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

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

OCTOBER 1 — SAINT REMIGIUS, CONFESSOR ARCHBISHOP OF RHEIMS

From his ancient life now lost, but abridged by Fortunatus, and his life compiled by archbishop Hincmar, with a history of the translation of his relics. See also St. Gregory of Tours,1. 2; Fleury.1. 29, n. 44, &c.; Ceillier, t. 16; Rivet, Hist. Littr. de la Fr. t. 3, p. 155; Suysken the Bollandist. t. 1, Octob. pp. 59, 187.

A. D. 583.

ST. REMIGIUS, the great apostle of the French nation, was one of the brightest lights of the Gaulish church, illustrious for his learning, eloquence, sanctity, and miracles. An episcopacy of seventy years, and many great actions, have rendered his name famous in the annals of the church. His very birth was wonderful, and his life was almost a continued miracle of divine grace. His father Emilius, and his mother Cilinia, both descended of noble Gaulish families, enjoyed an affluent fortune, lived in splendor suitable to their rank at the castle of Laon, and devoted themselves to the exercise of all Christian virtues. St. Remigius seems to have been born in the year 439.* He had two brothers older than himself, Principius, bishop of Soissons, and another whose name is not known, but who was father of St. Lupus, who was afterwards one of his uncle’s successors in the episcopal see of Soissons. A hermit named Montanus foretold the birth of our saint to his mother; and the pious parents had a special care of his education, looked upon him as a child blessed by heaven, and were careful to put him into the best hands.

His nurse Balsamia is reckoned among the saints, and is honored at Rheims in a collegiate church which bears her name. She had a son called Celsin, who was afterwards a disciple of our saint, and is known at Laon by the name of St. Soussin. St. Remigius had an excellent genius, made great progress in learning, and in the opinion of St. Apollinaris Sidonius, who was acquainted with him in the earlier part of his life, he became the most eloquent person in that age.1 He was remarkable from his youth for his extraordinary devotion and piety, and for the severity of his morals. A secret apartment in which he spent a great part of his time in close retirement, in the castle of Laon, while he lived there, was standing in the ninth century, and was visited with devout veneration when Hincmar wrote. Our saint, earnestly thirsting after greater solitude, and the means of a more sublime perfection, left his father’s house, and made choice of a retired abode, where, having only God for witness, he abandoned himself to the fervor of his zeal in fasting, watching, and prayer. The episcopal see of Rheims† becoming vacant by the death of Bennagius, Remigius, though only twenty-two years of age, was compelled, notwithstanding his extreme reluctance, to take upon him that important charge; his extraordinary abilities seeming to the bishops of the province a sufficient reason for dispensing with the canons in point of age. In this new dignity, prayer, meditation on the holy scriptures, the instruction of the people, and the conversion of infidels, heretics, and sinners, were the constant employment of the holy pastor. Such was the fire and unction with which he announced the divine oracles to all ranks of men, that he was called by many a second St. Paul. St. Apollinaris Sidonius2 was not able to find terms to express his admiration of the ardent charity and purity with which this zealous bishop offered at the altar an incense of sweet odor to God, and of the zeal with which by his words he powerfully subdued the wildest hearts, and brought them under the yoke of virtue, inspiring the lustful with the love of purity, and moving hardened sinners to bewail heir offences with tears of sincere compunction. The same author, who, for his eloquence and piety, was one of the greatest lights of the church in that age, testifies,3 that he procured copies of the sermons of this admirable bishop, which he esteemed an invaluable treasure; and says that in them he admired the loftiness of the thoughts, the judicious choice of the epithets, the gracefulness and propriety of the figures, and the justness, strength, and closeness of the reasoning, which he compares to the vehemence of thunder; the words flowed like a gentle river, but every part in each discourse was so naturally connected, and the style so even and smooth, that the whole carried with it an irresistible force. The delicacy and beauty of the thoughts and expression were at the same time enchanting, this being so smooth, that it might be compared to the smoothest ice or crystal upon which a nail runs without meeting with the least rub or unevenness. Another main excellency of these sermons consisted in the sublimity of the divine maxims which they contained, and the unction and sincere piety with which they were delivered; but the holy bishop’s sermons and zealous labors derived their greatest force from the sanctity of his life, which was supported by an extraordinary gift of miracles. Thus was St. Remigius qualified and prepared by God to be made the apostle of a great nation.

The Gauls, who had formerly extended their conquests by large colonies in Asia, had subdued a great part of Italy, and brought Rome itself to the very brink of utter destruction,* were at length reduced under the Roman yoke by Julius Csar, fifty years before the Christian era. It was the custom of those proud conquerors, as St. Austin observes,4 to impose the law of their own language upon the nations which they subdued.† After Gaul had been for the space of about five hundred years one of the richest and most powerful provinces of the Roman empire, it fell into the hands of the French; but these new masters, far from extirpating or expelling the old Roman or Gaulish inhabitants, became, by a coalition with them, one people, and took up their language and manners.* Clovis, at his accession to the crown, was only fifteen years old: he became the greatest conqueror of his age, and is justly styled the founder of the French monarchy. Even while he was a pagan he treated the Christians, especially the bishops, very well, spared the churches, and honored holy men, particularly St. Remigius, to whom he caused one of the vessels of his church, which a soldier had taken away, to be returned, and because the man made some demur, slew him with his own hand. St. Clotildis, whom he married in 493, earnestly endeavored to persuade him to embrace the faith of Christ. The first fruit of their marriage was a son, who, by the mother’s procurement, was baptized, and called Ingomer. This child died during the time of his wearing the white habit, within the first week after his baptism. Clovis harshly reproached Clotildis, and said, “If he had been consecrated in the name of my gods, he had not died; but having been baptized in the name of yours, he could not live.” The queen answered: “I thank God, who has thought me worthy of bearing a child whom he has called to his kingdom.” She had afterwards another son, whom she procured to be baptized, and who was named Chlodomir. He also fell sick, and the king said in great anger: “It could not be otherwise: he will die presently, in the same manner his brother did, having been baptized in the name of your Christ.” God was pleased to put the good queen to this trial; but by her prayers this child recovered.5 She never ceased to exhort the king to forsake his idols, and to acknowledge the true God; but he held out a long time against all her arguments, till, on the following occasion, God was pleased wonderfully to bring him to the confession of his holy name, and to dissipate that fear of the world which chiefly held him back so long, he being apprehensive lest his pagan subjects should take umbrage at such a change.

The Suevi and Alemanni in Germany assembled a numerous and valiant army, and under the command of several kings, passed the Rhine, hoping to dislodge their countrymen the Franks, and obtain for themselves the glorious spoils of the Roman empire in Gaul. Clovis marched to meet them near his frontiers, and one of the fiercest battles recorded in history was fought at Tolbiac. Some think that the situation of these German nations, the shortness of the march of Clovis, and the route which he took, point out the place of this battle to have been somewhere in Upper Alsace.6 But most modern historians agree that Tolbiac is the present Zulpich, situated in the dutchy of Juliers, four leagues from Cologue, between the Meuse and the Rhine; and this is demonstrated by the judicious and learned d’Anville.7 In this engagement the king had given the command of the infantry to his cousin Sigebert, fighting himself at the head of the cavalry. The shock of the enemy was so terrible, that Sigebert was in a short time carried wounded out of the field, and the infantry was entirely routed, and put to flight. Clovis saw the whole weight of the battle falling on his cavalry; yet stood his ground, fighting himself like a lion, covered with blood and dust; and encouraging his men to exert their utmost strength, he performed with them wonderful exploits of valor. Notwithstanding these efforts, they were at length borne down, and began to flee and disperse themselves; nor could they be rallied by the commands and entreaties of their king, who saw the battle upon which his empire depended, quite desperate. Clotildis had said to him in taking leave: “My lord, you are going to conquest; but in order to be victorious, invoke the God of the Christians: he is the sole Lord of the universe, and is styled the God of armies. If you address yourself to him with confidence, nothing can resist you. Though your enemies were a hundred against one, you would triumph over them.” The king called to mind these her words in his present extremity, and lifting up his eyes to heaven, said, with tears, “O Christ, whom Clotildis invokes as Son of the living God, I implore thy succour. I have called upon my gods, and find they have no power. I therefore invoke thee; I believe in thee. Deliver me from my enemies, and I will be baptized in thy name.” No sooner had he made this prayer than his scattered cavalry began to rally about his person; the battle was renewed with fresh vigor, and the chief king and generalissimo of the enemy being slain, the whole army threw down their arms, and begged for quarter. Clovis granted them their lives and liberty upon condition that the country of the Suevi in Germany should pay him an annual tribute. He seems to have also subdued and imposed the same yoke upon the Boioarians, or Bavariaus; for his successors gave that people their first princes or dukes, as F. Daniel shows at large. This miraculous victory was gained in the fifteenth year of his reign, of Christ 496.

Clovis, from that memorable day, thought of nothing but of preparing himself for the holy laver of regeneration. In his return from this expedition he passed by Toul, and there took with him St. Vedast, a holy priest who led a retired life in that city, that he might be instructed by him in the faith during his journey; so impatient was he to fulfil his vow of becoming a Christian, that the least wilful delay appeared to him criminal. The queen, upon this news, sent privately to St. Remigius to come to her, and went with him herself to meet the king in Champagne. Clovis no sooner saw her, but he cried out to her, “Clovis has vanquished the Alemanni, and you have triumphed over Clovis. The business you have so much at heart is done; my baptism can be no longer delayed.” The queen answered, “To the God of hosts is the glory of both these triumphs due.” She encouraged him forthwith to accomplish his vow, and presented to him St. Remigius as the most holy bishop in his dominions. This great prelate continued his instruction, and prepared him for baptism by the usual practices of fasting, penance, and prayer. Clovis suggested to him that he apprehended the people that obeyed him would not be willing to forsake their gods, but said he would speak to them according to his instructions. He assembled the chiefs of his nation for this purpose; but they prevented his speaking, and cried out with a loud voice, “My Lord, we abandon mortal gods, and are ready to follow the immortal God, whom Remigius teaches.” St. Remigius and St. Vedast therefore instructed and prepared them for baptism. Many bishops repaired to Rheims for this solemnity, which they judged proper to perform on Christmas-day, rather than to defer it till Easter. The king set the rest an example of compunction and devotion, laying aside his purple and crown, and, covered with ashes, imploring night and day the divine mercy. To give an external pomp to this sacred action, in order to strike the senses of a barbarous people, and impress a sensible awe and respect upon their minds, the good queen took care that the streets from the palace to the great church should be adorned with rich hangings, and that the church and baptistery should be lighted up with a great number of perfumed wax tapers, and scented with exquisite odors. The catechumens marched in procession, carrying crosses, and singing the Litany. St. Remigius conducted the king by the hand, followed by the queen and the people. Coming near the sacred font, the holy bishop, who had with great application softened the heart of this proud barbarian conqueror into sentiments of Christian meekness and humility, said to him, “Bow down your neck with meekness, great Sicambrian prince: adore what you have hitherto burnt; and burn what you have hitherto adored.” Words which may be emphatically addressed to every penitent, to express the change of his heart and conduct, in renouncing the idols of his passions, and putting on the spirit of sincere Christian piety and humility. The king was baptized by St. Remigius on Christmas-day, as St. Avitus assures us.8 St. Remigius afterwards baptized Albofleda, the king’s sister, and three thousand persons of his army, that is, of the Franks, who were yet only a body of troops dispersed among the Gauls. Albofleda died soon after, and the king being extremely afflicted at her loss, St. Remigius wrote him a letter of consolation, representing to him the happiness of such a death in the grace of baptism, by which we ought to believe she had received the crown of virgins.9 Lantilda, another sister of Clovis, who had fallen into the Arian heresy, was reconciled to the Catholic faith, and received the unction of the holy chrism, that is, says Fleury, confirmation; though some think it only a rite used in the reconciliation of certain heretics. The king, after his baptism, bestowed many lands on St. Remigius, who distributed them to several churches, as he did the donations of several others among the Franks, lest they should imagine he had attempted their conversion out of interest. He gave a considerable part to St. Mary’s church at Laon, where he had been brought up; and established Genebald, a nobleman skilled in profane and divine learning, first bishop of that see. He had married a niece of St. Remigius, but was separated from her to devote himself to the practices of piety. Such was the original of the bishopric of Laon, which before was part of the diocese of Rheims. St. Remigius also constituted Theodore bishop of Tournay in 487; St. Vedast, bishop of Arras in 498, and of Cambray in 510. He sent Antimund to preach the faith to the Morini, and to found the church of Terouenne. Clovis built churches in many places, conferred upon them great riches, and by an edict invited all his subjects to embrace the Christian faith. St. Avitus, bishop of Vienne, wrote to him a letter of congratulation upon his baptism, and exhorts him to send ambassadors to the remotest German nations beyond the Rhine, to solicit them to open their hearts to the faith.

When Clovis was preparing to march against Alaric, in 506, St. Remigius sent him a letter of advice how he ought to govern his people so as to draw down upon himself the divine blessings.10 “Choose,” said he. “wise counsellors, who will be an honor to your reign. Respect the clergy. Be the father and protector of your people; let it be your study to lighten as much as possible all the burdens which the necessities of the state may oblige them to bear: comfort and relieve the poor; feed the orphans; protect the widows; suffer no extortion. Let the gate of your palace be open to all, that every one may have recourse to you for justice employ your great revenues in redeeming captives,” &c.* Clovis after his victories over the Visigoths, and the conquest of Toulouse, their capital in Gaul, sent a circular letter to all the bishops in his dominions, in which he allowed them to give liberty to any of the captives he had taken, but desired them only to make use of this privilege in favor of persons of whom they had some knowledge.11 Upon the news of these victories of Clovis ever the Visigoths, Anastatius, the eastern emperor, to court his alliance against the Goths, who had principally concurred to the extinction of the western empire, sent him the ornaments and titles of Patrician, Consul, and Augustus: from which time he was habited in purple, and styled himself Augustus. This great conqueror invaded Burgundy to compel king Gondebald to allow a dower to his queen, and to revenge the murder of her father and uncle; but was satisfied with the yearly tribute which the tyrant promised to pay him. The perfidious Arian afterwards murdered his third brother; whereupon Clovis again attacked and vanquished him; but at the entreaty of Clotildis, suffered him to reign tributary to him, and allowed his son Sigismond to ascend the throne after his death. Under the protection of this great monarch, St. Remigius wonderfully propagated the gospel of Christ by the conversion of a great part of the French nation; in which work God endowed him with an extraordinary gift of miracles, as we are assured not only by Hincmar, Flodoard, and all other historians who have mentioned him, but also by other incontestable monuments and authorities Not to mention his Testament, in which mention is made of his miracles, the bishops who were assembled in the celebrated conference that was held a Lyons against the Arians in his time, declared they were stirred up to exert their zeal in defence of the Catholic faith by the example of Remigius, “Who,” say they,12 “hath everywhere destroyed the altars of the idols by a multitude of miracles and signs.” The chief among these prelates were Stephen, bishop of Lyons, St. Avitus of Vienne, his brother Apollinaris of Valence, and Eonius of Aries. They all went to wait upon Gondebald, the Arian king of the Burgundians, who was at Savigny, and entreated him to command his Arian bishops to hold a public conference with them. When he showed much unwillingness they all prostrated themselves before him, and wept bitterly. The king was sensibly affected at the sight, and kindly raising them up, promised to give them an answer soon after. They went back to Lyons, and the king returning thither the next day, told them their desire was granted. It was the eve of St. Justus, and the Catholic bishops passed the whole night in the church of that saint in devout prayer; the next day, at the hour appointed by the king, they repaired to his palace, and, before him and many of his senators, entered upon the disputation, St. Avitus speaking for the Catholics, and one Boniface for the Arians. The latter answered only by clamors and injurious language, treating the Catholics as worshippers of three Gods. The issue of a second meeting, some days after, was the same with that of the first: and many Arians were converted. Gondebald himself, some time after, acknowledged to St. Avitus, that he believed the Son and the Holy Ghost to be equal to the Father, and desired him to give him privately the unction of the holy chrism. St. Avitus said to him, “Our Lord declares, Whoever shall confess me before men, him will I confess before my Father. You are a king, and have no persecution to fear, as the apostles had. You fear a sedition among the people, but ought not to cherish such a weakness. God does not love him, who, for an earthly kingdom, dares not confess him before the world.”13 The king knew not what to answer; but never had the courage to make a public profession of the Catholic faith.* St. Remigius, by his zealous endeavors promoted the Catholic interest in Burgundy, and entirely crushed both idolatry and the Arian heresy in the French dominions. In a synod he converted, in his old age, an Arian bishop who came thither to dispute against him.14 King Clovis died in 511. St. Remigius survived him many years, and died in the joint reign of his four sons, on the 13th of January in the year 533, according to Rivet, and in the ninety-fourth year of his age, having been bishop above seventy years. The age before the irruption of the Franks had been of all others the most fruitful in great and learned men in Gaul; but studies were there at the lowest ebb from the time of St. Remigius’s death, till they were revived in the reign of Charlemagne.15 The body of this holy archbishop was buried in St. Christopher’s church at Rheims, and found incorrupt when it was taken up by archbishop Hincmar in 852. Pope Leo IX., during a council which he held at Rheims in 1049, translated it into the church of the Benedictin abbey, which bears his name in that city, on the 1st of October, on which day, in memory of this and other translations, he appointed his festival to be celebrated, which, in Florus and other calendars, was before marked on the 13th of January. In 1646 this saint’s body was again visited by the archbishop with many honorable witnesses, and found incorrupt and whole in all its parts; but the skin was dried, and stuck to the winding-sheet, as it was described by Hincmar above eight hundred years before. It is now above twelve hundred years since his death.16

Care, watchings, and labors were sweet to this good pastor, for the sake of souls redeemed by the blood of Jesus. Knowing what pains our Redeemer took, and how much he suffered for sinners, during the whole course of his mortal life, and how tenderly his divine heart is ever open to them, this faithful minister was never weary in preaching, exhorting, mourning, and praying for those that were committed to his charge. In imitation of the good shepherd and prince of pastors, he was always ready to lay down his life for their safety: he bore them all in his heart, and watched over them, always trembling lest any among them should perish, especially through his neglect: for he considered with what indefatigable rage the wolf watched continually to devour them. As all human endeavors are too weak to discover the wiles and repulse the assaults of the enemy, without the divine light and strength, this succor he studied to obtain by humble supplications; and when he was not taken up in external service for his flock, he secretly poured forth his soul in devout prayer before God for himself and them.

OCTOBER 1 — ST. BAVO, ANCHORET, PATRON OF GHENT

This great model of penance, called Allowin, surnamed Bavo, was a nobleman, and native of that part of Brabant called Hasbain, at present comprised in the territory of Liege. After having led a very irregular life, and being left a widower by the death of his wife, he was moved to a sincere conversion to God by a sermon which he heard St. Amand preach. The apostolical man had no sooner finished his discourse, but Bavo followed him, and threw himself at his feet, bathed in a flood of tears. Sobs expressed the sorrow and emotions of his heart more eloquently than any words could have done, and it was some time before his voice was able to break through his sighs. When he had somewhat recovered himself, he confessed himself the basest and most ungrateful of all sinners, and earnestly begged to be directed in the paths of true penance and salvation. The holy pastor, who saw in his unfeigned tears the sincerity of his compunction, was far from flattering him in the beginning of his work, by which his penance would have remained imperfect; and while he encouraged him by the consideration of the boundless mercy of God, he set before his eyes the necessity of appeasing the divine indignation by a course of penance proportioned to the enormity of his offences, and of applying powerful remedies to the deep wounds of his soul, that his inveterate distempers might be radically cured, his vicious inclinations perfectly corrected and reformed, and his heart become a new creature. By these instructions Bavo was more and more penetrated with the most sincere sentiments of compunction, made his confession, and entered upon a course of canonical penance.* Going home he distributed all his moveables and money among the poor, and having settled his affairs, retired to the monastery at Ghent, where he received the tonsure at the hands of St. Amand, and was animated by his instructions to advance daily in the fervor of his penance, and in the practice of all virtues. “It is a kind of apostacy,” said that prudent director to him, “for a soul which has had the happiness to see the nothingness of this world, and the depth of her spiritual miseries, not to raise herself daily more and more above them, and to make continual approaches nearer to God.”

Bavo considered that self-denial and penance are the means by which a penitent must punish sin in himself, and are also one part of the remedy by which he must heal his perverse inclinations, and carnal passions. He therefore seemed to set no bounds to the ardor with which he labored to consummate the sacrifice of his penance by the baptism of his tears, the compunction and humiliation of his heart, the mortification of his will, and the rigor of his austerities. To satisfy his devotion, St. Amand after some time gave him leave to lead an eremitical life. He first chose for his abode a hollow trunk of a large tree, but afterwards built himself a cell in the forest of Malmedun near Ghent, where wild herbs and water were his chief subsistence. He returned to the monastery of St. Peter at Ghent, where St. Amand had appointed St. Floribert the first abbot over a community of clerks, says he original author of our saint’s life. With the approbation of St. Floribert Bavo built himself a new cell in another neighboring wood where he lived a recluse, intent only on invisible goods, in an entire oblivion of creatures. He died on the 1st of October, about the year 653, according to Mabillon, but according to Henschenius, 657.1 Perier rather thinks it 654. The holy bishop St. Amand, the abbot of St. Floribert with his monks, and Domlinus the priest of Turholt, were present at his glorious passage, attending him in prayer. The example of his conversion moved sixty gentlemen to devote themselves to an austere penitential life. By them the church of St. Bavo was founded at Ghent, served first by a college of canons, but afterwards changed into a monastery of the holy order of St. Benedict. It was again reduced to its primitive state, being secularized by pope Paul III. in 1537, at the request of the emperor Charles V., who, building a citadel in that part, three years after, transferred the canons to St. John’s, which from that time possesses the relics, and bears the name of St. Bavo. When the bishopric of Ghent was erected by Paul IV. in 1559, at the petition of king Philip II. this church was made the cathedral. Cornelius Jansenius, author of a learned Concordance, or Harmony of the Gospels and other works, was nominated the first bishop. He is not to be confounded with the famous Cornelius Jansenius, bishop of Ipres. An arm of St. Bavo is kept in a silver case at Haerlem, of which church he is the titular saint and patron, in the same manner as at Ghent. See the life of St. Bavo, written in the eighth century, published by Mabillon, sc. 2, Ben. Another compiled by Theodoric, abbot of St. Tron’s, in the twelfth century, is extant in Surius, but not of equal authority. See also the history of many miracles, wrought by his relics, in three books. Among the moderns, Le Cointe, ad an. 649; Pagi, in Critica in Annal. Baron, ad an. 631, n. 13; Batavia sacra, p. 27; Ant. Sanderus Rerum Gandavensium, c. 4, p. 241,—this author gives us the history of the church of St. Bavo, now the cathedra1,1. 5, p. 390; Perier the Bollandist, from p. 198 to 303, t. 1, Octob.

OCTOBER 1 — ST. PIAT, APOSTLE OF TOURNAY, M

St. Piat, or PIATON, a zealous priest, came from Italy, being a native of Benevento, to preach the gospel in Gaul, probably about the same time with St. Dionysius of Paris, and his companions. Penetrating as far as Belgic Gaul, he converted to the faith the country about Tournay, and was crowned with martyrdom, as it seems, under the cruel governor Rictius Varus, about the year 286, about the beginning of the reign of Maximian Herculeus, who then marched into Gaul. His body was pierced by the persecutors with many huge nails, such as were used in joining beams or rafters, and are de scribed by Galloni and Mamachi among the instruments of torture used by the Romans. St. Piat seems to have suffered torments at Tournay, the capital, but to have finished his martyrdom at Seclin. This martyr’s body was discovered in the seventh century at Seclin, pierced with these nails, by St. Eligius of Noyon, as St. Owen relates in his life of St. Eligius. He was before honored there, or St. Eligius would not have sought his body in that place. It is enshrined in the collegiate church which bears his name at Seclin, a village between Lille and Tournay, the ancient capital of the small territory called Medenentensis, now Melantois; and he is honored at the apostle and patron of that country. In the invasions of the Normans the relics of SS. Bavo, Wandrille, Aubert, Wulfran, Wasnulf, Piat, Bainus Winnoc, and Austreberte were conveyed to St. Omer, and there secured forty years, according to the chronicle of the Normans in Duchesne, and 846. Those of St. Piat were in another invasion conveyed to Chartres, and part still remains there in a collegiate church of canons, which bears his name. Fulbert of Chartres has left us a hymn in his honor. The body of St. Eubertus, or Eugenius, his companion and fellow-martyr, is kept in the great collegiate church of St. Peter at Lille, which was founded and richly endowed by Baldwin of Lille, earl of Flanders, in 1066. See Tillemont, t. 14; Molanus in Calend. Flandr. Stilting, t. 1, Octob. p. 1–26, who gives his most ancient Acts, since interpolated in two editions. See also Ado Usuard, Georgi, &c.

OCTOBER 1 — ST. WASNULF, OR WASNON, C. PATRON OF CONDE

The Scots from Ireland and North Britain, not content to plant the faith in the isles of Orkney, in the Hebrides or Western islands, and in other neighboring places, travelled also into remote kingdoms, to carry thither the light of the gospel. Thence came St. Mansuetus, the first bishop of Toul in Lorraine, St. Rumold, patron of Mechlin, St. Colman, M., &c. Several Scottish monasteries were founded in Germany by eminent monks who came from that country, as at Vienna in Austria, at Strasburg, Eichstade, Nuremberg, Constance, Wurtzburg, Erfurth, two at Cologne, and two at Ratisbon.* Out of these only three remain at present in the hands of Scottish Benedictin monks, those at Erfurth and Wurtzburg, and that of St. James at Ratisbon. In the seventh century St. Vincent, count of Haynault, invited many holy monks from Ireland and Scotland, then seminaries of saints, into the Nether lands. Among these St. Wasnulf was the most renowned. He was a Scottish priest and preacher, (not a bishop, as some moderns pretend,) and finished his course about the year 651, at Conde, where his body still reposes in a collegiate church endowed with twenty-four canonries. In his apostolical labors he illustrated that country with miracles, says Baldericus, or rather the anonymous author of Chron. Camer.1. 2, c. 42. See Molanus, in Nat. Sanct. Belgii, 1 Oct.; Mirus, and the Bollandists, t. 1, Oct. p. 304.

OCTOBER 1 — ST. FIDHARLEUS OF IRELAND, ABBOT

The Irish calendars commemorate on this day St. Fidharleus, abbot of Raithen, who departed to our Lord in 762. See Colgan, MSS.

OCTOBER 1 — ON THE FIRST SUNDAY OF OCTOBER THE FESTIVAL OF THE ROSARY

This festival† was instituted to implore the divine mercy in favor of the church and of all the faithful, and to thank the Almighty for the protection he has afferded them, and for the innumerable benefits he has conferred upon them, particularly for his having delivered Christendom from the arms of the infidels by the miraculous victory of Lepanto in 1571,1 through the patronage and intercesion of the Mother of God, implored with extraordinary fervor in the devotion of the Rosary. To the same means pope Clement XI. acknowledged the church to be indebted for the wonderful victory which prince Eugene of Savoy obtained over the Turks near Belgrade in 1716. Upon which account his holiness caused one of the five standards which were taken from the infidels, and which was sent him by the emperor, to be hung up in the Dominicans’ church of the Rosary in Rome. At that time the infidels, with an army of two hundred thousand men, held the Christian army, as it were, besieged near Belgrade, and had a garrison of twenty thousand men in that strong city, then the bulwark of their empire. The isle of Corfu was also beleaguered by an army of forty thousand of the same infidels. The victory of the Christians was followed by the taking of Belgrade, and the deliverance of Corfu, and also the preservation of all Germany and Italy, which were next threatened.

The Rosary is a practice of devotion, in which, by fifteen Our Fathers, and one hundred and fifty Hail Marys, the faithful are taught to honor our divine Redeemer in the fifteen principal mysteries of his sacred life, and of his holy Mother. It is therefore an abridgment of the gospel, a history of the life, sufferings, and triumphant victory of Jesus Christ, and an exposition of what he did in the flesh, which he assumed for our salvation. It ought certainly to be the principal object of the devotion of every Christian always to bear in mind these holy mysteries, to return to God a perpetual homage of love, praise, and thanksgiving for them, to implore his mercy through them, to make them the subject of his assiduous meditation, and to mould his affections, regulate his life, and form his spirit by the holy impressions which they make on his soul. The Rosary2 is a method of doing this, most easy in itself, and adapted to the slowest or meanest capacity; and, at the same time, most sublime and faithful in the exercise of all the highest acts of prayer, contemplation, and all interior virtues. These are admirably comprised in the divine prayer which our Lord himself vouchsafed to teach us, which pious persons, who penetrate the spirit of each word in those holy petitions, can never be weary in repeating, but must recite every time with new fervor, and with more ardent sentiments of love and piety. To obtain mercy and all graces, no prayer certainly can be offered to God more efficacious or pleasing than that which was indited, and is put into our hearts and mouths by his divine Son, our blessed Redeemer himself. Neither can any acts of humility, compunction, love, or praise, be thought of more sublime. All other good prayers are but paraphrases or expositions of this. It is more especially agreeable and honorable to God, and beneficial to us, when it is offered in honor of the most holy mysteries of our redemption, to pay the homage of our love and thanksgiving for them, and to implore God’s tender mercy, love, and compassion by the same. To honor explicitly each mystery, some express it in the prayer, as adding to the name Jesus in the Hail Mary, who was born, crucified, &c. for us; but this is better done by representing to God in our minds the mysteries implied in those words. Thus, in repeating Our Father, &c., we bear in mind, by whose decree his eternal Son was born in a stable, or sweat blood in his agony, &c.: at Hallowed be thy name, we add in thought, particularly for his Son’s nativity, crucifixion, &c.

The Angelical Salutation is often repeated in the Rosary, because, as it contains a form of praise for the Incarnation, it best suits a devotion Instituted to honor the principal parts of that great mystery. Though it be addressed to the Mother of God, with an invocation of her intercession, it is chiefly a praise and thanksgiving to the Son, for the divine mercy in each part of that wonderful mystery. The Holy Ghost is the principal author of this holy prayer, which the archangel Gabriel, the ambassador of the Blessed Trinity in the most wonderful of all mysteries, began; St. Elizabeth, another organ of the Holy Ghost, continued, and the church finished. The first and second part consist of the sacred praises which were bestowed on the Blessed Virgin by the archangel Gabrie1,3 and by St. Elizabeth inspired by the Holy Ghost.4 The last part was added by the church, and contains a petition of her intercession, styling her Mother of God, with the general counsel of Ephesus against the blasphemies of Nestorius.

We add to the angel’s salutation the name of this holy Virgin, this being a name of veneration and sweetness to every devout Christian. The word Miriam, or Mary, is expounded by St. Jerom, from different etymologies, to Signify in Hebrew, a Star of the sea, or Bitter sea, and in Chaldaic, Lady.5 Both the names Lady and Sea-star admirably agree to her who is the glorious queen of heaven, and our star and patroness in the stormy sea of this world. Other Hebrew women had borne this name, as the sister of Moses. but in them it was only a shadow; in the Mother of God it expressed the sublime dignity of her sacred person. We are not to pass over as insignificant those words of the evangelist, And the name of the virgin was Mary.6 For her very name is not without a mystery, and ought to be to us most amiable, sweet, and awful. “Of such virtue and excellency is this name, that the heavens exult, the earth rejoices, and the angels sound forth hymns of praise when Mary is named,” says St. Bernard.7 That devout client of Mary and holy father observes,8 that she is truly the star which arose from Jacob, and which being placed above this wide tempestuous sea, shines forth by the merits and example of her life. “O you,” goes on that devout father, “who find yourself tossed in the tempests of this world, turn not your eyes from the brightness of this star, if ye would not be overwhelmed by storms. If the winds of temptations rise, if you fall among the rocks of tribulations, look up at the star, call on Mary. If you are tossed by the waves of pride, ambition, detraction, jealousy, or envy, look up at the star, call on Mary. If anger, covetousness. or lust beat on the vessel of your soul, look up on Mary. If you begin to sink in the gulf of melancholy and despair, think on Mary. In dangers, in distresses, in perplexities, think on Mary, call on Mary; let her not depart from your mouth; let her not depart from your hearts; and that you may obtain the suffrage of her prayers, never depart from the example of her conversation. While you follow her you never go astray; while you implore her aid, you never sink in despair; when you think on her, you never wander; under her patronage, you never fall; under her protection, you need not fear; she being your guide, you are not wearied.” Such are the sentiments of confidence, devotion, and respect with which the name of Mary ought always to inspire us. Out of veneration, it has been sometimes an established custom in certain places that no women should take the name of Mary. When Alphonsus VI., king of Castile, was about taking a young Moor to wife, he made it a condition that she should not, at her baptism, take that name. Among the articles of marriage stipulated between Mary of Nevers and Uladislas, king of Poland, one was, that laying aside the name of Mary, she should be called Aloysia. From the time that Casimir I., king of Poland, upon marrying Mary, daughter of the duke of Russia, obliged her to change that name, it became a custom in Poland that no woman should bear the name of Mary:9 though this is now changed, and on the other hand, many adopt it with humility, out of devotion to this powerful advocate and patroness.

Next to this holy name, the words of the salutation come to be considered. Hail is a word of salutation, congratulation, and joy. The archangel addressed it with profound reverence and awe to this incomparable and glorious virgin. It was anciently an extraordinary thing if an angel appeared to one of the patriarchs or prophets, and then he was received with great veneration and honor, being by nature and grace exalted above them; but when the archangel Gabriel visited Mary, he was struck at her exalted dignity and pre-eminence, and approached and saluted her with admiration and respect. He was accustomed to the lustre of the highest heavenly spirits; but was amazed and dazzled at the dignity and spiritual glory of her whom he came to salute Mother of God, while the attention of the whole heavenly court was with ravishment fixed upon her. With what humility ought we worms of the earth and base sinners to address her in the same salutation! The devout Thomas Kempis gives of it the following paraphrase:10 “With awe, reverence, devotion, and humble confidence, do I suppliantly approach you, bearing in my mouth the salutation of the angel, humbly to oiler you. I joyfully present it to you, with my head bowed out of reverence to your sacred person, and with my arms expanded through excessive affection of devotion; and I beg the same may be repealed by all the heavenly spirits for me a hundred thousand times, and much oftener; for I know not what I can bring more worthy your transcendent greatness, or more sweet to us who recite it. Let the pious lover of your holy Name listen and attend. The heavens rejoice, and all the earth ought to stand amazed when I say, Hail Mary. Satan and hell tremble when I repeat, Hail Mary Sorrow is banished, and a new joy fills my soul, when I say, Hail Mary My languid affection is strengthened in God, and my soul is refreshed when I repeat, Hail Mary. So great is the sweetness of this blessed salutation; that it is not to be expressed in words, but remains deeper in the heart than can be fathomed. Wherefore I again most humbly bend my knees to you, O most holy virgin, and say, Hail Mary, full of grace.—O, that to satisfy my desire of honoring and saluting you with all the powers of my soul, all. my members were converted into tongues and into voices of fire, that I might glorify you, O Mother of God, without ceasing! And now, prostrate in your presence, invited by sincere devotion of heart, and all inflamed with veneration for your sweet name, I represent to you the joy of that salutation when the archangel Gabriel, sent by God, entered your secret closet, and honored you with a salutation unheard of from the beginning of the world, saying, Hail, full of grace, our Lord is with you: which I desire to repeat, were it possible, with a mouth pure as gold, and with a burning affection; and I desire that all creatures now say with me, Hail,” &c.

In the like sentiments of profound respect and congratulation with the angel, we style her Full of grace. Though she is descended of the royal blood of David, her illustrious pre-eminence is not derived from her birth, or any other temporal advantages; but from that prerogative in which alone true excellence consists, the grace of God, in which she surpasses all other mere creatures. To others, God deals out portions of his grace according to an inferior measure; but Mary was to be prepared to become mother of the author of grace. To her, therefore, God gave every grace and every virtue in an eminent degree of excellence and perfection. Mary “was filled with the ocean of the Holy Ghost poured upon her,” says the venerable Bede.11 It was just, that the nearer she approached to the fountain of grace, the more abundantly she should be enriched by it; and, as God was pleased to make choice of her for his Mother, nothing less than a supereminent portion of grace could suit her transcendent dignity. The church therefore applies to her that of the Canticles: Thou art all fair, and there is no spot in thee.12 In those words, Our Lord is with thee, we repeat with the angel another eulogium, consequent of the former. God, by his immensity or omnipotence, is with all creatures, because in him all things have their being. He is much more intimately with all his just, inasmuch as he dwells in them by his grace, and manifests in them the most gracious effects of his goodness and power; but the blessed Virgin being full of grace, and most agreeable in his eyes above all other mere creatures; having also the closest union with Christ as his Mother, and burning with more than seraphic charity, she is his most beloved tabernacle, and he favors her with the special effects of his extraordinary presence, displaying in her his boundless munificence, power, and love.

The following praise was given to her in the same words, both by the archangel Gabriel and St. Elizabeth, Blessed art thou amongst women. Mary is truly called blessed above all other women, she having been herself always preserved from the least stain of sin, and having been the happy instrument of God in converting the maledictions laid on all mankind into blessings. When Judith had delivered Bethulia from temporal destruction, Ozias, the prince of the people, said to her, Blessed art thou, O daughter, above all women upon the face of the earth.13 And The people all blessed her with one voice, saying, Thou art the glory of Jerusalem, thou art the joy of Israel, thou art the honor of our people.14 How much more emphatically shall we from our hearts pronounce her blessed above all women, who brought forth Him who is the author of all manner of spiritual and eternal blessings to us! She most justly said of herself, in the deepest sense of gratitude to the divine goodness, Behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed.15 By bestowing these praises on Mary we offer principally to God a profound homage of praise for the great mystery of the Incarnation. The pious woman mentioned in the gospel, who upon hearing the divine doctrine of our Redeemer, cried out with admiration, Blessed is the womb that bore thee, and blessed are the breasts which gave thee suck,16 meant chiefly to commend the Son. In like manner the praises we address to Mary in the angelical salutation are reflected in the first place on her divine Son, from whom, and by whom alone she is entitled to them; for it is for his gifts and graces, and for his sake, that we praise and honor her. On which account this prayer is chiefly an excellent doxology for the great mystery of the Incarnation. Whence, having styled the Mother blessed above all women, we pronounce the Son infinitely more blessed, saying, And blessed is the fruit of thy womb. He is the source and author of all her graces and blessings; she derives them only from him; and to him we refer whatever we admire and praise in her. Therefore, in an infinitely higher sense of praise, love, and honor, and in a manner infinitely superior to her, we call him blessed forever by God, angels and men; by God, as his well-beloved Son, and in his divinity, co-equal and co-eternal with the Father; by the angels, as the author of their being, grace, and glory, inasmuch as he is their God; and in his Incarnation, as the repairer of their losses by men, as their Redeemer. We, considering attentively the infinite evils from which he has delivered us, the pains and labors which he sustained for us, the ransom which he has paid with his precious blood to redeem us, the everlasting and infinite advantages which he has purchased for us, with the boundless felicity of heaven, the excess of his goodness, love, and mercy, and his infinite majesty and perfections; we, I say, bearing all this in mind, ought, in a spirit of love and praise, ever to call her Blessed through whom we receive this so great a Saviour; but him infinitely more blessed both for his own adorable sanctity, and for all the graces of which he is the source to us.

The most holy and glorious name of Jesus which is added to this doxology, is a name of unspeakable sweetness and grace; a name most comfortable and delightful to every loving soul, terrible to the wicked spirits, and adorable with respect to all creatures; so that at its very sound every knee, in heaven, earth, and hell, shall bend, and every creature be filled with religious awe, and profound veneration and respect. The last part of this prayer is a supplication. The prayer of the blessed spirits in heaven consists chiefly in acts of adoration, love, praise, thanksgiving, and the like. We, in this vale of tears and miseries, join sighs even to our hymns of praise and adoration. So extreme are our spiritual miseries and wants that we never present ourselves in prayer before Almighty God, but we make it one part of our addresses to implore his mercy and graces with the greatest earnestness possible, and the deepest sense of our wants. It is in this sincere feeling of our sinful necessities, and the most humble and earnest cry of our heart, that the fervor and very soul of our prayer consists. God knows and with infinite tenderness compassionates the depth of our wounds, and the whole extent of our numberless and boundless spiritual miseries. But our insensibility under them provokes his just indignation. He will have us sincerely to feel and to acknowledge the weight of our evils; our extreme spiritual poverty and total insufficiency, the baseness of our guilt, the rigor of his judgments, the frightful torments of an unhappy eternity which we deserve for our sins, and the dangers from ourselves and the invisible enemies with which we are surrounded. He requires that we confess the abyss of miseries in which we are sunk, and out of it raise our voice to him with tears and groans, owning our total dependence on his mercy and infinite goodness. If a beggar ask an alms of us, his wants make him eloquent; he sums them all up to move us to compassion; sickness, pains, hunger, anguish of mind, distress of a whole family, and whatever else can set off his miseries in the most moving manner. In like manner when we pray, we must feel and lay open before our heavenly Father our deep wounds, our universal indigence, inability, and weakness, and, with all possible earnestness, implore his merciful succor. We must beg that God himself will be pleased to form in our hearts such continued sincere desires, that he inspire us with so deep a sense of all our miseries, and teach us to display them before him in such a manner as will most powerfully move him to pity and relieve us. We have recourse to the angels and saints to beg their joint intercession for us. For this we address ourselves in the first place to the blessed Virgin, as the refuge of the afflicted and sinners. In this prayer we repeat her holy name to excite ourselves to reverence and devotion. By calling her Mother of God, we express her most exalted dignity, and stir up our confidence in her patronage. For what cannot she obtain for us of a God, who was pleased himself to be born of her! We at the same time remember, that she is also spiritually our mother; for, by adoption, we are brothers and co-heirs of Christ. She is to us a mother of more than maternal tenderness; incomparably more sensible of our miseries, and more ready to procure us all mercy and assistance than carnal mothers can be, as in charity she surpasses all other mere creatures. But to call her Mother, and to deserve her compassion, we must sincerely renounce and put an end to our disorders, by which we have too often trampled upon the blood of her Son.

These words, Holy Mary, Mother of God, are a kind of preface to our petition, in which we humbly entreat her to pray for us. We do not ask her to give us grace; we know this to be the most precious gift of God, who alone can bestow it on us. We only desire her to ask it for us of her Son, and to join her powerful intercession with our unworthy prayers. We mention our quality of sinners, to humble ourselves in the deepest sentiments of compunction, and to excite her compassion by laving our extreme miseries and necessities before her, which this epithet of sinners expresses beyond what any created understanding can fathom. Mary, from her fuller and more distinct knowledge of the evil of sin, and the spiritual miseries of a soul infected with it, forms a much more distinct and perfect idea of the abyss of our evils than we can possibly do, and in proportion to them, and to the measure of her charity, is moved to compassionate us under them. But we must mention our sins with sincere sentiments of contrition and regret; for the will which still adheres to sin provokes indignation, not compassion, in God, and in all the saints who love sovereignly his sanctity and justice. How dare impenitent sinners present themselves before God with their hands yet stained, as it were, with the adorable blood of his Son, which they have spilled, and which they still continue, in the language of St. Paul, to trample upon? We must therefore mention our guilt with the most profound sentiments of confusion and compunction. In proportion to their sincerity and fervor we shall excite the pity and mercy of God, and the tender compassion of his Mother. Mary, having borne in her womb the Author of grace and mercy, has put on the bowels of the most tender compassion for sinners. By this mention of our quality of sinners, we sufficiently express what it is that we beg of God; namely, the grace of a perfect repentance, the remission of all our sins, and strength to resist all temptations to sin. We ask also for all graces and virtues, especially that of divine charity. All this is sufficiently understood by the very nature of our request, without being expressed; for what else ought we to ask of God, through the intercession of her who is the mother of the Author of grace? We beg this abundance of all graces, both at present, because we stand in need of it every moment of our lives; and for the hour of our death, that great and most dreadful moment which must be a principal object in all our prayers. The whole life of a Christian ought to be nothing else but a constant preparation for that tremendous hour, which will decide our eternal lot, and in which the devil will assail us with the utmost effort of his fury; and our own weakness in mind and body, the lively remembrance of our past sins, and other alarming circumstances and difficulties, will make us stand in need of the strongest assistance of divine grace, and the special patronage of her who is the patronage of all in distress, particularly of her devout clients in their last and most dangerous conflict. Amen, or So be it, expresses an earnest repetition of our supplication and praise. As the heart, in the ardor of its affections, easily goes far beyond what words can express, so neither is it confined by them in the extent and variety of its acts. In one word, it often comprises the most perfect acts of faith, hope, charity, adoration, praise, and other such virtues. Thus, by Amen, it with ardor repeats all the petitions and acts of the Lord’s Prayer and Angelical Salutation. Some devout persons have made this short but energetical and comprehensive word one of their most frequent aspirations to God, during the course of the day; meaning by it to assent, confirm, and repeat, with all possible ardor and humility, all the hymns and most perfect acts of profound adoration, humility, love, praise, zeal, thanksgiving, oblation of themselves, total resignation, confidence in God, and all other virtues, which all the heavenly spirits offer to God, with all their power and strength, and with the utmost purity of affection, without intermission, to eternity. In these acts we join by the word Amen, and desire to repeat them all with infinite fervor, were it possible, forever; and with them we join the most sincere sentiments and acts of compunction, and a particular humility, condemning ourselves as infinitely unworthy to join the heavenly choirs, or faithful servants of God, in offering him a tribute of praise; most unworthy even to pronounce his most holy name, or mention any of his adorable perfections, which defiled lips and faint divided affections rather profane and depreciate than praise and honor.

OCTOBER 2 — THE FEAST OF THE HOLY ANGEL-GUARDIANS

Amongst the adorable dispensations of the divine mercy in favor of men, it is not the least, that he has been pleased to establish a communion of spiritual commerce between us on earth and his holy angels, whose companions we hope one day to be in the kingdom of his glory. This communion is entertained on our side by the religious veneration with which we honor them as God’s faithful, holy, and glorious ministering spirits, and beg their charitable succor and intercession with God; on their side by their solitude and prayers for us, and the many good offices they do us. The providence of God, always infinitely wise, infinitely holy, and infinitely gracious, vouchsafes to employ superior created beings in the execution of his will in various dispensations towards other inferior creatures. According to St. Thomas, when he created the angels, he enlightened the lowest amongst them by those that are supreme in those glorious orders of spirits. It is clear, in the holy scriptures, that those blessed spirits which we call angels (as much as to say God’s messengers) receive this very name from their office, in being employed by him in frequently executing his commissions in our favor and defence. That he does this on many occasions, both general and particular, has been abundantly shown elsewhere from the testimony of the holy scriptures.1 One of the most merciful appointments of God relating to this economy established by him between the blessed angels and men, is, that he commissions chosen high spirits to be particular guardians to each of us. In this providence are displayed the infinite majesty, wisdom, and power of God, and the excess of his goodness towards his creatures; also a deep foundation is laid of the greatest charity and the highest mutual joy in each other between the angels and the elect for all eternity in their happy society of heaven.

That particular angels are appointed and commanded by God to guard and watch over each particular person among his servants, that is, all the just, or such as are in the state of grace, is an article of the Catholic faith, of which no ecclesiastical writer within the pale of the church, in any age, ever entertained the least doubt. That every man, even among sinners and infidels, has a guardian angel, is the doctrine of the most eminent among the fathers, and so strongly supported by the most sacred authority, that is seems not to be called in question, especially as to all the faithful. The psalmist assures us,2 He hath given his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. And in another place,3 The angel of the Lord shall encamp round about them that fear him, and he shall deliver them. The patriarch Jacob prayed his good angel to bless his two grandsons, Ephraim and Manasses;4 The angel that delivereth me from all evils bless these boys. Judith said,5 His angel hath been my keeper, both going hence, and abiding there, and returning from thence. Christ deters us from scandalizing any of his little ones, because their angels always behold the face of God, who, with zeal and indignation, will demand vengeance of God against any by whose malice precious souls, which were their wards, have perished.6 Upon which passage St. Hilary writes:7 “It is dangerous to lespise one whose cries and prayers are carried up to the eternal and invisible God by the gracious ministry of angels.” So certain and general was the belief of a guardian angel being assigned to every one by God, that when St. Peter was miraculously delivered out of prison, the disciples, who, upon his coming to them, could not at first believe it to be him, said, It is his ange1.8 That St. Michael was the protector of the Jewish nation, or of the people of God, and that countries or collective bodies of men have, at least several, their tutelar angels, is clear from holy scripture.9 So unanimous and so express is the doctrine of the fathers, in asserting and illustrating this article of the Catholic faith concerning guardian angels, that it would require a volume to copy their testimonies. The devils, with implacable envy and malice, study to compass our eternal ruin, both by stratagems and open assaults.* God is pleased to oppose to their efforts his good angels, by making them our defenders. If Almighty God permits the devils various ways to assail and tempt us, and, both by wiles and open violence, to endeavor to draw us into eternal ruin, will he not allow his good angels to exert their zeal for his honor, and their charity for us I No sooner had Lucifer and his adherents set up the standard of their revolt from God, but St. Michael and all the good angels entered upon a war against them, and, executing the sentence which God passed upon them, expelled them out of their blessed abodes. Man being created to fill up the places of these apostates, Lucifer, with his associates, is permitted by God to spread his snares, and exert the efforts of his malice against us, that in these trials we may give proof of our fidelity, and may purchase, by victories and triumphs, that bliss for which we are created. Satan thus effects the ruin of innumerable souls, and the Holy Ghost gives us this warning: The devil is come down unto you, having great wrath.10 And such is his arrogance, that he trusteth that Jordan, that is, the whole race of mankind, may flow into his mouth, and be swallowed up by him.

The good angels, out of the same zeal with which they continue their war against these wicked spirits, come to our relief, according to the order established by divine providence. And God, out of his infinite tenderness and compassion for us, commands his highest spirits to watch over and to guard us. O my God! what is man that you should take such care of him, and give him for his governors the sublime princes of your heavenly court, the assistants of your throne! What am I but a worm of the earth, a slave to it, and to this body of filth, sin, and corruption? Must an angel, a creature so noble, so pure and holy, attend on me? “O wonderful condescension! O excess of goodness and love!” cries out St. Bernard.11 “He hath given his angels charge over thee.12 Who is he that hath given this charge? To whom, and of whom hath he given this order? And what is its import? Let us seriously consider and weigh every part of this mystery? Who is he that hath given this charge? The Lord of angels, whom they obey. The supreme majesty of God hath laid a command upon the angels, and his own angels; those sublime, those happy spirits, who approach so near his divine majesty, his own domestics; and it is the care of thee that by this sacred command he hath intrusted to them. What art thou? Is not man rottenness, corruption, and the pasture of worms? But what dost thou think he hath commanded them concerning thee? That they guard thee; that they keep thee in all thy ways. Nor do they loiter; they even bear thee up in their hands, as it were, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.” Shall we not praise such a goodness? We are also to consider the watchful attention of these blessed spirits over us. They most readily and most carefully execute every order of God, and embrace his will in every thing with the utmost ardor, and with their whole strength. With what diligence then do they watch over us, who are committed to them by the strict charge and appointment of God himself!13

A second motive or inducement which exceedingly endears us to their piotection, is their compassion and charity for us. They consider that we are shortly to be their companions in eternal bliss, and are at present by grace and the divine adoption their brethren, their dear fellow-members in God, dear to him who is their God and our God, and precious in his sight, being purchased by him at the infinite price of his incarnation, passion, and death. They, on the other side, see the miseries of sin into which we are fallen, the dangers which surround us, and the infinite evils under which we groan. Their compassion is the more tender, as their charity is the more perfect and more pure, and as they are seated nearer to the infinite source or fountain of charity. They see the snares which the devils lay to entrap us, and they remember the cause of God, and the sacred war in which they are engaged against those his enemies. They therefore earnestly exert themselves in defeating their projects, and in protecting us: “For they love their fellow-citizens, by whom they long to see their breaches and ruins repaired,” as the devout author of the Soliloquies of the Soul, among the works of St. Austin,14 and with him Hugh of St. Victor write. “Therefore they watch over and guard us with great care and diligence in all places, and at all hours, assisting us, providing for our necessities with solicitude; they in tervene between us and thee, O Lord, conveying to thee our sighs and groans, and bringing down to us the desired blessing of thy graces. They walk with us in all our ways; they go in and out with us, attentively observing how we converse with piety in the midst of a perverse generation; with what ardor we seek thy kingdom and its justice, and with what fear and awe we serve thee. They assist us in our labors, they protect us in our rest, they encourage us in battle, they crown us in victories, they rejoice in us when we rejoice in thee, and they compassionately attend us when we suffer or are afflicted for thee. Great is their care of us, and great are the effects of their charity for us. They love him whom thou lovest; they guard him whom thou beholdest with tenderness; but they forsake those from whom thou withdrawest thyself, and they hate them that work iniquity, because they are hateful to thee. If we fall from good, we give joy to the devils, and rob the angels of theirs. When we do well, we afford a triumph to the angels, and we vanquish and contristate the devils. Make us, O Father, always to bring joy to your holy spirits. Rehearsing these your benefits, I praise and thank you. You had bestowed on us whatever is contained within the circumference of the heavens; and, as if all this was little, you would add what is above the heavens, giving us your angels to serve us, ministering spirits for them who receive the inheritance of salvation. May all your angels praise you, may all your works glorify you, and all your saints bless you forever! How high is the honor by which you have so greatly exalted and enriched us!”

St. Bernard15 observes, that we owe to our guardian-angel “great reverence, devotion, and confidence; reverence,” says he, “for his presence, devotion for his charity, and confidence in his watchfulness. Penetrated with awe, walk always with circumspection, remembering the presence of angels to whom you are given in charge in all your ways. In every apartment, in every closet, in every corner, pay a respect to your angel. Dare you do before him what you durst not commit if I saw you?” In another place, he thus urges the same motive:16—“Consider with how great respect, awe, and modesty, we ought to behave in the sight of the angels, lest we offend their holy eyes, and render ourselves unworthy of their company. We to us if they who could chase away our enemy be offended by our negligence, and deprive us of their visit. We must shun what grieves them, and practise that which gives them delight, as temperance, chastity, voluntary poverty, prayer with fervor and tears. Above all things, the angels of peace expect in us unity and peace. Should not they be most delighted with that in us which represents the form of their own holy city, that they may admire a new Jerusalem, or heaven on earth? On the contrary, nothing so much provokes them as scandals and dissensions, if they discern any in us.” St. Basil enlarges upon the same argument to recommend to virgins the strictest modesty in all places. “Let the virgin, when she is alone,” says he,17 “feat and respect, first, herself and her own conscience; then her guardian-angel, who is always with her; Their angels always see the face of my Father.18 A man ought not to contemn the face of the angel to whose care his soul is intrusted, especially a virgin, whose paranymph he is appointed, and the guardian of her fidelity to her spouse. Above all, she must respect her spouse himself, who is always with her, and together with him the Father and the Holy Ghost; not to mention the infinite multitudes of the angels, and the blessed souls of the holy fathers; for though they are not visible to our carnal eyes, they behold us with their incorporeal sight. If the virgin fears the eye of others, much more must she the sight of these who are so holy and excellent, and so much greater than any men. She dreads particularly the eyes of the multitude; now, it being impossible she should escape the observation of this so great and holy a multitude, she will be careful never to do any thing unbecoming her state.”

We must not only respect, but gratefully and devoutly love and honor our tutelar spirit. He is a faithful guardian, a true friend, a watchful shepherd, and a powerful protector. He is a high spirit of heaven, and a courtier of the immortal king of glory; yet his tender charity, goodness, and compassion move him, through the divine appointment, to employ his whole power in guarding and defending us. He often protects our bodies, as the devils have sometimes power to hurt them. But what does not he do for our souls? He instructs, encourages, secretly exhorts, and reproves us; he defends us against our enemy, often discovers his stratagems, averts many dangers, and comforts and supports us in our trials, and in the terrible hour of our death. He invisibly performs for us the offices which that angel who led the Jews into the promised land, did for them; and which Raphael performed to the younger Toby, in his journey to Rages: for he is our good and sure guide through the dangers of this life to eternal glory. What return shall we make by gratitude, confidence, respect, and obedience to this our faithful Raphael our good angel! what praise and thanks do not we owe to God for so inestimable a benefit! Toby, reflecting on the great favors he had received from the angel Raphael, his faithful conductor, said to his father, “What shall we give him? or what can be worthy of his benefits? He conducted me, and brought me safe again; he received the money for me, he caused me to have my wife, and he chased from her the evil spirit; he gave joy to her parents, myself he delivered from being devoured by the fish; thee also he hath made to see the light of heaven, and we are filled with all good things through him. What can we give him sufficient for these things?”19 That holy family seeing the immense goodness and condescension of God in the benefits conferred upon them by his angel, “falling prostrate on their faces for three hours, blessed God.”20 Ought not we to imitate their gratitude? “In God,” says St. Bernard,21 “let us affectionately love the angels, these glorious spirits which are to be one day our companions in glory, and co-heirs; and are at present appointed our tutors and guardians by our Father. Let us be devout; let us be grateful to such protectors; let us love them; let us honor them as much as we are able,” &c.

We likewise ought to place a confidence in the protection of our good angel. St. Bernard writes in the same place as follows: “Though we are so weak, and our condition so low, and though so long and dangerous a way lies before us, what can we fear under so great guardians? As often as any tribulation or violent temptation assails you, implore your guardian, your guide, your assistant in tribulation, and in all times of need.” To deserve his protection, we must, above all things, fly sin. Even venial sin troubles him. “As smoke chases away bees, and stench doves, so the ordure of sin driveth away the angel, the keeper of life,” says St. Basi1.22 Impurity is a vice particularly abominable to holy spirits; and sins of scandal make the angels of the little ones whom we scandalize demand vengeance against us. God says, “Behold I will send my angel, who shall go before thee, and keep thee in thy journey, and bring thee into the place that I have prepared. Respectfully observe him, and hear his voice, and do not think him one to be contemned: for he will not forgive when thou hast sinned, and my name is in him. Bui if thou wilt hear his voice, and do all that I shall speak, I will be an enemy to thy enemies, and will afflict them that afflict thee: and my angel shall go before thee, and shall bring thee into the place which I have prepared.”23

OCTOBER 2 — ST. THOMAS, BISHOP OF HEREFORD, C

Our island once saw the happy days when prayer and contemplation were the delight even of courts, the camp, and the shop; when Christian humility and true poverty of spirit sat on the thrones of kings, chastity flourished in palaces, and princes had no other interest of state but the glory of God, no other ambition than to dilate the kingdom, nor any greater happiness than to espouse their daughters to Christ crucified, in the rigors of solitude and severe penance. The beauty of this holy vineyard in the church excited the envy of the devil, who, like a furious wild boar, sought to lay it waste. Tepidity in the divine service and sloth opened him the door; pride, ambition, luxury, and the love of the world and of pleasure soon gained ground, and miserably changed the face of this paradise. Wars, oppression, and desolation were the scourges by which God in his mercy sought to bring back an ungrateful people to their duty before he cast them off. He still raised up many holy pastors and patterns of virtue, who labored by word and example to stem the tide of iniquity. Among these shone most eminently St. Thomas Cantelupe, some time high-chancellor of England, and bishop of Hereford. He was most nobly born, being eldest son to William lord Cantelupe, one of the greatest generals that England ever produced; who, by the total overthrow of the barons and of the French, fixed the crown on the head of king Henry III., and was lord high steward of the kingdom, which dignity, on account of the exorbitance of its power, has been since suppressed, and is now only exercised occasionally in the trials of peers. The Cantelupes were Normans, who came over with the Conqueror, and received from him great estates and honors, which they exceedingly increased, becoming, by marriages, heirs of the Strongbows, and marshals earls of Pembroke, of the Fitz-Walters earls of Hereford, and of the Breuses lords of Abergavenny. The mother of our saint was Melicenta, countess-dowager of Evreux and Gloucester, daughter of Hugh lord of Gournay, allied to the royal families of England and France. Thomas was born in Lancashire; his parents had three other sons, and as many daughters, all younger than him, who were honorably married in the world. The father’s office obliged him to reside chiefly at court to attend the king. This was a dangerous place for the education of children; which being sensible of, he was most watchful to banish all incentives of vanity from their sight, and to remove the least whisper of false pleasures from their ears; thus, in the very seat of danger and vice, he formed a school of virtue and penance. When his son Thomas was capable of learning, he placed him under the care of his near kinsman, Walter Cantelupe, bishop of Hereford, and afterwards under that of Robert Kilwarby, a learned Dominican, archbishop of Canterbury, afterwards cardinal and bishop of Porto, and founder of the Black Friars in London. This experienced tutor found no obstacle or opposition to his instructions in the heart of his pupil, who, while a child, began daily to recite the breviary, besides hearing mass and other devotions, which he performed with wonderful fervor. He studied his philosophy at Paris; during which time he happened to take a prop of a vine out of another man’s vineyard to hold up his window; of which action be conceived so great a remorse, that he condemned himself for it to seven years’ rigorous penance.

Thomas resolving to consecrate himself to God in an ecclesiastical state, learned at Orleans the civil law, which is a necessary foundation to the canon law. He visited certain friends at the general council at Lyons, and there became acquainted with the most eminent pastors and theologians of the church, by whose conversation he much improved himself. Pope Innocent IV. nominated him his chaplain; notwithstanding which, he returned to England, to pursue the study of the canon law. He proceeded doctor in laws at Oxford, and was soon after chosen chancellor of that famous university; in which office he shone in such a bright light, that king Henry shortly after appointed him high-chancellor of the kingdom. His prudence, courage, indefatigable application, scrupulous justice, and abhorrence of human respects, or the least present which could be offered him even in the most indirect manner, completed the character of an accomplished magistrate. The earl of Gloucester, Roger lord Clifford, Peter Corbet, and the king himself, experienced his inflexibility. He procured the banishment of the obstinate Jews, because by their usuries, extortions, and counterfeit base coin, they were a public nuisance to the state. St. Thomas never ceased to solicit king Henry for leave to resign his office, but in vain. However, he obtained it of his son Edward I., upon his accession to the throne; yet on condition that he should remain in his privy council; which he did till his death. The saint was then fifty-four years old; yet retired to Oxford, making books and his devotions his only pleasure. He took the degree of doctor of divinity in the church of the Dominicans, with whom he had studied, on which occasion Robert Kilwarby, his old friend and director, then archbishop of Canterbury, did not fear endangering the saint’s humility, by declaring in his public oration, on the vesperial or eve of his promotion to the degree of doctor, that the candidate had lived without reproach, and had never forfeited his baptismal innocence. In 1274 he was called by pope Gregory X. to the second general council of Lyons, assembled for the union of the Greeks, &c. In 1275 he was canonically chosen bishop of Hereford by the chapter of that church, and all his opposition having been fruitless, consecrated in Christ Church in Canterbury.*

Our saint was sensible how great a supply of virtues was necessary to qualify him worthily to discharge the duties of his exalted station in the church, and redoubled his fervor in the practice of all the means of acquiring this high perfection. A sovereign contempt of the world made him relish the sweetness of holy retirement, in which, and in the functions of his ministry, he placed all his delight. God was to him all in all; and he maintained his heart in perpetual union with him by prayer and holy meditation. He subdued his flesh with severe fasting, watching, and a rough hair-shirt which he wore till his death, notwithstanding the colics and other violent pains and sicknesses with which he was afflicted many years for the exercise of his patience. His zeal for the church seemed to have no bounds; and such was his charity, that he seemed born only for the relief of his neighbor, both spiritual and temporal. He usually called the poor his brethren, and treated them as such both at table and with his purse. No reviling language or ill-treatment could ever provoke him to anger; his enemies he always treated with respect and tenderness, and would never bear the least word which might seem to reflect on them or any others. No one could more scrupulously shun the very shadow of detraction. He defended the lands and privileges of his church with undaunted resolution, as appeared in his suits against Gilbert de Clare, the king’s son-in-law, the powerful earl of Gloucester, against Llewellin prince of Wales, Roger lord Clifford, and his primate, John Peckham, archbishop of Canterbury. That metropolitan had laid certain injunctions on the bishops subject to his jurisdiction, which were an encroachment on their rights, but no historian has recorded in what they consisted. St. Thomas, though threescore years of age, was pitched upon by his brethren to undertake a journey to Rome, to lay their grievances before pope Nicholas IV. The fame of his sanctity alone sufficed to procure him a most favorable reception. After a successful dispatch of his business, he made haste homewards, finding certain distempers with which he was afflicted to increase upon him. His love of concealment has hid from us the great proofs of virtue and wisdom which he gave in this journey, which are only mentioned in general terms, but are inregistered in heaven, with the additional lustre of his humility. His sickness stopped him on his road at Montefiascone in Tuscany. He received the last sacraments with incredible cheerfulness and devotion, and made the sufferings and death of his Redeemer the constant subject of his pious and fervent prayer, in which he calmly gave up the ghost, in the sixty-third year of his age, on the 25th of August in 1282. He was buried six days after, in the church of the monastery of St. Severus near Old Florence, and his funeral oration was spoken by a cardinal. His bones, separated from the flesh, were, with his head and heart, soon after carried to Hereford, and enshrined with great honor in the chapel of our Lady, in his cathedral. Edmund, earl of Cornwall, son of Richard, king of the Romans, who had been the greatest admirer of his sanctity during his life, procured his head, and deposited it in a costly shrine in a monastery which he founded in his honor at Ash-bridge in Buckinghamshire. In 1287 his remains at Hereford were translated with great pomp in the presence of king Edward III., and laid in a marble tomb by the east wall of the north cross-isle in the same cathedral. Innumerable manifest miracles were wrought through his merits, of which several authentic relations were recorded, some of which may be seen in Surius, others in Capgrave. In the original acts of his canonization, preserved in the Vatican library, is found an account of four hundred and twenty-nine miracles, approved by the bishops and others, deputed by his holiness’s commissioners for that purpose, and by four public notaries. These brought on his canonization, which was performed by pope John XXII. in 1310, perhaps on the 2d of October, on which day his principal festival was observed. The late author of his life ascribes the sudden ceasing of a raging pestilence at Hereford, a little before he wrote, to the intercession of this saint, implored by a private procession. Dr. Brown-Willis thinks his festival was kept at Hereford on the 9th of October, because the great fair is held there on that day, and was established in his honor; but it was on the octave-day of his festival, that the procession of the chapter, &c., was made with great pomp. The monument of St. Thomas still remains in the cathedral at Hereford; but the inscription is torn off. See the acts of his canonization, the accurate Nicholas Trevet, ad an. 1282, Mat. Paris, Capgrave, Harpsfield, his modern life collected by R. S. S. J., 1674, and Dr. Brown-Willis’s Antiquities of Hereford. His short life MS. in the king’s library in the British Museum, viii. c. vi. 20. Suysken the Bollandist, p. 539 to 705.

OCTOBER 2 — ST. LEODEGARIUS, BISHOP, M. CALLED IN FRENCH LEGER

St. Leodegarius was born about the year 616, being of the first quality among the French. His parents brought him very young to the court of king Clotaire II., (son of Fredegonda,) who reigned first in Neustria; but in the year 614, the thirty-first of his reign, having taken Sigebert prisoner, and put to death his mother Brunehault, became king of all France, in the same manner that his grandfather Clotaire had been. This prince kept the young nobleman but a short time at court before he sent him to Dido, his uncle by the mother’s side, bishop of Poitiers, who appointed a priest of great learning to instruct him in literature, and some years after took him into his own palace to finish his education himself. Leodegarius made great progress in learning, but much greater in the science of the saints. To walk in the presence of God, and to be perfect, are things inseparable, according to the testimony of God himself.1 It was by this constant union of his heart with God, joined with the practice of self-denial and humility, that Leodegarius attained in his youth the perfection of the saints. In consideration of his extraordinary abilities and merit, his uncle dispensed with the canons, and ordained him deacon when he was only twenty years old, and soon after made him archdeacon, and intrusted him with the government of his whole diocese. Leodegarius was tall, handsome, prudent, eloquent, and generally beloved. The monastery of St. Maxentius,* in the diocese of Poitiers, having lost its abbot, Leodegarius was obliged by his uncle to take upon him the government of that great abbey, which he held six years with great reputation of prudence and sanctity; and he was a considerable benefactor to this monastery.

Clovis II., king of Neustria and Burgundy, dying in 656, left three sons, Clotaire, Childeric, and Theodoric, all under age. Clotaire III. was proclaimed king, and his mother St. Bathildes, foundress of the two great abbeys of Corbie and Chelles, was regent, being assisted in the government by Erchinoald, mayor of the palace, and the holy bishops St. Eligius, St. Owen, and St. Leodegarius. The fame of this last having reached the court while he governed his abbey in Poitou, he was called to the palace by Clotaire III. and St. Bathildes, and in 659 nominated bishop of Autun. That see had been vacant two years, while the diocese was miserably torn asunder by opposite factions, not without effusion of blood. The presence of Leodegarius quieted all disturbances, and reconciled the parties. He took care to relieve all the poor, instructed his clergy, frequently preached to his people, and adorned the churches, beautifying them with gildings and rich plate. He repaired the baptistery of his cathedral with great magnificence, caused the relics of St. Symphorian to be brought back thither, and repaired the walls of the city. In a diocesan synod which he held at Autun in 670,2 he enacted many canons for the reformation of manners, of which some only have reached us which chiefly regard the monastic order. He says, that if the monks were all what they ought to be, their prayers would preserve the world from public calamities. By these ordinances they are enjoined to observe the canons and the rules of St. Bennet; to labor in common, and to exercise hospitality; are forbid to have property in any thing, and to go into cities, unless upon the business of the monastery; and in this case are commanded to have a letter from their abbot directed to the archdeacon.

The saint had sat ten years when king Clotaire III. died in 669. Upon this news he posted to court, where one part of the lords declared for Childeric who then reigned in Austrasia with great prudence; but Ebroin procured Theodoric to be proclaimed king, and made himself mayor of his palace. But so odious was the tyranny of this minister, that the contrary party soon after prevailing, Childeric was acknowledged king, who had put Ebroin to death if St. Leodegarius and some other bishops had not interceded that his life might be spared. He was shorn a monk at Luxeu, and Theodoric at St. Denis’s. Childeric II. governed well as long as he listened to the advice of St. Leodegarius, who had so great a share in public affairs in the beginning of this reign, that in some writings he is styled mayor of the palace. The king being young and violent, at length abandoned himself to his pleasures, and married his uncle’s daughter. St. Leodegarius admonished him first in secret, and finding this without effect, reproved him publicly. Wulfoade, who was for some time mayor of the palace, attempted to render the saint’s fidelity suspected, and several courtiers incensed the king against him, so that he was banished to Luxeu, where Ebroin made him a promise of constant friendship. Childeric having caused a nobleman called Bodilo to be publicly scourged, was slain by him at the head of a conspiracy of his nobility, with his queen, and son Dagobert, and infant, in 673. Theodoric, his brother, leaving Neustria, and Dagobert, son of Sigebert II., being recalled from Ireland, whither he had been banished, and acknowledged king of Austrasia, St. Leodegarius was restored to his see, and received at Autun with the greatest honor and rejoicings. Ebroin left Luxeu, and being provoked that Leudesius was made mayor of the palace, under pretence of a conference, murdered him and setting up a pretended son of Clotaire III., under the name of Clovis, for king, sent an army into Burgundy, which marched first to Autun. St. Leodegarius would not fly, but distributed his plate and other moveables among the poor, and made his will, by which he gave certain estates to his church.* He then ordered a fast of three days, and a general procession, in which the cross, and the relics of the saints were carried round about the walls At every one of the gates the good bishop prostrated himself, and besought God with tears, that if he called him to martyrdom, his flock might not suffer any thing. He then called all the people together into the church and asked pardon of all those whom he might have offended by too great severity. When the enemy came up, the people shut their gates, and made a stout defence all that day. But St. Leodegarius said to them, “Fight no longer. If it is on my account they are come, I am ready to give them satisfaction. Let us send one of our brethren to know what they demand.” The army was commanded by Vaimer, duke of Champagne, who had with him Diddon, formerly bishop of Challons upon the Saone, who had been canonically deposed for his crimes. Diddon answered the citizens of Autun, that they would storm the town unless Leodegarius was delivered up to them; and they all took an oath of allegiance to Clovis, for he swore to them that Theodoric was dead. Leodegarius publicly declared he would rather suffer death than fail in his fidelity to his prince. The enemy continuing to press upon the city with fire and sword, he took leave of all the brethren; and having first received the holy communion, marched boldly out of the town, and offered himself to his enemies, who having seized on his person, pulled out his eyes. This he endured without suffering his hands to be tied, or venting the least groan, singing psalms all the while. The citizens made their submission, that they might not be all carried away captives. Vaimer carried St. Leodegarius to his own house in Champagne, while his army proceeded to Lyons, intending to take that city, and seize upon St. Genesius, the archbishop; but the inhabitants defended that great city so well, that they were obliged to retire, and St. Genesius died in peace on the 1st of November, 677, being succeeded by St. Lambert, who had been elected abbot of Fontenelle upon the death of St. Vandrille.

Ebroin, who had marched into Neustria, sent an older that Leodegarius should be led into a wood, and there left to perish with hunger, and that it should be published that he was drowned. When he was almost starved, Vaimer took pity of him, and brought him to his house. He was so moved by his discourse that he returned him the money he had taken from the church of Autun, which St. Leodegarius sent thither to be distributed among the poor. Ebroin growing jealous of Vaimer’s power, contrived him to be ordained, some time after, bishop of Troyes, and soon after caused him to be tormented and hanged. Diddon was also banished by him, and afterwards put to death. St. Leodegarius was dragged through a marshy ground, and very rough roads, where the soles of his feet were cut with sharp stones; his tongue was maimed, and his lips cut off; after which he was delivered into the hands of count Varinguius, to be kept by him in safe custody. This count honored him as a martyr, took him into his own country, and placed him in the monastery of Fescan, or Fecamp, in Normandy, founded by himself. The saint remained there two years, and, his wounds being healed, he continued to speak, as it was thought, miraculously. He instructed the nuns, offered every day the holy sacrifice, and prayed almost without ceasing. Ebroin, having usurped by violence the dignity of mayor of the palace to Theodoric, and being absolute master in Neustria and Burgundy, pretended a desire to revenge the death of king Childeric, and falsely accused St. Leodegarius and his brother Gairin of having concurred to it. They were brought before the king and the lords, and Ebroin loaded them with reproaches. St. Leodegarius told him he would soon lose that dignity which he had usurped. The two brothers were separated, and Gairin was tied to a post, and stoned to death. During his execution he repeated these words: “Lord Jesus Christ, who camest not only to call the just, but sinners, receive the soul of thy servant, to whom thou hast granted a death like that of the martyrs.” Thus he continued in prayer till he expired. St. Leodegarius could not be condemned till he had been deposed in a synod. In the mean time he wrote a consolatory letter to his mother Sigrades, who was then become a nun in the monastery of our Lady at Soissons. In it be congratulates with her upon her happy retreat from the world, comforts her for the death of his brother Gairin, saying that ought not to be a subject of grief to them which was an occasion of joy and triumph to the angels; he speaks of himself with surprising constancy and courage, and fearing lest she might be tempted to harbor any sentiment of resentment against their unjust persecutors, speaks of the forgiveness of enemies with a tenderness and charity altogether heavenly. He tells her, that since Christ set the divine example by praying on the cross for his murderers, it must be easy for us to love our enemies and persecutors. This letter is the effusion of a heart burning with charity, and overflowing with the deepest sentiments of all Christian virtues. The style is truly worthy a great martyr upon the point of consummating his sacrifice to God, and speaks a language which penetrates the heart with its holy unction. Though there is in it no other art than that which charity naturally produced, it is written with spirit, and shows that we have reason to regret the loss of the sermons which he preached to his people during the ten years that he governed his church in peace.

At length Ebroin caused St. Leodegarius to be brought to the palace, where he had assembled a small number of bishops whom he had gained, that he might be deposed by their sentence, though they could not constitute a legal synod, to which a canonical convocation, by letter or sanction of the metropolitan or primate, is required within the limits of his jurisdiction. The saint was pressed to own himself privy to the death of Childeric; but he constantly denied it, calling God to witness that he was innocent. Those that were present rent his tunic from top to bottom, which was intended for a mark of his deposition. Then he was delivered into the hands of Chrodobert, count of the palace, to be put to death. Ebroin, fearing lest he should be honored as a martyr, ordered him to be led into a wood, and there executed, and buried in some deep pit, and the place covered in such a manner that it could never be known. Chrodobert was so moved with the exhortations and holy deportment of the martyr, that he could not bear to see him put to death; but ordered four officers to execute the sentence. The count’s wife wept bitterly; but the saint comforted her; and assured her that God would bless her for her charity if she took care of his interment. The four executioners carried him into a forest, where, not being able to find a pit, they at length stopped, and three of them fell at his feet, begging him to forgive them. He prayed for them, and afterwards, when he said he was ready, the fourth cut off his head. The wife of count Chrodobert caused the saint to be interred in a small oratory, at a place called Sarcin, in Artois; but, three years after, his body was removed to the monastery of St. Maxentius, in Poitou; for a contention arising between St. Vindician, bishop of Arras, and the bishops of Autun and Poitiers, which should possess his relics, by drawing three billets laid on an altar, they fell to the share of the last. He was martyred, in 678, in the forest of Iveline, now called St. Leger’s Wood, in the diocese of Arras, near the borders of that of Cambray. Many miracles were wrought at the tomb of this saint, and a great number of churches were built in his honor. Few saints are more reverenced in many parts of France than this martyr.* See the life of St. Leodegarius, compiled by an anonymous monk of St. Symphorian’s, at Autun, who had been an eyewitness to many of the saint’s actions, and written very soon after the translation of his relics. Also the life of this saint, written in a more elegant style, but with some mistakes and omissions, by Ursinus, a monk at Poitiers, some time later. Both these lives are published by Du Chesne, Historiæ Francorum coetanei, t. 4. p. 600. 625. and Mabillon, Actâ Bened. t. 2. Both these authors recount many miracles wrought at the translation of this saint’s relics &c. A third life of St. Leodegarius, written by a monk of Morlach, in Austrasia, in the eighth or ninth century, adds little that is material to the two former, except an account of a succession of miracles down to the eighth age. See likewise Bulteau, Hist. de l’Ord. de S. Ben.1., 3, c. 32, t. 1, p. 561; Bie, the Bollandist, p. 355 to 491; Griffet, Mélanges Historiques, t. 1, p. 167.*

OCTOBER 3 — ST. DIONYSIUS THE AREOPAGITE, BISHOP OF ATHENS, M

See Acts 16; Tillemont, T. 2; Cave, P. 66

THE great apostle of the Gentiles, esteeming himself equally a debtor to the learned and to the unlearned, arrived at Athens about the year 51, seven teen years after our Lord’s crucifixion, and boldly preached the faith in that city, which had been for many ages the chief seat of the muses, where the chief studies of philosophy, oratory, and polite literature flourished. All matters belonging to religion were, by an ancient law of that state, to be determined by the great council of the Areopagites, which was still observed; for, though the Athenians were fallen under the Roman yoke, yet, out of regard to their learning, and to the ancient dignity of their republic, the Romans restored to them many of their ancient privileges, with the name and title at least of their liberty. St. Paul therefore was summoned to give an account of his doctrine in the Areopagus.† The apostle appeared undaunted in that august and severe assembly of proud sages, though Plato so much dreaded a like examination at this tribunal, that he on no other account dissembled his sentiments of the unity of God, and other like truths, of which he was himself perfectly satisfied, especially after his travels into Egypt, as St. Justin Martyr testifies.1 St. Paul explained before these learned senators the Christian maxims of repentance, purity of manners, the unity and omnipresence of God, his judgments, and the resurrection of the dead. The divine unction with which he delivered these great truths was an eloquence with which these masters of philosophy and oratory were unacquainted. The doctrine of the resurrection of the dead shocked many, and was a great stumbling-block, though Plato and other eminent philosophers among them had established many sublime sentiments with regard to the immortality of the soul, and the rewards and punishments of a life to come; but that our flesh, which putrefies in the earth, and perishes to all our senses, shall, by the power of God, be raised again the same that dies, was what many of these wise men of the world looked upon as a dream, rather than a certain truth. Many, however, among them were exceedingly moved with the sanctity and sublimity of this new doctrine, and with the marks of a divine mission with which the preacher delivered himself; and they said to him they would hear him again upon that subject on some other day. Some whose hearts were touched by a powerful grace, and who with simplicity sought after the truth, not the idle gratification of curiosity, pride, or vanity, without delay addressed themselves to the apostle, and received from him full satisfaction of the evidence of the divine revelation which he preached to them. Among these there was a woman named Damaris; but the most remarkable among these converts was Dionysius, one of the honorable members or judges of this most venerable and illustrious senate.* We are assured by the testimony of St. Dionysius of Corinth,2 that St. Dionysius the Areopagite was afterwards constituted bishop of Athens; and that this was done by St. Paul himself we are informed by the Apostolical Constitutions, by Aristides cited by Usuard, and by several ancient martyrologists. Aristides quoted by Usuard, and St. Sophronius of Jerusalem, styled him a martyr. The Greeks, in their menologies, tells us that he was burnt alive for the faith as Athens.† His name occurs in ancient calendars on the 3d of October. The cathedral of Soissons is in possession of his head, which was brought thither from Constantinople, in 1205. Pope Innocent III. sent to the abbey of St. Denis, near Paris, the body of this saint, which had been translated from Greece to Rome.

We admire in this glorious saint, and other illustrious primitive converts, the wonderful change which faith produced in their souls. It not only enlightened their understandings, discovering to them new fields of the most sublime and important knowledge, and opening to their meditation the boundless range of eternity, and of the infinite riches of the divine goodness justice, and mercy; but it also exerted the most powerful influence upon their wills. A spirit of the most sincere and profound compunction and humility was created in them, with a perfect contempt of the world, and all earthly things, and an entire disengagement of their hearts from all inordinate attachment to creatures. The fire of pure and ardent charity was also kindled in their hearts, which consumed all the rust of their passions, and purged their affections. From these virtues of humility and charity, which Christ declares to be the foundation of his spirit in a soul, arose an unalterable meekness, peace, fortitude, and constancy, with the whole train of virtues. Thus, by their conversion to the faith, they were interiorly changed, and became quite new men, endued with a temper truly heavenly, and animated with the spirit of Christ. The light of faith spreads its beams upon our souls. Why hen has it not produced the same reformation and change in our wills and affections? This it cannot do while we refuse to open our hearts to this grace, and earnestly set ourselves to remove all obstacles of self-love and the passions. Yet, till this change be wrought in our affections, we are earthly, strangers to the spirit of Christ, and want the mark, of meekness and charity, by which those are to be known that belong to him. A Christian is not a mere name, or empty profession; it is a great and noble work; a work of difficulty which requires assiduous application, and continual pains; and in which the greater our endeavors and advances have been, with the greater ardor do we continually strive to advance higher towards perfection, saying with St. Paul, Not as though I had already attained, or were already perfect; but I follow after. I count not myself to have apprehended; but this one thing I do: forgetting the things that are behind, and stretching forth myself to those that are before, I press towards the mark, to the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.3

OCTOBER 3 — ST. GERARD, ABBOT

The county of Namur gave birth to this saint, who, being nearly related to Haganon, duke of Lower Austrasia, and educated in the military service, was preferred young to one of the most honorable posts in the household or palace of Berenger, the sovereign count of Namur, whose court was one of the most splendid in Christendom. An engaging sweetness of temper, and a strong inclination to piety and devotion, gained him from the cradle the esteem and affection of every one, and his courtesy and universal beneficence gave the greatest charms to virtue, and made it shine forth by his whole conduct in the most amiable light. He proportioned his profuse alms to the utmost extent of his large revenues and estates, and knew no imaginary necessities which serve so often for pretences to withhold charities, being sensible that a man gains nothing by putting a cheat upon his own soul; for it is the truth that will judge us, which can neither be altered nor weakened by the illusions of the passions, or by the false prejudices of men. God blessed his fidelity by pouring forth abundantly his choicest graces upon him. Gerard was enriched by him with an extraordinary gift of prayer, and by this he obtained all other graces. Such was his ardor and affection for this heavenly exercise, that he seemed to pray everywhere, and at all times. One day, as he returned from hunting, in which diversion he had accompanied his sovereign, while the rest went to take some refreshment, he privately stole into a retired chapel at Brogne, which was part of his own estate, and remained there a long time in devout prayer. He found so much interior sweetness in that heavenly exercise, that he rose from it with extreme, regret, and said to himself, “How happy are they who have no other employment but to praise the Lord night and day, to live always in his sweet presence, and to consecrate their hearts to him without interruption.” To procure this happiness for others, and this incessant tribute and honor to the supreme majesty of God, he founded in that place several canonries and prebends, and built there a fair church in 918. The earl, his sovereign, who, from the experience which he had of his prudence and virtue, placed in him an entire confidence, sent him to the court of France open an important commission. At Paris, leaving his attendants in the city be retired to the abbey of St. Denis, where he was exceedingly edified with the fervor and solitude of the holy monks, and earnestly desired to dedicate himself to God in that place. For the execution of this design the consent of his sovereign was necessary; which, upon his return to Namur, he extorted from him, though with great difficulty. His uncle Stephen being bishop of Tongres, he went thither to receive his blessing and advice, and having settled his temporal affairs, went back with great joy to St. Denis’s, of make the sacrifice of himself at the foot of God’s altar. During his novitiate he spared no mortification and self-denials, that he might begin more perfectly to die to himself: without which condition our virtues themselves are often false or imperfect, being tainted with self-love. For, in the most holy functions, men often seek to please themselves rather than God, and gratify some subtle inordinate passion. When we seem to propose no other aim but God’s glory, the deceitfulness of self-love is even more dangerous, because less capable of discovery. So long as this principle of self-love resides and is cherished in the heart, it prompts us to conceive a secret opinion of our labors, and to seek an unwarranted delight in our endeavors. This shows itself by our want of perfect humility and meekness, both towards others, and towards ourselves; by a secret fretfulness, sourness, or discouragements into which we sometimes fall. This source must be cut off, otherwise it will easily creep into and debase the purity of our affections, and intention in our religious exercises themselves, and will be an insuperable bar to our progress in divine love, and in the perfect union of our affections to God in holy prayer.

Gerard, after his religious profession, labored every day with greater fervor to carry on all Christian virtues to their noblest heights, and especially those of humility, meekness, penance, obedience, and devout prayer, the main helps by which divine charity is to be made daily more pure and perfect in a soul. Gerard began his studies from the first elements, and went through them with incredible patience and assiduity. Five years after his profession he received priestly orders, though his humility was not to be overcome in this promotion without great difficulty. When he had lived ten years with great fervor in this monastery, in 931 he was sent by his abbot to found an abbey upon his estate at Brogne, three leagues from Namur. He had no sooner settled this new abbey, but finding the dissipation of receiving visitants, and of the charge of a numerous community, to break in too much upon his retirement, and to interrupt his prayer, he built himself a little cell near the church, and lived in it a recluse. God, some time after, called him again to the active life for the greater advancement of his glory, and Gerard was obliged to take upon him the reformation of the regular canons at St. Guilhain, six miles from Mons, in which house he established the holy order of St. Bennet, of which he became one of the greatest ornaments and propagators. At the request of earl Arnold I., surnamed the Great, whom the saint had miraculously cured of the stone, and whom he had engaged to take up a penitential course of life, which he held to his death, the general inspection and reformation of all the abbeys in Flanders was committed to him; and he introduced a new and most exact discipline in eighteen monasteries, namely, St. Peter’s at Ghent, St. Bavo’s, St. Martin’s at Tournay, Marciennes, Hanon, Rhonay, St. Vaast’s at Arras, Turhoult, Wormhoult at Berg, St. Riquier’s, St. Bertin’s, St. Silvin’s, St. Samer’s, St. Amand’s, St. Ame’s, and St. Berta’s; all which houses honor him as their abbot and second patriarch. The monasteries of Champagne, Lorraine, and Picardy, also chose him for their general master and reformer; those especially of St. Remigius of Rheims, of Mouson, and of Thin le Moutier, call him to this day the restorer of their discipline, and of the order of St. Bennet. No fatigues made the saint abate any thing of his ordinary austerities, nor did his employs seem to interrupt the continual sweet communication of his soul with God. When he had spent almost twenty years in these zealous labors, and was broken with old age, he travelled to Rome, and obtained of the pope the confirmation of all the reforms which he had made.* After his return he made a general visitation of all the monasteries that were under his direction; which when he had finished, he shut himself up in his cell, to prepare his soul, by the most fervent exercises of the pure love of God, to go to receive the recompense of his labors, to which he was called on the 3d of October, in 959. The abbey of Brogue is now united to the bishopric of Namur, erected by Paul IV., but the church of Brogne still possesses the treasure of his relics, and retains his name, which is mentioned on this day in the Roman Martyrology, and others. See his exact life in Mabillon, Act. Bened. t. 7. Also Gramaye in Historia et Antiquitatibus comitatus Namurcensis, p. 72; Bie the Bollandist, t. 2, Oct. pp. 220, 320.

OCTOBER 3 — THE TWO EWALDS, MM

Soon after St. Willibrord with eleven companions, in 690, had opened the spiritual harvest in Friesland, two brothers, both priests, of the English nation, followed their example, and went over into the country of the ancient Saxons, in Westphalia in Germany, to preach the gospel to blind idolaters.† They had travelled into Ireland to improve themselves in virtue and sacred learning. Both were called by the same name, Ewald or Hewald; but, for distinction’s sake, from the color of their hair, the one was called the Black, the other the White Ewald. The first was esteemed more learned in the holy scriptures, but both seemed equally to excel in the fervor of devotion and holy zeal. The old Saxons in Germany were at that time governed by several petty princes, who in time of war joined their forces, and cast lots who should command the army in chief, and him the rest were bound to obey; and, as soon as the war was over, they were all reduced to their former condition. The two brothers arriving in this country about the year 694, met with a certain steward, whom they desired to conduct them to his lord. All the way they were constantly employed in prayer and in singing psalms and sacred hymns, and every day offered the sacrifice of the holy oblation, for which purpose they carried with them sacred vessels, and a consecrated table for an altar. The barbarians observing this, and fearing lest the preachers might prevail upon their lord to forsake his idols, resolved to murder them both. The White Ewald they killed by the sword upon the spot; but they inflicted on the other brother most cruel torments, and at length tore him limb from limb. The lord of the territory being informed of this inhuman action, was highly incensed, put the authors of it to the sword, and burned their village. The bodies of the martyrs, which had been thrown by the murderers into the Rhine, were discovered by a heavenly light which shone over them, and by other miracles, to their companions, who were forty miles distant from the place where they were martyred; and one of them, whose name was Tilmon, or as it is more correctly written in king Alfred’s paraphrase of Bede, Tilman, was admonished in a vision to take them up. This Tilman being a person of high birth, had formerly been an officer in the English army, but was then a monk, and one of the missionaries in Germany. These relics were first taken up and interred by their fellow missionaries, Tilman and his companions, forty miles from the place of their martyrdom; but, immediately after, by an order of Pepin, duke of the French, were honorably conveyed to Cologne, where they are kept at this day in a gilt shrine in the church of St. Cunibert. Their martyrdom happened between the years 690 and 700, most probably in 695. They were honored among the saints immediately after their death, as appears from Ven. Bede’s prose Martyrology, which seems to have been written a year after their death. St. Anno, archbishop of Cologne, in 1074, translated their relics in this church. He bestowed their heads on Frederick bishop of Munster, where they seem to have been destroyed by the Anabaptists in 1534. They are honored through all Westphalia as tutelar saints of the country, and are mentioned in the Roman Martyrology on the 3d of October, which was probably either the day of their death or of some translation. See Bede, Hist.1. 5, c. 11, and in his prose Martyrology; Alcuin’s poem on the saints of the diocese of York, published by Gale, v. 1045; Massini, Vite de Santi, t. 2, p. 232, 3 Oct.

OCTOBER 4 — SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISIUM, C. FOUNDER OF THE FRIAR MINORS

From his life written by St. Bonaventure, with the notes of Sedullus, and F. Wadding, a learned Irish Franciscan, who flourished in Spain and Italy. See also F. Helyot, Hist. des Ordres Relig. t. 7, p. 1, and the life of this saint very well compiled, and illustrated with accurate Dissertations, by F. Candidus Chalippe, a French Recollect, in two volumes, 12mo. in 1736. Suysken, the Bollandist, gives us a life of St. Francis never before published, written in a great detail of circumstances by his disciple Thomas de Celano, whom he had received into his order. This life was compiled before that by St. Bonaventure and before the translation of the saint’s body in 1230.

A. D. 1226.

THE life of the glorious St. Francis, which was a miracle of humility, loudly condemns the wise ones of this world, to whom the sincere practice of this virtue, and the imitation of the cross of Christ appears a scandal and a folly, as the cross itself did to the Jews and Gentiles. For, among Christians, they who walk enemies to the cross, are strangers to the spirit of Christ, glory in vain in his name, and falsely call themselves his followers. He communicates himself, and imparts the riches of his graces and holy love to those whose hearts are most perfectly disengaged from all earthly things, and on souls which are grounded in sincere humility and simplicity of heart, his divine Spirit rests. The blessed St. Francis was one of these happy little ones, whom God chose to enrich with spiritual knowledge and heavenly gifts of virtue. He was born at Assisium, in Umbria, in the Ecclesiastical State, in 1182. His father, Peter Bernardon, was descended of a gentleman’s family originally settled at Florence, but was himself a merchant, and lived at Assisium, a town situated on the brow of a hill called Assi. The saint’s mother was called Pica. Both his parents were persons of great probity. They were in good circumstances, but so taken up with their business as to neglect giving their son any tincture of learning. Their trade lying in part with the French, they made him learn that language; and from the readiness with which he acquired and spoke it, he was called Francis, though the name of John had been given him at his baptism. In his youth he was too much led away with vain amusements, and was very intent on temporal gain; but he never let loose the reins of his sensual appetites, nor placed his confidence in worldly riches: and it was his custom never to refuse an alms to any poor man who asked it of him for the love of God. One day being very busy about his affairs, he let a beggar go away without an alms; but, immediately reproaching himself with want of charity, ran after the poor man, gave him an alms, and bound himself by a vow never to refuse it to any poor man that should ask it for the love of God: this vow he kept to his death. Francis, while he yet lived in the world, was meek, patient, very tractable, and liberal to the poor beyond what his circumstances seemed to allow of. Whenever he heard the love of God named, he felt in his soul an interior spiritual jubilation. His patience under two accidents which befell him, contributed greatly to the improvement of his virtue. The one was, that in a war between the cities of Perugia and Assisium, he, with several others, was carried away prisoner by the Perugians. This affliction he suffered a whole year with great alacrity, and comforted his companions. The second was a long and dangerous sickness, which he suffered with so great patience and piety, that by the weakness of his body his spirit gathered greater strength, and improved in the unction of the Holy Ghost and the divine gift of prayer. After his recovery, as he rode out one day in a new suit of clothes, meeting on the road a decayed gentleman then reduced to poverty and very ill clad, he was touched with compassion to the quick, and changed clothes with him. The night following, he seemed to see in his sleep a magnificent palace, filled with rich arms, all marked with the sign of the cross; and he thought he heard one toll him that these arms belonged to him and his soldiers, if they would take up the cross and fight courageously under its banner. After this, he gave himself much to prayer; by which he felt in his soul a great contempt of all transitory things, and an ardent desire of selling his goods, and buying the precious jewel of the gospel. He knew not yet how he should best do this, but he felt certain strong inspirations, by which our Lord gave him to understand that the spiritual warfare of Christ is begun by mortification and the victory over one’s self. These interior motions awakened him, and inflamed him every day more and more to desire to attain to the perfect mortification of his senses, and contempt of himself. Riding one day in the plains of Assisium, he met a leper whose sores were so loathsome, that at the sight of them he was struck with horror, and suddenly recoiled; but overcoming himself he alighted, and as the leper stretched forth his hand to receive an alms, Francis, while he bestowed it, kissed his sores with great tenderness.

