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

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

MAY 1 — ST. PHILIP, APOSTLE

St. Philip was of Bethsaida, in Galilee, and called by our Saviour is follow him1 the day after St. Peter and St. Andrew.* He was at that time a married man, and had several daughters;† but his being engaged in the married state hindered him not, as St. Chrysostom observes, from meditating continually on the law and the prophets, which disposed him for the important discovery of the Messias in the person of Jesus Christ, in obedience to whose command he forsook all to follow him, and became thenceforth the inseparable companion of his ministry and labors. Philip had no sooner discovered the Messias, than he was desirous to make his friend Nathanael a sharer in his happiness, saying to him: We have found him of whom Moses in the law and the prophets did write, that is, the Messias; Jesus, the son of Joseph, of Nazareth. Nathanael was not so ready to give his assent to this assertion of his friend, by reason that the supposed Messias was reported to be of Nazareth. Philip therefore desired him to come himself to Jesus and see; not doubting but, upon his personal acquaintance with the Son of God, he would be as much convinced of the truth as he was himself. Nathanael complied, and Jesus, seeing him approach, said, within his hearing: Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no guile. Nathanael asked him, how he came to know him: Jesus replied: Before Philip called thee, when thou wast under the fig-tree, I saw thee. Nathanael, as two holy fathers explain the matter, calling to mind that the closeness of his retirement on that occasion was such, that no human creature could see him, owned him hereupon for the Son of God, and the King of Israel, or, in other words, the Messiah, foretold by Moses and the prophets. The marriage at Cana of Galilee happening three days after, to which Jesus and his disciples were invited, St. Philip was present at it with the rest. The year following, when our Lord formed the college of apostles, Philip was appointed one of that number, and, from the several passages of the gospel, he appears to have been particularly dear to his divine Master. Thus, when Jesus was about to feed five thousand persons, who had followed him into the wilderness, for the greater evidence of the miracle, and for the trial of this apostle’s faith, Jesus proposed to him the difficulty of feeding the multitudes in that desolate place.2 And a little before our Saviour’s passion, certain Gentiles, desirous to see Christ, made their first address to Philip, and by him and St. Andrew obtained that favor. Our Saviour, in the discourse he made to his disciples immediately after his last supper, having promised them a more clear and perfect knowledge of his heavenly Father than they had had hitherto, St. Philip cried out, with a holy eagerness and impatience: Lord, show us the Father, and it sufficeth us. From which words our Saviour took occasion to inculcate afresh a steady belief of his divinity, and perfect equality with the Father, saying So long a time have I been with you, (teaching you who I am both by my words and actions,) and have you not known me? (If you beheld me with the eyes of faith such as I really am, in seeing me you would see the Father also, because) I am in the Father, and the Father is in me.3

After our Lord’s ascension the gospel was to be preached to the whole world by a few persons, who had been eye-witnesses of his miracles, and were enabled, by the power of the Holy Ghost, to confirm their testimony concerning him by doing the like wonderful works themselves. That this might be accomplished, it was necessary that the disciples should quickly disperse themselves into all parts of the world. St. Philip accordingly preached the gospel in the two Phrygias, as Theodoret and Eusebius assure us from undoubted monuments. St. Polycarp, who was only converted in the year 80, enjoyed his conversation for some time,4 consequently St. Philip must have lived to a very advanced age. It appears, from a passage of Polycrates, quoted by Eusebius,5 that he was buried at Hierapolis, in Phrygia, which city was indebted to his relics for its preservation by continual miracles, as is averred by the author of the sermon on the twelve apostles, attributed to St. Chrysostom.6 An arm of St. Philip was brought from Constantinople to Florence, in 1204, whereof we have an authentic history in the Bollandists. The Orientals keep his festival on the 14th of November; the Latins on the 1st of May, with St. James. His body is said to be in the church of SS. Philip and James, in Rome, which was dedicated to God under their name, in 560. The emperor Theodosius, in a vision, received from St. John the Evangelist, and St. Philip, the assurance of victory over the tyrant Eugenius, the morning before the battle, in 394, as Theodoret relates.7

From St. Philip we must particularly learn an ardent love of God, and desire to see the Father. He asked only this favor, because this was his only desire. Is it ours? Do we feel it so perfect as to extinguish all inordinate earthly affections and desires in our breasts? Do we employ the proper means to attain to this happy disposition? To obtain it, let us employ the succor of this apostle’s prayers, and by disengaging our hearts from corruption and vanity, become, in desires and affections, citizens of heaven. The pilgrim soul sees herself a stranger here on earth, and discovers nothing in this desert place of her banishment hut an abyss of vanity, and subjects of compunction, grief, and fears. On the other side, looking up to God, she contemplates the magnificence and splendor of his kingdom, which will have no end; its peace, security, sanctity without stain, delights without sorrow, unchangeable and incomprehensible joys; and she cries out in a holy transport: “O joy surpassing all joys, and without which there is no true joys, when shall I possess you? O, sovereign good, discover to me some ray of thy beauty and of thy glory; may my heart be set on flame by thy love, und my soul languish and waste with desire to be united to thee, to behold thee face to face, to sing thy praises night and day, to drink of the plenty of thy house, and of the torrent of thy delights, to be forever confirmed in thy love, and in some measure transformed into thee!” Such a soul seeks to hide herself from the eyes of men, to live unknown to the world; and, in retirement and repose, to apply herself to prayer, all her thoughts being taken up in contemplating the glorious things which are said of the blessed city of her God. All worldly enjoyments and distractions are insupportable to her, and she finds no comfort in this place of banishment but in singing the praises of her God, in adoring and in doing always his will, and in the sweet sighs and tears with which she seeks him, and begs him to reign perfectly in her affections by his grace and love, and to draw her speedily to himself out of this Babylon, in which every object increases her affliction, and inflames her desire, seeming to say to her: Where is thy God?

MAY 1 — ST. JAMES THE LESS, APOSTLE

See Tillemont, t. 1, p. 405, Ceillier, t. 1, p. 422.

ST. JAMES, to distinguish him from the other apostle of the same name the son of Zebedee, was called the Less; which apellation is supposed to have taken its rise, either from his having been called later to the apostleship than the former, or from the lowness of his stature, or from his youth. He is also known by the title of James the Just, a denomination all agree, with Hegesippus1 and St. Clement of Alexandria, to have been given on account of his eminent sanctity. He was the son of Alpheus* and Mary, the sister of the Blessed Virgin, and seems to have been born some years before our Lord. Jesus came with his brethren, and probably St. James among the rest, to settle in Capharnaum, at the beginning of his ministry.2 James and his brother Jude were called to the apostleship in the second year of Christ’s preaching, soon after the Pasch, in the year 31. He was favored with an extraordinary apparition of his Master after his resurrection.3 Clement of Alexandria says, that Christ being risen from the dead, communicated the gift of science4 to SS. James the Just, John, and Peter, and that they imparted it to the other apostles. We are told by SS. Jerom5 and Epiphanius,6 that our Lord, at his ascension, recommended his church of Jerusalem to St. James; in consequence whereof the apostles, before their dispersion, constituted him bishop of that city. It was probably for a mark of his episcopal authority, and as an ensign of his dignity, that he wore on his head a lamina, or plate of gold, as is recounted by St. Epiphanius.7 Polycrates, quoted by Eusebius,8 testifies, that St. John did the same: others relate the like of St. Mark. It was probably done in imitation of the Jewish high-priest.

St. James governed that church in perpetual dangers, from the fury of the people and their violent persecutions; but his singular virtue procured him the veneration of the Jews themselves. As to his sanctity, Eusebius9 and St. Jerome10 give from Hegesippus the following account concerning him: “He was always a virgin, and was a Nazarite, or one consecrated to God. In consequence of which he was never shaved, never cut his hair, never drank any wine or other strong liquor; moreover, he never used any bath, or oil to anoint his limbs, and never ate of any living creature except when of precept, as the paschal lamb: he never wore sandals, never used any other clothes than one single linen garment. He prostrated so much in prayer, that the skin of his knees and forehead was hardened like to camels’ hoofs.” St. Epiphanius says,11 that, in a great drought, on stretching out his arms to heaven, he, by his prayers, instantly obtained rain. His eminent sanctity made even the Jews style him the just man: and Origen observes,12 that Josephus himself gives him that epithet, though it is not to be found now in Josephus’s works. The same reverence for his person procured him the privilege of entering at pleasure into the Sanctum or Holy place, namely, that part of the temple where none but the priests were allowed by the law to enter.13 St. Jerom adds,14 that the Jews strove, out of respect, who should touch the hem of his garment. In the year 51, he assisted at the council of the apostles, held at Jerusalem, about the observance of circumcision, and the other legal ceremonies of the law of Moses. Here, after having confirmed what St. Peter said, he devised the sentence which the apostles drew up on that occasion.15 This apostle being bishop of a church, which then chiefly consisted of Jewish converts, tolerated the use of the legal ceremonies,16 and, together with others, advised St. Paul to purify himself and offer sacrifice.17 He is the author of a canonical epistle which he wrote in Greek. It is at the head of those called catholic, or universal, because addressed not to any one particular church, but to the whole body of the converted Jews dispersed throughout the then known world. It was penned some time after those of St. Paul to the Galatians, in 55, and to the Romans in 58. It could not, therefore, be written before the year 59, fourteen years after the death of St. James the greater. The author’s view in this epistle is to refute the false teachers, who, abusing certain expressions in St. Paul’s writings, pretended that faith alone was sufficient to justification without good works: whereas, without these, he declares our faith is dead. He adds excellent precepts of a holy life, and exhorts the faithful not to neglect the sacrament of extreme unction in sickness.

The oriental liturgy or mass, which bears the name of this apostle, is mentioned by Proclus, patriarch of Constantinople, and by the council in Trullo, and is of venerable antiquity.* St. Basil, indeed, testifies,18 that the words of the sacred invocation in the consecration of the bread and of the cup, were not committed to writing, but learned and preserved by tradition down to the fourth century, which was done on a motive of respect and veneration: but other parts of the liturgy were written. Perhaps St. James gave only general directions about this liturgy, upon whose plan it was afterwards drawn up or enlarged. His singular learning in sacred matters is extolled by St. Clement of Alexandria,19 and St. Jerom.20

The Jews, being exasperated at the disappointment of their malicious designs against St. Paul by his appeal to Cæsar, to whom he was sent by Festus, in the year 60, were resolved to revenge it on St. James. That governor, dying before the arrival of his successor, Albinus, this vacancy gave them an opportunity of acting more arbitrarily than otherwise they durst have done. Wherefore, during this interval, Ananus, the high-priest, son of the famous Annas mentioned in the gospels, having assembled the Sanhedrim, or great council of the Jews, summoned St. James and others before it. Josephus, the Jewish historian, says,21 that St. James was accused of violating the laws, and delivered to the people to be stoned to death. And Hegesippus adds,22 that they carried him up to the battlements of the temple, and would have compelled him from thence to make a public renunciation of his faith in Christ, with this further view, thereby to undeceive, as they termed it, those among the people who had embraced Christianity. But St. James took that opportunity to declare his belief in Jesus Christ, after the most solemn and public manner. For he cried out aloud from the battlements, in the hearing of a great multitude, which was then at Jerusalem on account of the passover, that Jesus, the Son of man, was seated at the right hand of the Sovereign Majesty, and would come in the clouds of heaven to judge the world. The Scribes and Pharisees, enraged at this testimony in behalf of Jesus, cried out: “The just man also hath erred.” And going up to the battlements, they threw him headlong down to the ground, saying, “He must be stoned.” St. James, though very much bruised by his fall, had strength enough to get upon his knees, and in this posture, lifting up his eyes to heaven, he begged of God to pardon his murderers, seeing that they knew not what they did. The rabble below received him with showers of stones, and at last a fuller gave him a blow on the head with his club, such as is used in dressing of cloths, after which he presently expired. This happened on the festival of the Pasch, the 10th of April, in the year of Christ 62, the seventh of Nero. He was buried near the temple, in the place in which he was martyred, where a small column was erected. Such was the reputation of his sanctity, that the Jews attributed to his death the destruction of Jerusalem, as we read in St. Jerom,23 Origen,24 and Eusebius,25 who assure us that Josephus himself declared it in the genuine editions of his history. Ananus put others to death for the same cause, but was threatened for this very fact by Albinus, and deposed from the high-priesthood by Agrippa. The episcopal throne of St. James was shown with respect at Jerusalem, in the fourth century. His relics are said to have been brought to Constantinople about the year 572.

MAY 1 — ST. ASAPH. BISHOP, C

St. Kentigern, bishop of Glasgow, in Scotland, being driven from his own see, founded a monastery and episcopal chair on the banks of the river Elwy, in North Wales. Bishop Usher writes, from John of Tinmouth, that, in this abbey, nine hundred and sixty-five monks served God in great continence. Three hundred who were illiterate, this holy abbot appointed to till the ground, and take care of the cattle: other three hundred to do necessary work within the monastery; and three hundred and sixty-five he deputed to celebrate the divine office. These last never went out of the monastery, unless upon some urgent necessity, but attended continually in God’s sanctuary, being divided into companies, one of which began the divine office in the choir as another had finished it, and went out, as among the Acæmetes, at Constantinople: by this means the divine praises suffered no interruption in the church. Among these monks St. Asaph shone as a bright light, most illustrious for his birth, virtues, and miracles. When St. Kentigern was called back to Glasgow, he appointed St. Asaph, the most distinguished for learning and piety among his disciples, abbot and bishop at Llan-Elwy. Our saint was a diligent preacher, and had frequently this saying in his mouth: “They who withstand the preaching of God’s word, envy the salvation of men.” St. Asaph wrote certain canons or ordinances of his church, the life of St. Kentigern, and some other works. He died about the close of the sixth century; for he flourished about the year 590. From him the see of Elwy took the name of St. Asaph’s: though it continued long vacant; for we find no mention of any other bishop of St. Asaph’s before the twelfth century, when Geoffrey of Monmouth was advanced to that episcopal chair. Wharton gives him a predecessor named Gilbert. See Le Neve’s Fasti, p. 20; Dr. Brown Willis, and principally Leland de Script. Angl.

MAY 1 — ST. MARCOU, OR MARCULFUS,

Abbot of Nanteu, in the diocese of Coutances, in Normandy, famous for miracles, especially in healing the scrofulous disorder, called the king’s evil. He died on the first of May, in 558, and is honored in the Martyrologies of Coutances, Evreux, &c.

MAY 1 — ST. SIGISMUND, KING OF BURGUNDY, M

Wonderful is the providence of God in the means by which he preserves his elect from the contagion of vice, and conducts them to eternal life. This saint was son of Gondebald, the Arian king of the Burgundians, but embraced the Catholic faith through the instructions of St. Alcimus Avitus, bishop of Vienne.* He succeeded to the kingdom of his father in 516, and in the midst of barbarism lived humble, mortified, penitent, devout, and charitable, even on the throne; a station in which the very name of true virtue is too often scarce known. Before the death of his father, he built the famous monastery of St. Maurice at Agaune, in the Valais, in the year 515, where many holy hermits lived before that time in scattered cells. God permitted this good prince to fall into a snare. He suffered his son Sigeric to be put to death, upon an accusation forged by his second wife, of a conspiracy against his life: but afterwards discovering the calumny, and pierced to the quick with remorse, he retired to Agaune, where he did penance in tears and sackcloth. He made it his prayer to God that he might be punished in this life, to escape the divine vengeance in the next. His prayer was heard: for being taken prisoner by Chlodomir, the barbarous king of the Franks, he was, by his order, drowned in a well at Columelle, four leagues from Orleans, after he had reigned one year. His body was kept honorably at Agaune, till it was removed to the cathedral of Prague by the emperor Charles IV.1 It has been famous for many miracles. See St. Gregory of Tours, Hist. Fr. 1. 3, c. 5 and 6, and Henschenius’s Collections, t. 1, Maij p. 83.

MAY 1 — ST. ANDEOLUS, MARTYR

He was a disciple of St. Polycarp, preached the gospel in Gaul, and received the crown of martyrdom at Bergoiate upon the Rhone, his head being sawn asunder with a wooden saw, by an order of the emperor Severus, in his march through Gaul for Britain, in the year 208.* The town of St. Andiol, in Vivarez, is possessed of the treasure of his relics See Bosquet, part 2; Hist. Eccles. Gallic. p. 91; Henschenius, p. 35.

MAY 1 — S. BRIEUC, IN LATIN BRIOCUS, B. C

He was of an illustrious extraction in Great Britain, a native of the province called Coriticiana, which some take for Ceretica, now Cardiganshire: others for the Coretans, situated on the Trent, now in Staffordshire and Derbyshire: others will have it to be Cornwall. His father was called Cerpus, and his mother Eldrude.† St. Germanus of Auxerre, coming into Britain in 429, St. Brieuc, then about twenty years of age, became his disciple, and followed him back to France, where he was some time after promoted to priest’s orders. Returning afterwards into his own country, he converted his parents, and, with their liberal assistance, built a famous church called Grande-Lann, and there trained up a great number of disciples. Several years after he passed into Armorica, where he landed at Achm, perhaps in the country of Achk, in the bishopric of Leon. In the territory of Treguier he converted from a worldly life a wealthy nobleman named Conan, by whose liberality he was enabled to build a monastery in the northern part of Armorica, which he governed some years. At length, appointing another abbot of the numerous community which he had formed, he repaired to his relation and friend, prince Riwallon, or Rigald, anciently prince of Domnonia, in Britain. This prince, who had lately settled with a colony of his British subjects in part of Armorica, gave to the saint a house and parcel of lands, where he built a monastery and a church, which was afterwards dedicated to God under the patronage of St. Stephen. The saint took upon him the government of this monastery, and departed to God in peace about the year 502, being upwards of ninety years old. His legend mentions not his episcopal character, but he is styled a bishop in an inscription on a marble stone, found in his shrine, in 1210. He seems to have been ordained a regionary bishop before he left Britain. The monastery of St. Brieuc, which was then grown into a considerable town, was only erected into a bishopric in 844. The relics of St. Brieuc, during the invasion of the Normans, were translated to the abbey of St. Sergius, at Angers, in 866, but a portion was restored to St. Brieuc’s, in 1210. See Dom. Lobineau, Vies des Sts. de la Bretagne p. 11, who recovered great part of his acts, which Henschenius was not able to meet with. T. 1, Maij. p. 81.

MAY 1 — S. AMATOR, BISHOP OF AUXERRE, C

He served God from his infancy with his whole heart, and applied himself to the study of the sacred sciences under Valerian, bishop of Auxerre. In compliance with the desires of his parents, he took to wife Martha, a rich young lady of Langres; but no sooner was the contract solemnized in the church, but, taking her aside, he spoke to her in such strong terms on the advantages of holy virginity, that, by her free consent, they on the spot engaged themselves, by a mutual vow, to embrace that state for the sake of more perfect virtue. She soon after took the religious veil, and he received the clerical tonsure. Being afterwards chosen bishop of Auxerre, he governed that church thirty years, from 388 to 418, laboring to conduct his flock by his example and assiduous exhortations, in the paths of eternal salvation. He died on the first of May, 418. See his life, and that of Saint Germanus and other monuments, collected by Henschenius, t. 1, Maij. p. 50.

MAY 1 — SS. ACIUS AND ACHEOLUS, CALLED IN FRENCH SS. ACH AND ACHEUL, MARTYRS OF AMIENS

They seem to have suffered about the year 200, and are honored in the Gallican Martyrologies, and especially at Amiens, on the first of May. See Molanus in Auctario Usuardi, and Henschenius, 1st of May, and an old Martyrology under the name of St. Jerom, quoted by him.

The church of St. Acheul, without the walls of Amiens, was originally the cathedral; but this being removed by St. Salvius to our Lady’s in the city, the church of St. Acheul became dependent on it. A community of regular canons was there erected in 1145. It is now a member of the reformed congregation of St. Genevieve. In digging foundations for a new church, five very ancient tombs were found, which nave been the subject of many dissertations, especially whether one is not that of St. Firminus, bishop and confessor, whose relics are enshrined in the cathedral.

MAY 2 — ST. ATHANASIUS, PATRIARCH OF ALEXANDRIA, DOCTOR OF THE CHURCH

From his works, and the fathers and historians of that age. See his life by Hermant, who first cleared up the Intricate history of Arianism. See also Tillemont, Ceillier, Orsl, the Benedictin editors of this father, and Combefis, Bibl. Concionat. p. 500 ad 530.

A. D. 373.

ST. GREGORY NAZIANZEN begins with these words his panegyric of this glorious saint, and champion of the faith:1 “When I praise Athanasius, virtue itself is my theme: for I name every virtue as often as I mention him who was possessed of all virtues. He was the true pillar of the church. His life and conduct were the rule of bishops, and his doctrine the rule of the orthodox faith.” St. Athanasius was a native of Alexandria, and seems to have been born about the year 296. His parents, who were Christians, and remarkable for their virtue, were solicitous to procure him the best education. After he had learned grammar and the first elements of the sciences, St. Alexander, before he was raised to the episcopal chair of that city, was much delighted with the virtuous deportment of the youth, and with the pregnancy of his wit; and took upon himself the direction of his studies, brought him up under his own eye, always made him eat with him, and employed him as his secretary. Athanasius copied diligently the virtues of his master, imbibed his maxims of piety and holy zeal, was directed by him in the plan and method of his studies, and received from him the greatest assistance in the pursuit of them. By writing under so great a master, he acquired the most elegant, easy, and methodical manner of composition. Profane sciences he only learned as far as they were necessary, or might be rendered subservient to those that are most sublime and important: but from their aid he contracted an elegant, clear, methodical, and masterly style; and was qualified to enter the lists in defence of our holy faith with the greatest advantage. However, the sacred studies of religion and virtue he made the serious employment of his whole life: and how much he excelled in them, the sequel of his history and perusal of his works show. From his easy and ready manner of quoting the holy scriptures, one would imagine he knew them by heart; at least, by the assiduous meditation and study of those divine oracles he had filled his heart with the spirit of the most perfect piety, and his mind with the true science of the profound mysteries which our divine religion contains. But in his study of the sacred writings, the tradition of the church was his guide, which he diligently sought in the comments of the ancient doctors, as he testifies.2 In another place, he declares that he had learned it from holy inspired masters, and martyrs for the divinity of Christ.3 That he might neglect no branch of ecclesiastical learning, he applied himself diligently to the study of the canons of the church, in which no one was more perfectly versed: nor was he a stranger to the civil law, as appears from his works; on which account Sulpicius Severus styles him a lawyer.

Achillas, who had succeeded St. Peter in the patriarchal see of Alexandria, dying in 313, St. Alexander was promoted to that dignity.* The desire of grounding himself in the most perfect practice of virtue drew St. Athanasius into the deserts to the great St. Antony, about the year 315; with whom he made a considerable stay, serving him in quality of a disciple, and regarding it as an honor to pour water on his hands when he washed them.4 When he had by his retreat prepared himself for the ministry of the altar, he returned to the city, and having passed through the inferior degrees of ecclesiastical orders, was ordained deacon about the year 319. St. Alexander was so much taken with his prudence, virtue, and learning, that he desired to have him always with him, and governed his flock by his advice. He stood much in need of such a second, in defending his church against the calumnies and intrigues of the schismatics and heretics. The holy patriarch St. Peter had, at the intercession of the martyrs and confessors, dispensed with the rigor of the canons in behalf of certain persons who through frailty had fallen into idolatry during the persecution, and upon their repentance had received them again to communion. Meletius, bishop of Lycos in Thebais, unjustly took offence at this lenity, and on that pretence formed a schism over all Egypt against St. Peter and his successors. Arius. a Lybian by birth, and a deacon, who for seditious practices was expelled the church by his bishop St. Peter, fell in with Meletius. St. Peter was so well acquainted with his turbulent spirit, that no entreaties could move him, even when he was going to martyrdom, to receive him into the communion of the church. However, his successor, Achillas, upon his submission and repentance, not only admitted him into his communion, but also ordained him priest, and intrusted him with the church of Baucalis, one of the parishes of the city. Achillas was succeeded by St. Alexander, whose promotion Arius resented as an injury done to himself, being in his own opinion the more worthy: and some time after impudently and blasphemously asserted that Christ was not God, but a mere creature, though formed before all other created beings, (but not from eternity,) and of a nature superior in perfection to all other creatures. St. Alexander long endeavored by mildness to reclaim the heresiarch, but was compelled by his obstinacy to cut him off from the communion of the church, in a synod of all the bishops under his jurisdiction, held at Alexandria. Arius fled first into Palestine, and thence to Nicomedia, where he had already gained by letters the confidence of Eusebius, the crafty bishop of that city. In 319, St. Alexander sent an account of his proceedings against Arius in a circular letter directed to all the bishops of the church, signed by St. Athanasius and many others. In 325, he took the holy deacon with him to the council of Nice, who there distinguished himself by the extraordinary zeal and learning with which he encountered not only Arius, but also Eusebius of Nicomedia, Theognis, and Maris, the principal protectors of that heresiarch; and he had a great share in the disputations and decisions of that venerable assembly, as Theodoret, Sozomen, and St. Gregory Nazianzen testify.

Five months after this great council, St. Alexander, lying on his deathbed, by a heavenly inspiration recommended to his clergy and people the choice of Athanasius for his successor, thrice repeating his name; and when he was found to be absent, he cried out: “Athanasius, you think to escape, but you are mistaken.”5 Sozomen says he had absconded for fear of being chosen. In consequence of this recommendation, the bishops of all Egypt assembled at Alexandria, and finding the people and clergy unanimous in their choice of Athanasius for patriarch, they confirmed the election about the middle of the year 326; for St. Cyril testifies,6 that he held that chair forty six years. He seems then to have been about thirty years of age. He ordained Frumentius bishop of the Æthiopiaus, and made the visitation of the churches under his jurisdiction throughout all Egypt. The Meletians continued, after the death of their author, to hold private assemblies, ordain new bishops by their own authority, everywhere to divide the people, and to fill Egypt with factions and schisms. In vain did St. Athanasius employ all the power which his authority put into his hands, to bring them back to the unity of the church. The severity of their morals gained them a reputation among the people, and their opposition to the Catholics moved the Arians to court their friendship. Though these schismatics were in the beginning orthodox in faith, and the first and most violent opposers of Arius, yet they soon after joined his partisans in calumniating and impugning St. Athanasius; for which purpose they entered into a solemn league of iniquity together. For St. Athanasius observes,7 that as Herod and Pontius Pilate forgot their enmity to agree in persecuting Christ, so the Meletians and Arians dissembled their private animosities, to enter into a mutual confederacy and cabal against the truth: which is the spirit of all sectaries, who, though divided in every other thing, unite in persecuting the truth and opposing the church.

Arius being recalled from banishment, into which he had been sent by the emperor, St. Athanasius refused him entrance into the church, whereupon he retired to his friends in Palestine and the neighboring eastern provinces, at whose entreaty Constantine urged St. Athanasius to admit him to his communion. The intrepid patriarch answered the emperor, that the Catholic church could hold no communion with heresy that so impudently attacked the divinity of Jesus Christ.8 Eusebius of Nicomedia, and Theognis, after three years’ banishment, seeing Arius already released from his exile, wrote a letter to the emperor, which is extant in Socrates and Sozomen, artfully declaring that they all agreed in faith, that they received the word consubstantial, having now fully examined its meaning, and that they entirely gave themselves up to peace; but could not anathematize Arius, whom, by a long converse with him, and both by word and writing, they had found not to be guilty of what had been laid to his charge, and who had already met with a favorable reception from his imperial majesty. Hereupon the sentence of their banishment was reversed, and they were both permitted to return to their respective sees. This Eusebius had before ambitiously procured his translation from the see of Berytus to that of Nicomedia, which being at that time the residence of the eastern emperors, gave him a fair opportunity of ingratiating himself with the great ministers of state, and thereby of rendering himself considerable for power and interest at court. He neither wanted parts nor learning, was of a subtle and daring temper, a deep dissembler, and the most artful of men; and on these accounts a proper instrument of the devil to be the contriver of the calumnies and persecutions against our saint and the Catholic church. He was no sooner come back to Nicomedia, than he began to set his engines at work. He first wrote a civil letter to St. Athanasius, wherein he endeavored to justify Arius. But neither his own flattering words, not the emperor’s threats, which he procured, prevailing, he wrote to the Meletians that the time was now come to put their designs in execution and impeach Athanasius. It was some time before they could agree what they should lay to his charge. At length they sent three of their schismatical bishops, Isio, Eudæmon, and Callinicus, to Nicomedia, who undertook to accuse him to the emperor of having exacted linen for the use of his church, and imposed it as a tribute upon the people; also of sending a purse of gold to one Philumenus, who was plotting to usurp the empire. Athanasius being summoned to appear before Constantine, his cause was heard in his palace of Psammathia, situated in the suburbs of Nicomedia. The emperor, having examined the accusations against him, was convinced of his innocence, acquitted him of what had been alleged against him, and sent him back with a letter to the faithful of Alexandria, wherein he calls him a man of God, and a most venerable person.

Eusebius, though baffled for the present, did not despair of compassing his ends; and, in the mean time, contrived the banishment of St. Eustathius, the most zealous and holy patriarch of Antioch. And soon after, new allegations were laid against Athanasius, charging him with the murder of Arsenius, a Meletian bishop, and with other crimes. Constantine appeared shocked at the accusation of the murder, and sent an order to St. Athanasius to clear himself in a council, which was to be held at Cæsarea, in Palestine, whereof Eusebius, one of the Arian party, was bishop. The saint, disliking it, no doubt, on this account, and justly apprehensive he should not have liberty allowed him for his defence, did not appear. This his enemies represented to Constantine as the effect of pride and stubbornness; who, being exasperated by these suggestions, began to entertain an ill opinion of him, and appointed another council to assemble at Tyre, where he commanded Athanasius, at his peril, to appear. The council met there in August, 335, consisting of sixty bishops, chiefly Arians. St. Athanasius, after some delay, came thither, attended with a considerable number of bishops of his own province, and, among these, the illustrious confessors, Paphnutius and Potamon. All the chiefs of the Arian sect were present; the two Eusebiuses, Flacillus, the intruded bishop of Antioch, Theognis of Nice, Maris of Chalcedon, Narcissus of Neronias, Theodorus of Heraclea, Patrophilus of Scythopolis, Ursacius of Syngidon, Valens of Mursa, and George of Laodicea. The just exception which St. Athanasius made against such judges who had declared themselves his enemies, was tyrannically overruled, and, on his entering the council, they, instead of allowing him to take his place among them, obliged him to stand as a criminal at the bar before his judges. St. Potamon could not forbear tears upon the occasion; and, addressing himself to Eusebius of Cæsarea, who had been a prisoner with him for the faith in the late persecution, cried out: “What, Eusebius, are you sitting on the bench, and doth Athanasius stand arraigned? Who can bear this with patience? Tell me; was not you in prison with me during the persecution? As for my part, I lost an eye in it, but I see you are whole and sound. How came you to escape so well?” By which words he insinuated a suspicion of public fame, that Eusebius had been guilty of some unlawful compliance. The rest of the Egyptian bishops persisted in refusing to allow those to be judges of their patriarch, who were his professed enemies; but their remonstrances were not regarded.

The first article of accusation against the saint was, that Macarius, his deputy, had been guilty of sacrilege, in breaking the chalice of one Ischyras, a supposed priest, while he was officiating at the altar. This, which had been already proved to be mere calumny, and was further confuted by deputies sent from Tyre into Egypt to examine into the state of the affair whereby it appeared that the whole charge was groundless and malicious, and that Ischyras, who at length was reconciled to St. Athanasius, had been set on by certain bishops of the Meletian faction. He was next accused of having ravished a virgin consecrated to God: and a woman was accordingly prevailed with to own and attest the fact in open council. Whereupon Timothy, one of the saint’s clergy, turning to her, “Woman,” said he, “did I ever lodge at your house; did I ever, as you pretend, offer violence to you?” “Yes,” said she, “you are the very person I accuse;” adding, at large, the circumstances of time and place. The imposture thus plainly discovering itself, put the contrivers of it so much out of countenance, that they drove her immediately out of the assembly. St. Athanasius indeed insisted on her staying, and being obliged to declare who it was that had suborned her; but this was overruled by his enemies, alleging that they had more important crimes to charge him with, and such as it was impossible to elude by any artifices whatsoever. They proceeded next to the affair of Arsenius, an old Meletian bishop, whom they accused St. Athanasius of having murdered. To support this charge, they produced in court a dried and, supposed to be the hand of Arsenius, which, as they alleged, the patriarch had ordered to be cut off, to be employed in magical operations. The truth was: Arsenius, styled by his party bishop of Hypsele, had fallen into some irregularity, and had absconded. St. Athanasius had first procured certificates from many persons that he was still living; and prevailed with him afterwards, through the interest of friends, to come privately to Tyre, to serve Athanasius on this occasion. The saint therefore asked if any of the bishops present knew Arsenius: several answering, they did; he then made him appear before the whole assembly with both his hands. Thus was the wicked purpose of his adversaries defeated, no less to the pleasure and satisfaction of the innocent, than to the shame and confusion of the guilty. Arsenius soon after made his peace with St. Athanasius, and with the Catholic church; as did also John, the most famous of the Meletian bishops. The Arians called the saint a magician, and one that imposed upon their senses by the black art; and would have torn him to pieces had not the imperial governor interposed and rescued him out of their hands, who for further security sent him on board a ship that sailed the same night. Having thus escaped their fury, he went soon after for Constantinople. All these particulars are related by St. Athanasius, in his apology: also by Socrates, Sozomen, and Theodoret. Though the saint had been convicted of no crime, the Arian bishops pronounced against him a sentence of deposition, forbidding him to reside at Alexandria, lest his presence should excite new disorders there, repeating in their sentence the calumnies which had been so fully refuted.

Constantine, who had refused to see or give audience to our saint on his arrival at Constantinople, whom he looked upon as justly condemned by a council, sent an order to the bishops of Tyre to adjourn to Jerusalem, for the dedication of the church of the holy sepulchre, which he had caused to be built there. Arius came thither at this time to the council, with a letter from the emperor, and a profession of faith which he had presented to him, and which is extant in Socrates. In it the subtle heretic professes his belief in Christ, “as begotten before all worlds: God the Word, by whom all things were made, &c.” But neither the word consubstantial, nor any thing equivalent to it, was there. The heresiarch had assured the emperor that he received the council of Nict, who was thus imposed upon by his hypocrisy; but he ordered the bishops to examine his profession of faith. The Eusebians readily embraced the opportunity which they had long waited for, declared Arius orthodox, and admitted him to the communion. St. Athanasius, in the mean time, having requested of the emperor, who had refused him audience, that his pretended judges might be obliged to confront him, and that he might be allowed the liberty to exhibit his complaints against them, Constantine sent them an order to come to Constantinople to give an account of their transactions at Tyre. But only six, and these the most artful of the number, obeyed the summons, namely, Eusebius, Theognis, Maris, Patrophilus, Ursacius, and Valens. These agreed to attack St. Athanasius with a fresh accusation, as they did, charging him with having threatened to hinder the yearly transportation of corn from Alexandria to Constantinople. This accusation, though protested against by the saint as absolutely false and to the last degree improbable, was nevertheless believed by Constantine, who expressed his resentment at it, and banished him, in consequence, to Triers, then the chief city of the Belgic Gaul.

The holy man arrived there in the beginning of the year 336, and was received with the greatest respect by St. Maximinus, bishop of the place, and by Constantine the younger, who commanded there for his father. St. Antony and the people of Alexandria wrote to the emperor in favor of their pastor: but he answered that he could not despise the judgment of a council.* The saint had the satisfaction to be informed that his church at Alexandria constantly refused to admit Arius. The year after, on Whitsunday, the 12th of May, Constantine departed this life, being sixty-three years and almost three months old, while he yet wore the Neophyte’s white garment after his baptism. His historian testifies with what ardor the people offered up their prayers to God for his soul.† He was buried in the porch of the church of the twelve apostles, which he had founded in Constantinople for the burying-place of the emperors and patriarchs, though he had built that of St. Irene for the great church or the cathedral. He would be buried in that holy place, according to Eusebius, “that he might deserve to enjoy the benefit of the mystical sacrifice, and the communion of devout prayers.”9 Constantine’s three sons divided the empire, as their father’s will directed. Constantine, the eldest, had Britain, Spain, Gaul, and all that lies on this side the Alps: Constantius, the second son, Thrace, Asia, Egypt, and the East: Constans, the youngest, had Italy, Africa, Greece, and Illyricum. Constantine, the younger, restored St. Athanasius to his see, sending with him a letter filled with high commendations of the holy prelate, and expressions of great respect for his sanctity, and of indignation against his adversaries. The saint passed through Syria, and was received by his flock with a joy and pomp equal to the triumph of an emperor.

The city of Alexandria was situate within the jurisdiction of Constantius, whom the Arians had gained over to their party without much difficulty. These heretics accused St. Athanasius afresh to the three emperors for raising tumults and seditions upon his return, for committing violences and murder, and selling, for his own private use, the corn which Constantine had destined for the support of widows and ecclesiastics in those countries where corn did not grow; but the attestations of the bishops who had received it in Lybia justified him, and covered his accusers with confusion. Constantine and Constans sent away their deputies with disgrace: but Constantius being met at Antioch by Eusebius of Nicomedia, and others of his party, was easily persuaded into the belief of this last head of the accusation, and prevailed upon to grant them leave to choose a new bishop of Alexandria. They lost no time, but, assembling at Antioch, named one Pistus to that see, an Egyptian priest of their sect, who, together with the bishop that ordained him, had been condemned by St. Alexander and by the council of Nice: but pope Julius rejected his communion, and all other Catholic churches pronounced anathemas against him; nor was he ever able to get possession of the patriarchal chair. St. Athanasius called a council of about a hundred bishops, at Alexandria, to defend the Catholic faith: after which he repaired to Rome to pope Julius, to whom this council sent letters and deputies. Here the pope acquitted him in a council of fifty bishops, held in 341, and confirmed him in his see: but he was obliged to continue at Rome three years, during which the Arians carried on every thing by violence in the East. The same year a council met at Antioch to the dedication of the great church, called the Golden church, and framed twenty-five canons of discipline. After the departure of the orthodox prelates, the Arians framed a canon levelled against St. Athanasius, that if a bishop, who had been deposed in a council, whether justly or unjustly, should return to his church without the authority of a greater council than that which had deposed him, he should never hope to be re-established, nor have his cause admitted to a hearing. They then named Gregory, a Cappadocian, and placed him by force of arms in the see of Alexandria, in 341. The emperor Constans, in 345, invited St. Athanasius to Milan; and, by earnest letters, obliged his brother Constantius to join with him in assembling a general council of the East and West at Sardica, in Illyricum. It met in May, 347, and consisted of three hundred bishops of the West, and seventy-six of the East, according to Socrates and Sozomen; but, according to St. Athanasius, only of one hundred and seventy, besides the Eusebians; which agrees nearly with Theodoret, who reckons them in all two hundred and fifty. They were collected out of thirty-five provinces, besides the Orientals. This is reputed a general council, and is proved such by Natalis Alexander, though commonly looked upon only as an appendix to that of Nice. St. Athanasius, Marcellus of Ancyra, and Asclepas of Gaza, were acquitted. They and some others out of the eastern empire were present. But the Arian Orientals made a body apart, being fourscore in number, who having formed several assemblies in certain places by the way, on their arrival at Sardica, refused, as they had agreed before they came, to join the other prelates; alleging the presence of Athanasius, and other such frivolous pretences; and at length, upon an intimation of the threats of the synod, if they did not appear, and if the Eusebians did not justify themselves of the matters said to their charge, they all fled by night, and held a pretended council at Philippopolis, as St. Hilary, in his fragments, and Socrates testify. Dr. Cave alleges that they dated their acts a Sardica: but this they did only to usurp the venerable name of that synod for at the same time they quote the synodal epistle of the prelates who remained at Sardica, before the date of which epistle all historians testify that they had left that city. The true council excommunicated the chiefs of the Eusebians, with Gregory the Cappadocian, forbidding all Catholic bishops to hold communication with them.* This council sent two deputies to Constantius to press the execution of its decrees. The emperor Constans wrote to him also, both before and after the council, to acquaint him, that, unless he restored Athanasius to his see, and punished his calumniators, he would do it by force of arms. Gregory the Cappadocian, who had, with the Arian governors, exercised a most bloody persecution against the Catholics, and among others had caused to be beaten to death the holy confessor St. Potamon, dying four months after the council of Sardica, facilitated our saint’s return to Alexandria, and deprived the emperor of all pretexts for hindering or delaying it. Constantius had also upon his hands an unsuccessful war against the Persians, and dreaded the threats of a civil war from his brother. Therefore he wrote thrice to the holy prelate, entreating him to hasten his return to Alexandria. St. Athanasius, at the request of Constans, went first to him, then residing in Gaul, and probably at Milan, and thence to Rome, to take leave of pope Julius and his church. He took Antioch on his way home, where he found Constantius, who treated him with great courtesy, and only desired that he would allow the Arians one church in Alexandria. The saint answered, that he hoped, that, in that case, the same favor might be granted to the Catholics at Antioch, who adhered to Eustathius: but this not being relished by the Arians, Constantius insisted no longer on that point, but recommended Athanasius in very strong terms to his governors in Egypt. In the mean time, the zealous and pious emperor Constans was treacherously slain by Magnentius, in Gaul, in January, 350. Nevertheless, Constantius restored Athanasius, who immediately assembled a council at Alexandria, and confirmed the decrees of that of Sardica. St. Maximus did the same in a numerous synod at Jerusalem. Many Arian bishops on this occasion retracted their calumnies against the holy man, and also their heresy, among whom were Ursacius and Valens: but they soon returned to the vomit.

Magnentius usurped the empire in Italy, Gaul, and Africa, and Vetrannio in Pannonia. Constantius marched into the West against them. He made himself master of Vetrannio’s person by a stratagem, and his army defeated Magnentius, near Mursa, in Pannonia, in 351, and that tyrant fell soon after, by his own sword. While Constantius resided at Sirmium, in 351, a council was held in that city, consisting chiefly of oriental bishops, most of them Arians. Photinus, bishop of that see, who renewed the heresy of Sabellius, and affirmed Christ to be no more than a mere man, having been already condemned by two councils at Milan, was here excommunicated, deposed, and banished by the emperor. The profession of faith drawn up in this synod, is commonly esteemed orthodox, and called the first confession of Sirmium. The Arians had never ceased to prepossess the credulous emperor against Athanasius, whose active zeal was their terror; and that prince was no sooner at liberty, by seeing the whole empire in his own hands, than he began again to persecute him. He procured him to be condemned by certain Arian bishops, at Arles, in 353, and again at Milan, in 355, where he declared himself his accuser, and banished the Catholic bishops who refused to subscribe his condemnation, as SS. Eusebius of Vercelli, Dionysins of Milan. Paulinus of Triers, &c. He sent a chamberlain to obtain of pope Liberius the confirmation of this unjust sentence: but he rejected the proposal with indignation, though enforced with presents and threats. Liberius not only refused the presents which were brought him, but, when the messenger sought means to deposite them, as an offering in St. Peter’s church, unknown to the pope, he threw them out of doors. Constantius hereupon sent for him under a strict guard to Milan, where, in a conference, recorded by Theodoret, he boldly told Constantius that Athanasius had been acquitted at Sardica, and his enemies proved calumniators and impostors, and that it was unjust to condemn a person who could not be legally convicted of any crime: the emperor was reduced to silence on every article; but being the more out of patience, ordered him, unless he complied within three days, to go into banishment to Berœa, in Thrace. He sent him, indeed, five hundred pieces of gold to bear his charges, but Liberius refused them, saying, he might bestow them on his flatterers: as he did also a like present from the empress, bidding the messenger learn to believe in Christ, and not to persecute the church of God. After the three days were expired, he departed into exile, in 356. Constantius, going to Rome to celebrate the twentieth year of his reign, in 357, the ladies joined in a petition to him that he would restore Liberius, who had been then two years in banishment. He assented, upon condition that he should comply with the bishops then at court. About this time Liberius began to sink under the hardships of his exile, and his resolution was shaken by the continual solicitations of Demophilus, the Arian bishop of Berœa, and of Fortunatian, the temporizing bishop of Aquileia. He was so far softened by listening to flatteries and suggestions, to which he ought to have stopped his ears with horror, that he yielded to the snare laid for him, to the great scandal of the church. He subscribed the condemnation of St. Athanasius, and a confession, or creed, which had been framed by the Arians at Sirmium, though their heresy was not expressed in it; and he wrote to the Arian bishops of the East, that he had received the true Catholic faith which many bishops had approved at Sirmium.* The fall of so great a prelate, and so illustrious a confessor, is a terrifying example of human weakness, which no one can call to mind without trembling for himself. St. Peter fell by a presumptuous confidence in his own strength and resolution; that we may learn that every one stands only by humility. Liberius, however, speedily imitated the repentance of the prince of the apostles. And he no sooner had recovered his see, than he again loudly declared himself the patron of justice and truth: and, when the council of Rimini was betrayed into a prevarication, which was construed in favor of Arianism, Liberius vigorously opposed the danger, and by his strenuous active zeal, averted the desolation with which it threatened many churches, as Theodoret testifies.10

Constantius, not content to have banished the bishops who favored Athanasius, also threatened and punished all the officers and magistrates who refused to join in communion with the Arians. While his presence in the West filled it with confusion and acts of tyranny, St. Athanasius was at Alexandria, offering up to God most fervent prayers for the defence of the faith. Constantius next turned all his rage against him and against the city of Alexandria, sending orders to Syrianus, the duke, that is, general of the troops of Egypt, to persecute the archbishop and his clergy. He likewise dispatched two notaries to see his orders executed. They endeavored to oblige the saint to leave the city. He answered, that he had returned to his see, and had resided there till that time by the emperor’s express order, and therefore could not leave it without a command of equal authority, (which they owned was not in their power to produce,) or unless Syrianus, the duke, or Maximus, the prefect or governor, would give him such an order in writing, which neither of them would do. Syrianus, convinced of the justice of his plea, promised to give neither him nor the public assemblies of his people any further disturbance, without express injunction from the emperor to that effect. Twenty-three days after this solemn promise, confirmed by oath, the faithful were assembled at the church of St. Theonas, where they passed the night in prayer, on account of a festival to be celebrated the next day. Syrianus, conducted by the Arians, surrounded the church at midnight, with above five hundred soldiers, who having forced open the doors, committed the greatest disorders. The patriarch, however, kept his chair; and, being determined not to desert his flock in their distress, ordered a deacon to sing the 136th psalm, and the people to repeat alternately: For his mercy endureth forever. After this, he directed them to depart and make the best of their way to their own houses, protesting that he would be the last that left that place. Accordingly, when the greatest part of the people were gone out, and the rest were following, the clergy and monks that were left forced the patriarch out along with them; whom (though almost stifled to death) they conveyed safe through the guards and secured him out of their reach. Numbers on this occasion were trampled to death by the soldiers, or slain by their darts. This relation is given by the saint in his apology for his flight, and in his History of the Arians, addressed to the monks. The next step of the Arians was to fix a trusty man of their party in this important see: and the person they pitched upon was one George, who had been victualler to the army, one of the most brutish and cruel of men: who was accordingly placed in the patriarchal chair. His roughness and savage temper made him seem the fittest instrument to oppress the Catholics, and he renewed all the scenes of bloodshed and violence of which Gregory had set the example, as Theodoret relates. Our holy bishop hereupon retired into the deserts of Egypt: but was not permitted to enjoy long the conversation of the devout inhabitants of those parts, who, according to the expression of St. Gregory Nazianzen, lived only to God. His enemies having set a price upon his head, the wildernesses were ransacked by soldiers in quest of him, and the monks persecuted, who were determined rather to sufler death than to discover where he lay concealed The saint, apprehensive of their suffering on his account, left them, and retired to a more remote and solitary place, where he had scarce air to breathe in, and saw none but the person that supplied him with necessaries and brought him his letters, though not without great danger and difficulty.*

Constantius died on the 3d of November, in 361; a prince whose memory will be eternally infamous for his heresy, and persecution of the church, his dissimulation, levity, and inconstancy, his weakness of mind, and the treacherous murder of all his uncles. The year following, George, the Arian usurper of the see of Alexandria, was massacred by the pagans for his cruelty. Thus was Athanasius delivered from all his chief enemies. Julian the Apostate, on coming to the empire, granted all the bishops who had been banished by Constantius the liberty to return to their respective churches; not out of any good-will he bore them, but with a view, as his own historian writes, to increase their divisions by this license, and lessen his fears for their uniting against him: also to reflect an odium on the memory and proceedings of his predecessor. Most of the orthodox bishops took their advantage of this permission; and the usurper of the see of Alexandria being massacred by the pagans in July, 362, our saint returned to his flock in August, after an absence of above six years. His entrance was a kind of triumph of the Catholic faith over its enemies, and the citizens hereupon drove the Arians out of all the churches.

In 359, the council of Rimini had the weakness so far to yield to the artifices of the Arians, as to omit in the creed the word consubstantial. The prelates were afterwards surprised to see the triumph of the Arians on that account, and were struck with remorse for their unwary condescension. Their fall was owing, not to any error in faith, but to a want of courage and insight into the artifices of the Arians. Nevertheless, Lucifer of Cagliari,† and some other bishops, pretended, by a Pharisaical pride, that the lapsed, notwithstanding their repentance, could no longer be admitted by the church to communion in the rank of bishops or priests. St. Athanasius, on the contrary, being filled with the spirit of tenderness which our divine Redeemer exercised and recommended to be shown towards sincere penitents, condemned this excessive severity: and in 362, assembled a council at Alexandria; at which assisted St. Eusebius of Vercelli, in his return from his banishment in Thebais, St. Asterius of Petra, &c. This synod condemned those who denied the divinity of the Holy Ghost, and decreed that the authors of the Arian heresy should be deposed, and upon their repentance received only to the lay-communion; but that those prelates who had fallen into it only by compulsion, and for a short time, should, upon their repentance, retain their sees. This decision was adopted in Macedonia, Achaia, Spain, Gaul, &c., and approved at Rome.11 For we learn from St. Hilary, that Liberius, who died in 366, had established this disciple in Italy, and we have his letter to the Catholic bishops of that country, in which he approves what had been regulated in this regard in Achaia and Egypt, and exhorts them to exert their zeal against the authors of their fault, in proportion to the grief they felt for having committed it.12

Theodoret says that the priests of the idols complained to Julian, that, if Athanasius was suffered to remain in Alexandria, there would not remain one adorer of the gods in that city. Julian, having received this advice, answered their complaint, telling them, that, though he had allowed the Galileans (his name of derision for Christians) to return to their own country, he had not given them leave to enter on the possession of their churches. And that Athanasius, in particular, who had been banished by the orders of several emperors, ought not to have done this: he therefore ordered him immediately to leave the city on the receipt of his letter, under the penalty of a severer punishment. He even dispatched a messenger to kill him. The saint comforted his flock, and having recommended them to the ablest of his friends, with an assurance that this storm would soon blow over, embarked in a boat on the river for Thebais. He who had orders to kill him, hearing that he was fled, sailed after him with great expedition. The saint having timely notice sent him of it, was advised by those that accompanied him to turn aside into the deserts that bordered on the Nile. But St. Athanasius ordered them to tack about, and fall down the river towards Alexandria; “to show,” said he, “that our protector is more powerful than our persecutor.” Meeting the pursuivant, he asked them whether they had seen Athanasius as they came down the river, and was answered that he was not far off, and that if they made haste, they would quickly come up with him. Upon this the assassin continued the pursuit, while St. Athanasius got safe and unsuspected to Alexandria, where he lay hid for some time. But upon a fresh order coming from Julian for his death, he withdrew into the deserts of Thebais, going from place to place to avoid falling into the hands of his enemy. St. Theodorus, of Tabenna, being come to visit him, while at Antinoë, with St. Pammon, put an end to his apprehensions on this score, by assuring him, on a revelation God had favored him with, that Julian had just then expired in Persia, where he was killed on the 27th of June, in 363. The holy hermit acquainted him also that the reign of his Christian successor would be very short. This was Jovian, who being chosen emperor, refused to accept that dignity till the army had declared for the Christian religion He was no sooner placed upon the throne but he wrote to St. Athanasius cancelling the sentence of his banishment, and praying him to resume the government of his church, adding high commendations of his virtue and unshaken constancy. St. Athanasius waited not for the emperor’s orders to quit his retreat, but on being apprized, as before related, of the death of his persecutor, appeared on a sudden, and resumed his usual functions in the midst of his people, who were joyfully surprised at the sight of him. The emperor, well knowing that he was the chief person that had stood up in defence of the Christian faith, besought him, by a second letter, to send him a full account in writing of its doctrines, and some rules for his conduct and behavior in what regarded the affairs of the church. St. Athanasius called a synod of learned bishops, and returned an answer in their name; recommending, that he should hold inviolable the doctrine explained in the council of Nice, this being the faith of the apostles, which had been preached in all ages, and was generally professed throughout the whole Christian world, “some few excepted,” says he, “who embrace the opinions of Arius.” The Arians attempted in vain to alter his favorable dispositions towards the saint by renewing their old calumnies. Not satisfied with his instructions by letters, he desired to see him; and the holy bishop was received by him at Antioch with all possible tokens of affection and esteem; but after giving him holy advice, he hastened back to Alexandria. The good emperor Jovian reigned only eight months, dying on the 17th of February, in 364. Valentinian, his successor, chose to reside in the West, and making his brother Valens partner in the empire, assigned to him the East. Valens was inclined to Arianism, and openly declared in favor of it, in 367, when he received baptism from the hands of Eudoxius, bishop of the Arians, at Constantinople. The same year he published an edict for the banishment of all those bishops who had been deprived of their sees by Constantius. Theodoret says this was the fifth time that St. Athanasius had been driven from his church. He had been employed in visiting the churches, monasteries, and deserts of Egypt. Upon the news of this new tempest, the people of Alexandria rose in tumults, demanding of the governor of the province that they might be allowed to enjoy their bishop, and he promised to write to the emperor. Saint Athanasius, seeing the sedition appeased, stole privately out of the town, and hid himself in the country in the vault in which his father was interred, where he lay four months, according to Sozomen. The very night after he withdrew, the governor and the general of the troops took possession of the church in which he usually performed his functions; but were not able to find him. As soon as his departure was known, the city was filled with lamentation, the people vehemently calling on the governor for the return of their pastor. The fear of a sedition moved Valens at length to grant them that satisfaction, and to write to Alexandria that he might abide there in peace, in the free possession of the churches. In 369, the holy patriarch convened at Alexandria a council of ninety bishops, in whose name he wrote to the bishops of Africa to beware of any surprise from those who were for preferring the decrees of the council of Rimini to those of Nice.

The continued scenes of perfidy, dissimulation, and malice which the history of Arianism exhibits to our view, amaze and fill us with horror. Such superlative impiety and hypocrisy would have seemed incredible, had not the facts been attested by St. Athanasius himself, and by all the historians of that age. They were likewise of so public a nature, having been performed before the eyes of the whole world, or proved by ocular demonstration in the Arians’ own synods, that St. Athanasius could never have inserted them in his apology, addressed to these very persons and to the whole world, could any circumstances have been disproved, or even called in question. By such base arts and crimes did the Arian blasphemy spread itself, like a spark of fire set to a train of gunpowder; and, being supported by the whole power of a crafty and proud emperor, seemed to threaten destruction to the church of Christ, had it not been built on foundations which, according to the promises of Him who laid them, all the power of hell shall never be able to shake. During more than three hundred years it had stood the most violent assaults of the most cruel and powerful persecutors, who had bent the whole power of the empire to extirpate, if it had been possible, the Christian name. But the more it was depressed the more it grew and flourished, and the blood of martyrs was a seed which pushed forth and multiplied with such a wonderful increase, as to extend its shoots into every part of the then known world, and to fill every province and every rank of men in the Roman empire. By the conversion of the emperors themselves, it appeared triumphant over all the efforts of hell. But the implacable enemy of man’s salvation did not desist in his attacks. His restless envy and malice grew more outrageous by his defeats; and shifting his ground, he stirred up his instruments within the bowels of the church itself, and excited against it a storm, in which hell seemed to vomit out all its poison, and unite all the efforts of its malice. But these vain struggles again terminated in the most glorious triumph of the church. In those perilous times, God raised up many holy pastors, whom he animated with his spirit, and strengthened in the defence of his truth. Among these St. Athanasius was the most illustrious champion. By his undaunted courage, and unparalleled greatness of soul under the most violent persecutions, he merited a crown equal to that of the most glorious martyrs: by his erudition, eloquence, and writings he holds an illustrious place among the principal doctors of the church; and by the example of his virtue, by which he rivalled the most renowned anchorets of the deserts, and the most holy confessors, he stemmed the torrent of scandal and iniquity which threatened to bear down all before it.

St. Gregory Nazianzen gives the following portrait of his virtues in private life. “He was most humble and lowly in mind, as his virtue was most sublime and inimitable. He was most courteous to all, and every one had easy access to him; he was meek, gentle, compassionate, amiable in his discourse, but much more so in his life; of an angelical disposition; mild in his reproofs, and instructive in his commendations; in both which he observed such even measures, that his reproof spoke the kindness of a father, and his commendation the authority of a master; and neither was his indulgence over tender, nor his severity harsh. His life supplied the place of sermons, and his sermons prevented correction. In him all ranks might find enough to admire, and enough to imitate; one might commend his unwearied austerity in fasting and prayer; another his perseverance in watchings and the divine praises; a third his admirable care of the poor; a fourth his courage in checking the injustice of the rich, or his condescension to the humble.” Thus St. Gregory Nazianzen,13 who says he was a loadstone to dissenters, drawing them to his opinion, unless hardened in malice; and always at least raising in them a secret reverence and veneration for his person; but that he was an adamant to his persecutors; no more capable of impressions against justice, than a rock of marble is of yielding to any slight touch. After innumerable combats, and as many great victories, this glorious saint, having governed the church of Alexandria forty-six years, was called to a life exempt from labor and suffering, on the 2d of May, on a Thursday, according to the Oriental Chronicle of the Copthes, in the year 373, as is clear from the same author, St. Proterius, and St. Jerom; not in 371, as Socrates mistakes.* St. Gregory Nazianzen thus describes his death: “He ended his life in a holy old age, and went to keep company with his fathers, the patriarchs, prophets, apostles, and martyrs, who had fought valiantly for the truth, as he had done: and to comprise his epitaph in few words, he departed this life with far greater honor and glory than what he had received in his more than triumphant entries into Alexandria, when he returned from his banishments: so much was his death lamented by all good men; and the immortal glory of his name remained imprinted in their hearts.” He desires the saint “to look down upon him from heaven, to favor and assist him in the government of his flock, and to preserve it in the true faith: and if, for the sins of the world, heretics were to prevail against it, to deliver him from these evils and to bring him, by his intercession, to enjoy God in his company.”

The humility, modesty, and charity of this great saint; his invincible meekness towards his enemies, who were the most implacable and basest of men, and the heroic fortitude, patience, and zeal, by which he triumphed over the persecutions of almost the whole world confederated against him, and of four emperors, Constantine, Constantius, Julian, and Valens, three of whom employed wiles, stratagems, hypocrisy, and sometimes open force to destroy him: these, I say, and all other eminent virtues, have rendered his name venerable in the church to the latest ages, which he ceases not to instruct and edify by his writings.†

These and other virtues, Saint Athanasius learned and practised in the most heroic degree, by studying them devoutly and assiduously in the sacred life, and in the divine heart of Jesus. And in the simplicity of faith he adored the incomprehensible greatness of the Divinity, his infinite wisdom, justice, and sanctity, with the boundless treasures of his love and mercy, in the mystery of his adorable Incarnation. If we have a holy ambition to improve ourselves in this saving knowledge, in this most sublime and truly divine science, which will not only enlighten our understanding, but also reform all the affections of our hearts, and be in us a source of unspeakable peace, joy, love, light, and happiness, we must study in the same school. We must become zealous lovers and adorers of our most amiable Redeemer; we must meditate daily on his admirable life, penetrating into the unfathomed abyss of his love, and his perfect sentiments of humility, meekness, and every virtue in all his actions, and join our homages with those which he paid in his divine heart, and still continues to offer to his Father: we must sacrifice to him our affections in transports of joy and fervor, adoring, praising, loving, and thanking him, and must continually beg his mercy and grace, that we may be replenished with his spirit of humility and every virtue; and, above all, that his love may take absolute possession of our hearts, and of all our faculties and powers. “The Son of God,” says St. Athanasius, “took upon him our poverty and miseries, that he might impart to us a share of his riches. His sufferings will render us one day impassible, and his death immortal. His tears will be our joy, his burial our resurrection, and his baptism is our sanctification, according to what he says in his gospel: For them I sanctify myself, that they also may be made holy in fruits.”

MAY 3 — THE INVENTION OR DISCOVERY OF THE HOLY CROSS

From St. Cyril of Jerusalem, cat. 10; St. Paulinus, ep. 31, p. 193; St. Sulpicius Severus, St. Ambrose, St. Chrysostom, Rufinus, Theodoret, Socrates, and Sozomen. See Tillemont. t. 7, p. 6, on St. Helena.

A. D. 326.

GOD having restored peace to his church, by exalting Constantine the Great to the imperial throne, that pious prince, who had triumphed over his enemies by the miraculous power of the cross, was very desirous of expressing his veneration for the holy places which had been honored and sanctified by the presence and sufferings of our blessed Redeemer on earth. He accordingly came to a resolution to build a magnificent church in the city of Jerusalem, as the place which had been most honored by the presence, the instructions and miracles, of the Son of God. St. Helena, the emperor’s mother, out of a desire of visiting the holy places there, undertook a journey into Palestine in 326, though at that time near eighty years of age: and on her arrival at Jerusalem, was inspired with a great desire to find the identical cross on which Christ had suffered for our sins. But there was no mark or tradition, even among the Christians, where it lay. The heathens, out of an aversion to Christianity, had done what they could to conceal the place where our Saviour was buried. They had heaped upon it a great quantity of stones and rubbish, besides building a temple to Venus; that those who came thither to adore him, might seem to pay their worship to a marble idol representing this false deity. They had moreover erected a statue of Jupiter in the place where our Saviour rose from the dead, as we are informed by St. Jerom; which figure continued there from the emperor Adrian’s time to Constantine’s: which precautions of the persecutors show the veneration which Christians paid from the beginning to the instruments of our Redemption. Helena, being willing to spare no pains to compass her pious design, consulted all people at Jerusalem and near it, whom she thought likely to assist her in finding out the cross; and was credibly informed, that if she could find out the sepulchre, she would likewise find the instruments of the punishment; it being always the custom among the Jews to make a great hole near the place where the body of the criminal was buried, and to throw into it whatever belonged to his execution; looking upon all these things as detestable objects, and which for that reason ought to be removed out of sight. The pious empress therefore ordered the profane buildings to be pulled down, the statues to be broken in pieces, and the rubbish to be removed; and upon digging to a great depth, they discovered the holy sepulchre, and near it three crosses, also the nails which had pierced our Saviour’s body, and the title which had been fixed to his cross. By this discovery, they understood that one of the three crosses was that which they were in quest of, and that the other two belonged to the two malefactors between whom our Saviour had been crucified. But, whereas the title was found separate from the cross, a difficulty remained to distinguish which of the three was that on which our Divine Redeemer consummated his sacrifice for the salvation of the world. In this perplexity the holy bishop Macarius, knowing that one of the principal ladies of the city lay extremely ill, suggested to the empress to cause the three crosses to be carried to the sick person, not doubting but God would discover which was the cross they sought for. This being done, St. Macarius prayed that God would have regard to their faith, and after his prayer, applied the crosses singly to the patient, who was immediately and perfectly recovered by the touch of one of the three crosses, the other two having been tried without effect.1 St. Helena, full of joy for having found the treasure which she had so earnestly sought and so highly esteemed, built a church on the spot, and lodged it there with great veneration, having provided an extraordinary rich case for it. She afterwards carried part of it to the emperor Constantine, then at Constantinople, who received it with great veneration;* another part she sent or rather carried to Rome, to be placed in the church which she built there, called Of the Holy Cross of Jerusalem, where it remains to this day. The discovery of the cross must have happened about the month of May, or early in the spring. For St. Helena went the same year to Constantinople, and from thence to Rome, where she died in the arms of her son, on the 18th of August, 326, as Pagi demonstrates, from Eusebius and Gothefridus. The title was sent by St. Helena, to the same church in Rome, and reposited on the top of an arch, where it was found in a case of lead, in 1492, as may be read at length in Bozius.2 The inscription in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, is in red letters, and the wood was whitened. Thus it was in 1492; but these colors are since faded. Also the words Jesus and Judæorum are eaten away. The board is nine, but must have been twelve inches long.3*

The main part of the cross St. Helena enclosed in a silver shrine and committed it to the care of St. Macarius, that it might be delivered down to posterity as an object of veneration. It was accordingly kept with singular care and respect in the magnificent church which she and her son built in Jerusalem. See the lives of St. Cyril of Jerusalem, St. Porphyrius of Gaza, &c. St. Paulinus, in his epistle to Severus,4 relates that though chips were almost daily cut off from it and given to devout persons, yet the sacred wood suffered thereby no diminution. It is affirmed by St. Cyril of Jerusalem,5 twenty-five years after the discovery, that pieces of the cross were spread all over the earth: he compares this wonder to the miraculous feeding of five thousand men, as recorded in the gospel. Read Gretzer On the Cross. The stately church which Constantine the Great built at Jerusalem, the rich ornaments of which are mentioned by Eusebius,6 was called The Basilic of the Holy Cross, because it possessed this precious treasure; the keeper of which was always a venerable priest. It was shown publicly to the people at Easter. The same was also called the church of the sepulchre, or of the resurrection: though this was properly only the title of the holy chapel in it, which stood over the sepulchre or cavern in which our Saviour was buried, which was in the garden adjoining to Mount Calvary: so that this great church covered the sepulchre, and was extended so far on Mount Calvary as also to include the rock Golgotha, and the very place where the cross of Christ stood at his crucifixion.* This extensive building was enclosed within the walls of Jerusalem, when that city was rebuilt. Constantine also built a church upon Mount Olivet, over the spot from which our Saviour ascended into heaven. This place was venerated by Christians from the very time of his death, as much as the fear of their enemies would permit. And this may account for the industry of the pagans in filling up the sepulchre or cavern with stones, heaping rubbish over it to a considerable height, and setting up the most infamous of their idols over it, that the Christians might seem to worship a Venus, when they came hither to pay their homage to Jesus Christ. We find the Festival of the Invention, or the discovery of the Cross, solemnized in the Latin church ever since the fifth or sixth century.† The finding of the cross by St. Helena happened in the year of our Lord 326, in the twenty-first year of Constantine’s reign, the thirteenth of the pontificate of Sylvester, and the first after the council of Nice.* The feast of the Exaltation of the Cross was kept in May, from the time that it was triumphantly placed by St. Helena in the church at Jerusalem, upon its discovery in 326, which continued to the year 335, when the great church of the Resurrection was built at Jerusalem by the orders of Constantine the Great, and dedicated on the 13th of September that year, as St. Sophronius, (Or. de Exalt. S. Crucis in Bibl. Patr. Colon. t. 7,) Nicephorus, and the Typic of St. Sabas mention. The cross was exalted or set up in that church the day following, which was Sunday. Hence both the Greeks and Latins kept this feast on the 14th of September; and St. Chrysostom’s death is related to have happened on this festival. After the recovery of the cross by Heraclius, this festival began to be kept in the Eastern church with greater solemnity and a fast. At Jerusalem the cross was shown to the people to be adored on Easter Monday, and also in the middle of Lent, as we learn from St. Sophronius, St. Paulinus, &c. In the Latin church, this was celebrated on the 3d of May; whether this was the day of the Discovery of the Cross by St. Helena, or of Constantine’s vision or victory, or of the dedication of the church of the Holy Cross at Rome, is uncertain.

The cross was chosen by our dear Redeemer to be the glorious instrument of his victory and triumph over the devil and sin; and by his death thereon he has purchased for us redemption, grace, and glory. The cross is his holy standard, under which all his followers fight his battles; and, according to the holy fathers, will be borne before him in a triumphant manner, when he shall come in glory to judge the world. The church professes a very high regard and veneration for this mysterious and salutary sign, giving it an honorable place in her churches, making frequent use of it in her holy offices, in the administration of the sacraments, and on many other occasions: in which particulars she imitates the earliest and purest ages of Christianity.7 It is the remark of St. Jerom, “that if the ark was held in such high veneration among the Jews, how much more ought the Christians to respect the wood of the cross, whereon our Saviour offered himself a bleeding victim for our sins?” By devoutly respecting the sign of the cross, we profess our faith in Christ, who was crucified for us; we excite our hope in his merits, kindle his love in our breasts, renew the remembrance of his sacred death, and inflame our meditations on his adorable passion, in which we learn all virtue and all spiritual knowledge. What obedience are we here taught! seeing Christ himself learned obedience from these things which he suffered.8 What love of God and our neighbor! seeing Jesus has sprinkled his cross with his blood to seal his new alliance of charity, and to inculcate his own law and a new commandment. What patience do we here learn! What meekness and humility! the two things which Jesus commands us particularly to learn of him. And it is on the cross and in his sacred passion that he has principally set us the most moving example, and pressed upon us the most endearing precepts of these virtues. Whence, assiduous meditation on the sufferings of Christ, is the great school of Christian perfection. All the saints found in it their comfort and their joy; in it they continually feasted their souls with the most sweet fruits of love and devotion; in it they learned to die perfectly to themselves and entered into the sentiments of Christ crucified:9 here they stirred up their souls to perfect compunction; and placing themselves in spirit under the cross of their divine Redeemer, they offered their tears and earnest supplications to the Father, through the Son, who made himself our sacrifice on this tree: I have seated myself under the shade of him whom I desired, and his fruit was sweet to my palate.10 Where did St. Bernard learn his eminent spirit of devotion but in the meditation on Christ’s sufferings? Where did the glorious St. Austin glean his spiritual science but, as he himself tells us, in the wounds of his Redeemer? It was in them that the admirable St. Francis conceived his seraphic ardors. St. Thomas Aquinas studied his sacred science and virtue in the book of the cross, and always had recourse to God at the foot of the crucifix. “St. Bonaventure seems,” says St. Francis of Sales, “when he writes the spiritual breathings of his heart, all inflamed with love; to have no other paper than the cross, no other pen than the lance, no other ink than what is dipped in the precious blood of Christ. With what feeling sentiments did he cry out: It is good always to abide in spirit before the cross! Let us make to ourselves three tabernacles in the wounds of our crucified Redeemer, one in his feet, another in his hands, a third in his sacred side. Here will I rest; here will I watch; here will I read; here will I converse.”11 St. Paul, who was very learned, esteemed all his other science as nothing, and looked on the knowledge of Jesus Christ crucified as his only learning. I judged not myself to know any thing among you but Jesus Christ, and him crucified.12 By being instructed in this mystery, and having the sentiments of Christ crucified deeply impressed upon his heart, he knew all that he wished to know: it was his only solicitude and desire daily to improve himself in this one science.* The same apostle, in the transport of his ardent love of the cross, cried out: God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.13 To glory in a thing is to love it, to esteem it, to place in it our greatness and happiness. “Every one glories in those things in which he places his greatness,” as St. Thomas says.—The sacred passion of Christ is the source of all our happiness and good, and the perfect model and school of all virtue. If it be the tender object of our devotion, if we love, and desire always to meditate on our Redeemer crucified for us, the sacred instrument of his triumph, the ensign and trophy of his precious victory, and the principal emblem of his sufferings which it represents to us, and strongly paints before our eyes, must be always dear and most amiable to us.

MAY 3 — ST. ALEXANDER, POPE, M

He succeeded St. Evaristus in 109, and held the holy see ten years, but not complete. He died in 119, and is ranked among the martyrs in the canon of the mass. Notwithstanding the silence of St. Irenæus, we also find him styled a martyr in the Sacramentary of St. Gregory the Great, in the ancient Calendar of Fronto, and unanimously in other martyrologies which join with him two companions, Eventius and Theodulus, who suffered with him, or at least about the same time of his happy death. The bodies of SS Alexander, Eventius, and Theodulus, were interred on the Nomentan road, but were translated into the church of St. Sabina, which now belongs to a great, convent of Dominican friars. St. Juvenal, the first bishop of Narni, in Umbria, who died in peace about the year 367, is commemorated in the Roman Breviary on the same day. He is styled a martyr by St Gregory the Great. (Hom. 57, in Evang. and Dia1.1. 4, c. 12.)

MAY 4 — ST. MONICA, WIDOW

From St. Austin’s works, collected by Tillemont, t. 8, p. 455, and Berti,1. de Rebus Gestls S. Aug. Vonetiis. an. 1756, in App. de S. Monicâ.

A. D. 387.

THE church is doubly indebted, under God, to the saint of this day, namely, for the birth, and still more so for the conversion of the great St. Austin; who was more beholden to St. Monica for his spiritual life by grace, than for his corporal life by his birth and education. She was born in 332, in a pious family, and early instructed in the fear of God. She often professed her singular obligations to a virtuous discreet maid-servant, whom her parents intrusted with the education of their children, and who instilled into them maxims of piety, restrained the least sallies of their passions, and by her prudence, words, and example, inspired them with an early sense and love of every duty. She was so strict in regard to her charge, that, besides making them observe great temperance in their meals, she would not allow them to drink even water at any other times, how great thirst soever they might pretend. She used to say: “You are now for drinking water, but when you come to be mistresses of the cellar, water will be despised, but the habit of drinking will stick by you.” Notwithstanding the prudent care of this tutoress, the young Monica contracted insensibly an inclination to wine: and when she was sent by her parents, who were strangers to it, to draw wine for the use of the family, in taking the liquor out with a cup, she would put her lips to it and sip a little. This she did at first, not out of any intemperate desire of liquor, but from mere youth and levity. However, by adding to this little every day a little more, she overcame the original reluctance she had to wine, and drank whole cups of it with pleasure as it came in her way. This was a most dangerous intemperance, though it never proceeded to any considerable excess.* God watched over his servant to correct her of it, and made use of a servant-maid as his instrument who, having observed it in her young mistress by following her into the cellar, words arising one day between them, she reproached her with it, calling her a wine-bibber. This affected Monica in such a manner, that, entering seriously into herself, she acknowledged, condemned, and from that moment entirely corrected her fault. She after this received baptism, from which time she lived always in such a manner that she was an odor of edification to all who knew her.

As soon as marriageable, she was disposed of to one Patricius, a citizen of Tagaste, a man of honor and probity, but an idolater. She obeyed and served him as her master, and labored to gain him to God; though the chief argument she used, whereby to reclaim him from his vices, was the sanctity of her conduct, enforced by an obliging, affectionate behavior, by which she commanded his love, respect, and esteem. She had by him two sons, Austin and Navigius, and one daughter. She tolerated the injuries done by him to her marriage-bed, in such a manner as never to make him the least bitter reproach on that subject. As on the one side he was very good-natured and loving, so, on the other, he was hasty and choleric. Monica never thwarted him by the least action or word while she saw him in anger; but when the fit was over and he was calm, she mildly gave him her reasons, and an account of her actions. When she saw other wives bearing the marks of their husband’s anger on their disfigured faces, and heard them blaming their roughness of temper or debaucheries, she would answer them: “Lay the blame rather on yourselves and your tongues.” Her example alone was a sufficient proof; for, notwithstanding the passionate temper of her husband, it was never known that he ever struck her, or that they had ever, for so much as one day, entertained any domestic dissension; because she bore all his sallies with patience, and in silence, made no other return but that of a greater obsequiousness, and waited an opportunity to make him sensible of his mistake when that was necessary. And as many as followed her advice in this respect towards their husbands, rejoiced in the experience of the comfort and advantages which accrued to them from their patience and complaisance; while those that did not follow it, continued still in their vexations and sufferings. One of the happy fruits Monica reaped from her patience, was her husband’s conversion to Christ; who, thereupon, became chaste, and faithful in all the duties of a good Christian; he died the year after he had been baptized. By mildness she also gained, both to her own interest and to Christ, her froward mother-in-law. Our saint had an excellent talent at making peace among neighbors, when any falling out had happened among them: on which occasion, such was the energy and the spirit of tender charity with which she delivered herself, that she seemed instructed by her interior Master in what she said. It was her great delight to serve the poor, supplying their wants with cheerfulness and liberality. She assisted daily at the holy oblation of the altar, and never failed to go to church twice a day, morning and night, to assist at public prayer, and the dispensation of the divine word, having eternity always in her thought. She studied to imitate the actions of the saints, who were in possession of immortal bliss: and, full, of confidence in their intercession, she often visited the tombs of the martyrs.1 She well knew that, in matters relating to religion and a Christian life, nothing should be looked upon as trifling and insignificant: and that the least actions become great when done for God, and with great fervor. Her exercises of piety did not hinder her attention in watching over the education of her children, in which God Almighty gave her great occasion of merit and suffering, particularly in Austin, that he might more amply crown her care in the end. He was born in November, 354. As he grew up, she endeavored continually to instil into him sentiments of piety; but fell into an unperceived passion and immoderate desire that he should excel in learning; though she flattered herself that she regarded this only an a means whereof he might one day make a good use to the honor of God. Her husband earnestly desired the same thing, because he looked upon it as the greatest step whereby his son could raise himself in the world. In his infancy she had ranked him among the catechumens; and once in an illness, all things were prepared for his baptism, but it was deferred.

Patricius died about the year 371. Austin, who was then seventeen years of age, still continued his studies at Carthage, where, in 373, he was seduced by the Manichees, and drawn into that heresy.2 Monica, being informed of his misfortune, grieved more bitterly for his spiritual death than worldly mothers do when they see their children carried to their graves; nor would she suffer him to live under the same roof with her, or to eat at the same table. “You have heard her vows,” says St. Austin, addressing himself to God, “and you have not despised her tears; for she shed torrents in your presence, in all places where she offered to you her prayer.” His divine Majesty was pleased to give her an assurance that she was heard, by a dream, in which she seemed to herself standing on a rule of wood, very sorrowful; and that a young man, shining with light, asked her the cause of her grief, and bade her dry up her tears, saying: “Your son is with you.” Then casting her eyes towards the place he pointed at, she saw Austin standing on the rule with her. She told her son this dream, and upon his inferring from it that she should come over to his sentiments in matters of religion: “No,” said she, “it was not told me that I was with you, but that you were with me.” This her quick answer made a great impression on her son, who after his conversion considered it as a divine admonition. She was so much comforted by it, that she again permitted him to eat and live with her. This happened about the end of the year 377; almost nine years before his conversion, in August, 386. During all this time the holy widow continued her prayers for his conversion, and her sighs and tears, which nothing but his baptism at Milan could dry up. She engaged virtuous and learned prelates to speak to him. One who had himself been brought up a Manichee, and had been converted by reading their own books, excused himself, saying: “The heart of the youth was yet too indocile, but that God’s time would come.” She urged him with the greater importunity: at last the good old bishop answered her: “Go: continue to do as you do; it is impossible that a child of such tears should perish:” which words she received as an oracle from heaven. Austin was twenty-nine years old when he determined to go to Rome, with a view to teach rhetoric. She endeavored to divert him from such a design, fearing it might delay his conversion, and followed him to the seaside, resolving either to bring him back, or to bear him company into Italy. He feigned he had no intention to go, that he might rid himself of her importunity. But while she passed the night in a chapel of St. Cyprian, in the neighborhood, he secretly set out. “I deceived her with a lie,” says St. Austin, “while she was weeping and praying for me: and what did she ask of you, my God, but that you would not suffer me to sail away? But you graciously heard her man desire, namely, that I might be engaged in your service, and refused to grant what she asked then, in order to give what she always asked.” Next morning, coming to the seaside and finding him gone, she was seized with a grief not to be expressed. God, by this extreme affliction, would punish her too human tenderness; and his wisdom suffered her son to be carried by his passions to the place where ho had decreed to heal them.

