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LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY 
 
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 BY THE 
 
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INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Farmer, mason, baker, rope-maker, or whatever else 
 you be, who, obliged as you are to gain your bread 
 with the sweat of your brow, seek a momentary 
 recreation in the reading of these pages, you surely 
 are not one of those who see in their ordinary labour 
 an obstacle to rise to the pinnacle of Christian sanc- 
 tity. If, however, you unfortunately be a prey to so 
 pernicious an error, shake it off, for God’s sake, for 
 your state of life, humble as it may appear in the 
 eyes of the world, is very different, indeed, from what 
 the mortal enemy of your soul represents it. The 
 Lord in His ineffable designs, guided by His loving 
 and paternal providence, had it laid out for vou from 
 
IV 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 all eternity as the most suitable means for you to 
 attain the degree of sanctity to which He desired to 
 raise you. 
 
 This world, that it present to our eyes all the 
 beauty its Divine Maker intended for His glory or 
 the manifestation of His incomparable perfections, 
 stands in no less need of the trade you follow than of 
 the sceptre swayed by monarchs. Each one’s glory, 
 then, is not exactly in the dignity of the position he 
 holds, but in filling it according to the beneficent 
 plans of the Creator. The world is compared to a 
 great theatre, in which is represented the sublime 
 drama of the divine glorification. In it all mortals 
 are at once spectators and actors, and they should 
 perform the part entrusted to them by that sovereign 
 Director who knows thoroughly well the talents and 
 capacity of each. And just as if one act the part of 
 a servant better than another does that of an em- 
 peror, the latter is hissed by the audience, whilst the 
 former receives applause from all quarters, so God, 
 the wisest and most impartial of judges, does not so 
 much regard in us the personage we represent — one 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 V 
 
 a beggar, another a landlord, this one a religious, 
 that one a secular — as He does the perfection with 
 which we discharge our duty ; and it is according to 
 the latter He rewards us when death drops the cur- 
 tain, and the scene of this world closes for mortal 
 man. 
 
 These are the consoling truths which Catholicity 
 teaches us. In the eyes of men, who do not pene- 
 trate beyond the surface, those who occupy brilliant 
 positions are alone worthy of praise and admiration ; 
 but in the eyes of Grod, who sounds the depths of 
 the human heart, and gives to each thing its just 
 and true value, the humble who discharge with 
 fidelity their respective duties, though never so 
 despicable, have a claim on equal estimation. He 
 is an impartial and just Judge, and whilst in His 
 divine tribunal He reproves and condemns all those 
 who, puffed up with the dignity of their office, forget 
 to discharge its duties, He at the same time ennobles 
 and glorifies those who, in their laborious toil, know 
 how to raise their eyes and their heart to Him whose 
 glory it is to be called the Father of the poor. 
 
VI 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Courage, then, Christian workman, for you can be 
 a saint, and a great saint, if you co-operate with the 
 graces the Lord will pour out on your soul according 
 to the measure of your correspondence. Thus only 
 shall you form part of that royal people, who in the 
 kingdom of glory all reign with Jesus Christ. A 
 sweet and grand thing it is to die in defence of reli- 
 gion and country, but be not deceived by subversive 
 doctrines, which sanctify anti-Catholic rebellion ; 
 listen not to the voice of those who exaggerate your 
 dignity by deifying labour, for they are only homi- 
 cidal sirens, who try to decoy you into becoming food 
 for powder, that they may make a stepping-stone of 
 your corpse to the employment and dignity they 
 ambition. They apparently glorify you in their 
 writings and speeches, but in reality they lower you ; 
 for they make your noble labour daily more irksome 
 to you, and subject you to the slavery of filthy 
 passions. Only in Catholicity does labour find its 
 true grandeur, for in it, and only in it, does labour 
 serve the real Christian as a means to satisfy the 
 debts contracted with the divine justice, and as a 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Vil 
 
 merit to gain eternal glory. Every drop of sweat 
 you lose in your Christian labour will be converted 
 in heaven into a pearl to adorn your eternal crown. 
 Who wonders now that the ancient Catalans carved 
 on their tombstones the implements of their arts — 
 this one the mould, that one the scissors, another the 
 shuttle— as signs of true and imperishable nobility ? 
 Love, then, with holy pride the profession to which 
 God has called you ; labour to discharge its duties 
 as the Almighty expects from you, and you will 
 reach a degree of sanctity much higher than you 
 dream of. 
 
 To convince you, not by argument, but by expe- 
 rience, I am going to place before you the examples 
 of illustrious Christians, who in the midst of occu- 
 pations analogous to yours, and perhaps employed in 
 labour more lowly and painful, gained the Heart of 
 God, and conquered in heaven a kingdom and glory 
 superior to that which surrounds many monarchs 
 who also died adorned with divine grace. Study 
 them as you should, and endeavour to faithfully 
 follow their edifying examples. The reading of the 
 
yin 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Acts of the Martyrs, which took place in the Church 
 on their feast days, in the early ages of Christianity, 
 animated the faithful to give their lives for Jesus 
 Christ. All, except the sick and convalescent, 
 heard them standing, to indicate their readiness to 
 follow in the footsteps of those glorious heroes. Read 
 with advantage, then, the lives I offer you. I have 
 taken them from the writings of the Bdlandists, 
 Ruinart, Butler, and Baronius, or from the docu- 
 ments they quote ; and in writings of this sort each 
 of these authorities is worth a hundred. 
 
 And that you may see that the heroes I offer for 
 your consideration copied the model of all the pre- 
 destined, I will just relate the principal acts of our 
 Divine Saviour, who, for the honour and encourage- 
 ment of the poor, chose to he born, not among 
 emperors and kings, as He could have been if He 
 only wished, and as His glorious ancestors were, but 
 of lowly artisans, who had to moisten their bread 
 with the sweat of their brow. Follow in His 
 footsteps like His renowned servants, and you 
 will be happy in this life, as far as a poor exile can 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 IX 
 
 be, and you will reign in the other for an endless 
 eternity. 
 
 To avoid confusion, I will divide the life of Jesus 
 into twelve chapters, so that you can easily spread 
 the reading of it over the twelve months of the year. 
 I will also distribute the lives of the saints by 
 months, selecting, among the many I might choose 
 from, only four for the four Sundays of each month, 
 adding an appendix to cover all the Sundays of the 
 year. Besides, to keep up the memory of the heroic 
 acts of other men famous in virtue, but not yet 
 canonised, I select twelve Spaniards for the greater 
 part, one for each month. I have taken their 
 history, sometimes from their funeral orations, and 
 sometimes from biographies written by contemporary 
 authors. 
 
 Let us begin with the blessing of God and 
 under the protection of the Blessed Virgin and St. 
 Joseph. 
 
NOTE. 
 
 The editor has taken the liberty of making some slight changes in 
 the author’s plan. In the original the history of the Holy Family 
 was given entire in a continuous form : it is now divided into twelve 
 parts, corresponding to the twelve months of the year, to each of 
 which a portion is attached. He has also made a change in the 
 order of succession of the “ Lives,” for the purpose of making each 
 month contain as nearly as possible the same amount of matter, if 
 published in separate numbers. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 St. Peter, Tax-gatherer and Cook, . 
 
 
 
 
 3 
 
 Blessed Facius, Silversmith, .... 
 
 
 
 
 11 
 
 St. Nicephorus, Artisan, .... 
 
 
 
 
 21 
 
 Blessed Gentil, Shoemaker’s "Wife, . 
 
 
 
 
 27 
 
 Venerable John Francis of Palma, Mat-maker, 
 
 
 
 
 40 
 
 Blessed Margaret, Servant in an Inn, 
 
 
 
 
 46 
 
 SS. Crispin and Crispinian, .... 
 
 
 
 
 51 
 
 St. Severas, Wool-weaver, .... 
 
 
 
 
 67 
 
 St. Cuthman, Shepherd, .... 
 
 
 
 
 71 
 
 St. Serenus, Gardener, Martyr, 
 
 
 
 
 78 
 
 St^Margaret of Cortona, Dressmaker, 
 
 
 
 
 86 
 
 Venerable Elizabeth Pobar, Peasant and Housekeeper, 
 
 
 
 
 99 
 
 Venerable Maryanne Villalba, Lacemaker, . 
 
 
 
 , 
 
 108 
 
 Blessed Peter of Sienna, Comb-maker, 
 
 
 
 
 115 
 
 Blessed Hypolitus Galanti, Silk-weaver, 
 
 
 
 
 131 
 
 Blessed Nicholas de Flue, Farmer, Grazier, and Soldier, 
 
 
 
 
 136 
 
 St. Menignius, Fuller, .... 
 
 
 
 
 167 
 
 St. Zita, Servant, ..... 
 
 
 
 
 172 
 
 St. Benedict Joseph Labre, Beggar, . 
 
 
 , 
 
 , 
 
 195 
 
 St. Liduvina, Night-watchman’s Daughter, 
 
 
 
 
 211 
 
 Venerable Geronima Dolz, Servant, Dressmaker, and Schoolmistress, 
 
 . 
 
 229 
 
 St. Isidore and St. Mary, Farmers, . 
 
 
 
 
 259 
 
 Blessed Sebastian de Aparicio, Gardener, Koad-maker, 
 
 and Carman, 
 
 
 269 
 
 St. Godrick; Peddler and Hermit, 
 
 
 
 , 
 
 282 
 
 8t. Boniface, Steward, .... 
 
 
 
 
 287 
 
 Venerable Nuncio Sulpricio, Blacksmith’s Apprentice, 
 
 
 
 
 294 
 
 St. Martin, Tailor, ..... 
 
 
 
 
 306 
 
 8t. John of God, Bookseller, .... 
 
 
 
 
 323 
 
 8t. Germana Cousin, Shepherdess, . 
 
 
 
 
 341 
 
 Venerable Anna Maria Taigi, Housemaid and Seamstress, 
 
 
 
 356 
 
Xll 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Readings prom the History of the Holy Family. 
 
 page 
 
 Espousals of Mary — Birth and Adoration of Jesus ... 55 
 
 From the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple to His Baptism, . . 122 
 
 From the Baptism of Jesus to His Expulsion of the Sellers from the 
 
 Temple, . . . . . . . . . 185 
 
 From the time that Jesus drove the Sellers from the Temple to the 
 
 Sermon on the Mount, ....... 249 
 
 The Sermon on the Mount, . . . . . . .314 
 
 From the Sermon on the Mount to His sending His Disciples to Preach . 378 
 
LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 jiracs I. 
 
 ST. PETER, TAX-GATHERER AND COOK. 
 
 I. 
 
 i About the year 530, in the time of the Emperor Jus- 
 tinian, there lived in Africa a man who was hard, cruel, 
 and heartless to the poor, and was justly called, by way 
 ! of nickname, “ Old Stingy.” This was Peter the tax- 
 gatherer, who iu the course of time was to become the 
 I model of Christian collectors and cooks. Admirable is 
 1 the Lord in his works, but in the conversion of this iron 
 heart He was, in our estimation, superlatively admirable. 
 One wintry day, several beggars were standing in the 
 sunshine to warm their bodies, benumbed with cold, and 
 they began to talk of the houses which gave them alms, 
 praising and blessing their owners, and at the same time 
 cursing those who were hard to the poor. Round the 
 conversation went till it reached the stingy taxgatherer, 
 the hardest of the hard. One said to another : “Is there 
 I one of you ever received from the miserable hog a crumb 
 
4 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 of bread, or even a good word ?” “I tell you wbat it 
 is,” cried one of them ; i( I bet you what you like, I get 
 an alms from him this very day.” The bet was made, 
 and off went the beggar to Old Stingy’s house ; but he 
 did not find him in, and had to wait till he came home. 
 It happened as a coincidence that at the very time he 
 did arrive the baker came with fresh bread. When Old 
 Stingy heard the beggar asking alms so earnestly and 
 persistently, he got angry, and finding no stone at hand, 
 he seized one of the cakes and flung it at him. The 
 beggar, you may be sure, did not refuse the gift from 
 heaven ; but picking up the cake, he ran to his com- 
 panions, elated with joy at winning the bet. 
 
 Scarcely two days had passed after this providential 
 incident, when Peter was laid up with a serious illness, 
 and was on the point of death. In this sickness the 
 Father of mercies placed before his eyes the miserable 
 state of his soul, hanging by a thread between heaven 
 and the abyss of hell. Falling into a deep sleep, he 
 thought he was standing before the divine tribunal to 
 give a strict account of his injustice and sins. A ter- 
 rifying scene was suddenly presented before him. In 
 the middle of an immense hall a large and finely-balanced 
 beam was hanging, in which all his actions were to be 
 weighed. On the left was a crowd of accusers, 
 black as pitch, their eyes flashing fire, whose very 
 look made him shiver with fear ; and on the right 
 were some handsome youths, whose heavenly faces 
 commanded veneration and respect. The former began 
 to fill their scale with the innumerable and grievous 
 faults committed by the unfortunate taxgatherer ; 
 whilst the latter, seeing they had no counterpoise to put 
 in theirs, were greatly afflicted, and sadly said : “ And 
 has he nothing at all to show in his behalf ?” No doubt 
 the poor collector was scared when he clearly saw the 
 end of all his riches, honours, and worldly pleasures; and 
 
ST. PETER, TAXGATHERER. 
 
 5 
 
 was thoroughly alarmed when he thought the sentence 
 was about being pronounced, and he was to be hurled 
 into the flames of hell. “We have not a single thing,” 
 said one of the youths, “ to put in our scale, unless a 
 cake that he threw at a beggar.” Well, they pitched it 
 in eagerly, and with its pressure the two scales were 
 balanced. Then one of the beautiful, angelic youths said 
 to Old Stingy : “Away now and add to this cake, for it 
 has not the weight of charity ; otherwise you will fall 
 into the hands of your neighbours there.” Then the 
 vision disappeared ; and Peter, entering into himself, and 
 believing that it was no mere dream, inasmuch as they 
 charged him with all he committed in his whole life, and 
 with many things he had completely forgotten, resolved 
 to change his way of life, and to lay up good works, 
 which alone are of any avail in that supreme and final 
 judgment. “ Ah ! ” said he, “ if a cake thrown in anger 
 was of such use to me, what will be my reward if with 
 a good will I give all I possess to the poor ? ” And he 
 promised to do so, and kept his promise. As soon as 
 he got well and was free from his sickness, he purified 
 his soul of all its faults in the waters of penance — those 
 very faults his enemies had accused him of — and gene- 
 rously distributed his riches among the needy, never 
 again to be blinded by their false brilliancy. Heroic 
 generosity ! — a generosity unknown in our age of boasted 
 philanthropy, but so poor in that disinterested charity 
 which makes us call the ragged and indigent our brethren. 
 So sincerely did our penitent apply himself to the fulfil- 
 ment of the evangelical counsels, that from the moment 
 he formed his magnanimous resolution, he was never 
 again guilty of any fraud or imposition in the collection 
 of the taxes, and was always indulgent and liberal to the 
 needy, and amiable and charitable to all. 
 
6 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 II. 
 
 it happened that one morning, when, as usual, he 
 was going to attend to his business, he unexpectedly 
 met with a shipwrecked sailor, who had just escaped 
 from the fury of the waves, and was lying naked on the 
 beach. Peter, with bowels of mercy, assisted the poor 
 man, and taking off his inside coat gave it to him, and 
 then the poor fellow got up and went his way. The 
 sailor was ashamed to wear such a dress, and he soon 
 found means to get rid of it and give it to a shopkeeper 
 to sell. It so happened that our good taxgatherer, when 
 he did his business, had to pass by this shop ; and when 
 he saw his coat, was saddened beyond measure. When 
 he got home he would not eat a bit, but shut himself 
 up in a room, and, weeping bitterly, said to himself : 
 “ Even the poor of Jesus Christ, miserable wretch that 
 I am, don’t think me worth remembering ! ” The sadness 
 of his thoughts, and his very affliction, caused him to 
 fall into a quiet sleep. Then there appeared to him a 
 Person of celestial beauty, whose countenance shone 
 like the sun; there was a brilliant cross over his head, 
 and among his rich garments could be seen the coat the 
 taxgatherer had given to the sailor. This good Person 
 turned to him, and said : “ Peter, what are you crying 
 for?” “Ah! my good Lord*,” answered he, weeping, 
 ‘ I give generously to the poor of the wealth you have 
 bestowed on me ; but when they get anything, they go 
 and sell it, perhaps for the purpose of offending you the 
 more.” Then Jesus, opening his garment, said : “ Do 
 you know this ? Well, I have the honour of wearing 
 what you gave me, and I thank you very much ; for I 
 was shivering with cold, and you helped me; I was 
 naked, and you covered me.” Then Peter joyfully 
 
ST. PETER, TAXGATHERER. 
 
 7 
 
 awoke, and, praising the poor, enthusiastically ex- 
 claimed : “ With God’s help, since the poor are the 
 representatives of Jesus Christ, I will not die till I have 
 the honour of being one of them ! ” Our Divine Master 
 long ago said : “ Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs 
 is the kingdom of heaven.” St. Bernard calls attention 
 to the fact that Jesus does not say will be, but is the 
 kingdom of heaven ; for those who sincerely renounce 
 all the riches so ambitioned by the world, not only enjoy 
 in this life an ineffable peace, becoming the blessed in 
 heaven, but can lay claim to the kingdom of glory pur- 
 chased with the earthly goods which they despise for 
 Jesus Christ ; and He improves their lot with respect to 
 the children of the world, whom He endows with earthly 
 things, which are here to-day and away to-morrow ; but 
 the right to the kingdom of the just He reserves for the 
 poor of spirit, as the first-born sons of God. And they 
 are perfectly at ease, because free from the weight of 
 riches which attach the heart to this miserable exile ; and 
 contenting themselves with what is precisely necessary 
 for their journey through life, they hasten on to that 
 blessed land where lies their real treasure. To this 
 poverty of spirit, so praised and beloved by Jesus, are 
 due the illustrious victories and triumphs which the 
 saints gained over the devil ; to this nakedness and re- 
 nunciation of the things of earth they owe their wonder- 
 ful progress in all kinds of virtue. For, as St. Gregory 
 thoughtfully remarks, the day the devil finds in the 
 soul no affection for things here below, that day he is 
 conquered, for he has nothing to lay hold on. “ And so, 
 if you wish,” says the saint, “ to wrestle manfully with 
 the devil, that he may not throw you to the ground, 
 divest yourself of all worldly things, which are like the 
 clothes of the body which the opponent lays hold of to 
 bring his adversary down.” 
 
 This resolution was taken by our saint, illuminated by 
 
8 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 that mysterious dream, and nothing could prevent him 
 from carrying out his purpose. When Peter brought to 
 mind the torments suffered by those condemned to eternal 
 flames under the yoke of the infernal spirits, and the in- 
 effable glory of the just, who, n the company of the 
 angels, bless and praise the King of heaven for all eter- 
 nity, all the labours of this world appeared as nothing, 
 so that they freed him from those atrocious pains and 
 gained for him the joys of the blessed. In order, then, 
 to make this great business more and more secure, he 
 made up his mind to divest himself of all, that he might 
 walk without tripping in the path of the divine com- 
 mandments. So one day he called a slave, whom he 
 employed as clerk, and said to him : “ My dear boy, I 
 am going to tell you a secret ; and, remember, if you let 
 it out, or do not accept my proposal, I will sell you to 
 the pagans.” When he got the slave’s consent, he gave 
 him ten pounds weight of gold, and said : “ Take me to 
 Jerusalem, and there sell me as a slave to some Christian, 
 and give the price to the poor.” The honest clerk refused 
 to do such a thing ; but when threatened again with being 
 sold to the pagans, he obeyed. Peter disguised himself, 
 and off went the two to the Holy City, where Jesus had 
 died, being made a slave for love of us. 
 
 When they reached the Holy Places, and were passing 
 through the streets of Jerusalem, the slave met a silver- 
 smith with whom he was acquainted, and addressed him 
 thus : “ Buy from me a first-rate slave I have here with 
 me. You would say he is of noble family.” “ How can I 
 buy him,” replied Zoilus, for that was his name, “ when 
 I have not the means to pay for him ?” “I will give him 
 to you on credit,” said the clerk ; “ don’t let a good thing 
 like this pass you, for you will find God will bless you 
 through his diligence and Christian virtues.” They made 
 the bargain at thirty pieces of money, and the silversmith 
 became the master of the ragged slave. The clerk asked 
 
ST. PETER, TAXGATHEEER. 
 
 9 
 
 the purchaser to keep the contract secret, and, when he 
 could pay, to give the price to the poor, without de- 
 frauding a farthing. When the clerk had faithfully- 
 complied with his undertaking, he retired in liberty to 
 Constantinople, wondering at the extraordinary ways by 
 which the Lord was conducting his servant. 
 
 Now we have our rich taxgatherer transformed into 
 a poor slave for love of Jesus Christ, and bringing down 
 on his owner the blessings of heaven with his prayers 
 and heroic virtues. If masters only knew how important 
 to them it is to have servants who are good and fervent 
 Christians, not only in the performance of their duties, 
 but in procuring the blessing of the Almighty on the 
 work of their hands, they surely would not look for 
 wretches without the fear of Cod, who shun their regular 
 toil, and steal all they think they can safely lay their 
 hands on. Peter was put in charge of the kitchen as 
 cook, and he attended table so well, and kept everything 
 so neat and clean, that you would say he had never done 
 anything else in his life — though, of course, he never was 
 employed at such duties before. Nor did he, for all that, 
 neglect the pious exercises of a good Christian, nor did 
 his numerous occupations prevent him from giving some 
 time to prayer. He also practised continual mortifica- 
 tion, ever keeping his eyes fixed on the glory of God 
 and the eternal reward he hoped for. Peter’s humility, 
 / goodness, silence, and diligence brought down showers 
 of benedictions on the family ; but his fellow-servants 
 mocked him as a fool and maltreated him; and his 
 master, seeing all this, wanted to set him free, retaining 
 him in his house and treating him as a brother. But 
 Peter would not hear of it, and besought him to allow 
 him to carry that cross, which he appreciated above all 
 the things of earth. If he sometimes felt the burden a 
 little heavy, he was not without heavenly consolations 
 to lighten his load. Many a time, when he felt bowed 
 
10 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 down by the weight of tribulation, the Divine Pastor 
 appeared to him, clothed with the coat he had given to 
 the shipwrecked sailor, and, showing him the thirty 
 pieces for which he was sold, would say : “Be not sad, 
 brother Peter, for you see I have here the price of your 
 slavery and all you are suffering for Me. Courage, then, 
 and be constant in your humiliation till you are dis- 
 covered.” Peter was animated by these visits to labour 
 and suffer for Jesus Christ, and left no stone unturned 
 to copy the example of Jesus crucified. 
 
 He was contentedly pursuing his ordinary course, 
 when one day some dealers in old silver went to visit 
 the Holy Places, and put up in the house of Peter’s 
 master. During dinner, when he was serving at table, 
 the guests began to look sharply at him, and then look 
 again, and at last one said : “ How very like Peter the 
 taxgatherer is this butler ! ” The holy slave hid his 
 face as far as possible, for the guests were not unknown 
 to him ; but the conviction growing stronger on them, 
 they said to the silversmith: “Zoilus, if we are not 
 greatly mistaken, you have no common personage in 
 your service.” They did not, however, venture to say 
 it for certain, for his duties and mortifications had 
 changed Peter considerably. But in the end one of 
 them, regarding him still more attentively, exclaimed : 
 “ It is undoubtedly he ! No wonder we missed him so 
 long ! ” 
 
 When the humble servant found he was discovered, 
 he dropped the plates and ran to the door to escape. 
 There was a deaf-mute at the door, and the saint, with- 
 out thinking, said, with authority : “In the name of 
 God, open the door for me.” And the deaf-mute heard 
 and answered: “Yes, sir.” And when the door was 
 opened, the servant of God was off on the instant. When 
 the deaf-mute found himself miraculously cured, he ran 
 to the dining-room, and cried : “ Master, master ! ! ! ” 
 
BLESSED FACTUS. 
 
 11 
 
 They were all astonished at hearing him speak ; and 
 then he added : “ The cook has escaped. . . . He must 
 be a great servant of God, who could give me my speech 
 so suddenly ! ” Out they ran in search of the fugitive 
 saint ; but all in vain, for he had disappeared. Peter 
 retired to Constantinople, to pass the rest of his days 
 there in obscurity. We know not what examples of 
 virtue he gave there ; for what we have told is all that 
 is left us by St. John the Almoner, as it is related in his 
 life ; but undoubtedly, after filling one scale with good 
 works, and emptying the other by penance, he went to 
 heaven to receive from Jesus the hundred-fold of the 
 fleeting goods he had lent to the poor, and now trans- 
 formed into lasting and eternal treasures. The Greek 
 Church celebrates his feast on the 20th of January. 
 
 BLESSED EACIUS, SILVERSMITH. 
 
 I. 
 
 At the end of the twelfth century was born, in Verona, 
 the blessed Facius, celebrated for his skill in the art of 
 silver-working, and more renowned still for his heroic 
 virtues. We know not what his morals were in the 
 agitated period of youth, in which are laid the founda- 
 tions either of virtues which will adorn a riper age, or 
 
12 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 of vices which will accompany gray hairs to the grave. 
 But when we consider that from his earliest days the 
 Lord laid on him the cross of tribulation, making him 
 the butt of envy and the persecutions of implacable 
 enemies, it is not hard to conjecture that from his first 
 years he must have given marked proofs of exemplary 
 and Christian conduct. And, indeed, he had scarcely 
 begun to act a part in the world, when he was attacked 
 bitterly by rivals, who gave him not a moment’s 
 rest till they obliged him to abandon his native soil and 
 seek an asylum in the city of Cremona. This occurred 
 about the year 1226. 
 
 Soon he made himself known in his new home by his 
 ardent piety and extraordinary love for the poor, whom 
 he venerated as the predilect children of Jesus Christ. 
 Never did he complain of having to earn his bread with 
 the sweat of his brow : on the contrary, he gave God 
 thanks for it, because in his labour he recognised an 
 efficacious means of satisfying for his sins, and dis- 
 covered a rich vein of celestial treasures, with which to 
 secure for himself and enhance an imperishable crown. 
 The proof of this is the apathy with which he regarded 
 all the goods of earth. Easy it were for him to heap up 
 fleeting riches to sweeten the bitterness of this exile ; 
 but such was his disinterestedness and charity, such his 
 piety and zeal for the splendour of the sacred ceremonies, 
 that whatever he economised from his earnings, by cut- 
 ting down all unnecessary expense, he either divided 
 among the poor or gave to the Church for the greater 
 solemnity of divine worship. Eew imitators of such 
 edifying examples are met with nowadays ; on the con- 
 trary, not a few ignorant people, seduced by men without 
 faith or religion, or addicted to that ghost of religion 
 called Protestantism, condemn all ornament and splen- 
 dour in the temples and religious functions, as if man 
 were a pure spirit, and could not foment his piety with 
 
BLESSED FACIUS. 
 
 13 
 
 that exterior majesty and magnificence which speak to 
 the senses, nor offer to God a tribute of gratitude with 
 the very gold he received from his liberal hands. Those 
 strange people might, perhaps, be pardonable if they 
 applied to their own houses the same rule they apply to 
 the temple of the Most High. But what a difference ! 
 Dwelling in sumptuous palaces, in which all kinds of 
 costly adornment vie with the rich furniture and spa- 
 cious salons and magnificent gardens, and all sorts of 
 comfort, to the mockery of the poor, who have not a 
 bite of bread to put in their mouth ; they pretend to 
 exile from the house of God every sacred ornament, and 
 even the very images of the saints, whose mute language 
 invites the faithful to practise generosity to the poor and 
 offer consolation to the afflicted. Such was not the 
 conduct of David, who complained to Nathan of living 
 in a house of cedar, while the Ark of the Testament was 
 lodged in a tent covered with rich skins. Nor was it 
 the example bequeathed us by our most celebrated 
 monarchs, and the nobles most distinguished for their 
 Christian virtues. Mercy to the poor has always har- 
 monised with magnificence in divine worship ; and when 
 the latter is extinguished in the human heart, the former 
 also suffers loss. Hence these two virtues were ever 
 growing in the heart of Facius, and caused him to be 
 loved by all who knew him. Even the very city, highly 
 edified by the examples of his piety and generosity, con- 
 sidered itself honoured in appointing him its almoner. 
 The saint accepted with pleasure this merciful charge, 
 because it gave loose rein to the charity which inflamed 
 his heart. 
 
 Although with the fruits of his labour and the exercise 
 of his office he was promoting the divine honour among 
 his fellow-men, yet this was not enough to satisfy the 
 noble aspirations of the fervent silversmith, who, in order 
 to make his art serve the glory of God more directly, 
 
14 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 employed not a few hours of his leisure in making beau- 
 tiful sacred ornaments for the service of the altar. As 
 works of no slight merit, and as relics of the holy artist, 
 the cathedral could show several productions of the ser- 
 vant of God, among which were a beautiful crown, and 
 cross, and a silver chalice, which were respected by the 
 flames when a terrible fire melted or reduced to ashes 
 all the sacred treasures of that august temple. Thus did 
 our good silversmith pass the flower of his years, beloved 
 by God for his faithful correspondence to the inspirations 
 of divine grace, and admired by men for his Christian 
 amiability and sweetness. But content as he was in 
 these holy occupations, he could not put out of his mind 
 the recollection of his enemies, not from a spirit of ven- 
 geance, so opposed to the laws of the Gospel, but from 
 a lively desire, which was bubbling in his heart, to be 
 reconciled to them and press them to his bosom. 
 
 II. 
 
 Our good Christian, then, was anxious to make friends 
 with those who had persecuted him with such obstinacy 
 and bitterness, and thought that perhaps time had soft- 
 ened their hearts ; and so he made up his mind to return 
 to his own country, at that time divided into contending 
 factions. But our virtuous workman was mistaken; 
 for his adversaries, availing themselves of the chance, 
 calumniated him to the Scaligers, who governed the city 
 and were at the head of one of the parties. And so, 
 when he least dreamt of it, the defenceless silversmith 
 was traitorously surprised and cast into jail. The servant 
 of God was not depressed by this unexpected misfortune, 
 
BLESSED FACIUS. 
 
 15 
 
 but submitting with Christian resignation, pardoned bis 
 enemies from his heart, and acknowledged in it the hand 
 of God, who paternally disposes everything to the advan- 
 tage of our souls. However, his ardent charity did not 
 allow him to content himself with his own spiritual con- 
 solation and improvement ; but as a zealous promoter of 
 the divine glory, urged him, besides blessing the Lord 
 for this efficacious means of purifying his soul in the 
 crucible of tribulation, and acquiring merit, to employ 
 all his efforts to help and console his companions in 
 misfortune. Never was heard from his lips a complaint 
 or murmur against those who so unjustly laid that heavy 
 yoke on him ; on the contrary, always glad and contented 
 himself, he infused into all the prisoners a Christian 
 spirit to suffer for their sins. 
 
 The Omnipotent, who exalts the humble and humbles 
 the proud, glorified his servant by the very means his 
 enemies had employed to bury him in ignominy. At 
 the light of his brilliant examples of patience and re- 
 signation, not only a high opinion of his sanctity was 
 formed by all who knew him, but they were even moved 
 to implore his prayers to obtain for them whatever 
 graces they desired. Nor was their confidence vain, for 
 the Lord worked miracles through the mediation of 
 Facius, thus confirming his devout servants in their 
 respect and veneration for the fervent Silversmith. Two 
 cases attracted special attention : one in which he freed 
 a poor woman from the possession of the devil, from 
 which she had suffered eighteen years ; and the other in 
 which he cured a child on the point of death, that for 
 eight days had refused its mother’s milk and all kinds 
 of food. 
 
 When the Father of mercy was satisfied with the 
 patience of the invincible captive, it pleased Him to put 
 an end to his imprisonment. It happened that the in- 
 habitants of Cremona went to assist those of Yerona in 
 
16 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 the war they were waging against the people of Mantua, 
 and returning victorious, they interceded for the inno- 
 cent almoner, and obtained for him his liberty. Thus 
 does the Lord take the part of his own, at the time 
 and in the manner most conducive to the good of their 
 souls. 
 
 Our charitable Facius started again for Cremona, 
 where he could, without hindrance or rivalry, dedicate 
 himself to the works which his ardent zeal for the glory 
 of God and the good of his beloved poor might suggest. 
 It is needless to say that once settled down in his old 
 home, he renewed his fervour and his former pious 
 works. Wonderful was his union with God in the 
 midst of the labours of Martha. Ever and in all places, 
 beyond the frequent aspirations he addressed to God, 
 the immense ocean of goodness, he was seen recollected 
 and, as it were, buried in the divine presence. And not 
 content with his own spiritual improvement, which he 
 drew from prayer, to which he dedicated all the time 
 left him by his occupation, and his assiduous attendance 
 at the services of the Church, at which he assisted with 
 great fervour and recollection, he exhorted all to do 
 likewise, and to frequently eat of the Bread of the 
 strong, the source of true peace and solid happiness. 
 But his piety was most marked in rendering to God a 
 continuous tribute of thanksgiving. Burning in the 
 flame of divine love, he frequently invited all he met to 
 give God glory and thanks, repeating with holy enthu- 
 siasm : “ Praise God ! Praise my God ! ” 
 
BLESSED FACIÜS. 
 
 17 
 
 III. 
 
 The royal Prophet says : “0 praise the Lord, all ye 
 nations : praise Him, all ye people. For his mercy is 
 confirmed upon us : and the truth of the Lord remaineth 
 for ever.” Such is the hymn which often hurst from 
 that bosom perfected according to the Divine Heart ; 
 and such also the song which all Christians sing who 
 appreciate their soul at its just value. As man was 
 created to glorify God, he can sing no hymn more 
 agreeable to the Author of his days. Hence our good 
 silversmith, not satisfied with blessing the Almighty for 
 the incessant favours received from His hand, invited all 
 to help him to glorify God, who is worthy of all love 
 and praise. How few there are who imitate such laud- 
 able conduct ! When urged by necessity, they raise 
 their voices, like the ten lepers of the Gospel, and cry 
 out: “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us;” but as soon 
 as they are free from the scourge which threatened 
 them, far from imitating the grateful Samaritan, who 
 glorified his benefactor, they forget the graces received, 
 like unclean animals which never regard the hand that 
 gives them their daily food. “ Ever give thanks,” says 
 the Apostle, “ to God the Father in the name of our 
 Lord Jesus Christ, praising and blessing the Lord in 
 your prayers for all things.” 
 
 This was our saint’s rule of conduct ; but let no one 
 imagine that he thereby neglected his duties. Urged 
 on by charity, he applied himself to his work with edi- 
 fying interest, that he might have the more to give to 
 the poor. His bowels of mercy allowed him not rest or 
 delay whenever he could console anyone afflicted, but 
 even impelled him to pass a considerable part of Sunday, 
 
18 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 intended for the repose of the limbs wearied by work, in 
 visiting the sick and those in prison, clothing the naked, 
 giving food to the hungry, animating the sad, teaching 
 the ignorant, and putting those who went astray on the 
 path of eternal salvation. And whence came to him 
 that invincible perseverance in treading the road of the 
 saints P It was from prayer and the frequenting of the 
 sacraments he gained courage to undertake new enter- 
 prises for the glory of God. Ever zealous for the 
 splendour of divine worship, soon after he regained his 
 liberty, about the year 1233, he built with his own 
 labour and alms a charming oratory, in which he used 
 to meet some pious companions to promote their mutual 
 advancement in Christian virtues. There he formed his 
 heroic plans of beneficence ; and fearing lest his death 
 might also put an end to the charitable aspirations of 
 his friends, with the object of rendering them perpetual, 
 he invited them to form an association which should 
 unite the exercises of religion there practised with the 
 relief of the poor. This was carried out, and so by his 
 means was formed the congregation known as “ The 
 Society of the Holy Ghost.” 
 
 IV. 
 
 At that time it was quite the custom to make pil- 
 grimages to the most celebrated shrines of Christendom, 
 and particularly to the tombs of the Apostles ; and their 
 origin goes back to the first ages of the Church, who 
 always blessed them as a means of promoting piety. 
 But do not imagine that such excursions were made 
 
BLESSED FACIUS. 
 
 19 
 
 from a spirit of vanity, idleness, or pastime, as many 
 make them at the present day, but with the intention 
 of enlivening faith at sight of the ashes of those who 
 gave their lives in defence of the Catholic doctrine, and 
 of mortifying themselves and doing penance, by applying, 
 in satisfaction for their sins, the serious privations which 
 such long journeys then entailed. The vicars of Jesus 
 Christ generously opened the inexhaustible treasures of 
 the Church, and granted many graces and indulgences 
 to the devout pilgrims, thus promoting, as far as they 
 could, these pious journeys, which often served as a 
 bond of union between one Catholic nation and another. 
 
 Facius would not be deprived of that means of sanc- 
 tification, which produced such salutary effects in well- 
 disposed souls. He consequently performed several 
 pilgrimages, now to the tombs of the Apostles Peter 
 and Paul, and now to the shrine of our glorious patron, 
 St. James of Compostela, always returning to Cremona 
 full of new fervour and well-earned deserts. He was 
 once called to visit a sick nobleman, of whose recovery 
 the doctors had despaired ; and notwithstanding that he 
 found him on the point of death, fortified with all the 
 sacraments, our devout silversmith encouraged him to 
 have confidence in God, and promised him his health if 
 : he made a vow to visit the tomb of St. James. The 
 
 sick man agreed, and got well almost immediately, to 
 the great joy and wonder of the whole family. The 
 servant of God was asked to accompany the pilgrim on 
 the journey, and he willingly consented to help him to 
 fulfil his vow ; and after escaping many dangers by sea 
 and land, brought him back safe and sound to his home 
 at last. Thus did Facius sanctify his soul, by availing 
 himself of every means that God afforded him. But 
 what he employed most care and attention in was the 
 sanctification of his ordinary work. At the stroke of 
 his hammer and the grating of his file he intoned hymns 
 
20 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 to the King of heaven, never losing any occasion of in- 
 creasing in virtue or doing good to his neighbour. Be 
 was the very model of a Christian workman. 
 
 Y. 
 
 He never took part in dangerous games or jests, nor 
 frequented places of dissipation, nor permitted another’s 
 faults to be criticised in his presence, nor indecent sub- 
 jects to be mentioned, nor anything to be done unworthy 
 of those who efficaciously desire their eternal salvation. 
 Bis conversation always turned either on holy things, 
 that might help to enliven the spirit of piety, or on in- 
 different subjects, which might raise his mind from the 
 cares of his labour, and animate him to follow with more 
 courage the path of virtue. Would that every parish 
 had inhabitants so edifying ! Even the very religious 
 had to learn from a poor workman sanctified in the 
 midst of the dangers of the world ; for the Bishop of 
 Cremona, moved by his extraordinary proofs of sanctity, 
 and by the wonderful prodigies with which the Lord 
 glorified the illustrious silversmith, ordered him to visit 
 in his name the convents of the diocese. But for a short 
 time could Facius discharge the duties of this high mis- 
 sion, for he had scarcely commenced when he was called - 
 by the Lord to receive the reward of his labours. His 
 death, like his life, was that of a saint. 
 
 Finding himself attacked by fever, he fortified his 
 soul with the sacraments, to be able to sustain the last 
 combat with the capital enemy ; and aware of his ap- 
 proaching end, like an unconquered champion of the 
 faith, he placidly gave up his soul, to Him who had 
 
ST. NICEPHORUS. 
 
 21 
 
 created it, on tlie 18th January, L272. He left the little 
 he had to the sick in the Hospital of the Holy Ghost, 
 for whom he had laboured so much. Soon the news 
 spread through the city that the saint was dead. The 
 whole town, bewailing the death of so charitable a man, 
 attended his funeral as a mark of their respect and ap- 
 preciation, and so did all the priests of the city. Many 
 miracles were wrought by our Lord at the grave of the 
 humble silversmith. Thus do those triumph after death 
 who know how in life to conquer the world, the flesh, 
 and the devil, and unhesitatingly follow the path of 
 sanctity. 
 
 ST. NICEPHORUS, ARTISAN. 
 
 I. 
 
 Though we know not what the profession of this great 
 saint was, yet we are aware, from what is related in the 
 acts of his martyrdom, that he was a man of the com- 
 mon people, perhaps without learning, and consequently 
 had to gain his bread by his industry and labour. We 
 did not like to omit his life, for the brilliant proof it 
 affords us of how much the Lord is pleased by th© 
 pardon of injuries. The Christian should have no ene- 
 mies but the world, the flesh, and the devil, and no bit- 
 terness for anyone, except in doing violence to himself. 
 Regenerated by charity, he should be charitable to all ; 
 
22 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 lie should breathe nothing but charity even for those 
 who outrage and persecute him. Far be it from us to 
 entertain hatred and vengeance, which only suit despic- 
 able and mean hearts, but are totally unworthy of one 
 who by grace was raised to the dignity of Son of God. 
 
 Our saint lived in Antioch, in Syria, and led a life of 
 solid Christian virtue. He was aided in this both by 
 meditation on the divine commandments and eternal 
 truths, and the intimate friendship and frequent com- 
 munication he had with Sapricius, an edifying and 
 zealous priest. They loved each other like brothers, and 
 mutually assisted each other with tender solicitude and 
 Christian emulation. But the enemy, who never sleeps, 
 envious of the glory which resulted to God from so 
 virtuous a friendship, did not rest till he sowed the seeds 
 of discord between them. Then the bonds of friendship 
 were broken, and hatred succeeded charity to such a 
 degree, that when they saw each other on the street they 
 turned their heads that they might not meet face to 
 face. This conduct was pursued for a long time by 
 these former models of good friends. 
 
 At last, Nicephorus, feeling the remorse and restless- 
 ness of conscience, which burn the rancorous heart like 
 living fire, and which had come to him to exile the 
 calmness, peace, and tranquillity produced in the soul 
 by charity and justice, entering into himself, acknow- 
 ledged the enormity of his fault, and resolved to try 
 every means to be reconciled to his enemy. He sent to 
 him mutual friends to be his advocates and obtain par- 
 don for him, assuring the other of the sincerity of his 
 repentance, and his resolve to give him every sort of 
 satisfaction ; but all in vain, for the bad priest would 
 not even hear his enemy spoken of. In this repulse 
 many would have more than sufficient pretext, not only 
 to become hardened in their sin, but even to call into 
 doubt the holy maxims of their faith, so badly observed 
 
ST. NICEPHOEUS. 
 
 23 
 
 by some of its ministers. But our Artisan knew tbat 
 priests, mortal men as they are like others, may sin 
 and be condemned after haying to render to God a 
 double account of their conduct. And not caring, like 
 a prudent man, to expose his eternal salvation because 
 the other was obstinate in his perdition, he tried again, 
 and sought new intercessors to treat with Sapricius. 
 But he was still unsuccessful, and after receiving a 
 second and third affront, he resolved to go to him in 
 person. Our good workman went and threw himself at 
 the feet of the person offended, and besought him for 
 the love of Jesus Christ to pardon him. But this heroic 
 act of humility had no better effect than the intervention 
 of his friends. He who should be the minister of mercy 
 was hardened, and he not only closed his ears to all cries 
 for reconciliation and pardon, but even became deaf to 
 the voice of God, loudly repeating in his heart : “ For- 
 give, and you shall be forgiven.” 
 