Resolving with fresh ardor to aim at Christian perfection, he had no relish but for solitude and prayer, and besought our Lord with great fervor to reveal to him his will. Being one day wholly absorbed in God, he seemed to behold Christ hanging upon his cross; from which vision he was so tenderly affected, that he was never afterwards able to remember the sufferings of Christ without shedding many tears, and, from that time, he was animated with an extraordinary spirit of poverty, charity, and piety. He often visited the hospitals, served the sick, as if in them he had served Christ himself, and kissed the ulcers of the lepers with great affection and humility. He gave to the poor sometimes part of his clothes, and sometimes money. He took a journey to Rome to visit the tombs of the apostles, and finding a multitude of poor before the door of St. Peter’s church, he gave his clothes to one whom he thought to be most in need among them; and clothing himself with the rags of that poor man, he remained all that day in the company of those beggars, feeling an extraordinary comfort and joy in his soul. Having interiorly the cross of Christ imprinted on his heart, he endeavored earnestly to mortify and crucify his flesh. One day as he was praying in the church of St. Damian, without the walls of Assisium, before a crucifix, he seemed to hear a voice coming from it, which said to him three times: “Francis, go and repair my house, which thou seest falling.” The saint seeing that church was old, and ready to fall to the ground, thought our Lord commanded him to repair it. He therefore went home, and by an action which was only justifiable by the simplicity of his heart, and the right of a partnership with his father in trade, (for he was then twenty-five years old,) took a horse-load of cloth out of his father’s warehouse, and sold it, with the horse, at Foligni, a town twelve miles from Assisium. The price he brought to the old poor priest of St. Damian’s, desiring to stay with him. The priest consented to his staying, but would not take the money, which Francis therefore laid in a window. His father hearing what had been done, came in a rage to St. Damian’s, but was somewhat pacified upon recovering his money, which he found in the window. Francis, to shun his anger, had hid himself; but, after some days spent in prayer and fasting, appeared again in the streets, though so disfigured and ill clad, that the people pelted him and called him madman, all which he bore with joy. Bernardon, more incensed than ever, carried him home, beat him unmercifully, put fetters on his feet, and locked him up in a chamber till his mother set him at liberty while his father was gone out. Francis returned to St. Damian’s, and his father following him thither, insisted that he should either return home, or renounce before the bishop all his share in his inheritance, and all manner of expectations from his family. The son accepted the latter condition with joy, gave his father whatever he had in his pockets, told him he was ready to undergo more blows and chains for the love of Jesus Christ, whose disciple he desired to be, and cheerfully went with his father before the bishop of Assisium, to make a legal renunciation to his inheritance in form. Being come into his presence, Francis, impatient of delays, while the instrument was drawing up, made the renunciation by the following action, carrying it in his fervor further than was required. He stripped himself of his clothes, and gave them to his father, saying, cheerfully and meekly: “Hitherto I have called you father on earth; but now I say with more confidence, Our Father, who art in heaven, in whom I place all my hope and treasure.” He renounced the world with greater pleasure than others can receive its favors, hoping now to be freed from all that which is most apt to make a division in our hearts with God, or even to drive him quite out. The bishop admired his fervor, covered him with his cloak, and shedding many tears, ordered some garment or other to be brought in for him. The cloak of a country laborer, a servant of the bishop, was found next at hand. The saint received this first alms with many thanks, made a cross on the garment with chalk or mortar, and put it on. This happened in the twenty-fifth year of his age, in 1206.*

Francis went out of the bishop’s palace in search of some convenient retirement, singing the divine praises along the highways. He was met by a band of robbers in a wood, who asked him who he was. He answered with confidence: “I am the herald of the great king.” They beat him, and threw him into a ditch full of snow. He rejoiced to have been so treated, and went on singing the praises of God. He passed by a monastery, and there received an alms as an unknown poor man. In the city of Gubbio one who knew him took him into his house, and gave him an entire suit of clothes, which were decent, though poor and mean. These he wore two years with a girdle and shoes, and he walked with a staff in his hand like a hermit. At Gubbio he visited the hospital of lepers, and served them, washing their feet, and wiping and kissing their ulcers. For the repairs of the church of St. Damian, he gathered alms and begged in the city of Assisium, where all had known him rich. He bore with joy the railleries and contempt with which he was treated by his father, brother, and all his acquaintance, and if he found himself to blush upon receiving any confusion, he endeavored to court and increase his disgrace, in order to humble himself the more, and to overcome all inclinations of pride in his heart. For the building of St. Damian’s he himself carried stones, and served the masons, and saw that church put in good repair. Having a singular devotion to St. Peter, he next did the same for an old church which was dedicated in honor of that great apostle. After this, he retired to a little church called Portiuncula, belonging to the abbey of Benedictin monks of Subiaco, who gave it that name, because it was built on a small estate or parcel of land which belonged to them. It stands in a spacious, open plain, almost a mile from Assisium, and was at that time forsaken, and in a very ruinous condition. The retiredness of this place was very agreeable to St. Francis, and he was much delighted with the title which this church bore, it being dedicated in honor of our Lady of Angels; a circumstance very pleasing to him for his singular devotion to the holy angels, and to the queen of angels. Francis repaired this church in 1207, in the same manner he had done the two others; he fixed his abode by it, made it the usual place of his devotions, and received in it many heavenly favors. He had spent here two years in sighs and tears, when hearing one day those words of Christ: Do not carry gold, or silver, or a scrip for your journey, or two coats, or a staff,1 read* in the gospel at mass, he desired of the priest after mass, an exposition of them; and applying them literally to himself, he gave away his money, and leaving off his shoes, staff, and leathern girdle, contented himself with one poor coat, which he girt about him with a cord. This was the habit which he gave to his friars the year following. It was the dress of the poor shepherds and country peasants in those parts. The saint added a short cloak over the shoulders, and a capuche to cover the head. St. Bonaventure, in 1260, made this capuche or mozetta a little longer, to cover the breast and shoulders. Some of the very habits which the saint wore, are still shown at Assisium, Florence, and other places. In this attire he exhorted the people to penance with such energy, that his words pierced the hearts of his hearers. Before his discourses he saluted the people with these words: “Our Lord give you peace;” which he sometimes said he had learned by divine revelation. They express the salutation which Christ and St. Paul used. God had already favored the saint with the gilts of prophecy and miracles. When he was begging alms to repair the church of St. Damian, he used to say: “Assist me to finish this building. Here will one day be a monastery of holy virgins, by whose good fame our Lord will be glorified over the whole church.” This was verified in St. Clare, five years after, who inserted this prophecy in her last will and testament.2 Before this, a man in the duchy of Spoletto was afflicted with a horrible running cancer, which had gnawn both his mouth and cheeks in a hideous manner. Having, without receiving any benefit, had recourse to all remedies that could be suggested, and made several pilgrimages to Rome for the recovery of his health, he came to St. Francis, and would have thrown himself at his feet, but the saint prevented him, and kissed his ulcerous sore, which was in stantly healed. “I know not,” says St. Bonaventure, “which I ought most to admire, such a kiss, or such a cure.” The sufferings of our divine Redeemer were a principal object of our saint’s devotions, and, in his assiduous meditation on them, he was not able to contain the torrents of his tears. A stranger passing by the Portiuncula, heard his sighs, and stepping in, was astonished to see the abundance of tears in which he found him bathed; for which he reproached him as for a silly weakness. The saint answered: “I weep for the sufferings of my Lord Jesus Christ. I ought not to blush to weep publicly over the whole earth at the remembrance of this wonderful mystery.” Does not a Christian die of grief and shame, who feels not these sentiments of love, gratitude, and compunction in this contemplation? Only the impious can be insensible at this great spectacle. “For my part,” says St. Austin to his flock, “I desire to mourn with you over it. The passion of our Lord calls for our sighs, our tears, our supplications. Who is able to shed such abundance of tears as so great a subject deserves? Certainly no one, though a fountain was placed in his eyes.3 Let us consider what Christ suffered, that we may accompany him with more vehement sighs and abundant tears.”4 It was from the passion of Christ that St. Francis learned his perfect sentiments of Christian humility and piety.

Many began to admire the heroic and uniform virtue of this great servant of God, and some desired to be his companions and disciples. The first of these was Bernard of Quintaval, a rich tradesman of Assisium, a person of singular prudence, and of great authority in that city, which had been long directed by his counsels. Seeing the extraordinary conduct of St. Francis, he invited him to sup at his house, and had a good bed made ready for him near his own. When Bernard seemed to be fallen asleep, the servant of God arose, and falling on his knees, with his eyes lifted up, and his arms across, repeated very slow, with abundance of tears, the whole night, Deus meus et Omnia—“My God and my All.” The ardor with which he poured forth his soul in these words, by most fervent acts of adoration, love, praise, thanksgiving, and compunction, was admirable, and the tender and vehement manner of his prayer, expressed strongly how much the divine love filled the whole capacity of his heart. Bernard secretly watched the saint all night, by the light of a lamp, saying to himself, “This man is truly a servant of God;” and admiring the happiness of such a one, whose heart is entirely filled with God, and to whom the whole world is nothing. After many other proofs of the sincere and admirable sanctity of Francis, being charmed and vanquished by his example, he begged the saint to make him his companion. Francis recommended the matter to God for some time; they both heard mass together, and took advice that they might learn the will of God. The design being approved, Bernard sold all his effects, and divided the sum among the poor in one day. Peter of Catana, a canon of the cathedral of Assisium, desired to be admitted with him. The saint gave his habit to them both together on the 16th of August, 1209, which is called the foundation of this order though some date it a year sooner, when the saint himself, upon hearing the gospel read, embraced this manner of life. The third person who joined them was Giles,* a person of great simplicity and virtue. They first joined St. Francis in his cell at the Portiuncula; the two first soon after he had changed his habit: upon which he went to Rome and obtained a verba approbation of his order from Innocent IV. in the same year 1209, a little before Otho IV. was crowned emperor at Rome about the close of September. The saint at his return settled at Rivo-Torto, near Assisium, where he inhabited with his disciples an abandoned cottage. After an excursion into the marquisate of Ancona to preach penance, he brought back his disciples to the Portiuncula. When their number was augmented to one hundred and twenty-seven, St. Francis assembling them together, spoke to them in a most pathetic manner of the kingdom of God, the contempt of the world, the renouncing their own will, and the mortification of their senses; adding, in the end of his discourse: “Fear not to appear little and contemptible, or to be called by men fools and madmen; but announce penance in simplicity, trusting in Him who overcame the world by humility; it is He that will speak in you by his spirit. Let us take care that we do not lose the kingdom of heaven for any temporal interest, and that we never despise those who live otherwise than we do. God is their master, as he is ours, and he can call them to himself by other ways.”

The saint composed a rule for his order, consisting of the gospel counsels of perfection, to which he added some things necessary for uniformity in their manner of life. He exhorts his brethren to manual labor, but will have them content to receive for it things necessary for life, not money. He bids them not to be ashamed to beg alms, remembering the poverty of Christ; and he forbids them to preach in any place without the bishop’s license. He carried his rule to Rome, to obtain the pope’s approbation. Innocent III., who then sat in St. Peter’s chair, appeared at first averse, and many of the cardinals alleged that the orders already established ought to be reformed, but their number not multiplied; and that the intended poverty of this new institute was impracticable. Cardinal Colonna, bishop of Salina, pleaded in its favor, that it was no more than the evangelical counsels of perfection. The pope consulted for some time, and had the affair recommended to God. He afterwards told his nephew, from whom St. Bonaventure heard it, that in a dream he saw a palm-tree growing up at his feet; in another vision, some time after, he saw St. Francis propping up the Lateran church, which seemed ready to fall; as he saw St. Dominic, in another vision, five years after. He therefore sent again for St. Francis, and approved his rule, but only by word of mouth, in 1210, and he ordained him deacon.* The first design of St. Francis and his companions was, to form a holy society with no other view than that of studying most perfectly to die to themselves, that they might live only by the life of Jesus Christ, in holy solitude, having no commerce but with God; but it pleased God afterwards to inspire the zealous founder with an earnest desire of laboring to bring sinners to repentance. He deliberated with his brethren upon this subject, and they consulted God by devout prayer. The result was, that St. Francis was persuaded that God had manifested his will to him by his holy inspiration during his fervent prayers, that he had called him and his brethren to preach penance to the world by word and example.

St. Francis having obtained of his holiness an oral approbation of his institute, left Rome with his twelve disciples, and returned with them, first to the valley of Spoletto, and thence to Assisium, where they lived together in a little cottage at Rivo Torto, without the gates of the town; and they sometimes went into the country to preach. Soon after, the Benedictins of Monte Soubazo bestowed on the founder the church of the Portiuncula, upon condition that it should always continue the head church of his order. The saint refused to accept the property or dominion, but would only have the use of the place; and, in token that he held it of the monks, he sent them every year, as an acknowledgment, a basket of little fish, called laschi of which there is great plenty in a neighboring river. The monks always sent the friars, in return, a barrel of oil. St. Francis would not suffer any dominion or property of temporal goods to be vested even in his order, or in any community or convent in it, (as in other religious orders,) that he might more perfectly and more affectionately say in his heart, that the house in which he lived, the bread which he ate, and the poor clothes which he wore, were none of his; and that he possessed nothing of any earthly goods, being a disciple of Him who, for our sakes, was born a stranger in an open stable, lived without a place of his own wherein to lay his head, subsisting by the charity of good people, and died naked on a cross in the close embraces of holy poverty, in order to expiate our sins, and to cure our passions of covetousness, sensuality, pride, and ambition. The motives which recommended to St. Francis so high an esteem of holy poverty, and made him so great a lover of that virtue, were, first, the resemblance which we bear by this state to the life of our divine Redeemer, who was pleased to become voluntarily poor for us, and lived in extreme poverty from his first to his last breath in his mortal life. Secondly, the spiritual advantage which this state affords for the perfecting in our souls the habits of humility, patience, meekness, and other heroic virtues, by their repeated acts, which are exercised under the inconveniences, privations, sufferings, and humiliations which attend that condition. Thirdly, the powerful remedies which holy poverty offers for the cure of our irregular desires, especially of all inordinate love of the world; but this virtue consists not in an exterior poverty, which may be very vicious, and full of irregular desires; but in that poverty which is called holy, that is, in the spirit and love of poverty, and of its privations and humiliations, resulting from perfect motives of virtue. It is this alone which deserves the recompense promised by Christ, extirpates the passions, and is the mistress of many other virtues. This spirit and love of holy poverty our saint learned by assiduous humble meditation on the life and passion of Christ, the great book of a spiritual life; and this is the poverty which he assiduously and most earnestly recommended to his followers. When they one day asked him which of all virtues is the most agreeable to God, he answered, “Poverty is the way to salvation, the nurse of humility, and the root of perfection. Its fruits are hidden, but they multiply themselves infinite ways.” He speaks of the spirit of poverty as the root of humility and divine charity, in the same sense that some others speak of humble obedience, inasmuch as both spring from and reciprocally entertain a sincere and cordial affection of humility. St. Francis called the spirit of holy poverty the foundation of his order; and in his habit, in every thing that he used, and in all his actions, he carried his affection for it to the greatest nicety. He sometimes ordered houses already built for his religious to be pulled down, because he thought them too large and sumptuous for their state of the most severe evangelical poverty. Returning once from a journey to the Portiuncula, he found a new building made there, which he judged to be too neat and commodious. He therefore insisted that it should be demolished; till the citizens of Assisium declared that they had built it for the lodgings of strangers, who must otherwise lie in the fields, and that it was no way intended for his order. In his rule he prescribed that the churches of his religious should be low and small, and all their other buildings of wood, but some persons representing to him that in certain countries wood is dearer than stone, he struck out this last condition, requiring only that all their buildings should be suitable to that strict poverty which they professed. God is glorified by every spirit that is founded upon sincere motives of humility, penance, and charity; and this saint’s admirable love of holy poverty, which confounds the sensuality, pride, and avarice which reign so much among men, derogates not from the merit of their virtue, who make a just and holy use of the things of this world to the glory of God, so as still to maintain a disengagement of heart, and a true spirit of poverty, compunction, penance, humility, and all other virtues, which are never perfect if any one in the whole train be wanting or imperfect.

Holy poverty was dearer to St. Francis through his extraordinary love of penance. He scarce allowed his body what was necessary to sustain life, and found out every day new ways of afflicting and mortifying it. If any part of his rough habit seemed too soft, he sewed it with packthread, and was wont to say to his brethren that the devils easily tempted those that wore soft garments. His bed was ordinarily the ground, or he slept sitting, and used for his bolster a piece of wood or a stone. Unless he was sick, he very rately ate any thing that was dressed with fire, and, when he did, he usually put ashes or water upon it; often his nourishment was only a little coarse bread, on which he sometimes strewed ashes. He drank clear water, and that very moderately, how great thirst or heat soever he suffered. He fasted rigorously eight lents in the year. Seculars were much edified that, to conform himself to them, he allowed his religious to eat flesh meat; which the end of his institute made necessary.* He called his body brother Ass, because it was to carry burdens, to be beaten, and to eat little and coarsely. When he saw any one idle, eating of other men’s labors, he called him brother Fly, because he did no good, but spoiled the good which others did, and was troublesome to them. As a man owes a discreet charity to his own body, the saint, a few days before he died, asked pardon of his for having treated it perhaps with too great rigor, excusing himself that he had done it the better to secure and guard the purity of his soul, and for the greater service of God. Indiscreet or excessive austerities always displeased him. When a brother, by immoderate abstinence, was not able to sleep, the saint brought him some bread, and, that he might eat it with less confusion, began himself to eat with him.

The care with which he watched over himself to preserve the virtue of purity, ought not to be passed over. In the beginning of his conversion, finding himself assailed with violent temptations of concupiscence, he often cast himself into ditches full of snow. Once, under a more grievous assault than ordinary, he presently began to discipline himself sharply: then with great fervor of spirit he went out of his cell, and rolled himself in the snow; after this, having made seven great heaps of snow, he said to himself, “Imagine these were thy wife and children ready to die of cold; thou must then take great pains to maintain them.” Whereupon he set himself again to labor in the cold. By the vigor and fervor with which he on that occasion subdued his domestic enemy, he obtained so complete a victory, that he never felt any more assaults. Yet he continued always most wary in shunning every occasion of danger; and, in treating with women, kept so strict a watch over his eyes, that he scarce knew any woman by sight. It was a usual saying with him, that, “by occasions the strong become weak. To converse too frequently with women, and not suffer by it, is as hard as to take fire into one’s bosom, and not to be burnt. What has a religious man to do,” says he, “to treat with women, unless it be when he heart their confession, or gives them necessary spiritual instructions? He that thinks himself secure, is undone; the devil finding somewhat to take hold on, though it be but a hair, raises a dreadful war.”

With extreme austerity, St. Francis joined the most profound humility of heart. He was in his own eyes the basest and most despicable of all men, and desired to be reputed such by all; he loved contempt, and sincerely shunned honor and praise. If others commended him, and showed any esteem of his virtue, he often said to himself, “What every one is in the eyes of God, that he is, and no more.” He frequently commanded some friar to revile him with reproachful language. Thus he once repeated: “O brother Francis, for thy sins thou hast deserved to be plunged into hell.” And ordered brother Leo as often to reply: “It is true, you have deserved to be buried in the very bottom of hell.” When he was not able to avoid the esteem of others he was overwhelmed with secret confusion. “I refer honors and praises,” said he once to another, “entirely to God, to whom they are due. I take no share in them, but behold myself in the filth of my own baseness and nothingness, and sink lower and lower in it. Statues of wood or stone take nothing to themselves, and are insensible to the respect and honor which is given them, not at all on their own account, but for the sake of those whom they represent. And if men honor God in his creatures even in me the last and vilest among them, I consider him alone.” When he preached, he often published his own faults, that he might be despised. He was very careful to conceal the gifts of God; and to those who seemed to express an esteem for his person, he would sometimes say: “No one can justly be praised who is not yet secure in himself, and while we know not what he will be.” At other times he said: “No one can boast, because he does those things which a sinner can do, as fasting, weeping, and chastising his flesh. There is one thing which no sinner does; which is, if we faithfully serve the Lord, and ascribe purely to him whatever he gives us.” A certain holy friar, and companion of St. Francis, was favored with a vision at prayer, in which he saw a bright throne prepared in heaven, and heard a voice telling him, that it was for the humble Francis. After having received this vision, he asked the saint how he could with truth think and call himself the greatest sinner in the world? To which the saint answered: “If God had bestowed on the greatest sinner the favors he has done me, he would have been more grateful than I am; and if he had left me to myself, I should have committed greater wickedness than all other sinners.” From this humility it was that he would not be ordained priest, but always remained in the degree of deacon; he bore the greatest reverence to all priests. An effect of the same humility was his extreme love of obedience, and his often asking counsel of his lowest subjects, though he had the gift of prophecy, and was endued with an extraordinary heavenly discretion and light. In his journeys from place to place he used to promise obedience to the brother whom he took with him for his companion. He said once, that among the many favors God had done him, one was, that he would as willingly and as diligently obey a novice who had lived but one hour in a religious state, (if he was set over him by his warden or guardian,) as he would the most ancient and discreet among the fathers, because a subject is not to regard the person whom he obeys, but God, whose place every superior holds with regard to us. Being asked how one that is truly obedient ought to behave, he said, he ought to be like a dead body. He was a great enemy to all singularity. In a certain convent of his order he was told, that one of the friars was a man of admirable virtue, and so great a lover of silence that he would only confess his faults by signs. The saint did not like it, and said, “This is not the spirit of God, but of the devil; a foul temptation, not a divine virtue.” It afterwards appeared, by the misconduct of this poor religious man, by how deceitful a singularity he separated himself from the conversation of his brethren. Like instances happened on other occasions. The saint’s extreme aversion to the least shadow of dissimulation or hypocrisy appeared in his whole conduct. In the greatest sicknesses he would not allow himself the least indulgence which was not made public; and refused to wear any clothing to cover his breast in a dangerous cold, unless it was visible to others.

This saint, who by humility and self-denial was perfectly crucified and dead to himself, seemed by the ardor of his charity to be rather a seraph incarnate than a frail man in a mortal slate. Hence he seemed to live by prayer, and was assiduously employed in holy contemplation; for he that loves much, desires to converse with the person whom he loves; in this he places his treasure and his happiness, and finds no entertainment or delight like that of dwelling upon his excellencies and greatness. St. Francis retired every year, after the feast of the Epiphany, in honor of the forty days which Christ spent in the desert, and shutting himself up in his cell, he spent all that time in rigorous fasting and devout prayer. He communicated very often, and ordinarily with ecstasies, in which his soul was rapt and suspended in God. He recited the canonical hours with great devotion and reverence, always standing with his head bare, and usually with his eyes bathed in tears, never leaning upon any thing, even when he was very weak and sick. When he travelled he always stopped at the canonical hours of prayer, for the sake of greater recollection and attention; and he used to say, that if the body, when it eats corruptible food, desires to be at rest, why should not this be granted the soul when it takes heavenly sustenance. Out of tender devotion and reverence to the names of God and of Jesus Christ, if he found them written in any paper thrown on the ground, he took it up, and put it in some decent place; for his trial God once abandoned him to a violent desolation of soul and spiritual dryness during two months, till, by assiduous prayer, he suddenly found himself again replenished with the delights of the Holy Ghost, and his sensible presence. Though he felt a wonderful tenderness of devotion to all the mysteries of the life of our Saviour; yet he was most affected, next to those of his sacred passion, with that of his holy nativity, by reason of the poverty, cold, and nakedness in which the divine infant made his appearance in the stable and crib at Bethlehem. One Christmas-night the saint having sung the gospel at mass, preaching to the people on the nativity of the poor king, he was not able to satiate the tender affection of his heart by repeating often with incredible sweetness his holy name under the appellation of the Little Babe of Bethlehem. He never spoke, or heard mention made of the holy mystery of the Incarnation without feeling the most tender affection of devotion. He was principally affected with those words; The Word was made flesh. He had a singular devotion to the Mother of God, (whom he chose for the special patroness of his order,) and in her honor he fasted from the feast of SS. Peter and Paul to that of her Assumption. After this festival he fasted forty days, and prayed much, out of devotion to the angels, especially the archangel Michael; and at All Saints he fasted other forty days. Under the name of these Lents he spent almost the whole year in fasting and prayer, though he at no time interrupted his penitential austerities and devout recollection. Notwithstanding many great troubles which the devils, both interiorly, and sometimes visibly, raised to disturb him, and withdraw him from prayer, he always persevered constant in that heavenly exercise; nor were they ever able to make him interrupt his devotion. According to the measure of his great affection and tenderness for God, he was favored by him with the abundance of his spiritual comforts and graces. Many times being in prayer he fell into raptures; often on the road as he travelled, he was visited by our Lord with a ravishing inexpressible sweetness, with which his soul was quite overwhelmed; and he usually made those that went with him to go before, both for the sake of closer recollection, and to conceal the visits and favors of the Lord. Because he humbled himself, and his heart was disengaged from the love of all creatures, God exalted him above others. He illuminated the understanding of his servant with a light and wisdom that is not taught in books, but comes down from heaven, and he infused into him an uncommon knowledge of the holy scriptures, and of the ineffable mysteries of our divine religion. He moreover gave him the spirit of prophecy; for St. Francis foretold many things which happened a long time after. He was endowed with an extraordinary gift of tears. His eyes seemed two fountains of tears, which were almost continually falling from them, insomuch that at length he almost lost his sight. When physicians advised him to repress his tears, for otherwise he would be quite blind, the saint answered: “Brother physician, the spirit has not received the benefit of light for the flesh, but the flesh for the spirit: we ought not for the love of that sight which is common to us and flies, to put an impediment to spiritual sight and celestial comfort.” When the physician prescribed that, in order to drain off the humors by an issue, he should be burnt with a hot iron,* the saint was very well pleased, because it was a painful operation, and a wholesome remedy. When the surgeon was about to apply the searing-iron, the saint spoke to the fire, saying: “Brother fire, I beseech thee to burn me gently, that I may be able to endure thee.” He was seared very deep, from the ear to the eye-brow, but seemed to feel no pain at all.

Whatever he did, or wherever he was, his soul was always raised to heaven, and he seemed continually to dwell with the angels. He consulted God before every thing he did, and he taught his brethren to set a high value upon, and by humility, self-denial, and assiduous recollection, to endeavor to obtain, the most perfect spirit of prayer, which is the source of all spiritual blessings, and without which a soul can do very little good. The practice of mental prayer was the favorite exercise which he strongly recommended. Persons who labored under any interior weight of sadness, or spiritual dryness, he vehemently exhorted to have recourse to fervent prayer, and to keep themselves as much as possible in the presence of their heavenly Father, till he should restore to them the joy of salvation. Otherwise, said he, a disposition of sadness, which comes from Babylon, that is, from the world, will gain ground, and produce a great rust in the affections of the soul, while she neglects to cleanse them by tears, or a spiritual desire of them. After extraordinary visits of the Holy Ghost, the saint taught men to say: “It is you, O Lord, who by your gracious goodness, have vouchsafed to give this consolation to me a sinner, most unworthy of your mercy. To you I commend this favor, that you preserve its fruit in my heart; for I tremble lest by my wretchedness I should rob you of your own gift and treasure.” He was accustomed to recite our Lord’s prayer very slowly, with singular gust in each petition, and in every word. The doxology, Glory be to the Father, &c., was a beloved aspiration of this saint, who would repeat it often together at work, and at other times, with extraordinary devotion, and he advised others to use the same. A certain lay-brother once asking him leave to study, the saint said to him: “Repeat assiduously the doxology, Glory be to the Father, &c., and you will become very learned in the eyes of God.” The brother readily obeyed, and became a very spiritual man. St. Francis sometimes cried out in the fervor of his love: “Grant, O Lord, that the sweet violence of thy most ardent love may disengage and separate me from every thing that is under heaven, and entirely consume me, that I may die for the love of thy infinite love. This I beg my thyself, O Son of God, who diedst for love of me. My God, and my All! who art thou, O sweetest Lord? and who am I, thy servant, and a base worm? I desire to love thee, most holy Lord. I have consecrated to thee my soul and my body with all that I am. Did I know what to do more perfectly to glorify Thee, this I would most ardently do. Yes: this I most ardently desire to accomplish, O my God.” St. Francis sometimes expressed his pious breathings in Canticles. St. Teresa writes:4 “I know a person who, without being a poet, has sometimes composed, upon the spot, stanzas of very exact metre, on spiritual subjects, expressing the pain which her soul felt in certain transports of divine love, and the joy with which she was overwhelmed in this sweet pain.” Several among the sacred writers, under the influence of the divine inspiration, delivered the heavenly oracles in verse. St. Francis, in raptures of love, poured forth the affections of his soul, and of the divine praises sometimes in animated verse. Two such canticles composed by him* are still extant, and express with wonderful strength and sublimity of thought, the vehemence and tenderness of divine love in his breast, in which he found no other comfort than, could it be gratified, to die of love, that he might be forever united to the great object of his love. His thirst of the conversion of souls was most ardent. He used to say, that for this, example has much greater force than words and that those preachers are truly to be deplored, who, in their sermons, preach themselves rather than Christ, seeking their own reputation more than the salvation of souls; and much more those who pull down, by their wicked and slothful lives, what they build by their good doctrine. He prayed and wept continually for the conversion of sinners with extraordinary fervor, and recommended to his religious to do the same, saying that many sinners are converted and saved by the prayers and tears of others; and that even simple laymen, who do not preach, ought not to neglect employing this means of obtaining the divine mercy in favor of infidels and sinners. So great was the compassion and charity of this holy man for all such, that, not contenting himself with all that he did and suffered for that end in Italy, he resolved to go to preach to the Mahometans and other infidels, with an extreme desire of laying down his life for our Lord. With this view he embarked, in the sixth year after his conversion, for Syria, but straight there arose a tempest, which drove him upon the coast of Dalmatia; and finding no convenience to pass on further, he was forced to return back again to Ancona. Afterwards, in 1214, he set out for Morocco, to preach to the famous Mahometan king Miramolin, and went on his way with so great fervor, and desire of martyrdom, that though he was very weak and much spent, his companion was not able to hold pace with him. But it pleased God that in Spain he was detained by a grievous fit of sickness, and afterwards by important business of his order, and various accidents, so that he could not possibly go into Mauritania. But he wrought several miracles in Spain, and founded there some convents; after which he returned through Languedoc into Italy.

It will be related below how, in the thirteenth year after his conversion, he passed into Syria and Egypt. In the mean time, upon motives of the same zeal, he labored strenuously to advance the glory of God among Christians, especially in his own order. With incredible pains he ran over many towns and villages, instructing and exhorting all persons to tin: divine love. He often said to his brethren, especially in his last sickness: “Let us begin to serve the Lord our God; for hitherto we have made very little progress.” No man in this life ever arrived at perfection; and that Christian has climbed the highest toward it who labors the most strenuously, and with the most sincere humility to advance higher. St. Francis, preaching penance to all the world, used often to repeat the following words, with inimitable fervor and energy: “My love is crucified,” meaning that Christ is crucified, and we ought to crucify our flesh. The holy founder out of humility gave to his order the name of Friars Minors, desiring that his brethren should be disposed, in the a affection of sincere humility, to strive, not for the first, but for the last and lowest places. Many cities became suitors that they might be so happy as to possess some of his disciples animated with his, spirit, and St. Francis founded convents at Cortona, Arezzo, Vergoreta, Pisa, Bologna, Florence, and other places; and in less than three years his order was multiplied to sixty monasteries. In 1212 he gave his habit to St. Clare, who, under his direction, founded the institute of holy virgins, which was called the second order of St. Francis. He took upon himself the care of her monastery at St. Damian’s in Assisium, but would never consent that his friars should serve any other nunnery of this or any other order, in which resolution he persisted to his death; though cardinal Hugolin, the protector of his order, was not so scrupulous in that particular. The founder carried his precaution and severity so far, in imitation of many ancient saints, the better to secure in his religious a perfect purity of heart, which a defect in any small circumstance may sometimes tarnish. All familiar or unnecessary conversation is certainly to be cut off in such stations, and by the strictest watchfulness all dangerous sparks are to be prevented. To give his brethren to understand this, when, by the authority of the protector, one of them had visited a nunnery, St. Francis ordered him to plunge into the river, and afterwards to walk two miles in his wet clothes. This spirit was inherited by that holy disciple and priest whom the founder had sent with some others into Spain, and in whose favor the princess Sancia, sister to Alfonsus II., then king of Portugal, had given her own house to Alenquer for a convent. A lady of honor, belonging to the court of that princess, desired to speak to the holy man in the church about the affairs of her conscience, and when he refused to come, burst into tears and cries almost of despair. The holy priest, therefore, went to her, but carried in one hand a wisp of straw, and in the other a burning torch, with which he set the straw on fire as soon as he came into her presence, saying: “Though your conversation be on piety and devotion, if it be frequent, a religious man ought to dread lest it should have on his heart the same effect this fire produced in the straw. At least he will by in the fruit of conversing with God in prayer.” Notwithstanding the reluctancy of the holy founder, several houses of the Poor Clares found means to procure, through powerful mediations, directors out of this order, to be allowed them, especially after the death of St. Francis. St. Dominic being at Rome in 1215, met there St. Francis, and these two eminent servants of God honored each other, had frequent spiritual conferences together, and cemented a close friendship between their orders, which they desired to render perpetual, as we are informed by contemporary writers of the life of St. Dominic: some say that St. Dominic assisted at St. Francis’s chapter of Matts and some others; but this is not supported by ancient vouchers, and is denied by the most judicious Dominican historians.

Ten years after the first institution of his order, in 1219, St. Francis held near the Portiuncula, the famous general chapter called of Matts, because it was assembled in booths in the fields, being too numerous to be received in any building of the country. We are assured by four companions of St. Francis, and by St. Bonaventure, that five thousand friars met there, though some remained at home who could not leave their convents. In this chapter several of the brethren prayed St. Francis to obtain for them of the pope a license to preach everywhere without the leave of the bishops of each diocese. The saint, shocked at the proposal, answered: “What, my brethren! do not you know the will of God? It is that by our humility and respect we gain the superiors, that we may by words and example draw the people to God. When the bishops see that you live holily, and attempt nothing against their authority, they will themselves entreat you to labor for the salvation of the souls committed to their charge. Let it be your singular privilege to have no privilege which may puff up the hearts of any with pride or raise contests and quarrels.” St. Francis had sent some of his friars into Germany in 1216, where they met with small success. Afterwards from this chapter he commissioned some to go into Greece, others into Africa, others into France, Spain, and England, to all whom he gave zealous instructions. He reserved for himself the mission of Syria and Egypt, in hopes of receiving there the crown of martyrdom; but the affairs of his order obliged him to defer his departure for some time.

The orders of St. Francis and St. Dominic had been approved by word of mouth, by Innocent III., who died in 1219, having sat eighteen years.* Honorius III., who succeeded him, confirmed that of St. Dominic by two bulls dated the 22d of December, 1216. St. Francis obtained of this pope an approbation of his missions; and in 1219 set sail with B. Illuminatus of Reate, and other companions, from Ancona; and having touched at Cyprus landed at Acon, or Ptolemais, in Palestine. The Christian army in the sixth crusade lay at that time before Damiata in Egypt, and the soldan of Damascus, or Syria, led a numerous army to the assistance of Meledin, soldan of Egypt, or Babylon; for so he was more commonly called, because he resided at Babylon in Egypt, a city on the Nile, opposite to the ruins of Memphis; Grand Cairo rose out of the ashes of this Babylon. St. Francis with brother Illuminatus hastened to the Christian army, and upon his arrival endeavored to dissuade them from giving the enemy battle, foretelling their defeat as we are assured by three of his companions; also by St. Bonaventure,5 cardinal James of Vitri, who was then present in the army,6 and Marin Sanut.7 He was not heard, and the Christians were driven back into their trenches with the loss of six thousand men. However, they continued the siege, and took the city on the 5th of November the same year. In the mean time St. Francis, burning with zeal for the conversion of the Saracens, desired to pass to their camp, fearing no dangers for Christ. He was seized by the scouts of the infidels, to whom he cried out, “I am a Christian conduct mo to your master.” Being brought before the soldan, and asked by him his errand, he said, with wonderful intrepidity and fervor, “I am sent, not by men, but by the most high God, to show you and your people the way of salvation, by announcing to you the truth of the gospel.” The soldan appeared to be moved, and invited him to stay with him. The man of God replied, “If you and your people will listen to the word of God, I will with joy stay with you. If yet you waver between Christ and Mahomet, cause a great fire to be kindled, and I will go into it with your Imams (or priests) that you may see which is the true faith.” The soldan answered, that he did not believe any of their priests would be willing to go into the fire, or to suffer torments for their religion, and that he could not accept his condition for fear of a sedition. He offered him many presents, which the saint refused. After some days the soldan, apprehending lest some should be converted by his discourse, and desert to the Christians, sent him, escorted by a strong guard, to their camp before Damiata, saying to him privately, “Pray for me, that God may make known to me the true religion, and conduct me to it.” The soldan became from that time very favorable to the Christians, and according to some authors was baptized a little before his death.

St. Francis returned by Palestine into Italy, where he heard with joy that the five missionaries whom he had sent to preach to the Moors, had been crowned with martyrdom in Morocc0.8 But he had the affliction to find that Elias, whom he had left vicar-general of his order, had introduced several novelties and mitigations, and wore himself a habit of finer stuff than the rest, with a longer capuche or hood, and longer sleeves. St. Francis called such innovators bastard children of his order, and deposed Elias from his office. Resigning the generalship that year, 1220, he caused the virtuous Peter of Cortona to be chosen minister-general, and after his death, in 1221, Elias to be restored.* But Peter, and after him Elias, out of respect for the saint, were only styled vicars-general till his death, who, by the sure weight of his authority, continued always to direct the government of his order so long as he lived. In 1223 he obtained of pope Honorius III. the confirmation of the famous indulgence granted a little time before to the church Portiuncula.† His order, as has been mentioned, was verbally bally approved by Innocent III. in 1210; a like approbation was given it in 1215, by the fourth Lateran council, to which St. Francis repaired for that purpose, as F. Helyot mentions, though this does not appear in the acts of that council, because it was no more than a verbal declaration. The founder, therefore, revised his rule, which breathed throughout the most profound humility, and an entire renunciation of the world, and presented it to pope Honorius III., who confirmed it by a bull dated the 29th of November 1221.* On which occasion the saint preached extempore, at the suggestion of the dean of the cardinals, before the pope and the consistory of cardinals, with great dignity and energy, so as to move the whole audience to compunction.

When St. Francis returned from Spain, and laid aside the thoughts of his intended mission to Morocco in 1215, count Orlando of Catona bestowed on him a close agreeable solitude on mount Alverno, a part of the Apennines not very far from Camaldoli and Vale Umbrosa. This virtuous count built there a convent and a church for the Friar Minors, and St. Francis was much delighted with the retirement of that high mountain. The solitude of the valley of Fabriano also pleased him much, and he frequently hid himself there. The raptures and other extraordinary favors which he received from God in contemplation, he was careful to conceal from men. St. Bonaventure and other writers of his life assure us, that he was frequently raised from the ground at prayer. F. Leo, his secretary and confessor, testified, that he had seen him in prayer sometimes raised above the ground so high, that this disciple could only touch his feet, which he held and watered with his tears; and that sometimes he saw him raised much higher.9 Towards the festival of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin, in 1224, St. Francis retired into a most secret place in mount Alverno, where his companions made him a little cell.* He kept Leo with him, but forbade any other person to come to him before the feast of St. Michael; it was then the Lent which he kept before the feast of that archangel, and he desired to devote himself in it entirely to the delights of heavenly contemplation. He ordered Leo to bring him a little bread and water every evening, and lay it at the entry of his cell; “And when you shall come to matins,” said he, “do not come in, only say, Domine, labia mea aperies. If I answer, Et os meum annunciabit laudum tuam, you shall come in; otherwise you will go away again.” The pious disciple was very punctual in obeying; but was often obliged to go back again, the saint being in raptures, as he did not doubt; and once when he did not answer, he saw him lying prostrate on the ground, encompassed with a bright light, and heard him often repeat these words: “Who are you, O my God, and my most sweet Lord? And who am I, a base worm, and your most unworthy servant?” The saint afterward told Leo, that nothing gave him so perfect a knowledge and sense of his own nothingness as the contemplation of the abyss of the divine perfections; for nothing so much improves the knowledge of ourselves as the clear knowledge of God’s infinite greatness and goodness, and his spotless purity and sanctity. Heavenly visions and communications of the Holy Ghost were familiar to our saint; but in this retreat on mount Alverno, in 1224, he was favored with extraordinary raptures, and inflamed with burning desires of heaven in a new and unusual manner. Then it was that this saint deserved, by his humility, and his ardent love of his crucified Saviour, to be honored with the extraordinary favor of the marks of his five wounds imprinted on his body by the vision of a seraph.

About the feast of the Exaltation of the Cross, on the 15th day of September, Francis being in prayer on the side of the mountain, raised himself towards God with the seraphic ardor of his desires, and was transported by a tender and affective compassion of charity into him, who, out of love, was crucified for us. In this state he saw, as it were, a seraph, with six shining wings blazing with fire, bearing down from the highest part of the heavens towards him, with a most rapid flight; and placing himself in the an near the saint. There appeared between his wings the figure of a man crucified, with his hands and feet stretched out, and fastened to the cross. The wings of the seraph were so placed, that two he stretched above his head, two others he extended to fly, and with the other two he covered his whole body. At this sight, Francis was extremely surprised; a sudden joy, mingled with sorrow, filled his heart. The familiar presence of his Lord under the figure of a seraph, who fixed on him his eyes in the most gracious and tender manner, gave him an excessive joy; but the sorrowful sight of his crucifixion pierced his soul with a sword of compassion. At the same time he understood by an interior light, that though the state of crucifixion no way agreed with that of the immortality of the seraph, this wonderful vision was manifested to him, that he might understand he was not to be transformed into a resemblance with Jesus Christ crucified by the martyrdom of the flesh, but in his heart, and by the fire of his love. After a secret and intimate conversation, the vision disappearing, his soul remained interiorly inflamed with a seraphic ardor, and his body appeared exteriorly to have received the image of the crucifix, as if his flesh, like soft wax, had received the mark of a seal impressed upon it. For the marks of nails began to appear in his hands and feet, resembling those he had seen in the vision of the man crucified. His hands and feet seemed bored through in the middle with four wounds, and these holes appeared to be pierced with nails of hard flesh; the heads were round and black, and were seen in the palms of his hands, and in his feet in the upper part of the instep. The points were long, and appeared beyond the skin on the other side, and were turned back as if they had been clenched with a hammer. There was also in his right side a red wound, as if made by the piercing of a lance; and this often threw out blood, which stained the tunic and drawers of the saint. This relation is taken from St. Bonaventure, who (chap. 13) calls the wound of the side a scar; but means not a scar covered, but a wound left visible and open; for he calls it (chap. 14) a wound, and a hole in his side; and such he again describes it as seen after the saint’s death, (chap. 15.) The circumstance of its often bleeding confirms the same; which does not agree to a wound that is healed and covered, or to a callous scar raised after the healing of a wound, as Baillet, with many other mistakes, pretends this to have been.10 This wonderful miracle was performed while the saint’s understanding was filled with the strongest ideas of Christ crucified, and his love employed in the utmost strength of his will in entertaining its affections on that great object, and assimilating them to his beloved in that suffering state; so that in the imaginative faculty of his soul he seemed to form a second crucifix, with which impression it acted upon, and strongly affected the body. To produce the exterior marks of the wounds in the flesh, which the interior love of his burning heart was not able to do, the fiery seraph, or rather Christ himself, in that vision (by darting bright piercing rays from his wounds represented in the vision) really formed them exteriorly in him; which love had interiorly imprinted in his soul, as St. Francis of Sales explains it.11

St. Francis endeavored nothing more than to conceal this singular favor of heaven from the eyes of men; and for this purpose he ever after covered his hands with his habit, and wore shoes and the feet of stockings on his feet.* Yet, having first asked the advice of brother Illuminatus and others, by their counsel, he, with fear, disclosed to them this wonderful vision, but added, that several things had been manifested to him in it, which he never would discover to any one; secrets, says St. Bonaventure, which perhaps could not be expressed by words, or which men, who are not supernaturally enlightened, are not capable of understanding. Notwithstanding the precautions of the saint, these miraculous wounds were seen by several during the two years which he survived, from 1224 to 1226, and by great multitudes after his death. The account of them the vicar-general of his order published in a circular letter addressed to all his brethren, immediately after St. Francis’s death; the original copy of which was seen by Wadding. Luke of Tuy, bishop of that city in Spain, published his work against the Albigenses in 1231, in which12 he tells us, that he went to Assisium the year after the saint’s death, and that this vision was attested to him by many religious men and seculars, clergymen and laymen, who had seen these nails of flesh in the saint’s hands and feet, and the wound in his side, and with their hands had felt them; he infers from them that Christ was fastened on the cross with four nails, and that it was his right side which was opened with the lance. He confirms this wonderful miracle from the life of the saint, written by F. Thomas de Celano, a disciple and companion of the saint, by the order of pope Gregory IX.,13 from which work St. Bonaventure took his relation. When some in Bohemia called it in question, pope Gregory IX. rebuked them by a bull in 1237, attesting the truth of those miraculous wounds upon his own certain knowledge, and that of his cardinals. The same he affirms in two letters recited by Wadding and Chalippe; and says, these wounds, after his death, were publicly shown to every one. Pope Alexander IV., in a sermon to the people in 1254, declared that he had been himself an eye-witness of those wounds in the body of the saint while he was yet living. St. Bonaventure, who with other friars was present at this discourse, heard this authentic declaration made by his holiness. That pope assures the same in a bull in 1255, addressed to the whole church.14 St. Bonaventure, who wrote his life in 1261, and who had lived long with the most familiar disciples of the servant of God, says, that while the saint was alive, many of his brethren and several cardinals saw the marks of the nails in his hands and feet; some also, by secret artifices, found the means to see and feel the wound in his side. After his death, every one openly saw it and the other four wounds. Fifty friars, St. Clare and all her sisters, and an innumerable multitude of seculars, saw and kissed them; and some, for greater certainty, touched them with their hands. St. Bonaventure relates many miracles, and a vision of St. Francis to pope Gregory IX., by which the truth of these miraculous wounds was confirmed. In honor of this miracle, and to excite in the hearts of the faithful a more ardent love of our crucified Saviour, and devotion to his sacred passion, pope Benedict XI., in 1304, instituted a festival and office in memory of them; which were extended to the whole church by Sixtus IV., in 1475, Sixtus V., and Paul V., in 1615, the 17th of September being the day chosen for this annual commemoration.* The ancient church of St. Francis on mount Alverno, with another new one more spacious, and a large convent, are places of great devotion on account of this miracle, and enjoy great privileges by the grants of several popes and emperors.15

It appears manifest that this wonderful favor was in part a recompense of the great love which St. Francis bore to the cross of Christ. From the beginning of his conversion his heart was so inflamed with this divine love, that the sufferings of his Saviour almost continually filled his thoughts, in which meditation, sighs and tears frequently expressed the sentiments of his soul. It was to render himself more perfectly conformed to his crucified Jesus, that he with great fervor stripped himself of every thing, made of his body a victim of penance, and thrice sought an opportunity of giving his life for Christ by martyrdom. This adorable object was all his science, all his glory, all his joy, all his comfort in this world. To sooth the sharp pains of a violent distemper, he was one day desired to let some one read a book to him; but he answered: “Nothing gives me so much delight as to think on the life and passion of our Lord; I continually employ my mind on this object, and were I to live to the end of the world, I should stand in need of no other books.” In the school of his crucified Lord he learned so vehement a love of holy poverty, that meeting one day a beggar almost naked he with sighs said to his companion, “Here is a poor man, whose condition is a reproach to us. We have chosen poverty to be our riches, yet in it he outdoes us.” He called poverty his lady, his queen, his mother, and his spouse, and earnestly begged it of God as his portion and privilege. “O Jesus,” said he, “who was pleased to embrace extreme poverty, the grace I beg of you is, that you bestow on me the privilege of poverty. It is my most ardent desire to be enriched with this treasure. This I ask for me and mine, that for the glory of thy holy name we never possess any thing under heaven, and receive our subsistence itself from the charity of others, and be in this also very sparing and moderate.” He extended his rule of poverty to what is interior and spiritual, fearing lest any one among his friars should regard his science as his own property and fund, for so it feeds self-love, and produces inordinate complacency in itself, and secret attachments, very contrary to that entire disengagement of the heart which opens it to the divine grace. The saint indeed exhorted those that were best qualified, to apply themselves to sacred studies; but always with this caution, that they still spent more time in prayer, and studied not so much how to speak to others, as how to preach to themselves, and how to practise virtue. Studies which feed vanity rather than piety he abhorred, because they utterly extinguish charity and devotion, and drain and puff up the heart. Humiliations, reproaches, and sufferings, he called the true gain, and the most perfect joy of a religious man, especially a friar minor, who, according to this saint, ought to be not so much in name, as in spirit, the lowest among men.

St. Francis came down from mount Alverno, bearing in his flesh the marks of the sacred wounds, and more inflamed than ever with the seraphic ardors of divine charity. The two years that he survived his heavenly vision, seemed a martyrdom of love. He was moreover much afflicted in them with sickness, weakness, and pains in his eyes. In this suffering state he used often to repeat, that the most rigorous appointments of Providence are often the most tender effects of the divine mercy in our favor. In 1225, his distemper growing dangerous, cardinal Hugolin and the vicar-general Elias obliged him to put himself in the hands of the most able surgeons and physicians of Rieti, wherein he complied with great simplicity. In his sickness he scarce allowed himself any intermission from prayer, and would not check his tears, though the physician thought it necessary for the preservation of his sight, which he entirely lost upon his death-bed. Under violent pains, when another exhorted him to beg of God to mitigate them, notwithstanding his extreme weakness, he arose, and falling on the ground, and kissing it, prayed as follows: “O Lord, I return thee thanks for the pains which I suffer; I pray that thou add to them a hundred times more, if such be thy holy will. I shall rejoice that thou art pleased to afflict me without sparing my carcass here; for what sweeter comfort can I have, than that thy holy will be done!” He foretold his death long before it happened, both to several of his brethren, and in a letter which he dictated on Sunday, the 28th of September, to a pious lady of Rome, his great friend. The saint earnestly requested that he might be buried at the common place of execution, among the bodies of the malefactors, on a hill then without the walls of the town of Assisium, called Colle d’Inferno.* St. Francis, a little before his death, dictated his testament to his religious brethren, in which he recommends to them, that they always honor the priests and pastors of the church as their masters, that they faithfully observe their rule, and that they work with their hands, not out of a desire of gain, but for the sake of good example, and to avoid idleness. “If we receive nothing for our work,” says he, “let us have recourse to the table of the Lord, the begging alms from door to door.” He orders, that they who do not know how to work, learn some trade. Pope Nicholas III. declared, that this precept of manual labor does not regard those who are in holy orders, and are employed in preaching, and in other spiritual functions, which is clear from the rule itself, the example of St. Francis, and the apology written by St. Bonaventure. Having finished his testament, the saint desired a spiritual song of thanksgiving to God for all his creatures, which he had composed, to be sung. Then he insisted upon being laid on the ground, and covered with an old habit, which the guardian gave him. In this posture he exhorted his brethren to the love of God, holy poverty, and patience, and gave his last blessing to all his disciples, the absent as well as those that were present, in the following words: “Farewell, my children: remain always in the fear of the Lord. That temptation and tribulation which is to come, is now at hand; and happy shall they be who shall persevere in the good they have begun. I hasten to go to our Lord, to whose grace I recommend you.” He then caused the history of the passion of our Lord in the gospel of St. John to be read; after which he began to recite the hundred forty-first psalm; I have cried with my voice to the Lord, &c. Having repeated the last verse: Bring my soul out of prison, that I may praise thy name: the just wait for me till thou reward me; he yielded up his soul on the 4th of October, in the year 1226, the twentieth after his conversion, and the forty-fifth of his age, as de Calano assures us. Great multitudes flocked to see and kiss the prints of the sacred wounds in his flesh, which were openly shown to all persons. A certain learned man of rank, named Jerom, doubted of the reality of these miraculous wounds till he had touched and examined them with his hands, and moved the nails of flesh backwards and forwards; by which he was so evidently convinced, that he confirmed by a solemn oath his attestation of them, as St. Bonaventure mentions. The next morning, which was Sunday, the saint’s body was carried with a numerous and pompous procession from the convent of the Portiuncula to Assisium. The procession stopped at St. Damian’s, where St. Clare and her nuns had the comfort of kissing the marks of the wounds in his flesh. St. Clare attempted to take out one of the nails of flesh, but could not, though the black head was protuberan above the palm of the hand, and she easily thrust it up and down, and dipped a linen cloth in the blood which issued out. The body was carried thence, and buried at St. George’s. Pope Honorius III. dying in 1227, cardinal Hugolin was chosen pope the same year, and took the name of Gregory IX. Two years after the saint’s death, this pope went to Assisium, and after a rigorous examination and solemn approbation of several miraculous cures wrought through the merits of St. Francis, he performed the ceremony of his canonization in the church of St. George, on the 16th of July, 1228, and commanded his office to be kept in 1229. His holiness gave a sum of money for building a new church on the place which he would have called from that time Colle del Paradiso. Elias, the general, by contributions and exactions, much increased the sum, and raised a most magnificent pile, which was finished in 1230, and that year the body of the saint was translated thither, on the 25th of May. Pope Gregory IX. came again to Assisium in 1235. But the ceremony of the dedication of this church was not performed by him, as some mistake, but by pope Innocent IV. in 1253 when he passed the summer in this convent, as is related at length by Nicolas de Curbio, a Franciscan, that pope’s confessarius and sacristan, in his life.16 Pope Benedict XIV., in 1754, by a prolix most honorable bull, confirms the most ample privileges granted to this church by former popes, and declares it a patriarchal church and a papal chapel with apostolic Penitentiaries.17 The body of the saint still lies in this church, and it is said under a sumptuous chapel of marble, curiously wrought, standing in the middle of this spacious church, which is dedicated in honor of St. Francis. In the sacristy, among many other relics, was shown, in 1745, some of the writings of St. Francis, and also of St. Bonaventure. Over this church is a second, adorned with rich paintings, dedicated in honor of the twelve apostles. We are told there is a third subterraneous church under it, like that under St. Peter’s on the Vatican-hill, made in vaults; but that of St. Francis is not open. The body of St. Francis has never been discovered or visited since the time of Gregory IX., and was concealed in some secret vault for the better securing so precious a treasure.18 In this patriarchal convent the general of the Conventual Franciscans resides.*

Who can consider the wonderful examples of St. Francis, and not cry out with our divine Redeemer, I confess to thee, eternal Father, Lord, and king of heaven and earth, because thou hast hidden these things from the wise and the prudent, and hast revealed them to the little ones. Thus it is, O Father; because it is pleasing in thy eyes.19 Thou resistest the proud, and hast dismissed them empty; but thou givest grace to the humble, taking pleasure to communicate thyself to those that are simple of heart, thy little ones, whose hearts are disengaged from earthly things. Thou art truly a hidden God, who dwellest in inaccessible light, unknown to the world; but thou impartest thyself abundantly and lovingly to those who, having purified their souls from the spots of earthly filth and attachments, express and show forth in their hearts and bodies Jesus Christ crucified. Yes, Father, so it hath pleased Thee. This interior crucifixion of the heart, this perfect simplicity and disengagement of the affections, consists not in the exterior renunciation of the world, (which is indeed often a help to it, or its effect,) but in the spirit, and is compatible with the state and employments of every lawful condition in the world, as many saints have shown, who, on thrones, in courts, or armies, learned to die to the world and themselves, used the things of this world as stewards only, and as if they used them not, living as strangers and pilgrims on earth.

OCTOBER 4 — SS. MARCUS, MARCIAN, AND THEIR COMPANIONS MARTYRS

The fourth edict of Dioclesian produced in the years 304 and 305 a frightful slaughter of Christians in Egypt, particularly in Thebais. Eusebius says, that after suffering scourges, tearing with iron hooks, disjointing of limbs, and many unheard-of torments; some were beheaded, others thrown into the sea, others burned, many crucified, several nailed to crosses with their heads downwards, and great numbers were hung on gibbets in all parts of Egypt. Marcus and Marcian are named among these holy champions; in ancient Martyrologies they are called brothers. The same historian describes the cruelties of which he was an eye-witness, being then in Thebais. The usual torments there exercised on the Christians were to tear the bodies with iron hooks and potsherds, to hang them up naked with their heads downwards, &c. Many were hung by their legs on two thick boughs of trees drawn together, which being let go, their bodies were torn asunder. Some of these barbarous executions were continued for years together, and sometimes ten, twenty, sixty, or a hundred, suffered in one day in the same place. Eusebius saw the executioners wearied, and their swords or other instruments blunted or shivered to pieces with their butcheries, yet the Christians still courting racks and death at their hands. Some of these martyrs were persons eminent for their birth, reputation, or learning and skill in philosophy. See Eus. Hist.1. 8, c. 8, 9: Fleury,1. 8, n. 32.

OCTOBER 4 — SAINT PETRONIUS, BISHOP OF BOLOGNA, C

He was son to Petronius, prefect of the prtorium, a person famous for his eloquence. Our saint inured himself from his infancy, while he lived in his father’s house, to all the exercises of a severe ascetic life. Being arrived at man’s estate, he travelled into the East, and visited the deserts of Palestine and Egypt, in order to improve himself in the sciences of true Christian perfection by the example and instructions of the great saints who inhabited them. For this purpose, he made a considerable stay with the most famous among them, such as St. John of Lycopolis, St. Apollo, St. Ammon, &c. We have an account of the edifying circumstances which he collected in this journey in the second book of the Lives of the Fathers, which Gennadius ascribes to him; and Erasmus, Gesner, Goldast, and Baronius, to Evagrius of Pontus; but which was certainly compiled from the relation of our saint by Rufinus, as Fontanini demonstrates1 from the express testimony of St. Jerom,2 and many circumstances mentioned in the work itself. St. Eucherius mentions that, lately. St. Hilary of Arles, and St. Petronius, then living in Italy, had passed from the highest state of worldly pomp to the service of the church.3 St. Petronius despised the study of eloquence and profane literature; notwithstanding which, upon his return into Italy, when he arrived at Rome in 430, he was chosen bishop of Bologna by pope Celestine, St. Felix, bishop of that see, being dead on the 4th of December.4 He who had performed his tedious journey through the eastern wildernesses barefoot, joining to its fatigues the most austere penitential austerities, and who had brought home not a dissipated mind, but an improved spirit of compunction and devotion, because he had made prayer and mortification his constant companions, would be far from remitting any thing of those exercises when raised to the pastoral dignity in the church. He, on the contrary, redoubled his assiduity and fervor in them, being sensible that the sanctification of his own soul, and that of his flock, had a mutual dependence on each other. Bologna had been thrice plundered a little before, namely, by Radagaisus, a pagan Goth, slain near Rome, and twice by Alaric, the Arian Goth. St. Petronius purged it of the remains of Arianism, and repaired the ruins of the city, and especially the churches St. Zama, the first bishop appointed by pope Dionysius in 270, had founded the cathedral called the Domo, of which St. Peter was titular. It was demolished in the persecution of Dioclesian, but soon after rebuilt. After the persecution of Julian the Apostate, the church of St. Peter having been removed by St. Fustinian, it was afterwards re-established by our saint under the title of SS. Nabor and Felix, and is at present in the hands of the Poor Clares. Sigonius and the learned pope Benedict XIV. reckon the following churches founded at Bologna by St. Petronius: of St. Stephen, (adjoining to St. Peter’s,) upon the model of the church of the Holy Cross and of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem; those of St. Thecla, St. Agatha, St. Lucy, St. Bartholomew, St. John Evangelist, St. Mark, St. Martin, &c. He enriched the city with the relics of many saints, particularly those of the holy martyr St. Florian, who seems to have received his crown under Dioclesian; his relics were brought from Vicenza, and deposited by St. Petronius in the church of St. Stephen. He is honored as patron of the city.5 The Roman Martyrology mentions him on this day.* See Rufin.,1. 2, de Vitis Patr.; Gennad. de Vir. Ill., c. 41; Ceillier, t. 14, p. 299; Fontanini, Hist. Liter. Aquileiens, p. 361,1. 5, c. 12; Tillem. t. 15, p. 35; Bened. XIV. de Festis SS.; Bonon. Bue the Bollandist, pp. 422 ad 470.

OCTOBER 4 — ST. AMMON, HERMIT FOUNDER OF THE HERMITAGES OF NITRA

This great saint was born in Egypt of a rich and noble family. At the age of twenty-two years his tutors and trustees obliged him to marry, in the year 308; but, on the day of his marriage, he read to his wife what St. Paul has written in commendation of the holy state of virginity, by which she was easily persuaded to consent to their making a mutual vow of perpetual continence. They lived together eighteen years under the same roof in perfect continency; and he was so severe in his mortifications as to have gradually inured and prepared his body to bear the austerity of long fasts. For having spent the day in hard labor in tilling a large garden in which he planted and cultivated balsamum, a shrub about two cubits high, which distils balsam and produces an apple, some time ago more famous in medicine than at present, (the tree is cultivated like a vine, and produces its fruit in the third year,) at evening he supped with his wife on herbs or fruits, and immediately retired to prayer, in which exercise he passed a great part of the night. When his uncle and other friends who opposed his retreat were dead, he retired to mount Nitria with his wife’s consent. She assembled and governed in her house a society of religious women, who, in the exercises of a penitential and ascetic life, vied with the most fervent anchorets in the deserts, as is related by Rufin and others. St. Ammon first inhabited this desert; which Cassian places five miles from the city Nitria. In the close of the fourth century, Cassian reckoned fifty monasteries on mount Nitria, inhabited by five thousand hermits. St. Ammon’s first disciples lived dispersed in separate cells, till the great St. Antony advised him to found a monastery, and to assemble the greatest part of them under the inspection of an attentive superior. That great patriarch of monks made choice himself of the place for erecting this monastery, by setting up a cross.1 If St. Antony sometimes visited St. Ammon, our saint often repaired to St. Antony on mount Troicus, where he then kept his cell. St. Ammon lived in great austerity, when he first retired into the desert, taking only a refreshment of bread and water once a day. This he afterwards extended to two, and sometimes to three or even four days. The desert of cells into which St. Ammon extended his hermitages, was ten or twelve miles distant from mount Nitria, though one continued wilderness.* St. Ammon wrought many miracles. That which follows seemed to St. Athanasius to contain so important an instruction, as to deserve to be inserted in his life of St. Anthony, where he has recorded it. The authors of the histories of the Fathers of the desert, and of the life of St. Ammon also mention it. One day, as he was going to cross a river called Lycus, when the banks were overflowed, in company with Theodorus his disciple, he desired him to withdraw, that they might not be seen naked in swimming over. Ammon, though alone, stood pensive on the bank, being unwilling and ashamed, out of modesty, to strip himself, reflecting that he had never seen himself naked. God was pleased to recompense his virginal love of purity by a miracle, and while he stood thus, he found himself on a sudden transported to the other side of the river. Theodorus coming up, and seeing he was gone over without being wet, asked him how it came to pass, and pressed him so earnestly, that he confessed the miracle to him, making him first promise not to mention it to any one till after his death. St. Ammon, otherwise written Amun, died at the age of sixty-two years; and St. Antony, though at the distance of thirteen days’ journey from him, knew the exact time of his death, having seen his soul in a vision ascend to heaven. St. Ammon is honored on the 4th of October in many Greek Menologies. See Palladius, Rufin, Socrates. Sozomen, &c., in Rosweide; also Cotelier, Mon. Grc., t.1., p. 352; Cassian Collat 6, c. 1, &c.

OCTOBER 4 — ST. AUREA, V. ABBESS

When St. Eligius, by the liberality of king Dagobert, settled at Paris a nunnery of three hundred virgins, he appointed Aurea abbess of that numerous family. She walked before them in the exercises of religious perfection, and, in the thirty-fourth year of her abbatial dignity, being invited to glory by St. Eligius in a vision after his death, she exhorted her sisters to rejoice at the near prospect of their bliss, and died on the 4th of October in 666. With her one hundred and sixty of her nuns were swept off by the pestilence. Her nunnery was called St. Eligius’s and St. Aurea’s. As it stood within the city she could not be buried at it, and St. Eligius had built the church of St. Paul, then without the city, for a cemetery for her community. She was therefore interred at St. Paul’s, and some time after, her bones were taken up, and kept in a rich shrine in that church, till they were translated into her monastery. This nunnery being fallen to decay, it was united to the episcopal see of Paris in the twelfth century, and the bishop placed in it Benedictin monks. Four hundred years after, the first archbishop, John Francis de Gondi, settled in that church the Regular Clerks called Barnobites, in 1636. Her relics have been in some former ages in equal veneration at Paris with those of St. Genevieve. See the life of St. Eligius on the 1st of December, and the Roman and Paris Martyrologies. Also Felibien et Lobineau, Hist. de Paris.

OCTOBER 4 — ST. EDWIN, KING, M

The school of adversity prepared this prince for the greatest achievements, as necessity often makes men industrious, while affluence and prosperity ruin others by sloth and carelessness. Edwin way son of Alla, king of Deira; but at his father’s death was deprived of his kingdom by Ethelfred, king of the Bernicians, who united all the Northumbrians in one monarchy. Edwin fled to Redwald, king of the East-Angles, who, by threats and promises, was secretly brought to a resolution to deliver him into the hands of his enemy. The young prince was privately informed of his danger by a friend in the council, and as he sat very melancholy one night before the palace gate, a stranger promised him the restoration of his kingdom, and the chief sovereignty over the English, if he promised to do what should be taught him for his own life and salvation. Edwin readily made this promise, and the stranger, laying his hand upon his head, bade him remember that sign. In the mean time Redwald was diverted from his treacherous intention discomfited and slew Ethelfred, who was marching against him, on the east side of the little river Idle, in Nottinghamshire. By this victory Edwin was put in possession of the whole kingdom of the Northumbrians, which comprised all the north of England; and, in a short time, he became so formidable by the success of his arms, that he obliged all the other English kings, and also the Britons or Welsh, to acknowledge his superior power. He took to wife Edilburge, daughter to the late St. Ethelbert, the first Christian king of the English, and sister to Ealbald, then king of Kent. St. Paulinus received the episcopal consecration, and was sent to attend her. On Easter eve, in 626, the queen was delivered of a daughter; and, on Easter-day, an assassin named Eumer, sent by Quichelm, king of the West-Saxons, being admitted into the presence of king Edwin, attempted to stab him with a poisoned dagger, which he took from under his cloak. He gave a violent push at the king, and would have certainly killed him, if Lilla, his favorite and faithful minister, had not, for want of a buckler, interposed his own body, and so saved the king’s life with the loss of his own. The dagger wounded the king through the body of this officer. The ruffian was cut to pieces upon the spot, but first killed another of the courtiers. The king returned thanks to his gods for his preservation; but Paulinus told the king it was the effect of the prayers of his queen, and exhorted him to thank the true God for His merciful protection of his person, and for her safe delivery. The king seemed pleased with his discourse, and was prevailed upon to consent that his daughter that was just born should be consecrated to God. She was baptized with twelve others on Whitsunday, and called Eanfleda, being the first fruits of the kingdom of the Northumbrians. These things happened in the royal city upon the Derwent, says Bede; that is, near the city Derventius, mentioned by Antoninus, in his Itinerary of Britain; it is at present a village called Aldby, that is, Old Dwelling, near which are the ruins of an old castle, as Camden takes notice.

The king, moreover, promised Paulinus, that if God restored him his health, and made him victorious over those who had conspired so basely to take away his life, he would become himself a Christian. When his wound was healed, he assembled his army, marched against the king of the West Saxons, vanquished him in the field, and either slew or took prisoners all the authors of the wicked plot of his assassination. From this time he no more worshipped any idols, yet he deferred to accomplish his promise of receiving baptism. Pope Boniface sent him an exhortatory letter, with presents; and a silver looking-glass and an ivory comb to the queen Edilburge admonishing her to press him upon that subject. Edwin was willingly instructed in the faith, often meditated on it by himself, and consulted with the wisest among his great officers. Paulinus continued to exhort him, and to pray zealously for his conversion; at length, being informed, it is believed, by revelation, of the wonderful prediction made formerly to the king, and of his promise, he came to him, while he was thinking one day seriously upon his choice of religion, and, laying his hand upon his head, asked him if he remembered that sign? The king, trembling, would have thrown himself at his feet; but the bishop, raising him up, said, with an affectionate sweetness, “You see that God hath delivered you from your enemies; he moreover offers you his everlasting kingdom. Take care on your side to perform your promise, by receiving his faith, and keeping his commandments.” The king answered he would confer with his chief counsellors to engage them to do the same with him; to which the bishop consented. The king having assembled his nobles, asked their advice. Coifi, the high priest of the idols, spoke first, declaring that by experience it was manifest their gods had no power. Another person said, the short moment of this life is of no weight, if put in the balance with eternity. Then St. Paulinus harangued the assembly. Coifi applauded his discourse, and advised the king to command fire to be set to the temples and altars of their false gods. The king asked him who should first profane them. Coifi answered, that he himself, who had been the foremost in their worship, ought to do it for an example to others. Then he desired to be furnished with arms and a horse; for, according to their superstition, it was not lawful for the high priest to bear any arms, or to ride on a horse, but only on a mare. Being therefore mounted on the king’s own horse, with a sword by his side, and a spear in his hand, he rode to the temple, which he profaned by casting his spear into it. He then commanded those that accompanied him to pull it down, and burn it with the whole enclosure. This place, says Bede, is shown not far from York, to the east, beyond the Derwent, and is called Godmundingham, that is, Receptacle of Gods. It retains to this day the name of Godmanham; and near it is Wigton, that is, Town of Idols, as Camden mentions, in Yorkshire.

King Edwin was baptized at York on Easter-day, in the year of Christ 627, the eleventh of his reign. The ceremony was performed in the church of St. Peter which he had caused to be built of timber, through haste; but he afterwards began a large church of stone, in which this was enclosed, and which was finished by his successor, St. Oswald. St. Paulinus fixed his episcopal see at York, with the approbation of king Edwin, and continued to preach freely during the remaining six years of this prince’s reign. He baptized, among others, four sons, one daughter, and one grandson of the king’s; and both nobles and people flocked in crowds to be instructed, and to receive the holy sacrament of baptism. When the king and queen were at their country palace of Yeverin, in Glendale, among the Bernicians in Northumberland, the bishop was taken up thirty-six days together, from morning till night, in catechizing persons, and in baptizing them in the little river Glen. Oratories and baptisteries not being yet built, the people were baptized in rivers; which shows that baptism was then administered by immersion. When St. Paulinus was with the king in the country of the Deiri, he was wont to baptize in the river Swale, near Cataract, now the village Cattaric, which the tradition of that country confirms to this day say Mr. Drake, Mr. Smith, and Mr. Stevens. St. Edwin built a church in honor of St. Alban, from which a new town arose which was called Albansbury, and since Almondbury. The royal palace in that place was burnt by the pagans after the death of St. Edwin. His successors had their country palace in the territory of Loidis, or Leeds, where a town of that name was afterwards built.

King Edwin was equally zealous to practise himself, and to propagate on all sides the holy religion which he professed. The English nation generally received the faith with a fervor equal to that of the primitive Christians, and many among them became by their conversion quite another people, having no other views but those of another world, and no other thoughts but of the inestimable happiness which, by the divine mercy, they were possessed of, to improve which was their only study. Even kings, who find the greatest obstacles to virtue, and, while they command others at will, are often, of all men, the least masters of themselves, and the greatest slaves to their own passions,—these, I say, among the new converted English, often set their subjects the strongest examples of the powerful influence of grace, which is omnipotent in those who open their breasts to it. No sooner had they got sight of heaven and immortality, but earth appeared contemptible to them, and they trampled under their feet those crowns for which, a little before, they were ready to suffer every thing. Several exchanged their purple and sceptres for hair-cloth, their palaces for mean cells, their power and command for the humility of obedience. Others wore still their crowns, but looked on them with holy contempt; and regarded it as their chiefest glory to make Christ reign in the hearts of their subjects, and to impart to other nations the blessings they had received. In these zealous endeavors St. Edwin deserved for his recompense the glorious crown of martyrdom. Redwald, king of the East-Angles, had received baptism in the kingdom of Kent; but, being returned home, was seduced by his wife and other evil teachers, and joined together the worship of his ancient gods and that of Jesus Christ; erecting, Samaritan-like, two altars in the same temple, the one to Christ, and another, smaller, for the victims of devils. His son and successor, Earpwald, was prevailed upon by St. Edwin to embrace with his whole heart the faith of Christ; though, he being killed soon after, that nation relapsed into idolatry for three years, till Sigebert, returning from his exile in Gaul, restored the Christian religion. The English enjoyed so perfect tranquillity and security throughout the dominions of king Edwin, that this peace became proverbial among them; and it was affirmed that a woman with her new-born infant might safely travel from sea to sea. To the fountains on the highways the king had caused copper cups to be chained, which none durst remove or take away, so strictly were the laws observed.

This good king had reigned seventeen years over the English and Britons, of which he had spent the last six in the service of Christ, when God was pleased to visit him with afflictions in order to raise him to the glory of martyrdom. Penda, a prince of royal blood among the Mercians, a violent abettor of idolatry, revolted from his obedience, and got together an army of furious veteran soldiers, such as had first invaded Britain, and all that still adhered to their ancient superstitions. Penda fought to extirpate Christianity, and from this time reigned over the Mercians twenty-two years. In this first revolt he entered into a confederacy with Cadwallo, king of the Britons or Welsh, who was indeed a Christian, but ignorant of the principles of this holy religion, savage and barbarous in his manners, and so implacable an enemy to the English, as to seem rather a wild beast than a man; for in his violent rage utterly to destroy that people, with all that belonged to them, he paid no regard to churches or religion, and spared neither age not sex. King Edwin being the most powerful prince in the English Heptarchy, to whom all the rest paid a kind of obedience, the fury of this war was entirely bent against him, and he was killed in a great battle against these two princes, fought in Yorkshire, at a place now called Hatfield, originally Heavenfield, which name was given it on account of the great number of Christians there slain in this engagement. The body of St. Edwin was buried at Whitby, but his head in the porch of the church he had built at York. He is honored with the title of martyr in the Martyrology of Florus, and in all our English calendars. Speed, in his catalogue, mentions an old church in London, and another at Breve, in Somersetshire, of both which St. Edwin was the titular patron. His death happened in the year of Christ 633, of his age the forty-eighth. In what manner the Christian religion was restored in Northumberland is related in the life of St. Oswald, 5th Aug. On St. Edwin, see Bede, Hist.1. 2, c. 9, 10, 12, 15, 20; William of Malmesbury and Alford, who has inserted, ad ann. 632, the letter of pope Honorius to this holy king, which is also extant, together with his letter to Honorius, archbishop of Canterbury, in Bede, and Conc. t. 6. See the life of St. Paulinus, Oct. 10.

The relics of St. Ethelburge, wife of St. Edwin, were honored with those of St. Edburg at Liming monastery. Lel. Collect. t. 1, p. 10.

OCTOBER 4 — THE MARTYRS OF TRIERS

St. Paulinus, bishop of Triers, highly extolled by St. Athanasius, St. Hilary, and St. Jerom, suffered grievous persecutions under the Arian emperor Constantius, and was banished by him into Phrygia, where he died. A beautiful church bears his name out of the walls of Triers, served by a college of canons, and enriched with relics of many martyrs crowned under the president Rictius Varus and the emperor Maximian Herculeus. They are mentioned in the Acts of SS. Fucian and Victoricus in Bouquet, &c. See on them Brower, Bue the Bollandist, p. 329, &c. The incredible number of these martyrs is denied by Honthemius, Diss. de Martyr. Trevir.

OCTOBER 5 — ST. PLACIDUS, ABBOT, AND COMPANIONS, MM

From St. Greg. Dia1.1. 2, c. 3, 7, and Mabilion, Annal. Bened. t. 1, who shows the several acts of their martyrdom to be pieces of no authority, with all the instruments relative; which is confirmed at large by Bue the Bollandist, NAK 3 and 4.

A. D. 546.

THE reputation of the great sanctity of St. Benedict, while he lived at Sublaco, being spread abroad, the noblest families in Rome brought their children to him to be educated by him in his monastery. Equitius committed to his care, in 522, his son Maurus, then twelve years of age, and the patrician Tertullus his son Placidus, who was no more than seven. Philip of Macedon, recommending his son Alexander the Great to Aristotle, whom he had chosen for his preceptor, in his letter upon that subject gave thanks to his gods not so much for having given him a son, as for providing him with such a master for his education. With far more reason Tertullus rejoiced that he had found such a sanctuary, where his son, while his heart was yet untainted by the world, might happily escape its contagion. St. Gregory relates, that Placidus being fallen into the lake of Sublaco, as he was fetching some water in a pitcher, St. Benedict, who was in the monastery, immediately knew this accident, and, calling Maurus, said to him “Brother, run, make haste; the child is fallen into the water.” Maurus. having begged his blessing, ran to the lake, and walked upon the water above a bow-shot from the land to the place where Placidus was floating, and, taking hold of him by the hair, returned with the same speed. Being got to the land, and looking behind him, he saw he had walked upon the water, which he had not perceived till then. St. Benedict ascribed this miracle to the disciple’s obedience; but St. Maurus attributed it to the command and blessing of the abbot, maintaining that he could not work a miracle without knowing it. Placidus decided the dispute by saying, “When I was taken out of the water, I saw the abbot’s melotes upon my head, and himself helping me out.” The melotes was a sheep’s skin worn by monks upon their shoulders. We must observe that St. Placidus, being very young, had not yet received the monastic tonsure and habit. This miraculous corporal preservation of Placidus may be regarded as an emblem of the wonderful invisible preservation of his soul by divine grace from the spiritual shipwreck of sin. He advanced daily in holy wisdom, and in the perfect exercise of all virtues, so that his life seemed a true copy of that of his master and guide, the glorious St. Benedict; who, seeing the great progress which divine grace made in his tender heart, always loved him as one of the dearest among his spiritual children, and took him with him to Mount Cassino in 528. The senator Tertullus, principal founder of this monastery, made them a visit soon after their arrival there, saw with pleasure the rising virtue of his son Placidus, and bestowed on St. Benedict part of the estates which he possessed in that country, and others in Sicily. The holy patriarch founded another monastery upon these latter near Messina, a great city with a fine harbor, upon the straits which part Italy from Sicily. Of this new colony St. Placidus was made abbot. Dom. Rabache de Freville, the present sub-prior of St. Germain-des-Prez, in his manuscript life of St. Maurus, places the arrival of that saint at Angers in France, and the foundation of the abbey of Glanfeuil, in 543, the very year in which St. Benedict died. St. Placidus is supposed to have gone to Sicily in 541, a little before the holy patriarch’s death, being about twenty-six years of age. He there founded a monastery at Messina. The spirit of the monastic state being that of penance and holy retirement, the primitive founders of this holy institute were particularly watchful entirely to shut the world out of their monasteries, and to guard all the avenues through which it could break in upon their solitude. Its breath is always poisonous to those who are called to a life of retirement. Charity may call a monk abroad to serve his neighbor in spiritual functions; but that person only can safely venture upon this external employment who is dead to the world, and who studies to preserve in it interior solitude and recollection, having his invisible food and secret manna, and making it his delight to converse secretly in his heart with God, and to dwell in heaven. This spirit St. Placidus had learned from his great instructor, and the same he instilled into his religious brethren.* He had not lived many years in Sicily before a pagan barbarian, with a fleet of pirates from Africa rather than from Spain, then occupied by Arian Goths, not by pagans, landed in Sicily, and out of hatred of the Christian name, and the religious profession of these servants of God, put St. Placidus and his fellow-monks to the sword, and burnt their monastery about the year 546.

All true monks devote themselves to God; they separate themselves from the world, and do not entangle themselves in secular business, that they may more easily seek perfectly and with their whole hearts, not those things which are upon earth, but those which are in heaven. This is the duty of every Christian, as Origen elegantly observes,1 and as Saint Paul himself teaches,2 according to the divine lessons of our blessed Redeemer. For to be dead to the world, and to live to Christ, is the part of all who are truly his disciples. Those who live in the world must so behave as not to be of the world. They must be assiduously conversant in prayer and other exercises of religion. Their work itself must be sanctified and dedicated to God by the like motives with which the ancient monks applied themselves to penitential manual labor,3 or to external spiritual functions.

OCTOBER 5 — ST. GALLA, WIDOW

She was daughter to Symmachus the Younger, the great, the most learned and virtuous patrician of Rome, whom Theodoric unjustly and barbarously put to death.* From her cradle she gave herself fervently to the service of God, and being married very young, lost her husband before the end of the first year. She could have yet pleased the world, and was strongly solicited and courted by it, but her only desire in it was to please God alone; and trampling upon the world amidst its honors and riches, she considered herself as freed by her state of widowhood from its distractions. Out of devotion to the apostles she chose for her dwelling a little cottage or cell near their tombs on the Vatican hill, where she never interrupted her devotions but by other good works. The revenues of her great estates were made the patrimony of the poor; and, by her austerities, which reduced her body to a mere skeleton, she made herself a holocaust of penance. The prayers and spiritual instructions to the greatest saints and prelates who at that time adorned the western church, were a tribute to her piety and fervor; which, among other means of her sanctification, she sought with great earnestness. The pious letters which St. Fulgentius wrote to her from the place of his banishment, are extant among his works. After a train of tedious distempers, she was afflicted during the last years of her life with a cancer in her breast. She suffered extreme pains with incredible patience and resignation, and by them finished the martyrdom of her penance about the middle of the sixth age. See St. Gregory, Dia1.1. 4, c. 13; St. Fulgentius’s Letters, Baronius, Sirmond, &c.

OCTOBER 6 — ST. BRUNO, CONFESSOR FOUNDER OF THE CARTHUSIAN MONKS

From the short chronicle of the four first priors of the Chartreuse, compiled by Gulgo, the fifth prior, as it seems, whose eulogy is added in MSS. ap. Labb. Bibl. MSS. t.1, p. 638, and the Bollandists; from the larger chronicle, called Chronica de exordio Ordinis Carthusiensis, or Tr. de Narratione histori inchoation is et promotionis Ordinis Carthus, containing the history of the five first priors, written about the year 1250, according to F. Bye; from St. Bruno’s life by Fr. du Puitz, or Puteanus, general of the order, in 1508, printed at Basil in 1515; from his life, compiled by Guibert of Nogent, in 1101, and the life of St. Hugh of Grenoble, written by Guy, the fifth general of the Carthusians. See Mabillon, Annul. Bened. t. 5, p. 202; et Act. Ben. t. 9. Camillus Tutinus, in Ordinis Carth. histori prospectu; Columbius, Diss. de Carthusianorum initiis; Masson, the learned general of the order,1. 1, Annalium Carthus. Hercules Zanotti in Italica historia S. Brunonis, printed at Bologna in 1741. Continuators of the Hist. Littraire de la France, t. 9, p. 233. F. Longueval, Hist. de l’Eglise de France,1. 22, t. 8, p. 117. Bye the Bollandist, t. 3, Oct. pp. 491 to 777.

A. D. 1101.

THE most pious and learned cardinal Bona, one of the greatest lights not only of the Cistercian order, but of the whole church, speaking of the Carthusian monks, of whose institute St. Bruno was the founder, calls them “the great miracles of the world; men living in the flesh as out of the flesh; the angels of the earth, representing John the Baptist in the wilderness; the principal ornament of the church; eagles soaring up to heaven, whose state is justly preferred to the institutes of all other religious orders.”1 St. Bruno was descended of an ancient and honorable family, and born at Cologne, not after the middle of the eleventh century, as some mistake, but about the year 1030, as the sequel of his life demonstrates. In his infancy he seemed above the usual weaknesses of that age, and nothing childish ever appeared in his manners. His religious parents hoping to secure his virtue by a good education, placed him very young in the college of the clergy of St. Cunibert’s church, where he gave extraordinary proofs of his piety, capacity, and learning, insomuch that St. Anno, then bishop of Cologne, preferred him to a canonry in that church. He was yet young when he left Cologne, and went to Rheims for his greater improvement in his studies, moved probably by the reputation of the school kept by the clergy of that church.* Bruno was received by them with great marks of distinction. He took in the whole circle of the sciences; was a good poet for that age, but excelled chiefly in philosophy and theology, so that these titles of poet, philosopher, and divine, were given him by contemporary writers by way of eminence, and he was regarded as a great master and model of the schools. The historians of that age speak still with greater admiration of his singular piety.2 Heriman, canon and scholasticus of Rheims, resigning his dignities and renouncing the world to make the study of true wisdom his whole occupation, Gervasius, who was made archbishop of Rheims in 1056, made Bruno scholasticus, to which dignity then belonged the direction of the studies and all the great schools of the diocese. The prudence and extraordinary learning of the saint shone with great lustre in this station; in all his lessons and precepts he had chiefly in view to conduct men to God, and to make them know and respect his holy law. Many eminent scholars in philosophy and divinity did him honor by their proficiency and abilities, and carried his reputation into distant parts; among these Odo became afterwards cardinal bishop of Ostia, and at length pope, under the name of Urban II. Robert of Burgundy, bishop of Langres, brother to two dukes of Burgundy, and grandson to king Robert; Rangier, cardinal archbishop of Reggio, (after St. Bruno had refused that dignity,) and many other learned prelates and abbots of that age, mention it as a particular honor and happiness that they had been Bruno’s scholars. Such was his reputation that he was looked upon as the light of churches, the doctor of doctors, the glory of the two nations of Germany and France, the ornament of the age, the model of good men, and the mirror of the world, to use the expressions of an ancient writer. He taught a considerable time in the church of Rheims; and is said, by the author of his life, to have been a long time the support of that great diocese; by which expression he seems to have borne the weight of the spiritual government under the archbishop Gervasius. That prelate dying in 1067, Manasses I., by open simony, got possession of that metropolitical church and oppressed it with most tyrannical vexations and enormities. Bruno retained under him his authority and dignities, particularly that of chancellor of the diocese, in which office he signed with him the charter of the foundations of St. Martin aux Jumeaux, and some other deeds of donations to monasteries. Yet he vigorously opposed his criminal projects. Hugh of Die, the pope’s legate, summoned Manasses to appear at a council which he held at Autun, in 1077, and upon his refusing to obey the summons, declared him suspended from his functions. St. Bruno, Manasses the provost, and Poncius, a canon of Rheims, accused him in this council; in which affair our saint behaved with so much prudence and piety, that the legate, writing to the pope, exceedingly extolled his virtue and wisdom, styling him the most worthy doctor of the church of Rheims,3 and recommending him to his holiness as one excellently qualified to give him good counsel, and to assist him in the churches of France in promoting the cause of God. The simoniacal usurper, exasperated against the three canons who appeared in the council against him, caused their houses to be broken open and plundered, and sold their prebends. The persecuted canons took refuge in the castle of the count of Rouci, and remained there till August, 1078, as appears by a letter which the simoniacal archbishop at that time wrote against them to the pope.

Before this time St. Bruno had concerted the project of his retreat, of which he gives himself the following account in his letter to Raoul, or Ralph, provost of Rheims, to which dignity he was raised in 1077, upon the resignation of Manasses. St. Bruno, this Ralph, and another canon of Rheims, named Fulcius, in a conversation which they had one day together in one Adam’s garden, discoursed on the vanity and false pleasures of the world, and on the joys of eternal life, and being strongly affected with their serious reflections, promised one another to forsake the world. They deferred the execution of this engagement till Fulcius should return from Rome, whither he was going; and he being detained there, Ralph slackened in his resolution, and continuing at Rheims, was afterwards made archbishop of that see. But Bruno persevered in his resolution of embracing a state of religious retirement. Serious meditation increased in him daily his sense of the inestimable happiness of a glorious eternity, and his abhorrence of the world. Thus he forsook it in a time of the most flattering prosperity, when he enjoyed in it riches, honors, and the favor of men, and when the church of Rheims was ready to choose him archbishop in the room of Manasses, who had been then convicted of simony and deposed. He resigned his benefice, quitted his friends, and renounced whatever held him in the world, and persuaded some of his friends to accompany him into solitude, who were men of great endowments and virtue, and who abundantly made up the loss of his two first companions in this design; he seems first to have retired to Reciac, or Roe, a fortified town and castle on the Axona, or Aisne in Champagne, the seat of count Ebal, who had zealously joined St. Bruno and others in opposing the impiety of Manasses. After some time he went to Cologne, his native country; and some time after, was called back to his canonry at Rheims; but making there a very short stay, he repaired to Saisse-Fontaine, in the diocese of Langres, where he lived some time with some of his scholars and companions. Two of these, named Peter and Lambert, built there a church, which was afterwards united to the abbey of Molesme.

In this solitude, Brunc, with an earnest desire of aiming at true perfection in virtue, considered with himself, and deliberated with his companions what it was best for him to do, spending his time in the exercises of holy solitude, penance, and prayer. He addressed himself for advice to a monk of great experience and sanctity, that is, to St. Robert, abbot of Molesme, who exhorted him to apply to Hugh, bishop of Grenoble, who was truly a servant of God, and a person better qualified than any other to assist him in his design.4 St. Bruno followed this direction, being informed that in the diocese of Grenoble, there were woods, rocks, and deserts, most suitable to his desires of finding perfect solitude, and that this holy prelate would certainly favor his design. Six of those who had accompanied him in his retreat, attended him on this occasion, namely, Landwin, who afterwards succeeded him in the office of prior of the great Chartreuse; Stephen of Bourg, and Stephen of Die, both canons of St. Rufus in Dauphine; Hugh whom they called the chaplain, because he was the only priest among them, and two laymen, Andrew and Guerin. St. Bruno and these six companions arrived at Grenoble about midsummer in 1084, and cast themselves at the feet of St. Hugh, begging of him some place in his diocese, where they might serve God, remote from worldly affairs, and without being burdensome to men. The holy prelate understanding their errand, rejoiced exceedingly, and received them with open arms, not doubting but these seven strangers were represented to him in a vision he had the night before in his sleep; wherein he thought he saw God himself building a church in the desert of his diocese, called the Chartreuse, and seven stars rising from the ground, and forming a circle which went before him to that place, as it were, to show him the way to that church.5 He embraced them very lovingly, thinking he could never sufficiently commend their generous resolution; and assigned them that desert of Chartreuse for their retreat, promising his utmost assistance to establish them there; but to the end they might be armed against the difficulties they would meet with, lest they should enter upon so great an undertaking without having well considered it, he, at the same time, represented to them the dismal situation of that solitude, beset with very high craggy rocks, almost all the year covered with snow and thick fogs, which rendered them not habitable. This relation did not daunt the servants of God; on the contrary, joy, painted on their faces, expressed their satisfaction for having found so convenient a retirement, cut off from the society of men. St. Hugh having kept them some days in his palace, conducted them to this place, and made over to them all the right he had in that forest; and some time after, Siguin, abbot of Chaise-Dieu, in Auvergne who was joint lord of the same. Bruno and his companions immediately built an oratory there, and very small cells, at a little distance one from the other, like the ancient Lauras of Palestine. Such was the original of the order of the Carthusians, which took its name from this desert of Chartreuse.* Some have dated its institution in 1086, others in 1085; but it is clearly proved by Mabillon6 that St. Bruno retired to this wilderness in June, 1084, as one of his epitaphs, and Sigebert of Gemblours, a contemporary writer, expressly mention. St. Hugh, by a charter dated in the month following, forbade any woman to go into their lands, or any person to fish, hunt, or drive cattle that way. They first built a church on a summit, and cells near it, in which they lived two together in each cell, soon after single, meeting in church at matins and vespers, other hours, prime, tierce, sext, none, and compline, they recited in their cells. They never took two refections in a day except on the greatest festivals, on which they ate together in a refectory. On other days they ate in their cells as hermits. Pulse was given them in a certain measure on days when it was allowed them.

It is hard to represent the wonderful life of these holy anchorites in their desert. Guibert of Nogent7 says they passed the six days of the week in their separate cells, but spent the Sunday together. At parting, each took with him one loaf, and one kind of pulse for his subsistence the rest of the week. Every thing among them was extremely mean and poor: even in their church they would have no gold or silver, except a silver chalice. They scarce ever spoke to one another only by signs; for they obliged themselves to perpetual silence, that their whole conversation might be with God. They spent a considerable part of the day in reciting his praises, and seemed to have no other use of their bodies than to afflict and humble them with austerities. Labor succeeded prayer. It was their chief employ to copy pious books, by which they endeavored to earn their subsistence, that they might not be burdensome to any. Peter the Venerable, abbot of Cluni, fifty years after St. Bruno, writes of them: “Their dress is meaner and poorer than that of other monks; so short and scanty, and so rough, that the very sight affrights one. They wear coarse hair shirts next their skin, fast almost perpetually; eat only bran-bread; never touch flesh, either sick or well; never buy fish, but eat it if given them as an alms; eat eggs and cheese on Sundays and Thursdays; on Tuesdays and Saturdays their fare is pulse or herbs boiled; on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays they take nothing but bread and water; and they have only one meal a day, except within the octaves of Christmas, Easter, Whitsuntide, Epiphany, and some other festivals. Their constant occupation is praying, reading, and manual labor, which consists chiefly in transcribing books. They say the lesser hours of the divine office in their cells at the times when the bell rings; but meet together at vespers and matins with wonderful recollection. They say mass only on Sundays and festivals.”8 This manner of life they followed without any written rule; though Mabillon thinks they conformed to that of St. Benedict in most points which were compatible with their plan of an eremitical life.9 But others, with Bue the Bollandist, find no resemblance, and say the practices were peculiar to their institute without being borrowed from any other in particular. St. Bruno left his disciples fervent observers of those customs and practices which he had established among them. Guigo, or Guy, fifth prior of the Chartreuse, in 1228, drew up in writing an abstract of their customs.* Several general chapters have added new statutes; of which a complete code was compiled in 1581, and approved by Innocent XI., in 1688. This may be called the rule of the Carthusians. Voltaire copies this remark of Fleury, of the Maurist monks in the Literary History of France and others, that this is the only ancient religious order in the church which never had any reform, and has never stood in need of any, which is owing to their entire sequestration from commerce with the world, and to the extreme vigilance of superiors and visiters in never allowing a door to be opened for mitigations and dispensations to creep in. “The Carthusians,” says Voltaire, “entirely consecrate their time to fasting, to silence, to solitude, and prayer; perfectly quiet in the midst of a tumultuous world, the noise of which scarce ever reaches their ears; knowing their respective sovereigns no otherwise than by the prayers in which their names are inserted.” This institute has been regarded by the pastors of the church as the most perfect model of a penitential and contemplative state, in which persons devote themselves to the most perfect sanctification of their souls, and by their tears and prayers endeavor to draw down the divine mercy on sinners and on the whole world.*

St. Bruno is styled by the writers of that age Master of the Chartreuse, and sometimes prior; for being the person who led the rest into that course of life, he was looked upon by them as their superior; and as he was the most learned, so he also excelled them in the fervor of his charity, compunction, and humility. St. Hugh, who at first received him as his child, became so great an admirer of his virtue that he took him for his father and spiritual director; and without regard to the difficulty of the ways, he often went from Grenoble to the Chartreuse, to enjoy the heavenly conversation of St. Bruno, and improve himself by his advice and example. That holy prelate felt an inexpressible joy in his heart as often as he heard any new novice had joined these true disciples of the cross: a joy which was often renewed in him; for their example awaked many from their spiritual lethargy in the world, and persons of all ages, even young boys, ran to the desert to take up the cross of Christ in their company. The count of Nevers, a lord of singular piety, made a long stay with them to learn to serve God with new fervor, and returned praising God for the wonders which his right hand works in the hearts in which he dwells. He sent them soon after a rich present of plate, but they sent it back with excuses that it was useless to them. He then sent them a large quantity of leather and parchment for their books.

St. Bruno had not governed this congregation six years when pope Urban II., who had formerly been his scholar at Rheims, being informed of the holy life which he led, and being, from his own personal acquaintance, fully convinced of his great prudence and learning, sent him a severe order to repair to Rome, that he might assist him by his counsels in the government of the church. The humble monk could have scarce met with a more severe trial of his obedience, or made a greater sacrifice. Nevertheless, without further deliberation, he set out in 1089, having nominated Landuin prior at the Chartreuse. The pope himself at the same time had recommended that house to the protection of Siguin, abbot of Chaise-Dieu. The departure of the saint was an inexpressible grief to his disciples. They to whom the greatest austerities were pleasures, and the most hideous desert a paradise while they enjoyed the presence of such a guide and master, found their rocks insupportable without him. The saint endeavored in vain to comfort them, promising them he would do whatever lay in him to return to them as soon as possible. Several of them protested they would never be parted from him, and these he took with him to Rome. The rest, soon after he had quitted them, left the Chartreuse; but, as they continued to live together, they were soon prevailed upon by Landuin to return to their former habitations, of which the monks of Chaise-Dieu had taken possession upon their leaving it. St. Bruno was received by the pope with all imaginable tokens of esteem and affection. His holiness kept him in his palace near his person, and consulted him in all weighty affairs of religion and conscience. By his order also the saint’s companions had an apartment assigned them in the city, where they endeavored to live as they had done in the desert; but they soon found it was not so easy a matter there to devote themselves wholly to their holy meditations, pious reading, singing psalms, and fervent prayer, in which consisted all their satisfaction. They could not shun distracting visits, nor observe such silence as they had done among the rocks, and which was so useful to them. This alteration drew tears from their eyes, and made them sigh for the solitude they had quitted. They complained to St. Bruno that they found not in the city what they sought. The saint ardently desired to conduct them back to the mountain of the Chartreuse; but not being able to obtain that leave for himself, he prevailed that they might return to that desert, where the rest of their companions had already recovered the possession of their former cells, which were restored to them by the abbot of Chaise-Dieu to the great joy of St. Hugh, and of Hugh archbishop of Lyons, legate of the holy see, who both conducted them back, and saw them again settled there.

