipped at the corners of all the streets in the city, his lips to be bored with a red-hot iron in the market-place, and his mouth shut up with a padlock, the key of which he kept himself and only gave to the keepers when the prisoner was to eat. In this condition he was loaded with iron bolts and chains, and cast into a dark dungeon, where he lay full eight months, till his ransom was brought by some religious men of his Order, who were sent with it by Saint Peter. Raymund was unwilling to leave his dungeon, or at least the country of the infidels, where he desired to remain to assist the slaves; but he acquiesced in obedience to the orders of his general, begging God would accept his tears, seeing he was not worthy to shed his blood for the souls of his neighbors.

Upon his return to Spain he was nominated cardinal by pope Gregory IX. But so little was he affected with the involuntary honor, that he neither changed his dress, nor his poor cell in the convent, nor his manner of living. Much less could he be prevailed upon by the nobility of the country to accept of a palace, to admit an equipage or train, or to suffer any rich furniture to be added to his little necessaries in his cell. The pope, being desirous to have so holy a man about his person, and to employ him in the public affairs of the Church, called him to Rome. The saint obeyed, but could not be persuaded to travel otherwise than as a poor religious man. He went no further than Cardona, which is only six miles from Barcelona, when he was seized with a violent fever, which, by the symptoms which attended it, soon appeared to be mortal. St. Raymund prepared himself for his last passage. Some historians relate that he was favored with a vision of angels, in which he received the holy viaticum. His death happened on the 31st of August, in the year 1240, the thirty-seventh year of his age. He was buried in a chapel of St. Nicholas, near the farm in which he had formerly lived. St. Peter Nolasco founded a great convent in that place, in 1255, and St. Raymund’s relics are still kept in that church. The history of many miracles wrought by his means is to be seen in the Bollandists. Pope Alexander VII. inserted his name in the Martyrology in 1657.

This saint gave not only his substance but also his liberty, and even exposed himself to the most cruel torments and death, for the redemption of captives, and the salvation of souls. But alas I how cold now-a-days is charity in our breasts, though it be the essential characteristic of true Christians! Far from the heroic sentiments of the saints, do not we, merely to gratify our prodigality, vanity, or avarice, refuse to give the superfluous part of our possessions to the poor, who, for want of it, are perishing with cold and hunger? Are not we slothful and backward in affording a visit or comfort to poor prisoners, or sick persons, or in using our interest to procure some relief for the distressed? Are we not so insensible to their spiritual miseries as to be without all feeling for them, and to neglect even to commend them to God with sufficient earnestness, to admonish sinners according to our circumstances and the rules of prudence, or to instruct, by ourselves and others, those under our care? By this mark is it not manifest that self-love, and not the love of God and our neighbor, reigns in our hearts, whilst we seek and pursue so inordinately our own worldly interest, and are sensible to it alone? Let us sound our own hearts, and take an impartial view of our lives, and we shall feel whether this test of Christ, or that of Satan, which is self-love, be more sensible in our affections, and whether is the governing principle of our actions.

AUGUST 31 — ST. ISABEL, VIRGIN

This holy princess was daughter of Louis VIII., king of France, and Blanche of Castile, and only sister to St. Louis. She was born in 1225, and lost her father when she was but two years old. She was trained up in the purest maxims of religion, and in the heroic practice of all virtues, and attained so perfect a knowledge of the Latin tongue that she often corrected the compositions of her chaplains in that language. Her character, from her infancy, was a combination of every eminent virtue, and her whole life, from thirteen years of age, was almost one continued course of prayer, reading, and working. At that age she took a resolution to consecrate her virginity to God, and always shunned all vain amusements, and, as much as obedience to the queen would permit, all ornaments of dress. A match was proposed between her and the young Conrad, the emperor’s eldest son; and her mother, St. Louis, and the pope joined in persuading her, for the public good of the Church and State, to accept so advantageous an offer. But she considered matters in another light, alleged the consecration she had made of herself to another state, and answered the pope in a letter, that it was something much greater to be the last among the virgins who are consecrated to the divine service, than to be an empress, and the first woman in the world. Her courageous resolution was honored with congratulations from his holiness and St. Louis, and the sequel showed how much the better choice she made, in preferring the calm harbor of a retired life to the tempests and vices of such a court. Isabel fasted three days a week, and never ate but of the coarsest food, and only what seemed absolutely necessary for the support of nature. She sent from her table the nicest dishes to the poor and reserved for them almost whatever was at her disposal. St. Louis one day found her at her work, making a cap, and begged she would give it him as a token of her friendship, saying he would wear it for her sake. “This,” said she, “is the first work of the kind that I have spun; I therefore owe it to Jesus Christ, to whom all my first-fruits are due.” The king was exceedingly pleased with her answer, and desired she would spin another for him; which she accordingly did, after she had given the first to a poor man.