Upon his arrival at Rome, he fell dangerously sick; and he attributes his recovery to the prayers of his mother, though she did not then know his situation: out of a favorable regard to whose petitions God would not cut him off in his impenitence. From Rome he went to teach rhetoric at Milan, in 384, and being convinced by St. Ambrose of the errors of his sect, renounced that heresy, yet without being fixed in the truth; continuing his search after it in a fluctuating state of mind. Monica followed him, and in a great storm at sea comforted the sailors, assuring them, from a vision, that they would certainly reach the port. Finding him at Milan, she learned from his own mouth that he was no longer a Manichee: but she redoubled her tears and prayers to God to obtain his thorough conversion. She respected St. Ambrose as the spiritual physician of his soul; and was herself wonderfully delighted with hearing his solid and beautiful discourses. St. Ambrose forbid at Milan the custom of carrying bread and wine to the tombs of the martyrs; and Monica, going thither with her offerings, was stopped by the porter: and being informed that the custom had been forbid, she was more ready to condemn the practice in the simplicity of obedience, than to inquire into the reasons of the prohibition. She therefore was content to carry to those holy places a heart full of pure and religious dispositions, reserving her alms for other occasions. To satisfy her scruple, St. Austin consulted St. Ambrose on the fast of the Saturday. She had been used to keep fast on that day, according to the custom of the church of Tagaste, which was also that of Rome, but at Milan this fast was not observed. She was therefore in doubt what she ought to do. The answer of St. Ambrose, taken into the canon law, was: “When I am here, I do not fast on the Saturday; but I fast when I am in Rome; do you the same, and follow always the custom and discipline of the churches where you are:” which precept she obeyed. She had the joy to see St. Austin perfectly converted in August, 386. She had contrived a good match for him, which might be a bar against any relapse into his former disorders, but understood from him, with great satisfaction, that he was resolved to embrace a state of perpetual continency. When the vacation of the schools, during the vintage, came on, St. Austin retired with his friends to a country house. His mother accompanied them, and had a great share in their learned entertainments; in which she, by her natural genius and constant conversation with God, showed an extraordinary penetration and judgment. St. Austin has preserved many of her ingenious and pious reflections; the first he sometimes compares with the finest strokes of Tully and Hortensius, in his books, On Order, and in that On a Happy Life.

St. Austin was baptized at Easter, in 387, with some of his friends, with whom he continued to live some time. St. Monica took as much care of them all as if they had been her children; and paid them all a deference as if each of them had been her father. They all set out together for Africa; but lost St. Monica on the road, who fell sick and died at Ostia, where they were to embark. Before her illness, conversing there with her son Austin concerning eternal happiness, and the contempt of this world, she said to him: “Son, there is nothing now in this life that affords me any delight. What have I to do here any longer, or why I am here, I know not: all my hopes in this world being now at an end. The only thing for which I desired to live was that I might see you a Catholic and child of heaven. God has done much more, in that I see you now despising all earthly felicity and entirely devoted to his service. What further business then have here?” Another day, entertaining herself with her friends in the same place, she spoke so well on the happiness of death, as much surprised them and being asked if she was not afraid to be buried in a place so far from her own country, she answered: “Nothing is far off from God. Neither do I need to fear that God will not find my body to raise it with the rest.” Five days after this she was seized with a fever; and one day, being worse than ordinary, she swooned away, and was for a little while insensible. Her two sons ran to her. When she came to herself, awaking as it were out of a profound sleep, she said to them: “Here you shall bury your mother.” Austin stood silent; Navigius wished that she might not die abroad, but in her own county: but she, checking him with her eyes, said to them: “Lay this body anywhere; be not concerned about that. The only thing I ask of you both is, that you make remembrance of me at the altar of the Lord wheresoever you are.”* Her distemper growing stronger upon her, she suffered much; and on the ninth day of her illness, in the fifty-sixth year of her age, and of our Lord 387, that religious and pious soul was loosed from the body. St. Austin, who was then thirty-three years of age, closed her eyes; and though his grief was extreme, restrained his tears and those of his son Adeodatus, thinking that weeping did not become the funeral of her, who neither died miserably, nor at all as to her principal and better part. The corpse was carried to the church, and when it was set down by the grave, according to the custom of the place, the sacrifice of our ransom was offered for her. St. Austin had hitherto held in his tears; but calling to mind, when alone, her holy and pious conversation towards God, and her tender and affectionate love and care of her children, of which she was so suddenly deprived, he gave free scope to his tears. He adds: “If any one think it a sin that I thus wept for my mother some small part of an hour; and a mother who many years had wept for me, that I might live to thy eyes, O Lord: let him not deride me for it; but rather, if his charity be great, let him weep also for my sins before thee.” He prays for her in his confessions, and beseeches God to inspire all who shall read his book to remember at the altar Monica and Patricius. He says: “I pray for the sins of my mother: hear me by the remedy of our wounds, who hung on the cross, and sitting on the right hand, intercedes for us. I know she showed mercy, and forgave from her heart all debtors: forgive her also her debts.”† Her body was translated from Ostia to Rome, in 1430, under pope Martin V., and remains there in the church of St. Austin.3 The history of this translation of the relics of St. Monica to Rome, with an account of several miraculous cures with which it was honored, is given by pope Martin V. himself.4 Some pretend this to be the body of St. Prima and that the remains of St. Monica are kept at Arouaise, a convent of regular canons near Bapaume, in Hainault, whence the head was translated to the church of St. Amatus in Douay.‡ But the latter seems to be the body of St. Prima, whom Walter, who conveyed this treasure from Ostia into the Low Countries, in 1162, imagined to be the same person with St. Monica; though her body remained long after at Ostia.

St. Monica, by her earnestness to gain her son to God, is the model of good mothers. She was persuaded that he did not live; nay, that his state was infinitely more miserable than if he had had no existence, so long as he lived not to him who made him, and who was his only happiness, and his last end, as she proved to him with admirable penetration, from the principles of sound philosophy, in a conference with him and his friends soon after his conversion; of which, to the honor of her memory, he has preserved us a part in one of his works. Her perseverance in tears and prayers for his conversion could not fail of success, being supported by fervor, perfect purity of intention, and sanctity of life, and accompanied with all prudent measures which it was in her power to take for bringing him to his duty. In vain some mothers flatter themselves that by their long devotions they satisfy this difficult obligation: they are bound also to watch continually over their children, to give and procure them constant instructions, set before them good example, and to use, when necessary, reprimands and correction, which must be tempered with mildness and affection, be seasonably employed at the times when likely to take best effect, and must always be free from the least motion or appearance of passion. This condition can only be observed by those who have obtained an entire mastery over themselves. Pride and self-love are always impatient, and sure to show themselves on such occasions: and wherever they appear, instead of healing a heart already disordered, they usually inflame and increase the evil. Monica converted Patricius, and made a deep impression upon the heart of Austin in the midst of his disorders, because her remonstrances were free from this fault. If the instructions and watchfulness of a St. Monica could not preserve Austin from the snares of bad company, what precautions are not parents bound to take to keep unexperienced youth from the possibility of falling upon this most fatal rock!

MAY 4 — ST. GODARD, BISHOP OF HILDESHEIM, C

He was a native of Bavaria, and abbot of Altaich, in that country, and reformed likewise the abbeys of Hersfeld, in Hesse, of Tergensee, in the diocese of Frisinguen, and of Chremsmunster, in that of Passaw. In 1021, the episcopal chair of Hildesheim falling vacant by the death of St. Bernward, St. Godard was compelled by St. Henry to take upon him that pastoral charge. The relief of the poor, both spiritual and temporal, was everywhere the first object of his attention. He died on the 4th of May, 1038, and was canonized by Innocent II. in 1131. Many places in Germany acknowledge him patron, and several bear his name. See his life by Wolfhert, his disciple, in Henschenius, p. 501, and in Mabillon: and more at large, with long histories of miracles, among the writers of the history of the most illustrious house of Brunswick-Hanover, t. 2, p. 483. Several very devout epistles of St. Godard, or Godehard, are given us by Dom. Pez, in his Codex Diplomatico-Historico-Epistolaris, p. 133, &c.

MAY 5 — ST. PIUS V., POPE, C

The two original most authentic lives of St. Pius V. are that written by Jerom Catena, secretary to the Cardinal of Alexandria, and consultor to several congregations in Rome, In Italian, highly approved by Sextus V., the other in Latin, by Ant. Gabutio, superior of the Regular Clerks of St. Paul, much commended by Clement VIII. The titles of these two works are, Hieron. Catena Vita del gloriosissimo Papa Pio V., and Raccolta di Littere di Papa Pio V. Gabutii de Vitâ Pii V. libri 6. Bzovius in his annals on Pius V adds to this latter several particulars. See his Pius V., also Archangelo Caraccio, Brevis Narratio Gestorum Pii V. Minorelli, Ord. Prædic. Vita S. Pii V. Romæ. 1712. Apostolicarum Pii Quinti Epistolaruin libri 5, operâ Fr. Gaubau. Ant. 1649. Paul. Alex. Maffei, Vita di Pio V. Feuillet, Vie du Pape Pie V. Galesini Translatio Corporis Pii V. a Sixto V. celebrata. Agatio di Somma, whose Italian life of this saint was translated into French by Dom. Felibien in 1672. Touron, b. 28, t. 4, p. 306, and the remarks of Henschenius, ad 5 Maij, t. 1, p. 617.

A. D. 1572.

MICHAEL GHISLERI, known afterwards by the name of Pius V., was born at Bosco, a little town in the diocese of Tortona, on the 27th of January, 1504. He was descended of a noble Bolognese family, but considerably reduced in its splendor and fortunes. In his tender years the most perfect maxims of piety were instilled into him, and he never swerved in the least from those principles during the whole course of his life. He studied grammar under the care of the Dominican friars at Voghera; and giving himself up entirely to the most fervent exercises of religion, took the habit of that order when he was only fifteen years of age. He was sensible that faint and languishing endeavors never deserve to find the inestimable treasure of true virtue, which they undervalue; they are sure to lose ground, and at length to yield under the repeated assaults of the enemy: whereas fervor breaks down all obstacles in the pursuit of perfection, as so many shadows, and courageously marches on, reckoning all labors the sweetest pleasures, and esteeming as nothing whatever leads not to this great end. It was the young novice’s holy ambition to surpass all others in humility, modesty, and the exercises of mortification, obedience, and devotion. In every thing he did, he set no bounds to the ardor of his desires to please God, and accomplish his holy will in the most perfect manner. Thus all his actions were perfect sacrifices of his heart, and the meanest were enhanced by the fervor of his intention. To his studies he joined assiduous prayer, watching, fasting, and the exercises of penance and charity. After the uninterrupted fatigue of the day, it was his sweet refreshment to pour forth his soul in tears and devout prayer or meditation, for several hours before the altar, or in his cell. Having prepared himself by a long and fervent retreat, he was ordained priest, at Genoa, in 1528. He taught philosophy and divinity sixteen years, and was long employed in instructing the novices, and in forming them to piety, and in governing different houses of his order: in all which offices he labored effectually to revive the spirit of its holy founder. He never accepted of any priory but by compulsion, and with tears. No one would he ever allow to absent himself from the choir, or to go out of the convent without some urgent necessity. Constant devotion and study he called the double breast from which religious persons draw a spiritual nourishment, which maintains in them the love of God and contempt of the world. Though he went often to Milan to hear the confession of the marquis of Guast, governor of the Milanese, he could never be persuaded to buy a cloak to defend him from the rain, saying: “Poor followers of the gospel ought to be content with one tunic.” His journey he performed on foot, in recollection and strict silence, unless he opened his mouth to speak to his companion something on God. Pope Paul IV., in 1556, promoted him to the united bishoprics of Nepi and Sutri, in the ecclesiastical state, notwithstanding the tears he shed in endeavoring most earnestly to decline that dignity. Under his care these dioceses soon assumed a new face. In 1557, he was created cardinal by the same pope, under the title of St. Mary upon the Minerva, though generally known by that of the Alexandrian cardinal, from Alexandria, a city in Lombardy, a few miles distant from the place of his birth. His dignities served to render his humility and other virtues more conspicuous, but produced no alteration in his furniture, table, fasts, or devotions. He was most scrupulously cautious in the choice of his few necessary domestics, admitting none but persons of most exemplary piety, and he treated them as his children rather than as his servants. Pope Paul IV. dying in 1559, he was succeeded by Pius IV., of the family of Medicis, who translated our good cardinal to the bishopric of Mondovi, in Piedmont, a church reduced by the wars to a deplorable and calamitous condition. The saint hastened to his new flock; and by his zealous exhortations and other endeavors, re-established peace and union, reformed abuses, and restored the splendor of that, church. But an order of his holiness recalled him to Rome for the dispatch of certain public affairs of the church. When Pius IV. proposed to the sacred college the promotion of prince Ferdinand of Medicis, only thirteen years old, to the dignity of cardinal, our saint opposed the motion with such vigor, that he made himself admired by the whole consistory for his zeal and prudence. The emperor Maximilian II. wrote to pope Pius IV. to desire that priests might be allowed to marry, as a means that might facilitate the return of the modern sectaries to the communion of the church. The whole sacred college saw the inconveniences of such an abolition of the most holy and ancient canons; but none spoke more vigorously against it than our saint. Though charity will allow all condescension that is possible, here it seemed very unseasonable, on many accounts, to abandon so sacred a spiritual law; and this in favor of men who had shown no disposition towards a reconciliation with the Catholic church, except she would give up many other points, not only of discipline, but also of her faith and doctrine.

Pope Pius IV., after a tedious illness, expired in the arms of St. Charles Borromeus, on the 9th of December, 1565, having filled the chair almost six years. St. Charles, when he saw that the pious cardinal Sirlet, who was first proposed, could not be chosen, united the suffrages of the conclave in favor of our saint, testifying an entire confidence in his virtue. All others applauded the choice, except the pope elect; who, having in vain opposed it by tears and entreaties, at length, for fear of resisting the call of God, gave his consent, on the 7th of January, 1566, and took the name of Pius. The largesses usually bestowed by the popes, at their coronation, on the people of Rome, he converted into alms, to avoid the disorders of intemperance, &c., to which they are liable. He accordingly directed the sums usually expended on such occasions, to be distributed among the poor in the hospitals and elsewhere. He, in like manner, sent to the poorer convents in the city the thousand crowns usually employed in an entertainment for the cardinals, ambassadors, and lords who assisted at the ceremony. His first care was to regulate his family in such a manner, that it might be a model of virtue, and he induced the cardinals to do the like in their respective houses. He forbade the public exhibition of the sights of wild beasts, as savoring too much of inhumanity; and published very severe regulations against excesses in taverns, and against detraction committed in public assemblies, and re-established a strict observance and execution of the laws. By rigorous edicts, he banished numbers of lewd women under pain of corporal punishment, if found afterwards within the city: others he confined to an obscure part of Rome, under the same penalty if they were seen elsewhere. He said mass every day, (and usually with tears,) unless hindered by sickness; he made daily two meditations on his knees before a crucifix, and called prayer the comfort and support of a pastor amidst the hurry of affairs. His tenderness for the poor and his charities are not to be expressed: but nothing appeared more admirable in him than his sincere and profound humility. An English Protestant gentleman was converted, by seeing the condescension and affection with which he kissed the ulcers of the feet of a certain poor man. His rigorous fasts and abstemiousness he would scarce ever mitigate, even on account of sickness. He published the catechism, and the decrees of the council of Trent, which he labored strenuously to carry into immediate execution; and made many other useful regulations, extending his solicitude to every part of Christendom, particularly the eastern missions.

He generously assisted the knights of Malta, when they were besieged by the most formidable armies of the Turks, and by his liberalities enabled them to repair their breaches after their victories, and to build the new impregnable city of Valette, in 1566.* The rebellion raised in France under Charles IX. obliged him to exert his vigilance in protecting the city and territory of Avignon against the stratagems of Coligny. He purged the ecclesiastical state of assassins and robbers, but rejected the perfidious proposal of one who offered to invite the chief captain of the robbers to dinner, and then to deliver him up. His severity, which was necessary for the public tranquillity, did not make him forget that mercy, wherever it can be allowed to take place, is to be the favorite inclination of a disciple of Christ. A certain Spaniard had composed a bitter and seditious pasquinade, filled with notorious slanders against his holiness, for which the magistrate had confiscated his estate, and condemned him to death: but the pope granted him a free pardon, with this mild request, that when he should see him fall into any fault, he would admonish him of it. By a bull dated the 1st of October, 1567, he condemned several erroneous propositions ascribed to Michael Baius of Lovain, some of which that doctor denied to have been advanced by him, others he with great humility retracted. To recompense the zeal of Cosmus of Medicis, duke of Florence, he granted him by a bull the title of grand duke, and crowned him as such at Rome in 1569, though the emperor refused for some time to acknowledge that new title. By a great number of wise regulations he endeavored to extirpate various scandals and abuses: in a brief, by which he strongly enforces the canons relating to the respect due to holy places, among other things, he forbids any either to give or ask an alms in churches, but only at the doors; which is commanded by several councils, to prevent an occasion of distractions and an abuse contrary to the silence and respect due to the house of prayer. Certain privileges granted to particular confraternities, seem to have given occasion in some places to too great a neglect of these wholesome and necessary canons.

Notwithstanding his attention to the public affairs, the good pope did not forget that the exercises of an interior life are the means by which our souls must maintain and improve the spirit of holy charity, and by it sanctify our exterior actions. Prayer and holy meditation were his delight; for he well knew that the fire of charity will soon be extinguished in the heart unless it be continually nourished by new fuel. St. Pius joined to prayer assiduous mortification, and large alms. He often visited the hospitals, washed the feet of the poor, kissed their ulcers, comforted them in their sufferings, and disposed them for a Christian death. He gave twenty thousand crowns of gold to the hospital of the Holy Ghost, and great and frequent charities to other hospitals; he founded a distribution of dowries for the marriage of poor women, and made many most useful pious foundations to perpetuate the honor of God and the salvation of souls, particularly for the instruction of youth in the Christian doctrine, which he earnestly recommended to all pastors by an express bull, in 1571. In the time of a great famine in Rome, he imported corn at his own expense from Sicily and France, to the value of above one hundred thousand gold crowns; a considerable part of which he distributed among the poor, gratis, and sold the rest to the public much under prime cost. Frugal in all things that regarded himself, he was enabled by his good economy to make many useful foundations for promoting virtue and religion, and to relieve the distressed by incredible general alms-deeds and public benefactions, exclusively of the large daily demands which particular charities made upon him. He was a great encourager of learning and learned men; and to him the schools are indebted for the most accurate edition of the works of St. Thomas Aquinas, which appeared in 1570. He wrote to queen Mary Stuart, in 1570, to comfort her during her long imprisonment suffered for religion.

Selimus II., emperor of the Turks, pursuing the ambitious and boundless designs of his father Solyman, proposed nothing less to himself than to overrun all Christendom with his arms, and to add all the western kingdoms to his empire. Though he was himself an effeminate tyrant, enervated by drunkenness and debaucheries, he was long successful in his wars, by the conduct of veteran soldiers and experienced generals who had been trained up by his warlike father. Flushed with victories and elated with pride, when Italy was afflicted with a famine, and the great arsenal of Venice had been lately almost entirely destroyed by a dreadful fire, he haughtily demanded of that republic the peaceable surrender of the isle of Cyprus, by way of satisfaction for pretended injuries; though in reality for the sake of its excellent wine, with which liquor he was extremely besotted, though forbidden by the Koran, threatening that in case of refusal he would force it from them. Having all things in readiness beforehand, the infidels immediately invaded the island, took Nicosia by storm, in 1570, after a siege of forty-eight days, and in 1571, Famagusta by capitulation, after having battered that city with above 1,500,000 cannon shot, during a siege of seventy-five days. Notwithstanding the articles of an honorable capitulation had been ratified by the most solemn oaths, the Bashaw Mustapha, by an unheard-of treacherous perfidy, put to most cruel deaths all the brave Venetian officers of the place; and caused the valiant Venetian governor Brigadin after cutting off his ears and nose, with a thousand insults, blasphemies, and torments continued or repeated for many days, to be flayed alive in the market-place: all which he suffered with admirable patience, and in great sentiments of piety, expiring when his skin was torn off to his waist. Alarmed at the danger which threatened all Christendom, St. Pius entered into a league with Philip II., king of Spain, and the Venetians, in order to check the progress of the Mahometans; the other Christian princes excusing themselves from acceding to it, on account of domestic broils. This alliance was ratified in May, 1571; and to avoid occasions of dissension among the princes that were engaged, the pope was declared chief of the league and expedition, who appointed Mark Antony Colonna general of his galleys, and Don John of Austria generalissimo of all the forces. The army consisted of twenty thousand good soldiers, besides seamen; and the fleet of one hundred and one great galleys, some tall ships, and a considerable number of galliots and small vessels. The pope, together with his apostolic benediction, sent to the general a prediction of certain victory, with an order to disband all soldiers who seemed to go only for the sake of plunder, and all scandalous and riotous persons, whose crimes might draw down the divine indignation upon their arms.

The Christians sailed directly from Corfu. and found the Turkish fleet at anchor in the harbor of Lepanto. As soon as the Turks saw the Christian fleet so near, they reinforced their troops from the land, and sailed out in order of battle. Don John kept the centre, and had for seconds Colonna and the Venetian general Venieri: Andrew Doria commanded the right wing, and Austin Barbarigo the left. Peter Justiniani, who commanded the galleys of Malta, and Paul Jourdain, were posted at the extremities of this line. The marquis of Sainte Croix had a body of reserve of sixty vessels ready to sustain or relieve any part in danger of being overpowered. John of Cordova, with a squadron of eight vessels, scoured before, to spy and give intelligence; and six Venetian galeasses formed an avant-guard to the fleet. A little after sunrise the Turkish fleet, consisting of three hundred and thirty sail of all sorts, appeared in sight, almost in the same order of battle, only, according to their custom, in form of a crescent. They had no squadron of reserve, and therefore their line being much wider, they far outfronted the Christians, which is a great advantage in battle. Hali was in the centre, facing Don John of Austria; Petauch was his second; Louchali and Siroch commanded the two wings, against Doria and Barbarigo Don John gave the signal of battle, by hanging out the banner sent him from the pope, on which the image of Christ crucified was embroidered. The Christian generals harangued their soldiers in few words, then made a sign for prayers; at which the soldiers fell on their knees before a crucifix, and continued in that posture in fervent prayer till the fleets drew near to each other, when at a second signal the battle began. The Turks bore down with great rapidity on the Christians, being assisted by a brisk gale of wind, which promised them the greatest advantage possible, especially as they were superior in numbers, and in the extent of their front. But the wind, which before was very strong, fell just as the fight began, was succeeded by a calm, and this soon after by a high wind, entirely favorable to the Christians; which carried the smoke and fire of their artillery upon the enemy, almost blinded them, and at length quite bore them down. The battle was most obstinate and bloody, and the victory the most complete that ever was gained over the Ottoman empire. After three hours’ fight, with equal advantage, the left wing, commanded by Barbarigo, got the better, and sunk the galley which Siroch was in, who had fought to admiration. His loss so dispirited his squadron, that, being vigorously pressed by the Venetians, it gave way, and made towards the coast. Don John, seeing this advantage of his right wing, was animated with new courage, doubled his fire, and killed Hali, the Turkish general, boarded his galley, pulled down his flag, and cried, Victory: after which it was no longer a fight, but a perfect slaughter in the centre; the Turks suffering themselves to be killed without making any resistance. Louchali, indeed, by his numbers and wider front, kept Doria and the right wing at a distance, till the marruis of Sainte Croix coming up to join him, the Turk made all the sail he could, and escaped by flight, with thirty galleys, all the rest being either taken or sunk.1 This battle was fought on the 7th of October, 1571, and continued from about six in the morning till evening, when the approaching darkness and the roughness of the sea obliged the Christians to betake themselves to the next havens. The Turks, with their haughty emperor, were seized with the utmost consternation at the news, of their dreadful overthrow: and the city of Constantinople was as much alarmed as if the enemy had been at the gates: many of the inhabitants carried their treasures to the Christians to keep for them, as if the town had been already in their hands. The infidels, who, elated by their rapid conquests in the East had already swallowed up, in their imagination, Italy, and all the rest of Christendom, were taught by this defeat that the tide of their victories was stemmed. God, who has set bounds to the raging billows of the sea, and who weighs in his hand the globe of the universe as a gram of sand, fixes limits to states and empires, and governs their revolutions. By abandoning many flourishing nations to the infidels, he has given a terrible instance of his justice, by which he admonishes others whom he has hitherto spared, though perhaps more guilty, to fear his anger, and by sincere repentance to sue for mercy, while it is yet offered them. It is owing to his clemency towards the remaining part of Christendom, that he bridled the fury of these most fierce and barbarous infidels, in the very height of their pride and prosperity. From that time the Turks* have gradually weakened themselves by their own domestic policy, and have at present reason to dread the arms of those Christian powers, to whom their very name was formerly a terror. In the battle at Lepanto, the infidels lost thirty thousand men, with their general, Hali, and above two hundred ships and galleys, besides ninety that were stranded, burnt, or sunk. There were taken one hundred and sixteen pieces of great cannon, two hundred and fifty-six smaller, and five thousand prisoners, with a great number of officers of rank, among whom were two sons of Hali, nephews to the grand signior. The booty was exceedingly great; for the Turkish fleet was laden with the plunder of many merchantmen, and of several islands: fifteen thousand slaves, that were found chained on board their galleys, were set at liberty.

The holy pope, from the beginning of the expedition, had ordered public prayers and fasts, and had not ceased to solicit heaven, with uplifted hands, like Moses on the mountain, besides afflicting his body by watching and fasting. At the hour of the battle, the procession of the Rosary, in the church at the Minerva, was pouring orth solemn prayers for the victory. The pope was then conversing with some cardinals on business: but, on a sudden, left them abruptly, opened the window, stood some time with his eyes fixed on the heavens, and then shutting the casement, said: “It is not now a time to talk any more upon business; but to give thanks to God for the victory he has granted to the arms of the Christians.” This fact was carefully attested, and authentically recorded both at that time, and again in the process for the saint’s canonization.2 In consequence of this miraculous victory, the pope ordered the festival of the Rosary to be kept on the first Sunday of October, in perpetual thanksgiving to God, and in the litany of our Lady inserted those words: succor of Christians. He caused a triumph to be decreed Don John, which was graced with many illustrious prisoners; and he bestowed honors and gratifications on other generals and officers. The year following he was preparing to pursue the advantage gained by this great victory, when he died of the stone, on the 1st of May, 1572, being sixty-eight years, three months, and fifteen days old, having governed the church six years and almost four months. He had suffered, from January, the sharpest pains with heroic patience. He was beatified by Clement X., in 1672, and canonized by Clement XI., in 1712. His precious remains lie in the church of St. Mary Major. Many miracles are recorded by Gabutius. Henschenius has added a relation of many others approved by the auditors of the Rota under Urban VIII., in 1629.3

The greatest danger in a public elevated station is, as St. Bernard pathetically put his disciple, whom he saw raised to the popedom, in mind of lest, in the hurry of external concerns, we should forget to give sufficient attention to those of our own souls, and lose ourselves in the wilderness or tumult of distracting thoughts and employments. But those who have their whole time at their own disposal, yet have their eyes always abroad, and live, as it were, without themselves, are truly foolish. Every one’s first and principal business is included within himself, in his own heart. It is so deep, that we shall always find in it exercise enough, and shall never be able to sound it: only He, who tries the thoughts and reins, can thoroughly know it. What have we to do to concern ourselves with the wars of states. and the quarrels of private persons? But it is infinitely both our duty and our interest to take cognizance of the contests between the flesh and the spirit within our own breasts: to appease this intestine war, by teaching the flesh to be in subjection, placing reason on its throne, and making God reign sovereignly in our hearts. It is not so slight a task as men generally seem to imagine, to keep our domestic kingdom in good order, and to govern wisely and holily those numerous people which are contained in this little state, that is to say, that multitude of affections, thoughts, opinions, and passions, which easily raise tumults in our hearts. Those who are charged with the care of others, are obliged to reserve to themselves leisure for pious meditation, prayer, and self-examination, and diligently to watch over their own souls. He who is bad to himself, to whom will he be good?4

MAY 5 — ST. HILARY, ARCHBISHOP OF ARLES, C

From his life, by a contemporary bishop of his province, who had been his disciple. Ceillier shows this author to have been St. Honoratus, bishop of Marseilles. See Rivet, Hist. Littér. de la France, t. 2, p. 209.

A. D. 449.

THIS saint was nobly born about the year 401, and was related to St. Honoratus of Arles, and of the same country in Gaul, which was probably Lorraine, or some other part of Austrasia. He was brought up in a manner suitable to his birth, in the study of the liberal arts, and of every branch of polite learning, especially of eloquence and philosophy. But how little value we ought to set on all things that appear great in the eyes of the world, he himself has taught us. “We are all equal,” says he, “in Jesus Christ; and the highest degree of our nobility is to be of the number of the true servants of God. Neither science, nor birth, according to this world, can exalt us, but in proportion to our contempt of them.” Before God had put these sentiments into his heart, he seems to have been not altogether insensible to the advantages of this world, in which he was raised to the highest dignities. His kinsman, St. Honoratus, who had forsaken his country to seek Christ in the solitude of the isle of Lerins, where he had founded a great monastery, was the instrument made use of by the Almighty to open his eyes. This holy man had always loved Hilary, and thought he could not give him more solid proof of his friendship than by endeavoring to gain him entirely to God. He therefore left his retirement for a few days to seek him out, and endeavored to move him by the same powerful, weighty reflections, which had made the deepest impression on his own mind, and induced him to break the chains of the world. “What floods of tears,” says St. Hilary, “did this true friend shed to soften the hardness of my heart! How often did he embrace me with the most tender and compassionate affection, to obtain of me that I would take into serious consideration the salvation of my soul! Yet, by an unhappy victory, I still remained conqueror.” Honoratus, finding his endeavors to wean him from the charms of a deceitful world ineffectual, had recourse to prayer, his ordinary refuge. “Well,” said he to Hilary, “I will obtain of God, what you will not now grant me.” Upon which they took leave of each other. Hilary, reflecting on what Honoratus had said to him, was not long before he began to feel a violent conflict within himself. “On one side,” says he, “methought I saw the Lord calling me; on the other the world offering me its seducing charms and pleasures. How often did I embrace and reject, will and not will the same thing! But in the end Jesus Christ triumphed in me. And three days after Honoratus had left me, the mercy of God, solicited by his prayers, subdued my rebellious soul.” He then went in person to seek St. Honoratus, and appeared before him as humble and tractable as the saint had left him haughty and indocile.

From this moment there appeared in Hilary that wonderful change which the Holy Ghost produces in a soul which he truly converts. His words, looks, and whole comportment breathed nothing but humility, patience, sweetness, mortification, and charity. Every one saw in him a man who began to labor in earnest to save his soul, and who had put his hand to the plough to look no more behind him, or to send a single thought after what he had left for Christ’s sake. Aspiring to perfection, he sold all his several estates to his brother, and distributed all the money accruing from the sale among the poor, and the most indigent monasteries. Thus disengaged from the world, and naked, no less in the inward disposition of soul than in his exterior, he, like Abraham, took leave of his own country, and made the best of his way to Lerins; where from his first entrance he made it appear that he was worthy to live in the company of saints. He set out in the pursuit of monastic perfection with such zeal and ferver, as to become in a short time the pattern of those on whose instructions and example he came to form his own conduct. His application to prayer and mortification, and his watchfulness and care to avoid the smallest faults and imperfections, prepared him to receive the gift of tears. It is thought that his baptism was posterior to his retirement. St. Honoratus having been chosen archbishop of Aries, in 426, Hilary followed him to that city; but it was not long before his love of solitude occasioned his return co Lerins. All the holy inhabitants of that isle testified as great joy to receive him again, as he felt to see himself among them. But. God, who had other designs upon him, did not permit him to enjoy long his beloved retirement. St. Honoratus begged his assistance, and the comfort of his company, and as he did not yield to entreaties, went himself to fetch him from Lerins. Soon after God called St. Honoratus to himself, his death happening in 428 or 429. Hilary, though sensibly afflicted for the loss of such a friend, rejoiced however to see himself at liberty, and set out directly for Lerins. But no sooner were the citizens apprized of his departure;, than messengers posted after him with such expedition, that he was overtaken, brought back, and consecrated archbishop, though only twenty-nine years of age.

In this high station the virtues which he had acquired in solitude shone with lustre to mankind. The higher he was exalted by his dignity, the more did he humble himself beneath all others in his heart. He reduced himself in every thing to the strictest bounds of necessity: and he had only one coat for winter and summer. He applied himself diligently to meditation on the holy scriptures, and preaching the word of God, was assiduous in prayer, watching, and fasting. He had his hours also for manual labor, with a view of gaining something for the poor; choosing such work as he could join with reading or prayer. He travelled always on foot, and had attained to so perfect an evenness of temper, that his mind seemed never ruffled with the least emotion of anger. He had an admirable talent in preaching. When he spoke before the learned of the world, his elocution, his accent, his discourse, his action, were such as the greatest orators justly admired, but despaired ever to come up to. Yet when he instructed the illiterate, he changed his manner of address, and proportioned his instructions to the capacities of the most simple and ignorant, though always supporting the dignity of the divine word by a manner and expression suitable to its majesty. He preached the truth in its purity, without flattering the great. He had often in private admonished a certain judge in the province of a criminal partiality in the administration of justice, but without effect. One day the magistrate came into the church, attended by his officers, while the saint was preaching. The holy bishop broke off his sermon on the spot, and gave his surprised audience for reason, that he who had so often neglected the advice he had given him for his salvation, was not worthy to partake of the nourishment of the divine word. The judge no sooner heard his reflection, but withdrew in confusion, and the saint resumed his discourse. Observing one day that many went out of the church immediately after the reading of the gospel, just as he was going to preach, he prevailed with them to return, by saying: “You will not so easily get out of hell, if you are once unhappily fallen into its dungeons.” He had such a love for the poor, that to have the more to bestow on them, he lived himself in the greatest poverty: he never kept a horse, and labored hard in digging and manuring the ground, though educated according to the dignity of his family. To redeem captives he caused the church plate to be sold, not excepting the sacred vessels; making use of patens and chalices of glass in the celebration of the divine mysteries. If his compassion for the corporal miseries of the faithful was so tender, we may judge how much more he was moved to pity at their spiritual necessities. He bore the weak with tenderness, but never indulged the passions or sloth of any. When he put any one in a course of penance he was himself bathed in tears; whereby he both excited the penitent to the like, and with ardent sighs and prayer obtained for him of God the grace of compunction and pardon. He visited the bishops of his province, and endeavored to make them walk in the perfect spirit of Christ, the prince of pastors. He established many monasteries, and took particular care to enforce a strict observance of monastic discipline among them. He had a close friendship with St. Germanus, whom he called his father, and respected as an apostle. He presided in the council of Ries in 439, in the first council of Orange in 441, in the council of Vaison in 442, and probably in 443, in the second council of Arles, in all which several canons of discipline were framed.

His zeal exasperated several repid persons; and some of these, by misconstruing his actions, gave the holy pope St. Leo a disadvantageous character of him. His zeal, indeed, had been on some occasions too hasty and precipitate: but this was owing in him to mistake, not to passion; for the circumstances of his actions, and of his eminent piety, oblige us to interpret his intention by the same spirit by which he governed himself in his whole conduct. This disagreement between St. Leo and St. Hilary proved a trial for the exercise of zeal in the former, and of patience in the latter, for his greater sanctification by humility, submission, and silence. Chelidonius, bishop of Besançon, had been deposed by St. Hilary upon an allegation, that, before he was consecrated bishop, he had married a widow, and had condemned persons to death as magistrate; both which were looked upon as irregularities or disqualifications for holy orders. Chelidonius hereupon set out for Rome, to justify himself to the pope, St. Leo, who received his appeal from his metropolitan, and acquitted him of the irregularity with which he stood charged. St. Hilary, upon hearing that his suffragan was gone for Rome, followed him thither on foot, and in the midst of winter. The pope having assembled a council to judge this affair, St. Hilary took his seat among the other bishops that composed it: but from his not attempting to prove the irregularity which had been alleged against Chelidonius, the saint seemed to own that he had been imposed on as to the matter of fact. But he pretended, that the cause ought not to be judged otherwise than by commissaries deputed by the pope to take cognizance of it in the country that gave it birth, a point for which some Africans had contended. This plea was overruled, the contrary having been frequently practised, when both parties could appear at Rome: though the manner of judging appeals is only a point of discipline, which may vary in different places. Another affair brought St. Hilary into a greater difficulty. Projectus, a bishop of his province, being sick, St. Hilary, upon information, hastened to his see, and ordained a new bishop: after which Projectus recovering, there were two bishops contending for the same see, and Hilary supported the last ordained; perhaps because the first might remain disabled for his functions. The author of St. Hilary’s life does not clear up his conduct in this particular: but we cannot doubt of the sincerity of his intention. Moreover the discipline of the church in such matters was not at that time so clearly settled by the canons as it has been since. St. Hilary therefore imagined a metropolitan might have a discretionary power in such matters. However St. Leo rightly judged such an ordination irregular fable to great inconveniences, and productive of schisms. Wherefore he forbade St. Hilary to ordain any bishops for the future. Our holy prelate cancelled his mistakes by his patience, and St. Leo, writing immediately after the saint’s death, to his successor Ravennus, calls him, Hilary of holy memory.1 Exhausted by austerities and labors, St. Hilary passed to a better life on the 5th of May, 449, being only forty-eight years old. St. Honoratus, the eloquent bishop of Marseilles,* who has given us an abstract of his life, relates several miraculous cures wrought by the saint while he was living. His body lies in a subterraneous chapel, under the high altar, in the church of St. Honoratus at Arles, with an elegant ancient epitaph. The name of St. Hilary stands in the Roman Martyrology.

That this saint never gave in to the Semi-Pelagian doctrine, though it had not been then condemned by any decree of the pastors of the church, is clearly shown by Tillemont2 and Dom. Rivet.3 This is proved from several passages in his life by St. Honoratus; and in the Martyrologies of Rabanus and Notker it is mentioned that he vigorously exerted his zeal in bringing to light and in correcting the Pelagian heresy, which is taught in the conferences of Cassian.† His exposition of the creed, commended by the ancients, is now lost: his homilies on all the feasts of the year were much esteemed, but are not known at present. The best edition of his works is given by John Salinas, regular canon of St. John Lateran, in Italy, in 1731

MAY 5 — ST. ANGELUS, CARMELITE FRIAR, M

He was of Jewish parents, and a native of Jerusalem. Being converted to the faith, he embraced the austere life of certain anchorets on the banks of the Jordan; from whom he passed to the hermits of the desert on mount Carmel. He seems to have been one among them at the time when the blessed Albert drew up a rule for them in 1206: at least he became one of the first friars of that holy order. Coming to preach in the West, he was massacred by the heretics at Licate or Leocata, in Sicily, in 1225, by the contrivance of a powerful rich man, whose incest with a sister he had severely reproved, and had converted her from that scandalous life. The annals of the order furnish the most material circumstances of his glorious death, and the account of his miracles. See Papebroke the Bollandist, t. 2, Maij. p. 56, who sets no great value on any of the three different acts or relations of his martyrdom, but gives long accounts of miracles performed since his death, and of the great veneration which is paid to him in Sicily, especially at Leocata and at Palermo. See also on St. Angelus, the new Bibliotheca Carmelitana, printed at Orleans, in 1752, t.1, p. 113.

MAY 5 — ST. MAURONT, ABBOT

He was born in the year 634, and was baptized by St. Riquier. Being the eldest son of blessed Adalbald, an illustrious French nobleman of royal blood, and of St. Rictrudes, of a most noble family in Gascony or Aquitaine, his high birth promised him the first honors of the kingdom, and his capacity and integrity made him superior to the greatest affairs. He passed his youth in the court of king Clovis II. and the holy queen Bathildes, and discharged in it many honorable employs. On the death of his father he became lord or duke of Douay, and succeeded to his other large estates, came home into Flanders to settle his concerns and to marry a rich young lady, a treaty having been already concluded for this purpose. But God designed him for a state of greater perfection; and his instrument for bringing this about was St. Amand, bishop of Maestricht, who then led a retired life in his monastery of Elnone. Mauront was so touched by a discourse of this holy prelate on the vanity and dangers of the world, that he went directly to the monastery of Marchiennes, founded by his mother. There he soon received the clerical tonsure from St. Amand, and after some years was made deacon and prior of Hemaye, or Hamaige, half a league from Marchiennes, on the Scarp. He built himself a new monastery called Breüil, on his estate of Merville, a considerable town near St. Venant, in the diocese of Teroüanne, and when it was finished, was chosen the first abbot. His father Adalbald had two brothers, Sigefrid, count of Ponthieu, and Archenald Mayor of the Palace to Clovis II., son to Dagobert, to whom they were related. After the death of Adalbald, whom the poet who celebrated St. Rictrudes, styles duke of the people of Douay,* his brother Archenald rebuit, the castle of Douay, (which gave rise to the town,) and founded the church of our Lady, now called St. Amatus’s.1 St. Amatus, on being banished by king Theodoric III., was committed to the care of Mauront, who profited exceedingly by the saintly conversations of that holy confessor: whom he so much respected that he resigned to him his abbacy, and lived under his obedience, but was obliged to resume his charge upon the death of that holy bishop, in 690. He was also abbot of the monks at Marchiennes, while his sister Clotsenda was abbess of the separate house of nuns, this being at that time a double monastery. St. Mauront died there in the seventy-second year of his age, of Christ 706, on the 5th of May, on which day he is commemorated in the Belgic Martyrologies. Merville, the ancient Minariacum of Antoninus, having been plundered by the Danes or Normans, towards the end of the ninth century, Charles the Simple, king of France, transferred the community of monks from Breüil to our Lady’s church at Douay, which had been founded by Archenald, St. Mauront’s uncle. At the same time the body of St. Mauront, with that of St. Amatus, was translated from Breüil to Douay, and both are there enshrined in the church of St. Amatus, which, since the secularization of the monastery in 940, is a collegiate church of canons. In its archives, and in the ancient calendars of the cathedral of Arras, St. Martin’s at Tournay, Liesse, &c., St. Mauront is styled sometimes Levite or deacon, and sometimes abbot: by which he seems never to have been ordained priest. His body is kept in a rich shrine in this church, in which is a chapel sacred to his name and his parents, where his statue is seen betwixt those of his parents. He is represented holding in his right hand a sceptre, and in his left a building with a tower or belfry. The abbey of St. Guislin in Hainault possesses his skull in a shrine of silver gilt. The cathedral of Arras, and some churches, show particles of his relics.* On his life consult Huebald the monk, in his life of St. Rictrudes, the archives of the church of St. Amatus in Douay, copied by Buzelin in his accurate Gallo-Flandria, and Annales Flandrici, and by Henschenius, t. 2, Maij, p. 53. See also Miræus, Malbrancq, Locrius, Grammaye, Sylvius Baldricus, Le Cointe, an. 638, n. 97; Molanus, &c.

MAY 5 — ST. AVERTIN, C

He was a holy deacon, who attended St. Thomas of Canterbury in his exile, and in all his troubles. After the martyrdom of that prelate, Avertin consecrated himself to the service of the poor and strangers at Vinzai, a village in Touraine, where he happily ended his course about 1189. See the new Martyrology of Evreux, that of Tours, &c., on the 5th of May.

MAY 6 — ST. JOHN BEFORE THE LATIN GATE

From St. Jerom in Jovin. t. 1, p. 14. Tertullian, Præscr. c. 36. Tillem. t. 1, p. 338, and L’Istoria della Chiesa di S. Giovanni avanti Porta Latina, Scritta da Gio. Mario Crescimbeni. Roma, 1716. 4to.

A. D. 95.

WHEN the two sons of Zebedee, James and John, strangers as yet to the mystery of the cross and the nature of Christ’s kingdom, had, by their mother Salome,1 besought our Lord to allot them the two first places in his kingdom, (implied by sitting at his right and left hand,) he asked them whether they were disposed to drink of his cup, or in other words, to suffer with him, in which case they should not fail to be considered in proportion to their pains and fidelity. The two disciples answered boldly in the affirmative, assuring their divine Master that they were ready to undergo anything for his sake. Our Lord thereupon foretold them that their sincerity should be brought to the trial, and that they should both be partakers of his cup of sufferings, and undergo bitter things for the honor and confirmation of the Christian religion. This was literally fulfilled in St. James, on his being put to death for the faith by Herod: and this day’s festival records in part the manner in which it was verified in St. John. It may be said, without any violence to the sense of the words, that this favorite disciple, who so tenderly loved his Master, and was so tenderly beloved by him, drank of his chalice, and experienced a large share of its bitterness, when he assisted at his crucifixion; feeling then in his soul, by grief and compassion, whatever he saw him suffer on the cross. This was further fulfilled after the descent of the Holy Ghost, when he underwent the like imprisonment, scourging, &c., with the other apostles, as is recorded in the fifth chapter of the Acts. But our Saviour’s prediction was to be accomplished in a more particular manner, and still more conformable to the letter, and which should entitle him to the merit and crown of martyrdom; the instrument whereof was Domitian, the last of the twelve Cæsars.

He was a tyrant, detestable to all men on account of his cruelty, and the author of the second general persecution of the church. In the beginning of his reign he accustomed himself to take pleasure in acts of inhumanity, spending part of his time in his closet in catching flies, and sticking them with a sharp bodkin. He debauched his own niece, and impiously took the titles of God and Lord, as Suetonius and Eusebius have recorded. He reigned fifteen years, that is, from the year of Christ 81 to 96. Tacitus says, that in cruelty he surpassed Nero, who often shunned the sight of barbarous executions, whereas Domitian was known to take delight in beholding them. He deluged Rome with the blood of its illustrious citizens, and out of a hatred to virtue, banished the philosophers; on which occasion Epictetus (whose Enchiridion is the most perfect abstract of the justest sentiments of moral virtue ever published by a heathen) and Dio Chrysostomus, with others, were expelled the city. As for the Christians, not only the sanctity of their doctrine and manners was the strongest reproach of the crimes of the tyrant, but the general hatred of the heathens against them excited him to glut his insatiable cruelty with their innocent blood. St. John, who was the only surviving apostle, and who at that time governed all the churches of Asia with the highest reputation which his dignity, extraordinary virtue, and miracles had acquired, was apprehended at Ephesus, and sent prisoner to Rome in the year 95. The emperor did not relent at the sight of a man of his most venerable old age and countenance, which alone might suffice to command respect, but condemned him to a most barbarous death, by ordering him to be cast into a caldron of boiling oil. The holy apostle was probably first scourged, according to the Roman custom with regard to criminals before execution, who could not plead the privilege of being Roman citizens. It is at least certain, from Tertullian, St. Jerom, and Eusebius, that by the order of the tyrant, he was thrown into a vessel of boiling oil. The martyr doubtless heard, with great joy, this barbarous sentence, exulting at the thought of speedily rejoining his Redeemer, and desiring to repay love for love in the best manner he was able, and to die for Him who had laid down his most precious life to save us sinners from hell. The most cruel torments seemed to him light and most agreeable, because they would, he hoped, unite him forever to his divine Master and Saviour: but God accepted his will, and crowned his desire; he conferred on him the honor and merit of martyrdom, but suspended the operation of the fire, as he had formerly preserved the three children from hurt in the Babylonian furnace. The seething oil was changed in his regard into a refreshing bath, and the saint came out more fresh and lively than he had entered the caldron. Domitian, with most of the heathens, entertained a great idea of the power of magic, in which he had been confirmed by the reports concerning the prodigies pretended to be wrought by the famous magician, Apollonius of Tyana, whom he had sent for to Rome. He therefore saw this miracle without drawing from it the least advantage, but, like another Pharaoh, remained hardened in his iniquity. However, he contented himself after this with banishing the holy apostle into the little island of Patmos, one of the Sporades, in the Archipelago or Ægean sea. Domitian being assassinated the year following, his statues were everywhere pulled down, his named erased from all public buildings, and his decrees declared void by the senate. Upon which St. John returned to Ephesus, in the reign of Nerva, who by mildness, during his short reign of one year and four months, labored to restore the faded lustre of the Roman empire.

This glorious triumph of St. John happened without the gate of Rome, called Latina, because it led to Latium. A church was consecrated in the same place in memory of this miracle, under the first Christian emperors, which has always borne this title. It is said to have been a pagan temple of Diana, before it was converted to the worship of the true God. It was rebuilt by pope Adrian I. in 772. This festival has been kept in many places a holiday. In the twelfth century, and probably long before, till the change of religion, it was observed in England a holiday of the second rank, in which all servile work was forbid, except agriculture. Our pious Saxon ancestors had a singular devotion to St. Peter and St. John the Evangelist.

Our divine Saviour, as a mark of his special favor, and to put their love to the test, asked his two disciples, James and John, whether they could drink of the cup of which he was to drink. His sufferings he called his cup, first, because, out of the excess of his love for man, he was pressed with a burning desire to suffer and die for his redemption, as with a vehement thirst, which nothing but the ignominies and cruel torments of his cross could satiate.2 O ardent desire of Jesus to suffer for us! O love of his cross! Secondly, Because, among the Jews, a portion which fell to a person’s lot was called his cup, Jesus, by this expression, gives us to understand that his cross and sufferings were allotted him by his eternal Father as his portion, and that from the first moment of his Incarnation he accepted it cheerfully from his hands, with an entire submission to his will, offering himself as a victim perfectly to accomplish it. He presents his cup to his servants to drink, because there is nothing which produces in them so perfect a conformity with himself, or improves more wonderfully all heroic virtues in their souls, or obtains more abundantly for them the greatest graces, provided we bear our cross with him, embrace it affectionately for his love, and offer our sufferings to him, uniting them with his. O precious cross! you are the high royal road to heaven, sanctified and made divine by our sovereign Head, who opened it, and showed the way in which all his elect follow him. St. John suffered above the other saints a martyrdom of love, being a martyr, and more than a martyr, at the foot of the cross of his divine Master, with the true lovers of Jesus, Magdalen, and the Blessed Virgin mother. All his sufferings were by love and compassion imprinted in his soul, and thus shared by him. O singular happiness of St. John, to have stood under the cross of Christ, so near his divine person, when the other disciples had all forsaken him! O extraordinary privilege, to have suffered martyrdom in the person of Jesus, and been eye-witness or all he did or endured, and of all that happened to him in that great sacrifice and mystery!3 Here he drank of his cup; this was truly a martyrdom, and our Saviour exempted all those who had assisted at the martyrdom of his cross from suffering death by the hands of persecutors. St. John, nevertheless, received also the crown of this second martyrdom, to which the sacrifice of his will was not wanting, but only the execution.

MAY 6 — SAINT JOHN DAMASCEN, FATHER OF THE CHURCH

From the works of the saint, and the histories of those times. His life written by John IV., patriarch of Jerusalem, who lived two hundred years after him, borrows the first part, before his monastic profession, from uncertain memoirs. See Nat. Alex. sæc. 8; Fleury, b. 42; Papebroke May 6; Ceillier. t. 18, p. 110.

A. D. 780.

MAHOMET, the great impostor, subdued a considerable part of Arabia before his death, which happened in 632. His successor, Abubeker, extended his conquests into Chaldea and Persia. Omar, the second caliph of the Saracens, subdued Palestine, Syria, Mesopotamia, and Egypt, before the death of the emperor Heraclius, in 641. Othman, the third caliph, died in 655, and Ali the fourth, in 660. This last founded the sect of Mahometanism which the Persians follow, and which the Turks and others, who adhere to the interpretations of his predecessors, Omar and Othman, detest above all other religions. Such was the posture of affairs in the East, when St. John was born, in the declension of the seventh century, at Damascus, from which city he received his surname: by the Saracens he was called Mansur. He was of a noble and ancient family, and his father, though always a zealous and pious Christian, was held in great esteem by the Saracen caliphs for his high birth, probity, and abilities; was advanced by them to the first employments of the state, and made their chief secretary or counsellor. The pious statesman was the more watchful and fervent in all duties of religion, the greater the dangers were to which he saw his faith exposed. Being chiefly solicitous for the education of his son in innocence and piety, amidst the dangers of such a court, he purchased the liberty of a learned and devout Grecian monk, named Cosmas, who, having been taken prisoner by the Saracens, was brought to Damascus for sale. Him he appointed tutor to his son, and to another youth called Cosmas, the charge of whose education he had taken upon himself. The preceptor entered into the views of the zealous parent, and bent his whole attention to defend the tender plants from the rude winds of trials and temptations. The caliph was much taken with the capacity and virtue of John, and after the death of his father, made him governor of Damascus, his capital city. After Ali, the dignity of caliph had passed into another family, called the Ommiads. The name of the first of these was Moavia. This prince and his immediate successors treated the Christians with courtesy and mildness: and so great were the abilities, and such the transcendent virtue of John, that he enjoyed his prince’s favor without envy. But he always trembled at the sight of those spiritual dangers with which he saw himself surrounded. He was sensible, that, in a flow of plenty and prosperity, the heart is apt to warp towards vice and the world, and he dreaded the contagion of the air he breathed. He therefore, at length, came to a resolution to resign his honors, and soon after disposed of his estates in favor of the church and the poor, and with Cosmas, his companion, withdrew secretly to the great Laura of St. Sabas, near Jerusalem. Cosmas was afterwards chosen bishop of Majuma, in Palestine.

Saint John, in his solitude, rejoiced to see himself delivered from the slavery of the world, and placed in a happy state of uninterrupted tranquillity, where his years passed away without one heavy minute, and where he had no other occupation but that of employing, without distraction, all his thoughts and endeavors on the end of his creation, the securing the salvation of his soul. He considered the important work which he had upon his hands, and set himself in earnest to learn perfectly to subdue his passions, and walk in the paths of true virtue. With this view, he addressed himself to the superior of the Laura, who gave him for director an experienced old monk. This great master in a spiritual life, conducting the novice to his cell, gave him the following short lessons: First, That he should never do his own will, but study in all things to die to himself, in order to divest himself of all inordinate self-love or attachment to creatures. Secondly, That he should frequently offer to God all his actions, difficulties, and prayers. Thirdly, That he should take no pride in his learning or any other advantage, but ground himself in a sincere and thorough conviction that he had nothing of his own stock but ignorance and weakness. Fourthly, That he should renounce all vanity, should always mistrust himself and his own lights, and never desire visions or the like extraordinary favors. Fifthly, That he should banish from his mind all thoughts of the world, nor ever disclose to strangers the instructions given him in the monastery that he should keep strict silence, and remember that there may be harm even in saying good things without necessity. By the punctual observance of these rules, the fervent novice made great progress in an interior life and Christian perfection. His director, to promote his spiritual advancement, often put his virtue to severe trials. He once sent him to Damascus to sell some baskets, and having set an exorbitant price on them, forbade him to take less. The saint obeyed his director without the least demur, and appeared poor and ill-clad in that great city, in which he had formerly lived in splendor. On being asked the price of his ware, he was abused and insulted for the unreasonableness of his demands. At length, one that had been formerly his servant, out of compassion, purchased his whole stock, at the price he asked; and the saint returned to his superior, victorious over vanity and pride. It happened that a certain monk, being inconsolable for the death of his brother, the saint, by way of comforting him. recited to him a Greek verse, importing, that all is vanity which time destroyeth. His director, for his greater security against the temptation of vanity or ostentation, on account of learning, called this a disobedience in speaking without necessity, and, by way of chastisement, turned him out of his cell. The humble saint wept bitterly to heal this wound of disobedience in his soul, as he confessed it to be; and without endeavoring to extenuate the fault, though in itself so excusable, begged the monks to intercede for him to his director for pardon. This was at length obtained, but only on condition that with his own hand he should cleanse out and carry away all the filth that lay about the monastery; which condition the saint, to whom humiliations were always welcome, most cheerfully complied with.

So accomplished a virtue made his superiors judge him worthy to be promoted to the priesthood, which was then much more rare in monasteries than at present. This dignity served only to increase his humility and fervor. His director at length thought him sufficiently grounded in habits of profound humility and self-denial, to be permitted to employ his talents in writing for the edification of others and the service of the church, without falling into the dangerous temptations of self-conceit and pride. For a secret vanity or self-complacency often robs even the Christian writer of the fruit of his labors before God; and an eminent author calls this base weakness of vanity the last foible of great geniuses. John had given proof by long and severe rials, that an entire contempt of himself, and a feeling sense of his own weakness and absolute insufficiency, were deeply rooted in his heart, when his superiors thought him sufficiently armed against this snare to be employed in teaching their theological schools. Soon after, they ordered him to take up his pen in defence of our holy faith, attacked by the Iconoclast heretics. The emperor Leo, the Isaurian, had published his edicts against holy images, in 726, and had found many followers, when St. John entered the lists against that heresy. He begins his first discourse, or oration, on this religious subject as follows: “Conscious to myself of my own baseness and unworthiness, I ought rather to condemn myself to an eternal silence, weeping, and confessing my sins before God. But seeing the church, which is founded on a rock, assailed by a furious storm, I think I ought no longer to remain silent, because I fear God more than an emperor of the earth.” He lays down for the foundation of the dispute, that the church cannot err: consequently it could never fall into idolatry.1 He explains what is meant by the adoration due to God alone, which, with St. Austin and other fathers, he calls Latria; and that inferior veneration which is paid to the friends and servants of God, which is entirely different, and infinitely beneath the former; and no more inconsistent with it than the civil honor which the law of nature and the holy scriptures command us to pay to princes and superiors. He shows that the veneration which we pay to the things which belong to God, as altars, &c., is not less distinct from the supreme honor we give to God. He says, the precept in the old law, which forbade images, (if it be not to be restrained to idols,) was merely ceremonial, and only regarded the Jews: which law, if we restore, we must equally admit circumcision and the sabbath. He testifies that the Iconoclasts allowed a religious honor to be due to the holy place on Mount Calvary, to the stone of the sepulchre, to the book of the gospels, to crosses and sacred vessels. Lastly, he proves the veneration of holy images by the testimony of the fathers. In his second discourse he teaches at large that the emperor is in trusted with the government of the state, but has no authority to make decisions in points of ecclesiastical doctrine. In the third, he demonstrates the use of holy images from the tradition of the fathers.

The dogmatical writings of this great doctor show the extent of his genius still more than his controversial; and in them the strength and clearness of his reasoning can be equalled only by the depth of his penetration, and the soundness of his judgment.* His most important and celebrated work is, The Exposition of the Orthodox Faith, divided into four books, in which he reduces all the branches of theology which the ancients explained in several scattered works into one regular body, which gives this sublime study the advantage of excellent method, connects all its parts in a short system, and sets them all together in one clear point of view.† This work was the first plan of the scholastic method of teaching divinity, which St. Anselm introduced much later among the Latins. St. John composed many holy canticles; and to his fellow-pupil, Cosmas, is the Greek Church indebted for the greater part of the sacred hymns which it uses in the divine office.

St. John travelled into Palestine, and also to Constantinople, to encourage the faithful, and to defend the use of holy images in the very seat of the persecutor, Constantine Copronymus. But he returned again to the Laura of St. Sabas, in Palestine, where, being in the dominions of the Saracen caliph, he continued to defend the church by his pen. We have the unexceptionable testimony of Dr. Cave,2 that no man can have a sound judgment who, reading his works, doth not admire his extraordinary erudition, the justness and precision of his ideas and conceptions, and the strength of his reasoning, especially in theological matters. But Baronius observes, that he was sometimes led into mistakes with regard to historical facts by faulty memoirs. John IV., patriarch of Jerusalem, extols his great skin in mathematics. Amidst his studies he was careful to nourish in his heart a spirit of devotion by constant recollection, and daily contemplation. For it is the reflection of a great man, and an eminent scholar,3 writing to contemplative persons, “that without assiduous prayer, reasoning is a great dissipation of the mind, and learning often extinguishes the humble interior spirit of prayer, as wind does a candle” In another place he calls too close application to mathematics the death of the spirit of prayer, and adds: “Suffer not yourself to be bewitched with the inchantment of geometry. Nothing will sooner dry up in you the interior spirit of recollection and devotion.” St. John, to shun this rock, was careful that his studies should never degenerate into a passion; he never suffered them to dissipate his mind, or encroach on his exercises of devotion, or any other duties, and in his inquiries shunned all idle curiosity. Having by retirement prepared himself for his last passage, he died in his cell about the year 780. His tomb was discovered near the church porch of this Laura, in the twelfth century, as John Phocas testifies.4

MAY 6 — ST. EADBERT, BISHOP OF LINDISFARNE, C

Venerable Bede assures us, that this holy man excelled both in the knowledge of the holy scriptures, and in the observance of the divine precepts. All his lifetime he was remarkable for his almsdeeds, and it was a law with him to lay aside yearly the tenth part of his goods for the poor. He was ordained successor to St. Cuthbert, in the see of Lindisfarne, in 687, and most worthily governed that church eleven years. It was his custom twice a year, in Lent, and during forty days before Christmas, to retire into a solitary place, encompassed by the waters of the sea, where St. Cuthbert had for some time served God in private before he went to the isle of Ferne. St. Eadbert spent this time remote from all company, in abstinence, prayers, and tears. St. Cuthbert had been buried about eleven years, when the brethren desired, with the approbation of Eadbert, to take up the bones of that eminent servant of God, whose life had been signalized by many illustrious miracles. Instead of dust, to which they expected they were reduced, to their great surprise they found the body as entire, and the joints all as pliable as if it had been living: all the vestments and clothes in which it was laid were also sound, and wonderfully fresh and bright. The monks made haste to inform the holy bishop, who was then in his Lent retreat, and they brought him part of the garments which covered the holy body. These he devoutly kissed, and ordered that the blessed body should be laid in other garments, put into the new coffin which was made for the holy relics, and, for greater veneration, placed above the pavement in the sanctuary. He added, that the grave which had been sanctified by so great a miracle of heavenly grace, would not remain long empty. This was accordingly done, and presently after Eadbert, the bishop beloved of God, fell dangerously sick, and his distemper daily increasing, on the 6th of May following he departed to our Lord. His body was laid in St. Cuthbert’s grave, and over the place was deposited the uncorrupted body of that glorious servant of God. “Miracles here wrought from time to time, in curing the sick, bear testimony to the merits of them both,” says Bede. The same historian informs us, that St. Eadbert covered with lead the church of Lindisfarne, which was dedicated by the archbishop Theodorus, under the patronage of St. Peter. It had been formerly built by bishop Finan, after the Scottish fashion, of oak boards and thatched with reeds. See Bede, Hist.1. 3, c. 25,1. 4, c. 29, 30, and his life of St. Cuthbert. St. Eadbert is named on this day in the Roman Martyrology.

MAY 7 — ST. STANISLAS, BISHOP OF CRACOW, MARTYR

From his life, elegantly written by Longinus Dugloss. Also from Chromerus. Kranizius, b. 3, c. 12, 13, 14, &c. See Papebroke, t. 2, Maij, p. 198.

A. D. 1079.

STANISLAS SEZEPANOWSKI was born on the 26th of July, 1030, at Sezepanow, in the diocese of Cracow. His parents, both of the most illustrious families of Poland, had passed thirty years together without issue, when this son was given them by heaven, after they had lost all hopes of children. They received him with thanksgiving to God, and devoted him from his birth to the divine service. The example of their extraordinary piety, charity to the poor, and constant practice of mortification, made insensible impressions upon the tender heart of their son, which were strengthened by their assiduous instructions. Young Stanislas, from his very infancy, showed an unusual affection for prayer, seriousness, and mortification, being very temperate in his meals, often secretly lying on the ground, and inuring himself to suffer cold and other inconveniences; in which acts of self-denial he was privately encouraged by his parents; who were far from giving into the preposterous fondness of many who, by a false tenderness, too often make themselves the spiritual, and sometimes also the corporal murderers of their offspring. Stanislas being sent to school, by his progress in learning surpassed the expectation and even wishes of his friends: yet was always more careful to advance in piety. He had no relish for superfluous amusements; the time allowed for recreation he abridged as much as health would permit, and the money which was given him for his pocket was always secretly employed in relieving the poor. When grown up, he was sent to pursue his studies at Gnesna, the first university in the kingdom, and thence to Paris. His mildness, modesty, simplicity, and candor, joined with his capacity for learning, gained him everywhere as many friends and admirers as he had masters and acquaintance. After seven years spent in the schools of canon-law and divinity at Paris, refusing, out of humility, the degree of doctor, which was offered him, he returned home; and, upon the demise of his parents, disposed of his plentiful fortune in favor of the poor. He received the holy order of priesthood from the hands of Lampert Zula, bishop of Cracow, and was by him made canon of his cathedral, and soon after his preacher and vicar-general. His assiduous sermons, animated by the Spirit of God, with which he was replenished, and supported by the example and sanctity of his life, produced a wonderful reformation of manners, and inspired many with a contempt of the world to follow Christ. Both clergy and laity had recourse to his advice in all spiritual concerns from every part of the kingdom: and his diocesan, desirous of having him for his successor, made an offer to resign to him his bishopric; but the saint’s opposition proved a bar not to be moved. However, upon the death of Lampert, he found himself unable to withstand the united votes of the king, clergy, and people, seconded by an express order they had obtained from pope Alexander H., for complying with their choice. Wherefore, not to resist the voice and will of heaven, he obeyed, and was consecrated bishop in 1072. This see, which had been formerly metropolitical, had at that time lost its archiepiscopal prerogative.

Stanislas, seeing himself vested with the character of a successor of the apostles, studied to be such in his spirit and manners. His house was always crowded with poor, and he kept a list of all the widows and distressed persons. He was indefatigable in his functions, especially preaching, and scarce knew how to set bounds to his mortification and the exercises of prayer. He visited his whole diocese every year, and no irregularity whether in clergy or laity, could pass unobserved by him. Boleslas II. was then king of Poland. This prince sullied the glory of his victories (having had great success against the Russians) by his unbridled lust and debaucheries, and by horrid acts of tyranny and injustice, which procured him the surname of the Cruel. Though married, he was not ashamed to offer violence to several ladies of quality: and from private crimes broke at last into the most public and brutish extravagances. Those who approached him durst not make him proper remonstrances: such was the dread of his fury. Stanislas, however, boldly laid before him in private the scandal and enormity of his conduct. The king endeavored at first to extenuate his guilt, and when pressed closer by the saint, made some show of repentance. But whatever impression his remonstrances might make upon his mind, it seen wore off, and the king fell into his usual disorders, and began to express his aversion against the good bishop, and to complain of his boldness; neither were flatterers wanting to inflame his resentment. The prince carried off, and kept by violence, a very beautiful woman, wife of Miecislas, a gentleman in the palatinate of Sirad, and had by her several children. The archbishop of Gnesna, and others of the episcopal order that had free access to the king’s person, were hereupon solicited by the nobility to carry their complaints to the king, and lay before him the enormity of his crime; but the fear of offending their sovereign stopped their mouths: and this their silence was construed by the people in no other light than that of a mercenary connivance. Stanislas was the only person that had the courage requisite to discharge this duty. Having accordingly recommended the success of the affair to God, he went to court at the head of several gentlemen and ecclesiastics, and once more conjured the king, upon the most pressing considerations, to put an end to his enormous and scandalous disorders. He concluded his remonstrance with telling him, that if he persisted in his crimes, he ran the risk of being cut off from the communion of the faithful by the sentence of excommunication. This threw the king into a violent rage, who, regarding the saint’s charitable expostulation as an insult not to be borne, gave a free loose to his passion, and vowed revenge. He had first recourse to calumnies. The saint having purchased, some years before, an estate of one Peter, a gentleman of Piotrawin, who was since dead, and settled it upon his church, the nephews of the deceased were inveigled to accuse the bishop, contrary to truth, that he had never paid for the premises. The cause was pleaded before the king, and the witnesses of the payment durst not appear, having been privately intimidated by the king’s agents. The Polish historians of later ages relate, that the saint, after three days spent in fasting and prayer, went, accompanied with his clergy, to the church of Piotrawin, which is in the palatinate of Lublin, and causing the grave to be opened, raised Peter to life, and brought him into open court, where he declared before the king and the assembly that the land was bought and paid for by Stanislas; after which, being led back to his grave, he again returned to his former state.

After this trial, the king seemed reconciled with the saint; but the succeeding acts of cruelty which he exercised upon his subjects, to whom he became a more inhuman tyrant than he had been even to his conquered enemies at Kijow in Russia, stirred up again the zeal of the holy pastor and when he could not be admitted into the king’s presence, he zealously applied himself to fastings, tears, and prayers for his conversion. Seeing no remedy applied to the evils he deplored, he made the king a third visit, and endeavored to open his eyes. But the prince, like a mad and desperate patient, who looks upon the physician that comes to cure him as his greatest enemy, threatened the saint with instant death if he continued to disturb him. Stanislas still thought it his duty not to abandon his trust, and left nothing untried to compass his charitable ends; but finding all measures ineffectual, he, after a fourth visit, excommunicated him. And having left orders with the canons of the cathedral to break off the church-office in case the king, in defiance of the censure, should attempt to enter the church while the service was performing, he left the city and retired to St. Michael’s, a small chapel at a little distance from Cracow. Thither the king followed him with his guards, whom he ordered to massacre him on the spot; but going into the chapel with this intent, they were struck with such a respect and dread at the presence of the venerable bishop, that they durst not attempt it, telling the king that a great light from heaven had affrighted them, and prevented their executing his orders. The like happened to a second and a third troop: upon which the king went in himself to animate them to perpetrate the murder. Yet no one durst strike the man of God, till the king himself, calling them base cowards, rushed forward and dispatched him with his own hand. Then his life-guards fell on, and cut the martyr’s body into pieces, which they scattered about the fields to be devoured by beasts and birds of prey. But eagles are said to have defended them, till the canons of his cathedral, three days after, gathered them together, and privately buried them before the door of the chapel in which he was martyred. Ten years after the body was translated into the cathedral in Cracow, in 1088, and honored with innumerable miracles. The barbarous king forbade all marks of sorrow or mourning for his death. Pope Gregory VII. excommunicated the tyrant and all his accomplices in this sacrilegious act, and the unhappy prince, tormented with the rack of his own conscience, and seeing himself detested by all his subjects, fled out of Poland into Hungary, and there perished miserably, some say by becoming his own executioner. Stanislas was crowned on the 8th of May, 1079. He was solemnly canonized by Innocent IV. in 1253.

Many, like this unhappy prince, employ the first part of their lives to render the other miserable. Those who in their youth imbibe the maxims of the world, and regulate their minds and conduct by them, plunge themselves into an abyss of the most fatal errors and dreadful miseries. By indulging pride, self-love, and spiritual sloth, they suffer their passions soon to grow rebellious, and when they become enslaved to them, fall into so strange a spiritual blindness as to be no longer governed by the light of reason or faith. How carefully are we bound to guard our heart even in our tender youth, that it may be a constant source of innocence and happiness! Who will discover to us all the illusions of our passions! all the snares they lay for us? We must watch these domestic enemies, and observe all their motions. In all our undertakings we must narrowly examine our own hearts, and ask them if some passion does not secretly steal into our souls, and seek some by-interest in what we do. We must particularly suspect whatever seems to lean towards our darling or ruling passions. These especially deceive us under a thousand disguises. Those which we mistrust most, put on the appearance of those against which we are less upon our guard. It is by this watchfulness to discover and curb their first irregular motions, by habitual self-denial and assiduous prayer, that we shall purify and cultivate our hearts, and keep our enemies under due restraint, which is the victory of virtue.

MAY 7 — ST. BENEDICT II., POPE, C

He was a native of Rome, and having been brought up from his infancy in the service of the church, was well skilled in the holy scriptures, and in the ecclesiastical chanting, or church music, of which he was a devout admirer. To sing assiduously the divine praises on earth is a kind of novitiate to the state of the blessed in heaven, and an employment the most sweet and comfortable to a soul that truly loves God.* Benedict was always humble meek, patient, mortified, a lover of poverty, and most generous to the poor. Being ordained priest, he had a share in the government of the Romish church under the pontificates of Agatho and Leo II. Benedict was chosen pope upon the death of the latter, in 683, but to obtain the emperor’s consent, it was necessary to wait almost a year, till the return of messengers sent to Constantinople. On which account the see remained vacant all that time, and Benedict was only ordained on the 26th of June, 684. The emperor Constans II., grandson to Heraclius, had endeavored to establish in the East the Monothelite heresy during an uneasy reign of twenty-six years: but being slain by an Armenian servant at Syracusa in Sicily, in 668, his son Constantine Pogonatus, or the Bearded, ascended the throne, and put to death the man who had murdered his father, and who had been saluted emperor by the army in Sicily. Constantine was a most religious and orthodox prince, and reigned seventeen years with great glory. He concurred with pope Agatho in assembling the sixth general council at Constantinople, in 680. Pope Leo II. sent the decrees of the synod into Spain. After his decease Benedict II. pursued the same affair, and the Spanish bishops, in a council at Toledo, approved and received the definition of faith published by the sixth general council. They dispatched to the pope a copy of their decree and confession of faith with their subscriptions annexed, wherein they acknowledge two wills in Christ. Pope Benedict, however, observed in their confession certain obscure expressions, of which he desired a clearer explanation. For this purpose the fifteenth council of Toledo was held, in which they were expounded in a sense entirely orthodox. The bishops of Rome were anciently chosen by the clergy and people of Rome, according to the discipline of those times; the Christian emperors were the head of the people, on which account their consent was required. But while they resided in the East, this condition produced often long delays and considerable inconveniences. Pope Benedict represented this to Constantine, and that pious prince readily passed a law addressed to the clergy, the people, and the army at Rome, allowing that the person by them elected should be forthwith ordained, as Anastasius relates: nevertheless, some emperors still required to be consulted. Such was the veneration of this good prince for the holy pope Benedict, that he sent to him a lock of the hair of his two sons, Justinian and Heraclius, as a token of their adoption by him, according to the custom of those times. This religious emperor overcame the Saracens in a war of seven years’ continuance both by sea and land; he recovered from them several provinces, and obliged them to pay him an annual tribute. He died in peace, in 685. Pope Benedict labored much for the conversion of heretics, and in repairing and adorning churches. He did not complete eleven months in the pontificate; but filled this short term with good works. He died on the 7th of May, 686, and was buried in St. Peter’s church. See his letter, and Anastasius Biblioth. t. 6, Concil.

MAY 7 — ST. JOHN OF BEVERLEY. B. C

This illustrious saint was born at Harpham, a village in the province of the Deiri, which comprised Yorkshire, Lancashire, and the rest of the kingdom of the Northumbers, on the south side of the Tync; what lay beyond it being called Bernicia. An earnest desire of qualifying himself for the service of God drew him young into Kent, where he made great progress in learning and piety, in the famous school of St. Theodorus, the archbishop, under the direction of the holy abbot Adrian.1 Afterwards returning into his own country, he pursued the exercises of piety in the monastery of men under St. Hilda, at Whitby; till in the beginning of the reign of king Alfred, upon the death of Eata, he was made bishop of Hagulstad, or Hexam. What time he had to spare from his functions he consecrated to heavenly contemplation; retiring for that purpose into the churchyard of St. Michael’s, beyond the river Tyne, about a mile and a half from Hagulstad, especially during the forty days of Lent. He was accustomed to take with him some poor person, whom he served during that time. Once in the beginning of a Lent, he took with him a dumb youth, who never had been able to utter one word, and whose head was covered with hideous scabs and scales, without any hair. The saint caused a mansion to be built for this sick youth within his enclosure, and often admitted him into his own cell. On the second Sunday he made the sign of the cross upon his tongue, and loosed it. Then he taught him to say Gea, which signifies in Saxon Yea, or Yes; then the letters of the alphabet, A, B, C, and afterwards syllables and words. Thus the youth miraculously obtained his speech. Moreover, by the saint’s blessing the remedies prescribed by a physician whom he employed, his head was entirely healed, and became covered with hair. When St. Wilfred returned from banishment, St. John yielded up to him the see of Hagulstad: but some time after, upon the death of Bosa, a man of great sanctity and humility, as Bede testifies, he was placed in the archiepiscopal chair of York. Venerable Bede, who received the holy orders of deacon and priest at his hands, gives ample testimony to his sanctity; and relates the instantaneous cure of the sick wife of a neighboring thane or lord, by holy water, and several other miracles performed by him, from the testimony of Bercthun, abbot of Beverley, and Herebald, abbot of Tinmouth, who had been eye-witnesses to several of them. St. John made frequent retirement his delight, to renew thereby his spirit of devotion, lest the dissipation of exterior employs should extinguish it. He chose for his retreat a monastery which he had built at Beverley, then a forest, now a market-town twenty-seven miles from York. This monastery, according to the custom of those times, he erected for the use of both sexes, and put it under the goverment of his disciple, Bercthun, or Brithun, first abbot of Beverley, then called Endeirwood, or wood of the Deiri. In 717, being much broken with age and fatigues, he resigned his bishopric to his chaplain, St. Wilfrid the younger, and having ordained him bishop of York, he retired to Beverley where he spent the remaining four years of his life in the punctual performance of all monastic duties. He died there the death of the just, on the 7th of May, 721. His successor governed the see of York fifteen years, was a great lover of the beauty of God’s house, and is named among the saints, April the 29th. The monastery of Beverley having been destroyed by the Danes, king Athelstan, who had obtained a great victory over the Scots by the intercession of St. John, founded in his honor, in the same place, a rich collegiate church of canons.2 King Henry V. attributed to the intercession of this saint the glorious victory of Agincourt, on which occasion a synod, in 1416, ordered his festival to be solemnly kept over all England. Henschenius the Bollandist, in the second tome of May, has published four books of the miracles wrought at the relics of Saint John of Beverley, written by eye-witnesses.3 His sacred bones were honorably translated into the church by Alfric, archbishop of York, in 1037: a feast in honor of which translation was kept at York on the 25th of October. On the 13th of September, (not the 24th, as Mr. Stevens says,) in 1664, the sexton, digging a grave in the church of Beverley, discovered a vault of freestone, in which was a box of lead, containing several pieces of bones, with some dust, yielding a sweet smell; with inscriptions, by which it appeared that these were the mortal remains of St. John of Beverley, as we read in Dugdale’s History of the Collegiate Church of Beverley, who has transcribed them, p. 57. These relics had been hid in the beginning of the reign of king Edward VI. Dugdale and Stevens testify, that they were all reinterred in the middle-alley of the same church. Alcuin* had an extraordinary devotion to St. John of Beverley, and in his poem on the saints of York, published by Thomas Gale gives a long history of the miracles wrought by him from verse 1085 to 1215. Rabanus Maurus has placed Alcuin in his Martyrology on the 19th of May, and Henschenius on that day gives his life, and mentions several private Martyrologies in which his name is found, though he has never been anywhere honored in the office of the church.4 On St. John of Beverley see Bede, Hist.1. 5, c. 2, &c., his life compiled by Folcard, monk of Canterbury, published by Henschenius, with other monuments, t. 2, Maij, p. 168, F. Edw. Maihew, &c.

MAY 8 — THE APPARITION OF ST. MICHAEL THE ARCHANGEL

Almighty God displayeth the riches of his goodness, power, and glory in the production of his creatures; and in them he manifesteth his own perfections. The whole world is as it were one great temple, where the divine presence shines, as it did in the Jewish at the time of its dedication, in a visible glory. We owe to him a tribute of praise and thanksgiving for all his works, but more particularly for the noble and pure intelligences on whom he has stamped his own spiritual image in a more perfect manner. He hath enriched them with the treasures of his grace, and of spotless sanctity, and hath made them the immortal and blessed inhabitants of his heavenly kingdom. They are, by the perfection of their nature, superior to man,1 who seems to hold the lowest rank in the scale of rational beings, and to be the link between the spiritual and material world; he being, by his body, allied to matter, and his soul to the celestial intelligences. He is therefore in natural perfections essentially inferior and subordinate to those pure spirits; nevertheless, in grace he may surpass them; and the church assures us, that the Blessed Virgin transcends their highest Orders. Upon their creation, God placed them in a state of meriting; and, while Lucifer and his adherents fell by pride, and were changed into devils, the good spirits, persevering in justice, were confirmed in grace, and crowned with glory.

It is manifest, from the holy scriptures, that God is pleased to make frequent use of the ministry of the heavenly spirits in the dispensations of his providence in this world, and especially towards man. Hence the name of Angel (which is not properly a denomination of nature, but office) has been appropriated to them, especially to a certain order among them. The fathers, from the sacred oracles, distinguish nine orders of these holy spirits namely, the Seraphims, Cherubims, and Thrones; Dominations, Principalities, and Powers; Virtues, Archangels, and Angels.2 Though many think that the apostle hath not enumerated all the ranks of those noble beings.3 St. Gregory the Great,4 and the ancient author of the book, On the Celestial Hierarchy, commonly ascribed to St Dionysius the Areopagite, divide these nine orders into three hierarchies, and each of these again into three ranks. Each order among them hath its characteristical perfections and functions, by which the spirits which compose it, in a particular manner, set forth and glorify some attribute of the Deity: one, his supreme dominion and power, another his strength; the Cherubims his omniscience or boundless knowledge, the Seraphims his infinite love. Archangels are those spirits whom God makes his ambassadors in the execution of his greatest designs. The angels he employs in his ordinary dispensations to men. Their numbers are exceeding great, they being represented in scripture by thousands of thousands, and ten thousand times ten thousand: and it is written in the book of Job, Is there any numbering of his soldiers?5 These numberless armies of glorious spirits are the bright ornament of the heavenly Jerusalem. They are called by St. Clemens of Alexandria,6 The first-begotten of God. And by St. Sophronius,7 The living images and representatives of God. As a skilful architect, he polishes more those stones which he destines to a more noble rank, and to more excellent purposes.