The tumult of a court grew every day more insupportable to St. Bruno, who had tasted the sweets of solitude and uninterrupted contemplation, and trembled amidst the distractions of the world. The pope had too great a value for such a friend to grant his request of returning to the Chartreuse; he even pressed him to accept the archbishopric of Rheggio in Calabria; but the holy man excused himself with so great earnestness, and redoubled his importunities for the liberty of living to himself in solitude, that his holiness at length thought he could no longer offer violence to his holy inclinations, and consented that he might retire into some wilderness in the mountains of Calabria. The saint found a convenient solitude in the diocese of Squillaci, where he settled in 1090, with some new disciples whom he had gained in Rome. Here he betook himself to the exercises of a solitary life with more joy and fervor than ever. Remembering the engagement which his ancient friend, Ralph, the provost of Rheims, had made to embrace a solitary life, he wrote him from this desert an elegant and tender letter, inviting him to his hermitage, putting him in mind of his promise and the obligation he had taken upon himself, and giving him an agreeable and cheerful description of his desert, and of uninterrupted scenes of pure joy and delights which he and his companions found in it. From the turn of this letter it sufficiently appears how far the saint was from the least disposition of melancholy, moroseness, or harsh severity. Gayety of soul, which always attends virtue, is particularly necessary in all who are called to a life of perfect solitude, in which nothing is more pernicious than sadness, and to which nothing is more contrary than an inclination to excessive pensiveness. Those who labor under that weakness, ought generally to be judged unfit for a state of strict perpetual solitude; for which great fervor, which allows no moments for sloth, is likewise an essential disposition. Landuin prior of the Chartreuse, went into Calabria to consult St. Bruno about the form of living which our saint had instituted at the Chartreuse; for those disciples were desirous not to depart in the least point from the spirit and rule of their holy master.10 St. Bruno wrote them an admirable letter, full of tender charity and the spirit of God, which he sent them by Landuin when he returned in 1099. In this letter he instructed them in all the practices of a solitary life, solved the difficulties which they proposed to him, comforted them in their afflictions, and encouraged them to perseverance and watchfulness against all the attacks of their enemies.11

The principal works of St. Bruno are Comments on the Psalter, and on St. Paul’s Epistles, both of which are demonstrated12 to be the genuine productions of our saint, and answer the character given of St. Bruno, that he was one of the most learned men, not only of the age in which he lived but of most others. He understood both the Hebrew and Greek languages, and was versed in the writings of the fathers, especially those of St. Ambrose and St. Austin. He is a strenuous advocate for the doctrine of St. Austin with regard to the mysteries of divine grace. In his Exposition of the Psalms he clears the literal sense, but always refers it to the spiritual, applying every thing to Christ and his church, as the sense principally meant by the Holy Ghost. A judicious modern critic writes thus of this work:13 “Whoever shall attentively read this Commentary, will agree that it would be hard to find a work of this kind which is at the same time more clear, solid, and full, and more concise. If it were better known it would be more made use of. Persons would be convinced that it is an excellent work to give the key for the true understanding of the Psalms, and that the author was master of all the sciences, and filled with the spirit of God. It were to be wished that this Commentary were put into the hands of all the faithful, especially of persons dedicated by their state to the duty of public prayer.” The elegy in fourteen verses, On the Contempt of the World, or on the last things, which was composed by St. Bruno, is engraved under the picture of the saint in the choir of the famous Chartreuse of Dijon. It is a feeling complaint of the general insensibility of men in thinking so little on a happy and a miserable eternity, and is inserted in several Latin prayer books. Several other comments on the scripture, and other writings, have been ascribed to this saint, but belong some to St. Bruno, bishop of Segni, others to St. Bruno, bishop of Wurtzbourg, who both flourished in the same age.*

St. Bruno being settled in his desert in the diocese of Squillaci, had no thoughts but of living unknown to men; but, as retired as he was, he had not been long in this new hermitage, when Roger, sovereign count of Sicily and Calabria, discovered him one day as he was hunting in that wood. The prince having conversed with him, was so much moved by his virtue, that he was extremely desirous to testify his esteem for him by some remarkable favors; but a love of poverty, and a spirit of disinterestedness would not permit the holy man to take advantage of his generosity in accepting any rich presents. The monastery De la Torre in Calabria, was the second of the order.† St. Bruno established in it the most perfect spirit of humility, contempt of the world, retirement, and mortification, and continued by his counsels and instructions at a distance, to direct the monks of the Great Chartreuse in all spiritual and temporal emergencies. The time being come when God had decreed to reward the labors of his servant, he visited him with a sickness about the latter end of September, 1101. When the holy man perceived his death to draw near, he gathered his monks about his bed, and in their presence, made, as it were, a public confession of his life; then made a profession of his faith, which his disciples copied from his mouth, and preserved. It is very clear and explicit on the mysteries of the Trinity and Incarnation, and in condemning the heresy of Berengarius, which had lately raised great troubles in the church. The holy man thus expressed his faith of the sacrament of the altar: “I believe the sacraments which the church believeth, and in particular that the bread and wine consecrated on the altar are the true body of our Lord Jesus Christ; his true flesh, and his true blood, which we receive for the remission of our sins, and in the hope of eternal life.”14 He had more fully explained this doctrine of the church against Berengarius, in his comments on St. Pau1.15 He resigned his soul to God on Sunday the 6th of October, 1101. An account of his death was sent by his monks of La Torre in an encyclical letter to all the neighboring churches and monasteries, according to the custom, to recommend the souls of persons deceased to their prayers.16 Near two hundred answers to this letter are extant, and contain the highest eulogiums of the extraordinary virtue, wisdom, and learning, of St. Brun0.17 Lanuin, a disciple of our saint in Calabria, succeeded him in the government of the monastery De la Torre, and was highly esteemed by pope Paschal II. Fleury is mistaken,18 in confounding this Lanuin with Landuin of Lucca, whom St. Bruno left prior of the Great Chartreuse, and who was succeeded by Peter, a native of Bethune in Flanders, who had been the saint’s disciple at Saisse Fontaine, with Lambert, who was prior at De la Torre after the death of Lanuin.* St. Bruno was interred in the cemetery of the church of the blessed Virgin de Torre; said by some to have been translated to that of St. Stephen; but improbably; for they were discovered in the former place in 1515. Pope Leo X. had granted in the preceding year an office in his honor to his order; which is called an equipollent beatification, his eminent sanctity and many miracles after his death not standing in need of the formalities of a scrutiny. In 1623, Gregory XV., by an equipollent canonization extended his office to the whole church. A bone of his jaw with two teeth was sent to the Great Chartreuse; a finger to the Chartreuse at Paris; and little portions to the Chartreuses of Cologne, his native city, and Friburg.

The motto of St. Bruno are these words of the Psalmist:19 My eyes prevented the watches: I was troubled, and I spoke not. I had in my mind the eternal years. Lo! I have gone far off, flying away, and I abode in the wilderness.20 This constant meditation on eternity often broke his rest, and made sleep to flee from his eyes; this animated him with fervor in his retirement, and perpetual penance, and made him watch whole nights in sighs and tears to implore the divine mercy. In this solitude his employment was sometimes to pour forth his soul in songs of praise, and to entertain himself on the sweet motives of the divine love; sometimes the remembrance of eternal joys comforted his soul, and gave him already a kind of foretaste of them; and he often considered the terrors of the divine judgments, and the eternal torments prepared for sinners, being strongly affected with the dread of that which is of all others the most grievous, the pain of loss, or the everlasting privation of God. In a feeling meditation on this subject, he puts the following words in the mouth of a damned soul: “Add new tortures to the racks which I endure; may a million of fresh executioners tear me for all eternity, provided I be not totally deprived of my God. The most piercing flames will be to me soft roses; the fury of devils agreeable embraces; the horrible shrieks of those dungeons a pleasant harmony; these frightful prisons delightful palaces, could I but be freed from what I feel by the loss of God.”21

OCTOBER 6 — SAINT FAITH OR FIDES, V., AND COMPANIONS, MM

Among those Christians whose invincible constancy triumphed over the malice of Dacian, prefect of Gaul under Dioclesian and Maximian, none was more illustrious than St. Faith. She was born at Agen in Aquitaine, and, though of exquisite beauty, was insensible to all the allurements of the world. When she was apprehended and brought before Dacian, making the sign of the cross on different parts of her body, she uttered this prayer: “Lord Jesus, who art always ready to assist your servants, fortify me at this hour, and enable me to answer in a manner worthy of you.” The tyrant, assuming an air of mildness, asked her, “What is your name?” she answered: “My name is Faith, and I endeavor to support in reality what that name signifies.” DACIAN—“What is your religion?” FAITH—“I have from my infancy served Christ, and to him I have consecrated my whole soul.” DACIAN—“Come, child, have some regard for your youth and beauty; renounce the religion you profess, and sacrifice to Diana, who is a divinity of your own sex, and who will bestow on you the most precious gifts.” FAITH—“The divinities of the Gentiles are devils: how then can you advise me to sacrifice to them?” Dacian, in a rage, said: “What! do you presume to call our gods devils! you must resolve instantly to offer sacrifice, or expire under torments.” The saint, calling to mind the courage of the martyrs and the glorious crown promised to those who persevere to the end, far from being terrified at the menaces of the tyrant, feels herself inflamed with a new desire to die for her Lord; “No,” cried she, “I not only am prepared to suffer every torment for Christ, but I burn with impatience to die for him.” Dacian, more enraged than ever, ordered a brazen bed to be produced, and the saint to be bound on it with iron chains. A great fire was kindled under it, the heat of which was rendered still more intolerable by the addition of oil, and other inflammable matter. The spectators, struck with pity and horror, exclaimed: “How can the tyrant thus torment an innocent young virgin only for worshipping God!” Hereupon Dacian apprehended numbers of them, and as these refused to sacrifice, they were beheaded with St. Faith. See the genuine acts of the saint, which are very short. Surius and Labbe give other acts which are longer, but in these there are interpolations, and an account of miracles not sufficiently warranted. See also the commentaries of F. Ghesquier, one of the continuators of Bollandus, 6 Oct. t. 3, p. 263.*

St. Dulcitius, bishop of Agen, about the middle of the fifth century, deposited the relics of St. Faith in a church which he built at Agen, and translated those of her companions, and St. Caprais, to another church in that city. The history of this translation, which seems to have been written by an eye-witness, may be seen in the acts of St. Faith, published by Surius and Labbe. The place where the bodies of these holy martyrs were concealed for fear of the persecutors, is still held in veneration. About the year 886, the relics of St. Vincent of Agen, martyr, and of St. Faith, were removed to the abbey of Conques in Rouergue, and thence to the new church of that abbey in 1050: a portion of those of St. Faith was given by pope Urban V. to the monks of Cucufat in Catalonia, in 1365, and an arm of the saint was formerly kept at Glastenbury. St. Faith is titular saint of several churches in France, particularly that of Longueville in Normandy, which was enriched by Walter Giffard, earl of Buckingham in England. She was also patroness of the priory of Horsham in the county of Norfolk, founded by Robert Fitzwalter and his wife Sybila, and endowed with great privileges by Henry I. The subterraneous chapel of St. Faith, built under St. Paul’s in London, was also very famous, as Dugdale remarks in his history of this church.

Good example is one of the strongest incentives to virtue. Wo to us, if we harden our hearts against the salutary impressions which the heroic virtue and examples of so many saints ought to make upon us. The companions of the martyrdom of St. Faith, fired by seeing the glorious conflict and trophies of the holy virgin, arrive themselves at an equal crown. And can we read the lives of so many illustrious saints, without reproaching ourselves for our base ingratitude to God, and repeated abuse of divine grace, and without aspiring to an imitation of their zeal, devotion, charity, humility, compunction, and fervor?

OCTOBER 7 — ST. MARK, POPE, C

See the Pontifical published by Anastasius ap. Muratori inter Italiarum Rerum Scriptores, t. 3, p. 112; also Baron. ad an. 336; Bosius and Aringhi,1. 2, c. 15.

A. D. 336.

ST. MARK was by birth a Roman, and served God with such fervor among the clergy of that church, that, advancing continually in severe humility and the knowledge and sense of his own weakness and imperfections, he strove every day to surpass himself in the fervor of his charity and zeal, and in the exercise of all virtues. The persecution ceased in the West upon the abdication of Dioclesian and Maximian, in the beginning of the year 305; but was revived for a short time by Maxentius in 312. St. Mark abated nothing of his watchfulness, but endeavored rather to redouble his zeal during the peace of the church; knowing that if men sometimes cease openly to persecute the faithful, the devil never allows them any truce, and his snares are generally most to be feared in the time of a calm. The saint contributed very much to advance the service of God during the pontificate of St. Sylvester; after whose demise he was himself placed in the apostolic chair on the 18th of January, 336. He held that dignity only eight months and twenty days, dying on the 7th of October following. According to the Pontifical published by Anastasius, he built two churches, one on the Ardeatine Way, where he was afterwards buried; another within the walls, near the capitol. He was interred in the Ardeatine Way, in the cemetery of Balbina, a holy martyr buried there. It was originally called of Prtextatus, probably from some illustrious person of that name, and was situate without the Ardeatine gate, not far from the cemetery of Calixtus, on the Appian Way. St. Mark had very much beautified and adorned this burial-place, out of respect to the martyrs there interred; and he being buried there, it from that time bore his name. Pope Damasus, in his epitaph, extols his extraordinary disinterestedness and contempt of all earthly things, and his remarkable spirit of prayer, by which he drew down on the people abundant spiritual blessings. His name occurs in the Liberian Calendar, compiled soon alter his death, and in all other Martyrologies of the Western church. A church bore his name in Home in the fifth century. His remains were translated into it by the order of Gregory VII. The pontificals mention that the church was repaired by Adrian I., Gregory IV., and Paul II. This last pope built near it a palace, which was the summer residence of the popes till Sixtus V. preferred the Quirinal hill, or Monte Cavallo.

It was by constant watchfulness over themselves, by assiduous self-denial, and humble prayer, that all the saints triumphed over their spiritual enemies. They never laid down their arms. A Christian ought to be afraid of no enemy more than himself, whom he carries always about with him, and whom he is not able to flee from. He therefore never ceases to cry out to God: Who will preserve me from falling through myself! Not my own strength. Unless thou, O Lord, art my light and support, I watch in vain.

OCTOBER 7 — SS. SERGIUS AND BACCHUS, MM

These two glorious martyrs are mentioned with great distinction by Theodoret, John Mosch in the Spiritual Meadow, Evagrius, St. Gregory of Tours, Bede, and other ancient Martyrologists. They were illustrious officers in the army, and suffered with great constancy cruel torments and a glorious death under Maximian: the theatre of their triumph was Rasaphe in Syria, in the diocese of Hierapolis. Their tomb at Rasaphe was famous for miracles in the year 431,1 when Alexander, bishop of Hierapolis, built there a stately church in their honor. Out of respect for their relics, Justinian caused this town to be fortified, called it Sergiopolis, and made it the metropolis of the province. He also built many churches in their honor in several provinces of the East. They are the titular saints of a church in Rome, which has been famous at least ever since the seventh century, as appears from Anastasius; nevertheless, no authentic acts of their martyrdom have reached us. Two other churches in Rome Lear their name: one called ad montes belongs to the Russian college, and possesses a portion of their relics brought from Syria in the crusades: as does the cathedral of St. Vitus at Prague, by the gift of the emperor Charles IV., in 1354. See Tillemont, t. 5, p. 491.

OCTOBER 7 — SS. MARCELLUS AND APULEIUS, MM., AT ROME

Famous in ancient Martyrologies, honored with a mass in pope Gelasius’s Sacramentary published by cardinal Thomasius. The emperor Lewis II. in 872, received their relics from the pope, which his wife Angilberga bestowed on the nunnery which she founded at Placentia in Italy, in which city these martyrs are honored with singular devotion.

OCTOBER 7 — ST. JUSTINA OF PADUA, V. M

She suffered at Padua in the persecution of Dioclesian, about the year 304, or, according to some, in that of Nero. Fortunatus ranks her among the most illustrious holy virgins, whose sanctity and triumph have adorned and edified the church, saying that her name makes Padua illustrious, as Euphemia Chalcedon, and Eulalia the city Emerita. And in his poem on the life of St. Martin, he bids those who visit Padua, there to kiss the sacred sepulchre of the blessed Justina, on the walls of which they will see the actions of St. Martin represented in figures or paintings.1 A church was built at Padua, in her honor, about the middle of the fifth age, by Opilio, prefect of the prtorium, who was consul in 453.2 Her precious remains, concealed in the irruptions of Attila, who destroyed Aquileia and Padua in the middle of the fifth century, were found in 1177, and are kept with great veneration in the famous church which bears her name. It was most elegantly and sumptuously rebuilt in 1501, and, with the adjoining Benedictin monastery, (to which it belongs,) is one of the most finished models of building of that nature in the world. A reformation of the Benedictin order was settled in this house in 1417, which was propagated in many parts of Italy under the name of the Congregation of St. Justina of Padua. The great monastery of Mount Cassino, head of the whole order of St. Bennet, having acceded to this reformed Congregation, it was made the chief house thereof by pope Julius II., and the jurisdiction of president, or general, was transferred by him from St. Justina’s to the abbot of Mount Cassino; from which time this is called the Congregation of Mount Cassino, and is divided into seven provinces. The great monastery of St. Justina may be said to be the second in rank. St. Justina is, after St. Mark, the second patroness of the commonwealth of Venice, and her image is stamped on the coin. Near the tomb of St. Justina, in the cemetery, were found the relics of several other martyrs, who are said in her acts and those of St. Prosdecimus, first bishop of Padua, and other such monuments, to have suffered with her. The relics of St. Justina were placed in a shrine or chest under the high altar of the new church, in 1502. When the new choir was built these were translated with the utmost solemnity into a sumptuous vault under the new high altar, in 1627. Another famous church of St. Justina stands in the city of Venice, formerly collegiate, now in the hands of nuns. The senate makes to it the most solemn procession on the 7th of October, in thanksgiving for the victory of Lepante, gained over the Turks on that day, which is her festival. See Tillemont, Hist. de la Persec. de Diocles. art. 55. t. 5. p. 140. Helyot, &c.

OCTOBER 7 — ST. OSITH, V

She was born at Quarendon, and was daughter of Frewald, a Mercian prince, and niece to Editha, to whom belonged the town and manor of Ailesbury, where she was brought up with her pious aunt. Osith was married young to a king of the East-Angles; but the same day obtained his consent to live always a virgin. That king confirming her in her religious purpose, bestowed on her the manor of Chick, in which she built a monastery. She had governed this house many years with great sanctity, when she was crowned with martyrdom in the inroads of Hinguar and Hubba, the barbarous Danish leaders, being beheaded for her constancy in her faith and virtue, about the year 870; for fear of the Danish pirates, her body, after some time, was removed to Ailesbury. and remained there forty-six years; after which it was brought back to Chick, or Chich, in Essex, near Colchester which place was for some time called St. Osithe’s, as Camden takes notice. A great abbey of regular canons was erected here under her invocation, which continued to the dissolution, famous for the relics, and honored with many miracles. See Tanner’s Notitia Monastica, in folio; William of Malmesbury,1. 2, de Pontific.; and principally her life by Vere, a canon of St. Osithe’s, in Leland’s Itinerary, vol. 8, p. 41, and in Malbrancq, in MSS. suorum, t. 1, quoted by Ericus Pantoppidanus, in the life of St. Ositha, in his Gesta Danorum extra Daniam, Hafni, 1740, in 4to., t. 2, sect. 1, NAK 12, pp. 40, 41, 42. See also Alford, Annal. t. 1.

OCTOBER 8 — ST. BRIDGET, WIDOW

From the bull of her canonization published by Boniface IX. an. 1391: Bullar. t. 1, p. 297; Helyot, Hist. des Ord. Relig. t. 4, p. 25; Stevens, Monast. t. 2, p. 230; Godeau, Eloges des Princes et Princesses, p. 454; Messenius Scondi Illustrat, t. 9, p. 43, auct a Joan; Peringkioldo, fol. Stockholm, 1700; Vastovius in vita S. Brigittæ, cum notis Erici Benzelli in Vastovii Vitem Aquiloniam. An. 1708.

A. D. 1373.

ST. BIRGIT, more commonly called BRIDGET, or BRIGIT, was daughter of Birger, a prince of the royal blood of Sweden, legislator of Upland,* and of Ingeburgis, daughter to Sigridis a lady descended from the kings of the Goths. Both the parents spent their lives in fervent exercises of piety, and had a singular devotion to the sacred passion of Christ. Birger consecrated all Fridays in a special manner to practices of penance, and never failed on that day to confess his sins, and receive the holy eucharist, endeavoring to put himself into such a disposition as to be able to bear patiently all the crosses that might befall him till the next Friday. Ingeburgis was no less devoutly inclined, but died soon after the birth of our saint, which happened in the year 1304. Bridget was brought up by an aunt, who was a lady of singular piety. She did not begin to speak till she was three years old; and the first use she made of her tongue was to praise God: nor did she even in her childhood ever take pleasure in any discourse but what was serious. So strong and early was the grace of devotion with which God favored her, that from her cradle all her views and desires tended only to piety, and in its exercises she found her greatest delight. No symptoms ever appeared in her of anger, spite, envy, jealousy, untowardness, or disobedience. She assisted assiduously at the church office, and at sermons. At ten years of age she was most tenderly affected by a sermon which she heard on the passion of Christ; and the night following seemed to see him hanging upon his cross covered with wounds, and pouring forth his blood in streams in every part of his body; at the same time, she thought she heard him say to her: “Look upon me, my daughter.” “Alas,” said she, “who has treated you thus?” She seemed to herself to hear him answer: “They who despise me, and are insensible to my love for them.” The impression which this moving spectacle made upon her mind was never effaced; and from that time the sufferings of her Redeemer became the subject of her most assiduous meditation, even when she was at work at her needle, and she could scarce ever call them to mind without shedding abundance of tears. In obedience to her father, when she was only sixteen years of age, she married Ulpho, prince of Nericia in Sweden, who was himself only eighteen. This pious couple passed the first year after their marriage in continence, and having enrolled themselves in the third order of St. Francis, lived in their own house as if they had been in a regular and austere monastery. They afterwards had eight children, four boys and four girls, who were all favored with the blessings of divine grace. Benedict and Gudma dying in their infancy, left their parents secure of their happiness; Charles and Birger died in the holy war in Palestine; Margaret and Cecily served God faithfully in the married state; and Indeburga and Catharine became nuns. The last was born in 1336, and died in 1381. She is honored among the saints on the 22d of March.1 After the birth of these children, the parents, at the suggestion of St. Bridget, made a mutual vow of continency, and consecrated their estates more than ever to the use of the poor, whom they looked upon as their own family, and for whom they built an hospital, in which they served the sick with their own hands. Ulpho entered into the most perfect sentiments of virtue and penance, with which the example of his wife inspired him; and resigning his place in the king’s council, and renouncing the court, he imitated her in all her devotions. To break all worldly ties by forsaking their country and friends, they made a painful pilgrimage to Compostella. In their return Ulpho fell sick at Arras, where he lodged with his wife and eight children, first in the street of the Lombards; but afterwards in the city, at the house of a clergyman or canon of our Lady’s the cathedral, son of a nobleman named Bazentin, where, in the following century, Lewis XI. lodged in 1477. He received the viaticum and extreme unction from the hands of the bishop of Arras, Andrew Ghini, a native of Florence. Bridget spared neither solicitude, pains, nor prayers for his recovery, and received an assurance of it by a revelation. He was accordingly restored again to his health, and arrived in Sweden, where he died soon after, in 1344, in the odor of sanctity, in the monastery of Alvastre of the Cistercian order, which rule, according to some he had embraced, though others say that he was only preparing himself for that state.2 At least his name is inserted in the Menology of that order on the 12th of February.

Bridget being by his death entirely at liberty to pursue her inclinations as to the manner of life which she desired to lead, renounced the rank of princess which she held in the world, to take upon her more perfectly the state of a penitent. Her husband’s estates she divided among her children, according to the laws of justice and equity, and from that day seemed to forget what she had been in the world. She changed her habit, using no more linen except for a veil to cover her head, wearing a rough hair-shift, and for a girdle, cords full of knots. The austerities which she practised are incredible; on Fridays she redoubled her mortifications and other exercises, allowing herself no refection but a little bread and water. About the time of her husband’s death, in 1344, she built the great monastery of Wastein, in the diocese of Lincopen, in Sweden, in which she placed sixty nuns, and, in a separate enclosure, friars, to the number of thirteen priests, in honor of the twelve apostles and St. Paul; four deacons, representing the four doctors of the church, and eight lay-brothers. She prescribed them the rule of St. Austin, with certain particular constitutions, which are said to have been dictated to her by our Saviour in a vision: but this circumstance is neither mentioned by Boniface IX. in the bull of her canonization, nor by Martin V. in the confirmation of her order; and the popes, when they speak of this rule, mention only the approbation of the holy see, without making any inquiry about any such private revelation. The diocesan is the superior of all the monasteries of this order situated in his diocese; but no new convent can be founded but with an express license and confirmation of the pope. The chief object of the particular devotions prescribed by this rule are the passion of Christ, and the honor of his holy Mother. In this institute, as in the order of Fontevrault, the men are subject to the prioress of the nuns in temporals, but in spirituals the women are under the jurisdiction of the friars; the reason of which is, because the order being principally instituted for religious women, the men were chiefly admitted only to afford them such spiritual assistance as they want. The convents of the men and women are separated by an inviolable enclosure; but are contiguous so as to have the same church, in which the nuns keep choir above in a doxal, the men underneath in the church; but they can never see one another. The number of religious persons in each double monastery is fixed as above; but most of the great or double monasteries which were situated in the North, were destroyed at the change of religion, with that of Wastein, or Vatzen, which was the chief house of the order. There are two rich convents of nuns of this order at Genoa, into one of which only ladies of quality can be admitted. The greatest part of monasteries of Brigittins, or of the order of our Saviour, which now subsist, are single, and observe not the rule as to the number of religious, or the subjection of the friars to the nuns. There are still some double monasteries in Flanders, one at Dantzic, about ten in Germany, and some few others.*

St. Bridget had spent two years in her monastery at Wastein when she undertook a pilgrimage to Rome, in order to venerate the relics of so many saints which are honored in that city, and especially to offer up her fervent prayers at the tombs of the apostles. The example of her virtue shone forth with brighter lustre in that great city. The austerity of her watchings and penance, the tenderness of her devotion, her love of retirement, her fervor in visiting the churches, and in serving the sick in the hospitals, her severity towards herself, her mildness to all others, her profound humility, and her charity, appeared in all she did. Remarkable monuments of her devotion are still shown in the church of St. Paul and other places at Rome, and in its neighborhood; for the thirty last years of her life, she was accustomed to go every day to confession; and she communicated several times every week. The frequent use of the sacraments kindled every time fresh ardor in her soul. Nothing is more famous in the life of St. Bridget than the many revelations with which she was favored by God, chiefly concerning the sufferings of our blessed Saviour, and revolutions which were to happen in certain kingdoms. It is certain that God, who communicates himself to his servants many ways, with infinite condescension, and distributes his gifts with infinite wisdom, treated this great saint and certain others with special marks of his goodness, conversing frequently with them in a most familiar manner, as the devout Blosius observes. Sometimes he spoke to them in visions, at other times he discovered to them hidden things by supernatural illustrations of their understandings, or by representations raised in their imagination so clearly, that they could not be mistaken in them; but to distinguish the operations of the Holy Ghost, and the illusions of the enemy, requires great prudence and attention to the just criteria or rules for the discernment of spirits. Nor can any private revelations ever be of the same nature, or have the same weight and certainty with those that are public, which were made to the prophets to be by them promulgated to the church, and confirmed to men by the sanction of miracles and the authority of the church.

The learned divine John de Turre-cremat, afterwards cardinal, by order of the council of Basil, examined the book of St. Bridget’s revelations, and approved it as profitable for the instruction of the faithful; which approbation was admitted by the council as competent and sufficient. It however amounts to no more than a declaration that the doctrine contained in that book is conformable to the orthodox faith, and the revelations piously credible upon an historical probability. The learned cardinal Lambertini, afterwards pope Benedict XIV., writes upon this subject as follows:3 “The approbation of such revelations is no more than a permission, that, after a mature examination, they may be published for the profit of the faithful. Though an assent of Catholic faith be not due to them, they deserve a human assent according to the rules of prudence, by which they are probable and piously credible, as the revelations of B. Hildegardis, St. Bridget, and St. Catharine of Sienna.” What is most of all praiseworthy in St. Bridget is, that in true simplicity of heart, she always submitted her revelations to the judgment of the pastors of the church; and deeming herself unworthy even of the ordinary light of faith, she was far from ever glorying in any extraordinary favors, which she never desired, and on which she never employed her mind but in order to increase her love and humility.* If her revelations have rendered her name famous, it is by her heroic virtue and piety that it is venerable to the whole church. To live according to the spirit of the mysteries of religion, is something much greater and more sublime than to know hidden things, or to be favored with the most extraordinary visions. To have the science of angels without charity is to be only a tinkling cymbal; but both to have charity, and to speak the language of angels, was the happy privilege of St. Bridget. Her ardent love of Jesus Christ crucified moved her to make a painful pilgrimage to visit the holy places in Palestine, where she watered with her pious tears the chief places which Christ had sanctified by his divine steps, and purpled with his adorable blood. In her journey she visited the most renowned churches in Italy and Sicily, with a devotion that excited all who saw her to fervor. Being returned safe to Rome, she lived there a year longer, but during that interval was afflicted with grievous distempers, under which she suffered the most excruciating pains with an heroic patience and resignation. Having given her last moving instructions to her son Birger, and her daughter Catharine, who were with her, she was laid on sackcloth, received the last sacraments, and her soul, being released from its prison of clay, took its flight to that kingdom after which she had always most ardently sighed, on the 23d of July, 1373, being seventy-one years old. Her body was buried in the church of St. Laurence in Panis Perna, belonging to a convent of Poor Clares; but a year after her death, in July, 1374, it was translated to her monastery of Wastein in Sweden, by the procurement of her son Birger and St. Catharine. She was canonized by Boniface IX. in 1391, on the 7th of October, and her festival is appointed on the day following.4 At the petition of the clergy and nobility of Sweden the general council of Constance examined again the proofs, and unanimously declared her enrolled among the saints on the 1st of February, 1415.5 Her canonization was again confirmed by Martin V. in 1419.6

The life and sufferings of our divine Redeemer are the book of life, in which both souls which now begin to serve God, and those who have long exercised themselves in the most perfect practices of all heroic virtues, find the most powerful incentives and means of spiritual improvement. The astonishing example which our most amiable and adorable Saviour here sets us of infinite meekness, patience, charity, and humility, if seriously considered and meditated upon, will speak a language which will reach the very bottom of our hearts, and totally reform our innermost affections and sentiments. That inordinate self-love and pride which by the contagion of sin seems almost interwoven in our very frame, will be beat down to the very ground; the poison of our passions, with which our souls are so deeply infected in all their powers, will be expelled by this sovereign antidote; and sincere compunction, patience, humility, charity, and contempt of the world will entirely possess our affections. The more a soul is advanced in the school of all Christian virtues, the more feelingly she will find every circumstance in these sacred mysteries to be an unfathomed abyss of love, clemency, meekness, and humility, and an inexhausted source of spiritual riches in all virtues. By this meditation she will daily learn more perfectly the spirit of our Divine Redeemer, and put on that blessed mind which was in Christ Jesus. In this interior conformity to him consists the reformation and perfection of our inner man: this resemblance, this image of our divine original formed in us, entitles us to the happy portion of his promises.

OCTOBER 8 — ST. THAIS, THE PENITENT

About the middle of the fourth age, there lived in Egypt a famous courtesan named Thas, who had been educated a Christian; but the sentiments of grace were stifled in her by an unbridled love of pleasure, and desire of gain. Beauty, wit, and flattering loose company brought her into the gulf; and she was engaged in the most criminal infamous habits, out of which only an extraordinary grace can raise a soul. This unhappy, thoughtless sinner was posting to eternal destruction, when the divine mercy interposed in her favor. Paphnutius, a holy anchoret of Thebais, wept without intermission for the loss of her soul, the scandal of her vicious courses being public in the whole country. At length, having earnestly recommended the matter to God, he formed a project, or a pious stratagem, in order to have access to her, that he might endeavor to rescue her out of her disorders. He put off his penitential weeds, and dressed himself in such a manner as to disguise his profession. Going to her house, full of an ardent zeal for her conversion, he called for her at the door, and was introduced to her chamber. He told her he desired to converse with her in private, but wished it might be in some more secret apartment. “What is it you fear?” said Thas: “If men, no one can see us here; but if you mean God, no place can hide us from his all-piercing eye.” “What!” replied Paphnutius; “do you know there is a God?” “Yes,” said she; “and I moreover know that a heaven will be the portion of the good, and that everlasting torments are reserved in hell for the punishment of the “wicked.” “Is it possible,” said the venerable old hermit, “you should know these great truths, and yet dare to sin in the eyes of Him who knows and will judge all things?” Thas perceived by this stinging reproach, that the person to whom she spoke was a servant of God, who came inspired with holy zeal to draw her from her unhappy state of perdition; and, at the same time, the Holy Ghost, who moved Paphnutius to speak, enlightened her understanding to see the baseness of her sins, and softened her heart by the touch of his omnipotent grace. Filled with confusion at the sight of her crimes, and penetrated with bitter sorrow, detesting her baseness and ingratitude against God, she burst into a flood of tears, and throwing herself at the feet of Paphnutius, said to him: “Father, enjoin me what course of penance you think proper; pray for me, that God may vouchsafe to show me mercy. I desire only three hours to settle my affairs, and I am ready to comply with all you shall counsel me to do.” Paphnutius appointed a place to which she should repair, and went back to his cell.

Thas got together all her jewels, magnificent furniture, rich clothes, and the rest of her ill-gotten wealth, and making a great pile in the street, burnt it all publicly, inviting all who had made her those presents, and been the accomplices of her sins, to join her in her sacrifice and penance. To have kept any of those presents, would have been not to cut off all dangerous occasions which might again revive her passions, and call back former temptations. By this action she endeavored also to repair the scandal she had given, and to show how perfectly she renounced sin, and all the incentives of her passions. This being done, she hastened to Paphnutius, and was by him conducted to a monastery of women. There the holy man shut her up in a cell, putting on the door a seal of lead, as if that place had been made her grave, never more to be opened. He ordered the sisters as long as she lived to bring her every day only a little bread and water, and he enjoined her never to cease soliciting heaven for mercy and pardon. She said to the holy man: “Father, teach me how I am to pray.” Paphnutius answered: “You are not worthy to call upon God by pronouncing his holy name, because your lips have been filled with iniquity; nor to lift up your hands to heaven, because they are defiled with impurities; but turn yourself to the east* and repeat these words: Thou who hast created me, have pity on me.” Thus she continued to pray with almost continual tears, not daring to call God Father, she having deserved to forfeit the title of his child, by her unnatural ingratitude and treasons; nor Lord, she having renounced him to become a slave to the devil; nor Judge, which name filled her with terror by the remembrance of his dreadful judgments; nor God, which name is most holy and adorable, and comprises in one word his supreme essence and all his attributes; but, howsoever she had by her actions disowned him, she remained the work of his hands; and by this title she conjured him, for the sake of his boundless mercy and goodness, to look upon her with compassion, to raise her from her miseries, restore her to his favor, and inspire her with his pure and most perfect love. In repeating this short prayer, she exercised all acts of devotion in her heart, exciting in her affections not only the most profound sentiments of compunction, humility, and holy fear, but also those of hope, praise, adoration, thanksgiving, love, and all interior virtues, in which her affections most feelingly dilated themselves. When she had persevered thus with great fervor for the space of three years, St. Paphnutius went to St. Antony to ask his advice whether this penitential course did not seem sufficient to prepare her for the benefit of reconciliation, and the holy communion. St. Antony said, St. Paul the Simple should be consulted; for God delights to reveal his will to the humble. They passed the night together in prayer. In the morning, St. Paul answered, that God had prepared a place in heaven for the penitent. Paphnutius therefore went to her cell to release her from her penance. The penitent, considering the inscrutable judgments of God, and full of deep sentiments of compunction, and of her absolute unworthiness ever to be admitted to sing the divine praises in the company of the chaste spouses of Christ, earnestly begged she might be permitted to continue in her penitential state to the end of her life; but this Paphnutius would not suffer. She said that from the time of her coming thither she had never ceased bewailing her sins, which she had always before her eyes. “It is on this account,” said Paphnutius, “that God has blotted them out.” She therefore left her prison to live with the rest of the sisters. God, satisfied with her sacrifice, withdrew her out of this world fifteen days after her releasement, about the year 348. She is honored in the Greek Menologies on the 8th of October. See her life written by an ancient Greek author, in Rosweide, p. 374; D’Andilly, Bulteau, and Villefore.

OCTOBER 8 — ST. PELAGIA, PENITENT

This saint had been a comedian at Antioch, even while she was a catechumen; but afterwards renounced that profession, and became a true penitent. The manner of her conversion is thus related in the Greek Mena, published by the emperor Basil. The patriarch of Antioch having assembled a council of bishops in that city, St. Nonnus,* one of the number, was commissioned to announce the word of God to the people. Accordingly he preached before the church of St. Julian martyr, in the presence of the other bishops. During the sermon, Pelagia passed that way richly adorned with jewels; and her beauty, heightened with all the elegance of dress, drew on her the attention of the whole assembly, except the bishops, who turned away their eyes from so scandalous an object. But Nonnus, looking earnestly at Pelagia, cries out in the middle of his discourse, “The Almighty in his infinite goodness will show mercy even to this woman, the work of his hands.” At these words she stopped suddenly, and, joining the audience, was so touched with remorse for her criminal life, that she shed abundance of tears; and immediately after the sermon she addressed herself to Nonnus, imploring him to instruct her how to expiate her sins, and to prepare her for the grace of baptism. The holy penitent distributed all her goods among the poor, changed her name from Margaret to Pelagia, and resolved to spend the remainder of her life in the exercise of prayer, and the austerities of penance. After her baptism, which she received at the hands of Nonnus, she retired to Jerusalem, and having taken the religious veil,† shut herself up in a grotto on Mount Olivet, in the fifth age. Phocas, a monk of Crete, in the relation of his voyage from Palestine in 1185,1 describes Mount Olivet, and the grotto where the saint completed the martyrdom of her penance, and where her relics were preserved in an urn. St. Pelagia is mentioned on this day in the Roman Martyrology, and in the Greek and Muscovite Calendars; but in an ancient inscription on marble in Naples, on the 5th of October.‡ See her life written by James, deacon of Heliopolis in Syria, an eye-witness of her conversion and penance, ap. Rosweide, Vit. Patr. p. 374. The same is found in an ancient MS. in folio, on vellum well preserved, which formerly belonged to the abbey of St. Edmundsbury in England, and is at present in the author’s possession. This MS. contains a fine collection in Latin of the lives of the Fathers of the desert, which Rosweide published from MSS. found in different libraries of the Low-Countries. It were to be wished that the learned Jesuit had either suppressed, or distinguished by some mark, two or three spurious pieces, which are evidently the work of modern Greeks. See also Theophanes in his Chronology, under the year 432; Nicephorus Callixtus, &c.

OCTOBER 8 — ST. KEYNA, VIRGIN

Braghan, prince of part of Wales, who has left his name to Brecknockshire, was happy in an offspring of saints. The most famous were St. Canoc, who founded many monasteries in Ireland; and St. Keyna, surnamed by the Welsh, The Virgin, who lived a recluse in a wood in Somersetshire, at a distance from her own country, near the town of Cainsham, which seems so called from her, and stands on the Avon not far from Bristol. Spiral stones in the figure of serpents have been found in that country, which some of the people pretend to have been serpents turned into stones by her prayers.1 They seem either petrifactions or sports of nature in uncommon crystallizations in a mineral soil. St. Keyna is said to have died in her own country in the fifth or sixth century. Many places in Wales are filled with monuments of the great veneration which was formerly paid to this saint. See her acts in Capgrave Alford, &c.

OCTOBER 9 — ST. DIONYSIUS, BISHOP OF PARIS, AND HIS COMPANIONS, MARTYRS

From St. Greg. of Tours, Hist. Fran.1. 1, c. 30. The acts of their martyrdom extant in Bosquet, Eccl. Gallic. Hist. t. 2, pp. 68, 73, were compiled from oral relations about the 7th century, those which were written by Massus, bishop of Paris, under Constantius Chiorus, almost contemporary, not being then extant. See Rivet, Hist. Litter, t. 4, p. 38; t. 1, part 1, p. 305; part 2, p. 49. Tillemont, t. 4. p. 443. Dom. Felibien, Hist. de l’Abbaie de St. Denys, anno 1707, folio. Append. p. 162. Due Bois, Hist. Eccl. Paris, t. 1. Orsi,1. 7, n. 4, t. 3, p. 141.

A. D. 272.

THE faith is said by some to have been planted in part of Gaul by St. Luke, and especially by St. Crescens, a disciple of St. Paul. The churches of Marseilles, Lyons, and Vienne, were indebted for the light of the gospel to Asiatic or Grecian preachers, though they had received their mission and orders from the apostolic see of Rome. For pope Innocent I. positively affirms1 that no one had established churches in the Gauls, or in Spain or Africa, but persons who had been ordained bishops by St. Peter and his successors. The history of the martyrs of Lyons and Vienne, in 177,2 proves the flourishing state of those churches in the second century. St. Irenus very much advanced the faith in Gaul, and left many eminent disciples behind him, though two of the most illustrious among them, Caius and St. Hippolytus, left Gaul, and displayed their abilities and zeal in Italy and other foreign countries. Nevertheless, the light of the gospel did not spread its beams so early upon the remoter parts of Gaul, as is expressly affirmed by Sulpicius Severus,3 and in the Acts of St. Saturninus. St. Germanus of Paris, and seven other French bishops, in a letter to St. Radegondes,4 say, that the faith having been planted in Gaul, in the very birth of Christianity, made its progress slowly till the divine mercy sent thither St. Martin in 360. Numerous churches, however, were established before that time in most parts of that country, by seven bishops sent thither by the bishop of Rome to preach the gospel.*

Of all the Roman missionaries sent into Gaul, St. Dionysius carried the faith the furthest into the country, fixing his see at Paris, and by him and his disciples the sees of Chartres, Senlis, and Meaux were erected,5 and, shortly after, those of Cologne and others, which we find in a flourishing condition and governed by excellent pastors in the fourth century, witness St. Maternus of Cologne, &c. SS. Fuscian and Victoricus, Crispin and Crispinian, Rufinus and Valerius, Lucian of Beauvais, Quintin, Piaton, Regulus or Riticius of Senlis, and Marcellus, are called disciples or fellow-laborers of St. Dionysius, and came from Rome to preach the name of Christ in Gaul. We are assured in the acts of the martyrdom of St. Dionysius, that this zealous bishop built a church at Paris, and converted great numbers to the faith. A glorious martyrdom crowned his labors for the salvation of souls, and the exaltation of the name of Christ. He seems to have suffered in the persecution of Valerian, in 272, though some moderns defer his death to the beginning of the reign of Maximian Herculeus who resided chiefly in Gaul from the year 286 to 292. Ado calls the judge by whom he was condemned, Fescenninus. The Acts of his Martyrdom, St. Gregory of Tours, Fortunatus, and the western martyrologists inform us, that after a long and cruel imprisonment he was beheaded for the faith, together with Rusticus, a priest, and Eleutherius, a deacon. The Acts add, that the bodies of the martyrs were thrown into the river Seine, but taken up and honorably interred by a Christian lady named Catalla, not far from the place where they had been beheaded. The Christians soon after built a chapel over their tomb. In 469, through the pious exhortations of St. Genevive, a church was raised upon the ruins of this chapel, which was a place of great devotion, much resorted to by pilgrims, as appears from the works of St. Gregory of Tours, in many places, by which it is clear that this church stood without the walls of the city, though very near them. By a donation of Clotaire II., it appears that here was then a religious community governed by an abbot. Dagobert, who died in 638, founded the great abbey in this place, in which he was interred, and which has been for many ages the usual burial-place of the French kings. Pepin and his son Charlemagne were principal benefactors to this monastery, which was magnificently rebuilt by abbot Suger. The relics of SS. Dionysius, Rusticus, and Eleutherius, are kept here in three silver shrines.* The miraculous cure of pope Stephen II., in this church, has been already related.6 St. Dionysius of France is commonly called St. Denis, from the French Denys. A portion of his relics is said to be possessed by the abbey of St. Emmeran, at Ratisbon.†

Those apostolic pastors who converted so many nations to Christ were men filled with his Spirit, who regarded nothing but his glory, and acted and lived for him alone. Christ on earth never entertained any regard but for the glory of his Father, to whom he offered himself and his kingdom. Whoever becomes his minister, must, in like manner, have no aim, no intention but to advance the divine honor: for this he must be dead to the world, and have bid adieu to it, that is, to all desires of honors, applause, pleasures riches, or any earthly goods whatever. Such a one sees nothing in this world which he hopes or desires; nothing that he much fears; he seeks no composition with it while he is engaged in the cause of his master; no threats or apprehensions of terror from its persecution can damp his courage in defending the honor of God, or cool his zeal for the salvation of souls.

OCTOBER 9 — ST. DOMNINUS, M

Being an officer of the bedchamber to Maximian Herculeus, when that emperor kept his court at Milan, in 304, the persecution raging with great violence, he fled secretly towards Rome; but was overtaken on the Claudian Way, between Parma and Placentia, and beheaded upon the spot. He was buried in the same place, and his tomb was glorified by many miracles. A town which arose up there, and is now an episcopal see, is called from him Burgo-san-Domnino. See his Acts, and Tillemont, t. 5, p. 136.

OCTOBER 9 — ST. GUISLAIN, ABBOT

The name of St. Guislain is famous in the lives of St. Amand, St. Aubert, and St. Aldegondes. Having led some time an eremitical life in a forest in Haynault, upon the river Haysne, for the benefit of many who desired to serve God under his direction, he founded there a monastery in 651, in honor of St. Peter and St. Paul, which he governed with great sanctity and prudence thirty-six years, under the rule of St. Basil, or of the eastern monks. By his exhortations two holy and illustrious sisters renounced the world,—St. Vaudru, who, in 656, erected a monastery at a place called, from a certain camp, Castri Locus, now Mons,—and St. Aldegondes, who erected a double monastery, which gave rise to the town of Maubeuge. St. Guislain died on the 9th of October, 681, and is commemorated in the Roman Martyrology. His monastery, which was long called The Cell, exchanged the rule of Regular Canons to receive from St. Gerard that of St. Bennet, in 930. The little town which arose in the same place is a strong fortress. The lives of St. Guislain are all modern. See Fleury,1. 39, n. 30.

OCTOBER 9 — ST. LEWIS BERTRAND, C

Lewis was the son of John Lewis Bertrand, a royal notary, and was born at Valencia in Spain on the 1st of January, 1526. He was the eldest of nine children, who, being all remarkable for their piety, were a proof how deep root virtue takes in the hearts of youth when it is imprinted in them by the good example and early instructions of pious parents. Lewis from his infancy loved retirement, prayed much and with fervor, and practised mortifications of which his lender age seemed almost incapable. He ate very little, shunned all frivolous amusements and recreations, and whatever served to flatter the senses in diet or other things; and, when he could deceive the vigilance of his mother, he slept on the bare ground. He was often found on his knees in some secret part of the house, and seemed by his teachable disposition and sincere humility of soul to have inherited the spirit of St. Vincent Ferrer, to whom he was related by blood. When he went abroad to the schools, he redoubled his watchfulness over himself, lest necessary commerce with the world should weaken the sentiments of piety in his breast. He never lost sight of the divine presence, and, seeking the Lord in the simplicity of his heart, he deserved to hear his voice in pious books and devout prayer, which he made his most familiar entertainment. He sought no company but that of the virtuous. At fifteen years of age he desired to take the religious habit among the Dominicans. His father opposed his inclination on account of the tenderness of his age and constitution; and the prior of that order at Valencia could not but pay a regard to his remonstrance. These delays only increased the ardor of the postulant’s desires. The next prior was the celebrated F. John Mico, who had been brought up a poor shepherd in the mountains of Albaida, in which employment he had learned to contemplate God in the works of the creation. By repeating to his fellow-shepherds the instructions he learned from pious books and sermons, he induced many to embrace the practice of perfect virtue. He afterwards became an eminent doctor among the Dominican friars, introduced a reform of that order in Spain, was a great preacher, and an apostle of some of the Moors in Spain. He wrote several works of piety and holy meditations, full of unction and science in the interior life.* This great servant of God gave the habit to young Bertrand, and conducted the fervent novice in the path of true virtue by the love of the cross and humiliations, the contempt of earthly things, and the exercises of obedience, humility, and charity; teaching him that a soul gains more advantages by patience in spiritual dryness and privations, than by consolations and supernatural favors.

When the saint was ordained priest he usually said mass every day; he prepared himself to offer that adorable sacrifice by spending always some hours in prayer and in exercises of holy compunction, by which, and often by the sacrament of confession, he endeavored diligently to purify his soul from the least stains it might have contracted, to correct the least irregularities and disorders which easily steal into our affections, and to cleanse them from all the poison of self-love which is so apt secretly to infect them. For being filled with a holy dread of the divine judgments, and the deepest sense and awe of the infinite justice, sanctity, and purity of God, with the most innocent life he joined the practice of the most severe constant penance. And he seemed desirous to set no bounds to the fervor of his compunction before he approached the holy mysteries. His angelical modesty, the ardor of his love, the impression of which seemed to appear in his countenance, and the torrents of tears which he usually shed at the altar, inspired with tender devotion all persons that heard his mass. Being made master of novices in 1551, both by his example and words he taught them sincerely and perfectly to renounce the world and their own will, to conceive an entire distrust in themselves, and by a spirit of prayer, closely to unite their souls to God. The saint’s talents did not at first appear promising for the pulpit; nevertheless, being employed in that sacred function, he overcame all difficulties, and his discourses produced incredible fruit, because they were animated with zeal and charity, and breathed a spirit of sincere piety and humility. In 1557, a pestilence raging in the kingdom of Valencia, the saint knew no danger, and spared no pains in exhorting and assisting the sick, and in burying the dead. He who cheerfully exposed his life for his brethren during this calamity, when it was over, obtained of his superiors, by earnest importunities, leave to preach the gospel to the savages in America, which was a most painful and dangerous mission.

St. Lewis embarked at Seville in 1562, with another friar of his order; and during the voyage, by his daily exhortations and instructions, he brought all the sailors to a reformation of their lives. The vessel in which he sailed landed in Golden Castile, in South America, and the saint repaired to the convent of his order in that province. Without the least thought of allowing himself any rest, or taking any refreshment after the fatigues of his journey, he prepared himself by severe fasts and watchings to open his mission. During the course of his mission in those parts he lay often in the open air and usually on the ground, or on pieces of wood, which formed rather a rack than a bed; by refusing the ordinary succors which missionaries in those parts furnished themselves with, he often suffered the utmost severities of hunger and other inconveniences. The gifts of tongues, of prophecy, and of miracles, were favors conferred by heaven on this new apostle, as the authentic history of his life, and the bull of his canonization, assure us. In the isthmus of Panama, the isle of Tobago, and the province of Carthagena, in the space of three years, he converted to Christ above ten thousand souls, and baptized all the inhabitants of the city of Tubara and the places adjoining. He then preached with like fruit at Cipacoa. The savages at Paluato, still more enslaved to their passions than to their idols, resisted the light of heaven. The prayers, tears, and mortifications which the saint offered up for them seemed at that time to be lost; but afterwards produced the most plentiful harvest. In the manner it pleases God frequently to try the patience and perseverance of his most faithful ministers. The next mission which the saint undertook was among the Caribbees, who are looked upon as the most brutal, barbarous, and unteachable people of the human race. The holy preacher making no account of the sacrifice of his life, penetrated alone through the forests, and over the mountains of Guiana, which they inhabit; neither was the divine seed altogether barren among these barbarians, and several even of their priests were baptized by our saint. The inhabitants of the mountains of St. Martha received him as an angel sent from heaven, and he baptized there about fifteen thousand persons. One thousand five hundred Indians followed him thither from Paluato, and having been instructed in the faith, were baptized by him and his companions. In the country of Monpaia, and in the isle of St. Thomas, the saint gained a new people to Christ, and new triumphs to the church Heaven protected him more than once from all attempts made upon his life by poison, the sword, and other ways. He foretold many things to come, and in the city of Carthagena raised a dead woman to life. Pierced to the quick to see the avarice and cruelty of several Spanish adventurers in the Indies, and not being able to find any means of putting a stop to those evils, he was desirous to seek redress in Spain; and about that time he was recalled thither by his superiors. He sailed from Carthagena in America, and arrived at Seville in 1569, whence he returned to Valencia. He was appointed successively prior of two convents of his order, and wonderfully revived in them both the primitive spirit of their holy founder. Among many other predictions he foretold the conversion of John Adorno, a noble Genoese, and that he would institute a new religious Congregation; which was verified by that of the Regular Clerks, called Minors, whom he afterwards founded. St. Teresa consulted St. Lewis, and received great comfort from his advice under her greatest difficulties. When she wrote to him about her design of establishing a reformation of the Carmelite order, he sent her the following answer: “Because the honor of God is highly concerned in your intended undertaking, I took some time to recommend it to him by my poor prayers. For this reason I deferred so long my answer. I now bid you take courage in the name of the Lord, who will favor you. It is in his name that I assure you your reformation will be, within the space of fifty years, one of the most illustrious orders in the church.”

St. Lewis preached the divine word during twelve years, without intermission, in several dioceses in Spain. He trained up many excellent preachers, who succeeded him in the ministry of the word in that and the following ages. The first lesson he gave them was, that humble and fervent prayer must always be the principal preparation of the preacher; for words without works will never have the power to touch or change hearts. Words must be animated by the spirit of prayer, and must derive their force and efficacy from this source, or they will be little more than an empty sound. A want of feeling in the preacher never fails to leave the hearers cold, how much soever his eloquence may tickle their ears; and as for those who court applause, and preach themselves rather than the word of God, their studied affectation or vanity alienates and disgusts those that hear them; but the language of the heart is almost irresistible. Our saint inculcated that preachers must not judge of the fruit of their sermons by the applause of men, but by their tears, and by the change of their manners. It said he, they lay aside enmities, forgive injuries, avoid the occasions of sin and scandals, and reform their conduct by your discourses, then say that the good seed is fallen on a good soil; but give all glory to God alone, and acknowledge yourselves unprofitable servants.* He first practised these rules himself, especially by cultivating in his soul the most profound humility, and an eminent spirit of prayer. His humility never appeared more remarkable than when it was put to the most dangerous trial, amidst the greatest honors. When all persons with loud acclamations called him a saint and an apostle, and treated him with the highest esteem, then the fear of the divine judgments made the deepest impression upon his soul. With his apostolic labors he joined assiduous prayer and abundant tears for the conversion of sinners; and in this he earnestly exhorted all devout Christians to join him, and to call in all the mourners of the earth, and all creatures, that by their united loud cries and perseverance they might move the tender bowels of the divine mercy to compassion for so many souls that are blind amidst the greatest spiritual miseries, and sport themselves, without thinking of their danger, on the brink of eternal perdition. His thirst for their salvation made him cheerfully meet all dangers, and regard labors and fatigues as the greatest pleasures. Crosses were always his joy, and his continual austerities and penance made his whole life a long martyrdom. The two last years of his life he was afflicted with painful colics, and frequent fevers, under which it was his constant prayer to say with St. Austin: “Here cut, here burn, here spare not, that I may find mercy for eternity. Under his infirmities it was wonderful with what zeal and alacrity he continued his penitential austerities, and his apostolic labors. In 1580 he preached the Lent at Xativa, and went thence to preach in the cathedral at Valencia, where he was carried sick from the pulpit to the bed, from which he never rose. Amidst the tears of all about him he appeared cheerful at the approach of death, having foretold the very day to several friends in secret, almost a year before; in particular to the archbishop of Valencia and the prior of the Carthusians. The archbishop would attend the saint during his illness, and administered his remedies and broths with his own hand. The holy man gave up his soul to God amidst his prayers, in company with all the brethren of his convent, on the 9th of October, 1581, being fifty-five years old. Many miraculous cures attested his favor with God. He was beatified by Paul V., in 1608, and canonized by Clement X., in 1671. See the bull of his canonization, and his life written by F. Vincent Justinian Antist, Dominican of Valencia, printed at Saragossa and Valencia in 1582; and again most accurately by John Lopez, bishop of Monopolis. See also Touron, Hommes Illustr., t. 4, p. 485.

OCTOBER 10 — ST. FRANCIS BORGIA, C

His life complied by F. Ribadeneira, who was nine years his confessor, is the master-piece of that pious author, who, by his acquaintance with the holy man, and his own experience in an interior life, was excellently qualified to animate in his expression the narrative of the actions of the saint with that spirit with which they were performed. The Latin translation of this life by F. And. Scot is looser than that extant in old French, made by the lord of Betencour. This valuable work is exceedingly improved by F. Verjus, a French Jesuit, who has retained the entire spirit and piety of the original, in the life he has compiled of this saint, in a smooth, elegant, and florid style; in which performance he had also recourse to the life of St. Francis Borgia, written by F. Eusebius of Nieremberg, in 1644, to a third life, which was only in Ms., though written the first in time, soon after the saint’s death, by F. Dionysius Vasquez, who had been nine years the saint’s confessor, and had lived with him a much longer time. This MS. history wants method; the original is kept in the professed house of the Jesuits at Valencia in Spain. F. Versus also quotes large MS. memorials with which he was furnished by the saint’s descendants, who flourish to this day in several illustrious branches in Spain, the chief of which is the duke of Gandia. See also F. Orlandini, Hist. Societ.1. 8, and chiefly F. Sachini, ib. t. 3, or Borgia; likewise F. Bartoli’s curious additional anecdotes of this history collected from the archives of the Professed House at Rome.

A. D. 1572.

MANY Christians seem afraid of following Jesus Christ with their whole hearts, and live as if they were for compounding with God and the world. These persons have a very false idea of virtue, which they measure only by their want of courage. If they once opened their hearts to the divine grace, and were sincerely resolved to spare nothing that they might learn to die to themselves, and to put on the spirit of Christ, they would find all their pretended difficulties to be only shadows; for, by the omnipotent power of grace, the roughest deserts are changed into smooth and agreeable paths under the feet of the just man. This St. Francis Borgia experienced, both in a private life in the world, at court, in a religious retirement, and in the functions of an apostolic life. St. Francis Borgia, fourth duke of Gandia, and third general of the Jesuits, was son to John Borgia, duke of Gandia, and grandee of Spain, and of Joanna of Aragon, daughter of Alphonso, natural son to Ferdinand V., king of Aragon, who was also regent of Castile for his daughter Joanna, and his grandson Charles, afterwards emperor. Ferdinand, who, by taking Granada in 1491, had put an end to the reign of the Moors in Spain, and by marrying Isabel, the heiress of Castile, united that whole monarchy in his family, was great-grandfather to our saint. The family of Borgia, or Borja, had long flourished in Spain; but received a new lustre by the exaltation of cardinal Alphonso Borgia to the pontificate, under the name of Calixtus III. in 1455. St. Francis was born in 1510, at Gandia, a town which was the chief seat of the family, in the kingdom of Valencia. His pious mother had a great devotion to St. Francis of Assisium, and in the pangs of a dangerous labor made a vow, that if she brought forth a son, he should he called Francis. As soon as he began to speak, his parents taught him to pronounce the holy names of Jesus and Mary, which he used often to repeat with wonderful seriousness. At five years of age he recited every day on his knees the chief parts of the catechism. All his diversion was to set up pious pictures, make little altars, imitate the ceremonies of the church, and teach them the little boys who were his pages. From the cradle he was mild, modest, patient, and affable to all. The noble sentiments of gratitude and generosity which he then began to discover, were certain presages of an innate greatness of soul; the former being inseparable from a goodness of heart, and the latter, when regulated by prudence and charity, being the greatest virtue of a prince, who is raised above others only that he may govern, and do good to mankind.

Francis, at seven years of age, could read his mother tongue, and the Latin office of the Blessed Virgin very distinctly. His father, therefore, thought it time for him to learn writing and grammar, for which purpose he appointed him a preceptor of known prudence, learning, and piety, who was called doctor Ferdinand. At the same time he was furnished with a governor, whose business it was at different hours to fashion the young prince to the exercises that were suitable to his birth, in proportion as his age was capable of them. It was the first care of the parents, in the choice of the masters whom they placed about their son, that they were persons of uncommon piety, whose example might be a continual lesson of virtue, and whose instructions should all ultimately tend to the grafting in his mind true sentiments of morality and religion, without which all other accomplishments lose their value. Learning, good-breeding, and other such qualifications, are useful and necessary instructions and helps; but these never make the man: every one is properly only such as the principles and maxims are by which he is governed. It is by these that a man’s life is guided; if they are false or depraved, his understanding is deprived of the light of truth, his heart is corrupted, and it is impossible he should not go astray, and fall head-long down the precipices which the world and his passions prepare for him. It is therefore the first duty of every parent and master to study, by every means, to cure the passions of a youth, to begin this by repressing their exterior effects, and removing all occasions and incentives; then to instil into their minds the strongest antidotes, by which he may be enabled and encouraged to expel their poison; and for this task no age is too early or tender; for if the mind has once taken any wrong bent, it becomes infinitely more painful and difficult to redress it. Opportunities are also to be taken in all studies of seasonably and strongly inculcating short lessons of religion, and all virtues. By this means their seeds are to be sown in such a manner in a tender heart, that they may shoot deep roots, and gather such strength as to be proof against all storms. Our saint was blessed by God with such dispositions to virtue, and so good a capacity for his studies, that in all these parts of his education his masters found this task both agreeable and easy. Before he was ten years old he began to take wonderful delight in hearing sermons, and spent much time in devotion, being tenderly affected to the Passion of our divine Redeemer, which he honored with certain daily exercises. In his tenth year, his pious mother fell dangerously ill; on which occasion, Francis, shutting himself up in his chamber, prayed for her with abundance of tears, and after his devotions, took a sharp discipline a long time together. This was the first time he used that practice of mortification, which he afterwards frequently made a part of his penance. It pleased God that the duchess died of that distemper in 1520. This loss cost Francis many tears, though he moderated his grief by his entire resignation to the divine will. Her pious counsels had always been to him a great spur of virtue; and he took care never to forget them.

At that time Spain was filled with tumults and insurrections of the common people against the regency.* The rebels taking their advantage of he absence of the young king, Charles V., (who was then in Germany where he had been chosen emperor,) plundered the houses of the nobility in the kingdom of Valencia, and made themselves masters of the town of Gandia. The duke fled with his whole family Going to Saragossa, he left his son Francis, then twelve years old, under the care of the archbishop, John of Aragon, who was his uncle, being brother to his deceased mother. The archbishop made up a household for his nephew, and provided him with masters in grammar, music, and fencing, which he had begun to learn at Gandia. The young nobleman labored at the same time to improve daily in grace and in every virtue. Two sermons which he heard a Hieronyinite friar, who was his confessarius, and a learned and spiritual man, preach,—one on the last judgment, the other on the passion of Christ,—made strong impressions on his mind, so that he remained ever after exceedingly terrified at the consideration of the divine judgments, and, on the other side, conceived an ardent desire to lay down his life for the love of his divine Redeemer, who died for him. Going to Baëza to see his great grandmother, Donna Maria de Luna, wife of Don Henriquez, uncle and master of the household to king Ferdinand, and great commander of Leon, with several other relations, he was confined there six months by a grievous fit of illness; during which time he gave great proofs of admirable patience and humility. From Baëza he was sent to Tordesillas, to be taken into the family and service of the infanta Catharine, sister to Charles V., who was soon after to be married to John III., king of Portugal. The marriage was accomplished in 1525; but when the infanta went into Portugal, the duke of Gandia, who had greater views for his son in Spain, recalled him, and engaged the archbishop of Saragossa to reassume the care of his education.

Francis was then fifteen years old, and after he had finished his rhetoric, studied philosophy two years under an excellent master with extraordinary diligence and applause. Many so learn these sciences as to put on in their thoughts and expressions a scholastic garb, which they cannot lay aside, so that their minds may be said to be cast in Gothic moulds. Hence it is become a proverb, that nothing is more horrid than a mere scholar, that is, a pedant, who appears in the world to have reaped from his studies scarce any other advantage than to be rendered by them absolutely unfit for civilized society. Nothing contributes more to improve all the faculties of the human mind than a well-regulated and well-digested course of studies, especially of the polite arts and philosophy; but then these must be polished by a genteel address and expression, by great sentiments of modesty and generosity, by a fine carriage suitable to a person’s rank, and by sincere Christian virtue. The prudent archbishop was solicitous to procure his nephew all these advantages. He was particularly careful to make his pupil active and laborious, by seeing that he went from one employment to another, without leaving any void or unprofitable time between them; nor did his masters fix the end of their instructions in the letter of his studies; but made use of every thing in them to frame his judgment, and form in him true taste; and they taught him to refer everything to virtue. This seemed the natural bent of the young nobleman’s soul, and in the eighteenth year of his age he had strong inclinations to a religious state. The devil raised up instruments to second his attack, and assailed the servant of God with most violent temptations of impurity, in order to profane that pure soul which God had consecrated to himself. Francis opposed to this dangerous enemy very frequent confession, fervent prayer, reading pious books, mortification, humility, distrust in himself, and a firm confidence in God, whose mercy alone bestows the inestimable gift of chastity, and to whom this glorious victory belongs. By these means the saint triumphed over this passion, and had preserved his virginal purity unspotted, when providence fixed him in the holy state of marriage. His father and uncle, to divert his thoughts from a religious life, removed him from Saragossa to the court of Charles V. in 1528, where they hoped his thoughts would take a different turn. The ripeness of his judgment and prudence were such as seldom appear in a more advanced age; and by his virtue, and his unaffected obsequiousness and assiduity in serving his prince, he could not fail of gaining a high place in his favor. Francis had a heart not insensible to the motives of such an honor, and full of tender sentiments of gratitude and generosity, but still more of those of religion. He considered his duty to his prince as his duty to God; and though he willingly accepted of every mark of his prince’s regard for him, he was very solicitous in all things to refer himself, his actions, and whatever he received from God, purely to the divine honor. The perfect sanctification of his own soul was his great and constant aim in all he did. As religious exercises themselves, without regularity, can never be steady, and without this advantage lose a considerable part of their lustre and merit, Francis was extremely exact in regulating both his personal devoirs, and the principal duties of his family. In it hours were appointed for every one to go every day to mass; for evening prayers, for pious reading, and meals. He heard sermons as often as possible, and conversed much with pious persons, went to confession almost every Sunday, and on all great festivals. It was also a part of his care that his whole family should spend well those days which are particularly set apart for the divine service. It is, indeed, from the manner in which a Christian employs them, that we may form an idea of his conduct with regard to his general practice and sense of religion.

St. Francis, though he delighted chiefly in the company of the most virtuous, was courteous and obliging to all, never spoke ill of any one, nor ever suffered others to do it in his presence. He was a stranger to envy, ambition, gallantry, luxury, and gaining; vices which are often too fashionable in courts, and against which he armed himself with the utmost precaution. He not only never played, but would never see others play, saying that a man commonly loses by it four things, his money, his time, the devotion of his heart to God, and his conscience. One of his servants discovered, that on the days on which he was obliged to visit company in which ladies made? part, he word a hair-shirt. In him it appeared, that there is no readier way to gain the esteem of men, though without seeking it, than by the heroic practice of Christian virtue. Nothing is so contemptible even among men of the world, as insolence, pride injustice, or anger; nothing so hateful as one who loves nobody but himself, refers every thing to himself, and makes himself the centre of all his desires and actions. Nor is there any thing more amiable than a man who seeks not himself, but refers himself to God, and seeks and does all things for God, and the service of others; in which Christian piety consists. The wicked themselves find no more solid comfort or protection in affliction than the friendship of such a person; even those who persecute him, because his virtue is a censure of their irregularities, nevertheless admire in their breasts that sincere piety which condemns them. This is more conspicuous when such a virtue shines forth in an exalted station. It is not, therefore, to be wondered that Francis was honored and beloved by all the court, particularly by the emperor, who called him the miracle of princes.

The empress had so great an esteem for him, and so high an idea of his merit, that she fixed her eye on him to marry Eleanor de Castro, a Portuguese lady of the first rank, a person of great piety and accomplishments, her principal favorite, who had been educated with her, and whom she had brought with her out of Portugal. The emperor was well pleased with the proposal, and concluded a treaty with the duke of Gandia for his son’s marriage. The great qualities and virtue of the lady, and his deference for the emperor and his father, did not allow Francis long to deliberate upon so advantageous an offer, which opened to him a road to the highest favors of the court. The marriage was solemnized in the most Christian manner to which state the saint brought the best preparation, innocence of life with unsullied purity, and an ardent spirit of religion and devotion. The emperor on that occasion created him marquis of Lombay, and master of the horse to the empress, and having had experience of his wisdom, secrecy, and fidelity, not only admitted him into his privy-council, but took great delight in conferring often privately with him upon his most difficult undertakings and communicated to him his most important designs. The marquis, to rid himself of the importunities of those who followed more dangerous diversions, spent some of his time in music, played on several instruments, and sung very well; he also set poetical pieces to music, and composed cantatas which were sung in some churches in Spain, and called the compositions of the duke of Gandia. But he never could bear any profane songs. It was to please the emperor, who was fond of hawking, that he first followed that diversion, always in his majesty’s company; he was afterwards very expert, and took much delight in it. He sometimes mentioned the aspirations with which he entertained his soul on those occasions, sometimes admiring and adoring the Creator in the instinct of a bird or beast, or in the beauty of the fields and heavens; sometimes considering the obedience and docility of a bird, and the disobedience of man to God; the gratitude of a wild and fierce beast or bird, which being furnished with a little food, forgets its natural ferocity, and is made tame; yet man is ungrateful to God from whom he receives all things; the hawk soars to heaven as soon as its pinion is at liberty; yet man’s soul grovels on the earth. In such like reflections and self-reproaches, the pious marquis was often much affected and confounded within himself, and to pursue his pious meditations he often left the company to hide himself in some thicket. The emperor studied mathematics, and Francis made use of the same master to learn those sciences, especially the branches which are most useful for fortifying towns, and the whole military art, on which subjects his majesty frequently conversed with him. The emperor made him his companion in his expedition into Africa against Barbarossa, in 1535, and in another which he undertook against France into Provence, in 1536, whence he dispatched him to the empress to carry her news of his health and affairs.

Under a violent fever with which the marquis was seized in 1535, he made a resolution to employ for his ordinary reading no other books but those of piety, especially devout instructions, the lives of saints, and the holy scripture, particularly the New Testament, with a good commentator; in reading which he often shut his book to meditate on what he had read In 1537, being at the court, which was then at Segovia, he fell sick of a dangerous quinsy, in which he never ceased praying in his heart, though he was not able to pronounce the words. These accidents were divine graces which weaned Francis daily more and more from the world; though, while it smiled upon him, he saw the treachery, the shortness, and the dangers of its flattering enjoyments, through that gaudy flash in which it danced before his eyes. Others receive the like frequent admonitions, but soon drown them in the hurry of pleasures or temporal affairs in which they plunge their hearts. But none of those calls were lost on Francis. His life at court had always appeared a model of virtue. But as he had not yet learned perfectly to die to himself, a mixture of the world found still a place in his heart, and his virtues were very imperfect. He even feared, and bitterly accused himself, that he had some time in his life been betrayed into mortal sin. But God was pleased to call him perfectly to his service. In 1537, died his grandmother, Donna Maria Henriquez, called in religion, Mary Gabriel. She was cousin-german to king Ferdinand, and married John Borgia, the second duke of Gandia. By his sudden death she remained a widow at nineteen years of age, having had by him two children, John, our saint’s father, and Isabel, who became a Poor Clare at Gandia, who was afterwards chosen abbess of that house, and was eminent for her extraordinary devotion, and love of extreme poverty and penance. Mary, her mother, after having brought up, and married her son, and seen the birth of our saint, entered the same austere order, in the thirty-fourth year of her age. The physicians declared, that if she embraced so severe a manner of life, she could not live one year;1 nevertheless, she survived in it thirty-three years, living the most perfect model of humility, poverty, recollection, and penance, under obedience to her own daughter, who was abbess of that monastery. She met death with so much joy, that in her agony she desired a Te Deum might be sung as soon as she should have expired, in thanksgiving for her happy passage from this world to God. The marquis used afterwards to say, that from the time that his grandmother went to heaven, he found his soul animated with new strength and courage to devote himself most perfectly to the divine service. God blessed his marriage with a numerous and happy offspring, five boys and three girls; Charles, the eldest, who was duke of Gandia, when Ribadeneira wrote the life of our saint; Isabel, John, Alvarez, Johanna, Fernandez, Dorothy, and Alphonsus. Dorothy died young, a Poor Clare, at Gandia; the rest all married, enjoyed different titles and posts of honor, and left families behind them.

St. Francis was much affected at the death of his intimate friend, the famous poet, Garcilas de Vega, who was killed at the siege of a castle in Provence, in 1537. The death of the pious empress Isabel happened two years after, on the 1st of May, 1539, while the emperor was holding the states of Castile at Toledo with the utmost pomp and magnificence. His majesty was much afflicted for the loss of so virtuous a consort. The marquis and marchioness of Lombay were commissioned by him to attend her corpse to Granada, where she was to be buried. When the funeral convoy arrived at Granada, and the marquis delivered the corpse into the hands of the magistrates of that city, they were on both sides to make oath that it was the body of the late empress. The coffin of lead was therefore opened, and her face was uncovered, but appeared so hideous and so much disfigured that no one knew it, and the stench was so noisome that everybody made what haste he could away. Francis, not knowing the face, would only swear it was the body of the empress, because, from the care he had taken, he was sure nobody could have changed it upon the road. Being exceedingly struck at this spectacle, he repeated to himself: “What is now become of those eyes, once so sparkling? Where is now the beauty and graceful air of that countenance, which we so lately beheld? Are you her sacred majesty, Donna Isabel? Are you my empress, and my lady, my mistress?” The impression which this spectacle made on his soul remained strong and lively during the thirty-three years that he survived it, to his last breath. Returning that evening from the royal chapel to his lodgings he locked himself up in his chamber, and passed the whole night without a wink of sleep. Prostrate on the floor, shedding a torrent of tears, he said to himself: “What is it, my soul, that I seek in the world? How long shall I pursue and grasp at shadows? What is she already become, who was lately so beautiful, so great, so much revered? This death which has thus treated the imperial diadem, has already levelled his bow to strike me. Is it not prudent to prevent its stroke, by dying now to the world, that at my death I may live to God?” He earnestly conjured his divine Redeemer to enlighten his soul, to draw him out of the abyss of his miseries, and to assist him by his all-powerful grace, that with his whole heart he might serve that master whom death could not rob him of. The next day, after the divine office and mass in the great church, the celebrated and holy preacher, John of Avila, made the funeral sermon, in which, with a divine unction and energy, he set forth the vanity and deceitfulness of all the short-lived enjoyments of this world, false and empty in themselves, and which entirely vanish when death cuts the thread of our life, and overturns at once all those castles which our foolish imagination has raised in the air. He then spoke of the eternal glory or misery which follows death, and of the astonishing madness of those who in this moment of life neglect to secure what is to them of such infinite importance. This discourse completed the entire conversion of the marquis, who, that afternoon, sent for the preacher, laid open to him the situation of his soul, and his desires of bid ding adieu to the world. The holy director confirmed him in his resolution of quitting the court, where a soul is always exposed to many snares, and of entering upon a new course of serving God with the utmost fervor. Francis determined upon the spot to forsake the court, and soon after made a vow to embrace a religious state of life if he should survive his consort.

At his return to Toledo the emperor made him viceroy of Catalonia, and created him knight and commander of the order of St. James, or of the Red Cross, the most honorable in Spain. Barcelona was the residence of his government; and no sooner had he taken possession of his post, but he changed the whole face of the province. The highways were cleared of robbers; against their bands the viceroy marched in person, and caused the criminals to be rigorously executed, having first provided them with the best spiritual assistance to prepare them for their punishment and death. He carefully watched the judges, obliging them to administer justice impartially and to dispatch lawsuits with all reasonable expedition. He set up, in all parts of the province, schools and seminaries for youth, and assisted debtors and all distressed persons with extraordinary charities. The great duties of his charge, to which he applied himself with unwearied diligence, and which made him at once the judge, the father, and the protector of a numerous people, were no impediments to his exercises of religion. Four or five hours together were devoted by him to mental and vocal prayer every morning as soon as he rose, without any prejudice to public affairs or neglect of his family. He added to every hour of the divine office, which he said every day, a meditation on a station of our Saviour’s passion, so as to accompany him every day through all its parts, from the garden to the sepulchre He performed daily devotions to our Lady, in which he meditated on the principal mysteries and virtues of her life. At the times in which he gave audience, or applied himself to business, he had God always present to his mind. When he was obliged to assist at public entertainments or diversions, his mind was usually so absorbed in God that if he was afterwards asked about them, he could give no account of what had passed or been said at them. Tears of devotion often gushed from his eyes, even in the midst of business, and he would sometimes thus address himself to God: “Who could ever soften this heart of mine, which is harder than flint or adamant, but you alone, O Lord! You, O God of mercies, who could draw fountains of water from a rock, and raise up sons of Abraham out of stones, could change a stony heart into one of flesh.” His austerities were excessive. He entirely laid aside suppers that he might employ that time in prayer Having passed two Lents without taking any other sustenance than once a day a mess of leeks, or some pulse with a piece of bread, and a cup of water to drink, he was desirous to fast in that manner a whole year. At the same time he kept a table suitable to his rank, for the lords who visited him, and the officers that attended him; dining with his company he ate his leeks or pulse very slow, and conversed facetiously with them that no one might observe him, if possible, though at table his discourse generally turned on piety. His watchings, disciplines, and other austerities were very severe. By this rigorous way of living, he, who was before very fat, became so lean that his servant found his clothes grown about half a yard too big for him within the space of a year. He used often to say, “We must make our way towards eternity, never regarding what men think of us or our actions, studying only to please God.” Knowing the obligation of dying perfectly to ourselves, this he endeavored to effect from the beginning of his conversion by humiliations, and a sovereign contempt of himself. He had formerly been accustomed to communicate only once a month. Since he had altered his manner of living, he confessed his sins once every week; communicated in public on all great festivals, and privately every Sunday, generally with wonderful spiritual consolations and delights. He sometimes considered the peace, serenity, and solid joy with which divine love fills a soul whose affections are disentangled from earthly things, and the inexpressible pure delights and sweetness, which the presence of the Holy Ghost infuses into hearts which he prepares by his grace to receive his communications; and comparing these with the foolish, empty, and base satisfactions of worldlings, he was not able to express his astonishment, but cried out: “O sensual, base, miserable, and blind life! Is it possible that men should be such strangers to their own happiness, such enemies to themselves, to be fond of thy false enjoyments, and for their sake to deprive themselves of those that are pure, permanent, and solid!” This was the life of the devout viceroy when F. Antony Aroaz, the first professed Jesuit after the ten that were concerned in the foundation of that order, came to preach at Barcelona. By his means Francis became acquainted with this new institute, and the character of its holy founder, to whom he wrote to consult him whether so frequent communion as once a week was to be commended in persons engaged in the world. St. Ignatius, who was then at Rome, answered him, that frequent communion is the best means to cure the disorders of our souls, and to raise them to perfect virtue; but advised him to make choice of a prudent and pious director, and to follow his advice. Pursuant to this direction, Francis continued his weekly communion, employing three days before it in preparatory exercises, and three days after it in acts of thanksgiving. From that time he began frequently to make use of Jesuits for his directors, and to promote the Society of Jesus in Spain, which had been approved by Paul III. two years before.

During this interval died John duke of Gandia, his father, a nobleman of singular virtue. When a person complained that his alms exceeded his estate, his answer was: “If I had thrown away a larger sum on my pleasures, no one would have found fault with me. But I had rather incur your censure, and deprive myself of necessaries, than that Christ’s members should be left in distress.” Francis was much affected at the news of his death, by which the title and honors of duke of Gandia devolved upon him. Shortly after he obtained of the emperor, as he passed through Barcelona on his road to Italy, leave to quit his government; but his majesty insisted that he should repair to court, and accept of the office of master of the household to the infanta, Maria of Portugal, daughter to king John III., then upon the point of being married to Philip, the emperor’s son; but the death of that princess before the intended marriage, set our saint at liberty to follow his own inclinations to a retired life. He therefore returned to Gandia in 1543, which town he fortified, that it might not be exposed to the plunders of the Moors and pirates from Barbary. He built a convent for the Dominicans at Lombay, repaired the hospital, and founded a college of Jesuits at Gandia. His duchess Eleanor, who concurred with him in all his pious views, fell sick of a lingering distemper, during which Francis continued to fast, pray, and give large alms for her recovery. One day as he was praying for her, prostrate in his closet, with great earnestness, he was on a sudden visited with an extraordinary interior light in his soul, and heard, as it were, a voice saying distinctly within him: “If thou wouldst have the life of the duchess prolonged, it shall be granted; but it is not expedient for thee.” This he heard so clearly and evidently that, as he assured others, he could not doubt, either then or afterwards, but it was a divine admonition. He remained exceedingly confounded; and penetrated with a most sweet and tender love of God, and bursting into a flood of tears, he addressed himself to God as follows: “O my Lord and my God, leave not this, which is only in thy power, to my will. Who art Thou but my Creator and sovereign good? and who am I but a miserable creature? I am bound in all things to conform my will to thine. Thou alone knowest what is best, and what is for my good. As I am not my own, but altogether thine, so neither do I desire that my will be done, but thine, nor will I have any other will but thine. Do what thou pleasest with the life of my wife, that of my children, and my own, and with all things thou hast given me.” Thus in all our prayers which we put up to God for health, life, or any temporal blessings, we only ask that he grant them in mercy, and so far only as he sees expedient for our spiritual good. The duke made this oblation of himself and all things that he possessed with extraordinary fervor and resignation. From that day the duchess grew every day sensibly much worse, and died on the 27th of March, 1546, leaving the duke a widower in the thirty-sixth year of his age. Her great piety, and the heroic Practices of all Christian virtues, by which she prepared herself for her passage, gave him the greatest comfort under his loss, by an assured hope of her eternal happiness. A few days after her death, F. Peter Le Fevre, or Faber, St. Ignatius’s first associate in founding his order, came to Gandia. He was then leaving Spain to go into Italy, and was ordered by St. Ignatius to call upon the duke of Gandia in his way. Our saint made a retreat under his direction according to the spiritual exercises of St. Ignatius, and rejoiced exceedingly that he had found in this experienced director such a spiritual master and guide as he wished. With him the saint agreed upon the execution of a design he had formed of founding a college of Jesuits at Gandia, and F. Le Fevre, after having said mass, laid the first stone, the duke the second, and his sons each another, on the 5th of May, 1546. In favor of this college the duke procured that Gandia should be honored by the pope and emperor with the privileges of a university. F. Le Fevre died on the 1st of August the same year, 1546, soon after his arrival at Rome. After his departure from Gandia, St. Francis, from the conferences he had with him, composed severa small treatises of piety, which show by what exercises he began to lay the foundation of a spiritual life. The two first of these books treat of the method of acquiring a true knowledge of ourselves, and sincere humility.*

In the mean time, the good duke took a resolution to consecrate himself to God in some religious order, and having long recommended the affair to God, and taken the advice of learned and pious men, deliberating with himself whether to prefer an active or a contemplative state, he made choice of the active, and determined to embrace the society of Jesus, then lately founded, in which he was much delighted with the zealous views of that holy order, and with that rule by which all preferment to ecclesiastical dignities is cut off. He sent his petition for admittance to St. Ignatius at Rome by a servant. The holy founder received his request with great joy; but, in his answer, advised the duke to defer the execution of his design till he had settled his children, and finished the foundations he had begun, advising him in the mean time to study a regular course of theology at Gandia, and to take the degree of doctor in that faculty. The duke punctually obeyed his directions, but was obliged to assist, in 1547, at the cortes or general states of three kingdoms, of which that of Aragon was then compounded, and which were assembled at Monson. The reconciliation of the nobility, both among themselves and with their sovereign, was the important and delicate affair which was to be there settled. The emperor, who by former experience was well acquainted with the extraordinary integrity and abilities of the duke of Gandia, had enjoined his son prince Philip, who held the states, to take care that he should be appointed tratador or president. By his dexterity and steady virtue, matters were settled to the satisfaction of all parties, and the saint delivered himself this last time in which he spoke on the public affairs of state, in such a manner as to move exceedingly all who heard him. In the same year he made the first vows of the society before private witnesses in the chapel of the college he had founded at Gandia. For St. Ignatius, knowing the earnestness of his desire to complete his intended sacrifice, and considering by how many ties he was held, which it was difficult for him to break at once, obtained a brief of the pope, by which he was allowed to spend four years in the world after he should have made his first vows. By them the saint consecrated himself with his whole heart as an holocaust to God; and, leaving his castle to his eldest son, retired into a private house, where he studied the positive and scholastic theology under the learned doctor Perez, whom he invited from Valencia to settle in his new college at Gandia. The rule of life which he prescribed himself was as follows: He rose every morning at two o’clock, spent six hours in private prayers till eight, then went to confession, heard mass, and received every day the holy communion; which he did in the great church on Sundays and holydays; on other days, in his own private chapel or tha of the nunnery of St. Clare. At nine o’clock he received his theological lesson, and studied till almost dinner-time, when he took some moments to give audience to his officers of justice, and dispatch business; he dined a twelve very temperately, after which he spent an hour in giving useful directions to his children, servants, or others; the afternoons he gave to his studies, and the evenings to his devotions, without ever taking any supper or collation. In his night-examination he was remarkably rigorous in calling himself to account, and punishing himself for the least failings that he apprehended. He married his eldest son Charles to Donna Maria Centellas, the daughter of Francis Centellas, count of Oliva, and Donna Maria Cardona, daughter to the duke of that name. The saint also made a provision for all his other children, took the degree of doctor at Gandia, and made his will, which was no difficult task, as by his prudence and economy he was his own executor, and left no obligations undischarged; only be recommended to his heirs the protection of his three convents, of the Jesuits Dominicans, and Poor Clares.

Having finished his affairs, though the four years which were granted him were not expired, he set out for Rome in 1549, being accompanied by his second son John, thirty servants, and some Jesuits who went from their convent at Gandia to a general chapter which was then held at Rome. In going out of the town of Gandia he sung those two verses: When Israel went out of Egypt: and, Our soul is escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowler: the snare is broken, and we are escaped. In his journey he observed the same rule of life which he had followed the three last years, spending as much time in prayer, and going to confession, and receiving the communion every day. Notwithstanding his repugnance, he was obliged to submit to the magnificent receptions he met with at Ferrara, that of the duke of Florence, and at Rome, where he arrived on the 31st of August, 1550 He refused to lodge in the pope’s palace, or any other, which he was earnestly pressed to do, and chose a mean cell in the convent of the Jesuits. St. Ignatius waited to receive him at the door, and the duke, throwing himself at his feet, begged his blessing, and honored him as his father and superior. After paying his obeisance to the pope, and receiving and returning the visits of all the great men at Rome he performed his devotions for the Jubilee. With a considerable sum of money which he brought from Spain he built a church for the use of the Professed House, and laid the foundation of a great college of Jesuits called The Roman College; but refused the title and honor of founder. Pope Gregory XIII. finished it in the most magnificent and complete manner. From Rome he sent a gentleman who was a domestic client, to the emperor in Germany, to beg his license to resign his duchy to his eldest son. He laments, in his letter to that prince, and accuses himself that, by the scandalous life he had led in his court, he had deserved bell, and even the lowest place in hell; earnestly thanks the divine mercy for having borne with him with infinite goodness and patience; and expresses a humble and tender gratitude to the fathers of the society, who, out of compassion for his soul, had admitted him among them to spend the remaining part of his life in penance and in divine service. He promises his imperial majesty to pray that God who had made him victorious over his enemies, would give him the more important victory over his passions, and himself, and enkindle his pure love in his soul, with an ardent devotion to the Passion of Jesus Christ, so that the cross should become his delight and his glory. This letter was dated at Rome the 15th of January, 1551.

Upon a rumor that pope Julius III. was resolved to promote our saint to the dignity of cardinal, he obtained the leave of St. Ignatius, after having stayed four months at Rome, to withdraw privately into Spain, where he lived some time concealed in Guipuscoa, (a small province in Biscay,) at the castle of Loyola, then retired to a small convent of his order at Ognata, a town about four leagues from Loyola. In this place the emperor’s obliging answer was brought him, in which his majesty expressed how much he was edified at the exchange he had made of the world for heaven, and low much he was afflicted to lose him; but ratified his request, and promised to lake his children under his special protection. The duke having read this letter, retired into an oratory, and, prostrate on the ground, made the most perfect consecration of himself to God: and desiring no other riches or possession but him alone, and renouncing in his heart the whole world, he earnestly begged the grace perfectly to die to himself, that God alone, or his love, might live and reign in his soul, and that he might deserve to carry the cross of his Redeemer by the practice of mortification and poverty. Coming out of his closet he made a solemn renunciation of all his worldly dignities and possessions, according to the legal forms, in favor of his eldest son. who was absent; then cut his hair, put off his ducal robes, and put on the Jesuit’s habit. This being done, he went again into the oratory to renew his offering of himself to God, and to beg his grace that his sacrifice might be made entire, and he sung with great joy those words of the psalmist: I am thy servant. This passed in 1551. After the most devout preparation he was ordained priest on the 1st of August the same year, and said his first mass in the chapel of Loyola.

The saint begged of the magistrates of Ognata a small hermitage dedicated in honor of St. Mary Magdalen, a mile from that town, and with the leave of his superior retired thither with certain fathers of the society, that he might more heartily devote himself to the practices of humility, penance, and prayer. With great importunity he obtained leave to serve the cook, fetch water, and carry wood; he made the fire and swept the kitchen; and when he waited at table, he often fell on his knees to beg pardon of the fathers and lay-brothers for having served them ill; and he frequently kissed their feet with extraordinary affection and humility. He loved and coveted the meanest employs with a sincere affection of humility, and was delighted to carry a wallet on his shoulders to beg, especially where he was not known. He often went through the villages with a bell, calling the children to catechism, and diligently teaching them their prayers and the Christian doctrine, and instructing and preaching to all ranks, especially the poor. At the earnest request of the viceroy of Navarre, Don Bernardin of Cardenas, duke of Marquede, the saint preached in that country with incredible fruit, and the duke regulated his whole conduct and all his affairs by the saint’s direction. The emperor and pope Julius III. concurred in the design of adopting St. Francis into the college of cardinals. St. Ignatius fell at the feet of his holiness, begging he would not inflict such a wound on his society, by which its fences would be broken down, and one of its most express rules rendered useless. St. Francis had recourse to tears, prayer, and extraordinary mortifications, to avert the danger. When this storm was blown over, St. Ignatius sent to St. Francis an order to preach in other parts of Spain, to which he was invited with great importunity. The success which everywhere attended his labors is not to be conceived; and many persons of the first quality desired to regulate their families and their consciences entirely by his advice. After doing wonders in Castile and Andalusia, he seemed to surpass himself in Portugal, especially at Evora and Lisbon. King John III. had been the warmest protector of the society from its infancy. His brother the infant Don Lewis desired to make himself a Jesuit; but St. Francis and St. Ignatius thinking his assistance necessary to the king in the administration of the public affairs, persuaded him to satisfy himself with following a plan of life which St. Francis drew up for him in the world. The most learned doctors acknowledge that the spiritual wisdom of this saint was not learned from the books which he was accustomed to read, but from secret humble prayer, and a close communication with the divine wisdom. St. Ignatius augmenting the provinces of the society in Spain to the number of five, besides the Indies, appointed St. Francis commissary-general of the order in Spain, Portugal, and the Indies, in 1554; but obliged him in the practice of particular austerities to obey another; for such had always been the fervor of our saint in his severe penitential exercises that the holy general had found it necessary from the beginning of his conversion to mitigate them by strict injunctions. Amidst the numberless conversions of souls, and the foundations of new houses, St. Francis found time and opportunities for his accustomed devotions and humiliations in serving his brethren and the poor in hospitals and prisons. When any one was fallen into any fault, he would say to them: “Through my unworthiness God has permitted such a misfortune to befall you. We will join our endeavors in doing penance. For my part I will fast, or pray, or take a discipline so and so: what will you do?” Or the like occasions such was his patience and humility, it seemed impossible for any one to resist the force of his example and charity. St. Ignatius dying in 1556, F. Laynez was chosen second general of the society, St. Francis being at that time detained in Spain by a fit of the gont.

The emperor Charles V., sated with the emptiness of worldly grandeur, and wearied with the dissipation, fatigues, and weight of government, for sook the world, abdicated the empire by a solemn act which he signed a Zaytburg in Zell, on the 7th of September, 1556, and those for the place of his retirement a great monastery of Hieronymites, called of St. Justus, in the most agreeable plains of Placentia, in Spanish Estramadura, not far from Portugal. Antonio de Vera,2 De Thou,3 Surius.4 Sleidan, and many other historians give us an edifying account of the life he led in this solitude, applying himself much to pious reading, (in which the works of St. Bernard were his chiefest delight,) to the practices of devotion, and to frequent meditation on death. That this might make the stronger impression on his mind, he caused his own funeral office to be celebrated before he died, and assisted himself at the ceremony, dressed in black. He worked in his garden, and at making clocks, assisted at all the divine offices, communicated very often at mass, and took the discipline with the monks every Friday. As he travelled through Spain to the place of his retirement, from Biscay, where he landed, he saw himself neglected by the president of Castile and others who had the greatest obligations to him; and he found the payments slack of the small pension which was all he had reserved out of so many kingdoms. Hereupon he let drop some words of complaint; but, desiring to see F. Francis Borgia, the saint waited upon, and the emperor was wonderfully comforted by his discourses. This prince had been prepossessed against the society, and expressed his surprise that F. Francis should have preferred it to so many ancient orders. The saint removed his prejudices, and for the motives which had determined him in his choice, he alleged that God had called him to a state in which the active and contemplative life are joined together, and in which he was freed from the danger of being raised to dignities, to shun which he had fled from the world. He added, that if the society was a new order, the fervor of those who are engaged in it answered that objection. After staying three days with the emperor, he took leave, and continued his visitation of the colleges and new foundations erected in favor of his order in Spain.

The society sustained a great loss by the death of John III., the most valiant and pious king of Portugal, who was carried off by an apoplexy in the year 1557. This great and religious prince, who had succeeded his father Emmanuel the Great in 1521, during a reign of thirty-six years had labored with great zeal to propagate the faith in Asia and Africa, and had founded many colleges and convents. The crown devolved upon his grandson Sebastian, then only three years old; his father, the infant John, son to the late king, and his mother, Joanna, daughter to Charles V., being both dead. His grandmother, queen Catharine, was regent of the kingdom, to whom St. Francis wrote a letter of condolence and consolation, tenderly exhorting her to praise God for all his mercies, to be resigned to his holy will, and to have no other view than to advance in his grace and love. Afterwards the emperor deputed St. Francis to make his compliments of condolence to the queen regent, and treat with her about certain affairs of great importance. A dangerous pestilential fever, and her majesty’s great respect for his person, detained him a considerable time in Portugal; but before the end of the year he went back to the emperor to inform him of the result of his commission. His majesty soon after sent for him again, and discoursed with him on spiritual things, especially prayer, works of satisfaction, and penance, and the making the best preparation for death. The emperor told St. Francis, that since he had been twenty-one years of age he had never passed a day without mental prayer; and he asked, among other scruples, whether it was a sin of vanity in him to have committed to writing several actions of his life, seeing he had done it for the sake, not of human applause, but of truth, and merely because he had found them misrepresented in other histories he had read. St. Francis left him to go to Valladolid, but had not been there many days before news was brought of the emperor’s death. That prince, after devoutly confessing his sins, and receiving the viaticum and the extreme unction, holding a crucifix in his hands, and repeating the holy name of Jesus, expired on the 21st of September, 1558. St. Francis made his funeral panegyric at Valladolid, insisting on his happiness in having forsaken the world before it forsook him, an order to complete his victory over himself.

The true greatness of our saint appeared not in the honors and applause which he often received, but in the sincere humility which he took care constantly to nourish and improve in his heart. In these dispositions he looked upon humiliations as his greatest gain and honor. From the time that he began to give himself totally to the divine service, he learned the infinite importance and difficulty of attaining to perfect humility. The most profound interior exercise of that virtue was the constant employment of his soul. At all times he studied most perfectly to confound and humble himself in the divine presence beneath all creatures, and within himself Amidst the greatest honors and respect that were shown him at Valladolid, his companion, F. Bustamanti, took notice, that he was not only mortified and afflicted, but more than ordinarily confounded; of which he asked the reason. “I considered,” said the saint, “in my morning meditation, that hell is my due; and I think that all men, even children, and all dumb creatures ought to cry out to me, Away; hell is thy place; or thou art one whose soul ought to be in hell.” From this reflection he humbled his soul, and raised himself to the most ardent love of God, and tender affection towards the divine mercy. He one day told the novices that, in meditating on the actions of Christ, he had for six years always placed himself in spirit at the feet of Judas; but that, considering that Christ had washed the feet of that traitor, he durst not approach, and from that time looked upon himself as excluded from all places, and unworthy to hold any in the world, and looked upon all other creatures with a degree of respect, and at a distance. When the mules and equipages of many cardinals and princes preceded him, to show him honor in the entry he made at Rome in 1550, before he had laid aside his titles and rank in the world, he said: “Nothing is more just than that brute beasts should be the companions of one who resembles them.” At all commendations or applause he always shuddered, calling to mind the dreadful account he must one day give to God, how far he was from the least degree of virtue, and how base and execrable hypocrisy will appear at the last day. Upon his renouncing the world, in his letters he subscribed himself Francis the Sinner, calling this his only title, till St. Ignatius ordered him to omit it, as a singularity. In this interior spirit or humility he laid hold of every opportunity of practising exterior humiliations, as the means perfectly to extinguish all pride in his heart, and to ground himself in the most sincere contempt of himself. He pressed with the utmost importunity Don Philip, while that prince was regent of Spain for his father, to extort from him a promise that he would never concur to his being nominated bishop, or raised to any other ecclesiastical dignity; adding, that this would be the highest favor he could receive from him. Others, he said, could live humble in spirit amidst honors, and in high posts, which the established subordination of the world makes necessary; but, for his part, it was his earnest desire and ambition to leave the world in embracing the state of a poor religious man. When a gentleman, whom John, king of Portugal, sent to compliment him upon his first coming to Lisbon, used the title of his lordship, the saint was uneasy, and said, he was indeed tired with his journey, but much more with that word. He used to say, that he had reaped this only advantage from having been duke, that he was on that account admitted into the society; for he should otherwise have been rejected as unfit and incapable. His greatest delight was to instruct the poor in places where he was unknown, or to perform the meanest offices in the convents where he came. It was his ambition at college to teach the lowest class of grammar, and only dropped that request upon being told he was not qualified for the task. At Evora, when the whole country assembled to receive from him some instruction, he threw himself on his knees, and kissed the feet of all the fathers and lay-brothers; with which act of humility they were more affected than they could have been by any sermon. At Porto, though commissary of his order, he took the keys of the gate, and served as porter. A certain postulant who was sent thither to him from Seville at that time, in order to be admitted to the novitiate, found him at the gate among the poor. St. Francis told him there was a great heap of filth near them, which he was to carry away, and asked if he would help him. The postulant readily assented, and they cleansed the place. When he had eaten something very bitter and very ill-dressed, on a journey, his companion, F. Bustamanti, asked him how he could eat it. His answer was: “It would seem delicious to one who had tasted of the gall with which the damned are tormented in hell.” In travelling he generally lay on straw, or, in winter, in barns. A nobleman, who had been his friend in the world, asked him how he could rest so ill accommodated, and entreated him to accept of better lodgings, and, in journeys, to send a messenger to prepare necessaries before he arrived. The saint replied, “I always send a faithful messenger before me to do all that.” “Who is that?” said the other. “It is,” replied the saint, “the consideration of what I deserve for my sins. Any lodging appears too good for one whose dwelling ought to be in hell.” Being once on a journey with F. Bustamanti, they lay all night together in a cottage, upon straw, and F. Bustamanti, who was very old and asthmatical, coughed and spit all night; and, thinking that he spit upon the wall, frequently disgorged a great quantity of phlegm on his face which the saint never turned from him. Next morning F. Bustamanti, finding what he had done, was in great confusion, and begged his pardon Francis answered: “You have no reason; for you could not have found a fouler place, or fitter to be spit upon.” Trials which are involuntary are much more profitable than humiliations of choice, in which self-love easily insinuates itself. Such, therefore, as Providence sent, the saint most cheerfully embraced. Among others, while he was employed at Porto in the foundation of a convent, he heard that the Inquisition had forbidden the reading of some of the little tracts he had written while he was duke of Gandia, upon a groundless suspicion of errors. His silence and modesty on that occasion seemed at first to embolden his adversaries; but these works were at last cleared of all suspicions of error, and the censure taken off Some raised a clamor against him on account of his former intimacy with the learned Dominican, Bartholomew Caranza, archbishop of Toledo whom, at the instigation of king Philip II., the Inquisition in Spain cas into prison, upon false surmises; but that prelate was protected by the pope, and at last died at Rome in peace. Many slanders were raised against the society in Spain, which Melchior Cano, the learned bishop of the Canaries, author of the excellent book, On Theological Commonplaces, suffered himself to be too much carried away by. But the pious Lewis of Granada and our saint, after some time, dispersed them.