 In the meantime the persecution of the Christians, 
 which appeared to have calmed down, was terribly re- 
 newed under the government of Galienus and Valerian. 
 The waves of this tempest, excited about the year 260 
 of the Christian era, reached Antioch. As Sapricius was 
 one of the Christians who figured most in that city, so 
 was he also one of the first to fall into the hands of the 
 persecutors. When taken prisoner before the Governor, 
 he was asked his name. “I am called Sapricius,” he 
 answered. “ And what is your profession P ” asked the 
 governor. “I am a Christian,” replied the prisoner. 
 “ Are you an ecclesiastic ?” “ Though unworthy,” said 
 Sapricius, “ I am a priest of Jesus Christ. We Christians 
 adore J esus, the only true God, as the sovereign Lord 
 of heaven and earth, and we abominate your gods, be- 
 cause they are the representatives of the devil who holds 
 you captive.” The Governor was irritated by this noble 
 answer, and ordered Sapricius to be tormented. The 
 
24 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 confessor of the faith was not scared at this, hut suffered 
 the torture with invincible constancy, saying to the 
 judge, in the midst of his torments : “You have my 
 body in your power, torment it as you like ; but you 
 cannot touch my soul, which is subject only to Jesus 
 Christ, who alone can destroy the body, and cast body 
 and soul into unquenchable fire.” When the tyrant saw 
 that all his machines could not draw from Sapricius an 
 abjuration of faith, and that neither promises nor threats 
 had any effect on a heart which regarded it as a glory 
 to suffer for Jesus, he passed the following sentence of 
 death on him : “ That Sapricius, a Christian priest, who 
 is obstinate in his mad religion, and ridiculously believes 
 he will rise one day, be handed over to the executioner, 
 who will cut off his head in punishment of his contempt 
 for the edict of the emperors.” The minister of the 
 Crucified heard the sentence with calmness and even 
 with joy, desiring to give his life for the glory of Him 
 who gave his for love of us on the shameful wood of the 
 cross. 
 
 II. 
 
 He was preparing to go to the place of execution, with 
 the hope of soon wearing the martyr's crown, when 
 Hicephorus, having heard of the glorious confession of 
 the priest, ran to him and threw himself at his feet, ex- 
 claiming : “ Martyr of Jesus Christ, pardon the fault I 
 committed against thee.” Even in these critical cir- 
 cumstances he repulsed the penitent offender, nor did 
 he who was going to die for Him whose first words from 
 the pulpit of the cross were words of pardon for his 
 very executioners, deign to open his lips to him. The 
 
ST. NICEPHORUS. 
 
 25 
 
 afflicted Ricephorus arose, but did not despair of gaining 
 bis object. He ran to another street, through which the 
 martyr must pass, and making his way through the 
 crowd, he again flung himself at his feet, and weeping 
 said : “ For Jesus Christ’s sake, do not condemn me to 
 despair ; pardon the fault I committed more from frailty 
 than malice ; I beseech you by the glorious confession 
 you have made of our Divine Redeemer.” But the 
 heart of Sapricius was hardened more and more, the 
 poor wretch forgetting that our Lord rejects the sacri- 
 fice of him who entertains the spirit of vengeance in his 
 heart ; he did not see that in punishment of his hardness 
 the palm might escape from his hand, and the crown fall 
 from his head. He walked on, without deigning to turn 
 a compassionate glance on biicephorus, who followed him 
 in tears, imploring his pardon. The soldiers grew tired 
 of our Artisan, and wondering at his persistence, cried 
 out to him : “ What madness is this ? The man is going 
 to die, and yet there you are asking his pardon ! ” Even 
 when they arrived at the place of execution, Nicephorus 
 returned to the charge, and redoubled his entreaties and 
 his tears in request of pardon ; but Sapricius remained 
 obstinate in his hard-heartedness and vengeance. 
 
 III. 
 
 Soon, however, he experienced the chastisement of 
 heaven. The executioner had the sword raised, and 
 was about to give the blow, when Sapricius detained 
 him, and asked : “Why are you going to cut off my 
 head ? ” “ For your disobedience to the emperor’s 
 
 orders, and for refusing to offer incense to our gods.” 
 
26 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 “ Hold a moment,” said the unfortunate man, “ bring 
 me fire and incense, and I will sacrifice to your idols. 
 Don’t kill me.” Nicephorus, who was present, was 
 filled with bitter sadness on hearing this, and cried out 
 to him: “ For God’s sake, father, what are you doing ? 
 Do you thus deny Jesus Christ ? For a short span of 
 life do you thus purchase eternal death ? ” But these 
 feeling words made no impression on the heart of 
 Sapricius, who was now the slave of Satan. Then 
 Hicephorus, anxious to make reparation to the glory of 
 Jesus, injured by the apostasy of an unworthy priest, 
 and bitterly bewailing so terrible a fall, called out to 
 the executioners : “I am a Christian ; I adore as my 
 God, Jesus Christ, to whom this unfortunate man has 
 become a renegade. Here I am, ready to suffer a thou- 
 sand deaths, sooner than renounce my Jesus and adore 
 your gods, the representatives of your vices, the images 
 of the devil ; or offer them sacrifice, whose very smoke 
 contaminates the air. This unexpected exclamation 
 embittered the joy and contentment the idolaters felt at 
 the fall of the priest. One of the soldiers ran to tell 
 the governor what had happened : “ Sir,” said he, “ the 
 obstinacy of Sapricius has broken down, and he promises 
 to sacrifice to the gods ; but another man has come 
 forward, who proclaims himself a Christian, and says 
 he will never deny his God, nor sacrifice to our divinities, 
 nor in this obey the orders of our august emperor.” 
 
 When the governor heard this report, he pronounced 
 sentence against Hicephorus, saying : “ If this man 
 
 refuses to offer incense to the gods, let him be decapi- 
 tated in place of Sapricius.” The new athlete was 
 invincible, and constant in confessing Jesus, and, bending 
 his neck to receive the fatal blow, his head rolled on the 
 ground. The angels came down to receive that holy 
 soul, and crown it with the diadem of martyrdom, and 
 place on it the triple aureola of faith, humility, and 
 
BLESSED GENTIL. 
 
 27 
 
 charity, of which Sapricius was unworthy, through his 
 hardness of heart, and his refusal to pardon injuries. 
 Thus were the crowns transferred. What a terrible 
 lesson for those who harbour in their souls sentiments 
 of hatred and vengeance against their brethren ! “I 
 want mercy and not sacrifice,” said the Lord; and never 
 will He receive into his friendship and grace him who 
 obstinately refuses to pardon his enemies, even though 
 he should shed all the blood in his body for religion ; 
 for it is not the torments that make martyrs, but charity. 
 The feast of this illustrious Artisan is celebrated in the 
 Greek as well as in the Latin Church, on the 9th of 
 February. 
 
 BLESSED GENTIL, SHOEMAKER’S WIFE. 
 
 I. 
 
 Whilst Charles V, with more than ordinary pomp, 
 was being crowned in Bologna by Clement VIL, there 
 was celebrated in heaven the coronation of a poor woman, 
 in reward of her heroic virtues, which rendered her the 
 model of modest virgins, patient wives, and fervent 
 widows. She was called Gentil, and was the daughter 
 of Thomas Justo, a silversmith of Verona. Gentil was 
 born in Ravenna, of which city her mother was also a 
 native, and had the fortune to meet in her youth with a 
 holy virgin, through whose example and Christian 
 
 
28 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 conversation she took a great interest in works of piety, 
 and every act of virtne. In imitation of her, she avoided 
 those places and diversions in which the innocence of 
 incautious youth usually perishes, for death is met with 
 where happiness was sought. It is wonderful what the 
 counsels of a good friend can do in a well-disposed 
 mind. As a had companion generally sticks the pitch 
 of his vices to those who have the misfortune to he 
 familiar with him, so, on the other hand, intercourse 
 with the virtuous infuses into the soul a love of virtue, 
 and a contempt and horror of whatever can stain the 
 purity of the soul. There are few who may not attribute 
 their improvement or their ruin to a good or bad friend. 
 
 By the side of so good a companion, it is wonderful 
 how Gentil advanced on the way of perfection. She 
 was a most modest and laborious virgin ; and with equal 
 pleasure put her hand to the brush or the wheel, as she 
 did to the rosary beads and the discipline ; for in one 
 and the other she only sought to please God, the sole 
 centre of her love. She was very young when her 
 parents thought of marrying her, thinking more of the 
 worldly condition of the husband than his qualities as a 
 Christian. The parents who place the happiness ofjheir 
 daughters’ marriage in the good matches they procure 
 for them, and in the splendid dresses with which they 
 blind and fill them with pride, generally meet with a 
 great mistake in it ; for, with their mind fixed on this, 
 which is of no importance, they forget the interior gifts 
 of the soul, which is the principal thing, and should be 
 the motive of all marriages, if they are to be firm, 
 bless&d^and happy. For, when avarice and lust, either 
 by regarding alone riches or beauty, are the motives of 
 a marriage, that marriage is seldom fortunate. A man 
 has no reason to wonder that, if he marry for money or 
 beauty, which to-morrow may cease to exist, the love 
 and benevolence which rest on such slight foundations 
 
BLESSED GENTIL. 
 
 29 
 
 should also disappear with them. Daily experience tells 
 us that, in marriages in which God does not intervene, 
 but passion ; and virtue, and similarity of disposition do 
 not join the spouses’ hands, but the greed of riches, or 
 disordered inclinations ; the husband and wife soon 
 disagree, and the wine of the wedding is converted into 
 vinegar, the love into hate, and what should be a sweet 
 and agreeable companionship becomes a sad and painful 
 captivity. Thus did it happen to our invincible heroine, 
 who was married in her fresh, young years to James 
 Planella, a shoemaker, and met with nothing in her 
 wedded life but briers and thorns. She had two sons, 
 one of whom died at seven years of age ; and the other, 
 who was miraculously cured of a serious illness, after- 
 wards became a priest. 
 
 II. 
 
 Soon the honey of her marriage, contracted more to 
 please her parents than from her own choice, melted 
 away; for the servant of God’s holy method of life 
 excited the anger and displeasure of her husband to 
 such a degree that it not only brought her an j^undant 
 harvest of injurious charges, calumnies, and tahnts, but 
 also cruel and barbarous treatment. Jealousy and 
 suspicion are bad counsellors. Everything the poor 
 woman did was ill-done in the eyes of Planella, every- 
 thing was an insult to him, everything a proof of her 
 little or no affection for him. The poor thing was 
 extremely beautiful, and the wretched man believed 
 that she disliked him, and gave her guilty love to others. 
 There was nothing wanting to convert a family which, 
 as far as Gentil was concerned, might have been the 
 
30 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 reflection of the peace of paradise, into a miserable and 
 prolon^bd hell on earth. All was shouts, charges, and 
 hard names for the innocent spouse ; and, in his fury, 
 he even sometimes raised his hand to his defenceless 
 victim. But she contented herself with simply and 
 meekly explaining the truth, and never returned evil for 
 evil, nor gave an answer to his insults. On the contrary, 
 she bore her heavy cross, not only with resignation to 
 the divine will, but with ineffable peace, as a favour 
 sent her by the Father of mercies. What she did feel, 
 indeed, and what wounded her very heart, was the 
 offence to God, and the scandal which the blinded 
 husband gave his tender children. Edifying, certainly, 
 were the patience and charity of the holy wife, but still 
 more edifying was the silence with which she bore it all. 
 When man is in tribulation, he seeks a friend in whom 
 to confide his sufferings, and breaks into complaints 
 to alleviate his pain; but never did a complaint pass 
 the lips of Gentil, never did her neighbours learn 
 from her what she was suffering in silence. Her heroic 
 patience went even further : though her prayers had 
 such weight with God, she never asked Him to free 
 her from that continual martyrdom. How many heart- 
 burnings would many wives escape if they only imitated 
 this example of silence and abnegation ! Gentil had no 
 confidants in her troubles but God and her confessor. 
 On a certain occasion, her intimate friend, Margaret, 
 knowing by divine revelation the trials of the martyred 
 wife, asked her in all charity : “ How are you getting 
 on, my child? ” And Gentil, with a smile on her lips, 
 and her heart full of joy, answered : “ Right well, 
 Margaret; I could not ask to be better. The Lord is 
 better to me than I deserve.” Such was the consolation 
 which the testimony of a good conscience gave her, — a 
 consolation which the Lord abundantly poured out on 
 her soul in the midst of her sufferings. “ Come, come,” 
 
BLESSED GENTIL. 
 
 31 
 
 replied the other, “remember, a little bird tells me your 
 trials. But never mind, bear with your cross, and your 
 reward shall be great.” 
 
 Gentil, in spite of her husband’s perverseness, treated 
 him with all the meekness which Jesus Christ taught 
 us. She was always attentive and obedient to all his 
 commands, ever docile and submissive to his wishes. 
 She answered his wicked expressions with manifestations 
 of affection and love, his .sgurness and ill-treatment with 
 extreme sweetness, his ingratitude and renewed injuries 
 with a particular care in serving and pleasing him. But 
 this holy endiéavour, far from contributing to soften 
 that adamant heart, only embittered it the more and 
 roused it against his loving consort. Such is the 
 development of an unsubdued passion. The wretch, 
 not satisfied with outraging her with word and deed, 
 obliged her to pass the night, from daylight to daylight, 
 welting shoes and Regulating the clothes of the house. 
 But Gentil thought nothing of it ; for the solitude and 
 silence afforded her an opportunity of meditating on the 
 vanity of all the goods and pleasures of the world, and 
 of holding, during her work, tender conversations with 
 God and the Blessed Virgin ; from which she derived 
 new strength to carry her cross, under whose weight 
 many women without her solid virtue would have suc- 
 cumbed. And she did not, for all that, allow this to 
 exempt her from assiduously applying herself during 
 the day to her domestic tasks, taking special care to 
 have everything well arranged, clean, and polished, 
 as she was anxious to give her husband no occasion to 
 get out of temper. 
 
 But the capital enemy of our souls knows how to 
 suggest dangers in the very thing that should edify us ; 
 and the unhappy husband allowed himself to be caught 
 in his nets. As his soul knew neither peace nor repose, 
 he declared bitter w r ar against his living spouse. With 
 
32 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 
 a spirit of vengeance, fed b^ hatred of many years 
 standing, he cruelly and feloniously accused Jjer as a 
 witch and a corrupter of morals before the ecclesiastical 
 authority, with the hope of seeing her burned alive. 
 The Vicar- General and other ecclesiastical and secular 
 authorities came at once to investigate the charges 
 brought against her by her own hu^and ; but they 
 were astonished when, instead of the infamous woman 
 her husband had painted her, they found a matron 
 clearly Innocent, and deserving of all praise for her 
 virtues and integrity of life. The blind and heartless 
 husband was so annoyed at this that he abandoned poor 
 Gentil, and emigrated to Padua, leaving her buried in 
 misery. 
 
 III. 
 
 But the Lord, who is the Father of the deserted, and 
 looks in a particular manner after those who throw 
 themselves into the arms of His providence, did not 
 abandon her. Gentil was overjoyed at her new r lot, and 
 only bewailed the perdition of her husband. So she 
 prayed continually to the Lord to touch that heart, so 
 hardened in sin, and was resolved not to desist from her 
 demand till she obtained this grace from the Omnipotent. 
 Beyond that she thought nothing of her wayward 
 husband, and employed herself exclusively in pleasing S 
 God, giving a Christian education to her son Leo, and 
 providing by her labour the necessaries of this miserable 
 life. Many a time, however, she found herself without 
 a bit of bread to give to her child; but the Lord, 
 who clothes in beauty the flowers of the field, and 
 supplies food to the birds of the air, provided for this 
 
BLESSED GENTIL. 
 
 33 
 
 beloved family by extraordinary means. Often, when 
 sbe found herself in these straits, she discovered in the 
 house more than she required, without knowing who 
 brought it, or whence it came. Thus does the Lord 
 succour those who serve Him as they should. 
 
 How that Gentil was free from the vexations caused 
 by her husband, the Lord Himself undertook to try her 
 patience, as of old He did that of his friend Job. It is 
 impossible to tell the number and the intensity of the 
 illnesses which attacked this elect of God — enough that 
 they did not leave her a sound organ or a member free 
 from pain. And yet she was always content and happy; 
 and from her lips came nothing but benedictions and 
 thanks to the Almighty, because in these sufferings He 
 enriched her with a means of paying for her sins, as 
 she expressed it. One of her most painful attacks 
 lasted fourteen years; and she whó, with her prayers 
 and her very touch, had freed others from sickness, 
 could not bring herself to ask God for the health^of her 
 own body. To suffer was to her a pleasure preferable 
 to all the delights with which the world deceives its 
 slaves. 
 
 This indomitable virtue, this saintly patience, Gentil 
 derived, in a great measure, from that inexhaustible 
 fountain of divine grace, the frequenting of the sacra- 
 ments. As soon as she had committed — not mortal sins, 
 for they would not leave her a moment’s peace — but 
 some action or omission not in strict conformity with 
 the divine will, she would run at the earliest opportunity 
 to the feet of her confessor, to bewail with bitter tears 
 her venial fault, often incurred without advertence. 
 Besides thisjshe confessed every week her past imperfec- 
 tions and faults, ever weeping over them. When thus 
 purified in the sacred fountain, she approached the altar 
 with great recollection, modesty, and devotion, to receive 
 the Bread of Angels ; burning so in the ardent flame of 
 
34 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 the love of God, that, though naturally pale and sickly- 
 looking, she often became red as a rose, shining like 
 fire, through the love which inflamed her heart. 
 
 Her prayers were continual. Beyond the long time 
 she employed in .treating with God about the affairs of 
 her soul, often regaled with celestial consolation, she 
 found now in her labour, now in the street, now when 
 alone, now when in company, motives for raising her 
 heart to God, and making frequent acts of faith, hope, 
 charity, humility, and all the other virtues. She was 
 extremely temperate in eating, fasted often, and punished 
 with severe disciplines that body already afflicted with 
 so many infirmities. She dressed with edifying sim- 
 plicity^ without attracting attention, by affected tidiness 
 or cleanliness ; and she was so módest, that she flew 
 from everything that could stain her soul in the slightest 
 degree. And this without show or feminine vanity ; 
 for, except closing her ears to idle talk, she avoided with 
 great diligence all exterior actions which might procure 
 for her any estimation. With her Christian conversa- 
 tion she sweetly and insensibly corrected those with 
 whom she had dealings, reducing hardened sinners to 
 penance^undoing inveterate enmities, and inducing all 
 to frequent the sacraments, as the only means of freeing 
 themselves with certainty from the nets of their mortal 
 enemy. Among others, what happened to Jerome 
 Maluselli, who afterwards wrote the life of our saint, is 
 worthy of special mention. 
 
 IV. 
 
 When he was yet very young, and of somewhat 
 relaxed morals, he mocked at everything he heard told 
 of the virtues of the servant of God. However, he was 
 
BLESSED GENTIL. 
 
 35 
 
 induced, by the entreaties of his sister, to go to visit 
 Gentil, not without a certain show of contempt and 
 incredulity, for it was four years since he was at confes- 
 sion. As soon as he entered the house he smelt a 
 certain inexplicable fragrance; and, having heard her 
 warnings and counsels, enlightened by divine grace, he 
 felt his heart changed, and he determined to lead a 
 solidly Christian life. The issue proved the efficacy of 
 his resolutions ; for, detesting his past sins, and regenerat- 
 ing his soul with a good confession, he began to practise 
 Christian mortification and piety. And this young man 
 was not the o&ly one who, through Gentil’s edifying 
 conversations, made a complete change of life ; for many, 
 seeing their secret thoughts discovered by the humble 
 woman, and wondering at the wise counsels and ré^ 
 flexions which flowed from her lips, improved their 
 morals, and, through her prayers and maxims, conceived 
 a love for chastity, and obtained strength to overcome 
 the enticements of the flesh. To this ihany bore witness 
 on oath, when, by order of Paul III., informations were 
 taken about the life of the blessed servant of God. 
 
 This saintly woman was so charitable to the poor, 
 that she yearned for them like a loving mother. For 
 A succouring a poor deserted female ^she was driven out 
 of the city, as if she had the contagion of the plague, 
 which was devastating the country. Providence of the 
 Lord ! Goda vailed of this misfortune to make his elect . 
 sp$frise \ the angel of peacejand the balsam of life to the 
 proscribed sufferers. Obliged as she -vyas to live with 
 those afflicted by the plague, she unceasingly attended 
 them, and poured the oil of consolation on their sorrowful 
 hearts, and, above all, prepared their souls for the vqyhge 
 to eternity. In the famine which succeeded that 
 calamity, although Gentil might be reckoned amongst 
 the indigent, she distributed her little all I among the 
 poor; and, having at last nothing to give, she wept 
 
36 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 like a tender mother who sees around her her children 
 dying of hunger, without having a mouthful of bread 
 to reach them. She was acqustomed to visit the sick, 
 with great solicitude and charity ; and, as many were 
 miraculously cured by her prayers^lest she might acquire 
 any character for holiness, she desisted from her inter- 
 cession till, having consulted her spiritual director, she 
 obtained permission to prosecute her works of mercy. 
 She had the greatest pleasure in the world in doing good 
 to her fellow-beings ; but, as she was ever a child of 
 obedience, she gave up her charitable visits the moment 
 he whom God had given her as the director of her soul 
 told her to do so. She was always submissive to his 
 counsels, and abhorred all exterior acts which might 
 gain her the estimation of men. But, if she was on all 
 occasions solicitous for the temporal welfare of her 
 neighbours, she was much more so for their spiritual 
 welfare, and particularly in praying for those who, forget- 
 ful of their last end, were running headlong to their 
 eternal and irreparable ruin. However, her heart gave a 
 preference to those from whose good life the greater glory 
 of God should result, and to those from whom she had 
 received any harm or injury. 
 
 And so she prayed every day for the unfortunate 
 husband, who so infamously had abandoned herself- and 
 her poor child in misery. Sooner or later the fruit of 
 humble prayer is gathered. After many years’ silence, 
 and when he might have expected they had completely 
 forgotten him, James came back to live again with his 
 wife. She received him with open arms, as if in her 
 whole life she had got from him nothing but unequivocal 
 proofs of tenderness and love. But now, like a prodigal 
 husband, taught by the lessons which the • devil gives 
 his followers, fully convinced that all the felicity which 
 the world promises is no more than sm&ke which is 
 dissipated by a breath, wondering no less at the innocence 
 
BLESSED GENTIL. 
 
 37 
 
 and solid virtue of Gentil tlian at the ^special providence 
 with which the Lord had watched over her, he deeply 
 bewailed his errors and changed his life, to the unspeak- 
 able consolation of his soul and the whole fá!mily. And 
 so he lived the rest of his life like a good Christian, tasting 
 the sweets of the heart of the just, till he died, penitent 
 for his past disorders, and attended by Jerome Maluselli, 
 who had become a priest. Onr widow was supremely 
 consoled, * not by the death of her husband, who, even 
 when treating her like a cruel executioner, never received 
 from her the slightest complaint, but because poor James 
 had ended his days in a holy manner, according to the 
 desires of her heart, and she had now in this world 
 no one to content but her sweet Jesus, the beloved 
 Spouse of her soul. “ The woman who is married,” says 
 the apostle, “ has a care for the things of the world, and 
 how she may please her husband.” Free, now, from 
 this yolk, sweet, indeed, to those who try to please God 
 in all things, Gentil thought of nothing but the things 
 of the Lord, and how to be holy in body and soul, 
 according to the advice of St. Paul, who wrote thus to 
 Timothy, v. 3. : “ Honour widows that are widows 
 indeed. But, if any widow have children or grandchil- 
 dren, let her learn first to govern her own house, and to 
 make a return of duty to her parents ; for this is accept- 
 able before God. But she that is a widow indeed, and 
 desolate, let her trust in God, and continue in supplica- 
 tions and prayers night and day. For she that liveth 
 in pleasures is dead while she is living.” Imbued with 
 these holy maxims, our widow dedicated herself to per- 
 fecting the education of her son Leo, who was pursuing 
 an ecclesiastical course of studies, and to edify with her 
 prayers and example all those with whom she lived. 
 
38 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 Y. 
 
 To the pious family, which, after the death of Planella, 
 was composed of the widow, her son Leo, and a female 
 relative, was now added that zealous minister of Jesus 
 Christ, Jerome Maluselli. Their house resembled that 
 of the widow Judith, who, according to the testimony 
 of the Scripture, retired with her servants to the highest 
 room in the house, and “ wearing hair- cloth upon her 
 loins, fasted all the days of her life, except the sabbaths, 
 and new moons, and the feasts of the house of Israel.” 
 So the dwelling of Gentil was converted into a little 
 convent, in which all vied in serving their good Jesus. 
 But our pious widow always led the van, and our Lord 
 bestowed on her many crosses and consolations. And 
 of the latter, the least was not that which she experienced 
 when she saw her son ordained a priest, and received 
 Holy Communion from his hands. But what our Lord 
 v\K rewarded her continual mortification most in was her 
 spirit of prayer and her intimate relations with Jesus 
 Christ. Few, indeed, were the hours of the day in 
 which Gentil was not absorbed in contemplation of the 
 divine mysteries, and no intercourse with her ownKor 
 strangers could interfere with this holy occupation. 
 The following fact is a proof of this : — ^ 
 
 When the Constable of Bourbon was overrunning -fche^ 
 B-omagna, on his way to the capital of the Christian 
 world, Gentil, who was in her room talking to some 
 persons, suddenly became alarmed, and grew quite pale. 
 When asked the cause of the ^sudden change, she said 
 she saw Rome fearfully and barbarously sacked. And 
 indeed on the 6th of May, 1527, Bourbon was before 
 the walls of the Eternal City, at the head of an army ' 
 composed of immoral Catholics and blind Protestants, 
 the latter thirsting for the destruction of Catholicity, 
 
BLESSED GENTIL. 
 
 39 
 
 the former greedy for vengeance, and all anxious for the 
 rich booty promised them. The assault was made, and 
 ! these nominal Christians proved themselves more sangui- 
 nary than the barbarous soldiers of Attila. They ran 
 through the streets, drunk with wine and lust, one 
 covered with a mitre, another dressed in a cardinal’s 
 habit, another wearing a sacred stole over his uniform. 
 The booty was collected in the temples, whose altars 
 were converted into tables for orgies, and into couches 
 for ^Fecrable liberties. What a fearful desolation ! It 
 would draw tears of sorrow to see venerable cardinals 
 marched by on asses by a dissolute soldiery, the asylums 
 of virginity abandoned to violation and pillage, wives 
 outraged in presence of their husbands, daughters 
 dishonoured before their mothers’ eyes ; in a word, 
 abomination triumphant in the midst of the Holy City ! 
 | Great, indeed, must have been the crimes for which the 
 Lord sent a scofrrge^ sj? terrible. It was these crimes 
 rather than the chastisements of God, who after all is 
 our Father, that transpierced the heart of our venerable 
 widow ; but the cup of divine wrath was full, and the 
 Omnipotent wished to show the world what hearts with- 
 out faith or the fear of God can do. The Pope was 
 made captive, and the Christian world went intctjnourn- 
 ing ; and our own Spain, which was then very religious, 
 offered up to God penitential prayers for the release of 
 his vicar. 
 
 One year after this lamentable event Gentil lost her 
 beloved son. The pious widow bore this terrible afflic- 
 tion with strict conformity to the will of God, content 
 that the Lord had rescued him from the tempestuous 
 sea of the world, and brought him to the harbour of 
 salvation ; and soon after the disconsolate mother 
 ended her mortal career. Two years after she became 
 childless she died the /happy death of the just. As a 
 stone rolled from the top of a mountain gains in pace 
 
40 
 
 LIGHT FROM -THE LOWLY. 
 
 as it approaches the valley, so, in our venerable matron, 
 according as her illness was increasing, and the end of 
 her life nearing, the lively and ardent desire of being 
 united to Jesus, the centre of our eternal happiness, 
 was growing stronger and stronger. At last, while 
 imploring the divine mercy, her soul went to receive 
 the crown due to her ineifable deserts. She ended her 
 mortal pilgrimage at the age of 59, on the 28th day of 
 January, 1530. She left her house to Jerome Maluselli, 
 that he might build a temple to the Omnipotent on its 
 site ; and this the zealous priest, trusting in Divine 
 Providence, and the protection of his blessed friend, 
 undertook to do, and carried it to a successful issue 
 with the alms which flowed in on him from all quarters. 
 
 VENERABLE JOHN FRANCIS OF PALMA, 
 MATMAKER. 
 
 I. 
 
 He was the son of poor but fervent Catholic parents ; 
 and he received in his childhood a solid, Christian educa- 
 tion. He was scarcely seven years of age when he had 
 to bend his infantile shoulders to work, and was appren- 
 ticed to a matmaker. He humbly and obediently 
 accepted gladly the burden imposed on him at so early 
 
VENERABLE JOHN FRANCIS OF PALMA. 
 
 41 
 
 an age, endeavouring to do correctly all that he was 
 ordered. When engaged in platting or hemming bass, 
 he did not forget the devout practices he had learned 
 from his parents ; on the contrary, assisted by celestial 
 lights, he took the lead, though only a child, of many 
 adults in perfection, and the knowledge of divine 
 mysteries. At eight years of age, enamoured of the 
 angelical virtue, whether from the example of some 
 saints he had heard of, or by special inspiration of the 
 Blessed Virgin, to whom he was very devout, he made 
 a vow of perpetual chastity — a vow which he kept so 
 perfectly during his life that he did not even dream of 
 breaking it in the most venial way. Hence it is that 
 from his tenderest years his life was a perfect model for 
 holy workmen. To his attention to his business, which 
 was great, whether to meet the necessities of his poor 
 parents, or to have something to give to the poor of 
 Jesus Christ, he united a tender piety, a holy anxiety to 
 hear Mass with due composure and recollection, to pay 
 with burning affection a visit to Jesus in the Holy 
 Sacrament, to say the Rosary with attention and devo- 
 tion, and to perform other pious practices befitting those 
 who wish to foster the divine love in their souls. Modest, 
 obedient, and charitable, he was respected by poor and 
 rich. Ho one dared to stain another’s character in his 
 presence; and if some incautious person did utter a 
 criticism or bad word, he soon received a charitable 
 advice. He felt very much offences against God ; and 
 he did all that was in his power either to prevent them 
 or to repair them. Pondering in his own mind over the 
 dangers, obstacles, and risks of every sort, which the 
 world throws in the path of the servants of God, and 
 maturely reflecting how much poor clothing aids a 
 fervent heart, that he might live with greater regularity, 
 and more easily trample on human respect, he put on 
 the habit of the Third Order of St. Francis, wearing 
 
42 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 from that out nothing but frieze, and always going bare- 
 footed and bare-legged. Animated by the spirit which 
 the Seraphic Father desired in his children, he not only 
 adjusted his conduct to the rules of the Order, but was 
 remarkable among the most observant for his exactness 
 and modesty. He was before all, especially in his love 
 for poverty, piety, and mercy. He was never ashamed 
 of his humble birth ; and though he could, by his atten- 
 tion to business, and his economy in what he ate and 
 wore, have procured for himself a position of ease, his 
 liberality to the poor was so great that he could never 
 escape from his humble condition. In exchange he 
 received from his beloved Jesus extraordinary graces. 
 Among other proofs of the providence with which He 
 watched over the life of His servant was this : When 
 he was one day almost fainting from his continual 
 abstinence, the Saviour Himself came and brought him 
 food. John Francis was much more grateful for this 
 favour than were the disciples miraculously fed in the 
 desert, and the thought of it excited in his soul senti- 
 ments of humility and ardent love. Nothing could cool 
 the burning fire within his heart ; and no matter what 
 work his hands were engaged on he tried to keep it 
 alive with holy considerations and loving affections. 
 
 II. 
 
 Such was the edification he gave by his fervour, in- 
 dustry, and modesty, that his Eminence Cardinal 
 Moscoso, Bishop of Jaen, moved by the fame of his 
 virtues, wished to afford him a proof of his veneration 
 and affection by giving him the direction of a dilapi- 
 dated hospital. He could have offered him nothing 
 
VENERABLE JOHN FRANCIS OF PALMA. 
 
 43 
 
 more suited to his charitable inclinations. So, without 
 forgetting his mats, he undertook the physical and 
 moral restoration of that asylum of the suffering with 
 such interest and zeal that in a short time it was in a 
 better condition, with regard to the accommodation of 
 the sick, than it was in the prosperous years of its 
 foundation. The prelate was so pleased with the ac- 
 tivity and prudence of our Matmaker that he made 
 him one of his famuli , regarding him as a precious 
 relic, and employing him in distributing alms to the poor 
 and teaching catechism to the children. John Francis 
 performed all gracefully and successfully, meriting by 
 his virtues and lights from heaven not only the estima- 
 tion of his own and strangers, of rich and poor, but the 
 favours of his Divine Master for imprinting his consoling 
 doctrine on the minds of the rude. In circumstances 
 which appeared to render the thing impossible, he had 
 foretold that he should be a priest, confessor, and 
 director of nuns. And the thing which previously ap- 
 peared impossible, was desired by many, who would 
 formerly have laughed at the idea, but now held the 
 man of God in high esteem. Among them was the 
 above-mentioned bishop, and for this purpose he ordered 
 him to study Latin and wear shoes, which he had not 
 worn since he enlisted in the Third Order. Through 
 obedience, then, he went through a course of studies in 
 the schools of Baena ; and when he had acquired the 
 indispensable knowledge, he received Holy Orders, with 
 no less satisfaction to his friends than consolation and 
 joy to himself. 
 
 Cardinal Moscoso was raised to the archiepiscopal 
 chair of Toledo, and took our devout Francis with him ; 
 but the latter, in his profound humility and recollection, 
 could not accustom himself to the bustle and life of the 
 ancient capital, and ran off to Jaen without telling any- 
 one. The new prelate, Dr. Andrade, received him as 
 
44 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 his virtues deserved, and gave him a benefice in the 
 parish of St. Paul of Baeza, where he had been baptised, 
 and charged him at the same time with the direction and 
 care of the convents of St. Catherine and the Magdalen : 
 and these three duties he discharged with the greatest 
 zeal and exactness. Though his learning was not great, 
 his zeal inspired him with knowledge to give light to 
 the ignorant, consolation to the afflicted, courage to the 
 weak, fervour to the lukewarm, repentance to the ob- 
 stinate, and, like a good shepherd, to lead his beloved 
 sheep to the pastures of eternal life ; and these he fed 
 in all humility with good reading, as he did not attempt 
 to preach to them, for so he had arranged with his 
 superiors. Sometimes, however, he did ascend the 
 pulpit, and there he gloried on one occasion in having 
 been a matmaker, a trade which he followed even in the 
 midst of his apostolic labours. Everyone was edified at 
 seeing him, in broad daylight, mending and patching the 
 mats of the parish, and he always carried a needle and 
 thread for whatever might turn up. When any duty of 
 importance was offered to him, he always pleaded his 
 inability and lowness of birth ; but if it were an office 
 that might afford him an occasion of humiliation he 
 undertook it with promptness and joy. For this reason 
 he refused to become an officer of the Third Order, but 
 thought nothing of going out daily to ask alms for the 
 blessed souls in purgatory, and the relief of the poor. 
 He attended the hospitals, and looked after the sick 
 with all charity, and showed himself a perfect model of 
 all virtues. It was enough to see him to be edified. 
 Always jovial and modest, he spoke to all and instructed 
 them. To this one he told an innocent jest, which light- 
 ened his sadness ; to that one he uttered a pious sentence, 
 which increased his fervour ; to another a loving com- 
 plaint, with which he corrected him ; to a fourth a 
 prudent advice, with which he taught him ; and to all 
 
VENERABLE JOHN FRANCIS OF PALMA. 
 
 45 
 
 some word of consolation or paternal tenderness, with 
 which he gained their hearts. 
 
 III. 
 
 In spite of his profound humility, he could not pre- 
 vent the bishop, Dr. Andrade, from recompensing his 
 merits by making him rector of the Missionary Semi- 
 nary, which he had founded in Baeza, and giving him 
 also a prebend in the collegiate church. But he, as an 
 expert in the way of the saints, who when elevated do 
 not become proud, nor when lowered lose heart, but 
 from everything draw matter for their spiritual im- 
 provement, from the hard rock of honour made the 
 pure water of humility flow. When he took possession 
 of it, he said to the assistants, in his own peculiar way : 
 “ Does not the matmaker look well, think you, in his 
 choir cloak ? ” Notwithstanding his dignity, he never 
 kept a servant, nor did he think it beneath him to 
 attend the masons whenever any work was going on in 
 the seminary. And though living in his own country, 
 he was not on that account the less esteemed, particu- 
 larly by his nuns, whom he directed with as much 
 success as he did those of St. Elizabeth, when he was a 
 priest of St. Ildefonsus of Jaen ; on the contrary, all 
 regarded him as a saint, and the very sight of him 
 moved them to despise the grandeur of the world. Nor 
 did his dignity or his duties interfere with the intimate 
 communication he had always had with God. His in- 
 creasing fervour taught him to find time, amid his 
 numerous occupations, to commune with God and to 
 grow in perfection to the last moments of his life. He 
 died, at the age of 73, on the 9th of January, 1676. His 
 
46 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 body exhaled a sweet fragrance, which remained a long 
 time in the room where he expired. They buried him 
 in a sumptuous grave within his own church, and the 
 Lord worked some prodigies through his intercession. 
 For the glory of his trade, in which he rose to such a 
 degree of perfection, some of his handiwork, notwith- 
 standing continual use, remained as good and as fresh as 
 new for fifty years. Father Torres, the annalist of the 
 province of the Observant Fathers of Granada, and Mr. 
 Ramirez Luque, wrote his life. 
 
 BLESSED MARGARET, SERVANT IN AN INN. 
 
 I. 
 
 Young women have an illustrious example of chastity 
 in Blessed Margaret, who did not hesitate to shed her 
 blood for the preservation of that fragrant lily, acquiring 
 thereby the crown of virgin and martyr. It is not with 
 certainty known where she was born, though Louvain, 
 in Belgium, is generally supposed to be her native place. 
 Nor are we aware of the rank or profession of her 
 parents, being simply told, that when she was old enough 
 to go to service, whether through their death or their 
 poverty, she went as servant to a relation of hers named 
 Amandus. He kept an inn ; and, besides receiving all 
 classes of guests, he gave charitable shelter to pilgrims 
 and monks. That saintly house presented an agree- 
 able spectacle to men and angels, for master, mistress, 
 
BLESSED MARGARET. 
 
 47 
 
 and servant vied with each other in the divine service. 
 But the girl surpassed all in fervour, modesty, and 
 recollection. Not satisfied with performing the duties 
 of her charge with scrupulous fidelity, keeping every- 
 thing clean and tidy, and strictly obeying her master’s 
 orders, she endeavoured to do some work of mercy for 
 some of the guests, in attending to whom she believed 
 she was serving Jesus Christ. Active and industrious, 
 she knew how to perfectly harmonise the exact fulfilment 
 of her duties with works of piety, prayer, and the fre- 
 quenting of the sacraments. Like one who knew from 
 the misfortune of others the nets in which the world 
 involves incautious youth, and how much it contributes 
 to the glory of God and the Queen of Angels, to conse- 
 crate one’s self without reserve and completely to the 
 cultivation of virtue, she not only renounced for ever 
 all public spectacles and foolish diversions, where she 
 might run the least risk of staining the purity of her 
 soul, but even made a vow of perpetual chastity, which 
 she observed with supreme care and vigilance. In all 
 that related to this delicate flower, so easily withered, 
 she was so cautious that they called her “ Shy Margaret.” 
 All was needed to preserve herself unharmed in the 
 midst of the many occasions to which a corrupt world 
 exposes girls of her position ; but she omitted nothing 
 she saw was necessary. A constant vigilance over her 
 senses, the mortification of her will, assiduous prayer, 
 a certain gravity and reserve with young men, assisted 
 her to preserve intact the lily of her chastity. How 
 was it possible for her, without being armed at all hours 
 with mortification and prudence, to preserve herself 
 from falling, particularly at service in an inn, where she 
 had to meet all sorts of persons ? Continual were the 
 dangers, but incessant also was her vigilance. In deal- 
 ing with strangers, whose looks often betray their minds, 
 the people of the world avail themselves, as a secure rule 
 
48 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 to avoid mistakes, of the adage, “ Think ill and yon 
 won’t be far astray.” Margaret, however, animated 
 by solid charity, could suspect ill of no one. She knew, 
 of course, that we are all an abyss of miseries, that the 
 greatest saints can fall, and so she feared and guarded 
 herself against all. She was aware that the enemy is 
 astute, and that the infamous vice, disguising itself in a 
 thousand ways, rarely shows its hideous figure openly, 
 in order to more easily surprise the incautious. 
 
 Among the immodest and reckless it will tell indecent 
 and attractive stories ; to loose people it will recount, 
 with the appearance of shame, scandalous and provoca- 
 tive acts : with the modest and retiring it will employ 
 the language of hypocrisy. With these it puts on edify- 
 ing and pious manners, frequents the churches, and, oh ! 
 sorrow, even the sacraments, to attract attention by 
 feigned devotion. It praises continence and all virtues. 
 But allow it to slowly captivate the inexpert heart, 
 and you shall see how it gradually lays aside the mask, 
 and beginning with presents and protests, with expres- 
 sions of love and fidelity, with the promises of wealth, 
 it goes on to take indecent liberties, it adds insolence to 
 effrontery, and desists not till it sees the innocent dove 
 sacrificed at its feet. Unhappy the girl who lives not 
 in watching and holy fear. Margaret, by avoiding 
 intimacy with men, whether young or old, secular or 
 religious, by repulsing with holy liberty the insolent, 
 frowning at the daring, conducting herself always and 
 in all places with modesty and distrust, was enabled to 
 keep fragrant the frail flower of purity, even in a place 
 like hers. How true it is that it is not the place that 
 makes the saint ! The angels sinned in heaven — Adam 
 fell in Paradise ! and yet our saint in an inn merited 
 eternal glory. Little she cared whether they said she 
 was cruel or shy ; she only thought of pleasing God in all 
 things. This she anxiously prayed for, this she aimed 
 
BLESSED MARGARET. 
 
 49 
 
 at in her labours, this she sought to the great edification 
 of all who knew her, particularly her respected em- 
 ployers, into whom she infused a holy contempt for fleet- 
 ing things, and an enviable avarice of things eternal, to 
 such a degree that Amandus and his wife, resolving to 
 embrace the religious state, sold all they possessed, to 
 bid an eternal farewell to the world. Ño wonder that 
 Margaret should have a like intention, as some say, when, 
 in a life naturally exposed to dangers and risks, she 
 preserved herself pure and white as a lily among thorns. 
 
 II. 
 