The angels are all pure spirits;8 that is, they are uncompounded immaterial substances, or subsisting simple beings, which have no parts, as bodies and matter have. In them nothing is to be found of color, shape, extension, or any other qualities of matter. They are by a property of their nature, immortal, as every spirit is. For a simple entity, or what has no parts, can only perish by annihilation, which is a supernatural act of divine omnipotence, no less than creation. On the contrary, a body being compounded of parts, is naturally mortal; being obnoxious to continual vicissitudes, and liable to perish by a separation or dissolution of its parts. Hence the bodies of the elect, after the general resurrection, will be immortal only by a gift of grace. As in their nature, so in its properties and appendices, do the angels surpass inferior creatures. Their subtilty, quickness of penetration, extensive knowledge and science in natural things, are undoubtedly perfect in proportion to the excellency of their beings, inasmuch as they are pure intelligences. It is no less certain that they enjoy the faculty of communicating to each other their thoughts and conceptions, which St. Paul calls the tongues of angels. Their discourse can only be intellectual, as Theodoret observes,9 but must on that account be the more perfect. The prophets frequently express it as a peculiar and distinguishing property of God alone, that he is the searcher of hearts; so that his all-seeing eye always penetrates into their most hidden recesses, and no creature can conceal any thing from Him, before whom all things are light. In what manner the angels communicate their thoughts or understand those of others, we are not able clearly to determine. St. Thomas and divines usually teach, with St. Gregory,10 that God speaks to his angels by interiorly discovering to them his will, and by inspiring them with a sweet inclination to execute all his orders; and that these pure spirits speak to one another by the interior desire or will of communicating their thoughts and sentiments. By whatever means the angels understand the language of their fellow-spirits, by the like they may hear the desires of a human soul, such at least as are addressed to them, or which it concerns them to know. Our guardian angels may in an instant convey or intimate our concerns to spirits that are remote; and God also can immediately reveal our thoughts when he pleases to them. That they know our concerns, and by charity interest themselves in them, is certain, or there could not be joy in heaven, and before the angels of God over one sinner doing penance.11 Even devils can suggest to our minds evil thoughts, paint in the imagination dangerous objects, frequently see the consent of the human heart, and accuse men at the divine tribunal. That spirits have a natural power of exerting their agency on bodies, is proved from several instances in holy writ, not only of good angels, but also of devils, when God doth not restrain their natural strength. Evil spirits slew the seven first incontinent husbands of Sara, hurled the swine into the lake, and carried Christ in the air. Angels have the power of moving or conveying themselves from place to place; in which they are swift even as our thought: and such is their activity, that it is not easy for us to conceive it. If light comes from the sun to our eye in seven minutes, it must travel 200,000 miles in a second. Yet this is corporal motion, which essentially requires succession of time. But the motion of a spirit, from the highest heaven to the lowest point in the universe, is instantaneous.12

This is an imperfect abstract of what divines deliver from the oracles of holy writ, concerning the nature and properties of the good spirits. But unspeakably more transcendent and more admirable are the noble spiritual endowments of grace, and the riches of immortal glory, with which they are adorned. They are the spotless ministers, who approach nearest to the throne of God; and, in the contemplation of his infinite beauty, and incomprehensible perfections, drink plentifully of the fountain of his holy joy and love; pouring forth, with all their strength, without intermission, to eternity, a perfect spiritual homage of profound adoration and praise, to the glory of his holy name. Though in this imperfect state of human nature we can have but very weak notions of the transcendent powers and faculties of superior spiritual beings, revelation has, in part, supplied the defect, and drawn aside the veil, letting us into some knowledge of this immaterial world of spirits. The holy scripture accordingly admonishes us to watch and stand upon our guard against the malice and snares of the wicked apostate spirits, who, by their evil suggestions, endeavor to seduce and draw us into sin. It also assures us, that the good angels are often employed by God in ministering to us, and that they frequently lend us their friendly succors. It further informs us, that when the material curtain of our body, which at present hides from our eyes the invisible spiritual world, shall be rent asunder, immediately a sudden torrent of light will break in upon us, and we shall see ourselves in the midst of those bright legions. The wicked indeed shall find themselves in darkness, under the arrest and tyranny of the accursed spirits, which were here their tempters, and will be hereafter their tormentors, and their companions in unquenchable flames. But a guard of holy angels will conduct the soul of every just man, like Lazarus, to the abodes of light, and it shall be associated to the millions of millions of happy spirits, being itself a kindred spirit.

Among the holy archange’s, three are particularly distinguished in holy writ: SS. Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael.* St. Michael, whom the church honors this day, was the prince of the faithful angels who opposed Lucifer and his associates in their revolt against God. Michael, in Hebrew. signifies, Who is like God? This was, as it were, his motto, when by humility he repressed the pride of that apostate ange1,13 and set up the standard against him. He continues to protect the saints from his assaults. When the body of Moses was ordered to be secretly buried, lest it should prove an occasion of idolatry or superstition to the Jews, who had been accustomed to see the superstitious practices of the Egyptians towards their dead princes and friends, the devil attempted to prevent the execution of the divine order, that he might insult the body, or make it an object of the people’s sin. But St. Michael checked his insolence, not commanding him in his own name, but with humility, intimating to him the command of God to desist.14 As the devil is the sworn enemy of God’s holy church, St. Michael is its special protector against his assaults and stratagems: in this quality he was the defender of the Jewish synagogue, as is gathered from Danie1,15 and Zachary,16 and it appears from the most ancient books of the Rabbins, that he was always acknowledged such by the Hebrews; who even think he was the angel that conducted them into the promised land, and was the instrument or minister of God in giving them the law, and in other signal favors. This holy archangel has ever been honored in the Christian church, under the same title as her guardian under God, and as the protector of the faithful; for God is pleased to employ the zeal and charity of the good angels and their leader against the malice of the devil. To thank his adorable goodness for this benefit of his merciful providence, is this festival instituted by the church in honor of the good angels: in which devotion she has been encouraged by several apparitions of this glorious archangel. Among others it is recorded, that St. Michael, in a vision, admonished the bishop of Siponto to build a church in his honor on mount Gargano, now called Monte-de-Sant-Angelo, in the Capitanate, near Manfredonia, in the kingdom of Naples. This history is confirmed by Sigebert in his chronicle, and by the ancient tradition of the churches of that country,* and is approved authentic by the judicious critic Mabillon, who visited those places, and examined the records and monuments.17 This church was erected in the fifth century, and is a place of great devotion. When the emperor Otho III. had, contrary to his word, put to death, for rebellion, Crescentius, a Roman senator; being touched with remorse, he cast himself at the feet of St. Romuald, who, in satisfaction for his crime, enjoined him to walk barefoot, on a penitential pilgrimage, to St. Michael’s on mount Gargano: which penance he performed in 1002, as St. Peter Damian relates. In France, Aubert, bishop of Avranches, moved, it is said, by certain visions, built, in 708, a church in honor of St. Michael, on a barren rock which hangs over the sea, between Normandy and Brittany. In the tenth age this collegiate church was changed into a great Benedictin abbey. In imitation of this was the famous church of St. Michael refounded in Cornwall, in the reign of William the Conqueror, by William, earl of Moreton, on a mountain which the tide encompasses. It is said by Borlace, the learned and accurate antiquarian of Cornwall, that this church of St. Michael was first built in the fifth century. The Greeks mention, in their Menæa, a famous apparition of St. Michael at Chone, the ancient Colossæ in Phrygia. Many apparitions of good angels in favor of men are recorded, both in the Old and New Testament. It is mentioned in particular of this special guardian and protector of the church, that, in the persecution of Antichrist, he will powerfully stand up in her defence: At that time shall Michael rise up, the great prince, who standeth for the children of thy people.18 He is not only the protector of the church, but of every faithful soul. He defeated the devil by humility: we are enlisted in the same warfare. His arms were humility and ardent love of God; the same must be our weapons. We ought to regard this archangel as our leader under God: and, courageously resisting the devil in all his assaults, to cry out: Who can be compared to God? On the Good Angels, see more? September 29, and October 2.

MAY 8 — ST. PETER, ARCHBISHOP OF TARENTAISE, NOW CALLED MONSTIERS, IN SAVOY

He was a native of Dauphiné. A strong inclination to learning, assisted by a good genius and a happy memory, carried him very successfully through his studies. At twenty years of age he took the Cistercian habit at Bonnevaux, a monastery that had been lately filled by a colony sent by St. Bernard from Clairvaux. They employed a great part of the day in hewing wood, and tilling the ground in the forest, in perpetual silence and interior prayer. They ate but once a day, and their fare was herbs or roots, mostly turnips of a coarse sort. Four hours in the twenty-four was the usual allowance for sleep; so that, rising at midnight, they continued in the church till it was morning, and returned no more to rest: which was the primitive custom of that order. Peter practised the greatest austerities with fervor and alacrity: he was most exactly obedient, obliging to all, humble, and modest. His pious parents, after the birth of four children, lived in perpetual continency, and the practice of rigorous abstinence, prayed much, and gave large alms: their house they seemed to turn into a hospital, so great was the number of poor and strangers they constantly entertained, whom they furnished with good beds, while they themselves often lay on straw. The father and his two other sons at length followed Peter to Bonnevaux, and the mother and daughter embraced the same order in a neighboring nunnery. The year after Peter had taken the monastic habit, his example was followed by Amedeus, nearly related to the emperor Conrad III., and sixteen other persons of worth and distinction. Amedeus, indeed, having there made his solemn profession with the rest, by the advice of persons of great virtue and discretion, spent some time at Cluni, the better to superintend his son’s education, in the school established there for the education of youth: but he returned after some time to Bonnevaux; and made it his request, at his readmission, that he might be enjoined the lowest offices in the house. To this the abbot, for his greater advancement in humility and penance, consented. The earl of Albion, his uncle, coming one day to see him, found him in a sweat, cleaning the monks’ dirty shoes, and, at the same time, so attentive to his prayers, as not to perceive him. The earl remembering in what state he had seen him in the world, was so struck and so much edified at this spectacle, that he ever after retained the deep impression which it made on his mind, and published it at court. Amedeus built four monasteries of his order: among which was that of Tamies, of Stomedium, in the desert mountains of the diocese of Tarentaise, of which he procured his intimate friend St. Peter, not then quite thirty years of age, to be appointed the first abbot, in 1128. Amedeus worked himself with his spade and mattock in building some of these monasteries, and died at Bonnevaux, in the odor of sanctity, in 1140. His son Amedeus, for whose education in piety he had always the greatest concern, after having spent part of his youth in the court of his kinsman the emperor, became a Cistercian monk under St. Bernard, at Clairvaux, and died bishop of Lausanne.

The monastery of Tamies seemed a house of terrestrial angels; so constantly were its inhabitants occupied in the employment of angels, paying to God an uninterrupted homage of praise, adoration, and love. St. Peter, by the help of Amedeus III., count of Savoy, founded in it a hospital to receive all the poor sick persons of the country, and all strangers; and would be himself its servant to attend them. In 1142, the count of Savoy procured his election to the archbishopric of Tarentaise, and he was compelled by St. Bernard and the general chapter of his order, though much against his own inclinations, to accept of that charge. Indeed, that diocese stood extremely in need of such an apostolic pastor, having been usurped by a powerful ambitious wolf, named Idrael, whose deposition left it in the most desolate condition. The parish-churches and tithes were sacrilegiously held by laymen; and the clergy, who ought to have stemmed the torrent of iniquity, contributed but too often to promote irregularity by their own wicked example. The sight of these evils drew tears from the eyes of the saint, with which he night and day implored the divine mercy upon the souls intrusted to his care. He directed all his fasts, his prayers, and labors, for the good of his flock: being persuaded that the sanctification of the people committed to his charge was an essential condition for securing his own salvation. He altered nothing in the simplicity of a monastic life, and looked on the episcopal character as a laborious employment rather than a dignity. His clothes were plain, and his food coarse; for he ate nothing but brown bread, herbs, and pulse, of which the poor had always their share. He made the constant visitation of his diocese his employ; he everywhere exhorted and instructed his whole charge with unwearied zeal and invincible patience, and besides, he provided the several parishes of his diocese with able and virtuous pastors. When he came to his bishopric, he found the chapter of his cathedral full of irregularities, and the service of God performed in a very careless manner; but he soon made that church a pattern of good order and devotion. He recovered the tithes and other revenues of the church that had been usurped by certain powerful laymen; made many excellent foundations for the education of youth, and the relief of the poor; repaired several churches, and restored everywhere devotion and the decent service of God. The author of his life. who was the constant companion of his labors, and the witness of the greatest part of his actions after he was made bishop, assures us he wrought many miracles in several places, chiefly in curing the sick, and multiplying provisions for the poor in times of great distress; so that he was regarded as a new Thaumaturgus. The confusion his humility suffered from the honors he received, joined to his love of solitude, made him resolve to retire from the world; and accordingly, in 1155, after he had borne the weight of the episcopal character thirteen years, having settled his diocese in good order, he disappeared on a sudden; and made his way to a retired monastery of Cistercians in Germany, where he was not known. In the mean time, his family and diocese mourned for the loss of their tender father. Strict inquiry was made in all the neighboring provinces, especially in the monasteries, but in vain; till, after some time, divine providence discovered him by the following accident. A young man, who had been brought up under his care, came to the monastery in which he lay concealed, and upon observing the monks as they were going out of the church to their work, he know his bishop, and made him known to the whole community. The religious no sooner understood who he was, but they all fell at his feet, begged his blessing, and expressed much concern for not having known him before. The saint was inconsolable at being discovered, and was meditating a new escape, but he was so carefully watched, that it was not in his power; so that he was forced to go back to his diocese, where he was received with the greatest demonstrations of joy. He applied himself to his functions with greater vigor than ever. The poor were always the object of his peculiar care. He was twice discovered to have given away, with the hazard of his own life, in extreme cold weather in winter, the waistcoat which he had on his back. For three months before the harvest he distributed general alms among all the inhabitants of the mountains, provisions being always very scarce there at that season. He founded hospitals on the Alps, for the entertainment of poor travellers; because, before that time, many perished for the want of such a succor. To preserve in his heart the spirit of devotion and penance, he continued to practise, as much as possible, all the austerities and other rules of his order, only commuting manual labor for the spiritual functions of his charge. By his conversation with the God of peace, he imbibed an eminent spirit of that virtue, and learned, by humility and charity, to be truly the man of peace; having also a singular talent for extinguishing the most implacable and inveterate enemies. He often reconciled sovereign princes when they were at variance, and prevented several bloody wars. The emperor Frederic I. set up Octavian, a schismatical pope, under the name of Victor, against Alexander III. St. Peter was almost the only subject of the empire who had the courage openly to oppose his unjust attempt, and he boldly defended the cause of justice in presence of the tyrant, and in many councils. The emperor, who banished others that spoke in favor of that cause, stood in awe of his sanctity: and Peter, by his mild counsels, frequently softened his fierceness, and checked the boisterous sallies of his fury, while, like a roaring lion, he spread terror on every side. The saint preached in Alsace, Burgundy, Lorraine, and in many parts of Italy; and confounded the obstinate by numberless miraculous cures of the sick, performed by the imposition of his hands and prayer. He was ordered by the pope to go into France and Normandy, to endeavor a reconciliation between the kings of England and France, who had made peace in 1169, but quarrelled again the next year. Though then very old, he preached wherever he went, Louis VII. sent certain gentlemen of his court to meet him at a great distance, and received him with the greatest marks of honor and respect; but honors and crowds were of all things the most troublesome to the saint. The man of God restored the use of sight to one blind in the presence of the count of Flanders, and many other noblemen, who were at that time with the king of France: who, being also himself an eye-witness, examined carefully all the circumstances, and declared the miracle to be evident and incontestable. The saint went from Paris to Chaumont, on the confines of Normandy, where Henry II., king of England, met him: and when he arrived in sight of the holy man, alighted from his horse, and coining up, fell at his feet. The people stole the cloak or hood of St. Peter, and were going to cut it in pieces to divide the scraps, being persuaded that they would perform miracles. But the king took the whole cloak for himself, saying: “I have myself seen miraculous cures performed by his girdle which I already possess.” In his presence, the saint restored the use of speech to a girl that was dumb. On Ash-Wednesday, in 1171, St. Peter being at the Cistercian abbey of Mortemer, in the diocese of Rouen, the king of England came thither with his whole court, and received ashes from his hands. The archbishop prevailed on the two kings to put an end to their differences by a treaty of peace, and to procure councils to be assembled in their dominions, in which Alexander’s title should be solemnly recognised. The holy man hereupon returned to his church, but was some time after sent again by the pope to the king of England, to endeavor to compose the difference between him and his son: but his journey had not the desired effect. He fell sick on his return, and died the death of the just, at Bellevaux, a monastery of his order, in the diocese of Besançon, in 1174, being seventy-three years old. He was canonized by pope Celestine III., in 1191. See his life, written nine years after his death by Geoffrey, some time his companion, and afterwards abbot of Hautecombe, by the order of pope Lucius III. See also Le Nain, t. 2, p. 83.

MAY 8 — ST. VICTOR, AN ILLUSTRIOUS MARTYR AT MILAN

St. Ambrose speaks of him,1 and St. Gregory of Tours2 mentions his tomb famed for miracles. He served in the armies of Maximian, and by his order was tortured on the rack, and at length beheaded at Milan, in 303. His celebrated church at Milan is now in the hands of the Olivetan monks by whom it was rebuilt in a most sumptuous manner and in a finished taste, when St. Charles performed the dedication of it, and the solemn translation of the martyr’s relics. See the Bollandists.

MAY 8 — ST. WIRO

A Holy Irish bishop, who travelled to Rome with St. Plechelm, and the deacon Otger. He alterwards preached the faith of Christ to the pagans in the Low Countries. Prince Pepin of Herstal was a great admirer of his sanctity, and bestowed on him a lonely wood, called the Mount of St. Peter, now of St. Odilia, near the river Roer, one league from Ruremund; and repaired to him often barefoot to confess his sins. Broken by austerities and old age, he departed to our Lord in the seventh century. See Miræus, and his ancient life in the Bollandists, with a hymn, and several other memoirs t. 2, Maij. p. 309.

MAY 8 — ST. ODRIAN, BISHOP AND TUTELAR SAINT OF WATERFORD

Colgan was not able to discover even the time when he lived. This rich and famous city was subject to the bishop of Lismore, (which see was founded by St. Carthag, in 631,) till the Ostmen being settled here, they procured a bishop for Waterford. Malchus, a monk of Winchester, was consecrated first bishop of Waterford by St. Anselm, at Canterbury, in 1096. For the sees of Dublin, Limerick, and Waterford were subjected to the metropolitan of Canterbury during the eleventh and twelfth centuries, while the Ostmen were masters in those cities. The sees of Waterford and Lismore have been united since the year 1363. See Ware’s Irish Bishops p. 533.

MAY 8 — ST. GYBRIAN, OR GOBRIAN, PRIEST

He left Ireland in quest of a retreat, and led many years a penitential, contemplative life, in a poor cell which he built near the river Marne, in the territory of Challons, where he assembled a small community of fervent servants of God, and another at some distance, of holy virgins. He died very old, in the eighth century. Many miraculous cures of sick persons at his tomb, and by his intercession, gave occasion to a chapel being built over his tomb. By an order of Fulk, archbishop of Rheims, his body was translated thither about the year 890. It is deposited there in the great church of the abbey of St. Remigius. See Molanus, Aussaye, and Colgan, in MSS. ad 8 Maij.

MAY 9 — ST. GREGORY NAZIANZEN, B. C. DOCTOR OF THE CHURCH

From his own works, and other monuments of that age. See Gregory of Cæsarea, who wrote his life to 940. Hermant, Tillemont, t. 9. Ceillier, t. 7; also the life of this saint compiled from his works by Baronins, published by Alberici, in an appendix to the life and letters of that cardinal, in 1759. t. 2

A. D. 389.

ST. GREGORY, who, from his profound skill in sacred learning, is surnamed the Theologian, was a native of Arianzum, an obscure village in the territory of Nazianzum, a small town in Cappadocia, not far from Cæsarea. His parents are both honored in the calendars of the church: his father on the 1st of January, and his mother, Nonna, on the 5th of August. She drew down the blessing of heaven upon her family by most bountiful and continual alms-deeds, in which she knew one of the greatest advantages of riches to consist: yet, to satisfy the obligation of justice which she owed to her children, she, by her prudent economy, improved at the same time their patrimony. The greatest part of her time she devoted to holy prayer; and her respect and attention to the least thing which regarded religion is not to be expressed. His father, whose name also was Gregory, was, from his infancy, a worshipper of false gods, but of the sect called the Hipsistarii, on account of the profession they made of adoring the Most High God; though, at the same time, they worshipped fire with the Persians, and observed the Jewish Sabbath and distinction of meats. We find no mention of them but in the writings of our saint. The prayers and tears of Nonna at length obtained of God the conversion of her husband, whose integrity in the discharge of the chief magistracy of his town, and the practice of strict moral virtue, prepared him for such a change. He was baptized at Nazianzum, about the time of the great council of Nice, having first most carefully prepared himself to receive that holy sacrament in the most fervent dispositions of piety, and to preserve the precious graces which attend it. Not very long after, the sanctity of his life raised him to the episcopal see of Nazianzum, which he held about forty-five years, dying in 374, when he was above ninety years old.* His son has left us the most edifying detail of his humility, holy zeal, and other virtues.1 He had three children, Gorgonia, Gregory, and Cæsarius, who was the youngest. Gregory was the fruit of the most earnest prayers of his mother, who, upon his birth, offered him to God for the service of his church. His virtuous parents gave him the strongest impressions of piety in his tender age: and his chief study, from his very infancy, was to know God by the help of pious books, in the reading whereof he was very assiduous. He relates, that, in his youth, he had a mysterious dream, in which he beheld himself caressed by chastity and temperance, under the appearance of two beautiful damsels, as their child; and they invited him to go with them, on the promise of raising him up to the light of the immortal Trinity, if he would put himself under their conduct. He says, that from that time he resolved to serve God in a state of perfect continence. He writes in very strong terms of the strict obligation of vows of chastity, the violation of which he calls death, sacrilege, and perfidy:2 he is also very large oftentimes upon the excellency and advantages of that holy state.3

Having acquired grammar-learning in the schools of his own country, and being formed to piety by domestic examples, he was sent to Cæsarea, in Palestine, where the study of eloquence flourished. He pursued the same studies some time at Alexandria; and there embarked for Athens in November. The vessel was beaten by a furious storm during twenty days, without any hopes either for the ship or passengers; all which time he lay upon the deck, bemoaning the danger of his soul, on account of his not having been as yet baptized, imploring the divine mercy with many tears and loud groans, and frequently renewing his promise of devoting himself entirely to God, in case he survived the danger. God was pleased to hear his prayer: the tempest ceased, and the vessel arrived safe at Rhodes, and soon after at Ægina, an island near Athens. He had passed through Cæsarea of Cappadocia in his road to Palestine; and making some stay there to improve himself under the great masters of that city, had contracted an acquaintance with the great St. Basil, which he cultivated at Athens, whither that saint followed him soon after. The intimacy between these two saints became from that time the most perfect model of holy friendship, and nothing can be more tender than the epitaph which St. Gregory composed upon his friend Whilst they pursued their studies together, they shunned the company of those scholars who sought too much after liberty; and conversed with the diligent and virtuous. They avoided all feasting and vain entertainments: and were acquainted only with two streets, one that led to the church, and the other to the schools. Riches they despised and accounted as thorns, employing their allowance in supplying themselves with bare necessaries for an abstemious and slender subsistence, and disposing of the remainder in behalf of the poor. Envy had no place in them; sincere love made each of them esteem his companion’s honor and advantage as his own: they were to each other a mutual spur to all good, and by a holy emulation, neither of them would be outdone by the other in fasting, prayer, or the exercise of any virtue. Saint Basil left Athens first. The progress which St. Gregory made here in eloquence, philosophy, and the sacred studies, appears by the high reputation which he acquired, and by the monuments which he has left behind him. But his greatest happiness and praise was, that he always made the fear and love of God his principal affair, to which he referred his studies and all his endeavors. In 355, Julian, afterwards emperor, came to Athens, where he spent some months with St. Basil and St. Gregory, in the study of profane literature and the holy scriptures St. Gregory then prognosticated what a mischief the empire was breeding up in that monster, from the levity of his carriage, the rolling and wandering of his eyes, the fierceness of his looks, the tossings of his head, the shrugging up of his shoulders, his uneven gait, his loud and unseasonable laughter, his rash and incoherent discourse; the indications of an unsettled and arrogant mind.4 The year following our saint left Athens for Nazianzum and took Constantinople in his way. Here he found his brother Cæsarius, arrived not long before, from Alexandria, where he had accomplished himself in all the polite learning of that age, and applied himself particularly to physic. The emperor Constantius honored him with his favor, and made him his chief physician. His generosity appeared in this station by his practice of physic, even among the rich, without the inducement of either fee or reward. He was also a father to the poor, on whom he bestowed the greatest part of his income. Gregory was importuned by many to make his appearance at the bar, or at least to teach rhetoric, as that which would afford him the best means to display his talents, and raise his fortune in the world. But he answered, that he had totally devoted himself to the service of God.

The first thing he did after his return to Nazianzum was to fulfil his engagement of consecrating himself entirely to God, by receiving baptism at the hands of his father. This he did without reserve: “I have,” says he,5 “given all I have to him from whom I received it, and have taken him alone for my whole possession. I have consecrated to him my goods, my glory, my health, my tongue and talents. All the fruit I have received from these advantages has been the happiness of despising them for Christ’s sake.” From that moment, never was man more dead to ambition, riches, pleasures or reputation. He entertained no secret affection for the things of this world, but trampled under his feet all its pride and perishable goods; finding no ardor, no relish, no pleasure, but in God and in heavenly things. His diet was coarse bread, with salt and water.6 He lay upon the ground, wore nothing but what was coarse and vile. He worked hard all day, spent a considerable part of the night in singing the praises of God, or in contemplation.7 With riches he contemned also profane eloquence, on which he had bestowed so much pains, making an entire sacrifice of it to Jesus Christ. His classics and books of profane oratory he abandoned to the worms and moths.8 He regarded the greatest honors as vain dreams, which only deceive men, and dreaded the precipices down which ambition drags its inconsiderate slaves. Nothing appeared to him comparable to the life which a man leads who is dead to himself and his sensual inclinations; who lives as it were out of the world, and has no other conversation but with God.9 However, he for some time took upon him the care of his father’s household, and the management of his affairs. He was afflicted with several sharp fits of sickness caused by his extreme austerities and continual tears, which often did not suffer him to sleep.10 He rejoiced in his distempers, because in them he found the best opportunities of mortification and self-denia1.11 The immoderate laughter, which his cheerful disposition had made him subject to in his youth, was afterwards the subject of his tears. He obtained so complete a conquest over the passion of anger, as to prevent all indeliberate motions of it, and became totally indifferent in regard to all that before was most dear to him. His generous liberality to the poor made him always as destitute of earthly goods as the poorest, and his estate was common to all who were in necessity as a port is to all at sea.12 Never does there seem to have been a greater lover of retirement and silence. He laments the excesses into which talkativeness draws men, and the miserable itch that prevails in most people to become teachers of others.13

It was his most earnest desire to disengage himself from the converse of men and the world, that he might more freely enjoy that of heaven. He accordingly, in 358, joined St. Basil in the solitude into which he had retreated, situate near the river Iris in Pontus. Here watching, fasting, prayer, studying the holy scriptures, singing psalms, and manual labor, employed their whole time. As to their exposition of the divine oracles, they were guided in this, not by their own lights and particular way of thinking, but, as Rufinus writes,14 by the interpretation which the ancient fathers and doctors of the church had delivered concerning them. But this solitude Gregory enjoyed only just long enough to be enamored of its sweetness, being soon recalled back by his father, then above eighty, to assist him in the government of his flock. To draw the greater succor from him he ordained him priest by force, and when he least expected it. This was performed in the church on some great festival, and probably on Christmas day, in 361. He knew the sentiments of his son with regard to that charge, and his invincible reluctance on several accounts, which was the reason of his taking this method. The saint accordingly speaks of his ordination as a kind of tyranny which he knew not well how to digest; in which sentiments he fled into the deserts of Pontus and sought relief in the company of his dear friend St. Basil, by whom he had been lately importuned to return Many censured this his flight, ascribing it to pride, obstinacy, and the like motives. Gregory likewise himself, reflecting at leisure on his own conduct, and the punishment of the prophet Jonas for disobeying the command of God, came to a resolution to go back to Nazianzum; where, after a ten weeks’ absence, he appeared again on Easter-day, and there preached his first sermon on that great festival. This was soon after followed by another, which is extant under the title of his apology for his flight. It is placed the first among his orations on account of the importance of the subject. He treats in it principally on the great dignity, duties, and dangers of the sacerdotal office; on the sanctity requisite to approach the altar and to appear before God, the author of purity; the extreme difficulty of governing the consciences of others, and applying remedies to the different maladies of souls. He insists much on the virtue and learning necessary for the sacred functions, to answer all the exigencies of the faithful, and to confute errors. From these principles he concludes, that he had reason to tremble at the sight of such a burden, and to employ some time in preparing himself for the ministry of the altar by prayer, mortification, and holy meditation. He adds, that, fearing the terrible account which would be demanded of him for the souls committed to his care, should he refuse his labors, he like Jonas returned to the duties belonging to the station to which he was called, in hopes that obedience would support him in it, and be a means to procure him the graces necessary for this purpose.

In this discourse, St. Gregory extols the unanimity of that church in faith and their mutual concord: but towards the end of the reign of Julian, an unfortunate division happened in it, which is mentioned by the saint, in his first invective against that apostate prince.15 The bishop, his father, hoping to gain certain persons to the church by condescension, admitted a certain writing which had been drawn up by the secret favorers of Arianism in ambiguous and artful terms. This unwary condescension of the elder Gregory, gave offence to the more zealous part of his flock, and especially to the monks, who refused thereupon to communicate with him. Our saint discharged his duty so well in this critical affair, that he united the flock with their pastor, without the least concession in favor of the error of those by whom his father had been tricked into a subscription against his intention and design, his faith being entirely pure. On the occasion of this joyful reunion, our saint pronounced an elegant discourse.16 Soon after the death of Julian he composed his two invective orations against that apostate. He imitates the severity which the prophets frequently made use of in their censures of wicked kings; but his design was to defend the church against the pagans, by unmasking the injustice, impiety, and hypocrisy of its capital persecutor. The saint’s younger brother, Cæsarius, had lived in the court of Julian, highly honored by that emperor for his learning and skill in physic. St. Gregory pressed him to forsake the family of an apostate prince, in which he could not live without being betrayed into many temptations and snares.17 And so it happened: for Julian, after many caresses, assailed him by inveigling speeches and at length by a warm disputation in favor of idolatry. Cæsarius answered him, that he was a Christian, and such he was resolved always to remain. However, apprehensive of the dangers in which he lived, he soon after chose rather to resign his post, than to run the hazard of his faith and a good conscience. He therefore left the court, though the emperor endeavored earnestly to detain him. After the miserable death of the apostate, he appeared again with distinction in the courts of Jovian and Valens, and was made by the latter Comes rerum privatarum, or treasurer of the imperial rents; which office was but a step to higher dignities. In the discharge of this employment of Bithynia, he happened to be at Nice in the great earthquake, which swallowed up the chief part of that city in 368. The treasurer, with some few others, escaped, by being preserved, through a wonderful providence, in certain hollow parts of the rains. St. Gregory improved this opportunity to urge him again to quit the world and its honors, and to consecrate to God alone a life for which he was indebted to him on so many accounts.18 Cæsarius, moved by so awakening an accident, listened to this advice, and took a resolution to renounce the world: but returning home, fell sick and died in the fervor of his sacrifice, about the beginning of the year 368, leaving his whole estate to the poor.* He is named in the Roman Martyrology on the 25th of February. St. Gregory, extolling his virtue, says, that while he enjoyed the honors of the world, he looked upon the advantage of being a Christian as the first of his dignities, and the most glorious of all his titles; reckoning all the rest dross and dung. He was buried at Nazianzum, and our saint pronounced his funeral panegyric, as he also did that of his holy sister Gorgonia, who died soon after. He extols her humility, her prayer often continued whole nights with tears; her modesty, prudence, patience, resignation, zeal, respect for the ministers of God, and for holy places; her liberality to them and great charity to the poor; her penance, extraordinary care of the education of her children, &c. He mentions as miraculous, her being cured of palsy by praying at the foot of the altar; and her recovery after great wounds and bruises which she had received by a fall from her chariot.

In 372, Cappadocia was divided by the emperor into two provinces, and Tyana made the capital of that which was called the second. Anthimus, bishop of that city, pretended hence to an archiepiscopal jurisdiction over the second Cappadocia. St. Basil, the metropolitan of Cappadocia, maintained that the civil division of the province had not infringed his jurisdiction, though he afterwards, for the sake of peace, yielded the second Cappadocia to the see of Tyana. He appointed our saint bishop of Sasima, a small town in that division. Gregory stood out a long time, but at length submitted, overcome by the authority of his father and the influence of his friend. He accordingly received the episcopal consecration from the hands of St. Basil, at Cæsarea, about the middle of the year 372. But he repaired to Nazianzum to wait a favorable opportunity of taking possession of his church of Sasima, which never happened: for Anthimus, who had in his interest the new governor, and was master of all the avenues and roads to that town, would by no means admit him. Basil reproached his friend with sloth; but St. Gregory answered him that he was not disposed to fight for a church.19 He, however, charged himself with the government of that of Nazianzum under his father till his death, which happened the year following. St. Gregory pronounced his funeral panegyric in presence of St. Basil and of his mother St. Nonna, who died shortly after. Holy solitude had been the constant object of his most earnest desires, and he had only waited the death of his father, entirely to bury himself in it. Nevertheless, yielding to the importunities of others, and to the necessities of the church of Nazianzum, he consented to continue his care of it till the neighboring bishops could provide it with a pastor. But seeing this affair protracted, and finding himself afflicted with various distempers, he left that city, and withdrew to Seleucia, the metropolis of Isauria, in 375, where he continued five years. The death of St. Basil, in 379, was to him a sensible affliction, and he then composed twelve epigrams or epitaphs to his memory; and some years after pronounced his panegyric at Cæsarea, namely, in 381 or 382. The unhappy death of the persecuting emperor Valens, in 378, restored peace to the church. The Catholic pastors sought means to make up the breaches which heresy had made in many places. For this end they held several assemblies, and sent zealous and learned men into those provinces in which the tyrant had made the greatest havoc. The church of Constantinople was of all others in the most desolate and abandoned condition, having groaned during forty years under the tyranny of the Arians, and the few Catholics who remained there having been long without a pastor, and even without a church wherein to assemble. They, being well acquainted with our saint’s merit, importuned him to come to their assistance, and were backed by several bishops, desirous that his learning, eloquence, and piety might restore that church to its splendor. But such were the pleasures he enjoyed in his beloved retirement, at Seleucia, and in his thorough disengagement from the world, that, for some time, these united solicitations made little or no impression on him. They had, however, at length their desired effect. His body bent with age, his head bald, his countenance extenuated with tears and austerities, his poor garb, and his extreme poverty, made but a mean appearance at Constantinople; and no wonder that he was at first ill-received in that polite and proud city. The Arians pursued him with calumnies, railleries, and insults. The prefects and governors added their persecutions to the fury of the populace, all which concurred to acquire him the glorious title of confessor. He lodged first in the house of certain relations, where the Catholics first assembled to hear him. He soon after converted it into a church, and gave it the name of Anastasia, or the Resurrection, because the Catholic faith, which in that city had been hitherto oppressed, here seemed to be raised, as it were, from the dead. Sozomen relates that this name was confirmed to it by a miraculous raising to life of a woman then with child, who was killed by falling from a gallery in it, but returned to life by the prayers of the congregation.20 Another circumstance afterwards confirmed in this church the same name. During the reign of the emperor Leo, the Thracian, about the year 460, the body of St. Anastasia, virgin and martyr, was brought from Sirmich to Constantinople, and laid in this place, as is recorded by Theodorus the Reader.21 But this church is not to be confounded with another of the same name which was in the hands of the Novatians under Constantius and Julian the Apostate.22

In this small church, Nazianzen preached, and every day assembled his little flock, which increased daily. The Arians and Apollinarists, joined with other sects, not content to defame and calumniate him, had recourse to violence on his person. They pelted him with stones as he went along the streets, and dragged him before the civil magistrates as a malefactor, charging him with tumult and sedition. But he comforted himself on reflecting, that though they were the stronger party, he had the better cause; though they possessed the churches, God was with him; if they had the populace on their side, the angels were on his, to guard him. St. Jerom coming out of the deserts of Syria to Constantinople became the disciple and scholar of St. Gregory, and was one of those who studied the holy scriptures under him, of which that great doctor glories in his writings. Our holy pastor, being a lover of solitude, seldom went abroad or made any visits, except such as were indispensable: and the time that was not employed in the discharge of his functions he devoted to prayer and meditation, spending a considerable part of the night in those holy exercises. His diet was herbs and a little salt with bread. His cheeks were furrowed with the tears which he shed, and he daily prostrated himself before God to implore his light and mercy upon his people. His profound learning, his faculty of forming the most noble conceptions of things, and the admirable perspicuity, elegance, and propriety with which he explained them, charmed all who heard him. The Catholics flocked to his discourses, as men parching with thirst eagerly go to the spring to quench it. Heretics and pagans resorted to them, admiring his erudition, and charmed with his eloquence. The fruits of his sermons were every day sensible: his flock became in a short time very numerous, and he purged the people of that poison which had corrupted their hearts for many years. St. Gregory heard, with blushing and confusion, the applause and acclamations with which his discourses were received; and his fear of this danger made him speak in public with a certain timidity and reluctance. He scorned to flatter the great ones, and directed his discourses to explain and corroborate the Catholic faith, and reform the manners of the people. He taught them, that the way to salvation was not to be ever disputing about matters of religion, (an abuse that was grown to a great height at that time in Constantinople,) but to keep the commandments,23 to give alms, to exercise hospitality, to visit and serve the sick, to pray, sigh, and weep; to mortify the senses, repress anger, watch over the tongue, and subject the body to the spirit. The envy of the devil and of his instruments could not bear the success of his labors, and, by exciting troubles, found means to interrupt them. Maximus, a native of Alexandria, a cynic philosopher, but withal a Christian, full of the impudence and pride of that sect, came to Constantinople; and under a hypocritical exterior, disguised a heart full of envy, ambition, covetousness, and gluttony. He imposed on several, and for some time on St. Gregory himself, who pronounced an eulogium of this man, in 379, now extant under the title of the Eulogium of the Philosopher Hero; but St. Jerom assures us, that instead of Hero, we ought to read Maximus. This wolf in sheep’s clothing having gained one of the priests of the city, and some partisans among the laity, procured himself to be ordained bishop of Constantinople, in a clandestine manner, by certain Egyptian bishops who lately arrived on that intent. The irregularity of this proceeding stirred up all the world against the usurper. Pope Damascus wrote to testify his affliction on that occasion, and called the election null. The emperor Theodosius the Great, then at Thessalonica, rejected Maximus with indignation; and coming to Constantinople, proposed to Demophilus the Arian bishop, either to receive the Nicene faith, or to leave the city; and upon his preferring the latter, his majesty, embracing St. Gregory, assured him, that the Catholics of Constantinople demanded him for their bishop, and that their choice was most agreeable to his own desires. Theodosius, within a few days after his arrival, drove the Arians out of all the churches in the city, and put the saint in possession of the church of St. Sophia, upon which all the other churches of the city depended. Here the clamors of the people were so vehement that Gregory might be their bishop, that all was in confusion till the saint prevailed upon them to drop that subject, and to join in praise and thanksgiving to the ever-blessed Trinity, for restoring among them the profession of the true faith. The emperor highly commended the modesty of the saint. But a council was necessary to declare the see vacant, and the promotion of the Arian Demophilus, and of the cynic Maximus, void and null. A synod of all the East was then meeting at Constantinople, it which St. Meletius, patriarch of Antioch, presided. He being the great friend and admirer of Nazianzen, the council took his cause into consideration before all others, declared the election of Maximus null, and established St. Gregory bishop of Constantinople, without having any regard to his tears and expostulations. St. Meletius dying during the synod, St. Gregory presided in the latter sessions. To put an end to the schism between Meletius and Paulinus, at Antioch, it had been agreed that the surviver should remain in sole possession of that see. This, Nazianzen urged: but the oriental bishops were unwilling to own for patriarch one whom they had opposed. They therefore took great offence at this most just and prudent remonstrance, and entered into a conspiracy with his enemies against him. The saint, who had only consented to his election through the importunity of others, was most ready to relinquish his new dignity. This his enemies sought to deprive him of, together with his life, on which they made several attempts. Once, in particular, they hired a ruffian to assassinate him. But the villain, touched with remorse, repaired to the saint with many tears, wringing his hands, beating his breast, and confessing his black attempt, which he should have put in execution had not providence interposed. The good bishop replied: “May God forgive you: his gracious preservation obliges me freely to pardon you. Your attempt has now made you mine. Only one thing I beg of you, that you forsake your heresy, and sincerely give yourself to God.” Some warm Catholics complained of his lenity and indulgence towards the Arians, especially those who had shown themselves violent persecutors under the former reigns.

In the mean time, the bishops of Egypt and those of Macedonia arriving at the council, though all equally in the interest of Paulinus of Antioch, complained that Gregory’s election was uncanonical, it being forbidden by the canons to transfer bishops from one see to another. Nazianzen calmly answered, that those canons had lost their force by long misuse: which was most notorious in the East. Nor did they in the least regard his case; for he had never taken possession of the see of Sasima, and only governed that of Nazianzum as vicar under his father. However, seeing a great ferment among the prelates and people, he cried out in the assembly: “If my holding the see of Constantinople gives any disturbance, behold I am very willing, like Jonas, to be cast into the sea to appease the storm, though I did not raise it. If all followed my example, the church would enjoy an uninterrupted tranquillity. This dignity I never desired; I took this charge upon me much against my will. If you think fit, I am most ready to depart; and I will return back to my little cottage, that you may remain here quiet, and the church of God enjoy peace. I only desire that the see may be filled by a person that is capable and willing to defend the faith.”24 He thereupon left the assembly, overjoyed that he had broken his bands. The bishops, whom he left in surprise, but too readily accepted his resignation. The saint went from the council to the palace, and falling on his knees before the emperor, and kissing his hand, said: “I am come, sir, to ask neither riches nor honors for myself or friends, nor ornaments for the churches: but license to retire. Your majesty knows how much against my will I was placed in this chair. I displease even my friends on no other account than because I value nothing but God. I beseech you, and make this my last petition, that among your trophies and triumphs you make this the greatest, that you bring the church to unity and concord.” The emperor and those about him were astonished at such a greatness of soul, and he with much difficulty was prevailed on to give his assent. This being obtained, the saint had no more to do than to take his leave of the whole city, which he did in a pathetic discourse, delivered in the metropolitan church before the hundred and fifty fathers of the council, and an incredible multitude of people.25 He describes the condition in which he had found that church on his first coming to it, and that in which he left it; and gives to God his thanks, and the honor of the re-establishment of the Catholic faith in that city. He makes a solemn protestation of the disinterestedness of his own conduct during his late administration; not having touched any part of the revenues of the see of Constantinople the whole time. He reproaches the city with the love of shows, luxury, and magnificence, and says he was accused of too great mildness, also of a meanness of spirit from the lowly appearance he made with respect both to dress and table. He vindicates his behavior in these regards, saying: “I did not take it to be any part of my duty to vie with consuls, generals, and governors, who know not how to employ their riches otherwise than in pomp and show. Neither did I imagine, that the necessary subsistence of the poor was to be applied to the support of luxury, good cheer, a prancing horse, a sumptuous chariot, and a long train of attendants. If I have acted in another manner and have thereby given offence, the fault is already committed, and cannot be recalled; but I hope is not unpardonable.” He concludes by bidding a moving farewell to his church, to his dear Anastasia, which he calls in the language of St. Paul, his glory and his crown; to the cathedral, and all the other parishes of the city; to the holy apostles as honored in the magnificent church, (in which Constantius had placed the relics of St. Andrew, St. Luke, and St. Timothy;) to his episcopal throne, to the clergy, to the holy monks, and the other pious servants of God, to the emperor and all the court, with its jealousies, pomp, and ambition, to the East and West divided in his cause, to the tutelar angels of his church, and to the sacred Trinity honored in that place. He concludes with these words: “My dear children, preserve the depositum of faith, and remember the stones which have been thrown at me, because I planted it in your hearts.” The saint was most tenderly affected in abandoning his dear flock, his converts especially, which he had gained at his first church of Anastasia, as they bad already signalized themselves in his service by suffering persecutions with patience for his sake. They followed him weeping, and entreating him to abide with them. He was not insensible to their tears; but motives of greater weight obliged him not to regard them on this occasion. St. Gregory, seeing himself at liberty, rejoiced in his happiness, as he expressed himself some time after to a friend in these words: “What advantages have not I found in the jealousy of my enemies! They have delivered me from the fire of Sodom, by drawing me from the dangers of the episcopal charge.”26 This treatment was the recompense with which men rewarded the labors and merit of a saint, whom they ought to have sought in the remotest corners of the earth: but that city was not worthy to possess so great and holy a pastor. He had in that short time brought over the chief part of its inhabitants to the Catholic faith, as appears from his works, and from St. Ambrose.27 He had conquered the obstinacy of heretics by meekness and patience, and thought it a sufficient revenge for their former persecutions, that he had it in his power to chastise them.28 The Catholics he induced to show the same moderation towards them, and exhorted them to serve Jesus Christ by taking a Christian revenge of them, the bearing their persecutions with patience, and the overcoming evil with good.29 Besides establishing the purity of faith, he had begun a happy reformation of manners among the people; and much greater fruits were to be expected from his zealous labors. Nectarius, who succeeded him, was a soft man, and by no means equal to such a charge. For though he was a Roman senator, and prætor or governor of Constantinople, he was not only a layman, but not yet baptized when elected, and had lived incontinently: which circumstances, joined with the notorious imprudence of some of his actions, suffice to show that Socrates was too lavish in the commendations bestowed on him. “He seems also,” says Tillemont, “to have had no more the gift of speaking than a mute:” and Palladius makes the same observation on his brother Arsacius, who was intruded into the chair of St. Chrysostom. Before St. Gregory had resigned the see of Constantinople he drew up his last will and testament, which is still extant, signed by six bishops and a priest, and written according to the formalities of the Roman law. He confirms in it the donation of his estate, both real and personal, to the church and poor of Nazianzum, except some small annuities for life, which he bequeathed to certain poor friends and servants.

Before the election of Nectarius he left the city, and returned to Nazianzum. In that retirement he composed the poem on his own life, particularly dwelling on what he had done at Constantinople to obviate the scandalous slanders which were published against him. He labored to place a bishop at Nazianzum, but was hindered by the opposition of many of the clergy. Sickness obliged him to withdraw soon after to Arianzum, probably before the end of the year 381. In his solitude he testifies,30 that he regretted the absence of his friends, though he seemed insensible to every thing else of this world. To punish himself for superfluous words, (though he had never spoke to the disparagement of any neighbor,) he, in 382. passed the forty days of Lent in absolute silence. In his desert he never refused spiritual advice to any that resorted to him for it. In his parænetic poem to St. Olympias he lays down excellent rules for the conduct of married women. Among other precepts he says: “In the first place, honor God; then respect your husband as the eye of your life; for he is to direct your conduct and actions. Love only him; make him your joy and your comfort. Take care never to give him any occasion of offence or disgust. Yield to him in his anger: comfort and assist him in his pains and afflictions, speaking to him with sweetness and tenderness, and making him prudent and modest remonstrances at seasonable times. It is not by violence and strength that the keepers of lions endeavor to tame them when they see them enraged; but they sooth and caress them, stroking them gently, and speaking with a soft voice. Never let his weaknesses be the subject of your reproaches It can never be just or allowable for you to treat a person in this manner whom you ought to prefer to the whole world.” He prays that this holy woman might become the mother of many children; that there might be the more souls to sing the praises of Jesus Christ.* He often repeats this important advice, that every one begin and end every action by offering his heart and whatever he does to God by a short prayer.31 For we owe to God all that we are or have; and he accepts and rewards the smallest action, not so much with a view to its importance as to the affection of the heart, which in his poverty gives what it has, and is able to give in return for God’s benefits, and in acknowledgment of his sovereignty.

St. Gregory had been obliged to govern the vacant see of Nazianzum after the death of his father, leaving the chief care of that church to Cledonius in his absence. But in 382, he procured Eulalias to be ordained bishop of that city, and spent the remainder of his life in retirement near Arianzum; still continuing to aid that church with his advice, though at that time very old and infirm. In this private abode he had a garden, a fountain, and a shady grove, in which he took much delight. Here, in company with certain solitaries, he lived estranged from pleasures, and in the practice of bodily mortification, fasting, watching, and praying much on his knees. “I live,” says he, “among rocks and with wild beasts, never seeing any fire or using shoes; having only one single garment.32 I am the outcast and the scorn of men. I lie on straw, clad in sackcloth: my floor is always moist with the tears I shed.”33 In the decline of life he set himself to write pious poems for the edification of such among the faithful as were fond of music and poetry. He had also a mind to oppose the poems made use of by the Apollinarist heretics to propagate their errors, by such as were orthodox, useful, and religious, as the priest Gregory says in his life. He considered this exercise also as a work of penance, compositions in metre being always more difficult than those in prose. He therein recounts the history of his life and sufferings: he publishes his faults, his weaknesses, and his temptations, enlarging much more on these than on his great actions. He complains of the annoyance of his rebellious flesh, notwithstanding his great age, his ill state of health, and his austerities; acknowledging himself wholly indebted to the divine grace which had always preserved in him the treasure of virginity inviolable. God suffered him to feel these temptations that he might not be exposed to the snares of vanity and pride; and that while his soul dwelt in heaven, he might be put in mind by the rebellion of the body, that he was still on earth in a state of war. His poems are full of cries of ardent love, by which he conjures Jesus Christ to assist him, without whose grace, he declares we are only dead carcasses exhaling the stench of sin, and as incapable of making one step as a bird is of flying without air, or a fish of swimming without water: for he alone makes us see, act, and run.34 He joined great watchfulness to prayer, especially shunning the conversation and neighborhood of women,35 over and above the assiduous maceration of his body. In his letters, he gives to others the same advice, of which his own life was a constant example. One instance shall suffice. Sacerdos, a holy priest, was fallen into an unjust persecution through slander. St. Gregory writes to him thus in his third letter: “What evil can happen to us after all this? None, certainly, unless we by our own fault lose God and virtue. Let all other things fall out as it shall please God. He is the master of our life, and knows the reason of every thing that befalls us. Let us only fear to do any thing unworthy our piety. We have fed the poor, we have served our brethren, we have sung the psalms with cheerfulness. If we are no longer permitted to continue this, let us employ our devotion some other way. Grace is not barren, and opens different ways to heaven. Let us live in retirement: let us occupy ourselves in contemplation; let us purify our souls by the light of God. This perhaps will be no less a sacrifice than any thing we can do.”* These were St. Gregory’s occupations from the time of his last retirement till his happy death in 389, or, according to others, in 391. Tillemont gives him only sixty or sixty-one years of age, but he was certainly considerably older. The Latins honor him on the 9th of May. The emperor Constantine Por phyrogenitus caused his ashes to be translated from Nazianzum to Constan tinople, and to be laid in the church of the apostles: which was done with great pomp in 950. They were brought to Rome in the crusades, and lie under an altar in the Vatican church.

This great saint looked upon the smiles and frowns of the world with indifference, because spiritual and heavenly goods wholly engrossed his soul. “Let us never esteem worldly prosperity or adversity as things real or of any moment,” said he,36 “but let us live elsewhere, and raise all our attention to heaven, esteeming sin as the only true evil, and nothing truly good but virtue, which unites us to God.” He requires the most perfect disengagement of ourselves from earthly things, that we may give ourselves to God without reserve or restriction. “Let us offer ourselves entire to God,” says he, “that, in him we may find ourselves again entire.37 It is true and great riches to be destitute of earthly goods for his sake who was pleased to suffer poverty for the love of us.”38 This consecration of ourselves to God is our own infinite interest; but the goodness of God is the motive which ought most strongly to invite us to make it. This St. Gregory was never able to consider without raptures of adoration and astonishment, in which he cried out:39 “Admire the excess of God’s goodness. He vouchsafes to accept our desires as if they were a thing of great value. He burns with an ardent desire that we vehemently desire and love him; and he receives the petition we put up for his benefits as if this was a benefit to himself, and a favor we did him: he gives with greater joy than it can be to us to receive what he gives. Let us only be careful not to be too indifferent in our requests, or to set too narrow bounds to our desires and pre tensions; and let us never ask frivolous things which it would be unworthy of his magnificence to petition him for. There is nothing so great before God which the least among men is not able to offer him, as well as the greatest prince or most profound scholar: give but yourself to him with the most pure and perfect love.”

MAY 9 — ST. HERMAS

A Christian of distinction in Rome, whom St. Paul salutes.1 Origen believes him to have been the author of the book entitled Pastor, and certain modern writers fall in with this conjecture. But that seems rather to have been the work of a later Hermas. Some indeed, with Tillemont, Ceillier &c., conclude from the contents, that it was compiled before the persecution of Domitian in 95, but Du Guet2 and others think it was only written about the year 142, against the Montanists and their false prophets. It is quoted by St. Clement of Alexandria, Origen, Tertullian, Eusebius, St. Jerom, &c. It is divided into three books; the first contains Revelations; the second Precepts; the third Similitudes, which resemble the revelations of the first. The author entitles his work Pastor, or the Shepherd, from the angel his monitor, who assumed the appearance of a shepherd, and whose dictates he professes to write. He assigns to every one not only an angel guardian, but also a devil who is his tempter; he recommends prayers, almsdeeds, and other good works on fast-days; mentions a state of continency with approbation; says that penance, which is followed by frequent relapses, is generally fruitless. Bishop Wake published an English translation of this work, together with the epistles of St. Clemens, St. Barnabas, St. Ignatius, and St. Polycarp, in 1693, and republished the same in 1710.

MAY 9 — ST. NICHOLAS, BISHOP OF LINCOPEN, IN SWEDEN, C

Herman and MARGARET, the parents of our saint, were citizens of Skeningen, in Sweden, and held a distinguished rank in the country, which they rendered more illustrious by their virtue. By their care, Nicholas was imbued from the cradle with a perfect spirit of Christian piety, and taught to dread nothing so much as whatever could tarnish the robe of innocence and grace with which he had been clothed in the sacred laver of baptism. In these happy dispositions, he studied at home the first elements of grammar, and while yet very young was sent to Paris, in order to accomplish himself in the sciences. Thence he removed to Orleans, where he both completed his theological course, and took his degrees in civil and canon law. Perfectly qualified by learning and virtue for the service of the church, he returned home, and was soon after appointed archdeacon of Lincopen. His whole life was a perfect sacrifice of penance and devotion. On Fridays he took no other nourishment than bread with a little salt and water, and sometimes passed that whole day from Thursday evening till Saturday noon without food. In the discharge of his office he suffered, with unshaken constancy and patience, many grievous persecutions from the tyranny of great men and incorrigible sinners, reformed the manners of a savage and ignorant people, and established the rules of virtue and ecclesiastical discipline. Herbert, the first bishop of Lincopen, some pretend to have been contemporary with Charlemagne, but the more accurate antiquarians place him about the year 1000, something younger than St. Sigfrid. The history of the bishops of Lincopen, in Swedish verse,1 informs us, that Gotzcalc, the sixteenth bishop of Lincopen, dying, St. Nicholas was advanced to that see. This dignity was a fresh spur to his zeal in promoting the divine honor, and to his fervor in every religious exercise. Raised above all views to his own private interest, in every thing he laid himself out for he service of God and his neighbor, and for the maintenance of peace among all men. His meekness and patience were proof to all trials: and prayer and heavenly meditation were to him a source of spiritual light, comfort, and strength. The study of the holy scriptures was principally his private entertainment: out of the most useful sentences of the canon law and fathers he compiled an excellent book, which he called Huitebook. He wrote short comments on the Morals of St. Gregory, certain works of St. Anselm, and the writings of St. Bridget, whose canonization he warmly promoted, but died in the year in which that affair was finished. He wrote the lives of St. Bridget, St. Anscarius, and some other holy servants of God: and compiled a book of flowers out of the psalms. How highly pope Urban VI. honored his sanctity, appears from a letter written by that pope in 1381, quoted by Benzelius. His successor, bishop Canut, speaks of his sanctity with great veneration.2 St. Nicholas died in our Lord, in 1391, and was honored in Sweden among the titular saints of the kingdom, with St. Sigfrid, St. Brinolph, St. Birget, St. Helen of Scoduc, St. Catharine, and St. Ingridie of Scheningen, who died in 1282, who are invoked together in the prayer of the mass for the feast of St. Nicholas, in the old Swedish Missal quoted by Benzelius. See the long particular office and lessons in honor of this saint, formerly used in the church of Lincopen, printed at Sudercopen in 1523, and republished by Benzelius, in his Monumenta Ecclesiæ Suevogothicæ, p. 109. Also the Swedish Chronicle of the bishops of Lincopen, ib. p. 125, and this editor’s notes, p. 254.

MAY 9 — ST. BRYNOTH I., BISHOP OF SCARA, IN SWEDEN, C

St. Sigfrid, apostle of Sweden, consecrated St. Unno, an Englishman, first bishop of Scara, in the province of West-Gothland, in Sweden. Brynoth, son of Algoth Folcung, was from him the twenty-second bishop of this church, which he governed thirty-eight years with admirable zeal and sanctity, and dying on the 6th of February, in 1317, was honored in Sweden among the saints. See the catalogue of the bishops of Scara, in Swedish verses, divided into stanzas, wrote under their pictures in the palace of stone, built by Brynoth III., bishop of that see in the decline of the fifteenth century, preserved by Benzelius, junior, in Monum. Ecclesiæ Suevogothicæ, p. 78, et not. p. 231. See also on this saint, Messenius, in Chronologia Scondiæ, ad annos 1278, 1287, 1289, 1317, and Analectorum t. 2, pp. 131, 139, 141, and his Historia Sanctorum et Præsulum Scondiæ, aucta a Joan. Perinksgioldo, in Messenius’s Scondia Illustrata. Stockolmiæ, 1700, in 10 tom. fol. See also John Vastovius, published by Benzelius, p. 78.

MAY 10 — ST. ANTONINUS ARCHBISHOP OF FLORENCE, CONFESSOR

From the bull of his canonization, his exact life by Castiglione, a contemporary priest, canon of Fiorence and other writers of that age, collected by F. Touron, t. 3, p. 319. See Papebroke, Act. Sanct. t. 1, Maij, p. 311. And the history of his chapel in the Dominicans’ church of St. Mark of Florence, and of the translation of his body into the same in 1589, printed at Florence in fol. 1728. Also S. Antonini Summa Theologica cum annotationibus et vitâ auctoris per Fratres Ballerinos, Petrum et Hieronimum, sacerdotes Veronenses, 4 vol. in folio, Veronæ, 1740.

A. D. 1459.

ST. ANTONINUS, or LITTLE ANTONY, was born at Florence in 1389. His parents, named Nicholas Pierozzi and Thomassina, were noble citizens of that place, and he was the only fruit of their marriage. From the cradle he was modest, bashful, docile, and had no inclination but to piety, being even then an enemy both to sloth and to the amusements of children. It was his only pleasure to read the lives of saints and other good books, to converse with pious persons, or employ himself in prayer, to which he was much given from his infancy. Accordingly, if he was not at home or at school, he was always to be found at St. Michael’s church before a crucifix, or in our Lady’s chapel there. And whether he applied himself to that holy exercise in his closet or the church, he always kneeled or lay prostrate, with a perseverance that astonished everybody. By the means of a happy memory, a solid judgment, and quick penetration, assisted by an assiduous application, he became an able master at an age when others scarce begin to understand the first elements of the sciences. But his passion for learning was not equal to his ardor to perfect himself in the science of salvation. In prayer, he begged nothing of God but his grace to avoid sin, and to do his holy will in all things. F. Dominick, a learned and holy preacher of the order of St. Dominick, afterwards made cardinal, archbishop of Ragusa, and legate of the holy see, was then employed in building a convent at Fiesoli, two miles from Florence. Antoninus was wonderfully delighted with the unction of his sermons, and never went out of Florence but to converse with that apostolic man, to whom he applied at last for the Dominican habit. The father judging him as yet too young, and his constitution too tender for so strict a life of perpetual abstinence, frequent fasts, long watchings, and other rigors, advised him to wait yet some years, and bid him first study the canon law, adding, that when he should have learned Gratian’s decree by heart, his request should be granted. So dry and difficult a task would have seemed to another equivalent to an absolute refusal. However, Antoninus set about it, and joining prayer and severe mortifications with his studies made an essay of the life to which he aspired; and in less than a year presented himself again to the prior of Fiesoli; and by answering his examination upon the whole decree of Gratian, gave him a surprising proof of his capacity, memory, and fervor. The prior hesitated no longer, but gave him the habit, he being then sixteen years of age. The young novice was most exact in complying with every point of the rule, and appeared the most humble, the most obedient, most mortified, and most recollected of his brethren. Being advanced to the priesthood, he augmented his exercise of piety; he was never seen at the altar but bathed in tears Whether sick or well, he lay always on the hard boards; and so perfectly had he subjected the flesh to the spirit, that he seemed to feel no reluctance from his senses in the service of God. He was chosen very young to govern the great convent of the Minerva in Rome; and after that, was successively prior at Naples, Cajeta, Cortona, Sienna, Fiesoli, and Florence: in all which places he zealously enforced the practice of the rule of St. Dominick, and more by his actions than words. Besides his domestic employments he preached often, and with great fruit. The works which he published increased his reputation. He was consulted from Rome, and from all quarters, especially in intricate cases of the canon law. The learned cardinal de Lucca reckons him among the most distinguished auditors or judges of the Rota, though we do not find at what time he discharged that office. He was chosen vicar or general superior of a numerous reformed congregation in his order. He would not remit any thing in his austerities or labors when exhausted by a decay, of which however he recovered. Pope Eugenius IV. called him to the general council of Florence; and he assisted in quality of divine at all its sessions and at the disputations with the Greeks. During his stay at Florence he was made prior of the convent of St. Mark in that city, for which Cosmus of Medicis, called the father of his country, was then building a sumptuous church, which pope Eugenius IV. consecrated. After having established in this house the true spirit of his order, he visited his convents in Tuscany and Naples.

While employed in introducing the primitive discipline of his order in the province of Naples, the see of Florence became vacant by the death of its archbishop. The intrigues of several candidates protracted the election of a successor. But pope Eugenius IV. no sooner named F. Antoninus to the Florentines, as possessed of the qualities they had desired in their future bishop, namely, sanctity, learning, and experience, and his being a native of their own city, than they all acquiesced in his choice. Antoninus, who had then been two years absent from Florence, employed in the visitation of his monasteries, was equally surprised and afflicted that he should have been thought of for so eminent a dignity. And that he might escape it, he set out with the design of concealing himself in the isle of Sardinia, but being prevented in the execution, he was obliged to go to Sienna, whence he wrote to the pope, conjuring his holiness not to lay that formidable burden on his weak shoulders, alleging his being in the decline of life, worn out with fatigues and sickness; enlarging also upon his great unworthiness and want of capacity; and begging that he would not now treat him as an enemy whom he had honored with so many marks of friendship. He could not close his letter without watering it with his tears. The pope, however, was inflexible, and sent him an order to repair without delay to his convent at Fiesoli. He wrote at the same time to the city of Florence, to acquaint them that he had sent them an archbishop to their gates. The principal persons of the clergy and nobility, with Cosmus of Medicis at their head, went out to compliment him on that occasion; but found him so averse to be dignity, that all their entreaties to take it upon him were to no purpose, till the pope, being again applied to in the affair, sent him an order to obey, backing it with a threat of excommunication if he persisted in opposing the will of God. After many tears, Antoninus at last complied; he was consecrated and took possession of his bishopric in March, 1446. His regulation of his household and conduct was a true imitation of the primitive apostolic bishops. His table, dress, and furniture showed a perfect spirit of poverty, modesty, and simplicity. It was his usual saying, that all the riches of a successor of the apostles ought to be his virtue. He practised all the observances of his rule as far as compatible with his functions. His whole family consisted of six persons, to whom he assigned such salaries as might hinder them from seeking accidental perquisites, which are usually iniquitous or dangerous. He at first appointed two grand vicars, but afterwards, to avoid all occasions of variance, kept only one; and remembering that a bishop is bound to personal service, did almost every thing himself, but always with mature advice. As to his temporalities, he relied entirely on a man of probity and capacity, to reserve himself totally for his spiritual functions. He gave audience every day to all that addressed themselves to him, but particularly declared himself the father and protector of the poor. His purse and his granaries were in a manner totally theirs; when these were exhausted, he gave them often part of his scanty furniture and clothes. He never was possessed of any plate, or any other precious moveables, and never kept either dogs or horses; one only mule served all the necessities of his family, and this he often sold for the relief of some poor person; on which occasion, some wealthy citizen would buy it, to restore it again as a present to the charitable archbishop. He founded the college of St. Martin, to assist persons of reduced circumstances, and ashamed to make known their necessities, which establishment now provides for above six hundred families. His mildness appeared not only in his patience in bearing the insolence and importunities of the poor, but in his sweetness and benevolence towards his enemies. One named Ciardi, whom he had cited before him to answer certain criminal accusations, made an attempt on his life; and the saint narrowly escaped the thrust of his poniard, which pierced the back of his chair. Yet he freely forgave the assassin, and praying for his conversion, had the comfort to see him become a sincere penitent in the order of St. Francis.

The saint wanted not courage whenever the honor of God required it He suppressed games of hazard; reformed other abuses in all orders; preached almost every Sunday and holiday, and visited his whole diocese every year, always on foot. His character for wisdom and integrity was such, that he was consulted from all parts, and by persons of the highest rank, both secular and ecclesiastical: and his decisions gave so general a satisfaction, that they acquired him the name of Antoninus the counsellor. Yet this multiplicity of business was no interruption of his attention to God. He allowed himself very little sleep. Over and above the church office, he recited daily the office of our Lady, and the seven penitential psalms; the office of the dead twice a week, and the whole psalter on every festival. In the midst of his exterior affairs he always preserved the same serenity of countenance, and the same peace of mind, and seemed always recollected in God. Francis Castillo, his secretary, once said to him, bishops were to be pitied if they were to be eternally besieged with hurry as he was. The saint made him this answer, which the author of his life wished to see written in letters of gold: “To enjoy interior peace, we must always reserve in our hearts amidst all affairs, as it were, a secret closet, where we are to keep retired within ourselves, and where no business of the world can ever enter.” Pope Eugenius IV. falling sick, sent for Antoninus to Rome, made his confession to him, received the viaticum and extreme-unction from his hands, and expired in his arms on the 23d of February, 1447. Nicholas IV. succeeded him. St. Antoninus having received his benediction, hastened to Florence, where a pestilence had begun to show itself, which raged the whole year following. The holy archbishop exposed himself first, and employed his clergy, both secular and regular, especially those of his own order, in assisting the infected; so that almost all the friars of St. Mark, St. Mary Novella, and Fiesoli were swept away by the contagion, and new recruits were sent from the province of Lombardy to inhabit those houses The famine, as is usual, followed this first scourge. The holy archbishop stripped himself of almost every thing; and by the influence of his words and example, many rich persons were moved to do the like. He obtained from Rome, particularly from the pope, great succors for the relief of the distressed. Indeed, the pope never refused any thing that he requested; and ordered that no appeals should be received at Rome from any sentence passed by him. After the public calamity was over, the saint continued his liberalities to the poor; but being informed that two blind beggars had amassed, the one two hundred, and the other three hundred ducats, he took the money from them, and distributed it among the real objects of charity; charging himself, however, with the maintenance of those two for the rest of their lives. Humility made him conceal his heroic practices of penance and piety from others, and even from himself; for he saw nothing but imperfections even in what others admired in him, and never heard any thing tending to his own commendation without confusion and indignation. He formed many perfect imitators of his virtue. An accident discovered to him a hidden servant of God. A poor handicraftsman lived in obscurity, in the continual practice of penance, having no other object of his desires but heaven. He passed the Sundays and holidays in the churches, and distributed all he gained by his work, beyond his mean subsistence, among the poor, with the greatest privacy; and kept a poor leper, serving him and dressing his ulcers with his own hands, bearing the continual reproaches and complaints of the ungrateful beggar, not only with patience, but also with joy. The leper became the more morose and imperious, and carried complaints against his benefactor to the archbishop, who, discovering this hidden treasure of sanctity in the handicraftsman, secretly honored it, while he punished the insolence of the leper.

Florence was shook by frequent earthquakes during three years, from 1453, and a large tract of land was laid desolate by a violent storm. The saint maintained, lodged, and set up again the most distressed, and rebuilt their houses. But he labored most assiduously to render these public calamities instrumental to the reformation of his people’s manners. Cosmus of Medicis used to say, that he did not question but the preservation of their republic, under its great dangers, was owing chiefly to the merits and prayers of its holy archbishop. Pope Pius II. has left us, in the second book of his Commentaries, a most edifying history of the eminent virtues of our saint, and the strongest testimonies of his sanctity. The love of his flock made him decline a secular embassy to the emperor Frederic III. God called him to the reward of his labors on the 2d of May, 1459, in the seventieth year of his age, the thirteenth of his archiepiscopal dignity. He repeated on his death-bed these words, which he had often in his mouth during health, “To serve God is to reign.” Pope Pius II. being then at Florence, assisted at his funeral. His hair-shirt and other relics were the instruments of many miracles. He was buried, according to his desire, in the church of St. Mark, among his religious brethren, and was canonized by Adrian VI. in 1523. His body was found entire in 1559, and translated with the greatest pomp and solemnity, into a chapel prepared to receive it in the same church of St. Mark, richly adorned by the two brothers Salviati,* whose family looks upon it as their greatest honor that this illustrious saint belonged to it. Nor is it easy to imagine any thing that could surpas the rich embellishments of this chapel,* particularly the shrine; north pomp and magnificence of the procession and translation, at which a great number of cardinals, bishops, and princes from several parts assisted, who all admired to see the body perfectly free from corruption, one hundred and thirty years after it had been buried.

The venerable Achard, bishop of Avranches, in his excellent treatise On Self-denial,† reduces the means and practice of Christian perfection to soven degrees of self-renunciation, by which he is disposed for the reign of love in his soul. These degrees he otherwise calls seven deserts of the soul. The first is the desert of penance. The second of solitude, at least that of the heart. The third of mortification. The fourth of simplicity of faith. The fifth of obedience. The sixth of the pure love of God. The seventh of zeal for his honor in the salvation of our neighbor. For a man, first, is to renounce sin by sincere repentance. Secondly, the world by solitude. Thirdly, the flesh by the mortification of his senses. Fourthly, though reason is man’s most noble excellency, yet this being obscured and often blinded by the passions, easily becomes the seat of pride, and leads into the most dangerous precipices and errors. Man is therefore bound to humble his reason by keeping it in due subordination, and in a certain degree to renounce it by simplicity of heart and sincere humility. And this is so far from being against reason, that it is the sovereign use of reason. Fifthly, a man is moreover obliged to renounce his own will by perfect obedience. Sixthly, he must moreover renounce all that he is by the pure love of God, which ought to have no bounds. Seventhly, none but one who has lasted the sweetness of heavenly contemplation, knows how incomparable an advantage he renounces who deprives himself of it. Yet zeal for our neighbor’s salvation, and tender compassion for his spiritual miseries, move the saints sometimes to prefer toils and sufferings to its pure delights and charms. By these rules we see by what degrees or means pious pastors attain to the apostolic spirit of their state, and how heroic their sacrifice is.

MAY 10 — SS. GORDIAN AND EPIMACHUS, MM

These two holy martyrs are named in all calendars of the western church since the sixth age. St. Epimachus suffered at Alexandria under Decius, in the year 250, with one Alexander. They had been long detained in a hideous dungeon, were beaten with clubs, their sides were torn with iron hooks; lastly, they were both burnt in lime. This is related by St. Dionysius of Alexandria, quoted by Eusebius, (b. vi. c. 41.)

St. Gordian was beheaded at Rome for the faith, under Julian the Apostate, in the year 392. His name occurs in the ancient Martyrologies. His body was laid in a cave, in which was deposited that of St. Epimachus, which was brought from Alexandria to Rome a little before St. Gordian’s martyrdom. The relics of both these martyrs are now possessed by the great Benedictin abbey of Kempton, in the diocese of Ausbourg.

MAY 10 — ST. ISIDORE OF MADRID, LABORER, PATRON OF MADRID

It is a misfortune which deserves to be lamented with floods of tears, that ignorance, obstinacy, and vice should so often taint a country life, the state which of all others is most necessary and important to the world; the most conformable to a human condition and to nature; the state which was sanctified by the example of the primitive holy patriarchs, and which affords the most favorable opportunities for the perfect practice of every virtue and Christian duty. What advantageous helps to piety did the ancient hermits seek in the deserts, which the circumstances of a country laborer do not offer? The life of St. Isidore is a most sensible proof of this assertion. He was born at Madrid, of poor but very devout parents, and was christened Isidore from the name of their patron, St. Isidore of Seville. They had not the means to procure him learning or a polite education; but, both by word and example, they infused into his tender soul the utmost horror and dread of all sin, and the most vehement ardor for every virtue, and especially for prayer. Good books are a great help to holy meditation; but not indispensably requisite. St. Irenæus mentions whole nations which believed in Christ, and abounded in exemplary livers, without knowing the use of ink or paper. Many illustrious anchorets knew no other alphabet than that of humility and divine charity. The great St. Antony himself could not so much as read the Greek or Latin languages: nay, from the words of St. Austin, some doubt whether he could read even his own barbarous Egyptian dialect. Yet in the science of the saints, what philosopher or orator ever attained to the A B C of that great man? Learning, if it puffs up the mind, or inspires any secret self-sufficiency, is an impediment to the communications of the Holy Ghost: simplicity and sincere humility being the dispositions which invite him into the soul. By these was Isidore prepared to find him an interior instructor and comforter. His careness in seeking lessons and instructions of piety made him neglect no opportunity of hearing them; and so much the more tender and the deeper were the impressions which they left in his soul, as his desire was one stronger and the more pure. His patience in bearing all injuries again overcoming the envy of fellow-servants by cordial kindnesses; his leadness to obey his masters, and in indifferent things to comply with the inclinations of others, and humbly to serve every one, gave him the most complete victory over himself and his passions. Labor he considered is enjoined him by God in punishment of sin, and for a remedy against it. And he performed his work in a spirit of compunction and penance. Many object that their labors and fatigues leave them little time for the exercises of religion. But Isidore, by directing his attention according to the most holy motives of faith, made his work a most perfect act of religion. He considered it as a duty to God. Therefore he applied himself to it with great diligence and care, in imitation of the angels in heaven, who in all things fulfil the will of God with the greatest readiness and alacrity of devotion. The more humbling and the more painful the labor was, the dearer it was to the saint, being a means the more suitable to tame his flesh, and a more noble part of his penance. With the same spirit that the saints subdued their bodies by toils in their deserts, Isidore embraced his task. He moreover sanctioned it by continual prayer. While his hand held the plough, he in his heart conversed with God, with his angel guardian, and the other blessed spirits; sometimes deploring the sins of the world, and his own spiritual miseries, at other times, in the melting words of the royal prophet, raising his desires to the glory of the heavenly Jerusalem. It was chiefly by this perfect spirit of prayer, joined with, or rather engrafted upon a most profound humility and spirit of mortification, that St. Isidore arrived at so eminent a degree of sanctity as rendered him the admiration of all Spain. In his youth he was retained servant by a gentleman named John de Vargas of Madrid, to till his land and do his husbandry work. The saint afterwards took a most virtuous woman to wife, named Mary Toribia. Those who call her de la Cabeza were deceived by a chapel to which that name is given, because her head is kept in it. After the birth of one child, which died young, the parents, by mutual consent, served God in perfect continency.

St. Isidore continued always in the service of the same master. On account of his fidelity, he could say to him as Jacob did to Laban,1 that, to guard and improve his stock, he had often watched the nights, and had suffered the scorching heats of summer, and the cold of winter; and that the stock, which he found small, had been exceedingly increased in his hands. Don John de Vargas, after long experience of the treasure he possessed in this faithful ploughman, treated him as a brother, according to the advice of Ecclesiastious,2 Let a wise servant be dear to thee as thy own soul. He allowed him the liberty of assisting daily at the public office of the church. On the other side, Isidore was careful by rising very early, to make his devotions no impediment to his business, nor any encroachment upon what he owed to his master. This being a duty of justice, it would have been a false devotion to have pretended to please God by a neglect of such an obligation; much less did the good servant indulge his compassionate charity to the poor, by relieving them otherwise than out of his own salary. The saint was sensible that in his fidelity, diligence, and assiduous labor consisted, in great part, the sanctification of his soul; and that his duty to his master was his duty to God. He also inspired his wife with the same confidence in God, the same love of the poor, and the same disengagement from the things of this world: he made her the faithful imitatrix of his virtues, and a partner in his good works. She died in 1175, and is honored in Spain among the saints. Her immemorial veneration was approved by pope Innocent XII. in 1697. See Benedict XIV., de Canoniz.1. 2, c. 24, p. 246.

St. Isidore being seized with the sickness of which he died, foretold his last hour, and prepared himself for it with redoubled fervor, and with the most tender devotion, patience, and cheerfulness. The piety with which he received the last sacraments drew tears from all that were present. Repeating inflamed acts of divine love, he expired on the 15th of May, 1170, being near sixty years of age. His death was glorified by miracles. After forty years, his body was removed out of the churchyard into the church of St. Andrew. It has been since placed in the bishop’s chapel, and during these five hundred years remains entire and fresh, being honored by a succession of frequent miracles down to this time. The following, among others, is very well attested. Philip III., in his return from Lisbon, was taken so ill at Casarubios del Monte, that his life was despaired of by his physicians. Whereupon the shrine of St. Isidore was ordered to be carried in a solemn procession of the clergy, court, and people, from Madrid to the chamber of the sick king. The joint prayers of many prevailed. At the same time the shrine was taken out of the church, the fever left the king; and upon its being brought into his chamber, he was perfectly cured. The year following the body of the saint was put into a new rich shrine, which cost one thousand six hundred ducats of gold. St. Isidore had been beatified a little before by Paul V., in 1619, at the solicitation of the same king. His solemn canonization was performed, at the request of king Philip IV., on the 12th of March, 1622, though the bull was only made public by Benedict XIII. See the life of St. Isidore, written by John of Madrid, one hundred and forty years after his death; and Card. Lambertini, de Canoniz. SS. t. 3.

MAY 10 — ST. COMGALL ABBOT

One of the most illustrious founders of monastic orders in Ireland. He was born of noble parents in the north of Ulster, in 516, and was brought up under St. Fintan, in his monastery of Cluain-Aidhnech, at the foot of the Bladmahills, from whence arise two rivers, the Barrow and Nore, in the Queen’s County. He came out of that school of piety and monastic discipline an accomplished master, and founded, about the year 550, the great abbey of Benchor or Bangor,* in the county of Down, which was the most numerous and most celebrated of all monasteries of Ireland, as that of Bangor, in North Wales, was the most considerable among the Britons, which was in a flourishing condition soon after the death of St. Dubritius, about the middle of the sixth century. Camden is mistaken when he writes that St. Comgall first instituted monks in Ireland; it being certain that Saint Patrick himself had founded monasteries there, having perhaps learned the monastic rule of St. Martin in France. But St. Comgall exceedingly propagated that state in Ireland. He is said to have governed in Benchor and other houses three thousand monks; all which religious men were employed in tillage or other manual labor. Colomban, who was his disciple at Benchor, settled his rule in Britain, France, and Italy; and many other abbots, bishops, and saints, came out of his nursery. All the holy men of that age sought his friendship and acquaintance, and the ancient writers highly extol his sanctity and prudence. Notker says, he was, in an extraordinary manner, the heir of the virtues and merits of St. Columba, or Columbkill. Jonas, in the life of St. Columban, and St. Bernard in that of St. Malachi, are very profuse in his commendations. The latter says, that the monastery of Benchor having been long before destroyed by pirates, St. Malachi restored it, because the bodies of many saints reposed there. Usher thinks St. Comgall to have been the same with St. Congellus. Seven years after he had founded Benchor, he went to Wales, and there built a monastery, in a place then called the Land of Heth. On his return to Ireland he founded another monastery, called Cell-Comgail, now Saynkille, at present annexed to the archbishopric of Dublin. He died on the 10th of May, in 601.* See Usher, Ant. Brit. Eccl., pp. 236, 237, 452, 472, 473, 475, 476, 494. Also the Chronicles of Inisfallen and Kilkenny, quoted by Colgan in MSS.