By the extraordinary humility of St. Francis we may form some idea how much he excelled in all other virtues. No one could be a greater lover of holy poverty than our saint. This he showed in all his actions. From the day of his profession he never intermeddled in money concerns, thinking it his happiness that he was never employed as procurator or dispenser in any house of his order. How sparing he was in fire, paper, and clothes, is altogether incredible. One pair of shoes often lasted him two years. The same cassock served him in journeys, and at home, in all seasons; only in travelling he turned the wrong side out, that it might be kept neater, and last better. No one could ever prevail upon him to use boots, or any additional clothing, in travelling in sharp or rainy weather; and he never seemed better pleased than when he came in wet and fatigued to a place where neither fire nor any refreshment was to be had. The marchioness of Pliego having sent him a present of a pair of warm stockings, they were laid by his bedside in the night, and his old ones taken away, in hopes he would not have perceived the change; but in the morning he was not to be satisfied till the brother had brought him his old darned stockings. The oldest habit and the meanest cell he sought. The Spanish ambassador’s sister at Rome once said to him at table: “Your condition, Francis, is wretched, if, after exchanging your riches for so great poverty, you should not gain heaven in the end.” “I should be miserable indeed,” said the saint; “but as for the exchange, I have been already a great gainer by it.” A perfect spirit of obedience made him always respect exceedingly all his superiors: the least intimation of their will he received as if it had been a voice from heaven. When letters from St. Ignatius were delivered to him in Spain, he received them on his knees, and prayed, before he opened them, that God would give him grace punctually to obey whatever orders they contained. When he served in the kitchen, he would never stir without the leave of the brother who was the cook; and when for a long time he was ordered to obey a lay-brother, called Mark, in all things that regarded his health and diet, he would neither eat nor drink the least thing without his direction. He used to say, that he hoped the society would flourish to the divine honor by three things: First, the spirit of prayer, and frequent use of the sacraments. Secondly, by the opposition of the world, and by persecutions. Thirdly, by the practice of perfect obedience. Penance is the means by which every Christian hopes to attain to salvation. St. Francis usually called it the high road to heaven; and sometimes he said, he trembled lest he should be summoned before the tribunal of Christ, before he had learned to conquer himself. For this grace he prayed daily with many tears. His hair shirts and disciplines with the cloths with which he wiped off the blood, he kept under lock and key while he was viceroy of Catalonia, and while he was general of the society. Sometimes he put gravel in his shoes when he walked; and daily, by many little artifices, he studied to complete the sacrifice of his penance, and to overcome himself. When the cook had one day by mistake made his broth with wormwood, which he had gathered instead of other herbs, the saint ate it cheerfully without saying a word. Being asked how he asked it, he said: “I never ate any thing fitter for me.” When others found out the mistake, and the cook in great confusion asked his pardon: “May God bless and reward you,” said he, “you are the only person among all my brethren, that knows what suits me best.” To his daughter the countess of Lerma, when she complained of pain in a fit of illness, he said: “God sends pain to those that are unwilling to bear it; and refuses it to those who desire to suffer something for the exercise of patience and penance.” Such desires in certain fervent penitents, arising from a great zeal to punish sin in themselves, and subdue sensuality and self-love, ought to confound our sloth, and love of softness and ease. But it is lawful and expedient with humility and charity to deprecate pain, if it may please God to remove or mitigate it; though to bear it, when sent by God, with patience and resignation, is a duty and precept; as it also is so far to practise mortification, as to endeavor by it to fulfil our penance, and gain the victory over ourselves. St. Francis once said to his sister, the Poor Clare at Gandia. “It is our duty in a religious state to die to ourselves twenty-four times a day, that we may be able to say with the apostle, I die daily, and be of the number of those of whom he says: You are dead.”5 In sickness he chewed bitter pills, and swallowed the most nauseous potions slowly; and being asked the reason, he said: “This beast (so he often called his body) must suffer to expiate the delight it formerly took in immoderately flattering its palate. And can I forget that Christ drank gall for me on his cross!”

Much might be said on this saint’s singular prudence, on his candor and simplicity in all his words and actions, and on his tender charity and humanity towards all men. Though all virtues were eminent in him, none appeared more remarkable than his spirit of prayer. Dead to the world and to himself, and deeply penetrated with a sense of his own weakness and spiritual wants on one hand, and of the divine goodness and love on the other, he raised his pure affections to God with unabated ardor. His prayer, even before he left the world, seemed perpetual; but much more so afterwards. Amidst the greatest hurry of business he kept himself in the actual presence of God, and often in company appeared quite absorbed in him. Five or six hours which he dedicated together to prayer in the morning seemed to him scarce a quarter of an hour; and, when he came from that heavenly exercise, his countenance seemed to shine with a dazzling light. His preparation for mass often held him some hours; and in his thanksgiving after offering that adorable sacrifice, he sometimes so much forgot himself, being transported in God, that it was necessary to force him from church, almost by violence, to dinner. Such were the devotion and modesty which appeared in his face, that many, whenever they found their souls spiritually dry, were excited to devotion by seeing and conversing a little with him. In order to attain the greatest purity of soul possible, he went twice a day to confession, with great compunction for the smallest imperfections in his actions, before mass, and again in the evening; a practice not to be advised to those who are in danger of doing it negligently, or without sufficient contrition, and endeavor perfectly to purge their hearts. From the heavenly sweetness which he tasted in the communication of his soul with God, he used to express his astonishment at, and compassion for, the blindness of worldlings, who know not the happiness of a spiritual life, and delight themselves in the brutal gratifications of sense. The news of the sudden death of the saint’s dearest daughter, Isabel of Aragon, countess of Lerma a lady of singular piety, and of the greatest endowments, was brought him when was in the streets of Valladolid, going to court. He stopped, shut his eyes, prayed secretly for about the space of four minutes, and then went on. At court he conversed with the princess as usual. In taking leave, he recommended to her prayers the soul of her late servant Isabel. “What!” said the princess, “has a father no more feeling for the death of such a daughter?” “Madam,” he replied, “she was only lent me. The Master has called her hence. Ought I not to thank him for having given her me so long, and for having now called her to his glory, as I hope in his mercy?” On the same occasion, he said to the constable of Castile: “Since the Lord hath called me to his service, and hath required of me to give him my heart. I have endeavored to resign it to him so entirely, that no creature, living or dead, should ever disturb it.”

F. Laynez, second general of the Jesuits, dying in 1565, St. Francis, notwithstanding all the precautions he could take to prevent it, was chosen to succeed him, on the 2d of July. He made tender exhortations to the fathers who composed the general assembly of the society, and kissed the feet of every one among them before they departed. His first care in this new charge was to found a house for a novitiate in Rome. He promoted the interest of the society in all parts of the world with such success, that he might be called a second founder; and the zeal with which he propagated the missions, and instructed and animated the laborers in planting the gospel in the most remote countries of the eastern and western hemisphere, entitles him to a great share in the conversion of those countries to the faith. He was not less active in directing his religious brethren in Europe, and in animating them with the zealous spirit of their institute for the reformation of the manners of Christians. Preaching being the principal means instituted by Cod for the conversion of souls, this holy instructor of preachers, not content most earnestly to recommend this sacred pastoral function, laid down excellent rules for duly performing the same.6 In 1566, a pestilence broke out, and made great havoc in Rome; upon which occasion St. Francis procared both from the pope and magistrates plentiful alms for the relief of the poor, and commissioned the fathers of his order, two and two, to attend the sick in all parts of the city, with imminent danger of their own lives. In 1570, the year before the victory of Lepanto, pope Pius V. sent St. Francis, with his nephew the cardinal Alexandrin, on an embassy into France, Spain, and Portugal, to engage the Christian princes to send succors for the defence of Christendon against the Mahometans. The saint had been for some time in a bad state of health: his infirmities, inclination to retirement, and a deep sense of the weight of his post, which he had filled five years, put him upon a design to procure a discharge from that burden in 1570; but this his brethren would by no means listen to. During this legation his distempers increased upon him, insomuch, that when he arrived at Ferrara in his return, the duke, who was his cousin, sent him from thence to Rome in a litter. During this state of his illness he would admit no visits but from persons whose entertainment turned on spiritual matters, except physicians. The fathers of the society begged he would name his successor, and allow them the satisfaction of taking his picture; but he would do neither. When he had lost his speech in his agony, a painter was introduced to his bedside. The saint perceiving him, expressed his extreme displeasure with his dying hands and eyes, and turned away his face, so that nothing could be done. F. Condren, the pious general of the French Oratorians, and other holy men, have from a sincere humility shown a like reluctance, while others have been inclined by charity, to condescend to such requests of friends. St. Francis closed a holy life by a more holy and edifying death, a little before midnight, between the last of September and the 1st of October, in 1572 haying lived sixty-two years, wanting twenty-eight days; cardinal Buon compagno, under the name of Gregory XIII., being pope, having lately succeeded St. Pius V. who died on the 1st of May the same year. F. Verjus gives a history of several miracles, predictions, and raptures of St. Francis Borgia.7 His body, which was buried in the old church of the professed house, was afterwards, in 1617, by the care of the cardinal and duke of Lerma, the saint’s grandson, first minister of state to Philip III. king of Spain, removed to Madrid, where it is honored at this day in the church of the professed house of the Jesuits. St. Francis was beatified by Urban VIII. in 1624, and canonized by Clement IX. in 1671, and his festival fixed on the 10th of October by Innocent XI. in 1683.*

The active and contemplative life in an ecclesiastical person are two individual sisters, which must always go together, and mutually assist each other. Every pastor owes to God the homage of continual praise, and to his people the suflrages of his sacrifices, and supplications in their behalf. How diligently soever he acquits himself of his external duties towards them, he fails essentially if he ceases to recommend earnestly to God their public and private spiritual necessities, being appointed the mediator betwixt them and God. Moreover, recollection and assiduous pious meditation are the very soul of an ecclesiastical spirit. A life of habitual dissipation strikes not at particular duties only, but destroys the very essence and spirit of this state, disqualifies a person for all its functions, and leaves him a stranger to the spirit of all its sacred employments and obligations. The most essential preparation, and the very soul of this state, is a spirit of prayer; without this a person is no more than the shadow of a pastor, or a body without a soul to animate it, and can never deserve the name of a clergyman, or a religious man.

OCTOBER 10 — ST. PAULINUS, ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, C

St. Paulinus is celebrated in the Roman Martyrology and in those of our country, as the apostle of the largest, and at that time the most powerful of the seven kingdoms of the English Saxons. St. Austin being in want of laborers, St. Gregory the Great, in 601, sent him Mellitus, Justus, Paulinus, and several others, together with sacred vessels, altar-cloths, and other ornaments for churches, vestments for priests, relics of the apostles and martyrs, and many books; decreeing by letters, that when the northern countries should receive the faith, York should be appointed a metropolitical see, in like manner with Canterbury. St. Paulinus, upon his arrival, employed his labors in Kent with great zeal and piety. Edwin, the powerful king of Northumberland, demanded in marriage Edelburge, princess of Kent; but was answered by her brother, king Eadbald, “That a Christian maid could not lawfully marry an idolater, lest the faith and its mysteries should be profaned by the company of one who was a stranger to the worship of the true God.” Edwin promised entire liberty and protection with regard to her religion, and expressed his own favorable dispositions to the same. Hereupon the princess was sent, and no one being judged more proper to be her guardian angel, and to undertake this new harvest than Paulinus, he was ordained bishop by St. Justus, archbishop of Canterbury, on the 25th of July, 625 and accompanied the young queen to her spouse. It was a continual affliction to his heart to live in the midst of a people who were strangers to the true worship of God, and all his tears, prayers, and endeavors to make him known and served by them were at first unsuccessful; for God was pleased to put his constancy and fidelity for some time to the trial. His prayers were at length heard. King Edwin was brought over to the faith in a wonderful manner, as has been related in his life;1 but he desired the concurrence of the chief men of his army and kingdom. A great assembly was called, such perhaps as the Saxon Chronicles often speak of under the name of Wittena Gemot, or Council of the Wites, which many moderns call the original of our parliament. In this assembly the pagan high-priest himself condemned loudly the worship of idols, and free liberty was given for any to embrace the Christian faith. The king was baptized by St. Paulinus at York on Easter Sunday in 627, together with his son Osfrid, whom he had by a former wife, and his niece Hilda. The ceremony was performed in a church of wood, raised in haste. King Edwin afterwards began one of stone, which was finished by St. Oswald.* Bede takes notice that churches and fonts not being yet built spacious enough for the crowds that flocked to receive baptism, St. Paulinus, when the king resided among the Deiri, baptized in the river Swale, near Cataract, where the king’s palace stood, and which was anciently a great city, as appears from Ptolemy and others, though it is now only a small village, called Catarric, with a bridge, a little below Richmond.† King Edwin built a church at Campodunum, where he had his Yorkshire country palace. This church is commonly said to be Almonbury, corruptly called from Albanbury, because it was consecrated by St. Paulinus in honor of St. Alban; though Gale thinks Campodunum was rather Tanfield, near Rippon. This palace being destroyed by Penda, the successors of Edwin built their country palace near Leeds; from the king by whom it was built it was called Oswinthorp, as Bede testifies. Edwin’s residence among the Bernicians was at Adgefrin, now Yeverin, in Glendale In that country St. Paulinus baptized the people in the river Glen, or Bowent After the death of St. Edwin, the king removed his palace to Maelmin, now Milfield, says Mr. Smith.

Our zealous bishop crossed the Humber, and preached the faith to the inhabitants of Lindsey, in the kingdom of Mercia, and baptized Blecca, the Saxon prince or governor of Lincoln, who is said to have derived his pedigree from Woden no less than the chief kings who founded the Saxon heptarchy. At Lincoln St. Paulinus built a church of stone, in which, after the death of St. Justus, he consecrated St. Honorius archbishop of Canterbury. Pope Honorius sent a pallium to St. Paulinus as the northern metropolitan in Britain; and in his letter of congratulation with king Edwin upon his conversion, he decreed as follows: “As to what you desire concerning the ordination of your bishops, we willingly agree to it; and we send palliums to your metropolitans Honorius and Paulinus, that whenever it shall please God to call either of them, the other may ordain a successor for him by virtue of this letter.”2 St. Paulinus being assisted by his deacon James, baptized a great multitude in the Trent, near Tiouulfingacaester, which Camden and Smith take to have been Southwell in Nottinghamshire, where a collegiate church, and other monuments of piety were testimonials of the grateful devotion of the people. The East-Angles also received the faith by the zeal of St. Paulinus and St. Edwin. This good king being slain in battle in 633, with his son Osfrid, whom he had by a former wife, and who had been christened with him, St. Paulinus conducted the queen Ethelburge with her little son and Edwin’s grandson by Osfrid, into Kent by sea. There she founded a nunnery at Liming, in which she took the veil. She is mentioned in the English Martyrology on the 10th of September. The two royal babes were sent into France to their cousin, king Dagobert, and both dying there in their infancy, were buried in the church, either because they died in their innocent age, or because they were of royal blood, says Bede;3 intimating that not only martyrs and innocents, but also princes, were then sometimes allowed to be buried in churches. James, whom our saint left behind took care of the distressed church of York, and baptized many, living near Cataract, on the Swale, at a village which afterwards took his name, says Bede, where he died in a very advanced age. St. Paulinus took with him into Kent the rich plate which king Edwin had bestowed on the church, particularly a large cross of gold, and a golden chalice for the ministry of the altar, which, with his pall, he left at his death in the church of Rhofi, now Rochester. For that see being then vacant, at the entreaty of king Eadbald, the archbishop Honorius appointed Paulinus bishop thereof, he not being permitted to quit his royal charge, or return to York. He died happily on the 10th of October, 644, having been bishop nineteen years says Bede. This Wharton would have corrected into eleven years;4 but did not lake notice that St. Paulinus sat first eight years at York, from 625 to 633. and afterwards eleven at Rochester, from 633 to 644, in all nineteen years and three months. When Gundulf the Norman was bishop of Rochester, archbishop Lanfranc rebuilt the cathedral church of St. Andrew, and causing the bones of St. Paulinus to be taken up, placed them in a rich shrine; the festival of which translation was kept at Rochester on the 10th of January. See Bede, Hist.1. 1, c. 29;1. 2, c. 14, 20; Thomas Stubbes (a learned Dominican who flourished in 1360) in his Actus Episcop. Eborac. p. 1687, (inter 10 Angl. Scriptor. published by Sir Roger Twisden) t. 2; Britannia Sancta, and the learned Mr. Drake’s Antiquities of York, t. 2.

OCTOBER 10 — ST. JOHN OF BRIDLINGTON, C

This eminent contemplative was born near Bridlington, or Burlington, a seaport in Yorkshire, and received from the example and instructions of his pious parents the precious inheritance of the most fervent piety and tender devotion, which he diligently improved during the course of his studies at Oxford. When he returned from the university, finding all employments distasteful which took off his mind from God, he took the religious habit in the monastery of regular canons of St. Austin at Burlington. In this solitude it was his great study to know himself and God; to discover and to wipe away with tears of compunction all the imperfections and stains of his soul, and to purge his affections from whatever could defile or distort them, that he might offer to God a continual sacrifice of obedience, love, and praise, with a perfect purity of heart. Thus he prepared his soul to let in those heavenly beams, which are always streaming from God upon minds fitted to receive them; and he advanced daily in the victory over himself, in the experimental knowledge of spiritual things, and in the fervent exercise of charity and all interior virtues. He was successively precentor, almoner, and at length prior of his monastery. This last charge he had averted by his tears and importunities the first time he was chosen; but upon a second vacation, his brethren, who were ashamed of their former want of resolution, obliged him to take up the yoke. It is incredible how plentifully he relieved the necessities of all persons in distress, to whom he looked upon every thing as due that by frugality and prudent economy could be spared in the management of his temporal revenue. His patience and meekness, his constant mortification and penance, and his constant application to the holy exercises of prayer, showed how much his whole conduct was regulated by the spirit of God; and an extraordinary spiritual prudence, peace of mind, and meekness of temper, were the amiable fruits of his virtue. When he had been seventeen years prior, he received with great joy the summons of his heavenly spouse, and was translated to eternal bliss on the 10th of October, 1379. Many miracles wrought through his intercession are mentioned by the author of his life, and by Walsingham, who testifies, that by order of the pope, the archbishop of York, assisted by the bishops of Durham and Carlisle, performed the ceremony of the translation of his relics. See his life in Surius, and Britannia Sancta.

OCTOBER 11 — SS. TARACHUS, PROBUS, AND ANDRONICUS, MM

From their original presidial acts in Ruinart, p. 419. See Tillemont, t. 5, p. 285.

THE holy name of God was glorified by the triumph of these martyrs in the persecution of Dioclesian, at Anazarbus in Cilicia, probably in the year 304, when the edicts against the Christians were made general, and extended to all the laity without exception. Their acts are a precious monument of ecclesiastical antiquity. The three first parts contain the triple examination which the saints underwent at Tarsus, Mopsuestia, and Anazarbus, three cities in Cilicia, and are an authentic copy of the proconsular register, which certain Christians purchased of the public notaries for the sum of two hundred denarii, upwards of six pounds sterling. The last part was added by Marcian, Felix, and Verus, three Christians who were present at their martyrdom, and afterwards stole the bodies from the guards, and interred them, resolving to spend the remainder of their lives near the place, and after their deaths, to be buried in the same vault with them.

The three martyrs were joined in the confession of the same faith, but differed in their age and countries. Tarachus was a Roman by extraction, though born in Isauria; he had served in the army, but had procured his discharge, for fear of being compelled to do something that was contrary to the duty of a Christian; he was at that time sixty-five years old. Probus, a native of Pamphylia, had resigned a considerable fortune, that he might be more at liberty to serve Christ Andronicus was a young nobleman of one of the principal families of the city of Ephesus. Being apprehended at Pompeiopolis in Cilicia, they were presented to Numerian Maximus, governor of the province, upon his arrival in that city, and by his order were conducted to Tarsus, the metropolis, to wait his return. Maximus being arrived there and seated on his tribunal, Demetrius, the centurion, brought them before him, saying they were the persons who had been presented to him at Pompeiopolis for professing the impious religion of the Christians and disobeying the command of the emperors. Maximus addressed himself first to Tarachus, observing that he began with him because he was advanced in years, and then asked his name. Tarachus replied—“I am a Christian.” MAXIMUS—“Speak not of thy impiety, but tell me thy name.” TARACHUS—“I am a Christian.” MAXIMUS—“Strike him upon the mouth, and bid him not answer one thing for another.” Tarachus, after receiving a butlet on his jaws, said—“I tell you my true name. If you would know that which my parents gave me, it is Tarachus; when I bore arms I went by the name of Victor.” MAXIMUS—“What is thy profession, and of what country art thou?” TARACHUS—“I am of a Roman family, and was born at Claudiopolis, in Isauria. I am by profession a soldier, but quitted the service upon the account of my religion.” MAXIMUS—“Thy impiety rendered thee unworthy to bear arms; but how didst thou procure thy discharge?” TARACHUS—“I asked it of my captain, Publio, and he gave me.” MAXIMUS—“In consideration of thy gray hairs, I will procure thee the favor and friendship of the emperors, if thou wilt obey their orders. Draw near, and sacrifice to the gods, as the emperors themselves do all the world over.” TARACHUS—“They are deceived by the devil in so doing.” MAXIMUS—“Break his jaws for saying the emperors are deceived.” TARACHUS—“I repeat it, as men they are deluded.” MAXIMUS—” Sacrifice to our gods, and renounce thy folly.” TARACHUS—“I cannot renounce the law of God.” MAXIMUS—“Is there any law, wretch, but that which we obey?” TARACHUS—“There is, and you transgress it by adoring stocks and stones, the works of men’s hands.” MAXIMUS—“Strike him on the face, saying, Abandon thy folly.” TARACHUS—“What you call folly is the salvation of my soul, and I will never leave it.” MAXIMUS—“But I will make thee leave it, and force thee to be wise.” TARACHUS—“Do with my body what you please, it is entirely in your power.” Then MAXIMUS said—“Strip him, and beat him with rods.” Tarachus, when beaten, said: “You have now made me truly wise. I am strengthened by your blows, and my confidence in God and in Jesus Christ is increased.” MAXIMUS—“Wretch, how canst thou deny a plurality of gods, when, according to thy own confession, thou servest two gods. Didst thou not give the name of God to a certain person, named Christ?” TARACHUS—“Right; for this is the Son of the living God; he is the hope of the Christians, and the author of salvation to such as suffer for his sake.” MAXIMUS—“Forbear this idle talk; draw near, and sacrifice.” TARACHUS—“I am no idle talker; I am sixty five years old; thus have I been brought up, and I cannot forsake the truth.” Demetrius, the centurion, said: “Poor man, I pity thee; be advised by me, sacrifice, and save thyself.” TARACHUS—“Away, thou minister of Satan, and keep thy advice for thy own use.” MAXIMUS—“Let him be loaded with large chains, and carried back to prison. Bring forth be next in years.”

Demetrius, the centurion, said: “He is here, my lord.” MAXIMUS—“What is thy name?” PROBUS—“My chief and most honorable name is Christian; but the name I go by in the world is Probus.” MAXIMUS—“Of what country art thou, and of what family?” PROBUS—“My father was of Thrace: I am a plebeian, born a Sida, in Pamphylia, and profess Christianity.” MAXIMUS—“That will do thee no service. Be advised by me, sacrifice to the gods, that thou mayest be honored by the emperors, and enjoy my friendship.” PROBUS—“I want nothing of that kind. Formerly, I was possessed of a considerable estate; but I relinquished it to serve the living God through Jesus Christ.” MAXIMUS—“Take off his garments, gird him,* lay him at his full length, and lash him with ox’s sinews.” Demetrius, the centurion, said to him, while they were beating him: “Spare thyself, my friend; see how thy blood runs in streams on the ground.” PROBUS—“Do what you will with my body, your torments are sweet perfumes to me.” MAXIMUS—“Is this thy obstinate folly incurable? What canst thou hope for?” PROBUS—“I am wiser than you are, because I do not worship devils.” MAXIMUS—“Turn him, and strike him on the belly.” PROBUS—“Lord, assist thy servant.” MAXIMUS—“Ask him, at every stripe, Where is thy helper?” PROBUS—“He helps me, and will help me; for I take so little notice of your torments, that I do not obey you.” MAXIMUS—“Look, wretch, upon thy mangled body; the ground is covered with thy blood.” PROBUS—“The more my body suffers for Jesus Christ, the more is my soul refreshed.” MAXIMUS—“Put fetters on his hands and feet, with his legs distended in the stocks to the fourth hole, and let nobody come to dress his wounds. Bring the third to the bar.”

Demetrius, the centurion, said: “Here he stands, my lord.” MAXIMUS—“What is thy name?” ANDRONICUS—“My true name is Christian, and the name by which I am commonly known among men, is Andronicus.” MAXIMUS—“What is your family?” ANDRONICUS—“My father is one of the first rank in Ephesus.” MAXIMUS—“Adore the gods, and obey the emperors, who are our fathers and masters.” ANDRONICUS—“The devil is your father while you do his works.” MAXIMUS—“Youth makes you insolent; I have torments ready.” ANDRONICUS—“I am prepared for whatever may happen.” MAXIMUS—“Strip him naked, gird him, and stretch him on the rack.” Demetrius, the centurion, said to the martyr: “Obey, my friend, before thy body is torn and mangled.” ANDRONICUS—“It is better for me to have my body tormented, than to lose my soul.” MAXIMUS—“Sacrifice before I put thee to the most cruel death.” ANDRONICUS—“I have never sacrificed to demons from my infancy, and I will not now begin.” Athanasius, the cornicularius, or clerk to the army, said to him: “I am old enough to be thy father, and therefore take the liberty to advise thee: obey the governor.” ANDRONICUS—“You give me admirable advice, indeed, to sacrifice to devils.” MAXIMUS—“Wretch, art thou insensible to torments? Thou dost not yet know what it is to suffer fire and razors. When thou has felt them, thou wilt perhaps, give over thy folly.” ANDRONICUS—“This folly is expedient for us who hope in Jesus Christ. Earthly wisdom leads to eternal death.” MAXIMUS—“Tear his limbs with the utmost violence.” ANDRONICUS—“I have done no evil, yet you torment me like a murderer. I contend for that piety which is due to the true God.” MAXIMUS—“If thou hadst but the least sense of piety, thou wouldst adore the gods whom the emperors so religiously worship.” ANDRONICUS—“It is not piety, but impiety to abandon the true God, and to adore brass and marble.” MAXIMUS—“Execrable villain, are then the emperors guilty of impieties? Hoist him again, and gore his sides.” ANDRONICUS—“I am in your hands; do with my body what you please.” MAXIMUS—“Lay salt upon his wounds, and rub his sides with broken tiles.” ANDRONICUS—“Your torments have refreshed my body.” MAXIMUS—“I will cause thee to die gradually.” ANDRONICUS—“Your menaces do not terrify me; my courage is above all that your malice can invent.” MAXIMUS—“Put a heavy chain about his neck, and another upon his legs, and keep him in close prison.” Thus ended the first examination; the second was held at Mopsuestia.

Flavius Clemens Numerianus Maximus, governor of Cilicia, sitting on his tribunal, said to Demetrius the centurion: “Bring forth the impious wretches who follow the religion of the Christians.” Demetrius said: “Here they are, my lord.” Maximus said to Terachus: “Old age is respected in many, on account of the good sense and prudence that generally attend it; wherefore, if you have made a proper use of the time allowed you for reflection, I presume your own discretion has wrought in you a change of sentiments; as a proof of which, it is required that you sacrifice to the gods, which cannot fail of recommending you to the esteem of your superiors.” TARACHUS—“I am a Christian, and I wish you and the emperors would leave your blindness, and embrace the truth which leads to life.” MAXIMUS—“Break his jaws with a stone, and bid him leave off his folly.” TARACHUS—“This folly is true wisdom.” MAXIMUS—“Now they have loosened all thy teeth, wretch, take pity on thyself, come to the altar, and sacrifice to the gods, to prevent severer treatment.” TARACHUS—“Though you cut my body into a thousand pieces, you will not be able to shake my resolution; because it is Christ who gives me strength to stand my ground.” MAXIMUS—“Wretch, accursed by the gods, I will find means to drive out thy folly. Bring in a pan of burning coals, and hold his hands in the fire till they are burnt.” TARACHUS—“I fear not your temporal fire, which soon passes; but I dread eternal flames.” MAXIMUS—“See, thy hands are well baked, they are consumed by the fire; is it not time for thee to grow wise? Sacrifice.” TARACHUS—“If you have any other torments in store for me, employ them; I hope I shall be able to withstand all your attacks.” MAXIMUS—“Hang him by the feet, with his head over a great smoke.” TARACHUS—“After having proved an overmatch for your fire, I am not afraid of your smoke.” MAXIMUS—“Bring vinegar and salt, and force them up his nostrils.” TARACHUS—“Your vinegar is sweet to me, and your salt insipid.” MAXIMUS—“Put mustard into the vinegar, and thrust it up his nose.” TARACHUS—“Your ministers impose upon you; they have given me honey instead of mustard.” MAXIMUS—“Enough for the present; I will make it my business to invent fresh tortures to bring thee to thy senses; I will not be baffled.” TARACHUS—“You will find me prepared for the attack.” MAXIMUS—“Away with him to the dungeon. Bring in another.”

Demetrius, the centurion, said: “My lord, here is Probus.” MAXIMUS—“Well, Probus, hast thou considered the matter; and art thou disposed to sacrifice to the gods, after the example of the emperors?” PROBUS—“I appear here again with fresh vigor. The torments I have endured have hardened my body; and my soul is strengthened in her courage, and proof against all you can inflict. I have a living God in heaven: him I serve and adore, and no other.” MAXIMUS—“What! villain, are not ours living gods?” PROBUS—“Can stones and wood, the workmanship of a statuary be living gods? You know not what you do when you sacrifice to them.” MAXIMUS—“What insolence! At least sacrifice to the great god Jupiter. I will excuse you as to the rest.” PROBUS—“Do not you blush to call him god who was guilty of adulteries, incests, and other most enormous crimes?” MAXIMUS—“Beat his mouth with a stone, and bid him not blaspheme.” PROBUS—“Why this evil treatment? I have spoken no worse of Jupiter than they do who serve him. I utter no lie; I speak the truth, as you yourself well know.” MAXIMUS—“Heat bars of iron, and apply them to his feet.” PROBUS—“This fire is without heat; at least, I feel none.” MAXIMUS—“Hoist him on the rack, and let him be scourged with thongs of raw leather till his shoulders are flayed.” PROBUS—“All this does me no harm: invent something new, and you will see the power of God who is in me and strengthens me.” MAXIMUS—“Shave his head, and lay burning coals upon it.” PROBUS—“You have burnt my head and my feet. You see, notwithstanding, that I still continue God’s servant, and disregard your torments. He will save me; your gods can only destroy.” MAXIMUS—“Dost thou not see all those that worship them standing about my tribunal, honored by the gods and the emperors? They look upon thee and thy companions with contempt.” PROBUS—“Believe me, unless they repent and serve the living God, they will all perish, because against the voice of their own conscience they adore idols.” MAXIMUS—“Beat his face, that he may learn to say the gods, and not God.” PROBUS—“You unjustly destroy my mouth, and disfigure my face because I speak the truth.” MAXIMUS—“I will also cause thy blasphemous tongue to be plucked out to make thee comply.” PROBUS—“Besides the tongue which serves me for utterance, I have an internal, an immortal tongue, which is out of your reach.” MAXIMUS—“Take him to prison. Let the third come in.”

Demetrius, the centurion, said: “He is here.” MAXIMUS—“Your companions, Andronicus, were at first obstinate; but gained nothing thereby but torments and disgrace, and have been at last compelled to obey. They shall receive considerable recompenses. Therefore, to escape the like torments, sacrifice to the gods, and thou shalt be honored accordingly. But if thou refusest, I swear by the immortal gods, and by the invincible emperors that thou shalt not escape out of my hands with thy life.” ANDRONICUS—“Why do you endeavor to deceive me with lies? They have not renounced the true God. And had that been so, you should never find me guilty of such an impiety. God, whom I adore, has clothed me with the arms of faith; and Jesus Christ, my Saviour, is my strength; so that I neither fear your power, nor that of your masters, nor of your gods. For a trial, cause all your engines and instruments to be displayed before my eyes, and employed on my body.” MAXIMUS—“Bind him to the stakes, and scourge him with raw thongs.” ANDRONICUS—“There is nothing new or extraordinary in this torment.” The clerk, Athanasius, said: “Thy whole body is but one wound from head to foot, and dost thou count this nothing?” ANDRONICUS—“They who love the living God, make very small account of all this.” MAXIMUS—“Rub his back with salt.” ANDRONICUS—“Give orders, I pray you, that they do not spare me, that being well seasoned I may be in no danger of putrefaction, and may be the better able to withstand your torments.” MAXIMUS—“Turn him, and beat him upon the belly, to open afresh his first wounds.” ANDRONICUS—“You saw when I was brought last before your tribunal, how I was perfectly cured of the wounds I received by the first day’s tortures: he that cured me then, can cure me a second time.” Maximus, addressing himself to the guards of the prison: “Villains and traitors,” said he, “did I not strictly forbid you to suffer any one to see them, or dress their wounds? Yet, see here!” Pegasus, the jailer, said, “I swear by your greatness that no one has applied any thing whatever to his wounds, or had admittance to him; and he has been kept in chains in the most retired part of the prison on purpose. If you catch me in a lie I’ll forfeit my head.” MAXIMUS—“How comes it, then, that there is nothing to be seen of his wounds?” The jailer: “I swear by your high birth that I know not how they have been healed.” ANDRONICUS—“Senseless man, the Physician that has healed me is no less powerful than he is tender and charitable. You know him not. He cures not by the application of medicines, but by his word alone. Though he dwells in heaven, he is present everywhere, but you know him not.” MAXIMUS—“Thy idle prating will do thee no service; sacrifice, or thou art a lost man.” ANDRONICUS—“I do not change my answers. I am not a child, to be wheedled or frightened.” MAXIMUS—“Do not flatter thyself that thou shalt get the better of me.” ANDRONICUS—“Nor shall you ever make us yield to your threats.” MAXIMUS—“My authority shall not be baffled by thee.” ANDRONICUS—“Nor shall it ever be said that the cause of Jesus Christ is vanquished by your authority.” MAXIMUS—“Let me have several kinds of tortures in readiness against my next sitting. Put this man in prison loaded with chains, and let no one be admitted to visit them in the dungeon.” The third examination was held at Anazarbus. In it Tarachus answered first with his usual constancy, saying to all threats that a speedy death would finish his victory and complete his happiness; and that long torments would procure him the greater recompense. When Maximus had caused him to be bound and stretched on the rack, he said: “I could allege the rescript of Dioclesian, which forbids judges to put military men to the rack. But waive my privilege, lest you should suspect me of cowardice.” Maximus said: “Thou flatterest thyself with the hopes of having thy body embalmed by Christian women, and wrapped up in perfumes after thou art dead, but I will take care to dispose of thy remains.” Tarachus replied, “Do what you please with my body, not only while it is living, but also after my death.” Maximus ordered his lips, cheeks, and whole face, to be slashed and cut. Tarachus said: “You have disfigured my face, but have added new beauty to my soul. I fear not any of your inventions, for I am clothed with the divine armor.” The tyrant ordered spits* to be heated and applied red hot to his armpits, then his ears to be cut off. At which the martyr said: “My heart will not be less attentive to the word of God.” Maximus said: “Tear the skin off his head, then cover it with burning coals.” Tarachus replied: “Though you should order my whole body to be flayed, you will not be able to separate me from my God.” MAXIMUS—“Apply the red-hot spits once more to his armpits and sides.” TARACHUS—“O God of heaven, look down upon me, and be my judge.” The governor then sent him back to prison to be reserved for the public shows the day following, and called for the next.

Probus being brought forth, Maximus again exhorted him to sacrifice; but after many words ordered him to be bound and hung up by the feet: then red-hot spits to be applied to his sides and back. Probus said—“My body is in your power. May the Lord of heaven and earth vouchsafe to consider my patience, and the humility of my heart.” MAXIMUS—“The God whom thou implorest, has delivered thee into my hands.” PROBUS—“He loves men.” MAXIMUS—“Open his mouth, and pour in some of the wine which has been offered upon the altars, and thrust some of the sanctified meat into his mouth.” PROBUS—“See, O Lord, the violence they offer me, and judge my cause.” MAXIMUS—“Now thou seest that after suffering a thousand torments rather than to sacrifice, thou hast nevertheless partook of a sacrifice.” PROBUS—“You have done no great feat in making me taste these abominable offerings against my will.” MAXIMUS—“No matter; it is now done: promise now to do it voluntarily and thou shalt be released.” PROBUS—“God forbid that I should yield; but know that if thou should force into me all the abominable offerings of your whole altars, I should be no ways defiled: for God sees the violence which I suffer.” MAXIMUS—“Heat the spits again, and burn the calves of his legs with them.” Then he said to Probus: “There is not a sound part in thy whole body, and still thou persistest in thy folly. Wretch, what canst thou hope for?” PROBUS—“I have abandoned my body over to you that my soul may remain whole and sound.” MAXIMUS—“Make some sharp nails red hot, and pierce his hands with them.” PROBUS—“O my Saviour, I return you most hearty thanks that you have been pleased to make me share in your own sufferings.” MAXIMUS—“The great number of thy torments make thee more foolish.” PROBUS—“Would to God your soul was not blind, and in darkness.” MAXIMUS—“Now thou hast lost the use of all thy members, thou complainest of me for not having deprived thee of thy sight. Prick him in the eyes, but by little and little, till you have bored out the organs of his sight.” PROBUS—“Behold I am now blind. Thou hast destroyed the eyes of my body, but canst not take away those of my soul.” MAXIMUS—“Thou continuest still to argue, but thou art condemned to eternal darkness.” PROBUS—“Did you know the darkness in which your soul is plunged, you would see yourself much more miserable than I am.” MAXIMUS—“Thou hast no more use of thy body than a dead man, yet thou talkest still.” PROBUS—“So long as any vital heal continues to animate the remains which you have left me of this body, I will never cease to speak of my God, to praise and to thank him.” MAXIMUS—“What! dost thou hope to survive these torments? Canst thou flatter thyself that I shall allow thee one moment’s respite?” PROBUS—“I expect nothing from you but a cruel death, and I ask of God only the grace to persevere in the confession of his holy name to the end.” MAXIMUS—“I will leave thee to languish, as such an impious wretch deserves. Take him hence. Let the prisoners be closely guarded that none of their friends who would congratulate with them, may find access. I design them for the shows. Let Andronicus be brought in. He is the most resolute of the three.”

The answers and behavior of the martyrs were usually very respectful towards their impious judges and the most unjust tyrants; and this is a duty, and the spirit of the gospel. Nevertheless, by an extraordinary impulse of the Holy Ghost, some on certain occasions have deviated from this rule. St. Paul called his judge a whited wall, and threatened him with the anger of God.3 In the same manner some martyrs have reproached their judges, of whom St. Austin says:4 “They were patient in torments, faithful in their confession, constant lovers of truth in all their words. But they cast certain arrows of God against the impious, and provoked them to anger; but they wounded many to salvation.” In the answers of St. Andronicus we find many harsh expressions, injurious to the ministers of justice, which we must regard as just reproaches of their impiety, and darts employed by God to sting and awake them. The governor pressed Andronicus again to comply, adding, that his two companions had at length sacrificed to the gods, and to the emperors themselves. The martyr replied: “This is truly the part of an adorer of the god of lies; and by this imposture I know that the men are like the gods whom they serve. May God judge you, O worker of miquity.” Maximus ordered rolls of paper to be made, and set on fire upon the belly of the martyr; then bodkins to be heated, and laid red hot between his fingers. Finding him still unshaken, he said to him: “Do not expect to die at once. I will keep thee alive till the time of the shows, that thou mayest behold thy limbs devoured one after another by cruel beasts.” Andronicus answered: “You are more inhuman than the tigers, and more insuitable with blood than the most barbarous murderers.” MAXIMUS—“Open his mouth, and put some of the sanctified meat into it, and pour some of the wine into it which hath been offered to the gods.” ANDRONICUS—“Be hold, O Lord, the violence which is offered me.” MAXIMUS—“What will thou do now? Thou hast tasted of the offerings taken from the altar. Thou art now initiated in the mysteries of the gods.” ANDRONICUS—“Know, tyrant, that the soul is not defiled when she suffers involuntarily what she condemns. God, who sees the secrets of hearts, knows that mine has not consented to this abomination.” MAXIMUS—“How long will this phrensy delude thy imagination? It will not deliver thee out of my hands.” ANDRONICUS—“God will deliver me when he pleases.” MAXIMUS—“This is a fresh extravagance: I will cause that tongue of thine to be cut out to put an end to thy prating.” ANDRONICUS—“I ask it as a favor that those lips and tongue with which you imagine I have concurred in partaking of the meats and wine offered to idols, may be cut off.” MAXIMUS—“Pluck out his teeth, and cut out his blasphemous tongue to the very root; burn them, and then scatter the ashes in the air, that none of his impious companions or of the women may be able to gather them up to keep as something precious or holy.* Let him be carried to his dungeon to serve for food to the wild beasts in the amphitheatre.”

The trial of the three martyrs being thus concluded, Maximus sent for Terentianus, the chiliarch or pontiff, and first magistrate of the community in Cilicia, who had the care of the public games and spectacles, and gave him orders to exhibit a public show the next day. In the morning, a prodigious multitude of people flocked to the amphitheatre, which was a mile distant from the town of Anazarbus. The governor came thither about noon Many gladiators and others were slain in the combats of the gladiators and by the beasts, and their bodies were devoured by them, or lay slaughtered on the ground. We, say the authors of the acts, came, but stood on an adjoining mountain behind, looking over the walls of the amphitheatre, waiting the issue in great fear and alarms. The governor at length sent some of his guards to bring the Christians whom he had sentenced to the beasts. The martyrs were in so piteous a condition by their torments that, far from being able to walk, they could not so much as stir their mangled bodies. But they were carried on the back of porters, and thrown down in the pit of the amphitheatre below the seat of the governor. We advanced, say the authors, as near as we could on an eminence behind, and concealed ourselves by piling stones before us as high as our breasts, that we might not be known or observed. The sight of our brethren in so dismal a condition, made us shed abundance of tears: even many of the infidel spectators could not contain theirs. For no sooner were the martyrs laid down, but an almost universal deep silence followed at the sight of such dismal objects, and the people began openly to murmur against the governor for his barbarous cruelty. Many even left the shows, and returned to the city: which provoked the governor, and he ordered more soldiers to guard all the avenues to stop any from departing, and to take notice of all who attempted it, that they might be afterwards called to their trial by him. At the same time, he commanded a great number of beasts to be let loose out of their dens into the pit. These fierce creatures rushed out, but all stopped near the doors of their lodges, and would not advance to hurt the martyrs. Maximus, in a fury, called for the keepers, and caused one hundred strokes with cudgels to be given them, making them responsible for the tameness of their lions and tigers, because they were less cruel than himself. He threatened even to crucify them unless they let out the most ravenous of their beasts. They turned out a great bear which that very day had killed three men. He walked up slowly towards the martyrs, and began to lick the wounds of Andronicus. That martyr leaned his head on the bear, and endeavored to provoke him, but in vain. Maximus possessed himself no longer, but ordered the beast to be immediately killed. The bear received the strokes, and fell quietly before the feet of Andronicus.5 Terentianus seeing the rage of the governor, and trembling for himself, immediately ordered a most furious lion less to be let out. At the sight of her, all the spectators turned pale, and her terrible roarings made the bravest men tremble on their safe seats. Yet, when she same up to the saints, who lay stretched on the sand, she laid her self down at the feet of St. Tarachus, and licked them, quite forgetting he natural ferocity. Maximus, foaming with rage, commanded her to be pricked with goads. She then arose, and raged about in a furious manner, roaring terribly, and affrighting all the spectators; who, seeing that she had broke down part of the door of her lodge, which the governor had ordered to be shut, cried out earnestly that she might be again driven into her lodge. The governor, therefore, called for the confectors or gladiators to dispatch the martyrs with their swords; which they did. Maximus commanded the bodies to be intermixed with those of the gladiators who had been slain, and also to be guarded that night by six soldiers, lest the Christians should carry them off. The night was very dark, and a violent storm of thunder and rain dispersed the guards. The faithful distinguished the three bodies by a miraculous star or ray of light which streamed on each of them. They carried off the precious treasures on their backs, and hid them in a hollow cave in the neighboring mountains, where the governor was not able, by any search he could make, to find them. He severely chastised the guards who had abandoned their station. Three fervent Christians, Marcian, Felix, and Verus, retired into this cave of the rock, being resolved to spend there all the remainder of their lives. The governor left Anazarbus three days after. The Christians of that city sent this relation to the church of Iconium, de siring it might be communicated to the faithful of Pisidia and Pamphylia for their edification. The three martyrs finished their glorious course on the 11th of October, on which day their names occur in the Roman and other martyrologies.

The heroism of the martyrs consists not only in the constancy and invincible courage with which they chose to suffer, rather than to sin against God, all the torments which the most inhuman tyrants were able to invent and inflict upon them one after another, but also in the patience, charity, meekness, and humility, with which they were animated under their sufferings. In our daily and hourly trials we have continual opportunities of exercising these virtues. If we fail even in small things, and show ourselves strangers to the Christian spirit, can we assume, without blushing at ourselves, the sacred name of disciples of Christ?

OCTOBER 11 — ST. GUMMAR, C. CALLED BY THE FRENCH, GOMER

This saint was a native of Emblehem, a village three miles from Lire, of user, in Brabant. His parents were very rich, and related to king Pepin, and took care he should be instructed in the maxims of our holy religion, and in the practice of piety, though he had not the advantage of a literary education. He was from his cradle meek, affable, exceeding compassionate, religious, and devout. Pepin, then mayor of the palace, and soon after king of France, called him to his court. The saint preserved there his innocence: from a spirit of religion he was punctual and faithful in every duty of his station, and an enemy to vanity, ambition, and dissimulation, (which is almost the soul of a court life,) also to pleasure, luxury, and passion: he was rigorous in his fasts and other mortifications, exact and fervent in all his exertions of devotion, and most beneficent and liberal in works of mercy. It was his study, as much as possible, never to give the least trouble or do the least prejudice to any one, and to serve, and do good, as much as lay in hi-power, to all men. Pepin, though tainted with ambition, was a lover of up rightness and virtue; and being acquainted with the probity and piety of Gummar, raised him to the highest posts in his court. After some time, this king proposed a match between him and a lady of great birth and fortune named Gwinmary, in Latin, Grimnaria. Both parties acquiesced, and the marriage was solemnized. As God does every thing for Ids elect, and the government of the universe is subordinate to the predestination of his saints, so this affair, which seemed unhappy in the eyes of the world, was directed by him to perfect the virtue of his servant, and exalt him to the glory of the saints Gwinmary was most extravagant and perverse in her humor; haughty, whimsical, and altogether ungovernable. Gummar’s whole life became from that time a train of continual trials, which were so much the sharper as the person from whom he suffered them was the nearer and dearer to him. We are prepared for evil treatment from strangers or enemies; we are animated by it, and we easily conquer ourselves so far as to triumph in it. But when bosom friends, from whom we have reason to expect our greatest comfort and support, seem to have no other satisfaction but continually to wound and persecute us: this is one of the severest of trials, under which it is hard for the firmest mind to maintain its ground without sometimes failing in some of the duties of charity, patience, and meekness.

This was the heroic virtue which Gummar practised for several years, seeking all his comfort and strength in God by constant exercises of penance and devotion, and endeavoring by all means which Christian prudence and charity could suggest, to inspire his wife with sentiments agreeable to reason and religion. Being called upon by king Pepin to attend him in his wars, first in Lombardy, afterwards in Saxony, and lastly in Aquitaine, he was absent eight years. Returning home, he found that his wife had thrown all things into the utmost disorder and confusion; and that scarce any one among his servants, vassals, or tenants had escaped her unjust oppressions. Gummar made to every one of them full restitution and satisfaction; and, that he might have a place of quiet and retirement, in order to attend his private devotions, built the chapel called Nivesdone. Gwinmary was at length so far overcome by his heroic patience and virtue, as to be ashamed of her past conduct, and to seem penitent. This change, however, was only exterior; and her furious passions, which were only smothered for a time, not healed, broke out again with greater rage than ever. Gummar studied to reclaim her; but at length obtained her consent to embrace a retired penitential life, in order to prepare himself for his passage to eternity. Having built himself a cell by his chapel near his own house, he gave himself up to holy contemplation and to the most perfect practices of penance and mortification. In the mean time, he took all possible care of his wife and family being solicitous, in the first place, to bring them over to virtuous courses Herein he so far succeeded by perseverance that his wife became a remarkable penitent. In this manner he served God nine years, and went to receive the recompense of his patience and charity in 774. This village of which he was lord, was then called Nivesdone, afterwards Ledo, and now Lire: from the devotion of the people to this saint, it became a considerable town. The saint’s relics were preserved for several ages in the above-mentioned chapel which he had built, and were visited by the bishop’s order in 1369 and 1406. The saint’s shrine was plundered by the Calvinists; but the relics were saved by Catholics, and are kept in the collegiate church at Lire. He is honored in Brabant with singular veneration, and named on the 11th of October, in the Roman Martyrology. See his life in Surius, Miræus and Gramaye, Antiqu., Antwerp, c. 8; Vite de Santi, t. 2, p. 251.

OCTOBER 11 — ST. ETHELBURGE, OR EDILBURGE, V. ABBESS

This saint was an English Saxon princess, sister to St. Erconwald, bishop of London. To the end that she might live entirely to herself and God, she in her youth renounced the world, and neither riches nor the tempting splendor of a court could shake her resolution; for the world loses all its influence upon a mind which is wholly taken up with the great truths of faith and eternal salvation. A soul which is truly penetrated with them, listens to no consideration in the choice of a state of life but to what virtue and piety suggest, and being supported by those noble principles which religion inspires, whether she is placed in the world or in a religious state, whether in opulence or poverty, amidst honors or in contempt, equally carries all her desires to their proper mark, and studies with constancy and perseverance, to acquit herself of every duty of her state, and to act up to the dignity of her heavenly vocation. This makes saints who live in the world the best princes, the best subjects, the best parents, the best neighbors, the most dutiful children, and the most diligent and faithful tradesmen or servants. The same principle renders them in a cloister the most humble, the most obedient, the most devout, and the most fervent and exact in every point of monastic discipline. St. Erconwald considered only the perfection of his sister’s virtue, not flesh and blood, when he appointed her abbess of the great nunnery which he had founded at Barking, in Essex. Ethelburge, by her example and spirit, sweetly led on all the chaste spouses of Christ in that numerous house in the paths of true virtue and Christian perfection. How entirely they were dead both to the world and themselves, and how perfectly divine charity reigned in their souls, appeared by the ardor with which they unanimously sighed after the dissolution of their earthly tabernacle, desiring to be clothed with immortality; in the mean time exerting continually their whole strength and all their affections that they might lot be found naked when they should appear before God. When a raging pestilence swept off a part of this community, in 664, all rejoiced in their last moments, and thought even every day and every hour long before they went to the possession of their God, to love and praise whom with all their powers, and without interruption for eternity, was the pure and vehement desire with which they were inflamed; and the living envied the dying. The comfort of those that survived was in the divine will, and in knowing their retardment could be but for a moment, that they might labor perfectly to purify their hearts before they were united to their friends, the saints, and swallowed up in a glorious immortality. St. Ethelburge survived this mortality for the support and comfort of the rest. Having sent before her so many saints to heaven, she met her own death with a great spirit, and her glory was manifested by miraculous visions. See Bede,1. 4, c. 6–10. St. Ethelburge’s body was honored at Nunnaminstre in Winchester. Leland Collect, t. 1, p. 10.

OCTOBER 11 — ST. CANICUS, OR KENNY, ABBOT IN IRELAND

The Irish Annals fix the birth of this illustrious saint in 527, and his death in 599. In his youth he studied some time in Wales under a celebrated and holy abbot named Docus, and afterwards in Ireland under St. Finian, to whose famous school, in his monastery of Cluain-Irraird the lovers of true wisdom repaired from all sides. The zeal and labors of St. Kenny, in propagating the practice of Christian perfection throughout Ireland, have ranked him among the most glorious saints whose virtue has been the greatest ornament of that island. St. Kenny was intimately connected by holy friendship with St. Columkille, whom he sometimes visited in the isle of Hij. He founded himself the great monastery of Achadbho, (or The Ox’s Field,) which grew up into a town, and was formerly the seat of the bishops of Ossory, who now reside at Kilkenny, a city which takes its name from this saint, that word signifying Cell or Church of Kenny. See Usher, Antiq. Britan. pp. 493, 495, &c.; Adamnan, Vit. S. Columb.1. 1, c. 4,1. 3, c. 17; Sir James Ware, Antiqu. Hibern. p. 314.

OCTOBER 12 — ST. WILFRID, BISHOP OF YORK, C

From his life written by Eddi Stephani, precentor of the church of Canterbury, In the same age, prior to Bede, ap. Mabill. Act. Ben. t. 3, p. 170, t. 5, p. 670. Bede, Hist.1. 3, c. 25, &c. Also Fredegodus, by order of St. Odo of Canterbury, and Eadmer, secretary to St. Anselm, wrote his life. Among the moderns, Mr. Peck has complied his life at large In his history of Stamford,1. 2. See also Johnson’s Collection of English Canons, and Mr. Smith’s App. In Bedam, n. 18, 19. His life In the English-Sexon language, MSS. Bibl. Cotton. Julius, A. X.

A. D. 709.

ST. WILFRID, in English-Saxon Willferder, to whose zealous labors several churches both in our island and abroad were indebted for their conversion to Christ, was born in the kingdom of Northumberland, towards the year 634. At fourteen years of age he was sent to the monastery of Lindisfarne, that he might be trained up in the study of the sacred sciences, in which he discovered an application, penetration, and maturity of judgment beyond his years. A desire of greater improvement than he could attain to in that house, where he perceived the discipline that was practised to be imperfect, put him upon a project of travelling into France and Italy. He made some stay at Canterbury, where he studied the Roman discipline, and learned the psalter according to the Roman version, instead of that of St. Jerom, which he had used before. In 653, according to Mr. Smith, St. Bonnet Biscop, his countryman, passed through Kent on his first journey to Rome; and St. Wilfrid, who had set out with the same design,1 crossed the seas with him, but with an intention to visit the most famous monasteries in his way, the better to instruct himself in the rules of Christian perfection. At Lyons they were detained a whole year by St. Delphinus, surnamed Annemund, archbishop of that city, who conceived so great an affection for Wilfrid that he offered him his niece in marriage, and promised to procure him a considerable employment; but the saint continued steadfast in the resolution he had taken to devote himself to God, and proceeded on his journey the year following. At Rome he devoutly visited every day the tombs of the martyrs, and contracted a friendship with Boniface, the archdeacon, who was a very pious and a very learned man; he was secretary to the holy pope St. Martin, and took as much delight in instructing young Wilfrid as if he had been his own child. He carefully explained to him the four gospels, and the right calculation of Easter against the erroneous practice of the Britons and Irish; likewise the other rules of ecclesiastical discipline. At length he presented him to the pope, who gave him his blessing by the imposition of his hands, and prayer. After this, Wilfrid left Rome, from whence he brought relics, and returned to Lyons to the archbishop, whom he reverenced as his father. He stayed three years at Lyons, and received the ecclesiastical tonsure from St. Delphinius, who desired to make him his heir; but was put to death at Challons upon the Saone, by the order of Ebroin, in 658. He is honored at Lyons as a martyr on the 29th of September, being commonly called St. Chaumont. Wilfrid accompanied him to the place of execution, and would have been glad to have died for him or with him. After he had interred his spiritual father, he returned into England laden with relics.

Alcfrid, natural son of Oswi, who at that time reigned over the Deiri, (his father contenting himself with Bernicia,) being informed that Wilfrid had been instructed in the discipline of the Roman church, sent for him, and received him as an angel from heaven. After he had discoursed with him concerning several customs of that church, he conjured him to continue with him, to instruct him and his people in ecclesiastical discipline. This St. Wilfrid consented to, and the prince entered into an intimate friendship with him, and gave him land at Rippon to found a monastery upon, which our saint governed and richly endowed. Assisted by the munificence of the king, he distributed very considerable sums in alms, was exceedingly beloved and respected on account of his virtues, and was even looked upon as a prophet. Agilbert, bishop of the West-Saxons, coming to pay a visit to king Oswi and his son, Alcfrid entreated him to ordain Wilfrid priest, that he might remain always near his person. Agilbert said, that a person of such merit ought to be promoted to a bishopric; and ordained him priest in 663, in the monastery of Rippon. The Northumbrians had relapsed into idolatry after the death of king Edwin; but St. Oswald obtained St. Aidan, the holy Irish monk of Hij, for bishop, and planted the faith again in that kingdom. St. Aidan resided, not at York, as St. Paulinus had done, but at Lindisfarne. Finan and Colman, his countrymen, succeeded him, and had all the kingdom of Northumberland for their diocese. These Scots or Irish followed an erroneous calculation of Easter; and king Oswi, who had been instructed by them, and his queen Eanflede, daughter of Edwin, who came from Kent, sometimes kept Lent and Easter at different times in the same court. The Scots and Britons herein were not schismatics, as Rapin and some others pretend; for they did not coincide with the Quartodecimans, who had been condemned by the church, nor had this difference between the Scots and the universal church then proceeded to a breach of communion. To put an end to this dispute, in 664 conference was held in the great monastery of St. Hilda, at Streaneshalch, now Whitby, before the kings Oswi and Alcfrid. Colman brought thither his Scottish energy on the other side, Agilbert, bishop of West-Sex or Dorchester, had with him Agatho, a priest from Paris, Romanus, the abbot Wilfrid, and the deacon James. Colman alleged the example of his predecessors, and of St. Columba himself, and pretended that practice to have been established in Asia by St. John the Evangelist; which assertion it would have been a difficult task to prove.* Wilfrid replied, that the agreement of all the churches in Africa, Asia, Egypt, Greece, Gaul, Rome, Italy, and the rest of the world, ought to have more weight than that of the Picts and Britons in a part of the two remotest islands of the ocean; that St. John could not reject at once all the observances of the law, so long as the church judaized in some points; but that after the death of St. John the custom which St. Peter established at Rome was observed by his successors in Asia, and by the universal church, and was commanded by the Nicene council; that the Britons and Picts neither followed St. Peter nor St. John,—neither the law nor the gospel; that Columba and the rest of their ancestors were without fault, because they knew no better; but that they were inexcusable who refused to be instructed He added that Christ said to St. Peter: Thou art Peter, &c.1 Hereupon king Oswi said: “Do you all acknowledge, of both parties, that our Lord said this particularly to Peter, and that the Lord gave him the keys of the kingdom of heaven?” They replied: “We acknowledge it.” Then he concluded: “I declare, that I will not oppose this keeper of the gate of heaven, and that I will obey his orders to the utmost of my power, lest he shut that gate against me.” This resolution of the king was approved by the whole assembly. Rapin confesses that Oswi acknowledged a prerogative of St. Peter above the rest of the apostles, and that on this account he preferred the practice which he had established at Rome, to that which he thought derived from St. John.2 It is evident from the very silence of both parties, that the Scots or Irish and Britons never called in question the supremacy of the bishop of Rome. Another difference, which regarded the tonsure, was agitated in this conference. The Romans made it quite round the head, to resemble, they said, our Lord’s crown of thorns. This was called St. Peter’s tonsure: the other, called by dorision Simon Magus’s, was only a semicircle shaved from ear to ear above the forehead, not reaching to the hinder part, which was covered with hair.† Bede mentions no decision with regard to this point, which was left to the custom of each place. St. Cedd. bishop of Essex or London, who was present at this conference, and being a native of Deira, had followed the Scottish customs, declared upon the spot that he embraced the Roman discipline. But Colman said he would consult with his brethren, the monks of Jona, and retired to them with his Scottish priests. Tuda was consecrated bishop of Northumberland in his room, but soon after died of a pestilence which raged in England in 664. He had been educated and ordained by the Southern Irish, but conformed to the Roman discipline; he was much lamented on account of his virtue. King Alcfrid desired to have his own priest Wilfrid placed in the episcopal see, and sent him into France to receive consecration at the hands of his old friend Agilbert, who, seeing his diocese of West-Sex divided, and another bishop, named Wina, placed at Venta, called by the Saxons Wintacestir, now Winchester, returned to France, which was his native country, where the bishopric of Paris was given him. Wilfrid being absent a long time on this journey, Oswi caused St. Ceadda, or Chad, abbot of Lestingau, a disciple of St. Aidan, to be ordained bishop. The see of Canterbury being vacant by the death of Deusdedit, he was consecrated by Wina, bishop of Winchester, who was the only bishop at that time in Great Britain that had been canonically ordained. Agilbert joyfully received Wilfrid, and, with twelve other bishops performed the ceremony of his ordination with great solemnity at Compeigne. St. Wilfrid was then in the thirtieth year of his age, in 664; he was carried by the bishops in a golden chair, according to the custom of the Gauls.

At his return into England he would not dispute the election of St. Chad; but retired to Rippon, which monastery he made his residence for three years, though he was often called into Mercia by king Wulfere to ordain leacons and priests, and to perform other episcopal functions. Oswi having defeated and slain Penda in 655, conquered all that kingdom; but, three years after, made Peada, Penda’s son, to whom he had given his daughter in marriage, king of that part which lay south of the Trent; but Peada dying soon after, Oswi again united that country to his own dominions. Not long after the Mercians took up arms, and placed Wulfere, Penda’s second son, upon the throne in 659. This prince was for some time a pagan, or at least favored the pagans; but at length became a zealous propagator of the faith, and governed by the counsels of St. Wilfrid, who founded monasteries and churches in several parts of Mercia. Mr. Peck endeavors to prove,3 that the priory of St. Leonard, about a quarter of a mile out of Stamford, was built by St. Wilfrid, though rebuilt, in honor of St. Leonard, by William bishop of Durham, in the reign of the Conqueror, and only then dedicated in honor of St. Leonard.* St. Theodorus, archbishop of Canterbury, in his visitation, found the election of St. Chad to have been irregular, and removed him; but, charmed with his humility and virtue, placed him in the see of Litchfield. At the same time he put St. Wilfrid in possession of the see of York, in 669, before the death of Oswi, which happened in 670. Upon his demise, Alcfrid was obliged by the people to leave the throne to Egfrid, the eldest legitimate son of Oswi. St. Wilfrid consecrated the great church of St. Peter, which he had built at Rippon, in presence of the new king, in 670; and afterwards that of St. Andrew at Hexham, and several others Being a man of most persuasive oratory and strict virtue, he promoted everywhere religion and piety with incredible success. He invited out of Kent the precentor Eddi Stephani, who became from that time his constant companion, and afterwards wrote his life. With his assistance the saint established, in all the churches of the north, the use of plain-song, which St. Gregory the Great instituted in the church-music, and admirably well adapted it to every different part of the divine office, as Franchini observes;* in which it is easier and more becoming than that which is performed with a harmonious discord of voices and variation of melody.4 The monastic state was a principal object of St. Wilfrid’s care; and this he settled among the Midland and Northern English, as St. Austin had established it in Kent.5

King Egfrid had taken to wife St. Audry, who preferring a religious life, according to the liberty which the church has always understood, by constant tradition, to be allowed by the divine law before cohabitation, St. Wilfrid endeavored at first to engage her to change her resolution; but finding her inflexible in it, at length consented to give her the veil. This action exceedingly provoked the king; and his new queen Ermenberga employed every base and little means entirely to ruin him in the opinion of her husband. In order to undermine him, a project was set on foot for dividing his bishopric, after the holy prelate had spent ten years in settling Christianity in it. Theodorus, the archbishop of Canterbury, and metropolitan of all England, was gained by specious pretences, and parcelled his great diocese, consecrating Bosa to the see of York, for the Deiri; Eata to that of Lindisfarne, for Bernicia; and Eadhed to the church of Lindissi or great part of Lincolnshire, which Egfrid had won from Mercia.6 This passed in the year 678 Eadhed resided first at Sidnacester, near Gainsborough; but after king Wulfere had recovered Lindsey and all Lincolnshire, he retired to Rippon. Wilfrid, for opposing this partition, was rejected; but appealed to the pope. Dreading a disturbance or schism, he raised no clamor; but being too well versed in the canons not to see the irregularity and nullity of many steps that had been taken against him, embarked for Rome. Being driven by contrary winds at sea upon the coast of Friesland, he was moved to compassion upon seeing the spiritual blindness and idolatry of the inhabitants, and preached the faith to them. During that winter and the following spring he stayed among them, converted and baptized many thousands, with several lords of the country. Thus he opened that harvest which St. Willibrord and others, excited by his example, afterwards cultivated. Wilfrid is honored to this day as the apostle of that country.7 Ebroin, either through the solicitations of the saint’s enemies in England, or on the score of his enmity on account of St. Dolphinus of Lyons, sent letters to Adalgise, king of Fries land, promising to give him a bushel of gold, if he would send him bishop Wilfrid, or his head. The king read the letters publicly before Wilfrid, messengers, and his own officers, and tearing them to pieces with indigation, threw them into the fire, expressing the utmost execration of so detestable a treachery.

Next summer Wilfrid leaving his new converts with great reluctance under the direction of proper pastors, travelled through Austrasia, where king Dagobert II. entertained him most honorably, and entreated him to fill the bishopric of Strasburg, which happened then to be vacant. Upon his refusal, this prince made him very considerable presents, and sent Adeodatus, bishop of Toul, to accompany him to Rome, where he arrived late in the year 679. He found pope Agatho already apprized of what had passed in England, by a monk whom Theodorus had dispatched on his side with letters. The pope was preparing to hold a great council against the Monothelites. In the mean time, to discuss this cause, he assembled a synod in October, 679, in the Lateran basilic, or church of our Saviour, consisting of above fifty bishops and priests, chiefly of the Suburbicarian churches, (i.e. of part of Italy and those of Sicily,) though their names are strangely mangled in Sir Henry Spelman’s copy.8 The causes of the dissension in the British church having been weighed, it was decreed, by the authority of St. Peter, that there should be in it one archbishop honored with the pall, who should promote and canonically ordain the bishops to the other sees; but that none of the bishops should presume to meddle with the rights of any other prelate, but all should study to instruct and convert the people. After this, St. Wilfrid was admitted to the council, though Johnson thinks this a second council, held soon after the first, in the same place; and that St. Wilfrid was not arrived at Rome when the first was convened, but had only stated his case to the pope by letters. Having presented his petition in person to the pope and bishops assembled, the synod exceedingly commended his moderation, in that he had raised no disturbance or resistance by contumacy, but had been content calmly to enter his protestation and appeals, professing that he would submit to whatever was determined; and it was definitively decreed, that he should be restored to his bishopric. Mr. Johnson takes notice that St. Wilfrid never claimed any archiepiscopal jurisdiction, and that this synod9 expressly says, the sacerdotal primacy in Britain was settled by St. Gregory and St. Austin in the see of Canterbury; whence this author imagines St. Gregory altered his first decree or purpose by some posterior regulation. St. Wilfrid stayed above four months at Rome, and assisted at the great Lateran council of one hundred and twenty-five bishops, in which he, with the rest, condemned the Monothelite heresy. When he arrived in England, he repaired to the king, and showed him the sealed decrees of the pope. The prince, when he had first caused them to be read to the prelates of his own faction that were in the room with him, cried out, they had been obtained by bribery, and commanded a certain reeve (or steward of the church for secular affairs) to commit Wilfrid to prison, where he was detained nine months. They took from him every thing but the clothes which he then wore, and sent his attendants some one way, and some another. Queen Ermenberga took away his case of relics, which she hung up in her chamber, and carried about with her in her chariot, when she went out. The holy bishop’s guards heard him sing psalms in his dark dungeon, and beheld a light which terrified them, and the saint having cured the governor’s wife with holy water, he refused to guard him any longer, and the king ordered him to be removed to another prison. At length the queen was seized with a sudden fit of sickness in a monastery, the abbess whereof (who was Ebba, the king’s aunt) represented to her the injustice done to St. Wilfrid; whereupon he was set at liberty, his relics were restored, and his companions were sent back to him.

St. Wilfrid, who was inflamed with an ardent zeal for the conversion of infidels, and the salvation of souls, repaired to the kingdom of the South Saxons, which had not yet received the light of faith. Edilwalch, the king, who had been lately baptized in Mercia, where king Wulphere was his godfather, received him with open arms; and the saint, by his preaching, converted the whole nation, with all the priests of the idols. That country was oppressed with a dreadful famine, no rain having fallen there for three years. But on the day on which St. Wilfrid first administered baptism with great solemnity to an incredible number of the nobility and people, abundant rains fell. The saint also taught the people to fish, which was a great relief to them. In the first essay they caught three hundred fishes, of which the saint induced them to give one hundred to the poor, and as many to those of whom they had borrowed their nets, keeping the like number for their own use. The king gave him land of eighty-seven families, on which he built two monasteries, Bosenham and Selsey, that is, Isle of the Sea-Calf. This latter place became an episcopal see, which was afterwards removed to Chichester. The saint sent a priest into the Isle of Wight, whither the faith had not penetrated, and he had the satisfaction to see all the inhabitant regenerated in the waters of life. Cadwalla, king of the West Saxons, to whom that island was then subject, sent for St. Wilfrid, and took his advice. The saint chiefly resided in the peninsula of Selsey, and cultivated this vineyard five years, till, upon the death of king Egfrid, he was called back into Northumberland. That prince was slain in battle by the Picts, whose country he had invaded in 685. As he left no issue, Alefrid, his natural brother, was sent for out of Ireland, whither he had retired, and a second time mounted the throne. St. Theodorus being above fourscore years of age, and seized with frequent fits of sickness, sent to St. Wilfrid, requesting that he would meet him at London, with Erchambald, bishop of that city. He confessed to them all the actions of his life; then said to St. Wilfrid: “The greatest remorse that I feel is, that I consented with the king to deprive you of your possessions, without any fault committed on your part. I confess this my crime to God and St. Peter; and I take them both to witness, that I will do all that lies in my power to make amends for my fault, and to reconcile you to all the kings and lords who are my friends. God hath revealed to me that I shall not live to the end of this year. I conjure you to consent that I may establish you in my lifetime archbishop of my see.” St. Wilfrid replied: “May God and St. Peter pardon you all our differences: I will always pray for you as your friend. Send letters to your friends, that they may restore to me part of my possessions, according to the decree of the holy see. The choice of a successor in your see will be afterwards considered in a proper assembly.” Pursuant to this engagement, St. Theodorus wrote to king Alcfrid, to Ethelred, king of the Mercians, to Elfleda, who had succeeded St. Hilda in the abbey of Streaneshalch, and others. Alcfrid having received these letters, recalled the holy bishop in the second year of his reign, towards the end of the year 686, and restored to him, first his monastery of Hexham, and soon after that of Rippon, and the episcopal see of York; Bosa of York, and St. John of Beverley, at Hexham, relinquishing their sees to him. Theodorus had first parcelled it into three, afterwards into five bishoprics, consecrating Tunbert to Hexham, and Trumwin to the diocess of the Southern Picts, subject to the kings of Northumberland, whose see was fixed at Wither . . . These bishops were holy men, well qualified for their ministry, and, in simplicity, took upon themselves a charge which their immediate superiors imposed upon them.

St. Wilfrid, after his restoration, reduced Hexham and Rippon to their original condition of mere monasteries; and St. Cuthbert, who had from the beginning sustained the episcopal charge only in obedience and by compulsion, retired to Farne upon St. Wilfrid’s return, and died there the following year, 687; so that St. Wilfrid was obliged to take upon him the care also of the diocese of Lindisfarne, till a new bishop could be chosen. The irreproachable conduct, the vigilancy, and the indefatigable zeal of our holy prelate ought to have stopped the mouths of his enemies; but these very virtues, which enraged the devil, raised new storms against him. King Alcfrid would have a new bishopric elected at Rippon: St. Wilfrid opposed the project, and was obliged once more to fly, in 691, five years after he had been restored. He retired to Ethelred, king of the Mercians, who received him most graciously, and entreated him to take upon himself the care of the see of Litchfield, which was then vacant. The good bishop’s discourses on the vanity of the world, and the infinite importance of salvation, made such an impression on the king, that, in hopes more easily to secure a happy eternity, he soon after relinquished his crown, and put on the monastic habit. Our saint founded many monasteries and churches in Mercia, and usefully employed there his labors; till, finding his enemies in Northumberland had gained Brithwald, archbishop of Canterbury, and were soliciting a sentence of deposition against him, he appealed a second time to Rome, and took another journey thither in 703. His accusers appeared there against him, but to their own confusion. Pope John VI. honorably acquitted the saint, who had in every thing proceeded according to the canons. His very enemies had always acknowledged his life to be irreproachable; and a bishop cannot be deposed unless a canonical fault be proved against him in a synod If it was necessary to divide his bishopric, this was not to be done without his concurrence, and withal reserving to him his own see; the authority at least not of some small consistory, but of a full provincial council, in the West also of the pope, and in the East of the patriarch of that part, ought to intervene, as many instances in France and other places long before that time, clearly show. Moreover, this persecution was raised by court envy, jealousy, and resentment. These were the instruments which conjured up the storm, and the secret springs which put in motion the engines that were employed against this servant of God through the simplicity or ignorance of many, the malice of some, and the complaisance and condescension of others. The holy prelate being the best skilled in sacred learning and in the canons of the church in all Britain, as St. Theodorus on his death-bed acknowledged him to be, was too great a disciplinarian for some at court. How pure his views were, and how remote from avarice and ambition, appeared from his charity towards his persecutors, the meekness with which he maintained the rights of his see, and the discipline of the church, and the humility and disinterestedness with which he refused the bishopric of the Mercians, and excused himself from acquiescing in the earnest request of St. Theodorus, when he desired to make him his coadjutor in the metropolitical see of Canterbury.* If he was rich, he knew no other use of what he possessed than to employ it in the foundation of churches, and in the relief of the poor. He rejoiced to see others share the fruits of his harvest; and though traversed in every advance that he made, he never threw away the laboring oar, or grew remiss in his ministry, or in quickening others to the utmost exertion of their zeal in the cause of God. Such a character appeared in the most shining light to all impartial judges, and St. Wilfrid met at Rome with that protection and applause which were due to his heroic virtue. Pope John VI., in 704, sent letters10 by an express messenger to the kings of Mercia and Northumberland in favor of the persecuted bishop, charging archbishop Brithwald to call a synod which should do him justice in default of which he ordered the parties to make their personal appearance at Rome.

St. Wilfrid, in his return, was taken dangerously ill at Meaux in France; under which distemper Bede relates11 that he was assured by a heavenly vision that Christ, through the intercession of his mother, the holy Virgin Mary, and at the prayers of his friends, had prolonged his life four years. When he landed in England, archbishop Brithwald promised him heartily to concur to his restoration to his former see. Ethelred, the late king of Mercia, then abbot of Bardney, received him with great joy, and warmly recommended him to his nephew Coënred, to whom he had resigned his crown when he forsook the world. Coënred was so inflamed with the love of heavenly things by the converse he had with the holy man, that he conceived a great desire also to renounce the world; which project he afterwards executed in the year 709, of his reign the fourth, when he travelled to Rome with Offa, king of the East-Saxons, and both put on the monastic habit, and, persevering with great fervor to their last hours, died happily in that city. Alcfrid, king of Northumberland, yet made difficulties; but died in 705, and, in his last sickness, repented of the injustice he had done to St. Wilfrid, as his sister Elfleda, abbess of Streaneshalch, gave testimony His restitution, therefore, was easily agreed to by the whole kingdom, under Osred, who being only eight years old, succeeded his father, Brithric being regent during his minority. St. Wilfrid took possession of the diocese of Hexham, but chiefly resided in his monastery of Rippon, leaving York to St. John of Beverley. He governed the monasteries in Mercia, of which he had been the founder, and which were afterwards destroyed by the Danes. He died at one of these at Undalum, now called Oundle, in Northamptonshire, on the 24th of April, 709, having divided his treasures between his monasteries, churches, and the former companions of his exile His body was buried in his church of St. Peter at Rippon.12 That monastery having been destroyed by the wars, the greatest part of his remains was translated to Canterbury in the time of St. Odo, and deposited under the high altar, in 959. They were enshrined by Lanfrane, and deposited on the north side of the altar by St. Anselm, on the 12th of October; the day of which translation became his principal festival. These relics are said now to repose near the monument of that truly great man cardinal Pole.

True virtue is always of a piece with itself, is always governed by the same principle, and always steers the same course. In prosperity it is humble, modest, and timorous; in adversity, magnanimous, and equally active and brave. To suffer from good men is often the severest of trials; but from whatever quarter persecution comes, it is our duty not to sink under it, but, sincerely humbling ourselves before both God and man, we must not be daunted, considering that on one side it is the part of cowards only to be pusillanimous, or to despair; and, on the other, it is arrogance and pride to fall into impatience, or to repay injuries with revenge, insults, or ill-will. St. Wilfrid saw the clouds gather, and ready to burst over his head; yet was undaunted. He never reviled his persecutors—never complained of the envy and malice of those who stirred up whole kingdoms against him. Envy died with him; and immediately the whole world gave due praise to the purity of his intentions, the ardor of his zeal for virtue and discipline, and the sanctity of his life. The historians of our nation unanimously conspire in paying a grateful tribute to his memory, which is consecrated in the Roman and other Martyrologies.

OCTOBER 13 — ST. EDWARD, KING AND CONFESSOR

From William of Malmesbury, (de Reg. Angl. 2, c. 13,) whom Sir H. Saville calls the best historian of our nation, and who wrote in 1140: Matthew of Westminster, or whoever compiled the Flores Hist. Angl. from Matthew Paris, &c., the life of St. Edward, C., written by St. Aëlred, abbot of Rieval, who died in 1166, of which work the most complete and accurate edition is that of Roger Twysden, (inter 10 Angl Scriptores, Londini, ann. 1652, t. 1, p. 370.) An accurate account of his death is given by Snlcard, a monk of Westminster, in the reign of the Conqueror, who wrote, by order of his abbot Vitalis, a short history. De Constructione Westmonasterii, of which two beautiful MS. copies were lent me from the Cotton Library, and the archives of Westminster. See also Ingulphus, published by Gale, Brompton by Twysden, Knyghton, ibid; Hoveden and Matt. Paris, ad ann. 1066; Harpsfield, Sc. xi. c. 3; likewise the historians of Normandy, Odericus Vitalis in Hist. Normann; Gulielmus Pictav. de Gestis Gul Ducis, &c.; the Letter of innocent II. on the Canoniz. of St. Edw. ann. 1138, ap. Wilk. Conc. Br. t. 1, p. 419; the bull of Alexander III. ibid., p. 434; that of Greg. IX. in 1227; and Rymer’s Fœdera, t. 1, p. 297.

A. D. 1066.

GOD often gives bad princes in his wrath; but in a good king he bestoweth a great public blessing on a nation. A wise king is the upholding of his people.1 As the judge of the people is himself, so are his officers; and wha manner of man the ruler of the city is, such also are they that dwell therein An unwise king destroyeth his people; but through the prudence of them that are in authority, the city shall be inhabited.2 The happiness of the reign of St. Edward the Confessor is itself a panegyric of his virtue. This prince was son of king Ethelred II., who left by Elgiva, his first wife, Edmund Ironside, who was his successor; and, by his second wife, Emma, daughter to Richard I. and sister to Richard II. the third and fourth dukes of Normandy, he had Alfred and Edward. In his unhappy and weak reign, the Danes, who from the time of king Athelstan had, for about sixty years, left this island unmolested, committed in all parts of it most horrible ravages. To redeem the country from these vexations, Ethelred engaged to pay them a tax, called Danegelt, of forty thousand pounds a year, which was raised at the rate of twelve pence upon each hide of land, or as much as could be tilled with one plough in a year. Swein, or Sweno, king of the Danes, conquered all England soon after, in 1015; but died the same year, leaving here his son Knute, or Canute Ethelred, who had fled into Normandy, returned upon his death and recovered his kingdom; but, dying in 1016, left Mercia and some other parts in the hands of the Danes. Edmund Ironside, after several battles, came to an agreement, which was concluded in the isle Alney, in the Severn, near Gloucester, by which he consented to divide the kingdom with Canute, yielding up to him the kingdoms of Mercia, Northumberland, and the East-Angles. Shortly after, he was treacherously assassinated by the contrivance of Edric Strean, a Dane, count of Mercia, or whom he had bestowed the greatest favors, and by whom he had been before often betrayed.

Canute took this opportunity to seize the whole kingdom, and ordered the late king’s two infant sons, Edmund and Edward, to be conveyed into Den mark, there to be privately made away with. The officer who conducted them was moved to compassion, and carried them into Sweden, where the king sent them to his cousin Solomon, king of Hungary. When they were grown up, Solomon gave in marriage to Edmund one of his own daughters, and to Edward his sister-in-law Agatha. Emma was retired with her two sons, Alfred and Edward, into Normandy. Canute demanded her of her brother, duke Richard, in marriage, and his request was agreed to. But the two princes remained in Normandy, where Richard II. was succeeded, 1026, by his son Richard III. He reigned only one year, and by his death his brother Robert became duke of Normandy, who, at his death, left no other issue than a bastard, known afterwards by the name of William the Conqueror. Canute reigned in England nineteen years, and was magnificent, liberal, valiant, and religious, though no virtues could excuse his ambition. Dying in 1036, he left Norway to his eldest son, Sweno, England to his son Harold, and Denmark to his son Hardicanute, whom he had by Emma. The two Saxon princes. Alfred and Edward, came over from Normandy to see their mother at Winchester. Godwin, duke or general of West-Sex, who had been the chief instrument in establishing Harold’s interest in that part of England, agreed with the king that the two princes should be invited to court, in order to be secretly made away with. Emma was startled at this message, which was sent to them at Winchester, and was apprehensive of a snare; she therefore contrived to send only Alfred, and, upon some pretences, to keep Edward with her. Godwin met Alfred at Guilford, where the young prince was seized, put first into the castle, and thence conducted to Ely, where his eyes were pulled out: he was shut up in a monastery, and died a few days after. Edward made haste back into Normandy, and Emma retired to the count of Flanders, and lived at Bruges. King Harold dying in winter, 1039, her son Hardicanute landed in England with forty Danish ships, and was acknowledged king. Prince Edward came from Normandy, and was received by him with honor. At his request count Godwin was brought to his trial for the murder of prince Alfred; but was acquitted upon his making oath that he was not privy to his death. Hardicanute, an unworthy prince, died suddenly at the marriage entertainment of a certain Dane at Lambeth, in the third year of his reign, 1041. Sweno another son of Canutus, was still living, and king of Norway; but the oppressions which the English had groaned under for many years, inspired them with a vigorous resolution of restoring the crown to their own princes. The calamities of the most furious war, and the want of power to make any resistance, had obliged them to bear the Danish yoke forty-four years But they were harassed beyond expression under three or rather four Danish kings (including Sweno) with continual cruel exactions; and so great was the tyranny of these masters, that if any Englishman met any Dane upon a bridge, he durst not go over it till the Dane had passed first; and whoever did not respectfully salute a Dane on the road, was severely punished on the spot. On the other side, the virtues of prince Edward silenced even the enemies of his family, and the voice of the whole kingdom was unanimous in demanding that he should be placed upon the throne of his ancestors. Leofric, earl of Mercia Siward, earl of Northumberland, and Godwin, earl of Kent and governor of the whole kingdom of West-Sex, were the leading men in this resolution, and were the most powerful persons in the nation.*

St. Edward was nursed in the wholesome school of adversity, the mistress of all virtues to those who make a right use of it. The heart of the young prince seemed almost naturally weaned from the world by an early feeling experience of its falsehood, deceitfulness, and miseries. This also led him to seek comfort in the only true channel, which is virtue and the divine love. Though educated in the palace of the duke of Normandy, he was always an enemy to vanity, pleasure, and pride; so diligently did he fortify his mind against the contagion of a court in which these vices reigned. The arms by which he triumphed over them were, at the same time, the means by which he grounded his heart in the rooted habits of the contrary virtues. From his infancy it was his delight to pray much, to assist as often as possible at the divine sacrifice of the altar, to visit churches and monasteries, and converse with the most holy and perfect among the servants of God. He was modest in his comportment, and sparing in his words; not out of ignorance or slowness of parts, for all historians assure us, that in wisdom and gravity he much surpassed his years; but out of sincere humility, love of recollection, and just apprehension of the snares and dangers of too great forwardness and volubility of speech. His character from his youth was the aggregate of all Christian and moral virtues; but that which particularly distinguished him was an incomparable mildness and sweetness of temper, the fruit of the most sincere humility and tender universal charity. By this test of genuine virtue, and mark of the spirit of our divine Redeemer, it manifestly appeared how perfectly the saint was dead to himself. Ambition could find no place in a heart crucified to the world, and to all the false interests of the passions. He had learned in the school of Christ how empty, how false all worldly honors are, how heavy their burden is, and how grievous the charge that attends them. If, where a person has no other aim in them but what is directed to the honor of God and the utility of others, they may be lawful and holy, it is a certain principle in morality that it is a most fatal and criminal passion for a person to rest in them, or to love them for themselves, or to seek or please himself is them. A man must be grounded in perfect humility, and has need of an extraordinary strength and grace to bear the weight of honor and not suffer his heart to cleave to it. The height of dignity exposes souls to great dangers, as the highest trees are assailed by the greatest storms. So that a much greater virtue is required to command than to obey; and a Christian ought to learn from the example which Christ has set us, that it is often the safest way to endeavor to fly such posts; and that no one ought to receive a place of honor, without being well assured that it is the will of God that calls him to it, and without being resolved to live upon that pinnacle always in fear and trembling, by having constantly the weight of his obligations, and the fear of the divine judgments before his eyes. Those who open a door to any secret ambition in their hearts, are justly abandoned by God, who says of them: The kings have reigned, but not by mc: they have been princes, and I knew it not.3 St. Edward was called to the crown by the right door, and placed by God on the throne of his ancestors, and had no views but to the advancement of the divine honor, and to the comfort and relief of a distressed people. So far was he from the least spark of ambition, that he declared he would by no means accept the greatest monarchy, if it were to cost the blood of a single man. The very enemies of the royal family rejoiced to see Edward seated on the throne. All were most desirous, after so much tyranny, wars, and bloodshed, to have a saint for king, in whom piety, justice, universal benevolence, and goodness would reign and direct all public councils. With the incredible joy of the whole kingdom he was anointed and crowned on Easter day in 1042, being about forty years old.

Though he ascended the throne in the most difficult times of distraction and commotions, both foreign and domestic, and by his piety and simplicity might seem fitter for a cloister than such a crown, yet never was any reign more happy. The very Danes that were settled in England, loved, respected, and feared his name; and to him it was owing, that though they had looked upon England as their own by a pretended right of conquest, and though they were so numerous as to be able to hold the whole nation in the most barbarous subjection for forty years past, and filled the kingdoms of Northumberland, Mercia, and the East-Angles with their colonies, yet they made not the least opposition or disturbance, and from that time were never more mentioned in England. It is certain, from the silence of all our historians, that no massacre was made of them by the English in the reign of St. Edward, as Pontanus, the Danish historian, pretends. Such an attempt could not but have been as dangerous us it would have been barbarous and unjust; and must have made a much greater noise than that which happened under Ethelred II., when their power and numbers were much less. Nor is it to be doubted but, mingling with the English, they became incorporated with them, except some who might, from time to time, return into their own country. Sweno, king of Norway, son of Canute the Great, equipped a fleet to invade England. Edward put his kingdom in a good posture to repulse him, and sent Gulinda, a niece of Canute’s, into Denmark, lest, by staying in England, she might favor the invasion. In the mean time another Sweno, king of Denmark, made an irruption into Norway, which obliged the Norwegian to lay aside his expedition against England; and he was soon after dethroned by Magnus, the son of Olaus the Martyr, whom Canuts the Great had stripped of Norway. In 1046, certain Danish pirates, in twenty-five vessels, landed, first at Sandwich, then on the coasts of Essex but the vigilance of Godwin, Leofric, and Siward, obliged them to leave this island in peace; nor did they ever return again. This happened a little above two hundred years after their first, invasion, in the reign of Egbert, about the year 830.*

The only war the saint ever undertook was to restore Malcolm, king of Scotland, to which a glorious victory immediately put an end; and we have seen that the only attempt which was ever formed against him by the Danes failed of itself. At home earl Godwin, and some other ambitious spirits, complained he kept several Normans, whom he had brought over with him, about his person. But the holy king with great prudence brought them to reason, or obliged them to leave his dominions for a time, without bloodshed; so that the little clouds which began to gather in his time were immediately scattered, without embroiling the state. A sensible proof how formidable the affection of a whole people renders a prince, and how great a happiness it is to a nation when a king who is truly the father of his subjects reigns in their hearts. The example of St. Edward’s virtues had a powerful influence over many that were about his person, in teaching them to curb their passions. It is frequently the ambition of sovereigns which awakens that of their subjects; and a love of riches sharpens a violent love of vanity and luxury, and produces pride, which passions break forth in various vices, which weaken, undermine, and destroy a state. No prince ever gave stronger or more constant proofs than St. Edward of a heart entirely free from that canker. He seemed to have no other desire than to see his people happy, and to ease their burdens; and no prince seems ever to have surpassed him in his compassion for the necessities of others. Having no inordinate passions to feed, he knew no other use of money than to answer the obligations of justice, to recompense the services of those that deserved well of the state, and to extend his liberality to monasteries and churches, and, above all, to the poor. He delighted much in religious foundations, by which the divine service and praises might be perpetuated on earth to the end of time; but he would never think of plundering his people to raise these public structures, or to satisfy his profuse alms. His own royal patrimony sufficed for all. At that time kings had their estates; taxes were not raised except in time of war, or on other extraordinary emergencies.† St. Edward never found himself under any necessity of having recourse to such burdensome methods. He remitted the Danegelt, which in his father’s time had been paid to the Danish fleet, and had been ever after paid into the royal exchequer. On a certain occasion the lords of the kingdom understanding that the king’s exchequer had been exhausted by his excessive alms, raised upon their vassals a large sum, unknown to him, and the Christmas begged his majesty to accept that free present of his grateful subjects, to clothe his soldiers and defray other public expenses. St. Edward, surprised to see such a heap of money gathered into his exchequer, returned his thanks to his affectionate subjects, but expressed a great abhorrence of what he called a pillaging of the poor, and commanded that it should be returned every farthing to those that had given it. His great alms and actions of pious liberality showed what the sole retrenching of luxury and superfluity may do. His whole deportment showed how much he was master of himself. He was never morose, never appeared transported with anger, puffed up with vanity, or fond of pleasure. His conversation was agreeable, and accompanied with a certain majesty; and he delighted much to speak of God and spiritual things.

St. Edward had conceived from his youth the greatest esteem and love for the precious treasure of purity, and preserved this virtue both in mind and body without stain. St. Aëlred testifies, that, in his youth, through the warmth of his constitution, the subtle artifices of the devil, and the liberties of a court in which he lived a stranger, he sustained violent assaults; but resisted this enemy so manfully, that in all his battles he was gloriously triumphant. Humility, a life of prayer and mortification, a diligent flight of all dangerous occasions, and the practice of all manner of good works, were the weapons by which he diligently armed himself against these temptations. Bearing always in mind that A man’s enemies are those of his own household, he chastised his body by an abstemious life in the midst of dainties; for to pamper it on such occasions is as if, when a house is on fire, a man should throw dry wood on the flames. He watched all the avenues of his soul, keeping his eyes and his other senses under the strictest restraint, and an habitual government, that they should never steal any unguarded glances or other dangerous liberties; and he shunned all superfluous converse with persons of the other sex, from which at least the secret corners of the heart contract something which impairs that perfection of purity, by which the affections are entirely shut up against all creatures, and rendered fit to invite the embraces of the heavenly spouse. His triumph seemed, by rooted victorious habits both of purity and of humility, and those other virtues by which it is preserved, to be become easy and secure, when, being placed on the throne, he was entreated both by his nobility and people to take a royal consort. Earl Godwin, whose immoderate power and wealth seemed to raise him above the level of his fellow-subjects, moved every engine to make the choice fall upon his daughter Edgitha, a lady totally unlike her father, being most remarkably virtuous and abstemious; for beauty, understanding, and all accomplishments, she was the miracle of her sex. Edward seeing that reading, studying, and devotion were her whole delight, hoped she would be easily engaged to become his wife upon condition always to live in holy virginity, in imitation of the mother of God and St. Joseph; it not being in his power otherwise to marry, he having long ago consecrated himself to God by a vow of perpetual chastity, as St. Aëlred assures us. The good king earnestly recommended the matter to God, joining much fasting and alms-deeds to devout prayer, before he disclosed his purpose to the virgin. She readily assented to his religious desire, so that, being joined together in holy wedlock, they always lived as brother and sister, and their example was afterwards imitated by St. Henry and St. Elzear. To ascribe this resolution of St. Edward to an aversion to earl Godwin, is a slander repugnant to the original writers of St. Edward’s history, and to the character of his virtue, with which so strange a resentment, and so unjust a treatment of a virtuous lady whom he had made his queen, would have been very inconsistent. Godwin was the richest and greatest subject in the realm; Canute had made him general of his army, and earl of Kent, and had given him in marriage, not his sister, as Tyrrel and some others mistake, but his sister-in-law, or the sister of count Ulpho, his brother-in-law, as Pontanus calls her. He was afterwards high-treasurer, and duke of West-Sex, that is, general of the army in all the provinces that lay south of Mercia, then called West-Sex. That part of his estate in Kent which was overflowed by the sea, retains from him the name of Godwin sands. An unbounded ambition made him often trample on the most sacred laws, divide and human. Swein, his youngest son, being convicted of having offered violence to a nun, was banished by St. Edward into Denmark, but pardoned some years after. Godwin, for repeated disobedience and treasons, was himself outlawed, unless he appeared, according to a summons sent him, before the king at Gloucester, who had assembled there an army under the earls Leofric and Siward. Godwin refused to stand his trial and returning from Flanders, whither he had first fled, marched with in armed force towards the king. But Edward, whose army was much superior in strength, through the mediation of certain friends, pardoned him in 1053, and restored him to his estates and dignity. During the rebellion of Godwin it was judged necessary that the queen his daughter should be confined in the nunnery of Warewell, lest her dignity might be made use of to encourage or give countenance to the vassals and friends of the earl.* Notwithstanding this precaution of state prudence, from the regard which St. Edward showed to his queen even after the death of earl Godwin, and when the king lay at the point of death, it is evident that they had for each other the most affectionate and sincere esteem, and tender chaste love.