 The sun was hidden behind the hills ; night was 
 coming on, only a few rays of twilight remaining, which, 
 
 ¡ as a presage of some sad event, tinged a few clouds in 
 obscure purple, when a knock came to the door of the 
 inn. They were in appearance three decent, but in 
 reality three wicked travellers, who, aware of the plans 
 j of the owners, and greedy for the proceeds of their 
 property, came to ask lodging in Amandus’ house. The 
 • good man made excuses, and told them he had sold out, 
 and closed his inn, with the intention of going the 
 following day to the monastery of Villers. But they 
 insisted, and the good Amandus, in order to do a work 
 of charity, gave them lodging. To treat them as well 
 as he could, he sent the servant for wine to a tavern, 
 which, up to lately, yet existed in Louvain. Margaret 
 was scarcely gone, when the perfidious robbers, abusing 
 the kindness they had received, threw themselves on 
 | the innocent victims, husband and wife, and cruelly 
 assassinated and robbed them of all they had. What a 
 j fright for poor Margaret ! The floor covered with 
 ' blood ! the bodies of her master and mistress pierced 
 
 4 
 
50 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 with innumerable wounds, the three assassins yet thirst- 
 ing for blood ; snch was the scene which presented itself 
 to her on her return. In terror she raised her eyes to 
 heaven, and in a moment she found herself assaulted 
 and maltreated by the heartless wretches. To crown 
 her misfortunes, they carried her outside the town, and 
 deliberated what they should do with the chaste dove. 
 One, less sanguinary, but more lascivious than the others, 
 wished to save her life in order to abuse her, under the 
 pretext of making her his wife ; but Margaret, inspired 
 with the noblest sentiments, said she would die a thou- 
 sand times sooner than yield to his base desires and 
 commit treason against the Lord, to whom she had 
 vowed perpetual chastity. Then one of the malefactors 
 stabbed her in the throat, and ran his dagger into her 
 heart, leaving the victim dead at his impure feet. To 
 conceal their crime, they threw the body of the glorious 
 martyr into the Dile. 
 
 The day or year in which this lamentable tragedy 
 occurred is not known, but good chronologists place it 
 between the years 1209 and 1212. Soon, as we are told, 
 the God of victory made known how pleasing to Him 
 had been the sacrifice offered on the altar of chastity. 
 We are assured that the sacred relics floated against the 
 current till they became stationary before the town. 
 That same night, Henry I., Duke of Lorraine, from his 
 castle window was viewing the scenery in the moonlight, 
 and he beheld a great splendour on the banks of 
 the Dile, and heard enchanting music. As this pheno- 
 menon was repeated several nights, he sent to inquire 
 the cause, and they found the sacred remains of the 
 glorious virgin. When the rumour spread, the people 
 went in crowds to see the holy body floating at rest on 
 the river’s current ; and the duke in person, accompanied 
 by the ecclesiastical and civil authorities, went in search 
 of the venerated treasure. It was placed with great 
 
STS. CRISPIN AND CRISPINIAN. 
 
 51 
 
 solemnity in the church of St. Peter, and the Lord 
 glorified it by working remarkable prodigies in favour 
 
 I of those who implored the protection and aid of Blessed 
 Margaret. 
 
 Revelations about her fate were not wanting. The 
 souls of the victims sacrificed by the robbers appeared 
 to a devout religious of the Abbey of Villers, and told 
 him that through God’s mercy they had been saved, but 
 were yet suffering in purgatory ; and when asked about, 
 the virgin Margaret, they said she was in the enjoyment 
 of inexplicable glory, and that they owed all the good 
 that was in them to the example and prayers of the chaste 
 girl. All died assassinated, but not all in the same state 
 nor for the same motive. It is not then the sufferings 
 that make martyrs, but the spirit and the cause for 
 which they are endured. 
 
 SS. CRISPIN AND CRISPINIAN. 
 
 I. 
 
 These names are celebrated in all the guilds of shoe- 
 makers. Yet we gave the preference to St. Nevolon, 
 because his life afforded us more facts for the imitation 
 of artisans than does that of these martyrs. But in 
 i order that those who are devout to them may not be 
 
 , deprived of a knowledge, though succinct, of their vir- 
 
 j tues, we are going to fell all we know of these invincible 
 
 j athletes. They came from Rome with St. Quintin and 
 
 ¡, other apostolic men to preach the faith in Gaul, and fixed 
 
 j! their residence in Soissons. Like several other preachers 
 
52 
 
 LIGHT FEOM THE LOWLY. 
 
 of that time, they lived by the labour of their hands, and 
 kept a workshop for making shoes in the town. The 
 cheapness of their goods, their charity to all, their ami- 
 ability and patience, attracted to them many customers 
 among the idolaters. The saints availed themselves of 
 these opportunities to inculcate the importance of salva- 
 tion, and animate all to embrace Catholicity, the only 
 religion which points out the right road to heaven. Their 
 exhortations, backed up by the sanctity of their lives, 
 gained over many proselytes. 
 
 They had been several years thus exercising their 
 apostolate, when that sanguinary persecutor of the 
 Christians, Maximian Herculeus, presented himself in 
 Belgic Gaul. Having taken the saintly shoemakers 
 prisoners, the impious tyrant, not content with the or- 
 dinary cruelties he inflicted in all parts, handed over 
 these brothers, as some call them, to Rictius Varus, the 
 the most implacable enemy of Christianity. He was 
 Prefect of that part of Gaul, and he subjected the saints 
 to the most terrible tortures to compel them to renounce 
 the faith. But finding they were impregnable and re- 
 solved to die for their religion, he ordered them to be 
 beheaded, in 287. Some sceptical critics deny that they 
 were shoemakers, but adduce no reason against the 
 general conviction. Mention is made of these saints in 
 the Martyrologies of St. Jerome, Bede, Floras, Ado, 
 Usward, and others. 
 
 A poor shoemaker was selected by God to propagate 
 the imitation of these martyrs. This was Michael Henry 
 Buch, known by the name of “ Good Henry.” He was 
 the son of a poor farmer in the duchy of Luxemburg, 
 and was remarkable from his infancy for his prudence 
 and piety. Like his types, he always tried to have Jesus 
 present in the midst of his labours, and to do all the good 
 in his power to his fellow-men. He was much grieved 
 at seeing many workmen buried in crass ignorance of 
 
STS. CRISPIN AND CRISPINIAN. 
 
 53 
 
 their religion, and in a lamentable forgetfulness of the 
 important affair of their eternal salvation. He laboured 
 with all his might to bring many back to the right road ; 
 he fervently prayed for them, and induced not a few to 
 go to hear the divine word and to fly bad company. 
 When he had succeeded in separating them from the 
 danger, he led them on. to pray and to frequent the 
 sacraments, and make during the day frequent acts of 
 faith, hope, and charity. He spent festival days in the 
 church and in performing works of mercy. When his 
 apprenticeship was served, he applied himself with still 
 more zeal to the improvement of his brethren. He 
 listened to the complaints of those at enmity, and recon- 
 ciled them. He consoled the afflicted, and even in his 
 poverty found means to assist the indigent. Sometimes 
 he covered the naked with his own garments, and took 
 the bread from his mouth to feed the hungry. In order 
 to save, and have the more to give to the poor, he lived 
 on bread and water. 
 
 Conducted by Divine Providence to Paris, he steadily 
 pursued the practice of all virtues. Here he formed the 
 acquaintance of the pious Baron de Renty, who was taken 
 by his good qualities and his zeal, and encouraged him 
 to open a shop in order to train up apprentices in the 
 holy fear of God. Henry, with the baron’s aid, opened 
 an establishment and began to gather recruits. Thus 
 commenced the brotherhood of shoemakers, who lived 
 under the rule given them by the priest of St. Paul’s, 
 approved later on by the Archbishop of Paris, John 
 Francis de Gondi, and inaugurated on the Feast of the 
 Purification of the Blessed Virgin in 1645. Henry 
 himself was elected the first prefect. 
 
 They rose every morning at five, collected together 
 to make a joint offering of their works, and afterwards 
 each one separately engaged in prayer at fixed hours. 
 They heard a daily Mass, and worked in silence, which 
 
54 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 they interrupted with pious hymns, and before dinner 
 they had meditation. On Sundays and holidays they 
 attended the morning and evening services in the 
 church, visited the prisons and hospitals, and every 
 year made a few days’ spiritual retreat. Two years 
 after the establishment of this rule, the brotherhood of 
 tailors adopted it, and founded similar houses. Both 
 associations soon spread through the different cities of 
 Europe, and produced in all parts similar good fruit. 
 Henry himself went to found one in Soissons, under the 
 auspices of the bishop, Charles Burlonne, in 1661. The 
 brethren had a superior, elected by vote, who looked 
 after their temporal affairs, and furnished an annual 
 account of income and expenditure. They lived single, 
 without being bound by vow, and dwelt in the same 
 house. The master marked out each one’s work, and 
 the product of their labour went to maintain them, the 
 surplus being distributed to the poor. In spiritual 
 matters they were subject to the parish priest. The 
 Paris community was suppressed by royal edict in 
 1778. 
 
 “ Good Henry ” died in Paris on the 9th of June, 1666, 
 of an ulcer on the lungs, and was buried in the cemetery 
 of St. Gervaise, leaving an eternal memory of his virtues 
 in the humble profession which he embraced by divine 
 vocation. 
 
pairing from % pistara of % f-olg Jfamilg. 
 
 ESPOUSALS OF MARY— BIRTH AND 
 ADORATION OF JESUS. 
 
 Extremely sad and heartrending was the spectacle pre- 
 sented by the world before the coming of Jesus Christ. 
 On one side the Gentiles, who were masters of the 
 greater part of the universe, were daily sinking deeper 
 and deeper in all kinds of vice and disorder, and were 
 involved in the most absurd errors and the most crass 
 ignorance about their origin and end; whilst on the 
 other, the chosen people, immured in a small comer of 
 Judea, had fallen so far from the high and noble senti- 
 ments of their ancestors, that they confined all their 
 religion to certain mere external practices, and tried 
 hard to screen their abominable corruption and sordid 
 avarice. It was only the Liberator, foretold by the 
 prophets, who could by his supernatural and divine 
 power raise the world out of such sickening degrada- 
 tion. But whither will the God of sanctity and purity 
 turn his eyes to choose his dwelling ? 
 
 In a lowly house of Nazareth there lived, unknown to 
 the world, but the object of the special providence of the 
 Almighty, two poor persons united in holy espousals. 
 Two humble work-people they were, who sought onlv 
 
56 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 to comply with the divine will in the exercises of piety, 
 in the labours of their calling, and in’the exact fulfilment 
 of all their duties. In their just judgment, all the riches 
 of the world were useless, unless in as much as they 
 contributed to promote virtue and sanctity in their 
 hearts, for the attainment of which God had placed 
 them on earth. And following a course entirely opposed 
 to the customs of their time, and particularly of their 
 own country, they renounced domestic pleasures, and 
 swore to each other to preserve intact the flower of their 
 virginity. These chaste spouses were Mary and Joseph. 
 Conceived without the stain of original sin, Mary, to the 
 strict performance of the huiñble duties of her house, 
 added such an aggregate of merits, that her astonishing 
 sanctity was the wonder of the angelic spirits themselves. 
 Joseph, chosen by the Blessed Trinity as the spouse of 
 the purest and most holy of all creatures, had by his 
 fidelity and constancy obtained the benedictions of 
 heaven, and had acquired treasures of grace correspond- 
 ing to the lofty virtues of his beloved spouse. This, 
 indeed, was a happy marriage in the midst of poverty, 
 because it was a holy marriage, in which existed one 
 only desire and one sole will — a marriage which pre- 
 pared the way, without their knowledge, for the greatest 
 of all imaginable favours, to have for son the very Son 
 of God, the Word incarnate. 
 
 There are gospels extant sanctioned in a measure by 
 their antiquity, though not authorised by the Church, 
 the infallible mistress of truth, which say that the holy 
 Virgin was consecrated from her tenderest years to the 
 service of the temple by her fervent parents, Joachim 
 and Anne, and that the priests gave her to St. Joseph, 
 moved thereto by a remarkable portent. It is said there 
 were many suitors for the hand of Mary ; and while de- 
 liberating on a proper choice, they saw the rod which 
 Joseph held begin to miraculously bud and blossom, like 
 
HISTORY OF THE HOLY FAMILY. 
 
 57 
 
 unto Aaron’s of old, by which our holy patriarch was 
 known to be preferred by God. 
 
 Be this as it may, it is certain that it was long foretold 
 that the Messias should be born of a Virgin, and Mary 
 was the virginal root of Jesse, from which the tree of 
 life should spring. And now the happy moment had 
 really arrived — that moment prescribed in the eternal 
 decrees — and six months after the angel had announced 
 to Zachary the future birth of John, the precursor of 
 Jesus Christ, the Archangel Gabriel was again sent by 
 God to Nazareth, a little village of Galilee, to obtain 
 Mary’s consent to the incarnation of the Word. When 
 the celestial messenger entered Our Lady’s apartment, he 
 saluted her thus : “ Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with 
 thee.” The humble Virgin was troubled at such a salu- 
 tation, but the angel encouraged her by saying : “ Fear 
 not, Mary, for thou hast found grace with God. Behold, 
 thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and thou shalt bring 
 forth a son ; and thou shalt call his name Jesus. He 
 shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Most 
 High, and the Lord God shall give unto Him the throne 
 of David his father : and He shall reign in the house of 
 Jacob for ever. And of his kingdom there shall be no 
 end.” 
 
 The Virgin was astonished at what she heard, and 
 desirous of knowing whether it could be reconciled with 
 the vow of virginity she had offered to God, she an- 
 swered, with singular modesty : “ How shall this be 
 done, because I know not man?” And the messenger 
 of the Eternal replied : “ The Holy Ghost shall come 
 upon thee, and the power of the Most High shall over- 
 shadow thee. And therefore also the Holy which shall 
 be born of thee shall be called the Son of God.” And 
 to confirm her more and more in the belief of his words, 
 he told her that her cousin Elizabeth had conceived a 
 son in her old age, and that this was the sixth month 
 
58 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLT. 
 
 for her who had been sterile, because there was nothing 
 impossible to God. And then, when Mary had heard 
 the angel’s full commission, she gave her consent, say- 
 ing : “ Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it done 
 unto me according to thy word.” 
 
 And now, the deep mystery of the Incarnation being 
 wrought the moment that Mary pronounced those con- 
 soling and efficacious words, “be it done,” the Virgin 
 at once left for the mountains of Judea to congratulate 
 her cousin, and attend to her with sisterly care. After 
 a long journey over a rough road, she reached Hebron, 
 and entering the house of Zachary, saluted her relative 
 with virginal candour. The moment Elizabeth heard 
 the salutation of Mary, the child leaped with joy in her 
 womb, and her own soul was filled with the Holy Ghost. 
 Almost beyond herself with happiness and content, she 
 exclaimed to the Virgin : “ Blessed art thou among 
 women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb. And 
 whence is this to me that the Mother of my Lord should 
 come to me P For behold, as soon as the voice of thy 
 salutation sounded in my ears, the infant in my womb 
 leaped for joy. And blessed art thou that hast believed, 
 because those things shall be accomplished that were 
 spoken to thee by the Lord.” And then the spotless 
 Virgin, transported with joy, and full of gratitude for 
 the favours of the Omnipotent, enthusiastically burst 
 forth : — 
 
 “ My soul doth magnify the Lord : And my spirit 
 hath rejoiced in God my Saviour. Because He hath 
 regarded the humility of his handmaid: for behold, 
 from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed. 
 Because He that is mighty hath done great things to 
 me : and holy is his name. And his mercy is from 
 generation unto generation to them that fear Him. He 
 hath showed might in his arm : He hath scattered the 
 proud in the conceit of their heart. He hath put down 
 
 
 
 
HISTORY OF THE HOLY FAMILY. 
 
 59 
 
 the mighty from their seat, and hath exalted the humble. 
 He hath filled the hungry with good things, and the rich 
 He hath sent empty away. He hath received Israel his 
 servant, being mindful of his mercy. As He spoke to 
 our fathers, to Abraham and his seed for ever.” 
 
 Mary remained three months in Elizabeth’s house, and 
 performed for her all the works of charity her generous 
 heart suggested. After filling that house with the aroma 
 of her virtues, she went home, glorifying the Lord for 
 the ineffable graces He had showered on her soul. 
 
 We do not know for certain whether the glorious 
 patriarch, St. Joseph, accompanied his Spouse on this 
 journey, as some writers assure us ; but what the Gospel 
 does tell us is, that when about this time he saw that 
 Mary was with child, alarmed either at the mystery he 
 suspected the Lord had wrought in the Virgin, or at the 
 critical circumstances in which he saw her placed, without 
 knowing the cause, like a just man as he was, who could 
 not doubt of the innocence of his chaste Spouse, he was 
 buried in a sea of affliction and perplexity. What was 
 to be done in these straits ? Should he accuse her before 
 the tribunals ? Such a course were, in his mind, a crime 
 against the manifest sanctity of Mary. Should he con- 
 tinue to live with her ? His delicate conscience, ever 
 anxious to comply with the smallest tittle of the law, 
 did not permit it. In this conflict he was noticed to go 
 about silent and meditative ; and finding no other escape 
 from the difficulty, he resolved to secretly abandon the 
 Virgin, and thus save his own scruples without de laming 
 her. Then it was that an angel appeared to him in a 
 dream, and said : “ Joseph, son of David, fear not to 
 take unto thee Mary thy wife, for that which is con- 
 ceived in her is of the Holy Ghost. She shall bring 
 forth a Son, and thou shalt call his name Jesus, for He 
 shall save his people from their sins.” St. Joseph was 
 tranquillised by this explanation of the mystery, which 
 
60 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 had, indeed, already occurred to him ; and conquering 
 his humility, which induced him to consider himself 
 unworthy of such a charge, he joyfully consented to 
 keep the Selected of the Eternal company. 
 
 Our Lady was now near the end of her nine months 
 of pregnancy, when the emperor, Augustus Caesar, pub- 
 lished an edict commanding all the subjects of his empire 
 to he enrolled. Joseph and Mary were descended from 
 the royal line of David, and consequently had to go from 
 Nazareth to Bethlehem, which was David’s city, to be 
 there enrolled in obedience to the imperial decree. The 
 length of the journey, and Mary’s state, would appear 
 sufficient to dispense them from such a duty ; but the 
 holy consorts humbly and obediently went to Bethlehem, 
 without offering the slightest excuse. When they reached 
 that city, they sought for a lodging ; they tried among 
 their relatives and acquaintances to get a corner 
 where to pass the night ; but as they were poor, all 
 doors were closed against them, and they were obliged 
 to seek for shelter in a stable near the city, which was 
 exposed to all the inclemencies of the season. The 
 B/edeemer of the world, who of His infinite goodness came 
 to preach to us the contempt of riches, honours, and 
 pleasures, which, imposing on the hearts of weak men, 
 far from satisfying them, only excite their devouring 
 thirst, wished to be the first to give us a brilliant ex- 
 ample of abnegation and humility, by choosing of His 
 own free will to come to the world in the midst of such 
 poverty and destitution. 
 
 The Son of God came from Mary’s womb like a ray 
 of light through purest crystal, without detriment to 
 her virginity, or causing the slightest pain to her who 
 had conceived Him without concupiscence. The sove- 
 reign Queen of heaven, filled with ecstasy on contem- 
 plating before her very eyes the Magnet of her soul, but 
 at the same time pierced with sorrow at not being able 
 

 HISTORY OF THE HOLY FAMILY. 
 
 61 
 
 to accommodate tlie Divine Prince as Ms dignity de- 
 served and her own maternal instincts suggested, was 
 compelled to lay the Desired of nations on some cold 
 straw in a manger. But all these circumstances entered 
 into the plans of Divine Providence, to prove to us that 
 poverty and a lowly state, far from being opposed to the 
 true grandeur of man, or to the attainment of virtue 
 and sanctity the most lofty, serve, on the contrary, as 
 powerful aids to fix all our aspirations on God, the only 
 object of our eternal felicity. All the goods of the 
 world are nothing without God ; and God alone, without 
 other good whatever, is sufficient to satisfy the heart 
 ■ of man, and to make us all completely happy. 
 
 In the environs of Bethlehem, where the Son of God 
 was just born, there were many shepherds keeping watch 
 over their flocks. To these simple people rather than 
 to the powerful of the earth, did God wish to first mani- 
 fest the wonderful event which had just happened in 
 that ruinous and abandoned stable. They were attend- 
 ing to their ordinary work, when suddenly, in the midst 
 of torrents of light, whose vivid rays dispelled the dark- 
 ness of night, the angel of the Lord appeared to them. 
 At sight of him they stood transfixed with dread ; but 
 the celestial messenger animated them thus : — “ Fear 
 not, for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy, 
 that shall be to all the people. For this day is born to 
 you a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord, in the city of 
 David. And this shall be a sign unto you ; you shall 
 find the infant wrapped in swaddling clothes, and 
 laid in a manger.” The angel had scarcely finished 
 when sweetest harmony resounded in the air. It came 
 from a multitude of heavenly spirits, who descended to 
 pay homage to the newly-born God ; and offering Him 
 their praises they said ; — “ Glory be to God on high, 
 and peace on earth to men of good will.” When this 
 vision had gone, and while yet the soft echo of the 
 
62 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 angels’ hymn resounded in their ears, the shepherds said 
 one to another : — “ Let us go over to Bethlehem, and. 
 let us see this word that is come to pass.” And they 
 went with haste; and entering the stable they found 
 the Divine Infant and his Mother just as the angels had 
 foretold them. What must have been their joy on be- 
 holding that divine Beauty ! There, surely, after offer- 
 ing their modest gifts, they would on a supernatural 
 impulse, have adored the Infant God ; and would have 
 acknowledged Him as the Author of life, though laid on 
 that poor straw, who, moved by His love, came to lay 
 down His life for us. It was only by doing holy violence 
 to themselves, yet filled with inexplicable joy, could they 
 tear themselves away from that blessed mansion and 
 return to their huts. The certainty of the matter is that 
 they went away praising and glorifying God for all they 
 had seen, and telhng it to everyone they met on the way. 
 All was gratification and content : in every hut around 
 nothing was spoken of but the good news. But Mary, 
 the Mother of the Saviour, preserved in her heart and 
 thought over all she had heard from the lips of the simple 
 shepherds. 
 
 Our Divine Master, not content with giving us so 
 eloquent a lesson in contempt of the world, from his 
 chair in the manger, with the object of still further 
 lowering our vanity and pride, submitted to one of the 
 most humiliating laws of the Jews, that is, to circum- 
 cision. His generous soul would not allow Him to await 
 the sacrifice of the cross, in order to shed his blood for 
 the salvation of men, but urged Him to show us in his 
 tenderest years the anxiety with which He longed to die 
 for our rescue. The Eternal Father, who was accus- 
 tomed to shed the more rays of glory around His beloved 
 Son the more the latter humbled Himself, also heaped 
 honour on Him on this occasion, by ordering that the 
 high, the glorious, the celestial, the sweetest, the divinest 
 
HISTORY OF THE HOLY FAMILY. 
 
 63 
 
 name of Jesus should be given Him. Jesus is a name 
 above all names ; it is a name at the sound of which all 
 the powers of heaven, of earth, and of the abyss prostrate 
 themselves ; it is a name which contains in itself the titles 
 of Admirable, Counsellor, God, Strength, Father of the 
 Future Ages, Prince of Peace, and others, and still others 
 applied to Him by the prophets ; it is a name more sweet 
 than honey, mere enchanting than the harmonies of 
 heaven ; in fine, it is a name which is the firm hope of 
 sinners, the encouragement of the just, and the joy of 
 the blessed. 
 
 When Jesus was born, there appeared in the firma- 
 ment a new star, foretold by Balaam, as an indication of 
 the birth of the Redeemer. The Magi, who were the 
 priests, astronomers, and philosophers of the East, were 
 struck by the apparition of the new star, and left their 
 own distant countries in search of the promised Messias. 
 After some time these strangers entered Jerusalem, 
 inquiring, “ Where is He that is born King of the Jews ? 
 for we have seen his star in the East, and have come to 
 adore Him.” At that time Herod ruled over the Jews, 
 that the prophecy of Jacob might be fulfilled, which 
 fixed the coming of the Anointed for the time when 
 the sceptre of Juda should have passed into the hands 
 of foreigners. On this unexpected apparition of the 
 Magi all the inhabitants of the city were troubled ; and 
 particularly the usurper of the kingdom, who was at the 
 time at Jericho for the cure of the disease which in the 
 end brought him to the grave. The impious king feared 
 lest in reality there had been born the Messias destined 
 to free the chosen people ; but to make himself more 
 certain he collected the priests and scribes, and consulted 
 them about the place indicated by the prophecies for the 
 birth of Christ. When he made sure that this king 
 should be born in Bethlehem of Juda, for so the prophet 
 Michels had foretold, he called the Magi apart to answer 
 
64 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 their question. He inquired minutely the time the new 
 and mysterious star had appeared, and with refined 
 malice dismissed them, saying : “ Go and diligently 
 
 inquire after the Child, and when you have found him, 
 bring me word again, that I also may come and adore 
 him.” 
 
 With this the Magi went their way, and behold, the 
 star which they had seen in the East again appeared to 
 them, and, going before, guided them to the poor stable 
 in which the King of Glory was lodged. Joyful indeed 
 were they on again beholding the star, and when they 
 reached the stable it stopped over the place where lay 
 the Saviour ; and entering in, they found the Child and 
 his Mother. Illumined by the light of faith, without 
 being scandalised by the poverty of the newly-born, or 
 the humbleness of his surroundings, they bent their 
 knees before the lowly Infant, religiously adored Him, 
 and offered Him rich gifts of gold, frankincense, and 
 myrrh, the symbols of the royalty, divinity, and human- 
 ity of Jesus Christ. When the wise men had fulfilled 
 the object of their journey they prepared to return to 
 their homes, passing by Jerusalem to pay their respects 
 to Herod ; but the Lord, whose breath can dissipate the 
 wicked plans of the impious, decreed on this occasion to 
 mock the depraved intentions of the tyrant. With this 
 object He sent to them his angel, who appeared to the 
 pilgrims in a dream, and told them not to return to the 
 palace of the Idumean, but to take another road and go 
 home quietly, without seeing him. They carried out these 
 orders punctually, and so frustrated the plans of the 
 impious monarch who had designs on the life of the 
 Divine Infant, fearing lest he might some day be de- 
 throned by Him. 
 
St. Severus. 
 

 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 >m£S II. 
 
 SAINT SEVERUS, WOOL- WEAVER. 
 
 I. 
 
 About the middle of the fourth century the Omnipotent 
 raised a humble weaver to the dignity of bishop, that 
 he who had been the model of laborious artisans might 
 become the same of zealous pastors of His Church. 
 According to some writers Severus was born in Milan, 
 whence he went to Ravenna, where he earned his 
 support by weaving wool. With the object of avoiding 
 the risks and dangers of the world, in whose snares 
 he saw not a few entangled, he contracted marriage 
 with a pious girl called Vicencia. The whole anxiety 
 of these holy spouses was to serve God with all 
 their strength, and to foment mutual love and affection, 
 as real Christian married people should. In the 
 course of time the Lord blessed their union with a 
 daughter, whom they called Inocencia. It is needless 
 to say that the child scarcely reached the years to be 
 instructed when her Christian parents turned all their 
 attention to imbuing her with the maxims of virtue, as tho 
 
68 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 best inheritance they conld give her ; for well they knew 
 that it is not the riches of the world which make man 
 really happy on earth, but the peace which springs from 
 the exact fulfilment of our duties, and the sure hope of 
 one day inheriting the eternal kingdom of glory. The 
 three lived poorly enough, the mother and daughter 
 spinning and reeling, and the father weaving the wool, 
 yet more happy and contented with their humble lot 
 than the ambitious ones of the world with their fabu- 
 lous wealth. What is wanting to him who has God in 
 his heart, and what good are all his riches to him who 
 has the devil in it ? These thoughts were the rule of 
 conduct of the poor woolers, as they were called for a 
 nickname. Enemies to detraction, jests, fraud, and in- 
 justice, they knew how to harmonise labour with piety, 
 poverty with almsgiving, and true joy with the penal- 
 ties of this exile. Thus did this holy family pass their 
 time without minding the madness and vanity of the 
 world, and certainly far from imagining the lofty de- 
 signs the Omnipotent had with regard to them. 
 
 An event happened in the life of our saint which 
 attracted the attention not only of the city but of all 
 Europe. When Marcelinus, Bishop of Ravenna, died, 
 about the year 346, the neighbouring pastors met to 
 name his successor, as usual, and they ordered a Triduum 
 for the Lord to manifest His divine will in a matter of 
 such importance. There was a rumour in the city that 
 God had often, in His ineffable providence, sent a dove 
 which would alight on the head of the elect, and it was 
 believed that a like event would happen now. As 
 Severus was extremely truthful and simple, he gave 
 entire credit to these rumours. The servant of God 
 was busy at his work when the hour for the ceremony 
 came. He made up his mind to attend it, and said 
 to his wife: — “What do you think, Yicencia ? I am 
 going to see that miracle they are talking about, and to 
 know on whom the dove will alight.” To which his 
 wife answered: “Don’t be foolish, and mind your work, 
 

 ST. SEYERÜS. 69 
 
 for we stand in need of it. What good will it do yon ? 
 It is the same to yon whether yon go or stay, for they 
 are not going to make yon bishop : bless yonrself, and 
 attend to yonr business.” “No matter, I will go,” said 
 the good weaver. “Away with you, then, and as soon as 
 yon arrive yon will see the dove will alight on yon, yon 
 may be sure. But, good gracious ! how will yon go among 
 decent people with those old rags on yon. ? ” But neither 
 joke nor earnest could keep Severus, and folding up his 
 greasy apron, away he went to the church. All the 
 clergy and the magnates of the city were in the temple. 
 As Severns was so poorly clad he hid behind the door, 
 where, without being observed, he could see the whole 
 ceremony. When the prayer was over, and all was in 
 deep silence, a dove was noticed fluttering in the air, 
 and it went and alighted on Severus. The saint, 
 
 , ashamed that a man in such rags should attract the 
 attention of so respectable a congregation, scared it 
 away. But seeing that no matter how he hunted it the 
 dove alit the second and third time on the poor weaver, 
 the prelates and people were astonished, and recogni- 
 sing in it the hand of God, they proclaimed him bishop. 
 Several acquaintances ran to tell the news to Yicencia, 
 and she answered, laughing: — “ Oh! of course, he would 
 ■make, a splendid bishop without a word in his head.” 
 But hearing it was no joke, and others coming with 
 
 I the same news, she called her daughter, and the two 
 ran to the church to make sure of the fact. Astounded 
 at the event, they fell on their knees and gave thanks 
 to God, who exalts the humble and humbles the proud. 
 
 II. 
 
 Severus was sent to Rome, and was consecrated bishop 
 by Pope Julius. The new pastor, persuaded that the 
 Lord would exact a rigorous account from him of the 
 discharge of the dignity he had just received, displayed 
 extraordinary zeal in the interest of his flock. He knew 
 
70 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 that the Sovereign Judge is not content with pretexts, 
 and that it is not enough to say to Him : “ I have 
 guarded the vineyard of the Lord,” whilst from human 
 respect, from a love of false peace, thorns and thistles are 
 allowed to grow. He knew that the truth cannot be hid- 
 den from His eyes, and he endeavoured in everything to 
 follow the dictates of reason, and to despise flattery and 
 lies. With only the Christian doctrine, the compen- 
 dium of the most holy and finished code, in which is 
 found the solution of the deepest problems about our 
 origin, our duties, and our end, with only the Catechism 
 he guided his flock with all security to salutary pas- 
 tures, and kept it away from the poisonous fields of 
 impiety and heresy. He was one of the bishops who 
 attended the Council of Sardica in defence of the 
 Catholic Faith. He was beloved and venerated at home 
 and abroad, not only for his zeal and heroic virtues, 
 but for the prodigious wisdom which the Holy Ghost in- 
 fused into him. And the numerous miracles with which 
 the Lord illustrated his career contributed not a little to 
 gain him the respect of all. 
 
 As soon as Severas was elected and consecrated 
 bishop, according to the custom and the canons of the 
 Church, he separated from his spouse, never more to 
 see or treat with her except as a sister. The holy bishop 
 guided her and her daughter with saintly counsels on the 
 road of virtue, and one and the other so co-operated 
 that they daily grew in sanctity. The mother put on a 
 widow’s veil, and the daughter a virgin’s, and all were 
 edified by their life and Christian deportment. At last 
 came the final hour for Yicencia, now mature for heaven, 
 and she was buried in a poor grave. After a little the 
 daughter followed her, to the great grief of her father, 
 who dearly loved her. Is it any wonder a father should 
 weep for the death of a beloved child ? Grace does not 
 destroy nature, but only elevates and perfects it. The 
 holy man, though submissive to the Divine Will, when 
 laying her in the tomb wept bitterly in sight of the 
 
 
ST. CUTHMAN. 
 
 71 
 
 people, who were deeply moved by the tears of their 
 venerable pastor. But this was not able to cool in the 
 slightest degree his zeal for the salvation of his flock ; 
 on the contrary, as the persons he most loved in this 
 world were leaving him, and the tremendous day of his 
 own account was drawing nigh, he redoubled his efforts 
 to bring back the stray sheep to the fold, and to enliven 
 the spirit of those who remained firm and constant. 
 His last hour arrived. After gathering a copious harvest 
 of merit, now at the humble trade of weaver, now in 
 the noble dignity of prelate, he received from heaven a 
 notice that the day of his departure was at hand. When 
 it arrived he celebrated the divine offices with all so- 
 lemnity, surrounded by his priests and people; and 
 then, as usual with him, delivered to them a fervent 
 sermon, exhorting them to preserve pure and intact the 
 Catholic Faith, and to mutually foment Christian union 
 and charity. When this was over he ordered them to 
 open the grave in which his wife and daughter rested, 
 and lying down in it, clothed in his sacred vestments, 
 giving a last adieu to his flock, and blessing the Lord of 
 Mercies, he expired full of days and virtues. His death 
 occurred at the end of the fourth century, about the 
 year 390. The Most High honoured the tomb of that 
 holy family with repeated miracles. Thus does the 
 Lord reward those who are docile to His inspirations, 
 and endeavour to sanctify themselves in the state to 
 which He calls them. 
 
 SAINT CUTHMAN, SHEPHERD. 
 
 I. 
 
 Beautiful and rare examples of filial love did a simple 
 shepherd, educated in the solitude of the fields, bequeath 
 to the faithful. This was Cuthman, an Englishman by 
 birth who, according to the Bollandists, lived at the end of 
 
72 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 the ninth century.* There flourished, in him a singular 
 obedience to and yearning love for his parents, and these 
 flowers were cultivated by them with extreme care in 
 the docile heart of their son. Poor in temporal goods, 
 but rich in the gifts of heaven, they taught him from 
 his earliest years to honour and love God by strict com- 
 pliance with the divine commandments. “ Son,” they 
 used to say to him, “ fear not men ; nor through respect 
 for them ever break the divine law, for all the harm 
 they can do is to deprive us of this miserable life, which 
 sooner or later we must lose. But fear God, who can 
 deprive us of eternal life, and bury us for our sins in 
 never-ending torments.” These Christian maxims were 
 so engraved on the heart of Cuthman, that, growing 
 daily in virtue and grace, he was the delight of his poor 
 parents, who hoped he should be the staff of their old 
 age. Whilst yet but a child he appeared to be a grown- 
 up man in the correct judgment he formed of things. 
 Never, though poor, did he allow himself to be dazzled 
 by the lustre of the fleeting goods of earth, for he 
 knew that they were only apparent goods, soap bubbles, 
 which fascinate with their varied colours the eye of the 
 ignorant, but vanish when touched; aloe-juice mixed 
 with honey, which is sweet to the taste, but in reality 
 fills the heart with bitterness : a poison which causes 
 death, though decked off to the eye or served up 
 in golden cups. Hence he avoided the vain and 
 dangerous diversions of the tavern, and the meetings of 
 dissolute youth, who seek after pleasures unworthy 
 hearts created for God. Trained in his happy poverty 
 by the teaching and example of his parents, he seemed 
 like a man who regarded the world as a disguised, lying, 
 and seductive enemy, which promises pleasures, but 
 spills over the heart of its followers a chalice of gall. 
 Thus did those Christian parents rear the son the Lord 
 had given them : and they certainly had no cause to re- 
 pent it. 
 
 *Butler says he flourished about the eighth century. 
 
ST. CUTHMAN. 
 
 73 
 
 For as those who with impious maxims and perverse 
 examples corrupt their innocent offspring, generally 
 gather in the end briers and thorns, and have to bewail 
 the uneasiness and anxiety which their dissolute and 
 dissipated children without the slightest compunction 
 cause them ; so on the contrary, those who bring up 
 those tender souls in piety and the fear of God, usually 
 obtain in their filial affection the reward of their paternal 
 toil. And thus did it happen with these pious parents. 
 As soon as the eager youth had strength to help them, 
 he desired to share in the domestic labours, and was al- 
 ways ready to obey their orders, how difficult so ever 
 they might appear. When sent to mind his father’s 
 flock, he was extremely careful of his sheep ; and he 
 managed so that he had always some little time to spare 
 to relieve his parents of the burden of their toil. To 
 this exactness in the fulfilment of his duties he knew 
 how to join piety to God, now by giving himself to 
 prayer in the midst of his pastoral labours, now by 
 meditating on those Christian maxims, with which he 
 was imbued, thus corresponding to the wishes of his 
 parents. 
 
 He never caused them pain ; he never disobeyed their 
 orders, nor showed signs of displeasure in fulfilling any 
 of their commands, for he looked on his parents as the 
 representatives of God. It happened one day that as 
 he was herding as usual, the dinner- hour arrived, at 
 which, according to his father’s instructions, he should 
 be at home ; but as he had no one to take his place, and, 
 on the other hand, was afraid to leave the flock without 
 express orders, he was for some time perplexed, and 
 knew not what to do. He stopped a little in doubt and 
 began to think ; and at last, after having recourse to 
 God, he was moved by a secret impulse, and taking his 
 crook, drew a circle with it round his charge, and 
 said : “ In the name of God I command you not to pass 
 this line,” and he went home, confiding in Divine Provi- 
 dence. Nor was he disappointed, for on his return he 
 
74 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 found the sheep collected as he desired. Now he knew 
 what to do in future, whenever any necessity should 
 occur, or he should have to obey some order, or wish to 
 attend to his prayers ; and his devotion was deepened 
 very much by these favours. With a son so amiable, 
 devout, and solicitous for the good of the house, and so 
 favoured of heaven, that family lived surrounded by 
 enviable peace and happiness. But when they least ex- 
 pected it, the Lord visited them with their cross. 
 
 II. 
 
 The Almighty called away the father, who died a 
 Christian death, leaving his wife in deepest affliction for 
 a loss so irreparable. She found, however, in Cuthman 
 the heart of a true son, a son who was always and on all 
 occasions the soother of her grief, the light of her eyes, 
 the balsam of her affliction, the staff of her old age. 
 That charitable son, tried in every way — left no stone un- 
 turned — to mitigate the pain of his afflicted mother. 
 And, indeed, his Christian maxims, the only ones capa- 
 ble of infusing true peace into a heart in tribulation, no 
 less than his prompt obedience and incessant care, some- 
 times did almost appease the sorrow of the poor widow. 
 Attentive and laborious, he not only carried on the 
 business of the house, but even tried to save a little, that 
 he might be able to make some present to his mother. 
 The good youth got it into his head that the principal 
 thing that God wanted from him was not great fasts 
 and corporal mortifications, but that he should tenderly 
 look after her who gave him being, with the firm hope 
 that the Lord would take as done to Himself whatever 
 he should do for her, and give him in return the crown 
 of eternal glory. However, no day passed in which his 
 prayers did not ascend like a fragrant cloud of incense 
 to the throne of the Almighty, whence through the 
 intercession of the Immaculate Virgin streams of grace 
 
ST. CUTHMAN. 
 
 75 
 
 and sweetness flowed on Ms soul. In tMs way were 
 son and mother passing their exile, conforming in all 
 tMngs to the Divine Will, content with their poverty and 
 mingling acts of piety with their labour, like good 
 Christians, when sickness came to weaken and almost 
 paralyse the good widow. 
 
 Then more than ever did the filial affection of Cuth- 
 man show itself. He neglected all else to attend to the 
 care and consolation of his mother. He joyfully bore 
 her peevishness and ill-humour, the offspring of old age 
 and of suffering and privation. He tried to please her 
 without betraying the least sign of weariness or impati- 
 ence, firmly convinced he could do nothing more agreeable 
 to God. As her illness was a long one, and Cuthman 
 could not leave her to attend to his business, the little 
 they had was gradually consumed, till they were reduced 
 to the direst straits. The good shepherd knew that God 
 could provide for them in extraordinary and miraculous 
 ways, but he did not hope nor ask for this, for they are 
 not always the means most suited to His glory or the 
 good of our souls. His industrious charity consequently 
 sought a way by which he could tend his sick mother 
 and implore his neighbour’s charity. For this purpose, 
 with the little that remained he made a litter in form 
 of a cart, which he could draw without inconveni- 
 ence to her. Contented with this invention, he placed 
 the patient on it, and leaving his hut and his village, 
 went through the world to beg the necessaries of life 
 for her. 
 
 III. 
 
 In this nomadic life, naturally dissipated and exposed 
 to many dangers, this good son found means to sanctify 
 himself. He suffered with heroic resignation the priva- 
 tions which such a life entailed ; and the scoffs of men 
 made no impression on him, nor did the obstacles he 
 met dishearten him. Animated by a lively faith, he 
 
76 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 hoped for everything from God; and his filial love 
 rendered sweet that which would have proved hitter to 
 others with less virtue than our saint. When passing 
 one day through a meadow where some men were mow- 
 ing, the cords attached to his cart broke, and he knew 
 not how to get on ; but without uttering an impatient 
 word, he blessed the Lord, as he did in all his mishaps, 
 and tried to get out of his difficulty. For this purpose, 
 finding nothing better at hand, he cut some willow 
 twigs, and platting them together, fixed them to his 
 cart. The mowers, amused at the simplicity of the 
 servant of God, began to mock and jibe him, and as 
 people without the fear of God usually do, ended by 
 loading him with taunts and nicknames. The good 
 Cuthman held his tongue, suffering all for the love of 
 J esus, but soon heaven spoke on behalf of the innocent. 
 The sky was suddenly covered with dark clouds and 
 discharged on the wretches such a terrible tempest that 
 they could not, though late, but acknowledge in it the 
 just hand of the God of vengeance. Cuthman felt for 
 the misfortune of the mockers, but could only bless 
 God, who thus protects his innocent servants. 
 
 Thankful for the ineffable favours he had received 
 from the Omnipotent, who consoled him in his painful 
 toil and discomforts, which he always bore patiently to 
 please God and assist his mother, he made a vow to 
 build with alms a temple wherever his cords should 
 again break, providing the patient should receive no 
 hurt. Having arrived at Steninges, a place in Nor- 
 mandy,* they suddenly broke, and the poor old widow’s 
 cart was upset. Cuthman was alarmed at the accident, 
 believing his mother was seriously hurt ; but finding she 
 was not injured in the least, he joyfully exclaimed : “Sweet 
 Jesus mine, who in my journey hast provided me with 
 food and clothing, I return Thee infinite thanks for Thy 
 Fatherly providence. Without being an acceptor of 
 
 * Butler says, more correctly, in England. 
 
ST. CÜTHMAN. 
 