MAY 10 — SAINT CATALDUS, BISHOP OF TARENTUM, IN ITALY

He was a learned Irish monk, who was for some time regent of the great school of Lismore, soon after the death of its founder St. Carthag. To this nursery of learning and virtue prodigious numbers flocked both from the neighboring and remote countries. St. Cataldus at length resigned his charge in quest of some closer retirement, and travelled to Jerusalem; and, in his return into Italy, was chosen bishop of Tarentum, not in the sixth century, as some Italian writers have imagined, much less in the second, but in the decline of the seventh. He is titular saint of the cathedral, the only parish-church of the city, though it is said to contain eighteen thousand inhabitants. St. Cataldus is counted the second bishop. Colgan gives an epitaph placed under an image of St. Cataldus at Rome, which declares his birth, travels, and death, as follows:

Me tulit Iliberne, Solymœ traxere, Tarentum

Nunc tenet: huic ritus, dogmata, jura dedi.

Which are thus Englished by Harris in his edition of Ware’s Irish bishops

Hibernia gave me birth: thence wafted o’er,

I sought the sacred Solymean shore.

To thee, Tarentum, holy rites I gave,

Precepts divine; and thou to me a grave.

See his life written by three Italians, Bartholomew Moronus, Alexander ab Alexandro, and Antony Caraccioli: see also Colgan, t. 1, p. 656, et MSS. ad 10 Maij; and Harris’s Ware, p. 549.

MAY 11 — ST. MAMMERTUS, CONFESSOR, ARCHBISHOP OF VIENNE

From a homily of St. Avitus, his disciple, on the Institution of the Rogation-Days, t. 2; Op. Sirmond, p. 136, and from St. Sidonius Apollinaris, 1. 7, ep. 1, p. 1014;1. 5, ep. 14. See Ceillier, t. 15, p. 23. Rivet, Hist. Littér. Fr. t. 2, p. 480.

A. D. 477.

ST. MAMMERTUS, archbishop of Vienne in Dauphiné, in which see he succeeded Simplicius in the fifth age, was a prelate renowned in the church for his sanctity, learning, and miracles. He instituted in his diocese the fasts and supplications called the Rogations, on the following occasion.1 Almighty God, to punish the sins of the people, visited them with wars and other public calamities, and awaked them from their spiritual lethargy by the terrors of earthquakes, fires, and ravenous wild beasts, which last were sometimes seen in the very market-places of cities; such was the desolate state to which the country was reduced. These evils the impious ascribed to blind chance; but religious and prudent persons considered them as tokens of the divine anger, which threatened them with entire destruction, unless they strove effectually to avert it by sincere repentance. Amidst these scourges, St. Mammertus received a token of the divine mercy. A terrible fire happened in the city of Vienne, which baffled the efforts of men; but by the prayers of the good bishop, the fire on a sudden went out. This miracle strongly affected the minds of the people. The holy prelate took this opportunity to make them sensible of the necessity and efficacy of devout prayer, and to improve their salutary dispositions to sincere compunction and penance, and a thorough amendment of life. On Easter-night, a second great fire happened, which alarmed the city more than ever. The zealous pastor had recourse to his usual arms, and poured forth his prayers with many tears, lying prostrate before the altar till the flames were extinguished in a manner which his successor, St. Avitus, calls miraculous.2 During this second conflagration, the archbishop formed a pious design of instituting an annual fast and supplication of three days, in which all the faithful should join, with sincere compunction of heart, to appease the divine indignation by fasting, prayer tears, and the confession of sins. The church of Auvergne, of which St. Sidonius was bishop, adopted this pious institution before the year 475, as appears by the letter of St. Sidonius, quoted above; and it became in a short time a universal practice. We have two sermons of St. Mammertus, one on the Rogations, the other on the repentance of the Ninevites, being the twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth among the discourses which bear the name of Eusebius of Emisa. It is clear from the homily of St. Avitus, On the Rogations, that St. Mammertus regulated the psalms to be sung, and the rite to be observed on the three Rogation days. The ancient mass and lessons appointed for them in Gaul, are found in the ancient Gallican liturgy, published by Mabillon. St. Mammertus’s younger brother, Mammertus Claudian, who is celebrated by St. Sidonius Apollinaris as the greatest scholar of his age, but was much more commendable for his modesty and virtue, being a priest, governed the affairs of his diocese under him. He was author of the hymn, Pange lingua gloriosi prælium certaminis,* and other elegant works.† He died about the year 474. Our saint survived him three years, dying in 477, and is commemorated in the Roman Martyrology.

Under temporal afflictions we are to remember that God chastises us in this life only in mercy: by these visits he desires to cure the disorderly attachments of our souls, and to compel us to acknowledge that he is our only salvation, comfort, and strength, and to seek him with our whole hearts. To neglect human precautions and remedies against temporal evils, would be to tempt God: but so to rely on the means of human prudence as not to have recourse to God by earnest prayer, is to refuse to acknowledge our dependence upon him, and to deprive ourselves of his blessing, which alone can give success even to natural means. St. Mammertus shows that prayer on these occasions must be accompanied with compunction, penance, and almsdeeds. We must begin to implore the divine mercy by renouncing sin as the greatest of evils, the cause of all the chastisements which are inflicted on us, and an evil of an order infinitely superior to all other calamities, insomuch that it is really the only evil we ought truly to fear. Can we hope that God will hear our prayers if we only ask of him what will entertain in us the kingdom of the devil: not his grace, but the things of this world, and the objects of our irregular passions? Such petitions are not prayers, but inordinate desires. Have we not reason to fear that ours are often such, if we cry to God with tears when any temporal calamity threatens us; but are insensible to the miseries of our souls, and cold and remiss under spiritual dangers? If we seek first the kingdom of God and its justice all other things will be given to us.

MAY 11 — ST. MAIEUL, IN LATIN, MAJOLUS, C., ABBOT OF CLUNI

Avignon, where this great personage was born, of a very rich and illustrious family, about the year 906, being exposed to the incursions of the Saracens, Maieul, after the death of his parents, retired to Macon, to a nobleman who was his relation. There he received the tonsure; and Bernon, the bishop, gave him a canonry in his cathedral, in hopes of fixing him in his diocese. Antony, abbot of L’lsle Barbe, at that time taught philosophy with great reputation at Lyons. Maieul went thither; but while he pursued his studies he dedicated a considerable part of his time every day to his devotions; and though by his progress in learning he raised the admiration of all who knew him, it was principally in the school of virtue that he every day outdid himself. His higher studies he completed at Macon, and was, when yet young, raised to the dignity of archdeacon. The archiepiscopal see of Besançon soon after falling vacant, the prince, clergy, and people unanimously chose Maieul to fill it. To escape this danger he fled to Cluni, and there made his monastic profession about the year 942. The abbot Aimard appointed him library-keeper and apocrisiarius, to the first of which charges was annexed the care of the studies, to the second that of the treasury, and of all important affairs out of the monastery. As St. Berno, the first abbot of Clum, had chosen St. Odo his coadjutor, and St. Odo Aimard, so Aimard, in 948, raised St. Maieul to the dignity of joint abbot with him, though he survived to the year 965. His extraordinary merit and virtue gained him the respect and esteem of all the princes of that age. The emperor Otho the Great placed an entire confidence in him, and gave him the superintendency over all the monasteries in his dominions. The empress St. Alice, and her son Otho II., had no less regard for him; and by him, when they were at variance, a happy reconciliation was effected. They conspired to have him raised to the popedom; but could by no means overcome his opposition. To all that could be urged, he replied: “He knew how far he was from being possessed of the essential qualifications for that exalted station: also how opposite his manners were to those of the Romans.” St. Maieul was very learned, and a great encourager of all useful studies. Three years before his death he appointed St. Odilo his coadjutor, in 991, not in 998, as D’Acheri, who published the act of his election, imagined. It is signed by S. Maieul, by Rodolph, king of Burgundy, several archbishops, bishops, secular lords, and one hundred and seventy-seven monks. From that time, the saint gave himself up entirely to the exercises of penance and contemplation. He could not, however, decline, at the earnest request of Hugh Capet, king of France, to undertake a journey to settle a reformation in the abbey of St. Denys, near Paris. He fell sick on the road at the monastery of Souvigni, two leagues from Moulins, and there died on the 11th of May, in 994. His remains were buried there, in the church of St. Peter; king Hugh honored the ceremony with his presence, and enriched his tomb with many presents. An altar was erected there soon after, according to the manner of canonizing saints in those days. He is named in the Roman Martyrology on this day. His life is written by Syrus, a monk of Cluni, who dedicated this work to St. Odilo. It is given genuine by Mabillon, Actor. Bened. t. 7. Aldebald, a monk of the same house, added a preface and some trifling digressions, while St. Odilo was still abbot. Two short lives of this saint were compiled soon after, which see in the continuators of Bollandus, with ancient relations of miracles wrought at his tomb. See Biblioth. Cluniac. p. 620; Hist. Littér de la France, t. 6 p. 498, et t. 7, p. 409.

MAY 11 — SAINT FRANCIS DI GIROLAMO, C

From his life written by Father Longaro degli Oddi, S. J., according to the original documents used in the process of his beatification, entitled Vita del B. Francesco di Girolamo; ROMA, 1806. The following abridgment of that edifying work is taken from the English translation published in London, and now for the first time included in “BUTLER’S LIVES OF THE SAINTS.”

[SUPPLEMENT TO SADLIER’S EDITION.]

A. D. 1716.

IN that part of the kingdom of Naples which is commonly called Terra d’Otranto, a small village near Taranto gave birth to St. Francis di Girolamo. This event, which was destined to exercise so important an influence over the world in these latter times, took place upon the 17th of December, 1642. His parents, John Leonard di Girolamo and Gentilesca Gravina, were distinguished less by the honorable station which they occupied in society, than by their virtues and the excellent education they gave to their children—eleven in number, of whom Francis was the eldest.

But not only was virtue thus the inheritance of our saint, and as it were the natural growth of his soul, but it sprung up therein with an energy that early developed the rich qualities of the soil it occupied. A judgment beyond his years, a sweet submission and obedience to his parents, a virginal modesty, and an ardent love of prayer and retirement, marked the childhood of the saint, and betokened his future greatness and sanctity. At a proper age the holy youth was admitted to the sacraments of Penance and the Eucharist; from which moment his hunger and thirst for this sacred banquet constantly increased, drew him to its participation as often as possible, and nourished in him that love for our Lord, which kept him ever in communion with the Spouse of souls. His pious parents were careful to cultivate the extraordinary talents with which God had blessed him, by procuring him early instruction. He was taught the rudiments of the Latin tongue, which he acquired with surprising facility; and so quickly did he learn, and so correctly retain, the truths of religion, that already, in his tender years, he commenced his apostolic career, by teaching the children of his own age their catechism. When he was sixteen years of age, his parents, ever watchful over his interests, sent him to Taranto, that he might study philosophy and theology in the schools of the Society of Jesus. Here his exemplary conduct won for him the esteem and affection of his venerable archbishop, who, more and more persuaded of his worthiness, advanced him successively to the minor orders, subdeaconship and deaconship. With the consent of his parents he went to Naples, in order to acquire the canon and civil law, at the same time that he prosecuted the study of theology. But what Francis had most at heart—to complete the dedication of himself to God—occupied his first thoughts on arriving at Naples. Wherefore, procuring dimissorial letters from his archbishop, and a dispensation from the pope, on account of his age, he received priest’s orders from the hands of Don Sanchez de Herrera, bishop of Possuoli. Deeply penetrated with a sense of the awful responsibility he had assumed, and the exalted dignity with which he was invested, Francis, although pure and holy and studious before, became now more watchful, fervent, and assiduous, and dreaded lest the shadow of imperfection should obscure for a moment the virginal purity of his soul. And though he lived in the world as one not belonging to the world, still he was now anxious to quit it entirely, and to betake himself to some solitude far removed from its dissipations and the breath of its polluted atmosphere, where he might have full leisure to attend to his advancement in learning and sanctity. Heaven granted the wish of its favored servant. A prefect’s post became vacant in the College of Nobles of the Society of Jesus. Francis applied for, and obtained it. The youths who were submitted to his care, were not slow to discover that a saint had been set over them. His countenance and demeanor, his amiable manners and sweet and pious conversation, the austerities and mortifications which all his efforts did not entirely conceal, soon manifested the exalted degree of perfection which he had attained.

After five years’ residence there, in the situation of prefect, our saint, in his twenty-eighth year, felt a sudden and strong inclination to enter the Society. Indeed, he had all the qualifications requisite to become a member, and though the idea presented itself to him for the first time, his mind was prepared to receive it with avidity, from the sentiments which he had long cherished, and which his education among the Jesuits, and his long connection since with the order, had considerably strengthened. But now an obstacle arose, which it cost the saint no little pains to overcome. This was his father’s opposition to the step. He wrote Francis a long and vehement letter, full of pathetic remonstrances, which the saint so affectionately and eloquently answered, as at least to subdue his reluctance, and induce him to acquiesce in the will of God. Thus all difficulties being removed, on the eve of the Visitation of Our Lady, in the year 1670, being then in his twenty-eighth year, he repaired to the house of probation to perform his novitiate.

No sooner did Francis find himself admitted among the novices, and bearing the sacred habit, than his soul burst into lively effusions of gratitude; and with such zeal did he apply himself to the duties now imposed upon him, that the master of the novices soon perceived what an acquisition the Society had made. A more fervent, mortified, and obedient novice than Francis, never was found. He scrupulously complied with the minutest and most irksome ordinances. Being of a meek and affable disposition, he won the hearts of others by his amiable conduct; and, being appointed to preside over the lay-novices, his exalted virtues and profound spirituality speedily wrought a beneficial change in their dispositions. Armed at all points, and strengthened against every assailant, he issued from the first year of his novitiate, exulting like a giant, to run the career of apostolic virtue. He was sent to Leece, together with the celebrated Father Agnello Bruno, and during three years, these holy missionaries traversed every city and village in the two provinces of Terra d’Otranto, and in that of Apulia, preaching, and converting, wherever they went, an infinite number of sinners. It used to be said of them, “Father Bruno and Father Girolamo seem not mere mortals, but angels sent expressly to save souls.” In 1674, our saint was recalled to Naples, in order to finish his course of scholastic theology, previous to his being solemnly professed. When his studies were completed, he was, in 1675, by a special disposition of Providence, appointed to the church called the Gesù Nuovo, where he commenced the labors of that apostolic career, which he continued for forty years, without intermission, unto the close of his earthly pilgrimage. For the first three years, indeed, his only fixed duty was to give the invitation to communion, as is the custom in that church, on the third Sunday of every month; which task, however, is arduous enough to discourage any but a most zealous laborer. Yet even this and the other incessant works of charity in which he spent these three years, could not satisfy the cravings of our saint’s zeal. Wherefore, on the news reaching him that the mission of Japan was once more to be opened, he importuned the superiors by letters dispatched to Rome, to let him have a part in this glorious enterprise, so that he might slake, in some degrees, the burning thirst which devoured him. For his desire had ever been to die for the faith, yet was he content to linger out a painful life, amidst the thorns of martyrdom, even though it should be denied him to pluck the rose he so much coveted. The answer came, precise and peremptory. He was to consider Naples as his India, and to perfect the sacrifice he had made of himself to God, by the surrender of his inclinations. Thenceforward he looked upon Naples as that province in the vineyard of our Lord, which the divine husbandman wished him to exclusively cultivate. Such was the sovereign will of God, manifested in the command of his superiors, and in which our humble saint acquiesced without hesitation; nor was that Providence, which rules events, slow in carrying its purpose into effect.

The superiors, in 1678, confided the whole mission to Francis. Here it may be proper to describe the duties such a charge imposed. First, to watch over and maintain the fervor of a pious congregation, who assisted at all the processions, and were the right arm of the missionary: secondly, to preach every Sunday and festival-day during the year, in the squares or other frequented parts of the city; and this not only in Naples, but also in other towns and provinces of the kingdom. And thirdly, to give the monthly invitations to communion. Our saint undertook the first of these obligations with an ardor only surpassed by the success which attended his efforts. He reformed all abuses, and excluded every imperfection that could retard the spiritual advancement of his scholars. He introduced, or established among them, the custom of frequenting the sacraments every Sunday, and on all the festivals of our Lady, and the practice of mental as well as vocal prayer, and of public penance and humiliation. The law of the Gospel he was careful to instil into them by frequent exhortations, and he gave efficacy to his precepts by his example. But as the members of this confraternity were destined to be his partners and coadjutors in the apostolic ministry, he was, above all, assiduous in kindling and keeping alive the flames of zeal in their breasts; so mat they became his zealous and indefatigable assistants. Besides this, he chose seventy-two of the most efficient and capable, with whom he held counsel twice a month, and sent them into the heart of the city, to spy out the evil that existed, and learn what souls stood most in need of ghostly and bodily succor. The vigilance he exercised over all, extended to each in particular. With marvellous dexterity he practised what St. Basil calls the insinuating arts of grace. His charity also and forbearance were unbounded: in sickness he never abandoned them a moment, but continued his affectionate attentions to the last. Another practice, to which he had recourse, to promote piety, was the visit to the seven churches, in commemoration of our Redeemer’s seven journeys. This was performed in the following manner: a procession, carrying the crucifix, chanted the litanies as they went, and at every church where they stopped, Francis delivered an impressive exhortation. The devotion terminated with a renewal of the oblation each one made of himself, to our Lord Jesus and our Lady, with vows of perpetual fidelity.

The second duty, of preaching in public, embraced a much more extensive range, and required a proportionably greater degree of toil. When the Sunday came, he first spent two hours in mental prayer, then said Mass, and afterwards recited the Canonical Hours, bareheaded and kneeling, either in his room, or in the church before the blessed Sacrament. His private devotions being satisfied, he spent the rest of the morning in the Confessional, or with his congregation. At the appointed hour the saint and his companions went into the streets in procession, and then, distributing themselves in divers parts, began to preach to the people. Francis usually mounted a stage, near or opposite to the dancers or mountebanks, who either slunk away at his approach, or vainly strove, through rage and spite, to distract the attention of the audience, who were fascinated by his eloquence. After the. discourse, he would kneel at the foot of the cross, and scourge his shoulders with the discipline: then once more he betook himself to the Confessional, where he remained till the doors of the church were closed. Still his ardor longed for more extensive occupation; and, with the approbation of the superiors, and the concurrence of his companions, he repeated the missionary labors on holidays, during the week as well as Sundays.

The third duty annexed to his charge was the invitation to communion. For nine days preceding the third Sunday of every month he went about the principal streets, along with a few companions; by ringing a little bell, he gave notice of the approaching day of communion; and, to excite the attention of his hearers, recited, in a loud voice, some short, but sententious maxim or admonition from Holy Writ. Thus he continued all the morning until dinner-hour, and after noon resumed his task with never-wearying zeal till nightfall.

In the suburbs, also, of Naples, he performed this laborious duty; nor is it easy to conceive the pains and privations it cost him; how, under the scorching sun, or pouring rain, he journeyed through marshes, over rocks, oft times to the peril of life and limb, and always on foot, until, in his latter days, he was constrained to ride. When the day arrived, and from fifteen to twenty thousand communicants appeared, Francis used his strenuous efforts to keep order among them. The troops of men and women who came from the adjoining towns and villages, he received at the door, and placed in their respective posts. The children, crowned with flowers, were welcomed by him with tears of joy; but it was in imparting to them the life-giving food, that his soul overflowed with tenderness, and the love of Jesus beamed from his countenance, and thrilled in the fervid expressions with which he excited their devotion. Such were the labors of our saint’s mission, and such the manner he discharged them. On the feast of the Immaculate Conception of our Lady, in the year 1682, Francis made his solemn profession; on which occasion he manifested that humility which distinguished him, by falling on his knees in public, and kissing the feet of the superior, thanking him aloud for admitting so unworthy a member into the society.

Before we enter further into the detail of his apostolic career, it may not be improper to give some notions of that quality whereby he wrought so many wonders,—his extraordinary eloquence. His voice was loud and sonorous, and was heard distinctly at a great distance; and the style of his preaching was copious, simple, and impressive. No one ever knew the human passions better, or swayed them with more tact and delicacy. Sometimes he stole upon his hearers with an insinuating grace, that charmed them almost unconsciously into persuasion; at other times, he would pour out such a volley of arguments, sustained by suitable quotations from Scripture, or the fathers, and illustrated by all the images of a lively fancy, so as to overpower all opposition, and force conviction on the most stubborn. His descriptions were forcible and graphic; his pathetic appeals were sure to draw tears, and his energy astounded and terrified. Indeed, he was accustomed to speak with so much vehemence, as occasionally to bring blood to his lips: he often talked himself hoarse, and till his palate was parched; and once, in the midst of an animated invective against sins, he dropped down suddenly and swooned away. The method he ordinarily pursued in his discourses, was first to paint the enormous malice of sin and the terrors of the Divine judgments, in colors so striking as to raise self-indignation and alarm in sinners Then, changing his tone with a master-skill, he dwelt upon the sweetness and mildness of Jesus Christ, so as to make despair give way to hope, and the most hardened melt into compunction. This moment he seized, to make an appeal so tender and so overpowering as to cause his hearers to bend their knees before the image of their crucified Lord, and implore, in tears, and sobs, and broken accents, forgiveness and reconciliation. It was usual for him to subjoin, at the conclusion, some striking example of God’s chastisements or favors, whereby his audience might carry away a deeper and more lively impression of the truths he had just been inculcating. His eloquence, however, was less the result of any natural talent, than of his ardent love of God and zeal for his service. When he was to preach, he used to note down in few words his arguments, authorities, and examples; and at the foot of the crucifix, he prepared himself to treat on his affairs with men, by communing with God. Thence, like another Moses, he descended—all on fire from his colloquy with the Deity; and it seemed as if God himself often inspired him with expressions of supernatural efficacy.

It was matter of surprise to all who knew him, how he could possibly go through so many labors, which were more than sufficient to occupy five missionaries, and far beyond the natural strength of his weak constitution and emaciated frame; so that it was not unreasonably thought, that to prolong such exertions for the space of forty years, he must have been supported by a miracle. He was in constant attendance on the hospitals, prisons, and galleys, besides visiting the sick in their houses, and ministering to the spiritual necessities of monasteries, asylums, confraternities, and schools. The consequence of these labors was the amendment of numberless sinners; the conversion of several Turkish infidels to the faith of Jesus Christ; and the introduction of a surprising regularity of manner in those habitual abodes of wretchedness and vice—the galleys and the prisons. His zeal also reclaimed the soldiery from a state of the greatest disorder to the most edifying piety. Still, however, his ardor, which knew no bounds, thirsted for more fruit; accordingly he used to go and preach, during the night, in the very hotbeds and receptacles of vice, that sinners might be awed into repentance by the novelty and solemnity of this warning, at the hour when they least apprehended interruption. Once our saint, being in prayer in his chamber, felt a sudden inspiration to go out and preach, which, by the advice of his superiors, he obeyed. For some time, he wandered in the dark—he knew not whither, till he came to the corner of a street, where he began to preach on the necessity of immediate correspondence with the divine grace; and having finished, returned home, satisfied with having complied with his duty, though ignorant to what purpose, or with what fruit. The next morning, however, a young woman came to him to confession; and, with signs of the bitterest compunction, told him that when in company the evening before with her paramour, her attention was suddenly arrested by his voice in the street, denouncing God’s vengeance against unrepenting and procrastinating sinners, which so terrified her that she began to exhort her partner in guilt to break off their unlawful intercourse. To this, however, he would by no means consent, and even laughed at and derided the holy man’s threats: when, to her horror, she beheld their awful fulfilment. For the man suddenly ceasing to speak, she found him a breathless corpse; his soul having taken its flight to God’s tribunal, while the words of blasphemy were yet upon his lips. Plunged into the greatest alarm by this catastrophe, she implored pardon of God, with sighs and tears, and now came to effect her reconciliation, and to expiate her past scandals by a life of penance.

Francis had to experience many mortifying contradictions. Yielding to certain representations, the cardinal archbishop forbade him to preach any more. The humble saint uttered no complaint or remonstrance, but consoled his zeal by a perpetual attendance in the confessional. Soon after, moved by the conduct of the saint, as well as by the entreaties of wiser and more virtuous advisers, who assured him that he was depriving Naples of its apostle, the cardinal gave Francis back his faculties. For the purpose of proving his virtue, the superior forbade him to quit the house without obtaining express permission—a command with which Francis for several months scrupulously complied; till the father, edified by his humility, and convinced of his virtue, removed the restraint. Even the lay-brother who was assigned him, being a man of morose temper, was a great cause of trouble to him. Where his zeal thought to effect most good, it often met with the harshest construction and reproof. He was abused as a meddling busybody—a disturber of the public quiet. He was often overwhelmed with outrages, and more than once turned out of doors. A certain cavalier had such an aversion for him, that he could not bear his presence. A large sum was intrusted to Francis for this person, with whom he more than once sought an interview, without being able to attain it. “Well!” said the cavalier, who admitted him at last, “what brings you here? the usual story! charity, I suppose—I’ve nothing for you.” “My lord duke,” replied the saint, “I certainly have a small favor to ask, which is, that you would exercise your benevolence so far as to furnish a poor person with money to purchase a bed to sleep upon. And this cannot inconvenience you, for in the purse I here present, you will find two hundred ducats, which I have been the means of restoring to you.” The cavalier exclaimed, in a rage: “That’s not all.” “Nay,” replied the saint, “I know nothing, but that such a sum was given to me.” “And by whom?” “I cannot inform you.” Whereupon he snatched the purse out of his hands, and turning his back upon him, left him to depart. But not long after he had occasion to recall him: for falling dangerously ill, he was anxious to conciliate the man he had so grossly insulted; and though he was then forty miles distant from Naples, he sent for him. The saint assisted him at the hour of his death, to his great spiritual advantage and consolation.

His charity, indeed, towards those who injured him, was remarkable. Attempting one day to quell a strife among some soldiers, he received from one of them a blow upon the head that drew blood copiously: and when the captain, hearing of it, would have punished the man severely for the sacrilege, our saint did not desist from his entreaties until he obtained his pardon. Even in the tribunal of confession he was not secure from insults. Two poor women had come from a great distance to confession, and were anxious to get home early, as there was no one to take care of their houses in their absence. Whereupon the saint requested a man, who was also waiting, to allow them precedence. This he did, but with a very bad grace. He even threw out a slanderous insinuation against the saint; who, after he had dismissed the women, heard the confession of this very man, and treated him with so much sweetness and charity, that he sent him away with an altered temper and feelings of esteem and admiration.

One of the most frequent and effectual instruments which our saint employed for the sanctification of souls, were the spiritual exercises of St. Ignatius. It is impossible to conceive with what energy and fruit he delivered the meditations which compose this course of Christian philosophy Often he was obliged to interrupt his discourses, that the sighs, tears, and sobs which they occasioned, might subside. Private individuals, as well as communities—ignorant and learned—the aged and the young of both sexes, alike profited by his exhortations, and to such a pitch of enthusiasm did he excite the compunction of sinners, that they openly declared their offences and inflicted severe chastisements upon themselves, so that sometimes he was necessary to restrain their ardor. Nor was this a transient effect, but a durable benefit; hence followed many conversions of sinners, who for ten, twenty, or thirty, or even fifty years, had thrown off the yoke of religion. Indeed, Francis possessed a wonderful tact in bringing back sinners to duty, as the following examples will show.

A certain man had not been to the sacraments for five-and-twenty years; at length, admonished more than once in a dream to have recourse to our saint, he obeyed, to his own great happiness and the glory of Our Lady, to whose mercy he was indebted for the admonition. Another, commencing his confession, was asked by the saint, how long it was since he had last made it; whereat he burst into tears, and besought the holy man not to dismiss him, for that he was a great sinner; but he, bidding him not be discouraged, asked him if it was ten, twenty, or fifty years? “Fifty,” said he, “exactly, father, have I kept aloof from God.” “Kept aloof from God?” repeated Francis, “why should you avoid so tender a parent—a Saviour, who has poured out the last drop of his blood for you? Nay, rather turn and meet Him who has been running after you so long.” And the man confessed with sincerity and compunction all the crimes he had committed, and thenceforward led a virtuous life. An inveterate sinner was once dying, without giving any sign of hope, or manifesting a wish to repent. After Francis had urged him long in vain to confide in the mercies of God, suddenly changing his tone, he thus addressed him: “Do you think that God incurs any obligation, if you accept his offer of Paradise; or that he must needs mourn if you prefer hell? how many princes and nobles are lost, whom God suffers to perish; and do you suppose God cares more for you? If you will be damned, be so;” and he turned away from him. This sudden and impressive address wrought a wonderful change in the dying man, who in an agony of grief and alarm, besought the saint not to abandon him. He then confessed his sins, with every demonstration of sincere contrition, and expired full of hope. Indeed, no heart, however hardened, could withstand the exhortations of the holy man. A young man once threw himself at the feet of the saint, exclaiming: “Father, behold here, not a human being, but a very demon: a soul abandoned to despair. Many years ago, a confessor denied me absolution; I have never since confessed, never heard mass, never entered a church, or even as much as recited a Hail Mary, or made the sign of the cross. Alas, I have even gone so far in wickedness as to league myself with Satan, and to have recourse to his aid, through those who are skilled in the black art. Can I, after such a life, presume to hope; dare I ask for mercy?” “Why not, my son?” replied Francis: “it is true thy crimes are great, yet doth the mercy of God surpass their magnitude: was it not for sinners that Jesus Christ died? There is yet pardon for thee, if thou wilt seek it earnestly, and fervently, and set about reforming instantly thy life.” These consoling words revived the sinner, long dead in iniquity, and gave to God a persevering penitent.

Still more remarkable is the following occurrence, which the saint was accustomed to relate in his public sermons. One day a young man presented himself before him, with a grave and devout air: “Father,” said he, “I am come to declare to you the wonders of God’s mercy in my regard, and to beseech you both to return him thanks for his signal favors, and to counsel me how I may best profit by them. Many years have elapsed since I was addicted to a certain vice, which struck such deep root into my soul, that God permitted my reason to be clouded, and my heart to be changed, so that I fancied myself a beast. In this persuasion I stripped myself of clothing, and wandered through the fields, and crawled along the ground exposed to the sun and rain, the frost and the snow, in company with the irrational animals, partaking their food, and imitating their cries. After a year of this life it pleased God to take compassion on me, and to restore me to my reason. Words cannot describe the confusion and shame I felt. I clearly perceived that it had been a punishment of my sins. I made the best confession I was able, as soon as I could, and have lived ever since, by God’s grace, up to his divine laws. What think you—hath he not used unparalleled mercy towards me?” Our saint, embracing him, said: “In very deed doth the sinner become like the brute beast, that hath no understanding.” He approved his present conduct, confirmed his sentiments, and comforted him by the assurance that God would never withdraw his grace from him, so long as he was faithful to his resolutions.

An assassin, who had been hired to murder some persons, passing a crowd to whom the saint was preaching, stopped on his road, saying within himself, “Perhaps he whom I seek is among this multitude.” Whereupon he stood to observe, and could not help hearing the discourse of the preacher, and hearing, was, as it were, spell-bound to the spot. When suddenly these words caught his ear—“Thousands bewail past sins, and dost thou, wretched sinner, meditate new crimes? Unhappy creature, whom neither the arm of God outstretched to launch his thunderbolts, nor hell opening beneath thy feet to swallow thee, can deter from thy wickedness!” His guilty conscience smote him, his heart turned away from evil, he confessed his enormities, and from a murderer became a saint. A youth of disordered life was so moved by another sermon of Francis, that overcoming every human respect, he cast himself in public at the foot of the crucifix, and exclaimed—“Father, I am lost: for nearly twenty years I have not been to a confessor;” and so saying, wept bitterly, and lashed himself with the discipline. Then, accompanying the confraternity to the Gesu Nuovo, he sought Francis, who embraced him like a tender father, and exhorted him to have confidence in God, with whom he was instrumental in reconciling him. The young man not only forsook his former vicious habits, but exhibited a model of repentance, and persevered in an exemplary life. But if, on the one hand, the happiest results were experienced by all who attended to his counsels, on the other, grievous chastisements often befell those who neglected or despised his warnings. A youth of depraved conduct had the effrontery to laugh at and deride his remonstrances, and even dared to heap abuse upon him. Francis bore all meekly, in imitation of our Blessed Saviour, “who when he was reviled, did not revile;” but God would not suffer such a crime to go unpunished, for shortly after the young man perished miserably in a riot. But it is now time to take a rapid view of his labors out of Naples.

The fame of his great achievements in this city occasioned earnest solicitations to be made, that the fields of his exertions might be extended to the provinces. But Naples was by no means willing to surrender its apostle, even for a short time; and the intervention of several distinguished persons was requisite to effect the desired object. In upwards of a hundred missions, which Francis undertook in consequence, he traversed all the provinces of the kingdom, with the exception of the Calabrias. Incredible were the hardships and privations he encountered,—the difficulties and obstacles he surmounted in the execution of this work of charity. Wherever he went the clergy and most respectable inhabitants came out to meet him, and gave him an honorable reception. Without however losing a moment, the indefatigable servant of God commenced his career by an introductory discourse, and an invocation of the tutelar saint and guardian angels of the place. At daybreak he celebrated mass, and spent the remainder of the morning in a manner somewhat similar to that already described, in speaking of his missions in Naples. It was an edifying and affecting sight, to witness the communion of the children, and the procession of penitents through the streets. But when at length he came to give the concluding discourse, and to repeat his farewell admonitions, then was it that the fruit of his exertions was perceptible. The seed of grace, which had struck deep root, gave signs of vigorous growth and duration; for when he exhorted the people to perseverance, with one voice they promised to preserve inviolably their engagements; and when he imparted his last blessing, with his customary “adieu, to meet again in Paradise,” no words can describe, no imagination is able to conceive, the emotions of the multitude.

Not always, however, did Francis meet with such consoling encouragement, to his zeal. The devil, raging to behold so many souls redeemed from his snares by the active charity of the holy man, spared no pains to molest and baffle him, by raising against him hosts of enemies, who threw discredit upon his conduct, fomented suspicions and jealousies, and waged war against him by every possible art that bad passions or his own malignant spirit could suggest. Hence it not unfrequently happened that he experienced insults instead of welcome, on his arrival at places where calumnies had beforehand been industriously spread. Sometimes he found no attention paid to his exhortations; yet, finally, his invincible forbearance and persevering charity, his saintly demeanor—itself a confutation of his calumniators—triumphed over all opposition. Few details respecting these memorable missions have been recorded, but some, preserved by the testimony of eye-witnesses, have been rescued from the oblivion of time.

When the holy man was on his way to Capua, the carriage stuck in a deep ditch, and resisted all the efforts of the driver to extricate it. Whereupon, after the manner of this class of persons, he began to curse and swear. “O my son,” cried the saint, “blaspheme not, for God’s sake.” “Why, father,” said the man, “would not a saint swear in such an infernal hobble, with nobody near, nor a chance of any one’s coming to assist us?” “Have patience,” rejoined the holy man; and as he was yet speaking, two robust young men, turning the corner of the road, volunteered their services and relieved the travellers from their difficulty; after which, without waiting to be thanked, they disappeared. Wherever he went he reconciled enemies, converted sinners, besides performing many prodigies.

He had to contend against obstacles of another description. He applied to Monsignor Capece, bishop of Cheti, a capital town of the Abruzzi, for leave to preach there. “Certainly,” replied the bishop; “but, Father Francis, you must be forewarned ours is a sensible and cultivated city, accustomed and able to weigh well the force of reason; and therefore you will at once perceive that certain addresses to the senses, such as the exposition of the crucifix, or images of the Virgin and other saints,—things admirable in themselves, would here be quite out of place, and calculated to do more harm than good.” “Your lordship’s wishes shall assuredly be attended to,” said the humble saint, “till such time at least as you yourself shall deem it proper to recall them.”

Not long after this the prelate felt an acute pain, for which he could not account; but as his conscience troubled him, he sent word to the saint, that in regard to the subject of their conversation he might use his discretion. The bishop had himself more than one occasion of witnessing the fruit which the practices he was disposed to condemn invariably produced; and Francis knew so well how to employ them, that the mission of Cheti succeeded beyond the most sanguine expectations. With the like fruit did Francis perform the missions in various other towns, working conversions and prodigies too numerous to he here mentioned.

It would be superfluous to enlarge upon the particular virtues of our saint; his public life being rather the subject of this history. Yet are we unwilling to pass over, unnoticed, his great and fervent love of Jesus Christ. Especially he honored and worshipped him in his divine infancy, his sacred passion, and his adorable sacrament. When he meditated upon these mysteries, he was always absorbed and penetrated with love; and when he approached the sacrament of the altar, his countenance glowed, as though he stood before a fire. Nothing provoked his indignation, or drew down his severe rebuke, so much as disrespect towards the blessed Eucharist. He removed many abuses: he would not suffer any levity in the church; and once reproved a lady of quality who had remained seated during the consecration. In like manner he was tenderly devoted to our blessed Lady. For twenty-two years he preached a sermon in her praise and honor every week. To youth especially, it was his custom to recommend this devotion as the surest preservation of innocence, and the best remedy after sin: saying that one could hardly be saved who felt no devotion towards the Mother of God. Mary was his counsellor in doubt, his comfort in toil, his strength in all his enterprises, his refuge in danger and distress. He experienced an inexpressible delight whenever he recited the rosary of our tender Mother. He was likewise particularly devoted to his angel guardian, to St. Francis Xavier, and St. Januarius. His charity, humility, purity, and obedience, were never surpassed; nor did God withhold from him those gifts with which he is pleased at times to favor his chosen servants.

Our saint was favored with the foreknowledge of his dissolution. On the death of his brother he observed, “A year hence we shall meet;” and while he was still in health, taking leave of the nuns of St. Mary del Divino Amore—“My dear daughters,” said he, “this is the last time I shall ever address you. Do not forget me in your prayers; adieu till we meet in Paradise.” When he was sick, the festival of St. Cyr drawing near, “I shall not live to see it,” he exclaimed. And finally, when the physician that attended him paid him his last visit, he thanked him for his attentions, and said:—“We shall never see each other again on this side of the grave, for Monday will be the last day of my life.”

During the month of March, 1715, at the beginning of Lent, he was, for the third time, giving the retreat to the students of the noble college, when suddenly he felt a racking fever assail his limbs, insomuch that he was obliged to be carried home. In a few days, however, it was somewhat subdued; and, though weak, he resumed his usual labors. Still his health declined, and towards December his constitution appeared quite broken down. Anxious to preserve so valuable a life, the superior sent him to take the mineral waters of Puzzuoli. But he experienced not the smallest benefit; and in March, 1716, on his return to Naples, he took up his abode in the infirmary. The agonies he suffered are not to be expressed; and yet a murmur never escaped him. “Blessed be God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who consoles us in all tribulation,” was his constant exclamation. When some one approached to sympathize with him, the heroic man crossed his hands on his breast, saying: “Crescant in mille millia.” He was told of the great good he had achieved. “Nothing, nothing,” he cried, “the fault I have most to apprehend is my slothfulness.”

Death now began to hasten on apace; wherefore, on the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross, making a general confession, he received the viaticum; and six days later was anointed. All night long, he gave vent to the fulness of his heart in such expressions as the following—“Let us bless the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost; let us praise and exalt Him forever. Great is the Lord, and exceedingly to be praised, in the city of our God, on his holy mountain.” Then kissing the wounds of his crucified Saviour, he cried out, weeping, “Remember, dear Jesus, that this soul has cost the ransom of every drop of thy precious blood.” And when the infirmarian entreated him to pray rather with his heart than his lips, by reason of the distress which speaking occasioned him: “Ah, my dear brother,” said he, “whatsoever we think, or say of so great a God, his greatness is beyond all thought and expression.” Then fixing his eyes upon an image of our Lady:—“Ah, Mary,” said he, “my dearest mother, thou hast ever cherished me like a loving parent, though I have been thy too, too unworthy child. Complete now the measure of thy mercies in my regard, by obtaining for me the love of thy divine Son.” Then, as though at the gate of Paradise, he exclaimed, “How great is the house of the Lord! Blessed are they who dwell in Thy house, O Lord; forever and ever shall they sing thy praise. Ye holy angels, why delay ye? Open the gates of Justice. Entering therein, I will praise the Lord.”

His malady, however, continued for some days longer. Although he had repeatedly expressed a wish to be left alone, it was impossible to keep away numbers, who pressed to see him for the last time, to kiss his hand, and to receive his farewell blessing. With an amiable sweetness, he welcomed them all; and seeing their sorrow, said:—“Weep not; I go to heaven, where I shall remember you, and be better able to assist you.” But what sunshine so serene is not occasionally clouded, what sea so calm as never to be ruffled by a storm? It pleased God to enhance our saint’s virtue by submitting it to a dreadful trial. The frame of the holy man shook under the severity of the struggle. With a loud cry he called upon the Almighty, the eternal Son, our Lady, and all the saints, to save him. Being asked the cause of this fearful commotion, “I am fighting,” he exclaimed, “fighting! pray for God’s sake that I may not perish.” Then, as if rebuking the evil spirit, he cried—“No, it shall never be. Begone! I have no part with you.” His countenance at last brightening, he repeated softly, “’Tis well, ’tis well!” and so saying, chanted the Magnificat and Te Deum. He was anxious to receive the holy sacrament; but the superior did not judge it advisable, as he had lately been to communion; and the humble saint acquiesced. He now fell into his agony; the recommendation of a departing soul was recited; and, amidst the tears of his brethren, Francis di Girolamo expired, about mid-day, on Monday, the 11th of May, 1716, in the seventy-fourth year of his age, and the forty-sixth of his religious life, having spent forty years in the labors of an apostolic career.

Although, from a motive of prudence, the superior had forbidden the bell to be tolled, to announce his death, there needed no sound to convey the intelligence through the city; it was read in every countenance, and spread so rapidly, that in a short time the Gesù Nuovo was filled with an immense concourse of people of all classes. The infirmarian being desirous of keeping some relic of so holy a man, before he laid him out in the sacerdotal habit, pared off a piece of the hard skin of the sole of his foot. But the pious theft soon became apparent, though he had used every effort to conceal it; for the blood began to flow so freely from the wound, as not merely to stain the linen, but to fill a vial holding three or four ounces: which portion being preserved, retained during three months its ruddiness and liquidity, and wrought many cures.

In the evening the body was carried into the church, that the office might be chanted, and a detachment of Swiss guards was hardly sufficient to protect it from the indiscreet devotion of the crowd. Indeed, three psalms had scarcely been sung, before they broke through all restraint, and pressed towards the body, eager to carry away some relic, especially to dip their handkerchiefs in the blood, which still streamed from the wound already mentioned. At length, the body was removed into a side-chapel, where it was secured against further violence by iron railing, through which, at the same time, it was visible to all. Still it was impossible to refuse the prayer of several devout persons, to be permitted to approach and kiss the hand of the saint, and at night some artists were admitted to take likenesses and effigies of him. A throng of suppliants crowded to the church next morning, and implored the saint to deliver them from their evils and distempers. Nor were they disappointed. Many cures took place on the spot, and the church again and again echoed with the cry of “A miracle, a miracle!” Three days the body was left thus exposed, and the fourth was buried in a leaden coffin. On the 3d of July, 1736, leave being obtained, the coffin of our saint was disinterred, and the body was found mouldered into dust, which was carefully collected, deposited in another coffin of wood lined with brass, and translated from the common cemetery to the chapel of Saint Ignatius.

Numerous miracles quickly spread the fame of his holiness throughout Italy. He was scarcely dead, when the most prudent and virtuous individuals gave him the title of saint: and cardinal Orsini, afterwards Benedict XIII., who was singularly devoted to him, preached his panegyric in the cathedral of Benevento. Not long after his decease, the city of Naples, joined by Benevento, Nola, and several others, petitioned the Congregation of Rites to have him beatified; and the juridical process of his virtues and miracles was drawn up, and sent to Rome by Cardinal Pignatelli, in conjunction with other cardinals, nobles, and magistrates of the kingdom. After the requisite preliminaries, a decree declaring his heroic virtues was published by Benedict XIII., on the 2d of May, 1758. His miracles were approved by another, of Pius VII., dated the 9th of February, 1806, and finally the definitive decree of his beatification was issued by the same pontiff, on the feast of St. Joseph in the same year. He was subsequently canonized by Gregory XVI., on Trinity Sunday, 26th May, 1839.

The martyr sheds his blood but once, and is exalted forever; then what reward will be prepared for the missionary, who, while he burns to die for the faith, is yet content to live for the greater honor and glory of God, and the profit of his neighbor? He, therefore, who would imbibe the spirit of zeal, and learn the arts of wisdom necessary in directing souls, should study and contemplate the career of that extraordinary man whose virtues and achievements are the subject of the sketch we here present.

MAY 12 — SS. NEREUS AND ACHILLEUS, MARTYRS

They were eunuchs or chamberlains belonging to St. Flavia Domitilla, zealous Christians, and with her were banished by Domitian into a little isle on the coast of Terracina, called Pontia. Their acts say, that they were afterwards beheaded at Terracina, under Trajan. Their festival was kept at Rome with great solemnity, in the sixth age, when St. Gregory the Great spoke on it his twenty-eighth homily, in which he says: “These saints, before whose tomb we are assembled, despised the world and trampled it under their feet, where peace, plenty, riches, and health gave it charms.” Their old church in Rome lay in ruins, when Baronius, to whom it gave the title of Cardinal, rebuilt it with splendor, and restored to it their relics, which had been removed to the chapel of St. Adrian.

MAY 12 — ST. FLAVIA DOMITILLA, V. M

She was niece to the consul and martyr. St. Flavius Clemens, being the daughter of his sister, as Eusebius testifies;1 consequently she was little niece of the emperor Domitian, who, having put to death her illustrious uncle, banished her for her faith into Pontia. There she lived with her holy eunuchs, Nereus and Achilleus, in exercises of devotion, they all dwelling in separate cells, which remained standing three hundred years after. St. Jerom tells us, that St. Paula, going from Rome to Jerusalem, took this island in her way, visited them with respect and devotion, and by the sight of them was animated with fervor. That father calls her banishment a long martyrdom. Nerva and Trajan were perhaps unwilling to restore the relations of Domitian with the other exiles whom they recalled. The acts of SS. Nereus and Achilleus say that she returned to Terracina and was there burnt under Trajan, because she refused to sacrifice to idols. Her relics are kept together with those of SS. Nereus and Achilleus; who, though her servants here on earth, enjoy an equal honor and condition with her in glory.*

This royal virgin found true happiness and joy in suffering for virtue, while worldly pomp and honors are only masks which often cover the basest slavery, and much inward bitterness. Sinners who seem the most fortunate in the eyes of the world, feel in their own breasts frequent returns of fear, anxiety, and remorse. They are only enemies to solitude and retirement, and to all serious and calm reflection, because they cannot bear to look into themselves, and tremble at the very sight of their own frightful wounds. To turn their eyes from themselves, they study to drown their faculties in a hurry of dissipation, business, or diversion. Nay, though nauseated and tired with a dull and tasteless repetition of follies, they choose to repeat them still, for fear of being left alone, at liberty to think of themselves. But what becomes of them when sickness, disasters, or a wakeful hour forces them to take a view of their own miserable state, and the dangers which hang over them? Their gaudy show of happiness is merely exterior, and only imposes upon others: but their pangs and agonies are interior: these they themselves feel. The servant of God, who in his sweet love enjoys an inward peace and comfort which the whole world cannot rob him of, carries his paradise within his own breast, whatever storms hover about him.

MAY 12 — ST. PANCRAS, M

He is said to have suffered at Rome in the fourteenth year of his age. Having been beheaded for the faith, which he had gloriously confessed under Dioclesian in the year 304, he was interred in the cemetery of Calepodius, which afterwards took his name. His old church in that place was repaired in the fifth century by pope Symmachus, and in the seventh by pope Honorius I. St. Gregory the Great speaks of his relics. St. Gregory of Tours1 calls him the Avenger of Perjuries, and says that God by a perpetual miracle visibly punished false oaths made before his relics. Pope Vitalian sent a portion of them to king Oswi in 656.2 Italy, England France, Spain, &c., abound with churches which bear his name.3 See D. Jenichen, Diss. de S. Pancratio, urbis et ecclesiæ primariæ Giessensis patrono titulari, in 4to. anno 1758, at Giessen, a university in Upper Hesse, belonging to the landgrave of Hesse Darmstadt.

MAY 12 — ST. EPIPHANIUS, ARCHBISHOP OF SALAMIS, CONFESSOR

From his works, Socrates, Sozomen, and St. Jerom. See Tillemont. t. 9. Ceiliier, t. 8, and La Vie de S Epiphane, avec l’Analyse des Ouvrages de ce Saint, et son Apologie, in 4to. Paris, 1738, by M. Gervaise formerly abbot of La Trappe.

A. D. 403.

ST. EPIPHANIUS was born about the year 310, in the territory of Eleuthelopolis, in Palestine. To qualify himself for the study of the holy scriptures, he learned in his youth the Hebrew, the Egyptian, the Syriac, the Greek, and the Latin languages. His frequent conversation with St. Hilarion and other holy anchorets, whom he often visited to receive their instructions, gave him a strong inclination to a monastic life, which he embraced very young. If he made his first essay in Palestine, as M. Gervaise is persuaded upon the authority of the saint’s Greek life, attributed by many to Metaphrastes, at least it is certain he went soon into Egypt to perfect himself in the exercises of that state, in the deserts of that country. He returned into Palestine about the year 333, and built a monastery near the place of his birth. His labors in the exercise of virtue seemed to some to surpass his strength; but his apology always was: “God gives not the kingdom of heaven but on the condition that we labor; and all we can do bears no proportion to such a crown.” To his corporal austerities he added an indefatigable application to prayer and study.*

Most books there in vogue passed through his hands; and he improved himself very much in learning by his travels into many parts. The great St. Hilarion had spent twenty-two years in the desert when God made him known to the world by the lustre of his virtues and an extraordinary gift of miracles, about the year 328. St. Epiphanius, though the skilful director of many others, regarded him as his master in a spiritual life, and enjoyed the happiness of his direction and intimate acquaintance from the year 333 to 356, in which Tillemont, who seems to have settled most correctly the chronology of St. Hilarion’s life, places the departure of that great saint out of Palestine. St. Jerom gives us to understand in his life, that never was union of two friends more intimate or more constant, which even this separation was not able to interrupt. The church of Salamis seems to have been determined by St. Hilarion to demand Epiphanius for their bishop, and this latter consecrated his pen after the death of St. Hilarion, to make known his virtue to the world. In the dreadful persecution which the Arians raised against the Catholics in the reign of Constantius, St. Epiphanius often left his cell to comfort and encourage the latter; and his zeal obliged him to separate himself from the communion of his diocesan Eutychius, bishop of Eleutheropolis, who, against his own conscience, out of human political motives, entered into a confederation with Acacius and other heretics against the truth.1 In reading the works of Origen, he was shocked at many errors which he discovered in them, and began early in his life to precaution the faithful against the same.2

St. Epiphanius in his monastery was the oracle of Palestine and the neighboring countries; and no one ever went from him who had not received great spiritual comfort by his holy advice. The reputation of his virtue made him known to distant countries; and about the year 367, he was chosen bishop of Salamis, then called Constantia, in Cyprus. But he still wore the monastic habit, and continued to govern his monastery in Palestine, which he visited from time to time. He sometimes relaxed his austerities in favor of hospitality, preferring charity to abstinence. No one surpassed him in tenderness and charity to the poor. Many pious persons made him the dispenser of their large alms. St. Olympias, to have a share in his benediction, made him great presents in money and lands for that purpose. The veneration which all men had for his sanctity, exempted him from the persecution of the Arian emperor Valens in 371; but he was almost the only Catholic bishop in that part of the empire who was entirely spared on that occasion. In 376, he undertook a journey to Antioch to endeavor the conversion of Vitalis the Apollinarist bishop; and in 382, he accompanied St. Paulinus from that city to Rome, where they lodged at the house of St. Paula; our saint in return entertained her afterwards ten days in Cyprus, in 385. The saint fell into some mistakes on certain occasions, which proceeded from zeal and simplicity, as Socrates observes. The very name of an error in faith, or the shadow of danger of evil, affrighted him. At Jerusalem, in 394, he preached against Origenism in presence of the patriarch John, whom he suspected to lean towards that heresy. At Bethlehem he persuaded Saint Jerom to separate himself from his communion, unless he publicly purged himself. He also ordained, by compulsion, Paulinian, the brother of St. Jerom, priest; but, upon the complaint of John, carried him into Cyprus to serve his church at Salamis. At Constantinople he impeached the tall brothers for Origenism, having been prepossessed against them by the clamors of Theophilus. He even blamed Saint Chrysostom for affording them his protection; but a mild expostulation of that saint opened his eyes, and he hastened back to Salamis, but died on the voyage thither in 403 having been bishop thirty-six years. His disciples built a church in his honor in Cyprus, where they placed his and many other pious pictures, (Conc.,1. 7, p. 447.) Sozomen testifies that God honored his tomb with miracles, (b. 7, ch. 27.) St. Austin, St Ephrem, St. John Damascen, Photius, and others, called him a Catholic doctor, an admirable man, and one filled with the spirit of God.*

MAY 12 — ST. GERMANUS, PATRIARCH OF CONSTANTINOPLE

He was the son of a famous senator named Justinian. From his youth he shone as a bright light among the clergy, and was chosen bishop of Cyzicus, and in 715, patriarch of Constantinople. In the most degenerate times he kept virtue in countenance and vice in awe, and strenuously defended the faith with equal zeal, learning, and prudence, first against the Monothelites, and afterwards against the Iconoclasts. When Leo the Isaurian commanded by an edict all holy images to be abolished, in 725, the patriarch refused to take them out of the churches; and boldly maintained, even before the emperor himself, the honor which the church taught to be due to them; in which he was seconded by St. John Damascen, who then lived in the court of the caliph of the Saracens. St. Germanus put the emperor in mind of what he had promised at his coronation, and how he took God to witness that he would not alter any of the traditions of the church. The emperor, after he found that he could not gain the patriarch by flattering words, endeavored to provoke him to let fall some injurious expression, that he might be accused as a seditious person. But the saint was too well instructed in the school of Christ to forget the rules of meekness and patience. The emperor grew every day more outrageous against him, accusing the emperors his predecessors, and all the bishops and Christians, of idolatry; for he was too ignorant to distinguish between a relative and an absolute worship. After much ill usage, the patriarch was unjustly compelled by the heretics, in 730, to leave his church, when he had governed it fourteen years five months. He employed the leisure which his banishment procured him at Platanium, his paternal house, in weeping for the evils of the church, and in preparing himself, by the most fervent exercises of penance and devotion, for eternity, which he happily entered on the 12th of May, 733. The elegance and politeness of his writings, especially of his apology for St. Gregory of Nyssa against the Origenists,† are admired by Photius.1 See Theophanes and St. Nicephorus. The saints in all ages have found trials. Heaven is not to be obtained but upon this condition. The expectation of its glory made them embrace their crosses with joy. With St. Chrysostom2 they often repealed: “If I were to die a thousand times a day, nay, for some time to suffer hell itself, that I may behold Christ in his glory, all would be too little.”

MAY 12 — ST. RICTRUDES, ABBESS

This mother of saints was a lady of the first quality in France, born in Gascony in 614, and married to Adalbald, one of the principal lords of the court of king Clovis. She had by him four children, who, copying after her example, and being happily educated in her maxims of perfect piety, deserved all to be honored among the saints: namely, St. Mauront, abbot of Breüil, St. Clotsenda, abbess of Marchiennes, St. Eusebia, or Isoye, abbess of Hamay, and St. Adalsenda, a nun at Hamay. So great a benediction does the sanctity of parents draw upon a whole family. St. Amand being banished into the southern parts of France, Rictrudes finding him to be truly a man of God, committed herself entirely to his direction, to walk with fervor in the paths of evangelical perfection. The death of her husband, who was assassinated in his return from his estates in Flanders, not only set her at liberty, but was a powerful means to wean her heart perfectly from the world. Thus the most grievous temporal affliction proved her greatest spiritual blessing. She was yet young, and exceeding rich; and king Clovis II. sought, even by threats, to oblige her to marry one of his favorite courtiers. However, she maintained her ground, and at length was permitted to receive the religious veil from the hands of St. Amand. She had before this founded an abbey of monks on a marshy ground in her estate of Marchiennes, under the direction of St. Amand. Being now a widow, she built a separate monastery for nuns in the same place, which she governed herself forty years. She was clad with rough hair-cloth, and fasted, watched, and prayed almost without intermission. She sighed continually after the goods of the heavenly Jerusalem; for, as St. Bernard says:1 “Thou desirest not sufficiently the joys to come if thou dost not daily ask them with tears. Thou knowest them not, if thy soul doth not refuse all comfort till they come.” When the film with which the love of the world covers the eye of the soul is removed, by a perfect disengagement of the heart from its toys, then she sees and feels the weight of her distance from her God. And till she can be drowned in the ocean of his love, she finds no other comfort in her banishment but in the contemplation of his goodness, and in sighs excited by his love. Rictrudes, that she might more freely pursue these exercises, which were the delight of her heart, resigned her superiority some time before her happy death, which happened on the 12th of May, 688, she being seventy-four years old. This nunnery was abolished, and its revenues given to the monks in the same place, in 1028. The body of St. Rictrudes is honorably entombed in the church of that great Benedictin abbey. Her name is inserted in many monastic and local calendars, and several churches and altars have been formerly erected in Flanders under her invocation, mentioned by Papebroke. In the church of St. Amatus at Douay, in the chapel of St. Mauront, among the statues of the saints of his family the third is of St. Rictrudes. Her life was compiled by Hucbald, a learned monk of St. Amand’s, in 907. Surius altered the style; but this is restored to its original integrity by Mabillon, (Act. Bened. t. 2, p. 938,) and Papebroke the Bollandist, who has enhanced the value of this work by judicious remarks, (t. 3, Maij, p. 80,) and has added several long histories of her miracles compiled by several monks of St. Marchiennes and St. Amand’s in different ages.

MAY 13 — ST. JOHN THE SILENT, B. C

From his excellent life, written by Cyril the monk, his disciple, a little before the death of the saint. See Godeau, Eloges des Eveques Illustres, § 56, p. 330.

A. D. 559.

JOHN had his surname given him from his love of silence and recollection. He was born at Nicopolis in Armenia, in the year 454. His descent by both parents was from the most illustrious generals and governors of that part of the empire; but he derived from their virtue a much more illustrious nobility than that of their pedigree. They were solicitous above all things to give their son the most holy education. After their death, he with part of his estate, built at Nicopolis a church in honor of the Blessed Virgin, as also a monastery, in which, with ten fervent companions, he shut himself up when only eighteen years of age, with a view of making the salvation and most perfect sanctification of his soul his only and earnest pursuit, directing to this end all his thoughts and endeavors. As humility is the foundation and guardian of all virtue, this he labored in the first place to obtain. Accordingly he made it his earnest petition to God; and, by assiduous meditation on his own nothingness, his absolute insufficiency, numberless miseries, and baseness, and on the infinite majesty and adorable perfections of God, he studied to know God and himself. He learned sincerely to look upon all manner of humiliations as his due, and to receive them with joy from whatever quarter they were sent; and cheerfully to exercise himself in those which appeared most repugnant to flesh and blood, and most proper to beat down all secret sentiments of pride. To kill the seeds of all other vices, he practised the most constant and severe denial of his own will, and he added corporal austerities to subdue his flesh, and to fit his soul for the spiritual functions of contemplation and prayer. Not only to shun the danger of sin by the tongue, but also out of a sense of sincere humility and contempt of himself, and the love of interior recollection and prayer, he very seldom spoke; and if necessity obliged him to open his mouth, it was always in very few words, and with great discretion. He banished sloth out of his little community as a fruitful source of vice, and the poison of all virtue. Some humbling, painful, and useful labor, filled up in his house all the intervals of time which public prayer and other necessary duties left vacant. His mildness, prudence, and piety, won him the esteem and affection of all his brethren, who strove in every virtue to be the copies of their holy abbot. But, to his extreme affliction, when he was only twenty-eight years old, the archbishop of Sebaste obliged him to quit his retreat, and ordained him bishop of Colonian in Armenia in 482.

In this dignity John preserved always the same spirit, and, as much as was compatible with the duties of his charge, continued his monastic austerities and exercises. His brother and nephew, who enjoyed honorable places in the emperor’s palace, were moved by his example to contemn the world in the very midst of its honors, and the same grace which sanctifies ancborets in their deserts, made them saints in the court. But he found not the same comfort in a brother-in-law, who was governor of Armenia, against whose oppressions of his church the saint was obliged to have recourse to the emperor Zeno, and readily obtained his protection. St. John had fulfilled all the duties of a holy bishop nine years, practising all the austerities of his former life, and refusing to allow himself even the necessary conveniences of life, that he might bestow all he possessed on the poor. He in structed his flock by preaching, and, by his example, invited them to practise what he taught. He was the comforter of all that were in affliction, and bore their burdens with them; and he never ceased to instil sentiments of humility, moderation, and compunction, into the hearts of those who lived in the more dangerous flattering state of worldly prosperity. He was the father of all, and carried them all in his heart, that he might plant in them the spirit, and transfer them into the heart of Christ. Certain evils which he found it impossible for him to remedy, joined with his strong inclination to a retired life, gave him an earnest desire to resign his charge. By the rule of the church and his sacred engagement, he was bound not to abandon the spouse to which he was tied, or to leave exposed to wolves a flock which the supreme Pastor had intrusted to his care. But the divine grace sometimes makes exceptions in order to raise a soul to an extraordinary sanctity. John had reason at first to look upon the thought of such a project as suspected, to examine it impartially, and to consult God for a considerable time by earnest prayer. The author of his life assures us, that while he was watching one night in prayer, he saw before him a bright cross formed in the air, and heard a voice, which said to him, “If thou desirest to be saved, follow this light.” He then seemed to see it move before him, and at length point out to the Laura of St. Sabas. Being satisfied what the sacrifice was which God required at his hands, he found means to abdicate the episcopal charge, and embarked in a vessel bound for Palestine. He went first to Jerusalem, and having there performed his devotions, retired to the neighboring Laura of St. Sabas, which at that time contained one hundred and fifty fervent monks, all animated with the spirit of their holy founder and superior. St. John was then thirty-eight years old. St. Sabas first placed him under the steward of the Laura, to fetch water, carry stones, and serve the workmen in building a new hospital. John went and came like a beast of burden, continuing always recollected in God, always cheerful and silent. After this trial, the experienced superior appointed him to receive and entertain strangers. The blessed man served every one as if he had served Christ himself, whom he considered in his members; and all persons were exceedingly edified with his humility and devotion. Saint Sabas observed every step, and admired to see the behavior of this young monk in an employment which is often dangerous to the monastic spirit, even in those that are most advanced. For the dissipation of such an attendance seemed no way to interrupt his attention to God, or abate his spirit of recollection. St. Sabas by this time clearly perceived that his novice was already a masterly proficient in the monastic profession, and eminently endowed with the spirit of his vocation. Therefore, to afford him opportunities of the greatest spiritual progress by uninterrupted contemplation, he allowed him a separate hermitage, which was his method only with regard to the more perfect. During five days in the week, which he passed without taking any nourishment, John never left his cell; but on Saturdays and Sundays he attended the public worship of God in the church. After passing three years in this eremitical life, he was made steward of the Laura. His virtue drew a blessing on the community; neither was this employment any distraction to his mind. Such, indeed, was his love to God, that his soul stood in need of no effort to think continually of him. Such a habit is not to be attempted at once. Too strained an attention might hurt the head, as experience has sometimes shown. This practice, and a constant attention to the divine presence, is to be acquired at first by frequent ejaculations to God during exterior actions, repeated at intervals; either such as naturally occur to the devout mind, or select ones of divine praise, compunction, love, &c., such as are contained in the petitions of the Lord’s Prayer, the Psalms, or other parts of the inspired writings. By this method, such a practice in John grew habitual, and by daily use became more perfect and familiar.

Our saint had discharged this last office four years, when St. Sabas, judging him worthy to be promoted to the priesthood, presented him to the patriarch Elias. When they came to the church of Mount Calvary, where the ordination was to be performed, St. John said to the patriarch, “Holy father, I have something to impart to you in private; after which, if you judge me worthy, I will receive holy orders.” The patriarch took him aside, and John, having obtained from him a promise of secrecy, said, “Father, I have been ordained bishop; but on account of the multitude of my sins have fled, and am come into this desert to wait the visit of the Lord.” The patriarch was startled, and calling in St. Sabas, said to him, “I desire to be excused from ordaining this man, on account of some particulars he has discovered to me.” St. Sabas went back much afflicted, fearing lest John had been formerly guilty of some grievous crime. Under this uncertainty, God revealed to him, at his request, the state of the affair. Whereupon, calling for John, he complained to him of his unkindness in concealing the matter from him. Finding himself discovered, John was for quitting the Laura, nor could St. Sabas prevail on him to stay, but on a promise never to divulge the secret. John lived after this four years in his cell, without speaking to any one except to the person who brought him necessaries. In the year 503, the factious spirit of certain turbulent disciples obliged St. Sabas to quit his Laura. St. John, that he might have no part in such an unhappy disturbance, withdrew into a neighboring wilderness, where he spent six years in silence, conversing only with God, and subsisting on the wild roots and herbs which the desert afforded. When St. Sabas was called home again, he went to seek St. John in his desert, and brought him back, in 510. But a long and happy experience had taught him, that a soul which has been accustomed to converse only with God, finds nothing but emptiness and bitterness in any thing besides. His love of obscurity and humility made him desire more and more to live unknown to men; but such was the lustre of his sanctity as rendered it impossible for him to succeed herein to the full extent of his desire. He went back with his old master, and confined himself for forty years to his cell, after his return to the Laura; but did not refuse instructions to those who resorted to him. Among whom was the judicious and learned monk Cyril, who wrote his life when the saint had lived forty years in his hermitage, after his return, and was one hundred and four years old. He at that age retained the vigor of his mind, and that sweetness which rendered him always amiable and venerable. This Cyril of Scythopolis, who is one of the ablest writers of antiquity, relates, that in his youth, when he was about sixteen years of age, he addressed himself to St. John, who was then ninety years old, and begged his advice concerning the choice of a state of life. The holy old man advised him to dedicate himself to God in the monastery of St. Euthymius. Cyril, however, preferred one of the little monasteries on the banks of the Jordan. But he was no sooner arrived at the place than he fell sick of a fever. His distemper every day augmented, and he began grievously to afflict and condemn himself for having neglected the advice of the servant of God. But in the night St. John appearing to him in his sleep, after a gentle reprimand for not having followed his counsel, told him, that if he repaired to the monastery of St. Euthymius, he should be restored to his health, and should find his salvation. The next morning he arose, and, notwithstanding the entreaties of the brethren, broke from them, and having taken no other refreshment but that of the blessed eucharist, which he had received that morning, he set out, walked to the aforesaid monastery of St. Euthymius, and found himself perfectly recovered. The same author tells us, that while he was conversing one day with St. John on matters of piety, he saw a man named George bring his son, who was a child possessed by the devil, and lay him on the ground before the saint without speaking a word. St. John understood the miserable condition of the child, and made the sign of the cross on his forehead with blessed oil, and the same instant the child was delivered from the evil spirit. A nobleman of Constantinople, who was infected with Eutychianism, was introduced by one Theodorus to the saint. The holy man gave his blessing to Theodorus, but refused it to the nobleman, with a mild reproach for his schism and heresy; who, seeing that he could only have been apprized of these circumstances by revelation, became upon the spot a most devout Catholic. St. John, by his example and counsels, conducted many fervent souls to God, and continued in his hermitage to emulate, as much as this mortal state will allow, the glorious employment of the heavenly spirits in an uninterrupted exercise of love and praise, till he passed to their blessed company, soon after the year 558; having lived seventy-six years in the desert, which bad only been interrupted by the nine years of his episcopal dignity.

His astonishing austerity, love of silence, and sublime contemplation condemn the unmortified spirit and dissipation of the world. Interior recollection is, as it were, the soul of Christian virtue. Without it, the most active zeal and devotion will only be superficial. A dissipated heart can never be truly devout. One that is united with God, and relishes the sweetness of his divine converse, finds the tumult of creatures and the noise of the world an insupportable burden, and he truly understands from experience what pure joy holy solitude is able to afford. A love of Christian silence, or a silence of virtue and choice, not of stupidity or sullenness, is a proof that a soul makes it her chiefest delight to be occupied on God, and finds no comfort like that of conversing with him. This is the paradise of all devout souls.

MAY 13 — ST. PETER REGALATI, C

This saint was descended of a noble family, and having lost his father in his infancy, in the thirteenth year of his age, he extorted with great difficulty his mother’s consent to enter himself in the Franciscan friars at Valladolid, of which city he was a native. By his extraordinary fervor he was distinguished among his brethren. When F. Peter Villacretios, who had established a rigorous reformation of his order at Aquileria, in the diocese of Osma, founded a second retired convent, more like a prison than a house, at Tribulos on the Deuro, near Aquileria, our saint, at his earnest request, was admitted one of this colony. By the austerity of his penance, his assiduity in contemplation, and the sublime gift of prayer with which he was endowed, he seems to have equalled the most eminent saints of his order. The sufferings of our divine Redeemer were the principal entertainment of his soul, and he lived in a constant union with God. Upon the death of F. Villacretios he succeeded him in the government of his reformed congregation, and died at Aquileria on the 30th of March, in the sixty-sixth year of his age, of our Lord 1456. He was canonized by Benedict XIV. in 1746, and his name is placed in the Roman Martyrology or the 13th of May, the day of the translation of his relics. On his extraordinary raptures, miracles, and heroic virtues, see the process and bull of his canonization, pp. 73, 121, and 544. Also the relations made in the tribunal of the Rota, published by Benedict XIV., de Canoniz.1. 2, Append. 7, t. 2 p. 629, ad p. 672, and his life compiled by F. Daza, a Spanish Franciscan published by Henschenius on the 30th of March, t. 3, Mart. p. 853.

MAY 13 — ST. SERVATIUS, BISHOP OF TONGRES

He gave St. Athanasius, during his banishment, a friendly and honorable reception, strenuously defended his cause, and the Catholic faith, especially in the council of Sardica; resisted the Arians at Rimini, and labored much in preventing the ill consequences with which the church was threatened by the misconduct of the bishops in that council, through the fraud of the Arians. St. Gregory of Tours relates that he foretold that the Huns would invade Gaul, and implored the divine mercy to avert that scourge by watching, fasting, prayers, and many tears, and by a pilgrimage to Rome to the tomb of St. Peter. This penitential journey he undertook in the year 382, that he might obtain the patronage of the apostles in behalf of his people, for whom he never ceased to implore the divine mercy by watching, fasting, and prayer, accompanied with tears. But he was informed by a revelation that God had determined to punish the sins of that nation, which calamity, like Ezechias, he was assured his eyes should never behold. Thereupon, weeping, he hastened back to Tongres, where he shortly after sickened and died, on the 13th of May, 384, having been bishop about thirty-seven years, not fifty-six, as is affirmed in the new edition of Moreri. St. Gregory testifies that miracles drew many to his tomb, and that a church was erected over it. His body remains in the noble collegiate church in Maestricht, except some small portions distributed in other places. The city of Tongres was shortly after plundered, and left in ruins by Attila, since which time it retains nothing of its ancient splendor. Some pretend that St. Servatius removed his episcopal see to Maestricht a little before his death: but it is certain that translation was only made in the following century, after the city of Tongres was destroyed by Attila. See the works of St. Athanasius, St. Gregory of Tours, Hist. Francor. &c., in Henschenius, p. 210; also Rivet, Hist. Littér. de la France. t. 1, part. 2, p. 242; Foullon, Histor. Leod. t. 1, p. 43, and Henschenius, in the Acta Sanctorum, in his Exegesis De Episcopatu Tungrensi et Trajectensi, prefixed to t. 7, Maij.

MAY 14 — ST. BONIFACE, M

From his authentic Acts in Henschenius, p. 283; Fleury, &c.

About the Year 307.

HERE lived at Rome, about the beginning of the fourth century, & certain lady called Aglaë, young, beautiful, and well-born, and so rich and fond of making a figure in the world, that she had entertained the city three several times with public shows at her own charge. Her chief steward was one Boniface, with whom she entertained a criminal commerce. This man, though addicted to wine and all kinds of debauchery, was, however, remarkable for three good qualities, hospitality, liberality, and compassion. Whensoever he saw a stranger or traveller, he would assist him very cordially; and he used to go about the streets and into the public places, in the night time, and relieve the poor according to their necessities. After several years’ commerce in the vicious way already mentioned, Aglaë, touched with a motion of divine grace, and feeling some compunction within herself, called Boniface to her, and thus opened her mind to him: “You are sensible how deep we are plunged in vice, without reflecting that we must appear before God to give an account of all our actions. I have heard say, that they who honor those that suffer for the sake of Jesus Christ, shall have a share in their glory. In the East, the servants of Jesus Christ every day suffer torments, and lay down their lives for his sake. Go thither then, and bring me the relics of some of those conquerors, that we may honor their memories, and be saved by their assistance.” Boniface came into the proposal; and having raised a considerable sum of money to purchase the bodies of the martyrs from their executioners, and to distribute among the poor, said to Aglaë on his departure, “I won’t fail to bring back with me the relics of martys, if I find any; but what if my own body should be brought to you for that of a martyr?” She reproved him for jesting in a matter so serious. The steward set out, but was now entirely a new man. Penetrated with sentiments of compunction, in all that long journey from Rome into the East, he neither ate meat nor drank wine; and his fasts he accompanied with prayers, tears, and penitential works. The church, at that time, enjoyed peace in the West, but in the East, the persecution which had been begun by Dioclesian, was carried on with great cruelty by Galerius Maximianus and Maximinus Daie. It raged most fiercely in Cilicia, under an inhuman governor named Simplicius. Boniface therefore directed his journey to Tarsus, the capital of that country. He no sooner arrived at the city, but alighting, he sent away all his servants with the horses to an inn, and went himself straight to the court of the governor, whom he found seated on his tribunal, and many holy martyrs suffering under their tortures; one hanged up by the feet, with his head over a fire: another stretched almost to the tearing of his limbs on four planks or stakes: a third sawn asunder: a fourth had his hands cut off; a fifth was fixed to the ground by a stake run through his neck: a sixth having his hands and feet tied behind him, the executioners were beating him with clubs. There were no less than twenty tortured after this cruel manner, the sight whereof shocked the beholders, while their courage and resolution filled them with amazement. Boniface went boldly up to these champions of Christ, and having saluted them, cried out: “Great is the God of the Christians, great is the God of the holy martyrs. I beseech you, the servants of Jesus Christ, to pray for me, that I may join with you in fighting against the devil.” The governor thought himself insulted by so bold an action in his presence, and asked him in great wrath who he was. The martyr answered that he was a Christian, and that having Jesus Christ for his master, he feared nothing the governor could inflict to make him renounce that sacred name. Simplicius, in a rage, ordered some reeds to be sharpened and thrust under his nails: and this being done, he commanded boiling lead to be poured into his mouth. Boniface, after having called upon Jesus Christ for his assistance, begged he prayers of the other expiring martyrs, who all joined in putting up their petitions to God for him. The people, disgusted with so much cruelty, began to raise a tumult, and cried out, “Great is the God of the Christians.” Simplicius was alarmed, and withdrew. But the next day being seated on his tribunal, he ordered Boniface to be brought before him a second time. The martyr appeared constant and undaunted. The judge commanded him to be cast into a caldron of boiling pitch; but he came out without receiving any hurt. Lastly, he was condemned to lose his head and after a short prayer for the pardon of his sins, and the conversion of his persecutors, he cheerfully presented his neck to the executioner. His companions, in the mean time, not finding him return to the inn, searched for him in those parts of the city where they thought him most likely to be found. Being at last informed by the jailer’s brother, that a stranger had been beheaded the day before for his faith in Christ, and being shown the dead body and the head, they assured him that it was the very person they were in search of, and beseeched him to bestow the martyr’s relics upon them; this he refused to do without a reward: so they paid down five hundred pieces of gold; and having embalmed it, carried it home with them, praising God for the happy end of the blessed martyr. Aglaë, upon information of the affair, gave God thanks for his victory, and taking some priests with her, met the corpse with tapers and perfumes half a mile out of Rome, on the Latin road;* and in that very place raised a monument in which she laid them, and some years after built a chapel. She from that time led a penitential retired life, and dying fifteen years after, was buried near his relics. They were found in Rome in 1603, together with those of St. Alexius, in the church in Rome formerly called of St. Boniface, but now of St. Alexius. The bodies of both St. Boniface and St. Alexius lie under the stately high altar in two rich marble tombs. The martyrdom of St. Boniface happened about the year 307.

While we praise the divine mercy, who of sinners maketh saints, we ought earnestly to pray that he change our hearts from vessels of corruption into vessels of grace and his divine charity. Regret and sorrow for sin has many degrees; but till it has entirely subdued the corruptions, changed the affections, and purified the heart, it is not a saving repentance,1 or that charity and love which animates or impregnates the new creature.2 The certain proof of regeneration or of a real conversion is victory. He that is born of God overcometh the world.3 The maxims of the gospel, the rules of the church, and reason itself, forbid us to look upon him as a sincere convert whose life is very uneven, unconstant, and contradictory to itself; if he be to-day a saint, and to-morrow a sinner; if he follow to-day the impulses of the Holy Ghost, and yield to-morrow to the temptations of the enemy; or if he has not courage to fly the dangers and renounce the occasions which are fatal to him.

MAY 14 — ST. PACHOMIUS, ABBOT

From his authentic life compiled by a monk of Tabenna soon after his death. See Tillemont, t. 7: Ceillier, t. 4; Helyot, t. 1; Rosweide,1. 1, p. 114, and Papebroke, t. 3, Maij. p. 287.

A. D. 348.

THOUGH St. Antony be justly esteemed the institutor of the cenobitic life, or that of religious persons living in community under a certain rule, St. Pachomius was the first who drew up a monastic rule in writing. He was born in Upper Thebais about the year 292, of idolatrous parents, and was educated in their blind superstition, and in the study of the Egyptian sciences. From his infancy, he was meek and modest, and had an aversion to the profane ceremonies used by the infidels in the worship of their idols. Being about twenty years of age, he was pressed into the emperor’s troops, probably the tyrant Maximinus,* who was master of Egypt from the year 310; and in 312 made great levies to carry on a war against Licinius and Constantine. He was, with several other recruits, put on board a vessel that was falling down the river. They arrived in the evening at Thebes, or Diospolis, the capital of Thebais, a city in which dwelt many Christians. Those true disciples of Christ sought every opportunity of relieving and comforting all that were in distress, and were moved with compassion towards the recruits, who were kept close confined, and very ill-treated. The Christians of this city showed them the same tenderness as if they had been their own children; took all possible care of them, and supplied them liberally with money and necessaries. Such an uncommon example of disinterested virtue made a great impression on the mind of Pachomius. He inquired who their pious benefactors were, and when he heard that they believed in Jesus Christ the only Son of God, and that in the hope of a reward in the world to come, they labored continually to do good to all mankind, he found kindled in his heart a great love of so holy a law, and an ardent desire of serving the God whom these good men adored. The next day, when he was continuing his journey down the river, the remembrance of this purpose strengthened him to resist a carnal temptation. From his infancy he had been always a lover of chastity and temperance; but the example of the Christians had made those virtues appear to him far more amiable, and in a new light. After the overthrow of Maximinus, his forces were disbanded. Pachomius was no sooner returned home, but he repaired to a town in Thebais, in which there was a Christian church, and there he entered his name among the catechumens, or such as were preparing for baptism; and having gone through the usual course of preliminary instructions and practices with great attention and fervor, he received that sacrament at Chenoboscium, with great sentiments of piety and devotion. From his first acquaintance with our holy faith at Thebes, he had always made this his prayer: “O God, Creator of heaven and earth, cast on me an eye of pity: deliver me from my miseries: teach me the true way of pleasing you, and it shall be the whole employment, and most earnest study of my life to serve you, and to do your will.” The perfect sacrifice of his heart to God, was the beginning of his eminent virtue. The grace by which God reigns in a soul, is a treasure infinitely above all price. We must give all to purchase it.1 To desire it faintly is to undervalue it. He is absolutely disqualified and unfit for so great a blessing, and unworthy ever to receive it, who seeks it by halves, or who does not esteem all other things as dung that he may gain Christ.