Many actions of kings, in public trials and certain affairs of state, are rather the actions of their council than their own. This is sometimes necessary, that no room be left to suspect that scandalous public crimes are by an unjust connivance passed over with impunity, or that any essential part of the duties and protection which a prince owes his people is neglected. This accounts, in some measure, for the good king’s behavior towards his mother, in the famous trial which she underwent. The fact is related by Brompton,4 Knyghton,5 Harpsfield, and others, though no mention is made of it by Ingulphus or any others who lived nearest the time. Certain wicked men who desired to engross alone the confidence of the king, and the entire administration of the government, set their wits to work to invent some wicked plot for ruining the queen-mother in the opinion of the king. Ambition puts on every shape to obtain its ends, and often suffers more for the devil than would gain a high crown in heaven. These courtiers could play the hypocrites, and had no hopes of surprising the religious king but under some pretence of piety. Queen Emma often saw Alwin, the picas bishop of Winchester, by whose advice she governed her conscience. She was therefore accused of having had criminal conversation with him. Her chastity must have been very perfect and very wary, that calumny itself could find no other but so holy a man to fasten upon. Robert, archbishop of Canterbury, formerly abbot of Jumiege, whom Edward had brought over with him from Normandy, was drawn into a persuasion of her guilt. Her enemies loaded her, moreover, with invectives and accusations for having consented, not only to marry Canute, the enemy of her former husband’s family, but also to have favored Hardicanute, to the prejudice of the right of her children by her first husband, and of the whole Saxon line, to whose exclusion from all share in the kingdom she consented in the articles of this second marriage, agreeing that the crown of all England should be settled on her issue by Canute; though Canute himself altered this settlement by will, so far as to leave only Denmark to Hardicanute, and England to Harold, whom he had by a former wife or concubine: for he looked upon his possession of England as founded in the right of conquest. The law of nations allows this to give a title when it is in itself just, or is the fruit of a just and necessary war, which a prince undertakes after all other ways of doing justice to his people and crown had been tried and failed, and which he always carried on in the dispositions of peace the moment he could obtain the just rights he was obliged to pursue by that violent method. But Canute’s possession, especially of West-Sex, (under which name was then comprised also Sussex, and whatever lying on the south side of the Thames, was, by Canute’s partition, left to the English Saxons,) was an unjust usurpation; and, for Emma voluntarily to concur to the exclusion of the rightful heirs, was an inexcusable and unnatural step, for which only her repentance could atone. To this charge, however, Edward seemed altogether insensible; and perhaps never was any man more remarkably so, even towards strangers, with regard to private or personal injuries. The accusation of sacrilege and incontinency disturbed him, and filled him with horror and grief beyond measure, being, on the one side, unwilling to believe so atrocious a crime, and, on the other, afraid of conniving at such a scandal. He therefore suffered the bishops to take cognizance of the cause in an assembly which they held at Winchester; and, in the mean time, the bishop was confined in that city, and Emma in the royal nunnery of Warewell in Hampshire. In the synod several bishops wished, to the king’s great satisfaction, that the cause might be dropped; but the archbishop of Canterbury insisted so warmly on the enormity of the scandal, and the necessity and obligation of penance, and a public reparation, that the synod was worked up to the severest resolutions. The injured queen could only have recourse to God, like another Susanna, against the malice of her perjured accusers, and, in proof of her innocence, trusting in him who is the protector of the oppressed, offered herself to the trial of Ordeal.* Accordingly, after the night had been spent in imploring the divine protection through the intercession of St. Swithin, queen Emma walked blindfold and barefoot over nine red not ploughshares, aid in St. Swithin’s church in Winchester, without receiving the least hurt, so that when she was gone over them she asked how far she was from her purgation? Upon which her eyes were uncovered, and looking behind her upon the plough shares which she had passed over, she burst into praises of God for her wonderful deliverance.6 The king, who, anxious for the event, had not ceased all this while earnestly to recommend it to God, seeing this testimony of heaven in favor of the innocence of his dear mother, full of gratitude to her deliverer, cast himself at her feet, begged pardon for his fault of credulity, and in satisfaction received the discipline from two bishops who were present. In acknowledgment for this miraculous favor, he bestowed on the church of St. Swithin at Winchester, the isle of Portland and three manors: queen Emma gave to it nine manors, and bishop Alwyn nine others according to the number of ploughshares, which were kept as a memorial in that monastery. The archbishop Robert returned to Normandy, and retired to his monastery of Jumiege, after having first, in penance, performed a pilgrimage to St. Peter’s tomb at Rome. The king commanded all his mother’s goods and estates which had been seized, to be restored to her. She afterwards died at Winchester in 1052.

The following year was remarkable for the death of earl Godwin, who fell down dead while he was at supper with the king at Winchester,7 or, according to Brompton,8 at Windsor, in 1053. Ralph of Disse, Brompton, and others say, that, thinking the king still harbored a suspicion of his having been the contriver of his brother Alfred’s death, he wished that if he was guilty he might never swallow a morsel of meat which he was putting into his mouth; and that he was choked with it. This circumstance, however, is not mentioned by Ingulf, who wrote soon after. Harold succeeded his father Godwin in the earldom of Kent, and in his other dignities.* Griffith, prince of South Wales, having made inroads into Herefordshire, the, king ordered Harold to curb him, which he executed. This Griffith some years after was taken prisoner, and put to death by Griffith-ap-Shewelyn king or prince of North Wales, who sent his head to Harold, and presents to king Edward, who was so generous as to bestow the kingdom of the former which his troops had conquered, on the late prince’s two brothers, Blechgent and Rithwalag, who swore allegiance to Edward.9 In 1058 the king suffered a great loss by the death of the pious and most valiant earl Siward. So great was this soldier’s passion for arms that in his agony he regretted as a misfortune his dying on his bed like a cow, and calling for his armor, expired as soon as he had it on. The year before, by the king’s orders, he had led an army into Scotland, with which he discomfited the usurper Macbeth, and restored Malcolm III. to the throne. In this war, upon receiving news that his son was killed in the battle against Macbeth, he only asked whether he was wounded before or behind, and being assured that he fell fighting valiantly, and was wounded before, he comforted himself, saying, he wished not a more glorious death for his son or himself.10 It is rare for so strong an inclination to arms to be under the influence and direction of virtue; which, however, was the character of this brave soldier. He was buried in the monastery of St. Mary at York.11 The earldom of Northumberland was given first to Tosti, a son of the late earl Godwin; and he being soon after banished for his oppressions and crimes, to Morkard, a grandson of Leofric, earl of Mercia or Chester. The death of Siward was followed by that of Leofric, who was the most prudent and religious counsellor of St. Edward, being for his wisdom, the Nestor of his age, and by his piety a perfect model of Christian perfection. His immense charities to the poor, the great number of churches which he repaired or built, and the great monastery which he founded at Coventry, were public monuments of his zeal and beneficence, which virtues were proved genuine by his sincere humility and devotion. The exemptions and privileges which his pious and charitable lady Godiva obtained of him for the city of Coventry, have commended their memory to the latest posterity in those parts.12 In the pious and wise counsels of this great man, St. Edward, who most frequently resided at Islip, found his greatest comfort and support. His son Alfgar was made duke of Mercia, but fell short of his father’s reputation.

The laws framed by St. Edward were the fruit of his wisdom, and that of his counsellors. Under the heptarchy king Ethelbert in 602, and king Wihtred in 696, published laws, or dooms for the kingdom of Kent: Ina in 693 for West-Sex, and Offa, about the year 790; for the Mercians.13 After the union of the heptarchy, from these former laws Alfred formed a new short code in 877: Athelstan, Edmund, Edgar, and Ethelred did the like. Canute added several new laws. Guthrun, the Danish king, who was baptized, and made an alliance with king Alfred, published with him laws for the Danes who then ruled the East-Angles and Northumbrians. Edward the Confessor reduced all these laws into one body, with amendments and additions; which code from this time became common to all England, under the name of Edward the Confessor’s Laws, by which title they are distinguished from the posterior laws of the Norman kings; they are still in force as part of the common law of England, unless in things altered by later statutes;* they consisted in short positive precepts, in which judges kept close to the words of the law, being not reasoned away either by the judges or advocates, says Mr. Gurdon. In them punishments were very mild; scarce any crimes were capital, and amercements and fines were certain, determined by the laws, not inflicted at the will and pleasure of the judges. The public peace and tranquillity were maintained, and every one’s private property secured. Not by the rigor of the laws, but by the severity and diligence with which they were executed, and justice administered. Whence Mr. Gurdon says,14 “This king’s religious and just administration was as much or more valued by the people than the text of the laws.” It is the remark of the same ingenious author in another place,15 “Edward the Confessor, that great and good legislator, reigned in the hearts of his people. The love, harmony, and good agreement between him and the great council of the nation,† produced such a happiness as to be the measure of the people’s desires in all succeeding reigns; the law and government of king Edward being petitioned for, and strenuously contended for, by the English and Norman barons.” The saint’s historians relate, as an instance of his extreme lenity and goodness, that as he seemed one day asleep in his chamber, he saw a servant boy come twice and steal a considerable quantity of money out of a great sum which Hugoline, the keeper of his privy purse, had left exposed: and that when the boy came a third time, he only bade him take care, for Hugoline was coming, who, if he caught him, would have him severely whipped, and he would lose his booty. When Hugoline came in, and burst into a rage for the loss, the king bade him be easy, for the person who had taken the money, wanted it more than they did. Some moderns censure this action. But we must observe that the king doubtless took all care that the thief should be made sensible of his sin, and did not imagine he would return to the theft; also that he regarded it merely as a personal injury which he was always ready to forgive; and that this single private instance of such a pardon was not imprudent, or would have any influence on the administration of public justice. Saints are always inclined to pardon personal injuries: and in these cases easily persuade themselves that lenity may be used without offending against prudence. No prince seems to have understood better than St. Edward what he owed to the protection of his people, to the laws, and to public justice, in administering which, he walked in the steps of the great king Alfred, and proposed to himself as a model his severity in inspecting into the conduct of his judges. William the Bastard, duke of Normandy, came into England, to pay a visit to the king his cousin in 1052, the year before Godwin’s death.*

St. Edward during his exile in Normandy had made a vow to perform a pilgrimage to St. Peter’s tomb at Rome, if God should be pleased ever to put an end to the misfortunes of his family. When he was settled on the throne he began to prepare suitable gifts and offerings to make to the altar of the apostle, and to put things in order for his journey. For this purpose he held a great council, in which he declared his vow, and the obligation he lay under of returning thanks in the best manner he was able to the divine clemency, propounded the best methods to be taken for securing commerce and the public peace, and affectionately commended all his dear subjects to the divine mercy and protection. The whole assembly of the governors and chief men of the provinces made strong expostulations against his design. They commended his devotion, but with tears represented to him that the kingdom would be left exposed to domestic divisions and to foreign enemies and had already before their eyes slaughters, civil wars, armies of fierce Danes, and every other calamity. The king was moved by their entreaties and reasons, and consented that the matter should be referred to Leo IX. who then sat in St. Peter’s chair. Aëlred, archbishop of York, and Herman, bishop of Winchester, with two abbots, were dispatched to Rome on this errand. The pope, considering the impossibility of the king’s leaving his dominions exposed to such grievous dangers and calamities, dispensed with his vow upon condition that, by way of commutation, he should give to the poor the sum he would have expended in the journey, and should moreover build or repair and endow a monastery in honor of St. Peter. King Edward having received this brief, after due deliberation, pitched upon a spot where to erect this royal abbey. Sebert, king of the East-Angles, nephew to St. Ethelbert, upon his conversion, founded the cathedral of St. Paul’s in London, and also, according to Sulcard, without the walls on the west of that city, a monastery in honor of St. Peter, called Thorney, where a temple of Apollo is said to have stood in the time of the Romans, and to have been thrown down by an earthquake. But, from the silence of Bede, Mr. Widmore thinks this little monastery was built something later, and by some private person. It is first mentioned in a charter of king Offa, in 785. This monastery was called Thorney, and being destroyed by the Danes, was restored by king Edgar. St. Edward, invited by the situation and other circumstances, repaired and endowed the same in a most magnificent manner out of his own patrimony, and obtained of pope Nicholas II. the most ample exemptions and privileges for it dated in 1059.* From its situation it was called Westminster, and is famous for the coronation of our kings, and the burial of great persons, and was, at the dissolution, the richest abbey in England. William of Malmesbury,16 St. Aelred, Brompton, and others relate, that St. Edward, while he resided in a palace near this church, cured an Irishman, named Gillemichel, who was entirely a cripple, and was covered with running sores. The king carried him on his back, and set him down sound, though Sulcard takes no notice of this miracle. The same historians mention, that a certain woman had a swelling in her neck, under her chin, full of corruption and exhaling a noisome smell. Being admonished in a dream, she addressed herself to the king for his blessing. St. Edward washed the ulcerous sore and blessed it with the sign of the cross after which the sore burst, and cleansed itself, and the patient was healed Malmesbury adds, that it was the constant report of such as well knew the life of Edward, that he had healed many of the same disease while he lived in Normandy. Hence was derived the custom of our kings touching for the cure of that species of scrofulous tumor called the king’s-evil. Peter of Blois, in 1180, wrote in a letter from the court of Henry II. that the king had touched persons in this manner.17 In the records of the Tower it appears, that in 1272, Edward I. gave gold medals to those whom he had touched for this distemper, as Mr. Becket acknowledges. Queen Elizabeth laid aside the sign of the cross in the ceremony, in which she was imitated by the three succeeding kings, though they all continued the practice; and Charles I. in 1650, by a pompous proclamation, invited all who stood in need of it to repair to him, that they might be made partakers of the heavenly gift.*

King Edward resided sometimes at Winchester, sometimes at Windsor, or at London; but most ordinarily at Islip, in Oxfordshire, where he was born.† Formerly noblemen lived on their estates amidst their tenants and vassals, and only repaired to court on certain great festivals, or when called by the king upon extraordinary occasions. Christmas being one of the chief feasts on which the nobility waited on the king, St. Edward, when the buildings were finished, chose that solemnity for the dedication of the new church at Westminster. The ceremony was performed with great devotion and the utmost pomp, the bishop and nobility of the whole kingdom assisting thereat, as Sulcard testifies. The king signed the charter of the foundation, and of the immunities and privileges granted to this church, to which were annexed the most dreadful spiritual comminations against those who should ever presume to infringe the same.‡ Next to the prince of the apostles, this holy king had a singular devotion to St. John Evangelist, the great model of holy purity and divine charity; and it is related in his life, that he was forewarned by that glorious Evangelist of his approaching dissolution, in recompense of his religious devotion, in never refusing any just and reasonable request that was made him for the sake, or in the name of that saint. The pious king, by his munificent foundation, hoped to erect a standing monument of his zeal for the divine honor, and of his devotion to the holy apostle St. Peter, and to establish a seminary of terrestrial angels, by whom a perpetual holocaust of divine praise and love might be paid to God with chaste affections disengaged from the world, and all earthly things, for all succeeding ages, when he should be no longer on earth to praise God here himself: also by the fervor of many pious servants of God he desired to supply the defects and imperfection of his own devotion in love and service. At the same time he renewed with the utmost fervor the entire oblation, which he had never failed all his life continually to make of his heart, and of all that he had or was, to the divine glory, begging he might be made, through the divine mercy, an eternal sacrifice of love. In these dispositions, he sung with holy Simeon: Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace. Being taken ill before the ceremony of the dedication was over, he hastened the same, and continued to assist at it to the end. He then betook himself to his bed, and, by the most perfect exercises of devotion and the sacraments of the church, prepared himself for his passage to eternity. In his last moments, seeing his nobles all bathed in tears round his bed, and his affectionate and virtuous queen sobbing more vehemently and weeping more bitterly than the rest, he said to her with great tenderness: “Weep not, my dear daughter; I shall not die, but shall live. Departing from the land of the dying, I hope to see the good things of the Lord in the land of the living.”18 Commending her to her brother Harold, and certain other lords, he declared he left her an untouched virgin.* He calmly expired on the 5th of January, in 1066, having reigned twenty-three years, six months, and twenty-seven days, in the sixty-fourth year of his age. Never was king more sincerely or justly regretted by his subjects; and to see the happiness of the good Confessor’s reign revived, was the constant and the highest object of all the temporal wishes of their posterity for many succeeding ages. William the Conqueror, who ascended the throne in October the same year. St. Edward died, caused his coffin to be enclosed in a rich case of goal and silver. His queen Edgitha survived the saint many years. Ingulf, a learned Norman monk, whom the Conqueror made abbot of Croyland, and who was intimately acquainted with her, very much extols her learning, humility, invincible meekness, and extensive goodness towards all ranks.19 All our historians give her the same great and amiable character. Whence Speed calls her a lady of incomparable piety. When she lay on her deathbed, she assured upon oath many that were present that she had lived with king Edward only as a sister, and died a maid.20 By the Conqueror’s order she was buried by St. Edward, and her coffin was covered with plates of silver and gold.* In 1102, the body of St. Edward was found entire, the limbs flexible, and the cloths fresh. Soon after, a certain Norman, whose name was Ralph, and who was an entire cripple, recovered the use of his limbs by praying at his tomb, and six blind men were restored in like manner to their sight; which miracles, with some others, being duly proved, the saint was canonized by Alexander III. in 1161,21 and his festival began to be kept on the 5th of January. Two years after, a solemn translation of his body (which was found incorrupt, and in the same condition as formerly) was performed by St. Thomas, archbishop of Canterbury, in presence of king Henry II. and many persons of distinction, on the 13th of October; on which day his principal festival is now kept. The national council of Oxford, 1222, commanded his feast to be kept in England a holyday. Out of respect to the memory of St. Edward, the kings of England to this day at their coronation, receive his crown, and put on his dalmatic and maniple, as part of the royal robes, though even the crown has been since changed, and now only bears St. Edward’s name, being made in imitation of his.22

St. Edward was a saint in the midst of a court, and in a degenerate age. Such an example must convince us, that for any to impute their want of a Christian spirit and virtue to the circumstances of their state or situation, is a false and foolish pretence: a proof of which is, that if these were changed, they would still remain the same persons. The fault lies altogether in their own sloth and passions. One who is truly in earnest, makes dangers and difficulties a motive of greater vigilance, application, and fervor, and even converts them into the means of his greater sanctification. Temperance and mortification may be practised, the spirit of true devotion acquired, and all virtues exercised by the divine grace, even in an heroic degree, where a desire and resolution does not fall short. From obstacles and contradiction, themselves the greatest advantages may be reaped: by them patience, meekness, humility, and charity are perfected, and the soul is continually awaked, and quickened, into a lively sense of her duty to God.

OCTOBER 13 — SS. FAUSTUS, JANUARIUS, AND MARTIALIS, MM

These saints are called by Prudentius The three crowns of Cordova,1 in which city they, with undaunted constancy, confessed Jesus Christ before a judge named Eugenius, in the year 304. First Faustus, then Januarius, and lastly Martialis, who was the youngest, was hoisted on the rack. While they were tormented together, Faustus said: “How happy is this union in our sufferings, which will unite us in our crowns!” Eugenius charged the executioners to torment them without intermission, till they should adore the gods. Faustus hearing these orders, cried out: “There is one only God, who created us all.” The judge commanded his nose, ears, eyelids, and under lip to be cut off, and the teeth of his upper jaw to be beaten out. At the cutting off each part, the martyr returned thanks to God, and fresh joy sparkled in his countenance. Januarius was then treated in the same manner. All this while Martialis prayed earnestly for constancy while he lay on the rack. The judge pressed him to comply with the imperial edicts; but he resolutely answered: “Jesus Christ is my comfort. Him I will always praise with the same joy with which my companions have confessed his name in their torments. There is one only God, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, to whom our homages and praises are due.” The three martyrs being taken from their racks, were condemned to be burnt alive, and cheerfully finished their martyrdom by fire at Cordova in Spain, in the reign of Dioclesian. See their genuine acts in Ruinart, p. 597, and Prudentius1. de Coronis Mart.

OCTOBER 13 — SEVEN FRIAR MINORS, MARTYRS

Five Franciscan missionaries having glorified God by martyrdom in Morocco in 1220, on the 16th of January, as has been related on that day; seven other zealous priests of the same order sailed to Africa the year following, with the same view of announcing Christ to the Mahometans. Their names were Daniel the provincial of Calabria, Samuel, Angelus, Donulus, Leo, Nicholas, and Hugolin. Arriving at Ceuta, they preached three days in the suburb of the city, which was inhabited by Christians; after which they went into the town, and preached Christ also to the infidels. The populace hearing them, immediately took fire, covered them with mire and filth, and carried them before their king, whose name was Mahomet. From their rough habits and shorn heads he took them for madmen, but sent them to the governor of the town. By him, after a long examination, they were remanded to the king, who condemned them to be beheaded. They suffered with great joy in the year 1221, on the 10th of October; but are commemorated in the Roman Martyrology on the 13th. See F. Wadding’s Annals of the order, St. Antoninus, and Chalippe, Vie de St. François,1. 4, t. 1. p. 326.

OCTOBER 13 — ST. COLMAN, M

In the beginning of the eleventh century, the neighboring nations of Austria, Moravia, and Bohemia were engaged against each other in implacable dissensions and wars. Colman, a Scot or Irishman, and according to Cuspinian and other Austrian historians, of blood royal, going on a penitential pilgrimage to Jerusalem, arrived by the Danube from the enemy’s country at Stockheraw, a town six miles above Vienna. The inhabitants persuading themselves that he was a spy, unjustly tortured him various ways, and at length hanged him on a gibbet, on the 18th of October, in 1012. The double testimony of heroic actions of virtue and of miracles is required before any one is enrolled by the church among the saints, as Gregory IX. declares in his bull of the canonization of St. Antony of Padua. Neither miracles suffice, without clear proof of heroic sanctity, nor the latter without the former, says that pope; and the same is proved by the late Benedict XIV.1 A fervent spirit of compunction and charity, and invincible meekness and patience under exquisite torments and unjust sufferings, were an undoubted proof of the sanctity of the servant of God, which was confirmed by the incorruption of his body, and innumerable miracles. Three years after his death his body was translated by the bishop of Megingard, at the request of Henry, marquis of Austria, and deposited at Mark, the capital of the ancient Marcomans, near Moravia. St. Colman is honored in Austria among the tutelar saints of that country, and many churches in that part of Germany bear his name. See his life written soon after his death by Crekenfred, abbot of Mark, published by Canisius; also Dithmar in Chron. and Leopold VI. marquis of Austria, in Chronico de Austriæ dynastis; Aventinus; Raderus, t. 3, p. 109, and Colgan, Act. SS. Hib. p. 107, n. 12.

OCTOBER 13 — ST. GERALD, COUNT OF AURILLAC, OR ORILHAC, C. PATRON OF UPPER AUVERGNE

This virtuous nobleman was born in 855, and inherited from his parents the most tender sentiments of piety and religion. It being the custom of that age for lords to lead their vassals to war in person, the art of war was looked upon as a necessary part of his education; but a lingering illness detained him a long time at home, during which he took so much delight in studies, prayer, and holy meditation, that he could never be again drawn into the tumultuous scene of a worldly train of life. By rooted habits of perpetual strict temperance and assiduous devotion he entered upon a penitential course of life. After the death of his parents he gave almost the whole revenue of his large estate to the poor, reserving a very small pittance for his own subsistence: he went meanly clad, in a manner suitable to the austere life he had embraced, fasted three days a week, never supped, and kept always a very frugal table. He rose, every morning at two o’clock, even in journeys, said the morning part of the divine office, and meditated till sunrise; then he heard mass, and divided the whole day between the duties of religion and those of his station, devoting a great part of it to prayer and pious reading. He had usually a good book read to him at table; but after meals, allowed himself a little time for relaxation and conversing with his friends, though his discourse turned always upon something serious: in his pilgrimages and journeys he always took with him some holy priests with whom he might pray, and always chose a lodging next to some church. At prayer he appeared quite absorbed in God. Calling once at the monastery of Solemniac, during the long office on Ascension day, he stood unmoved in so devout contemplation as never to seem to perceive the seat and form richly covered that was prepared for him. The monks, from his very countenance and attitude, learned with what profound sentiments of adoration, awe, and love, we ought to present ourselves before God. He had such in abhorrence of praise and flattery that he discharged from his service any one who discovered any thing that tended to manifest his virtue; and, if he was a slave, ordered him to be chastised. All miraculous cures which God wrought by his means he most carefully concealed. He found great satisfaction in visiting the tombs of St. Martin and other saints, being transported at the remembrance of the bliss which their happy souls now enjoy in the beatific vision. Acts of charity to the poor, and of justice to his vassals, were a great part of his external employments; and it was his chief care to make up all quarrels among them, to exhort all to virtue, and to furnish them with the best means for their spiritual instruction and advancement. In a spirit of sincere devotion and penance he performed an austere pilgrimage to Rome, and after his return founded at Aurillac a great church under the invocation of St. Peter in 884, in the place of that of St. Clement, which his father had built there, together with a Benedictin abbey. This monastery our saint enlarged and enriched, and with great care and solicitude procured the most perfect observances of the order to be established in it. He had some thoughts of taking himself the monastic habit, but was dissuaded by St. Gausbert, bishop of Cahors, his director, who represented to him that, in the station in which God had placed him in the world, he was able to promote the divine honor to greater advantage in the service of his neighbor, and that he ought to acquit himself of the obligations which he owed to others. Seven years before he died he lost his sight: in that state of corporal darkness his soul was employed in contemplating the divine perfections, and the glory of the heavenly Jerusalem, in bewailing his distance from God, and his own spiritual miseries, and those of the whole world, and in imploring the divine mercy. His happy death happened at Cezeinac in Quercy, on the 13th of October, 909. His body was conveyed to Orilhac, and interred in the monastery, where it was honored with many miracles, attested by St. Odo of Cluni, and others. His silver shrine was plundered by the Huguenots in the sixteenth century, and his sacred bones scattered about, but some of them were recovered. This great abbey was secularized, and converted into a collegiate church of canons by Pius IV. in 1562, according to Longuerue,1 not by Pius V., as Piganiol and Baillet have it. The dignity of abbot is preserved, who is commendatory, and lord of the town and territory, with great prerogatives, but not of the castle, which belongs to the king. The town of Aurillac was raised about the abbey, and has been long the capital of Upper Auvergne. See the life of St. Gerald compiled in four books by St. Odo of Cluni, who died thirty-three years after him, extant in Surius, Biblioth. Cluniac, p. 66, and part in Mabillon, Act. Ben. Sc. v., with extracts from the Chronicle of Adhemar, and other writers.

OCTOBER 14 — ST. CALIXTUS, OR CALLISTUS, POPE, MARTYR

See Tillem. t. 2, from St. Optatus, St. Austin, and the Pontificals; also Hist. des Emper. Moret, names by Benedict. XIV. canon of St. Calixtus’s church of St. Mary beyond the Tiber,1. de S. Callisto S. Callisto ejusque Ecclesia S. Mariæ Transtyberinæ, Romæ, 1753, folio, and Sandini, Vit. Pontif. p. 43.

THE name of St. Callistus* is rendered famous by the ancient cemetery which he beautified, and which, for the great number of holy martyrs whose bodies were there deposited, was the most celebrated of all those about Rome.* He was a Roman by birth, succeeded St. Zephirin in the pontificate in 217 or 218, on the 2d of August, and governed the church five years and two months, according to the true reading of the most ancien Pontifical, compiled from the registers of the Roman Church, as Henschenius, Papebroke, and Moret show, though Tillemont and Orsi give him only four years and some months. Antoninus Caracalla, who had been libera to his soldiers, but the most barbarous murderer and oppressor of the people having been massacred by a conspiracy, raised by the contrivance of Macrinus, on the 8th of April, 217, who assumed the purple, the empire was threatened on every side with commotions. Macrinus bestowed on infamous pleasures at Antioch that time which he owed to his own safety, and to the tranquillity of the state, and gave an opportunity to a woman to overturn his empire. This was Julia Mœsa, sister to Caracalla’s mother, who had two daughters, Sohemis and Julia Mamma. The latter was mother of Alexander Severus, the former of Bassianus, who, being priest of the sun, called by the Syrians Elagabel, at Emesa, in Phœnicia, was surnamed Heliogabalus. Mœsa, being rich and liberal, prevailed for money with the army in Syria to proclaim him emperor; and Macrinus, quitting Antioch, was defeated and slain in Bithynia in 219, after he had reigned a year and two months, wanting three days. Heliogabalus, for his unnatural lusts, enormous prodigality and gluttony, and mad pride and vanity, was one of the most filthy monsters and detestable tyrants that Rome ever produced. He reigned only three years, nine months, and four days, being assassinated on the 11th of March, 222, by the soldiers, together with his mother and favorites. Though he would be adored with his new idol, the sun, and, in the extravagance of his folly and vices, surpassed, if possible, Caligula himself, yet he never persecuted the Christians. His cousin-german and successor, Alexander, surnamed Severus. was, for his clemency, modesty, sweetness, and prudence, one of the best of princes. He discharged the officers of his predecessor, reduced the soldiers to their duty, and kept them in awe by regular pay. He suffered no places to be bought, saying, “He that buys must sell.” Two maxims which he learned of the Christians were the rules by which he endeavored to square his conduct. The first was, “Do to all men as you would have others do to you.” The second, “That all places of command are to be bestowed on those who are the best qualified for them;” though he left the choice of the magistrates chiefly to the people, whose lives and fortunes depend on them. He had in his private chapel the images of Christ, Abraham, Apollonius of Tyana, and Orpheus, and learned of his mother, Mamma, to have a great esteem for the Christians. It reflects great honor on our pope, that this wise emperor used always to admire with what caution and solicitude the choice was made of persons that were promoted to the priesthood among the Christians, whose example he often proposed to his officers and to the people, to be imitated in the election of civil magistrates.1 It was in his peaceable reign that the Christians first began to build churches, which were demolished in the succeeding persecution. Lampridius, this emperor’s historian, tells us, that a certain idolater, putting in a claim to an oratory of the Christians, which he wanted to make an eating-house of, the emperor adjudged the house to the bishop of Rome, saying, it were better it should serve in any kind to the divine worship than to gluttony, in being made a cook’s shop. To the debaucheries of Heliogabalus St. Callistus opposed fasting and tears, and he every way promoted exceedingly true religion and virtue. His apostolic labors were recompensed with the crown of martyrdom on the 12th of October, 222. His feast is marked on this day in the ancient Martyrology of Lucca. The Liberian Calendar places him in the list of martyrs, and testifies that he was buried on the 14th of this month in the cemetery of Calepodius,* on the Aurelian way, three miles from Rome. The Pontificals ascribe to him a decree appointing the four fasts called Ember-days; which is confirmed by ancient Sacramentaries, and other monuments quoted by Moretti.2 He also decreed, that ordinations should be held in each of the Ember weeks.† He founded the church of the Blessed Virgin Mary beyond the Tiber. In the calendar published by Fronto le Duc he is styled a confessor; but we find other martyrs sometimes called confessors. Alexander himself never persecuted the Christians; but the eminent lawyers of that time, whom this prince employed in the principal magistracies, and whose decisions are preserved in Justinian’s Digestum, as Ulpian, Paul, Sabinus, and others, are known to have been great enemies to the faith, which they considered as an innovation in the commonwealth. Lactantius informs us3 that Ulpian bore it so implacable a hatred, that, in a work where he treated on the office of a proconsul, he made a collection of all the edicts and laws which had been made in all the foregoing reigns against the Christians, to incite the governors to oppress them in their provinces. Being himself prefect of the prætorium, he would not fail to make use of the power which his office gave him, when upon complaints he found a favorable opportunity. Hence several martyrs suffered in the reign of Alexander. If St. Callistus was thrown into a pit, as his Acts relate, it seems probable that he was put to death in some popular tumult. Dion4 mentions several such commotions under this prince, in one of which the prætorian guards murdered Ulpian, their own prefect. Pope Paul I. and his successors, seeing the cemeteries without walls, and neglected after the devastations of the barbarians, withdrew from thence the bodies of the most illustrious martyrs, and had them carried to the principal churches of the city.5 Those of SS. Callistus and Calepodius were translated to the church of St. Mary, beyond the Tiber. Count Everard, lord of Cisoin or Chisoing, four leagues from Tournay, obtained of Leo IV., about the year 854, the body of St. Callistus, pope and martyr, which he placed in the abbey of Canon Regulars which he had founded at Cisoin fourteen years before; the church of which place was on this account dedicated in honor of St. Callistus. These circumstances are mentioned by Fulco, archbishop of Rheims, in a letter which he wrote to pope Formosus in 890.6 The relics were removed soon after to Rheims for fear of the Normans, and never restored to the abbey of Cisoin. They remain behind the altar of our Lady at Rheims. Some of the relics, however, of this pope are kept with those of St. Calepodius martyr, in the church of St. Mary Trastevere at Rome.7 A portion was formerly possessed at Glastenbury.8 Among the sacred edifices which, upon the first transient glimpse of favor, or at least tranquillity that the church enjoyed at Rome, this holy pope erected, the most celebrated was the cemetery which he enlarged and adorned on the Appian road, the entrance of which is at St. Sebastian’s, a monastery founded by Nicholas I., now inhabited by reformed Cistercian monks. In it the bodies of SS. Peter and Paul lay for some time, according to Anastasius, who says that the devout lady Lucina buried St. Cornelius in her own farm near this place; whence it for some time took her name, though she is not to be confounded with Lucina who buried St. Paul’s body on the Ostian way, and built a famous cemetery on the Aurelian way. Among many thousand martyrs deposited in this place were St. Sebastian, whom the lady Lucina interred, St. Cecily, and several whose tombs pope Damasus adorned with verses.

In the assured faith of the resurrection of the flesh, the saints, in all ages down from Adam, were careful to treat their dead with religious respect, and to give them a modest and decent burial. The commendations which our Lord bestowed on the woman who poured precious ointments upon him a little before his death, and the devotion of those pious persons who took so much care of our Lord’s funeral, recommended this office of charity; and the practice of the primitive Christians in this respect was most remarkable. Julian the Apostate, writing to a chief priest of the idolaters, desires him to observe three things, by which he thought Atheism (so he called Christianity) had gained most upon the world, namely, “Their kindness and charity to strangers, their care for the burial of their dead, and the gravity of their carriage.”9 Their care of their dead consisted not in any extravagant pomp,* in which the pagans far outdid them,10 but in a modest religious gravity and respect which was most pathetically expressive of their firm hope of a future resurrection, in which they regarded the mortal remains of their dead as precious in the eyes of God, who watches over them, regarding them as the apple of his eye, to be raised one day in the brightest glory, and made shining lustres in the heavenly Jerusalem.

OCTOBER 14 — ST. DONATIAN, C. BISHOP OF RHEIMS, AND PATRON OF BRUGES

He was the seventh bishop of Rheims, and died about the year 389. Charles the Bald having bestowed the relics of this saint on Baldwin, whom he had created earl of Flanders, to hold of him that rich province as a fief, in 863 the earl deposited them in the church of Bruges, which, thereupon, took the title of St. Donatian’s, being before called our Lady’s. It was made a bishop’s cathedral in 1559. See Flodoard, in Hist. Rhem.; Marlot, Hist. de Rheims, c. 1; Ant. Sanders Hagiogr. Flandr. p. 133. Molan. et Miræus.

OCTOBER 14 — ST. BURCKARD, C., FIRST BISHOP OF WURTZBURG

(In Latin, Herbipolis, in Franconia.)

ST. BONIFACE standing in need of fellow-laborers powerful in words and works in the vast harvest which he had on his hands in Germany, about the year 732, invited over from England St. Lullus and St. Burckard, who seem by this circumstance to have come from the kingdom of West-Sex: they were both persons of an apostolic spirit. St. Boniface consecrated St. Burckard with his own hands the first bishop of Wurtzburg in Franconia, where St. Kilian had preached the word of life, and suffered martyrdom about fifty years before. This whole country was by his ministry converted to Christ. Excessive fatigues having, in ten years time, exhausted his strength, with the consent of king Pepin, and by the approbation of St. Lullus. (St. Boniface being gone to preach in Friesland,) he resigned his bishopric to Megingand, a monk of Fritzlar, and disciple of St. Wigbert, in 752. Retiring into a solitude in that part of his diocese called Hohenburg, he spent the remaining part of his life with six fervent monks or clergymen in watching, fasting, and incessant prayer. He died on the 9th of February, 752, and was buried near the relics of St. Kilian at Mount St. Mary’s, or Old Wurtzburg, where he had built a monastery under the invocation of St. Andrew. Hugh, bishop of Wurtzburg, chancellor to the emperor Otho IV., authorized by an order of pope Benedict VII. about the year 983, made a very solemn translation of his relics; the 14th of October, the day on which this ceremony was performed, has been regarded as his principal festival. Out of veneration for his sanctity, king Pepin, in 752, declared the bishops of Wurtzburg dukes of Franconia, with all civil jurisdiction. The emperor Henry IV. alienated several parts of Franconia, but the bishops of Wurtzburg retain the sovereignty of this extensive diocese, though it was much larger before St. Henry II. erected the bishopric of Bamberg. The life of St. Burckard is written by an anonymous author above two hundred years after his death; and again, from uncertain memorials, by Egilward, a monk of Wurtzburg. See Fabricius,1. Salutaris Lux Evangelii toti orbi exoriens sive Notitia Historica et Geographica propagatorum per orbem Christianorum Sacrorum, c. 19, p. 419; Eyring, Diss. de Ortu et progressu religion Christ. in Francia Orientali, edit. Lipsiæ, 1704. Ignat. Groppius a Benodictin, Scriptores Rerum Wircerburg, p. 489, (edit. 1741,) and Hansizius, a Jesuit, German. Sacra, t. 2.

OCTOBER 14 — ST. DOMINIC, SURNAMED LORICATUS, C

The severity with which this fervent penitent condemned himself to penance for a fault into which he was betrayed without knowing it is a reproach to those who, after offending God with full knowledge, and through mere malice, yet expect pardon without considering the conditions which true repentance requires. Dominic aspired from his youth to an ecclesiastical state, and being judged sufficiently qualified, was promoted to priest’s orders; on which occasion his parents had made a simoniacal stipulation with the bishop, to whom they had made a handsome present. The young clergyman coming soon after to the knowledge of this crime, condemned by the divine law, and punished with the severest penalties and censures by the canons of the church, was struck with remorse, and could never be induced to approach the altar, or exercise any sacerdotal function. In the deepest sentiments of compunction he immediately entered upon a course of rigorous penance. In a desert called Montfeltre, amidst the Appenine mountains, a holy man called John led a most austere life in continual penance and contemplation, with whom, in eighteen different cells, lived so many fervent disciples who had put themselves under his direction. Among them no one ever drank wine, or ate flesh, milk, butter, or any other white meats. They fasted every day with only bread and water, except on Sundays and Thursdays; had a very short time allowed them for rest in the night, and spent their time in manual labor and assiduous prayer. Their silence was perpetual, except that they were allowed to converse with one another on Sunday evenings, between the hours of vespers and compline. Severe flagellations were used among them as a part of their penance. Dominic, after spending some time in a hermitage at Luceolo, repaired to this superior, and begged with great humility to be admitted into the company of these anchorets, and having obtained his request, by the extraordinary austerity of his penance gave a sensible proof how deep the wound of sorrow and compunction was, with which his heart was pierced. After some years, with the leave of his superior, he changed his abode with a view to his greater spiritual improvement, in 1042, retiring to the hermitage of Fontavellano at the foot of the Appenine in Umbria, which St. Peter Damian then governed according to the rule of St. Bennet, which it changed in the sixteenth century for that of Camaldoli. The holy abbot, who had been long accustomed to meet with examples of heroic penance and all other virtues, was astonished at the fervor of this admirable penitent. Dominic wore next his skin a rough iron coat of mail, from which he was surnamed Loricatus, and which he never put off but to receive the discipline, or voluntary penitential flagellation.

The penitential canons, by which a long course of most severe mortifications was enjoined penitents for grievous sins, began about that time to be easily commuted, through the indulgence of the church out of condescension to the weakness of penitents, among whom few had courage to comply with them in such a manner as to reap from them the intended advantage. Being therefore found often pernicious rather than profitable to penitents, they were mitigated by a more frequent concession of indulgences, and by substituting penitential pilgrimages, crusades undertaken upon motives of virtue for the defence of Christendom, or other good works it then became a practice of many penitents to substitute this kind of voluntary flagellation counting three thousand stripes while the person recited ten psalms, for one year of canonical penance. Thus the whole psalter accompanied with fifteen thousand stripes, was esteemed equivalent to one hundred years of canonical penance. Dominic, out of an ardent spirit of mortification, was indefatigable in this penitential practice; which, however, draws its chief advantage from the perfect spirit of compunction from which it springs. If in sickness he was sometimes obliged to mingle a little wine with his water, he could never be induced to continue this custom after he had recovered his health, even in his old age. St. Peter, after an absence of some months once asked him, how he had lived? To which Dominic replied with tears “I am become a sensual man.” Which he explained by saying, that, in obedience, on account of his bad state of health, he had added on Sundays and Thursdays a little raw fennel to the dry bread on which he lived. In his last sickness his spirit of penance, far from being abated, seemed to gather strength. The last night of his life he recited matins and lauds with his brethren, and expired while they sung Prime, on the 14th of October, 1060. See his life written by his superior and great admirer, St. Peter Damian,1. 1, ep. 19; also compiled at large, with several dissertations, by Mr. Tarchi, printed at Rome, an. 1751.

OCTOBER 15 — ST. TERESA, VIRGIN FOUNDRESS OF THE REFORMATION OF THE BAREFOOTED CARMELITES

The life of St. Teresa, written by herself, holds the first place in the church among books of this kind after the Confessions of St. Austin, says Baillet. The French translation of this work published by Abbe Chanut, in 1691, is far preferable to that which was the last production of D’Andilly in his old age, in 1670, and to that of F. Cyprian in 1657. The saint finished this work in 1562, twenty years before her death; she afterwards added to it a relation of the foundation of her convent at Avila. In this book we have the history of her life to the reformation of her order, with an account of the visions, &c. she received during the three first years she was favored with such graces; those which she continued frequently to receive from that time to the end of her life were never published by her, except some things through the channel of persons whom she consulted. The history which she wrote of her Foundations furnishes us, however, with a continuation of her life till within two years, or a year and a half, before her death. F. Ribera, a Jesuit, well known by his learned comments On the Twelve Lesser Prophets, the Epistle to the Hebrews, and the Apocalypse, who had been sometimes confessarius of the saint, wrote her life with great care and fidelity. The same was also written soon after by Didacus Yepez, bishop of Tarragona, confessor to king Philip II., and sometimes to St. Teresa, with whom he frequently conversed and corresponded during the space of fourteen years. See also the Epistles of St. Teresa published by bishop Palafox in four tomes. We have her own life and her other works, except her letters, translated into English by Mr. Abr. Woodhead, in two vols. 4 to. 1669. Also an abstract of her own Life and Foundations by R. C. in 1757. Her life is compiled in French by M de Villefort.

A. D. 1582.

THE humble relation which St. Teresa has left us of her own life, in obedience to her confessors, is the delight of devout persons, not on account of the revelations and visions there recorded, but because in it are laid down the most perfect maxims by which a soul is conducted in the paths of obedience, humility, and self-denial, and especially of prayer and an interior life. St. Teresa was born at Avila in Old Castile, on the 28th of March, 1515. Her father, Alphonsus Sanchez of Cepeda, was a gentleman of a good family, and had three children by a first wife, and nine by a second. The name of the latter was Beatrice Ahumada, mother to our saint, another daughter, and seven sons. Don Alphonsus delighted much in reading good books, with which he was well stocked; he was also very charitable to the poor, compassionate to the sick, and tender towards his servants; remarkable for his strict veracity, modesty, and chastity, and very averse from detraction and swearing. Our saint’s mother, likewise, was very virtuous, suffered much from frequent sickness, and died happily at the age of three-and-thirty, when Teresa was twelve years old. By the means of the pious instructions and example of her parents, God inclined the tender heart of Teresa from her infancy to his service. Being only seven years old she took great pleasure in reading the lives of the saints, and other pious books, in which she spent much time with a little brother called Rodrigo, who was near of the same age. They were much amazed at the thought of eternity, and learned already to despise all that passes with time. With feeling sentiments they used to repeat often together: “Forever, forever, forever;” and admiring the victories of the saints, and the everlasting glory which they now possess, they said to one another: “What! forever they shall see God.” The martyrs seemed to them to have bought heaven very cheap by their torments; and after many conferences together on this subject, they resolved to go into the country of the Moors, in hopes of dying for their faith. They set out privately with great fervor, praying as they went that God would inspire them with his holy love, that they might lay down their lives for Christ: but, upon the bridge over the Adaja, near the town, they were met by an uncle, and brought back to their mother, who was in the greatest frights, and had sent to seek them. They were chid by their parents for their unadvised project, and Rodrigo laid all the blame on his sister. Teresa continued the same course, and used often to say to herself; “O Eternity! Eternity! Eternity!” She gave to the poor all the alms she could, though this was very little: and studied to do all the good works in her power. The saint and the same little brother formed a design to become hermits at home, and built themselves little hermitages with piles of stones in the garden, but could never finish them. Teresa sought to be much alone, and said very long prayers with great devotion, especially the Rosary; for her mother inspired her tender soul with a singular devotion to the Blessed Virgin. She had in her room a picture of our Saviour discoursing with the Samaritan woman at the well, with which she was much delighted, and she often addressed those words to our Saviour with great earnestness: “Lord, give me of that water;” meaning that of his grace and holy love. In the twelfth year of her age, upon the death of her mother, in great grief, she threw herself upon her knees before a picture of the Blessed Virgin, and besought her, with many tears, that she would vouchsafe to be her mother. The saint adds, that this action, which she did with great simplicity, she thought afterwards very profitable to her; and found the Blessed Virgin favorable to her in all her requests, and looked upon herself as much indebted to her intercession for the great mercy by which God was pleased to bring her back to a sense of her duty after she had begun to go astray. She aggravates exceedingly her own malice, by which she had been ungrateful to so great and so early favors she had received from God in her tender age; she never ceased to grieve that she should have ever defiled the tabernacle of her heart, in which he was to dwell forever, and to thank his goodness for having called her back into the path of her duty, begging that he would be pleased to conduct her soul to eternal salvation.

The most dangerous snare into which she fell was that of idle books, and vain company. Romances,* or fabulous histories of knight-errantry, were at that time much in fashion in Spain. Teresa got hold of some such books a little before her mother died, and began to read them much more after her death, though always unknown to her father, who would have been highly provoked. About that time, a certain cousin-german, a worldly young woman, addicted to vanity, and fond of reading such books, began to vis her, and by her conversation wrought such a change in Teresa, that, forgetting the greatest part of her former devotions, she spent several hours both of the day and night in reading romances with great pleasure. She began at the same time to curl and trim her hair, to use perfumes, to love fine clothes, and the like, out of a desire of pleasing others, though without any bad intention; for she would not for the world have given to any one an occasion of offending God. She continued some years without imagining there was in this any sin; but she afterwards found it was a great one. None but this kinswoman and some other near relations were allowed by the father to visit his daughter; but even these proved dangerous company to her; and she listened to them with pleasure in their discourse on vanities, toys, and follies, never criminal, yet not good. Thus she gradually fell off from her fervour during three months. Her father perceived her to be much changed, and her devotion cooled. She laments grievously this her dangerous fall, and from her own fatal experience, earnestly conjures all parents to watch over their children, that they may never fall into idle, vain, and dangerous company, or such books; for if she had not dashed against these two rocks, she thinks she should have always increased in fervor, instead of falling back. Ribera, from his strictest examination of the saint, assures us, that she could not be thought to have incurred the danger of any mortal sin; for this reading and company, though very dangerous, did not appear to her any more than an innocent amusement; so that her simplicity extenuated the fault. Bishop Yepez1 makes this evident from what the saint herself acknowledges,2 notwithstanding her inclination to exaggerate this offence: saying, that though she was delighted with agreeable conversation and diversions, she had always an extreme horror of any open evil; but she exposed herself to the danger, and therefore condemns herself so severely attributing her preservation from falling down the precipice to God’s pure mercy and assistance, in preserving in her heart a great sense of the honor of virtue. She indeed says,3 that notwithstanding her confessors judged nothing in these actions could have amounted to the guilt of a mortal sin, she afterwards understood them to have been mortal sins; where she expresses her own apprehensions. For those vanities and books were dangerous occasions of greater evils than she was aware of. When she fell into these faults, she confessed them, for she always confessed during the lukewarm period of her life all known venial sins, as she assures us. After her perfect conversion, her timorous conscience and vehement compunction made her speak of these sins in stronger terms than her confessors approved; and she testifies that she desired to say much more on this subject, to publish to the whole world her ingratitude against God, had they not forbid her. Her father took notice that her devotion was much cooled, and not being able handsomely to forbid this vain relation his house, he placed his daughter, who was then fifteen years of age, in a very regular convent of Austin nuns in Avila, where many young ladies of her quality were educated. Teresa found a separation from her companions grievous; but as her attachments proceeded only from the natural affectionate disposition of her heart, they were soon forgot, and a secret sentiment of honor and of her reputation made her disguise this repugnance. From the precaution which her father had taken, she saw that her fault had been greater than she imagined, and began severely to condemn herself for it. The first eight days in the convent seemed tedious to her; but having by that time forgot her former amusements, and broken the ties she had contracted in the world, she began to be pleased with her new situation. A devout nun, who was mistress of the pensioners, used frequently to instil into her mind serious reflections on virtue, and repeated often to her that dreadful truth: Many are called but few are chosen. By the discourse and counsels of this servant of God, Teresa recovered her fervor, and earnestly recommended herself to the prayers of the nuns that God would place her in that state in which she might be likely to serve him best: though she had not then the courage to desire to be a nun herself; for the thoughts of a perpetual engagement affrighted her.

After a year and half spent in this convent, the saint fell dangerously sick, and her father took her home. When she had recovered her health she went to see her eldest sister in the country, who tenderly loved her; and calling to see an uncle, her father’s brother, was detained by him some time His name was Peter Sanchez of Cepeda: he was a widower, and a very discreet and pious man. He lived retired in the country, where he employed his time in his devotions, and in reading good books. He gave several to Teresa to read, and his discourse was most commonly of God, and of the vanity of the world. When she returned to her father’s house, she began for some time to deliberate with herself about embracing a religious state of life. She at first thought the convent of the Austin nuns where she had lived, too severe, and was inclined to choose a house in which she had a particular great friend; by which circumstance she afterwards feared she had then more regard to the subtle gratification of a secret sensual satisfaction and vanity, than to the greater spiritual advancement of her soul. After a violent fever at home, (for she had often bad health,) she was determined, by reading St. Jerom’s epistles, to become a nun. Her father would by no means give his consent; but said, that after his death she might dispose of herself as she pleased. The saint fearing from former experience she might again relapse, though she felt an excessive severe interior conflict in leaving her dear father, went privately to the convent of the incarnation of the Carmelite nuns without the walls of Avila, where her great friend, sister Jane Suarez, lived, though at that time she says she sought only the good of her soul, making no account at all of rest or ease. Upon her taking the habit, God changed the dryness under which she had labored for some time into an extreme tenderness of devotion, and all her religious observances gave her great delight. While she was sweeping the house, or employed in other such actions, the remembrance that she had formerly spent those hours in dressing herself, or in other vanities, overwhelmed her heart with such an extraordinary joy as amazed her. But during her novitiate she felt many severe interior trials, notwithstanding her constant great contentment in this state. She made her profession with extraordinary fervor in November, 1534, in the twentieth year of her age. A sickness, which seized her before her profession, increased very much on her after it, with frequent fits of fainting and swooning, and a violent pain at her heart, which sometimes deprived her of her senses. Physicians finding no remedy for her extraordinary case, her father got her removed out of her convent, in which the law of enclosure was not then established. Sister Jane Suarez bore her company, and she remained partly at her sister’s in the country, and partly at Bazeda, almost a year, in the hands of certain able physicians. Their medicines served only to increase her distempers, insomuch, that for the space of three months she suffered such excessive torments, with a continual burning fever, that her sinews began to shrink up, and she could take no rest either day or night. She was also oppressed with a profound sadness of mind. Her father, after this, caused her to be brought to his own house, where the physicians gave her over; for her distempers had then terminated in a hectic fever, and her sharp pains never left her, and afflicted her all over from head to foot. God, however, gave her incredible patience; and she was much comforted by reading the book of Job, with St. Gregory’s Morals or Commentary, and had often in her mouth some of the aspirations of holy Job which expressed his resignation to God. She at length, in August, 1537, lay near four days in a trance or lethargic coma, during which time it was expected that every moment would be her last. It being once imagined that she was dead, a grave was dug for her in the convent, and she would have been buried, if nei father had not opposed it, and testified that he still perceived in her body certain symptoms of life. Through excess of pain she had bit her tongue in many places, when out of her senses; and for a considerable time she could not swallow so much as a drop of water, without almost choking Sometimes her whole body seemed as if the bones were disjointed in every part, and her head was in extreme disorder and pain. She could neither stir hand, nor foot, nor head, nor any other part, except, as she thought, one finger of her right hand. She was so sore, that she could not bear any one to touch her in any part, and she had often a great loathing of all food. Her pains being somewhat abated, she so earnestly desired to return to her monastery, that she was carried thither, though her body seemed reduced to skin and bone, and worse than dead, through the pain she endured. She continued thus above eight months, and remained a cripple near three years.

The saint endured these sufferings with great conformity to the holy will of God, and with much alacrity and joy. Under these afflictions she was much helped by the prayer which she had then begun to use. When, in the beginning of this sickness, she was taken out of her convent, and soon after carried into the country, her devout uncle Peter put into her hands a little book of F. Ossuna, called The Third Alphabet, treating on the prayer of recollection and quiet. Taking this book for her master, she applied herself to mental prayer, according to the manner prescribed in it, was favored with the gift of tears, and of the prayer of Quiet, (in which the soul rests in the divine contemplation, so as to forget all earthly things,) and sometimes, though not for a longer space than an Ave Maria at a time, she arrived at the prayer of Union, in which all the powers of the soul are absorbed in God. However, for want of an experienced instructor, she made little progress, was not able to hold any discourses in her understanding, or to meditate without a book, her mind being immediately distracted. Yet she was wonderfully delighted with this holy meditation, and received a heavenly light, in which she saw clearly the nothingness of all earthly things, looked upon the whole world as under her feet, and beneath the regard of a soul, and pitied all persons who vainly pursue its empty bubbles. The paralytic disorder in which her fevers, violent headaches, and convulsions and contractions of her sinews had terminated, began so far to be abated, that she was able to crawl upon her hands and feet. After three years’ suffering, she was perfectly restored to her health; and she afterwards understood that she had received of God this favor and many others, through the intercession of the glorious St. Joseph, which she had humbly and earnestly implored.4 She declares, that she trembled exceedingly, and praised and thanked the divine mercy with all the powers of her soul, as often as she remembered that “God might have bereaved her of life, when she was in a dangerous state: and I think,” says she, “I may safely add a thousand times, though I be blamed by him who commanded me to use moderation in the recital of my sins. I have disguised them enough. I beseech him for God’s sake that he will not extenuate my faults; for by them the great goodness of God is more manifested, since he so long beareth an unfaithful soul. Praise be to Him forever. May he rather annihilate me, than I should ever hereafter cease to love himself.”5 Her confessor, by whose order she wrote, knew her great propensity to magnify her faults; for which reason he gave her this charge. If, when she was arrived at the most perfect purity of heart and divine love she could discern such faults and dangers in her soul, at a time while she seemed already a saint in the eyes of men, and received the gift of supernatural prayer, and other eminent virtues, how much ought we to fear in our ukewarm state, and excite ourselves to watchfulness and compunction? St. Teresa attributes the good opinion which others then had of her to her own cunning and hypocrisy, though she acknowledges that she was never designedly guilty of any dissimulation, having always abhorred such a baseness. Two great means by which she preserved her soul from many difficulties and snares were her constant and tender charity and goodness towards all persons, by which she always gained the esteem and good-will of all those with whom she lived or conversed; secondly, an extreme dread and abhorrence of the least shadow of detraction, insomuch, that no one durst in the least reflect on any other person in her presence, and from her infancy she had had this rule always before her eyes, in discoursing of others to speak of them in the same manner she would desire others should speak of her.

Who ought not always to tremble for himself, and excite himself by humility and holy fear to watch continually, with the utmost attention, over his own heart, to apply himself with his whole strength to all his duties, and with the greatest earnestness to call in Omnipotence to his assistance, since this holy virgin, after receiving so many favors from God, fell again from her fervor and devotion? Her prudence and other amiable qualifications gained her the esteem of all that knew her. An affectionate and grateful disposition inclined her to make an obliging return to the civilities which others showed her. And, finding herself agreeable to company, she began to take delight in it, by which she lost that love of retirement which is the soul of a religious or interior life, and in which she had been accustomed to spend almost her whole time in prayer and pious reading. By an irregular custom of her convent she seemed authorized to indulge this dangerous inclination, and spent much time in conversing with seculars at the grate or door of the monastery, and she contracted an intimacy with one whose company was particularly dangerous to her. Such conversation, besides a great loss of time, dissipated her mind, and infused earthly affections and inclinations, which do infinite mischief to a soul whose affections are or ought to be spiritual, and expose her to the utmost dangers. Teresa therefore began to neglect mental prayer, and even persuaded herself that this was a part of humility, as her dissipated life rendered her unworthy to converse so much, or so familiarly with God, by mental prayer. So subtle is the devil in his snares, knowing that no virtuous person can be deceived but under the appearance or cover of good. Teresa also said to herself there could be no danger of sin in what so many others did, more virtuous than she was, who received frequent visits of secular persons in the parlor. The remonstrances which a senior nun made to her on the impossibility of reconciling so much dissipation of mind and worldly conversation with the spirit and obligations of a religious life, were not sufficient to open her eyes.

One day, while she was conversing at the grate with a new acquaintance she seemed to see our Lord, who represented himself to the eyes of her soul with much rigor in his countenance, testifying that her conduct displeased him. She took this for the effect of imagination, and being much importuned to it, still persuaded herself, by the example of others, that there could be no harm in so much exterior conversation, and that no damage resulted from it to her soul. She grievously accuses herself of this fault, and of her blindness in shutting her eyes to many warnings and inspirations, by which she ought to have been made sensible of so great an evil, which she conjures all religious persons to beware of. Her father had been induced by her, when she first learned the use of mental prayer, to apply himself earnestly to it, as to the great means of acquiring all perfect interior virtues and within five or six years he was much improved by that holy exercise He often called to see her, and to converse with her on spiritual things He thought she assiduously conversed with God, as she had formerly done when she had lived a year or more in that state of dissipation, having left off mental prayer, contenting herself with only vocal, of which she says: “This was the greatest and worst temptation that ever I had; for by this means I ran headlong upon my own ruin.”6 At length finding her father’s mistake, she disabused him, telling him she no longer used mental prayer for which she alleged the frequent infirmities to which she was subject But she adds: “This reason of bodily weakness was not a sufficient cause to make me give over so good a thing, which requires not corporeal strength, but only love and custom. In the midst of sickness the best of prayer may be made; and it is a mistake to think that it can only be made in solitude.” Her father, out of the good opinion he had of her, looked upon her excuse as just, and pitied her, because she had enough to do to be able to attend the choir. In 1539, she suffered a great affliction in the loss of her good father, whom she always loved with the most dutiful and tender affection. Though ill herself, she went out of her monastery to assist him in his last sickness, and strained very hard to do him all the service, and procure him all the comfort she was able. Giving great praise to the divine mercy for him, she has left us an edifying account of his preparation for his last passage; and mentions the desire which he had to leave this world, and the good advice he gave, to his children, and all that were about him, whom he charged earnestly to recommend his soul to God, faithfully to serve him themselves, and to have constantly before their eyes that all this world must come to an end. He added with many tears how much he was grieved at the heart for not having served God with greater fervor. His sickness began with a very grievous pain in the shoulders. St. Teresa old him, that since he had been much devoted to the mystery of our Saviour carrying his cross, he would do well to conceive that Christ, in his great mercy, had been pleased to give him a feeling of some part of that suffering. With this consideration he was so much comforted, that he mentioned his pain no more, nor did he ever let fall the least word of complaint. He expired while he was saying the creed. His confessor, F. Vincent Barron, or Varron, a learned and pious Dominican friar, whom Teresa at that time also made use of, took pains to make her understand that her soul was in a dangerous way, and that she must not fail to make use of mental prayer. She therefore began to use it again, in the twenty-fourth year of her age, and from that time never left it. Yet for a long time she continued still to pursue her amusements of worldly dissipation, and receiving visits at the grate, as if she had a mind to reconcile two contraries which are so much at enmity with one another; a spiritual life and sensual pastimes, or the spirit of God and that of the world. The use she made of prayer made her see these faults; yet she had not courage to follow God perfectly, or entirely to renounce secular company. Describing the situation of her divided soul at that time, she says that she neither enjoyed the sweetness of God, nor the satisfactions of the world; for amidst her amusements, the remembrance of what she owed to God gave her pain, and while she was conversing with God in prayer, worldly inclinations and attachments disturbed her. Yet God was pleased often to visit her in her devotions with sweet consolation; and to bestow upon her great favors, even in that very time of her life when she offended him most, namely, by her frequent amusing conversations with seculars, contrary to the recollection and spirit which her state required.

This goodness of God towards her, notwithstanding her sloth and rebellions, was to her a subject of continual astonishment, and a motive of the strongest love and most feeling gratitude. “Hence,” says she, “proceeded my tears, together with a grievous indignation which I conceived agains myself, when I considered what a wretched creature I was; for I saw that I was still upon the point of falling again, though my purposes and desires of amendment (as long as those favors lasted) seemed to be firm and strong I should be glad that all such persons as may read this account of my proceedings should abhor me, seeing my soul so obstinate and ungrateful towards him who had vouchsafed me so great favors. And I wish I could get leave to declare the multitude of times that I failed in my obligation to God in this number of years, because I was not supported by the strong pillar of mental prayer. I passed through this tempestuous sea almost twenty years, between these fallings and risings, though I rose very imperfectly, since I so soon relapsed.” These relapses are meant of those venial sins and imperfections which stopped her progress in the divine service. She adds, that as she was obliged to write this account with exact and entire truth, she must acknowledge, that within this term there were many months, and perhaps a whole year, that she gave, herself much to prayer, without relapsing into vain amusements; but, because she remembered little of these good days, she believed they were few; though few days passed in which she had not given a considerable time to mental prayer; and the worse she was in health, the more her soul was united to God, and she procured that those who were with her might be so too, and they spoke often of God. Thus, out of twenty-eight years which had passed when she wrote this, since she began to employ herself diligently in mental prayer, except that one year in which she laid it aside, she spent more than eighteen in this strife. Bishop Yepez assures us, from his own knowledge of the saint’s interior, and demonstrates from her own words,7 that she passed these eighteen years in frequent trials of spiritual dryness, intermin gled with intervals of heavenly consolation in prayer; and that these faults and dangers, which she continually deplores and extremely exaggerates, consisted chiefly in serious entertainments with affectionate visitants, to which the sweetness of her temper, and the goodness of her heart, inclined her, and which her confessors at that time approved and recommended though she discovered them to be obstacles to her spiritual perfection and prayer. She conjures every one, for the love of God, to be assiduous in endeavoring to obtain and cherish the spirit of prayer, and adds the most pathetic exhortations that no one deprive himself of so great a good, in which nothing is to be feared, but much to be desired. By mental prayer we learn truly to understand the way to heaven; and this is the gate through which God conveys himself, and his graces and favors, into our souls. Nobody ever made choice of God for a friend, whom his Divine Majesty did not well requite for his pains. For mental prayer is a treaty of friendship with God, and a frequent and private communication with him, by whom we know we are beloved.” And they who love him not yet must force themselves to be much in his company by prayer, and pass on through this gate till they arrive at his love. “I do not see how God can come to us,” says the saint, “or enrich us with his graces, if we shut the door against him. Though he is infinitely desirous to communicate himself to us with all his gifts, he will have our hearts to be found disengaged, alone, and burning with a desire to receive him. O Joy of the angels, my Lord, and my God, I cannot think of conversing with you without desiring to melt like wax in the fire of your divine love, and to consume all that is earthly in me by loving you. How infinite is your goodness to bear with, and even caress those who are imperfect and bad: recompense the short time they spend with you, and, upon their repentance, blot out their faults. This I experienced in myself. I do not see why all men do not approach you, to share in your friendship. Even the wicked, whose affections have no conformity to your spirit, ought to approach you, that they may become good, even though they at first abide with you sometimes with a thousand distractions, as I did, &c. Since our Lord suffered so wicked a creature as myself so long a time, and all my miseries were redressed by this means of prayer, what person, how wicked soever, can find any thing to fear in this exercise? For how wicked soever any person may have been, he will never have been so bad as I was, after having received such great favors from our Lord,” &c.8 The saint says, that during the time of her most slothful dispositions, she was never tired with hearing sermons, though ever so bad; but that she was a long time before she perfectly understood that all endeavors are good for nothing, unless first we strip ourselves entirely of all confidence in ourselves, and place it wholly in God alone. This foundation of a spirit of prayer is seldom sufficiently laid; so apt is pride imperceptibly to persuade us that there is something in us of strength, or by which we deserve the divine compassion.

After twenty years thus spent in the imperfect exercise of prayer, and with many defects, the saint found a happy change in her soul. One day, going into the oratory, seeing a picture of our Saviour covered with wounds in his passion, she was exceedingly moved, so that she thought her very heart was ready to burst. Casting herself down near the picture, and pouring forth a flood of tears, she earnestly besought our Lord to strengther her, that she might never more offend him. She had long been accustomed every night, before she composed herself to rest, to think on our Lord’s prayer in the garden, and bloody sweat, and was particularly affected with that mystery. From this time she made the sufferings of Christ the ordinary object of her interior conversation with him during the day and night. Being particularly devoted to St. Mary Magdalen, she was delighted to place herself in spirit with her at the feet of Jesus, earnestly beseeching her Redeemer not to despise her tears. She always found particular comfort in those saints who, after having been sinners, were converted to our Lord, hoping that by their means he would forgive her, as he had done them. Only this reflection discouraged her—that he called them once, and they returned no more to sin; whereas, she had so often relapsed, which afflicted her to the very heart; but the consideration of the love our Lord bore her, made her always confide entirely in his mercy. St. Austin who was an admirable penitent, and the patron of the first nunnery in which she had lived, was one of those saints towards whom she was most tenderly affected. In reading his confessions, in the twentieth year of her age, she applied to herself that voice by which his conversion ‘was wrought, in so lively a manner as to remain for a considerable time even dissolved, as it were, in tears, with very great affliction and anguish; and she prayed with the greatest earnestness that our Lord would hear her cries, have regard to so many tears, and have compassion on her miseries. From that time she withdrew herself more than ever from all occasions of vain amusements and dissipations, and gave her time more entirely to the exercises of compunction and divine love. The saint had scarce formed her resolution of serving God perfectly, when he vouchsafed to visit her soul with new and extraordinary consolations and favors, regaling her with heavenly sweetness in great abundance: for she tells us he did not require, as in others, that she should have disposed herself for such favors, but only that she was content to receive them. “I never presumed,” says she, “to desire that he should give me so much as the least tenderness of devotion; I begged only for grace never to offend him, and for pardon of my past sins; and I never durst deliberately desire any spiritual delights. It was an infinite mercy that he would suffer me to appear in his presence. Only once in my whole life, being in great spiritual dryness, I desired him to afford me some little spiritual support; out as soon as I had reflected what I had done, I was filled with confusion, and the grief I felt for my want of humility obtained for me that which I had presumed to beg.” The saint, before she gives an account of the supernatural favors she had received, conjures her confessor, Garzia de Toledo, (by whose order, and to whom she wrote this relation,) entirely to conceal all she says on that head, and publish only her sins, imperfections, and the indifferent actions of her life.9

Describing the state of her soul, with regard to her manner of prayer, she says she began to consider Christ as present in her soul, in the same manner as she had been accustomed to do after communion; thus she entertained herself with him in her ordinary actions, and in mental prayer. From the twentieth year after she had first applied herself to this exercise, she made little use of interior discoursing or reasoning to inflame her affections; the intuitive consideration of any motive or object immediately raising in her heart the most ardent acts of divine love, thanksgiving, compunction, or earnest applications.* The tenderness of her love, and her feeling sense of her own wants, formed her a prayer without studied or chosen words, of long reasoning and reflection in meditation. St. Teresa says she had been before accustomed to feel often a tender heavenly sweetness in her devotions; but at this time her soul began to be frequently raised by God to the sublimer degrees of supernatural passive prayer. For she observes that the servants of divine love, in which they chiefly advance by prayer, arrive not on a sudden at the highest degree of prayer. True love is a precious gift, and the soul must be more and more prepared and disposed as she advances. The gift of prayer and an interior life have difficulties to be overcome, which cost much to flesh and blood, especially in the beginning of first steps by which a soul is prepared to receive it.

St. Teresa distinguishes four degrees in mental prayer. In the first, the soul applies herself to holy meditation, for which a calm state of mind and a retired place are necessary, and the life of Christ one of the first and most important subjects. No state of dryness or difficulties from distractions must make a person lay it aside: he is not to seek his own satisfaction, and ought to be content with humbling himself before God, and knowing that his divine majesty regards the desire of our hearts to love him, and knows and compassionates our miseries and weakness more than we ourselves can do. We must be willing to bear our cross, to pay as well as to receive: and the saint says10 she afterwards experienced that one hour of consolations abundantly paid, even in this life, for all the crosses she had sustained. Our desire ought to be ever to acquiesce in the will of God, to rejoice in carrying our cross with our Lord, and sincerely to acknowledge ourselves infinitely unworthy to be admitted into the divine presence, much more to receive the least drop of the dew of his consolations, which only the pure excess of his infinite goodness could ever bestow on the most unworthy of his creatures, out of mere condescension to their weakness, which engages him by these sensible caresses to overcome their obstinacy, and draw them to his love. St. Teresa assigns the second degree of prayer to be that of Quiet, in which the powers of the soul are recollected, but not absorbed in God; the will or affections being strongly captivated in God, and employed in acts of love, and the understanding and memory aiding some little the will to enjoy this its sovereign good and quiet, though the will is so taken up in God as not to regard or be distracted by the concurrence of these powers. This state is accompanied with an exceeding great interior comfort or delight, the powers of the soul are applied without labor or pains, (so that this prayer never wearies how long soever it continues,) and often tears flow with joy, of their own accord, or without being procured.11 The intellect here may suggest certain humble silent reflections of thanksgiving, love, or the like, which increase the flame of the will; but, if the intellect raises too great a tumult, or the will strives to silence or recollect it, or the memory or imagination, this quiet is lost and vanishes. This recollection or quiet, in the exercise of divine love inspired and produced by the Spirit of God, differs infinitely from a pretended quiet of the will which human industry may strive to produce in it; but which is without any effect or sublime operation; it quickly expires, and is succeeded by great dryness in the affections. The devil, sometimes, by working upon the imagination, endeavors to imitate the visits of the Divine Spirit; but an experienced soul easily discovers his illusions, as St. Teresa remarks; for he leaves the mind disturbed, not calm, as the Holy Ghost always does: neither does he leave any impression of profound infused humility, (but generally an inclination to pride;) nor any strong dispositions to virtue; nor great spiritual light in the understanding nor steady resolution or constancy in virtue, which are the effects of heavenly visitations, as the saint remarks.12 The third degree of prayer she calls the Repose of the soul: it is the prayer of Union; in which the soul overflows with incomparably greater joy, ardor and delight in the divine love, than in the former; she consumes herself in the most sublime affections of love and praise, as Saint Teresa explains at large; and is not inactive, as the false mystics or Quietists pretended, though she knows not at all how she acts.13 The fourth degree of prayer distinguished by her is a more perfect union of all the powers of the soul suspended and absorbed in God, as she explains at large.14 This is accompanied with so great interior joy and delight, that the saint assures us a single moment would be, even in this life, a sufficient recompense for all the pains we can have undergone.15 St. Teresa distinguishes the prayer of Union, in which her soul was able to resist the divine operation, from a rapture or ecstasy in which it could not resist, and in which her body los all the use of its voluntary functions, and every part remained in the same posture, without feeling, hearing, or seeing, at least so as to perceive it; though she says, on such occasions the soul knows she is in a rapture, while she is by the most ardent love ravished in God. These raptures continue sometimes for hours, though not all that time in the same degree. In them the soul sees in a wonderful and clear manner the emptiness of earthly things, the greatness and goodness of God, and the like. Though before she saw nothing in herself but desires of serving God, in a rapture she beholds herself covered with spots, defects, and faults, for the smallest are clearly visible in a bright beam of divine light, darting in upon her: she sees that she is all misery and imperfection, and cries out: Who shall be justified before thee? As the vessel, which seemed before clear in a crystal glass, appears full of atoms if it be placed in the beams of the sun; so this divine sun, by darting its bright beams upon the soul, sets before her eyes all her imperfections and sins as so many hideous spots. At this sight she is confounded and humbled on one side beyond expression, and on the other astonished at the greatness and goodness of God, and transported in an ecstasy of love and adoration. St. Teresa mentions that, having suffered two raptures in the church which could not escape the observation of others, she prayed that this might no more happen to her in public, and from that time it had not when she wrote; but this was not long after. She says she was sometimes raised from the ground in prayer, though she endeavored to resist it.16

St. Teresa, after having exercised herself twenty years in mental prayer, began to withdraw herself from the conversation of secular persons, and other occasions of dissipation and little faults which she exceedingly exaggerates, and was favored by God very frequently with the prayer of Quiet, and also with that of Union, which latter sometimes continued a long time with great improvement of her soul, and with excessive heavenly joy and love. The examples of certain women, who had been miserably the dupes of a deluded imagination and of the devil, much terrified her; and though she was persuaded her favors were from God, she was so much perplexed with these fears that she resolved to take advice; and she consulted so many persons, though obliging them to secrecy, that the affair was divulged abroad, to her great mortification and confusion. The first person to whom she opened herself was a gentleman of the town, named Francis of Salsedo, a married man, who for thirty-eight years had practised mental prayer with great assiduity, and with his virtuous lady, who concurred with him in his great charities, fasts, and other exercises of piety, was an example of virtue to the whole country. This gentleman introduced to her Dr. Daza, a learned and virtuous priest; and after an examination from what she declared of herself, both judged her to be deluded by the devil, saying, such divine favors were not consistent with a life so full of imperfections as she exposed hers to be. Her alarms being increased by this decision, the gentleman advised her to speak with one of those first fathers of the Society of Jesus, who were lately come into Spain, and were eminent for their manner of prayer, and their experience in virtue and an interior life. This gentleman (to whom the saint says she owed her salvation and her comfort) bade her not be discouraged because she was not delivered from all her imperfections in one day, for God would do it by little and little; and said that he himself had remained whole years in reforming some very light things. By the means of certain friends, one of these fathers of the society visited her, to whom she made a very careful general confession, in which, with the confession of her sins, she gave him an account of all the particulars through the course of her whole life, relating to her manner of prayer and her late extraordinary favors. The father assured her these were divine graces; but told her she had neglected to lay the true foundation of an interior life, by the practice of a universal self-denial and mortification, by which a person learns to govern his senses, subdue entirely his passions, and cut off all inordinate attachments in the heart. That spiritual builder attempts to raise an edifice of devotion upon a quicksand, who does not begin by laying the foundation by humility, and that spirit of compunction and practice of general self-denial, which, being joined with a life of prayer, will be a crucifixion of the old man and a reformation of the affections of the new. By the advice of this confessor, St. Teresa made every day a meditation on some part of our Lord’s passion, and set herself heartily to practise some kinds of penance which were very inconsistent with her weak health; form on pretence of her great infirmities, she had thought little of any other mortifications than such as were general. By the prudent order of the same servant of God, though he judged her extraordinary gusts in prayer to be from God, she endeavored for two months to resist and reject them. But her resistance was in vain; and when she labored the most to turn herself from heavenly communications, our Lord overwhelmed her most abundantly with them. Saint Francis Borgia, at that time commissary-general of the Jesuits in Spain, coming to Avila, was desired to speak to the saint, and having heard her account of her prayer and state, he assured her, without hesitation, that the spirit of God was the author of her prayer; commended her resistance for a trial during the two months past, but advised her not to resist any elevations if our Lord was pleased to visit her so in prayer, provided she had no hand in endeavoring to procure them; and he prescribed her greater mortifications that she had hitherto undertaken.

Her confessor being called away, she chose another of the Society of Jesus. This was F. Balthasar Alvarez du Paz, a very spiritual man, who, through severe interior trials during the space of twenty years, arrived at the perfection of holy contemplation and an interior life.* This excellent director took notice of certain immortifications in the conduct of St. Teresa, contrary to her perfect sanctification, especially in her remaining still sensible to the satisfaction of ingenious, witty, and learned conversation, of which he put her in mind. Her answer was, that she had hoped her motive in it had been always for the best, and that it seemed a kind of ingratitude in her entirely to deny herself to certain friends. He told her she would do well to beg of God that he would direct her to do what was most pleasing to him, and for that purpose to recite every day the hymn, Veni Creator Spiritus. She did so for a considerable time, and one day while she was reciting that hymn she was favored with a rapture, in which she heard these words, which were spoken to her in the most interior part of her soul: “I will not have thee hold conversation with men, but with an gels.” She was exceedingly amazed at this voice, which was the first she heard in that manner: from that time she renounced all company but what business or the direct service of God obliged her to converse with17. The saint had afterwards frequent experience of such interior speeches after raptures, and explains how they are even more distinct and clear than those which men hear with their corporeal ears, and how they are also operative producing in the soul the strongest impressions and sentiments of virtue, and filling her with an assurance of their truth, and with joy and peace; whereas all the like illusions of the devil leave her much disquieted and disturbed, and produce no good effects, as she experienced two or three times.18 The saint earned these great heavenly comforts by severe sufferings: or rather God purified and improved her soul in his love and all virtues, both by his sweetest consolations, and the sharpest trials. She says of herself, under the name of a third person, what follows: “I know one who for these forty years (since God hath vouchsafed to honor her with special favors) hath not passed one day without anguish and various kinds of sufferings, besides sicknesses and great fatigues.”19 While F. Balthasar Alvarez was her di rector, she suffered grievous persecutions for three years, and, during two of them, extreme interior desolation of soul, intermixed with gleams of spiritual comfort and favors.20 It was her earnest desire that all her heavenly communications should be kept secret; but they were become the common subject of discourse in every conversation, and even in the public schools, and she was everywhere censured and ridiculed as an enthusiast or hypocrite: her confessor was persecuted on her account. Six religious men of note who had been her friends, after a conference on this subject, decided that she seemed deluded by the devil, and prevailed on F. Balthasar to go with them to her, and to order her not to communicate so frequently, (which was her greatest support and comfort,) not to live so strictly retired, and not to prolong her meditations beyond the time prescribed by the rule of her house. Her very friends reviled and shunned her as one who had a communication with the devil, and some stuck not to call her a devil. F. Balthasar, indeed, bade her be of good courage; for if she was deluded by the devil, he could not hurt her, provided she labored only to advance in charity, patience, humility, and all virtues. One day the saint, after having suffered a long and grievous desolation and affliction of spirit, suddenly fell into a rapture, and heard a voice interiorly saying to her: “Fear not, daughter; for it is I, and I will not forsake thee: do not fear.”21 Her mind was instantly quieted and composed, and filled with light; her soul was drowned in heavenly sweetness and joy, and being endued with strength and courage, she challenged the devils, making no more reckoning of them than of so many flies, and saying to herself, that God, whose servant she desired to be, is all-powerful, and under his protection nothing could hurt her; and as she pretended and desired no other thing than to please him, she joyfully met all sufferings and renounced all ease and contentment if she could only be so happy as to accomplish in all things his holy will.

A confessor whom the saint made use of once during the absence of F. Balthasar, told her that her prayer was an illusion, and commanded her when she saw any vision, to make the sign of the cross, and to insult the vision, as of a fiend. The saint assures us, that these visions and raptures carried with them their own evidence and demonstration, so that while they continued, it was impossible for her to harbor the least doubt but they were from God. Nevertheless, she knew them to be subordinate to the ordinary means which God has established to conduct our souls to him; and as all pretended visions must be false and condemned which should contradict the scripture or the authority of the church, so no such visions can exempt us from any duty towards the church or others: for God never derogates by private revelations from his general laws and established rules. Therefore, in simplicity, she obeyed this order of her confessor; and the saint assures us that Christ himself in several visions approved her conduct in so doing.22 She adds, that in these visions to use some exterior action of scorn was a terrible thing to her, as she could not possibly believe but that it was God. “And I besought our Lord,” says she, “with much instance to free me from being deceived; and this I did continually, and with abundance of tears. I begged it also by the prayers of SS. Peter and Paul; because, as I had my first vision on their festival, our Lord told me they would take such care of me, that I should not be deceived. Accordingly, I have often seen very clearly these two glorious saints, my very good patrons, upon my left hand. But this making signs of scorn when I saw the vision of our Lord, gave me excessive pain and trouble. For when I saw him present before my eyes, it was impossible for me to believe it was the devil. That I might not be perpetually crossing myself, I took a cross into my hands, and this I did almost always. I used not the signs of scorn often; for this afflicted me too much, and I remembered the affronts which the Jews put upon our Lord; and I humbly besought him to pardon me, since I did this in obedience to those whom he had appointed in his own place. He bid me not be troubled at it, for I did well in obeying them; but he said he would bring them to understand the truth;” which they afterwards did. “When they forbade me the use of mental prayer, our Lord appeared angry at it, and bade me tell them this was tyranny. He also gave me reasons to know that this was not the devil. Once when I held in my hand the cross which was at the end of my beads, he took it into his hand; and when he gave it me again it appeared to be of four great stones, incomparably more precious than diamonds. A diamond is but a counterfeit in comparison of these. They had the five wounds of our Lord engraved upon them after a most curious manner. He told me I should always see this cross so from that time forward, and so I did; for I no longer saw the matter of which the cross was made, but only those precious stones: though no other saw them but myself. When I was commanded to use this resistance to those favors, they increased much more, and I was never out of prayer. Even while I slept, I was uttering amorous complaints to our Lord, and his love was still increased in me. Nor was it in my power to give over thinking on him, and least of all when I endeavored at it. Yet I obeyed as well as I could, though I was able to do little or nothing in that respect. Our Lord never freed me from obeying them: yet he gave me all assurance that it was he, and instructed me what I should say to them. There grew in me so impetuous a love of God, that I found myself even dying through a desire to see him, (my true life,) nor did I know how or where to find this life, but by death,” &c.23

Bishop Yepez informs us,24 that this cross fell afterwards into the hands of the saint’s sister, Jane of Ahumada, who died at Alva; and he relates some miracles wrought by it. Pope Gregory XV., in the bull of the canonization of St. Teresa, commends this example of her obedience as the test of her spirit and of her visions, &c. “By the command of her confessors she humbly showed marks of contempt under the visions of our Lord, not without a great recompense of her obedience. She was wont to say, that she might be deceived in discerning visions and revelations; but could not in obeying superiors,” says this pope.

Though after two years spent in frequent interior desolation, the visits of the Holy Ghost restored her interior peace with great sweetness and spiritual light, which dispelled her former darkness, she continued to suffer a whole year longer a persecution from her friends, which seemed genera. F. Balthasar Alvarez, who was a spiritual man, but exceeding timorous durst not oppose the torrent, or decide with confidence that the Holy Ghos was the author of the wonderful operations in her prayer, though he continued to hear her confessions, which scarce any other person in the country would have done; and he comforted her, saying, that so long as she improved herself in virtue, the devil could do her no prejudice. She had learned to be so perfectly dead to herself, that, with regard to herself, she was not the least concerned what the whole world said or did concerning her; but the judgment of others, as to her state, gave her still frequent great alarms and fears, which contributed both to purify her soul, and to prove more clearly her spirit of prayer. In 1559, St. Peter of Alcantara, commissary-general, and visiter of the Franciscans, coming to Avila, conversed several days with St. Teresa. Few saints seem to have been more experienced in an interior life, or better versed in the supernatural gifts of prayer than this holy man. He discovered in Teresa the most certain marks of the wonderful graces of the Holy Ghost, expressed great compassion for her sufferings from the contradictions and slanders even of good men and learned doctors, and publicly declared, that except the truths of holy faith, nothing appeared to him more evident than that her soul was conducted by the Spirit of God; but he foretold her that she was not come to an end of her persecutions and sufferings. The authority of this glorious saint, the reputation of whose judgment and sanctity gave his confident decision the greatest weight, turned the stream exceedingly in favor of the holy virgin. It is no to be expressed what comfort and advantage she received from the conversation of this holy man, who strongly recommended her defence and direction to F. Balthasar, at that time her ordinary confessor, though he was shortly after removed to another place. After the trials already made, and the judgment passed by St. Peter of Alcantara, not only F. Balthasar, but many other persons of the greatest piety, learning, and authority, declared confidently that the marks and reasons were most clear and convincing, that in her ecstasies and prayer, she was conducted in a supernatural manner by the Divine Spirit. In her life, written by herself, we have a general account of the wonderful things she experienced. She sometimes suffered interior trials of darkness in the mind, and great anguish of soul, joined with extreme pain of bodily sickness, so that the powers of her soul seemed, on some occasions, suspended through excessive sorrow, almost as they were usually in raptures through excess of joy. For these afflictions God made her very ample amends; for they were always followed with a great abundance of favors, and her soul seemed to come out of them like gold more refined and pure out of the crucible, to see our Lord within herself. Then those troubles appeared little, which before seemed insupportable, and she was willing to return again to suffer still greater tribulations and persecutions; for all in the end bring more profit, though the saint says she never bore hers as she ought. Besides interior troubles and temptations, she sometimes met with exterior afflictions, and frequently saw devils in hideous figures; but she drove them away by the cross or holy water; and when the place was sprinkled with holy water they never returned.25 One day, while she was in prayer, she had a vision of hell, in which she seemed in spirit to be lodged in a place which she had deserved, that is, into which the vanities and dangerous amusements of her youth would have led her, had she not been reclaimed by the divine mercy. Nothing can be added to the energy with which she describes the pain she felt from an interior fire and unspeakable despair; the thick darkness, without the least glimpse of light, in which she knew not how, she says, one sees all that can afflict the sight: from torturing discontent and anguish, the dismal thought of eternity, and the agony of the soul by which she is her own executioner, and tears herself, as it were, to pieces, of which it is too little to say that it seems a butchering and a rending of herself. The saint says, that in comparison of these pains all torments of this world are no more than pictures, and burning here a trifle in respect of that fire. This was but a representation of those, torments; yet she says that after this vision all things seemed easy to her in this life, in comparison of one moment of those sufferings. She continued ever after most heartily to thank God for having mercifully delivered her, to weep for sinners, and to compassionate the blindness of so many who swallow down, as if they were nothing, even most grievous sins, which though she had been most wicked, she had by the divine mercy always shunned, as murmuring, detraction, covetousness, envy, and the like.26

If the various proofs by which it pleased God to try Teresa served only to purify her virtue, the heavenly communications with which she was favored gave her a new lustre. In her ecstasies, revelations were imparted to her, with visions, and other great favors, all which served continually to humble and fortify her soul, to give her a strong disrelish of the things of this life, and to inflame her with the most ardent desires of possessing God. In raptures she was sometimes elevated in the air, of which she gives the following description.27 Having said that the soul has a power of resisting in the prayer of Union, but not in raptures in which her soul was absolutely carried away, so that she could not stop it, she adds: “Sometimes my whole body was carried with it, so as to be raised up from the ground, though this was seldom. When I had a mind to resist these raptures, there seemed to me somewhat of so mighty force under my feet, which raised me up, that I know not what to compare it to. All my resistance availed little; for when our Lord hath a mind to do a thing, no power is able to stand against it. The effects of this rapture are great. First, the mighty power of the Lord is hereby made manifest; for when he is pleased, we are no more able to detain our bodies than our souls: we are not masters of them, but must, even against our will, acknowledge that we have a superior, that these favors come from him, and that of ourselves we are able to do nothing at all; and a great impression of humility is made on the soul. Further, I confess it also produced in me a great fear (which at first was extreme) to see that a massy body should be thus raised up from the earth. For though it be the spirit which draws it after it, and though it be done with great sweetness and delight, (if it be not resisted,) yet our senses are not thereby lost; at least I was so perfectly in my senses, that I understood I was then raised up There also appears hereby so great a majesty in him who can do this, that it makes even the hair of the head to stand on end; and there remains in the soul a mighty fear to offend so great a God. Yet this fear is wrapped up in an excessive love, which the soul conceives afresh towards him, whom she finds to bear so great a love to such wretched worms as we are. For he seems not content with drawing the soul to himself, but he will needs draw up the very body too, even while it is mortal, and compounded of so filthy an earth, as we have made it by our sins. This favor also leaves in the soul a wonderful disengagement from all the things of this world. In raptures of the spirit alone there seems a total loosening of the soul from all things, as it concerns the spirit. But here it seems that also the body partakes of this disengagement. And it breeds such a new aversion and disgust of the things of this world, that it makes even our life much more painful to us,” &c.

Bishop Yepez relates,28 that the saint, when she was prioress of the convent of St. Joseph at Avila, as she was going to receive the communion at the hands of the bishop, Don Alvarez of Mendoza, was raised in a rapture higher than the grate through which (as is usual in nunneries) she was to receive the holy communion; of which also sister Mary Baptist, prioress of Valladolid, was an eye-witness with others. Likewise Bannes, a very learned theologian of the order of St. Dominic, whose name is famous in the schools, and who was for some time confessor of St. Teresa, testified that the saint one day, in public, as she was raised in the air in the choir, held herself by some rails, and prayed thus: “Lord, suffer not, for such a favor, a wicked woman to pass for virtuous.” He mentions other instances in the public choir; but says, that at her earnest request, this never happened to her in public during the last fifteen years of her life. Richard of St. Victor29 teaches, that raptures arise from a vehement fire of divine love in the will, or from excessive spiritual joy, or from a beam of heavenly light darling upon the understanding. We learn from St. Teresa, that these three effects of an external grace usually concur in raptures. She says, the faculties or powers of the soul are lost by being most straitly united to God, so that she thought she neither saw, nor heard, nor perceived anything about her; but this was only for a very short space during the highest part of some raptures: during the rest of the rapture, the soul, though she can do nothing of herself as to the exterior or the voluntary motions of the body, understands and hears things as if they were spoken from afar off. When she returns to herself, her powers continue in some degree absorbed sometimes for two or three days. In these raptures a soul clearly sees, and, as it were, feels how perfectly a nothing all earthly things are; how gross an error, and abominable a lie it is, to give the name of honor to what the world calls so real honor being built on truth, not on a lie. A like idea she has of the vanity and folly of the love of money, and of the baseness of earthly pleasures; and she learns that nothing is really true but what conduces to virtue, and makes no account of anything which brings us not nearer to God. The greatness and goodness of God, the excess of his love, the sweetness of his service, and such other great truths are placed in a great light, and made sensibly manifest to her: all which she understands with a clearness which can be no way expressed: the impression whereof remains afterwards in the soul. In the rapture she acquires also a liberty and dominion, which results from her perfect disengagement from creatures, upon which she looks down, as raised above them, and above herself; and she is filled with confusion that she should have been so miserable as to have ever been entangled by them. She looks back upon her former blindness with amazement, and considers with compassion the misery of those who still remain in the like. But no effects of a rapture are so remarkable or profitable as the clear sight which the soul receives in it of her own imperfections, Laseness, and nothingness, together with the most profound sentiments of humility, and on the other side, a great knowledge of the goodness, majesty, and boundless power of God, with the most ardent love and desires of speedily possessing him forever.30 Hence St. Teresa, when her soul was deeply wounded, and totally inflamed, as it were, by a spark falling from the immense fire of the love our Lord bore her, often repeated, with incredible earnestness, that verse: As the hart panteth after the fountains of water, so panteth my soul after thee, O God.31 Among the visions which the saint had of the joys of heaven, in one she saw her parents in bliss;32 in others, much greater secrets of that glorious kingdom were shown her, at which she remained amazed, and was ever after exceedingly moved entirely to despise all things below; but she found it impossible to give any description of the least part of what she saw, the brightness of the sun being mean and obscure in comparison of that light, which no human imagination can paint to itself, nor any of the other things which she then understood, and that with a sovereign delight, all the senses enjoying a superior degree of sweetness which cannot be declared. She remained once about an hour in that condition, and our Lord showing most admirable things, said to her: “See what they lose who are against me: do not forbear to tell them of it.” “But, O Lord,” said the saint, “what good will my telling do them, whom their own malice blindeth, unless thou givest them light?” She adds, that the contempt of this world, and the desires of heaven with which these visions inspired her, could not be declared. “Hence also,” says she, “I lost the fear of death, of which I had formerly a great apprehension.” Such was the value she learned to set upon the glory and happiness of loving and praising God in his eternal kingdom, that for the least degree of increase in it, she should have been most willing to suffer all that can be imagined to the end of the world, though to her, who deserved hell, the lowest place in heaven would be an infinite and most undeserved mercy.

She sometimes saw the mystery of one God in three persons, in so clear and wonderful manner as much comforted and amazed her; sometimes Christ in the bosom of his Father, and frequently his humanity in its glorified state, so beautiful and delightful that she comprehended that, to behold one glorified body, especially the adorable humanity of Christ, would alone be a great felicity.33 She often heard his Majesty say to her, with demonstration of great love: “Thou shalt now be mine, and I am shine.” She was favored with many visions in the holy eucharist; and sometimes with apparitions of the Blessed Virgin, St. Joseph, and other saints; and frequently of angels of different orders standing near her, though she did not know their orders, for they never told her this. One of these visions she describes as follows:34 “I saw an angel very near me, towards my left side, in a corporal form, (which is not usual with me; for though angels are often represented to me, it is only by the intellectual vision.) This angel appeared rather little than big, and very beautiful; his face was so inflamed that he seemed to be one of those highest angels, called seraphim, who seem to be all on fire with divine love. He had in his hand a long golden dart, and at the end of the point methought there was a little fire; and I conceived that he thrust it several times through my heart after such a manner that it passed through my very bowels; and when he drew it out, me thought it pulled them out with it, and left me wholly inflamed with a great love of God.” She says that this wound caused a great pain in her soul, which also affected her body; but this extremity of pain was accompanied with excessive delight, and, while it continued, she went up and down like one transported, not caring to see or speak, but only to burn and be consumed with that pain, which was a greater happiness to her than any that can be found in created things. The saint’s desire to die, that she might be speedily united to God, was tempered by her ardent desire to suffer for his love: and the excess of his love for her, and of the comforts which he so often afforded her, made her esteem it as of no account that she should desire to suffer afflictions for his sake. And she writes: “It seems to me there is no reason why I should live but only to suffer; and accordingly this is the thing which I beg with most affection of God. Sometimes I say to him with my whole heart; Lord, either to die or to suffer, I beg no other thing for myself. It comforts me also to hear the clock strike; for so me-thinks I draw a little nearer to the seeing of God, since one hour more of my life is past.”35 The saint mentions several instances of persons of remarkable virtue, some in a secular, others in a religious state, of her own nunnery, and of several other orders, whose souls she saw in visions freed from purgatory through the prayers of devout persons, and carried up to heaven, several hours or days after their departure; though their penitential and holy lives, their patience in long illnesses, their great regularity in their convent, and their tears, humility, and compunction at their death, which edified all who knew them, had persuaded her they would be admitted straight to glory. Besides the particular instances she relates, she adds she had seen the same of many others. “But among all the souls which I have seen, I have not known any one to have escaped purgatory except three, F Peter of Alcantara, a religious man of the order of St. Dominic, (F. Peter Ivagnez,) and a Carmelite friar.”36 She was given to understand that this last was exempted from purgatory by the indulgences granted to those of his order, he having been a religious man, and having faithfully observed his profession; “which,” says she, “I suppose was signified to me to imply that more is required to make a religious man than the wearing of the habit,” namely, the spirit and faithful observance of his rule. Spiritual graces require this condition. All these visions and raptures tended exceedingly to the spiritual improvement of the saint in humility, divine love, and all other virtues. By them she was advertised of all her failings, and made continually more and more courageous, and perfect in the practice of all virtues; she learned that it is a misery, and a subject of patience, to converse in the world, to behold the comedy or puppet-show of this life, and to be employed in complying with the necessities of a mortal body by eating and sleeping, which captivate the mind, and are the occupation of our banishment from God. When she once grieved that all her Spanish pious books were taken from her, our Lord said to her: “Let not this trouble thee; I will give thee a living book.”37 This she experienced by mental prayer, and his heavenly communications. She learned by these raptures great heavenly mysteries, secrets, and things to come, which she foretold; and, as she assures us, not the least tittle of what was thus revealed to her ever failed to come to pass, though, at the time of her revelation and prediction, all appearances were contrary. She mentions that God, through her prayers, brought several sinners to repentance, and granted great graces to many others, as she learned by revelations. Also, that at her earnest request he restored sight to one that was almost quite blind, and health to some others laboring under painful and dangerous distempers.38

The account which this saint has drawn up of these visions, revelations, and raptures, carries with it the intrinsic marks of evidence. It is not possible attentively to peruse it, and not be convinced of the sincerity of the author, by the genuine simplicity of the style, scrupulous nicety, and fear of exaggerating the least circumstance, making what might be doubtful appear certain, or in the least advancing any thing which might be false, of allowing any thing to conjectures; also by her unfeigned humility, which makes her speak everywhere against herself, omit nothing that could tend to her disgrace, magnify the least faults of her life, according to the apprehensions of her pure and timorous conscience, and leave everywhere the strongest impressions of her guilt, though she was commanded by her confessor not to exceed moderation in speaking of her sins: and though, as bishop Yepez (who was thoroughly acquainted with her, and knew her whole life) observes, could she have instanced in any other sins in particular, she would certainly have been more explicit; and she was obliged to acknowledge that God had preserved her from detraction, envy, impurity, and the like vices. The saint assures us, that she may be deceived, but would not lie in the least point, and would rather die a thousand times.39 Her doctrine is called by the church, in the prayer of her festival, heavenly, is conformable to the spirit of the saints, and highly approved by the most experienced proficients in divine contemplation. All acknowledge that the most secret adyta of the sanctuary are here laid open, and the most abstruse maxims, which experience alone can teach but no words utter, are explained with greater perspicuity than the subject seemed capable of bearing and this was done by an illiterate woman,* who wrote alone, without the assistance of books, without study, or acquired abilities, who entered upon the recital of the divine favors with sentiments of humility and reluctance, submitting every thing without reserve to the judgment of her confessor, and much more to that of the church, and complaining that by this task she was hindered from spinning. The circumstances, and the manner of the narration in each part, furnish a chain of corroborating proofs in favor of the work; and as Mr. Woodhead observes,40 her frequent pertinent digressions, the devotions, ejaculations, and colloquies with our Lord, which she everywhere intersperses from her habit of prayer, the prolix parentheses, and the iterated apologies for these surprises of herself, show that neither her matter nor her method was pre-designed. The heroic sentiments and practice of all the most sublime virtues, with which this book is interspersed in every page, suffice alone to evince that what is here written could not be founded on chimerical illusions, or be the effect of a heated imagination. In the raptures and visions of this saint, we admire, indeed, the divine goodness in his infinite condescension; but what we ought chiefly to consider and study herein, are the great lessons of virtue which we meet with in the relation of these miraculous favors and in the wonderful example of this saint.