 77 
 
 persons, Thou lovest us from all eternity. Behold me 
 here ready to fulfil my promise. Poor and wretched I 
 am, but with Thy aid I can do everything. Assist me 
 to do the work with which Thou didst inspire me.” 
 
 Near Steninges, on the side of a hill, now cultivated 
 with great care, and watered by two springs which 
 fertilise it, there was then nothing but underwood, the 
 home of the wolf and the viper. Cuthman, assisted by 
 the generosity of some farmers of the neighbourhood, 
 built a hut to shelter his mother, and with the abundant 
 alms he received laid the foundation of a small church. 
 Crowds from the surrounding country flocked to the 
 place, not only to see the new building, but to hear the 
 holy words of the servant of God. The saint toiled the 
 whole day like any of his workmen, and passed a good 
 part of the night in prayer. “ Lord,” he used to say, 
 “ this will be the place of my rest : hither shall I come 
 all the days of my life to render Thee my poor homage.” 
 The. servant of God did not rest till he saw his work 
 crowned with success. They were one time in a great 
 difficulty when one of the principal beams bent, to the 
 imminent danger of bringing down the whole building. 
 Cuthman had recourse to the remedy for all his ills — 
 prayer — the more efficacious from his spirit of simplicity, 
 abnegation, meekness, humility, and obedience — virtues 
 which had cast deep roots in the heart of the saint. In 
 their greatest straits a devout pilgrim appeared on the 
 scene, and said to them : “ Why are you sad ? v And 
 when told the cause of their grief he answered : 
 “ You will see how soon this can be remedied,” and the 
 beam was miraculously put right in a second. When 
 Cuthman saw the prodigy, he threw himself at the 
 stranger’s feet, and said : “I beseech thee, tell me who 
 thou art ?” And the pilgrim answered : “ I am the Lord, 
 to whom thou art raising this temple, in which my name 
 shall be glorified.” And on saying this, He disappeared. 
 Notwithstanding this favour, the good shepherd did not 
 recede from his holy resolves and exemplary conduct in 
 
78 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 the slightest degree, convinced that he only shall he 
 crowned who shall fight to the end. On the contrary, 
 redoubling his fervour, he dedicated himself with in- 
 creased solicitude to the divine service and the care of 
 his sick mother. At last he had the gratification of 
 seeing the Lord glorified in the holy house he had built 
 to His honour, and to which all the Catholics of the 
 neighbourhood piously flocked. A few years after the 
 death of his mother, whom he attended with unrivalled 
 care till he closed her eyes, Cuthman also went to glory 
 to receive the eternal reward of his labours, and parti- 
 cularly of his edifying filial love. God glorified this 
 servant of His with many miracles, as well during his 
 life as after his death. His name is found in the missal 
 used by the Anglo-Saxons before the Norman Conquest 
 of England. ( His feast was kept on the 8th of February. ) 
 
 ST. SERENUS, GARDENER, MARTYR. 
 
 I. 
 
 S erenus, a Greek, anxious to live forgotten by the world 
 and dedicated entirely to the service of God, sold all he 
 had, and leaving country, friends, and acquaintances, 
 retired to Panonia, there to lead an obscure and penitent 
 life. The saint knew how much seclusion contributes 
 to spiritual improvement ; and hence all the goods of the 
 world appeared to him as nothing, and he hesitated not 
 to renounce them on condition of securing a retired life, 
 far from the bustle and traffic of ordinary existence. It 
 is certain that taking part in the talk of the day will 
 soon change a devout and recollected person into a 
 distracted and dissipated one ; and, on the contrary, by 
 avoiding idle conversations, he quickly becomes devout 
 and fervent, and a portrait of Jesus Christ. Would to 
 God that souls desirous of perfection would become 
 convinced of this truth, and, like St. Serenus, purchase 
 this retirement at the cost even of all the world loves 
 
ST. SERENUS. 
 
 79 
 
 most ! Though I may wander a little from my subject, 
 I will here dwell on the dangers of dissipation, and, as 
 a consequence, on the advantages the saint derived from 
 this costly withdrawal from the world. 
 
 He who does not live an interior life seeks in the 
 exterior something to lighten his heart, and takes 
 pleasure in conversations, useless at least, if not vain 
 and dangerous — conversations which, if it were only the 
 loss of precious time incurred in them, would be highly 
 objectionable. But the worst is that they leave the 
 heart so distracted, so dry, and disgusted with every 
 exercise of virtue, that all the practices of piety, and all 
 the ordinary works that might be sanctified by recollec- 
 tion and parity of intention are lost on account of the 
 want of care in performing them. And so, from one 
 mistake, apparently so light, as is the loss of time in 
 talking about foolish things, springs another much more 
 serious one, which is the waste of the rest of the day, 
 and of all the merits which might be gained by employ- 
 ing it properly. If we consider it well, we shall see 
 that the treasures of grace we could heap up are innu- 
 merable, not only by hearing Mass, reciting the Rosary, 
 reading pious books, and other spiritual and holy 
 exercises, but also by our ordinary labours, which, 
 though temporal, may be spiritualised by obedience or 
 pure intention. And all is lost through dissipation, 
 which prevents us from doing good works with the 
 attention and devotion required to make them meri- 
 torious, and from sanctifying indifferent ones, as we do 
 when our end in performing them is to please God. And 
 all this is lost by not firmly putting down our foot on 
 worldly talk, which usually is the root of all the distrac- 
 tions and idleness in which time is uselessly squandered. 
 
 Hence the Holy Ghost, with all the earnestness the 
 matter deserves, not only counsels us to utilise the day 
 He gives us, but does not wish us to lose the smallest 
 particle or the slightest moment of that day ; and as all 
 days are holy and suitable for doing good and increasing 
 
80 
 
 LIGHT FEOM THE LOWLY. 
 
 our deserts, He exhorts us to not let a single point of 
 our lives pass unawares. For, as those who deal in 
 gold and precious stones will not lose the very filings, 
 because they know there is great value even in small 
 quantities, so we should deal with time, whose value is 
 so great that a single moment may merit an eternity of 
 glory or deserve an eternity of punishment. The more 
 of heaven do we gain the more of time we employ well. 
 Hence St. Bernard says that “time is worth as much as 
 God.” What a pity we do not esteem it at its just 
 value, and only try to kill time ! There is nothing more 
 precious than time, and yet the lukewarm think there 
 is nothing more vile and of less value. These unhappy 
 people lose much in losing it, for if, as they say, gold is 
 what gold is worth, he who loses time loses heaven, for 
 its moments are worth an eternity of glory. 
 
 And thus our saint was so solicitous of availing him- 
 self of time, of which intercourse with his acquaintances 
 and friends, and the care of his property robbed him, 
 that he renounced all, that he might not lose the smallest 
 particle of so precious a treasure. He was so convinced 
 of the immense value that an instant contains, that he 
 was as avaricious of time as the miser is of his gold. 
 And really we should be more on our guard against 
 those who deprive us of it without our knowing than 
 against robbers who might wrench from us fleeting goods 
 with open violence : for we could entertain hopes of 
 some day recovering the latter, but time once lost can 
 never be restored. Hence, even in the shades of paganism, 
 Seneca said : “ Give not your time to anyone, for know 
 that it is a gift so precious, that the most grateful man 
 to whom you may give it, can never return it, nor give 
 you its equivalent ” Love can be repaid with love, and 
 a present with a greater one ; but time prodigally 
 wasted on another can receive no due recompense ; on 
 the contrary, the visit of to-day, with which you pay 
 that of yesterday, is a new loss of the time which God 
 gave you to earn fresh treasures in heaven. 
 
ST. SERENÜS. 
 
 81 
 
 II. 
 
 Through the sacred avarice of time, and for the 
 purpose of increasing his wealth of grace, Serenus took 
 up his residence in Sirmium, where, with what he had 
 preserved from the price of his property he bought a 
 garden, that he might unite prayer with labour. He 
 cultivated it with great care, and from its fruits derived 
 what he needed for his support, and the relief of the 
 indigent. He now thought he had secured the peace 
 and retirement he desired. He contentedly laboured to 
 improve the time the Lord gave him, mingling the 
 exercise of piety with the cultivation of his little pro- 
 perty, but, in order to escape from the rigours of the 
 persecution excited against the Christians, he was 
 forced to abandon his retirement, and seek a more 
 secure asylum. But his love of silence and a retired 
 life soon urged him to return to his beloved garden, and 
 leave himself in the hands of Divine Providence. Heed- 
 less to say that now as ever his whole anxiety was to 
 please Jesus in everything, that he might merit to go 
 with Him to the espousals of the Lamb, and sit with 
 Him at the table of the strong, and victoriously struggle 
 in temptation against his enemies. When his body, 
 fatigued with toil or penance, sought for rest, Serenus 
 did not admit the excuse of some people, that the eter- 
 nal reward for which he laboured may be secured in an 
 hour, and that there is time enough for everything. 
 
 Ho; like a good dealer in celestial pearls, he was 
 not deceived by the suggestions of hell, but worked 
 hard and constantly to merit more and more grace in 
 the eyes of Jesus Christ. What a treasure he laid up 
 by this laudable conduct ! Fools that we are ! If in 
 an hour we can secure an eternal good, why do we not 
 add to the treasure by employing well the hours we 
 waste in stories and slander, and so become rich in a 
 short time, heaping eternal wealth on eternal wealth ? 
 These were the thoughts which animated Serenus in his 
 
 6 
 
82 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 labours, very different, indeed, from those entertained 
 by ber who was the cause of bis death. 
 
 One day, when our saintly gardener was at work, a 
 lady with her two daughters came in to take a walk. 
 When Serenus saw them, he asked : “ What do you 
 want here?” “I am in love with your garden,” 
 answered the lady, “ and I have come for a little amuse- 
 ment.” “ Better you were at home in your own house,” 
 said Serenus. “Women of your condition do not come 
 out to walk at this hour.” And the good gardener, 
 penetrating the unhappy lady’s intention, added : 
 “ Some other motive has brought you here. Go away 
 as quick as you can, for I am not the man you think, 
 and be more careful for the future.” They went away 
 crestfallen, and Serenus thought over the great dangers 
 which the world’s servitors incur. There is much to 
 meditate on, and even to learn in their mistakes. And 
 in reality, if we throw our eyes over that valley of tears, 
 we shall be filled with confusion when we see how luke- 
 warm we are in seeking for heaven, and how anxious 
 worldlings are to gain perishable goods. Without con- 
 sidering the toil and unrest the seekers after pleasure 
 have to undergo, see how absorbed the majority of men 
 are in their gains and speculations, without losing a 
 moment’s time. Artisans, who labour and sweat from 
 sunrise to sunset, have sometimes to be forced to rest 
 and observe a holiday. Farmers in their fields, mer- 
 chants at their desks, professional men at their books, 
 all are as solicitous about their respeetive interests as if 
 life depended on them. But what neglect and careless- 
 ness in the only business that really concerns them — 
 the sanctification of their souls ! But why do I say 
 carelessness, when many, like these unhappy women 
 seek themselves their eternal ruin, and cannot suffer 
 that any charitable soul should try to put them on the 
 right road? And so it happened with this unfor- 
 tunate one. 
 
ST. SERENU . 
 
 83 
 
 III. 
 
 The lady was vexed at the salutary advice of Serenus, 
 and went away resolved on vengeance, not alone for the 
 insult of being ordered out of the garden, but also be- 
 cause she could not carry out her infamous intention. 
 She immediately wrote a feeling letter to her husband, 
 who was in the army of Maximianus, complaining 
 bitterly of the violence she pretended Serenus had 
 offered her. The husband, as soon as he received the 
 complaints of his wife, went to the emperor to demand 
 justice for his outraged honour. “ Sire,” said he, 
 “ whilst we sacrifice our lives and shed our blood in your 
 majesty’s service, our wives, unavoidably separated from 
 us, are exposed to the violence and sensuality of infamous 
 corrupters.” As soon as the sovereign was informed of 
 the injury the officer thought he had suffered, he gave 
 him a rescript addressed to the governor of the province,, 
 in which he commanded him to see that full satisfaction 
 was given to the outraged husband. 
 
 In the meantime Serenus was occupied in cultivating 
 his little property, and more so in enriching his soul with 
 heavenly merits, living joyful and content, and almost 
 entirely forgetful of the scene which occurred some 
 days before in his garden. The devout gardener was- 
 far from thinking of the tempest which was gathering 
 around him. The officer, as soon as he got the emperor’s 
 letter, left immediately for Sirmium in hot haste. He 
 presented the rescript to the governor, and demanded 
 vengeance for the outrage offered him through his wife. 
 “ Well,” said the governor, “ who is the insolent wretch 
 who dared to insult the honour of a lady whose husband 
 followed the emperor in his campaign ? ” “ He is a low 
 
 gardener,” said the officer, “called Serenus.” After 
 inquiring into all the circumstances, the governor com- 
 manded that he should be taken and brought before him, 
 that he might receive due punishment. As soon as the 
 prisoner arrived the judge asked him what was his- 
 
84 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 name. “ 1 am called Serenas,” answered the gardener. 
 “What business do you follow?” “I am a gardener.” 
 “How did you dare,” replied the governor, “to insult 
 tbe wife of an officer so distinguished in the imperial 
 service ?” “With great respect to you,” said Serenus, 
 “ I can assure you I never in my life insulted any 
 woman.” When the judge saw that the accused 
 roundly denied the crime with which he was charged 
 he ordered him to be put to the torture till he acknow- 
 ledged the offence committed in his own garden. When 
 Serenus heard his garden mentioned he remembered 
 the scene which occurred with the lady, and added : — 
 “ How I recollect that some time ago a lady came at a 
 wrong hour to take a walk, as she said. I do not deny 
 that I then took the liberty to tell her that it was not 
 proper for a person of her sex and rank to go out for a 
 walk to such a place at such a time.” The sincerity of 
 the gardener, and his prudent answer, opened the eyes 
 of the husband to the conduct his wife observed in 
 his absence, and he was covered with shame at his haste 
 and impetuosity, and did not again ask the governor 
 for vengeance against a man he believed was thoroughly 
 innocent. 
 
 IY. 
 
 There was a something or other in the face of the 
 •servant of God, through mortification and constant 
 intercourse with the Lord in the midst of his toil, which 
 plainly told everyone who saw him that he was a 
 •disciple of Jesus Christ. The fervent gardener knew 
 how to avail himself of the very objects of his care, to 
 raise his heart to heaven, and daily grow in perfection. 
 The flowers, the shrubs, the trees, the streams, the 
 birds, appeared to call to him and invite him, the first 
 with their aromas, and the second with their murmurs 
 nnd songs, to bless and love his Creator. The former 
 would silently teach him that as through the careless- 
 
ST. SERENUS. 
 
 85 
 
 ness and negligence of the gardener they died smothered 
 by noxious herbs or yielded no fruit for want of pru- 
 ning, so the soul without constant vigilance and the 
 frequent watering of prayer, and without the pruning 
 of mortification, instead of giving the fruit of solid 
 virtues loses its juice in vanities, and produces nothing 
 but the weeds of sin. These thoughts animated him to 
 labour in his own sanctification, and impressed on his 
 i countenance the character of mortification and penance. 
 
 This, and the freedom with which he dismissed the 
 officer’s wife from his garden to avoid all danger, made 
 the governor suspect that Serenus was a Christian. 
 Continuing, then, his examination, but changing the 
 subject, he asked him what his religion was. “ I am 
 a Christian,” answered Serenus, without hesitating a 
 moment. “ How did you elude,” replied the judge, 
 “ the emperor’s orders commanding all to offer sacrifice 
 to the gods?” “ The Lord so arranged it,” answered 
 the saint, “ as He now has disposed that I should confess 
 my faith openly.” “ Do you know,’’ said the governor, 
 “ the penalty incurred by those who refuse to adore our 
 gods?” “I know it,” replied the martyr, “and I am 
 prepared to give a thousand lives sooner than deny 
 Jesus, my God, the Sovereign Judge of the living and 
 the dead.” The president, full of rage at the frank and 
 Christian confession of the saint, ordered him to be 
 beheaded in punishment of his obstinacy. They imme- 
 diately conducted the invincible athlete to the place of 
 punishment, and when his head was separated from his 
 body his soul flew to put on the eternal crown of mar- 
 tyrdom. This glorious tragedy took place about the 
 the year 303, according to the Bollandists, and according 
 to Godescard, on the 23rd of February, 307. God 
 grant that we may all imitate his care and diligence in 
 availing ourselves of time, and his serene disregard of 
 human respect. Amen. 
 
86 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 ST. MARGARET OF CORTONA, DRESSMAKER. 
 
 I. 
 
 St. Margaret of Cortona, so called because she spent 
 the greater part of her life and died in that city, was 
 born in Labiano, a place in the diocese of Chin si, in 
 Tuscany, about the year 1250. Her parents were 
 good Christian labourers, who gave her a virtuous 
 education. She could scarcely lisp when her mother 
 taught her devout prayers, which Margaret never 
 forgot, and recited with great fervour even in the last 
 years of her pilgrimage in this valley of tears. But 
 unfortunately, about her seventh year she lost her dili- 
 gent and tender mother, and with her the stimulus and 
 love for virtue and the practices of piety. The poor 
 child, when she found herself deprived . of the affection 
 of her mother, and had to bear with the hardness of a 
 stepmother, her father having married again, sought 
 elsewhere the love she missed at home, and, carried 
 away by the impulses of corrupt nature, abandoned 
 herself to a dissipated and libertine life. Gifted with a 
 lively disposition and singular beauty, she thought of 
 nothing but adorning herself and attracting the looks of 
 men. Unfortunate girl ! She knew not that immodest 
 adornments and luxury are the ruin of chastity. Ter- 
 tullian thinks it impossible for a girl to be pure and 
 chaste who intentionally tries to look well in the eyes of 
 those who see her, or to please Christ if she desires to 
 please men, for it is the same as to serve two masters, 
 and Christ will not be half-served. And St. Cyprian 
 asks : “ Do you imagine that the bold attempt to adorn 
 and dress yourself to the offence of God, who made you, 
 will pass unpunished ? Do not tell me you are virtuous, 
 and that it is not to please men. It is bad enough in 
 any case to see you forgetful of God, and amusing 
 yourself and taking pleasure in such things.” Let this 
 prudent counsel be taken to heart by those who, when 
 
ST. MARGARET OF CORTONA. 
 
 87 
 
 dressing loosely, allege that chastity is not in the gar- 
 ment but in the sonl. This, I am sure, poor Margaret 
 would say also, and her rashness carried her over the 
 precipice. The short resources of her family could not, 
 and even if they could her parents would not, meet the 
 demands of her immoderate adornments and diversions. 
 To supply herself with means she so abandoned herself 
 to a lascivious life that, despite the corrections of her 
 father and the warnings, perhaps a little bitter, of her 
 stepmother, in the flower of her youth she became the 
 stumbling- block of her neighbours. There is no doubt 
 that the anxiety for grand things, inherited from their 
 mother Eve, is the most ordinary bait with which the 
 devil hooks young girls and hurries tl\em to ruin. 
 
 The incautious Margaret fell into the snares of one of 
 those infamous men who boast of their corruption and 
 impure conquests. A young gentleman of the neigh- 
 bouring city of Montepulciano, struck by the beauty of 
 our maiden, and resolved to leave no stone unturned to 
 satisfy his impure desires, took her home with him, not 
 to marry her, but to live an irregular life with her. 
 Wretched the girl who allows herself to be carried away 
 by that destructive luxury which unfortunately has 
 invaded both town and country ! Sooner or later she 
 will fall into the traps of the enemy, to the loss of her 
 innocence and virtue. Through it was Margaret blinded 
 in a vicious life for nine years, without thinking of the 
 abyss that was open at her feet. The Lord embittered 
 her pleasures ; He took away the false peace which 
 those separated from God sometimes enjoy ; He gave 
 her strength of heart to fly from eternal ruin ; but, 
 blinded by her disordered passions, the unhappy girl 
 did not, or would not, understand the language of 
 divine mercy. 
 
 II. 
 
 One day, however, bewailing her errors like a pro- 
 digal daughter, she resolved to arise from her degrada- 
 
88 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 tion, and escape from tlie flames of hell, which hissed at 
 her very feet, ready to devour her. What had occurred 
 to Margaret to thus awaken her from the profound 
 lethargy in which she was buried? The Lord gave 
 her a mute but eloquent lesson on the vanity of 
 mundane pleasures, and she opened a docile ear to the 
 inspirations of her loving father. Her lover had gone 
 from home for some days, and Margaret was in the 
 house, when the little dog which accompanied him 
 returned, and began to bark in the most melancholy 
 way. The poor woman did not dream of any accident 
 to the gentleman, and overlooked the sad warnings of 
 the animal. One day passed, and another, and the dog 
 continued barking and dragging her by the clothes, as 
 much as to say : “ Come with me, for they have mur- 
 dered my master ! ” Margaret began at last to suspect 
 there was something wrong, and fearing the worst from 
 the dog’s manner, she followed him whither he led her. 
 As soon as they reached a ravine where there was a 
 heap of withered branches, the dog ran to it and began 
 to scrape the earth, crying sadly all the time. Then 
 Margaret, removing with trembling hands the branches 
 and earth which formed the heap, found the dead body 
 of her lover, already converted into a mass of corruption, 
 and giving out an intolerable stench. You may imagine 
 the shock she got on beholding so horrible a spectacle. 
 
 His enemies and rivals had met the unfortunate man 
 and killed him, inflicting innumerable wounds on his 
 body, and to hide their crime had thrown him into a 
 hollow, and covered over the place with earth and 
 branches. When the poor woman came to herself 
 she clearly realised what impure pleasures end in. 
 That corrupted body, already full of worms, which 
 issued from every wound, placed the end of worldly 
 goods in evidence before her eyes. And then, again, her 
 afflicted soul was besieged by a troup of melancholy con- 
 siderations on the lot of the spirit of him whom she had 
 loved so madly and excessively. “ Oh ! his soul ! where 
 
ST. MARGARET OF CORTONA. 
 
 89 
 
 is his soul? .... Is it in hell?” said a voice within her 
 heart, which made her tremble with fear, and covered her 
 with a cold sweat. “ What are now all his guilty 
 pleasures to him ? Fuel to keep alive the eternal flames ! 
 For a momentary joy an eternal pain ! For every 
 instant of pleasure a torment without end. 
 
 III. 
 
 These salutary thoughts made her tremble for herself, 
 seeing herself on the brink of that fearful precipice, ex- 
 posed to fall in, if that instant the clock of eternity had 
 struck the hour of her death. Turned into a sea of tears, 
 alarmed at the blackness of her soul, more foul and 
 horrid than the devil himself, she threw herself on the 
 floor in deep compunction, imploring mercy, and trans- 
 pierced with a lively sorrow, she thought of nothing 
 but bewailing her sins and beginning a life of penance. 
 First of all she should fly from the scene of her past 
 danger, and so she resolved as soon as possible to leave 
 Montepulciano, to go and throw herself at her father’s 
 feet, like a prodigal daughter, penitent and weeping. 
 But he, instigated by the harshness and cruelty of his 
 wife, would not listen to the sighs and laments of the 
 poor girl, but cast her out as the disgrace of the family. 
 Great were the combats which the penitent’s heart sus- 
 tained through that repulse. She was yet only four- 
 and- twenty years of age and extremely beautiful, and 
 she saw in a dissolute life a path strewn with flowers 
 and happiness, and was strongly tempted to return to 
 her disorders, presuming that God in the end would 
 have mercy on her. Ah ! the Lord has promised pardon 
 to those who repent, but He has not promised hope to 
 those who resist His call. How many, through vain 
 presumption, deferred their conversion and were 
 damned ? Margaret struggled bravely, and that Divine 
 Father, who is ever waiting with open arms to give us 
 the embrace of peace and the kiss of pardon, called her 
 
90 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 again in loving accents, supporting lier in that struggle, 
 decisive, perhaps, of her future sanctification or of her 
 eternal reprobation. “Fear not, Margaret,” said the 
 good Jesus to her, “henceforth I will be your Father 
 and Benefactor.” 
 
 Now fixed in her good resolutions, she wept night 
 and day over her sins ; and anxious to repair the scandal 
 she had given by her evil ways, she went to the parish 
 church of Aliviano, dressed in penitential garb, and with 
 a rope round her neck, to publicly ask pardon of her 
 neighbours, and protest before all that she repented of 
 having been, by her bad example, the occasion of ruin to 
 anyone. But this did not appease the stepmother, nor 
 soften the father. All abandoned her. 
 
 Then the poor thing, seeing herself despised and 
 driven from home, went to the neighbouring city of 
 Cortona, where some charitable ladies received her and 
 a son she had by her lover. The first thing she took 
 care to do here was to make a general and fervent con- 
 fession of all her sins, as the beginning and foundation 
 of a new life. She went to the Franciscan church, and 
 there, weeping and sighing, relieved her heart in 
 the ear of one of the observant religious. She also en- 
 treated to be allowed to wear the penitent habit of the 
 Third Order of the Seraphic Patriarch. The prudent 
 confessor animating her to be faithful to her good re- 
 solutions, gave her hopes of obtaining from the superiors 
 the permission required. But three years passed before 
 she got it, during which she practised every kind of 
 virtue. She avoided, as she would death, everything 
 which could be an incentive or fuel to her passions ; and 
 though, through the goodness of the ladies with whom 
 she was, she might live almost delicately, yet through 
 a spirit of penance, and looking on herself as unworthy 
 to tread the earth, she never ate flesh meat ; she slept 
 on hard boards or on the floor, and gave every moment 
 she could to prayer and the practices of piety. The 
 Lord, who is never outdone in generosity, sinking in 
 
ST. MARGARET OF CORTONA. 
 
 91 
 
 profound oblivion all tbe sins of tbe saint, often visited 
 her with celestial consolations, and animated her to 
 pursue the path she had entered on. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The Franciscans were now satisfied with the con- 
 stancy of the penitent, and with the heroic examples of 
 virtue, with which she edified everyone, and gave her 
 the habit of the Third Order without fear of her dis- 
 honouring it by her conduct. And this favour served 
 to redouble her fervour, by increasing her mortification 
 and striking deep roots of humility, which made her 
 look on herself as unworthy of be regarded, much less 
 saluted, by men. For the love of the world she substi- 
 tuted so ardent a love for God that she felt dislike and 
 aversion to everything that could flatter the senses, and 
 she burned with a lively desire of sacrificing herself in 
 the flame of charity. When praying one day with ex- 
 traordinary fervour before an image of Jesus crucified, 
 she had the happiness of hearing from the Divine lips 
 these sweet words : “ Tell me, poor thing, why you are 
 weeping. What do you want?” “You, Lord, and 
 only you; for having you I want nothing.” This holy 
 and ardent desire to please Jesus washer daily support ; 
 and finding that in the service of the ladies, in whose 
 house she lived, she could not have the recollection she 
 desired nor the oportunity of giving loose rein to her 
 penances, she took a little room where she could dwell 
 alone with her son, procuring the necessaries of life 
 with her needle as a dressmaker. She never went out 
 except to go to the church, to do an act of charity or to 
 look for work to sew during the day. She rose very 
 early in the morning and went to the church of the 
 Franciscans, where she heard Mass and spent some time 
 in meditation. After satisfying her spirit of devotion 
 she went home to renew it in union with her work. She 
 usually employed herself in dressmaking, sewing and 
 mending whatever was given to her ; and with her earn- 
 
92 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLT. 
 
 ings and some alms given her by pions people, she bad 
 enough to meet her light expenses and to largely succour 
 the poor. 
 
 Content with bread and water and some raisins, she 
 never lit a fire except to prepare food for the indigent. 
 Her charity to the needy was very great. When she 
 had no money to give them, she distributed among 
 them whatever she found in the house — plates, glasses, 
 spoons, dresses — and sometimes in the depth of winter 
 stripped herself of her clothes and went half naked, 
 that they might have something to cover them. She 
 saw Jesus in the poor, and grateful for his immense 
 benefits, though herself poor, she did not wish Him to 
 have it to say : “I was hungry, and you gave me not 
 to eat ; I was naked and you clothed me not.” The 
 Lord repaid with interest the favours He received from 
 her by the hands of the poor, for He allowed her to 
 taste on earth the sweetness of heaven to the great ad- 
 vantage of her soul, which despised all human delights. 
 From the very beginning of her conversion she conceived 
 such a hatred for her body, the instrument of so many 
 sins and scandals, that not satisfied with tormenting it 
 with severe penances and continual fasts, she would un- 
 doubtedly have disfigured her beauty if her confessor, 
 to whom she paid strict obedience, had not prevented her. 
 
 Y. 
 
 The common enemy, envious of the imperishable 
 crown, which the saintly dressmaker was weaving, laid 
 terrible snares for her to make her desist from her 
 Christian enterprise. He tried to persuade her that 
 such great retirement was indiscreet, and so much pen- 
 ance an imprudent cruelty ; that with so incessant mor- 
 tification she was bringing herself prematurely to the 
 grave; in fine, that it was now time to soften her in- 
 human rigour and take some better food, above all as the 
 Lord had told her that all her sins were pardoned. But 
 
ST. MARGARET OF CORTONA. 
 
 93 
 
 the saint had no difficulty in detecting the serpent tail 
 of him who had transformed himself into an angel of 
 light. Then Margaret, in revenge for this daring of Luci- 
 fer, multiplied her penances, and buried herself deeper 
 in evangelical humility. Feeling herself one day more 
 rudely attacked by the violence of the temptation than 
 usual, she lovingly complained to her dear Jesus cruci- 
 fied, and the Lord was pleased to console her thus : 
 “ Have courage, my daughter, for no matter how 
 violent the assaults of the enemy may be, I am always 
 with you. Be faithful to the counsels of your director, 
 and fear not ; place your strength in my grace, distrust 
 yourself, and you shall conquer.” With these favours 
 she strode like a giant along the path of virtue. The 
 more attacked she was by the devil, the deeper did she 
 cast the roots of humility,* and the more attached did 
 she become to contempt and insult. Wondering that 
 the people of Cortona did not drive her out of the city 
 and stone her as a monster of the abyss, she would, only 
 for the prohibition of her confessor, who put bounds to 
 her extreme desires of humiliation, have gone out into the 
 streets with a rope round her neck publishing her past er- 
 rors, that they might shut her up in jail for her iniquities. 
 
 In a great measure she drew this profound humility 
 from the assiduous consideration of the passion of Jesus 
 Christ, made for us the opprobrium and disgrace of men. 
 It was also encouraged by the contemplation of the 
 sufferings of the Blessed Virgin, whom she loved as a 
 tender mother, and to whom she had recourse with all 
 confidence in her necessities. When reflecting one day 
 on the cruel torments which Jesus suffered for love of 
 us, she received a precious visit from the Saviour Him- 
 self, in which He exhorted her to prepare herself to ac- 
 company Him in his sufferings. “Be ready,” He said 
 to her, “ to sustain a rude combat and bear with great 
 annoyances during your life. As gold is tried in the 
 crucible, so shall you be purified with tribulation, 
 temptations, pains, fear, watchings, tears, hunger, 
 
94 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 thirst, cold, nakedness, desolation, and it is only when 
 loaded with the cross that you will enter into glory.” 
 “ Here I am, Lord, ready to suffer for love of Thee all the 
 torments of the world. My God ! who could refuse to suffer 
 when he reflects on what Thou didst hear for us ?” By 
 meditation on these pains she animated herself to hear, 
 in silence and without complaint, all kinds of contempt 
 and injury. On a certain occasion a woman heaped all 
 sorts of had language on Margaret, to the great scandal 
 of the neighbourhood, but she never tried to defend 
 herself, hut rather rejoiced to hear herself defamed, and 
 treated her assailant to the best her house could afford. 
 If self-love, unjustly wounded, raised its head, our dress- 
 maker at once crushed it down, and never allowed her- 
 self one word of excuse or the slightest expression of 
 impatience. Such authority had she acquired over her 
 passions by force of mortification. 
 
 VI. 
 
 And despite this blameless conduct she allowed no day 
 to pass without approaching the tribunal of penance to 
 confess with many tears her slightest neglect or imper- 
 fections. Some people not much given to frequenting 
 the sacraments would say, as the lazy and lukewarm 
 say now : “ What could she confess when going so often 
 to the tribunal of mercy ?” The ardent longing to please 
 God gives to the fervent light to discover defects which 
 others do not notice. Besides, guided by faith which 
 teaches that the sacraments of the dead may serve to 
 increase the grace of the living, they seek in the frequent 
 confession of their past sins to make their pardon more 
 and more secure, and to light the flame of charity in 
 their souls. With this purity of heart, and with 
 frequent acts of faith, hope, and love, she prepared her 
 soul to approach the Eucharistic table and to eat the 
 Bread of Angels with indescribable consolation and sup- 
 port to bear with her cross. From this sacred banquet 
 she derived her strength and courage to trample on the 
 
ST. MARGARET OF CORTONA. 
 
 95 
 
 world and give herself entirely to the service of God. 
 And though from the intense divine love which burned 
 in her breast, she could have desired to receive her be- 
 loved Jesus at all hours, she yet sometimes hesitated to 
 go to Communion, because she looked on herself as 
 unworthy to entertain in her heart the Lord of infinite 
 majesty and grandeur. This struggle between her 
 humility and her hunger for the Divine Manna so pressed 
 her as sometimes to make her burst into copious tears. 
 Jesus one day consoled her, and animated her to con- 
 fidently approach the heavenly banquet, saying : “ Fear 
 not, my daughter ; do not keep away from my table. 
 Great indeed is the purity required for this Divine Sacra- 
 ment ; but if you are free from grievous sin, what makes 
 you hesitate ? The physician is not for those who are 
 well but for those who are sick.” And in reality in 
 this angelic banquet the ailing find medicine, the sad 
 consolation, the weak strength, the cowardly courage, 
 the ignorant a Teacher, children their Father, the sheep 
 their Pastor, subjects their King, and the poor the Lord 
 of the universe and the Source of all good. Neverthe- 
 less, in order that she might receive the immense graces 
 which the good Jesus showers over well-disposed souls, 
 He exhorted her to prepare herself to receive His sacred 
 body, not only purified from grievous sin, but free also 
 from light faults, and recommended to her — recollection, 
 silence, and the avoidance of everything that might 
 displease His divine eyes. Comforted by this heavenly 
 advice she now no longer withdrew from receiving Jesus 
 through a consideration of her unworthiness : but on the 
 contrary, her very unworthiness stimulated her to run 
 to the Fountain of all true greatness, whilst labouring 
 to prepare in her soul a decent reception for her 
 mighty Monarch. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Our Divine Saviour, who is ever generous and liberal 
 
96 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 with the liberal and generous, poured out ineffable and 
 sweetest consolations on His servant. In His close rela- 
 tions with the holy dressmaker, He sometimes lovingly 
 complained of the insensibility, ingratitude, and want of 
 correspondence on the part of sinners, infusing into the 
 heart of His penitent an ardent zeal for the divine glory 
 and the salvation of so many unfortunates as are blindly 
 running headlong to their eternal ruin. The saint in- 
 terceded for them, and offered to suffer for them all the 
 torments of the world. “ Daughter,’'* the Lord often 
 said to her, “ look round the world. Do you not see 
 how they repay my graces with new injuries, my love 
 with indifference, my promises with contempt ? The 
 married give themselves up to nefarious vices, the single 
 barter the gem of chastity for vile pleasures ; and both 
 single and married become the slaves of corrupting 
 luxury, the source of a thousand frauds and shameful 
 sins. If some are free from this impetuous torrent 
 they become the slaves of vanity, and even look for 
 praise for their very devotions and their reception of the 
 sacraments. And look at people holding positions in 
 society ! Judges sell justice and oppress the innocent 
 through bribery, recommendations, and wealth : ambi- 
 tious people are not ashamed to burn the incense of 
 flattery to those in power : in the merchants you find 
 neither justice nor good faith ; everything is adulterated 
 everything is obtained by deceit and extortion. And 
 there is no one to take pity on my widows, my orphans, 
 and my poor, but all oppress them with deceit and 
 usury ! How could the graces of heaven fall on sinners 
 so inhuman, for their very hardness and rebellion raise 
 up an impediment to the Divine Mercy ?” 
 
 Margaret, however, asked, prayed, insisted on the 
 salvation of those poor wretches. She was greatly 
 afflicted at sight of so many offences and such stub- 
 bornness, and she took revenge for them on her own 
 body, as if she were the person guilty of such black in- 
 gratitude. In the midst of this pain and bitterness, 
 
ST. MARGARET OF CORTONA. 
 
 97 
 
 which are very severe to a soul that loves J esus Christ, 
 she had recourse for consolation to the Queen without 
 spot and angels guardian, for whom she professed a 
 special devotion ; and the Blessed Virgin as well as the 
 heavenly spirits were ever ready to attend to her 
 prayers, and often come to animate her by their visits 
 and familiar conversation. And beyond these extra- 
 ordinary graces, our Lord gave to this new Magdalen 
 the gift of working miracles ; but she was a person of 
 such profound humility, and was so anxious to be looked 
 down on, that some stratagem was needed to make her 
 impose hands on the sick, who often became healed 
 under her touch. But she never hesitated if it were a 
 work of mercy, so that no miraculous effect were ex- 
 pected from her ; on the contrary, she would go at once 
 to a case of necessity, and sacrifice her own comfort and 
 rest for the good of her neighbour. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Three and twenty years had Margaret spent in these 
 exercises of mortification, charity, religion, and every 
 kind of good works, when the Lord was pleased to tell 
 heir her end was near, and that the souls freed from the 
 pains of purgatory by her prayers and penances would 
 come to meet her. And, indeed, the saintly dressmaker 
 did interest herself in behalf of those holy souls by offer- 
 ing her satisfactory works for them. Praying once for 
 three dead persons who had not given very good signs 
 of predestination, she heard from the lips of Jesus that 
 their souls were not in hell, as some rashly judged, but 
 suffered so atrocious torments that were it not for the 
 favourable sentence they received and the visits of the 
 angels, they might almost doubt of their eternal salva- 
 tion. Such are the sufferings of those dark cells ! After 
 giving her this good news, the Lord again complained 
 to her of the ingratitude of men, whose wickedness, as 
 it were, obliged Him to discharge against peoples the 
 
98 
 
 LIGHT FKOM THE LOWLY. 
 
 scourge of great public calamities. And yet peoples 
 will not learn ! 
 
 Margaret, now extenuated by her rigours, and con- 
 sumed by the flame of charity, was warned of her happy 
 end, and though she had such clear signs of her pre- 
 destination, not therefore did she neglect to prepare for 
 that terrible moment the best way she could. She 
 received, with inexplicable fervour, the Holy Viaticum, 
 and during seventeen days took no food, supported only 
 by heavenly consolations, which inundated her soul with 
 joy at the near approach of her end, of that hour when 
 she should go to enjoy for ever her beloved Jesus. 
 During all this time there escaped from her lips only 
 tender conversations with her Divine Spouse, and ardent 
 ejaculations, which were like sparks from the fire which 
 consumed her heart. On the twenty-second of February, 
 1297, clinging to a crucifix, with her lips on the wound 
 in the side, she delivered up her soul to the King of 
 glory. She was then forty-eight years of age, of which 
 she had passed twenty-four as a penitent. It is said 
 that her son died later, a fervent religious of the Order 
 of St. Francis. At the very hour the saint expired, a 
 great servant of God saw her soul go up to the land of 
 the just, escorted by a numerous band, who, in honour of 
 her triumph, had escaped from purgatory. Her body, 
 flexible and more beautiful than in life, emitted a sweet 
 odour which filled the apartment. Thus did our Lord 
 honour that instrument of so many penances ! 
 
 As soon as the news of the glorious death of Margaret 
 was known in the city, an immense multitude of all 
 classes and ranks hastened to venerate the remains of the 
 poor dressmaker, in testimony of the high opinion they 
 had formed of her virtue. The number was so great 
 that guards had to be placed round the bier to prevent 
 pious thefts. Dressed in a costly red tunic, the corpse 
 was carried in procession through the principal streets 
 of the city, and laid in a new grave in the church of St. 
 Basil. The funeral, or rather the triumphal accompani- 
 
VENEEABLE ELIZABETH POBAE. 
 
 99 
 
 ment, was composed of the whole secular and regular 
 clergy and the most select of the inhabitants. And 
 later a sumptuous chapel was erected to her in the same 
 church. Leo X. having been informed of the great 
 miracles wrought through the intercession of the saint, 
 and having seen with his own eyes the sacred body 
 preserved incorrupt, as it is still preserved after six 
 centuries, approved of the devotion paid to her, and 
 permitted the town of Cortona to celebrate her feast. 
 Urban VIII. extended this permission to the whole 
 Order of St. Francis, and in 1624 expedited the solemn 
 Bull of beatification. And finally Benedict XIII., after 
 canonising the glorious dressmaker, ordered her feast 
 to be celebrated in the universal Church the day afte 
 her happy decease. Her incorrupted body is preserved 
 with great veneration in the church of the Franciscan 
 fathers, which took the name of St. Margaret instead 
 of St Basil. 
 
 VENERABLE ELIZABETH POBAR, PEASANT 
 AND HOUSEKEEPER. 
 
 I. 
 
 In the district of Calatayud, one of the most populous 
 villages is Villarroya, famous for its holy house and 
 hospital of Our Lady of the Mountain, about a league 
 distant. In this village was bom Elizabeth Pobar, on 
 Wednesday in Holy Week, 7th of April, 1610. Her 
 parents were John Pobar and Elizabeth Maestro, the 
 latter a native of the village of Valtorres, the former of 
 Villarroya, and both of good Christian families. One 
 and the other, persuaded that the good education of 
 children is the germ of their felicity and the key to a 
 good life, took every care to rear her in a Christian 
 manner. But her mother, who was always nearer her 
 took special pains in this work, and missed no oppor- 
 tunity of infusing into her a love of virtue and a 
 
100 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 profound devotion to the Blessed Virgin. And so one 
 of the first words the child learned to lisp was the sweet 
 name of Mary. “ 0 holy Virgin ! ” she used to exclaim 
 with her innocent lips, “ Virgin Mary, permit me not 
 to fall into or die in mortal sin !” — an ejaculation which, 
 though learned before she could know its importance, 
 remained indelibly impressed on her heart, and at all 
 hours spontaneously burst from her lips, to the ineffable 
 consolation of her soul. In those years her childish 
 work and amusement was to gather pictures of the saints 
 and build little altars, when not performing slight duties 
 suitable to her sex. With such training she grew up in 
 wonderful candour, which became the characteristic of 
 her life. She was incapable of judging ill of anyone, 
 and when she heard of any public scandal she could not 
 believe that any creature could be capable of offending 
 a Lord worthy of being infinitely loved. Elizabeth was 
 advancing in virtue in proportion to her years, and when 
 she was now a big girl she was still remarkable for her 
 child-like simplicity. When favoured some times with 
 extraordinary attentions from heaven she thought that 
 such graces were gifts of God, which all equally re- 
 ceived. In this simplicity did she live before God and 
 man ; and her conversation was always about edifying 
 matters, in which she ever displayed clear and bright 
 talent, though as regards other subject she was often at 
 a loss for words. 
 