When Pachomius was baptized, he began seriously to consider with himself how he should most faithfully fulfil the obligations which he had contracted, and attain to the great end to which he aspired. There is danger even in fervor itself. It is often an artifice of the devil to make a novice undertake too much at first, and run indiscreetly beyond his strength. If the sails gather too much wind, the vessel is driven ahead, falls on some rock and splits. Eagerness is a symptom of secret passion, not of true virtue, where it is wilful and impatient at advice. Pachomius was far from so dangerous a disposition, because his desire was pure, therefore his first care was to find a skilful conductor. Hearing that a venerable old man named Palemon, served God in the desert in great perfection, he sought him out, and with great earnestness begged to live under his direction. The hermit having set before him the difficulties and austerities of his way of life, which several had already attempted in vain to follow, advised him to make a trial of his strength and fervor in some monastery; and, to give him a sketch of the difficulties he had to encounter in the life he aspired to, he added: “Consider, my son, that my diet is only bread and salt: I drink no wine, use no oil, watch one half of the night, spending that time in singing psalms or in meditating on the holy scriptures, and sometimes pass the whole night without sleeping.” Pachomius was amazed at this account, but not discouraged. He thought himself able to undertake every thing that might be a means to render his soul pleasing to God, and readily promised to observe whatever Palemon should think fit to enjoin him; who thereupon admitted him into his cell, and gave him the monastic habit. Pachomius was by his example enabled to bear solitude, and an acquaintance with himself. They sometimes repeated together the psalter, at other times they exercised themselves in manual labors (which they accompanied with interior prayer,) with a view to their own subsistence and the relief of the poor. Pachomius prayed above all things, for perfect purity of heart, that being disengaged from all secret attachment to creatures, he might love God with all his affections. And to destroy the very roots of all inordinate passions, it was his first study to obtain the most profound humility, and perfect patience and meekness. He prayed often with his arms stretched out in the form of a cross; which posture was then much used in the church. He was in the beginning often drowsy at the night office. Palemon used to rouse him, and say: “Labor and watch, my dear Pachomius, lest the enemy overthrow you and ruin all your endeavors.” Against this weakness and temptation he enjoined him, on such occasions, to carry sand from one place to another, till his drowsiness was overcome. By this means the novice strengthened himself in the habit of watching. Whatever instructions he read or heard, he immediately endeavored fervently to reduce to practice. One Easter-day Palemon bade the disciple prepare a dinner for that great festival. Pachomius took a little oil, and mixed it with the salt, which he pounded small, and added a few wild herbs, which they were to eat with their bread. The holy old man having made his prayer, came to table; but at the sight of the oil he struck himself on the forehead, and said, with tears: “My Saviour was crucified, and shall I indulge myself so far as to eat oil?” Nor could he be prevailed upon to taste it. Pachomius used sometimes to go into a vast uninhabited desert, on the banks of the Nile, called Tabenna, in the diocese of Tentyra, a city between the Great and Little Diospolis. While he was there one day in prayer, he heard a voice which commanded him to build a monastery in that place, in which he should receive those who should be sent by God to serve him faithfully. He received, about the same time, from an angel who appeared to him, certain instructions relating to a monastic life.* Pachomius going back to Palemon, imparted to him this vision; and both of them coming to Tabenna, built there a little cell towards the year 325, about twenty years after St. Antony had founded his first monastery. After a short time, Palemon returned to his former dwelling, having promised his disciple a yearly visit, but he died soon after, and is honored in the Roman Martyrology on the 11th of January.

Pachomius received first his own eldest brother John, and after his death many others, so that he enlarged his house; and the number of his monks in a short time amounted to a hundred. Their clothing was of rough linen; that of St. Pachomus himself often haircloth. He passed fifteen years without ever lying down, taking his short rest sitting on a stone. He even grudged himself the least time which he allowed to necessary sleep, because he wished he could have been able to employ all his moments in the actual exercises of divine love. From the time of his conversion he never ate a full meal. By his rule, the fasts and tasks of work were proportioned to every one’s strength; though all are together in one common refectory, in silence, with their cowl or hood drawn over their heads, that they might not see one another at their meals. Their habit was a tunic of white linen without sleeves, with a cowl of the same stuff; they wore on their shoulders a white goatskin, called a Melotes. They received the holy communion on the first and last days of every week. Novices were tried with great severity before they were admitted to the habit, the taking of which was then deemed the monastic profession, and attended with the vows. St. Pachomius preferred none of his monks to holy orders, and his monasteries were often served by priests from abroad; though he admitted priests, when any presented themselves, to the habit, and he employed them in the functions of their ministry. All his monks were occupied in various kinds of manual labor: no moment was allowed for idleness. The saint, with the greatest care, comforted and served the sick himself. Silence was so strictly observed at Tabenna, that a monk, who wanted any thing necessary, was only to ask for it by signs. In going from one place to another, the monks were ordered always to meditate on some passage of the holy scripture, and sing psalms at their work. The sacrifice of the mass was offered for every monk that died, as we read in the life of St. Pachomius.2 His rule was translated into Latin by St. Jerom, and is still extant. He received the sickly and weak, rejecting none for the want of corporal strength, being desirous to conduct to heaven all souls which had fervor to walk in the paths of perfection. He built six other monasteries in Thebias, not far asunder, and from the year 336, chose often to reside in that of Pabau, or Pau, near Thebes, in its territory, though not far from Tabenna, situated in the neighboring province of Diospolis, also in Thebais. Pabau became a more numerous and more famous monastery than Tabenna itself. By the advice of Serapion, bishop of Tentyra, he built a church in a village for the benefit of the poor shepherds, in which for some time he performed the office of Lector, reading to the people the word of God with admirable fervor; in which function he appeared rather like an angel than a man. He converted many infidels, and zealously opposed the Arians, but could never be induced by his bishop to receive the holy order of priesthood. In 333, he was favored with a visit of St. Athanasius at Tabenna. His sister, at a certain time, came to his monastery desiring to see him; but he sent her word at the gate, that no woman could be allowed to enter his enclosure, and that she ought to be satisfied with hearing that he was alive. However, it being her desire to embrace a religious state, he built her a nunnery on the other side of the Nile, which was soon filled with holy virgins. St. Pachomius going one day to Panè, one of his monasteries, met the funeral procession of a tepid monk deceased. Knowing the wretched state in which he died, and to strike a terror into the slothful, he forbade his monks to proceed in singing psalms, and ordered the clothes which covered the corpse to be burnt, saying: “Honors could only increase his torments; but the ignominy with which his body was treated, might move God to show more mercy to his soul; for God forgives some sins not only in this world, but also in the next.” When the procurator of the house had sold the mats at market at a higher price than the saint had bid him, he ordered him to carry back the money to the buyers, and chastised him for his avarice.

Among many miracles wrought by him, the author of his life assures us, that though he had never learned the Greek or Latin tongues, he sometimes miraculously spoke them; he cured the sick and persons possessed by devils with blessed oil. But he often told sick or distressed persons, that their sickness or affliction was an effect of the divine goodness in their behalf; and he only prayed for their temporal comfort, with this clause or condition if it should not prove hurtful to their souls. His dearest disciple, St. Theodorus, who after his death succeeded him in the government of his monasteries, was afflicted with a perpetual headache. St. Pachomius, when desired by some of the brethren to pray for his health, answered: “Though abstinence and prayer be of great merit, yet sickness, suffered with patience, is of much greater.” He chiefly begged of God the spiritual health of the souls of his disciples and others, and took every opportunity to curb and heal their passions, especially that of pride. One day a certain monk having doubled his diligence at work, and made two mats instead of one, set them where St. Pachomius might see them. The saint perceiving the snare, said, “This brother hath taken a great deal of pains from morning till night, to give his work to the devil.” And, to cure his vanity by humiliations, he enjoined him, by way of penance, to keep his cell five months, with no other allowance than a little bread, salt, and water. A young man named Sylvanus, who had been an actor on the stage, entered the monastery of St. Pachomius with the view of doing penance, but led for some time an undisciplined life, often transgressing the rules of the house, and still fond of entertaining himself and others with buffooneries. The man of God endeavored to make him sensible of his danger by charitable remonstrances, and also employed his more potent arms of prayer, sighs, and tears, for his poor soul. Though for some time he found his endeavors fruitless, he did not desist on that account; and having one day represented to this impenitent sinner, in a very pathetic manner, the dreadful judgments which threaten those that mock God, the divine grace touching the heart of Sylvanus, he from that moment began to lead a life of great edification to the rest of the brethren; and being moved with the most feeling sentiments of compunction, he never failed, wheresoever be was, and howsoever employed, to bewail with bitterness his past misdemeanors. When others entreated him to moderate the floods of his tears, “Ah,” said he, “how can I help weeping, when I consider the wretchedness of my past life, and that by my sloth I have profaned what was most sacred? I have reason to fear lest the earth should open under my feet, and swallow me up, as it did Dathan and Abiron. Oh! suffer me to labor with ever-flowing fountains of tears, to expiate my innumerable sins. I ought, if I could, even to pour forth this wretched soul of mine in mourning; it would be all too little for my offences.” In these sentiments of contrition he made so great progress in virtue, that the holy abbot proposed him as a model of humility to the rest; and when, after eight years spent in this penitential course, God had called him to himself by a holy death, St. Pachomius was assured by a revelation, that his soul was presented by angels a most agreeable sacrifice to Christ. The saint was favored with a spirit of prophecy, and with great grief foretold the decay of monastic fervor in his order in succeeding ages. In 348 he was cited before a council of bishops at Latopolis, to answer certain matters laid to his charge. He justified himself against the calumniators, but in such a manner that the whole council admired his extraordinary humility. The same year, God afflicted his monasteries with a pestilence, which swept off a hundred monks. The saint himself fell sick, and during forty days suffered a painful distemper with incredible patience and cheerfulness, discovering a great interior joy at the approach of the end of his earthly pilgrimage. In his last moments he exhorted his monks to fervor, and having armed himself with the sign of the cross, resigned his happy soul into the hands of his Creator in the fifty-seventh year of his age. He lived to see in his different monasteries seven thousand monks. His order subsisted in the east till the eleventh century: for Anselm, bishop of Havelburgh, writes, that he saw five hundred monks of this institute in a monastery at Constantinople. St. Pachomius formed his disciples to so eminent a degree of perfection chiefly by his own fervent spirit and example; for he always appeared the first, the most exact, and the most fervent, in all the exercises of the community. To the fervor and watchfulness of the superior it was owing that in so numerous a community discipline was observed with astonishing regularity, as Palladius and Cassian observe. The former says that they ate with their cowl drawn so as to hide the greatest part of their faces, and with their eyes cast down, never looking at one another. Many contented themselves with taking a very few mouthfuls of bread and oil, or of such like dish; others of pottage only. So great was the silence that reigned among them while every one followed his employment, that in the midst of so great a multitude, a person seemed to be in a solitude. Cassian tells us,3 that the more numerous the monastery was, the more perfect and rigorous was regular observance of discipline, and all constantly obeyed their superior more readily than a single person is found to do in other places. Nothing so much weakens the fervor of inferiors as the example of a superior who easily allows himself exemptions or dispensations in the rule. The relaxation of monastic discipline is often owing to no other cause. How enormous is the crime of such a scandal!

MAY 14 — ST. PONTIUS, AN ILLUSTRIOUS PRIMITIVE MARTYR

He suffered in the persecution of Valerian about the year 258, at Cimelé, a city in the Alps, which was afterwards destroyed by the Lombards; when, from its ruins, arose in the neighborhood the town of Nice, in Savoy. Of the old city, only the famous abbey of St. Pons at Cimilé, or Cimies, subsists; and the relics of the holy martyr were translated to the monastery of Tomieres in Languedoc, where pope John XXII. erected an episcopal see, called St. Pons de Tomieres. The abbey of Tomieres was secularized in 1625. St. Valerian, bishop of Cimelé in the fifth century, in the three panegyrics which he has left us of this martyr, assures us that many miracles were wrought at his relics. See the Bollandists.

MAY 14 — ST. CARTHAGH,* COMMONLY CALLED MOCHUDU, BISHOP OF LISMORE

This eminent director of souls in the narrow paths of Christian perfection was a native of Munster in Ireland. The famous monastery of Raithin or Ratheny in Westmeath, was founded by him. He drew up a particular monastic rule, which is said to be still extant in very old Irish; but it was afterwards incorporated into that of the regular canons of St. Austin, when the abbey of Raithin adopted that institute, which, though it has been since mitigated, in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, seems to have been scarce less austere than that of La Trappe at present. St. Carthagh is said to have had under his direction above eight hundred and sixty monks, who confined themselves to feed on vegetables, which they raised and cultivated with their own hands. In 631, or according to the annals of Inisfallen in 636, he was driven out of Raithin, which he had then governed forty years, by king Blathmac, and retired to the territory of Nandesi, or Desies, in Munster. Here, upon the banks of a river,† he laid the foundation of a great monastery and school, which flourished exceedingly for many ages. The place before his coming thither was called Magh-Sgiath; it then took the name of Dunsginne, and afterwards Lismore, which name it has ever since retained.‡ St. Carthagh founded here the episcopal see of Lismore, which was united to that of Waterford by pope Urban V. in 1363, at the request of king Edward III., this latter having only been founded in 1096. The city of Lismore, from the reputation of the sanctity and miracles of St. Carthagh, its first bishop, was esteemed in succeeding ages a holy city, which appellation its great school and monastery continued to maintain. Half of this city was an asylum into which no woman dared to enter, it being full of cells and holy monasteries. Thither holy men flocked from all parts of Ireland, many also from Britain, being desirous to remove from thence to Christ. St. Carthagh left an eminent share of his spirit to his disciples and successors, but died himself soon after he had erected his cathedral, on the 14th of May, in 637, or 638. He was buried in his own church at Lismore. See Colgan in MSS. ad 14 Maij; Ware, t. 1, pp. 547, 548, 549; Usher, Primord. Brit. Eccl., p. 910; Allemaigne, Monast. Hibern. introd. et p. 43; Annals of lnisfall. ad an. 637.

MAY 15 — SAINTS PETER, ANDREW, AND COMPANIONS, MM

From their authentic acts in Ruinart

A. D. 250.

IN the neighborhood of Lampsacus, a city of Lesser Asia, near the Hellespont, was apprehended in the persecution of Decius, a young man called Peter, remarkable for the beauty of his person, and natural endowments of his mind, but much more for his faith and virtue. He was brought before Optimus, the proconsul of Asia, who said to him: “You have before your eyes the edicts of our invincible princes: sacrifice to the goddess Venus, as they command.” Peter answered: “I am surprised that you should endeavor to persuade me to sacrifice to an infamous lewd woman, whose actions modesty forbids me to mention, and are such as are punishable by your own laws.” Optimus ordered him to be extended on a wheel, with pieces of wood so disposed and bound on his body with iron chains, that the wheel being put in motion it might gradually occasion the breaking of his bones. The martyr, turning his eyes towards the heavens, said, with a cheerful countenance: “I praise and thank you, O Lord Jesus Christ, for vouchsafing me patience to overcome this cruel tyrant.” Optimus, seeing his unshaken resolution, ordered his head to be struck off.

After this execution, as the proconsul was going to set out for Troas, a city in Phrygia, built by Alexander, near the ruins of the famous Troy, three other Christians, Andrew, Paul, and Nicomachus, were brought before him. He asked them whence they came, and what was their religion Nicomachus answered with impatience, and a remarkably loud voice: “I am a Christian.” The others modestly replied: “We are also Christians.” The proconsul said to Nicomachus: “Sacrifice to the gods.” He answered: “A Christian must not sacrifice to devils.” The proconsul gave orders that he should be hung on the rack and tortured. When he was just ready to expire under his torments, he unhappily lost his crown, and cried out: “I never was a Christian, and am ready to sacrifice to the gods.” The proconsul immediately caused him to be taken off the rack, but no sooner had the miserable man offered sacrifice than he was seized by the devil, fell on the ground, and beat it with his head in violent agonies, in which he expired. Thus the devil usually laughs to scorn the unhappy souls which he has drawn into sin. He lures them with great promises; but, being the father of lies, pays them with treacherous shadows, or often with bitter disappointments and calamities. A wretched exchange for their souls and eternal happiness! God afforded his other two servants a comfort under their affliction for this loss. Denysa, a tender virgin about sixteen years old, who was standing by, was struck at this misfortune, and said: “Unfortunate wretch! why wouldst thou bring upon thyself eternal torments for the sake of a moment’s ease?” Optimus, hearing these words, asked if she was a Christian: she confessed she was. He then required her to sacrifice, and threatened to expose her to prostitution, and burn her alive in case of refusal. Finding his threats made no impression on her constancy, he ordered her to be put into the hands of two lewd young men to be deflowered. They took her with them to their lodgings: whose endeavors to force her she resisted so long, that she fairly tired them out. About midnight they were surprised at the appearance of a young man, glittering with light, which diffused itself over the whole house. Upon which they were seized with fear, and cast themselves at the feet of the holy virgin. She raised them up, and bid them not be afraid, saying: “This is my guardian and protector:” and they earnestly besought her to intercede for them, that they might come to no hurt. The next morning, the mob, stirred up by the priests of Diana, beset the house of the proconsul, demanding in a tumultuous manner to have Andrew and Paul delivered up to them. The proconsul, to humor them, having caused the martyrs to be brought forth, bid them sacrifice to Diana; which they refusing to do, he ordered them to be most inhumanly scourged, and then to be put into the hands of the rabble, and by them to be stoned to death. The populace, without further delay, having tied their feet together, dragged them out of town in order to stone them. While they were under execution, Denysa heard the noise, and began to weep and wail bitterly; and, having escaped from those who guarded her, ran to the place where they were, and upon seeing them, cried out: “That I may live with you eternally in heaven, I will die with you on earth.” The proconsul being informed of the wonderful preservation of her chastity, her escape, and desire to die with the martyrs, ordered her to be taken away from Andrew and Paul, and to be beheaded at a distance; which was accordingly put in execution.

If the martyrs had not been crucified to the world, they would never have attained to their crowns. There is a love of the world, which, though it be not either for the matter or the degree of it criminal enough to destroy the hopes of salvation, yet abates our vigor, hinders our perfection, and bereaves us of many degrees of fervor. The indications of this kind of love of the world, are a fondness for the pomp and show of life; too slavish an exactness in the modes and customs of the world; too quick a sense of praise, reputation, and pre-eminence; too great an eagerness to grow rich; too brisk a relish of pleasures; too much diversion; too great a love of ease, or an uninterrupted pursuit of worldly business, which extinguishes all gust of virtue, and all relish of heavenly things, and leaves not the mind sufficient leisure or ardor for spiritual duties. These are symptoms of a soul tainted with a love of the world, which exceedingly checks the vigor of the mind. The means by which this defect is to be overcome is frequent meditation on eternal truths. One who has these deeply imprinted in his heart, will have no great taste of the honors, or the pleasures, or the interests of life; he will never be slothful or remiss, but always fervent in spirit serving the Lord; and will have no emulation but for good works, no ambition but for eternal glory. In the pursuit of this will he lay out the vigor and strength of his mind, retrench his profit by alms, deny his pleasure, and rejoice to lead an obscure, mean, laborious, and crucified life.

MAY 15 — SAINT DYMPNA, V. M

She was the daughter of an Irish king, and having by vow consecrated her virginity to God, to avoid the snares to which she saw herself exposed at home, passed to Antwerp, and chose her abode at Ghecl, a village in Brabant, ten leagues from Antwerp. There she served God in retirement and assiduous prayer. But being at length discovered and pursued by those who were the enemies of her chastity, she was murdered by them because the refused to consent to their brutish passion. Her relics were, solemnly taken up by the bishop of Cambray on the 15th of May, and are preserved with veneration in a rich shrine at Gheel. She flourished in the seventh century. See Molanus, Miræus, the Roman Martyrology, Henschenius, t. 3, Maij, p. 477, and Colgan, in MSS. Contin. Act. SS. Hibern.

MAY 15 — ST. GENEBRARD OR GENEBERN, MARTYR

He was a holy Irish priest, who having baptized St. Dympna in her in fancy, was her attendant in her flight beyond sea, and was beheaded by her murderers. His relics were translated to Santbeck in the duchy of Cleves, where his intercession is devoutly implored, especially for relief under the gout and in fevers; and blessed rings which bear his name are used. Dr. Wintringham and Dr. Liger, in their treatises on the gout, inform us that this disorder rages even among laborers in the countries about the Rhine, in Silesia and others, where acid wines, such as Rhenish, &c., are much drunk. On St. Genebrard, see Colgan, MSS. ad 15 Maij.

MAY 16 — ST. JOHN NEPOMUCEN, M

From his life, collected by F. Balbin, the Jesuit, published by Papebroke with preliminary remarks, t. 3, Maij, p. 667. Also Benedict XIV. de Canoniz. SS. and his life in French by F. Marne, Jesuit, printed in Paris in 1741, and S. Joan. Nepomuceni vita a Berghaver, cum figuris. Pragæ, 1736, folio.

A. D. 1383.

THIS servant of God possessed, in an eminent degree, the virtues of a perfect anchoret, and of a zealous apostle, and by his death merited the crown of a glorious martyr. His martyrdom was the more illustrious, because the religious seal of confession, (or strict obligation to silence in that tribunal on the part of the priest,) not having yet armed tyrants against it, had found no victims before our saint. He was born at Nepomuc, a little town in Bohemia, some leagues from Prague, about the year 1330. His parents derived from their virtue a splendor which their birth or rank in the world did not afford them. If our saint had fewer obstacles from the world to overcome in giving himself to God, his sacrifice was not less fervent, less generous, or less perfect in the disposition of his heart. He was regarded as the fruit of his parents’ prayers. Soon after his birth his life was despaired of; but their confidence in God deserved to obtain his recovery through the intercession of the Holy Virgin Mary, which they earnestly implored in the church of a neighboring Cistercian monastery. Gratitude moved them to consecrate their son to the service of God. They neglected nothing to give him a good education; nor could a child give more promising hopes of future greatness by his mildness, gentleness, docility, simplicity, devotion, and extraordinary application and capacity in his studies. The morning he spent in the neighboring monastery in hearing several masses, which he did with a modesty and fervor that charmed those who saw him. When he had learned the first elements at home he was sent to Staaze, a considerable own, to study Latin. He excelled his schoolfellows in grammar, but surpassed himself in rhetoric. Charles IV., emperor of Germany and king of Bohemia, and author of the Golden Bull, in 1356,* had lately founded the university of Prague, in imitation of those at Paris and Padua John being sent thither, distinguished himself in philosophy, divinity, and canon law; in which two last faculties he proceeded doctor. He had from his tender years regarded the priesthood as the great object of his pious ambition, that he might devote himself in the most perfect manner to promote he divine honor; and he always made the most frequent and devout participation of the adorable sacrament of the altar a kind of novitiate to that dignity. He increased the fervor of his preparation as he grew nearer the term, and retired from the hurry of the schools and the city into a solitude, there, by fasting, prayer, and penance for a month, purifying his soul and disposing himself for the grace of that holy order, which he received at the hands of his bishop. This prelate being acquainted with his extraordinary talents, commanded him immediately to employ them in preaching, and committed to him the care of the parish of our Lady of Tein. Surprising were the first effects of his zeal. The whole city flocked to hear him, and in a short time appeared very much reformed. The students, who were then not fewer than forty thousand, thronged to his discourses, and many hardened libertines returned from hearing him, knocking their breasts and full of compunction.

The archbishop and canons preferred him to a canonry: but his constant attendance in the choir did not hinder, or abate his zealous application to all his former functions, in the care of souls. The emperor Charles IV., having reigned thirty-two years, renowned for wisdom and piety, died at Prague in 1378, crowned with the benediction of his subjects. For though he had achieved no great exploits, he had always been a lover and protector of the church and his people. By great largesses to the electors, he procured his son Wenceslas to be chosen king of the Romans in 1376. This prince succeeded him in the empire upon his death the year following, being only sixteen years old. Intoxicated with power and flattery, he discovered early symptoms of the most savage and vicious inclinations, by which he has deserved the infamous surnames of the Slothful and the Drunkard. He resided at Prague, and hearing high commendations of Saint John, he pitched upon him to preach the Lent to his court. The holy man saw how difficult and dangerous a task it would be to make the emperor relish the genuine truths of the gospel, as he was not unacquainted with his stupid and brutish temper. However, he accepted the employ, and was much applauded by the court, and by the emperor himself; and his discourses proved for some time a check to his passions. In testimony of his esteem, he offered the saint the first vacant bishopric, which was that of Leitomeritz, but no motives could prevail upon him to accept of that dignity. It was thought that perhaps the care and labors inseparable from such a charge, contributed to his refusal. He was therefore offered the provostship of Wischeradt, which (next to the bishoprics) is the first ecclesiastical dignity of the kingdom of Bohemia, and to which are annexed great revenues of one hundred thousand German florins a year, with the honorable title of hereditary chancellor of the kingdom, and this without dangers or fatigues. But to reason thus is not to know the saints. If they refuse great places when they present labors to their zeal and crosses to their virtue, what must they think of those which offer nothing but riches and honors? The virtuous canon was therefore here again as firm as ever. But the more he shunned the esteem of men the more it followed him. He, however, accepted soon after the office of almoner of the court, which could only give him an authority and assistance the better to perform his duty as preacher to the court, and enable him in a private capacity to assist the poor, and to gain souls to God. Nor had this charge either the distractions, or the riches or honors, which had so much affrighted him in the dignities before mentioned. Thus humility fixed him in the court whither ambition leads others. He appeared there the same man he had been in his private life. His apartment was the rendezvous of all that were in affliction or distress. He declared himself their genera, advocate, and the father of the poor, and of all who suffered by unjust oppressions. His charity was also sagacious in finding out, and secretly reconciling, all dissensions which arose in the court or city: of many whereof authentic monuments are still preserved, in which the patience of this great man, his penetration and judgment, and the equity of his decisions, are equally admired. He found time for every thing, because the saints, who in temporal concerns forget themselves, find more leisure than other men for the service of their neighbors.

The empress Jane, daughter of Albert of Bavaria, earl of Hainault and Holland, was a most virtuous and accomplished princess. Touched by the divine unction of the holy preacher, she chose him for the director of her conscience. The emperor loved her with the most violent passion: but as he was capricious and changeable, he often abandoned himself to fits of jealousy, which, joined to the natural fierceness and brutish fury of his temper, gave the princess much to suffer. As the world is saved by the sufferings of a God, so it is by afflictions that all the saints are crowned. To make the empress one by the crucifixion of her heart to whatever might divide it from God, the Lord employed the persecution of her husband, which was sometimes cruel to the utmost excess. But he gave her a comforter and guide in our saint, by whose counsels she squared her life. What fruit did not she reap by this means in a few years! Supported by a man whose zeal prepared him to martyrdom, she learned to suffer her afflictions with joy. Not only this princess, but all the virtuous persons of the court, sought to have the saint for their director, and he seemed to possess the talent of making saints upon the throne, and in the court, and men happy upon the cross. He also took upon him the direction of the nuns of the castle of Prague, whom he conducted in the exercises of a spiritual life in such a manner, that his house became a model of perfection to all others. The empress, though always a person of virtue, became much more devout after she began to follow his advice. She became altogether religious, and was not afraid to appear such. The churches were the ordinary places in which she was to be found: she spent in them whole days on her knees, and in a recollection which was the admiration of every one. Her prayers were only interrupted by offices of charity to the poor, (whom she served with her own hands,) or by a short time for meals and relaxation, which she passed in conversing with her ladies on eternity and spiritual matters, on which she spoke with an ardor which bespoke her own fervor. This fire she nourished in her heart by the frequent use of the sacraments, and the practice of perpetual mortification. Such was her holy fear of God, that the very shadow of the least sin made her tremble; and upon the fear of the least failing or imperfection, she hastened to expiate it in the sacred tribunal at penance; from which she never came but with a heart broken with sorrow and her eyes bathed in tears.

As a corrupted heart turns every thing into poison, Wenceslas grew the more impatient and extravagant by the piety of his consort, and by the tenderness and condescension with which she always behaved towards him; and in the return of a fit of mad jealousy, he made her virtuous conduct an argument for his suspicions. To know her interior, he formed a design of extorting from St. John what she had disclosed to him in the secret of confession, by which means he thought he should learn all the private sentiments she had ever entertained concerning him. In this view, he sent for the holy man, and at first began indirectly to sift him, and at length openly put to him his impious questions. The saint, struck with horror, represented to him, in the most respectful manner possible, how notoriously injurious such a sacrilege was both to reason and religion. But the emperor, who had been long accustomed to deal with slaves, thought that no one ought to resist his will. However, in the end, he dissembled his rage; but the saint saw in his dark gloomy silence what he was to expect from so revengeful a prince. It happened one day, that the tyrant finding a fowl not roasted to his taste at table gave an order surpassing, if possible, the extravagancies of Caligula or Heliogabalus, that the cook should be immediately spitted and roasted alive at the same fire at which the fowl had been dressed. The officers were preparing to execute the barbarous sentence, which no one durst contradict, when St. John was informed of it; the poor servant was already pierced with several spits, and broiling before the fire, when the saint ran in and threw himself at the emperor’s feet. Wenceslas neither listened to his remonstrances, nor regarded the threats of divine vengeance; but the more earnestly the saint pressed him, the more outrageous he grew. At length he commanded him to be thrown into a dungeon, where he lay several days, rejoicing in his chains, being sensible that the true cause was his former firmness in refusing to disclose the confession of the empress. Nor did Wenceslas make a mystery of it; for he sent him this message, that as long as he refused to disclose to him the confession of the empress, there was for him no hope of liberty. Yet, some days after, a gentleman of the palace came with an order to release him, begging, in the emperor’s name, that he would forget the ill-treatment he had received, and dine the next day with his majesty, who had prepared a great entertainment for his sake, and to do him honor before his whole court. He was accordingly treated with the greatest magnificence and exterior marks of esteem and kindness. After the banquet, Wenceslas dismissed all the rest, and began to discourse with the saint in private, first about indifferent matters, but in the end pressing him all manner of ways to lay open to him the confession of the empress, promising secrecy, and all honors and riches, and threatening a refusal with the most horrible tortures and death. The saint answered firmly, and made fresh attempts to satisfy him on the justice and obligation of his silence. The tyrant at last gave orders that he should be carried back to prison and inhumanly tortured. He was stretched on a sort of rack: burning torches were applied to his sides, and to the most sensible parts of his body; he was burned at a slow fire, and tormented other ways. Under his tortures he pronounced no other words but the sacred names of Jesus and Mary, and when loosened from the rack was left half dead. Our Lord visited his servant in this abandoned condition, and filled his soul with the most sweet consolations. In the mean time the empress was informed, and by her prayers, tears, and importunities, obtained of Wenceslas the enlargement of the servant of God. He therefore appeared again at court, but like a persecuted saint, full of joy and courage, snowing by his countenance that he regarded his sufferings as the favors of heaven. Notwithstanding the present good-humor of the prince, he prepared himself for death; and as if to take leave, and to supply by extraordinary labor the shortness of his time, he began to preach with greater zeal than ever. In one of these sermons, on that text, A little while and you shall not see me, he often repeated: I have now but little time to speak to you; and in the close of his discourse clearly foretold, in a prophetic rapture, and shedding an abundance of tears, the evils that were shortly to fall on the church of Bohemia; literally verified in the Hussite tumults and civil wars. Coming out of the pulpit, having taken the last leave of his auditory, he begged pardon of the canons and clergy for the bad example which he humbly accused himself to have given them. From that day he gave himself up totally to those exercises which were a more immediate preparation of his own soul for eternity. In which, to obtain the protection of the glorious mother of God, he visited her image at Buntzel, which had been placed there by the apostles of the Sclavonians, SS. Cyril and Methodius, and is a place of great devotion among the Bohemians. He was returning home in the evening, after having poured forth his soul in moat fervent prayer in that holy place, when the emperor, looking out of a window of his palace, saw him pass alone in the streets of Prague. The sight of the holy man renewed his indignation and sacrilegious curiosity, and ordering him to be immediately brought in to him, he fiercely bade him choose either to reveal the confessions of the empress, or to die. The saint made no answer, but by his silence, and the steadiness of his countenance, gave him sufficiently to understand that he was not to be moved, and by bowing his head expressed his readiness to die. At which the emperor cried out in his fury, “Take away this man, and throw him into the river as soon as it shall be dark, that his execution may not be known by the people.” The barbarous order was executed, and after some hours, which the martyr employed in preparing himself for his sacrifice, he was thrown off the bridge which joins the Great and Little Prague, into the river Muldaw, with his hands and feet tied, on the vigil of the Ascension, the 16th of May, 1383. The martyr was no sooner stifled in the waters, but a heavenly light appeared over his body floating on the river, and drew many to the banks. The empress ran in to the emperor, not knowing what had happened, and inquired what was the occasion of the lights which she saw on the river. The tyrant, struck at the news, fled in a hurry, like a man distracted, to a country-house, forbidding any one to follow him. The morning discovered the villany, and the executioners betrayed the secret. The whole city flocked to the place; the canons of the cathedral went in procession, took up the body with great honor, and carried it into the church of the Holy Cross of the Penitents, which was the next to the place where the body was found. Every one resorted thither to kiss the hands and feet of the glorious martyr, to recommend himself to his prayers, and to procure, if possible, some relic of his clothes, or what else had belonged to him. The emperor, being informed of this, sent an order to the religious Penitents to hinder any tumults in their church, and secretly to remove the body. They obeyed; but the treasure was discovered, and as soon as the canons had made every thing ready for its magnificent reception in the cathedral, it was conveyed thither with the utmost pomp by the clergy and whole city, and interred with this epitaph, which is yet read engraved on a stone upon his tomb: “Under this stone lies the body of the most venerable and most glorious Thaumaturgus JOHN NEPOMUCEN doctor, canon of this church, and confessor of the empress, who, because he had faithfully kept the seal of confession, was cruelly tormented and thrown from the bridge of Prague into the river Muldaw, by the orders of Wenceslas IV., emperor and king of Bohemia, son of Charles IV., 1383.” Many miraculous cures of the sick under the most desperate disorders, during the translation and interment of his relics, and at his tomb, through his intercession, were public testimonies of his favor with God. The empress, after this accident, led a weak languishing life till the year 1387, when she closed it by a holy and happy death. The emperor stayed some months in the castle of Zebrac, some leagues from Prague, hardening himself against the voices of heaven, fearing at first a sedition of the people; but religion taught the virtuous part their duty to their sovereign. Seeing therefore the things remain quiet in the city, he returned to it, and wallowed in his former slothful voluptuous life. But he soon felt that the punishment of a notorious sinner follows close upon his crime. The empire was torn with civil wars in all its parts. The Switzers, revolting from Albert of Austria, set up their commonwealth without opposition: the emperor himself sold to John Galeas the duchy or Milan for one hundred thousand florins, and for money alienated many others of the richest provinces, one after another. The princes and states, in the very year 1383, sent to entreat the tyrant to leave Bohemia and reside in the empire, to put a stop to the growing evils. He laughed at the deputies, and said, if there were any malecontents among them, it was their duly to come to him. The states and princes of the empire at length entered into a general confederacy at Mentz, and deposed him from the imperial throne in 1400; and meeting at Laenstein in the archbishopric of Triers, chose first Frederick duke of Brunswick and Lunenbourg, and he dying in a few days, substituted Robert or Rupert of Bavaria, count palatine of the Rhine. Wenceslas, drowned in debaucheries, seemed insensible at this affront. The nobility of Bohemia, by the advice of his brother Sigismund, king of Hungary, confined him twice; but he found means to escape, and died of an apoplexy, without having time, in appearance, to think of repentance. This indolence fortified the Hussite heresy, broached in his reign by John Huss, rector of the university, and his disciple Jerom of Prague, which for above one hundred years filled the kingdom with civil wars, bloodshed, plunder sacrileges, the ruin of families, and every other calamity.

The tomb of the saint continued illustrious for frequent miracles, and was protected by a wonderful providence from profanations, which were often attempted by the Hussites, and again by the Calvinists in 1618, in the wars of Frederick the elector palatine. On that occasion, several officers and workmen, who set themselves to demolish the tomb of the saint, were deterred by visible judgments, and some by sudden death upon the spot, which was the misfortune, among others, of a certain English gentleman. The complete victory by which the Imperialists, under the command of the duke of Bavaria, under the walls of Prague in 1620, recovered this kingdom, is ascribed to the intercession of this holy martyr; who, as many attested, was seen appearing in glory with other patrons, by the guards in the cathedra!, the night before the battle, and whose protection the imperial army had earnestly implored: from which circumstance the illustrious house of Austria has shown a particular devotion to his memory. The emperors Ferdinand II. and III. solicited his canonization, which was at length procured by Charles VI. In 1719, on the 14th of April, the saint’s tomb was opened where the body had lain three hundred and thirty years. The flesh was consumed, but the bones entire and perfectly joined together, with the marks of his fail into the river behind his head and on his shoulders. His tongue alone was found fresh and free from corruption, as if the saint had but just expired. The saint had been honored as a martyr from the time of his death in Bohemia; but to make his veneration more authentic and universal, his canonization was demanded, and several new miracles were juridically approved at Prague and Rome. Innocent XIII. confirmed his immemorial veneration by a decree equivalent to a beatification; and the b ill of his solemn canonization was published by Benedict XIII. in 1729. A narrative of many miracles wrought by his intercession may be read at the end of his life, as the wonderful preservation of the city of Nepomuc from the plague in 1680; the cure of various distempers in persons despaired of by the physicians; the deliverance of many from imminent dangers, and the protection of the innocence of many falsely accused. The count of Althan, afterwards archbishop of Bari, in the fall of a balcony in the palace of constable Colonna at Rome was saved by St. John appearing in a vision, whose intercession he invoked aloud. Cardinal Michael Frederic Althan, viceroy of Naples, was cured of a paralytic disorder, by which he had entirely lost the use of one arm, and of a complication of several other distempers, the moment he began to address his prayer to St. John on his festival, in the Minims church. Pope Benedict XIII. dedicated an altar under the invocation of St. John Nepoinucen in the Lateran basilic.

In the sacrament of penance so indispensable is the law of secrecy, and so far does it extend, that the minister is bound, by all laws, so much to be upon his guard in this respect, that he may say with an ancient writer,* “What I know by confession, I know less than what I do not know at all.” St. John Climacus remarks, that a special providence watches over the fidelity of this sacred seal: “For,” says he, “it is unheard of that sins disclosed by confession should be divulged, lest others should be deterred from confessing, and all hope of health be cut off.”1 Without this indispensable secrecy the very precept and obligation ceases.2 And this law is expedient also to the public weal; for by it the minister will often draw sinners from dangerous designs which otherwise could never come to his knowledge, as F Coton showed to the entire satisfaction of Henry IV. of France.

MAY 16 — ST. SIMON STOCK, C

He was descended of a good family in Kent. From his infancy he turned all his thoughts and affections to attain to the most perfect love of God, and studied to devote all his moments to this glorious pursuit. In this earnest desire, in the twelfth year of his age, he retired into a wilderness, and chose, for his dwelling a great hollow oak tree; whence the surname of Stock wag given him. While he here mortified his flesh with fasting and other severities, he nourished his soul with spiritual dainties in continual prayer. His drink was only water; and he never touched any other food but herbs, roots, and wild apples. While he led this course of life, he was invited by a divine revelation to embrace the rule of certain religious men who were coming from Palestine into England. Albert, the holy patriarch of Jerusalem, having given a written rule to the Carmelite friars about the year 1205, some brothers of this order were soon after brought over from mount Carmel by John lord Vescy and Richard lord Gray of Codnor, when they returned from the Holy Land. These noblemen some time after settled them, the latter in the wood of Aylesford, near Rochester in Kent, the former in the forest of Holme, near Alnewick in Northumberland; which houses continued the two most famous convents of this order in England till their dissolution in the thirty-third year of the reign of Henry VIII. But we are assured by Bale, who before his apostacy was himself a friar of the English province of this order,1 and by Lambert2 and Weaver3 in their accurate descriptions of the Antiquities of Kent, that the first or most ancient convent of these friars in England was that at Newenden in Kent, which was founded for them by Sir Thomas Archer or Fitz-Archer, whose family flourished for many centuries upon that manor. The first arrival of these friars in England is placed in the annals of the order, quoted by F. Cosmas de Villiers4 in 1212.* Simon, who had then lived a recluse twenty years, imitating the Macariuses and Arseniuses in the most heroic practices of penance and contemplation, was much affected with the devotion of these servants of God to the blessed Virgin, their edifying deportment, and their eremitical austere institute, and joined their holy company before the end of the year 1212. After his admission he was sent to Oxford to finish his studies; and having run through his academical course he returned to his convent, where so bright was the example of his piety, that, the virtue of the rest seemed to suffer an eclipse by the extraordinary lustre of his sanctity. Such was his reputation, that in 1215 Brocard, prior of mount Carmel, and general of the order, appointed him vicar-general, with full power over all the western provinces. Many clamors being raised against this institute, St. Simon repaired to Rome in 1226, and obtained from pope Honorius III. a confirmation of the rule given to this order by Albertus; and another from Gregory IX. in 1229. Some years after, St. Simon paid a visit to his brethren on mount Carmel, and remained six years in Palestine, where, in 1237, he assisted at the general chapter of the order held by Alanus the fifth general. In this assembly it was decreed, that the greatest part of the brethren should pass into Europe, their settlements in the east being continually disturbed by the persecutions, oppressions, or threats of the Saracens. In 1240 many were sent to England, and in 1244, Alanus himself, with St. Simon, having nominated Hilarion his vicar on mount Carmel, and in Palestine, followed them thither, there being already five monasteries of the order erected in this island.

In a general chapter held at Aylesford in 1245, Alanus resigning his dignity, St. Simon was chosen the sixth general, and in the same year procured a new confirmation of the rule by pope Innocent IV., who at the saint’s request received this order under the special protection of the Holy See, in 1251. St. Simon established houses in most parts of Europe; but this institute flourished nowhere with so great splendor and edification as in England, and continued so to do for several ages, as the annals of the order take notice. St. Simon, soon after he was promoted to the dignity of general, instituted the confraternity of the Scapular, to unite the devout clients of the Blessed Virgin in certain regular exercises of religion and piety. Several Carmelite writers assure us that he was admonished by the Mother of God in a vision, with which he was favored on the 16th of July, to establish this devotion.† This confraternity has been approved, and favored with many privileges by several popes.5 The rules prescribe, without any obligation or precept, that he members wear a little scapular, at least secretly, as the symbol of the order, and that they recite every day the office of our Lady, or the office of the church; or, if they cannot read, seven times the Pater, Ave, and Gloria Patri, in lieu of the seven canonical hours; and lastly, that they abstain from flesh-meat on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays; or if this cannot be done, that they double for each of these days the seven Paters, &c. St. Simon cured several sick persons by giving them the scapular; the reputation of which miracles moved Edward I., king of England, St. Louis of France, and many others, to enrol their names in this confraternity.

St. Simon governed the order with great sanctity and prudence during twenty years, and propagated it exceedingly from England over all Europe;* being himself famous for his eminent virtue, and a great gift of miracles and prophecy. He wrote several hymns and decrees for his order, and several other useful things for its service, says Leland. At length, in the hundredth year of his age, having a call to France, he sailed to Bordeaux, where God put an end to his labors some months after his arrival, in 1265, on the 16th of July. He was buried in the cathedral of that city, and was honored among the saints soon after his death. Pope Nicholas III. granted an office to be celebrated in his honor at Bordeaux on the 16th of May, which Paul V. extended to the whole order. See his authentic life, written soon after his death, also Stevens’s Monast. Angelic. t. 2, pp. 159, 160; Leland, de Script. Brit. t. 2, c. 277, p. 294; Papebroke, t. 3, Maij, p. 653; Newcourt’s Repertorium, (on the Carmelite friars,) vol. 1, p. 566; Weaver, p. 139; Fuller, b. 6, p. 271; Dugdale’s Warwickshire, p. 186, ed. 1730; F. Cosmas de Villiers a S. Philippo, Bibl. Carmel t. 2, p. 750.

MAY 16 — ST. UBALDUS, BISHOP OF GUBIO

He was born of a noble family at Gubio, a city of the Ecclesiastical State, near the marquisate of Ancona. He had his education in the seminary of SS. Marian and James, and made great progress in his studies, both profane and sacred; but the holy scriptures, those springs of living waters, were his chief delight. Many honorable matches were proposed to him by his friends; but he rejected all such offers, and made a vow of celibacy. His ardor in the perfect practice of virtue strengthened him against the bad example of many tepid companions. However, not approving certain irregularities which he saw tolerated among them, he exchanged this house for the seminary of St. Secundus, where he finished his studies. The bishop of Gubio made him prior of his cathedral, that he might reform several abuses in the behavior of the canons. Ubaldus prepared himself for this important work by fasting, prayers, and tears, by which he hoped to engage the divine assistance. He easily prevailed on three of his canons who were the best disposed, to join with him in his exercises and rules of life; and their example soon began to work upon the rest. The saint visited a community of regular canons, esteemed for their regularity and sanctity, which had been established by Peter de Honestis, a person of singular piety, in the territory of Ravenna. He stayed there three months, in order to take an exact view of the discipline of the house; and he carried its rule back with him to Gubio, and in a short time got it received by the whole chapter, to render their reformation complete. After some years, their house and cloister being burnt down, Ubaldus looked upon this as a favorable opportunity of leaving his post, and retiring into some desert. In this view he made his way to that of Font-Avellano, where he found Peter of Rimini, to whom he communicated his design of quitting the world. That great servant of God opposed the motion as a dangerous temptation, and exhorted him to return to his former vocation, in which God had fixed him for the good of others. The saint therefore returned to Gubio, rebuilt the closters, and rendered his chapter more flourishing than it had ever been, to the great edification of the whole country. In 1126, St. Ubaldus was uncaninously chosen bishop of Perugia; but he hid himself in the country, so that the deputies of that city were not able to find him; and when they were departed, he went to Rome, threw himself at the feet of pope Honorius II., and with many tears begged that he might be excused; employing all the interest he had in the world to obtain the favor he desired. Honorius granted his request; but the see of Gubio becoming vacant two years after, the pope directed the clergy of that city to proceed to his election according to the forms prescribed by the canons: in consequence of which his holiness consecrated him with his own hands in the beginning of the year 1129. The new bishop made it his whole business to adorn the dignity of his station with all the virtues of a true successor of the apostles. He practised a perpetual mortification of all his senses, and lived dead to all the enjoyments of the world: he was indefatigable both in the exercise of penance, and in the labors of his ministry; frugal, humble, sincere, and full of compassion for all the world. But mildness and patience, by which he appeared insensible to injuries and affronts, was one of the brightest parts of his character. Once it happened, that in repairing the wall of the city, the workmen encroached upon his vineyard. The bishop mildly put them in mind of it, and desired them to forbear. The overseer of the work, moved with brutish fury, scornfully pushed him into a great heap of mortar. The good bishop got up, all covered with lime and dirt, without making the least expostulation. The people demanded that the overseer, in punishment for the offence, should be banished, and his goods confiscated. The saint endeavored to make it pass for an accident; but when that could not satisfy the people, who knew how it happened, he being desirous to deliver the man out of the hands of the magistrates, maintained, that the cognizance of the misdemeanor belonging to his own court, he would take care to do himself justice. The workman, stung with remorse, proffered to accept of any punishment the bishop should think proper to inflict on him, even though his life was to pay for the offence. The holy prelate, rising from his chair, went up to him, and told him with a smiling countenance, that by way of satisfaction for the injury received, he insisted on his giving him a kiss of peace, as a token of a perfect reconciliation, and that he begged of God to pardon him that and all other offences. After which he saluted him.

The saint often defended his flock in public dangers. Hearing one day that a sedition was raised in one of the streets, wherein some were wounded, others killed, he ran out, and venturing himself between the combatants, fell down amidst their naked swords. The mutineers thinking him dead all threw away their weapons, running to take him up, and every one condemned himself as the murderer of their holy bishop. Then the saint, thanking God that the tumult was appeased, dispelled their fears by assuring them that he had received no hurt. The emperor Frederick Barbarossa, in his cruel wars in Italy, having taken and plundered Spoleto, threatened to do the like by Gubio. Ubaldus, moved by a more than fatherly tenderness for his flock, met the emperor on the road, and on his first interview softened the heart of that tyrant to compassion, and obtained of him the safety of his people. The two last years of his life he labored under a complicatior of painful distempers, which he bore with the patience of a saint. On Easter-day, in 1160, his devotion to the glorious mystery of that festival, made him forget his infirm condition, get up, say mass, and give the people a discourse on eternal life. From the cathedral he would be carried to the church of St. Laurence, near which he had an apartment. He continued there till the feast of the ascension, in retirement, to prepare himself for death. After that he was removed into his own house, where he repeated his last instructions to his clergy and people, who came to visit him and beg his last blessing. Having received the rites of the church, he expired on the 16th of May, 1160. The people from all the neighboring provinces attended his funeral in crowds, and were eye-witnesses of the many miracles God performed at his tomb. So tender was the devotion which this spectacle excited in every one, that animosities and dissensions over the whole country were extinguished, and a most wonderful spirit of charity was infused into all hearts. Injuries were forgotten, and cities which had been long at variance, renewed the most sincere league of friendship. St. Ubaldus had been favored with the miraculous gift of curing diseases in his lifetime, which he performed by the sign of the cross and prayer; yet, when a certain blind man addressed himself to him to be cured, the bishop told him that his corporal sight would be prejudicial to his soul, and that his temporal blindness would be recompensed with the clear vision of God in heaven for all eternity: at which the good man was so well satisfied, that he no longer desired to be cured. St. Ubaldus was canonized by pope Celestine III., in 1192. See his accurate life written by Tebald, his successor, in the Acta Sanctorum.

MAY 16 — ST. HONORATUS, IN FRENCH HONORE, C. BISHOP OF AMIENS

He was a native of Ponthieu, and bishop of Amiens about the year 660 In 1204, a church was built at Paris in his honor by a private gentleman named Renold Cherins, who four years after endowed it with a foundation for several canonries, the number of which has been since augmented. This collegiate church became very famous. It is also a small parish.1 St. Honoratus is titular saint of a chartreuse at Abbeville, which was founded in 1306. See Gallia Christ. Nova, t. 10, p. 1153; Le Fevre, Calendr. de l’Egl. de Paris, ad 16 Maij, &c.

MAY 16 — ST. ABDJESUS, OR HEBEDJESUS, BISHOP, M

The Greek Menology commemorates this holy bishop of Cascar, in Chaldæa, on the 16th of May, on which day he suffered martyrdom under king Isdegerdes, with sixteen priests, nine deacons, six monks, and seven virgins. See Le Quien, Oriens Christ, t. 2, p. 1163.

MAY 16 — ST. ABDAS, ALSO BISHOP OF CASCAR

In the sixty-sixth year of he reign of Sapor, was crowned with martyrdom at Ledan, in the country of the Huzites, with twenty-eight companions. Friday, the 15th day of Yar, which corresponds in part to our May See Sozomen,1. 2, c. 11; Jos. Assemani, Bibl. Orien. t. 3, p. 192.

MAY 16 — ST. BRENDAN THE ELDER, ABBOT OF CLUAIN-FEARTA, OR CLONFERT, UPON THE RIVER SHANNON

He was son of Findloga, and a disciple of St. Finian at Clonard. Passing afterwards into Wales, he lived some time under the discipline of St. Gildas, also several years in the abbey of Llan-carven, in Glamorganshire. He built in Britain the monastery of Ailech, and another church in a territory called Heth. Returning into Ireland, he founded there several schools and monasteries, the chief of which was that of Cluain-fearta.* He wrote a monastic rule which was long famous in Ireland, taught some time at Roscarbre, and died at Enach-duin, a monastery which he had built for his sister Briga, in Connaught. He is named in the Roman Martyrology on the 16th of May, on which he passed to bliss, in the year 578, in the ninety fourth year of his age. His life, extant in MS. in the Cottonian Library, is filled with apocryphal relations of miracles. See Usher’s Antiq. pp. 271, 471, 494. Smith, Natural and Civil History of Kerry, pp. 412 and 68.

MAY 17 — ST. PASCHAL BAYLON, C

From his two lives, one written by John Ximenes, his companion; the other, In order to his canonization See other monuments in Papebroke, t. 4; Maij, p. 48.

A. D. 1592.

THE state of poverty was honored by the choice of our blessed Redeemer, and hath been favored with his special blessing. It removes men from many dangers and temptations, and furnishes them with perpetual occasions for the exercise of self-denial, patience, penance, resignation to the divine will, and every other heroic Christian virtue: yet these great means of salvation are by many, through ignorance, impatience, and inordinate desires, often perverted into occasions of their temporal and eternal misery. Happy are they who, by making a right use of the spiritual advantages which this state, so dear to our divine Redeemer, offers them, procure to themselves present peace, joy, and every solid good; and make every circumstance of that condition in which providence hath placed them a step to perfect virtue and to everlasting happiness. This in an eminent degree was the privilege of St. Paschal Baylon. He was born in 1540, at Torre-Hermosa, a small country town in the kingdom of Aragon. His parents were day-labourers, and very virtuous; and to their example our saint was greatly indebted for the spirit of piety and devotion, which he seemed to have sucked in from his mother’s milk. Their circumstances were too narrow to afford his being sent to school; but the pious child, out of an earnest desire of attaining to so great a means of instruction, carried a book with him into the fields where he watched the sheep, and desired those that he met to teach him the letters; and thus, in a short time, being yet very young, he learned to read. This advantage he made use of only to improve his soul in devotion and piety: books of amusement he never would look into; but the lives of the saints, and, above all, meditations on the life of Christ, were his chiefest delight. He loved nothing but what was serious and of solid advantage, at a time of life in which many seem scarce susceptible of such impressions. When he was of a proper age, he engaged with a master to keep his flocks as under-shepherd: he was delighted with the innocent and quiet life his state permitted him to lead. That solitary life had charms for him. Whatever he saw was to him an object of faith and devotion. He read continually in the great book of nature; and from every object raised his soul to God, whom he contemplated and praised in all his works. Besides external objects, he had almost continually a spiritual book in his hands, which served to instruct and to inflame his soul in the love and practice of virtue. His master, who was a person of singular piety, was charmed with his edifying conduct, and made him an offer to adopt him for his son, and to make him his heir. But Paschal, who desired only the goods of another life, was afraid that those of this world would prove to him an incumbrance; he therefore modestly declined the favor, desiring always to remain in his humble state, as being more conformable to that which Christ chose for himself on earth, who came not into the world to be served, but to serve. He was often discovered praying on his knees under some tree, while his flocks were browsing on the hills. It was by this secret entertainment of his soul with God, in the most profound humility, and perfect purity of his affections, that he acquired a most sublime science arid experience in spiritual things at which those who were the most advanced were struck with admiration He could truly say with David: Blessed is he whom thou thyself shalt instruct, O Lord.1 He spoke of God and of virtue with an inimitable unction and experimental light, and with sentiments which the Holy Ghost alone forms in souls which are perfectly disengaged from earthly things, and replenished with his heavenly tire. Often was he seen ravished in holy prayer; and frequently was not able to conceal from the eyes of men the vehement ardor of the divine love with which his soul melted in an excess of heavenly sweetness. He felt in himself what many servants of God assure us of, that “the consolation which the Holy Ghost frequently infuses into pious souls, is greater than all the pleasures of the world together, could they be enjoyed by one man. It makes the heart to dissolve and melt through excess of joy, under which it is unable to contain itself.”2 In these sentiments did this servant of God sing with David: My soul shall rejoice in the Lord, and shall be delighted in his salvation. All my bones shall say, O Lord, who is like to thee!3 The reward of virtue is reserved for heaven; but some comforts are not denied during the present time of trial. Even in this vale of tears, God will make its desert as a place of pleasure; and its wilderness as the garden of the Lord. Joy and gladness shall be found in it, thanksgiving and the voice of praise. (Isa. 51:3). It is sufficiently understood that the saint did not receive these heavenly comforts without severe interior trials, and a constan practice of self-denial, by which his heart was crucified to the world. The dew of extraordinary spiritual comforts never falls on unmortified souls, which seek the delights of this world. St. Paschal in his poverty joined alms with his continual prayer; and not having any other means to relieve the poor, always gave them a good part of his own dinner which was sent him into the fields.

How great soever his love was for his profession, he found however several difficulties in it which made him think of leaving it. He was not able, notwithstanding all the care he could take, to hinder a flock of goats he had in charge from sometimes trespassing on another’s ground. This occasioned his giving over the inspection of that flock. But he found other troubles in taking care of other cattle. Some of his companions, not having the same piety with himself, were but too much addicted to cursing, quarrelling, and fighting; nor were they to be reclaimed by his gentle rebukes on these accounts. He was therefore determined to leave them, not to participate in their crimes. And to learn the will of God in this important choice of a state of life in which he might most faithfully serve him, he redoubled his prayers, fasts, and other austerities. After some time spent in this manner, he determined to become a religious man. Those to whom he first disclosed his inclination to a religious state, pointed out to him several convents richly endowed. But that circumstance alone was enough to disgus him; and his answer was: “I was born poor, and I am resolved to live and die in poverty and penance.” Being at that time twenty years of age he left his master, his friends, and his country, and went into the kingdom of Valentia, where was an austere convent of barefoot reformed Franciscans, called Soccolans, which stood in a desert solitude, but at no great distance from the town of Montfort. He addressed himself to the fathers of this house for spiritual advice; and, in the mean time, he entered into the service of certain farmers in the neighborhood to keep their sheep. He continued here his penitential and retired life in assiduous prayer, and was known in the whole country by the name of the Holy Shepherd. To sequester himself from the world, he made the more haste to petition for the habit of a lay-brother in the house above-mentioned: and was admitted in 1564. The fathers desired to persuade him to enter himself among the clerks, or those who aspired to holy orders, and sing the divine office in the choir; but they were obliged to yield to his humility, and admit him among the lay-brothers of the community. He was not only a fervent novice, which we often see, but also a most fervent religious man, always advancing, and never losing ground. Though his rule was most austere, he added continually to its severity, but always with simplicity of heart, without the least attachment to his own will; and whenever he was admonished of any excess in his practices of mortification, he most readily confined himself to the letter of his rule. The meanest employments always gave him the highest satisfaction. Whenever he changed convents, according to the custom of his order, the better to prevent any secret attachments of the heart, he never complained of any thing, nor so much as said that he found any thing in one house more agreeable than in another; because, being entirely dead to himself, he everywhere sought only God. He never allowed himself a moment of repose between the Church and cloister duties, and his work; nor did his labor interrupt his prayer. He had never more than one habit, and that always threadbare. He walked without sandals in the snows, and in the roughest roads. He accommodated himself to all places and seasons, and was always content, cheerful, mild, affable, and full of respect for all. He thought himself honored if employed in any painful and low office to serve any one.

The general of the order happening to be at Paris, Paschal was sent thither to him about some necessary business of his province. Many of the cities through which he was to pass in France, were in the hands of the Huguenots, who were then in arms. Yet he offered himself to a martyrdom of obedience, travelled in his habit, and without so much as sandals on his feet, was often pursued by the Huguenots with sticks and stones, and received a wound on one shoulder of which he remained lame as long as he lived. He was twice taken for a spy; but God delivered him out of all dangers. On the very day on which he arrived at his convent from this tedious journey, he went out to his work and other duties as usual. He never spoke of any thing that had happened to him in his journey unless asked; and then was careful to suppress whatever might reflect on him the least honor or praise. He had a singular devotion to the mother of God, whose intercession he never ceased to implore that he might be preserved from sin. The holy sacrament of the altar was the object of his most tender devotion; also the passion of our divine Redeemer. He spent, especially towards the end of his life, a considerable part of the night at the foot of the altar on his knees, or prostrate on the ground. In prayer he was often favored with ecstasies and raptures. He died at Villa Reale near Valentia, on the 17th of May, in 1592, being fifty-two years old. His corpse was exposed three days, during which time the great multitudes which from all parts visited the church, were witnesses to many miracles by which God attested the sanctity of his servant. St. Paschal was beatified by Pope Paul V. in 1618, and canonized by Alexander VIII. in 1690.

If Christians in every station endeavored with their whole strength continually to advance in virtue, the Church would be filled with saints. But alas! though it be an undoubted maxim, that not to go on in a spiritual life is to fall back, “Nothing is more rare,” says St. Bernard, “than to find persons who always press forward. We see more converted from vice to virtue, than increase their fervor in virtue.” This is something dreadful. The same father assigns two principal reasons. First, many who begin well, after some time grow again remiss in the exercises of mortification and prayer, and return to the amusements, pleasures, and vanities of a worldly life. Secondly, others who are regular and constant in exterior duties, neglect to watch over and cultivate their interior; so that some interior spiritual vice insinuates itself into their affections, and renders them an abomination in the eyes of God. “A man,” says St. Bernard,4 “who gives himself up entirely to exterior exercises without looking seriously into his own heart to see what passes there, imposes upon himself, imagining that he is something while he is nothing. His eyes being always fixed on his exterior actions, he flatters himself that he goes on well, and neither sees nor feels the secret worm which gnaws and consumes his heart. He keeps all fasts, assists at all parts of the divine office, and fails in no exercise of piety or penance; yet God declares, ‘His heart is far from me.’ He only employs his hands in fulfilling the precepts, and his heart is hard and dry. His duties are complied with by habit and a certain rotation: he omits not a single iota of all his exterior employments; but while he strains at a gnat, he swallows a camel. In his heart he is a slave to self-will, and is a prey to avarice, vain-glory, and ambition: one or other or all these vices together reign in his soul.”

MAY 17 — SAINT POSSIDIUS, B. C

He was a native of the proconsular Africa, and had his education under the great St. Austin. In 397 he was chosen bishop of Calama in Numidia which diocese he found distracted by the factions both of heathens and Donatists. In 404, a party of the latter dragged him out of his house, beat him, and threatened his life. All the revenge he took of them was to obtain their pardon from the emperor. Four years after this, the idolaters, in a riotous festival on the 1st of June, had the insolence to dance round the church, throw stones into it, and set it on fire, wounding several of the clergy, and killing one upon the spot. Nectarius, a principal person among the heathens, who had no share in this tumult, wrote to St. Austin to beg him to intercede with the emperor for the pardon of the rioters, observing to him that it is the duty of the Christian pastors to employ themselves in works of mercy and peace. By the interposition of Possidius their punishment was only an order which the emperor sent for the breaking down their idols, with a prohibition of their abominable festivals and sacrifices. When the relics of St. Stephen were brought into Africa, about the year 410, our holy bishop was careful to enrich Calama with a portion of them, by which several miracles were there wrought, as St. Austin informs us.1 St. Possidius was doubtless one of those bishops who established among the clergy of their cathedrals a monastic regularity in imitation of St. Austin, and according to the rule by him instituted, as our saint mentions in the life of that great doctor; and St. Austin speaks of the poor religious men of Calama. The Vandals passed over from Spain into Africa with an army of fourscore thousand veteran soldiers, long accustomed to blood and plunder; and made themselves in a short time masters of Mauritania, Numidia, and the proconsular province, except the strong fortresses of Carthage, Cirta, and Hippo. They pillaged the whole country and the towns which lay in their way; and among others Calama, which seems to have never since lifted up its head. St. Possidius took refuge in Hippo with his dear master, St. Austin, who soon after died in his arms in 430, during the siege of that city, which some time after fell into the hands of the barbarians. These were severe trials to our saint, who from that time lived in perpetual banishment from his flock. He wrote the life of St. Austin, with a catalogue of his works. The Italians say, that from Africa he came into Italy, and died at Mirandola. That city and Rhegio in Apulia honor him as patron. The regular canons keep his festival on the 17th of May, and regard him as one of the most illustrious fathers of their order. See the life and works of St. Austin and Papebroke, who show that it is a mistake to confound St. Possidius with Possidonius, another African bishop sometimes mentioned with him in the same councils, t. 4, Maij, p. 27. See also Ceillier, t. 12, p. 261.

MAY 17 — ST. MADEN, OR MADERN, C

Honored in Brittany, where he is patron of a parish in the diocese of St. Malo: and probably of another in the same diocese, called Plu-Mauden, as F. Lobineau takes notice.1 His name was also in the highest veneration in Cornwall, where he lived and died in a hermitage near the Land’s End, where a chapel which bore his name was long famous for pilgrimages and miracles.

Among the miracles ascribed to St. Madern, that which follows was attested by Dr. Joseph Hall, the Protestant bishop of Exeter, who in his last visitation of this diocese, before he was translated to the see of Norwich in 1641, made a juridical and strict inquiry into all the circumstances of this fact, and authentically declared the evidence of the miracle to be incontestable. The strong prejudices and inveterate hatred against the Catholic religion, which he discovers in his Dissuasive from Popery to W. D. revolted, (viz., a late convert to the Catholic faith,) and in many other parts of his voluminous writings, and of which the history of his whole life is a constant proof, render his testimony the more unexceptionable. In his treatise On the Invisible World,2 he speaks of a miraculous cure wrought at St. Madern’s well, in the following words: “The commerce that we have with the good spirits is not now discerned by the eye, but is, like themselves, spiritual. Yet not so, but that even in bodily occasions we have many times insensible helps from them; in such manner as that by the effects we can boldly say: Here hath been an angel, though we see him not. Of this kind was that (no less than miraculous) cure which at St. Madern’s in Cornwall was wrought upon a poor cripple, John Trelille, whereof (besides the attestation of many hundreds of neighbors) I took a strict and personal examination it that last visitation which I either did or ever shall hold. This man, that for sixteen years together was fain to walk upon his hands, by reason of the close contraction of the sinews of his legs, (upon three admonitions in a dream to wash in that well,) was suddenly so restored to his limbs, that I saw him able to walk and get his own maintenance. I found here was neither art nor collusion: the thing done, the author invisible.”

Another writer, a curious searcher into nature, and of great learning, who lived in that country about the same time, gives a fuller account of the same miraculous cure, as follows:3 “I will relate one miracle more done in our own country, to the great wonder of the neighboring inhabitants, but a few years ago, viz., about the year 1640. The process of the business was told the king when at Oxford, which he caused to be further examined. It was this:—A certain boy of twelve years old, called John Trelille, in the county of Cornwall, not far from the Land’s End, as they were playing at foot-ball, snatching up the ball ran away with it; whereupon a girl in anger struck him with a thick stick on the back-bone, and so bruised or broke it, that for sixteen years after he was forced to go creeping on the ground. In this condition he arrived to the twenty-eighth year of his age, when he dreamed that if he did but bathe in St. Madern’s well, or in the stream running from it, he should recover his former strength and health. This is a place in Cornwall from the remains of ancient devotion still frequented by Protestants on the Thursdays in May, and especially on the feast of Corpus Christi; near to which well is a chapel dedicated to St. Madern, where is yet an altar, and right against it a grassy hillock (made every year anew by the country people) which they call St. Madern’s bed. The chapel-roof is quite decayed; but a kind of thorn of itself shooting forth of the old walls, so extends its boughs that it covers the whole chapel, and supplies as it were a roof. On a Thursday in May, assisted by one Periman his neighbor, entertaining great hopes from his dream, thither he crept, and lying before the altar, and praying very fervently that he might regain his health and the strength of his limbs, he washed his whole body in the stream that flowed from the well, and ran through the chapel: after which, having slept about an hour and a half on St. Madern’s bed, through the extremity of pain he felt in his nerves and arteries, he began to cry out, and his companion helping and lifting him up, he perceived his hams and joints somewhat extended, and himself become stronger, insomuch, that partly with his feet, partly with his hands, he went much more erect than before. Before the following Thursday he got two crutches, resting on which he could make shift to walk, which before he could not do. And coming to the chapel as before, after having bathed himself he slept on the same bed, and awaking found himself much stronger and more upright; and so leaving one crutch in the chapel, he went home with the other. The third Thursday he returned to the chapel, and bathed as before, slept, and when he awoke rose up quite cured; yea, grew so strong, that he wrought day-labor among other hired servants; and four years after listed himself a soldier in the king’s army, where he behaved himself with great stoutness, both of mind and body. at length, in 1644, he was slain at Lime in Dorsetshire.” The author takes notice that Thursday and Friday were the days chosen out of devotion to the blessed Eucharist and the Passion of Christ.

MAY 17 — ST. MAW, C

This name in the Cornish language signifies a boy.1 He was a native of Ireland, and came young into Cornwall that he might live to God alone in the closest solitude, in the practice of the most austere penance and the exercises of divine prayer. His hermitage was on the sea-coast, near the spacious harbor of Falmouth. The place is still called St. Mawes, in Latin S. Mauditi Castrum, where a church, and in the churchyard a chair of solid stone and a miraculous or holy well still bear his name. See Leland’s Itiner., vol. ix., p. 79; vol. iii., fol. 13, alias 19, where he writes that this saint had been a bishop in Britain, and was painted as a schoolmaster.2

MAY 17 — ST. CATHAN, B. C

He flourished in the sixth or seventh century. His relics in the isle of Bute were so famous in Scotland, that the island was often called Kil-cathan.1 See Breviar. Aberd. and Scoti-chr.

MAY 17 — ST. SILAVE, OR SILAN, B. C

He was an Irish monk, and abbot of the monastery of St. Brendan. Being afterwards ordained bishop, he governed his diocese with great zeal and charity. The latter part of his life he spent in Italy, where he was styled the Father of the Poor. He died at Lucca in 1100, and was canonized by pope Lucius III. in 1183. See Colgan, in MSS. ad 17 Maij.

MAY 18 — ST. ERIC, KING OF SWEDEN, M

see Israelis Eriandi liber de vitâ et miraculis S. Erici Regis, ex editione et cum notis Joan. Schefferi, is 8vo. Hoimiæ, 1675, and Henschenius, t. 4, Maij, p. 186.

A. D. 1151

ERIC1 was descended of a most illustrions Swedish family: in his youth he laid a solid foundation of virtue and learning, and took to wife Christina, daughter of Ingo IV., king of Sweden. Upon the death of king Smercher in 1141, he was, purely for his extraordinary virtues and qualifications, placed on the throne by the election of the states, according to the ancient laws of that kingdom. His first care in that exalted and dangerous station was to watch over his own soul. He treated his body with great severity, fasting and watching much, in order to keep his domestic enemy in due subjection to the spirit, and to fit himself for the holy exercises of heavenly contemplation and prayer, which were his chief delight. He was truly the father and servant of all his people. With indefatigable application he himself administered to them justice, especially to the poor, to whose complaints his ears were always open, and whose grievances and oppressions he took care himself to redress. He often visited in person the poor that were sick, and relieved them with bountiful alms. Content with his own patrimony, he levied no taxes. He built churches, and by wholesome laws restrained the brutish and savage vices of his subjects. The frequent inroads of the idolatrous Finlanders upon his territories obliged him to take the field against them. He vanquished them in a great battle; but after his victory he wept bitterly at the sight of the dead bodies of his enemies which covered the field, because they had been slain unbaptized. When he had subdued Finland, he sent St. Henry, bishop of Upsal, to preach the faith of Christ to that savage infidel nation, of which he may be styled the apostle. Among the subjects of this good king were certain sons of Belial, who made his piety the subject of their ridicule, being mostly obstinate idolaters. Magnus, son of the king of Denmark, blinded by ambitious views to the crown of Sweden, put himself at the head of these impious malecontents, and engaged them in a conspiracy to take away the life of their sovereign. The holy king was hearing mass on the day after the feast of the ascension, when news was brought him that the rebels were in arms, and on the march against him. He calmly answered: “Let us at least finish the sacrifice; the remainder of the festival I shall keep elsewhere.” After mass he recommended his soul to God, made the sign of the cross, and, to spare the blood of the citizens, who were ready to defend his life at the expense of their own, marched out alone before his guards. The conspirators rushed upon him, beat him down from his horse, and struck off his head with a thousand indignities in derision of his religion. His death happened on the 18th of May, 1151. God honored his tomb with many miracles. It remains to this day at Upsal undefaced. St. Eric was honored as chief patron of the kingdom of Sweden till the change of religion in the sixteenth century. He ordered the ancient laws and constitutions of the kingdom to be collected in one volume, which bears the title of King Eric’s Law, or the Code of Uppland, highly respected in Sweden: it was confirmed in the thirteenth century by the learned king Magnus Ladulas, who compiled and published in 1285 another code under the title of Gardsrætte.

All power and authority among men is derived from God, as Christ declared to Pilate,2 and as the wise man often repeats. Whence St. Paul teaches us, that he who resisteth power, resisteth the ordinance of God.3 On no men doth he confer the least degree of jurisdiction, but with the most severe injunction and obligation that they employ it according to his will, and in the first place for the advancement of his divine honor. Hence every father, master of a family, magistrate, or king, is accountable to God for those under his charge, and will be condemned as a traitor on the last day, if he employs not all the means in his power that God may be known, praised, and faithfully served by them. This is the primary obligation of those whom God hath vested with authority. In the faithful discharge of this trust the glorious St. Eric laid down his life.

MAY 18 — ST. THEODOTUS, VINTNER, AND SEVEN VIRGINS, MM

From their authentic acts, written by one Nilus, an eye-witness, in Ruinart’s Acta Sincera. p. 336. See Tillemont, and the English abridgment of these acts.

A. D. 303.

ST. THEODOTUS was a citizen of Ancyra, the capital of Galatia. From his tender years he had been brought up in perfect sentiments of piety, by the care of a holy virgin called Thecusa. He was married, kept an inn, and sold wine; but, what is very rare to be found in that profession, was just, abstemious, and zealous in the practice of all the duties of religion. In the flower of his age he despised riches and pleasures; made fasting, almsdeeds, and prayer, his delight, and laid himself out in relieving the necessitous, comforting the distressed, and bringing sinners to repentance: he had also encouraged many persons to suffer martyrdom. It was a settled maxim with him, that it is more glorious for a Christian to suffer poverty than to possess riches; the great advantage of which consists in employing them on the poor, those especially who were persecuted for the faith. He had likewise the gift of miracles; for, according to his acts, he, by his prayers and the laying on of his hands, healed such as were afflicted with incurable diseases. A life of softness and ease he condemned as unworthy a Christian, saying, that “it enervates a soldier of Christ, and that a Christian addicted to pleasure can never be a martyr,” as every disciple of Christ is bound to be in the disposition of his heart. So persuasive were his exhortations to piety, that by them he converted drunkards to temperance, the most debauched persons to continence, and the covetous to the love of poverty. When the persecution of Dioclesian was raised against the church, Theodotus was not dismayed; because his whole life had been a preparation for martyrdom. The bloody edicts published at Nicomedia in 303 soon reached Galatia. Theotecnus, the most cruel governor of that province, promised the emperor to extirpate the Christian name out of his district. No sooner had the bare report of his being on the road to Ancyra reached that city, than the greater part of the faithful betook themselves to flight; incredible numbers of them taking shelter in desert and mountainous places. The pagans in the mean while feasted and revelled in transports of public joy on this occasion. They broke into the houses of the Christians and carried off whatever they pleased, without opposition; for the least complaint would have been dangerous to him that made it. No Christian was seen in the streets, unless to suffer for his religion, or to renounce it: the most noted persons among them lay in prison, loaded with irons, their goods confiscated, their wives and daughters dragged about the streets by insolent ruffians, and their very babes forced to undergo the greatest hardships on account of the religious principle of their parents, the only crime they alleged against them.

While this violent persecution raged at Ancyra, Theodotus assisted those who were imprisoned for the faith, and buried the bodies of the martyrs, though the performance of that last duty was forbid under pain of death. The governor had ordered all the provisions that were sold publicly to be offered to the idols before they were exposed to sale, that the Christians might be reduced to starve, or give a sanction to that abominable consecration, and even be obliged to unite the service of Jesus Christ with that of the devils on the very altar. But Theodotus had laid in a large stock of corn and wine, which he sold to the Christians at prime cost, and thus the altars were furnished with pure oblations, and the faithful supplied with food without defiling their consciences, or giving the least umbrage to the pagans. His profession privileged this way of proceeding; and thus, while he seemed only employed in keeping an inn, his house was at once the place of divine worship, a hospital for the sick and strangers, and the only refuge of the Christians in that town. While he thus studied the security of others, he freely exposed his own life on all occasions where the glory of God was concerned. A friend of his, named Victor, was taken up at that time, and accused by the priests of Diana of having said Apollo had debauched that goddess, his own sister; and that it was a shame for the Greeks to honor him as a god who was guilty of a crime that shocks the lewdest of men. The judge offered him his life, if he would comply with the edict of the emperor; and he was made to believe his obedience would be rewarded with great preferment at court; but if he remained obstinate, he was to expect a slow and painful death, his body should be thrown to the dogs, his estate confiscated, and his family quite destroyed. Theodotus, full of apprehension for his friend thus powerfully attacked, hastened to the prison where he was confined, encouraged him to bear up against all the menaces, and despise the promises that were employed to deprive him of the eternal reward due to his perseverance. Victor received fresh courage from his discourse, and as long as he remembered the instructions of our saint, was an overmatch for all the cruelty of his executioners. He had almost finished his course, when he desired some time to consider of the proposals that had been offered him; upon which he was carried back to prison, where he died of his wounds without making any further declaration, which has left his end doubtful in the church, and deprived him of the honor due to martyrs.

There is a town at some miles’ distance from Ancyra, called Malus, where Theodotus, by a particular disposition of providence, arrived just as the persecutors were throwing into the river Halys the remains of the martyr Valens, who after long and cruel torments had been burned alive. These relics Theodotus found means to secure, and was carrying off, when, at some little distance from Malus, he was met by some Christians, who had been taken up by their own relations for beating down an altar of Diana, and had lately recovered their liberty by his means; Theodotus having, besides great trouble and expense in the affair, exposed his very lite in their deliverance. They were all overjoyed to see him, and joined in thanks to him, as the common friend and benefactor of persons in distress; and he no less rejoicing at the sight of those glorious confessors, desired they would allow him to give them some refreshment before they went any further. They sat down about a quarter of a mile from the town, and sent thither to invite the priest of the place to dine with them, and say the usual prayers before meat,* and those for travellers before they pursued their journey. The messengers met the priest as he was coming out of the church after sext, or the prayer of the sixth hour,† who pressed Theodotus to come to his house to dine with him; but our saint desired to be excused, being in haste to return to Ancyra for the assistance of the suffering Christians in that city. After dining together on the spot, Theodotus told the priest he thought that place very proper for the lodging relics. “Yes,” said Fronto, for that was the priest’s name, “but we must have them before we can think of building a place for their reception.” Theodotus told him, God would take care of that; desired he would only see an edifice raised as soon as possible; and assured him the relics should not be wanting. When he had given him this assurance, he took his ring from his finger, left it with the priest as an earnest of his promise, and returned to Ancyra, where he found the persecution had made as much havoc as an earthquake could have done.

Among those that suffered in that city were seven virgins, grown old in virtue. The governor finding them invincible in the profession of the Christian faith, delivered them into the hands of some young libertines to be insulted and abused in contempt of their religion, and to the prejudice of their chastity, which had always been their brightest ornament. They had no arms but prayers and tears, which they offered to Jesus Christ, the author and guardian of their virtue; and protested against the violence offered them. One of the young debauchees, more impudent than the rest, laid hold of Thecusa, the oldest of that holy company, and dragged her aside. Thecusa cast herself at his feet, bathed in tears, and thus expostulated with him: “My son, what designs can you have on such as us, quite worn out as you see with fasting, sickness, torments, and old age?” She was upwards of seventy, and her companions not much younger. “It is preposterous,” said she, “to entertain a passion for such carcasses as ours, shortly to be cast forth to be devoured by beasts and birds of prey; for the governor refuses us burial.” Then rending her veil, she showed him her gray hairs, saying: “Pay some regard to these, who perhaps have a mother of the same age. For her sake, leave us to our tears, ’tis all we desire; and do not despair of a reward from Christ on account of your forbearance.” The young men were all so affected with this speech that they desisted, and joined their tears with those of the holy virgins, and withdrew. Theotecnus perceiving his design defeated, attacked their constancy another way. He proposed their engaging in the service of Diana and Minerva, and officiating as priestesses to those pretended deities. The heathens of Ancyra had an annual custom of washing the images of those goddesses in a neighboring pond; and the day for performing that ceremony happening at that time, the governor obliged them to attend the solemnity. As the idols were each to be carried thither in a pompous manner, and in a separate chariot, the governor gave orders for the seven virgins to be placed in derision in other open chariots, in a standing posture, naked, and to be carried with the idols to the pond for the same purpose. They accordingly led up the procession, then came the idols, followed by a great crowd of people, and Theotecnus himself in the rear, attended by his guards. Theodotus was all this while under great concern for the seven virgins, begged the Almighty to carry them victoriously through the severe trials to which they were exposed, and waited the event in a house near the church of the patriarchs, in company with some other devout persons. They had been prostrate on the ground, and fixed in prayer from break of day till noon, when news was brought that Thecusa and her six companions had been all thrown into the pond aforesaid, and there drowned. Theodotus, overjoyed at this account, raised himself on his knees, shed a flood of tears, lifted up his hands to heaven, and with a loud voice returned thanks for the success of his prayers. He then inquired into the particulars of their sufferings and behavior, and was told by one who had been in the crowd and had seen all things that passed, how that the virgins had slighted all the governor’s fair speeches and promises, had severely rebuked the priestesses of the heathen deities that presented them the crowns and white garments which were the badges of their priestly office, and rejected their offer with horror and indignation. Whereupon the governor ordered them to be thrown into the deepest part of the pond, with large stones hung about their necks, which was accordingly executed. Theodotus, upon hearing this, consulted with the master of the house and one Polychronius, how they should get the bodies of the seven martyrs out of the water; and in the evening they were informed that the task was rendered more difficult by the guards the governor had posted near the pond. This news gave Theodotus a most sensible affliction. He left his company and went to the church of the patriarchs; but found the pagans had deprived him of the comfort he expected there by walling up the door. However, he prostrated himself without the church, near the shell where the altar stood, and continued there some time in prayer. From thence he made his way to another church, where, finding the same bar to his entrance, he again threw himself on the ground near the building, and poured out his soul in fervent prayer. But hearing a great noise behind him, imagining he was pursued, he went back to the house where he had left his friends, and lay there that night. Thecusa appeared to him in his dream, reproached him with taking his ease while she and the companions of her sufferings were neglected; conjured him by all the pains she had taken for his education, and the affection he once bore her, to rescue their bodies from the fishes; assured him he should be called to a like trial within two days, and then bid him arise and go directly to the pond, but to beware of a traitor.