How perfectly she excelled in obedience appears from this circumstance, that on all occasions she preferred this virtue to her revelations, saying in them she might be deceived by the devil, but could not in obedience. In founding her convents and many other things, when she had received a command from Christ, she availed not herself hereof, but waited till, by the rules of obedience, she was authorized to execute the divine commission; depending, however, steadfastly on him who promised or commanded the undertaking, that he would carry the same by the regular means into execution: in which she was never disappointed. F. Balthasar Alvarez said of her: “Do you see Teresa of Jesus? What sublime graces has she received of God! yet she is like the most tractable little child with regard to every thing I can say to her.” She called obedience the soul of a religious life, the short and sure road to perfect sanctity, the most powerful means to subject our will perfectly to that of God, and to overcome our passions, and which is the sacrifice of our whole lives to God. “I esteem it a greater grace,” said she, “to pass one day in humble obedience, putting forth sighs to God from a contrite and afflicted heart, than to spend several days in prayer. Is it nothing great to abandon in some sense the enjoyment of God, in order to do his will manifested to us in obedience? Long prayer will not advance a soul at a time when she is called to obedience,” &c.41 She used often to repeat: “Obedience is put to the test in different commands.” All murmuring, excuses, or delays she condemns as contrary to obedience. As for her own part, even when superior, she studied by many contrivances to obey others, and always obeyed her confessor as she would have done God himself.

A desire most perfectly to obey God in all things, moved her to make a vow never with full knowledge to commit a venial sin, and in every action to do what seemed to her most perfect; a vow which, in persons less perfect, would be unlawful, because it would be an occasion of transgressions. Humility, the root of true obedience, and the faithful parent of other virtues, was that in which she placed her strength, and her humility increased in proportion as she received from God the more extraordinary favors, which she saw to be his pure gifts, without her contributing any to them; and, because she profited so little by them, she condemned and humbled herself the more. The virtues of others seemed to her more meritorious, and she conceived that there was not in the world one worse than herself.42 Hence she was the more inflamed to love and praise the gracious goodness of God, to whom alone she entirely ascribed his gifts, not usurping an atom of them to herself, and separating from them her infidelities and miseries, which was all that was of her own growth, and of which, by an infused light, she had the most extensive and fullest knowledge, and the most sincere feeling. Hence, seated in the centre of her own baseness and unworthiness, she was always covered with confusion and shame in the divine presence, as a spouse blushing at the remembrance of her treasons and infidelities towards the best and greatest of lords and husbands. She treated with all men confounded in herself, as unworthy to appear before them. She sincerely looked upon herself as deserving every sort of disgrace and contempt, as one who deserved hell, and whose only support against despair was the infinite mercy of God: and she endeavored to convince others of her wretchedness and grievous sinfulness with as great solicitude and affection as an ambitious proud man desires to pass for virtuous. There are many who affect to use this language of themselves, but cannot bear from others any contempt or injurious treatment. This St. Teresa received on all occasions with great inward joy, and exceedingly desired; and all honors and marks of esteem were most grievous to her. This satisfaction which the heart feels in its own just contempt is, as it were, the marrow and pith of true humility, says bishop Yepez.43 These dispositions were in her so perfect as to surprise above all other things those who were best acquainted with her interior, and are sufficiently discoverable in her writings.

Nothing is more dangerous or nice, and nothing more difficult, than for a man to speak much of himself without discovering a complacency in himself in speaking superfluously concerning what belongs to him, and without discovering symptoms of secret self-love and pride, even in a studied affectation to disguise them, or in coloring or suppressing his own disgraces or weaknesses, and in displaying covertly his own talents and advantages.* And nothing seems a clearer proof how perfectly our saint was dead to herself by sincere humility than the artless manner in which she constantly, and not in certain occasions only, speaks of herself with a view to debase herself in every thing. Her exterior conduct breathed this sincere disposition of her soul. Though superior and foundress, she chose unaffectedly the greatest humiliations that could be practised in her order. If she pronounced a word in the divine office with a false accent, she prostrated herself in penance; confessed in chapter, and humbled herself for the least faults of inadvertence with surprising humility and alacrity, and underwent the most humbling penances in the refectory and elsewhere with the same. It was her pleasure to steal secretly into the choir after the office, to fold up the cloaks of the sisters, to choose for her part of work to sweep the most filthy places in the yard, and to perform the lowest offices in serving at table, or in the kitchen, in which place she was often seen suddenly absorbed in God, with the utensils or instruments of her business in her hands; for every place was to her a sanctuary, and no employment hindered her from offering to God a continual sacrifice of humility, and of ardent love and praise. Nothing is more admirable than the lessons of humility which she gives in her writings, and which she inculcates to her religious, recommending to them especially never to excuse themselves in faults, never to murmur, but to rejoice in abjection; never to justify themselves when accused falsely, (unless charity or prudence make it necessary;) to abhor every thought or mark of pre-eminence or distinction of ranks, which she extremely exaggerates as the bane of all true humility and virtue in a religious community, &c.44 It was her usual exhortation that, though we cannot arrive at the perfection of other virtues, or at a perfect imitation of our Blessed Redeemer, we can humble ourselves low enough, and be ashamed to fall so far short of Christ, our model, in the cordial love of contempt, and in embracing humiliations, which he underwent for our sake, but which are our due and remedy. She teaches that false humility is attended with interior trouble, uneasiness, and darkness in the mind in the confession of faults, and in embracing humiliations; but that true humility does these things with alacrity and interior light. She used to repeat to her sisters that sincere humility is the groundwork of prayer, this whole edifice being founded in it; and that as humility is the foundation, so is it the measure of our progress in the spirit of prayer, and all other virtues.

Her spirit of penance was not less edifying than her humility. Who without floods of tears for his own insensibility, can call to mind the wonderful compunction with which the saints wept and punished themselves their whole lives for the lightest transgressions? St. Teresa having had the misfortune in her youth to have been betrayed into certain dangerous amusements and vanities, though she would not for the world have ever consented knowingly to any mortal sin, had always hell and her sins before her eyes, penetrated with the compunction of a Magdalen or a Thais. Her love of penance, after she was well instructed in that virtue, made her desire to set no bounds to her mortifications, by which she chastised and subdued her flesh by long watchings in prayer, by rigorous disciplines, hair cloths, and austere fasts. Moved by this spirit of penance, she restored the original severity of her rule, and, notwithstanding her bad health, observed its fasts of eight months in the year, and other austerities, unless some grievous fit of illness made them absolutely impossible. On such occasions it was with great repugnance that she consented to use some small dispensations, but said she understood this repugnance proceeded rather from self-love than from a spirit of penance. Her prudence and pious zeal for religious discipline and penance, appear in the caution with which she guarded against the granting dispensations too easily on account of weak health, which opens a wide door to all relaxations in religious orders. She tells her nuns, that it is often the devil that suggests the idea of imaginary indispositions, or that sloth and immortification magnifies those that are slight; that it is often a mark of self-love to complain of little ailments, and that the more the body is indulged, the more numerous and craving its demands and necessities grow.45 She insists on the universal self-denial, by which a religious person studies to do his own will in nothing: which practice, if it sounds harsh, will be found sweet, and will bring much contentment, holy peace, and comfort.46 St. Francis of Assisium seems not to have carried the love of holy poverty higher than St. Teresa, though she mitigated some points of her first reform in this particular. If, even in secular princes, excess, vanities, and superfluities are sinful, how carefully ought the shadow of such abuses to be banished a religious life! It was her saying, that the least inordinate attachment hinders the flight of a soul upwards; to prevent which she obliged her nuns often to change every thing they used; reduced every thing in their mean clothing, coarse diet, and cells to what was indispensably necessary. She speaks most pathetically against superfluous or stately buildings.47 She worked with her hands to gain a subsistence. The modesty of the countenance of this holy virgin was a silent strong exhortation to the love of purity, as bishop Yepez testifies, who was persuaded she never felt in her whole life any importunate assaults against that virtue.48 When one asked her advice about impure temptations, she answered that she knew not what they meant. A noble and generous disposition of soul inclined our saint to conceive the most tender sentiments of gratitude towards all men from whom she had ever received the least service. The gratitude she expressed to God for his immense favors was derived from a higher source.49 In her writings she everywhere speaks with respect and affection of her persecutors; and, putting pious constructions on their words and actions, represents them always as perfect servants of God, and her true friends. Contumelies she always bore in silence and with joy. She often said of those that reviled her, that they were the only persons that truly knew her. Under grievous slanders with which she was attacked at Seville, one asked her how she could hold her peace. She answered, with a smile, “No music is so agreeable to my ears. They have reason for what they say, and speak truth.” Her invincible patience under all pains of sickness, provocations, and disappointments; her firm confidence in God, and in her crucified Redeemer under all storms and difficulties; and her undaunted courage in bearing incredible labors and persecutions, and in encountering dangers, cannot be sufficiently admired. God once said to her in a vision, “Dost thou think that merit consists in enjoying? no: but rather in working, in suffering, and in loving. He is most beloved by my Father, on whom he lays the heaviest crosses, if these sufferings are accepted and borne with love. By what can I better show my love for thee than by choosing for thee what I chose for myself?”

An eminent spirit of prayer, founded in sincere humility, and perfect self-denial, was the great means by which God raised this holy virgin to such an heroic degree of sanctity. If she remained so long imperfect in virtue and was slow in completing the victory over herself, it was because for some time she did not apply herself with a proportioned assiduity to the practice of devout prayer, some of her confessors having diverted her from it on account of her ill health and exterior employments: which mistaken advice was to her of infinite prejudice, as she grievously laments. F. Balthasar Alvarez took much pains with very little progress for twenty years on the same account.50 And sister Gertrude Moor, the devout Benedictin nun, complains she had been led into the like false persuasion by directors unacquainted with the rules of an interior life. A right method of prayer replenished all the saints with a spirit of devotion which wrought a wonderful reformation of their affections, and changed their interior so as to make them on a sudden spiritual men. St. Teresa inculcates above all things in her writings the incomparable advantages of this spirit of prayer, and gives excellent lessons upon that important subject.* Our divine Redeemer, and the mystery of his incarnation and death were a great object of her adoration and most tender devotion. She suggests this often as the most easy method for beginners to accustom themselves to the familiar use of aspirations, that they imagine themselves in spirit conversing with Christ, representing his humanity as present with them, whether by their side or in their heart. She observes that all religious persons are not called to contemplation,51 but all can use assiduous prayer with aspirations. It is a maxim which she strongly inculcates, that the most advanced ought not entirely to abandon the method of sometimes representing to themselves Christ as man, and considering him as the object of their devotions, and this sometimes occupied her soul in her highest raptures.52 The opposite doctrine, that to contemplate the humanity of Christ belongs only to the imperfect, and that perfect contemplatives consider only things purely spiritual, is an illusion of the false mystics.53 Her singular devotion to the holy sacrament of the altar appears in her works. She used to say, that one communion is enough to enrich a soul with all spiritual treasures of grace and virtue, if she put no obstacles. To unite ourselves most frequently and most ardently with Christ in the holy eucharist she called our greatest means of strength and comfort in our state of banishment till we shall be united to him in glory. Her ardor to approach the holy communion, and her joy and comfort in presence of the blessed sacrament are not to be expressed. In her most earnest prayers she conjured Almighty God, for the sake of his divine Son present on our altars, to stem the torrent of vice on earth, and preserve the world from those horrible profanations by which his mercy is insulted.54 This her devotion sprang from that inflamed love of God which all her actions and writings breathe;55 From the same source proceeded her burning zeal for the conversion of sinners, whose souls she continually recommended to the divine mercy with many tears,56 charging her religious never to cease from that office of charity, and from praying also for those ministers of God who labor for the salvation of souls.57 Her grief for the wicked was inexpressible, and she was ready to suffer with joy a thousand deaths for one soul. She will have the divine love in all souls to be both contemplative and active, yet so that the exterior actions proceed from, and be animated by the interior fire; or be flowers of this plant, the root of which is the vehement affection of love reigning in the heart, from which they must draw their whole substance without any foreign mixtures: thus a preacher ought so entirely to have the divine honor in view as not to think even indirectly of pleasing men.58 The first among the external actions in which divine love is exercised, she everywhere reckons patience in suffering persecutions and trials; and she says, that he who loves, finds his delight in sufferings, and gathers strength from them.59 The second great exterior employment of love consists in laboring to extend the kingdom of God by advancing the sanctification of souls, but of our own in the first place. These and other exercises of love, and above all things the will of God (perfectly to acquiesce in which is our sovereign happiness) were the motives which tempered the earnestness of her desire immediately to see God in his glory,60 which yet she indulged by the most ardent and amorous sighs, crying out: “O death, I know not who can fear thee, since it is by thee that we find life!” &c.61 And, “O life, enemy to my happiness when will it be allowed to close thee? I have care of thee, because God is pleased to preserve thee, and thou belongest to him; but be not ungrateful. How is my banishment prolonged! All time indeed is short to gain eternity.” No saint expresses stronger or more lively sentiments of fear of being eternally separated from God;62 but these fears she resolved into humble hope in the pure clemency of God. The operations of the same divine Spirit are various. Though fear, humility, love, and compunction reign in all devout souls, the Holy Ghost excites in some this, and in others that, virtue in a more sensible manner, and in some this, in others that, gift appears more eminent.*

St. Teresa, burning with a desire to promote with her whole strength the greater sanctification of her own soul and that of others, and of laboring to secure by the most perfect penance her eternal salvation, concerted a project of establishing a reform in her order. The rule which had been drawn up by Albert, patriarch of Jerusalem, was very austere; but in process of time several relaxations were introduced, and a mitigation of this order was approved by a bull of Eugenius IV. in 1431. In the convent of the Incarnation at Avila, in which the saint lived, other relaxations were tolerated, especially that of admitting too frequent visits of secular friends at the grate in the parlor or speak-house. St. Teresa one day expressing a great desire of living according to the original institute of the order, her niece Mary d’Ocampe, then a pensioner in that house, offered one thousand ducats to found a house for such a design, and a secular widow lady Guyomar d’Ulloa zealously encouraged the design; which was approved by St. Peter of Alcantara, St. Lewis Bertrand, and the bishop of Avila, and the saint was commanded by Christ in several visions and revelations which she recounts to undertake the same, with assured promises of success and his divine protection. The lady Guyomar procured the license and approbation of F. Angelo de Salazar, provincial of the Carmelites in those parts. No sooner had the project taken wind but he was obliged, by the clamors which were raised against it, to recall his license, and a furious storm fell upon the saint, through the violent opposition which was made by all her fellow nuns, the nobility, the magistrates, and the people. She suffered the most outrageous calumnies with perfect calmness of mind and silence, contenting herself with earnestly recommending to God his own work. In the mean time, For Yvagnez, a Dominican, esteemed one of the most virtuous and learned men of that age, secretly encouraged the saint, and assisted madam Guyomar to pursue the enterprise, together with madam Jane of Ahumada, a married sister of the saint, who began with her husband to build a new convent a Avila, in 1561, but in such a manner that the world took it for a house in tended for herself and her family. Their son Gonzales, a little child, happened to be crushed by a wall which fell upon him in raising this building and was carried without giving any signs of life to Teresa, who taking him in her arms, put up her ardent sighs to God, and after some minutes restored him perfectly sound to his mother, as was proved in the process of the saint’s canonization.63 The child used afterwards often to tell his aunt, that it was a duty incumbent on her to secure his salvation by her prayers and instructions, seeing it was owing to her that he was not long ago in heaven. After a most virtuous life he died soon after St. Teresa, in extraordinary sentiments of piety. A great strong wall of this house falling in the night as soon as it was finished, many were discouraged; but the saint said it was the effect of the impotent rage and jealousy of the devil. The lady Louisa de la Cerda, sister to the duke of Medina Celi, being in the deepest affliction for the loss of her husband, count Arias Pardo, prevailed upon the provincial of the Carmelites to send an order to Teresa at Avila, sixty miles from Toledo, to repair to her in that city. The saint remained in her house above half a year, and promoted exceedingly the spirit and practice of eminent virtue, not only with the lady, who had for her the highest veneration but with her whole household and many other persons. All this time she abated nothing of her usual mortifications and devotions; and her provincial no sooner released her from the tie of obedience which he had imposed on her of living in the house of this lady, and left it to her choice, either to go or stay, but she returned to her monastery of the Incarnation at Avila. A little before she came back, at the time of the election of a prioress, several of the nuns were very desirous she should be chosen for that office, the very thought of which very much afflicted her; and though she was willing readily to endure any kind of torment for God, she could not prevail with herself to accept of this charge: for, besides the trouble in a numerous community, such as this was, and other reasons, she never loved to be in office, fearing it would greatly endanger her conscience. She therefore wrote to the nuns who were warmest for having her chosen, earnestly entreating them not to be so mach her enemies. Our Lord one day when she was thanking him that she was absent during the noise of the election, said to her in a vision: “Since thou desirest a cross, a heavy one is prepared for thee. Decline it not, for I will support thee: go courageously and speedily.” Fearing this cross was the office of prioress, she wept bitterly; but soon after heard that another person was chosen; for which she gave God most sincere thanks,64 and set out for Avila. The same evening that she arrived at Avila the pope’s brief for the erection of her new convent was brought thither. St. Peter of Alcantara, who happened to pass that way, Don Francisco de Salsedo, (a pious gentleman with whom St. Peter lodged,) and the famous Dr. Daza persuaded the bishop to concur, and the new monastery of St. Joseph was established by his authority, and made subject to him, on St. Bartholomew’s day in 1562, the blessed sacrament being placed in the church, and the saint’s niece, who had given a thousand ducats, and three other novices, taking the habit. Hereupon a great noise was raised against the saint in the town; the prioress of the Incarnation sent for her from St. Joseph’s, and the provincial being called, the saint was ordered to remain in her old monastery of the Incarnation, though they were somewhat pacified when the saint had clearly shown them that she had not taken the least step contrary to her rule, or against the duty of obedience. The governor and magistrates would have had the new monastery demolished, had not F. Bannes, the learned Dominican, dissuaded them from so hasty a resolution. Amidst the most violent slanders and persecutions the saint remained calm, recommending to God his own work, and was comforted by our Lord, who said to her in a vision: “Dost thou not know that I am Mighty? What dost thou fear? Be assured the monastery shall not be dissolved. I will accomplish all I have promised thee.” In the mean time Don Francis of Salsedo and other friends to the new establishment deputed a very pious priest, named Gonzales de Aranda, to go to court to solicit in its favor, and at length all things were successfully concluded by a new brief from Rome, by which the foundation of the house without rents was confirmed, and towards he end of the year 1562 the bishop prevailed with the provincial to send Teresa to this new convent, whither she was followed by four fervent nuns from the old house. One of these was chosen prioress; but the bishop soon after obliged Teresa to take upon herself that charge, and her incomparable prudence in governing others appeared henceforward in her whole conduct. The mortification of the will and senses, and the exercise of assiduous prayer, were made the foundation of her rule: strict enclosure was established, with almost perpetual silence. The most austere poverty was an essential part of the rule, without any settled revenues: the nuns wore habits of coarse serge, and sandals instead of shoes, lay on straw, and never ate flesh. St. Teresa admitted to the habit several fervent virgins; but would not have above thirteen nuns in this house for fear of dangers of relaxations and other inconveniences which are usually very great in numerous houses. In nunneries which should be founded with revenues, and not to subsist solely on alms, she afterwards allowed twenty to be received. But this regulation as to the number is not everywhere observed in this order. The fervor of these holy nuns was such that the little convent of St. Joseph seemed a paradise of angels on earth, every one in it studying to copy the spirit of the great model before them. The general of the order, John Baptist Rubeo of Ravenna, who usually resided at Rome, coming into Spain and to Avila in 1566, was infinitely charmed with the conversation and sanctity of the foundress, and with the wise regulations of the house, and he gave St. Teresa full authority to found other convents upon the same plan.*

Out of an ardent zeal for the conversion of sinners, she asked his leave to establish also some convents of religious men, and the general allowed her at first to erect two. St. Teresa passed five years in her convent of St. Joseph with thirteen fervent nuns, whom she discreetly exercised in every sort of mortification, obedience, and all religious exercises, being herself the first and most diligent not only at prayer, but also in spinning, sweeping the house, or working in the kitchen. Among these holy virgins many were of high birth; but having renounced the world they thought of no distinction but that of surpassing each other in humility, penance, and affection for one another and for their holy mother: they abounded with heavenly consolations, and their whole lives were a continued course of penitential exercises and contemplation; they never suffered their prayer to be interrupted night or day, as far as the weakness and frailty of our mortal state would admit. For St. Teresa declared assiduous prayer, silence, close retirement, and penance, to be the four pillars of the spiritual edifice she had raised, and the fundamental constitutions of their state. In August, 1567, St. Teresa went to Medina del Campo, and, having conquered many difficulties, founded there a second convent. In her history of the foundation of this house, she gives her spiritual daughters excellent advice concerning mental prayer, saying that it consists not so much in thinking or forming reflections (of which every one is not equally capable) as in loving; in resolving to serve God, to suffer for him joyfully, and to do his will; and in asking grace for this. Her instructions concerning obedience are not less important; for it is happy obedience and perfect resignation that give the inestimable treasure of liberty of spirit, by which a soul desires nothing, yet possesses all things, neither fears nor covets the things of this world, and is neither disturbed by crosses nor softened by pleasures. The countess de la Cerda, whom St. Teresa had visited at Toledo, most earnestly desiring to found a convent of this order at her town of Malagon, the saint and the countess attended that work. Thence St. Teresa went to Valladolid, and there founded another nunnery. She was much affected with the virtue and happy death of a young nun in this house, and has given an amiable description of her perfect humility, meekness, patience, obedience, fervor, and perpetual silence and prayer. She never meddled in any matter that concerned her not, and therefore she discerned no defect in any one but in herself. In her last sickness she said to her sisters: “We ought not so much as turn our eyes but for the love of God, and to do what is acceptable to him.” Another time she said, “It would be a torment to her to take satisfaction in anything that was not God,” (or for him.) St. Teresa made her next foundation at Toledo. She met here with violent opposition, and great obstacles, and had no more than four or five ducats when she began the edifice. But she said: “Teresa and this money are indeed nothing; but God, Teresa, and these ducats suffice for the accomplishment of the undertaking.”

At Toledo, a young woman who had gained a reputation of virtue, petitioned to be admitted to the habit, but added “I will bring with me my Bible.” “What!” said the saint, “your Bible? Do not come to us. We are poor women who know nothing but how to spin, and to do what we are bid.” By that word she discovered in the postulant an inclination to vanity, and dangerous curiosity and wrangling; and the extravagances into which that woman afterwards fell, justified her discernment and penetration. St. Teresa had met with two Carmelite friars at Medina del Campo, who were desirous to embrace her reform, F. Antony of Jesus, then prior there, and F. John of the Cross. As soon, therefore, as an opportunity offered itself, she founded a convent for religious men at a poor village called Durvelo, in 1568, (of which F. Antony was appointed prior,) and, in 1569, a second for men at Pastrana, both in extreme poverty and austerity, especially the latter After these two foundations, St. Teresa left to St. John of the Cross the care of all other foundations that should be made for the religious men. At Pastrana she also established a convent for nuns. Prince Ruy Gomez de Sylva, a favorite courtier of Philip II., who had founded these convents at Pastrana, dying, his princess in the sudden excess of her grief made her religious profession in this nunnery; but when this passion abated, claimed many exemptions, and would still maintain the dignity of princess; so that St. Teresa, finding she could not be brought to the humility of her profession, lest relaxations should be introduced in her order, sent a precept to the nuns to leave that house to her, and retire to people a new convent in Segovia. Afterwards she would not easily admit ladies who had been long accustomed to rule. When bishop Yepez entreated her once to admit to the habit a certain postulant, who was a lady of the first quality, advanced in years, and very rich both in money and vassalages, she would never hear of it, saying, that great ladies who have been long accustomed to have their own will, seldom sufficiently learn humility, obedience, and simplicity, without which they are more likely to overturn than to support a religious order.65 In 1570, St. Teresa founded a convent at Salamanca, and another at Alva. Pope Pius V. appointed apostolic visiters to inquire into relaxations in religious orders, that they might be reformed. Dr. Peter Fernandez, a Dominican friar famous for his virtue and learning, was nominated visiter of the Carmelites in that part of Spain, and in the discharge of his office, coming to Avila, he found great fault in the monastery of the Incarnation in which were fourscore nuns, that enclosure and solitude were not better observed. To remedy these disorders he sent for St. Teresa, who had formerly consulted him in her doubts, and commanded her to take upon her the charge of prioress. It was a double affliction to the saint to be separated from her own dear daughters, and to be placed at the head of a house which opposed her reform with jealousy and warmth. The nuns also refused to obey her. She told them that she came not to command or instruct, but to serve and be instructed by the last among them. It was her custom to gain the hearts first before she laid her commands; and having by sweetness and humility won the affections of this whole community, she easily re-established discipline, shut up the parlors, and excluded the frequent visits of seculars. At the end of the three years of her superiority, the nuns much desired to detain her, but she was appointed prioress of her reformed convent of St. Joseph in the same town. The provincial ejected St. John of the Cross and other fathers whom St. Teresa had appointed confessors to the house of the Incarnation, and involved her in the persecution he raised against them. She, however, continued to settle new foundations at Segovia, Veas, Seville, Caravaca, Villa-Nuova, Palencia, Granada, Soria, (in the diocese of Osma,) and Burgos. The mitigated Carmelites complained loudly of the great number of foundations which she made, fearing lest in the end they themselves should be subjected to her severe rule. The general, who had favored her, was compelled to order her not to found any more convents. There was among the barefooted Carmelites a man of great reputation called F. Gratian, who was son to one who had been principal secretary of state to Charles V. and Philip II. As he had been very active in propagating the reform, the mitigated Carmelites proceeded so far as to pronounce a sentence of deposition against him.

St. Teresa felt most severely the persecutions which St. John of the Cross, F. Gratian, and others suffered; yet bore every thing with admirable patience and resignation, and wrote to the general with perfect submission and wonderful tranquillity and cheerfulness of mind. Bishop Yepez, who was at that time her spiritual director, was amazed at her constant joy, courage, meekness, and invincible greatness of soul under all manner of afflictions, and the most atrocious slanders with which even her chastity was attacked. In the mean time, she did all the good offices in her power to every one of them that persecuted her, always spoke well of them, and would never hear the least sinister construction put upon any of their actions. She felt only the sufferings of others, being entirely insensible to her own. When FF. Gratian, Marian, and the rest gave up all for lost, she assured them: “We shall suffer, but the order will stand.” The only answer she made to calumnies which were whispered against her, was: “If they thoroughly knew me, they would say much worse things of me.” She told her persecuted friends, that nothing seemed to her a surer mark of the divine mercy towards them, and that nothing is more advantageous or necessary than to suffer, that we may learn better to know both God and ourselves, and be assisted more perfectly to extirpate pride and the love of the world out of our hearts. “I return God a thousand thanks,” said she, writing to a friar of her order, “and you ought also to thank him on my account. What greater pleasure can we enjoy than to suffer for so good a God! The cross is the secure and beaten road to lead our souls to him. Let us then love and embrace it. Woe to our reform, and woe to every one of us, if crosses fail us.”66 After recommending her undertaking with many tears to God for the honor of his divine name, she wrote to the king, imploring his protection; and his majesty, upon the information of certain Dominican friars of great reputation, warmly espoused her cause, and that of her establishments; and an order was obtained at Rome to exempt the reformed from the jurisdiction of the mitigated Carmelites, so that each should have their own provincials. This expedient satisfied both parties, and put an end to these, troubles in 1577.

Though the wonderful success of this saint in her enterprises undertaken for the divine honor, was owing to the blessing of God, and to the divine light and assistance which she drew down upon her actions by the spirit of holy prayer, the great channel of grace, she was certainly a person endowed with great natural talents. The most amiable sweetness and meekness of her temper, the affectionate tenderness of her heart, and the liveliness of her wit and imagination, poised with an uncommon maturity of judgment, gained her always, in the first part of her life, the particular love and esteem of all her acquaintance. Bishop Yepez assures us, that her deportment in the latter part of her life was not less agreeable than it was edifying; and that the gravity, modesty, and discretion of her words and carriage had such a dignity and gracefulness, and such charms, that even her looks composed the hearts, and regulated the manners of those who conversed with her. He adds, that her prudence and address were admirable. Such was her love of simplicity, truth, and sincerity, that if she heard any nun repeat something they had heard with ever so trifling an alteration in a single word, she reprimanded them with extreme severity; and often said, that a person could never arrive at perfection who was not a scrupulous lover of candor and truth. This appeared in all her dealings, and she would have rather suffered the most important affairs to miscarry, than to have said any word in which there could be the least shadow or danger of a lie or equivocation.67 She used to say, that our Lord is a great lover of humility because he is the great lover of truth, and humility is a certain truth, by which we know how little we are, and that we have no good of ourselves. For true humility takes not from us the knowledge of God’s gifts which we have received, but it teaches us to acknowledge that we no way deserved them, and to admire and thank the divine goodness so much the more as we more perfectly see our own baseness and unworthiness, and the infidelities and ingratitude with which we repay the divine graces. The wonderful confidence in God, and constancy and firmness of soul which she showed under all difficulties and dangers, arose from her distrust in herself, and in all creatures, and her placing her whole strength in God alone. To have neglected the means of human industry and prudence, would have been to have tempted God, who will have us employ them, though we expect the whole issue from him who is pleased to make use of these, or perhaps other instruments if he rejects these; but St. Teresa had recourse to the succors of the world so as to place no part of her confidence in them, and she says of them: “I perceive clearly they are all no better than so many twigs of dried rosemary, and that there is no leaning upon them: for upon the least weight of contradiction resting upon them, they are presently broken. I have learned this by experience, that the true remedy against our falling is to lean on the cross, and to trust in him who was fastened to it.”68 As one unworthy of all heavenly consolation, she never durst ask any comfort of God, whether she suffered the most painful aridities, or abounded with spiritual favors, a conduct of which Dr. Avila and other experienced directors exceedingly approved, regarding it as a mark that her visions and raptures were not illusions. Humiliations and sufferings she looked upon as her due and her advantage “When I am in prayer,” said she,69 “I cannot, though I should endeavor it, ask of our Lord, nor desire rest, because I see that he lived altogether in labors; which I beseech him to give me likewise, bestowing on me first grace to sustain them.”

St. Teresa lived to see sixteen nunneries of her reformed order founded, and fourteen convents of Carmelite friars. One of these latter was founded by a famous lady, called Catharine de Cardona, who had led an eremitical life in a cave in a desert eight years, when she built this friary, near her hermitage in the diocese of Cunza. She was of the family of the dukes of Cardona, had been governess to Don Carlos and Don John of Austria, and was much caressed at court. In the world she had been much given to the practice of penitential severities; but the austerities with which she treated her body after she had retired into the desert seemed to exceed the ordinary strength of her sex. St. Teresa, who corresponded with her, very much commends her piety and virtue. This lady died in her cave in 1577, five years after she had built the friary, which she called Our Lady of Succor. St. Teresa was returning from founding a convent at Burgos to Avila, where she was prioress, when she was sent for by the duchess of Alva. She was at that time very ill of her usual distemper of a palsy and frequent violent vomitings. Yet when she arrived at Alva, on the 20th of September, she conversed with the duchess several hours; then went to her convent in the town, understanding that our Lord called her to himself. On the 30th of that month she was seized with a bloody flux, and after communicating at mass, took to her bed, and never rose out of it any more. The duchess visited her every day, and would needs serve her with her own hands. Sister Anne of St. Bartholomew, the saint’s individual companion never left her.* On the 1st of October, having passed almost the whole night in prayer, she made her confession to F. Antony of Jesus. He afterwards, in the presence of the nuns, entreated her to pray that God would not yet take her from them. She answered, she was no way needful to them, nor useful in the world. She gave every day many wholesome instructions to her nuns, with greater energy and tenderness than usual. She besought them, for the love of God, to observe their rules and constitutions with the utmost diligence, and not to consider the bad example such a sinner had given them, but to forgive her. The holy viaticum being brought into her chamber on the 3d of October, in the evening, she sprung up in her bed, though exceeding weak, and, among other fervent ejaculations, said: “O my Lord, and my spouse, the desired hour is now come. It is now time for me to depart hence. Thy will be done. The hour is at last come, wherein I shall pass out of this exile, and my soul shall enjoy in thy company what it hath so earnestly longed for.” At nine o’clock the same evening, she desired and received extreme unction. F. Antony asked her if she would not be buried in her own convent at Avila? To which she answered: “Have I any thing mine in this world? or will they not afford me here a little earth?” She recited often certain verses of the Miserere psalm, especially those words: A contrite and humble heart, O God, thou wilt not despise. This she repeated till her speech failed her. After this she remained fourteen hours, as it were, in a trance, holding a crucifix fast in her hand; and calmly expired at nine o’clock in the evening, on the 4th of October, 1582, the next day (by the reformation of the calendar† made that year by cutting off those ten days) being reckoned the 15th, the day which was afterwards appointed for her festival. She lived sixty-seven years, six months, and seven days, of which she passed forty-seven in a religious state, and the latter twenty in the observance of her reformed rule.70 Her body was honorably buried at Alva; but three years after, by a decree of the provincia chapter of the order, secretly taken up, and removed to Avila, in 1585 The duke of Alva resenting this translation, obtained an order at Rome that the relics should be restored to Alva, which was done in 1586, the body being always found entire, of the same color, and the joints flexible. There it remains incorrupt to this day. St. Teresa was canonized by Gregory XV., in 1621. The history of many miracles wrought by her relics and intercession, may be seen in Yepez71 and in the acts of her canonization.

St. Teresa having tasted so plentifully the sweetness of divine love, earnestly exhorts all others by penance and holy prayer to aspire to the same. She cries out:72 “O admirable benignity of thine, O my God, who permittest thyself to be looked upon by those eyes which have abused their sight so much as these of my soul have done! O great ingratitude of mortals! O ye souls which have true faith, what blessings can you seek which may any way be compared to the least of those which are obtained by the servants of God, even in their mortal life, besides the happy eternity hereafter! Consider it is most true that God, even here, gives himself to such as forsake all things else for the love of him. He is no excepter of persons: he loves all, nor hath any one an excuse, how wicked soever he hath been, since our Lord hath dealt with me so mercifully. Consider, also, that this which I am saying is not so much as a cipher of that which may be said. It is no way in my power to declare that which a soul finds in herself, when our Lord is pleased to impart to her these his secrets: a delight so highly superior to all that can possibly be imagined here, that with good reason it makes those who possess it abhor all the pleasures of the earth; which, all put together, are no more, comparatively, than mere dung and dirt; nay, it is loathsome to bring these into comparison at all with them, even though they might be enjoyed forever. Yet, of these celestial consolations, what kind of mean proportion is that which God is pleased to bestow in this world? No more than, as it were, one single drop of water of that great full-flowing river, which is prepared for us. It is a shame, and I apply it to myself, (and if it were possible for souls to be ashamed in heaven, I should be justly ashamed there more than any other, that we should desire such great blessings, and infinite glory, all at the cost of the good Jesus, and not weep at least over him with the daughters of Jerusalem. If we will not help him to carry the cross, O how can we ever think of coming to enjoy, by the way of pleasures and pastimes, that which he purchased for us, at the expense of so much blood! This can never be. We take quite a wrong course; we shall never arrive at our journey’s end by such an erroneous way. Your reverence must cry out aloud to make these truths be heard. O how rich will he find himself another day, who left all the riches he had for Christ! How full of honor, who rejected all worldly honor, and took pleasure in seeing himself much debased and despised for the love of him! How wise will he see himself, then, who rejoiced to see the world hold him for a fool, since they called wisdom itself by that name!” &c.

OCTOBER 15 — ST. TECLA, V. ABBESS

She was an Englishwoman, and a holy nun at Winburn in Dorsetshire, who being invited by St. Boniface into Germany, was made abbess of Kitzingen, three miles from Wurtzburg, about the same time that St. Lioba was appointed abbess at Bischofsheim, St. Walburge at Heidenheim in Bavaria, Kynetrade also in Bavaria, and Kynegild in Thuringia, that they might be mistresses of a spiritual life to the new converts of their sex, and train up young ladies to virtue; St. Boniface rightly judging, that the establishment of sanctuaries, which might be models and examples of true piety and schools for the religious education of youth, was a necessary means for supporting religion, and diffusing its holy spirit.

OCTOBER 15 — ST. HOSPICIUS, IN FRENCH HOSPIS, ANCHORET

While the wilful blindness, impiety, and abominations of a wicked world cry to heaven for vengeance, the servants of God, trembling under the apprehension of his judgments, endeavor to deprecate his just anger by torrents of tears with which they bewail their own spiritual miseries, and the evils in which the world is drowned. Thus Jeremiah wept over the infidelities of his people. St. Gildas and other British saints in the sixth century, were the Jeremies of their country. Salvian of Marseilles, by his elegant and pathetic lamentations, has deserved to be styled the Jeremy of his age. Many other religious persons, by redoubling the fervor of their prayers, the abundance of their tears, and the austerity of their penance have, in every age, strenuously endeavored to escape divine vengeance, and to avert the same from others. St. Hospicius was eminently endowed with this spirit of zeal and penance. The place of his birth is not known; but that of his retirement was a rock near Villefranche, about a league from Nice in Piedmont. Here he built a monastery, but lived himself in a little tower at some distance: from him the place is called St. Sospit. The holy hermit loaded himself with a heavy iron chain, and his garment was a rough hair shirt, made of large hair of camels. His food was a little coarse bread, and a few dates, with water; in Lent it consisted only of the roots of certain Egyptian herbs, which merchants brought him from Alexandria to Nice. He foretold distinctly the coming of the Lombards,* and exhorted the inhabitants to save themselves by flight. When a troop of those barbarians plundered his monastery and mountain, finding him chained in his voluntary dungeon, they took him for some notorious malefactor, and asked him of what crimes he was guilty? He answered them of many of the deepest dye; meaning his sins, which in a spirit of humility he had always before his eyes. At these words one of the Lombards, taking him for some murderer, lifted up his sword to dispatch him; but his arm became suddenly benumbed and motionless, till the saint restored it sound. This and other miracles converted the rage of the barbarians into veneration for his person. St. Gregory of Tours, who was contemporary with him, relates other predictions and miracles of this great saint; though the most wonderful of his miracles was the edifying example of his life, by which he preached to sinners a saving fear of the divine judgments still more powerfully than by his zealous exhortations. His happy death happened about the year 580, on the 15th of October, on which day his festival is celebrated at Nice; though, on account of a translation of his relics, the 21st of May is consecrated to his memory in the Roman Martyrology. See S. Greg. Turon. Hist. Franc.1. 6, c. 6, et de Glor. Confess. c. 97; Aimoinus,1. 3, c. 38; Paulus Diaconus,1. 3; Petrus Jofredus, in Nica Illustrata, Par. 1, t. 10; Grvius, in Thesauro Antiqu. Ital. t. 9, par. 6, p. 114; Otto Frisingensis, Constant. Porphyr., &c.

On this day the Roman Martyrology mentions St. Bruno, or Brun, whose life see on the 19th of June, under the name of Boniface.

OCTOBER 16 — SAINT GALL, ABBOT

From his life compiled by Walfridus Strabo, a monk, first of Fulde afterwards of St. Gall’s, who died abbot of the neighboring monastery of Richenow, in the diocese of Constance, founded by Charles Martel in 724. His name is famous for his books on the divine offices; he died about the year 849 Notker, monk of St. Gall’s, about the year 900,* compiled the life of St. Gall in verse. See on this saint Mabillon Acta Bened. t. 2, p. 230, and Annal. i. 11 and 13.

A. D. 646.

AMONG the great number of eminent disciples which St. Columban left imitators of his heroic virtues, none seems to have been more famous than St. Gall. He was born in Ireland soon after the middle of the sixth century, of parents who were conspicuous both for their piety and for their riches, and the rank which they held among the nobility. By them he was offered to God from his birth, and by their care was educated in the great monastery of Benchor, under the direction of the holy abbots St. Comgal and St. Columban. Studies, especially of sacred learning, flourished in this house, and St. Gall was well versed in grammar, poetry, and the holy scriptures. When St. Columban left Ireland. St. Gall was one of those twelve who accompanied him into England, and afterwards into France, where they arrived in 585. They were courteously received by Sigebert, the pious king of Austrasia and Burgundy, and St. Columban, assisted by the liberality of that prince, founded the monastery of Anegray, in a wild forest, in the diocese of Besanon, and two years afterwards that of Luxeu. St. Columban being driven thence by king Theodoric, whom he had reproved for his lust, St. Gall shared in his persecution, and both withdrew into the territories of Theodebert, who was then king of Austrasia, and reigned at Metz. Villemar, the holy priest of Arben, near the lake of Constance, afforded them a retreat. The servants of God built themselves cells in a desert near Bregentz, converted many idolaters who had a temple near that place, and, in the end of one of their sermons, broke their brazen statues and threw them into the lake. The pagans that remained obstinate, persecuted the monks, and slew two of them. Gunzo, governor of the country, also declared himself their enemy, and king Theodoric, by the death of Theodebert, whom he killed in battle, becoming master of Austrasia, St. Columban retired into Italy. St. Gall was unwilling to be separated from him, but was prevented from bearing him company by a grievous fit of illness. The cells which this saint built there for those who desired to serve God with him, he gave to the monastery called of St. Gall, the abbot of which is prince of the empire, and an ally of the Switzers. St. Gall was a priest before he left Ireland, and having learned the language of the country where he settled, near the lake of Constance, by his preaching, example, and miracles, he converted to the faith a great number of idolaters, so as to be justly regarded as the apostle of that territory.

A beautiful daughter of Gunzo, duke or governor of the country, being possessed by the devil, was delivered by the saint, and by his advice chose rather to consecrate her virginity to God in the monastery of St. Peter at Metz, than to marry a son of the king of Austrasia. The duke Gunzo, and a synod of bishops, with the clergy and people, earnestly desired to place the saint in the episcopal see of Constance; but his modesty and fears were not to be overcome. To avert this danger from himself, and satisfy the importunity of the people, he proposed to them his deacon and disciple John; who was accordingly elected. On the solemnity of his consecration St. Gall preached a sermon, which is published by Canisius,1 and in the Library of the Fathers.* In it a natural simplicity of style is set off by great penetration, strength, piety, and solid erudition. The author speaks of himself as one taken up in the apostolic labors of the ministry. He only left his cell to preach, and instruct chiefly the wildest and most abandoned among the inhabitants in the mountainous parts of the country: and returning continually to his hermitage, he there often spent whole nights and days in holy prayer and contemplation, in which he usually poured forth his soul before God with floods of tears. Upon the death of St. Eustasius, whom St. Columban had left abbot of Luxeu, the monks chose St. Gall in 625; but that house was then grown rich in lands and possessions: and the humble servant of God understood too well the advantages of the inestimable treasure of holy poverty in a penitential life, to suffer himself to be robbed of it. The charge of a numerous community also alarmed him; for he was aware how difficult a matter it is to maintain a true spirit of perfection in multitudes; and the lukewarmness of one monk would have been to him a subject of perpetual trembling, not only for that soul, but also for his own, and for the whole community, from the contagion of such an example.

Walfridus Strabo places the death of our saint soon after that of St. Eustasius. But Mabillon shows clearly,2 that he lived many years longer, and only died about the year 646, on the 16th of October, the day on which the church honors his memory. This abbey changed the rule of St. Columban for that of St. Bennet, in the eighth century, and was much increased by the liberality of Charles Martel, Louis Dbonnaire, and Louis the Big. The estates and civil jurisdiction of which this abbey was possessed, became so considerable, that Henry I. erected it into a principality of the empire; but its dominions, though very extensive and powerful before they were curtailed by the civil wars raised by the Calvinists, never properly comprised the town of St. Gall, which, by embracing the Calvinistical religion, deprived the abbot of what rights he before enjoyed in it. This abbey is one of the most famous in the world for the great number of learned men it has formerly produced, and for its library, which abounded with a great number of excellent and curious MSS. and printed books, though a great part of these were plundered and lost in the civil wars. It still contains very valuable MSS.3

He who desires to preach to others with fruit, must first preach to himself, treasuring up lessons of true piety in his own mind, imprinting deeply in his heart the sentiments of all virtues, and learning to practise first what he would afterwards teach others. Empty science fills with presumption vain-glory, and pride, and neither reforms the heart, nor teaches that language which infuses true virtue into others, which can only proceed from experimental virtue. The gift of true spiritual knowledge cannot be obtained but by sincere humility, and purity of heart, which is freed from vices and earthly affections, and by holy meditation, which alone can give a heavenly tincture and frame to the mind, as Cassian says.4 As our food is assimilated to our flesh by digestion; so spiritual affections pass, as it were, into the very substance of our souls by pious meditation, and the exercises of holy compunction, divine love, and all other interior virtues; which he will be able to teach others who is possessed of them himself.

OCTOBER 16 — ST. LULLUS, OR LULLON, ARCHBISHOP OF MENTZ, C

He was an Englishman, probably a native of the kingdom of the West-Saxons. The foundation of his education was laid in the monastery of Maldubi, probably the same which was afterwards called Malmesbury, in Wiltshire, founded a little before that time, in 675. From thence he went to Jarrow, and there finished his studies under venerable Bede. In 732 he passed into Germany, and was received with great joy by his cousin St. Boniface, who gave him the monastic habit, and soon after ordained him deacon, and employed him in preaching the gospel to idolaters. From this time Lullus shared with that great saint the labors of his apostleship, and the persecutions which were raised against him by idolaters, heretics, and schismatics.1 St. Boniface promoted him to priest’s orders in 751, and sent him to Rome to consult pope Zachary on certain difficulties which he did not care to commit to writing. Upon his return St. Boniface pitched upon him for his successor, and wrote to Fulrade, abbot of St. Denys, entreating him to procure the consent of king Pepin. This being obtained, with the approbation of the bishops, abbots, clergy, and nobility of the country, Lullus was consecrated archbishop of Mentz.2 About two years after, St. Boniface having suffered martyrdom, Lullus took care to have his body conveyed to the abbey of Fulde, and there interred with honor. During the space of thirty-four years that he governed the diocese of Mentz, he assisted at divers councils in France and at Rome.3

It appears by the letters which were addressed to him from Rome, France and England, to consult him upon the most difficult points of doctrine and of discipline, that he was in the greatest reputation for learning. His answers to these are lost, and only nine of his letters are published among those of St. Boniface.4 The style shows that he neglected the ornaments of language, according to the custom of that age; but the matter is interesting. In the fourth, we admire his zeal to procure good books from foreign countries, by which means they were dispersed in all parts of Germany and France. In his other letters, we meet with great examples of his humility, his firm attachment to his friends, his pastoral vigilance, and his zeal for the observance of the canons. The sixty-second letter is an episcopal mandate to order prayers, fasts, and masses, “those which are prescribed (in the missal) to be said against tempests, to obtain of God that the rains might cease which prejudiced the fruits of the earth.” St. Lullus announces in the same the death of the pope. (Paul I. or Stephen III.,) for whom he orders the accustomed prayers to be said. Cuthbert, abbot of Wiremouth, in a letter to St. Lullus, mentions that he had ordered ninety masses to be said for their deceased brethren in Germany. For they sent to each other the names of those that died among them; which also appears from several letters of St. Boniface, as from one to the abbot of Mount Cassin0,5 and several to his brethren in England. St. Lullus being imposed upon by false informations, took part against St. Sturmius, abbot of Fulde, when he was accused of treason against the king Pepin.* If holy and great men are sometimes surprised and betrayed into frailties, with what prudence and circumspection ought every one to proceed, lest he take some false step, and how ready ought he to be to confess his faults, and to efface them by salutary penance! St. Lullus made afterwards amends for his mistake, as appears by his charter of donation to the abbey of Fulde, which he signed in 785,6 in presence of the emperor Charlemagne.† St. Lullus resigned his dignity before his death, and shut himself up in the monastery of Harsfeld, which he had built. In that retreat he died happily on the 1st of November, not in 786, as some have pretended, but in 787. See Mabill. Act. Bened t. 4; Serarius, Rerum Mogunt. t. 1; Mirus, &c.

OCTOBER 16 — SAINT MUMMOLIN, OR MOMMOLIN, BISHOP OF NOYON, C

He was a native of the territory of Constance, and became a monk at Luxeu. He was sent with Ebertran and Bertin to St. Omer, and was appointed superior rather than abbot, while they lived about eight years in their first habitation called the Old Monastery, or St. Mummolin’s. He removed with them to the New Monastery of St. Peter’s, or Sithiu, now St. Bertin’s. Upon the death of St. Eligius, in 659, or 665, he was consecrated bishop of Noyon and Tournay, and constituted Ebertran abbot of the monastery of St. Quintin’s, which he erected in that town not far from the ruins of Vermandis. This abbey is long since secularized, and is a famous collegiate church. Folcard tells us in his life of St. Omer, that St. Mummolin governed that extensive see twenty-six years. His name occurs in the subscriptions to the Testament of St. Amand, and to several charters of that age. His body was interred in the church of the apostles, and is now richly enshrined in the cathedral of Noyon, but part of his skull at St. Bertin’s. He is honored in all these dioceses on the 16th of October. See Mabill. Ann. Ben. t. 1, p. 529; Gall. Chr. nov. t. 9, p. 984; Molanus ad 16 Octobris; his ancient MS. life in St. Bertin’s library, and De Witte, in Vit. Sanctor Sithiensium.

OCTOBER 17 — ST. HEDWIGES, OR AVOICE, DUCHESS OF POLAND, W

From her exact life extant in Surius, and D’Andilly, Saints Illustr. See also Chromer, Hist.1. 7, 8; Du loss, Hist. Polonic,1. 6 et 7 and F. Raderus, Bavaria Sancta, t. 1, p. 147.

A. D. 1243.

THE father of this saint was Bertold III. of Andechs, marquis of Meran, count of Tirol, and prince (or duke) of Carinthia and Istria,* as he is styled in the Chronicle of Andechs, and in the life of St. Elizabeth of Hungary.1 Her mother was Agnes, daughter of the count of Rotletchs. St. Hedwiges had three sisters and four brothers. Her eldest sister, Agnes, was married to Philip Augustus, king of France; Gertrude, the second, to Andrew, king of Hungary, by whom she had St. Elizabeth; the third was abbess of Lutzingen in Franconia. As to her brothers, Bertold died patriarch of Aquileia, and Elebert, bishop of Bamberg: Henry and Otho divided between them their father’s principalities, and became renowned generals. St. Hedwiges, by a distinguishing effect of the divine mercy in her favor, was from her cradle formed to virtue by the example and lessons of her devout mother, and of those that were placed about her. In her infancy she discovered no marks of levity, and all her inclinations were turned to piety and devotion. She was placed very young in the monastery of Lutzingen, in Franconia, and only taken thence, when twelve years old, to marry Henry, duke of Silesia, descended of the dukes of Glogau in that country; to which match she only consented out of compliance with the will of her parents. In this state, by the fidelity with which she acquitted herself of all her respective duties towards God, her husband, her children, and her family, she was truly the courageous woman described by the wise man,2 who is to be sought from the utmost boundaries of the earth: making it her study in all things only to please God, and to sanctify her own soul and her household, she directed all her views and actions to this great end. With her husband’s free consent she always passed holydays, fast-days, and all seasons of devotion in continence. She bore her husband three sons, Henry, Conrad, and Boleslas; and three daughters, Agnes, Sophia, and Gertrude. After the birth of her sixth child, she engaged her husband to agree to a mutual vow of perpetual continence, which they made in presence of the bishop of the place; from which time they never met but in public places. Her husband faithfully kept this vow for thirty years that he lived afterwards; during which time he never wore any gold, silver, or purple, and never shaved his beard; from which circumstance he was surnamed Henry the Bearded; and so he is constantly called by Dlugoss, Chromer, and other Polish and German historians.

The nobility of Greater Poland having expelled their duke Ladislas Otonis, conferred on Henry that principality in 1233. Hedwiges endeavored by all the means in her power to dissuade him from accepting that offer; but was not able to prevail. Henry marched thither with an army, and quietly took possession of that and some other provinces of Poland, and though Boleslas the Pious was duke of Cracow and Sendomir, both he and some other lesser princes of that country stood so much in awe of Henry’s superior power, as never to dare to have any contest with him. From that time he is styled duke of Poland. Out of partial fondness he was once desirous to leave his dominions to his second son, Conrad; but Hedwiges supported the cause of Henry, which was that of justice. The two brothers, with their factions, came to an open rupture, and notwithstanding their mother’s desire to reconcile them, a great battle was fought, in which Henry entirely routed his younger brother’s army, who died soon after in retirement and penance. This happened several years before the death of their father, and was one of those crosses by which the duchess learned more bitterly to deplore the miseries and blindness of the world, and more perfectly to disengage her heart from its slavery. Whether in prosperity or adversity, her whole comfort was in God, and in the exercises of religion. The duke, at her persuasion, and upon her yielding into his hands her whole dower for this purpose, founded the great monastery of Cistercian nuns at Trebnitz, three miles from Breslaw, the capital of Silesia; upon which he settled the town of Trebnitz and other estates, endowing it for the maintenance of one thousand persons, of which, in the first foundation, one hundred were nuns; the rest were young ladies of reduced families, who were to be here educated in piety, and afterwards provided with competent portions to marry advantageously in the world; or, if they were inclined to a monastic state, they were at liberty to profess it in this or in any other nunnery. This building was begun in 1203, and was carried on fifteen years without interruption, during which time all malefactors in Silesia, instead of other punishments, were condemned to work at it, and the severity of their servitude was proportioned to their crimes. The monastery was finished, and the church dedicated in 1219. The duchess practised in her palace greater austerities than those of the mosrigid monks, fasted and watched in prayer, and wherever she travelled had always thirteen poor persons with her, whom she maintained, in honor of Christ and his apostles, waiting upon them herself upon her knees at table, where they were served with good meat, before she took her own coarse refection. She often washed the feet and kissed the ulcers of lepers, and having an extreme desire to hear that amiable sentence from Christ at the last day: I was in prison, and you visited me, &c., she exhausted her revenues in relieving the necessitous. The simplicity which she observed in her dress while she lived with her husband, showed, that if respect to him and his court obliged her to wear decent apparel, she was yet an enemy to vain or gaudy ornaments, which amuse a great part of her sex, and much more to all decorations and artifices of dress, with which many ladies study to set themselves off to advantage: a certain mark of vanity, or a pleasure they take in themselves, and a dangerous desire of pleasing others. This passion, which banishes from the breast where it reigns the spirit of Christ, and his gospel, cherishes the root of many vices, and without design spreads snares to entangle and destroy unwary souls, cannot find place in one whose conduct is regulated by, and whose heart is penetrated with, the spirit of Christian modesty.

St. Hedwiges, after her separation from her husband, carried her love of humility and penance much further in this respect, and wore only clothes of plain gray stuff. Her desire of advancing in perfection put her upon leaving the palace with her husband’s consent, and fixing altogether at Trebnitz, near the monastery, often retiring for some days into that austere house, where she lay in the dormitory, and complied with all the penitential exercises of the community. She wore the same cloak and tunic summer and winter; and underneath a rough hair-shift, with sleeves of white serge, that it might not be discovered. She fasted every day, except Sundays and great festivals, on which she allowed herself two small refections. For forty years she never ate any flesh, though subject to frequent violent illnesses; except that once, under a grievous distemper in Poland, she took a little, in obedience to the precept of the pope’s legate. On Wednesdays and Fridays her refection was only bread and water. With going to churches barefoot, sometimes over ice and snow, her feet were often blistered, and left the ground stained with traces of her blood; but she earned shoes under her arms, to put on if she met any one. Her maids that attended her to church, though well clad, were not able to bear the cold, which she never seemed to feel. She had a good bed in her chamber, but never made use of it, taking her rest on the bare ground. She watched great part of the night in prayer and tears, and never returned to rest after matins. After compline she prolonged her prayers in the church till very late, and from matins till break of day. At her work, or other employments, she never ceased to sigh to God in her heart as a stranger banished from him on earth, and returned often in the day to the church, where she usually retired into a secret corner, that her tears might not be perceived. The princess Anne, her daughter-in-law, who usually knelt next to her, admired the abundance of tears she saw her frequently shed at her devotions, the interior joy and delights with which she was often overwhelmed during her communications with heaven, and the sublime raptures with which she was sometimes favored. The same was testified by Herbold, her confessor, and by several servant-maids. At her prayers she frequently kissed the ground, watering it with her tears, and in private often prayed a long time together prostrate on the floor. She continued in prayer during all the time it thundered, remembering the terrors of the last day. Her tears and devotion were extraordinary when she approached the holy communion. She always heard mass either kneeling, or prostrate, with a devotion which astonishes all that saw her; nor could she be satisfied without hearing every morning all the masses that were said in the church where she was.*

That devotion is false or imperfect which is not founded in humility and the subjection of the passions. St. Hedwiges always sincerely looked upon herself as the last and most ungrateful to God of all creatures, and she was often seen to kiss the ground where some virtuous person had knelt in the church. No provocation was observed to make her ever show the least sign of emotion or anger. While she lived in the world, the manner in which she reprimanded servants for faults, showed how perfectly she was mistress of herself, and how unalterable the peace of her mind was. This also appeared in the heroic constancy with which she bore afflictions. Upon receiving the news of her husband being wounded in battle, and taken prisoner by the duke of Kirne, she said, without the least disturbance of mind, that she hoped to see him in a short time at liberty and in good health. The conqueror rejected all terms that could be offered for his freedom; which obliged Henry, our saint’s eldest son, to raise a powerful army to attempt his father’s rescue by force of arms. Hedwiges, whose tender soul could never hear of the effusion of Christian blood without doing all in her power to prevent it, went in person to Conrad, and the very sight of her disarmed him of all his rage, so that she easily obtained what she demanded. The example of our saint had so powerful an influence over her husband, that he not only allowed her an entire liberty as to her manner of living, and exercises of piety, but began at length, in some degree, to copy her virtues, observed the modesty and recollection of a monk in the midst of a court, and became the father of his people, and the support of the poor and weak. All his thoughts were directed to administering justice to his subjects, and making piety and religion flourish in his dominions. He died happily, in 1238; upon which melancholy occasion all the nuns at Trebnitz expressed their sense of so great a loss by many tears and other marks of grief. Hedwiges was the only person who could think of the deceased prince with dry eyes, and comforting the rest, said: “Would you oppose the will of God? Our lives are his. We ought to find our comfort in whatever he is pleased to ordain, whether as to our own death, or as to that of our friends.” The serenity of mind, and composure of features, with which on that occasion she urged the unreasonableness of an ungoverned grief, and the duty of resignation to the divine will, showed, still more than her words, how great a proficient she was in the virtues which she recommended, and how perfectly the motives of faith triumphed in her soul over the sentiments of nature. From that time she put on the religious habit at Trebnitz, and lived in obedience to her daughter Gertrude, who, having made her religious profession in that house when it was first founded, had been before that time chosen abbess. Nevertheless, St. Hedwiges never made any monastic vows, that she might continue to succor the necessitous by her bountiful charities.

One instance will suffice to show with what humility and meekness she conversed with her religious sisters. Out of a spirit of sincere poverty and humility, she never wore any other than some old threadbare, castaway habit. One of the nuns happened once to say to her: “Why do you wear these tattered rags? They ought rather to be given to the poor.” The saint meekly answered: “If this habit gives any offence I am ready to correct my fault;” and she instantly laid it aside and got another, though she would not have a new one. Three years after the death of her husband she sustained a grievous trial in the loss of her eldest, most virtuous, and most beloved son Henry, surnamed the Pious, who had succeeded his father in the duchies both of Greater and Lesser Poland, and of Silesia. The Tartars with a numberless army poured out of Asia by the north, proposing nothing less to themselves than to swallow up all Europe. Having plundered all the country that lay in their way through Russia and Bulgaria, they arrived at Cracow in Poland. Finding that city abandoned by its inhabitants, who carried off their treasures, they burnt it to the ground, so that nothing was left standing except the church of St. Andrew without the walls. Continuing their march into Silesia, they laid siege to the citadel of Breslaw, which was protected by the prayers of St. Ceslas or Cieslas, prior of the Dominicans there, and the barbarians, terrified by a globe of fire which fell from the heavens upon their camp, retired towards Legnitz. Duke Henry assembled his forces at Legnitz, and every soldier having been at confession, he caused mass to be said, at which he and all his army received the holy communion.3 From this sacred action he courageously led his little army to fall upon the enemy, having with him Miceslas, duke of Oppolen in Higher Silesia, Boleslas, marquis of Moravia, and other princes. He gave wonderful proofs both of his courage and conduct in this memorable battle, and for some time drove the barbarians before him; but at last, his horse being killed under him, he was himself slain not far from Legnitz, in 1241. His corpse was carried to the princess Anne, his wife, and by her sent to Breslaw, to be interred in the convent of Franciseans which he had begun to found there, and which she finished after his death. The grandchildren of our saint were preserved from the swords of these infidels, being shut up in the impregnable castle of Legnitz. St. Hedwiges herself had retired with her nuns and her daughter-in-law, Anne, to the fortress of Chrosne. Upon the news of this disaster she comforted her daughter the abbess, and her daughter-in-law the princess, who seemed almost dead with grief. Without letting fall a single tear, or discovering the least trouble of mind, she said: “God hath disposed of my son as it hath pleased him. We ought to have no other will than his.” Then, lifting up her eyes to heaven, she prayed as follows: “I thank you, my God, for having given me such a son, who always loved and honored me, and never gave me the least occasion of displeasure. To see him alive was my great joy; yet I feel a still greater pleasure in seeing him, by such a death, deserve to be forever united to you in the kingdom of your glory. Oh, my God, with my whole heart, I commend to you his dear soul.” The example of this saint’s lively faith and hope most powerfully and sweetly dispelled the grief of those that were in affliction, and her whole conduct was the strongest exhortation to every virtue. This gave an irresistible force to the holy advice she sometimes gave others. Being a true and faithful lover of the cross, she was wont to exhort all with whom she conversed, to arm themselves against the prosperity of the world with still more diligence than against its adversities, the former being fraught with more snares and greater dangers. Nothing seemed to surpass the lessons on humility which she gave to her daughter-in-law, Anne, which were the dictates of her own feeling and experimental sentiments of that virtue. Her humility was honored by God with the gift of miracles. A nun of Trebnitz who was blind, recovered her sight by the blessing of the saint with the sign of the cross. The author of her life gives us an account of several other miraculous cures wrought by her, and of several predictions, especially of her own death. In her last sickness she insisted on receiving extreme unction before any others could be persuaded that she was in danger. The passion of Christ, which she had always made a principal part of her most tender devotion, was the chief entertainment by which she prepared herself for her last passage. God was pleased to put a happy end to her labors by calling her to himself on the 15th of October, 1243. Her mortal remains were deposited at Trebnitz. She was canonized in 1266 by Clement IV., and her relics were enshrined the year following.4 Pope Innocent XI. appointed the 17th of this month for the celebration of her office.*

The constancy of this saint at the loss of friends proceeded not from insensibility. The bowels of saints are so much the more tender as their charity is always more compassionate and more extensive. But a lively apprehension of eternity, and of the nothingness of temporal things, makes them regard this life as a moment, and set no value on any thing in it but inasmuch as God, his love or holy will, and our immortal glory, may be concerned in it. Lewis of Granada tells us, in the life of the venerable servant of God, John of Avila, that the marchioness of Pliego, when she saw her eldest son delight in nothing but in retirement and devotion, used to say, that no other pleasure in this world can equal that of a mother who sees a dear child very virtuous. The same author mentions another lady of quality, likewise a spiritual daughter of that holy man, who, when she lost her most pious and beloved son, said she was not able to express her joy for having sent so dear a saint before her to heaven. If our grief on such occasions is ungoverned, we have reason to fear that our faith is weak, which makes such slender impressions on our souls.

OCTOBER 17 — ST. ANSTRUDIS, COMMONLY CALLED AUSTRU, V., ABBESS AT LAON

She was daughter of the virtuous and noble couple, Blandin-Boson and St. Salaberna, who founded the abbey of St. John Baptist at Laon, in which St. Salaberna, with the consent of her husband, took the religious veil, was chosen abbess, and is honored among the saints on the 22d of September. Anstrudis faithfully walked in her steps, and after her death, though with the utmost repugnance, succeeded her in the abbacy. By a scrupulous observance of monastic discipline in the least points, a tender and affectionate care in conducting her sisters in the paths of Christian perfection, a most profuse charity to the poor, and her constant application to prayer, she was a true model of sanctity. No exterior employments interrupted the union of her heart with God, or her sweet attention to his holy presence. Except on Sundays and on Christmas day she never took any nourishment but at one moderate refection she made in a day at three o’clock in the afternoon, and on fast-days after sunset. Her watchings in devout prayer often kept her the whole night in the church, except that she took a little rest in an uneasy seat before the church door; then returned again to her devotions before the altar. Her sanctity was to be approved and made perfect by the trial of afflictions, in which true virtue is always purified and improved, but that which is weak or counterfeit betrays itself, as a building which wants a firm foundation, or a great tree which has not shot its roots deep into the earth is easily blown down by storms. The saint’s pious brother Baldwin was treacherously assassinated, and she herself terrified with outrageous threats by Ebroin. That tyrant, however, was at length softened by her intrepid constancy, and approved virtue and innocence, and of a persecutor became her patron and friend. Pepin, when mayor of the palace, declared himself her strenuous protector. She died in 688, and is honored in the Gallican and Benedictin Calendars. The rich Benedictin nunnery of St. John Baptist at Laon was given to monks of the same order in 1229, and still flourishes. There is in the same town another great Benedictin abbey of St. Vincent, and a third of the order of Premontr, called St. Martin’s. See the life of St. Anstrudis written soon after her death in Mabillon (sc. 2. and Bulteau, Hist. Mon. d’Occid.

OCTOBER 17 — ST. ANDREW OF CRETE, M

St. Andrew, surnamed the Calybite, or the Cretan, was a holy monk, and a zealous defender of holy images in the reign of Constantine Copronymus, by whose orders he was whipped to death without the walls of Constantinople, in the circus of St. Mamas, on the 17th of October, 761. His name occurs in the Roman Martyrology. See Theophanes, p. 363; Fleury,1. 43, n. 31; Baillet, &c.

OCTOBER 18 — ST. LUKE THE EVANGELIST

See Tillem. t. 2, p. 148; Calmet, t. 7, p. 378. Six different Greek histories of St. Luke’s Acts as extant all modern, and of no account. See Jos. Assemani, in Calend. Univ. t. 5, p. 308.

THE great apostle of the Gentiles, or rather the Holy Ghost by his pen, is the panegyrist of this glorious evangelist, and his own inspired writings are the highest, standing, and most authentic commendation of his sanctity, and of those eminent graces which are a just subject of our admiration, but which human praises can only extenuate. St. Luke was a native of Antioch, the metropolis of Syria, a city famous for the agreeableness of its situation, the riches of its traffic, its extent, the number of its inhabitants, the politeness of their manners, and their learning and wisdom. Its schools were the most renowned in all Asia, and produced the ablest masters in all arts and sciences. St. Luke acquired a stock of learning in his younger years, which, we are told, he improved by his travels in some parts of Greece and Egypt. He became particularly well skilled in physic, which he made his profession. They that from hence infer the quality of his birth and fortune, do not take notice that this art was at that time often managed by slaves who were trained up to it, as Grotius proves, who conceives that St. Luke perhaps had lived servant in some noble family in quality of physician, till he obtained his freedom: after which he continued to follow his profession. This he seems to have done after his conversion to the faith, and even to the end of his life; the occasional practice of physic, without being drawn aside by it from spiritual functions, being a charity very consistent with the ministry of the gospel. St. Jerom assures us he was very eminent in his profession, and St. Paul, by calling him his most dear physician,1 seems to indicate that he had not laid it aside. Besides his abilities in physic, he is said to have been very skilful in painting. The Menology of the emperor Basil, compiled in 980, Nicephorus,2 Metaphrastes, and other modern Greeks quoted by F. Gretzer, in his dissertation on this subject, speak much of his excelling in this art, and of his leaving many pictures of Christ and the B. Virgin. Though neither the antiquity nor the credit of these authors is of great weight, it must be acknowledged, with a very judicious critic, that some curious anecdotes are found in their writings. In this particular, what they tell us is supported by the authority of Theodorus Lector, who lived in 518, and relates3 that a picture of the B. Virgin painted by St. Luke was sent from Jerusalem to the empress Pulcheria, who placed it in the church of Hodegorum which she built in her honor at Constantinople. Moreover, a very ancient inscription was found in a vault near the church of St. Mary in vi lat in Rome, in which it is said of a picture of the B. Virgin Mary, discovered there, “One of the seven painted by St. Luke.”* Three or four such pictures are still in being; the principal is that placed by Paul V. in the Burghesian chapel in St. Mary Major.

St. Luke was a proselyte to the Christian religion, but whether from paganism or rather from Judaism is uncertain; for many Jews were settled at Antioch, but chiefly such as were called Hellenists, who read the Bible in the Greek translation of the Septuagint. St. Jerom observes from his writings, that he was more skilled in Greek than in Hebrew, and that therefore he not only always makes use of the Septuagint translation, as the other authors of the New Testament who wrote in Greek do, but he refrains sometimes from translating words when the propriety of the Greek tongue would not bear it. Some think he was converted to the faith by St. Paul at Antioch: others judge this improbable, because that apostle nowhere calls him his son, as he frequently does his converts. St. Epiphanius makes him to have been a disciple of our Lord; which might be for some short time before the death of Christ, though this evangelist says he wrote his gospel from the relations of those who from the beginning were eye-witnesses and ministers of the word.4 Nevertheless, from these words, many conclude that he became a Christian at Antioch only after Christ’s ascension. Tertullian positively affirms that he never was a disciple of Christ while he lived on earth.5 No sooner was he enlightened by the Holy Ghost, and initiated in the school of Christ, but he set himself heartily to learn the spirit of his faith, and to practise its lessons. For this purpose he studied perfectly to die to himself, and, as the church says of him, “He always carried about in his body the mortification of the cross for the honor of the divine name.” He was already a great proficient in the habits of a perfect mastery of himself, and of all virtues, when he became St. Paul’s companion in his travels, and fellow-laborer in the ministry of the gospel. The first time that in his history of the missions of St. Pau16 he speaks in his own name in the first person, is when that apostle sailed from Troas into Macedon, in the year 51, soon after St. Barnabas had left him, and St. Irenus begins from that time the voyages which St. Luke made with St. Pau1.7 Before this he had doubtless been for some time an assiduous disciple of that great apostle; but from this time he seems never to have left him unless by his order, upon commissions for the service of the churches he had planted. It was the height of his ambition to share with that great apostle all his toils, fatigues, dangers, and sufferings. In his company he made some stay at Philippi in Macedon; then he travelled with him through all the cities of Greece, where the harvest every day grew upon their hands. St. Paul mentions him more than once as the companion of his travels; he calls him Luke the beloved physician,8 his fellow-laborer.9 Interpreters usually take Lucius, whom St. Paul calls his kinsman,10 to be St. Luke, as the same apostle sometimes gives a Latin termination to Silas, calling him Sylvanus. Many with Origen, Eusebius, and St. Jerom say, that when St. Paul speaks of his own gospe1,11 he means that of St. Luke, though the passage may be understood simply of the gospel which St. Paul preached. He wrote this epistle in the year 57, four years before his first arrival at Rome.

St. Matthew and St. Mark had written their gospels before St. Luke. The devil, who always endeavors to obscure the truth by falsehood, stirred up several to obtrude upon the world fabulous relations concerning Christ, to obviate which St. Luke published his gospel. In this undertaking some imagine he had also in view to supply some things which had been omitted by the two former; but it does not clearly appear that he had read them, as Calmet and others observe. Tertullian tells us, that this work of the disciple was often ascribed to St. Paul, who was his master.12 That apostle, doubtless, assisted him in the task, and approved and recommended it; but St. Luke mentions others from whom he derived his accounts, who from the beginning had been eye-witnesses of Christ’s actions. He delivered nothing but what he received immediately from persons present at, and concerned in the things which he has left upon record, having a most authentic stock of credit and intelligence to proceed upon, as Tertullian speaks, and being under the direction and influence of the Holy Ghost, from whose express revelation he received whatever he has delivered concerning all divine mysteries, and without whose special assistance and inspiration he wrote not the least tittle, even in his historical narrative. What the ancients aver of the concurrence of St. Paul in this work, seems to appear in the conformity of their expressions in mentioning the institution of the blessed eucharist,13 also in relating the apparition of Christ to St. Peter.14 St. Jerom and St. Gregory Nazianzen tell us,15 that St. Luke wrote his gospel in Achaia, when he attended St. Paul preaching there and in the confines of Bœotia. He was twice in these parts with that apostle, in 53 and 58. He must have written his gospel in 53, if St. Paul speaks of it in his epistle to the Romans, as the ancients assure us. Those titles in some Greek manuscripts, which say this gospel was written at Rome during St. Paul’s first imprisonment, are modern, and seem to confound this book with the Acts of the Apostles.

St. Luke mainly insists in his gospel upon what relates to Christ’s priestly office; for which reason the ancients, in accommodating the four symbolical representations, mentioned in Ezekiel, to the four evangelists, assigned the ox or calf, as an emblem of sacrifices, to St. Luke. It is only in the gospel of St. Luke that we have a full account of several particulars relating to the Annunciation of the mystery of the Incarnation to the Blessed Virgin, her visit to St. Elizabeth, the parable of the prodigal son, and many other most remarkable points. The whole is written with great variety, elegance, and perspicuity. An incomparable sublimity of thought and diction is accompanied with that genuine simplicity which is the characteristic of the sacred penmen; and by which the divine actions and doctrine of our Blessed Redeemer are set off in a manner which in every word conveys his holy spirit, and unfolds in every tittle the hidden mysteries and inexhausted riches of the divine love, and of all virtues to those who with an humble and teachable disposition of mind make these sacred oracles the subject of their assiduous devout meditation. The dignity with which the most sublime mysteries, which transcend all the power of words, and even the conception and comprehension of all created beings, are set off without any pomp of expression, has in it something divine; and the energy with which the patience, meekness, charity, and beneficence of a God made man for us, are described, his divine lessons laid down, and the narrative of his life given, but especially the dispassionate manner in which his adorable sufferings and death are related, without the least exclamation or bestowing the least harsh epithet on his enemies, is a grander and more noble eloquence on such a theme, and a more affecting and tender manner of writing, than the highest strains or the finest ornaments of speech could be. This simplicity makes the great actions speak themselves, which all borrowed eloquence must extenuate. The sacred penmen in these writings were only the instruments or organs of the Holy Ghost; but their style alone suffices to evince how perfectly free their souls were from the reign or influence of human passions, and in how perfect a degree they were replenished with all those divine virtues and that heavenly spirit which their words breathe.

About the year 56 St. Paul sent St. Luke with St. Titus to Corinth, with this high commendation, that his praise in the gospel resounded throughout all the churches.16 St. Luke attended him to Rome, whither he was sent prisoner from Jerusalem in 61. The apostle remained there two years in chains; but was permitted to live in a house which he hired, though under the custody of a constant guard; and there he preached to those who daily resorted to hear him. From ancient writings and monuments belonging to the church of St. Mary in vi lat, which is an ancient title of a cardinal deacon, Baronius17 and Aringhi18 tell us, that this church was built upon the spot where St. Paul then lodged, and where St. Luke wrote the Acts of the Apostles. On this account Sixtus V. caused a statue of St. Paul to be placed, with a new inscription, upon the famous pillar of Antoninus, in that neighborhood. St. Luke was the apostle’s faithful assistant and attendant during his confinement, and had the comfort to see him set at liberty in 63, the year in which this evangelist finished his Acts of the Apostles. This sacred history he compiled at Rome,19 by divine inspiration, as an appendix to his gospel, to prevent the false relations of those transactions which some published, and to leave an authentic account of the wonderful works of God in planting his church, and some of the miracles by which he confirmed it, and which were an invincible proof of the truth of Christ’s resurrection, and of his holy religion. Having in the first twelve chapters related the chief general transactions of the principal apostles in the first establishment of the church, beginning at our Lord’s ascension, he from the thirteenth chapter, almost confines himself to the actions and miracles of St. Paul, to most of which he had been privy and an eye-witness, and concerning which false reports were spread. St. Luke dedicated both this book and his gospel to one Theophilus, who, by the title of Most Excellent, which he gives him, according to the style of those times, must have been a person of the first distinction, and a public magistrate, probably of Antioch, who perhaps was a convert of this evangelist. These books were not in tended only for his use, but also for the instruction of all churches, and all succeeding ages. As among the ancient prophets the style of Isaias was most elegant and polite, and that of Amos, who had been a shepherd, rough; so that of St. Luke, by its accuracy and elegance, and the purity of the Greek language, shows the politeness of his education at Antioch: yet it is not wholly free from Hebraisms and Syriacisms. It flows with an easy and natural grace and sweetness, and is admirably accommodated to an historical design.

St. Luke did not forsake his master after he was released from his confinement. That apostle, in his last imprisonment at Rome writes, that the rest had all left him, and that St. Luke alone was with him.20 St. Epiphanius says,21 that after the martyrdom of St. Paul, St. Luke preached in Italy Gaul, Dalmatia, and Macedon. By Gaul some understand Cisalpine Gaul others Galatia. Fortunatus and Metaphrastes say he passed into Egypt and preached in Thebais. Nicephorus says he died at Thebes in Bœotia and that his tomb was shown near that place in his time; but seems to confound the evangelist with St. Luke Stiriote, a hermit of that country. St. Hippolytus says,22 St. Luke was crucified at Ela in Peloponnesus, near Achaia. The modern Greeks tell us he was crucified on an olive-tree. The ancient African Martyrology of the fifth age23 gives him the titles of Evangelist and Martyr. St. Gregory Nazianzen,24 St. Paulinus,25 and St. Gaudentius of Brescia,26 assure us that he went to God by martyrdom. Bede, Ado, Usuard, and Baronius in the Martyrologies only say he suffered much for the faith, and died very old in Bithynia. That he crossed the straits to preach in Bithynia is most probable, but then he returned and finished his course in Achaia; under which name Peloponnesus was then comprised. The modern Greeks say he lived fourscore and four years: which assertion had crept into St. Jerom’s account of St. Luke,27 but is expunged by Martianay, who found those words wanting in all old manuscripts. The bones of St. Luke were translated from Patras in Achaia in 357, by order of the emperor Constantius, and deposited in the church of the apostles at Constantinople,28 together with those of St. Andrew and St. Timothy. On the occasion of this translation some distribution was made of the relics of St. Luke: St. Gaudentius procured a part for his church at Brescia.29 St. Paulinus possessed a portion in St. Felix’s church at Nola, and with a part enriched a church which he built at Fondi.30 The magnificent church of the apostles at Constantinople was built by Constantine the Great,31 whose body was deposited in the porch in a chest of gold, the twelve apostles standing round his tomb.32 When this church was repaired by an order of Justinian, the masons found three wooden chests, or coffins, in which, as the inscriptions proved, the bodies of St. Luke, St. Andrew, and St. Timothy were interred.33 Baronius mentions that the head of St. Luke was brought by St. Gregory from Constantinople to Rome, and laid in the church of his monastery of St. Andrew.34 The ancient picture of St. Luke, together with all the instruments used formerly in writing, is copied by Montfaucon from old manuscript books of his gospe1.35 Some of his relics are kept in the great Grecian Monastery on Mount Athos it Greece.36

Christ, our divine Legislator, came not only to be our Model by his example, and our Redeemer by the sacrifice of his adorable blood, but also to be our doctor and teacher by his heavenly doctrine. He who, from the beginning of the world, had inspired and opened the mouths of so many prophets, vouchsafed to become himself our instructor, teaching us what we are to believe, and what we are to do, that through his redemption we may escape eternal torments and attain to everlasting life. With what earnestness and diligence, with what awful respect ought we to listen to, and assiduously meditate upon his divine lessons, which we read in his gospels, or hear from the mouths of his ministers, who announce to us his word, and in his name, or by his authority and commission! As by often iterating the same action the nail is driven into the wood, and not a stroke of the hammer is lost or superfluous; so it is by repeated meditation that the divine word sinks deep into our hearts. What fatigues and sufferings did it cost the Son of God to announce it to us! How many prophets! how many apostles, evangelists, and holy ministers has he sent to preach the same for the sake of our souls! How intolerable is our contempt of it! our sloth and carelessness in receiving it!

OCTOBER 18 — ST. JULIAN SABAS, HERMIT

St. Julian, for his wisdom and prudence, was surnamed Sabas, which signifies in Syriac, the Gray or Old Man. He flourished in the fourth age living first in a damp cave near Edessa, afterwards on Mount Sinai in Arabia Austere penance, manual labor, and assiduous prayer and contemplation were the means by which he sanctified his soul. He saw in spirit the death of Julian the Apostate in Persia, by which God delivered his church from the storm with which that persecutor then threatened it.1 The Arians under Valens abusing the authority of this saint’s name, he left his solitude, and coming to Antioch loudly confounded them, and wrought many miracles. When he had given an ample testimony to the true faith, he returned to his cell, where he instructed a great number of disciples, who edified the church long after his death. St. Chrysostom calls him a wonderful man, and describes the great honor with which he was received living, and his name venerated after his death.2 See Theodoret, Hist. Relig. c. 2; Bulteau, Hist. Mon. d’Orient, t. 2; Fleury,1. 16, n. 28, &c. This saint is named in the Roman Martyrology on the 14th of January, but by the Greeks both on this day and on the 24th of this month.

OCTOBER 18 — ST. JUSTIN, MARTYR, IN PARISIS

Rictius Varus, prefect of the Belgic Gaul, in the first years of Maximian, was a cruel persecutor of the faith while that emperor resided in Gaul, and for some time in Belgium itself. By this prefect’s orders many received the crown of martyrdom at Triers. Also at Amiens, St. Firminus, the bishop; likewise SS. Victoricus, Fuscianus, and Gentianus; St. Quintin at Vermande; SS. Crispin and Crispinian at Soissons; St. Piat, or Piaton, at Tournay; and St. Justin, or St. Justus, at Louvres, a small town in Parisis four leagues from Paris, towards Senlis. He was going to Amiens, and beheaded because he would not betray to the persecutors his father and brother who travelled with him, and who had concealed themselves. His relics, kept in the cathedral at Paris, appear to have been the body of a youth. See his Acts, ascribed to Bede, Tillem. t. 4, p. 751; Fleury,1. 18, n. 19, t. 2, p. 399.

OCTOBER 18 — ST. MONON, M

He left Scotland, his native country, and retired into the forest of Ardennes, where he led a holy life in the seventh century. He was massacred in his cell by robbers, and was buried in the village of Nassaw, which at present belongs to the abbey of St. Hubert. His tomb was rendered famous by miracles. There was a church dedicated under his invocation near the city of St. Andrew’s in Scotland, called to this day Monon’s Kirk. See Molanus, addit. ad Usuard, and King, in Calend.

OCTOBER 19 — ST. PETER OF ALCANTARA, C

From his life, written by F. John of St. Mary, in 1619, and again by F. Martin of St. Joseph, in 1644; also from the edifying account St. Teresa has left us of him in her own life, c. 27; F. Wadding’s Annals of the Franciscan Order, and Heiyot, Hist. des Ord. Relig. t. 7, p. 137.

A. D. 1562.

CHRIST declares the spirit and constant practice of penance to be the foundation of a Christian or spiritual life. This great and most important maxim, which in these latter ages is little understood, even amongst the generality of those who call themselves Christians, is set forth by the example of this saint to confound our sloth, and silence all our vain excuses. St. Peter was born at Alcantara, a small town in the province of Estramadura in Spain, in 1499. His father, Alphonso Garavito, was a lawyer, and governor of that town; his mother was of good extraction, and both were persons eminent for their piety and personal merit in the world. Upon the first dawn of reason, Peter discovered the most happy dispositions to virtue, and seemed a miracle of his age in fervor and unwearied constancy in the great duty of prayer from his childhood, and his very infancy. He had not finished his philosophy in his own country, when his father died. Some time after this loss he was sent to Salamanca to study the canon raw. During the two years that he spent in that university, he divided his whole time between the church, the hospital, the school, and his closet. In 1513 he was recalled to Alcantara, where he deliberated with himself about the choice of a state of life. On one side, the devil represented to him the fortune and career which were open to him in the world; on the other side, listening to the suggestions of divine grace, he considered the dangers of such a course, and the happiness and spiritual advantages of holy retirement. These sunk deep into his heart, and he felt in his soul a strong call to a religious state of life, in which he should have no other concern but that of securing his own salvation. Resolving, therefore, to embrace the holy order of St. Francis, in the sixteenth year of his age he took the habit of that austere rule in the solitary convent of Manjarez, situated in the mountains which run between Castile and Portugal. An ardent spirit of penance determined his choice of this rigorous institute in imitation of the Baptist, and he was so much the more solicitous after his engagement to cultivate and improve the same with particular care, as he was sensible that the characteristical virtues of each state ought to form the peculiar spirit of their sanctity who serve God in it.

During his novitiate he labored to subdue his domestic enemy by the greatest humiliations, most rigorous fasts, incredible watchings, and other severities. Such was his fervor that the most painful austerities had nothing frightful or difficult for him; his disengagement from the world from the very moment he renounced it was so entire, that he seemed in his heart to be not only dead or insensible, but even crucified to it, and to find all that a pain which flatters the senses and the vanity of men in it; and the union of his soul with his Creator seemed to suffer no interruption from any external employments. He had first the care of the vestry, (which employment was most agreeable to his devotion,) then of the gate, and afterwards of the cellar: all which offices he discharged with uncommon exactness, and without prejudice to his recollection. That his eyes and other senses might be more easily kept under the government of reason, and that they might not, by superfluous curiosity, break in upon the interior recollection of his mind, such was the restraint he put upon them, that he had been a considerable time a religious man without ever knowing that the church of his convent was vaulted. After having had the care of serving the refectory for half a year, he was chid by the superior for having never given the friars any of the fruit in his custody; to which the servant of God humbly answered, he had never seen any. The truth was, he had never lifted up his eyes to the ceiling, where the fruit was hanging upon twigs, as is usual in countries where grapes are dried and preserved. He lived four years in a convent, without taking notice of a tree that grew near the door. He ate constantly for three years in the same refectory, without seeing any other part of it than a part of the table where he sat, and the ground on which he trod. He told St. Teresa that he once lived in a house three years without knowing any of his religious brethren but by their voices. From the time that he put on the religious habit to his death, he never looked any woman in the face. These were the marks of a true religious man, who studied perfectly to die to himself. His food was for many years only bread moistened in water, or unsavory herbs, of which, when he lived a hermit, he boiled a considerable quantity together, that he might spend the less time in serving his body, and ate them cold, taking a little at once for his refection, which for a considerable time he made only once in three days. Besides these unsavory herbs, he sometimes allowed himself a porridge made with salt and vinegar; but this only on great feasts. For some time his ordinary mess was a soup made of beans; his drink was a small quantity of water. He seemed, by long habits of mortification, to have almost lost the sense of taste in what he ate; for when a little vinegar and salt was thrown into a porringer of warm water, he took it for his usual soup of beans. He had no other bed than a rough skin laid on the floor, on which he knelt great part of the night eaning sometimes on his heels for a little rest; but he slept sitting, leaning his head against a wall. His watchings were the most difficult and the most incredible of all the austerities which he practised; to which he inured himself gradually, that they might not be prejudicial to his health; and which being of a robust constitution of body, he found himself able to bear. He was assailed by violent temptations, and cruel spiritual enemies; but, by the succor of divine grace, and the arms of humility and prayer, was always victorious.

A few months after his profession, Peter was sent from Manjarez to a remote retired convent near Belviso; where he built himself a cell with mud and the branches of trees, at some distance from the rest, in which he practised extraordinary mortifications without being seen. About three years after, he was sent by his provincial to Badajos, the metropolis of Estramadura, to be superior of a small friary lately established there, though he was at that time but twenty years old. The three years of his guardianship or wardenship appeared to him a grievous slavery. When they were elapsed he received his provincial’s command to prepare himself for holy orders Though he earnestly begged for a longer delay, he was obliged to acquiesce and was promoted to the priesthood in 1524, and soon after employed in preaching. The ensuing year he was made guardian of Placentia. In all stations of superiority he considered himself as a servant to his whole community, and looked upon his post only as a strict obligation of encouraging the rest in the practice of penance by his own example. Our saint, who had never known the yoke of the world or vicious habits, entered upon his penitential course in a state of innocence and purity which seemed never to have been stained with the guilt of mortal sin. But by the maxims of the gospel, and the spirit of God, which directs all the saints, a deep sense was impressed upon his soul of the obligation which every Christian lies under of making his whole life a martyrdom of penance, to satisfy the divine justice both for past and daily infidelities, to prevent the rebellion of the senses and passions, and to overcome the opposition which the flesh and self-will raise against the spirit, unless they are entirely subdued, and made obedient to it. Neither can God perfectly reign in a heart, so long as the least spark of inordinate desires is habitually cherished in it. Every one, therefore, owes to God a sacrifice of exterior mortification and interior self-denial of his will, with a constant spirit of compunction, and a rigorous impartial self-examination or inspection into the dark recesses of his heart, in order to discover and extirpate the roots of all rising vicious inclinations. St. Peter, by his own example, inspired his religious brethren with fervor in all the branches of holy penance: while, by purifying the affections of his heart, he prepared his soul for the most sublime graces of divine love and heavenly contemplation. When the term of his second guardianship was expired, he was employed six years in preaching. Penetrated with the most profound sentiments of humility, compunction, and sovereign contempt of all earthly things, and burning with the most ardent charity, he appeared in the pulpits like a seraph sent by God to rouse sinners to a true spirit of penance, and to kindle in their most frozen breasts the fire of divine love. Hence incredible was the fruit which his sermons produced. Besides his natural talents and stock of learning, he was enriched by God with an experimental and infused sublime knowledge and sense of spiritual things, and of the sacred paths of virtue, which is never acquired by study, but is the fruit only of divine grace, an eminent spirit of prayer, rooted habits, and the heroic practice of all virtues. The saint’s very countenance or presence alone seemed a powerful sermon, and it was said that he had but to show himself to work conversions, and excite his audience to sighs and tears.

The love of retirement being always St. Peter’s predominant inclination, he made it his earnest petition to his superiors that he might be placed in some remote solitary convent, where he might give himself up to the sweet commerce of divine contemplation. In compliance with his request he was sent to the convent of St. Onuphrius, at Lapa, near Soriana, situated in frightful solitude; but, at the same time, he was commanded to take upon him the charge of guardian or warden of that house. In that retirement, he composed his golden book On Mental Prayer, at the request of a pious gentleman, who had often heard him speak on that subject. This excellent little treatise was justly esteemed a finished masterpiece on this important subject by St. Teresa, Lewis of Granada, St. Francis of Sales, pope Gregory XV., queen Christina of Sweden, and others. In it the great advantages and necessity of mental prayer are briefly set forth: all its parts and its method are explained, and exemplified in affections of divine love, praise, and thanksgiving, and especially of supplication or petition. Short meditations on the last things, and on the passion of Christ, are added as models. Upon the plan of this book, Lewis of Granada and many others have endeavored to render the use of mental prayer easy and familiar among Christians, in an age which owes all its spiritual evils to a supine neglect of this necessary means of interior true virtue. Our saint has left us another short treatise, On the Peace of the Soul, or On an Interior Life, no less excellent than the former.* St. Peter was himself an excellent proficient in the school of divine love, and in the exercises of heavenly contemplation. His prayer and his union with God was habitual. He said mass with a devotion that astonished others, and often with torrents of tears, or with raptures. He was seen to remain in prayer a whole hour, with his arms stretched out, and his eyes lifted up without moving. His ecstasies in prayer were frequent, and sometimes of long continuance. So great was his devotion to the mystery of the incarnation, and the holy sacrament of the altar, that the very mention or thought of them frequently sufficed to throw him in a rapture. The excess of heavenly sweetness, and the great revelations which he received in the frequent extraordinary unions of his soul with God are not to be expressed. In the jubilation of his soul through the impetuosity of the divine love he sometimes was not able to contain himself from singing the divine praises aloud in a wonderful manner. To do this more freely, he sometimes went into the woods, where the peasants who heard him sing, took him for one who was beside himself.

The reputation of St. Peter having reached the ears of John III., king of Portugal, that prince was desirous to consult him upon certain difficulties of conscience, and St. Peter received an order from his provincial to repair to him at Lisbon. He did not make use of the carriages which the king had ordered to be ready for him, but made the journey barefoot, without sandals, according to his custom. King John was so well satisfied with his answers and advice, and so much edified by his saintly comportment, that he engaged him to return again soon after. In these two visits the saint converted several great lords of the court; the infanta Maria, the king’s sister, trampling under her feet the pomp of the world, made privately the three vows of religious persons, but with this condition, that she should continue at court, and wear a secular dress, her presence being necessary for the direction of certain affairs. This princess founded a rigorous nunnery of barefooted Poor Clares at Lisbon, for ladies of quality, and both she and the king were extremely desirous to detain the saint at court. But though they had fitted up apartments like a cell, with an oratory for him, and allowed him liberty to give himself up wholly to divine contemplation, according to his desire, yet he found the conveniences too great, and the palace not agreeable to his purposes. A great division having happened among the townsmen of Alcantara, he took this opportunity to leave the court, in order to reconcile those that were at variance. His presence and pathetic discourses easily restored peace among the inhabitants of Alcantara. This affair was scarcely finished, when, in 1538, he was chosen provincial of the province of St. Gabriel, or of Estramadura, which, though it was of the conventuals, had adopted some time before certain constitutions of a reform. The age required for this office being forty years, the saint warmly urged that he was only thirty-nine; but all were persuaded that his prudence and virtue were an overbalance. While he discharged this office he drew up several severe rules of reformation, which he prevailed on the whole province to accept in a chapter which he held at Placentia for this purpose, in 1540. Upon the expiration of the term of his provincialship, in 1541, he returned to Lisbon, to join F. Martin of St. Mary, who was laying the foundation of a most austere reformation of this order reduced to an eremitical life, and was building the first hermitage upon a cluster of barren mountains called Arbida, upon the mouth of the Tagus, on the opposite bank to Lisbon. The duke of Aveiro not only gave the ground, but also assisted them in raising cells. St. Peter animated the fervor of these religious brethren, and suggested many regulations which were adopted. The hermits of Arbida wore nothing on their feet, lay on bundles of vine-twigs, or on the bare ground, never touched flesh or wine, and ate no fish except on festivals. Peter undertook to awake the rest at midnight, when they said matins together; after which they continued in prayer till break of day. Then they recited prime, which was followed by one mass only, according to the original regulation of St. Francis After this, retiring to their cells, they remained there till tierce, which they recited together, with the rest of the canonical hours. The time between vespers and compline was allotted for manual labor. Their cells were exceeding mean and small: St. Peter’s was so little, that he could neither stand up nor lie down in it without bending the body. F. John Calus, general of the order, coming into Portugal, desired to see St. Peter, and made a visit to this hermitage. Being much edified with what he saw, he gave F. Martin leave to receive novices, bestowed on this reform the convents of Palhaes and Santaren, and erected it into a custody; his companion leaving him to embrace this reformation. The convent of Palhaes being appointed for the novitiate, St. Peter was nominated guardian, and charged with the direction of the novices.

Our saint had governed the novitiate only two years, when, in 1544, he was recalled by his own superiors into Spain, and received by his brethren in the province of Estramadura with the greatest joy that can be expressed. Heavenly contemplation being always his favorite inclination, though by obedience he often employed himself in the service of several churches, and in the direction of devout persons, he procured his superior’s leave to reside in the most solitary convents, chiefly at St. Onuphrius’s near Soriano. After four years spent in this manner, he was allowed, at the request of prince Lewis, the king’s most pious brother, and of the duke of Aveiro, to return to Portugal. During three years that he stayed in that kingdom he raised his congregation of Arbida to the most flourishing condition, and, in 1550, founded a new convent near Lisbon. This custody was erected into a province of the order, in 1560. His reputation for sanctity drew so many eyes on him, and gave so much interruption to his retirement, that he hastened back to Spain, hoping there to hide himself in some solitude. Upon his arrival at Placentia in 1551, his brethren earnestly desired to choose him provincial; but the saint turned himself into every shape to obtain the liberty of living some time to himself, and at length prevailed. In 1553 he was appointed custos by a general chapter held at Salamanca. In 1554 he formed a design of establishing a reformed congregation of friars upon a stricter plan than before; for which he procured himself to be empowered by a brief obtained of pope Julius III. His project was approved by the provincial of Estramadura, and by the bishop of Coria, in whose diocese the saint, with one fervent companion, made an essay of this manner of living in a small hermitage. A short time after, he went to Rome, and obtained a second brief, by which he was authorized to build a convent according to this plan. At his return a friend founded a convent for him, such a one as he desired, near Pedroso, in the diocese of Palentia, in 1555, which is the date of this reformed institute of Franciscans, called The Barefooted, or of the strictest observance of St. Peter of Alcantara. This convent was but thirty-two feet long, and twenty-eight, wide; the cells were exceeding small, and one half of each was filled with a bed, consisting of three hoards: the saint’s cell was the smallest and most inconvenient. The church was comprised in the dimensions given above, and of a piece with the rest. It was impossible for persons to forget their engagement in a penitential life while their habitations seemed rather to resemble graves than chambers. The count of Oropeza founded upon his estates two other convents for the saint; and certain other houses received his reformation, and others were built by him. In 1561 he formed them into a province, and drew up certain statutes, in which he orders that each cell should only be seven feet long, the infirmary thirteen, and the church twenty-four; the whole circumference of a convent forty or fifty feet; that the number of friars in a convent should never exceed eight; that they should always go barefoot, without socks or sandals; should lie on the boards, or mats laid on the floor; or, if the place was low and damp, on beds raised one foot from the ground; that none, except in sickness, should ever eat any flesh, fish, or eggs, or drink wine; that they should employ three hours every day in mental prayer, and should never receive any retribution for saying mass. The general appointed St. Peter commissary of his order in Spain in 1556, and he was confirmed in that office by pope Paul IV. in 1559. In 1561, while he was commissary, he was chosen provincial of his reformed order, and, going to Rome, begged a confirmation of this institute. Pius IV., who then sat in St. Peter’s chair, by a bull dated in February, 1562, exempted this congregation from all jurisdiction of the conventual Franciscans, (under whom St. Peter had lived,) and subjected it to the minister-general of the Observantins, with this clause, that it is to be maintained in the perpetual observance of the rules and statutes prescribed by St. Peter. It is propagated into several provinces in Spain, and is spread into Italy, each province in this reform consisting of about ten religious houses.