 At the age of twelve she was miraculously cured by 
 St. Ignatius of Loyola, for whom she had great devotion 
 all her life. She had a cancerous sore on one of her 
 feet, which grew so bad that it resisted all remedies, 
 and her leg became partially paralysed. The doctors 
 decided that it must be cut off, and Elizabeth’s parents, 
 much against their will, had become resigned to it. A 
 celebrated surgeon had been already summoned to per- 
 form the operation, when the child happened to bear 
 some pious women talk of the wonders wrought before 
 an image of St. Ignatius, venerated in the parish church 
 
VENERABLE ELIZABETH PÓBAR. 
 
 101 
 
 of Munebrega. On this there awoke in the girl a great 
 confidence in the power of the saint, and she asked her 
 mother to take her to implore his aid before her leg 
 should be amputated. Her parents consented, and, 
 preparing for the journey as best they could, they went 
 to Munebrega to offer a novena in the saint’s honour. 
 They left her with her aunt in Valtorres, who promised 
 to daily place her before the sacred image. On the sixth 
 day of the novena such an extraordinary desire of sleep 
 seized her in the saint’s chapel that she had to yield to 
 it for some time. A priest awoke her and scolded her 
 for her want of reverence. Elizabeth got up, and, feel- 
 ing herself quite well, exclaimed : “St. Ignatius has 
 cured me ! St. Ignatius has cured me'” And indeed 
 she who a little before was unable to walk without sup- 
 port, now threw her crutches away and ran about full 
 of joy. This miracle increased devotion to the saint, 
 particularly among the girl’s relatives, who ever after- 
 wards had recourse to him in all their difficulties. Her 
 mother had a proof of his favour in that most terrible 
 hour, the agony of death. Our devout servant of Gfod 
 was attending her in those supreme moments, and when 
 alone with her, besought the saint’s aid for her. There 
 was in the room an image of the holy patriarch, and in 
 Elizabeth’s eyes it appeared to grow into the form of a 
 venerable old man, and it came down from its place to 
 keep guard over the bed of the dying woman. The 
 poor girl was alarmed at this, and, full of holy dread, 
 covered up her face. When she again looked up her 
 mother was dead, and the picture of the saint restored 
 to its place. 
 
 II. 
 
 The motherless girl continued to live in her simplicity 
 and conformity to the will of God in the midst of her 
 tribulations, when her father determined to marry her 
 
102 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 to a farmer of Valtorres. Ever submissive and obe- 
 dient in everything not opposed to the will of God, 
 though only thirteen years of age, she was married to John 
 Herrer, a man of advanced years. This, circumstance 
 and the depraved disposition of her husband, afforded 
 Elizabeth many opportunities of meriting ; but she, 
 always sweet, amiable, and patient, suffered all in silence 
 and tried to disarm him. But jealousy was now added 
 to John’s bad temper, and this filled up the cup of 
 bitterness with which he withered the heart of his inno- 
 cent and pure spouse. Great was the affliction which 
 filled her soul when she found herself treated not only 
 as a slave, but even as a faithless wife ; and she would 
 probably have been driven to some desperate act if not 
 restrained by the holy fear of God and the good counsels 
 of the Yicar of Villarroya, where she went to live after 
 she was married. She was also encouraged to suffer for 
 the love of God by two virtuous female friends, 
 Augustina Sevilla and Eugenie Soria, who were also 
 under the same priest’s direction. After doing her 
 usual work, in her devotions she gave the first place to 
 prayer and works of mercy. She daily joined these 
 companions to make the stations of the cross, and 
 through this, accompanied by meditation on the passion 
 and death of Jesus Christ, the three reached a high 
 degree of perfection. With the consent of her con- 
 fessor, Elizabeth at this time performed many works of 
 penance and mortification. Her fasting was at once 
 voluntary and compulsory ; for her poverty was so great 
 that she was often in need of the necessaries of life, and 
 this perhaps in a measure softened the hard-heartedness 
 of her husband. One of her favourite occupations was 
 attendance on the sick. 
 
 When there were no sick to attend or console in Vil- 
 larroya, and her domestic duties did not require her 
 presence, with her husband’s permission she was ac- 
 customed to seek them elsewhere, from which she 
 derived great courage and fruit, because she did it 
 
VENERABLE ELIZABETH POBAR. 
 
 103 
 
 for God’s sake. In her burning charity she would 
 like to be in charge of all the sick. And when 
 she could not, through some impediment, attend them 
 personally, she used to offer prayers and penances for 
 them, through which the Lord sometimes bestowed 
 wonderful favours on them. All this, however, was 
 regulated by obedience, without which she did nothing, 
 for she never allowed herself to be ruled by the whims 
 of devotion or the impulses of her fervour. And yet 
 in this blind obedience to the direction of her confessors 
 and in her pious exercises, she never neglected the obliga- 
 tions of her state, which always held the first place in 
 her heart. She constantly served her husband with the 
 tenderness of a loving spouse and the humility of a slave, 
 which was the more meritorious, inasmuch as it came 
 from her invincible patience in bearing with his harsh- 
 ness of disposition. And so much did she effect by her 
 good example, so much did she labour with sensible 
 counsel, and storm heaven with incessant prayer, that 
 he became an admirer and imitator of her heroic virtues. 
 She was most diligent in the education of her children ; 
 and even in this life God rewarded her by permitting 
 her to see, in the three that remained to her, the realisa- 
 tion of her care and aspirations. 
 
 The servant of God having heard of the great miracles 
 wrought before the holy image of Christ in Calatoras, a 
 village in the kingdom of Aragon, conceived a longing 
 desire to visit and reverence it. With humble persist- 
 ence, she made her mind known to her husband, but he 
 again and again refused her permission to make the 
 pilgrimage. Then she had recourse to her constant 
 protector, St. Ignatius, who appeared to her, consoled 
 and carried her supernaturally to Calatoras. Here she 
 found herself with her lips to the side of Jesus Christ’s 
 image, and they were tinged with miraculous blood, 
 which flowed from the wound. This favour lasted half 
 an hour : no one knows what she saw, but she was 
 heard to say : — “ Oh ! what blood the sins of the world 
 
104 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 make our Lord shed !” After this extraordinary grace 
 the saint restored her to her home in Villarroya. 
 
 III. 
 
 Here she continued the devout exercise of the Via 
 Crucis, in which the Lord favoured her with ineffable 
 consolation. Once her Divine Spouse appeared to her 
 and rebuked her because she did not add the crown of 
 thorns to the heavy cross she was bearing. On another 
 occasion He rewarded the docility with which she cor- 
 responded to his inspirations, by making the dry crown 
 with which she afterwards punished herself, bloom afresh. 
 One day, while engaged in the same pious practice she 
 asked the Lord to free her from certain troubles, when 
 suddenly the oratory where she was, became illuminated, 
 and she saw Jesus with the cross on his shoulders, who 
 said to her : “I carried the cross for your sins and the 
 sins of the whole world, and do you wish to be relieved of 
 yours ?” This vision passed rapidly like a shadow but left 
 Elizabeth consoled and ready to suffer for J esus Christ. 
 
 In the picturesque hills which run through the dis- 
 trict of Villarroya, and afford the traveller beautiful and 
 varied scenery, is situated the hemitage of St. Mary of 
 the Mountain. Elizabeth used to go to it every day her 
 domestic duties allowed her, and in this assent she satis- 
 fied at once her devotion and her desire for mortification. 
 The ground is broken and covered with thorns and 
 briers. The servant of God, weaving chaplets to the 
 Queen of heaven with her beads, walked barefooted over 
 that rough carpet, often leaving marks of blood behind 
 her and receiving from the Blessed Virgin the graces 
 and favours of a tender Mother. Everything in this 
 world has an end. 
 
 After a little, whether from the poverty of the family, 
 or that husband and wife had resolved to imitate the 
 chastity of St. Joseph and Mary, or some other cause 
 unknown to us, Elizabeth went to Calatayud with John 
 
VENERABLE ELIZABETH POBAR. 
 
 105 
 
 Herrer’s consent, to keep house for a gentleman of that 
 town, called Mr. Martin Zapata, and had to give up 
 this devotion so pleasing to her. One of the first reso- 
 lutions she formed on entering this house was to fulfil 
 with religious exactness the duties of housekeeper. 
 Economy in the expenses, order and cleanliness in the 
 furniture and house, the satisfaction of her master in 
 everything not displeasing to God, were the objects to 
 which her constant care should extend, to the Lord’s 
 greater glory, in that new employment ; and she fulfilled 
 all in the most satisfactory way. Her husband some- 
 times visited her with great affection and veneration, 
 but both looked on themselves as brother and sister, 
 and faithful imitators of the parents of Jesus. Nearly 
 twenty years was this faithful servant of God in this 
 gentleman’s employment, two in Huesca, and the rest 
 in Calatayud, and during that time she made marked 
 progress in virtue, now with prayer and fasting, now 
 with works of mercy, now by punctual performance of 
 her duties. Soon it was reported in Calatayud that 
 Mr. Zapata had a saint in his house; and this was 
 enough to make many anxious to know her. But as 
 Elizabeth conducted herself with the candour and sim- 
 plicity of a child, the fame of her sanctity became to 
 several a subject for laughter and pastime. Someone 
 told her this, and she answered : “ Don’t mind, for I 
 
 will ask our Lord to stop their mockery if it is injurious 
 to their souls.” The fruits of this prayer were soon 
 visible, for the very person who had indulged most in 
 the jokes repented of his fault and never again opened 
 his lips but in praise of her. And this change was 
 brought about in him from seeing her face bathed in 
 celestial splendour one day he was going to say some- 
 thing funny to her, and his heart was touched with 
 regret and with veneration for the servant of God. 
 
 In Huesca Elizabeth pursued her virtuous exercises 
 with increasing fervour. She was assisted very much 
 by an experienced and zealous confessor, whom she 
 
106 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 found in the College of the Society of Jesus, a confessor 
 to whom she had already revealed the secrets of her 
 soul during her stay in Calatayud. He took such an 
 interest in the spiritual advancement of his penitent 
 that, though he was one of the last, Elizabeth always 
 venerated him as the principal father of her soul. He 
 made her undertake several works of self -negation and 
 mortification ; and she complied with all with such 
 promptness and such marks of the low conception she 
 had formed of herself, that she infused devotion into all 
 who witnessed her heroic example. This high character 
 made many watch her with marked interest, and some 
 declared that they had often noticed evident signs of 
 the extraordinary favours which the Lord granted her 
 in prayer. In Huesca she cured a child that had been 
 given up by all the doctors who saw her, and she 
 foretold the death of her mistress a year before it hap- 
 pened. This event obliged her to seek another asylum ; 
 but though now in reduced circumstances, Providence 
 did not desert her, but moved the hearts of many 
 charitable people to attend to her wants. A severe 
 illness, however, obliged her to take up her residence in 
 Saragossa to complete her recovery. Thence, at the 
 request of the Marquis and Marchioness of Coscojuela, 
 to whom one of her sons was chaplain, she returned to 
 Huesca, and remained there two years more. 
 
 IV. 
 
 It was the Lord’s will she should reside in Saragossa, 
 at the feet of our dear Lady of the Pillar, and thither 
 she returned, to the great consolation of her soul. She 
 lived in the house of a person of distinction, and was 
 surrounded with plenty, but she missed being near the 
 College of Jesuits, that she might be directed by one of 
 its members to whose care she owed her advancement 
 in virtue. Trusting, then, in the protection of St. 
 Ignatius, and in the aid of her confessor, who was the 
 
VENERABLE ELIZABETH POBAR. 
 
 107 
 
 then rector of the college, she took courage to seek a 
 poor lodging near it, in which she might pass the rest of 
 her days as a beggar, bnt free from worldly cares. 
 Aided by some pious persons, above all by her son, 
 then chaplain of the Private del Huerto, she took up 
 her residence as she had resolved, and never wanted her 
 daily bread. She spent whole days in the church of 
 the Society praying for sinners, and for the prisoners in 
 the public jail. Daily she awoke between two and 
 three in the morning, and remained in prayer till dawn, 
 when she went to hear Mass, to confess and receive 
 communion. In the evening she visited the sick, and, 
 with the beads in her hand, though bent down by the 
 weight of years, went round some churches, among 
 which, it is needless to say, was that of her patron, St. 
 Ignatius. If no other occupations in which God’s glory 
 might be more promoted prevented it, this was the daily 
 distribution of her time. She reserved the holy exer- 
 cise of the cross for between five and six in the evening. 
 This terminated her day, and at night she looked to the 
 relief of her wearied body. And certainly she should 
 be tired, for at her advanced age she performed the 
 Via Crucis on her knees, carrying a cross weighing 
 thirty-three pounds, with a rope round her neck, a 
 crown of thorns on her head, and two heavy iron chains 
 on her feet. This was her favourite exercise, this the 
 innocent tenor of her life, enriched with immense trea- 
 sures of grace and ineffable celestial gifts, in which a 
 happy death found her, opening to her the gates of 
 eternal life, where, we hope, she enjoys the reward due 
 to her great labours. She died in the year 1679. 
 
 Her body looked so pleasing after death that it ex- 
 cited respect and devotion. As soon as the news, of her 
 demise spread the house was filled with people, and all 
 wanted to get some relic of her poor habitation, as a 
 memorial of the blessed defunct. To please the crowds 
 who went to see her, they left her exposed the whole 
 day to public veneration in her own house, and on the 
 
108 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 following day, after the ceremonies of the Church, cele- 
 brated before an immense congregation, amid the tears 
 of the good, and the praises and admiration of all, she was 
 buried in the chapel of St. Ignatius, at whose feet she 
 awaits a glorious resurrection, to the confusion of the 
 proud ones of the world. 
 
 VENERABLE MARYANNE VILLALBA, 
 LACE-MAKER. 
 
 I. 
 
 This venerable servant of God was born in Paracaellos 
 de la Rivera, a little village near Calatayud, in Aragon, 
 on the 20th of April, 1565. Her parents were John 
 Villalba and Eliza Vicente, of families, though not poor, 
 more distinguished by their honesty and Christianity 
 than their fortune. Eliza reared her with great care and 
 gave her good example, which is the best teacher, study- 
 ing not only that she should not lose the candour of 
 innocence among other boys and girls, but should be 
 adorned with every kind of Christian virtues. The 
 docility and good disposition of the girl, who was ever 
 obedient to her mother’s wishes, contributed not a little 
 to her proper education. Even at the tender age of 
 four years she showed a special inclination to pious 
 exercises, and a filial devotion to the Queen of Angels. 
 With such a foundation it is needless to say that 
 Maryanne never caused her humble parents a single 
 pain, and they, in their daughter’s good disposition, 
 gathered the fruits of their care. 
 
 When she reached the fitting age she contracted mar- 
 riage with a native of Paracuellos, whose name we do 
 not know. Though this union lasted only about a year, 
 Maryanne had sufficient opportunity in it of tasting 
 the fruit of her Christian patience. Her husband’s 
 passionate and rash disposition often reduced her to sad 
 
VENERABLE MARYANNE YILLALBA. 
 
 109 
 
 straits ; but the wife, by silently bearing injuries, and 
 availing herself of fitting opportunities to disarm her 
 consort, obtained by suavity and sweetness what she 
 never would have attained by bitterness. After re- 
 maining a widow for some time she again married, 
 either to attend better to her wants or at the advice 
 of her relatives. Second and subsequent marriages, 
 though never reprobated by the Catholic Church, have 
 never been lauded, because they suppose little love for 
 continence, which the Holy Fathers have ever held in 
 such high estimation. Hence the sacred canons pro- 
 hibited priesthood and the office of deaconess to be con- 
 ferred on those who had been widowed a second time. 
 But this does not suppose that those who contracted 
 marriage more than once for holy and laudable ends may 
 not obtain a high degree of perfection ; and of this num- 
 ber was our Maryanne, who was now wedded to Gaspar 
 Escobar, a native of Toledo, and a lace-maker by trade. 
 
 These spouses lived some years without having issue, 
 so that the venerable wife, freed from domestic cares, 
 had nothing to prevent her from dedicating herself to 
 the practices of piety, which formed her delight. It 
 was not so, however, until after a pilgrimage they made 
 to Our Lady of the Sierra of Yillaroya, when they ob- 
 tained the fruit of benediction so much desired by the 
 lace-maker. The Queen of Heaven blessed them with 
 thirteen children, of whom three daughters and one son 
 embraced the religious state, the latter in the convent 
 of St. Francis de Paul, and the two former in the 
 house of the Carmelites of Saragossa. Surrounded by 
 so many children, and dedicated to their Christian 
 education, she had often to sacrifice her devotion to her 
 domestic duties, which she did without hesitation, 
 knowing that the God of Mercy is content with the will 
 when acts are impossible. Yet she endeavoured in her 
 occupations to ever seek God with pure intention, and 
 so neither the work of her house and kitchen, nor the 
 spinning of thread in her trade, prevented her from 
 
110 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 living united to God and performing her ordinary ex- 
 ercises of piety. 
 
 But her husband did not look on it in the same way ; 
 for, though not a bad man, he did not esteem such 
 practices as highly as his wife. Hence, when Maryanne 
 was a little later than usual in returning from Mass, or 
 remained in the church to go to confession and commu- 
 nion, she was received by Gaspar, if not with a scold, 
 at least with a frown. One day, half angry, he said : 
 “ What is the nse of praying so much and going to com- 
 munion so often, and wasting so much time ? ” To 
 which his fervent wife answered : “I pray God, 
 brother, the Lord may let you taste spiritual things.” 
 And she was not content with simple desires, but in her 
 familiar intercourse, on every opportunity that offered, 
 she tried to bring her husband to a more fervent life. 
 And such was the efficacy of her prayers, such the 
 prudence and good sense of her talk, such the zeal with 
 which she laboured, that in the end she saw her wishes 
 realised. And, indeed, Gaspar began to lead so recol- 
 lected and fervent a life, that soon, full of holy consola- 
 tion at the favours the Lord communicated to him in 
 prayer, he would say to his wife and instructress : 
 “ Sister, now I don't wonder at long hours being passed 
 with the great God, when His Majesty really sheds the 
 rays of His light on the soul, and expels darkness from 
 it. Let us love the Lord very much, for His immense 
 goodness deserves it.” Maryanne, or rather the divine 
 love by means of Maryanne, had conquered the lace- 
 maker’s heart, as formerly did Paulina that of her spouse, 
 Pamachius. From the total delivery of himself up to 
 Jesus in all his undertakings and occupations he felt his 
 ^ ».soul disengaged from the goods of earth, and a mbition e d - 
 nothing but the treasures of heaven, as well for himself 
 as for his children. With their house regulated on such 
 sound principles, they encouraged each other on the 
 path of virtue, mutually assisted each other by prayer 
 and holy conversation, and formed a family of the just, 
 
VENERABLE MARYANNE VILLALBA. 
 
 Ill 
 
 a family Christianly happy, for in it reigned one sole 
 will, the love of virtue. Thus passed some years, the 
 soul of their holy enterprises being Maryanne, followed 
 by her husband, who was distinguished by his tender 
 love for the Holy Sacrament. 
 
 II. 
 
 Few are the saints and pious people who were not 
 remarkable for their devotion, respect, and reverence 
 for the sacred mystery of the Eucharist, and for the 
 desire to receive into their breast this bountiful Guest, 
 and keep him company when lying a prisoner for love 
 of ns in the tabernacle of the altar. For as the stomach’s 
 heat enkindles the appetite, and creates a longing for 
 material food, so also the great love of God, when it takes 
 possession of the heart, excites a hunger and desire to 
 eat this Bread of Life, or at least to contemplate it with 
 the eyes of faith placed on the Eucharistic table, and to 
 be spiritually united more closely to J esus Christ. And 
 so He appears to have wished to remain in this august 
 Sacrament to relieve the fatigues of love, and to satisfy 
 the longing of His elect. And if, as it is said, hunger 
 is the best sauce, what must be the sweetness expe- 
 rienced by the just, who, urged by this heavenly 
 hunger, approach the sacred table to eat the Bread of 
 Angels, this Sovereign Manna, in which are centred all 
 delights ! What the peace of those who visit with in- 
 tense love this Divine Sacrament, the memorial and 
 pledge of the immense charity of Jesus, in which, ac- 
 cording to the sacred Council of Trent, God poured out 
 the inestimable riches of His divine love. 
 
 Animated by these sentiments, Gaspar bewailed his 
 past blindness, not because he had lived in sin, which 
 he always abhorred, but because he had not appreciated 
 as they deserve, the celestial treasures contained in the 
 Holy Eucharist. It appeared to him madness to live 
 months without receiving Jesus, and to leave Him alone 
 without paying Him a visit at least once a day. This 
 
112 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 hunger gave him strength to hear with edifying resig- 
 nation the excessive pains with which the Lord willed 
 to purify him in this life. He suffered painful attacks 
 which the good Jesns sent him, and which he bore with 
 Christian patience till he died on the 5th of July, 1620. 
 
 When Maryanne, who had attended her husband 
 with the love and solicitude of a mother, found herself 
 free from the conjugal yoke, she thought of nothing 
 but uniting herself more closely to God, and reaching 
 the pinnacle of Christian perfection. One of the princi- 
 pal means of which she availed herself was to receive 
 with greater recollection and preparation the holy sacra- 
 ments of Penance and the Eucharist, which she had 
 always frequented with a holy anxiety and no little 
 advantage. Another of the fruitful sources from which, 
 after Communion and the holy Sacrifice of the Mass, 
 she derived greater incentives to virtue, and strength to 
 resist temptations, was the holy exercise of the Via 
 Grucis. Pope Clement XII., in his instructions issued 
 for the proper performance of this devotion, says that, 
 when practised with proper piety and fervour it slowly 
 infuses into the souls of the faithful, of whatever con- 
 dition in life, the pious habit of meditation, and a per- 
 fect reformation of morals. Maryanne never went 
 through it without some spiritual profit, and by its 
 means reached a high degree of contemplation, in which 
 the Lord bestowed on her singular favours. She added 
 to these foundations of solid virtue a great and tender 
 devotion to the Queen of Angels, and a mortification 
 manifested by extraordinary penances, disciplines, the 
 suffering of pain, persecution, calumny, and other things 
 with which her beloved Jesus tried the heroic patience 
 of his servant. After saying all this, it is needless to 
 add that she always repaid with kindness the greatest 
 offences and humiliations, that she burned with zeal for 
 the extension of the divine glory, and that, according 
 to her condition, she laboured with insatiable thirst for 
 the good of souls. Animated by this good spirit, she 
 
VENERABLE MARYANNE VILLALBA. 
 
 113 
 
 not only endeavoured with discretion and humility to 
 set all who approached her on fire with divine love, but 
 even went in search of lost souls to rescue them from 
 the jaws of hell. And, despite all the dangers of vanity 
 with which the enemy persecuted her, she managed to 
 preserve a profound humility and an immaculate purity. 
 We will quote only one instance in proof of this. 
 
 III. 
 
 When she was one day in the church at her prayers, 
 a man came and tempted her to sin; but Maryanne 
 answered with holy zeal: “Are you not ashamed to 
 speak of such foul things in the presence of your God ?” 
 and told him to be off about his business. She believed 
 it was the devil himself appeared to her on this occasion. 
 Her love of holy purity made her desire to cultivate the 
 acquaintance of pure religious souls, and to fly from the 
 dissolute. She knew the latter by an impure, unwhol- 
 some smell they emitted, and availed herself of this to 
 try to bring them to a better course of life ; and over the 
 former she often saw resplendent angels, who sang the di- 
 vine praises. And, in fact, according to the teaching of 
 the holy Fathers, chastity in a certain sense transforms 
 men into angels, and hence it is called the angelic virtue. 
 
 In humility she passed all limits. She had learned 
 from St. Teresa that the foundation-stones of perfection 
 must be laid very deep, on account of the weight of 
 virtue ; and hence she sought every means of smother- 
 ing vanity, and making herself despised by all. She 
 had great devotion to St. Teresa, and to St. Gertrude 
 the Great, and loved to hear their books read, particularly 
 those of the former. But she did not wish for their 
 extraordinary gifts, as St. Francis of Sales tells us of 
 another woman, who tried to talk and act like St. Teresa, 
 and came to imagine that she was like her, even in her 
 visions and revelations. So far do vanity and pride 
 reach ! Maryanne did not allow this monster to enter 
 
 8 
 
114 
 
 Light from the lowly. 
 
 her heart ; but, though favoured herself with extra- 
 ordinary graces of God, sought in the saint’s books 
 nothing but humility, and self-negation. 
 
 Her patience, as the offspring of humility, was equally 
 edifying. In her last illness but one, a nun sent her an 
 Agnus Dei by a priest, and other relics to console her. 
 She took them, and, after praying over them, returned 
 them to the priest, saying that the nun did not care 
 much for her when she wished to restore her to health 
 so soon, and not give her an opportunity of meriting. 
 When the priest asked her what she meant, she answered 
 that St. Teresa had cured her. Though freed from her 
 sufferings against her will, she did not fail to acknowledge 
 God’s favour in her cure, for which she gave the Lord 
 ahd the saint her grateful thanks. 
 
 IV. 
 
 She endeavoured to lay up treasures of eternal life for 
 herself when the Lord should be pleased to call her from 
 this exile. And, if she were always solicitous to not 
 lose a single point of perfection, she was much more so 
 when God revealed to her her proximate end. 
 
 To purify his servant more and more, the Lord visited 
 her with a complication of painful diseases. In these 
 sufferings she appeared like another Job in her Chris- 
 tian resignation. One of her principal consolations in 
 the martyrdom she endured was the recollection of her 
 three children who had joined religious orders, and the 
 good conduct of the rest. After receiving the holy 
 sacraments with the fervour we may suppose, her 
 daughter Margaret, who was in novitiate, send word to 
 her by a married sister that she wanted her when in 
 heaven to ask Our Lady to be a mother to her in her 
 place. The dying woman heard this message with 
 singular consolation, and, turning to an image of Mary 
 at her bedside, prayed for some time, and then said : 
 “ Tell Margaret I will do what she asks, and the Virgin 
 will take her as a daughter.” 
 
SLESSÉD PETER OF SIENNA; 
 
 115 
 
 A iittle after, her confessor* Father John Perez, arrived, 
 and, knowing that her end was near, said to her : “It 
 is time now, my daughter, to go to heaven/* “ Yes, 
 father,” she replied, “ it is time to go.” When she was 
 in her last agony, her daughter, Emerenciana, fearing 
 she would not be able to bear up, wished to leave the 
 room ; but her mother with edifying serenity detained 
 her, saying : “ Don’t go, child ; all will soon be over.” 
 Soon after, about mid-day, turning to the image of the 
 Blessed Virgin, she said with great fervour : “ Holy 
 Virgin, it is time now : it is time now, Mother mine.” 
 Then she made the sign of the cross, saying : “ Glory 
 be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy 
 Ghost,” and delivered up her spirit to her Creator, on 
 the 4th of December, 1623. She was interred with 
 great solemnity in the church of St. Francis de Paul, 
 whose tertian she had been. In the annals of this Order 
 are recorded various miracles and apparitions which 
 happened after death in honour of Maryanne, who, in 
 the humble trade of lace-maker, had attained so high a 
 degree of sanctity. 
 
 BLESSED PETER OF SIENNA, COMB-MAKER, 
 
 I. 
 
 Peter was a native of Sienna, where, through his pro- 
 found humility and heroic virtues, he merited the 
 public estimation of his fellow- citizens, and copious 
 benedictions from heaven. Well grounded in the 
 Christian maxims, he pitied the sad fall of various 
 youths of his own age, who were blinded by the false 
 lustre of pleasures, and became convinced that a young 
 man whom God does not call to perpetual chastity 
 should seek a safe asylum in holy matrimony as soon as 
 Providence affords him the opportunity. He conse- 
 quently looked out for a girl of his own position, and 
 similar sentiments, whose Christian conduct might be a 
 sure pledge of the peace and harmony in which he hoped 
 
116 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 to live with, his future spouse. The Lord, who never 
 closes His ears to the prayers of the humble, granted our 
 youth the grace he asked for. He was married to a 
 virtuous girl, and lived in such union and concord with 
 her, that they might he proposed as a model to Christian 
 spouses. Religion makes the man the head of the 
 house, and the woman the angel of the domestic hearth. 
 Peter and his wife, though strictly keeping the place 
 which God had assigned them, appeared to have the 
 same heart, the same affections, and the same aspira- 
 tions. Peter, ever at peace with himself and with God, 
 succeeded in communicating it to his wife also, sweeten- 
 ing the bitterness she sometimes had to suffer from the 
 world, and lightening her cross. And his docile and 
 affectionate companion studied to please him and com- 
 fort him, for she knew that in this she was fulfilling 
 God’s holy will. There are never wanting ill-minded 
 people who can never live at peace, either with them- 
 selves or others, and who introduce, perhaps without 
 thinking of it, discord into Christian families ; but Peter 
 and his wife closed their ears to idle talk, and continued 
 to live united as God commands. If they noticed any 
 fault or defect, their charity covered it with a close veil, 
 or sweetly corrected it. This charity, which made them 
 mutually overlook their faults, obliged them also to give 
 •each other proofs of affection, and daily draw closer the 
 bonds which united their hearts to Jesus. 
 
 Peter earned his livelihood by making combs, a trade 
 which he followed from youth to old age. In imitation 
 •of Jesus and Joseph, when his hands were engaged at 
 his work he kept his heart united to God, and offered 
 Him the sweet aroma of prayer. Content with the 
 necessaries of life, he never tried to rise above his humble 
 position, nor gave entrance into his breast to that thirst 
 of gold and vanities which buries many opulent families 
 in misfortune ; on the contrary, trusting in Divine 
 Providence, he generously divided his little savings with 
 •the poor, and avoided those vain amusements in which 
 
BLESSED PETER OF SIENNA. 
 
 117 
 
 many lose their time and their true felicity. And, 
 indeed, how many give way to their passions, and only 
 find unhappiness where they thought to have met with 
 pleasure ! Wanting in that lively faith which embellishes 
 prosperous as well as adverse fortune with the splendour 
 of that divine sun which vivifies and governs all ; de- 
 prived of hope, which transforms our very misfortunes 
 into springs of sweetness and consolation ; devoid of 
 charity, which places our imperishable felicity in the 
 cross, they see nothing around them but objects which 
 fill them with weariness and disgust. They run after 
 diversions, after joy and pleasure, which only increase 
 their hunger, and enlarge the vacuum in their hearts. 
 The world sometimes thinks them very happy, but they 
 hear in the depths of their souls a voice which tells 
 them they are deceived, and calls them to felicity — a 
 felicity whose echoes sound at a great distance from 
 them. Disgusted with a life of pleasure, they go in 
 search of riches, and riches answer that not in them 
 lies felicity. They try everything : they seek after 
 honour and mundane glory, and the vacuum of the heart 
 still increases, and when they think they have happiness 
 in their hand, they become convinced that they had been 
 pursuing a phantom. What a contrast there is between 
 worldlings and those who follow Jesus in earnest, by 
 fulfilling all the duties of a Christian ! Our comb- 
 maker discovered the source of true happiness in the 
 smoke of the horns, and in the ivory wrought by his 
 hands. He who has least wants is the most happy. 
 
 II. 
 
 Our saint had no other desire than to comply with the 
 Divine Will, and this he could satisfy without counting 
 on man for assistance. To victoriously trample on 
 human respect, he laid aside his ordinary dress, and put 
 on the livery of penance by enlisting in the third secular 
 
118 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 Order of St. Francis. He was from his recollection, 
 piety, and contempt of all things earthly, a perfect model 
 for his fellow-members. Having lost his sponse a short 
 time after he joined the congregation, he sold all he 
 possessed, and after distributing the proceeds among the 
 indigent, gave himself up entirely to the practice of 
 Christian perfection. On Sundays, festival days, and at 
 other spare times, he visited the celebrated hospital of 
 Sienna called St. Mary of the Stairs, and there at the 
 bedside of the sick, like a good Samaritan, he poured on 
 the wounds of their hearts the balsam of consolation, 
 cheered them with the fruits of his labour, and encour- 
 aged them to suffer the pains of this life with resignation. 
 
 But the exercise from which he derived torrents of 
 wisdom was that of prayer, in which he spent the greater 
 part of the day and night before the Blessed Sacrament, 
 sometimes in St. Dominick’s church, and at others in 
 that of Our Lady, which was the principal one of the 
 town. The illuminations he received in this close inter- 
 course with God were very great. The Lord showed 
 him in them the high degree of glory which St. Francis 
 gained by following closely in the footsteps of the 
 Redeemer. His fervent devotion to this holy patriarch, 
 which induced him to put on his habit, enkindled in 
 him also a lively desire to live among his children. At 
 last, after many prayers and entreaties, he succeeded in 
 being received as a guest, and as such he passed the 
 rest of his life among the Friars Minor of Sienna, en- 
 joying all the consolations which the Lord reserves for 
 pure souls who valiantly resist the attacks of the world, 
 the flesh, and the devil. Meditation on the divine 
 truths had so inflamed the heart of this poor artisan with 
 the fire of charity, that it sometimes appeared exteriorly, 
 and surrounded him with an aureola of light. This 
 prodigy, witnessed by many, acquired for him the fame 
 of virtue and sanctity ; but praise and public estima- 
 tion weakened not his deep humility. He knew that 
 men’s judgments are fallible, and that neither their 
 
BLESSED PETER OF SIENNA. 
 
 119 
 
 blame nor their praise can change one from what he is 
 in the eyes of infinite wisdom. So, never losing sight 
 of his own worthlessness and nothingness, and attri- 
 buting all the virtue he had to the source of all good, 
 far from being elated by praise, he appeared to cast 
 deeper roots in humility, ever seeking contempt and the 
 lowering of himself. He held silence in great estima- 
 tion as a powerful means of avoiding dissipation. The 
 servant of God observed it with great exactness : he 
 abhorred vain and idle conversations, and carefully 
 avoided superfluous words. When he went out to dis- 
 pose of his combs, shoehorns, and other articles, and met 
 with a purchaser he told him precisely the price, without 
 praising his wares. If the buyer tried to pull him down in 
 the price the comb-maker listened patiently; and if he had 
 to make an answer he did so with sweetness, without tak- 
 ing offence at the other’s importunity, who sometimes made 
 him upset all his goods without purchasing anything. 
 
 Dreading the loss of his purity of soul and body, he 
 avoided every danger ; and to have his passions under 
 complete control he kept them in subjection by morti- 
 fication. His fasts were rigorous and almost continual, 
 his sleep short, his prayers long, and his pilgrimages 
 frequent and painful. The sorrow with which he be- 
 wailed and prayed God’s mercy on his slightest faults 
 was extraordinary. One day he wrote down all the 
 defects of his youth, that he might have them ever before 
 his eyes, and wash them out with new tears of repen- 
 tance. Having gone to a place near Sienna called St. 
 Francis’ tree, he went over them one by one in great 
 bitterness of heart; and as he was shedding copious 
 tears over them, which the love of God drew from him, 
 an angel’s voice told him his sins were completely par- 
 doned. On this the humble comb-maker was encouraged, 
 not to slacken in his fervour, but to increase his penances 
 in order to lay up in heaven stores of riches which perish 
 not, and of which sin alone can rob us, till wo make our 
 peace with an offended God. 
 
120 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 III. 
 
 The constant and heroic examples of virtue which he 
 gave, though in the eyes of the slaves of the world only 
 humbug and hypocrisy, gained for him as a rule among 
 decent people veneration and esteem, which the Lord 
 encouraged by extraordinary graces. 
 
 Besides the splendours which sometimes miraculously 
 surrounded him, as we have said, He gave him the gift 
 of penetrating hearts, and the grace of curing the sick. 
 He brought a child to life, and freed the father from a 
 violent disorder. He cured Malfei, a citizen of Sienna, 
 of acute pains in the head by simply making the sign of 
 the cross on him. He dictated and wrote, though un- 
 lettered, most salutary advices, which prove how full he 
 was of the science of the saints. In fine, our poor 
 comb-maker, rich in celestial gifts, gained the apprecia- 
 tion and regard, not only of the highest and most illus- 
 trious people of the town, such as Blessed Ambrose of 
 Sienna, who gloried in his friendship, and faithfully fol- 
 lowed his counsel, but of the magistrates themselves, 
 who consulted him in difficult and complicated public 
 business, wondering ever at his superhuman wisdom. 
 At last, full of deserts, he fell grievously ill; and having 
 received the holy sacraments with seraphic fervour, he 
 exchanged this mortal life for the eternal on the 4th of 
 December, 1289. He was buried in the church of St. 
 Francis, and the rulers of Sienna erected a magnificent 
 mausoleum over him, and with the consent of the inha- 
 bitants decided to annually celebrate the memory of so 
 illustrious a son. Pope Pius II. published the glory of 
 the pious artisan in a sermon preached in Sienna, and 
 Pius VII., in 1802, gave permission to the townspeople 
 to annually celebrate the feast of the glorious comb- 
 maker. 
 
Ilcátr'mg front fije |)tstorij of fije Hfllir Jfamtlg. 
 
 FROM THE PRESENTATION OF JESUS IN THE 
 TEMPLE TO HIS BAPTISM. 
 
 It was ordained in the ancient law that a woman who 
 should conceive in the ordinary way and bear a son, 
 should remain forty days in her house as unclean, and 
 should then go to the temple to be purified, offering at 
 the same time a lamb and a dove, and if poor a pair of 
 doves or pigeons, and asking the priest to pray to God 
 for her. There was another law which affected the first- 
 born son. In recognition of the great favour received 
 by the Hebrews, when the exterminating Angel slew 
 all the first-born of the Egyptians, leaving those of the 
 chosen people unharmed, it was ordained that all the 
 first-born sons should be dedicated to the service of the 
 altar, or after their presentation, should be redeemed 
 with coin equivalent to about four shillings of our 
 money. 
 
 It is clear that neither Jesus nor Mary was subject to 
 these prescriptions ; but in order to cure our disobedience 
 by their humility, when the day of the Purification ar- 
 rived, Joseph and Mary took the Infant God and, pre- 
 senting Him in the temple, redeemed Him with the 
 offering of the poor. At that time there lived in Jeru- 
 salem a venerable old man called Simeon, a just man, 
 who feared God and was filled with the Holy Ghost, 
 and was expecting the consolation of Israel. Some have 
 
122 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 held that he was a priest of the Old Law and others 
 have believed that he was a blind man who was cnred 
 the moment he took Jesus in his arms ; but neither of 
 these assertions has any strong foundation. The Scrip- 
 tures only say that this fortunate man was told by God 
 that he should not die till he had seen the promised 
 Messias. Inspired then and urged on by divine impulse, 
 he went to the temple just as the parents of Jesus 
 entered to offer the Child in fulfilment of the law. 
 When Simeon saw J esus he knew from heaven that the 
 Child was the Christ, and taking Him in his arms he 
 blessed God in these words : “ How Thou dost dismiss 
 
 Thy servant, 0 Lord, according to Thy word in peace. 
 Because my eyes have seen Thy salvation, which 
 Thou hast prepared before the face of all peoples. A 
 light to the revelation of the Gentiles and the glory of 
 Thy people Israel.” Mary and Joseph paid attentive 
 ear to the words of the saintly old man, who blessed 
 them both, and turning specially to the Virgin, said to 
 her with prophetic spirit : “ Behold this Child is set 
 
 for the fall and for the resurrection of many in Israel, 
 and for a sign which shall be contradicted. And thy 
 own soul a sword shall pierce.’’ There also lived at 
 this town a prophetess named Anna, now advanced in 
 years, who, after seven years of married life, had been 
 left a widow in the flower of her youth, and she was 
 always occupied in the service of the Lord and of his 
 temple, spending her days and nights in prayer and 
 fasting. This virtuous old woman also arrived at the 
 same time, and in her turn burst out in praises of the 
 Lord, and said wonderful things of the Child to all who 
 looked for the redemption of Israel. See how the Lord 
 even in this world rewards the constancy of his faithful 
 and loyal servants ! 
 
 Mary and Joseph, having complied with the ordi- 
 nances of the law, returned to Nazareth, which was situ- 
 ated in Galilee. In the meantime Herod was awaiting 
 the return of the Magi ; but finding his wicked expecta- 
 
HISTORY OF THE HOLY FAMILY. 
 
 123 
 
 tions frustrated, and more and more confirmed in tlie 
 belief of the birth of the Liberator of Israel, and the fear 
 least he should be robbed of his kingdom daily increasing, 
 he adopted the barbarous resolution of destroying Jesus 
 by condemning to death all the children under two years 
 in and about Bethlehem. The executioners were about 
 carrying out this cruel order amid the tears and wailings 
 of the poor mothers when the angel of the Lord spoke 
 in dreams to the patriarch St. J oseph, and said to him : 
 “ Arise and take the Child and His Mother and fly 
 into the land of Egypt ; and be there until I shall tell 
 thee. For it will come to pass that Herod will seek 
 the Child to destroy Him.” Quickly did the saint 
 arise, for it was yet night, and taking those two beloved 
 treasures with him, fled into Egypt to free them from the 
 hands of the cruel tyrant. And now did the prophecy 
 of Simeon begin to be fulfilled, and that holy family, 
 the most innocent the world ever saw, was obliged to 
 eat the bitter bread of exile, for our edification and 
 example. 
 
 Several holy Fathers, supported by a long- established 
 tradition, assure us that when these blessed pilgrims 
 entered that idolatrous country the statues of the false 
 god3 trembled, and some fell in pieces to the ground. 
 It also appears probable that for at least five years our 
 holy Pilgrims had to endure the pains and privations of 
 exile ; but they were always submissive to the will of 
 God, whose infinite providence never ceases to watch 
 over those who serve Him with constancy and fidelity. 
 According to another Eastern tradition the Holy Family 
 resided in Hermopolis, between Heliopolis and Cairo, 
 where is yet pointed out a fountain, held in great 
 veneration because it is believed that the Virgin washed 
 the clothes of the Child Jesus in it. 
 
 Herod died in a short time, full of rage and tortured 
 by acutest pains, for he was devoured by maggots, in 
 punishment of his impiety and pride, before death came 
 to close his eyes and bury him in an abyss of eternal 
 
124 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 torments and despair. After tlie death of this monster 
 the angel of God again appeared in dreams to St. Joseph, 
 and said to him : “ Arise and take the Child and His 
 mother, and go into the land of Israel. For they are 
 dead who sought the life of the Child.” St. Joseph at 
 once prepared to execute the order of the celestial mes- 
 senger ; hut hearing that Archelaus reigned in Judea in 
 the place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go 
 thither, and, warned in sleep, retired to Gallilee and 
 dwelt in Nazareth, as had been announced by the 
 prophets. 
 
 In the meantime the Child was growing in age and 
 in proportion as His body was developed, the immense 
 wisdom contained in his soul was exteriorly manifested. 
 According to the custom of the Jews, the Holy Family 
 annually visited Jerusalem to celebrate the feast of the 
 Pasch. One time, when the Child was twelve years old, 
 He went up with his parents to the Holy City to fulfil 
 the prescriptions of the law in the temple of God. When 
 the august ceremonies were over the multitude dispersed 
 each to his own dwelling. St. Joseph and the Virgin 
 took the road to Nazareth, hut, being separated in the 
 crowd, they did not remark that Jesus remained behind 
 in the city ; on the contrary, each thought that the Child 
 God was with the other, or with some of their friends, 
 and they had gone an entire day’s journey before they 
 missed Him. 
 