Upon this he arose, and related his vision to his companions, and as soon as it was day, sent two persons to take a view of the guard, which they hoped would be drawn off on account of its being the festival of Diana, but they were mistaken. To engage the blessing of God more effectually on the undertaking, they fasted till night, and then set out. It was very dark, and neither moon nor stars appeared, which enhanced the horror of the place, it being where malefactors were executed. It was strewed with heads and scattered remains of burnt bodies. This shocking scene would probably have made them give over the attempt for that time, had they not been encouraged by a voice which called our saint by his name and bid him go on boldly. Upon this invitation they made the sign of the cross on their foreheads,* and immediately saw before them a light in the form of a cross to the eastward. They fell on their knees, adored God with their faces turned towards that glorious phenomenon, after which they went on; but it was so dark that they could not see one another; at the same time a heavy rain fell, which made it so dirty that they could scarce keep themselves upon their legs. In this difficulty they had recourse to prayer, and immediately a body of fire appeared, and moved before them, and two men clothed in shining garments appearing to them, were heard to say: “Theodotus, take courage, God has written thy name among the martyrs: he has sent us to receive thee: we are they whom they call the Fathers: thou wilt find near the pond Sosander in arms; and the guards are in a terrible consternation at the sight of him; but thou shouldst not have brought a traitor with thee.” This last clause none of the company understood. The storm still continuing, the thunder, wind, and rain made the sentinels very uneasy in their post; but the apparition of a man completely armed, darting fire round him, was too terrible to allow them to keep their ground. They accordingly betook themselves to the neighboring cottages. The way being thus cleared for our martyr and his companions, following their guide, or luminous body before-mentioned, they came to the side of the pond; and the wind raged so violently, that, as it drove the water to the sides of the pond, it discovered the bottom where the bodies of the virgins lay. Whereupon Theodotus and his companions drew out the bodies, laid them upon horses, and carried them to the church of the patriarchs, near which they interred them. The names of these seven martyrs were Thecusa, Alexandria, Claudia, Euphrasia, Matrona, Julitta, and Phaina.

The news of this removal of the saints’ bodies was spread all over the town the next day; every Christian that appeared was put to torture about it. Theodotus understanding that several had been taken up, was for surrendering himself and owning the fact; but the Christians would not let him follow his inclinations. Polychronius, who had assisted our saint in carrying off the bodies of the seven virgins, the better to be informed of what passed in the city, disguised himself in a peasant’s dress, and went to the market-place. But he was discovered by some who knew him to be related to Thecusa, carried before the governor, examined, and being beaten by his order, and threatened with death, he was weak and base enough to say that Theodotus had taken away the bodies, and discovered the place where he had concealed them. Upon which, orders were given for these valuable relics to be taken up and burnt; and thus it appeared who was the traitor against whom they had been cautioned. Theodotus being informed of this, took his last farewell of the brethren, begged their prayers, and prepared himself for the combat. They continued a long time in prayer, beseeching God to put an end to the persecution, and grant peace to the church. They then embraced him; who, making the sign of the cross over his body,* went boldly to the place of trial. Meeting two of his old acquaintance and fellow-citizens on the way, they endeavored to persuade him to provide for his own security, before it was too late; and told him the priestesses of Diana and Minerva were that moment with the governor, accusing him of discouraging the worship of the gods, and that Polychronius too was there, ready to prove what he had alleged about his carrying off the bodies of the seven martyrs.

Theodotus assured them they could not give him a more substantial proof of their regard for him, than by going to the magistrates, and telling them the man against whom those articles were alleged was at the door, and desired admittance. Being come to the end of his journey, he, with a smiling countenance, surveyed the fire, wheels, racks, and other instruments of torture which they had got ready upon this occasion. The governor told him it was still in his power to avoid the torments prepared for the disobedient; offered him his friendship, assured him of the good will of the emperor, and promised to make him a priest of Apollo, and governor of the town, upon condition he would endeavor to recover his neighbors and friends from their delusion, and teach them to forget Jesus Christ. Theodotus in his reply, on one hand, insisted on the enormous crimes the heathen gods stood charged with, even by their own poets and historians; and on the other, extolled the greatness and the miracles of Jesus Christ. A discourse like this could not but incense the idolaters. The priestesses were so transported with rage that they rent their clothes, dishevelled their hair, and tore their crowns, which were the marks of their sacrilegious dignity; and the populace were very clamorous in demanding justice on this enemy of their gods. The governor ordered him to be stretched on the rack, and every one seemed desirous of having a share in vindicating the honor of the offended deities. Several executioners were successively employed in tearing his body with iron hooks; then vinegar was poured upon his wounds, and his flesh burnt with torches. When the martyr smelt the burning of his flesh he turned his head aside a little, which the governor mistaking for a sign of his fainting under the torments, put him in mind that his present sufferings were all owing to his disrespect for the emperor, and contempt of the gods. The martyr told him he was mistaken in imagining he was in a yielding disposition, because he turned his head aside; on the contrary, he could not help thinking that his officers did their duty carelessly, and therefore entreated him to see that his orders were better obeyed. He then bid him invent new tortures, which should all contribute to show what courage Jesus Christ inspires into such as suffer for him; and let him know in plain terms, that while he was thus united to, and supported by his Saviour, he was an overmatch for all the power of men. The governor, surprised and enraged at this freedom, commanded him to be struck on the jaws with a stone, in order to beat out his teeth. But Theodotus told him nothing of that nature could interrupt his conversation with his God, who would hear the language of his heart and sufferings, if he should be deprived of the use of speech. The executioners were now quite tired out with labor, while the martyr seemed to feel nothing; upon which he was ordered back to prison, and reserved for further punishment. As he went along, he took care to draw the eyes of the crowd on his mangled body, which he offered to their consideration as a glorious proof of the power of Jesus Christ, and the strength he gives to his servants, of what condition soever, and, pointing at his wounds: “It is but reasonable,” said he, “that we should offer to Him such sacrifices, who was pleased to set us the example, and submit to be sacrificed for us.” At the end of five days the governor ordered Theodotus to be brought before him, and finding his courage not the least abated, directed the executioners to stretch him a second time upon the rack, and open all his wounds. He then caused him to be taken off and laid upon the ground, strewed with red-hot tiles, which put him to inexpressible torment. But finding him not to be overcome, though put upon the rack the third time and tortured as before, he condemned him to lose his head; with strict orders that his body should be burnt, to prevent its being buried by the Christians. The holy martyr being come to the place of execution, returned thanks to Jesus Christ for his grace and support under the torments he had undergone, and for having made choice of him for a citizen of the heavenly Jerusalem: he also begged of him to put an end to the persecution, and grant peace to his afflicted church. Then turning to the Christians who attended him, bid them not weep, but rather thank God for having enabled him to finish his course, and overcome the enemy; and assured them that he would employ his charity in praying for them with confidence in heaven.* After this short speech he cheerfully received the fatal stroke. The corpse was then laid upon a large funeral pile, but before they could set fire to it, they beheld it surrounded by such an extraordinary light that none durst approach near enough to kindle it. This being reported to the governor, he ordered the body to be watched by a guard he dispatched thither for that purpose.

Fronto, the priest of Malus, came to Ancyra that day with the view of carrying back the relics Theodotus had promised him, and had brought with him the ring he had left in his hands as a pledge. He had with him an ass laden with wine of his own vineyard, which he cultivated himself: this was probably designed as a present to Theodotus. He reached the town in the evening; his ass, tired with the journey, lay down near the pile, and did not seem disposed to go any further. The soldiers invited him to pass the night with them, where they assured him he might be better accommodated than at an inn; they having made themselves the day before a hut of reeds and willow branches, near which they had kindled a fire and dressed their supper just as the priest arrived, whom they invited to partake with them. Fronto accepted of their invitation, and in return gave them a taste of his wine, which they found excellent, and of which they drank pretty freely. They then began to talk of what they had suffered on occasion of the dead bodies of seven women being carried away by one made of brass, as they said, whose body was now in their custody. Fronto desired they would explain themselves, and let him into the story of the dead bodies and the brazen man. One of them undertook to give the particulars of the seven martyrs, the rescue of their bodies, the seeming insensibility of Theodotus while under the sharpest torments, which was the reason of their calling him a man of brass; and the punishment they had reason to expect if they lost his body. Hereupon Fronto gave God thanks, and invoked his assistance on the present occasion. After supper, perceiving the guards in a dead sleep, he took the venerable relics of the martyr, put his ring upon his finger, and laid the body on the ass, which, being let loose, went directly home, where a church has been since built in honor of the martyr; and thus the saint’s promise of furnishing the priest with relics was made good.

This account was drawn up by Nilus, who had lived with the martyr, had been his fellow-prisoner, and was an eye-witness of what he relates.

MAY 18 — ST. VENANTIUS, MARTYR

He made a glorious confession of his faith, and after suffering many torments was beheaded in the persecution of Decius in 250, at Camerino, a city near the Marquisate of Ancona in Italy; of which place he was a native. His body is kept with singular veneration in that city. Pope Clement X., who had been bishop of Camerino, had a particular devotion to this martyr, who suffered very young. See the Bollandists.

MAY 18 — ST. POTAMON, MARTYR

He was bishop of Heraclea in Egypt. St. Athanasius says he was doubly a martyr, under the heathens and under the Arians. When Maximinus Daia, or Daza, persecuted the Christians in 310, he gloriously confessed the faith, for which one of his eyes was bored out, and probably the sinews of one ham were cut, as in St. Paphnutius and others. The marks of his sufferings rendered him conspicuous in the council of Nice in 325, in which be exerted his zeal against the Arians. He accompanied and defended St. Athanasius in the council of Tyre in 335, as was related in the life of that saint on the 2d of May. When the tyrant Gregory had usurped the patriarchal chair of St. Athanasius, he, with Philagrius, prefect of Egypt, an apostate to Arianism under Constantius, travelled over all Egypt tormenting and banishing the Catholics; and St. Potamon, for his distinguished zeal, was by their order beaten on his back with clubs so long as to be left for dead. However, by the help of medicines, he came to himself, but died shortly after a martyr for the divinity of the Son of God in 341, as St. Athanasius relates. See St. Athanasius, Ep. ad. Solit. et Apolog. Rufin. 2, c. 4: St. Epiph. Hær. 68.

MAY 19 — ST. PETER CELESTINE, POPE, C

From his two most authentic lives in Papebroke, t. 4, Maij, p. 419; also Bzovius and other continuators of Baronius. See likewise his life written by James, cardinal of St. George about the year 1295, in Muratori’s Scriptor. Ital t. 3, p. 513.

A. D. 1296.

HUMILITY raised this saint above the world, and preserved his soul free from its poison, both amidst its flatteries and under its frowns. He was born in Apulia about the year 1221. His parents were very virtuous, and charitable to the poor to the uttermost of their abilities. After his father’s death, his mother, though she had eleven other sons, seeing his extraordinary inclination to piety, provided him with a literary education. His progress gave his friends great expectations; but he always considered that he had only one affair in this world, and that an affair of infinite importance, the salvation of his soul: that no security can be too great where an eternity is at stake: moreover, that the way to life is strait, the account which we are to give of all our actions and thoughts most rigorous, the judge infinitely just, and the issue either sovereign happiness or sovereign misery. He therefore made the means, by which he might best secure to himself that bliss for which alone he was created, his constant study. An eremitical state is only the vocation of souls, which are already perfect in the exercises of penance and contemplation. Peter had made the practice of both familiar to him from his tender years; and by a long noviceship was qualified for such a state, to which he found himself strongly inclined. Therefore at twenty years of age he left the schools, and retired to a solitary mountain, where he made himself a little cell under ground, but so small that he could scarce stand or lie down in it. Here he lived three years in great austerities, during which he was often assailed by violent temptations; but these he overcame by the help of such practices and austerities as the grace of God suggested to him. Notwithstanding the care he took to sequester himself from the world, he was discovered, and some time after compelled to enter into holy orders. He was ordained priest at Rome; but in 1246 returned into Abruzzo, and lived five years in a cave on mount Morrom, near Sulmona. He received great favors from heaven, the usual recompense of contemplative souls who have crucified I their affections to this world: but then they are purchased through severe interior trials; and with such Peter was frequently visited. He was also molested with nocturnal illusions during his sleep, by which he was almost driven to despair, insomuch that he durst not say mass, and once determined to abandon his solitude; but was encouraged by the advice of a religious man, his confessor, who assured him that it was no more than a stratagem of the enemy, by which he could not be hurt if he despised it. For further satisfaction, he determined to go to Rome to consult the pope on that subject, and received great comfort by a vision he was favored with on the road; a certain holy abbot lately deceased appearing to him, who gave him the same counsel, and ordered him to return to his cell and offer every day the holy sacrifice, which he accordingly did. The wood on his mountain being cut down in 1251, he with two companions removed to mount Magella. There, with the boughs of trees and thorns, these three servants of God made themselves a little enclosure and cells, in which they enjoyed more solid pleasure than the great ones of the world can find in their stately palaces and gardens. The devil sometimes endeavored to disturb them; but they triumphed over his assaults. Many others were desirous to put themselves under his direction; but the saint alleged his incapacity to direct others. However, his humility was at length overcome, and he admitted those who seemed the most fervent.

Peter spent always the greatest part of the night in prayer and tears which he did not interrupt, while he was employed in the day in corporal labor or in copying books. His body he always treated as a most dangerous domestic enemy. He never ate flesh; he fasted every day except Sunday. He kept four lents in the year, during three of which, and on all Fridays, he took nothing but bread and water, unless it were a few cabbage leaves in lieu of bread. The bread which he used was so hard, that it could only be chopped in pieces. His austerities were excessive, till he was admonished in a vision not to destroy that body which his duty to God required him to support. If the Holy Ghost sometimes conducted the saints by extraordinary paths, we must learn from their fervor the condemnation of our sloth, who dare undertake nothing for the sake of virtue, and who shrink often under indispensable duties. St. Peter wore a shirt of horse-hair full of knots, and a chain of iron about his waist. He lay on the ground, or on a board, with a stone or log of wood for a pillow. It was his chiefest care always to nourish his soul with heavenly contemplation and prayer; yet he did not refuse to others the comfort of his spiritual succors. He gave advice, except on Wednesdays and Fridays, and during his lents, which he passed in inviolable silence. Finding his solitude too much disturbed, he went with some of his disciples to a cavern which was almost inaccessible on the top of mount Magella. This did but increase the ardor of others to pursue him. Wherefore he returned to mount Morroni, where many lived in scattered cells under his direction, till he assembled them in a monastery; and in 1274 obtained of pope Gregory X. the approbation of his religious order, under the rule of St. Bennet, which he restored to its primitive severity. The saint lived to see thirty-six monasteries, and six hundred monks and nuns; and this institute has been since propagated over all Europe, but is at present much mitigated.

Upon the death of Nicholas IV. the see of Rome continued vacant two years and three months, when the cardinals assembled at Perugia unanimously chose our saint for his successor, out of pure regard for his eminent sanctity. This election, on account of its disinterestedness, met with a general applause, and the saint seemed the only person afflicted on the occasion. He was indeed alarmed beyond measure at the news; and finding all the reasons he could allege for his declining the charge ineffectual, betook himself to flight in company with Robert, one of his monks, but was intercepted. He would gladly have engaged Robert still to attend him, but the good monk excused himself by an answer worthy of a disciple of the saint: “Compel me not,” says he, “to throw myself upon your thorns. I am the companion of your flight, not of your exaltation.” Peter thereupon dropped his request, and sighing before God, returned to Morroni, where the kings of Hungary and Naples, besides many cardinals and princes, waited for him. Thence he proceeded to the neighboring cathedral of Aquila, to be ordained bishop of Rome, being accompanied by the two kings, and an incredible number of princes and others; yet could not be prevailed upon to travel any other way than riding on an ass: he even thought it a great deal that he did not go on foot, as he desired to do. He was consecrated and crowned at Aquila on the 29th of August, taking the name of Celestine V., from an allusion to the Latin name of heaven, where he always dwelt in his heart: his monks have been distinguished by the name of Celestines ever since. Charles, king of Naples, persuaded him to go with him to his capital, to regulate certain ecclesiastical affairs of that kingdom, and to fill the vacant benefices. The new pope disgusted many of the cardinals by employing strangers in the conducting matters, the care of which had been usually intrusted to them. He was sometimes led by others into mistakes, which gave occasion to complaints, and increased his own scruples for having taken upon him so great a charge, to which he found himself unequal; especially on account of his want of experience in the world, and his not having studied the canon law. He continued his former austerities, and built himself a cell of boards in the midst of his palace, where he lived in solitude amidst the crowds which surrounded him, humble on the pinnacle of honor, and poor in the midst of riches. He shut himself up to spend the Advent in retirement, that he might prepare himself for Christmas, having committed the care of the church to three cardinals. This again was an occasion of fresh scruples, when he reflected that a pastor is bound himself to a personal attendance on the duties of his charge. These fears of conscience, the weight of his dignity, which he felt every day more and more insupportable, and the desire of enjoying himself in solitude, moved him at length to deliberate whether he might not resign his dignity. He consulted cardinal Benedict Cajetan, a person the best skilled in the canon law, and others, who agreed in their advice, that it was in the power of a pope to abdicate. When this became public, many vigorously opposed the motion; but no solicitations or motives could make the holy man alter his resolution. Wherefore, some days after, he held at Naples a consistory of the cardinals, at which the king of Naples and many others were present: before them he read the solemn act of his abdication, then laid aside his pontifical robes and ornaments, put on his religious habit, came down from his throne, and cast himself at the feet of the assembly, begging pardon for his faults, and exhorting the cardinals to repair them in the best manner they were able, by choosing a worthy successor to St. Peter. Thus, having sat in the chair four months, he abdicated the supreme dignity in the church, on the 13th of December, 1294, with greater joy than the most ambitious man could mount the throne of the richest empire in the world. This the cheerfulness of his countenance evidenced, no less than his words. Cardinal Benedict Cajetan, the ablest civilian and canonist of his age, was chosen in his place, and crowned at Rome on the 16th of January following.

Men, as it usually happens on such occasions, were divided in their sentiments with regard to this extraordinary action, of which we see a specimen in the writings of those great men who in that age began to restore at Florence the true taste of polite literature. Dante, who has stained his reputation with many blots in his moral and civil conduct, and his works with many falsities and unjust prepossessions, ascribes this cession of Celestine to pusillanimity. But this base censure is justly chastised by his country man Petrarch, who passed his unjust and glorious banishment at Vaucluse near Avignon, respected by the whole world, till he was courted by his fellow-citizens to honor his native country again with his presence, though he preferred to it a retirement to Padua.* This great man, speaking of the abdication of our holy pope, says: “This action I call a sublime and heavenly fortitude, which he only possesses who knows the emptiness of all worldly dignities. The contempt of honors arises from a heroic courage, not from a want of that virtue; as the desire of them shows that a soul raiseth not herself above herself.”

St. Celestine immediately stole away privately to his monastery of the Holy Ghost, at Morroni. But several who were offended at some acts of justice and necessary severity in the new pope, raised various reports, as if he had by ambition and fraud supplanted Celestine: others advanced that a pope could not resign his dignity. Boniface, moreover, was alarmed at the multitudes which resorted to Morroni to see Celestine, on account of the great reputation of his sanctity; and fearing he might be made a handle of by designing men, the consequence whereof might be some disturbance in the church, he entreated the king of Naples to send him to Rome. The saint, seeing that he could not be permitted to return to his cell, betook himself to flight, and put to sea, with a view to cross the Adriatic gulf; but was driven back by contrary winds into the harbor of Vieste, where he was secured by the governor, pursuant to an order of the king of Naples, and conducted to pope Boniface at Anagni. Boniface kept him some time in his own palace, often discoursing with him, that he might discover if he had ever consented to those that called his abdication null and invalid. The saint’s unfeigned simplicity bearing evidence to the contrary, many advised the pope to set him at liberty, and send him to his monastery. But Boniface, alleging the danger of tumults and of a schism, confined him in the citadel of Fumone, nine miles from Anagni, under a guard of soldiers. The authors of the life of the saint say, that he there suffered many insults and hardships, which yet never drew from his mouth the least word of complaint. On the contrary, he sent word to Boniface, by two cardinals who came to see him, that he was content with his condition, and desired no other. He used to say, with wonderful tranquillity: “I desired nothing in the world but a cell; and a cell they have given me.” He sang the divine praises almost without interruption, with two of his monks who were assigned him for his companions. On Whit-Sunday, in 1296, after he had heard mass with extraordinary fervor, he told his guards that he should die before the end of the week. He immediately sickened of a fever, and received extreme unction. Even in that dying condition he would never suffer a little straw to be strewed on the hard boards upon which he always lay, and prayed without interruption. On Saturday, the 19th of May, finishing the last psalm of lauds at those words, Let every spirit praise the Lord, he calmly closed his eyes to this world, and his soul passed to the company of the angels, he being seventy-five years old. During his ten months’ imprisonment he never abated any thing of his ordinary austerities. Pope Boniface, with all the cardinals, performed his funeral obsequies at St. Peter’s. His body was sumptuously buried at Ferentino; but was afterwards translated to Aquila, and is kept in the church of the Celestines near that city. Many miracles are authentically recorded of him, and he was canonized by Clement V., in 1313. Boniface fell into great calamities. Philip the Fair, king of France, who was his declared enemy, sent a body of troops, under the command of William Noggret, to support the conspiracy of Stephen and Chiarra Colonna against him, by whom he was made prisoner at Anagni. After much ill-treatment, he was rescued out of their hands by the Ursini from Rome; but died soon after of grief, in 1303.

A spirit of retirement, or a love of holy solitude and its exercises, and an habitual interior recollection, are essential to piety and a true Christian life. Some, by a particular call of God, dedicate themselves to his service in a state of perfect solitude, in which the first motive may be self-defence of preservation. In the world, snares are laid everywhere for us, and its lusts often endeavor to court and betray us, and the torrent of its example, or the violence of its persecutions, to drive and force us into death. Whoever, therefore, prudently fears that he is not a match for so potent an enemy, may, nay sometimes ought, to retire from the world. This is not to decline the service of God or man, but sin and danger: it is not to prefer ease and security before industry and labor, but before a rash presumption and a fatal overthrow. But entire solitude is a safer state only to those who are animated with such a love and esteem for all its exercises as give an assurance of their constant fervor in them; also who seriously cultivate interior solitude of mind, and will never suffer it to gad abroad after the objects of worldly affairs, vanities, or pleasures: lastly, whose souls are free from envy, emulation, ambition, desire of esteem, and all other busy and turbulent passions, which cannot fail by desires and hankerings to discompose the mind, and muddy the pure stream, and adulterate the relish of a retired life. The soul must be reduced to its native purity and simplicity, before it will be able to taste the blessings of true liberty, of regular devotion, and elevated meditation.

Secondly: An indication that God designs certain persons for retirement, is the discovery of talents fitted for this state rather than for any public station. For there are active and contemplative gifts. Those who are destined by heaven to a retired life, in it become most eminently serviceable to the world, by proving excellent examples of innocence, and the perfect spirit of every Christian virtue, and by their prayers and continual pure homages of praise and thanksgivings to God, from which others may reap far more valuable benefits than from the labors of the learned or the bountiful alms of the rich. Thus the world never loses a member, but enjoys its service in its proper place, and the most effectual manner, says an ingenious Protestant writer; who adds, that such a one retires not from the world to avoid its service, but its fooleries.

Thirdly: The same author observes, that the main end of retirement ought always to be to dedicate ourselves entirely to God by the exercises of compunction and holy contemplation. This may be easily demonstrated both from reason and religion, and from the examples of so many illustrious saints. Retirement is recommended by particular motives to persons who, after going through the station of a public life, are at liberty to embrace it in order to fit themselves for eternity.

MAY 19 — ST. PUDENTIANA, V

She was sister of St. Praxedes, and daughter of Pudens, a Roman senator, who was converted to the faith by the apostles SS. Peter and Paul. Her festival is mentioned in the Sacramentary of St. Gregory. Her church in Rome is esteemed the most ancient that is known in the world. It was in the first ages called the church of the Pastor, and is said to have been the palace of Pudens, in which St. Peter lodged and celebrated the divine mysteries. See the Bollandists, and Tillem. t. 2.

MAY 19 — ST. DUNSTAN, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, C

He was a native of the town of Glastenbury, of noble birth, and received his education under certain Irish monks who were excellent masters of the sciences, and at that time resided at Glastenbury, which the wars had left in a most ruinous condition. Dunstan outstripped his companions in every branch of literature which he thought worth his attention, and through the recommendation of Athelmus, archbishop of Canterbury, his uncle, with whom he had lived some time, was called to the court of the great king Athelstan, a lover of virtue and learned men. He enjoyed the favor of that prince above all the rest who had the honor to approach his person, till envy made him feel the usual instability of the fortune of courtiers. Dunstan had in his youth received the clerical tonsure and the lesser orders, and from his cradle been fervent in practising every means of virtue, especially of modesty, purity, and humility. After he left the court he took the monastic habit, being advised thereto by Elphegus the Bald, bishop of Winchester, also his uncle, who not long after ordained him priest. When he was well grounded in the knowledge and practice of the duties of his profession, the bishop, on giving him proper instructions for his conduct, sent him to Glastenbury, with the view of serving that church. Here he built for himself a small cell, five feet long, and two and a half broad, with an oratory adjoining to the wall of the great church, which was dedicated under the invocation of the Mother of God. In this hermitage he spent his time in prayer and fasting. He had also his hours for manual labor, which is a part of penance, and necessary to shun idleness. His labor consisted in making crosses, vials, censers, and sacred vestments; he likewise painted and copied good books. King Athelstan dying after a glorious reign of sixteen years, the throne was filled by his brother Edmund, who succeeded to the crown in 900. His palace of Chedder was but nine miles from Glastenbury, to which church he often resorted with singular devotion, and having been long acquainted with the sanctity of St. Dunstan, he installed him the nineteenth abbot of that house from St. Brithwald, who was the first Englishman who had governed it, two hundred and seventy years before.* King Edmund had reigned only six years and a half, when he was treacherously murdered, and buried at Glastenbury. His sons Edwi and Edgar being too young to govern, his brother Edred was called to the crown, who did nothing but by the advice of St. Dunstan. He ended his pious life in 955, and was succeeded by his nephew Edwi, a most debauched and profligate youth, who, on the very day on which he was anointed king, left his nobles at the royal banquet to go to see his harlot and impious flatterers. St. Dunstan followed him, and endeavored by a severe check to put him in mind of the duty which he owed to God and men. In requital, the tyrant banished him, persecuted all the monks in his kingdom, and ruined all the abbeys which had escaped the devastation of the Danes, except Glastenbury and Abingdon.

St. Dunstan spent one year in exile in Flanders, and, according to Osbern, at St. Peter’s at Ghent, where his vestment is still shown; but, according to John of Glastenbury, at St. Amand’s, the tradition and monuments of both places show, that he divided the year betwixt them. He filled all Flanders with the odor of his sanctity, and the example of his virtues; but the Mercians and northern provinces shaking off the yoke of the tyrant Edwi, placed the crown on Edgar, who immediately recalled St. Dunstan, made him his principal counsellor, and in 957 preferred him to the bishopric of Worcester, to which he was consecrated by St. Odo, archbishop of Canterbury. The see of London becoming vacant shortly after, he was compelled at the same time also to govern that diocese, notwithstanding his opposition, the public disorders requiring so strenuous a reformer of discipline and manners. King Edwi having reigned over all England one year, and over the southern part four years, ended a wicked life by an unhappy death in 959, when Edgar became sole monarch of the English nation, which he governed with the greatest courage, prudence, and glory. In 961 St. Dunstan was raised to the metropolitan see of Canterbury, though he used every device possible to decline that dignity. He was moreover appointed by the pope, John XII., legate of the holy see. Being vested with this authority, he set himself about re-establishing everywhere ecclesiastical discipline, which had been much impaired by the confusion of the Danish invasions, and the tyranny of king Edwi; in which he was powerfully protected by King Edgar, and assisted by his two disciples, St. Ethelwold, bishop of Winchester, and St. Oswald, bishop of Worcester and archbishop of York, These three prelates restored most of the great monasteries in England. To establish in them a uniform and perfect regular discipline, St. Dunstan compiled the Concord of Rules, extant in Reynet and Spelman, in which he incorporates several old monastic customs with the rule of St. Bennet. The reformation of the clergy was no less the object of his zeal. For their use he drew up excellent regulations, which may be seen in Spelman1 under this title: Canons published under King Edgar Several among the secular clergy were, through the disorder of the times, fallen into so open a violation of the canons as to presume to marry. These St. Dunstan expelled from the churches and monasteries into which they had intruded themselves, and brought in monks in their place who had been in possession of divers of them before the Danish devastations. At Winchester, when St. Ethelwold had ejected the secular canons for incontinency, and placed monks in his cathedral, the former appealed from his proceedings. A synod therefore was held at Winchester in 968. In this venerable assembly was heard a voice as coming from a crucifix in the place, which said distinctly, “God forbid it should be so. You have judged well: to change your decree is not good.” Upon which the synod confirmed what St. Ethelwold had done, and king Edward the martyr made this decree a law of the state.

St. Dunstan was no less vigorous in maintaining discipline among the laity, in which no motives of human respect were ever able to daunt him, or to damp his zeal. King Edgar had the misfortune to fall into a scandalous crime, by deflouring a virgin who had been educated in the monastery of Wilton, and who, to elude his pursuits, had put on a religious veil, but had not made any profession or vows. St. Dunstan, being informed of this scandal, went in haste to the court, and like another Nathan reproved the king in a zealous, but respectful manner. The prince, struck with remorse, begged with many tears that a suitable penance might be enjoined him, and became a faithful imitator of the perfect royal penitent David. The archbishop enjoined him a penance for seven years; during which term he was never to wear his crown, was ordered to fast twice a week, and to give large alms. Another part of his penance was to found a nunnery, in which many holy virgins might consecrate themselves chaste spouses to Christ, in satisfaction for his crime in having violated a virgin. These conditions the king faithfully performed, and founded a rich monastery of nuns at Shaftsbury. The term of his penance being elapsed in 973, St. Dunstan, in a public assembly of the lords and prelates, set the crown again upon his head. This great king ruled sixteen years, and dying in the thirty-second year of his age, left the kingdom to his eldest son, Edward the martyr. The death of that pious young prince was a grievous affliction to St. Dunstan, who, when he crowned his younger brother, in 979, foretold the weakness and the dreadful calamities of his reign. The Welsh bishops had always been governed by the archbishop of Saint David’s till about the year 983, when we find Gacon consecrated bishop of Landaff by Saint Dunstan; from which time the see of Saint David’s lost its metropolitical jurisdiction.

St. Dunstan frequently visited the churches over the whole kingdom, everywhere preaching and instructing the faithful with great zeal. Such was the dignity and the eloquence with which he delivered the word of God, that few were so hardened as to withstand the power of his exhortations. He employed his revenues in relieving the poor ho reconciled differences, refuted errors, and labored incessantly in extirpating vices and abuses. But neither the care of his church, nor the attendance he was obliged often to give to the state, made him ever forget to find time for holy prayer and retirement; and after the occupations of the day, he watched late at night in the private communications of his soul with God. Glastenbury was his dearest solitude, and thither he would often retire from the world to devote himself entirely to heavenly contemplation. At Canterbury it was always his custom to visit in the night, even in the coldest weather, the church of St. Austin without the walls, and that of the blessed Virgin adjoining to it. Finding himself taken ill in that city, he prepared himself for his last hour by redoubling his fervor in all his practices of penance and devotion. On the feast of the ascension of our Lord, he preached thrice on that triumphant mystery, exhorting all to follow our Redeemer and Head in spirit and desire. While he spoke, his countenance, like that of Moses coming down from the mount, seemed to shine and dart forth rays of light. In the close of his last discourse, he begged the prayers of his audience, and told his flock that God called him from them. At which words all that heard him were filled with inexpressible grief. In the afternoon he went again to the church, and appointed a place for his burial; then he took to his bed, and on the Saturday following, the 19th of May, having received the viaticum, he calmly expired; closing his corporal eyes to the world, and at the same instant opening those of his soul to behold God with his angels in glory. His death happened the 19th of May, 988, the sixty-fourth year of his age, and the twenty-seventh of his archiepiscopal dignity. He was buried in his own cathedral, in the place he had appointed. John of Glastenbury relates that his bones were translated to Glastenbury in 1012, two years after the martyrdom of St. Elphege; but this at most could only be true of some portion thereof. For in 1508, archbishop Warham found his relics remaining under his monument, which was then on the south side of the high altar. See his life in Mabillon, (Sæc. Ben. 5, p. 659,) by Osbern, precentor of Canterbury in 1070, and that by Eadmer, in 1121; in Wharton, t. 1, p. 211. See also John of Glastenbury, in his history of that abbey, published by Mr. Hearne, t. 1, p. 115, ad p. 147, likewise Henschenius, t. 4, Maij, p. 344.

MAY 20 — ST. BERNARDIN OF SIENNA, C

From his two lives, written with great exactness by two of his Intimate friends; the one the same year in which he died, by Barnaby of Sienna; the other by Maffei Veggio, soon after his death. See Henschenius, t. 5, Maij, p. 257.

A. D. 1444.

ST. BERNARDIN, a true disciple of St. Francis, and an admirable preacher of the word of God, inflamed with the most ardent love of our divine Redeemer, was made by God an instrument to kindle the same holy fire in innumerable souls, and to inspire them with his spirit of humility and meekness. He was born at Massa in 1380, of the noble family of Albizeschi, in the republic of Sienna. He lost his mother when he was but three years old, and his father, who was chief magistrate of Massa, before he was seven. The care of his education devolved on a virtuous aunt called Diana who infused into his tender soul ardent sentiments of piety towards God and a tender devotion to his blessed Mother. This aunt always loved him as if he had been her own son; and indeed his towardly dispositions won him exceedingly the affections of all who ever had the care of him. He was modest, humble, and devout; and took great delight in prayer, visiting churches, serving at mass, and hearing sermons, which he would repeat again to his companions with an admirable memory and gracefulness of action. In that tender age he had a great compassion for the poor. One day it happened that his aunt sent away a poor person from the door without an alms, because there was but one loaf in the house for the dinner of the family. Bernardin was much troubled to see the beggar go away unrelieved, and said to his aunt, “For God’s sake, let us give something to this poor man; otherwise I will neither dine nor sup this day. I had rather the poor should have a dinner than myself.” This wonderfully comforted his good aunt, who never ceased to incite him to all virtues, and, according to his strength, to accustom himself by degrees to fasting. Young as he was, he fasted every Saturday in honor of the blessed Virgin; which pious custom he always continued. At eleven years of age he was called to Sienna by his uncles, and put to school under the ablest masters, who all admired the quickness of his parts, and the solidity of his judgment; but much more, his docility, modesty, and virtue. If he chanced to hear any word the least unbecoming, he, by blushing, testified what confusion it gave him, and how much it wounded his very heart; and though he was otherwise most condescending, civil, and respectful to all, he could never bear with patience any indecent discourse. For a single word of that kind he so severely reprimanded a man of quality, that it was to him a warning during the remainder of his life to govern his tongue; and many years after, hearing Bernardin preach, he was so moved that he seemed to be drowned in tears. The modesty of the virtuous youth was a check to the most impudent, and kept them in awe in his presence: in whatever company, if the conversation was too free, it was dropped when he appeared, and the very loosest rakes would say, “Hush! here comes Bernardin:” as the presence of Cato among the Romans restrained the lewd libertinism of a festiva1.1 Nor did the saint behave on these occasions in such a manner as might render virtue the subject of ridicule, but with a surprising dignity. Nevertheless, an impure monster had once the insolence to make an attempt upon his virginal purity, and to solicit him to sin. But the saint, not content to testify his scorn and indignation, excited the whole troop of his little innocent playfellows against the lewd villain, who pelted him with clods and stones, and made him ashamed any more to show his face. Bernardin was exceeding comely and beautiful; but his known virtue secured him from any further assaults; and he never ceased to beg of God the grace of purity, particularly through the intercession of the blessed Virgin Mary. When he had completed the course of his philosophy, he applied himself to the study of civil and canon law, and afterwards to that of the holy scriptures, with such ardor that he could never from that time relish any other study.

At seventeen years of age he enrolled himself in the confraternity of our Lady in the hospital of Scala, to serve the sick. Here he began with new vigor to tame his flesh by severe fasts, watchings, hair-shirts, disciplines, and other austerities; but he applied himself more to the interior mortification of his will, which rendered him always most mild, sweet, patient, and affable to everyone. He had served this hospital four years, when, in 1400, a dreadful pestilence which had already made great havoc in several other parts of Italy, and was increased by the concourse of pilgrims to the jubilee, reached Sienna; insomuch that twelve, eighteen, or twenty persons died every day in this hospital; and among others were carried off almost all the priests, apothecaries, and servants, that belonged to the place. Bernardin therefore persuaded twelve young men to bear him company in the service of the hospital, expecting heaven for their speedy recompense; and they all strove which should come up the nearest to Bernardin in cheerfulness, humility, and assiduity in performing the most sacred offices, and in exerting themselves in the service of the sick. The saint was intrusted in a manner with the whole care of the hospital, which, in the space of four months, he put into excellent order. It is hardly credible how many lives he saved, or with what charity and pains he night and day attended the patients, and furnished them with every comfort and succor which it was in his power to afford them. God preserved him from the contagion during these four months, at the end of which the pestilence ceased. He then returned home, but sick of a fever which he had contracted by his fatigues, which obliged him to keep his bed four months; during which time he edified the city, no less by his resignation and patience, than he had done by his charity. He was scarce well recovered when he returned to the like works of charity, and with incredible patience attended a dying aunt for fourteen months, named Bartholomæa, a woman of great piety, who was blind and bedridden. When God had called her to himself, Bernardin retired to a house at some distance from the city, making the walls of his garden the bounds of his enclosure. Here, in solitude, fasting, and prayer, he endeavored to learn the will of God in the choice of a state of life. After some time he took the habit of the order of St. Francis, among the fathers of the Strict Observance at Colombiere, a solitary convent a few miles from Sienna; and after the year of his novitiate, made his profession on the 8th of September, 1404. Having been born on the feast of the Nativity of the blessed Virgin, out of devotion to her, he chose the same day for the principal actions of his life: on it he took the religious habit, made his vows, said his first mass, and preached his first sermon. His fervor increased daily; and while some sought interpretations to mollify the severity of the rule, he was always studying to add to it greater austerities and heroic practices of virtue, the more perfectly to crucify in himself the old man. He was pleased with insults and humiliations, and whatever could be agreeable to the most ardent spirit of humility and self-denial. When he went through the streets in a threadbare short habit, the boys sometimes cast stones at him, with injurious language; in which contempt the saint found a singular joy and satisfaction. He showed the same sentiments when a near kinsman with bitter invectives reproached him, as disgracing his friends by the mean and contemptible manner of life he had embraced. These and all other virtues he learned in the living book of Christ crucified, which he studied night and day, often prostrate before a crucifix, from which he seemed one day to hear our Lord speak thus to him: “My son, behold me hanging upon a cross: if thou lovest me, or art desirous to imitate me, be thou also fastened naked to thy cross, and follow me; thus thou wilt assuredly find me.” In the same school he learned an insatiable zeal for the salvation of souls, redeemed by the blood of Christ. Having in retirement prepared himself for the office of preaching, his superiors ordered him to employ his talent that way for the benefit of others. He labored under a natural impediment from weakness and hoarseness of voice; the removal of which obstacle he obtained by addressing himself to his glorious patroness, the mother of God. For fourteen years his labors were confined to his own country; but when the reputation of his virtue was spread abroad, he shone as a bright light to the whole church.

In vain doth the minister of God confide in the weak resources of mere human eloquence and pomp of words, by which he rather debases the dignity and majesty of the sacred oracles: while he pleases the ear and gains the applause of his audience, he leaves their hearts dry. The great apostle of Andalusia, the venerable holy John D’Avila, being desired to lay down some rules for the art of preaching, answered, he knew no other art than the most ardent love of God and zeal for his honor. He used to say to young clergymen, that one word spoken by a man of prayer would do more good, and have a more powerful influence, than all the most eloquent discourses; for it is only the language of the heart that speaks to the heart; and a life of mortification and prayer not only draws down the dew of the divine benediction upon the labors of the preacher, but it replenishes his soul with a sincere spirit of humility, compunction, and all virtues, and with an experimental knowledge and feeling sense of the great truths which he delivers. Zealous ministers who are filled with the Spirit of God, are a great blessing to the people among whom they labor; and this reflection unfolds the secret how saints possess so extraordinary a grace of converting souls to God. This was the excellent talent of Bernardin. They who heard him preach felt their souls to melt in sentiments of compunction, divine love, humility, and the contempt of the world, and returned home new men, striking their breasts, and bathed in tears. The word of God was in his mouth as a fire, and as a hammer breaking the hardest rocks. Another eminent preacher of his order being asked the reason why his sermons did not produce equal fruit with those of Bernardin, answered, “Brother Bernardin is a fiery glowing coal. What is only warm hath not the power of kindling a fire in others like the burning coal.” The saint himself being consulted what was the way to preach with profit, gave this rule: “In all your actions seek in the first place the kingdom of God and his glory; direct all you do purely to his honor; persevere in brotherly charity, and practise first all that you desire to teach others. By this means the Holy Ghost will he your master, and will give you such wisdom and such a tongue that no adversary will be able to stand against you.”2 This he faithfully practised, and from his assiduous communication with God he imbibed that eminent spirit of virtue which gave him the most powerful ascendant over the hearts of men. Among the great truths of religion, he principally labored to inculcate a sincere contempt of the vanity of the world, and an ardent love of our blessed Redeemer. He wished he could cry out with a trumpet which could be heard over the whole earth, that he might sound aloud in the ears of all men that great oracle of the Holy Ghost: O ye sons of men, how long will you be dull of heart? Why do you love vanity, and seek after lying? O children, how long will you love childishness?3 And he never ceased with the thunder of his voice to raise men from grovelling always on this earth, to the important consideration of the things which belong to their eternal welfare, and to the love of Jesus Christ. So much was he affected with the mysteries of the incarnation and sufferings of the Son of God, that he could never pronounce his sacred name without appearing in transports of love and adoration. Often at the end of his sermon he showed to the people the sacred name of Jesus curiously cut on a board with gold letters, inviting them to adore Christ with him on their knees, reciting a pious doxology. This was misconstrued by some, who also cavilled at certain expressions which he had used. Upon their complaints, pope Martin V. summoned him to appear, and commanded him silence for a while. The humble saint meekly acquiesced without making any reply. But his holiness, after a full examination of his doctrine and conduct, dismissed him with his benediction, high commendations, and ample leave to preach everywhere. The same pope pressed him to accept the bishopric of Sienna in 1427; but he declined that dignity, alleging for his excuse, that if he were confined to one church, he could no longer employ himself in the service of so many souls. In 1431 he no less resolutely refused that of Ferrara, which Eugenius III. earnestly desired to confer upon him, and again that of Urbino, in 1435. When the saint preached first at Milan, the haughty duke Philip Mary Visconti* took offence at certain things which he had said in his sermons, and threatened him with death if he should presume to speak any more on such subjects; but the saint declared, that no greater happiness could befall him than to die for the truth. The duke, to try him, sent him a present of one hundred ducats of gold in a golden bowl. The saint excused himself from receiving the money to two different messengers; but being compelled by a third to accept it, he took the messenger with him to the prisons, and laid it all out in his presence in releasing debtors. This disinterestedness turned the duke’s aversion into the greatest veneration for the saint ever after.

St. Bernardin preached several times through the greatest part of Italy; some say also in Spain; but this seems uncertain. Nothing was more spoken of over all Italy than the wonderful fruit of his sermons, miraculous conversions, restitution of ill-gotten goods, reparations of injuries, and heroic examples of virtue. The factions of the Guelfs and Ghibellins then horribly divided many cities of Italy, and gave frequent employment to the saint. Hearing once of a great dissension at Perugia, he hastened thither from the marquisate of Ancona, and entering the city, thus addressed the inhabitants “God, who is highly offended at this division among you, hath sent me, as his angel, to proclaim peace to men of good will upon earth.” After preaching four sermons to persuade them to a mutual forgiveness of all injuries, and a general amnesty, at the end of the last he bade all those who forgave each other and desired to live in peace, to pass to the right hand. All present did so except one young nobleman, who stayed on the left, muttering some thing between his teeth. The saint, after a severe reproach, foretold him his sudden death, which happened soon after, and without the benefit of the sacraments. In 1433 he accompanied the emperor Sigismund to his coronation at Rome; after which he retired for a short time to Sienna, where he put the finishing hand to his works.†

Amidst the greatest applause and honors, the most sincere humility always appeared in his words and actions; and he ever studied to conceal the talents with which God had enriched him. How great his esteem of humility was, he testified when a brother of his order asked him the means by which he might speedily arrive at perfection. The saint, instead of giving him any answer by words, threw himself at his feet; showing at the same time his own great affection to humility, and also that this virtue raises the soul to divine love and every grace. God, however, was pleased to honor his servant before men. Besides several predictions and miraculous cures of many lepers and other sick persons, the saint is recorded to have raised four dead to life. He was appointed vicar-general of his order of the Strict Observance in Italy, in 1438, in which he settled a rigorous reformation; but, after five years, obtained a discharge from his office; and in his old age continued the function of preaching through Romania, Ferrara, and Lombardy. He returned to Sienna in 1444, preached a most pathetic farewell sermon at Massa on concord and unity, and being taken ill of a malignant fever on the road, still preached as usual till he arrived at Aquila in Abruzzo. There, being confined to his bed, he prepared himself for his passage out of this life by the rites of the church. When he was speechless, he made a sign to be taken off his bed and laid upon the floor; where, lifting up his eyes to heaven, he surrendered his pure soul into the hands of his Creator on the 20th of May, 1444, after a life of sixty-three years, eight months, and thirteen days. His tomb was rendered illustrious by many miracles, and he was canonized by Nicholas V. in 1450. His body is kept in a crystal shrine, enclosed in one of silver, in the church of his order at Aquila.

MAY 20 — ST. ETHELBERT, KING OF THE EAST-ANGLES, M

In his childhood, after the hours of his studies, he stole away from his schoolfellows when they went to play, and spent most of the time allotted to recreation in prayer. He succeeded young his father Ethelred in his kingdom, which he ruled forty-four years, according to the maxims of a perfect saint. It was his usual saying, that the higher a station is in which a man is placed, the more humble and benevolent he ought to be. And this was the rule of his own conduct. To secure the tranquillity of his kingdom by an heir, he was persuaded to marry; and having heard much of the virtue of Alfreda the daughter of Offa, the powerful king of the Mercians, he thought of making her his royal consort. In this design he paid a visit to that king, who resided at Sutton-Wallis, on the river Lugg, four miles from the place where Hereford now stands. He was courteously entertained, but after some days, treacherously murdered by Grimbert, an officer of king Offa, through the contrivance of queen Quendreda, that his kingdom might be added to their own. This happened in 793. He was privately buried at Maurdine or Marden; but his body being glorified by miracles, it was soon after removed to a fair church at Fernley, that is, Heath of Fern, now called Hereford; which town had its rise from this church, which bore the name of St. Ethelbert when Wilfrid king of Mercia much enlarged and enriched the same. Quendreda died miserably within three months after her crime. Her daughter Alfreda devoted herself to God, and led a penitential solitary life at Croyland, amidst the fens Offa endeavored to atone for the sin of his queen by a pilgrimage to Rome, where he founded a school for the English after the example of king Ina, who had erected one in that city in 726, when he established the Peter-pence among the West-Saxons, which Offa on this occasion extended to the Mercians in 794. Egfrid, the only son of Offa, died after a reign of some months, and the Mercian crown was translated into another family of the posterity of Penda. How sharp are the thorns of ambition! whereas virtue finds its peace and crown whether in adversity or in prosperity. See Harpsfield, Malmesbury, and Leland, Itiner. t. 8, p. 56, who quotes the Life of St. Ethelbert written by Giraldus Cambrensis; also by Osbert de Claro.

MAY 20 — B. YVO, BISHOP OF CHARTRES, C

The order of Regular Canons of St. Austin gave to the church a bright light in the person of this holy and leaned prelate, one of the greatest ornaments of the eleventh age. Yvo was of an illustrious family, and born in the territory of Beauvais. His first studies of grammar and philosophy he performed in his own country, in which, by carefully cultivating a rich genius, he made great progress. Holy meditation and prayer were at the same time his favorite daily exercises, and accompanied with the love of silence, recollection, humility, and great abstemiousness. A constant attention to the divine presence was a practice which he had always much at heart, this being the method by which he happily consecrated all his time, studies, and even necessary recreation to God. For it was his constant endeavor to make all his employments and actions serve this end, to promote the sanctification of his soul and advance the glory of God. In all he did he had this only aim. This manner of life he continued in the monastery of Bec, in which he studied theology under the celebrated Lanfranc. Guy, bishop of Beauvais, having founded a monastery of Regular Canons of St. Austin’s order near that city, under the patronage of St. Quintin, in 1078, Yvo took there the clerical habit, bestowed on that house a part of his estates, and was employed in teaching theology and expounding the canons and holy scriptures. Some time after he was chosen superior, under the title of provost or abbot, and governed that community about fourteen years. He was careful in the firs place to give his scholars a great ardor for the practice of devout prayer, frequently repeating this great maxim which students who desire to become truly disciples of Christ ought always to have deeply imprinted in their minds, that “A spirit of prayer and interior compunction give more of that divine science which contributes to the sanctification of souls than studies,” to use the words of the devout Richard of St. Victor.1 The discipline of this order was at that time very austere. The pious F. Simon Gourdan has demonstrated2 that these canons never ate either flesh or fish, and observed almost perpetual silence unless duties of charity obliged them to speak. Compunction and prayer were their first and principal employment, though they also applied themselves to the instruction of the people and the study of sacred sciences. And so perfect was their obedience to their diocesans or bishops,3 that it may be justly proposed as a model for imitation. The monastery of Saint Quintin’s was raised to such a pitch of reputation for discipline, piety, and learning, under the government of St. Yvo, that to satisfy the demands of bishops and princes from all sides, he was obliged to send many of his canons to other places, either to reform ancient chapters or to found new ones.

Geoffrey, bishop of Chartres, being accused of simony, and other crimes, and deposed by pope Urban II., in 1091, the clergy and people demanded Yvo for their bishop. This election was confirmed by the pope, and king Philip gave him the investiture by putting a crosier into his hand. Yvo set out immediately for Rome, and was consecrated by the pope, who checked the endeavors of Richer, archbishop of Sens, then metropolitan of Chartres, to re-establish Geoffrey. King Philip falling in love with Bertrade, third wife of Fulk, count of Anjou, resolved to marry her, and to divorce his queen Berta, though he had by her two children. Yvo was invited by the king, with other prelates, to a conference on that subject. He strenuously endeavored to divert the prince from so scandalous a project; and when he found all he could say or do to prevent it was to no purpose, he refused to be present at the marriage. Philip caused him to be imprisoned, and sent his officers to plunder his lands. He was, however, released some time after, upon the remonstrances made to the king by the pope and several prelates of the kingdom. During his custody, he prevented a sedition being raised against the king by the principal noblemen of his diocese,4 and he concealed for a long time the letters of the pope against that prince’s adulterous marriage,5 lest the malecontents should make them a pretence for taking up arms against him. For the same reason, he for a considerable time did not publish the sentence of excommunication which the pope had fulminated against the king. But he assisted with joy at the council which Richard, the legate of the holy see, held at Baugenci, in 1104, for that prince’s absolution.6 Philip dying the year following, his son Lewis, to prevent seditions, was consecrated at Orleans by Daimbert, archbishop of Sens. Yvo, by a circular letter,* answered the complaints made by the archbishop of Rheims.7 St. Yvo died on the 23d of December, in 1115, having governed his see twenty-three years. Pope Pius V., in 1570, granted an office in his honor to the whole order of Regular Canons on the 20th of May; and his name is commemorated on this day in the Martyrology of that order confirmed by Benedict XIV. His festival is kept in the diocese of Chartres; and the large shrine in which his sacred remains are exposed to public veneration, is shown in the rich treasury belonging to the stately cathedral. See St. Yvo’s letters and his life, compiled by F. Fronteau, the learned Genevevan Regular Canon, and prefixed to his works. The Bollandists have inserted the same in their great work with remarks. Fabricius also published it among the Opuscula of F. Fronteau at Hamburgh, in 1720, reprinted at Verona in 1733. See also Ceillier, t. 21, p. 423, and Hist. Littér, de la France, t. 10 and 11.

MAY 21 — ST. FELIX OF CANTALICIO, C

From he acts of his beatification, and from his life written by F. John Baptist of Perugia. See Papebroke ad 18 Maij, t. 4, p. 203.

A. D. 1587.

ST. FELIX was born of poor but virtuous parents, at Cantalicio, near Citta Ducale, in the Ecclesiastical State, in 1513. For his extraordinary piety, he was from his infancy surnamed the Saint. At the time when in his childhood he kept cattle, and when afterwards he followed tillage and husbandry work, he was careful to sanctify his labor by a perfect spirit of penance. And he accompanied all his actions with devout prayer, so as even then to lead the life rather of a hermit than of a country laborer. He watched during part of the night in holy meditation, and to his painful life he added the austerity of rigorous abstinence and fasting. He contrived, without prejudice to his work, every day to hear mass, and he declined the ordinary amusements of those of his age. Oft in the fields, when he had driven his cattle into some solitary pasture, he would pray for several hours together, at the foot of some tree, before a cross which with his knife he had cut in the bark. At twelve years of age his father put him out to service, in quality first of shepherd, and afterwards of husbandman, in the family of Mark Tully Pichi, a virtuous gentleman who lived at Citta Ducale. In his tender years, before the faculties of his mind were sufficiently opened to qualify him for deep reflection and long meditation, his prayer chiefly consisted of the Our Father, Hail Mary, Creed, and Glory be to the Father, &c., especially of certain petitions of the Lord’s Prayer, which he seemed almost never to cease repeating in the fields with wonderful devotion. He was yet young, when he learned to habituate himself to the practice of holy meditation during his labor, and he soon attained to the perfection of heavenly contemplation, whereby the fire of divine affections is readily kindled in the heart by the least thought on God, as touchwood catches the flame; whereas holy meditation calls in the succor of reasoning drawn from the truths of faith, to excite ardent affections of virtue in the soul. It is a mistake to imagine that this exercise requires learning or sublime thoughts. Pious meditation is not a dry philosophical speculation. It chiefly consists in the affections of the will, and in profound sentiments of adoration, praise, compunction, humility, and other virtues. To be capable of this exercise, it is enough that a person has an understanding to know God, and a heart capable of feeling the power of his love. The most ignorant man can repeat often to God that he desires earnestly to love him, and always to glorify his holy name; he can bewail his ingratitude and sins, confess his weakness, and implore the divine pity and succor. To do this well, the most essential dispositions are humility and simplicity of heart; and to this holy art there is no greater enemy than that worldly science which swells the mind with secret self-sufficiency and pride. Even in a religious house this gift may be often denied to many who are distinguished by their learning or dignities,1 while an illiterate, fervent lay-brother, who by perfect humility, obedience, and self-denial, has crucified in his heart all self-love and inordinate attachments to creatures, finds wings continually to soar to God by high contemplation. Even in the world, our saint, while he followed the plough, attained this gift. The tractableness and instinct of the beasts, the painfulness of his labor, the barrenness of the earth accursed by sin, the vanity of the world, the blindness of sinners, the sight of the heavens, the obedience of all nature, the beauty of the verdant fields, the watered lawns, and hanging forests—every object served to raise his heart to the praise of his Creator, or excite him to deplore in his sight his own spiritual miseries, and his distance from Him. In God, in himself, and in all creatures round about him, he found a perpetual fund of pious thoughts and affections; but the sufferings of our divine Redeemer were the most tender object of his devotions; and he was never weary in contemplating that great mystery, nor in paying to his loving Saviour the homages of adoration, love, and thanksgiving, renewing always the most perfect dedication of himself to his service. He was most humble, charitable, meek, and always cheerful. He spoke little, shunned the company of those whose conduct appeared irregular, abhorred all murmurs, complaints, and impatience. No injury or insult could provoke him to anger; and if any one reviled him, he was wont to say, with an engaging sweetness: “I pray God you may become a saint.” The servant of God found all the means of perfect sanctification in his condition in the world; but God was pleased, for his greater advancement, to call him to a penitential religious state; to which grace two accidents contributed to dispose him. As he was one day driving the plough, at the sight of his master, who came up dressed in black, the young oxen started, and dragged the plough over his body; yet he received no hurt. Gratitude for this merciful deliverance inspired him with an ardent desire of consecrating himself to the divine service. And by hearing soon after the lives of some of the ancient fathers of the desert read at his master’s house, he became extremely desirous to imitate them.

The state of a lay-brother among the Capuchin friars seemed to him best to suit his design. He therefore petitioned for the habit, and was admitted to it at Citta Ducale. The guardian, when he gave him the habit, showed him a crucifix, explaining to him what our Saviour had suffered for us, and in what manner we ought to imitate him, by a life of humiliation and self-denial. At that moving sight, Felix burst into a flood of tears, and felt in his breast a vehement desire of bearing in himself, by the mortification of the flesh, the image of the sufferings of that Man-God, by which he might resemble his crucified master, and subdue in himself the old man. He performed his novitiate at Anticoli, and appeared already filled with the perfect spirit of his order, especially with a sincere love of poverty, humiliations, and the cross. He often cast himself at the feet of his master of novices, earnestly begging him to double his penances and mortifications, and to treat him with greater harshness and severity than the rest, who, he said, were more docile, and naturally more inclined to virtue. By this holy hatred and contempt of himself, he laid the foundation of so eminent a degree of sanctity that his fellow-religious usually called him the Saint. He was thirty years of age when he made his solemn vows, in 1545; four years after which he was settled in the convent of his order in Rome, and appointed questor, whose office it is to collect the daily alms for the subsistence of the community. This office requires a person of eminent virtue and prudence, and already perfect in the spirit of his order, who may be able to resist that of the world, which is that of covetousness and dissipation, capitally contrary to his strictest obligations.* But the frequent occasions of humiliation, contempt, and suffering which attended this action, afford occasions for the exercise of penance, humility, patience, meekness, and other virtues. In this circumstance Felix thought himself most happy for no ambitious man is more greedy of honors than Felix appeared to be of contempt, which, out of sincere humility, he looked upon as his due. His recollection suffered no interruption. He never spoke unless obliged by necessity, and then in very few words, and with an edifying prudence and humility. He walked with his eyes east down, but his heart was always raised to God by prayer. No objects seemed to turn his mind from heavenly things, because he restrained his eyes from curiosity or vanity, and considered God and his will in every thing. He was much delighted with acts of praise, adoration, and thanksgiving; and he often repeated to others the words Deo gratias, inviting them to join with him in thanking God for all things. With the leave of his superiors, who placed an entire confidence in his piety and discretion, he assisted the poor abundantly out of the alms which he gathered. He visited the sick with the most tender charity, and sucked himself their most loathsome ulcers. He admonished sinners, and exhorted all to piety, especially dying persons, with a most moving unction and prudence. St. Philip Neri often conversed with him, being wonderfully delighted with that excellent spirit of humility and piety which he discovered in his soul, and in his whole deportment. When St. Charles Borromeo had sent the rules which he had drawn up for his Oblates at Milan, to St. Philip Neri, begging him to revise them, St. Philip excused himself and referred the book to our poor lay-brother. St. Felix declined the commission, alleging that he was an illiterate person. But being commanded in obedience to hear the rules read to him, to speak to every part, and direct what he thought best to be altered, he obeyed; and some things of great moment he advised to be expunged as too difficult, with which St. Charles complied, expressing his admiration at our humble saint’s heavenly discretion.*

He always preserved his purity unspotted both in mind and body, guarding it by the strictest watchfulness over his senses, especially his eyes; and he never looked any woman in the face. He walked always barefoot, even without sandals, and chastised his body with incredible austerities; he wore a shirt of iron links and plates studded with rough spikes: and when he could do it without too remarkable a singularity, he fasted on bread and water: on the last three days in Lent he ate nothing at all. He privately used to pick out of the baskets the crusts left by the other religious for his own dinner. He watched a great part of the nights in prayer, allowing himself only two or three hours for sleep, which he usually took on his knees, leaning his head against a fagot, or lying down on the boards, or on twigs. At the least sign given him by any superior, he was always ready to do whatever was ordered him. He always called himself the ass or beast of burden, to serve the community, and regarded himself as one who was not to be ranked among the religious brethren. He thought himself unworthy even to converse with them; and on that account, when with them, he spoke very little. If any one contradicted him in indifferent things, he readily acquiesced in what they said, and was silent. When he ate alone, and thought no one saw him, he practised excessive austerities; but when he dined in company with others, he endeavored ordinarily to shun any singularity that could be taken notice of. It was his study to conceal from others, as much as possible, all heavenly favors which he received, and to avoid whatever might give them a good opinion of him. He disguised his mortifications under various pretences, and excused his going without sandals saying he walked more easily without them, but suppressed the inconveniences he felt in that mortification. In serving at mass, he was sometimes so overpowered by the abundance of his tears, and transported in ecstasies of divine love, that he was not able to answer the priest. The fire of divine love which burned in his breast, made him often sing short spiritual canticles, which it also inspired him to compose in a plain, simple style, but full of heavenly sentiments. In singing them he was often seen quite ravished and absorbed in God. He had the most ardent devotion to the passion of Christ, and in meditating on it usually watered the ground with abundant tears. The habitual union of his heart with God, made him often not perceive others near him, and sometimes he did not know who had been his companion abroad. When a certain brother in religion asked him how he could preserve so perfect a recollection amidst the variety of objects which he met in his office abroad, he answered: “Why, brother, every creature in the world will raise our hearts to God, if we look upon it with a good eye.” The extraordinary raptures with which he was often favored in prayer, are not to be expressed by words. He performed the office of the brother questor for his community in Rome forty years. When he was grown old, the cardinal protector, who loved him exceedingly for his extraordinary virtue, told his superiors that they ought now to ease him of that burden. But Felix begged that he might be shown no indulgence, lest by receiving earthly favors, he should be deprived of those which are heavenly; for the soul grows more sluggish if the body be too much cherished. Being seventy-two years old, he foretold his death to several companions, and to certain persons that lay dying. He soon after fell sick of a fever, and was comforted by a vision of the Blessed Virgin, accompanied with many holy angels. Shortly after this favor, he, in great spiritual joy, expired on the 18th of May, 1587. Many miracles were juridically approved, and St. Felix was beatified by Urban VIII., in 1625, and canonized by Clement XI., in 1721, though the bull of his canonization was only published by Benedict XIII., in 1724.2 His body remains in the church of his order in Rome.

St. Felix, though little in the eyes of the world and in his own, was great before God. The poverty of a Lazarus, abandoned by all, but suffering with patience, resignation, and humility, is something far more glorious and more desirable than the most glittering sceptres. God will condemn the renowned exploits of those false divinities of the earth who have filled the world with the sound of their name; but he crowns the least desire of a humble heart employed in loving him. A person who lives in the world is bound to make all his actions perfect sacrifices to God, and purity of intention converts the works of any secular calling into the works of God. But this can only be formed and maintained in a life in which a constant spirit of piety animates the soul, and a considerable time is reserved for exercises of interior devotion. Let no man take sanctuary in purity of intention who suffers the works of his secular profession, much less company or pleasures, to engross his soul, and entirely to usurp his time. A life of business, and still more a life of pleasure, entangle and ensnare the mind, and leave in it a peculiar relish which is incompatible with pure heavenly desires, and a value for those maxims of the gospel wherein true heavenly wisdom consists, or with a serious constant application to the mortification of self-love and the passions.

MAY 21 — ST. GODRICK, HERMIT

He was born of very mean parents at Walpole, in Norfolk, and in his youth carried about little peddling wares which he sold in villages. Having by degrees improved his stock, he frequented cities and fairs, and made several voyages by sea to traffic in Scotland. In one of these he called at Holy Island, or Lindisfarne, where he was charmed and exceedingly edified with the retirement and religious deportment of the monks, and especially with the account which they gave him of the wonderful life of St. Cuthbert. He inquired of them every particular relating to him, visited every corner of that holy solitude and of the neighboring isle of Farne, and falling on his knees, prayed with many tears for grace to imitate the fervor of that saint in serving God, resolving for that purpose to give up all earthly pretensions. He entered upon a new course of life by a penitential devout pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and visited Compostella in his way home. After his return into Norfolk, he accepted the charge of house-steward in the family of a very rich man. The servants were not very regular, and for their private junketings often trespassed upon their neighbors. Godrick finding he was not able to prevent these injustices, and that the nobleman took no notice of his complaints about, them, being easy so long as he was no sufferer himself, left his place for fear of being involved in the guilt of such an injustice.

After making a pilgrimage to St. Giles in France, and to Rome, he went to the north of England in order the better to carry into execution his design of devoting himself wholly to a retired life. A fervent servant of God, named Godwin, who had passed a considerable time in the monastery of Durham, and by conversing with the most holy monks and exercising himself in the interior and exterior practices of all virtues, was well qualified to be a director to an inexperienced novice, joined our saint, and they led together an austere anchoretical life in a wilderness situated on the north to Carlisle, serving one another, and spending both the days and nights in the praises of God. After two years God called Godwin to himself by a happy death after a short sickness. St. Godrick having lost his companion, made a second painful pilgrimage to Jerusalem. After his return he passed some time in the solitude of Streneshalch, now Whitby; but after a year and some months went to Durham to offer up his prayers before the shrine of St. Cuthbert, and from thence retired into the desert of Finchal, or Finkley, three miles from Durham, near the river Wear. St. John Baptist and St. Cuthbert he chose for his principal patrons and models. The austerities which he practised are rather to be admired than imitated. He had his regular tasks of devotion, consisting of psalms and other prayers which he had learned by heart, and which he constantly recited at midnight, break of day, and the other canonical hours, besides a great number of other devotions. Though he was ignorant of the very elements of learning, he was too well experienced in the happy art of conversing with God and his own soul ever to be at a loss how to employ his time in solitude. Whole days and nights seemed too short for his rapturous contemplations, one of which he often wished with St. Bruno he could have continued without interruption for eternity, in inflamed acts of adoration, compunction, love, or praise. His patience under the sharpest pains of sicknesses or ulcers, and all manner of trials, was admirable; but his humility was yet more astonishing. His conversation was meek, humble, and simple. He concealed as much as possible from the sight and knowledge of all men whatever might procure their esteem, and he was even unwilling any one should see or speak with him. Yet this he saw himself obliged to allow on certain days every week to such as came with the leave of the prior of Durham, under whose care and obedience he lived. A monk of that house was his confessor, said mass for him, and administered him the sacraments in a chapel adjoining to his cell, which the holy man had built in honor of St. John Baptist. He was most averse from all pride and vanity, and never spoke of himself but as of the most sinful of creatures, a counterfeit hermit, an empty phantom of a religious man: lazy, slothful, proud, and imperious, abusing the charity of good people who assisted him with their alms. But the more the saint humbled himself, the more did God exalt him by his grace, and by wonderful miraculous gifts. For several years before his death he was confined to his bed by sickness and old age. William of Newbridge, who visited him during that time, tells us that though his body appeared in a manner dead, his tongue was ever repeating the sacred names of the three divine Persons, and in his countenance there appeared a wonderful dignity, accompanied with an unusual grace and sweetness. Having remained in the desert sixty-three years, he was seized with his last illness, and happily departed to his Lord on the 21st of May, 1170, in the reign of Henry II. His body was buried in the chapel of St. John Baptist. Many miracles confirmed the opinion of his sanctity, and a little chapel was built in his memory by Richard, brother to Hugh Pidsey, bishop of Durham. See William of Newbridge,1. 2, c. 20; Matthew Paris, Matthew of Westminster, his life written by Nicholas of Durham his confessarius, and abridged by Harpsfield, Sæc. 12, c. 45. See also the English Calendars, and those of the Benedictins, especially Menard’s and Edw. Mathew. Likewise Henschenius, t. 5, Maij, p. 68.

MAY 21 — ST. HOSPITIUS, RECLUSE IN PROVENCE, COMMONLY CALLED SOSPIS

He shut himself up in the ruins of an old tower near Villafranca, one league from Nice, in Provence, in a peninsula which is still called from him San-sospis. He girded himself of with an iron chain, lived only on bread and dates, and was honored with the gifts of prophecy and miracles. He died on the 21st of May, 681, on which day he is mentioned in the Roman Martyrology. See S. Greg. of Tours, Papebroke, Baillet, &c.

MAY 22 — SAINT YVO, CONFESSOR

From the informations taken for his canonization, twenty-seven years after his death, and from the bull itself See Dom. Morice, Hist. de la Bretagne. t. 1, ad an. 1303; Papebroke, ad 19 Maij, t. 4, p. 583; Lobineau, Vies des Saints de la Bretagne p. 245.

A. D. 1353.

ST. YVO HELORI, or son of Helor, descended from a noble and virtuous family near Treguier, in Brittany, was born in 1253. He studied grammar at home with unusual application and success, and at fourteen years of age was sent to Paris, where he learned the liberal arts and divinity: he applied himself to the civil and canon law at Orleans. His mother was wont frequently to say to him that he ought so to live as became a saint, to which his answer always was, that he hoped to be one. This resolution took deep root in his soul, and the impression of this obligation was in his heart a continual spur to virtue, and a check against the least shadow of any dangerous course. The contagious example of many loose companions at school served only to inspire him with the greater horror of evil, and moved him to arm himself more vigorously against it. The gravity of his behavior reclaimed many from their vicious courses. His time was chiefly divided betwixt study and prayer; and for his recreation he visited the hospitals, where he attended the sick with great charity, and comforted them under the severe trials of their suffering condition. During his ten years’ stay at Paris, whither he was sent at fourteen years of age, and where he went through a course of theology and canon law, he was the admiration of that university, both for the quickness of his parts and his extraordinary piety. He continued the same manner of life at Orleans, where he studied the decretals under the celebrated William de Blaye, afterwards bishop of Angouleme, and the institutions under Peter de la Chapelle, afterwards bishop of Toulouse and cardinal; but he increased his austerities and penance. He chastised his body with a hair shirt, always abstained from meat and wine; fasted all Lent and Advent and on many other days in the year or, bread and water, and took his rest, which was always very short, lying on a mat of straw, with a book or stone under his head for a pillow; and he never lay down till he was quite overpowered with sleep.

He made a private vow of perpetual chastity; but this not being known, many honorable matches were proposed to him, which he modestly rejected as incompatible with his studious life. He long deliberated with himself whether to embrace a religious or a clerical state; but the desire of serving his neighbor determined him at length in favor of the latter. He desired, indeed, out of humility, always to remain in the lesser orders; but his bishop compelled him to receive the priesthood, a step which cost him many tears; though he had qualified himself for that sacred dignity by the most perfect purity of mind and body, and by a long and fervent preparation. Maurice, the archdeacon of Rennes. who was formerly by his office perpetual vicar of the bishop, appointed him official or ecclesiastical judge for that diocese. St. Yvo protected the orphans and widows, defended the poor, and administered justice to all with an impartiality, application, and tenderness, which gained him the good will even of those who lost their causes. He never pronounced sentence without shedding many tears, always having before his eyes the tribunal of the sovereign Judge, where he himself was one day to appear, and to stand silent at the bar.

Many bishops strove who should be so happy as to possess him: his own prelate, Alan le Bruc bishop of Treguier, carried the point, and obliged him to leave Rennes. The saint, by his care, soon changed the face of this diocese, and reformed the clergy. The bad feared him, the good found in him a father, and the great ones respected him. Though himself a judge, in quality of official, he solicited causes in favor of the poor in other courts, pleaded them himself at the bar, and visited and comforted the prisoners. He was surnamed the advocate and lawyer of the poor. Once, not being able to reconcile a mother and a son, who pleaded violently against each other, he went and offered up mass for them, and they immediately came to an agreement together. He never took a fee, but pleaded all causes without any gratuity. His bishop, Alan de Bruc, nominated him rector of Tresdretz, and eight years after, his successor, Geoffrey Tournemine, of Lohanec, one of the most considerable parishes of the diocese, which he served ten years, till his death. He always rose at midnight to matins, and said every day mass with incredible devotion and fervor. In his preparation he continued long prostrate, quite absorbed in the consideration of the abyss of his own nothingness, and of the awful majesty of him to whom he was going to offer sacrifice, and the sanctity of the victim. He usually rose bathed in tears, which continued to flow abundantly, during the whole time he was celebrating the divine mysteries. Upon accepting the first curacy, he laid aside furs and every other ornament in dress, which his former dignity obliged him to wear, and he ever after used the meanest and plainest ecclesiastical garments that could be worn. His fasts and austerities he rather increased than abated; fasting, as we observed already, Lent, Advent, and all vigils, and Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, every week, so severely as to allow himself no other refection than bread and water. On other days he only added to his meal a pottage of peas or other pulse or herbs, and on the principal festivals of the year, a couple of eggs. Tears trickled from his eyes whenever he spoke on spiritual things, which were the usual subject of his discourse; and such was the energy of his words, as penetrated the souls of his hearers. He preached often in distant churches, besides his own, and sometimes thrice or five times on the same day. All differences were referred to him, and he took care to reconcile the parties. He built a house near his own for a hospital of the poor and sick; he washed their feet, cleansed their ulcers, served them at table, and ate himself only the scraps which they had left. He distributed his corn, or the price for which he sold it, among the poor, immediately after the harvest. When a certain person endeavored to persuade him to keep it some months, that he might sell it at a better price, he answered: “I know not whether I shall be then alive to give it.” Another time the same person said to him: “I have gained a fifth by keeping my corn.” “But I,” replied the saint, “a hundred fold by giving it immediately away.” On a certain occasion, when he had only one loaf in his house, he ordered it to be given to the poor, but upon his vicar’s complaint at this, he gave him one half of it, and divided the other half among the poor, reserving nothing for himself. Providence never failed him in his necessities. During the Lent, in 1303, he perceived his strength daily to decay; yet, far from abating any thing in his austerities, he thought himself obliged to redouble his fervor in proportion as he advanced nearer to eternity. On the eve of the Ascension he preached to his people, said mass, being upheld by two persons, and gave advice to all who addressed themselves to him. After this he lay down on his bed, which was a hurdle of twigs platted together, and received the last sacraments. From that moment he entertained himself with God alone, till his soul went to possess him in his glory. His death happened on the 19th of May, 1303, in the fiftieth year of his age.* The greatest part of his relics are kept in the cathedral of Treguier. Charles of Blois, duke of Brittany, placed a portion in the church of our Lady at Lamballe, capital of his county (now the duchy) of Penthievre. From another portion given to the abbey of our Saviour, of the Cistercian Order, small distributions have been made to St. Peter’s at Louvain, to Mechlin, Gant, and other places. The duke of Brittany, John of Montfort, (competitor with Charles of Blois for that duchy, which after his death was carried by his valiant widow, and enjoyed by his son,) who went to Rome to solicit his canonization, declared, that under a distemper, being given over by physicians, he was restored to his health by imploring St. Yvo’s intercession. Many other miracles were proved before the commissaries of John XXII., in 1330, and St. Yvo was canonized by Clement VI., in 1347. His festival is celebrated in the several dioceses in Brittany, and his name occurs in the Roman Martyrology on the 19th of May. The university of Nantes puts itself under the special protection of his patronage. The Bretons founded a collegiate church in his honor at Paris, in 1348. The chapel of Kirmartin, where the saint lived, which was first dedicated under the patronage of the Blessed Virgin, now bears his name: a church in Rome, and several others in other places, are built in his honor.

St. Yvo was a saint amidst the dangers of the world; but he preserved his virtue untainted only by arming himself carefully against them, by conversing assiduously with God in prayer and holy meditation, and by most watchfully shunning the snares of bad company. Without this precaution all the instructions of parents, and all other means of virtue, are ineffectual; and a soul is sure to split against this rock, which does not steer wide of it. God preserved Toby faithful amidst the Samaritan idolaters, and Lot in Sodom itself; but he will never protect those who voluntarily seek danger and court destruction. Who, for pleasure or amusement, would choose to live in a pest-house, continually to converse with persons infected with the plague, and to breathe an impoisoned air? The maxims both of reason and religion command us to fly from out of the midst of Babylon, that is, from the company of abandoned sinners, whose very conversation and deportment secretly spread a baneful influence over our minds.

MAY 22 — S. BASILISCUS, BISHOP OF COMANA IN PONTUS, M

He received the crown of martyrdom together with St. Lucia, at Nicomedia, in 312, under the tyrant Maximinus Daia. Peace being soon after restored to the church, his body was honorably brought back to Comana. St. Chrysostom died in the Presbyterium, or community of the clergy belonging to the church of St. Basiliscus. The martyr had before admonished the priest in a dream to prepare a lodging for his brother John; and he comforted St. Chrysostom by a vision, in which he bade him be of good courage, for the next day they should be together. See Palladius in vita Chrys. Theodoret, and Sozomen.

MAY 22 — SS. CASTUS AND ÆMILIUS, MM

They had first fallen in the persecution; but being touched with remorse, rose again with greater fervor, and triumphed over the flames. St. Austin, in a sermon which he preached on their festival, says, they fell like St. Peter, by presuming on their own strength. They suffered in Africa, probably under Decius, in 250. See St. Cyprian de lapsis; St. Austin, Serm. 285, and the old African Martyrology of the fifth century.

MAY 22 — ST. BOBO, CONFESSOR

He was a gentleman of Provence, and a great soldier, the father of the poor, and protector of his country against the Saracens, whom he often defeated when they poured into Provence by sea from Spain and Africa. He afterwards led a penitential contemplative life for many years; and, being on a pilgrimage to Rome, died at Voghera, near Pavia, in 985. His name is in great veneration in Provence, and his festival a holiday of precept in most cities in Lombardy. See his exact life in the Acta Sanctorum.

MAY 22 — ST. CONALL, ABBOT OF ENNIS-CHAVIL, IN THE COUNTY OF TYRCONNEL, IN IRELAND

In this province he is the most celebrated patron and titular saint of a most extensive parish, where he is honored with extraordinary devotion; his feast is most famous, and the church and well which bear his name are visited by pilgrims. See Colgan, MSS. ad 22 Maij.

MAY 23 — SAINT JULIA, V. M

From her authentic acts given by Ruinart in an appendix to his edition of the History of Victor Vitenals de Persec. Vandal.