When the emperor Charles V., after resigning his dominions, retired to the monastery of St. Justus, in Estramadura, of the order of Hieronymites, in 1555, he made choice of St. Peter for his confessor, to assist him in his preparation for death; but the saint, foreseeing that such a situation would be incompatible with the exercises of assiduous contemplation and penance to which he had devoted himself, declined that post with so much earnestness, that the emperor was at length obliged to admit his excuses. The saint, while in quality of commissary he made the visitation of several monasteries of his order, arrived at Avila in 1559. St. Teresa labored at that time under the most severe persecutions from her friends and her very confessors, and under interior trials from scruples and anxiety, fearing at certain intervals, as many told her, that she might be deluded by an evil spirit. A certain pious widow lady, named Guiomera d’Ulloa, an intimate friend of St. Teresa, and privy to her troubles and afflictions, got leave of the provincial of the Carmelites that she might pass eight days in her house, and contrived that this great servant of God should there treat with her at leisure. St. Peter, from his own experience and knowledge in heavenly communications and raptures, easily understood her cleared all her perplexities, gave her the strongest assurances that her visions and prayer were from God, loudly confuted her calumniators, and spoke to her confessor in her favor.1 He afterwards exceedingly encouraged her in establishing her reformation of the Carmelite order, and especially in founding it in the strictest poverty.2 Out of his great affection and compassion for her under her sufferings, he told her in confidence many things concerning the rigorous course of penance in which he had lived for seven-and-forty years. “He told me,” says she, “that, to the best of my remembrance, he had slept but one hour and a half in twenty-four hours for forty years together; and that, in the beginning, it was the greatest and most troublesome mortification of all to overcome himself in point of sleep, and that in order for this he was obliged to be always either kneeling or standing on his feet: only when he slept he sat with his head leaning aside upon a little piece of wood fastened for that purpose in the wall. As to the extending his body at length in his cell it was impossible for him, his cell not being above four feet and a half in length. In all these years he never put on his capouch or hood, how hot soever the sun, or how violent soever the rain might be; nor did he ever wear any thing upon his feet, nor any other garment than his habit of thick coarse sackcloth, (without any other thing next his skin,) and this short and scanty, and as straight as possible, with a short mantle or cloak of the same over it. He told me, that when the weather was extreme cold, he was wont to put off his mantle, and to leave the door and the little window of his cell open, that when he put his mantle on again, and shut his door, his body might be somewhat refreshed with this additional warmth. It was usual with him to eat but once in three days; and he asked me why I wondered at it; for it was very possible to one who had accustomed himself to it. One of his companions told me, that sometimes he ate nothing at all for eight days; but that perhaps might be when he was in prayer: for he used to have great raptures, and vehement transports of divine love, of which I was once an eye-witness. His poverty was extreme, and so also was his mortification, even from his youth. He told me he had lived three years in a house of his order without knowing any of the friars but by their speech; for he never lifted up his eyes: so that he did not know which way to go to many places which he often frequented, if he did not follow the other friars. This likewise happened to him in the roads. When I came to know him he was very old, and his body so extenuated and weak that it seemed not to be composed but, as it were, of the roots of trees, and was so parched up that his skin resembled more the dried bark of a tree than flesh. He was very affable, but spoke little, unless some questions were asked him; and he answered in few words, but in these he was agreeable, for he had an excellent understanding.” St. Teresa observes, that though a person cannot perform such severe penance as this servant of God did, yet there are many other ways whereby we may tread the world under our feet; and our Lord will teach us these ways when he finds a mind that is fit.* To deny the obligation and necessity of some degree of exterior penance and mortification (which some now-a-days seem almost to cashier in practice) would be an error in faith. The extraordinary severities which the Baptist and so many other saints exercised upon themselves, ought to be to us sinners a subject of humiliation and self-reproach. We ought not to lose courage, if we do not, or cannot watch and fast as they did; but then we ought at least to be the more diligent in bearing the labors, pains, humiliations, and sickness with patience, and in the practice of interior self-denials, humility, and meekness.

St. Peter was making the visitation of his convents, and confirming his religious in that perfect spirit of penance with which he had inspired them, when he fell sick in the convent of Viciosa. The count of Oropeza, upon whose estate that house was situated, caused him, against his will, to be removed to his own house, and to take medicines and good nourishing food; but these, instead of relieving, aggravated his distemper: his pain in his stomach grew more violent, his fever redoubled, and an ulcer was formed in one of his legs. The holy man, perceiving that his last hour approached, would be carried to the convent of Arenas, that he might die in the arms of his brethren. He was no sooner arrived there but he received the holy sacraments. In his last moments he exhorted his brethren to perseverance, and to the constant love of holy poverty. Seeing he was come to the end of his course, he repeated those words of the psalmist: I have rejoiced in those things which have been said to me. We shall go into the house of the Lord. Having said these words, he rose upon his knees, and stooping in that posture, calmly expired on the 18th of October, in the year 1562, of his age sixty-three. St. Teresa, after mentioning his happy death, says: “Since his departure our Lord has been pleased to let me enjoy more of him than I did when he was alive: he has given me advice and counsel in many things, and I have frequently seen him in very great glory. The first time that he appeared to me, he said, ‘O happy penance, which hath obtained me so great a reward!’ with many other things. A year before he died, he appeared to me when we were at a distance from one another, and I understood that he was to die, and I advertised him of it. When he gave up the ghost he appeared to me, and told me that he was going to rest. Behold here the severe penance of his life ending in so much glory, that methinks he comforts me now much more than when he was here. Our Lord told me once that men should ask nothing in his name, wherein he would not hear them.—I have recommended many things to him, that he might beg them of our Lord, and I have always found them granted.”3 St. Peter was beatified by Gregory XV. in 1622, and canonized by Clement IX. in 1669.

We admire in the saints the riches and happiness of which they were possessed in the inestimable treasure of the divine love. They attained to, and continually improved this grace in their souls by the exercise of heavenly contemplation, and a perfect spirit of prayer; and laid the foundation of this spiritual tower by a sincere spirit of humility and penance. It costs nothing for a man to say that he desires to love God; but he lies to his own soul, unless he strive to die to himself. The senses must be restrained, and taught to obey, and the heart purged from sensual and inordinate attachments before it can be moulded anew, rendered spiritual, and inflamed with the chaste affections of pure and perfect love. This is the great work of divine grace in weak, impure creatures; but the conditions are, that perfect humility and penance prepare the way, and be the constant attendants of this love. How imperfect is it in our souls, if it is there at all! and how much is it debased by a mixture of sensual affections, and the poisonous stench of self-love not sufficiently vanquished and extinguished, because we neglect these means of grace! A sensual man cannot conceive those things which belong to God.

OCTOBER 19 — SS. PTOLEMY, LUCIUS, AND A THIRD COMPANION, MM

Ptolemy, a zealous Christian at Rome, had converted a married woman to the faith, whose brutish husband treated her on that account in the most barbarous manner, and never ceased to blaspheme God, the Creator of all things. She making use of the liberty which both the Roman law and the gospe11 gave her in that case, proceeded to a legal separation. The husband, in revenge, accused Ptolemy of being a Christian. The martyr lay a long time in a stinking dungeon, and being at length brought to his trial before Urbicius, prefect of Rome, boldly confessed his faith in Christ, and, without more ado, was condemned by the judge to lose his head. Lucius, a Christian, who was present, said to the prefect: “Where is the justice to punish a person who has not been convicted of any crime?” Urbicius said: “I presume you are also a Christian.” “I have that happiness,” replied Lucius. Urbicius, whose heart was hardened in injustice, passed sentence also on him. A third, who declared himself to have the same faith, and whose name is not known, was beheaded with them. They received their crowns in 166, in the reign of Marcus Aurelius. The saints looked on the goods and evils of this world with indifference, and went with joy to martyrdom, because they regarded this life only as a preparation for a better, and considered that they were immense gainers by death, which puts us in secure possession of eternal happiness. See St. Justin, Apol. vol. 1, ed. Ben. Eus. Hist.1. 4, c. 17.

OCTOBER 19 — ST. FRIDESWIDE, V. PATRONESS OF OXFORD

She was daughter of Didan, prince of Oxford, and the neighboring territory, and learned from her cradle that most important Christian maxim, that “whatsoever is no: God, is nothing.” Her mother’s name was Safrida From her infancy she exerted all her powers and strength, and made it her whole study to please him alone. Her education was intrusted to the care of a virtuous governess, named Algiva, and in the early period of her life her inclinations led her strongly to a religious state. Riches, birth, beauty, and whatever appeared flattering and dazzling in the eyes of the world, made no weight in the scales with her, unless it was to make her dread more the dangers and snares into which they often betray souls. In the duties of an active life she feared, in the dissipation and hurry of external duties, she should not have strength so well to stand her ground, but her heart would suffer some division. Every virtuous and just interest may and ought ultimately to terminate in God: thus are worldly duties to be made the objects of pure virtue, directed by the divine love. But to live in the world in such manner that her affections should contract nothing of its dust, seemed to Frideswide a difficult task; and the contemplative life of Mary presented charms with which her pure soul was infinitely delighted. She therefore desired earnestly to devote her virginity to God in a monastic state. Her mother was then dead, and her most religious father rejoiced in the choice which his daughter had made of the better part; and, about the year 750, he founded at Oxford a nunnery, in honor of St. Mary and all the saints, the direction of which was committed to her care.*

Sincere love or charity consists not in words, but in deeds. The holy virgin therefore considered, that to profess in words that she belonged wholly to God, would be a base dissimulation, and criminal hypocrisy, unless, by most strenuous endeavors, she made good her solemn promise to God, and studied to be entirely his in her whole heart, and in all her actions. The devil, envying her happy progress, assailed her virtue with implacable rage; but his fury rendered her victories more glorious. Algar, a Mercian prince, smitten with her beauty and virtues, and not being able to overcome her resolution of chastity, gave so far a loose to the reins of his criminal passion, as to lay a snare to carry her off. The holy virgin escaped his pursuits by concealing herself a long time in a hog-stye. The prince is said to have been miraculously struck with blindness just as he entered the city, and to have recovered his sight by his repentance and the prayer of the saint. After this accident, the holy virgin, to shun the danger of applause, and live more perfectly to God in closer retirement, built herself a little oratory at Thornbury, near the town, where, by the fervor and assiduity of her penance and heavenly contemplation, she made daily advances towards God and his kingdom. The more she tasted of the sweetness of his holy love, the more she despised the straws and dung of earthly vanities, and the more earnestly she sighed after the light of the children of God. The fountain which the saint made use of in this place was said to have been obtained by her prayers. St. Frideswide died before the end of the eighth century, was honored by many miracles, and the church in which she was buried became famous for the treasure of her relics, and took her name. Wood and others mention, that Martin Bucer’s Dutch wife, whom he brought over in the reign of Edward VI., was buried, in the reign of queen Elizabeth, in the spot where the relics of St. Frideswide had been scattered, with this inscription: Hic jacent religio et superstitio: the obvious meaning of which would lead us to think these men endeavored to extinguish and bury all religion. St. Frideswide was honored as patroness of the city and university of Oxford, also of Bommy, near Terouenne in Artois, and some other religious houses abroad. See William of Malmesbury, Brompton, the Monast. Anglic. vol. 1, pp. 173, 981; Ant. Wood, Hist, et Antiquitates Acad. Oxon.1. 2, p. 246; Leland’s Itinerary, published by Hearne, vol. 4, app. p. 156; Mabill. sc. 3, Ben. part. 2, p. 561; Bulteau, c. 6; Britannia Sancta, and Leland Collect, vol. 1, p. 342.

OCTOBER 19 — ST. ETHBIN, OR EGBIN, ABBOT

He was of a noble British family, and was sent early into France to be educated under the care of his countryman, St. Samson, who was then bishop of Dole. Under this excellent master he made great progress in virtue; and hearing one day at mass these words of the gospel: Every one of you that doth not renounce all that he possesseth, cannot be my disciple,1 he immediately formed a resolution to renounce the world. He was at this time a deacon, and having obtained his prelate’s consent he retired to the abbey of Taurac, in the year 554. Here he chose for his guide a holy monk named Guignole, or Winwaloe.* The community of Taurac being dispersed about the year 560, by an irruption of the Franks, and Guignole2 dying soon after, St. Ethbin passed into Ireland, where he lived twenty years in a cell which he had built for himself in the midst of a forest. He was famous for his austerities and his miracles, and died at the age of eighty-three, towards the close of the sixth century, on the 19th of October, the day on which his name occurs in the Roman Martyrology.

OCTOBER 20 — ST. ARTEMIUS, MARTYR

From Theodoret, Hist. Eccles.1. 3, c. 18; Chron. Pasch. p. 297, ed. Du Cange; Julian the Ap. ep. 10; Ammian. Marceli.1. 15, c. 23; Fleury,1. 15, c. 23.

A. D. 362.

AUGUSTUS, not being willing to intrust the government of Egypt, which was a rich and powerful country, from which the city of Rome was in part supplied with corn, to a senator, like other great provinces of the empire, passed an order that, instead of a proconsul, it should be governed only by a Roman knight, with the title of Augustal prefect.† The government of the troops was committed to a general officer with the title of duke, or general of Egypt. Artemius was honored with this command under Constantius, after Lucius and Sebastian. If, in executing some commissions under Constantius, he appeared against St. Athanasius, by various contrivances he afforded him means and opportunities to make his escape. If he betrayed 100 great weakness in obeying his prince at that time, he never approved his heresy. At least, that he was orthodox in his faith in the reign of Julian, is evident from Theodoret, the Paschal Chronicle, and the ancient Greek Calendars. The idolaters in Egypt accused him before that emperor of having demolished their temples, and broke down their idols. Julian summoned him to appear before him at Antioch in 362, and upon this indictment condemned him to be beheaded in that city, about the month of June in 362.

Artemius engaged in the service of impious Arians, who imbrued their hands in the blood of the saints, and placed on the pinnacle of worldly honors, stands upon the brink of the precipice, in imminent danger of being tumbled down headlong into everlasting flames; yet the omnipotent hand of God rescues him from these dangers, and leads him to bliss by a glorious martyrdom. The view of the many imminent dangers of perishing eternally, to which our souls have been often exposed, must fill us with the deepest sentiments of gratitude, love, and praise, for the infinite and most undeserved mercy by which we have been preserved. Should not we burst forth into incessant hymns of praise and thanksgiving? singing with the royal prophet: Unless the Lord had helped me, my soul had long ago dwelt in he11.1 Should not we, in a transport of gratitude, implore, without interruption, the divine grace, and resolve to serve God with all our strength that the fruit of so great mercies may not perish through our malice?

OCTOBER 20 — ST. BARSABIAS, ABBOT AND HIS COMPANIONS, MARTYRS, IN PERSIA

Eugenius, called by the Orientals, Abus, by the Chaldans, Avus, that is, Our Father, and corruptly by Sozomen, Aones, was a disciple of the great St. Antony. Travelling into the East, he founded and governed a numerous monastery near Nisibis, from whence he sent out colonies over all Persia, in which country there were many monasteries in the fourth century, as appears from Theodoret,1 Barebrus, and other Syrian writers.2 Sozomen tells us, that these monks, the disciples of Abus, completed the conversion of all Syria, and by their preaching brought to the right faith many among the Persians and Saracens.3 Barsabias was one of these zealous disciples of Abus, and was abbot in Persia, having under him ten monks, whom he educated with great attention and care in the paths of Christian perfection. His distinguished zeal made the persecutors mark him out one of the first for the slaughter. He was apprehended in the beginning of the great persecution of Sapor, and impeached before the governor of the province upon an indictment that he labored to abolish in Persia the religion of the Magians. With him his ten monks were led in chains to Astahara, a city near the ruins of Persepolis, where the governor of the province resided. This inhuman judge racked his brain to invent the most cruel kind of torments to inflict upon them. By his order their knees were bruised and shattered, their legs were broken, then their arms, sides, and ears were cut and torn in the most barbarous manner, their eyes were beaten, and their faces were swollen and inflamed with the buffets they had received. At length, the governor, enraged to see himself vanquished by their invincible virtue, and tired with tormenting them, condemned them to lose their heads. The martyrs walked joyfully to the place of execution, singing the praises of God in hymns and psalms, being surrounded by a great troop of soldiers and executioners, and followed by an incredible number of people. The good abbot desired earnestly to send before him to bliss all those souls which God had committed to his charge, and this petition which he put up to God with great ardor and charity, was granted.

The slaughter was already begun, when a Magian who happened to be travelling that way, with his wife, two children, and several servants, seeing the crowd, rode up through the people with a servant before him, to see what the matter was. He beheld the venerable abbot standing joyful, singing the divine praises, and taking each monk by the hand as they passed, as if it were to deliver them to the executioner. The Acts say he saw also a bright cross of fire shining over the bodies of the slain. Whether he had been before inclined to the Christian religion, or owed his conversion wholly to a sudden extraordinary light, he became on the spot a perfect Christian; and being moved by a strong impulse of divine grace, felt in himself an earnest desire to make one in that blessed company. He therefore alighted from his horse, changed clothes with his servant, and whispered in the abbot’s ear, begging to be admitted into the happy number of his holy troop, as he was united with them in faith and desire. The abbot assenting, he passed through his hands after the ninth, and was beheaded by the executioner, who did not know him. He was succeeded by the eleventh martyr. Last of all, the venerable Barsabias, the father of these martyrs, presented his neck to the executioner. The bodies of these twelve saints were left to be devoured by the wild beasts and birds of prey; but their heads were brought to the city, and set up in the temple of Nahitis, or Venus. For, though the Magians detested all idols, there were several sects of idolaters in many parts of Persia.* The example of the Magian martyr moved his wife, children, and whole family, zealously to profess the Christian faith. These martyrs suffered on the 3d day of June, in the third year of the great persecution of Sapor, the thirty-third of his reign, of Christ 342. St. Barsabias is commemorated both in the Greek Menologies and in the Roman Martyrology on the 11th of December. See the Chaldaic Acts of these martyrs published by Monsignor Stephen Assemani, Acta Mart. Orient. t. 1.

OCTOBER 20 — ST. ZENOBIUS, BISHOP OF FLORENCE, C

This holy pastor is honored at Florence as the patron, protector, and principal apostle of that city, of which he was a native. He was born towards the close of the reign of Constantine the Great, passed through a regular course of education under eminent masters; and applied himself particularly to the study of philosophy. In his search after wisdom he discovered the folly and falsehood of idolatry, in which he had been educated, and listening to the doctrine of the gospel, attained to the happiness of faith. The seeds of the Christian religion had taken some root at Florence under Romulus, Paulinus, and Frontinus, whom some call disciples of the apostle St. Peter.1 But Lamius2 shows that their mission seems not to have been of so early a date, but of the second or third age. Foggini3 thinks it not clear that St. Romulus, bishop of Fiesoli, two miles from Florence, flourished before the beginning of the fourth age, though it is not to be doubted but the faith of Christ began to be planted at Florence long before that time; which is manifest from the undoubted proofs that SS. Minias and his companions, St. Crescius, St. Entius, St. Pamphyla, and others, glorified God there by martyrdom in some of the first general persecutions. It appears no less certain that idolatry was still the fashionable or reigning religion at Florence when St. Zenobius became an humble follower of Christ. He was baptized privately by the bishop of Florence; at which his parents took so great offence, that they raised a violent storm both against their son and the bishop, pretending that the step they had taken was an injury done to their paternal authority. Zenobius answered both for himself and the bishop with so much meekness and constancy, and, in justifying his own conduct, interwove so rational an account of our holy faith, as to satisfy his parents. And when he had once gained their benevolence and attention, it was no hard matter to bring them over to the Church of Christ. In order to devote himself to God in the most perfect manner, and to qualify himself to impart the blessing of divine faith to his countrymen, he entered himself among the clergy. When he was only deacon, he preached with so great fruit, and such reputation, that he became known to St. Ambrose of Milan, and was called to Rome by pope Damasus. The death of that pontiff restored him to his liberty, which he made use of to return to Florence, where he began again to cultivate the vineyard which called for all his strength and attention. The bishop of that city dying, the saint was placed in that see, and by his admirable humility, modesty, abstinence, and charity, approved him self truly an apostolical pastor. In extirpating the kingdom of Satan, and establishing that of Christ in the hearts of so many multitudes, a sphere of action was opened to him commensurate to his zeal; nor did he ever cease earnestly commending to Christ the souls that were intrusted to his care, or feeding them with the word of God, who confirmed his doctrine by miracles. The minds of men grown old in any way of thinking, enfeebled by inveterate sloth, immersed in worldly pursuits, and enslaved to tyrannical passions, have, as it were, formed to themselves a bed in the earth, from which they cannot easily be removed. Zenobius was no stranger to the difficulties of the task which he had undertaken, to awake men who were insensible to spiritual things; he therefore redoubled his earnestness in his labors, and in engaging Omnipotence to bless them with success. Thus he had the comfort to see a numerous people brought into the path of everlasting happiness.

St. Zenobius died in the reign of Honorius. His relics are kept with veneration in the great church at Florence, and his name occurs in the Roman Martyrology on the 25th of May. See the abridgment of his ancient life in St. Antoninus, Ughelli in Italia Sacra, Foggini loco cit., and principally the accurate and elegant Giuseppe Richa, S. J. in Notizie Istoriche delle Chiese Florentine, t. 6, in Fierenze; Anno 1757.

OCTOBER 20 — SAINT SINDULPHUS, PRIEST OF RHEIMS COMMONLY CALLED ST. SENDOU

Inflamed with a desire to aim at perfection, he left Aquitaine, his native country, and sought for a retreat in the diocese of Rheims, about the beginning of the seventh century. He chose for his residence the village of Aussonce, four leagues from Rheims, where he joined assiduous prayer to the greatest austerities. He was eminent for his knowledge of the scriptures, and for instructing all those who came to consult him. He died before the middle of the seventh century, on the 20th of October, and was buried in the place of his retirement; but his relics were removed in the ninth century to the abbey of Hautevilliers, near Rheims. He is mentioned this day in the Roman Martyrology. See Mabill. Act. SS., t. 1, and part 2, sec. 4; Ben. Flodoard, Hist. Rem.1. 2, c. 9; Baillet, &c.

St. Aidan, bishop of Mayo, is mentioned this day in the Irish Calendar. He died in 768. See Ware and Colgan.

OCTOBER 21 — S. URSULA AND HER COMPANIONS, VV. AND MM

Middle of the Fifth Age

WHEN the pagan Saxons laid waste our island from sea to sea, many of its old British inhabitants fled into Gaul, and settled in Armorica, since called, from them, Little Britain. Others took shelter in the Netherlands, and had a settlement near the mouth of the Rhine, at a castle called Brittenburgh, as appears from ancient monuments and Belgic historians produced by Usher. These holy martyrs seem to have left Britain about that time, and to have met a glorious death in defence of their virginity from the army of the Huns, which in the fifth age plundered that country, and carried fire and the sword wherever they came. It is agreed that they came originally from Britain, and Ursula was the conductor and encourager of this holy troop.* Though their leaders were certainly virgins, it is not improbable that some of this company had been engaged in a married state. Sigebert’s Chronicle1 places their martyrdom in 453. It happened near the Lower Rhine, and they were buried at Cologne, where, according to the custom of those early ages, a great church was built over their tombs, which was very famous in 643, when St. Cunibert was chosen archbishop in it. St. Anno, who was bishop of Cologne in the eleventh age, out of devotion to these holy martyrs, was wont to watch whole nights in this church in prayer at their tombs, which have been illustrated by many miracles. These martyrs have been honored by the faithful for many ages, with extraordinary devotion in this part of Christendom. St. Ursula, who was the mistress and guide to heaven to so many holy maidens, whom she animated to the heroic practice of virtue, conducted to the glorious crown of martyrdom, and presented spotless to Christ, is regarded as a model and patroness by those who undertake to train up youth in the sentiments and practice of piety and religion. She is patroness of the famous college of Sarbonne, and titular saint of that church. Several religious establishments have been erected under her name and patronage for the virtuous education of young ladies. The Ursulines were instituted in Italy for this great and important end, by B. Angela of Brescia, in 1537, approved by Paul III. in 1544, and obliged to enclosure and declared a religious order under the rule of St. Austin, by Gregory XIII., in 1572, at the solicitation of St. Charles Borromeo, who exceedingly promoted this holy institute. The first monastery of this order in France was founded at Paris, in 1611, by Madame Magdalen l’Huillier, by marriage, de Sainte-Beuve. Before this, the pious mother, Anne de Xaintonge of Dijon, had instituted in Franche-Compte, in 1606, a religious congregation of Ursulines for the like purpose, which is settled in many parts of France, in which strict enclosure is not commanded.

Nothing, whether in a civil or religious view, is more important in the republic of mankind than a proper and religious education of youth, nor do any establishments deserve equal attention and encouragement among men with those which are religiously and wisely calculated for this great end. Yet, alas! is any thing in the world more neglected, either by parents at home, or by the wrong methods which are too frequently pursued in the very nurseries which are founded for training up youth? A detail would be too long for this place. There is certainly no duty which requires more virtue, prudence, and experience, or which parents, tutors, masters, mistresses, and others, are bound more diligently to study in its numberless branches.* But it is the height of our misfortune, that there is scarce a person in the world, howsoever unqualified, who does not think it an easy task, and look upon himself as equal to it; who is not ready to undertake it without reflection, and who, consequently, is not supinely careless both in studying and discharging its obligations; though no employment more essentially requires an extensive knowledge of all duties, of human nature, and its necessary accomplishments—the utmost application, attention, and patience; the most consummate prudence and virtue, and an extraordinary succor of divine light and grace.

OCTOBER 21 — ST. HILARION, ABBOT

Hilarion was born in a little town called Tabatha, five miles to the south of Gaza; he sprang like a rose out of thorns, his parents being idol aters. He was sent by them very young to Alexandria to study grammar when, by his progress in learning, he gave great proofs of his wit, for which and his good temper and dispositions, he was exceedingly beloved by all that knew him. Being brought to the knowledge of the Christian faith, he was baptized, and became immediately a new man, renouncing all the mad sports of the circus, and the entertainments of the theatre, and taking no delight but in the churches and assemblies of the faithful. Having heard of St. Antony whose name was famous in Egypt, he went into the desert to see him. Moved by the example of his virtue, he changed his habit, and stayed with him two months, observing his manner of life, his fervor in prayer, his humility in receiving the brethren, his severity in reproving them, his earnestness in exhorting them, and his perseverance in austerities. But not being able to bear the frequent concourse of those who resorted to St. Antony, to be healed of diseases or delivered from devils, and being desirous to begin to serve God like St. Antony in perfect solitude, he returned with certain monks into his own country. Upon his arrival there, finding his father and mother both dead, he gave part of his goods to his brethren, and the rest to the poor, reserving nothing for himself. He was then but fifteen years of age, this happening about the year 307. He retired into a desert seven miles from Majuma, towards Egypt, between the seashore on one side, and certain fens on the other. His friends forewarned him that the place was notorious for murders and robberies; but his answer was, that he feared nothing but eternal death. Everybody admired his fervor, and extraordinary manner of life. In the beginning of his retirement, certain robbers who lurked in those deserts, asked him what he would do if thieves and assassins came to him? He answered, “The poor and naked fear no thieves.” “But they may kill you,” said they. “It is true,” said the holy man, “and for this very reason I am not afraid of them, because it is my endeavor to be always prepared for death.” So great fervor and resolution in one so young and so tender as our saint, was both surprising and edifying so all who knew him. His constitution was so weak and delicate that the least, excess of heat or cold affected him very sensibly; yet his whole clothing consisted only of a piece of sackcloth, a leather coat which St. Antony gave him, and an ordinary short cloak. Living in solitude, he thought himself at liberty to practise certain mortifications, which the respect we owe to our neighbor makes unseasonable in the world. He cut his hair only once a year, against Easter; never changed any coat till it was worn out, and never washed the sackcloth which he had once put on, saying, “It is idle to look for neatness in a hair-shirt.”

At his first entering on this penitential life, he renounced the use of bread, and for six years together his whole diet was fifteen figs a day, which he never took till sunset. When he felt the attacks of any temptation of the flesh, being angry with himself, and beating his breast, he would say to his body: “I will take order, thou little ass, that thou shalt not kick; I will feed thee with straw instead of corn; and will load and weary thee, that so thou mayest think rather how to get a little bit to eat than of pleasure.” He then retrenched part of his scanty meal, and sometimes fasted three or four days without eating; and when after this he was fainting, he sustained his body only with a few dried figs, and the juice of herbs. At the same time praying and singing, he would be breaking the ground with a rake, that his labor might add to the trouble of his fasting. His employment was digging or tilling the earth, or, in imitation of the Egyptian monks, weaving small twigs together with great rushes in making baskets, whereby he provided himself with the frugal necessaries of life. When he felt himself weary, and ready to faint with labor, he said to his body, while he took his little refection of figs or some wild herbs: “If thou wilt not labor, thou shalt not eat; and seeing thou eatest now, prepare thyself again to work.” He knew a great part of the holy scripture by heart, and always recited some parts of it after he had said many psalms and prayers; he prayed with as great attention and reverence as if he had seen with his eyes our Lord present with whom he spoke. During the first four years of his penance he had no other shelter from the inclemencies of the weather than a little hovel or arbor which he made himself of reeds and rushes which he found in a neighboring marsh, and which he had woven together. Afterwards he built himself a little cell which was still to be seen in St. Jerom’s time. It was but four feet broad, and five in height; and was a little longer than the extent of his body, so that a person would have rather taken it for a grave than a house. During the course of his penance he made some alteration in his diet, but never in favor of his appetites. From the age of twenty-one, he for three years lived on a measure which was little more than half a pint of pulse steeped in cold water a day; and for the three next years his whole food was dry bread with salt and water. From his twenty-seventh year to his thirty-first, he ate only wild herbs and raw roots; and from thirty-one to thirty-five, he took for his daily food six ounces of barley bread a day, to which he added a few kitchen herbs, but half boiled, and without oil. But perceiving his sight to grow dim, and his body to be subject to an itching, with an unnatural kind of scurf and roughness, he added a little oil to this diet. Thus he went on till his sixty-fourth year, when, conceiving by the decay of his strength that his death was drawing near, he retrenched even his bread, and from that time to his eightieth year, his whole meal never exceeded five ounces. When he was fourscore years of age there were made for him little weak broths or gruels of flour and herbs, the whole quantity of his meat and drink scarce amounting to the weight of four ounces. Thus he passed his whole life; and he never broke his fast till sunset, not even upon the highest feasts, or in his greatest sickness. It is the remark of St. Jerom, that slothful Christians too easily make old age and every other pretence a plea to be the more remiss in their penance; but fervor made St. Hilarion contrive means to redouble his austerities in his decrepit age, as the nearer the prospect of certain death grew, and the shorter time remained for his preparation. His long life is chiefly ascribed to his regularity, moderate labor, and great abstemiousness. It is a proverb which the experience of all ages confirms, that to eat long, a person ought to eat little.

Any one who considers the condition of man in this state of trial, and the malice of the enemy of our salvation, will easily conceive that our saint did not pass all these years, nor arrive at so eminent a degree of virtue and sanctity, without violent temptations and assaults from the infernal spirit; in all which he was victorious by the assistance of omnipotent grace. Sometimes his soul was covered with a dark cloud, and his heart was dry and oppressed with bitter anguish; but the deafer heaven seemed to his cries on such occasions, the louder and the more earnestly he persevered knocking. To have dropped the shield of prayer under these temptations would have been to perish. At other times his mind was haunted, and his imagination filled with impure images, or with the vanities of the theatre and circus. These most painful assaults the hermit repulsed with watchfulness, prayer, severe mortifications, and hard labor. The adversary thus worsted, renewed the attack under various other forms, sometimes alarming the saint with great variety of noises, at other times endeavoring to affright him with hideous appearances and monstrous spectres. When all this terrible artillery proved too weak, he shifted the scene, and presented him again with all that could delight and charm the senses. The phantoms of the enemy St. Hilarion dissipated by casting himself upon his knees and signing his forehead with the cross of Christ; and being enlightened and strengthened by a supernatural grace he discovered his snares, and never suffered himself to be imposed upon by the artifices by which that subtle fiend strove to withdraw him from holy prayer, in which the saint spent the days and great part of the nights. After the departure of the vanquished enemy, the saint found his soul filled with unspeakable peace and joy, and in the jubilation of his heart sung to God hymns of praise and thanksgiving, saying: He hath cast the horse and the horseman into the sea; some trust in their chariots, and some in their horses, &c. From his victories themselves he learned to be more humble, watchful, and timorous.

St. Hilarion had spent above twenty years in his desert when he wrought his first miracle. A certain married woman of Eleutheropolis, who was the scorn of her husband for her barrenness, sought him out in his solitude, and by her tears and importunities prevailed upon him to pray that God would bless her with fruitfulness; and before the year’s end she brought forth a son. A second miracle much enhanced the saint’s reputation. Elpidius, who was afterwards prefect of the prtorium,1 and his wife Aristeneta, returning from a visit of devotion they had made to St. Antony to receive his blessing and instructions, arrived at Gaza, where their three children fell sick, and their fever proving superior to the power of medicines, they were brought to the last extremity, and their recovery despaired of by the physicians. The mother, like one distracted, addressed herself to Hilarion, who, moved by her tears, went to Gaza to visit them. Upon his invoking the holy name of Jesus by their bedside, the children fell into a violent sweat, by which they were so refreshed as to be able to eat, to know their mother, and kiss the saint’s hand. Upon the report of this miracle many flocked to the saint, desiring to embrace a monastic life under his direction. Till that time neither Syria nor Palestine were acquainted with that penitential state; so that St. Hilarion was the first founder of it in those countries, as St. Antony had been in Egypt. Among other miraculous cures, several persons possessed by devils were delivered by our saint. The most remarkable were Marisitas, a young man of the territory about Jerusalem, so strong that he boasted he could carry seven bushels of corn; and Orion, a rich man of the city of Aila, who, after his cure, pressed the saint to accept many great presents, at least for the poor. But the holy hermit persisted obstinately to refuse touching any of them, bidding him bestow them himself. St. Hilarion restored sight to a woman of Facidia, a town near Rino-corura, in Egypt, who had been blind ten years. A citizen of Majuma, called Italicus, who was a Christian, kept horses to run in the circus against a Duumvil of Gaza, who adored Marnas, which was the great idol of Gaza, that word signifying in Syriac, Lord of men.2 Italicus, knowing that his adversary had recourse to spells to stop his horses, came to St. Hilarion, by whose blessing his horses seemed to fly, while the others seemed fettered; upon seeing which the people cried out, that Marnas was vanquished by Christ. This saint also delivered a girl in Gaza whom a young man had inspired with a frantic passion of love, by certain spells, and magical figures on graved on a copper-plate, which he had put under the door, bound with a thread. It was pretended that the effect depended upon this charm, and could not be broke but by the removal of the charm; but St. Hilarion would not suffer either the young man or the spell or mark of witchcraft to be sought after, saying, that in order to drive away the devil it was not necessary to destroy the charm, or give credit to his words, which are always deceitful; and he delivered the girl, though the spell continued under the threshold. A native of Franconia, in Germany, one of the guards of Constantius, of those called, from their white garments, Candidati, being possessed by an evil spirit, came from court with a great attendance, having letters from the emperor to the governor of Palestine. This man with his numerous train went from Gaza to visit St. Hilarion, whom he found walking on the sands saying his prayers. The saint, who understood his errand, commanded the devil in the name of Christ to depart, and the Frank was immediately delivered. Through simplicity he offered the saint ten pounds of gold: St. Hilarion presented him one of his barley loaves, saying, that they who wanted no other food, despised gold like dirt. From the model which our saint set, a great number of monasteries were founded all over Palestine. St. Hilarion visited them all on certain days before the vintage. In one of these visits, seeing the Saracens assembled in great numbers at Eleusa, in Iduma, to adore Venus, he shed abundance of tears to God for them. Many sick persons of this nation had been cured, and demoniacs delivered by our saint, who was, on that account, well known by them, and they asked his blessing. He received them with mildness and humility, conjuring them to adore God rather than stones. His words had such an effect upon them, that they would not suffer him to leave them till he had traced the ground for laying the foundation of a church for them, and till their priest, who then wore a garland in honor of their idols, was become a catechumen.

St. Hilarion was informed by revelation in Palestine, where he then was, of the death of St. Antony. He was then about sixty-five years old, and had been for two years much afflicted at the great number of bishops, priests, and people that were continually resorting to him; by which his contemplation was interrupted. At length, regretting the loss of that sweet solitude and obscurity which he formerly enjoyed, he resolved to leave that country, to prevent which the people assembled to the number of ten thousand to watch him. He told them he would neither eat nor drink till they let him go; and seeing him pass seven days without taking any thing, they left him. He then chose forty monks who were able to walk without breaking their fast, (that is, without eating till after sunset,) and with them he travelled into Egypt. On the fifth day he arrived at Peleusium; and in six days more at Babylon, in Egypt. Two days after, he came to the city of Aphroditon, where he applied himself to the deacon Baisanes, who used to let dromedaries to those who had desired to visit St. Antony, for carrying water which they had occasion for in that desert. The saint desired to celebrate the anniversary of St. Antony’s death, by watching all night in the place where he died. After travelling three days in a horrible desert they came to St. Antony’s mountain, where they found two monks, Isaac and Pelusius, who had been, his disciples, and the first his interpreter. It was a very high steep rock, of a mile in circuit, at the foot of which was a rivulet, with abundance of palm-trees on the borders. St. Hilarion walked all over the place with the disciples of St. Antony. Here it was, said they, that he sang, here he prayed: there he labored, and there he reposed himself when he was weary. He himself planted these vines, and these little trees; he tilled this piece of ground with his own hands; he dug this basin with abundance of labor, to water his garden, and he used this hoe to work with several years together. St. Hilarion laid himself upon his bed, and kissed it as if it had been still warm. The cell contained no more space in length and breadth than what was necessary for a man to stretch himself into sleep. On the top of the mountain, (to which the ascent was very difficult, turning like a vine,) they found two cells of the same size, to which he often retired to avoid a number of visitors, and even the conversation of his own disciples; they were hewn in a rock, nothing but doors being added to them. When they came to the garden, “Do you see,” said Isaac, “this little garden planted with trees and pot-herbs? About three years since a herd of wild asses coming to destroy it, he stopped one of the first of them, and striking him on the sides with his staff, said: ‘Why do you eat what you did not sow?’ From that time forward they only came hither to drink, without meddling with the trees or herbs.” St. Hilarion asked to see the place where he was buried. They carried him to a by-place; but it is uncertain whether they showed it him or no; for they showed no grave, and only said, that St. Antony had given the strictest charge that his grave should be concealed, fearing lest Pergamius, who was a very rich man in that country, should carry the body home, and cause a church to be built for it.

St. Hilarion returned from this place to Aphroditon, and retiring with only two disciples into a neighboring desert, exercised himself with more earnestness than ever in abstinence and silence; saying, according to his custom, that he then only began to serve Jesus Christ. It had not rained in the country for three years, that is, ever since the death of St. Antony, when the people, in deep affliction and misery, addressed themselves to St. Hilarion, whom they looked upon as St. Antony’s successor, imploring his compassion and prayers. The saint, sensibly affected with their distress, lifted up his hands and eyes to heaven, and immediately obtained a plentiful rain. Also many laborers and herdsmen who were stung by serpents and venomous beasts, were perfectly cured by anointing their wounds with oil which he had blessed and given them. Though oil be the natural and sovereign antidote against poison, these cures by his blessing were esteemed miraculous. The saint, seeing the extraordinary honors which were paid him in that place, departed privately towards Alexandria, in order to proceed to the desert of Oasis. It not being his custom to stop in great cities, he turned from Alexandria into Brutium, a remote suburb of that city, where several monks dwelt. He left this place the same evening, and when these monks very importunately pressed his stay, he told them that it was necessary for their security that he should leave them. The sequel showed that he had the spirit of prophecy; for that very night armed men arrived there in pursuit of him, with an order to put him to death. When Julian the Apostate ascended the throne, the pagans of Gaza obtained an order from that prince to kill him, in revenge of the affront he had put upon their god Marnas, and of the many conversions he had made; and they had sent this party into Egypt to execute the sentence. The soldiers, finding themselves disappointed at Brutium, said he well deserved the character of a magician which he had at Gaza. The saint spent about a year in the desert of Oasis, and finding that he was too well known in that country ever to lie concealed there, determined to seek shelter in some remote island, and, going to Paretonium in Libya, embarked there with one companion for Sicily. He landed at Pachymus, a famous promontory on the eastern side of the island, now called Capo di Passaro. Upon landing he offered to pay for his passage and that of his companion, with a copy of the gospels which he had written in his youth with his own hand; but the master, seeing their whole stock consisted in that manuscript and the clothes on their backs, would not accept of it; he even esteemed himself indebted to this passenger, who by his prayers had delivered his son, who was possessed by a devil, on board the vessel. St. Hilarion, fearing lest he should be discovered by some oriental merchants if he settled near the coast, travelled twenty miles up the country, and stopped in an unfrequented wild place; where, by gathering sticks, he made every day a fagot, which he sent his disciple, whose name was Zanan, to sell at the next village, in order to buy a little bread. Devils in possessed persons soon discovered him, and the saint freed them, and cured many sick persons; but constantly refused all presents that were offered him, saying, Freely ye have received, freely give.3 Hesychius, the saint’s beloved disciple, had sought him in the East and through Greece, when, at Methone, now called Modon, in Peloponnesus, he heard that a prophet had appeared in Sicily, who wrought many miracles. He embarked, and arrived at Pachynus; and, inquiring for the holy man at the first village, found that everybody knew him: he was not more distinguished by his miracles than by his disinterestedness; for he could never be prevailed upon to take any thing, not so much as a morsel of bread, from any one.

St. Hilarion was desirous to go into some strange country, where not even his language should be understood. Hesychius therefore carried him to Epidaurus in Dalmatia, now Old Ragusa, the ruins of which city are seen near the present capital of the republic of that name.* Miracles here again defeated the saint’s design of living unknown. St. Jerom relates that a serpent of an enormous size devoured both cattle and men, and that the saint, having prayed, commanded this monster to come into the midst of a pile of wood prepared on purpose: then set fire to it, so that this pernicious creature was burnt to ashes. He also tells us, that when the most dreadful earthquake mentioned by historians, both ecclesiastical and profane,4 happened in the year 365, in the first consulship of Valentinian and Valens, the sea on the coast of Dalmatia swelled so high as to overflow the land, and threaten to overwhelm the whole city of Epidaurus. The affrighted inhabitants in a crowd brought Hilarion to the shore, as it were to oppose him as a strong wall against the furious waves. The saint made three crosses in the sand, then stretched forth his arms towards the sea; and, to the astonishment of all, its billows stopped, and, rising up like a high mountain returned back. St. Hilarion, seeing it impossible to live there unknown fled away in the night in a small vessel to the island of Cyprus. Being arrived there he retired to a place two miles from Paphos. He had not been there three weeks when such as were possessed with devils in any part of the island began to cry out that Hilarion, the servant of Jesus Christ, was come. He expelled the evil spirits, but, sighing after the tranquillity of closer retirement, considered how he could make his escape to some other country; but the inhabitants watched him that he might not leave them. After two years, Hesychius persuaded him to lay aside that design, and retire to a solitary place which he had found, twelve miles from the shore, not unpleasantly situated, among very rough and craggy mountains, where there was water, with fruit-trees, which advice the saint followed, but he never tasted the fruit. Here he lived five years, and wrought several miracles. The sweetness and spiritual advantages which he reaped from heavenly contemplation made him trample under his feet all earthly considerations, and made it the great object of his desires in this life to labor incessantly to purge his soul more and more from all stains and imperfections by tears of compunction, and other practices of penance, and to imitate on earth, as much as possible, the happy employment of the blessed in heaven. St. Jerom mentions that though he lived so many years in Palestine, he never went up to visit the holy places at Jerusalem but once; and then stayed only one day in that city. He went once that he might not seem to despise that devotion; but did not go oftener, lest he should seem persuaded that God, or his religious worship, is confined to any particular place.5 His chief reason, doubtless, was to shun the distractions of populous places that, as much as possible, nothing might interrupt the close union of his soul to God. The saint, in the eightieth year of his age, while Hesychius was absent, wrote him a short letter with his own hand in the nature of a last will and testament, in which he bequeathed to him all his riches, namely, his book of the gospels, his sackcloth, hood, and little cloak. Many pious persons came from Paphos to see him in his last sickness, hearing he had foretold that he was to go to our Lord. With them there came a holy woman named Constantia, whose son-in-law and daughter he had freed from death by anointing them with oil. He caused them to swear that as soon as he should have expired, they would immediately commit his corpse to the earth, apparelled as he was, with his hair-cloth, hood, and cloak. His distemper increasing upon him, very little heat appeared to remain in his body, nor did any thing seem to remain in him of a living man besides his understanding, only his eyes were still open. He expressed his sense of the divine judgments, but encouraged his soul to an humble confidence in the mercy of his Judge and Redeemer, saying to himself: “Go forth, what dost thou fear? go forth, my soul, what dost thou apprehend? Behold it is now near threescore and ten years that thou hast served Christ; and art thou afraid of death?” He had scarcely spoken these words but he gave up the ghost, and was immediately buried as he had ordered.

If this saint trembled after an innocent, penitential, and holy life, because he considered how perfect the purity and sanctity of a soul must be to stand before him who is infinite purity and infinite justice; how much ought tepid, slothful, and sinful Christians to fear! While love inflames the saints with an ardent desire of being united to their God in the kingdom of pure love and security, a holy fear of his justice checks and humbles in them all presumption. This fear must never sink into despondency, abjection, or despair; but quicken our sloth, animate our fervor, and raise our courage; it must be solicitous, not anxious or pusillanimous; and, while we fear from whatever is in us, love and hope must fill our souls with sweet peace and joy, and with an entire confidence in the infinite mercy and goodness of God, and the merits of our divine Redeemer. St. Hilarion died in 371, or the following year, being about eighty years of age; for he was sixty-five years old at the death of St. Antony. Hesychius, who was in Palestine, made haste to Cyprus upon hearing this news, and, pretending to take up his dwelling in the same garden, after ten months found an opportunity of secretly carrying off the saint’s body into Palestine, where he interred it in his monastery, near Majuma. It was as entire as it was when alive, and the cloths were untouched. Many miracles were wrought, both in Cyprus and Palestine, through his intercession, as St. Jerom assures us. Sozomen mentions his festival to have been kept with great solemnity in the fifth age.6 See his life written by St. Jerom before the year 392, (Ed. Ben. t. 4, part 2, p. 74;) Pagi ad ann. 372; Fleury, t. 2.

OCTOBER 21 — ST. FINTAN, SURNAMED MUNNU, ABBOT IN IRELAND

Beino descended of the noble family of Nial, he forsook the world in hid youth, and was desirous to consecrate himself to God in the great monastery of Hij, under the discipline of St. Columba; but God, for greater designs, prevented the execution of that project, and Fintan, after St. Columba’s death, sailed back to Ireland, and founded a great monastery, called from him Teach-Munnu, in the south part of Leinster, in the land of Kinselach. He was famous for his virtues, miracles, and disciples. The annals of Tigernach place his death in 634, on the 31st of October. He is commemorated in the old Scottish Breviary, under the name of St. Mundus, abbot. See Usher, Ant. c. 17, p. 485; St. Adamnan, in vit S. Columb; Colgan, in his Acts of the Saints of Ireland; and Britannia Sancta.

OCTOBER 22 — ST. PHILIP, BISHOP OF HERACLEA AND COMPANIONS, MM

From their original acts, published by Mabillon, in Vetera Analecta, t. 4, p. 134, and more correctly by Ruinart, p. 409; Tiliemont, t. 5.

A. D. 304.

PHILIP, a venerable old man, bishop of Heraclea, the metropolis of Thrace, was an illustrious martyr of Christ in the persecution of Dioclesian. Having discharged every duty of a faithful minister in the characters of deacon and priest in that city, he was raised to the episcopal dignity, and governed that church with great virtue and prudence when it was shaken by violent storms. To extend and perpetuate the work of God, he was careful to train up many disciples in the study of sacred learning, and in the practice of solid piety. Two of the most eminent among them had the happiness to be made companions of his martyrdom, namely, Severus, a priest, whose laborious and penitential life proved him to be a true disciple of the cross; and Hermes, a deacon, who was formerly the first magistrate of the city, and in that office, by his charity and universal benevolence, had gained the esteem and affection of all the citizens; but after he was engaged in the ministry, gained his livelihood with his own hands, and brought up his son to do the same. Dioclesian’s first edicts against the Christians being issued out, many advised the holy bishop to leave the city; but he would not even stir out of the church, continuing to exhort the brethren to constancy and patience, and preparing them for the celebration of the feast of the Epiphany. While he preached to them, Aristomachus, the stationary, (that is, an officer of the town,) came, by the governor’s order, to seal up the door of the church. The bishop said to him, “Do you imagine that God dwells within walls, and not rather in the hearts of men?” He continued to hold his assemblies before the doors of the church. The next day certain officers came, and set their seal upon the sacred vessels and books. The faithful, who beheld this, were much grieved; but the bishop, who stood leaning against the door of the church, encouraged them with his inflamed discourses. Afterwards the governor, Bassus, finding Philip and many of his flock assembled before the church door, gave orders that they should be apprehended, and brought before him. Being seated on his tribunal, he said to them, “Which of you is the teacher of the Christians?” Philip replied, “I am the person you seek.” Bassus said, “You know that the emperor has forbidden your assemblies. Surrender into my hands the vessels of gold and silver which you make use of, and the books which you read.” The bishop answered, “The vessels and treasure we will give you, for it is not by precious metal but by charity that God is honored. But the sacred books it neither becomes you to demand, nor me to surrender.” The governor ordered executioners to be called into court, and commanded Muccapor, the most noted among them for his inhumanity, to torture the holy prelate. Philip bore his torments with invincible courage. Hermes told the governor that it was not in his power to destroy the word of God, even though he should take away all the writings in which the true doctrine is contained. The judge commanded him to be scourged. After this he went with Publius, the governor’s successor, to the place where the sacred writings and plate were hid. Publius would have conveyed away some of the vessels, but being hindered by Hermes, he gave him such a blow on the face that the blood followed. The governor, Bassus, was provoked at Publius for this action, and ordered the deacon’s wound to be dressed. He distributed the vessels and books among his officers; and, to please the infidels and terrify the Christians, caused Philip and the other prisoners to be brought to the market-place, surrounded with guards, and the church to be uncovered by taking off the tiles. In the mean time, by his orders, the soldiers burned the sacred writings, the flames mounting so high as to frighten the standers-by. This being told to Philip in the market-place, he took occasion from this fire to discourse of the vengeance with which God threatens the wicked, and represented to the people how their gods and temples had been often burned, beginning with Hercules, protector of their city, from whom it derived its name. By this time, Caliphronius, a pagan priest, appeared in the market-place with his ministers, who brought with them the necessary preparations for a sacrifice and a profane feast Immediately after, the governor, Bassus, came, followed by a great multitude, some of whom pitied the suffering Christians, others, especially the Jews, clamored loudly against them. Bassus pressed the bishop to sacrifice to the gods, to the emperors, and to the fortune of the city. Then pointing at a large and beautiful statue of Hercules, he bade him consider what veneration was due to that piece. Philip showed the absurdity of adoring a base metal, and the work of a drunken statuary. Bassus asked Hermes if he, at least, would sacrifice. “I will not,” replied Hermes, “I am a Christian” Bassus said, “If we can persuade Philip to offer sacrifice, will you follow his example?” Hermes answered he would not; neither could they persuade Philip. After many useless threats, and pressing them to sacrifice at least to the emperors, he ordered them to be carried to prison. As they went along, some of the rabble insolently pushed Philip, and often threw him down; but he rose with a joyful countenance, without the least indignation or grief. All admired his patience, and the martyrs entered the prison joyfully, singing a psalm of thanksgiving to God. A few days after they were allowed to stay at the house of one Pancras, near the prison, where many Christians and some new converts resorted to them to be instructed in the mysteries of faith. After some time they were remanded to a prison contiguous to the theatre, which had a door into that building, with a secret entry. They there received the crowds that came to visit them in the night.

In the mean time, Bassus going out of office at the expiration of his term, one Justin succeeded him. The Christians were much afflicted at this change; for Bassus often yielded to reason, his wife having for some time worshipped the true God herself; but Justin was a violent man. Zoilus, the magistrate of the city, brought Philip before him, who declared to the saint the emperor’s order, and pressed him to sacrifice. Philip answered, “I am a Christian, and cannot do what you require. Your commission is to punish our refusal, not to force our compliance.” Justin said, “You know not the torments which shall be your portion.” Philip replied, “You may torment, but will not conquer me: no power can induce me to sacrifice.” Justin told him he should be dragged by the feet through the streets of the city, and if he survived that punishment, should be thrown into prison again to suffer new torments. Philip answered, “God grant it may be so.” Justin commanded the soldiers to tie his feet, and drag him along. They dashed him against so many stones, that he was torn and bruised all over his body. The Christians carried him in their arms when he was brought back to his dungeon. The enraged idolaters had long been in quest of Severus, the priest, who had hid himself, when inspired by the Holy Ghost, he at length surrendered himself, and was carried before the governor, and committed to prison. Hermes was likewise steady in his examination before Justin, and was treated in the same manner. The three martyrs were kept imprisoned in a bad air seven months, and then removed to Adrianople, where they were confined in a private country-house till the arrival of the governor. The next day, holding his court at the Therm, he caused Philip to be brought before him, and to be beaten with rods till his bowels appeared bare. His courage astonished the executioners, and Justin himself, who remanded him to prison. Hermes was next examined, and to him all the officers of the court were favorable, because having been formerly decurio, or chief magistrate of the city of Heraclea, he had obliged them all on several occasions, though he declared in his examinations that he had been a Christian from his cradle. He persisted in this profession, and was sent back to prison, where the holy martyrs joyfully gave thanks to Jesus Christ for this beginning of their victory. Philip, though of a weak and delicate constitution, did not feel the least inconvenience. Three days after this, Justin caused them to be brought again before his tribunal, and having in vain pressed Philip to obey the emperors, said to Hermes; “If the approach of death makes this man think life not worth preserving, do not you be insensible to its blessings, and offer sacrifice.” Hermes replied by showing the blindness and absurdity of idolatry; so that Justin being enraged, cried out, “Thou speakest as if thou wouldst fain make me a Christian.” Having then advised with his assessor and others, he pronounced sentence in these terms: “We order that Philip and Hermes, who, despising the commands of the emperor, have rendered themselves unworthy of the name of Romans, be burned, that others may learn to obey.” They went joyfully to the pile. Philip’s feet were so sore that he could not walk, and therefore he was carried to execution. Hermes followed him with much difficulty, being afflicted also in his feet; and he said to him, “Master, let us hasten to go to our Lord. Why should we be concerned about our feet, since we shall have no more occasion for them?” Then he said to the multitude that followed them, “The Lord revealed to me that I must suffer. While I was asleep, methought I saw a dove as white as snow, which, entering into the chamber, rested on my head, and descending upon my breast, presented me some meat which was very agreeable to the taste. I knew that it was the Lord that called me, and was pleased to honor me with martyrdom.” Fleury remarks, that this delicious meat seems to mean the eucharist, which the martyrs received before the combat. When they came to the place of punishment, the executioners, according to custom, covered Philip’s feet and legs with earth up to the knees; and having tied his hands behind his back nailed them to the pile. They likewise made Hermes go down into a ditch who, supporting himself upon a club, because his feet trembled, said smiling; “O demon, thou canst not suffer me even here.” Immediately, the executioners covered his feet with earth; but before they lighted the fire, he called upon Velogus, a Christian, and said to him; “I conjure you by our Saviour Jesus Christ, tell my son Philip from me, to restore whatever was committed to my charge, that I may incur no fault: even the laws of this world ordain it. Tell him also, that he is young, and must get his bread by labor, as he has seen me do, and behave himself well to everybody.” He spoke of the treasures of the church, or of deposites lodged in his hands. Hermes having spoken thus, his hands were tied behind his back, and fire was set to the pile. The martyrs praised, and gave thanks to God as long as they were able to speak. Their bodies were found entire; Philip having his hands stretched out as in prayer; Hermes with a clear countenance, only his ear a little blue. Justin ordered their bodies to be thrown into the Hebrus; but certain citizens of Adrianople went in boats with nets, and fished them out while they were entire, and hid them for three days at a place called Ogestiron, twelve miles from the city. Severus, the priest, who had been left alone in prison, being informed of their martyrdom, rejoiced at their glory, and earnestly besought God not to think him unworthy to partake in it, since he had confessed his name with them. He was heard, and suffered martyrdom the day after them. The order for burning the holy scriptures and destroying the churches, points out the time of their suffering to have been after the first edicts of Dioclesian. The 22d of October is consecrated in the Martyrologies to their memory.

A just and humble fear, the assiduous practice of penance, and all other virtues, the most fervent use of the sacraments, prayer, and meditation on eternal truths, a contempt of the world, and of the goods and evils of this life, and a constant attention to those to come, were the weapons with which the martyrs stood always prepared for the combat, and the source of the courage and strength which they obtained of God, and by which they triumphed. The spiritual persecutions of the world are often more dangerous than those of the sword, and they corrupt far more souls. The allurements of pleasure and riches; the pomps of vanity, and the snares of pride and ambition, murder more souls than the Neros and Dioclesians murdered bodies. We run into the arms of certain death if we expose ourselves to our enemies bereft of our weapons. Constant watchfulness, penance, prayer, and the like means above mentioned, are the bucklers with which we must be always shielded, that we may be rendered invincible against the devil.

OCTOBER 22 — SS. NUNILO AND ALODIA, VIRGINS AND MARTYRS IN SPAIN

Roderic having dethroned and pulled out the eyes of Vitiza, the Gothic king of Spain, and excluded his children from the crown, usurped himself the throne, in 711. Count Julian, the most powerful nobleman in Spain, and governor of that part which was contiguous to the Straits, out of revenge for an insult which Roderic had offered his daughter, whom that tyrant had ravished, invited the Moors or Saracens from Africa into Spain Mousa, who was governor of those Saracens, having obtained the consen of the caliph Miramolin, sent first only twelve thousand men under a general named Tarif, who easily possessed themselves of Mount Calpe, and the town Heraclea, which these Moors called from that time, Gibraltar, or Mount of Tarif, from this general, and the word Gibel, which in Arabic signifies mountain; whence tna in Sicily was called by the Saracens, Gibel. These Moors maintained their ground in this fortress, and being reinforced from Africa, defeated the Spaniards in Andalusia. King Roderic was no more heard of after this battle; but two hundred years after, his tomb was discovered in a country church in Portugal; from which circumstance it is conjectured that he fled, and hid himself in that country. Tarif made himself master of Mantesa, Malaga, Murcia, and Toledo, the capital of the Gothic empire. Mousa, jealous of his success, crossed the Straits with another army, took Seville, Merida, and other places, and in three years time the Moors or Saracens were masters of all Spain, in 716, and carried away an immense booty. A misunderstanding arising between Tarif and Mousa, they were both recalled by Miramolin, and Mousa’s son Abdalasisa left governor of Spain, and Seville made the capital, though Tarif had resided at Cordova. The Spanish Goths chose Pelagius, the sole surviving prince of the blood royal, king of Spain, in 716, who assembled an army in the mountains of Asturias, recovered that country, Galicia, and Biscay, and afterwards Leon; and erected the Christian kingdom, called first of Asturias afterwards of Leon. This prince gave great proofs of his valor and piety; as did his successor, Alphonsus the Catholic. The Saracen governors, especially the third, called Abderamene, ruled with great cruelty, and often carried their arms into the southern parts of France, but were repulsed by Charles Martel. This governor Abderamene, surnamed Adahil, in 759 shook off all dependence upon the sultans of Egypt, took the title of king and fixed his court at Cordova; and the other Moorish governors in Spain imitated his example. After the first desolation of war many of these princes tolerated the Christians in their dominions, and allowed them to build new churches and monasteries under certain conditions, and according to the laws of a polity established by them. But, in the ninth century, a most cruel persecution was raised at Cordova, by king Abderamene the Second, and his son Mahomet.

Among the numberless martyrs who in those days sealed their fidelity to the law of God with their blood, two holy virgins were most illustrious. They were sisters, of noble extraction, and their names were Nunilo and Alodia. Their father was a Mahometan, and their mother a Christian, and after the death of her first husband, she was so unhappy as to take a second husband who was also a Mahometan. Her two daughters, who had been brought up in the Christian faith, had much to suffer in the exercise of their religion from the brutality of this step-father, who was a person of high rank in Castile. They were also solicited by many suitors to marry, but resolving to serve God in the state of holy virginity, they obtained leave to go to the house of a devout Christian aunt, where, enjoying an entire liberty as to their devotions, they strove to render themselves every day more agreeable to their divine Spouse. Their fasts were severe, and almost daily, and their devotions were only interrupted by necessary duties or other good works. The town where they lived, named Barbite, or Vervete, (which seems to be that which is now called Castro Viejo, near Najara in Castile, upon the borders of Navarre,) being subject to the Saracens, when the laws of king Abderamene were published against the Christians, they were too remarkable by their birth and the reputation of their zeal and piety not to be soon apprehended by the king’s officers. They appeared before the judge not only undaunted, but with a holy joy painted on their countenances. He employed the most flattering caresses and promises to work them into a compliance, and at length proceeded to threats. When these artifices failed him, he put them into the hands of impious women, hoping these instruments of the devil would be able by their crafty address to insinuate themselves into the hearts of the virgins. But Christ enlightened and protected his spouses, and those wicked women after many trials were obliged to declare to the judge that nothing could conquer their resolution. He therefore condemned them to be beheaded in their prison; which was executed on the 22d of October, 851, or, according to Morales, in 840. Their bodies were buried in the same place: the greatest part of their relics is now kept in the abbey of St. Saviour of Leger, in Navarre. Their festival is celebrated with an extraordinary concourse of people at Huesca in Aragon, and at Bosca, where a portion of their relics is preserved. See St. Eulogius Memoria1,1. 2, c. 7; Ambr. Morales, in schol. ad Eulog. p. 286; Mariana, &c.

OCTOBER 22 — ST. DONATUS, BISHOP OF FIESOLI IN TUSCANY, C

He was a pious and learned Scot, or Irishman, who, going a pilgrim to Rome, was stopped in Tuscany, and by compulsion made bishop of Fiesoli, in 816, which see he governed with admirable sanctity and wisdom. See his life compiled by Francis Callanius, bishop of Fiesoli; also the Roman Martyrology on this day; and Colgan, Act. SS. Hib. p. 237, n. 3.

OCTOBER 22 — ST. MELLO, BISHOP OF ROUEN, C. CALLED IN THE ROMAN MARTYROLOGY, MELANIUS

He is said to have been a native of Great Britain; his zeal for the faith engaged him in the sacred ministry, and God having blessed his labors with wonderful success, he was consecrated first bishop of Rouen in Normandy,* which see he is said to have held forty years. In the primitive ages, the surprising light of the gospel breaking in at once upon minds before clouded with darkness, men were startled at such great and infinitely important truths, and at the wondrous works and dispensations of the divine mercy, and the incomprehensible mysteries of love: their hearts were filled with a contempt and loathing of earthly things, totally disentangled from the world, and perfectly replenished with the spirit of their holy faith, of which, in our dregs of time, so little marks appear in the lives of Christians. Hence those primitive ages produced so many saints. St. Mello died in peace about the beginning of the fourth age; for Avitian, his immediate successor, assisted at the council of Arles in 314. The relics of St. Mello were removed to Pontoise for fear of the Normans, in 880; and remain there in a collegiate church, of which he is titular saint or patron. See F. Pommeraye, Hist. des Archev. de Rouen, p. 44; Usher, Antiqu. Britan. Gallia Christ. Nov. Trigan, &c.

OCTOBER 22 — ST. MARK, BISHOP OF JERUSALEM, C

The apostle St. James, and his brother, St. Simeon, were the two first bishops of Jerusalem. Thirteen bishops who succeeded them were of the Jewish nation: the last, called Judas, seems to have been crowned with martyrdom among the Christians whom Barchokebas massacred in 134. The Jews having received this Barchokebas as their king and messias, and broke into a second rebellion, the emperor Adrian destroyed all the buildings that had been erected at Jerusalem since Titus, and raised a new city near it which he commanded to be called lia Capitolina, which ever since the reign of Constantine the Great, has been honored with the old name of Jerusalem. The Jews being forbid by Adrian to come near the place, only Gentile Christians could dwell there, and Mark was the first bishop chosen from among the Gentiles to govern that church. He was a very learned and holy man, and after he had sat twenty years is said to have died a martyr in 156. See Eus. Hist.1. 4, c. 6; Sulpit. Sever.1. 2; Le Qulen, Or. Chr. t. 3, p. 146; also Usuard and the Roman Martyrology.

OCTOBER 23 — ST. THEODORET, PRIEST AND MARTYR

From his authentic acts mentioned by Sozomen,1. 5, c. 8, and by Theodoret,1. 3, c. 13, published by Mabillon, Vet. Analect. t. 4, p. 127, and by Ruinart, Act. Sinc. p. 592. See Baillet, p. 355.

A. D. 362.

JULIAN, uncle to the emperor Julian, and likewise an apostate, was by his nephew made count or governor of the East, of which district Antioch was the capital. Being informed that in the treasury of the chief church of the Catholics there was a great quantity of gold and silver plate, he was determined to seize it into his own hands, and published an order by which he banished the clergy out of the city. Theodoret, a zealous priest, who had been very active during the reign of Constantius in destroying idols and in building churches and oratories over the relics of martyrs, and who was keeper of the sacred vessels, (not of the great church then in the hands of Euzoius and his Arians,1 but of some other church of the Catholics,) refused to abandon his flock, and continued openly to hold sacred assemblies with prayers and sacrifices. Count Julian commanded him to be apprehended, and brought before him with his hands bound behind his back. Julian charged him with having thrown down the statues of the gods, and built churches in the foregoing reign. Theodoret owned he had built churches upon the tombs of martyrs, and retorted upon the count, that after having known the true God he had abandoned his worship. The count ordered him to be beaten on the soles of his feet, then buffeted on his face, and afterwards tied to four stakes, and stretched with cords and pulleys by his legs and arms; which was done with such violence that his body seemed extended to the length of eight feet. The tyrant jeered him all the time; but the martyr exhorted him to acknowledge the true God, and Jesus Christ his Son, by whom all things were made. Julian ordered that he should be tormented on the rack, and, when the blood was streaming abundantly from his wounds, said to him: “I perceive you do not sufficiently feel your torments.” The martyr replied: “I do not feel them, because God is with me.” Julian caused lighted matches to be applied to his sides. The saint, while his flesh was burning, and the fat was melting in drops, lifted up his eyes to heaven and prayed that God would glorify his name throughout all ages. At these words, the executioners fell on their faces to the ground. The count himself was at first affrighted; but, recovering himself, he bid them again draw near the martyr with their torches. They excused themselves, saying, they saw four angels clothed in white with Theodoret. Julian, in a rage, ordered them to be thrown into the water, and drowned. Theodoret said to them: “Go before, my brethren; I will follow by vanquishing the enemy.” The count asked him who that enemy was. “The devil,” said the martyr, “for whom you fight. Jesus Christ the Saviour of the world, is he who giveth victory.” He then explained how God sent his Word into the world to clothe himself with human flesh in the womb of a virgin, and that this God made man, suffered freely, and by his sufferings, merited for us salvation. The count, in the impotence of his rage, threatened to put him instantly to death. Theodoret declared that was his desire, and said: “You, Julian, shall die in your bed under the sharpest torments; and your master, who hopes to vanquish the Persians, shall be himself vanquished: an unknown hand shall bereave him of life: he shall return no more to the territories of the Romans.” The count dictated a sentence by which he condemned the martyr to be beheaded; which he underwent with joy, in the year 362. This saint is by some called Theodore; at Uzez, in Languedoc, and at Apt, in Provence, (of both which places he is titular saint and principal patron,) Theodoric; but his true name is Theodoret.

On the day of the martyrdom of St. Theodoret, the count, according to an order he had received from the emperor, went and seized the effects of the great church of Antioch, having with him Felix, count of the largesses, or chief treasurer, and Elpidius, count of the private patrimony, that is, intendant of the demesnes, who were also apostates. Felix, as he was viewing the rich and magnificent vessels which the emperors Constantine and Constantius had given to the church, impiously said: “Behold with what rich plate the son of Mary is served!” Count Julian also profaned the sacred vessels in the most outrageous manner,2 and these apostates made them the subject of their blasphemies and banter. Their impieties did not remain long unpunished. Count Julian passed the following night with much disquiet, and the next morning presented to the emperor an inventory of what he had seized, and informed him of what he had done with relation to St. Theodoret. Herein he had no other view than to please that prince. But the emperor told him plainly, that he approved not his putting any Christian to death merely on account of his religion, and complained that this would afford an occasion to the Galileans to write against him, and to make a saint and a martyr of Theodoret. The count, who little expected such a reception, remained greatly confounded. The fear with which he was seized, permitted him not to eat much at the sacrifice, at which he assisted with the emperor, and he retired to his own house much troubled in mind, so that he would take no nourishment. That evening he felt a violent pain in his bowels, and fell into a grievous and unknown disease. Some of the lower parts of his bowels being corrupted, he cast out his excrements by his mouth which had uttered so many blasphemies, and the putrefied parts bred such a quantity of worms that he could not be cleared of them, nor could all the art of physicians give him any relief. They killed a number of the choicest birds, which were sought at a great expense, and applied them to the parts affected in order to draw out the worms; but they crawled the deeper, and penetrated into the live flesh. They got into his stomach: and from time to time came out of his mouth. Philostorgius says, he remained forty days without speech or sense. He then came to himself, and bare testimony of his own impiety, for which he was thus severely punished, and pressed his wife to go and pray for him at church, and to desire the prayers of the Christians. He entreated the emperor to restore to the Christians the churches which he had taken from them, and to cause them to be opened. But he could not obtain from him even that favor, and received only this answer: “It was not I who shut them up; and I will give no orders to have them set open.” The count sent him word, that it was for his sake that he had quitted Christianity, and now perished so miserably. But Julian, without showing the least compassion, or fearing himself the hand of God, sent him this answer: “You have not been faithful to the gods; and it is for that you suffer such torments.” At length the imposthumes, which spread very far, and the worms which gnawed him continually, reduced him to the utmost extremity. He threw them up without ceasing, the three last days of his life, with a stench which he himself could not bear. His nephew Julian lamented him as little when dead as he had pitied him living, and continued to declare, that this calamity befell him because he had not been faithful to the gods.3 Felix and Elpidius came also to miserable ends. The emperor himself, in Persia, when he was wounded in the side by an arrow from an unknown hand, is related in the acts of St. Theodoret to have said, casting with his hand some of his blood towards heaven: “Even here, O Galilan, you pursue me. Satiate yourself with my blood, and glory that you have vanquished me.” He was carried into a neighboring village, where he expired a few hours after, on the 26th of June, 363, as the author of these acts tells us; who, moreover, says: “We were with him in the palace at Antioch, and in Persia.” Theodoret and Sozomen agree with him. Philostorgius says, that Julian addressed the above-mentioned words to the sun, the god of the Persians, and that he died blaspheming his own gods.

With what inexpressible horrors is the sinner seized when he finds himself overtaken by divine vengeance, or in the jaws of death! In his short lived imaginary prosperity, it is his study to forget himself: if herein he unhappily succeeds so far as to arrive at a spiritual insensibility, his alarms will be the more grievous when his soul shall be awakened from her lethargy, and the fooleries which at present amuse her and divert her attention, shall have lost their enchanting power. At least his rage, consternation, and despair will but be the more intolerable for eternity. The servant of God finds in his God a solid comfort in all events, reposing in him a confidence which nothing can shake, and ever rejoicing in his holy will, to which with love and assurance he commits himself in life and death. His omnipotence all things obey, and his infinite goodness and most tender mercy are always open and ready to meet us: his servant never calls to mind or names either of those, or any other attribute of God without feeling an inexpressible interior relish, and sentiment of joy and love. In a filial fear, and sincere compunction for his sins, he ceases not with sweet confidence to invoke his God, his Redeemer, Friend, and Protector, begging that he exert his omnipotence (which is nowhere so wonderfully manifested as in the pardon of sinners) and that he display his eternal and boundless mercy in bringing him to true repentance and salvation, and that he ordain all things with regard to him according to his holy will, and to the greater glory of his adorable name.

OCTOBER 23 — ST. ROMANUS, ARCHBISHOP OF ROUEN, C

He was born of an illustrious and virtuous French family, brought up in the practice of piety, and placed young in the court of Clotaire II., the third French king who was master of the whole monarchy. He was referendary or chancellor to that prince, when, in 626, upon the death of Hidulphus, he was chosen archbishop of Rouen, and compelled to receive episcopal consecration. The remains of idolatry in that diocese excited his zeal; he converted the unbelievers, and destroyed a famous temple of Venus at Rouen, and three others in the diocese dedicated to Mercury, Jupiter, and Apollo. Amongst many miracles which he wrought, it is related that the Seine having overflowed a considerable part of the city, the saint, who happened then to be at the court of Dagobert for certain affairs of his church, upon hearing this melancholy news, made haste to comfort and succor his afflicted flock; and kneeling down to pray on the side of the water with a crucifix in his hand, the water retired gently within the banks of the river.* If the miracles of this holy prelate raise our admiration, the eminent virtues which he practised ought still more to fix our attention. He macerated his body with continual austerities, and after the fatigues of his ministry, passed almost whole nights in prayer. By his indefatigable zeal he banished vice and superstition, and watched over the souls of all his flocks as over his own. He had discharged all the duties of an apostolic pastor thirteen years, when God made known to him that the time was come in which he was to be called to receive his recompense. Romanus, whose whole life had been an earnest preparation for that hour, received the summons with joy; and redoubling the fervor of his penance, prayers, and other good works, disposed himself for that happy moment, in which he entered the joy of his Lord on the 23d of October, 639. St. Owen was his successor Romanus was interred in the church of St. Godard, one of his predecessors; but, in the eleventh age, his body was removed into our Lady’s, which is the cathedral. The first shrine having been impoverished, the archbishop Rotrou, in 1179, caused a very rich one to be made, which is known by the name of La fierta-saint-Romain. See Le Cointe, Ann. Franc. au. 626, 635, 638, and the Life of St. Romanus written in Leonine verses, by a clergyman or monk of Rouen, before the reign of Charlemagne, brought to light by the Maurist monks Martenne and Durand, in 1717. (Thesaur. Nov. Anecdot. p. 1651.) This poem was compiled from a life of this saint which was more ancient, (Rivet, Hist. Lit. t. 4, p. 73, et Contin. t. 8, p. 376.) St. Romanus’s life was again composed by Gerard, dean of St. Medard’s at Soissons in the tenth age; also by Fulbert, the learned archdeacon of Rouen, in 1091, (not by the second Fulbert, who flourished in 1130.) This last piece was published by Rigaltius with dissertations and notes.

OCTOBER 23 — ST. JOHN CAPISTRAN, OR, OF CAPISTRAN, C

John, the father of this saint, was a gentleman of Anjou, who going to serve in the army in the kingdom of Naples, settled at Aquila, and soon after at Capistran, a neighboring town, where he took a young lady to wife. Our saint was born at Capistran in 1385, and after learning Latin in his own country, studied the civil and canon law at Perugia, in which faculty he commenced doctor with great applause. By his fortune and abilities he soon made a figure in that city, and one of the principal men of the town gave him his daughter in marriage. In 1413, a grievous dissension fell out between the city of Perugia and Ladislas, king of Naples. John used his best endeavors to bring his fellow-citizens to a peace, and carried on a negotiation for some time with success, for which he undertook some journeys. Those who were more violent in this quarrel, taking it into their heads that he betrayed his citizens in favor of his former master, a party belonging to one of these factions, seized his person on the road, and confined him in the castle of Bruffa, five miles from Perugia. In this prison he had much to suffer, being loaded with chains, and being allowed no other subsistence than bread and water. Seeing himself here abandoned by king Ladislas himself, and from his own feeling experience meditating on the inconstancy of human things, and the treachery and falsehood of a vain and sinful world, he began seriously to enter into himself, and to become a new man. His lady dying in that interval of time, he resolved to embrace a penitential state in the holy order of St. Francis. Impatient of delays, he begged to be immediately admitted; but the guardian refused to send him the habit while he continued a prisoner. He therefore cut his clothes into the shape of a religious habit, and his hair so as to form a tonsure. Obtaining his liberty shortly after, he went to Capistran, and selling his estate, with part of the price he paid his ransom, and the remaining part he distributed among the poor. Then returning to Perugia, he took the habit in the convent of the Franciscans De Monte at Perugia, in 1415, being thirty years old. The guardian, who understood how full he had been of a worldly spirit, the more effectually to try his vocation, and to extinguish in him secular pride and self-love, ordered him to ride on an ass in a ridiculous dress through all the streets of Perugia, with a paper cap on his head, on which many grievous sins were written in capital letters. This must appear a severe trial to a man of birth and reputation: but such was the fervor of the saint in his penitential course, that it seemed to cost him nothing. He was moreover twice expelled the convent without any reason, and admitted again on very hard conditions.

The perfect spirit with which he underwent all humiliations and austerities that were imposed upon him, gave him in a short time so complete a victory over himself, that he never afterwards found any difficulty in the severest trials. Such was his ardor in the practice of penance, that to those enjoined by his rule or by obedience he added the most austere voluntary mortifications. To prepare himself for the first communion, which he made after his general confession upon taking the habit, he spent three days in prayer and tears, without taking any nourishment. From the time that he made his religious profession he ate only once a day, except in long fatiguing journeys, when he took an exceeding small collation at night. For thirty-six years he never tasted flesh, except a very little out of obedience when he was sick. Pope Eugenius IV. having commanded him in his old age to eat a little flesh meat, he obeyed, but look so very small a quantity that his holiness left him at liberty to use his own discretion. He slept on the boards, and took only three or sometimes four hours a-night for his rest, employing the remaining part in prayer and contemplation; which exercises he for many years seemed never to interrupt but by preaching to the people, or short necessary repose. It would be too long to relate the admirable instances which are recorded of his perfect mortification, obedience, and humility, and the most profound sentiment of contempt of himself which made him delight in the meanest employs. His spirit of compunction and gift of tears astonished and strongly affected those that conversed with him. He said mass every day with the most edifying devotion. By his zeal and ardent desire of the glory of God and the salvation of souls he seemed, in his actions and preaching, another St. Paul. Wherever he came, by his powerful words, or rather by that wonderful spirit of zeal and devotion with which he spoke, he beat down the pride and obstinacy of hardened sinners, filled their souls with holy fear, and softened their hearts into compunction. At the end of a sermon which he made at Aquila against the vanity, dangers, and frequent sins of the world with regard to dress, and amusements, the ladies brought together a great quantity of fine handkerchiefs, aprons, artificial heads of hair,* perfumes, cards, dice, and other such things, and made of them a great bonfire. The same was done at Nuremberg, Leipsic, Frankfort, Magdeburg, and several other places. He had a singular talent at reconciling the most inveterate enemies, and inducing them from their hearts to forgive one another. He made peace between Alphonsus of Aragon and the city of Aquila; also between the families of Oronesi and Lanzieni, and between many cities which were at variance, and he appeased he most violent seditions.

St. Bernardin of Sienna established a reformation of the Franciscan order and was appointed by the general, William of Cassal, in 1437, and confirmed by pope Eugenius IV., in 1438, the first vicar-general of the Observantin or Reformed Franciscans in Italy, in which office he continued six years from his nomination by his general in 1437, and five from his confirmation by the pope. St. John was twice chosen to the same office, each time for the space of three years, and exceedingly promoted this reformation. By one sermon which he preached on death and the last judgment in Bohemia, one hundred and twenty young men were so moved, as with great fervor to devote themselves to God in different religious orders, of which sixty embraced his penitential institute. He inherited St. Bernardin’s singular devotion to the holy name of Jesus, and to the glorious Mother of God. The marquisate of Ancona, Apulia, Calabria, and Naples, were the first theatres of his zeal; he afterwards preached frequently in Lombardy and the Venetian territories; then in Bavaria, Austria, Carinthia, Moravia, Bohemia, Poland, and Hungary.

St. John was often employed in important commissions by the popes Martin V., Eugenius IV., Nicholas V., and Calixtus III. The council of Basil, which had been called by Martin V., assembled in July, 1431, under Eugenius IV., and was in the first sessions approved by him, till this pope, alleging that the place was at too great a distance to suit the convenience of the Greek emperor and the oriental prelates, removed it to Ferrara, in 1437.* Those prelates who obstinately opposed this removal proceeded at length to an open schism. The pope employed St. John in several important commissions to stem this evil, and many great personages, particularly Philip duke of Burgundy, to whom his holiness sent the saint for that purpose, were withdrawn by his exhortations from the schism. The saint was sent nuncio by the same pope to the duke of Milan, to Charles VII. king of France, and into Sicily, and his endeavors met everywhere with the desired success. He was one of the theologians employed by his holiness at the council of Florence in promoting the union of the Greeks. Certain vagabond friars called Frerots and Beroches, the remains of the Fratricelli, whose heresy was condemned by Boniface VIII. and John XXII. in the beginning of the fourteenth century, filled the marquisate of Ancona with disturbances, till St. John, having received a commission from Eugenius to preach against them, entirely cleared Italy of that pestilential seditious sect. Many parts of Germany being at that time full of disorders and confusion, the emperor Frederic III., neas Sylvius, legate and bishop of Sienna, (afterwards pope Pius II.) and Albert, duke of Austria, the emperor’s brother, solicited pope Nicholas that St. John might be sent into those countries, that the force of his example, zeal, and eloquence might give a check to the overflowings of vice and heresy. St. John, therefore, was invested with the authority of apostolic legate, and, attended with one colleague, travelled by Venice and Friuli into Carinthia, Carniola, Tirol, Bavaria, and Austria, preaching everywhere with incredible fruit. His sermons he delivered in Latin, and they were afterwards explained by an interpreter to those who did not understand that language. The like blessings attended his labors in Moravia, Bohemia, Poland, and Hungary.† He converted in Moravia four thousand Hussites. Rockysana, the head of that party in Bohemia, invited him to a conference; but king Pogebrac, fearing the consequences of such a disputation, would not allow him the liberty. St. John was mortified at this disappointment, and wrote a book against Rockysana.* It would be too long to follow the saint in his progresses through the provinces above mentioned; also, through Brandenburg, Poland, and Hungary, or to mention the honors with which he was received by the electors and other princes, especially the dukes of Bavaria and Saxony, the marquis of Brandenburg, and the emperor himself, who often assisted at his sermons.

Mahomet II. having taken Constantinople by assault on the 26th of May, 1453, pope Nicholas V. sent a commission to St. John to exhort the Christian princes to take up arms to check the progress of the common enemy; which the saint executed with great success in several assemblies of princes of the empire. Nicholas V. dying in 1455, and Calixtus III. succeeding in the pontificate, St. John returned to Rome to receive the orders of the new pope. His holiness appeared more earnest than his predecessor had been to engage the Christians to undertake a general expedition against the infidels, who were carrying their victorious arms into the heart of Europe,† and he sent preachers to different parts to excite the princes to this war. St. John returned with ample powers to preach up the crusade in Germany and Hungary. Mahomet, after the taking of Constantinople, counted the western empire as already his own, and looked upon himself as master of all Christendom. Not doubting but he should soon plant the Ottoman crescent in the cities of Vienna and Rome, he marched his numerous victorious army into Hungary, and sat down before Belgrade on the 3d of June, in 1456. King Ladislas V. fled to Vienna; but John Corvin, commonly called Hunniades,1 the brave Vayvode of Transylvania, and governor of Hungary, who had so often beat the Turks under Amurath, in Hungary, Transylvania, and Thrace, assembled his forces with all possible expedition, and sent to entreat St. John Capistran to hasten the march of forty thousand crusards, whom he had raised, to his assistance. The Turks covered the Danube with a fleet of two hundred ships of a particular construction for the navigation of that river, and had embarked on them an army of resolute veteran troops. Hunniades, with a fleet of a hundred and sixty saics, or small vessels, which were much lighter and much better commanded than those of the infidels entirely discomfited them after a most obstinate and bloody engagement, and entered the town, which stands upon the confluence of the Danube and the Save. St. John Capistran attended him, animating the soldiers in the midst of all dangers, holding in his hands the cross that he had received from the pope. The Turks made several furious assaults upon the town, notwithstanding the slaughter of their bravest men was so great that they marched upon heaps of their own dead to the very walls. Thus at length they got into the town, and the Christians gave way before them. All things were despaired of, when St. John, appearing in the foremost rank, with his cross in his hand, encouraged the soldiers to conquer or die martyrs, often crying, with a loud voice, “Victory, Jesus, victory.” The Christians, thus animated, cut the infidels in pieces, threw them down from the ramparts, and drove them out of the town. In the sallies which the Christians made, they slew the Turks like sheep, and on every side repulsed their most determined and experienced troops. Mahomet, flushed with conquests and confidence of victory, became furious, and omitted nothing after every check to reanimate his troops, till at length, having lost his best officers and soldiers, and his own dearest friends, with sixty thousand soldiers, being himself wounded slightly in the thigh, and seeing the shattered remains of his great and haughty army, which he thought invincible, so dispirited, that he was no longer able, either by promises or severity, to make them face the Christians, shamefully raised the siege on the 6th of August; and, leaving behind him all his heavy artillery and baggage, and the greatest part of his booty, retreated with precipitation. The next year he turned his arms, first against Trebizonde, and afterwards against the Persians; though, some time after, he again fell upon the West, when the brave Hunniades was no more. The glory of this victory is ascribed by historians not less to the zeal, courage, and activity of St. John Capistran than to the conduct of Hunniades. This great prince, who possessed the virtues of a Christian and all the qualifications of an accomplished general, was admirable for his foresight and precautions against all events, for his consummate knowledge of all the branches of the complicated art of war, for his undaunted courage in dangers, his alacrity, ardor, and cool presence of mind in action, and his skill in seizing the happy moments in battle upon which the greatest victories depend; which skill is so much the result of genius, improved by experience and deep reflection, that it may be called a kind of instinct, no less than the skill of able practitioners in physic in discerning the fatal, critical moments for applying powerful remedies in dangerous diseases, for strengthening nature in her efforts, or in checking, dissolving, correcting, or expelling morbid humors, &c.

It is not, however, detracting in the least from the glory of this Christian hero, to give equal praise to the zeal, activity, address, and courage of a religious man, in whose authority, prudence, and sanctity, the soldiers placed an entire confidence. After all, it was the finger of the Almighty which overthrew phalanxes that seemed invincible. God employs second causes, but in them his mercy and power are not less to be adored. The divine assistance in this happy deliverance was, doubtless obtained by the prayers of the servants of God, especially of St. John Capistran, whose name was then famous for many miracles which had been wrought by him. The brave Hunniades was taken ill of a fever, which he contracted by the fatigues of this campaign, and died at Zemplin on the 10th of September the same year. When he lay dying, he would absolutely rise, and go to church to receive the viaticum, saying he could not bear the thoughts that the King of kings should come to him. St. John Capistran never quitted him during his last sickness, and pronounced his funeral sermon. At the news of his death pope Calixtus III. wept bitterly, and all Christendom was in tears: Mahomet himself grieved, saying, in his boast, there was no longer any prince left in the world whom it would be either an honor or a pleasure to vanquish. St. John did not long survive him being seized with a fever, incurable dysentery, and bloody flux, with the gravel. While he lay sick in his convent at Willech, or Vilak, near Sirmich, in the diocese of Five-Churches, he was honored with the visits of king Ladislas, the queen, and many princes and noblemen. Under his pains he never ceased praising and glorifying God; frequently confessed his sins, and received the viaticum and extreme unction with many tears. He often repeated that God treated him with too great lenity, and would never be laid on a bed, but on the hard floor. In this posture he calmly expired on the 23d of October, in 1456, being seventy-one years old. When Willech fell into the hands of the Turks, his body was removed by the friars to another town, where the Lutherans afterwards (having plundered the shrine) threw it into the Danube. The relics were taken out of the river at Illoc, and are preserved there to this day. Pope Leo X. granted an office in his honor, to be celebrated at Capistran, and in the diocese of Sulmona. The saint was canonized by Alexander VIII. in 1690, and Benedict XIII. published the bull of his canonization in 1724. See his life compiled at length by F. Christopher of Variso, a Milanese, a disciple and companion; and again by F. Gabriel of Verena, another disciple. See also the letter of his religious companions containing a relation of his death, to Card. neas Sylvius; Bonfinius, Dec 3,1. 7; neas Sylvius, Hist. Boem c. 65, and in Deser. Europ, c. 8, Gonzaga in Austriac et Argentina Provincia, p. 451; F. Henry Sedulius, in Historia Seraphica, seu S. Francisci et aliorum hujus ordinis qui relati sunt inter sanctos, fol. Antv. 1611; and F. Wadding’s Annals, in eight vols. Fresnoy mistakes when he says Wadding’s catalogue of writers makes his eighth volume, for there is an eighth volume of his annals printed at Rome, in 1654, after the others, very scarce before the new Roman edition.

OCTOBER 23 — ST. IGNATIUS, PATRIARCH OF CONSTANTINOPLE, C

The origin of the Greek schism, commenced by the usurper Photius, renders the life of this holy prelate an interesting part of the history of the church. His birth was most illustrious; for his mother Procopia was daughter to the emperor Nicephorus, and his father Michael, surname! Rangab, was at first curopolates, or master of the household to the emperor; and on the death of his father-in-law Nicephores, who was slain by the Bulgarians, was himself raised to the imperial throne. His piety and mildness promised the greatest happiness both to the church and state; but this was a blessing of which the sins of the people rendered them unworthy. Leo the Armenian, the impious and barbarous general of the army, revolting, the good emperor, to avert the calamity of a civil war, resigned to him the diadem after a reign of only one year and nine months. He had then two sons living, and two daughters, with whom he and his wife retired into the isle of the Princesses, where they all embraced a monastic state. Theophilactus, the elder son, took the name of Eustratus; and the younger, who is the saint who is here spoken of, changed his former name, Nicetas, into that of Ignatius: he was at that time fourteen years of age. The father was called in religion Athanasius, and survived thirty-two years—to 845. The new emperor, to secure to himself the dignity which he had got by injustice and treachery, parted all his family, banishing them into several islands, and keeping them under a strict guard; and the two sons he made eunuchs, that they might be rendered incapable of raising issue to their family. During the reigns of this Leo, of Michael Balbus, or the Stammerer, and Theophilus, they enjoyed a sweet tranquillity, which they consecrated with great fidelity to the exercises of devotion and penance; in which, by their fervor and love, calm resignation to all the appointments of heaven, and by the unction of divine grace, they found more solid pleasure than a court could afford; and by curbing the activity of their desires, and by the regulation of their passions, enjoyed an interior peace which the whole world could not take from them. Ignatius, indeed, underwent a most severe trial, being placed in a monastery which was governed by a furious Iconoclast abbot, from whom he had daily much to suffer; but this very circumstance became to him a spur to watchfulness, and a continual exercise of patience and other Christian virtues, by which he learned daily to die more perfectly to himself. For it is not the tranquillity of monastic solitude, nor a distance from the busy scenes of the world, but the mastery over a man’s domestic passions, and the government of his own heart, which is the source of that peace of mind which invites the Holy Ghost into a soul, and is the greatest blessing on this side heaven. So conspicuous was the virtue of our saint, that, upon the death of his persecutor, he was unanimously chosen abbot. The prudence and meekness, zeal and charity with which he governed this house, and instructed and walked before his brethren in the paths of evangelical perfection, gained him universal love and veneration; and he founded three new monasteries in three little islands, and one, called St. Michael’s, on the continent. In 842, the empress Theodora, by the death of her husband, Theophilus, became regent for her son Michael III., a minor, restored holy images, expelled John the Iconoclast, patriarch of Constantinople, and raised Saint Methodius to that dignity. After his death, in 846, St. Ignatius, who then led a monastic life in the islands of Hiatres and Terebinthus, which he had peopled with monks, was dragged out of his secure harbor into the stormy ocean of the world, and made patriarch.

His spirit of mortification, his humility, charity, intrepidity, zeal, and other virtues, shone forth in this public station with bright lustre; but the generous liberty which he used in opposing vice, and reprimanding public offenders, drew on him severe persecutions, the ordinary portion of the elect. Bardas Csar, brother to the empress, had a great share in the government, for which his great abilities would have qualified him if the corruption of his heart had not. rendered him unfit to be a member of civil society, much more to be intrusted with the care of the republic, and the protection of the church and people. For eloquence, he was superior to most of his contemporaries: he was well versed in all profane literature, and a great lover and promoter of learning; but withal false, crafty, cruel, and so scandalously debauched in his morals, that he put away his lawful wife, and incestuously took his own daughter-in-law to his bed, with whom he was fallen desperately in love. The patriarch could not bear such enormous scandals, and tenderly exhorted this hardened sinner to hare pity on his own soul. But the miserable man was so far from giving ear to his charitable admonitions, as impudently to present himself to receive the holy communion in the great church on the feast of the Epiphany. The patriarch refused to admit him to the holy table, and declared him excommunicated. Bardas, stung with resentment, threatened to stab him; but the prelate remained firm, and set before his eyes the divine judgments. Bardas took an opportunity to seek revenge. The young emperor being of a depraved heart, suffered himself to be carried headlong down the precipice of vice; so that it was hot hard for the wicked uncle, by flattering his passions, to gain an ascendant over him. Bardas, who for some time had made it his whole study to ruin the pastor of his soul, set himself first to remove his mother, who was the protectress of St. Ignatius, and moreover stood in his way, and often checked his ambitious and wicked designs. He therefore persuaded his nephew Michael, that it being time for him now to reign by himself, he ought to send away his mother and his sisters into some monastery. The unnatural and ungrateful son relished this advice, that he might be more at liberty to follow his vicious inclinations, sent for the patriarch, and ordered him to cut off the hair of his mother and three sisters as a mark of their engaging in a monastic life. His refusal to commit such an unjust and irreligious act of violence was represented by Bardas in the most odious colors, and the holy patriarch was charged with fomenting rebellions. Michael, in the mean time, caused his mother and sisters to be shaved, and shut up in a monastery; and, on the 23d of November, by his order, St. Ignatius, when he had been patriarch eleven years, was driven from his see by Bardas, and banished to the isle of Terebinthus, where one of his monasteries stood. All means were used to extort from him a resignation of his dignity; but he refused by such an act to deliver up his flock to wolves; nor could his constancy be moved by artifices, persuasions, buffets, chains, or dungeons. At last, however, Bardas declared Photius, the eunuch, patriarch, without so much as the formality of an election. This extraordinary man was of high birth, nephew to the patriarch Tarasius, and nearly related to the emperor and to Bardas Csar. He was a prodigy of genius and learning, being well skilled in all the profane arts, and not altogether unacquainted with ecclesiastical matters, in which also, by application after his promotion, he acquired great knowledge. So passionately fond was he of books, that he often spent whole nights at his studies. But he was a mere layman, and had two considerable employments at court, being Protospatharius and Protosecretis, that is master of the horse and chief secretary to the emperor. His great qualifications were debased by a consummate depravity of soul; for he was the most cunning and deceitful of men, and always ready to sacrifice everything to an unbounded ambition. He was also a schismatic, and adhered to Gregory Abestas, bishop of Syracuse, in Sicily, who had raised a faction against St. Ignatius, from the time of his promotion to the patriarchate. The saint had endeavored to reclaim this prelate, sparing neither words nor good turns, but in vain; so that at length in a council, in 854, he condemned and deposed him for his crimes. Photius continued to protect him, and being nominated patriarch by Bardas was ordained bishop in six days: on the first, he was made a monk; on the second, reader; on the third, subdeacon; on the fourth, deacon; on the fifth, priest; and on the sixth, which was Christmas-day, patriarch. This was done in the year 858.