 Arriving at nightfall at the inn, they saw He was not 
 there ; they waited and waited for Him ; hut, finding 
 He did not turn up, they began to seek Him among all 
 their acquaintances. Vain search ! The Lord wished 
 to prove their invincible patience, and hence He sub- 
 jected it to so hitter a trial. Finding, then, that all their 
 efforts were useless, they turned hack to Jerusalem, and 
 continued their search for three whole days. Great 
 must have been the grief of those parents for the loss of 
 one they loved so much. But at last the Lord was 
 satisfied with the heroic resignation of those afflicted 
 
HISTORY OF THE HOLY FAMILY. 
 
 125 
 
 pilgrims, and liberated them from the bitterness they 
 were tasting, by conducting them to the temple, where 
 they found Him in the midst of the doctors, putting them 
 questions and listening to their answers. The doctors 
 were astonished at the observations which fell from the 
 mouth of the Child. Mary and Joseph also wondered 
 on witnessing a scene so remarkable ; and the Mother, 
 turning to Jesus, said to Him : “ Son, why hast Thou 
 done so to us ? Behold, thy father and I have sought 
 Thee sorrowing.” To which the Child answered: 
 “ How is it that you sought me ? Did you not know 
 that I must be about my Father’s business ?” Though 
 none of the spectators understpod these words, the 
 Virgin treasured them in her heart, and meditated on 
 the profound mysteries they contained. Full of content 
 at finding Him, and blessing the divine mercies, they 
 returned to Nazareth, where Jesus lived entirely subject 
 to them till He was thirty years of age, and grew in 
 grace and wisdom before God and men. 
 
 The evangelists tell us nothing of what our Lord did 
 from His twelfth year till He commenced His public life ; 
 we only know that, though God and Man, He lived 
 obedient to His parents, as well- reared, docile children 
 should ever do. And so, according to St. Basil and 
 other Fathers of the Church, He performed with patience 
 and meekness, whatever corporal tasks the Virgin and 
 St. Joseph marked out for Him ; for, though the social 
 position of the Holy Family was not that of beggars 
 exactly, yet it was not such that they could exempt 
 themselves from the labour required to procure the 
 necessaries of life. It is true that Jesus, of his omni- 
 potence, could have provided them by other means, and 
 by His sole will filled their house with untold wealth ; 
 but He wished to show us by His example that man’s 
 true riches consist, not in the possession of earthly goods, 
 but in the cultivation of virtue ; and that labour, sancti- 
 fied by the spirit of obedience, and taken as a penalty of 
 the sins He came to redeem us from, far from lowering, 
 
126 
 
 ÍíÍCxHT ÍÉOM THE LOWLY. 
 
 ennobles him, and opens up for him a mine of celestial 
 treasures. He therefore preferred to the brilliancy and 
 lustre of a noble position, in the eyes of the world, the 
 privations of an humble trade, sharing in the toil of his 
 putative father, and helping him to earn what was 
 required for the support of the Family. He never went 
 to school to learn letters ; and this more because He was 
 the son of struggling parents than because He was the 
 uncreated Wisdom, supposing, as we must, that He 
 wished to appear like other men. 
 
 Neither do we know for certain what trade He fol- 
 lowed, but tradition assures us that He was a carpenter. 
 At sight of this excellent Model, who will be ashamed of 
 His profession, how lowly soever it may appear ? Who 
 will refuse to labour when he sees the Son of God incar- 
 nate handle the hatchet, work the saw, and grasp the 
 plane ? Who will regard any office as humiliating when 
 he contemplates Him who came down from heaven to 
 regenerate the world, engaged in manual toil ? How 
 happy would the majority of artisans be if they would 
 only endeavour to imitate this good example ! Neither 
 avarice nor ambition ever found entrance into that happy 
 cottage ; and hence, contented in their mediocrity, they 
 had not to kill themselves to earn the necessaries of life, 
 particularly when we remember the abstemiousness with 
 which they lived, the modesty of their dress, and the 
 absence of all superfluity and luxury, which are the ruin 
 and perdition of many families. When we take into 
 account this edifying conduct, this mode of life, ever 
 regulated by the suggestions of reason and the prescrip- 
 tions of the divine law, we wonder not that they should 
 have something left to give to the poor, whom they 
 always treated with amiability and sweetness. 
 
 In their workshop there was never heard even a 
 whisper unbecoming Christian perfection ; never was the 
 good name of a neighbour lowered ; never were those 
 stones told which only serve to corrupt the heart of the 
 incautious, and sow the seeds of hatred and discord 
 
filSTORV OF TlíE HOLY FAMILY. 
 
 127 
 
 never was heard the echo of those songs unbecoming a 
 family of saints. If they wanted to lighten the fatigue 
 of their toil with lively airs, they found in the Psalms 
 and sacred odes material enough to raise their spirits, 
 while praising the Lord of all consolation. By such holy 
 conduct, accompanied by prayer, the sanctification of 
 feast days, and all kinds of works of piety and mercy, 
 that illimitable Wisdom and infinite sanctity, which from 
 the Incarnation was possessed by the Child-God, became 
 year by year more manifested in the exterior ; so that 
 like a lovely garden He appeared to grow in grace in the 
 eyes of God, and He became more wonderful in the eyes 
 of men. 
 
 And so He continued in His lowly workshop till He 
 was thirty years of age, when He lost His putative father, 
 who in his humble trade knew so well how to corres- 
 pond to the lofty ends for which the Lord had destined 
 him. The Gospel has only one word of praise for the 
 chaste spouse of Mary — it says that he was a just man; 
 but with a consummate justice, a justice which involves 
 the highest perfection, and made him worthy to preside 
 over the family of Jesus and Mary. His death was a 
 pattern of the sleep of the just. With his conscience 
 free from all fault and remorse, assisted by the Saviour 
 Himself and His blessed Mother, perfectly resigned to 
 the Divine Will, he expired in the arms of Him who was 
 to be his judge in death and his crown in the kingdom 
 of heaven. 
 
 But up to the death of Jesus the gates of Glory were 
 closed by the sin of Adam, and hence the soul of J oseph 
 the just descended to Limbo, surrounded by angelic 
 choirs, and carried to the prisoners detained there the 
 glorious news of their proximate rescue. With what joy 
 were not the holy patriarchs filled on the arrival of the 
 happiest among them ! By means of him they surely 
 learned all the mysteries of the life of Jesus, and 
 admiring his countless mercies, and tranquilly awaiting 
 the accomplishment of all their prophecies, they 
 
128 
 
 LIGHT FEOM THE LOWLY. 
 
 intoned hymns of gratitude and praise to the Divine 
 Redeemer, praying at the same time that the glorious 
 day of their liberation might he hastened. We do not 
 know where the mortal remains of our blessed Patriarch 
 rest, and hence many piously believe that he was one of 
 those who arose in the triumph of the Saviour, and 
 ascended with Jesus to heaven body and soul. No doubt 
 the eminent sanctity of Joseph gives colour to such a 
 belief, and it is beyond doubt that his power and weight 
 with the King of Glory, if they do not surpass, are at 
 least equal to, those of the brightest seraphim and the 
 greatest saints of the Old or New Testament. 
 
St. Zita. 
 
LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 Scries III. 
 
 BLESSED HYPOLITUS GALANTI, SILK- 
 WEAVER. 
 
 I. 
 
 In this servant of God all secular people, and above all 
 weavers, have a model of an apostle of the divine glory 
 in the midst of the cares and toil consequent on one’s 
 having to earn his bread with the sweat of his brow. 
 Blessed Hypolitus was bom in Florence, on the 12th of 
 October, 1565, of parents whose probity and solid vir- 
 tues were their principal riches. They tried by every 
 means to preserve the innocence of their son, as the 
 richest legacy they could bequeath him. Hence they 
 never let him out of their hands, and took particular 
 care not only to instruct him in the Christian doctrine, 
 and give him a taste for the practices of piety, but also 
 to keep him away from all danger of contamination, and 
 above all. to infuse into him a holy horror of bad com- 
 panions, the plague of youth and the ruin of innocence. 
 
 ! Through this special care the youth grew up, adorned 
 with such graces that he was soon admired for his 
 modesty, application, recollection, and all the virtues 
 becoming a saint. He had a most delicate conscience. 
 In his innocent games it was enough for him to hear 
 
132 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 from one of his companions a loose word or a bad story 
 to make him sbnn him like an infected sheep that might 
 taint him, and deprive him of eternal life. So edifying 
 was his conduct that he was scarcely twelve years of 
 age when he attracted the attention of Alexander de 
 Medicis, then Archbishop of Florence, and afterwards 
 Pope under the name of Leo XI. This prelate, anxious 
 that young lads of the age of Hypolitus should see, as it 
 were, reflected in him the gifts and virtues which should 
 adorn them, sent him to teach the elements of religion 
 to the other hoys. He did so, and encouraged many to 
 avoid the dangers of the world, to frequent the sacra- 
 ments, and consecrate themselves to prayer and pious 
 practices, which give such consolation in troubles and 
 misfortunes. The better to avail himself of the influence 
 of divine grace, during his long life, he distributed his 
 time over religious exercises, works of mercy, and 
 labour. 
 
 Apprenticed by his parents to the trade of silkweaver, 
 he made himself beloved by his master for his docility, 
 diligence, and modesty, as well as for his cleverness in 
 doing any work entrusted to him. Convinced that 
 man’s greatest enemy is his own passions, which ever 
 struggle to withdraw us from the way marked out by 
 reason and faith, one of the humble weaver’s first cares 
 was to deprive them of all incentive, by curbing his 
 inclinations, flying from dangerous diversions and inter- 
 course, conquering the flesh with mortification, and often 
 denying himself what was fair and lawful in order to 
 control himself within the limits of the law of God. 
 Every sacrifice was sweet to him if only it tended to 
 Christian perfection. To persevere faithful to his good 
 resolutions, he employed three special means — prayer, 
 a tender devotion to the Blessed Virgin, and frequent 
 approach to the sacraments. The salutary teachings of 
 death and eternity, the sufferings of J esus, and the heroic 
 
BLESSED HYPOLITUS GALANTI. 
 
 133 
 
 examples of the saints supplied him with abundant 
 material for a short meditation every day. For this 
 purpose he would retire to the house of God, where the 
 silence, the scarcity of light, the melancholy walls, the 
 flickering flame of the pallid lamp, the majesty of the 
 sacred ceremonies, and everything about him, invited 
 him to serious and useful thoughts. But also in his 
 workshop, at the sound of his loom, without neglecting 
 his work, did he know how to keep his mind united to 
 God. The very work he had in hand, the pieces he was 
 weaving, constantly reminded him of the shortness of 
 life, which, like a thread, snaps when least expected. 
 But what wonder that, amid his labours, he knew how to 
 weave his perfection and sanctity, when in the crowded 
 streets and noisy squares he could ever find a corner in 
 his heart to retire to in order to offer to the Almighty 
 the sweet incense of prayer ? In this furnace were cast 
 those darts of all the virtues which he aimed at heaven, 
 those ardent acts of faith, hope, and charity which pro- 
 cured for him so many benedictions. 
 
 II. 
 
 He entertained a filial tenderness for the Queen of 
 Heaven. She was his succour in all his troubles and 
 necessities. He consulted her in all his doubts. He 
 asked her counsel in all his undertakings. He received 
 from her courage and perseverance in all his combats, 
 and through her he triumphed over all the wiles of his 
 enemies. To gain her love he allowed no day to pass 
 without making her some offering. On his knees before 
 her altar he might constantly be seen reciting the Bosary, 
 a favourite devotion of his, which he never neglected no 
 matter how busy. Besides, he prepared for the principal 
 
134 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 feasts of his and our beloved Lady and Mother, some- 
 times with a fervent novena, sometimes with works of 
 mercy, and ever by being more careful not to fall into 
 imperfections, that he might be more pleasing in her 
 maternal eyes, and draw down on himself and the world 
 the benedictions of heaven. 
 
 Hypolitus knew well that, though these means were 
 very good and meritorious, they easily lost their efficacy 
 if he did not have recourse to the fountains of sanctity 
 and fortitude, which are the holy sacraments. Hence 
 he often ran to wash his slight stains in the waters of 
 penance, and so. prepare himself to sit clothed with the 
 nuptial garment at the Eucharistic table, the source of 
 ineffable treasures. With what confusion and tears did 
 he confess apparently insignificant faults, and with what 
 fervour he received the Bread of the strong! The world 
 did not fail to mock Hypolitus, but Hypolitus laughed 
 at the world in return, and openly trampled on its rules 
 and despised its maxims. Though the followers of the 
 world called him a hypocrite and a cheat, and other 
 things of this sort; though some of his fellow- tradesmen, 
 joining men without the fear of God, endeavoured, by 
 hints and sarcasms, to dissuade him from his pious habits, 
 the earnest weaver never failed to attend devoutly at 
 the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, sermons, and the cere- 
 monies of the Church. Notwithstanding its efforts the 
 world feared him, for Hypolitus declared incessant war 
 on it, publishing its wickedness and exposing its snares, 
 into which unwary youth often fall. Well might a 
 lesson be taken from the industrious zeal with which he 
 availed himself of his moments. Every minute his toil 
 left him free he employed sometimes in the reading of 
 good books, other times in the practices of piety, again 
 in instructing the ignorant in the Christian doctrine, but 
 ever in something useful to his soul. It is wonderful 
 what a decided will can do, when favoured by divine 
 
BLESSED HTPOLITUS GALANTI. 135 
 
 31 JJ1M 
 
 grace. Our magnanimous weaver, without wealth, with- 
 out patrons, without deep knowledge, with only un- 
 wearied and industrious zeal, undertook the reformation 
 of a city like Florence. For this purpose he founded a 
 congregation of persons animated by his own sentiments, 
 intended simply to give instruction in the truths of reli- 
 gion, and to mould in virtue, as well children of both 
 sexes as adults buried in ignorance of their most sacred 
 duties, no less than of the truths necessary for sal- 
 vation 
 
 III. 
 
 Like every good work directed to promote the Divine 
 Glory, that of this servant of God met with obstacles 
 which would have scared and broken down others of 
 less courage and determination in the salvation of souls. 
 Hypolitus appeared to gain new strength at sight of the 
 difficulties created by hell, and drew not breath till he 
 saw all conquered, and his noble intentions realised. The 
 tenderness, amiability, and sweetness with which he 
 taught young and old were edifying. He bore with 
 their defects and impertinence ; he was all to all, and 
 made the truths of the catechism attractive by stories 
 and anecdotes which impressed them on the minds of 
 his pupils. How true is the saying that more flies are 
 caught with a drop of honey than a barrel of gall ! 
 Hence the saint never had recourse to severity till he 
 exhausted all the resources of tenderness which his 
 ardent charity suggested. Incalculable is the number 
 of souls he rescued from the claws of the devil, and 
 restored to the peace and consolation they had lost 
 through sin, and vainly sought in the goods of this 
 miserable exile. There were times when he was con- 
 temned and persecuted by the very people whose wounds 
 he wished to heal ; but the servant of God answered 
 
136 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 tliis ingratitude with new favours, and above all by ask- 
 ing the' God of mercies, like a good pastor, to run to free 
 the prodigal child from the teeth of the infernal wolf. 
 
 The zeal of our fervent weaver soon had new imitators 
 in all Italy, and in a few years there were established 
 a multitude of associations under the name of Congre- 
 gation of the Christian Doctrine , adjusted to the rules 
 which Hypolitus gave his, and with the same objects in 
 view. The devout artisan was the soul of his congre- 
 gation, rousing the lukewarm, aiding the weak, exciting 
 the fervent, calming the impetuous, and edifying all by 
 his conversation and example. In this and other works 
 of mercy equally meritorious Hypolitus spent his life. 
 He died in the odour of sanctity on the 20th March, 
 1619, at the age of fifty -five. He was gifted with the 
 power of prophecy, and could read the future and pene- 
 trate the secret thoughts of men. His name is to this 
 day pronounced with veneration in Tuscany and other 
 places to which the influence of his zeal extended. He 
 was beatified for his heroic virtues and well-established 
 miracles on the 15th of May, 1825, by Pope Leo XII. 
 
 BLESSED NICHOLAS DE FLUE, FARMER, 
 GRAZIER, AND SOLDIER. 
 
 I 
 
 In Unterwals, one of the cantons of Switzerland, on the 
 high altar of the beautiful church of Saulm, there is 
 offered to the devotion of the faithful a kneeling statue 
 oi^iop of a marble tomb, inlaid with gold and precious 
 stones, and bearing on its neck several military decora- 
 tions. It represents a warrior of the fifteenth century, 
 who with his sword in one hand, and his beads in the 
 other, fought valiantly against the enemies of his religion 
 
BLESSED NICHOLAS DE FLUE, 
 
 137 
 
 and country. This warrior, called by his countrymen 
 Brother Claus, is the blessed Nicholas de Flue, the 
 perfect model of fervent Catholics. This servant of God 
 was born in the village of Fluhly, on the 21st of March, 
 1417, when the prelates of the Church were trying, in 
 the Council of Constance, to bring the schism which 
 divided her to a close. The parents of Nicholas were 
 decent graziers, who lived comfortably on the produce 
 of their farm and stock, and bore a high character among 
 their neighbours. Fearing God, and deeply devout to 
 the Blessed Virgin, they infused into their children that 
 modesty, simplicity, devotion, and charity, which they 
 had received as their best inheritance from their own 
 parents and grandparents. Above all in Nicholas, whose 
 reason was more developed than his age, the Christian 
 maxims of his pious parents cast such deep roots, that 
 his tender devotion was their delight and enchantment 
 from his earliest years. They always found him ready 
 to obey their slightest hint, never lazy or negligent in 
 fulfilling their commands; always sweet and tender, 
 never bitter or ill-humoured ; ever truthful and sincere, 
 never false or double-dealing. Simplicity, modesty, and 
 candour were the precious fruits ofmnocence, which he " ; 
 
 preserved unstained throughouirlif e . 
 
 Dedicated by his father to herding and the cultivation 
 of the farm, he learned how to perfectly harmonise these 
 occupations with the exercises of piety. Whenever he 
 went alone to his labours or to look after his flock, he 
 was always repeating the Rosary of the Blessed Virgin. 
 When at sunset he returned home, he found the greatest 
 pleasure in entering the church of Fluhly, and praying 
 to .God and the Queen of Angels. Sometimes, on the 
 pretext of working a little longer, he allowed his com- 
 panions to leave, and then retired to some solitary spot 
 to give himself up to meditation on the divine mysteries. 
 
 Everything in those solitudes invited him to raise his 
 
138 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 mind to the Omnipotent — the hills and the valleys, th$^ 
 woods and the meadows. From his^ery door almost 
 he could contemplate a grand panorama, which by its 
 variety and beauty elevated the soul to the consideration 
 of the divine beauties. The beautiful lake of Sarnen,^*bose 
 crystal waters reflected like a mirror the city surrounded 
 by delightful suburbs, contained multitudes of fish that 
 sometimes glided along quietly, and at other times 
 rushed on rapid fins, now rising to the surface, now 
 sinking to the caverns of the deep, or swimming lej/surely 
 through the aquatic plants that abounded in the shallows. 
 OiJ^one hand is the Tiblis and Surenne Alps, whose 
 peaks, covered with eternal snow, are lost in the clouds, 
 and on whose sides are many shepherds’ huts, dark 
 woods, pleasant meadows, numerous flocks, which all 
 contribute to enhance the scenery ; whilst on the other 
 are seen hills and valleys, white villages crowned by 
 the red towers of the churches, rustic chapels, and here 
 and there pious crosses, which silently plead for a prayer 
 for the repose of those who suddenly lost their life there. 
 Wherever the eye turns it discovers new and surprising 
 pictures ; here foaming waterfalls, there purling streams 
 quietly flowing through the long grass, farther on im- 
 petuous torrents carrying with them the trunks of 
 ancient trees, farther still sterile rocks, now smiling 
 plains, and again fearful precipices never visited by the 
 rays of the sun. Such the sights that invited Nicholas 
 to intone a hymn of glory to the Lord, who by His 
 omniponent power drew all from nothingness. 
 
 II. 
 
 His devotion and fervour increased on the approach 
 of any feast of the Blessed Virgin. That day morn 
 scarcely dawned when our youth was out in the fields 
 to seek the sweetest flowers to weave a chaplet to be 
 
BLESSED NICHOLAS DE FLUE. 
 
 139 
 
 placed at Mary’s feet. But this was not the principal 
 offering he made to our Sovereign Lady : after disposing 
 his soul by a fervent confession, he approached the 
 Eucharistic table to receive the Bread of Angels, for 
 which he ever felt a craving desire. Though of a deli- 
 cate constitution, he was moved by reading the examples 
 of the saints, with which he refreshed his mind, and 
 above all of his patron, St. Nicholas, to mortify his body 
 from boyhood by fasting and other penances. Of all 
 his occupations that of shepherd pleased him most, for 
 there in the silence of his* solitude, broken only by the 
 bleating of the sheep, or the soft murmur of the rills, or 
 the chirping of the birds, or the rumbling of the carts, 
 he could, unwitnessed, pour out his heart in the presence 
 of God, and dedicate himself to the divine praise. But 
 you would be quite mistaken if you thought our shepherd 
 was sad, or dull, or melancholy ; for he was gifted with 
 a quiet disposition, a good address, and genial manner, 
 and made himself beloved by all who knew him. Above 
 all he was his parents’ assistance in their toil, the balsam 
 of their pains, their soother in misfortunes, their conso- 
 lation and their joy. 
 
 If he followed his own inclinations, he would at an 
 early age have adopted the contemplative life, renouncing 
 the good matches offered him; but God wished to make 
 him a model of good husbands, and as soon as he knew 
 the Divine Will, manifested through his Christian 
 parents, he sacrificed his own desires of a more perfect 
 life, and bent his neck to the y oke of holy matrimony. 
 In selecting a wife he did not allow himself to be guided 
 by gifts and qualities, which may soon fade, but sought 
 a maiden of Christian habits and elevated views of 
 sanctity. The strong woman, according to the Scrip- 
 ture, is a treasure without price, and it is more easy to 
 find a crowd of vain and presumptuous girls than a 
 prudent, humble, and industrious maiden. But Nicholas 
 
140 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 asked her from the Lord with all the earnestness of his 
 sonl, and the Lord never closes His ears to the prayer of 
 the humble. He was married to a virtuous girl named 
 Dora. And as God was the Author of that union, not 
 contracted at the promptings of passion, or the greed of 
 fleeting riches, so the love they bore each other could 
 not be more intimate, nor lighter the burden of matri- 
 mony. Their house appeared the dwelling-place of 
 peace and the sweetest concord. Their parents’ will 
 also was the will of the newly married — husband and 
 wife, parents and children, all laboured hard to mutually 
 please each other, and promote the spiritual well-being 
 of the family. Hot a loud voice nor disagreeable scold 
 ever disturbed the order of that peaceful dwelling. All 
 followed in the footsteps of Nicholas, the soul of the 
 spiritual exercises they performed in common, the model 
 of assiduity in labour, of charity to the poor, and of the 
 harmony of wdll so conspicuous in all their actions. Let 
 no one imagine, however, that they attained this hap- 
 piness without mortification. They were not angels, 
 but people of flesh and blood like others, and had con- 
 sequently to subject their passions to reason, to look 
 over each other’s defects, and suffer with each other’s 
 weaknesses and ill- humour. Thus, and only thus, by a 
 faithful correspondence to the divine inspirations, can 
 that love be perfectly conceived which closely unites the 
 hearts of a Christian family, and drives away turbu- 
 lence and discord. Then one commands with suavity, 
 whilst another obeys without repugnance : mutual charity 
 is the rule that guides all ; all love each other as they 
 should love : idleness yields to labour, prayer, or some 
 becoming and innocent diversion : the joy of the just 
 is depicted on the countenances of all : free from remorse 
 all live happy with the fruits of peace. Blessed the 
 family which with the aroma of such virtue brings down 
 on it the dew of heaven ! 
 
BLESSED NICHOLAS DE FLUE. 
 
 141 
 
 III. 
 
 Soon did innocent Dora rival her husband in virtue and 
 piety. She joined him whenever she could in his devotions, 
 and she never ceased thanking God for having given her a 
 companion so holy and amiable. And this again en- 
 couraged Nicholas to spread the wings of his heart, and 
 allow himself to be carried away by the breatb of its 
 fervour. He usually rose at midnight and spent a couple 
 of hours treating with God about the affairs of his 
 soul, or buried in contemplation of the divine perfections. 
 Our Lord blessed their union with five sons and five 
 daughters, into all of whom the good father endeavoured 
 to infuse his own sentiments. Man does not live by 
 bread alone ; and though he vegetate and grow on his 
 daily food, if the soul be not sustained by due know- 
 ledge, and the heart nurtured by solid virtues, the more 
 noble part of man becomes enslaved by the vilest and 
 fiercest passions, and the order and plans of the Almighty 
 are perverted. Hence Nicholas fed his children’s under- 
 standing with the Christian doctrine, and their will with 
 edifying examples and counsels, thus transmitting to 
 his posterity his own virtues as a more precious inheri- 
 tance than all the goods of earth. 
 
 When he was about thirty years of age he saw the 
 independence of Switzerland threatened by powerful 
 enemies, who were trying to disturb her repose. When 
 the decision of the Supreme Council of his canton was 
 published, calling all the citizens to arms, Nicholas — 
 though from his sweetness of disposition and piety he 
 regarded bloody combats with horror — flew, nevertheless, 
 to his country’s aid at the first call of the magistrates, 
 and prepared to carry himself like a Christian soldier in 
 the expedition of which he was to form part. He took 
 leave of his beloved wife, giving her prudent counsels 
 for the time of his absence, and in case he should die 
 
142 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 in the struggle. When the day of his departure arrived, 
 after a fervent confession, he approached, with angelical 
 ardour, the sacred table to eat the Bread of the strong, 
 the support of the traveller and the shield of the valiant. 
 Piety does not smother true military ardour, but en- 
 nobles and increases it. When the two rival armies came 
 face to face, they hastened to give the decisive battle. 
 The army of Eschwitz and Glaris, commanded by Ital 
 Reding, was encamped on Mount Etzel ; that of Zurich 
 was before Pfeffiken. The encounter was terrible : the 
 cannons vomited out death ; the small arms, enveloped 
 in smoke, spread desolation ; and in the midst of the 
 fearful carnage and the cries of the wounded, no sooner 
 was the attack sounded than the enemies closed in a 
 hand-to-hand contest, in which with swords and knives 
 they killed or were killed, till at last victory declared 
 in favour of justice. You would think the destroying 
 angel had descended to destroy the army of Zurich, 
 such was the terror and consternation which pervaded 
 its ranks. Pressed on every side, they hastened to the 
 mountains and woods, leaving none but their dead, 
 dying, and prisoners on the field of battle. The bravery 
 and daring of our hero contributed not a little to the 
 favourable result of the battle, as did also his encourag- 
 ing words, which electrified the valiant ; but whilst all 
 were loud in his praises, he only wondered that they 
 should commend him for acting the part of a good 
 citizen. 
 
 In 1446, he joined another expedition against the 
 Austrians, in which a body of one thousand two hundred 
 Swiss completely routed an army of six thousand of the 
 enemy. After these brilliant expeditions, in which the 
 Lord seemed to have engaged him, that he might restrain 
 the licence and disorders of his comrades, he returned 
 to his domestic hearth to fill his family with consola- 
 tion as he had the enemy with terror. He continued his 
 
BLESSED NICHOLAS DE FLUE. 
 
 143 
 
 pious practices with renewed fervour, which the rude 
 clash of arms could not make him abandon, and again 
 dedicated himself to the education of his children. 
 
 IY. 
 
 He taught them to be sober and temperate, and content 
 with the productions of nature, without hunting for 
 delicacies* Reared up in frugality from their tenderest 
 years, the instructions of their zealous father made a 
 deep impression on them. He tried to infuse into them 
 a profound horror of every sin, but particularly of the 
 vice of intemperance, the hateful mother of infinite dis- 
 orders. On Sundays he permitted only the purely 
 necessary labours, and made all in his house sanctify 
 them like good Christians. When he returned from 
 Mass he collected his family in a convenient place, and 
 read for them passages from Scripture or the Lives of 
 the Saints, adding some reflections of his own to impress 
 them on the willing minds of his audience, and attach 
 them to all kinds of virtue. He accommodated himself 
 to the capacity of all, and warned them against the 
 seductions of the world, whilst inspiring them with a 
 contempt of all perishing things. “ Ah, my children ! ” 
 he used to say to them, “ what does it avail a man to 
 gain the whole world if he lose his own soul ? Let us 
 save the soul, and all is well.” His heroic example, his 
 liberality to the needy, his mortification, gave great 
 weight and efficacy to his paternal admonitions and 
 advice. His great anxiety was to fill his family with an 
 ardent love of Grod and their neighbour, founded on the 
 exact compliance with the divine commandments. What 
 made all love and respect Nicholas was his unalterable 
 calm and tranquillity in the midst of contradictions, and 
 the facility with which he pardoned his enemies, com- 
 pletely forgetting the injuries done him. In correcting 
 
144 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 the faults of his children he never allowed himself to he 
 carried away by angry passion, which is a greater defect 
 in some parents than the one they intended to correct. 
 When it was necessary to use certain severity for the 
 correction of the culprit, our hero knew how to temper 
 it with such suavity and sweetness that rarely did he 
 fail to attain his noble object. Meakness accompanied 
 him in all places and in all circumstances. Hence, when- 
 ever his children answered to his desires, he encouraged 
 them with rewards, thus avoiding the necessity of ap- 
 pealing to severe measures : but whether by one means 
 or the other he never allowed an opportunity to escape 
 of confirming them in good, and withdrawing them from 
 the dangers of the world. His hopes and assiduous 
 prayers for the good education of his family were 
 crowned by the most filial correspondence. Together 
 they said the Rosary, together they accompanied their 
 father to frequent confession, together they went to the 
 devotions in the church, together they took their amuse- 
 ment and recreation. 
 
 Y. 
 
 Twelve years had passed since the last campaign of 
 the servant of God, when new dissentions sprung up 
 between Austria and the Swiss cantons. Segismund, 
 excommunicated by Pius II., had aroused the confede- 
 rates against him, and all prepared for a new struggle. 
 Nicholas, already famous for his military ardour, was 
 called by the government of his canton, and appointed 
 commandant of a company of one hundred men. Placed 
 at the head of this handful of brave fellows, he gave, as 
 on other occasions, proof of magnanimous daring and 
 deep piety. Like an angel of peace in the midst of the 
 furies of war, he repressed the licence of the soldiery, 
 
BLESSED NICHOLAS DE FLUE. 
 
 145 
 
 and became the guardian of the innocent and unpro- 
 tected. “ Share your bread with the widow,” he would 
 say to his comrades; “cover the orphan with your 
 cloak ; employ your sword in defence of the weak ; steal 
 not so much as a pin ; respect the sanctuary of the Most 
 High.” 
 
 In Diessenhofen, a village of Thurgovia, situated on 
 the banks of the Rhine, there was a convent of nuns, 
 called the Convent of the Valley of St. Catherine. There 
 several companies of the enemy had fortified themselves. 
 The Swiss, breathing vengeance, and anxious to put an 
 end to them, had their torches lit to set fire to the asylum 
 of their adversaries. Fortunately or unfortunately, 
 Nicholas’ company was ordered to execute this project, 
 favoured by the darkness of the night. The Christian 
 soldier shuddered at the sole thought of being selected 
 to burn the temple of the Lord, and violate the retire- 
 ment of the innocent virgins, exposed to fall into the 
 hands of a mad soldiery ; and with his eyes bathed in 
 tears, he prostrated himself at the foot of a crucifix in 
 sight of his men, and prayed the Lord to touch the heart 
 of the generals, and make them desist from their inten- 
 tion. After a short but fervent supplication he arose, 
 and went to speak to the heads of the expedition. “ Con- 
 federates,” he said to them in full assembly, “ you have 
 left your homes to attack an unjust enemy, and defend 
 your liberty. The justice of our cause is the support of 
 our arms in combat, as it will be our guarantee after 
 victory. Take care, then, not to stain it by excesses as 
 unworthy as useless. Think you that war is sufficient 
 motive to rashly place your hands on the sanctuary of 
 the living God, to give to the flames the dwelling of the 
 Holy of Holies ? I do not believe it, and I am certain that 
 by doing so you will only provoke the divine wrath, 
 and oblige the Lord to snatch the palm of victory from 
 your hands. And for what purpose ? To root out a 
 
 10 
 
146 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 handful of cowards, whom, you may rest assured, hunger 
 will put to flight. Do not, then, allow the shouts of 
 death and extermination to he heard under the roof, 
 which up to this has only echoed the praises of the Om- 
 nipotent. Do not compel those poor virgins to drain 
 the chalice of bitterness to the dregs. Is it not misfor- 
 tune enough for them to have been obliged in their 
 impotence to open their gates to the enemy ? Let the 
 latter alone pay the penalty of their impiety ; let us not 
 make ourselves accomplices of their crime. Yes ; save 
 that edifice which will stand as a monument of your 
 moderation and your valour.” Then he ceased, and cast 
 an inquiring look on his hearers, who had listened to 
 him with attention and respect. The result was all he 
 desired. The convent was besieged, and the Austrians, 
 finding themselves doomed, capitulated. Nicholas, avail- 
 ing himself of his success and the reputation it gained 
 him, reproved the confederates for the extreme facility 
 with which they permitted the ruin of houses conse- 
 crated to God, and threatened them with the divine 
 vengeance, if, as happened on other occasions, they 
 coolly allowed rash young men to carry fire and sword 
 into the temples, to profane the Adorable Sacrament of 
 the Altar, and turn the churches into stables. The com- 
 plaints of the valiant soldier induced the generals of the 
 army to take steps to prevent like disorders. 
 
 Nicholas continued to give proofs of incomparable 
 daring, which, together with his prudence and gene- 
 rosity, merited for him a gold medal, struck in testimony 
 of his greatness of soul. This is how Christians defend 
 their outraged religion and their offended country. 
 When returning to the bosom of his family, after the 
 glorious end of the campaign, he distributed on his way 
 all the alms he could, without distinction of friends or 
 foes. Indescribable was the consolation of his wife and 
 children when, gathered around him after so many 
 
 
BLESSED NICHOLAS DE FLUE. 
 
 147 
 
 dangers, they heard from his lips the favours he had re- 
 ceived from heaven in the midst of the tnmnlts of war, 
 the risks he had run of his life, and the bloody en- 
 counters he had had with the enemy. “ God grant,” 
 said they all, “ you may never have to leave us again in 
 the sad orphanage in which we have lived ! ” 
 
 YI. 
 
 Our grazier was scarcely well at home, and rested 
 from the fatigues of war, when he was designated by 
 the public voice Landamman, or Governor of the Can- 
 ton of Unterwalden. The Council confirmed the vote 
 of his fellow-citizens, and sent a commission to the ser- 
 vant of God to put in his hands the reins of public 
 affairs. But Nicholas, in whose eyes public charges 
 were nothing but real burdens, on one hand, looking be- 
 neath the veil which gives to dignities a seductive bril- 
 liancy, and prevents one from seeing the terrible account 
 which earthly judges shall have to render to the Su- 
 i preme Judge ; and considering, on the other, the facility 
 with which those who occupy elevated positions allow 
 themselves to be conquered by interest, hurried on by 
 envy, suborned by recommendations, seduced by flattery, 
 humbly and modestly refused the dignity and honour 
 offered him. Forced, however, in spite of himself to 
 discharge the functions of judge of the district, he 
 always acted with supreme integrity and justice. His 
 rectitude and clearness prevented the litigants from 
 appealing from his decisions. When any quarrel or 
 dispute arose, he called the parties together, and, seated 
 > among them, heard the reasons pro and con, and then 
 j gave his judgment. Soon was his house converted into 
 r the refuge of the oppressed : from all quarters they 
 d flocked to consult him on thorny questions, and his sen 
 y| fences were looked on as those of an oracle. His impar- 
 
148 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 tiality and justice were such, that when talking one day 
 to his good friend Henry, parish priest of Estanz, he was 
 able to exclaim: “Blessed be God, who gaye me a 
 spirit of rectitude ! In all the affairs of my country in 
 which I have been consulted, in all the decisions I have 
 given during my life, I do not remember overlooking 
 law and justice. On all occasions, after imploring the 
 lights of the Holy Ghost, I listened to the voice of con- 
 science, and without regarding the dress of accuser or 
 accused, decided the case.” How well the world would 
 go on if all judges and governors had an equal fear of 
 God! 
 
 The servant of God was now fifty years of age, when 
 he thought he was no longer necessary to his fellow-men 
 or his family, and his old desires of a solitary Ufe began 
 to spring up in his heart. Nicholas was accustomed to 
 make frequent pilgrimages to Our Lady of the Her- 
 mitage. There, when he considered the virtues, the 
 self-denial, and abnegation of the Benedictine religious 
 who occupied that sanctuary; when he reflected that 
 day and night they were engaged in singing the praises 
 of the Most High, he felt himself inflamed with a holy 
 envy and with ardent desires to go and live hidden in the 
 desert. He had gradually prepared his family, who for 
 some time had with a certain fear foreseen such a deter- 
 mination. God, on His part, was impelling him to fly 
 from the world and to hide himself in sohtude. 
 
 VII. 
 
 When visiting his flock one day, he retired as usual 
 and knelt down in prayer. In a short time he lost his 
 senses, and, carried away in spirit, he thought he saw a 
 fragrant lily, fresh as the dew of morning, white as the 
 driven snow, which, coming out of his mouth, grew till 
 it was lost in the heavens. Whilst enjoying the per- 
 
BLESSED NICHOLAS DE FLUE. 
 
 149 
 
 fume and beauty of this portentous flower, there came a 
 blast of wind, which bent it and caused it to fall into the 
 mouth of one of the horses which were grazing about. 
 From this vision Nicholas understood how small is the 
 security of virtue in the midst of the many dangers which 
 surround us, like animals ready to devour it. Man is a 
 flower which is withered by the slightest breath, 
 which appears to-day in all its beauty and to-morrow 
 is turned into dust. Only the watering of prayer and 
 mortification can preserve its freshness some instants 
 longer. And where, he said to himself, where better 
 than in the desert can I dedicate myself to prayer and 
 fasting ? 
 
 On another occasion, when he was meditating in 
 solitude, he heard a charming voice which came from 
 the desert. He looked and saw in the distance a man 
 with a beautiful countenance, venerable in his gray 
 hair, who appeared to approach him with grave step. 
 At first he heard only one voice, and then three, and he 
 was almost beside himself. When the person with the 
 three mysterious voices met Nicholas, he ceased singing, 
 and, uncovering his head, on his knees asked him for an 
 alms for the love of God. Our shepherd, who could 
 never dismiss the poor empty, took out his purse and 
 gave him what he asked. The venerable old man 
 thanked him for his liberality, and vanished from his 
 sight, leaving the charitable servant of God full of in- 
 effable sweetness. Then he went on his knees to thank 
 the Lord for that favour, realising how suited was a re- 
 tired life to treat with God and receive His divine 
 graces. 
 
 One day, when engaged at his domestic duties, he met 
 three men, who resembled each other very much, of 
 majestic aspect, whose manners and discourse breathed 
 nothing but sanctity. One of them said to him : 
 
 : “ Tell us, Nicholas, will you subject yourself to 
 
150 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 our power and direction ? ” “I surrender myself,” an- 
 swered tlie saint, “ to no one but my God. The world 
 is dead to me, and I despise its mad vanities.” At 
 these words the strangers looked at each other with 
 joyful countenances, and the first added, smiling : “ Re- 
 main, then, constant in your good resolutions, and know 
 that at seventy years of age your soul, freed from the 
 bonds of this corruptible body, will fly to receive the 
 crown of glory. Great struggles await you, great 
 labours and disappointments. Fight like the valiant 
 man you are, for the sufferings of the cross will be fol- 
 lowed by the glory of triumph.” On saying this they 
 disappeared, leaving Nicholas inundated with joy, and 
 resolved to carry out his plans of solitude and retire- 
 ment. In proportion as the divine illuminations in- 
 creased, the devil redoubled his efforts to detain him at 
 least in the w'orld. He raised up great obstacles ; he 
 tried to overpower him with rude combats, and left no 
 stone unturned to dishearten the servant of God. “ Why 
 this life so austere ? ” he said : “ why those continual 
 privations and penances ? Is man condemned to drag 
 out so melancholy a life that he cannot enjoy even inno- 
 cent pleasures P ” Guided by his good angel, the saint 
 silenced the enemy’s battery, and prepared to put his 
 designs in execution as soon as possible. Having ob- 
 tained the permission of his director, who could no longer 
 doubt of the Divine Will in his penitent’s vocation, he 
 only now required the consent of his wife. 
 
 yin. 
 
 One day, after receiving Communion with extraordi- 
 nary fervour, he called her and said : “ My beloved 
 Dora, there is a great weight on my heart, and you 
 alone can remove it. Have you strength to do so ? ” A 
 deep and involuntary sigh escaped from that loving 
 
BLESSED NICHOLAS DE FLUE. 
 
 151 
 
 breast, and it was only then he knew the strength of the 
 bonds he was trying to break. Dora, penetrating the 
 eloquent looks of her husband, sweetly answered : 
 “ Whence comes this want of confidence ? Is it not I 
 who have always helped you to bear your sufferings and 
 mitigated your griefs ? ” Tears choked her utterance, 
 and Nicholas, in order to console her, said : “ Yes ; I 
 should be very unjust if I did not acknowledge your 
 care, which God alone can worthily recompense. Since 
 your foot crossed my threshold, God has not ceased to 
 bless us, nor have you failed to give me the most un- 
 equivocal proof s of sincerest love. Not content with divid- 
 ing with me the pains and crosses of this exile, you have 
 often devised means to bear the whole weight yourself. 
 If our children are our consolation, to what is it due but 
 the Christian education you gave them ? Thank God, 
 they need me no longer, and you alone can be their 
 guardian angel and their guide. As for me, my dear, 
 God calls me to solitude ; your permission alone is want- 
 ing, that I may abandon this deceitful world and give 
 myself entirely to God.” Dora, tremulous with grief, 
 threw herself at his feet, bathed in a sea of tears, and 
 in broken sobs said: “And is it thus you would repay 
 my affection ? For God’s sake, I beseech you never to 
 desert me.” The tears of husband and wife were 
 mingled, and neither was able to utter a word. At last, 
 when they recovered from their grief, Dora yielded to 
 the powerful reasons of Nicholas, and offered to God the 
 sacrifice of what she most loved in the world. Rude 
 combats he had also to sustain with his old parents, his 
 children, and his neighbours, who loved him as a brother, 
 but his firmness triumphed over all. Having arranged 
 his affairs, and made his will, the Monday appointed for 
 his farewell arrived. 
 