Fifth Age

SHE was a noble virgin at Carthage, who, when that city was taken by Genseric, in 439, was sold for a slave to a pagan merchant of Syria. Under the most mortifying employments of her station, by cheerfulness and patience, she found, besides her sanctification, a present happiness and comfort, which the world could not have afforded. All the time she was not employed in her master’s business was devoted to prayer and reading books of piety. She fasted very rigorously every day but Sunday; nor could all the entreaties of her master, who was charmed with her fidelity and other virtues, nor the hardships of her situation, prevail with her to be more tender of herself. The merchant thought proper to carry her with him in one of his voyages to Gaul, where he imported the most valuable commodities of the Levant. Having reached the northern part of Corsica, or that point now called Capo-Corso, he cast anchor and went on shore to join the pagans of the place in an idolatrous festival kept there at that time, with the sacrifice of a bull. Julia was left at some distance, because she would not be defiled by the superstitious ceremonies, which she openly reviled. Felix, the governor of the island, who was a bigoted pagan, asked the merchant who this woman was who dared to insult the gods. He informed him that she was a Christian, and that all his authority over her was too weak to prevail with her to renounce her religion; but that he found her so diligent and faithful he could not part with her. The governor offered him four of his best female slaves in exchange for her. But the merchant, whose name was Eusebius replied: “No: all you are worth will not purchase her; for I would freely lose the most valuable thing I have in the world, rather than be deprived of her.” However, the governor, while Eusebius was drunk and asleep, took upon him to compel her to sacrifice to his gods. He proffered to procure her liberty if she would comply. The saint made answer that she was as free as she desired to be, as long as she was allowed to serve Jesus Christ: and whatever should happen, she would never purchase her liberty by so abominable a crime. Felix thinking himself derided by her undaunted and resolute air, in a transport of rage, caused her to be struck on the face, and the hair of her head to be torn off; and lastly, ordered her to be hanged on a cross till she expired. Certain monks of the isle of Gorgon (which is now called La Gorgona, and lies between Corsica and Leghorn) carried off her body; but in 763, Desiderius, king of Lombardy, removed her relics to Brescia, where her memory is celebrated with great devotion.

St. Julia, whether free or a slave, whether in prosperity or in adversity, was equally fervent and devout. She adored all the sweet designs of providence; and, far from complaining, she never ceased to praise and thank God under all his holy appointments, making them always the means of her virtue and sanctification. God, by an admirable chain of events, raised her by her fidelity to the honor of the saints, and to the dignity of a virgin and martyr.

MAY 23 — ST. DESIDERIUS, BISHOP OF LANGRES, MARTYR

The good shepherd is always ready, in imitation of his divine model, to lay down his life for his sheep. Such this holy pastor approved himself. When certain pagan barbarians ravaged that part of Gaul, St. Desiderius, accompanied with his clergy, went out to meet them; but was massacred with his followers, and fell a victim to save his flock. Sigebert says this happened in the invasion of Chrocus, the German king, under Gallien; but Tillemont thinks it rather ought to be placed in 411, when the Alans, Sueves, and Vandals plundered that country. See Tillemont, t. 11, p. 540; Gall. Christ. Nov. t. 4, p. 510.

MAY 23 — ST. DESIDERIUS, BISHOP OF VIENNE, MARTYR

When queen Brunehaut governed the courts of her two sons, Theodebert, king of Austrasia, and Theodoric of Burgundy, this zealous pastor boldly reproved her for her incests and cruelties; but a sermon which he preached before her and Theodoric on chastity, chiefly in the words of St. Paul, procured him the crown of martyrdom; for, in his return home, he was, by their order and contrivance, murdered by three assassins in a village now called St. Didier de Chalaraine, near the brook of that name in the principality of Dombes, in 612. See Fredegarius, Aimoinus, Jonas, &c., quoted by Henschenius the Bollandist; and Acta vel Passio S. Desiderii M., a Sisebuto Rege (Hispaniæ) composita, published by Flores. España Sagrada, t. 7, Append. 4, p. 337.

MAY 24 — ST. VINCENT OF LERINS, C

See his Commonitorium adversus Hæreticos, with the English preface of Mr. Reeves, t. 2; also Ceillier and Orsi: and his Justification and Life in Papebroke, Acta Sanctor. t. 3, p. 284.

A. D. 450.

ST. VINCENT was of Gaulish extraction, had a polite education, was afterwards for some time an officer in the army, and lived with dignity in the world. He informs us in his Prologue, that having been some time lossed about in the storms of a bustling military life, he began seriously to consider the dangers with which he was surrounded, and the vanity and folly of his pursuits. He desired to take shelter in the harbor of religion, which he calls the safest refuge from the world.* His view in this resolution was, that he might strenuously labor to divest his soul of its ruffling passions, of pride and vanity, and to offer to God the acceptable sacrifice of a humble and Christian spirit, and that being further removed from worldly temptations, he might endeavor more easily to avoid not only the wrecks of the present life, but also the burnings of that which is to come. In these dispositions he retired from the crowds of cities, and made for the desired haven with all the sail ho could. The place he chose for his retirement was in a small remote island, sheltered from the noise of the world. This Gennadius assures us to have been the famous monastery of Lerins, situated in the lesser of the two agreeable green islands which formerly bore the name of Lerins, not far from the coast of Lower Provence towards Antibes. In this place he shut himself up, that he might attend solely to what God commands us, and study to know him. Vincent reflected that tune is always snatching something from us: its fleeting moments pass as quick as they come, never, never more to return, as water which is gone from its source runs to it no more. Our course is almost run out; the past time appears as a shadow; so will that which is now to come when it shall be once over, and no tears, no entreaties, no endeavors, can recall the least moment we have already let slip unimproved. In these reflections the fervent servant of God assures us that he earnestly strove to redeem time,1 and to be always turning it to the best account, that this invaluable grace might not rise up at the last day in judgment against him. He considered that true faith is necessary to salvation no less than morality, and that the former is the foundation of Christian virtue; and he grieved to see the church at that time pestered with numberless heresies, which sucked their poison from their very antidote, the Holy Scriptures, and which, by various wiles, spread on every side their dangerous snares. To guard the faithful against the false and perplexing glosses of modern subtle refiners, and to open the eyes of those who had been already seduced by them, he, with great clearness, eloquence, and force of reasoning, wrote a book, which he entitled, A Commonitory against Heretics, which he composed in 434, three years after the general council of Ephesus had condemned the Nestorians. He had chiefly in view the heretics of his own times, especially Nestorians and the Apollinarists, but he confuted them by general, clear principles, which overturn all heresies to the end of the world. Together with the ornaments of eloquence and erudition, the inward beauty of his mind, and the brightness of his devotion, sparkle in every page of his book.

Out of humility, he disguises himself under the name of Peregrinus, to express the quality of being a pilgrim or stranger on earth, and one by his monastic state, in a more particular manner, estranged from the world. He styles himself The least of all the servants of God, and less than the least of all the saints, unworthy to bear the holy name of a Christian. He lays down this rule, or fundamental principle, in which he found, by a diligent inquiry, all Catholic pastors and the ancient fathers to agree, that such doctrine is truly Catholic as hath been believed in all places, at all times, and by all the faithful.* By this test of universality, antiquity, and consent, he saith, all controverted points in belief must be tried. He showeth, that while Novatian, Photinus, Sabellius, Donatus, Arius, Eunomius, Jovinian, Pelagius, Celestius, and Nestorius expounded the divine oracles different ways, to avoid the perplexity of errors, we must interpret the Holy Scriptures by the tradition of the Catholic church, as the clew to conduct us in the truth. For this tradition, derived from the apostles, manifesteth the true meaning of the Holy Scriptures, and all novelty in faith is a certain mark of heresy; and, in religion, nothing is more to be dreaded than itching ears after new teachers. He saith: “They who have made bold with one article of faith will proceed on to others; and what will be the consequence of this reforming of religion, but only that these refiners will never have done till they have reformed it quite away.”2 He elegantly expatiates on the divine charge given to the church, to maintain inviolable the sacred depositum of faith.3 He takes notice that heretics quote the sacred writings at every word, and that in the works of Paulus Samosatenus, Priscillian, Eunomius, Jovinian, and other like pests of Christendom, almost every page is painted and laid on thick with scripture texts, which Tertullian also remarks. But in this, saith St. Vincent, heretics are like those poisoners or quacks who put off their destructive potions under inscriptions of good drugs, and under the title of infallible cures.4 They imitate the father of lies, who quoted scripture against the Son of God when he tempted him.5 The saint adds, that if a doubt arise in interpreting the meaning of the scriptures in any point of faith, we must summon in the holy fathers, who have lived and died in the faith and communion of the Catholic church, and by this test we shall prove the false doctrine to be novel. For that only we must look upon as indubitably certain and unalterable, which all, or the major part of these fathers have delivered, like the harmonious consent of a general council. But if any one among them, be he ever so holy, ever so learned, holds any thing besides, or in opposition to the rest, that is to be placed in the rank of singular and private opinions, and never to be looked upon as the public, general, authoritative doctrine of the church.6 After a point has been decided in a general council, the definition is irrefragable. These general principles, by which all heresies are easily confounded, St. Vincent explains with equal eloquence and perspicuity.† His diction is pure and agreeable, his reasoning close and solid; and no controversial book ever expressed so much, and such deep sense, in so few words. The same rules are laid down by Tertullian in his book of Prescriptions, by St. Irenæus and other fathers. St. Vincent died in the reigns of Theodosius II. and Valentinian III., consequently before the close of the year 456.* His relics are preserved with respect at Lerins, and his name occurs in the Roman Martyrology.

St. Vincent observes7 that souls which have lost the anchorage of the Catholic faith, “are tossed and shattered with inward storms of clashing thoughts, that by this restless posture of mind they may be made sensible of their danger; and taking down the sails of pride and vanity which they have unhappily spread before every gust of heresy, they may make all the sail they can into the safe and peaceful harbor of their holy mother the Catholic church; and being sick from a surfeit of errors, may there discharge those foul and bitter waters to make room for the pure waters of life. There they may unlearn well what they have learned ill; may get a right notion of all those doctrines of the church they are capable of understanding, and believe those that surpass all understanding.”

MAY 24 — SS. DONATIAN AND ROGATIAN, MM

There lived at Nantes an illustrious young nobleman called Donatian, who having received the holy sacrament of regeneration, led a most edifying life, and laid himself out with much zeal in converting others to faith in Christ. His elder brother Rogatian was not able to resist the moving example of his piety, and the force of his discourses, and desired to be baptized. But the bishop having withdrawn and concealed himself for fear of the persecution, he was not able to receive that sacrament, but was shortly after baptized in his blood. For he declared himself a Christian at a time when to embrace that sacred profession was to become a candidate for martyrdom. The emperor Maximian sent an order to the prefect, directing him to put to death all who refused to sacrifice to Jupiter and Apollo. This must have happened when that emperor was in Gaul occupied in his expedition either against the Bagaudæ in 286, or against Carausius, who, having assumed the purple in Britain, maintained himself in that usurped dignity seven years. The acts of these martyrs attribute this order to the emperors Dioclesian and Maximian, but we find it usual to ascribe to both those emperors the decrees of one. The prefect to whom it was addressed seems to have been the cruel persecutor Rictius Varus, prefect of the Belgic, and probably also of the Celtic Gaul. The title of president which the acts give him, only belonged to a governor who had power of life and death. The prefect arriving at Nantes, Donatian was impeached before him for professing himself a Christian, and for having withdrawn others, particularly his brother, from the worship of the gods. Donatian was therefore apprehended, and having boldly confessed Christ before the governor, was cast into prison and loaded with irons. Rogatian was also brought before the prefect, who endeavored first to gain him by flattering speeches, but finding him inflexible, sent him to prison with his brother. Rogatian grieved that he had not been able to receive the sacrament of baptism, and prayed that the kiss of peace which his brother gave him might supply it. Donatian also prayed for him that his faith might procure him the effect of baptism, and the effusion of his blood that of the sacrament of chrism, that is, of confirmation. They passed that night together in fervent prayer. They were the next day called for again by the prefect, to whom they declared that they were ready to suffer for the name of Christ whatever torments were prepared for them. By the order of the inhuman judge they were first stretched on the rack, afterwards their heads were pierced with lances, and lastly cut off, about the year 287.* Their bodies were buried near the place where they suffered. The Christians some time after built them a sepulchre, at the foot of which the bishops of Nantes chose their burial-place. Towards the close of the fifth century, the Christians built a church upon the place, which has been successively in the hands of monks and canons, and is at present parochial. The bodies of these two martyrs in 1145 were translated by Albert, bishop of Ostia, to the cathedral, where they remain in great veneration. See their authentic acts, though they seem only to have been written in the fifth century, in Ruinart, Act. Sincer., p. 279; Tillemont, t. 4, p. 491; Ceillier, t. 3, p 362; Lobineau, Vies des Saints de la Bretagne, p. 2.

MAY 24 — ST. JOHN DE PRADO, PRIEST, M

He was a native of the kingdom of Leon, in Spain, and embraced in his own country the austere order of the Barefooted Observantin Franciscans. Being sent by the authority of the Congregation de Propagandâ Fide to preach the faith in the kingdoms of Fez and Morocco, he discharged himself with so great zeal that the Mahometans cast him into a dungeon loaded with chains. The holy confessor suffered with constancy and joy most cruel scourgings and other inhuman torments, and consummated his martyrdom by fire on the 24th of May, on which his name is inserted in the Franciscan Martyrology, by order of Benedict XIV. He was solemnly beatified by Benedict XIII. in 1728. See that pope’s Bull, t. 10; Bullar., part 4, p. 333.

MAY 25 — ST. MARY MAGDALEN OF PAZZI, V

From her life, written by her confessarius, Puccini, and from the bull of her canonization. See Baert, the Bollandist, t. 6, Maij, p. 177.

A. D. 1607

THE family of the Pazzi was one of the most illustrious in the republic of Florence, and was allied to the sovereign house of Medicis; but the birth of this saint hath reflected on it greater glory than the long list of heroes, statesmen, governors, and other great personages which it displays. Nor was her maternal family of the Blondelmonti inferior in rank, or less fruitful in great men. She was born in that city in 1566, and in honor of St. Catharine of Sienna received her name in baptism. From the first dawn of reason there appeared in her the happy presages of that eminent virtue of which she became a perfect model. When only seven years old, she was so compassionate to the poor, that she was wont to deprive herself of her meat to give it to some beggar; and such was her devotion, that it was her custom to steal privately from the company of her playfellows to spend her time in secret prayer. In her tender infancy she was accustomed to repeat often the Lord’s Prayer, Hail Mary, and Creed, and other devotions; and she taught other poor children the same with wonderful care and zeal. When her father carried her into the country, it was her custom and her delight to assemble together the little girls of the village, and to teach them what she knew of the Christian doctrine; which she did with wonderful modesty and patience. One day it happened that she had begun to instruct a young girl of one of her father’s tenants in her catechism, when she was told that she must go back to Florence; but she cried so much at the thought of leaving her work of charity imperfect, that her father carried the other girl with them to the city, where the young saint finished her instruction. At eight or nine years of age, she began more ardently to apply herself to holy prayer, and she employed whole hours in that exercise. In this divine school she learned the most perfect sentiments of all virtues, and began to feel so strong a desire to love and please God, that worldly amusements were tedious and bitter to her. She knew no pleasure but in speaking to God, or of God, or heavenly things. She often left her bed in the night, to lie on the floor or on straw. One day she made herself a crown of rushes interwoven with thorns, tied it on her head, and lay all night with it, suffering the pain which the pricks of the thorns gave her. To this action she was moved at nine years of age, by a meditation on the sufferings of Christ; which mystery from that time was the chief object of her pious thoughts and devotions during the remainder of her life. Once, on St. Andrew’s day, in her meditation, her heart was so inflamed with a desire of suffering with and for Christ, that she swooned away; and her mother was afraid she was dying. After she was grown up and a nun, coming to herself from a like fit, she cried out: “O Love, this grace is like that which I received in my childhood, when my mother thought it a corporeal disorder.” By hair-shirts, and other severe mortifications, she endeavored to conform herself to Christ crucified, and put on her head in the night a plaited crown of prickly olive branches. She always wept at the sight of any grievous corporal distress and much more for any spiritual misery of her neighbor. Such was her sender devotion to the blessed eucharist, that she loved to be near those who came from the holy communion, as if by love she perceived the odor of Christ’s presence. She made her first communion with wonderful devotion at ten years of age; and at twelve, by vow consecrated her virginity to God. At fourteen, her father being made by the grand-duke governor of Cortona, she was placed by him a pensioner in the monastery of St. John in Florence. There she gave full scope to her devotion, and employed every morning four hours in pious meditation on her knees. Out of humility, she usually kept at a distance from the nuns, whom she respected as the favorite spouses of Christ.

After fifteen months her father took her home, with the view of procuring her an honorable and advantageous match. Several proposals were made to her, and her parents were very pressing for her consent. But she protested that the disposal of herself in marriage was no longer in her power. In the choice of a religious state, being much pleased with the custom of frequent and almost daily communion practised among the Carmelite nuns, she preferred that order, and entered their monastery, in St. Fridian’s suburb, at Florence, on the eve of the Assumption, in 1582. She continued some days in a secular habit, that she might be the better acquainted with the rule. It is not to be expressed how much those holy and fervent virgins were edified by the great virtues which she practised. But her parents, after fifteen days, took her home again for three months, the better to try her vocation. However, she would by no means consent ever to put on fine clothes, or do any thing which seemed to favor vanity or sensuality. Having obtained their blessing, she on the 1st of December returned to the monastery, being then fifteen years old, and took the habit on the 30th of January following. When the priest put the crucifix into her hands, saying those words: God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ;1 a seraphic ardor appeared in her countenance, and she felt herself inflamed with a burning desire of suffering during her whole life for Christ; and trampling under her feet all the vanities of the world, she gave herself most perfectly to Christ crucified, with the most firm purpose never to have any other spouse. After taking the habit, she threw herself at the feet of her mistress, begging she would never spare her in the most sensible self-denials and humiliations. During her novitiate, the example of her fervor excited those who were witnesses of it to the divine love. Being visited by a severe fit of sickness, her desire of suffering for the love of Him who died for us, was a subject of edification to the whole house. One of her sisters asking her how she could endure so much pain without any complaint, and even without speaking of her ailments, or even asking for any thing to comfort her, she answered, pointing to a crucifix which was near the side of her bed: “See what the infinite love of God hath suffered for my salvation. This same love sees my weakness, and gives me courage. They who call to mind the sufferings of Christ, and offer their own to God through his passion, find their pains sweet and amiable.” Under this illness, she was admitted to her religious profession on the 17th of May, 1584.

In religion, she changed her name Catharine into that of Mary Magdalen, out of devotion to that great model of penitent souls. After this consecration of herself to God, she enjoyed great heavenly consolations and frequent raptures during forty days, especially after her communions; as if her heavenly spouse would by these caresses celebrate with her his spiritual nuptials It is the general remark of the most experienced masters of a spiritual life. that God frequently visits souls, upon their fervent conversion from the world, with his comforts; in which, by the divine lights which he infuses, they sea their own nothingness, and advance in the sentiments of sincere humility; and are at the same time attracted by the feelings of his goodness to run in the sweet odor of his perfumes. This taste of his consolations encourages them to suffer trials with joy for his sake; and these never fail to succeed. For God, who is infinitely jealous of the hearts of his servants, will not suffer in them any rival. Wherefore, perfectly to crucify in them all secret self-love, that they may be fitted for vessels of his pure love, and to teach them thoroughly to know themselves, he throws them into the crucible of internal tribulation; and this fire is usually the more severe, the higher the degree of sanctity is to which he in his mercy designs to raise them. This our saint experienced by the state of interior desolation into which she fell from this first taste of his spiritual joy. But her virtue was solid, because humble, patient, and constant. She desired not heavenly comforts, deeming herself of all others the most unworthy; and the favors which she received she endeavored to conceal from men, referring them entirely to the gratuitous goodness of their author, and from them learning the more to humble herself and to raise her soul to his most pure love. It was always her desire to suffer for his sake, and this her thirst of the cross seemed insatiable. But whether in anguish or in consolation, the spring of her affections was the most ardent love of her heavenly spouse. She was often heard to cry out, “O Love! Love is not loved, not known by his own creatures! O my Jesus! if I had a voice strong and loud enough that I could be heard by all men in all the parts of the world, how would I cry out that this love might be known, loved, and esteemed by all men as the only true incomprehensible good! but the cursed poison of self-love robs men of this high knowledge, and renders them incapable of it.” She often invited, with all the fervor of her soul, all angels, men, stars, birds, beasts, plants, grains of sand, drops of water, and the whole chorus of the creation, to convert themselves into tongues, to praise, bless, and magnify the divine immensity and love. She sighed and wept much for the conversion of sinners, and when called away by public duties, or obliged to go to rest, often said, “Is it possible that I should take any rest while I consider how much God is offended on earth? O Love! I do it by obedience, and to fulfil thy holy will.”

Fearing lest at the time of her profession she might have offended God by too eager a desire of making that sacrifice, she begged and obtained leave to live as a novice two years after her vows. This term being completed, coming out of the novitiate, she was made second directress of the extern young girls. Three years after, she finished her juniorate, or term among the young nuns, and was employed in instructing the novices. During these first five years, almighty God was pleased to exercise her by most severe interior trials. She fasted always on bread and water, except on Sundays and holidays, on which she took Lenten diet. She added all other kinds of bodily austerities, and at the same time suffered most grievous pains and anguish of soul. She was assaulted with the most violent temptations of impurity, gluttony, pride, infidelity, and blasphemy. Her imagination was often filled with those abominations, the very name or thought of which fills chaste souls with the greatest horror. She had recourse by prayer to the spouse and to the queen of virgins against the obstinacy and rage of this enemy, and chastised her body with disciplines, hair-shirts, studded iron girdles, lying hard, and the like inventions. Her mind was also troubled with the most hideous images of hellish monsters, and seemed abandoned, like Job, to the power of hell; and her soul was plunged into a state of darkness in which she was able to see nothing but horror in herself and in all things about her. Thoughts of blasphemy and infidelity infested her so violently that she sometimes cried out to her sisters, “Pray for me that I may not blaspheme God instead of praising him.” Fasting, which by habit and grace was formerly easy, now became grievous. Her sisters likewise despised her, looking on her foregoing graces, which they had formerly admired, to have been illusions. Nevertheless, God did not totally withdraw himself from his faithful spouse. Her chief support and comfort was in the meditation of Christ’s passion, in which she conceived fresh burning desires to become still more like that man of interior as well as exterior sorrows. After five years in this suffering state, God restored to her soul his holy peace and the comfort of his divine presence. In 1590, on Whitsunday, at Matins, when the Te Deum was intoned she fell into a rapture, and after the divine office, the joy which shone on her face and appeared in her words testified the return of her inward comforter. Squeezing by the hand the mother prioress and the mistress of the novices, she desired them to rejoice with her, saying, “Now winter is passed with me; assist me to thank and glorify my good Creator.” She was endued with a spirit of prophecy, and among other things, foretold the popedom to Leo XI. and his death soon after his election.

In 1598 she was appointed mistress of the novices for three years, according to the custom of the house, and in 1601 was continued in the same office; but in 1604 chosen sub-prioress, which office she discharged till her death. Her union with God seemed uninterrupted, and his name sufficed to transport her soul in raptures of love. She often repeated the doxology, Glory be to the Father, and always with incredible ardor bowing her body, and offering herself to all labors and every sort of death for God’s honor She considered only the pure will of God in all things with inexpressible fervor, and often repeated, “The will of God is ever most amiable.” And to her sisters, “How rich a traffic have we with God when we do every thing with a pure and vehement intention to please and honor him.” She appeared in every action like a glowing seraph, glorifying her Creator with all the powers and strength of her soul, and sometimes cried out, “Come, souls, come, love your God who so much loveth you. O Love, I die with mortal anguish when I see how little you are known and loved. O Love! Love! if you find no place to rest in, come all to me; I will lodge you. O souls created by Love, why do not you love?” She instructed her novices to sing the divine office with such awe and trembling in the company of the angels, as if they in spirit prostrated themselves at every word. If the divine office was sung too fast, she asked leave to go out, and would afterwards say, “What business could you have of greater importance that you were in such a hurry?” Her extreme thirst after the salvation of souls made her shed perpetual tears for the conversion of infidels, heretics, and sinners; and she often exhorted her sisters in the most moving manner to offer up all their actions for that end. Her devotion to the holy eucharist was extraordinary; and she used to say, that if it were necessary, she would joyfully enter the lion’s den, and suffer all pains for the sake of communicating. But her humility was most admirable. She always spoke of herself as of the bane of her community, and the outcast and abomination of all creatures. It was her delight to be forgotten, contemned, reprimanded, and employed in the meanest offices. She would often cry out. “O nothingness! how little art thou known!”*

In 1602 she contracted a violent cold and cough, which in 1603 was followed by the bursting of a vein and an abundant vomiting of blood, which often returned upon her. However, she recovered a little, and in October, 1604, she was chosen sub-prioress. The three last years of her life she endured violent headaches, fevers, sweats, pains in her breast, was subject to a spitting of blood, and a scurvy in her gums, by which she lost all her teeth. With these bodily pains she sometimes labored under the most grievous inward spiritual dryness and desolation of soul; yet her prayer was to suffer more, to suffer without any comfort, to drink gall without any honey. Love on one side made her desire to die to be united to her God; yet life seemed desirable that she might still suffer for love. Having exhorted her sisters to fervor, and to the love of suffering, she received extreme unction, and still communicated every day during the twelve days she survived. She expired soon after receiving the holy sacrament by way of viaticum, on the 25th of May, 1607, being forty-one years, one month, and twenty-four days old, of which she had lived twenty-four years and three months in the religious habit. Her body has been often examined, and always found without any corruption. It is kept in a sumptuous shrine, in the church of her monastery, which was since removed into the city of Florence in 1628 God has honored it by frequent miraculous cures. The saint was beatified by Urban VIII. in the year 1626, and canonized by Clement IX. in 1669.

It was the prayer of this saint, under her severest trials, that she might live only to glorify God by her patience and submission in suffering by his will, and for his sake.* Our love of God must be very imperfect, since we are so impatient under the least trials, and so unwilling to suffer, and since we find the duties of religion troublesome and uneasy. They appear severe in the beginning of a virtuous life; but to him that has conquered, the yoke of Christ is easy, and to fervor and love barsh things become pleasant. It is also the property of a habit to render difficult things easy. For as it becomes a second nature, what flows from it is natural, consequently pleasant and easy. When the love of virtue has once rooted itself in the soul, its practice is no more than embracing and enjoying what we love. This, therefore, is one constant character of perfection in scripture, that delight and pleasure accompany the practice of virtue. The ways of wisdom are the ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.2 And to him that loves, the commandments of God are not grievous.3 Hence it is that the good man’s delight is in the law of the Lord, and he meditates therein night and day.4 Nor does he delight less in action than meditation. The Psalmist frequently expresses an inconceivable joy and transport in the meditation and practice of the commands of God.5 The first Christians, whose lives were a continued fervent exercise of devotion, faith, and charity, are said to have eaten their meat with gladness and singleness of heart.6 The Holy Ghost gives us a delightful description of the apostles, as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, yet possessing all thing.7 Another property of divine love is, that it is always active, and never ceases to exert itself with zeal and fervor in all manner of good works.

MAY 25 — ST. URBAN, POPE AND MARTYR

He succeeded St. Calixtus in the year 223, the third of the emperor Alexander, and sat seven years. Though the church enjoyed peace under that mild reign, this was frequently disturbed by local persecutions raised by the people or governors. In the acts of St. Cecily, this zealous pope is said to have encouraged the martyrs, and converted many idolaters. He is styled a martyr in the sacramentary of St. Gregory, in the Martyrology of St. Jerom published by Florentinius, and in the Greek liturgy. It appears from Fortunatus, and several ancient missals, that the festival of St. Urban was celebrated in France with particular devotion in the sixth age. A very old church stood on the Appian road, dedicated to God in honor of this saint near the place where he was first interred, in the cemetery of Prætextatus. His body was there found, together with those of SS. Cecily, Tiburtius, and Valerian, in 821, and translated by pope Paschal into the church of St. Cecily. Papebroke shows that it is the body of another martyr of the same name, famous in ancient records, which Nicholas I. sent, in 862, to the monks of St. Germanus of Auxerre, and which now adorns the monastery of Saint Urban, in the diocese of Challons on the Marne, near Joinville. It is exposed in a silver shrine.1 See Tillemont, t. 3, p. 258.

MAY 25 — SAINT ADHELM, OR RATHER, ALDHELM, B

He was born among the West-Saxons, and a near relation of king Ina, but had his education under St. Adrian at Canterbury. Maidulf, a pious Irish monk, founded a small poor monastery, called from him Maidulfsbury, corruptly Malmesbury. In this place Aldhelm took the monastic habit, and Maidulf, seeing his great virtue and capacity, resigned to him the abbacy in 675. The saint exceedingly raised its reputation, and increased its building and revenues. The church he dedicated in honor of St. Peter, and added to it two others, the one in honor of the Mother of God, the other of St. Michael. This abbey was rendered by him the most glorious pile of building at that time in the whole island, as Malmesbury testifies, who fills almost the whole second part of the life of this saint with extracts or copies of the donations, charters, and privileges of many kings and princes granted to this house, with an ample indult of pope Sergius, which the saint made a journey to Rome to obtain. He was an enemy to gluttony, avarice, vain-glory, and all idle amusements, and watched assiduously in divine reading and holy prayer. He was the first among our English arcestors who cultivated the Latin and English, or Saxon poesy, as he says of himself. His principal work is a treatise On the praises of virginity.* He inserts at length the high commendations which St. Austin, St. Jerom, and other fathers bestow on that state, and gives abridged examples of many holy virgins. Among other mortifications it was the custom of this saint to recite the psalter in the night, plunged up to the shoulders in water in a neighboring pond. When Hedda, bishop of the West-Saxons, or of Winchester, died, that diocese was divided into two, that of Winchester and that of Sherburn. St. Aldhelm who had been abbot thirty years, was taken out of his cell by force, and consecrated the first bishop of Sherburn, which see was afterwards removed to Salisbury. His behavior in this laborious charge was that of a true successor of the apostles. He died in the visitation of his diocese at Dullinge, in Somersetshire, on the 25th of May, in the year 709, the fifth of his episcopal dignity. William of Malmesbury relates several miracles wrought by him, both while he was living and after his death. His psalter, vestment, and several other memorials were kept in his monastery till the dissolution. This abbey, the glory of Wiltshire, then fell and in it was defaced the sepulchral monument of our great king Athelstan. See William of Malmesbury, in Wharton’s Anglia Sacra, t. 2, p. 1, and L. de Pontif., published by Gale. This latter work contains the history of this abbey. See also Mabillon, Sæc. 3; Ben., part 1, et Append. in Sæc. 4, part 1; and Papebroke, ad 25 Maij.

MAY 25 — ST. GREGORY VII., POPE, C

Before his exaltation to the popedom, he was called Hildebrand. He was born in Tuscany, and educated at Rome under his uncle the abbot of our Lady’s, upon the Aventin hill. He went afterwards into France, and embraced the monastic state at Cluni. Being called back to Rome, he signalized himself by his zeal, sanctity, and learning, and preached with great reputation and fruit in the court of the pious emperor Henry III., surnamed the Black. The holy pope, St. Leo IX., had the highest esteem for him, often followed his counsels, ordained him subdeacon, and made him abbot of St. Paul’s, which church then belonged to a very small community of monks, and lay at that time almost in ruins, the greatest part of its revenues being usurped by powerful laymen. Hildebrand recovered its lands, and restored the monastery to its ancient splendor. In 1054, he was sent by Pope Victor II., legate into France, in order to abolish the practice of simony in the collation of ecclesiastical benefices. He held for this purpose a council at Lyons, in which a certain bishop, who was accused of simony, denied the crime with which he was charged. The legate bade him recite the Glory be to the Father, which the bishop readily endeavored to do. But he was never able to pronounce the name of the Holy Ghost. At this miraculous conviction he was struck with remorse and confusion, and casting himself at the legate’s feet, humbly confessed his crime. This is related by pope Calixtus II., St. Hugh of Cluni, William of Malmesbury, and St. Peter Damian,1 and the last-mentioned author assures us that he had the account from Hildebrand’s own mouth. The legate presided also in the council of Tours, in which Berengarius retracted and condemned the heresy which he had broached relating to the holy eucharist.2 Pope Stephen IV. sent him on an embassy to the empress, and dying, ordered his return to be waited for, and his advice to be followed in the election of a new pope. By his direction, Nicholas II., and after his death, in 1061, Alexander II., were placed in St. Peter’s chair. This latter dying in 1073, Hildebrand, then archdeacon, was by compulsion exalted to the papacy. He left nothing unattempted to keep off that heavy burden from his shoulders, and among other expedients wrote to Henry IV., king of Germany, who was then in Bavaria, entreating him to interpose his authority, in order to prevail that the project of his election might be set aside, declaring, at the same time, that if he were pope he could never tolerate his enormous and scandalous crimes. Notwithstanding this, Henry gave his assent to the saint’s election, and he was consecrated pope on St. Peter’s day. In his letters, he was not able to forbear expressing his most sensible grief, and he with tears implored the succor of the prayers of the whole church for grace and fortitude, that he might be enabled worthily to discharge his functions. Before his ordination he wrote to the pious countesses Beatrice and Mathilda, advising them not to communicate with those bishops of Lombardy who had been convicted of simony, though king Henry espoused their interest, and he intimated to them a design of sending to that prince some pious persons, who should give him wholesome advice, and exhort him to return to his duty.3 The scandals which simony caused in the church, called for an apostolic zeal in the chief pastor to stem the torrent which was breaking into the sanctuary itself. The pope deposed Godfrey, archbishop of Milan, who had obtained that dignity by simony, and, in a council which he held at Rome, enacted a law by which all persons that should be guilty of that sin were declared incapable of receiving any ecclesiastical jurisdiction, and disqualified for holding any benefice whatever. This decree raised great murmurs in Germany, and the archbishop of Mentz was in danger of being murdered for laboring to put it in execution. Notwithstanding this opposition, the pope judged that the more obstinate the evil was, the greater was the necessity of a severe remedy, and he stirred up all zealous pastors, rather to lay down their lives than to be remiss in maintaining the laws of God and his church. He excommunicated Cencius, a rich and powerful nobleman of Rome, and some other persons, for certain notorious crimes. These sinners being incorrigible, grew desperate, and laid violent hands on the pope on Christmas night, in 1075. In committing this outrage, one of them, attempting to strike oft his head, gave him a deep wound, and the mutineers carried him to Cencius’s castle. But the people rescued him the next day, and banished the conspirators. The pope himself recalled and pardoned them, by which mildness he overcame their malice. This storm was not over when he was overtaken by another far more boisterous, from a different quarter. Henry IV., king of Germany, who succeeded his pious father, Henry III., surnamed the Black, in 1056, when he was only ten years old, governed well so long as he followed the counsels of his mother Agnes, and became a good soldier. But having taken the reins into his own hands, he, by several acts of tyranny, alienated first the princes of the empire, and afterwards began grievously to oppress the church. He crushed a powerful rebellion of the Saxons in 1063; but in 1064 the dukes of Suabia, Carinthia, and Bavaria taking up arms, gave him great disturbance, alleging that he had usurped several provinces to which he had no right, and that he had oppressed the liberty of the empire. When Gregory VII. was raised to the papacy. Henry wrote first to his holiness in the style of a humble penitent, condemning himself for having simoniacally sold the benefices of the church, usurped a pretended right of giving the investitures of bishoprics, and grievously abused it in often promoting to ecclesiastical dignities persons most unworthy and unfit. The pope, on his side, had shown an extreme concern for his salvation, had caressed him, and sent him many obliging and tender letters, though always breathing an apostolic zeal. Henry showed by his actions that his pretended repentance was mere hypocrisy, for he continued to repeat the same crimes; and perceiving the inflexible disposition of his holiness, assembled at Worms, on the 23d of January, 1076, a conventicle of simoniacal, time-serving bishops, who presumed to depose him from the pontificate, on pretence of an imaginary nullity in his election. The king sent this mock sentence to the pope at Rome, together with a contumelious better. Gregory, in a council at Rome, declared the king and his schismatical adherents excommunicated, and took upon him to pronounce, that for his tyranny he had forfeited his crown, which he again confirmed in 1080. Many princes of the empire chose Rodolph, duke of Suabia, emperor, in 1077; but that prince proved unfortunate in several battles, and died of the wounds which he received in one of them. Henry, on his side, set up Guibert, the excommunicated archbishop of Ravenna, for antipope; and in 1084, entered Rome with an army, and besieged St. Gregory in the castle Saint Angelo, but was obliged by Robert Guiscard, the Norman, duke of Calabria, to retire, and the Tuscans gave his army a great overthrow in Lombardy.* Three devout princesses were at that time the most strenuous protectresses of the Holy See, namely, Agnes the empress dowager, who, after being removed from the regency during her son’s minority by a faction of the princes, retired to Rome, 1062, and there died, a nun, in 1077. The other two were Maud, or Mathilda, the most pious countess of Tuscany,† and Beatrice, her mother. They were admirers and faithful imitatrices of the virtues of the pope, and were directed by his counsels in the paths of perfection. Amidst these storms, St. Gregory enjoyed a perfect tranquillity of soul, having his heart strongly fixed on God, and adoring in all things his ever-holy will. He received all afflictions cheerfully, knowing them to be the greatest remedy and advancement in the interior man, if the exterior be humbled and beaten by many strokes. The author of the life of St. Anselm of Lucca assures us that his heart seemed perfectly disengaged from all earthly things, and that he attained to so eminent a gift of contemplation, that in the midst of the most distracting affairs, he appeared always recollected, and often fell into raptures. Duke Robert having rescued him from his enemies, conducted him, for greater safety, from Rome to Monte Cassino, and thence to Salerno, where God was pleased to put an end to his labors; for the saint falling sick in that city, he recommended for his successor cardinal Desiderius, abbot of Monte Cassino; and having received the last sacraments in perfect dispositions of resignation and piety, happily exchanged this mortal life for immortality, on the 25th of May, 1085, in the twelfth year of his pontificate. Several contemporary writers bear testimony to many miracles performed by him, or through his intercession, after his death.* See St. Gregory’s epistles, and his exact life in the Bolland. t. 17, p. 113, and Mabillon, sec. 6, Ben.; also Lambert of Aschafnaburg, William of Malmesbury, Platina, Bzovius, &c. See Janning the Bollandist, Junij t. 6, p. 167; Papebroke, t. 6; Maij, p. 70, and Benedict XIV.’s Apology for St. Gregory VII.,1. 1, de Canoniz. Sanctor., c. 41, t. 1; Nat. Alex. sæc. xi. art. 11, and dissert. 2, art. 6, 7; Muratori, Annali d’Italia, t. 12 and 13, The life of St. Gregory VII., by Pandulphus of Pisa, in Muratori, Scriptor. Ital. t. 3, p. 304; also by Paulus Bernriedensis of the same age, with the remarks of Muratori, ib. p. 314.

It may not be amiss to add what Du Pin, a most partial adversary, writes concerning him, when he draws his character: “It must be acknowledged,” says he, “that pope Gregory VII. was an extraordinary genius, capable of great things; constant and undaunted in the execution; well versed in the constitution of his predecessors; zealous for the interests of the Holy See; an enemy to simony and libertinism; (vices which he vigorously opposed;) full of Christian thoughts and of zeal for the reformation of the manners of the clergy; and there is not the least color to think that he was not unblemished in his own morals. This is the judgment which we suppose every one will pass upon him who shall read over his letters with a disinterested and unprejudiced mind. They are penned with a great deal of eloquence, full of good matter, and embellished with noble and pious thoughts, and we boldly say that no pope since Gregory I. wrote such strong and fine letters as this Gregory did.” Du Pin, Cent. 11, ch. 1, pp. 67, 68.

MAY 25 — SS. MAXIMUS, VULGARLY MAUXE, AND VENERAND, MARTYRS IN NORMANDY

According to the modern legend these saints were brothers, natives of Brescia in Italy. The former is said to have been ordained bishop, and the latter deacon, by pope Damasus, and sent by him to preach the faith to the infidels. They first executed their commission in the armies of the barbarians which had crossed the Alps from Germany into Lombardy, but seem to have reaped no other fruit of their labors but the honor of suffering torments for the name of Christ. Having escaped out of the hands of their persecutors, they travelled into France, accompanied by two holy priests named Mark and Etherius. They passed through the cities of Auxerre, Sens, and Paris, and having made a halt at the confluence of the Oise and the Seine, pursued their journey toward Evreux. At Acquiney, a village four leagues from that city, and one from Louviers, they were seized by a troop of barbarous infidels, (or according to others of Arian heretics,) who carried them into a fruitful island formed in that village by the rivers Eure and Itton, and there beheaded them. Mark and Etherius escaped out of the hands of these barbarians who were conducting them to Evreux, and returning buried the bodies of the two martyrs in an old church beyond the island, which had been plundered by the Vandals, and left almost in ruins.* St. Eternus was at that time bishop of Evreux, who, according to all, sat a very short time, and is honored as a martyr at Evreux on the 16th of July, and at Luzarche, a town in the diocese of Paris towards Chantilly, where his relics are kept in a silver shrine, on the 1st of September, and their translation on the 13th of August. He is sometimes called Etherius; whence some think him to have been the companion of our holy martyrs from Italy, who was chosen bishop after their death. He is usually placed about the year 512, after Maurusio, the immediate successor of St. Gaud. Some critics place the mission and martyrdom of our saints and of St. Eternus, or Etherius, soon after the death of St. Taurinus, the founder of the see of Evreux, before St. Gaud, and before many of the people were converted to the faith, which both the end of their mission and their martyrdom render probable; nor have we any authentic monuments which ascertain the time either of their death, or of the episcopacy of St. Eternus.

When Richard I., surnamed the Old, was duke of Normandy, and Guiscard, bishop of Evreux, about the year 960, the relics of SS. Maximus and Venerand were discovered at Acquiney by one Amalbert, who attempted to carry off this sacred treasure, except the heads of the two martyrs, which he left with the old inscription engraved on a marble stone: “Hic sita sunt Corpora SS. Maximi et Venerandi.” As he was crossing the Seine near the monastery of Fontenelle, or St. Vandrille, with the rest of the sacred bones, he was seized with a miraculous sickness, and obliged to deposite them in that famous abbey; and Richard, duke of Normandy, built a new chapel there for their reception.1 These relics were burnt by the Huguenots. Those which remained at Acquiney were kept in a church built over their tomb, which was made a Benedictin priory dependent on the abbey of Conches; but this church falling to decay, by an order of M. de Rochechouard, bishop of Evreux, these relics were translated into the parish church, and deposited under the high altar. On their festival, on the 25th of May, these relics are carried in procession to the place where the saints received the crown of martyrdom. In the spring of the year 1559, in a great drought, they were carried in a solemn procession to the church of our lady at Evreux; and again in June, 1615, when at Evreux, these were carried after the head of Saint Swithin; also in 1726; and each time the procession was followed with abundant rains. SS. Maximus and Venerand are honored with great devotion in the diocese of Evreux, and at the abbey of St. Vandrille. See their history printed at Evreux in 1752; also Le Brasseur, Hist. d’Evreux, pp. 33 and 77, and Trigan, Hist. Ecclésiastique de la Normandie An. 1759, t. 1, p. 79.

MAY 25 — ST. DUMHADE

An Irish or Scottish monk, who being made abbot of Hij, or St. Colum kille’s great monastery, introduced the Roman manner of celebrating Easter After governing that abbey ten years, he died in 717. He is titular sain of the church of Killclocair, in the diocese of Armagh. See Colgan in MSS ad 25 Maij.

MAY 26 — ST. PHILIP NERI, C

From his life, written in 1601, by F. Antony Galloni, one of the most intimate and learned of his disciples five years after his death; and again by James Baccius, printed at Rome, in 1645. See his new life, collected from several other authentic memoirs, printed at Venice in 1727. See also certain corrections of this saint’s history, published at Florence, in 1761, by Dominic Maria Manni, member of the academy of Apatists, and Papebroke, t. 6, Maij, p. 461.

A. D. 1595.

PERFECT charity, which distinguishes all the saints, rendered this great servant of God a bright star in the Church in these later ages. He was born at Florence, in 1515, and was son of Francis Neri, a lawyer, and Lucretia Soldi, both descended of wealthy Tuscan families. From five years of age he was never known in the least little wilfully to transgress the will of his parents. Once indeed, a sister disturbing him on purpose, while he was reciting the psalter with another sister, he gently pushed her away; for which action his father chid him; and this he bewailed with many tears as a great fault. He was very patient in sickness, and so mild that he seemed not to know what anger was. When he was only eleven years old he visited the churches very much, and prayed and heard the word of God with singular devotion. Such was his pity, his reverence, and respect to superiors, and his humility, sweetness, and affability to all, that he was exceedingly beloved, and was commonly called good Philip. Having finished his grammar studies when he was eighteen years of age, he was sent by his father to an uncle, (who lived near mount Cassino, and was very rich by traffic,) not to learn his business, but to be his heir. But Philip, feeling in his soul ardent desires perfectly to follow Jesus Christ, and fearing the dangers of dissipation and of entangling his soul in the world, soon left his uncle, and went to Rome in 1533. There being taken into the house of Galleotto Caccia, a Florentine nobleman, in quality of preceptor to his children, he led so edifying a life that the reputation of his sanctity was spread very wide, and reached Florence. Ordinarily he ate only once a day, and he could hardly be brought to add to bread and water, a few olives and a small quantity of herbs. He spent much time retired in a little chamber, passing sometimes whole nights in prayer; in which exercise he was favored with abundant spiritual delights. His pupils made an admirable progress under his care, both in virtue and learning; and in the mean time he studied philosophy and divinity in such a manner as to distinguish himself in the schools. Everybody sought his acquaintance, but in this particular he was very cautious and reserved, for fear of falling into bad company, or at least of losing any part of his precious time. It is the observation of a modern philosopher, that one quarter of an hour a day given to superfluous or unprofitable conversation, amounts to a very considerable part of the longest life, in which the necessities of age and nature make always large abatements, and reduce action to a short span, in which we are to lay in provisions for eternity. This reflection made the saint extremely solicitous to husband well all his moments. Philip gave to his neighbor only that time which duty, mutual edification, and charity required.

He was moreover sensible that even saints complain that they return from company less fit for prayer, and seldom without some wounds in their soul; and that the idle conversation of the world always blows upon our hearts that contagious air of vanity, pride, and love of pleasure which it breathes; and which is always so much the more dangerous, as its poison is the more secret. Notwithstanding his precautions, the devil found means to play upon him his wicked agents. Certain lewd young men made an assault upon his chastity by impudent discourse; but he spoke to them with so much piety and strength that he softened their hardened hearts into compunction, and converted them to God. Against temptations he armed himself by prayer, fasting, and humility; yet he sometimes felt assaults on buffets of the flesh till fifty years of age; but for the thirty last years of his life was as free from all rebellion of that domestic enemy as if he had been without a body, as he declared to cardinal Baronius; pouring forth, at the same time, a torrent of tears for his sloth and ingratitude in making no return to God, as he said, for the grace by which he had always preserved his virginity spotless in mind and body. He practised a universal mortification of his senses, often even in the smallest things; saying that frequent self-denial in little things is necessary for us, that we may conquer in greater conflicts. To such a degree did he carry his love of holy poverty, that when he came first to Rome he would accept of nothing from his fond father but two or three shirts; and he kept nothing in his little room but a poor bed, a few books, and a little linen, which hung upon a cord against the wall. To all kinds of pastime he was an utter stranger, contriving to find necessary relaxation and exercise in works of charity or devotion, as in going from one church to another, and visiting hospitals. Even during the course of his studies he gave a great deal of his time to prayer, and every day visited all, or at least some of the seven churches appointed to be visited by pilgrims, which are several miles asunder, and some of them without the city.* He often spent the whole night in prayer before the door of some private church, and especially over the relics of the martyrs in the cemetery of Calixtus; often, when overpowered by sleep, he took a little rest on the ground in a porch of one of the seven churches. While he was yet a young student in philosophy, he never called to mind the sufferings of Christ, or reflected on the sins and ingratitude of men, or cast his eyes upon a crucifix, without melting into tears. After he completed the course of his theology, he took some time for the study of the holy scriptures, and of the fathers, the two sources and eyes of that science. The canons and laws of the church, containing the precepts and admonitions of her pastors and councils, are a necessary and excellent rule for the direction of manners among Christians; and a skill in some parts of the canon law is very requisite in a pastor of souls. St. Philip therefore made the study of the canon law a part of his care; and became in a short time an oracle in all sacred studies, to whom many learned professors resorted for advice in their difficulties. The saint always recommended and promoted exceedingly these studies among his disciples; and to encourage them, he afterwards commanded his pious and learned scholar Cæsar Baronius,* who had entered the oratory of St. Philip at eighteen years of age, to compile his annals of the church; in the beginning of which work he was to him a great assistance, and a daily spur, as Baronius acknowledges,1 who calls him the first author and original contriver of his annals.

St. Philip was one of the best scholars of the age; but being desirous to approach nearer and nearer to Jesus Christ, whose sweet attractions he continually felt in his soul, at twenty-three years of age he sold even his books for the relief of the poor. Often in prayer he was so overwhelmed with spiritual joy and sweetness as not to be able to stand. Sometimes he was heard, as he lay prostrate on the ground, to cry out: “Enough, O Lord, enough; withhold a little at present, I beseech you, the torrent of your sweetness” And another time: “Depart from me, O Lord; depart from me. I am yet a mortal man, and am not able to bear such an abundance of celestial joy. Behold I die, my dear Lord, unless you succor me.” He used often to say: “O God, seeing you are so infinitely amiable, why have you given us but one heart to love you, and this so little and so narrow?” It is believed that if God had not, on such occasions, abated or withdrawn his consolations, he must have died through excess of joy, as he himself averred. Humility made him most industrious to conceal his knowledge or science, and much more the extraordinary gifts of grace; for he in all things sought his own contempt. Had not his heart been perfectly empty of itself, the divine love could never have found room in it to overflow in such abundance. So impetuous and so sensible was this love in his breast, that it frequently discovered itself in a wonderful manner in his countenance, and in the violent palpitation of his heart. For as St. Francis of Sales shows in his book of the Love of God, and as experience convinces, violent affections of the mind produce strange effects upon the body.† Galloni testifies that the divine love so much dilated the breast of our saint in an extraordinary rapture, that the gristle which joined the fourth and fifth ribs on the left side was broken; which accident allowed the heart and the larger vessels more play; in which condition he lived fifty years. In the midst of a great city, he led for some years almost the life of a hermit. For a long time he ate only bread with a few olives, herbs, or an apple, drank only water, and lay on the bare floor. His earnest desire of loving God more perfectly, by being united to him in glory, made him languish continually after that blessed hour when his soul should be freed from the prison of his body, and taking her flight to its origin and centre, should drown itself in the ocean of all good. He was wont to say, that to one that truly loveth God, nothing can happen more grievous than delays of his enjoyment, and than life itself. But then the will of God, and the love of penance and suffering, made this delay itself a subject of comfort, in which he also rejoiced with St. Pau1,2 inasmuch as by living on earth he was able still to labor in bringing souls to God.

His insatiable zeal for the salvation of others drew him often to the exchange change and other public places in the city, to seek opportunities of gaining some soul to God, or at least of preventing some sin; in which he did wonders, and while yet a layman quite changed the face of several public places. He often visited the hospitals, there to comfort, exhort, and serve the sick. He lamented to see the custom of waiting on poor sick persons disused in the world; a practice extremely conducive to inspire sentiments of humility and charity. He therefore desired very much to revive it, and with that view commenced the confraternity of the Blessed Trinity in Rome, with the assistance of his confessarius, who was a very holy priest, named Persiano Rosa. He laid the first foundation of this pious establishment with fourteen companions, in 1548, in the church of our Saviour Del-Campo. He settled the most admirable economy and good order for receiving, serving, and instructing the sick and pilgrims. In this place St. Philip made pious discourses, and held conferences several times every day, and often till late at night, by which he reclaimed great numbers from vice, and conducted many to an eminent perfection. In the year of the jubilee 1550, he translated this confraternity to the church of the Holy Trinity, and erected a new hospital under the name of the Blessed Trinity, which to this day subsists in the most flourishing condition, and is one of the best regulated hospitals in the world. Several cardinals and princes come thither out of devotion in the evenings, to wash the feet, and to serve with their own hands the pilgrims, and especially the sick. Sometimes six hundred waiters on an evening are assembled together to this act of humility. The ladies wait on the female patients in another hospital. St. Philip, not content with the care of hospitals, laid himself out in relieving the distressed in all parts of the city. It happened that as he was carrying an alms in a stormy night for secrecy, he fell into a deep ditch; but was preserved by God from receiving any hurt.

Humility made the saint sometimes think of devoting himself to the service of God in a laical state. But being desirous to employ his labors in the best manner he could in the care of souls, he deliberated with himself what state to choose for this end. On this occasion he was not only persuaded, but most urgently pressed and compelled by his confessor Rosa, to enter into holy orders. After a long preparation, he was ordained priest in June, 1551, being thirty-six years old almost complete. From which time he chose his dwelling in a small community, at the church of St. Jerom, where Rosa and certain other very virtuous priests lived. Every one ate by himself, and fasted according to his strength and devotion. Here Philip mitigated the austerities of his former life, and allowed himself a slender breakfast in the morning; and for his supper a couple of eggs, or a mess of broth, or a few herbs or beans; he seldom ate any flesh, and rarely fish. But when he ate abroad, which was very seldom, he took what was set before him, to avoid singularity; but never touched more than one thing: and seemed to eat without any relish for his food. He lived in a little unfurnished room, attending only to his devotions and to the winning of souls to God. In saying his first mass he was so overpowered with spiritual consolations, that on account of the shaking of his hands and whole body, he was scarce able to pour the wine and water into the chalice; and this continued during the rest of the sacrifice, especially at the elevation and communion, and he was often obliged to lean on the altar, being otherwise in danger of falling down. He said mass every day, unless hindered by some grievous sickness, and then he always received the holy communion. He often fell into raptures at the altar, particularly after communicating, also after mass. On this account, he was sometimes two hours in saying mass; for which reason, towards the end of his life, he performed that function privately in a domestic chapel. The delight be found in receiving the holy sacrament is inexpressible. The very remembrance of that divine banquet, when he took an empty chalice into his hand, made him melt in tender sentiments of love. Galloni mentions several extraordinary raptures with which the saint was favored in prayer and testifies that his body was sometimes seen raised from the ground during his devotions some yards high,3 at which time his countenance appeared shining with a bright light.*

St. Philip was not less eminent in zeal for the divine honor and in charity for men, than in the gifts of contemplation. Soon after he had received the priesthood, he was ordered by his superiors and confessarius to hear confessions, for which function he was, by a long preparation, excellently qualified. And so great was his desire of gaining souls to God, that he was never weary of this employment; though beginning early in the morning, he often spent in it almost the whole day. Even after mass, when called to this duty, he contented himself with a short thanksgiving, and went immediately to attend this office of charity, preferring the comfort of others to his own most favorite time of devotion. Nor is it credible how many souls he drew out of the mire of sin, and moved to embrace a life of singular perfection. Charity taught him innumerable devices to win the most hardened. The sight of a Jew, who happened one day to speak to him, pierced him with so deep a sentiment of compassion for his soul, that for three whole weeks he never ceased weeping and praying for him till he saw him baptized. By displaying the terrors of death and the divine judgments, he softened the most obdurate sinners if they once listened to him. Those who shunned him for fear of the remedy of their spiritual diseases, he often gained by addressing himself to God in their behalf in fervent prayers. One he converted by desiring him to say seven times every day the Salve Regina, kissing the ground in the end, and adding these words: To-morrow I may be among the dead. Those that were engaged in criminal habits, he cured by enjoining them every evening, with some prayer, a short reflection on death, or a short representation to themselves of a soul in hell, and an imaginary entertainment or dialogue with her on her state, on eternity, the emptiness and extravagance of sin, and the like; or such a representation of a person dying, or of a carcass laid in the grave. He had an excellent talent for exciting penitents to compunction, and in inspiring them with a sovereign abhorrence of all sin; also with assisting them to discover the occasions and sources of sin, and to cut them off. In this consists very much the fruit of repentance; the occasions and approaches of the evil must be retrenched; the cancer must be entirely extirpated, with every string of its root; the least fibre left behind will push forth again, and with more vigor than before. Here the penitent must not spare himself, whatever it costs him; though he part with an eye or a foot. It is by the neglect of this precaution that so many conversions are false and counterfeit; and that relapses are so frequent. Our skilful director was careful to lay the axe to the root; and not content to draw souls out of Sodom, he obliged them to quit the neighborhood, and fly to the mountains, to the greatest distance from the danger. With this precaution, the other remedies which he applied all produced their desired effect. The saint, by the lights which the purity of his affections and his spirit of prayer were the means of obtaining, and by his learning and singular experience in the paths of virtue, conducted fervent souls in the maxims of heroic perfection. He sometimes miraculously penetrated the secrets of the hearts of others; and in particular knew hidden sins of impurity by the stench which such sinners exhaled, as several testified after his death. To one he said, that “he perceived such a horrid stench to come from the person infected with this filthy vice, that he never found any thing so noisome.” To some who had criminally concealed such sins in confession, he said: “To me you cast forth an ill savour; you are fallen into such a sin of impurity; east out the poison by confession.” His thirst for the salvation of souls made him earnestly desire to go to the Indies; but he was dissuaded by those whom he consulted, who told him that Rome was his Indies; a large field for all his zeal and labor, which would furnish him with an ample harvest.

The saint received all that resorted to him in his chamber, and was wont to instruct them by daily conferences, with incredible unction and fruit. Evil eyes could not bear so great a light; and certain envious and malicious persons derided his devotion at mass, and his other actions, and by the most contumelious discourse, and outrageous slanders, insulted his person, and blackened his reputation; all which he bore with meekness and silence, never once opening his mouth in his own defence, or complaining of any one, but rejoicing to see himself meet with scorn and contempt. Often when he was reviled he exulted with joy. One of these slanderers was so moved by seeing the cheerfulness of the saint’s countenance, and his invincible patience, while another cursed and reproached him in the most bitter terms, that he was converted upon the spot, undertook the defence of the servant of God, and entered upon a penitential and edifying course of life. The author of all these injuries and affronts, moved also at the saint’s patience and mildness, of his own accord came to him, and upon his knees begged his pardon, which St. Philip willingly granted him; and most kindly embracing him, received him into the number of his children. The man of God said, that if we ask of God patience and humility, we ought to rejoice and thank him when he sendeth us occasions of exercising those virtues, which are not to be obtained but by crosses and frequent acts of them. Another time, when he had opened his oratory, certain persons accused him of pride and ambition, and that he loved and affected to be followed by the people. Upon which complaints the vicar of Rome gave him a sharp reprimand, forbade him to hear confessions for fifteen days, and to preach without a new license he moreover threatened him with imprisonment, if he did not leave his new ways of proceeding. The saint modestly answered, that he was most ready to obey his superiors in whatever they should command him. He excused the authors of his troubles in the best manner he was able, and with cheerfulness said to his friends, that God had permitted him to be so treated that he might become humble. By his patience and modesty this storm blew over, and after an inquiry into his conduct, leave was given him to live after his wonted manner, and to draw sinners to God by such means as his prudence should suggest. After which, his chamber began to be frequented by many of the prime nobility, to the singular profit of their souls. His charity for all seemed to have no bounds; but when he did but look on notorious wicked men, he could hardly contain the abundance of tears which compassion moved him to shed.

Desiring by all means in his power to help his neighbor, he, by his conferences, laid the foundation of the Congregation of Oratorians, in 1551. Several priests and young ecclesiastics associating themselves with him, began to assist him in his conferences, and in reading prayers and meditations to the people in the church of the Holy Trinity. They were called Oratorians, because at certain hours every morning and afternoon, by ringing a bell, they called the people to the church, to prayers and meditations. In 1564, when the saint had formed his Congregation into a regular community, he preferred several of his young ecclesiastics to holy orders; one of whom was the famous Cæsar Baronius, whom for his eminent sanctity Benedict XIV., by a decree dated on the 12th of January, 1745, honored with the title of Venerable Servant of God. At the same time he formed his disciples into a community, using one common purse and table, and he gave them rules and statutes. He forbade any of them to bind themselves to this state by tow or oath, that all might live together joined only by the bands of fervor and holy charity; laboring with all their strength to establish the kingdom of Christ in themselves by the most perfect sanctification of their own souls, and to propagate the same in the souls of others, by preaching, instructing the ignorant, and teaching the Christian doctrine. The general he appointed to be triennial; but was himself, much against his will, chosen general for life, though he afterwards found means to obtain a release from that burden, by alleging his age and infirmities. This happened in 1595, when Baronius was chosen his successor, though that great man left nothing unattempted to remove the burden from his shoulders.10

St. Philip, who dated the foundation of his oratory in 1574, obtained of pope Gregory XIII. the approbation of his Congregation in 1575. Its constitutions were afterwards confirmed by Paul V., in 1612. The same Gregory XIII. bestowed on the saint the church of our Lady of Vallicella, which was new-built in a finished taste by exquisite architects, whence it is called the New Church. St. Philip took possession of it in 1583; but his Congregation still continued to serve also the hospital of pilgrims of the Holy Trinity. The saint lived to see many houses of his Oratory erected at Florence, Naples, San Severino, Anxur, Lucca, Firmo, Panormo, Fano, Padua, Vicenza, Ferrara, Thonon, &c.* He established among his followers the rule of obedience, and a total abnegation of their own will, saying. “This is the shortest and most assured way to attain to perfection.” He was so great a lover of poverty, that he earnestly desired always to live destitute of worldly goods, and in a suffering state of indigence. He strictly ordained that none of his Congregation should have to do with the purse of their penitents, saying: “It is impossible to gain both their souls and their goods.” This holy man lived equally reverenced and beloved by the popes Pius IV. and V., Gregory XIII. and XIV., and Clement VIII., and by other great men, particularly by St. Charles Borromeo. Among other miracles, when he himself lay sick of a fever, and his life seemed despaired of, he was suddenly restored to health by a vision of the Blessed Virgin, in which he fell into a wonderful rapture, and cried out: “O most holy Mother of God, what have I done that you should vouchsafe to come to me?” Coming to himself, he said unawares to four physicians that were present: ‘Did not you see the Blessed Mother of God, who by her visit hath driven away my distemper?” But immediately perceiving that he had discovered his vision, he besought them not to disclose it to any one. This was attested upon oath by Galloni and four physicians that were present. Under the sharpest paine in his sickness, no complaint, groan, or stir, ever was observed in him; only he was sometimes heard softly to repeat these words: Adauge dolorem, sed adauge patientiam, increase my pains, but increase withal my patience. On several occasions he exactly foretold things to come. Baronius and others testified that they had heard several predictions from his mouth which the events always confirmed.

St. Philip was of a sickly constitution, and was usually visited every year by one or two sharp fevers, which sometimes held him a long time; yet he lived to a good old age. In 1595 he lay all the month of April sick of a very violent fever; and in the beginning of May was taken with a vomiting of blood, discharging a very large quantity. Cæsar Baronius gave him extreme unction; and when the hæmorrhage had ceased, cardinal Frederick Borromeo brought him the viaticum. When the saint saw the cardinal entering his chamber with the holy sacrament, to the amazement of all that were present, he cried out with a loud voice and abundance of tears: “Behold my Love, my Love! He comes, the only delight of my soul. Give me my Love quickly.” He repeated with the cardinal, in the most tender sentiments of devotion and love, those words, Domine nun sum dignus; adding, “I was never worthy to be fed with thy body; nor have I ever done any good at all.” After receiving the viaticum, he said: “I have received my physician into my lodging.” He had procured many masses to be said for him, and in two or three days seemed perfectly recovered, said mass every day, heard confessions as usual, and enjoyed a good state of health. He foretold to several persons, and frequently, his approaching death, and the very day of it, as they declared upon oath.11 On the three last days of his life, he was overwhelmed with more than ordinary spiritual love, especially on the day that he died, on which he counted every hour, waiting for the end of the day, which he foresaw to be the moment in which his soul would ingulf itself into the ocean of immortal bliss. Being taken with another fit of vomiting blood, Baronius reading the recommendation of the soul, he with great tranquillity expired just after midnight, between the 25th and 26th of May, 1595, being near fourscore and two years old. His body was opened, and the place where his ribs were burst, and the skin projected to the bigness of a man’s fist, was seen by many. His heart and bowels were buried among his brethren, but his body was enshrined, and found uncorrupted seven years after. One Austin Magistrius, who for many years had been troubled with loathsome running ulcers in his neck, which physicians had judged incurable, hearing of the death of the saint, went to the church where his body was exposed; and after praying long before his hearse, applied his blessed hands to his sore neck and found himself immediately cured, which miracle five eye-witnesses attested upon oath. Other like miracles, several testified by the oaths of the parties, are related by Galloni the disciple of the saint, and an assistant of Baronius in compiling his annals; also by Baccius and others. Seven years after the saint’s death, in 1602, Nerus de Nigris, a Florentine gentleman, built a sumptuous chapel, beautified with costly ornaments, in the church of the Oratory, and the holy man’s body, which was found entire, was removed into it. Many miracles were wrought at his tomb, and by his intercession.12 He was canonized by Gregory XV. in 1622.

St. Philip, inflamed with the love of God and a desire of praising him worthily, after offering him all the affections of his soul, and the homages of all his creatures, seeing in their poverty and inability nothing equal to his infinite greatness, comforted himself in finding in the mass a means of glorifying him by a victim worthy of himself. This he offered to him with inexpressible joy, devotion, and humility, to praise and honor his holy name, to be a sacrifice of perfect thanksgiving for his infinite benefits, of expiation for sin, and of impetration to obtain all graces. Hence in this sacrifice he satiated the ardent desires of his zeal, and found such an excess of overflowing love and sweetness in the closest union of his soul with his divine Redeemer.

MAY 26 — SAINT AUGUSTINE, B. C. APOSTLE OF THE ENGLISH

From Bede, b. 1, ch. 23, &c., and the letters and life of St. Gregory

A. D. 604

THE Saxons, English, and Jutes, pagan Germans, who in this island began in 454 to expel the old Britons into the mountainous part of the country, had reigned here about one hundred and fifty years, when God was pleased to open their eyes to the light of the gospel.* St. Gregory the Great, before his pontificate, had desired to become himself their apostle; but was hindered by the people of Rome, who would by no means suffer him to leave that city. This undertaking, however, he had very much at heart, and never ceased to recommend to God the souls of this infidel nation. When he was placed in the apostolic chair, he immediately turned his thoughts towards this abandoned part of the vineyard, and resolved to send thither a select number of zealous laborers. For this great work none seemed better qualified than Augustine, then prior of St. Gregory’s monastery, dedicated to St. Andrew in Rome. Him, therefore, the pope appointed superior of this mission, allotting him several assistants, who were Roman monks. The powers of hell trembled at the sight of this little troop, which marched against them armed only with the cross, by which they had been stripped of their empire over men. Zeal and obedience gave these saints courage, and they set out with joy upon an expedition, of which the prize was to be either the conquest of a new nation to Christ, or the crown of martyrdom for themselves. But the devils found means to throw a stumbling-block in their way. St. Gregory had recommended them to several French bishops on their road, of whom they were to learn the circumstances of their undertaking, and prepare themselves accordingly. But when the missionaries were advanced several days’ journey, probably as far as Aix in Provence, certain persons, with many of those to whom they were addressed, exaggerated to them the ferocity of the English people, the difference of manners, the difficulty of the language, the dangers of the sea, and other such obstacles, in such a manner that they deliberated whether it was prudent to proceed: the result of which consultation was that Augustine should be deputed back to St. Gregory to lay before him these difficulties, and to beg leave for them to return to Rome The pope, well apprized of the artifices of the devil, saw in these retardments themselves greater motives of confidence in God; for where the enemy is most active, and obstacles seem greatest in the divine service, there we have reason to conclude that the work is of the greater importance, and that the success will be the more glorious. Souls are never prepared for an eminent virtue and the brightest crowns, but by passing through great trials. This, though often immediately owing to the malice of the devil, is permitted by God, and is an effect of his all-wise providence to raise the fervor of his servants for the exceeding increase of their virtue. St. Gregory, therefore, sent Augustine back with a letter of encouragement to the rest of the missionaries, representing to them the cowardice of abandoning a good work when it is begun; exhorting them not to listen to the evil suggestions of railing men, and expressing his desire of the happiness of bearing them company, and sharing in their labors, had it been possible. The temptation being removed, the apostolic laborers pursued their journey with great alacrity, and, taking some Frenchmen for interpreters along with them,* landed in the Isle of Thanet, on the east side of Kent, in the year 596, being, with their interpreters, near forty persons. From this place St. Augustine sent to Ethelbert, the powerful king of Kent, signifying that he was come from Rome, and brought him a most happy message, with an assured divine promise of a kingdom which would never have an end. The king ordered them to remain in that island, where he took care they should be furnished with all necessaries, while he deliberated what to do. This great prince held in subjection all the other English kings who commanded on this side the Humber, nor was he a stranger to the Christian religion; for his queen Bertha, a daughter of Caribert, king of Paris, was a Christian, and had with her Luidhard, bishop of Senlis, for her director and almoner. After some days, the king went in person to the isle, but sat in the open air to admit Augustine to his presence; for he had a superstitious notion that if he came with any magical spell, this would have an effect upon him under the cover of a house, but could have none in the open fields. The religious men came to him in procession, “carrying for their banner a silver cross, and an image of our Saviour painted on a board; and singing the litany as they walked, made humble prayer for themselves, and for the souls of those to whom they came.” Being admitted into the presence of the king, they announced to him the word of life. His majesty listened attentively; but answered, that their words and promises indeed were fair, but new, and to him uncertain: however, that since they were come a great way for his sake, they should not be molested, nor hindered from preaching to his subjects He also appointed them necessary subsistence, and a dwelling-place in Canterbury, the capital city of his dominions. They came thither in procession, singing, and imitated the lives of the apostles, serving God in prayer, watching, and fasting; despising the things of this world, as persons who belonged to another, and ready to suffer or die for the faith which they preached There stood near the city an old church of St. Martin, left by the Britons. In this was the queen accustomed to perform her devotions, and in it the apostolic preachers began to meet, sing, say mass, preach, and baptize, till the king being converted, they had license to repair and build churches everywhere. Several among the people were converted, and received the holy sacrament of regeneration; and in a short time the king himself, whose conversion was followed by innumerable others.

Bede says that St. Augustine after this went back to Arles to Etherius, bishop of that city, from whose hands he received the episcopal consecration; but for Etherius we must read Virgilius, who was at that time archbishop of Arles, Etherius being bishop of Lyons.* The reason why he went so far, seems to have been because the archbishop of Arles was not only primate, but apostolic legate in Gaul; and Augustine probably wanted his advice in many things. The saint had baptized the king, and was himself ordained bishop before October, 597, within the space of one year; for the letter of St. Gregory to encourage the missionaries in France to proceed, was dated on the 10th of August, 596. In 598 the same pope wrote to Eulogius, patriarch of Alexandria, that Augustine had been ordained bishop, with his license, by the German prelates; so he calls the French, because they came from Germany. He adds, “In the last solemnity of our Lord’s nativity, more than ten thousand of the English nation were baptized by this our brother and fellow-bishop.”

St. Augustine, immediately after his return into Britain, sent Laurence and Peter to Rome to solicit a supply of more laborers, and they brought over several excellent disciples of pope Gregory; among whom were Mellitus, the first bishop of London; Justus, the first bishop of Rochester; Paulinus, the first archbishop of York, and Rufinianus, the third abbot of Augustine’s. “With this colony of new missionaries, the holy pope sent all things in general for the divine worship and the service of the church, viz. sacred vessels, altar-cloths, ornaments for churches, and vestments for priests and clerks, relics of the holy apostles and martyrs, and many books,” as Bede writes.1 St. Augustine wrote frequently to St. Gregory, whom he consulted in the least difficulties which occurred in his ministry; which shows the tenderness of his conscience; for in many things which he might have decided by his own learning and prudence, he desired to render his conscience more secure by the advice and decision of his chief pastor. The same pope wrote to the abbot Mellitus,2 directing the idols to be destroyed, and their temples to be changed into Christian churches, by purifying and sprinkling them with holy water, and erecting altars, and placing relics in them; thus employing the spoils of Egypt to the service of the living God. He permits the celebration of wakes on the anniversary feasts of the dedications of the churches, and on the solemnities of the martyrs, to be encouraged among the people, the more easily to withdraw them from their heathenish riotous festivals.

The good king Ethelbert labored himself in promoting the conversion of his subjects during the twenty remaining years of his life; he enacted wholesome laws, abolished the idols, and shut up their temples throughout his dominions. He thought he had gained a kingdom when he saw one of his subjects embrace the faith, and looked upon himself as king only that he might make the King of kings be served by others. He built Christ-church, the cathedral in Canterbury, upon the same spot where had formerly stood a heathenish temple. He also founded the abbey of SS. Peter and Paul without the walls of that city, since called St. Augustine’s, the church of St. Andrew in Rochester, &c. He brought over to the faith Sebert, the pious king of the East Saxons, and Redwald, king of the East Angles, though the latter, Samaritan-like, worshipped Christ with his idols. Ethelbert reigned fifty-six years, and departed to our Lord in 616. He was buried in the abbey-church of SS. Peter and Paul, which himself had founded. He had been baptized in the church of St. Pancras, which St Augustine had dedicated, and which had been a pagan temple, on that very spot where he built soon after Christ-church, as is mentioned in an old manuscript preserved in the library of Trinity Hall in Cambridge, quoted by Spelman3 and Tyrrel. St. Ethelbert is commemorated in the Roman Martyrology on the 24th of February.

St. Gregory, in the year 600, sent, with many noble presents, a letter of congratulation and of excellent advice to king Ethelbert. He in the same year sent to St. Augustine the archiepiscopal pall, with authority to ordain twelve bishops, who should be subject to his metropolitan see; ordering that when the northern English should have embraced the faith, he should ordain a bishop of York, who should likewise be a metropolitan with twelve suffragan bishops. But particular circumstances afterwards required some alterations in the execution of this order. The fame of many miracles wrought by St. Augustine in the conversion of the English having reached Rome, St. Gregory wrote to him,4 exhorting him to beware of the temptation of pride or vain-glory, in the great miracles and heavenly gifts which God showed in the nation which he had chosen. “Wherefore,” says he, “amidst those things which you exteriorly perform, always interiorly judge yourself, and thoroughly understand both what you are yourself, and how great a grace is given in that nation for the conversion of which you have even received the gift of working miracles. And if you remember that you have ever at any time offended your Creator either by word or deed, always have that before your eyes, to the end that the remembrance of your guilt may crush the vanity rising in your heart. And whatever you shall receive or have received in relation to the working of miracles, esteem the same not as conferred on you, but on those for whose salvation it hath been given you.” He observes to him, that when the disciples returned with joy and said to our Lord, In thy name be the devils subject unto us, they presently received a rebuke; rejoice not in this, but rather that your names are written in heaven.

St. Augustine ordained St. Mellitus bishop of the East Saxons in London, and St. Justus, bishop of Rochester; and seeing the faith now spread wide on every side, he took upon him, by virtue of his metropolitan and legatine authority, which the pope had conferred upon him over all the bishops of Britain, to make a general visitation of his province. He desired very much to see the ancient Britons, whom the English had driven into the mountains of Wales, reclaimed from certain abuses which had crept in among them, and to engage them to assist him in his labors in converting the English. But malice and an implacable hatred against that nation blinded their understandings and hardened their hearts. However, being on the confines of the Wiccians and West-Saxons, that is, on the edge of Worcestershire, not far from Wales, he invited the British bishops and doctors to a conference. They met him at a place which was called, at the time when Bede wrote Augustine’s Oak.* The zealous apostle employed both entreaties and exhortations, and required of them three things: First, That they should assist him in preaching the gospel to the pagan English: Secondly, That they should observe Easter at the due time: and, Thirdly, That they should agree with the universal church in the manner of administering baptism. But they obstinately refused to comply with his desires. Whereupon St. Augustine proposed, by a divine impulse, that a sick or impotent person should be brought in, and that their tradition should be followed, as agreeable to God, by whose prayer he should be cured. The condition was accepted, though very unwillingly; and a blind man was brought, and presented first to the British priests, but found no benefit by their prayers or other endeavors. Then Augustine bowed his knees to God, praying that by restoring the sight to this blind man, he would make his spiritual light shine on the souls of many Upon which the blind man immediately recovered his sight, and the Britons confessed that they believed that the doctrine which Augustine preached was the truth; but said, that without the general consent of their nation they could not quit their ancient rites and customs. Wherefore they desired that a general synod of their country should be held. Accordingly, a second more numerous council was assembled, in which appeared several British bishops (their annals say seven) and many learned men, especially from the monastery of Bangor, which stood in Plintshire, not far from the river Dee: not in the city of Bangor, in Carnarvonshire. A little before they came, they sent to consult a famous hermit among them, whether they should receive Augustine or reject his admonitions, and retain their ancient usages. He bade them so to contrive it, that Augustine and his company should come first to the place of the synod, and said, that if he should arise when they approached they should look upon him as humble, and should hear and obey him; but if he should not rise to them that were more in number, then they should despise him. They took this ignorant and blind direction, and instead of weighing the justice and equity of the archbishop’s demands, his right, and the truth of his doctrine, committed this important decision to a trifling casual circumstance or punctilio. They had before confessed that he taught the truth, and he had convinced them both by reasons and a miracle, that he only required of them what charity and obedience to the church in points of discipline obliged them to; nevertheless, revenge and malice against the English made them still stand out and have recourse to the most idle pretence.† Strong endeavors to do wrong God usually punishes with success. It so happened that when they entered the place of the synod, Augustine did not rise from his seat; whether this was done by inadvertence, or because it might be the custom of the countries where he had been not to use those compliments in public places, at least in synods, any more than in churches. But whatever was the occasion, nothing could be more unreasonable than the conclusion which the Britons drew from this circumstance. Had the inference been just, the archbishop did not lose his right, nor was his doctrine the less true. His humility and charity were otherwise conspicuous. He was come so far for their sake, and out of humility was accustomed to travel on foot. Nor did he in this conference mention his own dignity or authority: he seems even to have waived the point of his primacy; which from his charity we cannot doubt but he would have been glad to have procured leave to resign to their own archbishop of St. David’s, had the Britons been willing on such terms to have conformed to the discipline of the universal church, and lay aside their rancor against the English. However, upon this ridiculous pretence did that nation remain obstinate in their malice.* Which St. Augustine seeing, he foretold them, that “if they would not preach to the English the way of life, they would fall by their hands under the judgment of death.” This prediction was not fulfilled till after the death of St. Augustine, as Bede expressly testifies,5 when Ethilfrid, king of the northern English, who were yet pagans, gave the Britons a terrible overthrow near Caer-legion, or Chester, and seeing the monks of Bangor praying at a distance, he cried out after the victory: “If they pray against us, they fight against us by their hostile imprecations.” And rushing upon them with his army, he slew twelve hundred of them, or, according to Florence of Worcester, two thousand two hundred. For so numerous was this monastery, that being divided into seven companies, under so many superiors, each division consisted of at least three hundred monks, and while some were at work, others were at prayer. Their obstinate refusal of the essential obligation of charity towards the English was a grievous crime, and drew upon them this chastisement; but we hope the sin extended no further than to some of the superiors. This massacre was predicted by St. Augustine as a divine punishment; but those who accuse him as an instigator of it are strangers to the spirit and bowels of most tender charity which the saint bore towards all the world, who knew no other arms against impenitent sinners and persecutors than those of compassion, and tears and prayers for their conversion. And long before the accomplishment of this threat and prophecy in 607, St. Augustine was translated to glory,* as appears from several circumstances related by Bede himself, though the year of his death is not expressed by that historian, nor in his epitaph, which seems composed before the custom of counting dates by the æra of Christ was introduced in this island, though it began to be used at Rome by Dionysius Exiguus, an abbot, in 550

St. Augustine, while yet living, ordained Laurence his successor in the see of Canterbury, not to leave at his death an infant church destitute of a pastor.† He died on the 26th of May; and as William Thorn says, from a very ancient book of his life, in the same year with St. Gregory, viz. 604 which Mr. Wharton proves from several other authorities.6 Goscelin, a monk of Canterbury, in 1096, besides two lives of St. Augustine, compiled a book of his miracles wrought since his death, and a history of the translation of his relics in 1091, which was accompanied with several miracles, to which this author was an eye-witness. This work is given at length by Papebroke on this day. The second council of Cloveshoe, that is, Cliffe in Kent, in 747, under archbishop Cuthbert, Ethelbald, king of Mercia, being present, commanded7 his festival to be kept a holiday by all the clergy and religious,* and the name of St. Augustine to be recited in the Litany immediately after that of St. Gregory.