Humility was the favorite virtue of Saint Isabel, and she called the nunnery which she built at Longchamp, four miles from Paris, Of the Humility of our Lady, saying she chose that title because the Blessed Virgin was exalted to the dignity of Mother of God, chiefly on account of her profound humility. Our saint founded this house in 1252, for Minoresses or Clares, but obtained of Urban IV. a dispensation for them to be allowed to enjoy rents and possessions. After the death of her mother, she retired into this monastery. William of Nangis says she professed the Franciscan rule; but this is generally looked upon as a mistake; for all other writers assure us, that, on account of her frequent infirmities, she never made a religious profession, though she lived in the monastery, strenuously laboring to sanctify her soul by assiduous prayer, mortification, and patience under continual sickness for the six last years of her life. St. Louis, who tenderly loved her for her extraordinary virtue, frequently visited her. She died on the 22d of February, 1270, being forty-two years old. Her relics are enshrined at Longchamp. She was beatified by Leo X. in 1316. Urban VIII. granted an office in her honor. See her life, written by Agnes of Harcourt, her maid of honor. Ed. Du Cange, Joinville, Chalippe, Vie de S. François, t. 2, p. 285.

AUGUST 31 — ST. CUTHBURGE, QUEEN, VIRGIN, AND ABBESS

This saint was sister to king Ina, and was married to Alfred, who was crowned king of the Northumbers in 685. At her suit he allowed her to remain always a virgin, and to devote herself to her heavenly spouse in the monastery of Barking in Essex. She afterward founded that of Winburn, in Dorsetshire, which she governed, giving nerself up totally to fasting, watching, and holy prayer; humble both to God and man, meek and tender to others, but always austere to herself. She never ceased to exhort her sisters to live up to the dignity of spouses of the King of Heaven, to keep their hearts free from all affection to the things of this world, and ever to sigh after their heavenly home. Being purified by a long and painful illness, and strengthened with the viaticum of the precious body of Christ, she passed to everlasting bliss on the 31st of August, in the beginning of the eighth century. She is commemorated in the Sarum Breviary. See William of Malmesbury in king Ina, Leland, Harpsfield, Alford, and Cressy.

AUGUST 31 — ST. AIDAN, OR ÆDAN, BISHOP OF LINDISFARNE, C

When the holy king Oswald* desired the bishops of Scotland to send him a person honored with the episcopal character to preach the faith to his Anglo-Saxon pagan subjects, and plant the Church among them, the first person who came was of a rough austere temper, and therefore could do little good, and being soon forced to return home again, he laid the fault on the rude indocile dispositions of the English. Hereupon the Scottish clergy called a synod to deliberate what was best to be done. Aidan, who was present, told the prelate, on his blaming the obstinacy of the English, that the fault lay rather in him, who had been too harsh and severe to an ignorant people, who ought first to be fed with the milk of milder doctrine, till they should be able to digest more solid food. At this discourse the whole assembly turned their eyes upon him, as one endued with prudence, the mother of other virtues; and he was appointed to the great and arduous mission.

Aidan was a native of Ireland (then called Scotland), and a monk of Hij, the great monastery which his countryman, St. Columba, had founded, and to which the six neighboring islands were given, as Buchanan mentions. He was most graciously received by king Oswald, who bestowed on him for his episcopal seat the isle of Lindisfarne.* Of his humility and piety Bade gives an edifying account, and proposes him as an excellent pattern for succeeding bishops and clergymen to follow. He obliged all those who travelled with him, to bestow their time either in reading the scriptures, or in learning the psalms by heart. By his actions he showed that he neither sought nor loved the good things of this world; the presents which were made him by the king, or by other rich men, he distributed among the poor, or expended in redeeming captives. He rarely would go to the king’s table, and never without taking with him one or two of his clergy, and always after a short repast made haste away to read or pray in the church, or in his cell. From his example even the laity took the custom of fasting till none, that is till three in the afternoon, on all Wednesdays and Fridays, except during the fifty days of the Easter time. Our venerable historian admires his apostolic liberty in reproving the proud and the great, his love of peace, charity, continence, humility, and all other virtues, which he not only practised himself, but, by his spirit and example, communicated to a rough and barbarous nation, which he imbued with the meekness of the cross.† Aidan fixed his see at Lindisfarne, and founded a monastery there in the year of our Lord 635, the hundred and eighty-eighth after the coming of the English Saxons into Britain, the thirty-ninth after the arrival of St. Augustine, and the second of the reign of king Oswald. From this monastery all the churches of Bernicia, or the northern part of the kingdom of the Northumbers from the Tyne to the Firth of Edinburgh, had their beginning; as had some also of those of the Deïri, who inhabited the southern part of the same kingdom from the Tyne to the Humber. The see of York had been vacant thirty years, ever since St. Paulinus had left it; so that St. Aidan governed all the churches of the Northumbers for seventeen years, till his happy death, which happened on the 31st of August in 651, in the royal villa Bebbord. He was first buried in the cemetery in Lindisfarne; but when the new church of St. Peter was built there, his body was translated into it, and deposited on the right hand of the altar. Colman, when he returned into Scotland, carried with him part of his bones to St. Columb’s of Hij.‡ He is named on this day in the Roman Martyrology. See Bede: Leland Collect. t. 1, p. 512, alias 366.