 On that morning he rose early, and went to hear 
 Mass and receive Holy Communion with his children 
 
152 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 his wife, and some friends. That morning appeared a 
 day of mourning to the whole village ; hut heaven cele- 
 brated with feasts of joy one of the greatest victories of 
 grace over nature. When all were again in the house 
 Nicholas appeared before them, with head and feet bare, 
 dressed in kersey like a pilgrim, a rough stick and the 
 rosary beads in his hand. He asked pardon of all for 
 his faults, he tenderly recommended them to the holy 
 fear of God, and the faithful observance of His com- 
 mandments, and after embracing them and giving them 
 his benediction, he set out, free from the fetters which 
 hitherto had bound him. He bore witness several times 
 that that parting was very painful to him, and that a 
 special grace of God alone enabled him to tear himself 
 away from the love of his wife and children. The grief 
 in which the whole family were buried can only be con- 
 ceived by a heart as tender and loving as their own. 
 
 IX. 
 
 The servant of God went in search of some solitude 
 accompanied only by his augel guardian, without know- 
 ing exactly whither. His plan was to leave Switzerland, 
 that he might live completely unknown to men. He 
 directed his steps to Basil, reciting the Holy Rosary and 
 other prayers, and devoutly visiting the churches he 
 met on his way. He passed the first day without food, 
 and resting at night under a tree, he remained there till 
 sleep closed his eyes. The following day he continued his 
 march, and after traversing the fertile valleys of his 
 country, he came to the heights of Hanestein. Here, 
 seated on a rock, he fell asleep, and in a dream he 
 thought he saw the little town of Liestall on fire. 
 He awoke in a fright, and looking round saw a farmer 
 near him. He fell into conversation with him, and 
 moved by an interior impulse, explained to him his 
 
BLESSED NICHOLAS DE FLUE. 
 
 153 
 
 views, and asked him to show him some retired place 
 where he could carry them out. The farmer was a 
 God-fearing man ; he admired and praised his project, 
 but advised him to return to his own country, where he 
 should find deserts enough in which to live retired and 
 tranquil without running the risk of being taken for a 
 vagabond and culprit, as was very possible in a strange 
 place considering the disturbed state of the times. The 
 devout pilgrim, after thanking the farmer for his good 
 counsel, affectionately shook hands with him, and tak- 
 
 I ing his advice as coming from heaven, returned towards 
 his own canton. The night was serene, and praying at 
 the foot of an oak, he asked the Lord to manifest His 
 holy will with regard to the place in which he should 
 fix his dwelling. At first he passed a delicious night, 
 inundated with heavenly sweetness, but soon the devil, 
 jealous of the felicity of the new hermit, attacked him, 
 though all in vain, with sad reflections. When he closed 
 his eyes, overcome by sleep, he thought he was sur- 
 rounded by a brilliant light, and that they were drawing 
 him by force to his own country, and at the same time 
 he felt his interior attacked by an intense pain, as if he 
 had been transfixed by a sword. From that time 
 Nicholas never felt the necessity of food, and during 
 the twenty years following he neither ate nor drank, nor 
 tasted anything but the Holy Eucharist. This miracle, 
 subjected during the lifetime of the beatified to a scru- 
 
 I pulous examination, is admitted as indubitable even by 
 Protestant historians like Muller. In memory of this 
 vision and event a chapel was afterwards built on the 
 spot. 
 
 The following day our hermit continued his march, and 
 rested not till he reached Melcthal, his own country. As 
 he had made a vow of poverty, he hid himself from his 
 , acquaintances that he might live apart from the whole 
 world and its goods, and he selected for his retreat one 
 
154 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 of his former possessions, called Kluster. Here, in the 
 midst of briers and thorns, Nicholas built for himself a 
 little hut of branches. Eight days he had passed in this 
 solitude without eating or drinking, occupied solely in 
 the contemplation of divine truths, when he was dis- 
 covered by some hunters who were in pursuit of a deer. 
 They withdrew, however, in silence, but determined to 
 report the matter to his family. Peter Deflue, his 
 brother, on hearing it, immediately set out in search of 
 him. The sight of his penitent brother, emaciated now 
 by his continual abstinence, caused him a certain horror 
 mingled with compassion. He made great efforts to 
 take him home, but when he could gain nothing he be- 
 sought him not to die of starvation. Nicholas told him 
 to have no fear, for God was preserving his life ; so that 
 he had now passed eleven days without tasting anything 
 and without feeling hunger or thirst. When leaving 
 he asked him to send him a confessor, that he might 
 open his conscience to him. 
 
 X. 
 
 Oswald Isner, the zealous parish priest of Kerns, 
 went to him, and he left an account of his visit in the 
 parish book of 1488. “Nicholas,” he says, “sent for 
 me to ask whether he should continue his rigorous fast. 
 He was nothing but skin and bone, and you could see 
 the light through his cheeks. Convinced that it was a 
 miracle, I told him he might continue as long as he could 
 without danger of death. As I was fond of the hermit, 
 and he of me, I asked him one day, very earnestly, how 
 he could live without eating. He told me as a secret 
 that when he attended Mass, and the priest communi- 
 cated, he received from the Communion, or the desire of 
 receiving it, such grace that his strength was renewed 
 
BLESSED NICHOLAS DE FLUE. 
 
 155 
 
 without any need of eating or drinking. * And what is 
 there strange in this ?’ said the servant of God. ‘ Do I 
 not in the Eucharist receive Jesus Christ, the Author of 
 life, the Creator of heaven and earth ? ’ So that he 
 could say with the apostle: ‘ I live, not I, but Jesus 
 Christ lives in me.’ ” 
 
 When the rumour of a life so miraculous spread, he 
 soon was the object of visits from his friends, his family, 
 and many others, who came to see the man of God 
 and be edified by the perfume of his heroic virtues The 
 concourse of those who went to see and to consult him 
 became so great that his silence and retirement were 
 disturbed, and he was forced to seek another asylum 
 more isolated and less accessible to men. After ex- 
 amining several solitary places, he saw four brilliant 
 rays of light descend from heaven on a dark ravine, by 
 which the roaring and foaming Melk hurried on its 
 course. “There,” he said, “does the Lord wish me to 
 pitch my tent.” No sooner said than done. He built a 
 hut, surrounded by thick brushwood, and continued his 
 retirement in almost constant prayer. This place was 
 only a quarter of a league from his house, for whose 
 inhabitants he daily prayed to God. There he was also 
 discovered, and his children built him a chapel and a 
 little room, that their beloved father might have some 
 comfort. Joyful and tranquil he lived in his cell, pray- 
 ing daily to the Queen of Angels, whose image he vene- 
 rated in his oratory. He never left his retirement 
 except on Sundays and festival days, when he went to 
 the parish church of Laxlen. He also left it sometimes 
 in the year to gain the indulgences granted to certain 
 sanctuaries celebrated in the diocese of Lucerne. His 
 family, anxious to procure for the devout hermit the 
 consolation of hearing Mass in his own oratory, at least 
 on Sundays and festival days, that he might not have 
 to descend to the valley during the long and rigorous 
 
156 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 winters of that country, asked and obtained this favour 
 from the bishop of Constance, Herman de Landerbeg. 
 
 In the meantime his supernatural and extraordinary 
 life became known through all the cantons, and even 
 passed their frontiers. Diverse were the opinions on 
 this point. In the eyes of pious and simple people 
 Nicholas was another Baptist, who came to preach 
 penance by his example. In the opinion of the un- 
 believers the hermit was an impostor and a hypocrite, 
 who tried to purchase the title of Saint by his apparent 
 abstinence : each judged the miracle according to the 
 affections of his heart. The ecclesiastical authority, in 
 view of these opposing opinions, thought it right to 
 solemnly examine the fact, either to prove or disprove 
 it. With the sanction of the civil authority of the can- 
 ton of Unterwald, they determined to plant sentinels 
 on all the approaches, so that no one could go to the 
 hermit’s dwelling without being seen. They selected 
 for the purpose men of known probity, and after a 
 month of careful watching these testified on oath, that 
 no one carried him the least food. The bishop of Con- 
 stance employed another artifice to satisfy himself still 
 more of the miracle. With the excuse of consecrating 
 the little chapel, he sent his suffragan, the Bishop of 
 Ascalon, to examine the matter personally. The pre- 
 late put several difficult questions to him, which Nicho- 
 las answered with a precision worthy of a profound 
 theologian. Among other things he asked him what 
 was the first virtue of a Christian. “ Holy obedience,” 
 answered the saint. “ Well, then,” replied the bishop, 
 “ here is a piece of bread and a little wine : in virtue of 
 this holy obedience I command you to eat and drink in 
 my presence.” “ I do not refuse,” answered the peni- 
 tent ; “ but I beseech you to pardon me unless you wish 
 to subject me to terrible sufferings.” The prelate in- 
 sisted, and the servant of God obeyed submissively ; but 
 
BLESSED NICHOLAS DE FLUE. 
 
 357 
 
 lie had scarcely tasted a mouthful of bread, when he 
 felt such a pain in his stomach that they thought he was 
 going to die in their hands. The bishop, annoyed at 
 being the cause, recommended himself to the prayers of 
 the good hermit, and left him in peace. Before leaving* 
 he made a present to the solitary of two candlesticks 
 and a sum of money. Nicholas sent the candlesticks to 
 the parish church, and spent the money on ornaments 
 for his oratory. The Emperor Segismund of Austria, 
 sent his own doctor, the learned Buckard de Hornek, 
 and after an examination extending over several days, 
 he also confessed himself conquered. Frederick III., 
 Emperor of Germany, had also to bow his diadem before 
 the divine power manifested in the solitary. When 
 they asked him how could it be, pointing to heaven he 
 answered : “ Look up, there is the God who knows.” 
 These facts are found in contemporary writings, which 
 are preserved in the archives of Saxlen, and are sup- 
 ported by all the documents required by the most strict 
 criticism. 
 
 XI. 
 
 When Nicholas triumphed over his detractors, what he 
 thought of least was his victory, desiring only that God 
 should be glorified and loved by all. Completely forget- 
 ful of the world, his only ambition was the sanctifica- 
 tion of his soul and the eternal salvation of his brethren. 
 At last the unbloody sacrifice of the Mass was celebrated 
 in his oratory, for which he had received great gifts and 
 precious ornaments from kings and nobles. It is im- 
 possible to describe the fervour with which he attended, 
 the august ceremony. Transported in spirit to Calvary, 
 he thought he saw the Saviour expiring on the cross for 
 the salvation of the world. He could have wished the 
 Holy Sacrifice to last longer, that he might reflect at 
 
158 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 leisure on the torments of Jesns and keep Him company- 
 in His agony. He received Communion three times a 
 month, which was remarkable at that time when the re- 
 ception of the sacraments was rare; but if he were 
 guided by the hunger he had for the Eucharistic Bread, 
 he would have allowed no day to pass without approach- 
 ing the sacred table. The life he led was like that of 
 the ancient anchorets of Egypt. From midnight to 
 Mass he spent in humble contemplation of the divine 
 mysteries ; from Mass to mid-day he recited his devo- 
 tions ; and afterwards he gave audience to those who 
 came to consult him. He then took a walk before his 
 cell, and at sunset he returned to his prayers and medi- 
 tation till well on in the night, when he took a short 
 rest on the hard ground. 
 
 By his admirable example of all virtues he edified 
 those simple peasants, whom he served as oracle, just 
 judge and tender father. How no one went to Our 
 Lady of the Hermitage without paying a visit to Nicholas 
 to ask for advice in their doubts, and seek consolation 
 in their troubles. Long after did those Swiss talk 
 of the maxims and exhortations of the holy Hermit. 
 To a mother who fretted over her numerous offspring, 
 he said : “ Bless God, my sister, for a hearth without 
 children is a sky without stars.” To a man who envied 
 his tranquillity and retirement, he answered : “ The road 
 of the desert is not the only one that leads to heaven. 
 Fear and serve God and you shall enjoy peace.” He 
 exhorted all his compatriots with prophetic spirit to 
 never become renegades to their religion, bewailing 
 beforehand the evils which Protestantism was to bring 
 on his country. “ Preserve the faith of your fathers,” 
 he said to them ; “ cling fast to your mother, the Catholic 
 Church, the firm foundation of all true happiness. 
 Great tempests are gathering; be ready to meet them.” 
 And, in fact, Charles the Bold, a little after, threatened 
 
BLESSED NICHOLAS DE FLUE. 
 
 159 
 
 the peace of Switzerland. In the first encounter the 
 confederates were beaten : but gathering new courage 
 from their defeat, they returned to the combat, and 
 conquered the army of Burgundy, taking rich booty. 
 The solitary in the meantime was praying for the pros- 
 perity of his country. 
 
 Charles, exasperated at seeing his banners trampled on, 
 renews the contest with fresh reinforcements, assured of 
 victory. Numerous vehicles follow him laden with ropes 
 to tie the vanquished. At the voice of their priests the 
 Swiss run to stem the common danger. At the mo- 
 ment when the peaks of the Alps were about re-echoing 
 the fearful shout of attack, the clouds which obscured 
 the heavens burst open, and the sun inundated the 
 enemy’s camps with his rays. “ Dear confederates,” 
 exclaimed Hallwyl, “the lamp of the God of goodness 
 comes to illumine us. At them ! ” The battle began 
 on the 22nd of June, 1476. They attacked each other 
 like lions, but at nightfall the army of Charles no longer 
 existed. At that moment a brave youth reaches Fri- 
 burg, worn out with fatigue, to announce the glorious 
 news, and falls dead murmuring, “Victory!” The 
 Lord had heard the prayer of His servant for the success 
 of his fellow- citizens. 
 
 XII. 
 
 A few years after, in 1481, the parish priest of Estanz, 
 after earnest prayer, arose, and taking his stick, said : 
 “ I will go and see the good solitary.” It was scarcely 
 day when he knocked at the hermit’s door, and found 
 his friend at prayer. After the usual greetings, the 
 priest sat down on a bench, and said : “ Brother, a 
 great danger at this moment threatens Switzerland. 
 What the Bold’s sword could not accomplish, has been 
 done by the prosperity and gold acquired on the field of 
 
160 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 battle. Sleeping on their laurels, our people have 
 become slaves to effeminacy and discord. To-morrow 
 the confederates will meet at Estanz, and if God did 
 not say it, Swiss blood will flow in torrents. Brother, 
 time urges : you must be the angel of peace by speak- 
 ing to the assembly : my heart assures me your voice 
 will be heard.” “ Yes, I will go,” said Nicholas, “ tell 
 them I wish to speak to them.” They met as arranged ; 
 and whilst the zealous priest was going from lodging to 
 lodging, where the deputies were emptying numerous 
 tumblers of foaming ale, Nicholas, with the haste his 
 years permitted, was traversing the great street of Estanz 
 barefooted, with his head bare, a stick in one hand and his 
 beads in the other, and his beard covered with frozen 
 dew. He walked along with recollected gait, saluting 
 on either side the neighbours who thronged at doors and 
 windows to see the saint. In a moment the news of the 
 hermit’s arrival spread. The assembly-room was full of 
 the confederate deputies, when the priest presented him- 
 self, and overcome with joy, cried out : “ Brother Claus !” 
 Just then Nicholas was mounting the stairs, assisted by 
 two Swiss. On the entrance of the venerable man, they 
 all rose up, and respectfully bowed to him when passing. 
 Joy and anxiety were depicted on those countenances, some 
 of which bore scars received in defence of their country. 
 
 After a short murmur, the indication of the satisfac- 
 tion all derived from the presence of the solitary, they 
 subsided into respectful silence. “ Beloved brethren,” 
 then began Nicholas, “ God be with you. I come on 
 the wings of charity, which, I hope, may inspire you all. 
 Tranquil was I in my solitude praying for my beloved 
 country, when the worthy priest of Estanz, with tears 
 in his eyes, come to entreat me to speak to you words, 
 of peace and concord. My friends, and at what a time 
 you are divided ! The v Lord has just given you the 
 laurel of victory, and you wish to strip it of its leaves ! 
 
BLESSED NICHOLAS DE FLUE. 
 
 161 
 
 
 
 
 ¡i 
 
 e 
 
 .« 
 
 il 
 
 Remember that solemn moment when, prostrated all on 
 the field of battle, yon fervently implored the aid of the 
 God of armies; and the sun bursting through the 
 clouds, came to illumine your triumph. God’s be the 
 glory, and yours the reward and the fruits. But the 
 fruits of victory are peace and order, which you con- 
 found with your rich spoils, the dire cause of discord. 
 What do you want to do ? Do you want to destroy the 
 tree of fife that you may contend for the fruits of the 
 tree of death ? Is this your gratitude to the Lord for the 
 victories won in Grandson, Morad, and Nancy ? Poor 
 but united, you will be the terror of your enemies ; rich, 
 but divided, you will be nothing but the ruin of your 
 country. Be, then, what you were there — one soul and 
 one flag against the common enemy. Now your enemy 
 is discord. Have but one heart, and you will be strong ; 
 and God will bless you. No ; I shall not leave Estanz 
 till I see you give each other the kiss of peace and re- 
 conciliation, and shake hands like honest Swiss. May 
 God bless you a thousand times ! May He bless your 
 towns, and your country, and your families ! Peace, my 
 friends, peace and concord, in the name of the God of 
 peace ! ” The hermit had scarcely concluded, when 
 the deputies, instinctively rising, threw themselves into 
 each others’ arms, and affectionately shook hands, amid 
 tears and sobs, which smothered their voices. Then 
 they all cried out at once : “ Long live brother Claus ! ” 
 “ Live Jesus and His holy name ! ” answered Nicholas ; 
 and in the midst of a complete ovation he returned to 
 his beloved hermitage. 
 
 Thus do men of retired life sacrifice their solitude, 
 when the good of their brethren demands it. For his 
 neighbour’s good, Anthony abandoned the desert, and 
 Catherine the retirement of the cloister. All con- 
 templatives, not content with lifting their pure hands 
 night and day to the God of mercies, to detain the shafts 
 
 11 
 
 
162 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 of His vengeance, and bring down a sbower of benedic- 
 tions on tbe people, have in all times come ont from 
 their retreat to instruct the ignorant, to aid the weak, 
 to die in consoling the sick abandoned by their nearest 
 and dearest. And is there a man to raise a cry against 
 those benefactors of humanity P — to persecute them in 
 their very homes, the dwellings of peace and benediction ? 
 Ay, those madmen do it, who pretend to regenerate 
 society by immorality, robbery, anarchy, and libertinism 
 — those miserable conspirators, who plot to bring into 
 play their subversive and infernal plans, forged in the 
 dark caves of abomination and error. May God enlighten 
 them, and show them in the life of our hermit a practical 
 proof of the falsity of their vain utopias ! May God 
 bring them into the fold, the only home of true 
 prosperity ! 
 
 XIII. 
 
 When the news of the peace, secured by the saint’s 
 zeal, was spread, all the cantons and towns of Switzer- 
 land sent commissioners to assure the solitary of their 
 gratitude for the service rendered his country. The 
 good Nicholas • received them all with his own peculiar 
 charity and modesty, and humbly acknowledged their 
 compliments. To those who brought him some recom- 
 pense, he said that he was more than repaid in the peace 
 of the cantons. With this victory of charity the num- 
 ber of the pious man’s visitors increased, and he 
 received them all with amiability and sweetness, giving 
 to each the advice most suited for the salvation of his 
 soul. He only denied audience to those who came to 
 disturb his repose through vain curiosity, or to try him 
 like hypocritical pharisees. He was gifted with the 
 power of penetrating spirits and reading the future, and 
 used it whenever he thought it conducive to the greater 
 glory of God. 
 
BLESSED NICHOLAS DE FLUE. 
 
 163 
 
 One day there came to him a man who had lived a 
 long time in adultery. Nicholas answered all his ques- 
 tions with great charity, and gradually drew round the 
 conversation to the wounds which had occasioned in him 
 the death of grace. The stranger was alarmed at hear- 
 ing from the hermit’s mouth the secrets known only to 
 himself and his accomplice ; but opening his ears to the 
 charitable warnings of the Solitary, he saw the abyss 
 of eternal perdition open at his feet, and bewailed his 
 crimes with tears of true repentance. 
 
 Another day a young lady came to him dressed with 
 unmeaning luxury. Nicholas, who deeply loved poverty 
 and hated such vanities, said to her: “ What are those 
 sumptuous adornments for, and that dress purchased in 
 a foreign land ? Do you think to thus escape death or 
 open to yourself the gates of heaven ? Better you should 
 save for the poor and the numerous family God will give 
 you. But your children will upset your vanity ; and 
 you will not bring to mind this friendly advice given you 
 by a poor solitary till, with a torch in your hand, you go 
 out to separate them when they come to blows.” And 
 in fact she soon forgot the salutary words of the hermit. 
 She had eleven sons, who were the plague of her life ; 
 and one day, when they came to blows, she was alarmed 
 by the shouts of the bystanders, and, knowing not what 
 to do, she snatched up a piece of burning wood and ran 
 between them to separate them. On seeing her the un- 
 natural sons desisted, and the mother, remembering then 
 the prophecy of Nicholas, raised her eyes to heaven, and, 
 turning to her children with a sigh, tearfully related what 
 occurred. Then the good brothers embraced, and re- 
 nounced their discords for ever. 
 
 When the deputies of Berne were going to the Diet 
 of Estanz, they visited our solitary, to spend a while 
 with the oracle of the country. The saint as ever ex- 
 horted them to the fear of God and the fulfilment of the 
 
164 
 
 LIGHT FKOM THE LOWLY. 
 
 divine commandments ; and, foreseeing the calamities 
 which threatened his country, thus addressed them : “ I 
 cannot conceal from you, fathers of the country, certain 
 events which oppress my heart. Religion will suffer 
 much some time after my death. Oh, grief ! what mis- 
 fortunes will then rain on this unfortunate land I For 
 Jesus’s sake I beseech you not tobe seduced by the false 
 appearance of novelty. Cling to the ancient faith, do 
 not allow yourselves to be agitated like weathercocks by 
 the wind of new doctrines. Preserve the religion of 
 your fathers : avoid new teachers and despise them, for 
 they can do nothing but lead you astray.” The sad 
 prophecy of the venerable man was fulfilled, and Berne 
 was one of the cantons most infected by the errors of 
 Zuinglius and Calvin. 
 
 Of course, like a good solitary, he had his contests 
 with the devil ; and the devil, as he did in other times 
 to the Anthonys, the Pacomios, and the Tenets, attacked 
 him fearfully, sometimes burying his soul in desolation 
 and bitterness. Brother Ulrich related that the servant 
 of God was twice strongly tempted to abandon solitude 
 and return to enjoy domestic happiness. But he always 
 came off victorious over hell by having recourse to 
 prayer and the aid of the Queen of Angels. This is 
 borne witness to by this disciple of the servant of God, 
 to whom we owe many particulars of his life. Ulrich 
 was a German gentleman, a native of Bavaria, who, 
 after various adventures, had renounced the world and 
 joined Nicholas in the service of God, as several others 
 had desired to do. God, in his turn, crowned the 
 victories of his servant with new and special favours. 
 The consideration of the sufferings of Jesus Christ was 
 to him a spring of graces : in the shadow of the tree of 
 the cross Nicholas enjoyed the fruits of eternal life. At 
 sight of the sacred wood and the ingratitude of men he 
 burst into bitter and sweet tears, with which he would 
 
BLESSED NICHOLAS DE FLUE. 
 
 165 
 
 have desired to wash out the sins of the whole world. 
 He would have wished to burn all in the flame of divine 
 love, in the fire of the love of Jesus crucified. He wrote 
 to the governors of Berne : “ Put down public vices : 
 ever follow the dictates of justice. Profoundly engrave 
 on your hearts the recollection of the passion of Jesus 
 Christ, and you shall receive great consolation in the 
 time of adversity.” 
 
 XIY. 
 
 One day, after receiving Communion, in presence of 
 some devout persons, he retired to make his thanksgiv- 
 ing in a corner of the chapel, and was carried away in 
 spirit, remaining a long time without sense. The by- 
 standers remarked it, and one of them asked him a 
 question, but received no answer. At last the saint 
 awoke from this favoured sleep, and, heaving a deep 
 sigh, deplored the coldness of Christians with regard to 
 this august sacrament, in which they receive the bread 
 of the strong, containing in itself al] kinds of delights. 
 As his term was approaching, the heroic virtues of the 
 saint were increasing, and his pure soul reflected with 
 new splendour the image of Jesus Christ. At last the 
 hour prefixed by the Lord arrived. Despite his austere 
 life and his twenty years’ fast, he had always enjoyed 
 good health; but eight days before his death he was 
 attacked by a painful illness, which presaged the term 
 of his mortal career. At the first notice of his sickness 
 his whole family flocked to the patient’s side to attend 
 him in his last moments. In the midst of the most 
 acute pains Nicholas enjoyed unalterable peace. The 
 love of suffering for Jesus turned into delights his pri- 
 vations and bitterness. When some of his relations 
 expressed compassion for his pains, he answered : 
 “ What is this compared to what our Saviour endured ?” 
 
166 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 “ 0 Jesus ! ” lie sometimes exclaimed/ 4 give me patience 
 to suffer for Thee. Receive the sacrifice of my life, and 
 have mercy on me.” When asked by his son Nicholas, 
 now a worthy priest, if he entertained any feeling of re- 
 sentment against those who had offended or injured him, 
 he said he never thought of them except to recommend 
 them to God, and that he hoped to die like a true fol- 
 lower of Him who pardoned his executioners on the 
 cross. The priest of Estanz flew also to the side of his 
 friend as soon as he heard the news of his illness. 
 When he arrived he found him surrounded by his wife 
 and children. “ My children,” he said to them, “ great 
 as may be the sufferings of one in his agony, more 
 terrible still is it, believe me, to fall into the hands of 
 the living God. Labour, then, to so regulate your life 
 and conduct that you may be able to present yourselves 
 before the Supreme Judge, not in terror and dread, but 
 with joyful and serene mind. Death, in the eyes of a 
 good Christian, is no more than the end of his exile and 
 the beginning of his happiness.” 
 
 He made a general confession of his whole life, and 
 then earnestly begged for the holy Viaticum. At sight 
 of his beloved Jesus he opened his arms, full of consola- 
 tion ; and he was going to say something, but his weak- 
 ness and love prevented him. After receiving the 
 bread of angels, and being anointed with the oil of the 
 dying, he felt some relief. He modestly stretched him- 
 self and continued his prayers till his voice was hushed 
 in his agony. Then he took his wife’s and his children’s 
 hands, and, putting them on his heart, bade them fare- 
 well with expressive looks. Then he took that of the 
 priest and kissed it ; and finally pressing the crucifix to 
 his breast, and kissing it with ineffable devotion, uttered 
 three times the sweet name of Jesus, raised his eyes to 
 heaven, and expired in the arms of his companion 
 Ulrich, who never left him during his illness. 
 
ST. MENIGNIUS. 
 
 167 
 
 As soon as the news of the saint’s death spread, 
 monrning and consternation were depicted on the coun- 
 tenances of all. Every Swiss bewailed the death of his 
 loving father. The solitude of Rauft witnessed the 
 glorious triumph of virtue and reconciliation. All the 
 neighbouring villages, with their priests and ecclesi- 
 astics, hastened to form part of the funeral cortege of 
 the precious remains of the deceased. His sacred body 
 was buried with great magnificence, and God wrought 
 numerous miracles at his grave. He died, as the Lord 
 had foretold him, on the 21st of March, 1427. On the 
 day after the funeral Nicholas appeared to his wife and 
 to other inhabitants of Saxeln, not as a worn-out old 
 man, pale, fleshless, reduced by toil and breathing 
 penance, but as a youth emitting rays of light and with 
 a white banner in his hand, the symbol of his innocence. 
 
 In 1510 they exhumed his relics and placed them in 
 a magnificent tomb. Finally, in view of the authenticity 
 of his miracles, and after a serious examination of his 
 heroic virtues, Pope Clement IX. allowed a Mass and 
 Office in honour of the venerable Nicholas, and Clement 
 X. inscribed the name of the saintly hermit on the cata- 
 logue of the beatified. 
 
 ST. MENIGNIUS, FULLER. 
 
 In Misia, between Cicicus and Lampsacus on the sea of 
 Marmora, there was an ancient city called Paros, where 
 our saint lived and gained the crown of martyrdom. 
 When Decius mounted the throne over the dead bodies 
 of Philip and his son, assassinated by the troops, he 
 raised so terrible a persecution against the inoffensive 
 and defenceless Christians, that, according to the ex- 
 pression of St. Dionysius of Alexandria, one would 
 imagine that the fulfilment of our Saviour’s prophecy 
 
168 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 regarding the fearful events to precede the end of the 
 world was about taking place. The benign providence 
 of the Lord permitted these bitter tribulations for the 
 purpose of purifying and restoring faith and charity, 
 arms which, in the idleness of peace, had become rusted 
 in the minds of many Christians. 
 
 This poor labourer of ours was a married man, but a 
 fervent Christian, and knew how to reconcile in the 
 office of fuller the love of labour with piety to God and 
 mercy to his neighbour. Finding himself at liberty, 
 whether from the obscurity of his position or his love of 
 retirement, whilst others were dragging their heavy 
 chains and weaving their crown of glory in dark prisons, 
 our fuller employed his leisure in visiting the prisons 
 without fear of the danger, and consoling and assisting, 
 according to his means, the persecuted of Jesus Christ. 
 The saint passed a considerable part of the day in full- 
 ing cloth by the strength of arm, as was then the custom, 
 and with his sweat mingled his tears for those who 
 showed weakness in the faith. Not satisfied with em- 
 ploying his limited savings for the benefit of his afflicted 
 brethren, and envious in a holy way of the glorious fate 
 of the martyrs, he constantly besought the Lord to grant 
 him grace also to shed his blood in defence of the faith 
 he swore to in baptism ; and the benign Lord heard the 
 prayer of the fervent fuller. 
 
 One night the prisoners in the jail, some through 
 dread of their own want of constancy in the atrocious 
 torments, and some that the omnipotence of the God 
 whom they adored might be manifested, unanimously 
 appealed to the throne of the Most High in the follow- 
 ing supplication : “0 Lord ! King of heaven, who, 
 without noise or tumult, didst liberate Peter, the prince 
 of the apostles, from prison, and sent thy angel to break 
 his chains and restore him to liberty, send us Thy power- 
 ful aid and free us from these irons and this jail, and let 
 
ST. MENIGNIUS. 
 
 169 
 
 Thy enemies, who despise Thy name, know that Thon 
 alone art the omnipotent God and the Sovereign Gover- 
 nor of the universe.” They had scarcely finished their 
 prayer when a bright light dissipated the darkness and 
 transformed the prison into a heaven. It was Christ 
 Jesns, who, having propitiously heard that prayer, 
 emitted those rays. “ Courage, my children,” He said, 
 “ I am with you.” At His words the chains fell broken 
 from their feet, and the doors of the prison were opened 
 wide. “Go,” said Jesus, “and preach through the 
 world the power of my omnipotent arm ; ” and all went 
 out without the least obstruction. The guards and 
 sentinels saw nothing of this, and hence, when they 
 found the prison empty in the morning, their wonder 
 was great, as they were confident the precautions they 
 took were quite sufficient. Soon the news of the strange 
 event spread through the town, and it was publicly 
 announced that Jesus of Nazareth had appeared at 
 night to the prisoners and set them free. The story 
 reached Menignius as he was fulling cloth on the river 
 bank. He could scarcely contain himself for joy at the 
 triumph of the Saviour over the emissaries of hell, when 
 he clearly heard a mysterious voice, which said to him : 
 “ Come, Menignius, I want to crown you with glory and 
 give you eternal happiness.” This voice, being repeated 
 a second and third time, the saint understood that the 
 Lord had accepted his desires, aud was calling him to 
 the combat to give him the palm of martyrdom. Con- 
 vinced of the truth of the inspiration, he threw down 
 his implements and went home to prepare himself for 
 the contest by penance and prayer. 
 
 II. 
 
 At the end of a few days the sanguinary praetor came, 
 resolved to have vengeance for the apparent outrage, and 
 to water the streets with Christian blood, even to the 
 
170 LIGHT FKOM THE LOWLY. 
 
 extirpation of Catholicity. Having published his im- 
 pious edicts, he commanded that the instruments of 
 torture should be prepared and exposed in public, as it 
 were, challenging the Christians to defend their doctrine. 
 The maxims of Jesus have ever infused heroism and 
 true nobility into well-formed minds, even though they 
 be of humble condition and lowly position in the eyes 
 of mortals. All trades and professions are suited for 
 sanctity, when followed according to the principles of 
 the Gospel. And so our saintly fuller, despising all 
 human respect, trampling on the glory of the world, 
 full of holy zeal in the cáuse of faith, animated by sen- 
 timents more noble and generous than the false wisdom 
 of the world can communicate, after pulling down the 
 public edicts, presented himself before the judge and 
 accused him of his iniquitous proceedings against the 
 disciples of the Crucified. He takes the sanguinary 
 decree of the emperor, and, in his very presence, tears 
 it in pieces and tramples on it. The praetor’s attendants, 
 at sight of this liberty, threw him to the ground, and, 
 after kicking him, cruelly scourged him. Then the judge 
 rose up and said to the valiant athlete, now almost dead 
 from the blows and the wounds he received : “ Wretch, 
 how dare you do such a thing in my presence ?” “I 
 did it for Jesus.” “ Take away the madman,” said the 
 judge, “ and torture him without compassion. We shall 
 see if Christ comes to save him.” Those hyenas com- 
 plied with this order so faithfully that they did not stop 
 till they tore the flesh from his very entrails. The 
 praetor mocked the invincible confessor, and blasphemed 
 Jesus on seeing the glorious fuller so cruelly tormented ; 
 but the valorous soldier of the faith, with serene mind, 
 remained constant, and suffered all with the hope of the 
 immortal crown, which he now almost touched with 
 his hand. A short pain is an eternal gain ! Who 
 would not willingly suffer all to secure a reward so in- 
 
ST. MENIGNIUS. 
 
 171 
 
 estimable ? These thoughts made him answer the tyrant 
 with Christian liberty and modesty, and tell him that 
 there is a supreme tribunal before which judges and 
 juries must appear to give an account of their actions. 
 
 The president, furious at seeing his self-respect morti- 
 fied by a common but unconquerable labourer, said to 
 the executioners : “ Cut those fingers in pieces, with 
 which he dared to tear the divine emperor’s decree.” 
 Those wild beasts, thirsting for blood, did not wait to 
 be told a second time ; and the saint suffered this cruel 
 torment with placid, patient, and joyful countenance, 
 because considered worthy to give that proof of love and 
 fidelity to his Divine Captain. When the barbarous order 
 j was executed, the judge ordered him to be sent back to 
 I prison that the tortures might be renewed next day. 
 
 : When again presented before the tribunal, the judge was 
 ¡ ashamed to see a poor fuller more ready to suffer than he 
 was able to devise torments to punish him. Exasperated to 
 I madness when he found the athlete firm as a rock when 
 there was question of denying Jesus Christ, he ordered 
 his head to be publicly cut off as a warning to the Chris- 
 1 tians. The wretch knew not that the blood of martyrs 
 is a fruitful seed, from which new and invincible dis- 
 ciples of the Crucified spring. A numerous concourse, 
 among whom was his afflicted wife, turned into a sea of 
 ; tears for the loss of so loving and industrious a husband, 
 followed him to his execution. When they arrived at 
 the place, the invincible martyr, before presenting his 
 head to the executioner, exhorted the spectators to em- 
 brace the Catholic faith, the only one which could make 
 them truly happy in this life and in the next ; and after 
 i recommending his wife to the charity of the Christians, 
 
 1 he bowed his head to receive the fatal blow. A portent- 
 ous marvel came to confirm the fuller’s innocence, and 
 the excellence of the religion he professed. When his 
 I head fell, separated from his body, a beautiful white dove 
 
172 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 flew out of liis mouth towards heaven in sight of the 
 public, and the people in wonder exclaimed : — “ Great 
 and omnipotent is the God of Menignius.” The praetor 
 was alarmed when he heard of the effect produced on the 
 crowd by the glorious athlete’s death ; but, hardened in 
 his wickedness, he ordered the sacred remains to be 
 guarded, in order to withdraw them from the veneration 
 of the faithful. But in vain, for the Lord wished to 
 glorify his servant in his relics, and no power avails 
 against God. By divine disposition the guards went to 
 sleep, and the watchful Christians collected the sacred 
 deposit and took it away to serve as an encouragement 
 and example to others. 
 
 ST. ZITA, SERVANT. 
 
 I, 
 
 About the middle of the thirteenth century there lived a 
 young girl named Zita, which in the language of her 
 time and country means Virgin, who by her heroic virtues 
 merited the honours of our altars. She was born in 
 Monsegradi, a little village about eight leagues from 
 Lucca, in Italy. Her parents, John Lombard and Boní- 
 sima, were poor, but very rich in virtues, who at the 
 proper time knew how to infuse the fear of God into 
 their daughter’s tender mind. To induce her to do or 
 to avoid anything it was enough to say to her : “ God 
 wishes it ; this is the will of God ; that other is dis- 
 pleasing to his Divine Majesty.” It appeared to her im- 
 possible that there could be creatures so blinded by 
 passion, that knowing, on one hand, that sin was a rebel- 
 lion against the most powerful and loving Father, against 
 the wisest and most beneficent Friend, against the 
 greatest and most humane King, against a God infinite 
 in all His attributes ; and on the other the horror of 
 
ST. ZITA. 
 
 173 
 
 ! those eternal flames with which sin is punished, wherever 
 it is met with, whether in the highest angels or in man 
 previously enriched with all the gifts of grace, that 
 ; they would dare to commit it with such ease, and for 
 j motives so slight. With such a disposition and training, 
 
 ! she so advanced in piety, modesty, and sweetness, that 
 she was the charm of all who knew her. She spoke 
 little, laboured much, and went about her business with 
 great recollection, anxious to please God in every step 
 she took. She had an uncle named Graciano, and a sister 
 a nun, named Margaret, who both died in the odour of 
 sanctity; but Zita outpaced them in the path of Christian 
 
 I perfection. 
 
 At the age of twelve she entered the service of a gen- 
 tleman of Lucca, named Fatinelli, who lived near the 
 church of St. Fridian, and whose family existed up to the 
 end of the last century. In this humble state of servant 
 Zita found a powerful means during the fifty years or so 
 she remained in it of sanctifying her soul, and growing 
 daily in virtue. It is true her Christian master and mis- 
 
 I tress looked on their servants as members of their family, 
 for whose conduct they should give a strict account to 
 the Lord, who confided them to their care ; but it is no 
 i less so that she, faithfully corresponding to these views, 
 i considered her occupation as an honourable employment, 
 to which the King of Glory had destined her, and that 
 she took the privations it entailed as a penance for her 
 sins, or as a powerful means of imitating Jesus Christ. 
 
 She was well known for her ardent charity. She 
 tenderly loved the poor, as beloved brethren and heirs of 
 Jesus Christ. Her slight savings and all she received 
 from others was for them. She willingly became god- 
 mother to all neglected children, and treated them like 
 the tenderest mother, assisting them by every means in 
 her power. Let no one imagine, however, that Zita in 
 all this neglected her own duties ; she looked on their 
 
174 
 
 LIGHT FEOM THE LOWLY. 
 
 fulfilment as an act of justice and the express will of God. 
 Consequently her first care was to please her master and 
 mistress, and to do promptly and willingly whatever they 
 commanded : honouring them, not so much to gain their 
 praise, or acquire the character of a good servant, as 
 because she regarded them as the representatives of 
 Jesus Christ on earth, she looked on it as a happiness to 
 obey their slightest hint, because it was the will of God, 
 whom she sought in all her works. She was mild as a 
 lamb, simple as a dove, humble as a violet. She served 
 all with Christian sweetness, and never felt she was 
 doing anyone a favour. If by chance it happened that 
 she gave offence to any member of the family, she imme- 
 diately went on her knees before the one offended, and 
 humbly begged pardon. 
 
 II. 
 
 God, to prove His servant, allowed her to be persecuted, 
 and her intentions wrongly interpreted. Her modesty 
 was taken for stupidity, her punctuality in her duties 
 was looked on as the fruit of refined pride, her piety as 
 exquisite hypocrisy. Black envy, which, like hidden 
 fire, burns and consumes ignoble hearts, had taken pos- 
 session of the breast of another servant, and allowed her 
 not to look justly on Zita, who by her virtues had gained 
 the affection of her employers. So she availed herself 
 of every occasion to calumniate and blacken the saint, 
 and excite against her doubts and want of confidence. 
 If anything were lost, or went astray, Zita must have 
 made away with it to have something to give to the 
 poor. If any command had not been duly fulfilled it 
 was Zita’s carelessness or malice prevented it. If any- 
 thing turned out well to the master’s satisfaction it was 
 because Zita had no hand in it, All the bad things were 
 due to Zita : Zita did nothing right nor as it should be. 
 
ST. ZITA. 
 
 175 
 
 And so even her employers formed wrong judgments 
 about the innocent virgin, and not seldom caused her 
 suffering. She got from them cross faces, harsh words, 
 
 ; bitter rebukes, severe threats ; and from the servants 
 mockery and heartless sarcasm. But the saint, though 
 she suffered keenly, did not lose heart. Always even- 
 tempered and resigned, she bore all as arranged by 
 Divine Providence, without complaining to anyone but 
 God, without resenting anything, but ever desirous of 
 imitating her Divine Master, who died the victim of 
 persecution and calumny. In the end her humility, her 
 moderation, her piety, and her exactness in her duties 
 triumphed over all talk and slander, and regained for 
 her the estimation of all who knew her. She, however, 
 conducted herself as usual, and wondered she should 
 receive praise when she believed she only deserved 
 reproof. This very humility made her avail herself of 
 every moment of her time. Every hour she could save 
 from her ordinary duties she employed in good works. 
 Above all, she visited the sick poor, consoled them with 
 the greatest tenderness, and depriving her own mouth of 
 it, brought them some little kindness, which she knew 
 they would like. She took particular pains with the 
 very author of her troubles. Solicitous and tender, she 
 cared her as if she had been her most faithful and 
 dearest friend. In a sea of trouble and tears, the sick 
 ! girl, in presence of Zita and her mistress, acknowledged 
 her injustice and made public retractation of her calum- 
 nies. “Ah, my mistress,” she exclaimed, “Zita, is an 
 angel, and I have been her enemy. Envy and jealousy 
 blinded me and I caluminated her.” The saint had pro- 
 strated herself at the foot of the bed, praying for the 
 dying woman, who in a few moments was to stand 
 before the divine tribunal. Her prayers, perhaps hastened 
 I her eternal glory. By such conduct she daily secured 
 I the good will of her employers more and more, and 
 
176 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 gained new strength, to assist the poor and the sick. 
 More than once, too, the Lord showed by prodigies how 
 much He was pleased by the saintly servant’s generosity. 
 On a certain occasion a pilgrim, burning with heat and 
 thirst, asked her for an alms. The afflicted servant had 
 absolutely nothing, having already distributed all she 
 possessed, and she was filled with sadness at not being 
 able to reheve the poor of Jesus Christ. As if some- 
 thing suddenly occurred to her, she told him to wait 
 a little. She went for a glass of water, and making the 
 sign of the cross over it, gave it to the thirsty pilgrim. 
 Prodigy of God ! The water was converted into wine 
 so good, that the poor man gratefully said he never had 
 tasted so delicious a drink in all his life. From this and 
 other like portents, which soon became divulged through 
 the people in whose favour they were wrought, her 
 employers put still more confidence in her, and distri- 
 buted through her hands their customary alms. And the 
 poor who called at Fatinelli’s door always asked for Zita ; 
 and she, the more jovial and content the greater their 
 number, received all with marks of maternal tenderness. 
 If with her allowance she had not sufficient to satisfy 
 all, she consoled them with words full of mercy, told 
 them to return to-morrow, and prayed God to move the 
 heart of someone to relieve them in the meantime. She 
 was not content with this. All the presents she got, and 
 sometimes even her own dinner, served to supply the 
 wants of some unfortunate, or to relieve some sick per- 
 son, she herself fasting. Besides, as a gentleman’s 
 servant, she might have slept on a good bed ; but she 
 would yield it to some poor woman, and sleep herself on 
 the floor, or on a bare plank. She took particular pains 
 with women of bad life, and tried every means to show 
 them the evil of their way, and looked on her care as 
 well paid if even for a time she could withdraw them 
 from their evil courses. Every misery, corporal as well 
 
ST. ZITA. 177 
 
 as spiritual, transpierced her heart, and left her no peace 
 till she did all she could to remedy it. 
 