The body of St. Augustine was deposited abroad till the church of SS. Peter and Paul, near the walls of Canterbury, which king Ethelbert built for the burying-place of the kings and archbishops, was finished; when it was laid in the porch, with this epitaph, which is preserved by Camden in his Remains,8 and by Weever in his Funeral Monuments.9 “Here rests lord Augustine, first archbishop of Canterbury, who being sent hither by the blessed Gregory, bishop of Rome, and by God upheld by the working of miracles,10 brought king Ethelbert and his nation from idolatry to the faith of Christ, and having completed the days of his office in peace, died on the seventh day before the calends of June, in the reign of the same king.” In the same porch were interred also the six succeeding archbishops, Laurence, Mellitus, Justus, Honorius, Deusdedit, and Theodorus; these in their epitaph are called the seven patriarchs of England. The porch being by that time full, and the custom beginning to allow persons of eminent dignity and sanctity to be buried within churches, St. Brithwald, the eighth archbishop, was interred in the church of this abbey in 731, and near him his successor, St. Tatwin. Weever says, besides the first archbishops and the kings of Kent, thousands of others were here interred; but by the demolition of this monastery, “not one bone at this time remains near another, nor one stone almost on another, the tract of this most goodly foundation nowhere appearing.” One side of the walls of king Ethelbert’s tower, the gates, houses, and some ruins of the out-buildings are still standing; but the site of the abbey cannot be traced, and the ground is a cherry-orchard. This was the great abbey which some time after changed the name of SS. Peter and Paul for that of St. Augustine’s. But the remains of our saint were afterwards removed hence into the north porch of the cathedral of Christ-church within the city; and on the 6th of September, 1091, leaving in that place some part of the ashes and lesser bones, abbot Wido translated the remainder into the church, where they lay for some tune in a strong urn, in the wall under the east window. In 1221, the head was put into a rich shrine ornamented with gold and precious stones; the rest of the bones lay in a marble tomb, enriched with fine carvings and engravings, till the dissolution.†

Cuthbert, the eleventh archbishop, was the first person buried in Christ-church in 759, since which time it had been the usual burying-place of the archbishops till the change of religion, for none of the Protestant archbishops have hitherto been there interred. In the cathedral of Christ-church were the shrines of St. Thomas, St. Wilfride, (whose relics were translated from Rippon by Odo,) St. Dunstan, St. Elphege, St. Anselm, St. Odo, St. Blaise bishop, St. Owen, archbishop of Rouen, St. Salvius, bishop, St. Woolgam, St. Swithun, &c. Battely11 and Dr. Brown Willis12 justify the monks of Christ-church from the crimes laid to their charge at the dissolution, but say the riches of their church were their crime. Also the ingenious Mr. Wharton, under the name of Antony Harmer, in his Specimen of Errors in B. Burnet’s History of the Reformation, p. 48, takes notice, that whereas the monks of Christ-church in Canterbury and those of Battel-abbey were principally charged with enormous irregularities at the dissolution of abbeys, their innocence in both places, especially the former, is notorious from several evident circumstances. Christ-church, at Canterbury, was rated at the dissolution at two thousand three hundred and eighty-seven pounds per annum; St. Augustine’s, in the same place, at one thousand four hundred and thirteen pounds, according to Dugdale.

MAY 26 — ST. ELEUTHERIUS, POPE, M

He was by birth a Grecian, and deacon of the church of Rome under pope Anicetus. He succeeded St. Soter in the pontificate, in 176, and governed the church while it was beaten with violent storms. Montanus, an ambitious, vain man, of Mœsia, on the confines of Phrygia, sought to raise himself among men by pretending that the Holy Ghost spoke by his mouth, and published forged revelations. His followers afterwards advanced that he was himself the Holy Ghost, the Paraclete Spirit sent by Christ according to his promises, to perfect his law. They seem at first only to have been schismatics and enthusiasts, but soon after added heresy and blasphemy, calling Montanus the Holy Ghost in the same manner that Christ is God the Son. They affected an excessive rigor, had many fasts, kept three Lents in the year, refused the communion and absolution to persons who had fallen into any sin of impurity, condemned second marriages as adulteries, and taught that it is unlawful to flee from persecution. Priscilla and Maximilla, two women of the town of Pepuza in Phrygia, vaunted their pretended prophecies, and were the oracles of their deluded votaries. The devil uses all sorts of baits to destroy souls. If many perish by those of pleasure, others fall by pride, which is gratified by a love of singularity and by an affected austerity. Some who braved the racks and gridirons of the persecutors, and despised the allurements of pleasure, had the misfortune to become the dupes of this wretched enthusiast, and martyrs of the devil. False prophets wear every face except that of a sincere and docile humility, though their austerity towards themselves usually ends in a short time in some shameful libertinism, when vanity, the main-spring of their passions, is either cloyed or finds nothing to gratify it. In this we see the false rigorists of our times resemble those of former ages. Pharisee-like, they please themselves, and gratify their own pride in an affected severity: by it they also seek to establish themselves in the opinion of others. But humility and obedience are a touchstone which discovers their spirit. Montanus succeeded, to the destruction of many souls, who by pride or the like passions sought the snare: among others, the great Tertullian fell, and not only regarded Montanus as the Paraclete, but so much lost his faith and his reason as to honor the ground on which his two pretended prophetesses had trod; and to publish in his writings their illusions and dreams concerning the color of a human soul, and the like absurdities and inconsistencies, as oracles of the eternal truth. The Montanists of Asia, otherwise, called Cataphryges and Pepuzenians, sought in the beginning the communion and approbation of the bishop of Rome, to whom they sent letters and presents. A certain pope was prevailed upon, by the good accounts he had received of their severe morals and virtue, to send them letters of communion. But Praxeas, one who had confessed his faith before the persecutors, arriving at Rome, gave him such informations concerning the Pepuzenians and their prophecies, showing him that he could not admit them without condemning the judgment of his predecessors, that he revoked the letters of peace which he had determined to send, and refused their presents. This is the account which Tertullian, himself a Montanist, gives of the matter.1 Dr. Cave and some others think this pope was Eleutherius, and that he approved the very doctrine of the Montanists; which is certainly a mistake. For the pope received from Praxeas only information as to matters of fact. He was only undeceived by him as to persons and facts, and this before any sentence was given. Nay, it seems that the Montanists had not then openly broached their errors in faith, which they for some time artfully disguised. It seems also, from the circumstance of the time, that the pope whom Praxeas undeceived was Victor, the successor of Eleutherius, and that Eleutherius himself had before rejected the pretended prophets.2

This good pope had the affliction to see great havoc made in his flock by the persecution, especially at Lyons and Vienne, under Marcus Aurelius. But he had, on the other side, the comfort to find the losses richly repaired by the acquisition of new countries to the faith. The light of the gospel had, in the very times of the apostles, crossed the sea into the island of Great Britain; but seems to have been almost choked by the tares of the reigning superstitions, or oppressed by the tumults of wars in the reduction of that valiant people under the Roman yoke, till God,3 who chose poor fishermen to convert the world, here taught a king to esteem it a greater happiness to become an apostle, and extend his faith in this remote corner of the world, than to wear a crown. This was Lucius, a petty king, who reigned in part of the island. His Roman name shows that he was one of those kings whom the Romans honored with that dignity in remote conquered countries, to be their instruments in holding them in subjection. Lucius sent a solemn embassy to Rome to beg some zealous clergymen of pope Eleutherius who might instruct his subjects and celebrate and administer to them the divine mysteries. Our saint received the message with joy, and sent apostolical men who preached Christ in this island with such fruit that the faith in a very short time passed out of the provinces which obeyed the Romans into those northern parts which were inaccessible to their eagles as Tertullian wrote soon after.4 Fugatius and Damianus are said to have been the two principal of these Roman missionaries: the old Welsh Chronicle, quoted by Usher, calls them Dwywan and Fagan. They died in or near the diocese of Landaff; and Harpsfield5 says, there stood in Wales a church dedicated to God under their invocation. Stow in his Annals says that in Somersetshire there remaineth a parish church bearing the name of St. Deruvion. From this time the faith became very flourishing in Britain as is mentioned by Origen, Eusebius, St. Chrysostom, Theodoret, Gildas &c., quoted by Usher, Alford, &c.* Florinus, who taught God to be the author of evil, and Blastus, who pretended that the custom of celebrating Easter on the fourteenth day of the moon, which was tolerated in the Orientals, ought to be followed at Rome, were condemned by St. Eleutherius, who governed the church fifteen years, and died soon after the emperor Commodus, in 192. He was buried on the Salarian road, but his remains have been translated to the Vatican church. See St. Irenæus,1. 3, c. 3; Eusebius,1. 4, c. 22;1. 5, c. 3, 4, 14; Tillemont, t. 3, p. 60.

MAY 26 — ST. QUADRATUS, BISHOP OF ATHENS, C

He was a disciple of the apostles, inherited their spirit and gifts, and by his miracles and labors exceedingly propagated the faith, as Eusebius1 testifies; who calls him a divine man, and assures us that he was endued with an eminent gift of prophecy, and was one of those by whom the Holy Ghost continued to work the same miracles as by the apostles. St. Publius, the immediate successor of St. Dionysius the Areopagite, being crowned with martyrdom under Adrian, in the year 125, St. Quadratus was placed in that episcopal chair. By his qualifications in polite literature, he was esteemed by the heathens as a great ornament to their city, then the seat of the muses; and by his zeal and piety he assembled the faithful together, whom the terrors of the persecution had scattered, and rekindled the fire of their faith, which had begun in many to be extinguished, says St. Jerom. The emperor Adrian passed the winter at Athens, in 124, and was initiated in the mysteries of the goddess Eleusina.† The persecution which then raged grew much sharper on the occasion of this superstitious festival.* St. Quadratus, thirsting after martyrdom, wrote an apology for our holy faith, which he presented to that emperor some time after the martyrdom of St. Publius, and his own exaltation to the episcopal dignity, consequently in 126. St. Jerom testifies, that this performance procured him the highest applause, even among the heathens, and that it extinguished a violent persecution.2 He calls it, A very profitable book, and worthy the apostolical doctrine, &c. Eusebius tells us that it was an excellent monument of the talents and apostolical faith of the author. On which account its loss is much to be regretted. In a fragment of this work, preserved us by Eusebius, St. Quadratus shows the difference between the impostures of magicians, and the true miracles of Christ, and that the former were false, but the latter real, because they were permanent. “But as to the miracles of our Saviour,” says he, “they always remained, because they were real and true. The sick cured, and the dead by him raised, did not only appear restored, but they remained so both while Christ was on earth and long after he was departed, so that some of them have come down to our time.” See Eusebius, Hist. b. 3, c. 37; b. 4, ch. 3; b. 5, ch. 10; St. Jerom, Catal. c. 19, et ep. 84; Tillemont, t. 2, p. 253; Grabe, Spicileg. Patr. Præf. in fragm. Quadrati.

MAY 26 — ST. ODUVALD, ABBOT, C

This saint was a Scottish nobleman, and governor of the province of Laudon, who, renouncing the world, entered the abbey of Melrose. His joy upon this occasion he expressed by singing those verses of the Psalmist: In the departing of Israel out of Egypt, &c.,1 and, The snare is broken, and we are delivered. &c.2 During the whole course of his monastic life he was remarkable for his continued advancement in spiritual fervor, and his gift of tears and constant prayer. His sighs after heaven were crowned with a joyful and happy death, in 698, ten years after St. Cuthbert. See Chronica Sconensia, et Elphiston; Paslatensis Liber, et Sigebert in Chronico.

MAY 27 — ST. JOHN, POPE, M

See Anastasins, Theophanes, Marcellinus, &c., collected by Papebroke, Maij, t. 6; Fleury, Hist. b. 32.

A. D. 526.

POPE JOHN was by birth a Tuscan. He distinguished himself from his youth in the Roman clergy, of which he became the oracle and the model. He was archdeacon, when, after the death of Hormisdas, in 523, he was chosen pope. Theodoric, the Arian king of the Goths, held Italy in subjection, and though endowed with some great qualities, did not divest himself of that disposition to cruelty and jealousy, which is always an ingredient in the character of an ambitious tyrant and a barbarian. It happened that the emperor Justin published an edict, ordering the Arians to deliver up all the churches they were possessed of to the Catholic bishops, by whom they were to be consecrated anew. Theodoric, who was the patron of that sect, took this law very ill; and in revenge threatened, that if it was not repealed in the East, he would not only treat the Catholics in his dominions in the same manner, but would fill Rome with blood and slaughter. Being, however, in some awe of the emperor, he resolved to try what he could do by negotiation; and sent the pope at the head of an embassy of five bishops and four senators, of which three had been consuls, to Constantinople on that errand. John used all manner of entreaties to decline such a commission, but was compelled by the king to take it upon him. He was received in the East with the greatest honors possible; and the whole city of Constantinople went out twelve miles to meet him, carrying wax tapers and crosses. The emperor, to use the words of Anastasius, prostrated himself before the most blessed pope, who also relates that the saint entering the city, restored sight to a blind man at the golden gate, who begged that favor of him. The same is mentioned by St. Gregory the Great, who adds, that the horse on which he rode would never after bear any other rider.1 The joy of that city was universal on this occasion, and the pomp with which the successor of St. Peter was received, seemed to surpass the festival of a triumph. Authors vary as to the issue of his embassy; some say that the pope confirmed Justin in his resolution of taking away the churches from the heretics; but Anastasius tells us that the pope persuaded Justin to treat the Arians with moderation, and to leave them the churches of which they were possessed, and that the emperor acquiesced. However that be, while our saint was in the East, Theodoric caused the great Boëtius, who was the pope’s most intimate friend, both before and after he was raised to the pontificate, to be apprehended.* And no sooner was pope John landed at Ravenna in Italy, but together with the four senators, his colleagues, he was cast into a dark and loathsome dungeon. The tyrant forbade any succor or comfort to be allowed to the prisoners, so that by the hardships of his confinement and the stench or the place, the good pope died at Ravenna on the 27th of May, 526, soon after the cruel execution of Boëtius, having sat two years and nine months. His body was conveyed to Rome, and buried in the Vatican church. The two letters which bear his name are supposititious, as appears from their very dates, &c.

When we see wicked men prosper, and saints die in dungeons, we are far from doubting of providence, we are strengthened in the assured belief, that God, who has stamped the marks of infinite wisdom and goodness on all his works, has appointed a just retribution in the world to come. And faith reveals to us clearly this important secret. We at present see only one end of the chain in the conduct of providence towards men; many links in it are now concealed from our eyes. Let us wait a little, and we shall see in eternity God’s goodness abundantly justified. Who does not envy the happiness of a martyr in his dungeon, when he beholds the inward joy, peace, and sentiments of charity with which he closes his eyes to this world! and much more when he contemplates in spirit the glory with which the soul of the saint is conducted by angels, like Lazarus, to the abodes of immortal bliss! On the contrary, the wicked tyrant cannot think himself safe upon his throne, and amidst his armies; but sits, like Damocles, under the terrible sword in the midst of his enjoyments, in the dreary expectation every moment of perishing. At best, his treacherous pleasures are a wretched exchange for the true joy and peace of virtue; nor can he fly from the torment of his own conscience, or the stench of his guilt. How dreadfully are his horrors increased upon the approach of death! And how will he to all eternity condemn his extravagant folly, unless by sincere repentance he shall have prevented everlasting woes!

MAY 27 — SAINT BEDE, CONFESSOR, FATHER OF THE CHURCH

From the short account he has given of himself in the last chapter of his Ecclesiastical History; his disciple Cuthbert’s relation of his death; his two short anonymous lives extant, one in Capgrave, the other quoted by F. Mathew; also from Simeon of Durham, Hist. Dunelm. c. 14, 15, et 1. de Pontif. Eborac. in manuscript; Cotton. Malmesb. de Reg. Ang1.1. 2, c. 4; Matt. of West. ad an. 734. See Mabillon, sæc. 3, Ben. p. 1, p. 539; Bulteau, t. 2, p. 316; Cave, Hist. Lit. t. 1, Ed. noviss; Ceillier, t. 18, p. 1; Tanner, Bibl. Script. Brit. p. 86; Biographia Brit. t.1, V. Bede; and Smith in app. after Bede’s Eccl. Hist. p. 791.

A. D. 735.

THE celebrated Dom. Mabillon,1 mentioning Bede as a most illustrious in stance of learning in the monastic institute, says: “Who ever applied himself to the study of every branch of literature, and also to the teaching of others more than Bede? yet who was more closely united to heaven by the exercises of piety and religion? To see him pray, says an ancient writer, one would have thought he left himself no time to study; and when we look at his books we admire he could have found time to do any thing else but write.” Camden calls him “the singular and shining light,” and Leland “the chiefest and brightest ornament of the English nation, most worthy, if any one ever was, of immortal fame.” William of Malmesbury tells us, that it is easier to admire him in thought than to do him justice in expression Venerable Bede, called by the ancients Bedan, (who is not to be confounded with a monk of Landisfarne of the same name2 but older,) was born in 673, as Mabillon demonstrates from his own writings, in a village which soon after his birth became part of the estate of the new neighboring monastery of Jarrow, but was gained upon by the sea before the time of Simeon of Durham. St. Bennet Biscop founded the abbey of St. Peter’s at Weremouth, near the mouth of the Were, in 674, and that of St. Paul’s at Girvum, now Jarrow, in 680, on the banks of the river Tyne, below the Capræ-caput, still called Goat’s head, or Gateshead, opposite to Newcastle. Such a harmony subsisted between the two houses that they were often governed by the same abbot, and called the same monastery of SS. Peter and Paul. St. Benne was a man of extraordinary learning and piety, and enriched these monasteries with a large and curious library which he had collected at Rome, and in other foreign parts. To his care Bede was committed at seven years of age, but was afterwards removed to Jarrow, where he prosecuted his studies under the direction of the abbot Ceolfrid, who had been St. Bennet’s fellow-traveller. Among other able masters, under whom he made great progress, he names Trumbert, a monk of Jarrow, who had formerly been a disciple of St. Chad, bishop, first of York, afterwards of Litchfield, who had established a great school in his monastery of Lestingan in Yorkshire. The church music, or chant, Bede learned of John, formerly precentor of St. Peter’s on the Vatican, and abbot of St. Martin’s at Rome, whom pope Agatho had sent over to England with St. Bennet Biscop. The Greek language our saint must have learned of Theodorus, archbishop of Canterbury, and the abbot Adrian, by whose instruction that language became as familiar to several of their English scholars as their native tongue. For an instance of which Bede mentions Tobias, bishop of Rochester. How great a master Bede was of that language appears from his Ars Metrica, and other works. His poem on St. Cuthbert and other performances show him to have been a good poet for the age wherein he lived. But his comments on the holy scriptures, and his sermons prove that the meditation on the word of God, and the writings of the holy fathers, chiefly engrossed his time and attention.

His great piety and endowments supplying the defect of age, by the order of his abbot Ceolfrid, he was ordained deacon in 691, at nineteen years of age, by St. John of Beverley, who was at that time bishop of Hexham, in which diocese Jarrow was situated, there being then no episcopal see at Durham. From this time he continued his studies, till, at thirty years of age, in 702, he was ordained priest by the same St. John, who was made bishop of Hexham in 685, and bishop of York in 704. In king Alfred’s version Bede is styled Mass-Priest, because it was his employment to sing every day the conventual mass. He tells us that the holy abbot and founder, St. Bennet Biscop, like the rest of the brethren, used to winnow the corn and thrash it, to give milk to the lambs and calves, and to work in the bake-house, garden, and kitchen. Bede must have sometimes had a share in such employments, and he was always cheerful, obedient, and indefatigable. But his studies and writings, with assiduous meditation and prayer, must have chiefly employed him. He often copied books. From the time that he was promoted to priestly orders he began to compose books; and he had a great school, in which he brought up many eminent and holy scholars, and instructed his fellow monks, who amounted to the number of six hundred. Bede tells us of himself that he applied himself wholly to the meditation of the holy scriptures, and amidst the observance of regular discipline, and the daily care of singing in the church, it was his delight to be always employed either in learning, teaching, or writing. He says, that from the time of his being made priest, to the fifty-ninth year of his age when he wrote this, he had compiled several books for his own use, and that of others, gathering them out of the works of the venerable fathers, or adding new comments according to their sense and interpretation.* He gives a list of forty-five different works which he had then composed, of which thirty, and many of those are divided into several books, consist of comments on the Old and New Testament. He wrote several other works after this. All the sciences and every branch of literature were handled by him; natural philosophy, the philosophical principles of Aristotle, astronomy, arithmetic, the calendar, grammar, ecclesiastical history, and the lives of the saints; though works of piety make up the bulk of his writings. The ornaments of rhetoric were not his study; but perspicuity, (the first qualification in writing,) an unaffected honesty and simplicity, and an affecting spirit of sincere piety and goodness of heart and charity, run through all his compositions, and cannot fail to please. An honest candor and love of truth are so visibly the characteristics of his historical works, that if some austere critics have suspected him sometimes of credulity, no man ever called in question his sincerity. If on the scriptures he often abridged or reduced to a methodical order the comments of St. Austin, St. Ambrose, St. Jerom, St. Basil, and other fathers, this he did, not out of sloth or for want of genius, (as some later writers have done,) but that he might stick closer to tradition in interpreting the sacred oracles; and in what he found not done by other eminent fathers, he still followed their rules lest he should in the least tittle deviate from tradition. In the original comments which he wrote, he seems, in the opinion of good judges, not inferior in solidity and judgment to his ablest masters among the fathers. John Bale, the apostate Carmelite friar, and the sworn enemy of the monks and fathers, who was bishop of Ossory under Edward VI., and died canon of Canterbury under queen Elizabeth, could not refuse Bede the highest encomiums, and affirms, that he certainly surpassed Gregory the Great in eloquence and copiousness of style, and that there is scarce any thing in all antiquity worthy to be read, which is not found in Bede. Dr. John Pitts3 advances, that Europe scarce ever produced a greater scholar; and that even while he was living, his writings were of so great authority that a council ordered them to be publicly read in the churches. Folchard, a very learned monk of Christ-church, in Canterbury, and abbot of Thorney, in the days of St. Edward the Confessor, and the Conqueror, originally from Sithiu, in his Life of St. John of Beverley, quoted by Leland, says of Bede: “It is amazing how this great man became so perfect in all the branches of those sciences to which he applied himself, whereby he conquered all difficulties, and brought those of his own nation to form right notions; so that from the rude and boorish manners of their ancestors they began to be exceedingly civilized and polite through their desire of learning, of which he not only taught them the grounds while living, but in his works left them a kind of Encyclopædia (or universal library) for the instruction of youth after his decease.” Fuller writes of him: “He expounded almost all the Bible, translated the Psalms and New Testament into English, and lived a comment on those words of the apostle,—shining as a light in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation.” What we most admire in Bede is the piety with which he pursued and sanctified his studies, and the use which he made of them. What he says of St. Chad was a transcript of his own life, that he studied the holy scriptures so as to meditate assiduously on the mysteries of faith and the maxims and rules of piety, treasuring up in his heart the most perfect sentiments of divine love, humility, and all virtues, and diligently copying them in his whole conduct. Hence his life was a model of devotion, obedience, humility, simplicity, charity, and penance. He declined the abbatial dignity which was pressed upon him. Malmesbury gives us a letter of pope Sergius,4 by which with many honorable expressions he was invited to Rome, that pope desiring to see and consult him in certain matters of the greatest importance. This must have happened about the time that he was ordained priest. Bede out of modesty suppressed this circumstance. What hindered his journey thither we know not; but we have his word for it that he lived from his childhood in his monastery without travelling abroad, that is, without taking any considerable journey. His reputation drew to him many visits from all the greatest men in Britain, particularly from the pious king Ceolwulph. Ecgbright, or Egberct, brother to Eadbyrht, king of Northumberland, who was consecrated archbishop of York in 734, had been a scholar of Bede. At his pressing invitation our saint went to York, and taught there some months, but excused himself from leaving his monastery the following year.5 This school set up at York became very flourishing, and Alcuin, one of its greatest ornaments, is said to have been himself a scholar of Bede. Our saint died soon after Ecgbright’s accession to the see of York; but lived long enough to write him a letter of advice upon his advancement. Herein he puts him in mind that it was a most essential part of his duty to place everywhere able and learned priests, to labor strenuously himself in feeding his flock, in correcting all vice, and endeavoring to convert all sinners, and to take care that every one knew the Lord’s Prayer and the Creed, and was thoroughly instructed in the articles of our holy religion. He gives it as an important piece of advice, that all among the laity whose lives are pure, (or free from vice,) communicate every Sunday, and on the festivals of the apostles and martyrs, as he says Ecgbright had seen practised at Rome; but Bede requires that married persons prepare themselves by continence to receive the holy communion,6 which was formerly a precept repeated in several councils; but is now by disuse looked upon as no more than a counsel, but a counsel which St. Charles Borromeo recommends to be inculcated. Bede died within the compass of a year after he wrote this letter. Cuthbert, called also Antony, one of his scholars, to whom the saint dedicated his book, De Arte Metrica, wrote to one Cuthwin a monk, who had formerly been his schoolfellow under Bede, an account of the death of their dear master. This Cuthbert was afterwards abbot of Jarrow, in which dignity he succeeded Huethbert, called also Eusebius, another scholar of Bede.

The letter of Cuthbert7 deserves to have a place in the life of Bede, though it is here something abridged. “To his most beloved in Christ, and fellow reader Cuthwin, his schoolfellow Cuthbert wishes eternal salvation in our Lord. Your small present was very acceptable, and your letter gave me much satisfaction, wherein I found what I greatly desired, that masses and prayers are diligently said by you for Bede, the beloved of God, our late father and master. For the love I bear him, I send you in few words an account of the manner in which he departed this world, understanding it is what you desire. He began to be much troubled with a shortness of breath about two weeks before Easter, yet without pain: thus he lived cheerful and rejoicing, giving thanks to Almighty God every day and night, nay every hour, till the day of our Lord’s Ascension, which was the 26th of May. He daily read lessons to us his scholars; the rest of the day he spent in singing psalms; he also passed all the night awake in joy and thanksgiving, only when he was interrupted by a short slumber; but awaking, he repeated his accustomed exercises, and ceased not to give thanks to God, with his hands expanded. O truly happy man! He sung that sentence of St. Paul: It is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God; and much more out of holy writ. Being well skilled in English verses he recited some things in our tongue. He said in English: ‘No man is too wise to consider what good or evil he has done, before the necessary departure:’ that is, to examine the state of his soul sufficiently before his death. He also sung anthems according to his and our custom; one of which is: ‘O glorious King, Lord of Hosts, who triumphing this day didst ascend above all the heavens, leave us not orphans; but send down the Father’s Spirit of truth upon us: Alleluia.’ When he came to that word, ‘leave us not,’ he burst into tears, and wept much; and an hour after he began to repeat the same anthem he had commenced, and we hearing it, grieved with him. By turns we read, and by turns we wept; nay, we always wept even when we read. In such joy we passed the fifty days, and he rejoiced much, and gave God thanks because he deserved to be so infirm. He often repeated that God scourgeth every son whom he receiveth; and much more out of the scripture; also that sentence of St. Ambrose: ‘I have not lived so as to be ashamed to live among you; nor am I afraid to die, because we have a good God.’ During these days, besides the daily lessons he gave, and the singing of psalms, he composed two works for the benefit of the church; the one was a translation of St. John’s gospel into English, as far as those words: But what are these among so many? the other, some collections out of St. Isidore’s book of notes; for he said, ‘I will not have my scholars read a falsehood after my death, and labor without advantage.’ On Tuesday before the Ascension he began to be much worse in his breathing, and a small swelling appeared in his feet; but he passed all that day pleasantly, and dictated in school, saying now and then, ‘Go on quickly; I know not how long I shall hold out, and whether my Maker will soon take me away.’ To us he seemed very well to know the time of his departure. He spent the nigh awake in thanksgivings. On Wednesday morning he ordered us to write speedily what he had begun. After this, we made the procession according to the custom of that day,* walking with the relics of the saints till the third hour, (or nine o’clock in the morning;) then one of as said to him: ‘Most dear master, there is still one chapter wanting. Do you think it troublesome to be asked any more questions?’ He answered: ‘It is no trouble. Take your pen and write fast.’ He did so. But at the ninth hour (three in the afternoon) he said to me: ‘Run quickly; and bring all the priests of the monastery to me.’ When they came, he distributed to them some pepper-corns, little cloths or handkerchiefs, and incense which he had in a little box,* entreating every one that they would carefully celebrate masses and say prayers for him; which they readily promised to do. They all wept at his telling them, they should no more see his face in this world: but rejoiced to hear him say: ‘It is now time for me to return to him who made me, and gave me a being when I was nothing. I have lived a long time; my merciful Judge most graciously foresaw and ordered the course of my life for me. The time of my dissolution draws near. I desire to be dissolved, and to be with Christ. Yes; my soul desires to see Christ my king in his beauty.’ Many other things he spoke to our edification, and spent the rest of the day in joy till the evening. The above-mentioned young scholar, whose name was Wilberth, said to him: ‘Dear master, there is still one sentence that is not written.’ He answered, ‘Write quickly. The young man said: ‘It is now done.’ He replied: ‘You have well said it is at an end: all is finished. Hold my head, that I may have the pleasure to sit, looking towards my little oratory where I used to pray; that while I am sitting I may call upon my heavenly Father, and on the pavement of his little place sing, Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost.’ Thus he prayed on the floor, and when he had named the Holy Ghost, he breathed out his soul. All declared that they had never seen any one die with such great devotion and tranquility: for so long as his soul was in his body, he never ceased, with his hands expanded, to give thanks and praise to God, repeating, Glory be to the Father, &c., with other spiritual acts. I have many other things I could relate of him; and I have a thought of writing more amply on this subject,” &c.

Ranulph Higden8 relates the manner of his holy departure: “After teaching all day, it was his custom to watch much in the nights. Finding by the swelling of his feet that death approached, he received extreme unction, and then the Viaticum on the Tuesday before the Ascension of the Lord, and gave the kiss of peace to all his brethren, imploring their pious remembrance after his death. On the feast of the Ascension, lying on sackcloth spread on the floor, he invited the grace of the Holy Ghost; and continued in praise and thanksgiving, in which he breathed forth his holy soul.” St Bede died in the year 735, of his age sixty-two,† on Wednesday evening the 26th of May, after the first vespers of our Lord’s Ascension; whence many authors say he died on the feast of the Ascension; for our Saxon ancestors reckoned festivals from the firs vespers. Thus from repeating the divine praises here in the most pure and profound sentiments of compunction, humility, zeal, and love, he passed, as it were without intermission, to sing eternally the same praises with affections at once infinitely dilated with inexpressible holy joy, ardor, and love, in the glorious choirs of the blessed, and in the beatific contemplation of God, whom he praised and loved. His feast was kept in England in some places on the 26th of May, with a commemoration only in the office of St. Austin; in others it was deferred to the 27th, on which it occurs in the Roman Martyrology. In the constitution of John Alcock, bishop of Ely, for the festivals of his diocese, printed in 1498 by Pynson, Bede’s feast is ordered to be kept with an office on the 13th of March, the day of his death being taken up by the office of St. Austin. Certain congregations of the Benedictine order have long kept his office on the 29th of October, perhaps on account of some translation. On the same day it is celebrated at present in England, and by a special privilege, the office is said by all English priests who live in foreign countries, by an indult or grant of pope Benedict XIV. given in 1754 which grant, at least with regard to those clergymen or regulars who are in England, was interpreted at, Rome to imply a precept.

Alcuin9 having extolled the learning and virtues of this holy doctor, says that his sanctity was attested by the voice of heaven after his death; for a sick man was freed from a fever upon the spot by touching his relics. St. Lullus, archbishop of Mentz, wrote to his scholar Cuthbert, then abbot of Weremouth and Jarrow, to beg a copy of Bede’s works, and sent him a cloak for his own use, and a silk vest to cover the shrine of this great servant of God. At that time a vest was a usual present even to kings. Bede was buried in St. Paul’s church in Jarrow, where a porch on the north side bore his name. In 1020 his sacred remains were conveyed to Durham, and laid in a bag and wooden trunk in the shrine of St. Cuthbert, as Simeon of Durham relates. In 1155 they were taken up by Hugh, bishop of Durham, and enclosed in a rich shrine of curious workmanship, adorned with gold, silver, and jewels, as we learn from the appendix to the history of Durham, compiled by Simeon of Durham, who wrote from the memoirs of Turgot the learned prior of Durham in the reign of Edward the Confessor, made archbishop of St. Andrew’s in the reign of the Conqueror, whose declared enemy he was. Hence Turgot’s history has been by some ascribed to him. At the change of religion in England the shrines of the saints were plundered by the royal commissioners, but these were anticipated by private robbers in many places. At the same time the relics were scattered or publicly burned. This latter part of the commission, which was rigorously executed near the court and in the southern provinces, was not much regarded in the more remote northern counties, where they were usually interred in the churches where their shrines were kept, as we see in St. Cuthbert’s, St. John of Beverley’s, &c. Speed, in his Theatre of Britain, says his marble monument subsisted, when he wrote in our Lady’s chapel in the western part of the church of Durham. Sir George Wheeler, who died prebendary of Durham, and was a great admirer of Bede according to his will, is buried within the cathedral, near the foot of Bede’s tomb, and has an inscription, whereas none is now found over St. Bede’s. Mr. Smith has given a type of the remains which are now standing,10 and another of the altar of St. Cuthbert and St. Bede, delineated from the paintings of the eastern window.11 Nevertheless, the monks of Glastenbury laid claim to St. Bede’s relics, or a portion of them.12 Boniface calls St. Bede the lamp of the English church; St. Lullus, Alcuin, and other writers from the time of his death, exceedingly extol his learning and sanctity. By Lanfranc and many others he is styled the doctor and father of the English. Trithemius imagined that the title of “Venerable” was conferred on him in his lifetime. But Mabillon shows from the silence of all former writers, that it was begun to be given him, out of a peculiar respect, only in the ninth age, when it was used by Amalarius, Jonas, Usuard, &c.13 He was styled Saint, and placed in foreign Martyrologies long before that time, by Hincmar, Notker,14 in the litany of St. Gall’s, &c. Rabanus Maurus mentions an altar at Fulde, of which Bede was titular saint. The second council of Aix-la-Chapelle, in 836, calls him “The venerable and in the modern times admirable doctor,” &c.

It was the happiness of Venerable Bede, that receiving his education under the direction of saints, by their example, spirit, and instructions he learned from his infancy the maxims and practice of perfect sanctity. St. Chrysostom15 wished that parents would breed up their children in monasteries till they are to be produced in the world. Several Roman senators, and other noblemen, committed the education of their sons to St. Bennet. The most austere and regular monasteries have been chosen by virtuous parents of the first rank, whose principal desire was that their children should be brought up among saints, where their passions would be in no danger of being flattered, and where their minds would be filled with Christian verities and Christ’s spirit, and their hearts formed to piety, grounded in the love, and exercised in habits of all virtues. This is the first and essential advantage which parents are bound to procure their children, upon which their temporal and eternal happiness depends, and all other advantages and qualifications are to be founded. Let them not be neglected, but let this be secured in the first place, and at all rates.

MAY 27 — ST. JULIUS M

This martyr was a veteran soldier, and was impeached by his officers for the Christian faith, before Maximus, governor of the Lower Mœsia, which was afterwards called Bulgaria. Pasicrates and Valention, both of the same regiment, had received the crown of martyrdom a little before. The judge employed caresses, promises, and threats; but Julius professed that to die for Christ, in order to live eternally with him, would be the accomplishment of all his desires. Whereupon he was condemned to lose his head, and led forth to the place of execution. As he went, Hesychius, a Christian soldier, who was also a prisoner, and suffered martyrdom a few days after him, said: “Go with courage, and run to the crown which the Lord hath promised; and remember me, who shall shortly follow you. Commend me to the servants of God, Pasicrates and Valention, who, by confessing the holy name of Jesus, are gone before us.” Julius, embracing Hesychius, said, “Dear brother, make haste to come to us; they whom you salute have already heard you.”* Julius bound his eyes with a handkerchief, and presenting his neck to the executioner, said,—“Lord Jesus, for whose name I suffer death, vouchsafe to receive my soul in the number of thy saints.” His martyrdom happened on the 27th of May, two days after that of St. Pasicrates, about the year 302, in the reign of Dioclesian, at Durostoro, on the Danube, in the second Mœsia. See his genuine acts in Ruinan. p. 615. Tillem. t. 5.

MAY 28 — SAINT GERMANUS, BISHOP OF PARIS, C

See his life by Fortunatus of Poitiers, St. Gregory of Tours, Hist.1. 4, c. 26. Mabillon, Annal. Bened.1. 5, p. 132, and Acta Ord. Bened. t. 1, p. 234. Also Dom. Boulliart, Hist, de l’Abbaye de St. Germain des Prez, fol. Paris, 1723. Dom. Lobinean, Hist. de Paris, n. 25, 29, &c.

A. D. 576.

ST. GERMANUS, the glory of the church of France in the sixth age, was born in the territory of Autun about the year 469. He was brought up in piety and learning under the care of Scapilion his cousin, a holy priest. In his youth no weather could divert him from always going to Matins at midnight, though the church was above a mile from the place of his abode. Being ordained priest by St. Agrippinus bishop of Autun, he was made abbot of St. Symphorian’s in the suburbs of that city, a house since converted into a priory of regular canons. Fortunatus, bishop of Poitiers, who was well acquainted with our saint, tells us that he was favored at that time with the gifts of miracles and prophecy. It was his custom to watch great part of the night in the church in prayer, while his monks slept. One night in a dream he thought a venerable old man presented him with the keys of the city of Paris, and said to him, that God committed to his care the inhabitants of that city, that he should save them from perishing. Four years after this divine admonition, in 554, happening to be at Paris when that see became vacant, on the demise of the bishop Eusebius, he was exalted to the episcopal chair, though he endeavored by many tears to decline the charge. His promotion made no alteration in his continual fasts and other austerities; and the same simplicity and frugality appeared in his dress, table, and furniture. In the evening at nine o’clock he went to the church, and stayed there in prayer till after Matins, that is, in summer till about break of day His house was perpetually crowded with the poor and the afflicted, and he had always many beggars at his own table, at which no dainty meats were ever served; he took care that the souls of his guests should be refreshed at the same time with their bodies, by the reading of some pious book. God gave to his sermons a wonderful influence over the minds of all ranks of people; so that the face of the whole city was in a very short time quite changed. Vanities were abolished, dances and profane amusements laid aside, enmities and discord extinguished, and sinners reclaimed. King Childebert, who till then had been an ambitious worldly prince, by the sweetness and the powerful discourses of the saint, was entirely converted to piety, and by his advice reformed his whole court. And so desirous did that prince become of exchanging the perishing goods of this world for eternal treasures, that, not content with making many religious foundations, to be nurseries of piety in all succeeding ages, and with sending incredible sums of money to the good bishop, to be distributed among the indigent after his coffers were drained he melted down his silver plate, and gave away the chains which he wore about his neck, begging the bishop, whom he made the steward of his charities, never to cease giving, assuring him that on his side he should never be tired with supplying all things for the relief and comfort of the distressed.

In the year 542, king Childebert, together with his brother Clotaire, making war in Spain, besieged Saragossa. The inhabitants of that city reposed a particular confidence in the patronage of St. Vincent, whose relics they carried in procession within sight of the French camp. King Childebert was moved with their devotion, and desiring to speak with the bishop of the city, promised to withdraw his army, on condition he might obtain some portion of the relics of St. Vincent. The bishop gave him the stole which that holy deacon wore at the altar. Upon which the king raised the siege, and, at his return to Paris, built a church in honor of St. Vincent, and of the Holy Cross; which is now called St. Germain’s in the meadows and stands in the suburbs of Paris. Childebert falling sick at his palace at Celles, near Melun, at the confluence of the Yon and Seine, St. Germanus paid him a visit; and when the physicians had in vain tried every thing, all human means failing, the saint spent the whole night in prayer for his recovery, and in the morning laid his hands on him; and at the same moment the king found himself perfectly healed. The king relates himself this miracle in his letters patent, in which, in gratitude to God for this benefit, he gave to the church of Paris and the bishop Germanus, the land of Celles, where he had received this favor. The good king did not long survive. As the king had chosen the church of St. Vincent for the place of his burial, the saint, assisted by six other bishops, performed the ceremony of the dedication on the 23d of December, 558, the very day on which that prince died. The king likewise had built a large monastery joining to this new church, which he endowed most liberally with the fief of Issy and other lands, on part of which a considerable suburb of Paris has been since built. This magnificent edifice was called the Golden Church, the walls being covered on the outside with plates of brass gilt, and within adorned with paintings on a rich gilt ground.1 This church was plundered by the Normans, in 845, 857, 858, and set on fire by them in 861 and 881: but rebuilt in 1014, and dedicated by pope Alexander III. in 1163. The lower part of the great tower and its gate with the statues of Clovis, Clodomir, Thierri, Childebert and his wife Ultrogotta, Clotaire, and others, seem to be as old as the time of king Childebert. This prince committed the monastery and church to the care of our saint, who placed there monks under the holy abbot Droctoveus, whom he had invited from Autun, where he had formed him to a religious life.* Clotaire, who succeeded his brother Childebert, was the last of the sons of the great Clovis; and united again the four kingdoms of France into one monarchy. On his removing from Soissons to Paris, he at first seemed to treat the holy bishop coldly; but falling all soon after of a violent fever, was put in mind by some that were about him to send for St. Germanus. He did so, and full of confidence in the power of God and the sanctity of his servant, took hold of his clothes and applied them to the parts of his body where he felt pain, and recovered immediately. From that moment he always treated the saint even with greater honor than Childebert had done. But that prince dying shortly after, in 561, his four sons, Charibert, Gontran, Sigebert, and Chilperic, divided the French monarchy into four kingdoms, in the same manner as the sons of Clovis had done. That of Paris was given to Charibert or Aribert, Gontran was king of Orleans and Burgundy, Sigebert of Austrasia, and Chilperic of Soissons. Charibert sunk into a vicious indolence, yet was obstinate and headstrong in his passions; not being divested of all the prejudices of paganism, he divorced his wife Ingoberga, and took to wife Marcovesa her maid, who had worn a religious habit; and after her death, he married her sister Merofleda, Ingoberga being still living. Our saint many ways endeavored to make him sensible of the enormity of his crimes; but finding all his remonstrances lost on him, he proceeded so far as to excommunicate him and the accomplice of his sin, to hinder at least the dangerous influence of his scandalous example. The sinners were hardened in their evil courses; but God revenged the contempt of his laws and of the holy pastor as he has often done, by visible judgments; for the criminal lady fell ill and died in a few days, and the adulterous king did not long survive her, leaving by his lawful wife only three daughters, two of whom became nuns, the third, called Bertha, was married to Ethelbert, king of Kent.

Upon the death of Charibert in 570, his three brothers divided his dominions; but not being able to agree who should be master of Paris, the capital, came to an accommodation that they should hold it jointly, on condition that none of them should go into the city without the leave of the other two. St. Germanus found his flock involved by this agreement in great difficulties, and the city divided into three different parties, always plotting and counterplotting against one another. He did all that the most consummate charity, prudence, and vigilance could do, to preserve the public peace; yet Sigebert and Chilperic appeared in arms, being fired by ambition, and stirred up by their wicked queens Fredegonda, wife of the latter, and Brunehaut of the former, burning with the most implacable jealousy against each other. The saint prevailed with them to suspend their hostilities for some time. At length Chilperic invaded the territories of Sigebert, but being worsted in battle, fled to Tournay. This victory left Sigebert free liberty of going to Paris with his wife Brunehaut and children, where he was received as conqueror. St. Germanus wrote to the queen, conjuring her to employ her interest with her husband to restore the peace of France, and to spare the life and fortune of a brother, whose ruin and blood would cry to heaven for vengeance. But Brunehaut’s passion rendered her deaf to all remonstrances, and Sigebert was determined by her furious counsels to besiege Tournay. As he was setting out for this enterprise, he was met by St. Germanus, who told him that if he forgave his brother, he should return victorious; but if he was bent on his death, divine justice would overtake him, and his own death should prevent the execution of his unnatural design. Sigebert allowed this wholesome advice no weight; but the event showed that God had put these words in the mouth of the good bishop; for queen Fredegonda, enraged at the desperate posture of her husband’s affairs, hired two assassins, who dispatched him with poisoned daggers, while he made a halt in his march at Vitri, in 575 after he had reigned fourteen years, with some reputation of humanity, as Fortunatus tells us.

Chilperic, by his tyranny and oppressions, deserved to be styled the French Nero, as St. Gregory of Tours calls him. He sacrificed his own children by former wives to the fury of Fredegonda, but having discovered her infidelity to him, he was, by her contrivance, murdered by her gallant in 584 Fredegonda was regent of the kingdoms of Soissons and Paris for her son Clotaire III., and continued her practices and wars against Brunehaut and her son till she died, in 601. Brunehaut governed the kingdom of Austrasia for her son Childebert II., and after his death for her grandson Theodebert; but afterwards persuaded Theodoric, her second grandson, who reigned at Challons, to destroy him and his whole family in 611. The year following Theodoric died, and Clotaire II., surnamed the Great, son of Fredegonda, inheriting both their estates, accused Brunehaut before the states of putting to death ten kings and St. Desiderius, bishop of Vienne, because he had reproved her for her public scandalous lusts, and many other illustrious persons. She had at first appeared liberal, and built several churches; but afterwards became infamous for her cruelty, avarice, restless ambition, and insatiable lusts, to which she sacrificed all things, and employed both the sword and poison in perpetrating her wicked designs. Being condemned by the states, she was put to the rack during three days, and afterwards dragged to death, being tied to the tail of a wild mare; or, according to others, drawn betwixt four horses, in 613.*

St. Germanus lived not to see the miserable ends of these two firebrands of their country. In his old age he lost nothing of that zeal and activity with which he had filled the great duties of his station in the vigor of his life; nor did the weakness to which his corporal austerities had reduced him, make him abate any thing in the mortifications of his penitential life, in which he redoubled his fervor as he approached nearer to the end of his course. By his zeal the remains of idolatry were extirpated in France. In the third council of Paris, in 557, he had the principal share in drawing up the canons. By his advice, king Childebert issued an edict commanding all idols to be destroyed throughout his dominions, and forbidding all indecent dances and diversions on Sundays and festivals. The saint continued his labors for the conversion of sinners till he was called to receive the reward of them on the 28th of May, 576, being eighty years old. King Chilperic composed his epitaph, in which he extols his zeal for the salvation of his people, and their affection and veneration for his person. He mentions the miracles which were wrought at his tomb, and says that sight was restored to the blind and speech to the dumb.2 He was, according to his own desire, buried in St. Symphorian’s chapel, which he built at the bottom of the church of St. Vincent already mentioned. Many miracles manifested his sanctity, of which Fortunatus, then a priest, afterwards bishop of Poitiers, has left us a history, in which he gives two on his own evidence. Also two anonymous monks compiled relations of several miracles of St. Germanus, which Aimoinus,† a monk of this monastery in 870, and a careful writer digested into two books.3 The relics of St. Germanus remained in the aforesaid chapel till the year 754, when the abbot removed them into the body of the church. The ceremony of this translation was performed with great solemnity; and king Pepin thought himself honored by assisting at it. Prince Charles, known afterwards by the title of Charlemagne, who was then but seven years old, attended his father on this occasion, and was so strongly affected with the miracles performed at that time, that when he came to the crown, he took a particular pleasure in relating them, with all their circumstances. The greatest part of the relics of St. Germanus remain still in this church of St. Vincent, commonly called St. Germain-des-Prez. This abbey is possessed of the original privilege of its foundation and exemption, written on bark, and subscribed by St. Germanus, St. Nicetius, and several other bishops.* The most valuable work of St. Germanus of Paris, is An Exposition of the Liturgy,† published from an ancient manuscript by Dom. Martenne.4 The characteristical virtue of St. Germanus was his unbounded charity to the poor. Liberality in alms moves God to be liberal to us in the dispensations of his spiritual graces; but he who hardens his heart to the injuries and wants of others, shuts against himself the treasury of heaven.

MAY 28 — SAINT CARAUNUS, ALSO CARANUS AND CARO, M. IN FRENCH CHERON

He was a native of Gaul, and flourished towards the end of the fifth age. After the death of his parents, who were Christians, he distributed all his substance to the poor; and, in order to serve God with more ease, retired into a desert, where the bishop of the place, discovering his merit, ordained him a deacon.

He then determined to consecrate himself entirely to the ministry of the word; and having preached in several provinces of Gaul,‡ he came into the territory of Chartrain, where he found but a small number of Christians, the descendants of those who had been formerly converted by St. Potentianus and St. Altinus.§ The gospel having made a rapid progress by his zeal, he made choice of some disciples to assist him in extending the knowledge of Jesus Christ; and set out on his way to Paris.

He had scarce advanced three leagues from Chartres when he perceived a gang of robbers approaching towards him; whereupon he advised his disciples to hide themselves among the thickets while he would amuse the robbers by discoursing with them. These savages, provoked at not finding any money in his possession, fell upon him and inhumanly murdered him. Thus died St. Caraunus, a martyr of charity.

His disciples buried his body near Chartres, upon an eminence which was since called the Holy Mount; and after some time a church was erected there under his invocation, the care of which was intrusted to a community of ecclesiastics; but the canon regulars were substituted in their room in 1137. The relics of St. Caraunus are kept in the abbey of his name near Chartres. The president of Lamoignon obtained one bone of them in 1681, for the church which is dedicated to the saint at Mont-couronne, one of the parishes of Baville. His name is mentioned on this day in the Martyrologies; and the feast of his translation is kept at Chartres on the 18th of October. See the Bollandists, t. 6, Maij, p. 748. Baillet, 28 Maij; Gall Christ. Nov. t. 8, pp. 1091 et 1305, the new Paris Breviary, &c.

MAY 29 — SAINT MAXIMINUS, BISHOP OF TRIERS, C

From the works of St. Athanasius and St. Hilary, and from the councils. See Tillem. t. 7, p. 248. Rivet Hist. Lit. Fr. t. 1, and Calmet, Hist. Lor. t. 1.

A. D. 349.

ST. MAXIMINUS was one of those pastors whom God raised in the most dangerous times to support his church. He was born at Poitiers, nobly descended, and related to Maxentius, bishop of that city before St. Hilary. The reputation of the sanctity of St. Agritius, bishop of Triers, drew him young to that city, and after a most virtuous education, he was admitted to holy orders, and, upon the death of Agritius, chosen his successor in 332. When St. Athanasius was banished to Triers in 336, St. Maximinus received him, not as a person disgraced, but as a most glorious confessor of Christ, and thought it a great happiness to enjoy the company of so illustrious a saint. St. Athanasius stayed with him two years; and his work bear evidence to the indefatigable vigilance, heroic courage, and exemplary virtue of our saint, who was before that time famous for the gift of miracles. St. Paul, bishop of Constantinople, being banished by Constantius, found also a retreat at Triers, and in St. Maximinus a powerful protector. Our saint, by his counsels, precautioned the emperor Constans against the in trigues and snares of the Arians, and on every occasion discovered their artifice, and opposed their faction. He was one of the most illustrious defenders of the Catholic faith in the council of Sardica in 347, and had the honor to be ranked by the Arians with St. Athanasius, in an excommunication which they pretended to fulminate against them at Philippopolis. St. Maximinus is said to have died in Poitou in 349, having made a journey thither to see his relations. He was buried near Poitiers; but his body was afterwards translated to Triers on the day which is now devoted to his memory. St. Maximinus, by protecting and harboring saints, received himself the recompense of a saint.

MAY 29 — ST. CYRIL, M

This saint was as yet a child, when he glorified God by martyrdom at Cæsarea in Cappadocia. His father, being an idolater, seeing his young son, who had been privately made a Christian, refuse to adore his idols, after all manner of severe usage, turned him out of doors. The governor of Cæsarea being informed of it, gave orders that Cyril should be brought before him. Enraged to hear him never cease to proclaim the name of Jesus, he told him with many caresses, that he ought to detest that name, and promised him the pardon of his faults, a reconciliation with his father and the inheritance of his estate, if he obeyed. The courageous child answered, “I rejoice in suffering reproaches for what I have done. God will receive me, with whom I shall be better than with my father. I cheerfully renounce earthly estates and house, that I may be made rich in heaven. I am not afraid of death, because it will procure me a better life.” This he said with a courage which showed that God spoke in him. The judge commanded him to be publicly bound, and to be led as if it had been to execution, but he gave orders in private that they should only frighten him Being placed before a great fire, and threatened to be thrown in it, yet he was not daunted. He was then carried back to the judge, who said to him, “My child, you have seen both the fire and the sword. Be wise, and return to your house and fortune.” The martyr answered, “You have done me a real prejudice in calling me back. I neither fear the fire nor the sword; God will receive me. Put me to death without delay, that I may the sooner go to him.” All the assistants wept to hear him speak in this manner. But he said to them, “You ought rather to rejoice; you know not what is hope, nor what kind of kingdom I am going to possess.” With these sentiments he went joyfully to his death. He seems to have died by the sword. His name occurs in the Martyrology which bears the name of St. Jerom, and in that of Florus. He suffered under Decius or Valerian. See his authentic acts in Ruinart and Henschenius, probably compiled by St. Firmilian, bishop of Cæsarea.

MAY 29 — ST. CONON AND HIS SON, MM. OF ICONIA IN ASIA

This faithful servant of Jesus Christ, after the death of his wife, lived in retirement with his son, whom he offered to the church, and who was made a lector* at the age of twelve, and afterwards became a deacon. About this time Domitian, an officer under the emperor Aurelian, came to Iconia in order to execute the edict which that prince had issued against the Christians; and Conon and his son were among the first who were brought before him. The officer, moved with compassion for the venerable old man, asked him why he had chosen so severe and mortified a life. To which the saint replied: “Those who live according to the spirit of the world are fond of pleasures and ease; but those who live according to the Spirit of God, study to purchase the kingdom of heaven by pain and tribulation. As for me, my desire is to forfeit my life here, that I may forever reign with Jesus Christ.” Whereupon both the father and son were ordered to be stretched on a burning gridiron, and afterwards to be hung up by the feet over a suffocating smoke. Conon, amidst these torments, reproached the executioners for the weakness of their efforts; which so provoked the tyrant, that he caused the hands of the martyrs to be cut off with a wooden saw. Conon then said to him: “Are you not ashamed to see two poor weak persons triumph over all your power?” The martyrs having prayed for some time, calmly breathed their last. They suffered about the year 275, before notice had arrived of the death of Aurelian. Their relics are kept in a church of their name at Acerra, near Naples, to which they were brought in the ninth age, or later. St. Conon and his son are mentioned in the ancient Martyrologies. See their acts, which, though not original, are nevertheless of great antiquity, and written with equal piety and simplicity. The Bollandists give them on the 29th of May. See also Tillemont, Hist. Eccles. t. 4, p. 354.

MAY 29 — SS. SISINNIUS, MARTYRIUS, AND ALEXANDER, MM. IN THE TERRITORY OF TRENT

These three saints, of whom the two last were brothers, came from Cappadocia to Italy in the reign of Theodosius the Elder. They remained some time at Milan, where St. Ambrose treated them with all the respect due to their virtue. St. Virgilius, bishop of Trent, having ordained Sisinnius a deacon, Martyrius a lector, and Alexander a porter, or door-keeper, sent them to preach the gospel in the Alps, where the Christian religion was scarcely known. They exerted their zeal particularly among the inhabitants of the districts of Anania, called afterwards the valley of Anagna, or Egna; and, notwithstanding the opposition and ill-treatment they met with, they at length, by their patience, meekness, and charity, gained a number of souls to Jesus Christ. Sisinnius built a church in the village of Methon, or Medol where he assembled his new converts to complete their instruction.

The pagans perceiving their own number daily diminishing, formed a resolution to oblige the new Christians to assist on one of their festivals at an idolatrous procession; but Sisinnius and his companions labored to withdraw them from it. This so enraged the pagans, that they determined to destroy the holy preachers; and, going to the church where these were singing the divine praises, they beat them with clubs in so cruel a manner, that Sisinnius died in a few hours. Next morning Martyrius and Alexander sung forth the praises of God as calmly as if nothing had happened to them but retired on the approach of the pagans, who came to the church to vent their rage on the bodies of the preachers. They found only that of Sisinnius, to which they offered many indignities: then going in search of his companions, they discovered Martyrius concealed in a garden, and dragged him by the legs over sharp stones, till he gave up his soul to his Redeemer. There remained now only Alexander, who soon fell into their hands. They first endeavored by menaces to make him renounce his faith, and in his presence burned the bodies of Sisinnius and Martyrius, but finding all their attempts fruitless, they cast him into the same fire, where he completed his sacrifice, the 29th of May, 397. The faithful collected the ashes of the three saints, which were conveyed to Trent; afterwards St. Virgilius erected a church on the spot where they suffered, and sent to several bishops the history of their triumph; we have still extant some of his letters on this subject to St. Simplicianus of Milan, and to St. Chrysostom. He also made several distributions of the relics of the three martyrs. See their acts in the Bollandists, with the letters of St. Virgilius of Trent, to St. Simplicianus, and to St. Chrysostom, &c.

MAY 30 — ST. FELIX I., POPE AND MARTYR

See the Bollandists, and Tillemont, t. 4.

A. D. 274.

HE was a Roman by birth, and succeeded St. Dionysius in the government of the church, in 269. Paul of Samosata, the proud bishop of Antioch, to the guilt of many enormous crimes, added that of heresy, teaching that Christ was no more than a mere man, in whom the Divine Word dwelt by its operation, and as its temple, with many other gross errors concerning the capital mysteries of the Trinity and Incarnation. Two councils were held at Antioch to examine his cause, but by various arts and subterfuges he escaped condemnation. However, in a third, assembled at the same place in 269, being clearly convicted of heresy, pride, and many scandalous crimes, he was excommunicated and deposed, and Domnus was substituted in his room. Paul still maintained himself in the possession of the episcopal house. The bishop therefore had recourse to the emperor Aurelian, who, though a pagan, gave an order that the house should belong to him to whom the bishops of Rome and Italy adjudged it, as Eusebius writes.1 St. Felix had before declared himself against that heresiarch; for the council had sent the synodal letter to St. Dionysius, who being dead, it had been delivered to St. Felix. It must have been on that occasion that our holy pope wrote to Maximus, bishop of Alexandria, a learned epistle, quoted by the council of Ephesus, St. Cyril of Alexandria, and St. Vincent of Lerins; in which he clearly explained the Catholic doctrine of the whole mystery of the Incarnation. St. Cyril has preserved us a fragment of it.2 The persecution of Aurelian breaking out, St. Felix, fearless of dangers, strengthened the weak, encouraged all, baptized the catechumens, and continued to exert himself in converting infidels to the faith. He himself obtained the glory of martyrdom; which title is given him by the council of Ephesus,3 by St. Cyri1,4 and by St. Vincent of Lerins.5 He governed the church five years, and passed to a glorious eternity in 274. The western Martyrologies name him on the 30th of May.

The example of Christ, and of all his saints, ought to encourage us under all trials to suffer with patience, and even with joy. We shall soon begin to feel that it is sweet to tread in the steps of a God-man, and shall find that if we courageously take up our crosses, he will make them light by bearing them with us. The soul will find it sweet to be abandoned by creatures, that she may more perfectly feel their emptiness, and learn that men are false and treacherous. Then will she place her whole confidence in God alone, and cleave to him with her whole heart. Forsaken and forgotten by creatures, she finds no relish but in God, who enters her more powerfully, and fills her with his consolations the more sweetly, as she is the more weaned and separated from all earthly things, and more purely adheres to Him, who never forsakes those who sincerely seek Him. O happy exchange! cries out St. Francis of Sales; the soul thus abandoned in the eyes of men, now possesses God instead of creatures.

MAY 30 — ST. WALSTAN, CONFESSOR

From Capgrave, fol. 285, and his old manuscript life. See Blomfield, Hist. of Norfolk, t. 1, p. 641.

A. D. 1016

ST. WALSTAN was formerly much honored at Cossey and Bawburgh, commonly called Baber, two villages four miles from Norwich. He was born at Baber, and of a rich and honorable family. The name of his father was Benedict, that of his mother Blida. By their example and good instructions, he from his infancy conceived an ardent desire to devote himself to God with the greatest perfection possible. In this view, at twelve years of age he renounced his patrimony, left his father’s house, and entered a poor servant at Taverham, a village adjoining to Cossey. He was so charitable that he gave his own victuals to the poor, and sometimes even his shoes, going himself barefoot. He applied himself to the meanest and most painful country labor in a perfect spirit of penance and humility; fasted much, and sanctified his soul and all his actions by assiduous, fervent prayer, and the constant union of his heart with God. He made a vow of celibacy, but never embraced a monastic state. God honored his humility before men by many miracles. He died in the midst of a meadow where he was at work, on the 30th of May, in 1016. His body was interred at Baber: it was carried thither through Cossey or Costessye, where a well still bears his name, as does another which was more famous at Baber, a little below the church. These places were much resorted to by pilgrims, especially to implore the intercession of this saint for the cure of fevers, palsies, lameness, and blindness. His body was enshrined in the north chapel of that church, which chapel was on that account pulled down in the reign of Henry VIII., though the church is still standing. All the mowers and husbandmen in these parts constantly visited it once a year, and innumerable other pilgrims resorted to it, not only from all parts of England, but also from beyond the seas. The church is sacred to the memory of the Blessed Virgin, and of St. Walstan.

MAY 30 — ST. FERDINAND III., CONFESSOR, KING OF CASTILE AND LEON

He was eldest son to Alphonsus, king of Leon, and of Berangera of Castile, elder sister* of Blanche, mother of St. Lewis of France, and was born about the end of the year 1198, or some time in 1199. Berangera had been obliged by pope Innocent III. to a separation from Alphonsus of Leon, after having borne to him two sons, Ferdinand and Alphonsus, and two daughters, because, though in the third degree of consanguinity, they had been married without a dispensation, which was at that time very difficult to be obtained. But because this marriage had been contracted bonâ fide by the decrees of the pope, and the states of the two kingdoms, their children were declared their lawful heirs. Berangera returned to her father Alphonsus IX. of Castile, one of the most valiant and most virtuous kings that ever reigned in Spain, and who was to her the most tender and best of fathers. He dying in 1214, his son Henry, eleven years of age, succeeded him, under the tutorship and regency of his mother, Eleonor of England. But she followed her husband to the grave within twenty-five days; grief for having lost him being the cause of her death. Berangera was charged with the guardianship of her brother and the regency of the kingdom, but out of love of retirement suffered herself to be persuaded to resign both to a nobleman called Don Alvarez, who proved a perfidious, turbulent man, and for several years embroiled all Castile and the neighboring kingdoms. Berangera was a princess of accomplished prudence and piety, and exercises of devotion were her chief delight. King Henry, by the contrivance of Alvarez, at twelve years of age was married to Mafalda, sister to Alphonsus, king of Portugal, but upon an impediment of consanguinity which was proved before commissaries, pope Innocent III. declared the marriage null, and Mafalda returning to Portugal, founded a Cistercian nunnery at Arouca, took herself the veil, and lived in so great sanctity as to be honored among the saints on he 1st of May. The young king Henry died of a wound he received by a tile falling upon his head at Palencia, on the 6th of June, 1217, and Berangera put in her claim to the crown; but transferring her right upon her son Ferdinand, surnamed the Saint, caused him, who was in the eighteenth year of his age, to be proclaimed king at Palencia, Valladolid, and Burgos, having first lodged in the archives of the church of this last city the solemn act of her own resignation. Don Alvarez and other factious spirits filled the kingdom with disturbances and civil wars for several years; but these the young king by his clemency, prudence, and valor, assisted by his mother’s counsels, stifled and overcame. Alvarez was taken and pardoned; and perfidiously renewed his treasonable cabals and broils, both at home and abroad. Though Ferdinand was so great a king, no child ever obeyed a mother with a more ready and perfect submission than he did Berangera to the time of her death, as his ancient historian assures us.1 By her advice he took to wife, in 1219, Beatrix, daughter of Philip of Suabia, emperor of Germany, a most virtuous and accomplished princess. The happy union of their hearts was never disturbed by the least cloud during the fifteen years of their cohabitation; and their marriage was blessed with a numerous family of seven sons and three daughters. St. Ferdinand was severe in the administration and the execution of the laws, but readily pardoned all personal injuries; and no sooner were rebellions crushed, but he granted general amnesties. His prudence, and his constant attention to the care of his people, appeared most conspicuous in the happy choice he always made of governors, magistrates, and generals. Rodriguez, archbishop of Toledo and chancellor of Castile, was during thirty years at the head of all his councils, and so perfectly united with Berangera and St. Ferdinand in all their deliberations as to seem to have but one soul with them. To set a curb to inferior tribunals he established the court, since called the royal council of Castile, which consists of ten auditors, and to which there lies an appeal from all other courts. A code of laws which he caused to be compiled by the most able lawyers,* is still used in that kingdom.

Nothing ever so much troubled our saint, as when his own father, Alphonsus, king of Leon, stirred up by Alvarez, laid claim to and invaded his dominions. St. Ferdinand endeavored by the most dutiful and endearing letters to give him all possible satisfaction, and lent him his own forces to fight against the Moors. With this succor his father conquered Caures, Merida, and Badajoz, and extended his dominions to the frontiers of Andalusia. Being resolved as much as possible never to draw his sword but against the infidels, he restored several places the claims to which seemed doubtful, and waived all occasions of quarrels with the kings of Portugal and Aragon, and with Eleonor of England in Gascony. He founded several bishoprics, and contributed munificently to the building or repairing of many stately cathedrals, other churches, monasteries, and hospitals. No necessity could ever make him impose any heavy tax upon his subjects. In his wars with the Moors, when one suggested to him a method of raising an extraordinary subsidy, he rejected the proposal with indignation; saying, “God would not fail to supply him other ways, and that he feared more the curse of one poor old woman than the whole army of the Moors.” He first marched against them into the kingdom of Baëza, in 1225, and in the second year Aben Mahomet, a prince of the race of the Miramolins of Africa, king of that country, yielded himself up vassal to king Ferdinand, and surrendered to him his strongest holds. In 1230 he took nearly twenty strong places in Andalusia, and in the kingdoms of Cordova and Jaën. Aben Mahomet having been murdered by a general conspiracy of his subjects, because he had made himself vassal to a Christian king who was the sworn enemy of their religion, St. Ferdinand took occasion to conquer the whole kingdom of Baëza, and to erect a bishopric in its capital. His whole conduct bore testimony to the truth of his solemn protestation, in which he appealed to heaven, saying:2 “Thou, O Lord, who searchest the secrets of hearts, knowest that I desire thy glory, not mine; and the increase of thy faith and holy religion, not of transitory kingdoms.” The archbishop Rodriguez performed the solemn office, and all pastoral functions in the army, and the bishop of Palencia in his room one year that he happened to be sick. St. Ferdinand set his soldiers the most perfect example of devotion. He fasted rigorously, prayed much, wore a rough hair-shirt made in the shape of a cross, spent often whole nights in tears and prayers, especially before battles, and gave to God the whole glory of all his victories. In his army he caused an image of the Blessed Virgin to be carried, and wore another small one on his breast, or sometimes when on horseback placed it on the pommel of his saddle before him. From the spoils taken in war he contributed in a truly royal manner to the rebuilding of the most stately cathedral of Toledo, of which he laid the first stone. Several towns which were conquered from the Moors, he gave to the order of Calatrava or others, and to the archbishopric of Toledo, upon condition they should defend them against the infidels. This is the origin of the great riches of that archbishopric, and of the military religious orders in Spain.

St. Ferdinand was marching to lay siege to Jaën in 1230, when he received news of the death of his father Alphonsus of Leon, and was called by his mother to take possession of that kingdom, which from that time has remained united with Castile. It cost him three years to settle the affairs of his new kingdom; but in 1234 he recommenced his wars against the Moors by the siege of Ubeda, which he took after having spent the whole campaign before it. In the mean time the infant Alphonsus, with fifteen hundred men, defeated at Xeres the formidable army of Abenhut, king of Seville, divided into seven bodies of troops, each of which was more numerous than the whole Christian army. From the deposition of several prisoners and others, the Christians concluded that the apostle St. James had appeared at the head of their troops, in the armor of a knight mounted on a white horse; and this victory cost the Christians only the lives of one knight, who had refused to forgive an injury, and ten soldiers. The joy of these victories was allayed by the death of the virtuous queen Beatrix, St. Ferdinand’s consort, who departed this life at Toro, about the beginning of the year 1236. The grief for this loss did not long suspend his warlike operations, and while James, king of Aragon, wrested from the Moors the kingdom of Majorca and that of Valentia, he completed the conquest of the two Moorish kingdoms of Baëza and Cordova. This last city had been in the hands of those infidels five hundred and twenty-four years, and had been long the capital of their empire in Spain, when St. Ferdinand, after a long siege, entered it by capitulation, on SS. Peter and Paul’s day, in 1236. The great mosque was purified by John, bishop of Osma, and converted into a church under the invocation of the Mother of God, and Saint Ferdinand refounded there a bishopric. The great bells of Compostella, which Almansor had caused to be brought hither on the backs of Christians, St. Ferdinand commanded to be carried back on the backs of Moors.

In 1237, by the counsels of his mother, he married a second wife, chiefly at the recommendation of his aunt Blanche, dowager queen of France. This was Jane of Ponthieu, who bore him two sons and a daughter,* and lived in the most happy constant harmony with the queen-mother and the king till their death, and joined them in all their exercises of piety and devotion. The winter they usually spent together; in spring, when the king put himself at the head of his army to march to new conquests, she usually assisted Berangera in superintending the domestic administration of the affairs of state. St. Ferdinand in the campaigns which followed the taking of Cordova made himself master of twenty-four other towns, of which Ecija was the first and Moron the last. Abenhudiel, king of Murcia, voluntarily surrendered his kingdom to king Ferdinand, reserving some open places to himself and certain lords of his country, which they were to hold in vassalage. St. Ferdinand sent his son Alphonsus to take possession of the city of Murcia, to purify the mosques, and establish there a bishopric. The strong cities of Lorca, Mula, and Carthagena, which refused to yield themselves up to him, he took three years after. Arjona and Jaën maintained obstinate sieges, but at length fell into the hands of Ferdinand, with Alcala Real, Ivora, and some other places dependent on Jaën. The loss of this capital so terrified Benalhamar, king of Granada, that he repaired to the camp of Ferdinand, cast himself at the feet of the conqueror, and offered to hold his kingdom of him in vassalage, and to pay him an annual tribute of one hundred and fifty thousand maravedis. These conditions were accepted, and by remaining always faithful to king Ferdinand, he transmitted his kingdom to his posterity. The rich and strong city of Seville, after the death of its king Abenhut, had formed itself into a republic, when king Ferdinand resolved to turn his forces against that place, far the most important which the Moors at that time possessed in Spain. The death of archbishop Rodriguez, his most faithful minister, followed by that of Berangera, his mother, interrupted his preparations for a short time; but motives of religion moderating his grief for the loss of the best of mothers, he had no sooner settled the administration by the orders which he dispatched into Castile, but he resumed his expedition with greater vigor than ever. The siege held sixteen months, Seville being then the largest and strongest city in Spain. Its double walls were very broad and high, and defended by one hundred and sixty-six towers; the western side of the city was secured by the great river Guadalquivir, besides a deep broad moat at the foot of the innermost wall round the city. All provisions were abundantly supplied from the famous garden of Hercules, esteemed by the ancients the most delightful spot of ground in the world, called by the Moors Axarafa. This territory is about thirty miles in length and twelve in breadth, and contained one hundred thousand farms, besides castles and towns. It lay on the right side of the river, where its communication with the city was secured by the castle of Triana on that bank, which was joined by a great iron chain, and a bridge of boats with the golden tower on the opposite bank at the bottom of the city. St. Ferdinand’s fleet defeated that of the Moors, and mounted the river within sight of the castle of Triana; his land forces vanquished the succors sent from Africa, and in daily combats gained continual advantages. Yet the siege was not advanced till in the tenth month, on the feast of the Invention of the Cross in May, Ferdinand’s admiral, by launching two great ships upon the chain and bridge of boats, broke both. Triana was then besieged, and after having been long battered with rams and other engines, and stood many assaults, was at length reduced. The city itself surrendered on the 23d of November, 1249; the Moors were allowed a month to sell or dispose of their goods; three hundred thousand removed to Xeres, one hundred thousand passed into Africa. Axataf, governor general of the Moors at Seville, being arrived at a hill called Belvedere, from which he had a prospect of the sea before him, and of the city behind him, turning towards Seville to take his last leave of that city, said with tears, that only a saint, who by his justice and piety had heaven in his interest in all his undertakings, could ever have taken so rich, so populous, and so strong a city with so small an army; but that God, by his eternal decrees, had taken it from the Moors. St. Ferdinand, after the most solemn thanksgivings to God, implored the intercession of the Virgin Mother before her famous image, which is still preserved, and refounded the cathedral with such magnificence and splendor, that it yielded to no church in Christendom but that of Toledo. The three years which he survived he resided at Seville to settle the tribunals and regulate the affairs of this important conquest; but added at the same time to his dominions Xeres, Medina Sidonia, Alcala de los Gazules, Bejar, Port St. Mary’s, Cadiz, St. Lucar, Arcos, Lebrixa, Rota, Trebuxena, and a great number of other towns and castles. He showed by his example that devotion is consistent with the duties of a king and Christian soldier; he was in all things severe to himself, but compassionate and mild to all others, always master of himself and his passions. He was preparing an expedition against the Moors in Africa, when he was taken with his last sickness. He prepared himself for death by the most edifying sentiments of compunction and a general confession; then called for the viaticum; and while the bishop of Segovia, attended by all the clergy of Seville and the court, brought the holy sacrament, the king rose from his bed, fell on his knees on the floor, put a cord about his neck, and taking a crucifix in his hands kissed and saluted the wounds of his Saviour, watering each of them with his tears. He then made his confession aloud, though he had nothing to accuse himself of which others could think to have been criminal, how much soever he was himself penetrated with confusion and regret for the least appearance of a fault. He made an act of faith in presence of the holy sacrament, which he received pouring forth a flood of years of tender love and devotion. Before his death he called for all his children, gave them excellent instructions with his blessing, and asked pardon of all the world if ever he had given offence to any. In his agony, holding a blessed taper in his hands, he recommended his soul to God through the merits of his crucified Redeemer in the most pathetic aspirations; then caused the clergy to recite near him the Litanies, and afterwards the Te Deum. This was scarce finished when he calmly yielded up his soul into the bands of his Creator on the 30th of May, in the year 1252, the fifty-third of his age, the thirty-fifth of his reign in Castile, and the twenty-second in Leon.* According to his desire he was buried before the image of our Lady, in the great church at Seville, and his body is still preserved in that church in a rich shrine without the least blemish of corruption, and has been honored with miracles. Saint Ferdinand was canonized by Clement X., in 1671. See the Chronicle of Rodriguez Ximenes, archbishop of Toledo, high chancellor of Castile, and minister to St. Ferdinand. This work ends in the year 1243, the twenty-sixth of St. Ferdinand’s reign. Also Luke, bishop of Tuy in Gallicia, another contemporary writer, whose Chronicle ends in 1237, the twentieth of St. Ferdinand. Likewise the general Chronicle of Spain, and the particular Chronicle of Saint Ferdinand, compiled in the reign of his son and successor Alphonsus X. Add the notes of Papebroke, t. 7, Maij. Mariana de Rebus Hispaniæ,1. 12, c. 7, 9, 11, 12, 13, 15, 16, 17;1. 13, c. 1, 2, 3, 7, 8, and F. Orleans, Hist. des Révolutions d’Espagne, t. 1,1. 3, p. 488, &c.

MAY 30 — ST. MAGUIL, IN LATIN MADELGISILUS, RECLUSE IN PICARDY

He is said to have been a native of Ireland, and the inseparable companion of St. Fursey, with whom he passed into France. After the death of that saint (who is honored on the 16th of January) Maguil retired among the monks of St. Riquier, whom he exceedingly edified by his virtues; but fearing that the extraordinary veneration in which he was held might expose him to the suggestions of pride, he with the abbot’s leave hid himself in the solitude of Monstrelet, upon the river Authie, where he served God with new fervor in all the exercises of a contemplative life. Here he was visited by a holy English recluse named Vulgan,† with whom he contracted a strict friendship, and they afterwards lived together for several years. The latter being seized with a mortal illness, endeavored to comfort his companion, whose grief on the occasion was excessive; and exhorting him to have sentiments more becoming a Christian, “You should tremble,” says he, “lest by this grief you offend God, and lose all the fruit of your labors.’ The abbot and monks of St. Riquier, being apprized of the situation of Vulgan, administered him the sacraments, and after his death buried him in the chapel of the hermitage. St. Maguil survived him but a short time, having died about the year 685. His body was buried in the same tomb with that of his holy companion, but was afterwards removed into a church of his name built near St. Riquier. He is honored on this day, which is supposed to be the day on which he died. See his life written in the twelfth age by Hariulf, a monk of St. Riquier, and published with remarks by Mabillon sæc. 4; Bened. p. 2: it is also in the Bollandists, with the notes of Henschenius and Papebroke.

MAY 31 — ST. PETRONILLA, V

Among the disciples of the apostles in the primitive age of saints, this holy virgin shone as a bright star in the church. She lived when Christians were more solicitous to live well than to write much: they knew how to die for Christ; but did not compile long books or disputations,* in which vanity has often a greater share than charity. Hence no particular account of her actions hath been transmitted down to us. But how eminent her sanctity was we may judge from the lustre by which it was distinguished among apostles, prophets, and martyrs. Her name is the feminine and diminutive of Peter, and she is said to have been a daughter of the apostle St. Peter, which tradition is confirmed by certain writings quoted by the Manichees in the time of St. Austin,1 which affirm that St. Peter had a daughter whom he cured of a palsy. That St. Peter was married before his vocation to the apostleship we learn from the gospel; though St. Jerom and other ancient fathers testify that he lived in continency after his call. St. Clement of Alexandria assures us,2 that his wife attained to the glory of martyrdom; at which that apostle himself encouraged her, bidding her to remember our Lord. But it seems not certain whether St. Petronilla was more than the spiritual daughter of that apostle. She flourished at Rome, and was buried on the way to Ardea, where anciently a cemetery and a church bore her name; so famous, that in it a station or place for the assembly of the city in public prayer, was established by Gregory III. She is commemorated in the true Martyrology of Bede, in those which bear the name of St. Jerom, &c.

The saints, whether in sickness or in health, in public or in private life, devoted all their thoughts and actions to God, and thus sanctified all their employments. The great end for which they lived was always present to their minds, and they thought every moment lost in which they did not make some advances towards eternal bliss. How will their example condemn at the last day the trifling fooleries, and the greatest part of the conversation and employments of the world, which aim at nothing but present amusements, as if it were the business of a rational creature to divert his mind from thought and reflection, and forget the only affair.—the business of eternity.

MAY 31 — SAINTS CANTIUS AND CANTIANUS, BROTHERS, AND CANTIANILLA THEIR SISTER, MM

If riches are loaded with the curses of the gospel, because to many they prove dangerous, and afford the strongest incentives to the passions, the greater is their crown who make them the means of their sanctification. This circumstance enhances the glory of these holy martyrs. They were of the most illustrious family of the Anicii in Rome, and near relations to the emperor Carinus, who was himself a favorer of the Christians in Gaul They were brought up together in their own palace in Rome, under the care of a pious Christian preceptor named Protus, who instructed them in the faith, and in the most perfect maxims of our divine religion. When the persecution of Dioclesian began to fill Rome with terror, they sold their possessions in that city, and retired to Aquileia, where they had a good estate. The bloody edicts had also reached that country, and Sisinnius, general of the forces, and Dulcidius, the governor of the province, were busied night and day in making the strictest search after Christians, and in filling the prisons with crowds of confessors. No sooner were they informed of the arrival of our saints, but they summoned them to appear and offer sacrifice, and at the same time by a messenger acquainted the emperor with what they had done, begging his instructions how they ought to proceed with regard to persons of their rank. Dioclesian sent an order that they should be beheaded in case they refused to worship the gods. The martyrs had left Aquileia in a chariot drawn by mules, but were stopped by an accident four miles out of the town, at Aquæ-Gradatæ. Hither Sisinnius pursued them, carrying with him the order of the emperor. He entreated and conjured them to comply; but they answered, that nothing should make them unfaithful to God, declaring that all who should worship idols would be punished with everlasting fire. Wherefore they were all beheaded, together with Protus their preceptor, in the year 304. Zœlus, a priest, honorably embalmed and buried their bodies in the same monument. The place hath since changed its name of Aquæ-Gradatæ for that of San-Cantiano. See their acts published genuine by Mabillon, in an appendix to his Gallican Liturgy, p. 467, and a panegyric, probably of St. Maximus of Turin, extant among the sermons of St. Ambrose, t. 2, Append, col. 458.