The election of Photius having been made by Bardas alone, notoriously against the canons, no bishop could be prevailed upon to ordain him till he had gained some of them by promising to renounce the schism, which he had abetted, to embrace the communion of Ignatius, to acknowledge him as lawful patriarch, to honor him as his father, and to do nothing without his consent. Yet in less than two months after his ordination, in contempt of his oaths, he persecuted most outrageously all the clergy that adhered to Ignatius, and caused several to be scourged or otherwise tormented. In order to destroy Ignatius, he persuaded Bardas, and, through his means, the emperor, to commence an information against him as having secretly conspired against the state. Commissioners were sent to the isle of Terebinthus, and the saint’s servants put to the question to compel them to accuse their master; but nothing could be extorted from them. However, the sain was conveyed to the island Hieria, where a goat-house was his prison thence he was removed to Prometa, a suburb near Constantinople, where two of his teeth were knocked out by a blow given him by a captain of the guards, and he was confined in a narrow dungeon with his feet put in the stocks, and fastened to two iron bars. Several bishops of the province of Constantinople assembled in the church of peace in that city, and excommunicated Photius. On the other side, Photius, supported by Bardas, in a council, pronounced a sentence of deposition and excommunication against Ignatius, who, in August, 859, with many of his adherents, was put on board a vessel, loaded with chains, and sent to Mitylene, in the isle of Lesbos. Photius sent messengers with a letter to pope Nicholas I. in which he signified that Ignatius had resigned his see by reason of his age and craziness, and had withdrawn into a monastery, where he lived in great esteem with the princes and people; that himself had been chosen by the metropolitans, and compelled by the emperor to take upon him that dreadful burden, which he hypocritically lamented; but begged the pope to send two legates to ratify these proceedings, and condemn the Iconoclasts.1 The emperor also sent an embassy, consisting of a patrician and four bishops, on the same errand, with rich presents to the church of St. Peter. The pope received no messengers from Ignatius, whose enemies did not suffer him to send any. He therefore answered these letters very cautiously, and sent two legates to Constantinople, Rodoald, bishop of Porto, and Zachary, bishop of Anagnia, with orders to decide in council the questions concerning holy images, according to the definitions of the seventh general council. But as to the affair of Ignatius and Photius, the legates had orders only to take informations, and to send them to the pope. In his answer to the emperor, he complains that Ignatius had been deposed without consulting the holy see, and that a layman had been chosen against, the canons. In that to Photius he expresses his joy to find his confession of faith orthodox; but takes notice of the irregularities committed in his election. In the mean time Ignatius was brought back from Mitylene to the isle of Terebinthus, about the time that his monasteries with the neighboring isles were all plundered, and twenty-three of his domestics massacred by a fleet of a Scythian nation, called Rossi, or Russians. The pope’s two legates being arrived at Constantinople, Photius and the emperor found means to gain them after they had long resisted.

A synod, therefore, was held at Constantinople in 861, in which, the legates prevaricating and exceeding their power and commission, St. Ignatius was unjustly deposed, with much harsh and tyrannical usage, seventy-two false witnesses having been heard against him, who alleged that his election had not been canonica1.2 After this, Photius caused the saint to be shut up in the sepulchre of Constantine Copronymus, which was in the same church where the council had been held: here the prisoner was most cruelly beaten and tormented, kept for a fortnight always standing, and a whole week without meat or sleep. In the weak condition to which he was reduced, Theodorus, one of the three ruffians that tormented him, in order to compel him to sign his own condemnation, and the resignation of his see, took his hand by force, and made him sign a cross upon a paper which he held. This he carried to Photius, who caused an act of his renunciation to be written over it. This paper Photius delivered to the emperor, who thereupon sent an order that Ignatius should be released, and suffered to retire to the palace of Posa, his mother’s house, where he enjoyed a little respite, and had an opportunity of drawing up a petition to the pope. It was signed by ten metropolitans, fifteen bishops, and an infinite number of priests and monks Theognostus, a monk archimandrite of Rome, and abbot at Constantinople, was the bearer, and informed the pope of all that had passed.

Photius, not thinking himself yet secure, advised the emperor to cause Ignatius to read his condemnation in the Ambo or pulpit of the church of the apostles; then to have his eyes pulled out, and his hand cut off. On Whit-Sunday, Ignatius saw his house on a sudden encompassed with soldiers; and made his escape only by putting on the poor secular clothes of a slave, and carrying a great pole upon his shoulders, to which two baskets were hung. In this disguise he went out in the night-time, being taken by the guards for a porter. He walked weeping, and lived a long time, sometimes in one island, sometimes in another; often changing his habitation, and concealing himself in caves, mountains, and desert places, where he subsisted on alms, being reduced to beg, though he was patriarch, and the son of an emperor. Photius and the emperor had caused strict search to be everywhere made for him, and the Drongarius, or admiral of the fleet, was sent with six light vessels in quest of him. All the islands in the Archipelago, and all the coasts were narrowly searched: Ignatius was often met by the soldiers, but was so disguised as never to be known. The Drongarius had orders to kill him upon the spot wherever he should be found. A terrible earthquake, which shook Constantinople for forty days together, terrified the citizens, who cried out that it was a just punishment for the persecution Ignatius suffered. The emperor and Bardas were both alarmed, and both swore publicly, and caused it to be proclaimed that no harm should be done to Ignatius, and that he might with safety return to his own monastery; which he did. The pope, after the return of his legates, and after he had received the acts of the pretended council, and the informations that were sent him, expressed great affliction for the prevarication of his legates, and disowned what they had done, declaring he gave them no commission for the deposition of Ignatius, or for the promotion of Photius.3 In his answers to the emperor and Photius he strongly shows that Ignatius was the only rightful patriarch, and that Photius’s election was every way irregular, nor does he address him otherwise than as a layman. In that to the emperor he says:4 “We have in our hands your letters, as well to Leo our predecessor as to us, whereby you gave testimony to the virtue of Ignatius, and the regularity of his ordination; and now you allege his having usurped the see by the secular power,” &c. At the same time the pope sent a third letter, directed to all the faithful in the East, wherein he condemned the prevarication of his legates who had acted against his orders; and, directing his words to the three patriarchs of Alexandria, Antioch, and Jerusalem, to the metropolitans and bishops, he says: “We enjoin and order you, by the apostolical authority, to have the same sentiments with us in regard to Ignatius and Photius; and to publish this letter in your dioceses, that it may be known to all men.”5 Photius, than whom there never was a more daring impostor, suppressed the letter he had received, and forged another in the name of the pope, as if of a later date than the rest, in which he intimates the pope to be in his interest, and to charge Ignatius with having imposed upon him. Eustratus, who pretended to have brought this letter from Rome, was convicted of the cheat, and condemned by Bardas himself to be severely scourged, notwithstanding the pressing solicitations of Photius, who, for his recompense, procured him an honorable and lucrative employment. It was afterwards affirmed that Photius had contrived this whole cheat. All this while he connived at the impiety of the emperor, who ridiculed the sacred ceremonies of religion, and mimicked them with the companions of his parties of debauchery. Photius assiduously made his court to the emperor, and ate at his table with these sacrilegious jesters. One of these buffoons, called Theophilus, used to act the part of the patriarch, and others that of the rest of the clergy, in a ludicrous manner, which was condemned in the eighth general council. The emperor rallied Photius for his want of religion, saying: “Theophilus (the buffoon) is my patriarch, Photius is Csar’s patriarch, and Ignatius is the patriarch of the Christians.” The two wicked princes were soon after cut off like Baltassar. Bardas was put to death by the emperor for conspiring against his life, in 866.

Photius having in vain courted the pope to draw him to his side, resolved at length to be revenged of him, and having exasperated the impious emperor against him, with his concurrence, held a council at Constantinople in the same year, 866, in which he presumed to pronounce sentence of deposition and excommunication against pope Nicholas: this was the first origin of the Greek schism. Photius had only twenty-one bishops who joined him in this council; but forged false acts as if it had been œcumenical, adding false subscriptions, as of deputies from the other three eastern patriarchs, and of about a thousand bishops. What much exasperated Photius was, that the Bulgarians, having been lately converted to the faith, the legates which pope Nicholas had sent among them rejected the chrism which Photius had consecrated and sent thither, and they made a new chrism to confirm as well the great men as the people of that nation. Photius, therefore, resolved to keep no longer any measures with the pope, but held this pretended synod against him; and when it was over, drew up a circular letter which he sent to the other oriental patriarchs and chief bishops, in which he trumped up a general charge against the Latin church.* But he soon after lost both his protector and his usurped dignity. The emperor who had slain his uncle Bardas on the 29th of April, in 866, immediately adopted and declared master of the offices, Basil the Macedonian, a soldier of fortune who had a great share in the death of Bardas. And as Michael wanted both application and capacity for business, and could not do without another to govern for him, he soon after associated this Basil with him in the empire, and had him crowned in the church of St. Sophia on the 26th of May. But seeking soon after to depose him again, he was murdered by his guards while he was drunk, in September, 867.

The emperor Basil no sooner saw himself at liberty and master of affairs, but the very next day he banished Photius into the isle of Scepe, and honorably restored St. Ignatius; who was conducted with great pomp to the imperial city, and reinstated in the patriarchal chair on the 3d of November, in 867, after a banishment of nine years. If pride makes men haughty and insolent, or fond of themselves and of the esteem of others in prosperity, it leaves them pusillanimous, abject, and fawning in adversity. But he who is master of himself and his passions, is the same in all vicissitudes; his heart, under the steady influence of reason and virtue, is neither darkened with clouds, nor agitated by violent storms, but preserves itself in an even state of tranquillity by a noble firmness which it derives from an interior sentiment of religion. Such was the character of this saint, who appeared not less magnanimous in the greatest disgraces, than humble amid honors and applause. Having recovered his dignity, he solicited the emperor and the pope that a general council might be called. This was held at Constantinople in the church of St. Sophia, in 869, and is called the eighth. The legates of pope Adrian II., who had succeeded Nicholas in 867, presided. The council held by Photius was here condemned: that schismatic himself after a long hearing, was excommunicated, and those who had adhered to him were, upon confessing their fault, admitted to penance. Nicetas relates, that among Photius’s archives, which the emperor had seized, were found in sacks sealed with lead, two books in purple covers, adorned with gold and silver, the inside being curiously written in fair characters, with marks that they might appear ancient when they should be found by posterity. In the one, were contained forged acts of a pretended council against Ignatius, (which never was held:) in the other was a synodal letter against pope Nicholas: both full of outrageous slanders and invectives. Photius was banished by the emperor; but, eight years after this, by drawing a pedigree of that prince from Tiridates, king of Armenia, and certain old Thracian heroes, he pleased his vanity, and prevailed to be allowed to return to Constantinople, and to abide in his palace of Magnaurus. St. Ignatius applied himself to his pastoral functions with so much prudence, charity, zeal, and vigilance, as showed his sanctity and experience were much improved by his sufferings. He died on the 23d of October, in the year 878, being near fourscore years old. His body, enclosed in a wooden coffin, was carried to the church of St. Sophia, where the usual prayers were offered for his soul. It was then removed to St. Mennas’s, where two women possessed by devils were delivered in the presence of these relics. They were deposited in the church of St. Michael, which he had built near the Bosphorus, not far from the city. Both Latins and Greeks keep his festival on the day of his death. See his life written by the elegant Nicetas David, bishop of Paphlagonia, afterwards of Constantinople, who knew him; also Zonaras, Cedrenus, the eighth tome of the councils, Nat. Alexander, diss. 4, in sc. 9, et 10; Le Qulen, Or. Chr. in Ign. et Phot. t. 1, p. 246; and especially Baronius, with notes and amendments, in the new edition published by Veturini at Lucca.

OCTOBER 23 — ST. SEVERIN, ARCHBISHOP OF COLOGNE, C

His name is famous in the annals of the church. By his learning and zeal, not only his own diocese, but also that of Tongres, was purged from the venom of the Arian heresy, about the year 390. St. Gregory of Tours tells us that St. Severin knew by revelation the death and glory of St. Martin, at the time of his departure. He led an angelical life, and died soon after St. Martin, in 400. His life written by Fortunatus, mentioned by St. Gregory of Tours, is the best. See St. Greg. of Tours, De Glor. Conf. c. 45, et I. 8 Mirac. S. Martin, c. 4.

OCTOBER 23 — ANOTHER ST. SEVERIN, OR SURIN, B

Is honored this day as patron of Bordeaux, which see he governed under St. Amand. He is said by some to have been the same with the foregoing archbishop of Cologne, who, resigning that see, retired to Bordeaux, his native city; but others distinguish them, and think the latter came to Bordeaux from some part of the East. See S. Greg. of Tours, loc. cit. Baillet; and Gall. Christ. Nova, t. 2, p. 789.

OCTOBER 24 — SAINT PROCLUS, CONFESSOR ARCHBISHOP OF CONSTANTINOPLE

From his writings, Liberaius, c. 10, Socrates, t. 7, c. 28, 41, 45; Chron. Paschal. Marceilla in chron. &c. See Orsi, t. 13 and 14.

A. D. 447.

ST. PROCLUS was a native of Constantinople, and was very young when he was made a reader of that church. The service of the church did not hinder him from closely following his studies, and he was some time a disciple of St. Chrysostom, and his secretary. Atticus ordained him deacon and priest. After his death, many pitched upon Proclus as the fittest person to be placed in that important see; but Sisinnius was chosen, who ordained Proclus archbishop of Cyzicus, metropolis of the Hellespont. The inhabitants of that city being unwilling to acknowledge the jurisdiction of the bishop of Constantinople, refused to receive him, and chose Dalmatius, a monk. Proclus, therefore, continued at Constantinople, where he got a great reputation by his preaching. Upon the demise of Sisinnius, in 427, many again cast their eyes upon him as the most worthy of that dignity; but others alleged that he had been chosen bishop of another see, and that translations were forbid by the canons. Nestorius, who was raised to that dignity, advanced his errors at first covertly, but at length openly. St. Proclus courageously maintained the truth against him, and, in 429, preached a sermon (which is the first among his printed homilies) to show that the Blessed Virgin ought to be styled the Mother of God. Nestorius, who was present, publicly contradicted him in the church. When that heresiarch was deposed in 431, Maximian was chosen to succeed him, those that were for St. Proclus being overruled by the above-mentioned exception; but, after Maximian’s death, in 434, this saint, who had never been able to take possession of the see of Cyzicus, was promoted to that of Constantinople. The mildness with which he treated even the most obstinate among the Nestorians, Arians, and other heretics, was a distinguishing part of his character though he strenuously supported the Catholic faith, and kept a correspondence, and lived in close union and friendship with the pope, St. Cyril of Alexandria, and John of Antioch. The Armenian bishops consulted him about the doctrine and writings of Theodorus, bishop of Mopsuestia, who was then dead, and whose name was in reputation in those parts. St. Proclus answered them in 436, by his tome to the Armenians, which is the most famous of his writings. In it he condemned the doctrine mentioned as savoring of Nestorianism, and expounded the article of the incarnation; without naming Theodorus, who was dead in the communion of the church, he exhorted them to adhere to the doctrine of St. Basil and St. Gregory Nazianzen, whose names and works were in particular veneration among them. Others carried on this contest with greater warmth; and some would needs have had the names of Theodorus, Theodoret, and Ibas, condemned; which was the origin of the dispute of the three Chapters.1 John of Antioch wrote to St. Proclus in the same year, 436, against the doctrine of some who seemed to him to confound the two natures in Christ; which error was soon after openly advanced by Eutyches.

The letters of St. Proclus, which are extant, regard chiefly the disputes of that age concerning the incarnation; and of the twenty homilies of this father, which were published at Rome by Ricardi in 1630, and by F. Combefis,2 the last is a fragment of a sermon in praise of St. Chrysostom; the first, fifth, and sixth, are upon the blessed Virgin Mary, whose title of Mother of God he justly extols: the rest turn chiefly upon the mysteries of Christ, and principal festivals of the year. The style of this father is concise, sententious, and full of lively witty turns, more proper to please and delight than to move the heart. This sort of composition requires much pains and study; and though this father was mighty successful in this way, is not to be compared to the easy natural gravity of St. Basil, or the sweet style of St. Chrysostom. The first part of the year 447 is memorable for a dreadful earthquake which was felt from place to place, during six months, in divers parts of Egypt and the East, especially near the Hellespont, and in Bithynia, in Phrygia, and at Antioch in Syria. The earth shook like a ship abandoned to the mercy of the winds, and tossed by the fury of waves worked up by a storm. Amidst the ruins of many stately buildings men ran to and fro almost distracted with fear and horror, not being able to find any place of refuge or security. At Constantinople the inhabitants wandered in the fields; and, with the rest, the emperor Theodosius the Younger, and all his courtiers. St. Proclus, with his clergy, followed his scattered flock, and ceased not to comfort and exhort them amidst their afflictions, and to implore the divine mercy with them. The people continually answered by a triple repetition of this prayer: “Have mercy on us, O Lord.” Theophanes3 and other Greek historians tell us that a child was taken up into the air, and heard angels singing the Trisagion, or triple doxology; which gave occasion to St. Proclus to teach the people to sing it in these words: “Holy God, holy strong, holy immortal, have mercy on us.” It is at least agreed that St. Proclus, with the people, used this prayer, and that thereupon the earthquakes ceased. This trisagion was inserted by him in the divine office which the Greek church uses to this day.* The heretics in the East, by various additions to this trisagion, corrupted the sense by their errors. Peter Fullo, the Eutychian patriarch of Antioch, referring the whole trisagion to Christ alone, added these words: “Who suffered for us,” meaning that there was but one person in Christ, and that his divinity itself suffered. Other heretics corrupted it divers ways. Several Catholics understood the whole of Christ; which is arbitrary, though, by the church, it is meant of God in three persons, as St. Ambrose observes; but prayers directed immediately to any of the three persons are addressed to the Trinity, all the persons being one God. To curb the rashness of heretics it was forbid in the council in Trullo, in 692, to make any addition to the trisagion.4 The Orientals ascribe to St. Proclus the last revision of the liturgies both of St. Chrysostom (or of the church of Constantinople) and of St. James, (or of the church of Jerusalem.) Our saint is styled by St. Cyril, “A man full of piety, perfectly skilled in ecclesiastical discipline, and a strict observer of the canons.” Pope Sixtus III. gives him the like praises, and Vigilius5 calls him the most learned of prelates. St. Proclus died on the 24th of October in 447, the same year in which the earthquakes had happened. His name is placed in the Greek Menologies, and in the Muscovite Calendar.6

How many great, how many learned, how many once holy men have with Nestorius suffered shipwreck before the end of their course? At the sight of such examples, who does not tremble for himself? If we know ourselves, we shall be persuaded that no one is weaker and frailer than we are. Can any creature be more unworthy of the divine mercy than we who have repaid the greatest graces and favors with continual sloth and the basest infidelities? When, therefore, we read of the fall or sins of others, we ought to turn our eyes upon ourselves; to adore the divine mercy which has still borne with us, and is yet ready with stretched-forth arms to embrace us; to shake off our sloth in the practice of virtue, enter upon a fervent penitential life, and, without ceasing, call upon God in fear and humility. He is our strength and support, who is almighty, and most willing and desirous to save us, if our wilful wretchedness and pride stand not in the way. He alone can effectually remove these obstacles: humble prayer and compunction will not fail to obtain this constant grace. To neglect these means is to perish.

OCTOBER 24 — ST. FELIX, B. M

In the beginning of Dioclesian’s persecution, great numbers among the Christians had the weakness to deliver up the sacred books into the hands of the persecutors that they might be burned. Many even sought by false pretences to extenuate or excuse the enormity of this crime, as if it ever could be lawful to concur to a sacrilegious or impious action. Felix, bishop of Thiabara, in the proconsular Africa, was so far from being carried away by the torrent, that the scandals and falls of others were to him a spur to greater fear, watchfulness, constancy, and fortitude. Magnilian, curator or civil magistrate of that city, caused him to be apprehended, and commanded him to give up all books and writings belonging to his church, that they might be burned. The martyr replied, it was better he himself should be burned. This magistrate sent him to the proconsul at Carthage, by whom he was delivered over to the prefect of the prtorium, who was then in Africa. This supreme officer, offended at his bold and generous confession, commanded him to be loaded with heavier bolts and irons, and after he had kept him nine days in a close dungeon, to be put on board a vessel, saying he should stand his trial before the emperor. The bishop lay under the batches in the ship between the horses’ feet four days without eating of drinking. The vessel arrived at Agrigentum in Sicily, and the saint was treated with great honor by the Christians of that island in all the cities through which he passed. When the prefect had brought him as far as Venosa in Apulia, he ordered his irons to be knocked off, and put to him again the questions whether he had the scriptures, and refused to deliver them up. The martyr would not purchase life with the least untruth, and answered, that he could not deny but he had the books, but that he would never give them up. The prefect, without more ado, condemned him to be beheaded. At the place of execution he cheerfully thanked God for all his mercies, and bowing down his head offered himself a sacrifice to him who lives forever, in 303. He was fifty-six years old, and, at his death, declared that he had always preserved his virginity unspotted, and had zealously preached Christ and his truth. See his genuine acts in Baronius and Ruinart, p. 355.

OCTOBER 24 — ST. MAGLOIRE, B. C

Was fellow-disciple of St. Sampson under St. Iltutus in Wales, his cousin, and his zealous companion in his apostolical labors in Armorica or Brittany, and he succeeded him in the abbey of Dole, and in the episcopal character. His labors were attended with a great harvest of souls. After three years he resigned his bishopric, being seventy years old, and retired into a desert on the continent, and some time after into the isle of Jersey, where he founded and governed a monastery of sixty monks. He lived on barley bread and pulse, ate only after sunset, and on Wednesdays and Fridays took no nourishment at all: on Sundays and festivals he added to his bread a little fish. For six months before he died he never stirred out of the church, but when he was obliged by some necessity; and he frequently repeated with sighs: One thing I have asked of the Lord: this will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life.1 He died about the year 575, and is honored on the 24th of October. His relics were removed to Paris for fear of the Normans, with those of St. Sampson, in the tenth century, and are there kept in the church of St. James,* which now bears his name, was a Benedictin monastery, but now belongs to the great seminary of the French Oratorians, and the abbacy is united to the archbishopric. See Lobin. Hist. Eccl. de Paris, t. 1,1. 3, pp. 119, 548 et Vies des SS. de Bretagne, p. 144; Baillet, and the new Paris Breviary.

OCTOBER 25 — SS. CHRYSANTHUS AND DARIA, MARTYRS

See Jos Assemani, in Cal. Universa, t. 6. p. 193, and Falconius comment. ad tab. Ruthenas Capponianus, p. 79, ad 19 Martij. Their acts in Metaphrastes. Lipomanus, and Surius, are of no authority.

In the Third Century

CHRYSANTHUS and DARIA were strangers, who came from the East to Rome, the first from Alexandria, the second from Athens, as the Greeks tell us in their Mena. They add, that Chrysanthus, after having been espoused to Daria, persuaded her to prefer a state of perpetual virginity to that of marriage, that they might more easily with perfect purity of heart trample the world under their feet, and accomplish the solemn consecration they had made of themselves to Christ in baptism. The zeal with which they professed the faith of Christ distinguished them in the eyes of the idolaters; they were accused; and, after suffering many torments, finished their course by a glorious martyrdom, according to their acts in the reign of Numerian: Baillet thinks rather in the persecution of Valerian, in 237. Several others, who, by the example of their constancy, had been moved to declare themselves Christians, were put to death with them. St. Gregory of Tours says,1 that a numerous assembly of Christians, who were praying at their tomb soon after their martyrdom, were, by the order of the prefect of Rome, wailed up in the cave, and buried alive. SS. Chrysanthus and Daria were interred on the Salarian Way, with their companions, whose bodies were found with theirs in the reign of Constantine the Great. This part of the catacombs was long known by the name of the cemetery of SS. Chrysanthus and Daria. Their tomb was decorated by pope Damasus, who composed an epitaph in their honor.2 Their sacred remains were translated by pope Stephen VI., in 866, part into the Lateran basilic, and part into the church of the twelve apostles.3 This at least is true of the relics of their companions. Those of SS. Chrysanthus and Daria, had been translated to the abbey of Prom in the diocese of Triers, in 842, being a gift of Sergius II. In 844, they were removed to the abbey of St. Avol, or St. Navor, in the diocese of Metz.4 The names of SS. Chrysanthus and Daria are famous in the sacramentaries of St. Gelasius and St. Gregory, and in the Martyrologies both of the western and eastern churches. The Greeks honor them on the 19th of March and 17th of October; the Latins on the 25th of October.

OCTOBER 25 — SS. CRISPIN AND CRISPINIAN, MM

See Tillemont, t. 4, p. 461; Bosquet, Hist. Eccl. de France,1. 5, c. 156; Le Moine, Hist. Antiqu. Soissons, Paris, 1771, t. 1, p. 154; the new Paris Breviary, and Baillet from ancient Martyrologies; for the acts of these martyrs are of small authority.

A. D. 287.

THE names of these two glorious martyrs are not less famous in France than those of the two former at Rome. They came from Rome to preach the faith in Gaul towards the middle of the third century, together with St. Quintin and others. Fixing their residence at Soissons, in imitation of St. Paul they instructed many in the faith of Christ, which they preached publicly in the day, at seasonable times; and in imitation of St. Paul, worked with their hands in the night, making shoes, though they are said to have been nobly born, and brothers. The infidels listened to their instructions, and were astonished at the example of their lives, especially of their charity, disinterestedness, heavenly piety, and contempt of glory and all earthly things; and the effect was the conversion of many to the Christian faith. The brothers had continued this employment several years when the emperor Maximian Herculeus coming into the Belgic Gaul, a complaint was lodged against them. The emperor, perhaps as much to gratify their accusers as to indulge his own superstition, and give way to his savage cruelty, gave order that they should be convened before Rictius Varus, the most implacable enemy of the Christian name, whom he had first made governor of that part of Gaul, and had then advanced to the dignity of prefect of the prtorium. The martyrs were victorious over his most inhuman judge, by the patience and constancy with which they bore the most cruel torments, and finished their course by the sword about the year 287.* They are mentioned in the Martyrologies of St. Jerom, Bede, Florus, Ado, Usuard, &c. A great church was built at Soissons in their honor in the sixth century, and St. Eligius richly ornamented their sacred shrine.

From the example of the saints it appears how foolish the pretences of many Christians are, who imagine the care of a family, the business of a farm or a shop, the attention which they are obliged to give to their worldly profession, are impediments which excuse them from aiming at perfection. Such, indeed, they make them; but this is altogether owing to their own sloth and malice. How many saints have made these very employments the means of their perfection! St. Paul made tents; Saints Crispin and Crispinian were shoemakers; the Blessed Virgin was taken up in the care of her poor cottage; Christ himself worked with his reputed father; and those saints who renounced all commerce with the world to devote themselves totally to the contemplation of heavenly things, made mats, tilled the earth, or copied and bound good books. The secret of the art of their sanctification was, that fulfilling the maxims of Christ, they studied to subdue their passions and die to themselves; they, with much earnestness and application, obtained of God, and improved daily in their souls, a spirit of devotion and prayer; their temporal business they regarded as a duty which they owed to God, and sanctified it by a pure and perfect intention, as Christ on earth directed every thing he did to the glory of his Father. In these very employments, they were careful to improve themselves in humility, meekness, resignation, divine charity, and all other virtues, by the occasions which call them forth at every moment, and in every action. Opportunities of every virtue, and every kind of good work never fail in all circumstances; and the chief means of our sanctification may be practised in every state of life, which are self-denial and assiduous prayer, frequent aspirations, and pious meditation or reflections on spiritual truths, which disengage the affections from earthly things, and deeply imprint in the heart those of piety and religion.

OCTOBER 25 — ST. GAUDENTIUS OF BRESCIA, B. C

He seems to have been educated under St. Philastrius, bishop of Brescia, whom he styles his father. His reputation ran very high when he travelled to Jerusalem, partly to shun applause and honors, and partly hoping by his absence to be at last forgotten at home. In this, however, he was mistaken. In a monastery at Csarea in Cappadocia he met with the sisters and nieces of St. Basil, who, as a rich present, bestowed on him certain relics of the forty martyrs, and some other saints, knowing that he would honor those sacred pledges as they had honored them.1 During his absence St. Philastrius died, and the clergy and people of Brescia, who had been accustomed to receive from him solid instructions, and in his person to see at their head a perfect model of Christian virtue, pitched upon him for their bishop, and fearing obstacles from his humility, bound themselves by oath to receive no other for their pastor. The bishops of the province met, and with St. Ambrose, their metropolitan, confirmed the election. Letters were dispatched to St. Gaudentius, who was then in Cappadocia, to press his speedy return; but he only yielded to the threat of an excommunication if he refused to obey. He was ordained by St. Ambrose, with other bishops of the province, about the year 387; the sermon which he preached on that occasion, expresses the most profound sentiments of humility with which he was penetrated.2

The church of Brescia soon found how great a treasure it possessed in so holy a pastor. He never ceased to break to them the bread of life, and to feed their souls with the important truths of salvation. A certain virtuous nobleman named Benevolus, who had been disgraced by the empress Justina, because he refused to draw up an edict in favor of the Arians, had retired to Brescia, his own country, and was the greatest ornament of that church. This worthy nobleman being hindered by a severe fit of sickness from attending some of the sermons of St. Gaudentius, requested of him that he would commit them to writing for his use.3 By this means we have seventeen of his sermons.4 In the second which he made for the Neophites at their coming out of the font, he explaineth to them the mysteries which he could not expound in presence of the catechumens, especially the blessed eucharist of which he says: “The Creator and Lord of nature who bringeth the bread out of the ground, maketh also of bread his own body, because he hath promised, and is able to perform it; and he who made wine of water, converteth wine into his own blood.”5 The saint built a new church at Brescia, to the dedication of which he invited many bishops, and in their presence made the seventeenth sermon of those which are extant. In it he says, that he had deposited in this church certain relics of the forty martyrs, of St. John Baptist, St. Andrew, St. Thomas, St. Luke; some of the blood of SS. Gervasius, Protasius, and Nazarius, moulded into a paste, and of the ashes of SS. Sisinnius and Alexander. He affirms that a portion of a martyr’s relics is in virtue and efficacy the same as the whole “Therefore,” says he, “that we may be succored by the patronage of so many saints, let us run and supplicate with an entire confidence, and earnest desire, that by their interceding we may deserve to obtain all things we ask, magnifying Christ our Lord, the giver of so great grace.”6 Besides these seventeen sermons of this father, we have three others. The twentieth is a panegyric on St. Philastrins,7 wherein our saint mentions that he had made a like panegyric on his holy predecessor every year on his anniversary festival for fourteen years. The saint exhorts Christians to banish all dissolute feastings, accompanied with dancing and music, saying, “Those are wretched houses which resemble theatres. Let the houses of Christians be free from every thing of the train of the devil. Let humility and hospitality be practised therein. Let them be always sanctified by psalms and spiritual songs. Let the word of God, and the sign of Jesus Christ (the cross) be in your hearts, in your mouths, on your countenance, at table, in the bath, when you go out and when you come in, in joy and in sorrow.”8 In 405, St. Gaudentius was deputed with some others by the Roman council and by the emperor Honorius into the East to defend the cause of St. Chrysostom before Arcadius; for which commission St. Chrysostom sent him a letter of thanks which is extant, though the deputies were ill received, and imprisoned for some time in Thrace, and afterwards put on board a rotten vessel. St. Gaudentius seems to have died about the year 420; Labbe says, in 427. Rufinus styles him “the glory of the doctors of the age wherein he lives.” He is honored on this day in the Roman Martyrology. See his works printed in the Library of the Fathers, and more correctly at Padua, in 1720, 4to.; also Ceillier, t. 10, p. 517; Cave, Hist. Littr. t. 1, p. 282.

OCTOBER 25 — ST. BONIFACE I., POPE, C

Boniface was a priest of an unblemished character, well versed in the discipline of the church, and advanced in years when he succeeded Zosimus in the pontificate on the 29th of December, in 418. His election was made much against his will, as the relation of it, which was sent by the clergy and people of Rome, and by the neighboring bishops to the emperor Honorius, who resided at Ravenna, testifies. To it concurred seventy priests, some bishops, and the greatest part of the people; but three bishops and some others chose one Eulalius, an ambitious and intriguing man. Symmachus, prefect of Rome, sent an account of this division or schism to the emperor, who ordered that a synod should be assembled to determine the debate. The council which met desired that a greater number of prelates should be called, and made certain provisional decrees, to which Eulalius refused to submit. Whereupon he was condemned by a sentence of the council, and the election of Boniface ratified. This pope was a lover of peace, and remarkable for his mildness; yet he would not suffer the bishops of Constantinople to extend their patriarchate into Illyricum or the other western provinces which were then subject to the eastern empire but had always belonged to the western patriarchate. He strenuously maintained the rights of Rufus, bishop of Thessalonica, who was his vicar in Thessaly and Greece, and would allow no election of bishops to be made in those countries which were not confirmed by him, according to the ancient discipline. In Gaul he restored certain privileges to the metropolitical sees of Narbonne and Vienne, exempting them from any subjection to the primacy of Arles. This holy pope exerted his zeal against the Pelagians, and testified the highest esteem for the great St. Austin, who addressed to him four books against the Pelagians. St. Boniface, in his third letter to Rufus, says:1 “The blessed apostle Peter received by our Lord’s sentence and commission the care of the whole church, which was founded upon him.”2 St. Boniface died towards the latter end of the year 422, having sat somewhat above three years and nine months, and was buried in the cemetery of St. Felicitas, which he had adorned on the Salarian Way. He had made many rich presents of silver patens chalices, and other holy vessels to the churches in Rome. Bede quotes a book of his miracles, and the Roman Martyrology commemorates his name on this day. See his Epistles in Dom. Coutant’s complete edition of the Decretal Epistles of the Popes, of which he only lived to publish the first volume, in 1721, dying the same year at St. Germain des Prez.* The epistles of this pope are also printed in the collections of the councils, as in Labbe’s edition, t. 2, p. 1582, and:. 4, p. 1702. See on his life Baronius, and the Pontifica published by Anastasius the Librarian, (ap. Muratori Script. Ital., t. 3, p. 116,) with the dissertations of Ciampini, Schelstrate, Biancini, and Vignolius on that Pontifical.

OCTOBER 26 — ST. EVARISTUS, POPE AND MARTYR

See Eus. Hist. t. 3, c. 34;1. 4, c. 1. The first part of Anastasius’s Pontifical, ascribed to Damasus; Tillemont, t. 2, p. 231; Berti, Diss. Chronol. t. 2, &c.

A. D. 112.

ST. EVARISTUS succeeded St. Anacletus in the see of Rome, in the reign of Trajan, governed the church nine years, and died in 112. He is honored with the title of martyr in the Pontificals and in most Martyrologies. The institution of cardinal priests is by some ascribed to him, because he first divided Rome into several titles or parishes, according to the Pontifical assigning a priest to each: he also appointed seven deacons to attend the bishop. He conferred holy orders thrice in the month of December, when that ceremony was most usually performed, for which Amalarius assigns moral and mystical reasons; Mabillon and Claude de Vert1 give this, that at Lent and Whitsuntide the bishops were more taken up, but were more at liberty in Advent to give due attention to this important function; for holy orders were always conferred in seasons appointed for fasting and prayer. St. Evaristus was buried near St. Peter’s tomb, on the Vatican.

The disciples of the apostles, by assiduous meditation on heavenly things, were so swallowed up in the life to come, that they seemed no longer inhabitants of this world, but of heaven, where their thoughts and affections were placed, and whither they directed all their actions, even their necessary attention to temporal concerns. If the generality of Christians now-a-days esteem and set their hearts so much on earthly goods, and so easily lose sight of eternity in the course of their actions, they are no longer animated by the spirit of the primitive saints, and are become children of this world, slaves to its vanities, and to their own irregular passions. If we do not correct this disorder of our hearts, and conform our interior to the spirit of Christ, we cannot be entitled to his promises.

OCTOBER 26 — SS. LUCIAN AND MARCIAN, MM

Lucian and Marcian living in the darkness of idolatry applied themselves to the vain study of the black art; but were converted to the faith by finding their charms lose their power upon a Christian virgin, and the evil spirits defeated by the sign of the cross. Their eyes being thus opened, they burned their magical books in the middle of the city of Nicomedia; and, when they had effaced their crimes by baptism, they distributed their possessions among the poor, and retired together into a close solitude, that by exercising themselves in mortification and prayer, they might subdue their passions, and strengthen in their souls that grace which they had just received, and which could not safely be exposed to dangers, and occasions of temptations in the world till it was fenced by rooted habits of all virtues, and religious exercises. After a considerable time spent in silence they made frequent excursions abroad to preach Christ to the Gentiles, and gain souls to the kingdom of his love. The edicts of Decius against the Christians being published in Bithyma, in 250, they were apprehended and brought before the proconsul Sabinus, who asked Lucian by what authority he presumed to preach Jesus Christ? “Every man,” said the martyr, “does well to endeavor to draw his brother out of a dangerous error.” Marcian likewise highly extolled the power of Christ. The judge commanded them to be hung on the rack and cruelly tortured. The martyrs reproached him, that while they worshipped idols they had committed many crimes, and had made open profession of practising art magic without incurring any chastisement; but, when they were become Christians and good citizens, they were barbarously punished. The proconsul threatened them with more grievous torments. “We are ready to suffer,” said Marcian, “but we will never renounce the true God, lest we be cast into a fire which will never be quenched.” At this word Sabinus condemned them to be burned alive. They went joyfully to the place of execution, and, singing hymns of praise and thanksgiving to God, expired amidst the flames. They suffered at Nicomedia in 250, and are honored in the Martyrologies on the 26th of October. See their genuine acts in Surius, Ruinart, p. 151; Tillemont, t. 3, p. 383, and in the original Chaldaic, probably of Eusebius, in Stephen Assemani’s Acta Martyrum Occid. t. 2, p. 49.

OCTOBER 27 — ST. FRUMENTIUS, APOSTLE OF ETHIOPIA, B. C

See Rufinus, Hist1. 1, c. 19; Theodoret,1. 1, c. 22; St. Athan. Apol. 1, p. 696; Socrates.1. 1, c. 19, Sozomen.1. 2, c. 24, Hermant, Vie de S. Athanase, t. 2. p. 240; Tillemont, t. 7, p. 284, t. 8, p. 13; Montfau con, Vit. S. Athan. p. 15, t. 1; Op. S. Athan.; Job Ludolf, (who died at Frankfort, in 1704, and is famous for his travels and skill in the Ethiopian and other Oriental languages.) Hist. thiop.1. 3, c. 7, n 17, ed Comment. In eandem Hist. p. 280; Le Qulen, Or. Chr. t. 2, p. 643.

Fourth Age

A CERTAIN philosopher named Metrodorus, out of curiosity and a desire of seeing the world, and improving his stock of knowledge, made several voyages, and travelled both into Persia, and into Farther India, which name the ancients gave to Ethiopia.* At his return he presented Constantine the Great, who had then lately made himself master of the East, with a quantity of diamonds and other precious stones and curiosities, assuring that prince his collection would have been much more valuable, had not Sapor, king of Persia, seized on the best part of his treasure. His success encouraged Meropius, a philosopher of Tyre, to undertake a like voyage upon the same motive. But God, who conducts all the steps of men, even when they least think of him, raised in him this design for an end of infinitely greater importance and value than all the diamonds which the philosopher could bring back. Meropius carried with him two of his nephews, Frumentius and Edesius, with whose education he was intrusted. In the course of their voyage homewards the vessel touched at a certain port to take in provisions and fresh water. The barbarians of that country, who were then at war with the Romans, stopped the ship, and put the whole crew and all the passengers to the sword, except the two children, who were studying their lessons under a tree at some distance. When they were found, their innocence, tender age, and beauty, pleaded strongly in their favor, and moved the barbarians to compassion; and they were carried to the king, who resided at Axuma, formerly one of the greatest cities in the East, now a poor village in Abyssinia, called Accum, filled with ruins of stately edifices, and sumptuous obelisks which seem to have been funeral monuments of the dead, though none of the inscriptions are now intelligible.1 The prince was charmed with the wit and sprightliness of the two boys, took special care of their education; and, not long after, made Edesius his cup-bearer, and Frumentius, who was the elder, his treasurer and secretary of state, intrusting him with all the public writings and accounts. They lived in great honor with this prince, who, on his death-bed, thanked them for their services, and, in recompense, gave them their liberty. After his demise, the queen, who was left regent for her eldest son, entreated them to remain at court, and assist her in the government of the state, wherein she found their fidelity abilities, and integrity her greatest support and comfort. Frumentius had the principal management of affairs, and desiring to promote the faith of Christ in that kingdom, engaged several Christian merchants, who traded there, to settle in the country, and procured them great privileges, and all the conveniences for their religious worship, and by his own fervor and example strongly recommended the true religion to the infidels. When the young king, whose name was Aizan, came to age, and took the reins of government into his own hands, the brothers resigned their posts, and though he invited them to stay, Edesius went back to Tyre, where he was afterwards ordained priest. But Frumentius having nothing so much at heart as the conversion of the whole nation, took the route of Alexandria, and entreated the holy archbishop, St. Athanasius, to send some pastor to that country, ripe for a conversion to the faith. St. Athanasius called a synod of bishops, and by their unanimous advice ordained Frumentius himself bishop of the Ethiopians, judging no one more proper than himself to finish the work which he had begun.* Frumentius, vested with this sacred character, went back to Axuma, and gained great numbers to the faith by his discourses and miracles; for seldom did any nation embrace Christianity with greater ardor, or defend it with greater courage. King Aizan and his brother Sazan, whom he had associated in the throne, received baptism, and, by their fervor, were a spur to their subjects in the practice of every virtue and religious duty. The Arian emperor Constantius conceived an implacable jealousy against St. Frumentius, because he was linked in faith and affection with St. Athanasius; and when he found that he was not even to be tempted, much less seduced by him, he wrote a haughty letter to the two converted kings, in which he commanded them with threats, to deliver up Frumentius into the hands of George, the barbarous invader of the see of Alexandria. This letter was communicated by them to St. Athanasius, who has inserted it in his apology to Constantius. Our holy bishop continued to feed and defend his flock till it pleased the Supreme Pastor to recompense his fidelity and labors. The Latins commemorate him on the 27th of October; the Greeks on the 30th of November. The Abyssinians honor him as the apostle of the country of the Axumites, which is the most considerable part of their empire.† They also place among the saints the two kings Aizan, whom they call Abreha and Sazan, whose name in their modern language is Atzbeha. St. Frumentius they call St. Fremonat.

In every age, from Christ down to this very time, some new nations have been added to the fold of Christ, as the annals of the church show; and the apostacy of those that have forsaken the path of truth, has been repaired by fresh acquisitions. This is the work of the Most High; the wonderful effect of all-powerful grace. It is owing to the divine blessing that the heavenly seed fructifies in the hearts of men, and it is God who raises up, and animates with his spirit zealous successors of the apostles, whom he vouchsafes to make his instruments in this great work. We are indebted to his gratuitous mercy for the inestimable benefit of this light of faith. If we correspond not faithfully, with fear and trembling, to so great a grace, our punishment will be so much the more dreadful.

OCTOBER 27 — ST. ELESBAAN, KING OF ETHIOPIA, C

The Axumite Ethiopians, whose dominions were extended from the western coast of the Red Sea, very far on the continent, were in the sixth century a powerful and flourishing nation. St. Elesbaan their king, during the reign of Justin the Elder, in all his actions and designs had no other desire than to procure in all things the happiness of his people, and the divine glory. The mildness and prudence of his government was a sensible proof how great a blessing a people enjoys in a king who is free from inordinate passions and selfish views, to gratify which princes so often become tyrants. This good king, however, was obliged to engage in a war. But his motives were justice and religion; and the exaltation of both was the fruit of his victory. The Homerite Arabians dwelt upon the eastern coast at the bottom of the Red Sea, in Arabia Felix, and were either a part of the Sabans, or their neighbors. This nation was full of Jews; and Dunaan or Danaan, a Jew who had usurped the sovereignty, persecuted the Christians. St. Gregentius, who was an Arabian by birth, and archbishop of Taphar, the metropolis of this country, was banished by him in 520 St. Aretas, the governor of the city Neogran, was beheaded, with four companions, for his constancy in the faith. His wife Duma, and daughters, also suffered death for the same glorious cause, and are honored as martyrs on the 24th of October, in the Roman, and in other Western, as well as in the Eastern and Muscovite calendars.* The emperor Justin the Elder, whose protection the persecuted Christians had implored, engaged St. Elesbaan to transport his forces into Arabia, and drive away the usurper. The zealous prince complied with this just desire, and having by the divine blessing defeated the tyrant, made use of his victory with great clemency and moderation, re-established religion, recalled St. Gregentius, and repaired the vineyard, which a furious wild beast had laid waste. He rebuilt the church at Taphar; and, by laying the first stone, would be himself the first architect. He placed on the throne Abraamius, a pious Christian, who governed by the counsels of St. Gregentius. That holy prelate had a famous conference with the Jews,* and wrote a book against vices,1 extant in Greek in the Imperial library at Vienna. St. Gregentius died on the 19th of December, in 552. Baillet tells us, that St. Elesbaan resigned his crown soon after his return into his own dominions: but Nonnus, in his Legation2 testifies, in 527, several years after this war, that Elesbaan then resided at Axuma, a very great city, capital of Ethiopia. At length, this good king, leaving his dominions to a son who was heir of his zeal and piety no less than of his kingdom, sent his royal diadem to Jerusalem, put on sackcloth, and retired secretly in the night out of the palace and city to a holy monastery situated on a solitary mountain, where he took the monastic habit, and shut himself up in a cell for the remaining part of his life. He carried nothing with him out of the palace but a mat to lie on, and a cup to drink out of. His food was only bread, with which he sometimes took a few dry herbs; he never drank any thing but water. He would not allow himself the least distinction above the last among his brethren, and was the first in every duty of his new state. No seculars ever had access to him, and his whole employment consisted in the exercises of penance, the contemplation of heavenly things, and conversing with God, by whom he was at length called, by a happy death, to reign eternally with Christ. His name occurs in the Roman Martyrology. See Theophanes, Cedrenus, Jos. Assemani, in his most valuable Bibl. Orient. t. 1, pp. 359 and 385; also in his Comm. in Calend. Univ. t. 6, p. 316, which work, more leisure would have enabled him to have digested and rendered (like the former) more methodical. See also Orsi,1. 39, n. 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, t. 17, p. 206.

OCTOBER 27 — ST. ABBAN, ABBOT IN IRELAND

He was son of Cormac, king of Leinster, and of Mella, sister to St. Ibar, who is said by ancient writers to have preached in Ireland a little before the arrival of St. Patrick; though others think he was consecrated bishop by St. Patrick. St. Ibar having labored with zeal in the conversion of the pagans, founded the monastery of Beg-erin, a small island on the coast of Kinselach, in Leinster, where he died about the year 500, and is honored on the 23d of April. After Ibar’s death, our saint, who had been trained up in the monastery of Beg-erin, followed the steps of his holy uncle, and converted a great number of idolaters. He founded the monasteries of Kil-abbain in the north of Leinster, and Magharnoidhe in Kinselach, and died in the former, towards the end of the sixth century. See Usher, Antiq. Colgan, Act. SS. p. 610, et seq.

OCTOBER 28 — ST. SIMON, SURNAMED THE ZEALOT, APOSTLE

See Tillem. t. 1, p. 423; also Nicetas Paphiagon. In his Encomium Simonis Zelot Ap. published by F. Combefis in Auctar. Noviss. Bibl. Patr. t. 1, p. 408, and Combefis’s remarks on the apostles Simon and Jude, t. 8, Bibi. Conclonat. p. 290, Jos. Assemani In Calend. Univ. ad 10 Maij, t. 6, p. 334.1

ST. SIMON is surnamed the Cananan or Canaanite, and the Zealot, to distinguish him from St. Peter, and from St. Simeon, the brother of St. James the Less, and his successor in the see of Jerusalem. From the first of these surnames some have thought that St. Simon was born at Cana, in Galilee. Certain modern Greeks pretend that it was at his marriage that our Lord turned the water into wine. It is not to be doubted but he was a Galilan: Theodoret says, of the tribe either of Zabulon or Nepthali. But as for the surname of Cananan, it has in Syro-Chaldaic the same signification which the word Zelotes bears in Greek. St. Luke translated it, the other evangelists retained the original name; for Canath in Syro-Chaldaic, or modern Hebrew, signifies Zeal, as St. Jerom observes.2 Nicephorus Calixti, a modern Greek historian, tells us this name was given to St. Simon only from the time of his apostleship, wherein he expressed an ardent zeal and affection for his Master, was an exact observer of all the rules of his religion, and opposed with a pious warmth all those who swerved from it. As the evangelists take no notice of such a circumstance, Hammond and Grotius think that St. Simon was called the Zealot, before his coming to Christ, because he was one of that particular sect or party among the Jews called Zealots, from a singular zeal they professed for the honor of God, and the purity of religion. A party called Zealots were famous in the war of the Jews against the Romans. They were main instruments in instigating the people to shake off the yoke of subjection; they assassinated many of the nobility and others, in the streets, filled the temple itself with bloodshed and other horrible profanations, and were the chief cause of the ruin of their country. But no proof is offered by which it is made to appear that any such party existed in our Saviour’s time, though some then maintained that it was not lawful for a Jew to pay taxes to the Romans. At least if any then took the name of Zealots, they certainly neither followed the impious conduct, nor adopted the false and inhuman maxims of those mentioned by Josephus in his history of the Jewish war against the Romans.

St. Simon, after his conversion, was zealous for the honor of his Master, and exact in all the duties of the Christian religion; and showed a pious indignation towards those who professed this holy faith with their mouths, but dishonored it by the irregularity of their lives. No further mention appears of him in the gospels, than that he was adopted by Christ into the college of the apostles. With the rest he received the miraculous gifts of the Holy Ghost, which he afterwards exercised with great zeal and fidelity. Nicephorus Calixti, and some other modern Greeks, pretend, that after preaching in Mauritania, and other parts of Africa, he sailed into Britain, and having enlightened the minds of many with the doctrine of the gospel, was crucified by the infidels.3 But of this there appears no shadow of probability, and the vouchers, by many inconsistencies, destroy the credit of their own assertion. If this apostle preached in Egypt, Cyrene, and Mauritania, he returned into the East; for the Martyrologies of St. Jerom, Bede, Ado, and Usuard place his martyrdom in Persia, at a city called Suanir, possibly in the country of the Suani, a people in Colchis, or a little higher in Sarmatia, then allied with the Parthians in Persia: which may agree with a passage in the Acts of St. Andrew, that in the Cimmerian Bosphorus there was a tomb in a grot, with an inscription, importing that Simon the Zealot was interred there. His death is said in these Martyrologies to have been procured by the idolatrous priests. Those who mention the manner of his death say he was crucified. St. Peter’s church on the Vatican at Rome, and the cathedral of Toulouse are said to possess the chief portions of the relics of SS. Simon and Jude.4

OCTOBER 28 — ST. JUDE, APOSTLE

See Tillemont, t. 1; Jos. Assemani, ad 19 Junij, t. 6, p. 453; Falconius, Ib. p. 105; Calmet, t. 9.

THE apostle St. Jude is distinguished from the Iscariot by the surname of Thaddus, which signifies in Syriac, praising or confession, (being of the same import with the Hebrew word Judas,) also by that of Lebbus, which is given him in the Greek text of St. Matthew; that word signifying, according to St. Jerom, a man of wit and understanding, from the Hebrew word Leb, a heart; though it might equally be derived from the Hebrew word, which signifies a Lion. St. Jude was brother to St. James the Less, as he styles himself in his epistle; likewise of St. Simeon of Jerusalem, and of one Joses,1 who are styled the brethren of our Lord, and were sons of Cleophas, and Mary, sister to the Blessed Virgin. This apostle’s kindred and relation to our Saviour exalted him not so much in his master’s eyes as his contempt of the world, the ardor of his holy zeal and love, and his sufferings for his sake. It is not known when and by what means he became a disciple of Christ; nothing having been said of him in the gospels before we find him enumerated in the catalogue of the apostles. After the last supper, when Christ promised to manifest himself to every one who should love him, St. Jude asked him, why he did not manifest himself to the world? By which question, he seems to have expressed his expectation of a secular kingdom of the Messias. Christ by his answer satisfied him, that the world is unqualified for divine manifestations, being a stranger and an enemy to what must fit souls for a fellowship with heaven; but that he would honor those who truly love him with his familiar converse, and would admit them to intimate communications of grace and favor.2

After our Lord’s ascension and the descent of the Holy Ghost, St. Jude set out with the other great conquerors of the world and hell, to pull down the prince of darkness from his usurped throne; which this little troop undertook to effect armed only with the word of God, and his spirit. Eusebius relates,3 that the apostle St. Thomas sent St. Thaddus, one of the disciples of our Lord, to Edessa, and that king Abgar and a great number of his people received baptism at his hands. St. Jerom and Bede take this Thaddus to have been the apostle St. Jude; but it is the general opinion that it was another person, one of the seventy-two disciples whom the Greeks commemorate in the Mena on the 21st of August.* Nicephorus, Isidore, and the Martyrologies tell us, that St. Jude preached up and down Juda, Samaria, Iduma, and Syria; especially in Mesopotamia. St. Paulinus says,4 that St. Jude planted the faith in Libya. This apostle returned from his missions to Jerusalem in the year 62, after the martyrdom of his brother, St. James, and assisted at the election of St. Simeon, who was likewise his brother.5 He wrote a Catholic or general epistle to all the churches of the East, particularly addressing himself to the Jewish converts, amongst whom he had principally labored. St. Peter had written to the same two epistles before this, and in the second, had chiefly in view to caution the faithful against the errors of the Simonians, Nicholaits, and Gnostics. The havoc which these heresies continued to make among souls stirred up the zeal of St. Jude, who sometimes copied certain expressions of St. Peter,6 and seems to refer to the epistles of SS. Peter and Paul as if the authors were then no more.7 The heretics he describes by many strong epithets and similes, and calls them wandering meteors which seem to blaze for a while, but set in eternal darkness. The source of their fall he points out by saying, they are murmurers, and walk after their own lusts; for being enslaved to pride, envy, the love of sensual pleasure, and other passions, and neglecting to crucify the desires of the flesh in their hearts, they were strangers to sincere humility, meekness, and interior peace. The apostle exhorts the faithful to treat those who were fallen with tender compassion, making a difference between downright malice and weakness, and endeavoring by holy fear to save them, by plucking them as brands out of the fire of vice and heresy, and hating the very garment that is spotted with iniquity. He puts us in mind to have always before our eyes the great obligation we lie under of incessantly building up our spiritual edifice of charity, by praying in the Holy Ghost, growing in the love of God, and imploring his mercy through Christ.* From Mesopotamia St. Jude travelled into Persia, as Fortunatus8 and several Martyrologies tell us. Those who say, that he died in peace at Berytus, in Phenicia, confound him with Thaddus, one of the seventy-two disciples, and the apostle of Edessa, of whom the Mena gives that account.9 Fortunatus and the western Martyrologists tell us, that the apostle St. Jude suffered martyrdom in Persia; the Menology of the emperor Basil, and some other Greeks say at Arat or Ararat, in Armenia, which at that time was subject to the Parthian empire, and consequently esteemed part of Persia. Many Greeks say he was shot to death with arrows: some add while he was tied on a cross. The Armenians at this day challenge him and St. Bartholomew for the first planters of the faith among them.10†

We owe to God a homage of eternal praise and thanks for the infinite mercy by which he has established a church on earth, and a church so richly furnished with every powerful means of sanctity and grace; a church in which his name is always glorified, and many souls, both by the purity of their love and virtue, and by their holy functions, are associated to the company of the blessed angels. It ought also to be our first and constant petition in our most earnest addresses to God, as we learn from our Lord’s prayer, and as the first dictates of divine charity and religion teach us, that for the glory of his holy name he vouchsafes to protect and preserve his church, according to his divine word; to dilate its pale, to sanctify its members, and to fill its pastors with the same spirit with which he so wonderfully enriched his apostles, whom he was pleased to choose for the foundation of this sacred edifice. If we desire to inherit a share of those abundant and precious graces which God pours forth upon those souls which he disposes to receive them, we must remember that he never imparts them but to those who sincerely study to die to themselves, and to extirpate all inordinate attachments and affections out of their hearts; so long as any of these reign in a soul, she is one of that world to which God cannot manifest himself, or communicate the sweet relish of his love. This is the mystery which Christ unfolded to St. Jude. The world hath not known him. Few even among those who know God by faith, attain to the experimental knowledge of God, and the relish of his love, because few, very few, disentangle their affection from creatures. So long as their hearts remain secretly wedded to the world, they fall in some degree under its curse. And how few study perfectly to extinguish its spirit in their hearts.

OCTOBER 28 — ST. FARO, BISHOP OF MEAUX, C

The city of Meaux, situated on the Marne, ten leagues from Paris, in the time of the ancient Gauls, was subject to the Parisii, and received the first seeds of faith by the preaching of St. Dionysius of Paris about the year 250. St. Sanctinus, or Saintin, first bishop of Meaux, is said by some to have been a disciple of that saint in the third age; but Du Plessis1 thinks him to have been the same Saintin who was bishop of Verdun in the fourth century, and whose relics were translated from Meaux to the abbey of St. Vanne at Verdun, in the eleventh century. His successor Antoninus, and Rigomer the ninth bishop of Meaux, are honored among the saints. But the eminent sanctity of St. Faro, the fourteenth bishop of this see, has rendered his name the most illustrious of all the prelates of this see, who are mentioned in the calendars of the church. His original name is Burgundofaro, and that of his holy sister Burgundofara; the words faro and fara in the Burgundian language signifying of a lineage; so that these names imply that they were of an ancient noble Burgundian family,2 which is attested in the ancient life of St. Far0,3 and by a hymn on St. Faro used in the ninth age. Their father Agneric was one of the principal lords and officers at the court of Theodobert II., king of Austrasia; for Meaux and Brie then belonged to that kingdom, not to Burgundy, as Baillet pretends.4 For though Gontran, king of Orleans and Burgundy, from 561 to 592, possessed the county of Sens which had formerly been part of Austrasia, the kings of Austrasia were all that time in possession of Meaux. Agneric had by his wife Leodegondis four children, St. Cagnoald, (who took the monastic habit at Luxeul, under St. Columban,) St. Faro, St. Fara, and St. Agnetrudis. His seat was at Pipimisium, two leagues from Meaux, in the forest of Brie, according to the lives of St. Eustatius and St. Faro; which seems the village of Champigne in Brie, rather than Aubigny, as Mabillon conjectured,5 but which lies on the other side. There Agneric harbored St. Columban in 610, and that holy abbot gave his blessing to him and to each of his children, Cagnoald, the eldest, having lived under his discipline since the year 594, and then bearing him company.

St. Faro spent his youth in the court of king Theodobert II., where his life was rather that of a recluse than a courtier. After the death of Theodobert, and that of his brother and successor Theodoric, the saint, in 613, passed to the court of Clotaire II., who reunited the whole French monarchy. When that prince, provoked at the insolent speeches of certain Saxon ambassadors, had cast them into prison, and swore he would cause them to be put to death, St. Faro first prevailed on him to defer the execution twenty-four hours, and afterwards not only to pardon them, but also to send them home loaded with presents.

Mabillon quotes certain charters which St. Faro subscribed in quality of referendary or chancellor6 Dom. Du Plessis observes,7 that it is an unpardonable blunder of Yepez,8 who tells us, that St. Faro made his monastic profession at Rebais, when that abbey was not in being. Trithemius says9 he took the habit at Luxeul; which is also an evident mistake. For it is certain, that from a secular military state he passed to that of the secular clergy. At court he employed his credit with his prince to protect the innocent, the orphan, and the widow; and to relieve and comfort all that were in distress. The life which he led there was most edifying and holy prayer and pious meditation were his principal delight, and he inflamed his soul every day more and more with the love of heavenly things. His great virtues and abilities engaged the esteem and affection of the king and the whole nation; yet the world, while it flattered and smiled on him, displeased him. His employments in it, how just soever, seemed to distract his mind too much from God, and he saw nothing in it but snares and dangers. One day he entertained his sister St. Fara, who was at that time abbess, on this subject, in such a manner that, being penetrated more than ever with these sentiments, he was inspired with an earnest desire to forsake the world. Blidechilde, his wife, whose consent he asked, was in the same dispositions; and they parted by mutual consent. She took the religious veil, and retired to a solitary place upon one of her own estates, which seems to have been at Aupigny, where, some years after, she died in the odor of sanctity. St. Faro received the clerical tonsure, and was the ornament of the clergy of Meaux; which episcopal see becoming vacant by the death of the Bishop Gondoald, he was unanimously chosen to fill it, about the year 626.

The holy prelate labored for the salvation of the souls committed to his charge, with unwearied zeal and attention, and promoted exceedingly their advancement in Christian perfection, and the conversion of those who had not yet forsaken the errors of idolatry. The author of his life tells us that he restored sight to a blind man by conferring on him the sacrament of confirmation, and wrought several other miracles. In 650 he assisted at the council of Sens: he invited holy men into his diocese, and encouraged and promoted pious foundations to be sanctuaries of religion, and nurseries and schools of piety and virtue. Excited by his exhortations and example, many others entered into the same zealous views, and gave themselves up to the most heroic practices of virtue.*

St. Faro afforded a retreat to St. Fiaker, and directed many saints of both sexes in the paths of perfection, and had a share in many pious establishments made by others. A little before his death he founded in the suburbs of the city of Meaux, where he possessed a large estate, the great monastery of the Holy Cross, which now bears his name, and is of the reformed congregation of St. Maur St. Faro placed in it monks from Luxeul, of the institute of St. Columban; but the rule of St. Bennet was afterwards received here, and the famous abbey of Prum, founded by king Pepin in the Ardennes, in 763, was a filiation of this house. St. Faro, after having peopled his diocese with so many saints, went to receive the recompense of his labors on the 28th of October, in 672, being about fourscore years old, and having governed the church of Meaux forty-six years.10 See the three Latin lives of St. Faro, one compiled by Hildeger, bishop of Meaux, in the ninth century, (ap. Mabil. Act. Ben. t. 2, p. 606,) another in verse, written by Fulcoius, subdeacon of Meaux, in the eleventh century; and a third published by Surius, with alterations of the style; extant genuine in manuscripts at St. Faro’s, &c. See also Dom. Toussaints Du Plessis, the Maurist monk, Hist. de l’Eglise de Meaux, t. 1,1. 1, n. 41, 42, 43, 64, 73, note 22, 23, 24, 36; and on the plundering of St. Faro’s church by the Huguenots, ib.1. 4, n. 49, 50, p. 358, t. 2, p. 664.

OCTOBER 28 — ST. NEOT, ANCHORET, C

To this holy hermit is generally ascribed the glorious project of the foundation of our first and most noble university, in which he was king Alfred’s first adviser.† St. Neot was born of noble parentage, and, according to many authors, related to King Alfred. In his youth he took the monastic habit at Glastenbury, and pursued his studies with great application, in which a natural strong inclination from his infancy was the index of his extraordinary genius and capacity. He became one of the greatest scholars of the age, but was yet more admirable for his humility, piety, and devotion. The bishop of the diocese was so taken with his saintly deportment and conversation, that when the saint was yet very young, he, by compulsion, ordained him first deacon, and soon after priest. St. Neot dreaded the danger of being drawn out of his beloved obscurity, which he coveted above all earthly blessings; being more desirous to slide gently through the world without being so much as taken notice of by others, and without being distracted from applying his mind to his only great affair in this life, than most men are to bustle and make parade on the theatre of the world. He feared particularly the insinuating poison of vanity, which easily steals into the heart amidst applause, even without being perceived. Therefore, with the leave of his superior, he retired to his solitude in Cornwall, which was then called St. Guerir’s, from a British saint of that name, but is since called, from our holy anchoret, Neot-stoke. In this hermitage he emaciated his body by rigorous fasts, and nourished his soul with heavenly contemplation, in which he received great favors of God, and was sometimes honored with the visits of angels. After seven years spent in this retreat, he made a pilgrimage to Rome; but returned again to the same cell. Several persons of quality and virtue began to resort to him to beg the assistance of his prayers and holy counsels; and the reputation of his wisdom and experience in the paths of an interior life reached the ears of king Alfred.* That great prince, from that time, especially while he lay concealed in Somersetshire, to the death of the holy hermit, frequently visited him, and doubtless, by his discourses, received great light, and was inflamed with fresh ardor in the practice of virtue. St. Neot’s counsels were also to him of great use for regulating the government of his kingdom. Our saint particularly recommended to him the advancement of useful and sacred studies, and advised him to repair the schools of the English founded at Rome, and to establish others at home. Both which things this king most munificently executed.

Our historians agree that the plan of erecting a general study of all the sciences and liberal arts was laid by this holy anchoret; and upon it Alfred is said to have founded the university of Oxford. By his advice the king invited to his court Asserius, a monk of Menevia or St. David’s, in Wales, Grimbald, a monk of St. Bertin’s, (from whom part of the chancel in St. Peter’s old church at Oxford, is called, to this day, St. Grimbald’s seat,) and John the Saxon, from Old Saxony, whom he nominated abbot of the new monastery which he founded at Athelingay in Somersetshire. This John the Saxon is by some confounded with John Scotus Erigena, who, without any invitation or encouragement of king Alfred, was obliged to leave France for certain heterodox opinions which he had advanced, taught a private school at Malmesbury, and was murdered by his own scholars. Alford, Wood, and Camden, upon the authority of certain annals of Worcester, make St. Neot the first professor of theology at Oxford; but this seems not consistent with the more ancient authentic accounts of those times; and St. Neot seems to have died about the time when that university was erected, in 877, or, according to Tanner, 883. His death happened on the 31st of July, on which day his principal festival was kept; his name was also commemorated on the days of the translations of his relics. His body was first buried in his own church in Cornwall, where certain disciples to whom he had given the monastic habit, had founded a little monastery. His relics, in the reign of king Edgar, were removed by Count Ethelric and his famous lady Ethelfleda, out of Cornwall into Huntingdonshire, and deposited at Einulfsbury, since called St. Neot’s or St. Need’s, where an abbey was built by count Alfric, which bore his name.1 When Osketil was the ninth abbot of Croyland, his sister Leviva, to whom the manor of Einulfsbury belonged, caused these relics to be transferred to Croyland; but they were afterwards brought back to the former church, which from that time took the name of St. Neot’s. Many memorials of this saint were preserved at Glastenbury, with an iron grate (or rather a step made of iron bars) upon which the holy man used to stand at the altar when he said mass, being of a very low stature, as John of Glastenbury, and Malmesbury testify. Asserius assures us that king Alfred experienced the powerful assistance of St. Neot’s intercession when the saint had quitted this mortal life. Being much troubled in his youth with temptations of impurity he earnestly begged of God that he might be delivered from that dangerous enemy, and that he might rather be afflicted with some constant painful distemper. From that time he was freed from these alarming assaults, but felt a very painful disorder, which seems by the description which Asserius has given of it, to have chiefly been an excruciating sort of piles, or a fistula. He sometimes poured forth his prayers and sighs to God a long time together at the tomb of St. Neot, formerly his faithful director, whose body then remained in Cornwall; and found both comfort and relief in his interior troubles. The corporal distemper above mentioned only left him to be succeeded by violent colics. See John of Glastenbury’s Historia de rebus Glastoniensibus, published by Hearne, t. 1, pp 110, 111, 112. This author copied his account of St. Neot from the life of the saint compiled by one who was contemporary, and is quoted by Asserius himself. See also in Leland an extract of another life of St. Neot, written by a monk, Itiner. t. 4, Append. pp. 126, 134, ed. Hearne, an. 1744. The same inquisitive antiquarian,1. de Scriptor. Angl. mentions two lives of St. Neot which he saw at St. Neot’s, one of which was read in the office of this saint on his festival; he also quotes concerning him certain annals which he calls the Chronicle of St. Neot’s, because he found them in that monastery. They are published by the learned Gale, inter. Hist. Brit. Script. 15, p. 141, which work he ascribes to Asserius, and calls his Annals. (Prf. n. 10.) See Tanner’s Bibl. in Asserio, p. 54. Also F. Alford’s Annals, t. 3, ad an. 878, 886, 890. The life of St. Neot in Capgrave, Mabillon, and the Bollandists is spurious. See Leland in Collect. t. 3, pp. 13, 14.

OCTOBER 29 — ST. NARCISSUS, BISHOP OF JERUSALEM

From Euseb. Hist.1. 5, c. 12, 23, 25;1. 6, c. 9, 10, 11, 12. St. Jerom, De viris illustr. c. 73. Tillemont, t. 3.

Second Century.

ST. NARCISSUS was born towards the close of the first century, and was almost fourscore years old when he was placed at the head of the church of Jerusalem, being the thirtieth bishop of that see. In 195, he and Theophilus, bishop of Csarea in Palestine, presided in a council of the bishops of Palestine held at Csarea, about the time of celebrating Easter; in which it was decreed that this feast is to be kept always on a Sunday, and not with the Jewish passover. Eusebius assures us, that the Christians of Jerusalem preserved in his time the remembrance of several miracles which God had wrought by this holy bishop; one of which he relates as follows. One year on Easter-eve the deacons were unprovided with oil for the lamps in the church, necessary at the solemn divine office that day. Narcissus ordered those who had care of the lamps to bring him some water from the neighboring wells. This being done, he pronounced a devout prayer over the water; then bade them pour it into the lamps; which they did, and it was immediately converted into oil, to the great surprise of the faithful. Some of this miraculous oil was kept there as a memorial at the time when Eusebius wrote his history. The veneration of all good men for this holy bishop could not shelter him from the malice of the wicked. Three incorrigible sinners, fearing his inflexible severity in the observance of ecclesiastical discipline, laid to his charge a detestable crime, which Eusebius does not specify. They confirmed their atrocious calumny by dreadful oaths and imprecations; one wishing he might perish by fire, another, that he might be struck with a leprosy, and the third, that he might lose his sight, if what they alleged was not the truth. Notwithstanding these protestations, their accusation did not find credit; and, some time after, the divine vengeance pursued the calumniators. The first was burnt in his house, with his whole family, by an accidental fire in the night; the second was struck with a universal leprosy; and the third, terrified by these examples, confessed the conspiracy and slander, and by the abundance of tears which he continually shed for his sins, lost his sight before his death.

Narcissus, notwithstanding the slander had made no impression on the people to his disadvantage, could not stand the shock of the bold calumny, or rather made it an excuse for leaving Jerusalem, and spending some time in solitude, which had long been his wish. He spent several years undiscovered in his retreat, where he enjoyed all the happiness and advantage which a close conversation with God can bestow. That his church might not remain destitute of a pastor, the neighboring bishops of the province, after some time, placed in it Pius, and after him Germanion, who, dying in a short time, was succeeded by Gordius. While this last held the see, Narcissus appeared again like one from the dead. The whole body of the faithful, transported at the recovery of their holy pastor, whose innocence had been most authentically vindicated, conjured him to reassume the administration of the diocese. He acquiesced; but afterwards, bending under the weight of extreme old age, made St. Alexander his coadjutor.1 This primitive example authorizes the practice of coadjutorships; which, nevertheless, are not allowable by the canons except in cases of the perpetual inability of a bishop through age, incurable infirmity, or other impediment, as Marianus Victorius observes in his notes upon St. Jerom.2 St. Narcissus continued to serve his flock, and even other churches, by his assiduous prayers and his earnest exhortations to unity and concord, as St. Alexander testifies in his letter to the Arsinoites in Egypt, where he says that Narcissus was at that time about one hundred and sixteen years old. The Roman Martyrology honors his memory on the 29th of October.

The pastors of the primitive church, animated with the spirit of the apostles, were faithful imitators of their heroic virtues, discovering the same fervent zeal, the same contempt of the world, the same love of Christ. If we truly respect the church as the immaculate spouse of our Lord, we will incessantly pray for its exaltation and increase, and beseech the Almighty to give it pastors according to his own heart, like those who appeared in the infancy of Christianity. And, that no obstacle on our part may prevent the happy effects of their zeal, we should study to regulate our conduct by the holy maxims which they inculcate; we should regard them as the ministers of Christ; we should listen to them with docility and attention; we should make their faith the rule of ours, and shut our ears against the language of profane novelty. O! that we could once more see a return of those happy days when the pastor and the people had but one heart and one soul; when there was no diversity in our belief; when the faithful seemed only to vie with each other in their submission to the church, and in their desire of sanctification.

OCTOBER 29 — ST. CHEF, IN LATIN, THEUDERIUS, ABBOT

Chef, a young gentleman of one of the best families of the city of Vienne, by the interior call of the Holy Ghost, forsook the world; and having long exercised himself in the most perfect practices of a monastic life under the direction of St. Cæsarius at Arles, returned to his own country, and being joined by several disciples, built for them first cells, and afterwards a monastery near the city of Vienne in Dauphine. It was anciently a custom in the most regular monasteries, that the hebdomadarian priest who said the community mass, spent the week in which he discharged that function, in the closest retirement in his cell, and in holy contemplation and austere penance,1 both that he might be better prepared to offer daily the tremendous sacrifice, and that he might more faithfully acquit himself of his mediatorship between God and his people.* It was also a peculiar custom at Vienne in the sixth century, that some monk, of whose sanctity the people entertained a high opinion, was chosen, who should voluntarily lead the life of a recluse, being walled up in a cell, and spending his whole time in fasting, praying, and weeping to implore the divine mercy in favor of himself and his country. This practice would have been an abuse and superstition, if any persons relying on the prayers of others, were themselves more remiss in prayer or penance. St. Chef was pitched upon for this penitential state, which obligation he willingly took upon himself, and discharged with so much fervor as to seem desirous to set no bounds to his tears and mortifications. An extraordinary gift of miracles made his name famous in the whole country. He died about the year 575, and was buried in the monastery of St. Laurence. His relics were translated to a collegiate church, of which he is the titular patron, and which gives the name of St. Chef to the town where it stands, in Dauphine, eight leagues from Vienne. This saint is named in the Roman Martyrology. See his life written by Ado, archbishop of Vienne, in Mabill. Sc. 1, Ben. p. 678.

OCTOBER 30 — ST. MARCELLUS THE CENTURION, MARTYR

From the authentic acts of his martyrdom in Baronius and Surius, and most correctly in Ruinart, who has published with them the short acts of St. Cassian, p. 312; Tillem. t. 4, p. 575.

A. D. 298.

THE birthday of the emperor Maximian Herculeus was celebrated in the year 298, with extraordinary feasting and solemnity. Pompous sacrifices to the Roman gods made a considerable part of this solemnity. Marcellus, a Christian centurion or captain in the legion of Trajan, then posted in Spain, not to define himself with taking part in those impious abominations, cast away his military belt at the head of his company, declaring aloud that he was a soldier of Jesus Christ, the eternal King. He also threw down his arms and the vine-branch, which was the mark of his post of centurion; for the Roman officers were forbid to strike a soldier with any instrument except a vine-branch, which the centurions usually carried in their hands. The soldiers informed Anastasius Fortunatus, prefect of the legion, by whose order Marcellus was committed to prison. When the festival was over, this judge ordered Marcellus to be brought before him, and asked him what he meant by his late proceedings. Marcellus said, “When you celebrated the emperor’s festival on the 12th before the calends of August, (the day on which Maximian had been declared Csar,) I said aloud that I was a Christian, and could serve no other than Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” Fortunatus told him that it was not in his power to connive at his rashness, and that he was obliged to lay his case before the emperor Maximian and Constantius Csar. Spain was immediately subject to Constantius, who was at that time Csar, and most favorable to the Christians. But Marcellus was sent under a strong guard to Aurelian Agricolaus, vicar to the prefect of the prtorium, who was then at Tangier, in Africa. Agricolaus asked him whether he had really done as the judge’s letter set forth: and, upon his confessing the fact, the vicar passed sentence of death upon him for desertion and impiety, as he called his action. St. Marcellus was forthwith led to execution and beheaded, on the 30th of October. His relics were afterwards translated from Tangier to Leon in Spain, and are kept in a rich shrine in the chief parish church in that city, of which he is the titular saint.

Cassian, the secretary or notary of the court, refused to write the sentence which the vicar pronounced against the martyr, and threw his pencil and table-book on the ground. Agricolaus, rising in a rage from his seat, asked him why he behaved in that manner. “Because,” said Cassian, “the sentence which you have dictated is unjust.” He was immediately hurried to prison, and examined again about a month after. The firmness with which he defended his former answer procured him the crown of martyrdom. He was beheaded on the 3d of December. These two martyrs are mentioned in the Roman Martyrology on their respective days.

We justly honor the martyrs, whom God himself honors. Martyrdom is the most heroic act of divine love, and the most perfect and entire sacrifice man can make of himself to God. Of all the goods of this life, man has nothing more precious and dear than his life and honor. And what stronger proof can he give of his fidelity to the law of God than to embrace with joy an ignominious and cruel death rather than consent to sin? Nor does any thing require a more heroic degree of courage and firmness than to suffer torments at the very thought of which nature shudders. God proportions his rewards and crowns to the measure of our sufferings and love for him. How great, then, is the glory, how abundant the recompence which attends the martyrs! They rejoiced to see their torments redoubled manifold, because they had before their eyes the incomparably greater increase of grace, divine love, and eternal glory. If we shrink under the least sufferings, it is plain our faith and our idea of everlasting bliss must be very weak, and our love faint and imperfect.

OCTOBER 30 — ST. GERMANUS, BISHOP OF CAPUA, C

This holy prelate was sent by pope Hormisdas legate to the emperor Justin, in 519, to engage the Orientals to put an end to the schism which had continued forty years; had been fomented by the emperors Zeno and Anastasius, both favorers of heretics, and by Acacius and other patriarchs of Constantinople. The embassy was attended with the desired success, the heretics were condemned, and the schism entirely abolished. In it St. Germanus and his fellow legates suffered much from the heretics, but escaped out of their hands. St. Gregory the Great relates that this saint saw Paschasius, the deacon of Rome, long after his death, in the flames of purgatory, for having adhered to the schism of Laurence against Symmachus,* and that he was delivered by the prayers of this holy bishop.1 Also that St. Bennet at Mount Cassino saw in a vision the soul of St. Germanus, at the hour of his departure, carried by the ministry of angels to eternal bliss.2 His death happened about the year 540. See Baron. ad ann. 519, &c.; St. Greg. Dia1.1. 2, et 4.

OCTOBER 30 — ST. ASTERIUS, BISHOP OF AMASEA IN PONTUS FATHER OF THE CHURCH

We learn from the writings of this holy prelate that, in his youth, he applied himself to the study of eloquence and the law, and pleaded for some time at the bar. But the love of God ceased not to raise an interior voice in his soul which seemed continually to exhort him to devote himself wholly to the spiritual service of his neighbor. In obedience to this call he renounced his profession and preferments in the world, and entered himself among the clergy. Upon the death of Eulalius, archbishop of Amasea, he was unanimously placed in that metropolitical see. Always zealous for the purity of the Catholic faith, he taught its most holy maxims, and labored assiduously to inspire his flock with its perfect spirit. He appeared in the midst of his people as a vessel filled with that spirit, and communicating the same from the overflowing fulness of his own heart, as St. Gregory describes the good pastor. For it is a vain and foolish presumption and a scandalous profanation for a man to set up for a doctor of penance, patience, humility and holy charity, who is himself a stranger to those virtues. St. Asterius in his sermons recommends alms-deeds with an energy which shows charity to the poor to be his favorite virtue. Avarice, luxury, and all other vices he paints in colors which set their deformity in a true light, and inspire men with abhorrence. He lived to a very advanced age; speaks of the persecution of Julian as an eye-witness,1 and survived the year 400. For, in his sermon against the calends, which he preached on New-Year’s day, he says that Eutropius was consul the foregoing year, which was in 399. He loudly exerts his zeal against the riots of that day, derived from paganism, and declaims against the noise and tumultuous wishes of a happy new year from door to door, in which idle employ many lose that time which they ought rather to employ in dedicating to God the first-fruits of the year by prayer. He says that the church then kept the feasts of Christ’s birth, resurrection, and epiphany, or of lights; likewise the feasts of martyrs. But asks, “What is the festival which Christians keep on the calends and in riots?” The ancients style St. Asterius blessed, and a divine doctor who, as a bright star, diffused his light upon all hearts.2

We have extant several sermons of St. Asterius,* which, though few, are an immortal monument of his masterly eloquence and genius no less than of his piety. His reflections are just and solid, and the expression natural, elegant, and animated; he abounds in lively images and descriptions both of persons and things, which he always beautifies by masterly strokes. In these he discovers a great strength of imagination, and a commanding genius, and moves the inmost springs of the soul. His homily on Daniel and Susanna is a masterpiece. In that on SS. Peter and Paul he teaches and often repeats the prerogative of jurisdiction which St. Peter received over all Christians from the East to the West: and says that Christ made him his vicar, and left him the father, pastor, and master of all those who should embrace the faith.3 In his panegyric of St. Phocas, the martyr at Sinope,4 he established manifestly the invocation of saints, the honoring of their relics, pilgrimages to pray before them, and miracles wrought by them.5 In the following sermon, On the Holy Martyrs, he says, “We keep through every age their bodies decently enshrined, as most precious pledges; vessels of benediction, the organs of their blessed souls, the tabernacles of their holy minds. We put ourselves under their protection. The martyrs defend the church, as soldiers guard a citadel. The people flock in crowds from all quarters, and keep great festivals to honor their tombs. All who labor under the heavy load of afflictions fly to them for refuge. We employ them as intercessors in our prayers and suffrages. In these refuges the hardships of poverty are eased, diseases cured, the threats of princes appeased. A parent, taking a sick child in his arms, postpones physicians, and runs to some one of the martyrs, offering by him his prayer to the Lord, and addressing him whom he employs for his mediator in such word as these. You who have suffered for Christ, intercede for one who suffers by sickness. By that great power and confidence you have, offer a prayer in behalf of fellow-servants. Though you are now removed from us, you know what men on earth feel in their sufferings and diseases. You formerly prayed to martyrs, before you was yourself a martyr. You then obtained your request by asking; now you are possessed of what you asked, in your turn assist me. By your crown ask what may be our advancement. If another is going to be married, he begins his undertaking by soliciting the prayers of the martyrs. Who, putting to sea, weighs anchor before he has invoked the Lord of the sea by the martyrs?”6 The saint describes with what magnificence and concourse of people the feasts of martyrs were celebrated over the whole world. He says, the Gentiles and the Eunomian heretics, whom he calls New Jews, condemned the honors paid to martyrs, and their relics; to whom he answers: “We by no means adore the martyrs, but we honor them as the true adorers of God. We lay their bodies in rich shrines and sepulchres, and erect stately tabernacles of their repose, that we may be stirred up to an emulation of their honors. Nor is our devotion to them without its recompense; for we enjoy their patronage with God,” &c. He says the New Jews, or Eunomians, do not honor the martyrs, because they blaspheme the King of martyrs, making Christ unequal to his Father. He tells them that they ought at least to respect the voice of the devils, who are forced to confess the power of the martyrs. “Those,” says he, “whom we have seen bark like dogs, and who were seized with phrensy, and are now come to their senses, prove by their cure how effectual the intercession of martyrs is.” He closes this sermon with a devout and confident address to the martyrs. See Photius, Biblioth. Cod. 271; St. Austerius’s fourteen homilies, published by F. Combefis, in Auctar. Bibl. Patr. t. 1, p. 1, with extracts from several others in Photius, loc. cit., and seven homilies on the Psalms, published by Cotelier, Mon. Grc. vol. 2, p. 1. See also Tillem. t. 10; Du Pin, vol. 3, p. 53; Fabricius, Bibl. Gr.1. 5, c. 28, NAK 8, vol. 8, p. 607; Oudin, t. 1, p. 892; Ceillier, &c.

OCTOBER 31 — ST. QUINTIN, MARTYR

From his Acts in Surius, written in a good style, before St. Eligius’s time, but later than Nestorius. The author assures us, that he compiled them from a history written by one who was present at the first translation of the martyr’s relics, fifty-five years after his death. But the author has added certain circumstances from popular traditions, with a fertur; which are not of equal authority. Other Acts of St. Quintin, but of an inferior stamp, are given us by Claude Hemere, in his History of the Town of St. Quintin’s. See Tillemont, t. 4, pp. 433, 436, 700.

A. D. 287.

ST. QUINTIN was a Roman, descended of a senatorian family, and is called by his historian the son of Zeno. Full of zeal for the kingdom of Jesus Christ, and burning with a holy desire to make his powerful name and the mysteries of his love and mercy known among the infidels, he left his country, renounced all prospect of preferment, and, attended by St. Lucian of Beauvais, made his way to Gaul. They preached the faith together in that country till they reached Amiens in Picardy, where they parted. Lucian went to Beauvais, and having sown the seeds of divine faith in the hearts of many, received the crown of martyrdom in that city. St. Quintin stayed at Amiens, endeavoring by his prayers and labors to make that country a portion of our Lord’s inheritance. Desiring nothing so earnestly as to destroy the kingdom of the devil, that the name of God might be glorified he besought the Author of all good, without ceasing, that he would infuse his saving knowledge and holy love into the souls of those to whom he announced the divine law. God made him equally powerful in words and works, and his discourses were authorized and strongly recommended by great numbers of miracles, and illustrated and enforced by a most holy and mortified life. The reward of his charitable labors was the crown of martyrdom, which he received in the beginning of the reign of Maximian Herculeus, who was associated in the empire by Dioclesian, in the year 286. Maximian made Rictius Varus prefect of the prtorium: for though Augustus had appointed but one prtorian prefect to judge causes and receive appeals from all the provinces of the empire, in the reign of Dioclesian, each emperor appointed one, so that there were four prtorian prefects, according to the number of emperors that then reigned together. But Constantine the Great was the first who made this number regular, and determined the districts and jurisdiction of these supreme magistrates of the Roman empire. Rictius Varus, whose hatred of the Christian religion has stored the Martyrology with lists of many illustrious martyrs, seems to have resided at Triers, the metropolis of the Belgic Gaul. But, making a progress into the Second Gaul, when he was near Soissons, he had intelligence of the great progress the Christian faith had made at Amiens, and resolved to cut him off who was the author of this great change. When he arrived at Amiens, he ordered St. Quintin to be seized, thrown into prison, and loaded with chains. The next day the holy preacher was brought before the prefect, who assailed his constancy with promises and threats; and, finding him proof against both, ordered him to be whipped unmercifully, and then confined to a close dungeon without the liberty of receiving either comfort or assistance from the faithful. In two other examinations before the same magistrate, his limbs were stretched with pulleys on the rack till his joints were dislocated; his body was torn with rods of iron wire; boiled pitch and oil were poured on his back, and lighted torches applied to his sides. The holy martyr, strengthened by Him whose cause he defended, remained superior to all the cruel arts of his barbarous persecutor, and preserved a perfect tranquillity of mind in the midst of such torments as filled the spectators with horror.

When Rictius Varus left Amiens, he commanded Quintin to be conducted to the territory of the Veromandui, whither he was directing his course in his return. The capital of that country was called Augusta Veromanduorum. In this city of the Veromandui the prefect made fresh attacks upon the champion of Christ, with threats and promises; and being ashamed to see himself vanquished by his courage and virtue, caused his body to be pierced with two iron wires from the neck to the thighs, and iron nails to be struck under his nails, and in his flesh in many places, particularly into his scull; and, lastly, his head to be cut off. This was executed on the 31st of October, in 287. The martyr’s body was watched by the soldiers till night, and then thrown into the river Somme: but it was recovered by the Christians some days after, and buried on a mountain near the town; fifty-five years after, it was discovered by Eusebia, a devout lady; and a certain blind woman recovered her sight by the sacred relics.1 The knowledge of the place was again lost in the persecution of Julian the Apostate, though a chapel which was built near it remained, when in the beginning of the year 641, St. Eligius, bishop of Noyon and the Vermandois caused the holy relics to be sought; and when they were discovered, together with the great nails with which the body had been pierced, he distributed these nails, the teeth, and hair, in other places, and enclosed the rest of the sacred treasure in a rich shrine of his own work which he placed behind the high altar, as St. Owen relates in his life. A new stately church of St. Quintin was built in the reign of Louis Debonnaire, and another translation of the relics was made on the 25th of October, 825.2 They were removed to Laon for fear of the Normans, but brought back on the 30th of October, 885, and are still kept in the great church, which was in the hands of monks from the time of Ebertran, the first abbot, till these were afterwards dispersed by the inroads of the Normans. In the following age, secular canons were put in possession of this famous church. Another church was built here in the honor of St. Quintin, in the place where his body had been concealed during fifty-five years, in an island in a marsh formed by the river Somme. It became a famous monastery, now in the hands of the Benedictin monks of St. Maur: it is called St. Quintin’s in the Island. St. Quintin’s on the Mountain, a mile from Peronne, is another monastery of the same congregation, founded by Eilbert, brother to Herbert, count of Vermandois, in the seventh century. From the time of the translation of the martyr’s relics in the reign of Louis le Dbonnaire the town has taken the name of St. Quintin’s.*

Martyrdom, when we are called to it, is an homage we owe to God, and a debt due to faith and religion. Happy are they whom God, by a special grace, allows to seal their fidelity to him by their blood! How great is the honor and happiness for a poor mortal man, and a poor sinner to lay down his mean miserable life for Him, who, out of infinite love for us, gave his most precious life! Martyrs are holocausts offered to the divine love and glory. They are witnesses, as the word imports in the original Greek, bearing testimony to the infinite power and goodness of God, in which they place an entire confidence, and to the truth of his holy revealed faith, which they confirm with their blood. No testimony can be more authentic, more glorious to God, more edifying to the faithful, or more convincing to infidels. It is by the constancy of martyrs that our holy religion is established. God was pleased to choose it for one of the means by which he would accomplish this great work. Are we witnesses to God and his holy religion, at least by lives of self-denial, meekness, and sanctity? Or do we not rather by a contrary deportment disgrace his holy church, of which we have the honor to be members, and expose his adorable name to the blasphemies of infidels.

OCTOBER 31 — SAINT WOLFGANG, BISHOP OF RATISBON

Raderus derives this saint’s pedigree from the most illustrious families of Suabia; but the ancient author of his life published by Mabillon assures us, that his parents were of a middle condition in the world. He was a native of Suabia, and at seven years of age was put into the hands of a neighboring virtuous ecclesiastic; but some time after removed to the abbey of Richenaw (in Latin Augia) founded by Charles Martel in 724, near Constance, united in 1536 to the bishopric of Constance. This monastery was at that time a most flourishing school of learning or piety, which furnished many churches with eminent pastors. In this house our saint contracted an intimacy with a young nobleman called Henry, brother to Poppo, bishop of Wurtzburg, who had set up a great school in that city, and engaged an Italian professor, called Stephen, to leave his own country to give lectures there. It was Wolfgang’s earnest desire never to know any other employment but that of Mary, and to spend his life in the contemplation and praises of his Creator. But Henry, who was charmed with his virtue and other great qualifications, could not bear to be separated from him, and prevailed upon him to bear him company to this new school at Wurtzburg. Once when a difficult passage in an author raised a contest among the scholars about the sense, Wolfgang explained it with so much perspicuity and evidence, that in all perplexing difficulties the rest had recourse to him, rather than to the master. This raised in him a jealousy against the saint, and made him many ways persecute him. Wolfgang, by silence, patience, and meekness, made his advantage of all the contradictions and humiliations he met with, thinking no happiness greater than the means and opportunities of subduing his passions, and gaining a complete victory over himself. But observing how easily petty jealousies, envy, resentments, vanity, and other dangerous passions prevailed among both masters and scholars, he lamented to see those who professed themselves lovers of wisdom, so much strangers to it, and more addicted to the meanest and most ungenerous passions of the human mind than the most ignorant and boorish among the common people; so that, perverting their very studies and science, they made them the means, not of virtue, but of sin, and the nourishment of their most dangerous passions, for want of studying to know and perfectly vanquish themselves, without which even the best food of the mind is converted into the worst poison. What can poor scholars do in such a school, but contract from their tender years the contagious spirit of the masters by their example and conversation? The misfortune of others, (which was the more grievous by the usual blindness that attended it,) and the sight of his danger of falling insensibly into the same, served the more to alarm the saint; who was therefore more watchful, and kept the stricter guard over all the motions of his own heart; and whilst, by tender charity, he studied to be blind to the faults of others, he judged and condemned himself the more severely. In the apprehension of his own weakness, he was desirous of finding a holy monastery of mortified religious men, sincerely dead to the world and themselves, whose example might be a spur to him in the necessary duty of dying to himself without dangerous temptations or trials. But such a society is not to be found in this life; it is even necessary that our patience, meekness, and humility be exercised by others here, that they may be made perfect. Nor is there any company of saints in which trials fail. This is the very condition of our hire in the divine service, and of our apprenticeship to heaven. We can never be like the angels and saints; we can never bear the image of God, unless by humility, patience, and meekness, we learn perfectly to die to ourselves; nor are these virtues to be learned, or the spirit of Christ to be put on, but by bearing well contradictions. Henry perceived this inclination of Wolfgang for a monastic life, and engaged him to serve his neighbor; and being himself chosen archbishop of Triers in 956, he pressed the saint to accompany him thither.

Wolfgang could not be prevailed upon to take upon him any other charge than that of a school for children; and afterwards that of a community of ecclesiastics, with the title of dean; in both which posts he succeeded to a miracle, and to the edification of the whole country, in planting the spirit of Christ in those that were committed to his care. Upon the death of the archbishop of Triers he made some stay with Bruno, archbishop of Cologne, but could not be prevailed on to accept of any bishopric, and retired soon after to the monastery of Enfilden, governed at that time by George, an Englishman, who had left his own country to serve God in silence and mortification. The abbot soon found the reputation of Wolfgang to be inferior to his merit, and appointed him director of the school of the monastery, which, under his care, became the most flourishing in the whole country. St. Ulric, bishop of Ausburg, in whose diocese this abbey stood, ordained St. Wolfgang priest, in spite of all the opposition his humility could form. With his ordination the holy man received an apostolical spirit, and having obtained his abbot’s leave, in 972, went with a select number of monks to preach the faith to the Hungarians. The success of this undertaking seemed not sufficiently to correspond to his zeal; but the bishop of Passaw detained him some time, and, by a private message recommended him to the emperor Otho II. as a person of all others the best qualified to fill the see of Ratisbon, which was then vacant. To put a cheat upon the saint’s humility, the emperor ordered him to repair to Ratisbon as if it had been for some other affairs. When he arrived there, the archbishop of Salzburg, and several bishops of the province were ready to receive him, and to see the election duly performed by the clergy and people. He was then put into safe hands, and conducted to the emperor at Frankfort, who gave him the investiture of the temporalities, though the saint entreated him on his knees to allow him to return to his monastery. Being sent back to Ratisbon he was consecrated and enthroned. He never quitted the monastic habit, and practised all the austerities of a religious life when in possession of the episcopal dignity. The first thing he did in it, after an excellent regulation of his own conduct and household, was to settle a thorough reformation among all his clergy, and in all the monasteries of his diocese, especially the nunneries of Obets Munster and Nider Munster; disorders in the sanctuary being of all others the most pernicious, and of the most fatal influence. He was indefatigable in preaching, and, being a man of prayer, possessed powerfully the art of touching the hearts of his hearers. Every other duty of his station he discharged with extraordinary vigilance and fidelity during twenty-two years’ administration. The poor had always the greatest share in his table and revenues, though in his profuse charities he seemed to conceal from his own left hand what his right hand gave. The time which was not taken up in business, he consecrated entirely to the strictest silence and retirement; and he employed a considerable part of the nights in devout prayer. Not content with this, he sometimes retired into some remote cell for a time and once lay a long time concealed in a wilderness, that by heavenly contemplation he might repair and nourish his own soul. Good part of Bohemia being part of his diocese, he found it too extensive, gave up a great part of his revenue to settle a bishopric in that country, and procured St. Adelbert to be placed in it. Henry, duke of Bavaria, held this good prelate in the highest veneration, and intrusted to him the education of his four children: these were, St. Henry, afterwards emperor of Germany, Bruno, who died bishop of Ausburg, Gisela, queen of Hungary, and Brigit, who, renouncing the world, died abbess at Ratisbon. The virtue and eminent qualifications of all these princes and princesses made many say: “Find saints for masters, and you will have holy emperors.” We ought to pray that Christ send us such holy prelates, and we shall see the primitive splendor of the church restored. He was taken ill in a journey of charity, and died at Pupping, in Austria on the 31st of October, 994.* His body was brought to Ratisbon, and deposited in St. Emmeran’s church. His name was enrolled among the saints by Leo IX. in 1052, upon the testimony of many miracles, and his relics enshrined by order of the same pope. See his life written by a disciple in Mabillon, Sc. v. Ben. p. 812; Hundius, Hist. Eccl. Metrop, Salzburgens; Aventin. Ann. Boior. Raderus in Bavaria Sancta, t. 1, p. 94.

OCTOBER 31 — ST. FOILLAN, M

St. Ultan, St. Fursey, and St. Foillan, were three brothers, sons of Fyltan, king of Munster in Ireland. Fursey embraced a monastic life in the islands, and, after some years, returning home, persuaded Ultan, who was the eldest brother, and Foillon also, to renounce the world. St. Fursey having travelled into England, and built the monastery of Knobersburg in the kingdom of the East-Angles, invited Foillan thither from Ireland, and left him abbot of that house. After the death of St. Fursey, which happened at Peronne about the year 650, SS. Ultan and Foillan went into France. Some authors say St. Foillan travelled to Rome, and was made regionary bishop. If this be true, at least he soon returned to St. Ultan, and they went both together from Cambray to Nivelle in Brabant, where St. Gertrude governed a great nunnery, which her parents, B. Pepin of Landen, and B. Ita, had founded, with a neighboring monastery of men. They both stayed here some time, till St. Gertrude, after the death of her mother, in 652, gave to St. Ultan a territory to build an hospital and monastery, which is called Fosse, situate between the Meuse and the Sambre, in the diocese of Maestricht, now of Liege. St. Gertrude detained St. Foillan at Nivelle, where he instructed the nuns, and preached to the people in the country. He was going to pay a visit to his brother St. Ultan at Fosse in 655, when he and three companions were assassinated by robbers, or infidels, in the forest of Sonec, now Charbonniere, in Hainault, on the 31st of October. His relics are kept with veneration in the church of Fosse, formerly served by monks, now by secular canons. St. Ultan governed the monasteries of Fosse and Mont-Saint-Quentin many years, and died on the 1st of May, towards the year 686. See Bede, Hist.1. 3, c. 19, and his ancient life published by Dom Menard, Addit. ad. Martyr. Benedict. p. 900. Le Cointe, ad an. 654, 656, et 686; Molanus, Mirus, and Usher, Antiqu. Brit.