 III. 
 
 A sad echo resounded in her heart when she heard the 
 i bell ring for the execution of some prisoner condemned 
 to death. At the first sound poor Zita could not re- 
 strain her tears ; and day or night, whilst the prepara- 
 tion of the criminal for his fearful passage continued, 
 she ceased not to pray for the eternal salvation of the 
 I poor wretch. And this sentiment was renewed to a 
 : certain degree whenever she heard of any misfortune, or 
 knew that some sinner was in the agony of death. 
 
 ¡ “ Succour him, O Lord,” she would exclaim ; “ have 
 i compassion on the poor dying man ! Make him peni- 
 tent ! Free him from the attacks of the enemy ! ” It is 
 , impossible to tell how much she was interested in the 
 i conversion of unhappy sinners. To see Jesus offended, 
 and souls, redeemed by His Precious Blood, contaminated 
 by sin, transfixed her heart like a two-edged sword. 
 
 Í The good servant, so humble, so submissive, so con- 
 descending, so sweet with all, assumed extraordinary 
 authority and fortitude whenever there was question of 
 preventing offences to God or restraining liberties. One 
 ¡of the servants of the house, blinded by passion, attempted 
 once to stain the virginal purity of the saint ; but she, 
 
 | |like an eagle struggling to free her little ones from 
 ¡aggressive hands, tore his face with her nails, and would 
 sooner take his life than yield. She loved purity more 
 ¡than the pupils of her eyes. To preserve this rich 
 I treasure, so begrudged to us by our enemies, to continual 
 I prayer she united fasting, and above all, the mortification 
 of her senses and passions. Never was she seen at those 
 diversions, in which innocence runs so much danger, 
 
 12 
 
 
178 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 nor in tliose places frequented by foolish and immodest 
 persons. Careful and solicitous for the preservation of 
 the virginal virtue, she avoided everything that could 
 stain a flower so delicate. Prayer was the dew with 
 which she preserved it fresh, the food with which she 
 nourished it. She often went at midnight to Matins, or 
 got up at this hour to meditate, and remained alone in 
 the church to continue her prayers. She attended daily 
 at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass with such reverence and 
 fervour that she excited devotion in all who saw her. 
 Always on her knees, with her eyes fixed on heaven, 
 attentive to the august ceremonies, she contemplated 
 her beloved Jesus as if she were witnessing His death 
 on Calvary, and watered the pavement with her tears. 
 The Lord often favoured her with extraordinary conso- 
 lations. Lost to sense in them, carried away in spirit, 
 and surrounded sometimes with an aureola of light, she 
 appeared rather to live among the angelic choirs than 
 mortal men. She usually returned home very early, so 
 that when her employers got up they found everything 
 clean and in order. 
 
 1Y. 
 
 Yet it happened one day that, buried in her prayers, 
 when day broke, she had completely forgotten to bake 
 bread for the house, as she should have done. When 
 she thought of it she got up and went home, fretting 
 lest she should not have time to do it. When she 
 arrived she found the flour kneaded and the loaves 
 formed ready to be put in the oven. The servant, thinking j 
 it was her mistress who did it, went to thank her ; but the 
 mistress was astonished, and inquiring into the matter, 
 found that no mortal could have put a hand to the busi- 
 ness, and her esteem for her servant was thereby in- \ 
 creased. One Christmas night, when it was very cold, 
 
ST. ZITA. 
 
 179 
 
 Zita was preparing to go to Matins and midnight Mass. 
 When her master saw her he said : “ Where are yon 
 going, child, in such cold, from which we can scarcely 
 protect ourselves, with all our clothing ? How can you 
 hear it after your rigorous fasts, so poorly clad, and 
 having to remain so long on the frozen marble ? Better 
 for you to stay at home, where you can quietly mind 
 your prayers. But if you will go, at least take a cloak 
 with you to protect you from the inclemency of the night . rJ 
 Unable to resist her devotion, which urged her not to 
 neglect so great a solemnity, Zita took the cloak her 
 master mentioned, and went. When leaving, her mastei 
 said to her : “ Zita, take care not to lend the cloak to 
 anyone, for if you lose it you may be prepared for a 
 good scolding.” The servant of God answered : “ Don’t 
 fear, sir, with God’s help the cloak will come home all 
 right.” When she reached the church she saw near her 
 a poor man half naked and shivering with cold. This 
 was enough to move her to compassion, and turning to 
 the beggar she said : “ What ails you, brother ? What 
 makes you weep ? ” The poor man, looking at her, 
 silently signified his nakedness. Then the good woman 
 instinctively taking the cloak from her shoulders, reached 
 it to him saying : “ Take this, brother, and cover your- 
 self till Mass is over. Don’t leave from where you are, 
 and then I will take you home and make a fire to warm 
 you.” Without another word Zita went to her accus 
 tomed place and became absorbed in prayer as usual. 
 When the divine offices were over, and almost the whole 
 congregation had gone home, the devout servant of God 
 went to look for the poor man ; but he had disappeared, 
 and after searching in all directions she could find him 
 neither without nor within the church. “What has 
 become of him ? ” said the saint to herself. “ Perhaps 
 they robbed him of the cloak and he is ashamed to show 
 himself to me. His modest and devout appearance lead 
 
180 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 me to think he did not make off with it. Maybe he 
 lost it in the crush, poor fellow.” And thus she piously 
 tried to excuse the beggar : for it is the part of the 
 faithful followers of Jesus Christ not to think ill of any- 
 one, and to excuse their neighbour’s intention when his 
 actions are nob deserving of praise. At last, having 
 failed in her search, she hurried home, trusting that 
 Cod would appease her master’s indignation, justly ex- 
 cited by her carelessness, or inspire the person who had 
 it to return the cloak. When her master saw her enter 
 the house without the garment, as he had feared, he 
 flew into a passion, and scolded her without measure, 
 all which the saint bore in silence and Christian submis- 
 sion. When obliged, but not to excuse herself, she 
 simply told what had happened, without adding to or 
 taking from it, for she hated a lie as a fault disagreeable 
 to Cod. She endeavoured, however, to give him hopes 
 that the Lord would not permit the loss of that which 
 was given through pure compassion and charity. . 
 
 The master, who knew the singular providence which 
 the Almighty employed towards the charitable servant, 
 did not altogether despair of recovering his cloak ; but 
 that did not prevent him from showing his anger to 
 Zita, the Lord so permitting, to prove the virtue of his 
 beloved follower. And in fact, at three o’clock in the 
 evening, a poor man of venerable and enchanting ap- 
 pearance called at Fatinelli’s house with the cloak on his 
 arm. The master went out after Zita to see who it was, 
 and he saw the poor man give the cloak to the servant, 
 thanking her for her charity. Both he and Zita were 
 going to speak to him, but he suddenly disappeared in 
 a flash of celestial light, leaving both master and servant 
 inundated with inexplicable consolation. 
 
ST. ZITA. 
 
 181 
 
 y. 
 
 This servant of the Lord, who, with such solicitude, 
 clothed and fed Jesns Christ in his poor, not only avoided 
 foolish adornments calculated to foster vice in the heart, 
 hut always dressed poorly and went barefooted, and in 
 all things showed herself the humble slave of Jesns, who 
 made Himself poor for our sake. It was a maxim of 
 hers that ‘ 4 it is not rich dress and dainty food that open 
 to us the gates of heaven, but mortification and Chris- 
 tian charity.” She thought so little of all the things of 
 this world that she distributed her own poor salary 
 among the needy. She drew this self-denial and charity 
 from meditation on the sufferings of Jesus. She was 
 very devout to His passion, the recollection of which 
 inflamed her so in the fire of divine love, that she burst 
 into loving sighs, ardent tears, and tender colloquies. 
 It was enough for her to see the image of Christ cru- 
 cified, to bewail bitterly the ingratitude of men towards 
 so loving a brother, who did not hesitate to give his life 
 for us. She daily went over the different steps of that 
 sanguinary tragedy, to the no slight consolation of her 
 soul and her advancement in perfection. About six 
 miles from the city there was a temple dedicated to the 
 holy angels. Thither Zita went every Friday in honour 
 of her beloved Jesus, and neither rain nor tempest could 
 prevent her making this sacrifice. One day that she was 
 very busy she could not go till night-fall. A gentleman 
 met her on the road, and said : “ Whither are you going, 
 foolish woman, at such an hour ? Don’t you see night 
 will soon catch you, and you may lose your way ?” 
 “ Go your own,” said the saint; “ and I hope God will 
 lead me right.” The gentleman spurred his horse and 
 went at a gallop to St. Angelo, where the said church 
 
182 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 was. When passing it he found Zita on her knees 
 before the door praying with great fervour and mo- 
 desty. The gentleman, in wonder, asked her how she 
 arrived so quick. And she answered (with Job) : “ that 
 as' God willed, so it was.” Zita fostered the divine flame 
 which burned in her breast by frequent and fervent 
 ejaculations, which, day and night, at home and abroad, 
 at work and at rest, alone and in company, she addressed 
 to Jesus. 
 
 She was no less devout to the Blessed Virgin, the 
 channel through which all graces come to us. She felt- 
 such love, confidence, and reverence for the Mother of 
 Divine Love, that she venerated the sweet name of Mary 
 in whoever bore it, regarding her with special affection 
 and veneration. She visited with singular devotion the 
 churches dedicated to Our Lady, and kept her feasts 
 with great fervour. Nor did our sovereign Queen forget 
 to reward this devotion by special favours, even in this 
 world. Beturning one day fasting from visiting a 
 church of St. James and another of St. Peter, near 
 Pisa, night overtook her on the road when far from 
 home. In vain did several people ask her to spend i 
 with them : she continued her walk in order to be home 
 on the following day. At cock-crow she felt faint from 
 weariness and fasting, and sat down near a well on the 
 ”oad. She went to cool her face with a little water, 
 when a venerable matron appeared to her more beautiful 
 than an angel, and invited her to accompany her to the 
 city. Zita felt in her presence new strength to continue 
 her journey, and, without hesitation, said : “ Let us go, 
 with the blessing of God.” They started together, and 
 when they arrived the gates of the bridge of the city 
 opened and allowed them free passage. When they 
 entered the city and arrived at her door, she turned to 
 thank the stranger and ask her to go in. but found, to 
 her surprise and satisfaction, that she had disappeared. 
 
ST. ZITA. 
 
 183 
 
 VI. 
 
 This tender devotion to Jesus and Mary was not 
 sterile in onr saint, but engendered heroic virtues in her 
 soul. Through it she had arrived at such a high degree 
 of humility that, entirely dead to the world and herself, 
 she never answered with harshness, much less with in- 
 dignation, those who insulted, cursed, or injured her, nor 
 lost her habitual calm and holy joy when molested or 
 persecuted without reason or justice. This same hu- 
 mility moved her not only to hide, as far as possible, 
 the extraordinary favours she received from (Tod, but 
 also to employ herself in the lowliest and most repug- 
 nant duties of the house, and endeavour to have herself 
 looked down on and despised. To preserve this treasure 
 and increase it, she frequently approached the tribunal 
 of penance, and bewailed with such bitter tears the 
 slightest imperfections, that she infused compunction 
 and repentance into all. With a heart so pure and 
 adorned with so many virtues, what graces did she not 
 receive on approaching the divine banquet, on receiving 
 that Divine Spouse, the only master of her heart ! Her 
 burning countenance, her streaming eyes, indicated to 
 the bystanders that her ardent soul was melting in the 
 fire cf divine love. 
 
 When Zita reached an advanced age, her employers 
 no longer wished to consider her as a servant, but as a 
 child of the house, leaving her entirely free to occupy 
 herself as she desired. But Zita, who was a great lover 
 of poverty, never availed herself of this liberty except to 
 pay more attention to the poor and spend more time at 
 her devotions and penances ; for, as regards the service 
 of the house, she never allowed her age or infirmities to 
 dispense her from her duties. 
 
 On Wednesday', the 27th of April, 1272. a bright 
 star appeared above Lucca, whose brilliant ravs were 
 
184 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 not eclipsed by those of the snn at mid-day. At sight 
 of this extraordinary phenomenon, witnessed by all the 
 inhabitants of the town, the children ran through the 
 streets shouting, as if inspired : “ Come to the church of 
 St. Fridian, for Zita, the saint, has died.” And in fact 
 onr holy servant had expired at that very hour. After 
 five days of low fever, surrounded by some devout 
 women who had attended her, and fortified by the holy 
 sacraments of the Church, the aged virgin placidly 
 closed her eyes, and her soul went to receive the crown 
 of glory at the age of nearly sixty years. The noble 
 family of Fatinelli buried her according to her rank. 
 The church where the ceremony was to take place was 
 crowded with people of all classes and conditions. The 
 approaches by streets and squares through which the 
 funeral should pass were equally thronged, and all 
 wished to touch the body and carry away some relic. 
 Numerous miracles increased the people’s devotion for 
 the humble servant. The dumb spoke, the blind saw, 
 the deaf heard, all the afflicted found relief in the pro- 
 tection of the saint. At last the sacred remains were 
 interred in a stone coffin, from which, after a few days, i 
 a sweet liquor oozed, which miraculously cured all kinds \ 
 of maladies. A hundred and fifty miracles wrought by \ 
 it were juridically established, and are a proof of the 
 sanctity which may be reached by persons of the 
 humblest class and profession by fulfilling their duty, 
 and by a faithful correspondence to the inspirations of 
 grace. Her body was found entire and incorrupt three 
 hundred years after her death, in the year 1580, and is 
 preserved with great veneration in the church of St. 
 Fridian. Pope Leo X. approved of an office composed 
 in honour of St. Zita, and Innocent XII., in 1696, pub- 
 lished the decree of her beatification, and confirmed the 
 devotion paid to her from almost the time of her death. 
 
\ v • f 
 
 f§ ' ’'V " -5? 
 
 lícair'mg front tC^jki 
 
 
 % foto Jfamilg. 
 
 FROM THE BAPTISM OF JESUS TO HIS EX- 
 PULSION OF THE SELLERS FROM THE 
 TEMPLE. 
 
 Let ns return to Jesus.' He was on the borders of 
 thirty years, an age before which, among the Jews, it 
 was forbidden to assume the office of priest, prophet, or 
 master, when He assisted at the last moments of His 
 putative father. Some time before, John, the son of 
 Zachary, who had reached the same age, leaving the 
 desert, where he had. lived on locusts and wild honey, 
 appeared on the banks of the Jordan preaching penance. 
 
 ¡ He was dressed in a coarse camel skin ; but such was 
 his edifying life, so holy the maxims he taught, that he 
 attracted crowds from all the neighbouring districts, 
 who abandoned their home and ran to hear his preach- 
 ing, and receive the baptism of penance. He con- 
 demned presumption and hypocrisy, he anathematised 
 ambition and avarice, he thundered against lust and 
 idleness, and, with ardent zeal, he recommended charity 
 to the poor. The people, astonished at hearing such 
 pure and sound teaching, believed — at least not a few — 
 that John was the expected Messias ; but the holy pre- 
 cursor undeceived them, saying : “I, indeed, baptise 
 you with water ; but there shall come one mightier than 
 I, the latchet of whose shoes I am not worthy to loose. 
 

 186 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 He shall baptise you with the Holy Ghost and with fire. 
 Whose fan is in his hand, and He will purge his floor ; 
 and will gather the wheat into his barn, but the chaff 
 He will burn with unquenchable fire ” Thus did he 
 prophesy to them the terrible Day of Judgment. 
 
 But as the people kept up the rumour that John was 
 the Desired of nations, the Jews sent some priests and 
 Levites to the banks of the Jordan to find out what 
 foundation there was for all this talk. When these 
 commissioners arrived, they asked the precursor : “Who 
 art thou ? ” And he answered : “ I am not the Christ?” 
 And they said : “ What then ? Art thou Elias ?” And 
 he said : “ I am not.” “ Art thou the prophet ?” And 
 he answered : “ Ho.” and then they asked farther : 
 Ci Who art thou, that we may give an answer to them 
 that sent us ?” And he replied : “ I am the voice of one 
 crying in the wilderness : Make straight the way of the 
 Lord.” “ Then,” said they, “why dost thou baptise, if 
 thou be not Christ, nor Elias, nor the prophet ?” And 
 his answer was ; “I baptise with water ; but there has 
 stood One in the midst of you, whom you know' not.” 
 And he gave them to understand that He was the 
 Messias. 
 
 In those days, after bidding good bye to His Blessed 
 Mother, and getting her blessing, Jesus also left 
 Hazareth to go to be baptised by His precursor. As 
 soon as the Baptist recognised the Saviour of the world 
 standing among sinners, he was filled with holy dread 
 and profound respect ; and when he heard Jesus asking 
 for baptism like another, he said, in all humility : “I 
 ought tobe baptised by Thee, and comest Thou to me ?” 
 And Jesus answered : “ Suffer it to be so now. For so 
 it beeometh ns to fulfil all justice.” John bowed to the 
 humiliation of Jesus Christ, i.11 order that it might serve 
 as an antidote to human pride. And when the Lord 
 came out of the water, after He received baptism. He 
 
HISTORY OF THE HOLY FAMILY. 
 
 187 
 
 prostrated Himself to give thanks to His Eternal Father. 
 And suddenly the heavens were opened, and the Holy 
 Ghost descended upon Jesus in form of a dove, and a 
 mysterious voice came from the clouds, saying : “ This 
 is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” After 
 this palpable evidence, John no longer entertained the 
 slightest doubt that Jesus was the Messias. 
 
 When this edifying ceremony was over, the Saviour 
 was conducted by the Spirit to the desert, to struggle 
 with the Prince of Darkness. There He dwelt in the 
 most complete solitude for the space of forty days, 
 without other companionship than that of the beasts 
 which roamed about. And, as He never tasted food all 
 this time, at the end He felt the pangs of hunger. The 
 infernal dragon, who goes about seeking whom he may 
 devour and eternally destroy, availed himself of these 
 circumstances, and, approaching Jesus, tempted Him, 
 saying : “ If Thou be the Son of God, say to this stone 
 that it be made bread.” The Lord, both in order to 
 repel the enemy and to give us a lesson in the great con- 
 fidence we should ever have in Divine Providence, 
 humbly replied : “ It is written that ‘ man liveth not by 
 bread alone, but by every word of God.’ ” Man, en- 
 dowed with a rational soul, a living spark of the Diving, 
 has much greater need of the bread of the spirit, which is 
 the word of God, than of the material bread with which 
 he nourishes his body. As the latter, when deprived 
 of due sustenance, hurries rapidly to death : so the 
 former, without truth and virtue, which engender in it 
 the meditation of the divine law, languishes and sinks 
 into eternal ruin. When the devil found himself baffled, 
 he took occasion from his very defeat to return to the 
 charge. He tried to tempt Jesus now through vanity 
 and presumptuous confidence, and, taking Him to a, 
 pinnacle of the temple of Jerusalem, said to Him : “ Tf 
 Thou be the Son of God, cast. Thyself from hence, for it 
 
188 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 is written that ‘ He hath given His angels charge over 
 Thee, that they keep thee, and that in their hands they 
 shall hear Thee np, lest Thon dash Thy foot against a 
 stone.’ ” Bat Jesns immediately answered him : “ Thon 
 shalt not tempt the Lord thy God.” This was an answer 
 full of celestial wisdom, which teaches ns, that though 
 we should place unbounded confidence in the love and 
 omnipotence of God our Father, we should not pre- 
 sumptuously expect Him to aid us by miraculous means 
 when we can obtain our end by our own labour and in- 
 dustry. 
 
 The capital enemy of the human race did not yet give 
 in, but redoubling his efforts, and again attacking Him 
 whom he desireth to involve in his meshes, he carried 
 Him to the top of a mountain, and, pointing out to Him 
 all the glory and power of the kingdoms of the earth, 
 said to Him : ‘ To Thee will I give all this power and the 
 glory of them, for to me they are delivered, and to whom 
 I will I give them. If Thou, therefore, wilt adore before 
 me, all shall be Thine.” Such is the longing the devil 
 has for the destruction of one single soul, that he would 
 give the whole world to make it his own. “ Get behind 
 me, Satan,” Christ responded, “ for it is written : ‘ Thou 
 shalt adore the Lord thy God, and Him only shalt thou 
 serve.’ ” To serve God is to reign. And what is the 
 whole world if one does not serve God, since all the 
 goods of earth cannot satisfy the heart created for God 
 alone ? Then the devil departed, filled with shame 
 at his defeat, and instantly angels came to Christ and 
 ministered to Him. Ah ! with what pleasure they served 
 their Divine Monarch. 
 
 When this rigorous Lenten fast was concluded the 
 Lord entered on His evangelical labours, taking, as His 
 assistants, not the wise and powerful of the earth, but 
 most of them simple and humble fishermen. John had 
 gone to baptise in Bethania, beyond the Jordan, and, 
 
HISTORY OF THE HOLY FAMILY. 
 
 189 
 
 seeing Jesus, who happened to pass by there, he said to 
 two of his disciples : “ Behold the Lamb of God ; behold 
 Him who taketh away the sin of the world. This is He of 
 whom I said : 1 After me there cometh a man, who is 
 preferred before me : because He was before me. And 
 I knew Him not, but that He may be made manifest in 
 Israel ; therefore am I come, baptising with water.’ ” 
 Yes, Jesus, being God, was eternal, and, consequently, 
 anterior to the Baptist, although, as man, He was his 
 contemporary. John lost no opportunity of proclaiming 
 the dignity of Jesus. And so, on the present occasion, 
 he told them that in one of his visions he had seen the 
 Holy Ghost descend on Jesus in form of a dove and rest 
 on Him, according to the sign the Eternal had given him 
 in order to distinguish Him. When the two disciples 
 had heard these wonderful encomiums they followed 
 Jesus, anxious to speak to Him. The Messias turned, 
 as if He did not know their intention, and, seeing them 
 following Him, asked : “ What seek you ? ” And they 
 answered : “ Rabbi (which is to say, being interpreted, 
 Master) where dwellest Thou?” He said to them: 
 “ Come and see.” Jesus took them with Him, and they 
 passed nearly the whole day with Him. Andrew was so 
 struck by the gentle manners and the wisdom of Jesus 
 Christ, that the moment he met his brother Simon, he 
 told him the whole incident, and, though it was after 
 dark, hurried him off to pay our Lord a visit. Jesus 
 saluted the new disciple in the following words: “ Thou 
 art Simon, the son of John ; thou shalt be called Cephas, 
 which is interpreted Peter.” And thenceforth He chose 
 him as the firm rock on which to build His Church. 
 The following day He set out for Nazareth, accom- 
 panied by Andrew and Simon Peter, and another dis- 
 ciple who had gone with them to see Him, whom some 
 believe to have been Bartholomew, or James the son of 
 Zebedee. On the way they met with Philip, who, when 
 
190 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 Jesus invited him to join them, immediately left all to 
 follow Him. In this way, by supernatural and divine 
 calls, was Jesus gathering around Him those who should 
 preach his doctrine through the universe, and seal with 
 their blood His regenerating maxims. Twelve was the 
 number of the Apostles selected for this glorious enter- 
 prise, and their names were : Peter, Andrew, James, 
 John, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, James 
 the son of Alpheus, Simon, Jude brother of James, and 
 Judas Iscariot. 
 
 When Philip was admitted into the company of Jesus, 
 he could not contain himself for joy, and hence, when he 
 met, a little after his election, with Nathanael, he told 
 him that they had found the Messias, and that He was 
 Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph. And Nathanael 
 answered : “ Can anything of good come from Naza- 
 reth ?” “ Come,” said Philip, “and see.” They both 
 
 went, and when Jesus saw Nathanael, He exclaimed : 
 “ Behold an Israelite, indeed, in whom there is no guile.” 
 And then Nathanael remarked, with surprise: “ Whence 
 knowest thou me?” Jesus answered: “Before that 
 Philip called thee, when thou wast under the fig-tree, I 
 saw thee.” Some writers suppose that Nathanael was 
 then praying God for the grace to see and know the 
 promised Messias. But, prescinding from that, the good 
 Israelite, naturally astonished at seeing that Jesus pene- 
 trated things which he could not humanly know, uttered 
 these feeling words : “ Behold, thou art the Son of God, 
 thou art the King of Israel.” Jesus answered : “ Be- 
 cause I said unto thee, I saw thee under the fig-tree, 
 thou believest : greater things than these shalt thou 
 see. . . . Amen, amen I say to you, you shall see 
 the heavens opened, and the angels of God ascending 
 and descending upon the Son of man,” that is on the 
 last day, when He comes to judge the living and the 
 dead. Our Lord often called Himself the Son of Man, 
 
HISTORY OF THE HOLY FAMILY. 
 
 191 
 
 to indicate His human nature, as He does here to Na- 
 thanael, whom some believe, with a fair amount of pro- 
 bability, to have been St. Bartholomew. 
 
 Proofs were not wanting to strengthen the faith of 
 this docile Jew in the divinity of Jesus Christ, not the 
 least of them being what occurred shortly after this in- 
 terview. There was a marriage in Cana of Galilee, to 
 which Mary and Jesus, with His disciples, had been in- 
 vited. Jesus did not refuse to attend, thus foreshadow- 
 ing by His presence the sacramental dignity to which 
 He desired to elevate marriage. The feast was con- 
 ducted with innocent rejoicing, as also singular modesty, 
 as became the guest who presided at it; but unexpectedly, 
 whether from the large Humber of friends assembled, or 
 from the poverty of the spouses, the wine ran short. 
 The Virgin, taking pity on the poor people, looked at 
 our Saviour, and said to Him : “ They have no wine !” . . . 
 Jesus understood His Mother’s hint, and answered : 
 “ What is it to me and to thee ? My hour is not yet 
 come.” Notwithstanding this answer, or rather apparent 
 negative, Mary told the servants to do whatever Jesus 
 should command. There happened to be there six 
 water-pots of stone for the purifications of the Jews, 
 each of which held two or three measures. Jesus ordered 
 them to fill them with water, and when they were full, 
 He said to the servants : “ Draw out now, and carry (a 
 little) to the chief steward of the feast.” As the latter 
 did not know what our Lord had done, he tasted the 
 wine, and, calling the bridegroom, complained to him 
 thus : “ Every man at first setteth forth good wine, and 
 when men have well drank, then that which is worse. 
 But thou hast kept the good wine until now.” This was 
 the first of the public miracles of Jesus Christ, and it 
 confirmed the disciples in the idea they had already 
 formed of our Lord ; and it induces all Christians to fly 
 to Mary for aid in all their necessities. What will not 
 
192 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 that celestial and bountiful Lady do for those who im- 
 plore her assistance, when, without being asked, she 
 hastened with such generosity to the relief of these poor 
 spouses ? What favour can she deny to one who has a 
 lasting and true devotion to her, when she thus inter- 
 poses her maternal authority on behalf of people who, 
 perhaps, were not aware of her dignity ? Hence holy 
 writers say that devotion to the Blessed Virgin is a sign 
 of eternal predestination, and that not only no one was 
 ever damned who, confiding in Mary, endeavoured to 
 fight the enemies of his soul, availing himself of the as- 
 sistance sure to be given by her who is truly the refuge 
 of sinners, but that no one ever implored her patronage 
 in his troubles, whether temporal or spiritual, without 
 being heard by her. 
 
St. Liduvina 
 
LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 tries 1Y. 
 
 ST. BENEDICT JOSEPH LABRE, BEGGAR. 
 
 I. 
 
 The Lord raised up this pious beggar in the middle of 
 the eighteenth century to confound and humble pride 
 and condemn the effeminacy peculiar to those times, but 
 which ours, unfortunately, have inherited. His conduct, 
 at the same time that it gives us an undeniable proof of 
 the life and fecundity of the Catholic Church, establishes 
 to evidence that there is no state, no matter how lowly, 
 incompatible with the practice of the evangelical coun- 
 sels, or opposed to the acquisition of the most consum- 
 mate sanctity. 
 
 This poor man was born the 26th March, 1748, in 
 Ametti, a parish of the bishopric of Bologna, but at the 
 present day belonging to the diocese of Arras, in France. 
 His father, John Labre, and his mother, Anne Gramzire, 
 both of the farming class, endeavoured to inspire him 
 from his earliest years with a love of virtue and a horror 
 of vice. Benedict Joseph with his keen intelligence, 
 fair judgment, and felicitous memory, availed himself 
 of all he heard from them about our august religion; and 
 even at that tender age sought solitude and silence to 
 
196 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 hear the voice of God, which spoke to his heart. When 
 at play with other children, though noted for his live- 
 liness and gaiety, he still displayed in his bearing a 
 certain air of sedateness, sweetness, and modesty, 
 which captivated all hearts. At home, in a little childish 
 oratory he had a representation of the mysteries of the 
 Holy Mass ; and his greatest enjoyment was to entertain 
 himself with these pious objects, in which his soul was 
 already inflamed with the love of Jesus Christ. When 
 sent to school, at the age of five years, he applied him- 
 self diligently, particularly to the study of the Christian 
 doctrine. The child’s good disposition induced his pa- 
 rents to send him, when twelve years old, to his uncle, 
 Francis Labre, parish priest of Erin. 
 
 This good priest was vicar of Ametti when the child 
 was born. It was he baptised him, and now with laud- 
 able zeal he took on himself his education. Soon he 
 discovered the wonders of grace which the Lord had 
 sowed in his young nephew, which made him prepare 
 him immediately for his first Communion. Benedict 
 also on his part disposed himself with edifying care. 
 He made a general confession of his whole life, and 
 then approached to receive the Bread of Angels with 
 angelical fervour. When this religious duty was per- 
 formed to the youth’s ineffable consolation, he was sent 
 to learn Latin at the parish school. His application, 
 docility, modesty, sweetness, and fervour won for him 
 the love of his uncle and master, and the appreciation 
 and respect of his fellow-pupils. Here, with the perusal 
 of the good books he found in his uncle’s library, 
 commenced that life of prayer, solitude, and disen- 
 gagement from all creatures, which he preserved till 
 his death. In these young years he observed all the 
 fasts of the Church, he gave all he got to the poor, 
 and daily reserved part of his dinner to secretly aid a 
 poor woman. The reading of Father Le Jeune’s ser- 
 mons made such an impression on his heart that, ter- 
 rified at the pains of the reprobate, and at the great 
 
ST. BENEDICT JOSEPH LABRE. 
 
 197 
 
 number of those who are lost, he resolved to leave no 
 stone unturned, and to incessantly labour to free him- 
 self from those eternal flames. “ If few are saved,” he 
 said to himself, “is it not madness to stand with one’s 
 arms folded, and not labour earnestly to be of the num- 
 ber of the few ?” The labours undertaken by the most 
 austere religious for their eternal salvation appeared 
 to him light when he considered the evils from which 
 they free them and the great good they secure. Hence 
 he besought the Lord night and day to deign to point 
 out to him the state most conducive to his salvation. 
 
 II. 
 
 After a year of prayers, tears, and consultations, ab- 
 horring the world before he knew its wickedness, he 
 resolved to abandon it for ever and take refuge in La 
 Trappe. He was then sixteen years of age. For the 
 fulfilment of his aspirations he had to obtain the per- 
 mission of his uncle and parents, and he asked them for 
 it. The former at once acceded to the just desires and 
 reasons of his nephew ; but the latter, through a false 
 love, which blinds many parents, firmly opposed his 
 entrance into so austere an Order, believing he had not 
 strength to bear such strict mortification, observe per- 
 petual silence, and in his whole life taste nothing bnt 
 badly cooked vegetables. Benedict, hoping that God 
 would change his parents’ will, remained at his fervent 
 uncle’s side, and continued his prayers and entreaties to 
 the Lord to guide him in a matter of such importance. 
 
 In the meantime the hand of God made itself felt in 
 the parish of Erin. A contagious disease decimated the 
 population, and among other victims of charity was our 
 holy youth’s pious uncle. The good pastor, after spend- 
 ing his all in the relief of his flock, did not hesitate to 
 sacrifice his life for them, by zealously attending those 
 afflicted by the plague. Benedict, who in his own way 
 had given a brilliant example of charity in these critical 
 
198 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 circumstances, by consoling and assisting the sick, 
 deeply felt this loss, and became more and more con- 
 vinced of the instability of earthly things, and the mad- 
 ness of those who centre their happiness in them. He 
 returned home and renewed his entreaties to be allowed 
 to go to La Trappe, but met with the same resistance, 
 particularly on the part of his mother. Lengthened 
 was the combat he had to sustain, but his perseverance 
 was victorious in the end. His parents became satisfied 
 that such fervour and anxiety could only come from 
 God, and gave him the permission and blessing he de- 
 sired. The devout youth took to the road at once, and 
 after a long and painful journey, when he now appeared 
 < touch the term of his aspirations, he got from those 
 religious a distinct refusal on account of his youth. 
 Afflicted by this contradiction, but conforming to the 
 divine will, he returned home to await a better oppor- 
 tunity of consummating the sacrifice. 
 
 A few days after his return they sent him to con- 
 tinue Latin in the house of his maternal uncle, Vincent, 
 who was curate and schoolmaster of the parish of Cou- 
 teville. His leaning to a religious life, and above all to 
 the Orders of great austerity and penance, increased 
 daily by the frequenting of the Sacraments, continual 
 prayer, and constant mortification. He returned to the 
 charge, then, and asked to be admitted among the Car- 
 thusians of Montreuil, but was again refused on account 
 of his age. This did not make him despair. Hearing 
 that in Longerenesse they received young men, thither 
 he went, and was admitted to the exercises of the novi- 
 tiate. Benedict Joseph thought that he had been trans- 
 ported to Egypt or the desert of the Promised Land ; but 
 the Lord, who had only sent him to learn that way of life, 
 and afterwards* prove that there is no evangelical counsel 
 which may not be practised by those who live in the world, 
 buried him in such an abyss of bitterness and desolation, 
 that the superiors thought it prudent to send him home. 
 
 Hot because he had to leave the cloister did he aban- 
 
ST. BENEDICT JOSEPH LABEE. 
 
 199 
 
 don the spirit he had learned in it in a few days. In 
 the two years he lived with his parents, his penances 
 yielded in nothing to those practised by the religions : 
 his fasts were austere ; short the sleep he took on hard 
 boards ; his prayer almost continual. His loving mother, 
 alarmed at so penitent a life, qualified his austerities as 
 indiscretion, and tried to put an end to their rigours. 
 Benedict answered with submission and sweetness : — 
 “ God calls me to an austere life : it is right to try my- 
 self that I may better enter into the views of the Lord.” 
 It was a maxim of his that we should have three hearts 
 in one : the first pure, sincere, and holy, to love and 
 serve God, and bear with patience the cross He may be 
 pleased to impose on us ; the second full of ardour, love, 
 and generosity for the good of our neighbour, particu- 
 larly for the conversion of sinners and the relief of the 
 blessed souls in purgatory; and the last firm, severe, 
 and strong against ourselves, that we may yield not the 
 slightest satisfaction to our passions, but conceive a holy 
 horror of the pleasures of the senses, and mortify and 
 crucify the body in order to reign with Jesus Christ. 
 The whole heart, or the three in one, should be mild, 
 patient, and humble. With these principles no wonder 
 he should resist the efforts of his own and others, re- 
 maining constant in the road he entered on. However, 
 he had not at home the liberty he desired to torment his 
 body : his own humility, the respect he had for his pa- 
 rents, the desire to avoid notice, restrained him, and 
 hence he ardently desired to abandon his father’s house. 
 When one day he was pressing his mother for leave to 
 depart, and she refused, telling him that away from her 
 he would not find means to live, Benedict answered : — 
 “ Let me go, mother mine. I will live on roots like the 
 anchorets : surely, with God’s grace, we can live like 
 them.” Despite all, he was always gay, complacent, 
 and submissive, recognising in all the hand of God our 
 loving Father. He was to his neighbours a model of 
 fervour, but he edified them above all by the devotion 
 
200 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 andfrequency with which he received the holy sacraments. 
 He was shocked to see how few availed themselves of 
 penance, the tribunal of mercy, for which he prepared 
 himself as if he were a great sinner. What he said on 
 this point is worthy of consideration. 
 
 III. 
 
 Persuaded, like St. Teresa, that a great number of 
 sinners are condemned through the effect of bad con- 
 fessions, he used to say that he thought he saw three 
 processions in different directions coming from this 
 divine tribunal. 
 
 The first procession was composed of penitents, all 
 clothed in white, pure as the lily, who took the straight 
 road to heaven, whither they went immediately after 
 death. This group was small in numbers, and was formed 
 of those who, having omitted no means of making a 
 good confession, endeavoured to satisfy the divine jus- 
 tice by prayer, fasting, works of mercy, and indulgences. 
 
 Those of the second procession, not numerous either, 
 but more so than the other, were all dressed in purple, 
 as a sign of their repentance, and were composed of 
 those who were content with the dispositions necessary 
 for the validity of the sacrament, but neglected to 
 perform satisfactory works, or avail themselves of the 
 treasures of indulgences which the Church liberally 
 grants. All these when they died fell into purgatory 
 to fully satisfy for their sins. 
 
 The third proce'ssion which left the tribunal of pe- 
 nance, inspired terror and dread. It was formed of a 
 prodigious number of persons clothed all in black, to 
 indicate the miserable state of their souls, striding 
 with gigantic steps to their ruin, and falling like dry 
 leaves into the flames of hell. These were the sacri- 
 legious Christians, who through shame had concealed or 
 palliated their sins in confession, or had confessed them 
 without due sorrow or the resolution of amendment. 
 
 The servant of God, animated by these truths, did 
 
ST. BENEDICT JOSEPH LABRE. 
 
 201 
 
 all lie could not to approach this sacrament of mercy 
 through routine, hut with lively desires of receiving 
 pardon of his defects and of amending his imperfections. 
 And he gathered corresponding fruit. 
 
 As the voice of God was constantly resounding in his 
 heart, calling him to a still more austere life, he again 
 insisted and besought, and ceased not till he obtained his 
 parents’ consent to his retirement from the world. And 
 so, after three months’ study of philosophy in Ligni, he 
 returned, with their blessing, to seek admittance among 
 the Carthusians of Montreuil. This institute, whose 
 rigours and austerities might cow hearts passionately 
 attached to penance, appeared to our youth a sweet and 
 joyous retreat. But God did not want him here except 
 to prove his constancy. Contemplating in the temple 
 the gravity of the ancient ceremonies, the imposing 
 majesty of so many religious dressed in white cloaks, 
 the devout and measured singing of so many voices, and 
 outside the profound silence as of the desert, the long 
 corridors with their melancholy light, the countenances 
 of the brothers respiring penance, the narrowness of the 
 cells, image of the grave, one would think that a mind 
 greedy of mortification and austerity would have been 
 enchanted. But Labre, once admitted to the trials of the 
 novitiate, was so pressed by interior sufferings, that he 
 knew not one instant of consolation or joy. His body 
 appeared to succumb under the weight of labour, watch- 
 ing, and fasts : his spirit found no pleasure in any of 
 the exercises, and his soul, submerged in a sea of bitter- 
 ness, ran to God for consolation, and God refused it. 
 His desolation and dryness were so great, that though 
 in continual prayer, he imagined that prayer became im- 
 possible ; though burning in divine love, he thought he 
 was buried in the ice of death. And in the midst of 
 this agony he struggled to excite his fervour, and 
 prostrate at the feet of the Father of mercies, he pro- 
 tested that he wished to serve and love Him as His most 
 faithful servants, but nothing tranquilliscd him. When 
 
202 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 the good religions saw the servant of God bnried in these 
 interior torments, they were convinced that the Lord 
 was content with the desire of the sacrifice, which Be- 
 nedict intended to offer Him, and told him he must 
 renonnce the project. After six weeks of hard trials 
 he wrote to his parents : — “ I wish to tell yon that the 
 Carthnsians have not considered me suitable for their 
 Order, and I left on the 2nd of October. I look on this 
 disposition as an order of Providence, who calls me to 
 a more perfect state. ... I am going to La Trappe, 
 so long and so often desired. I ask yonr pardon for all 
 my acts of disobedience, and for all the annoyance I 
 have cansed yon ; and I pray yonr blessing that God 
 may accompany me.” At the age of twenty-one he 
 again asked to be admitted to La Trappe, and not suc- 
 ceeding, he went to the abbey of Sept-Ponts, in the 
 diocese of Autnn, a monastery celebrated for the auste- 
 rity of the rule observed in it, He was received as a 
 novice on the 28th of October, 1769, but was again sub- 
 merged in his former desolation. 
 
 IY. 
 
 Considering, on one hand, that Sovereign Good, worthy 
 of infinite love, and on the other his ingratitude, his 
 worthlessness, his nothingness, Benedict Joseph never 
 regarded himself as sufficiently humiliated and lowered 
 in the divine presence. As a person who looks fixedly 
 at the sun is blinded by his splendour, and appears to be 
 in darkness without the power to distinguish objects 
 except confusedly, so our penitent, by the abundance of 
 divine light which inundated his soul, thought he was 
 buried in the clouds of death. Surrounded by obscure 
 night he could not perceive a ray of light which might 
 bring the desired consolation to his soul. Yet these 
 severe and terrible sufferings were not sufficient to make 
 him halt a moment on his road. Fervent and observant, 
 he was the model of a. perfect religious ; and in the 
 midst of that bitter desolation he made gigantic strides 
 
ST. BENEDICT JOSEPH LABEE. 
 
 203 
 
 in tlie way of the just. But God wished Benedict, or 
 Urban, as he was called in the novitiate, to lead a solitary 
 life in the midst of the world, as an example to other men, 
 and sent him a serions illness, which determined his supe- 
 riors to dismiss him, with a certificate of piety, obedience, 
 and assiduity. He left in 1 7 70, after eight months’ novitiate. 
 
 And now we have him converted into a poor beggar, 
 a state which, by the divine will, he was to pre- 
 serve to the end of his days, though at first he tried 
 to enter some other religious house. Soon, however, he 
 renounced this intention. Led by the spirit of God, he 
 resolved to visit the more celebrated sanctuaries to 
 enliven his faith, and so he did. He went to Rome, 
 passing by Loretto and Asizium. Confiding in Divine 
 Providence, without any care or provision for the mor- 
 row, he spent entire days in prayer in the churches he 
 met. Content with his poverty, he never would receive 
 alms from needy persons, and also refused large sums 
 sometimes offered him by people of means. He never 
 kept anything for the following day, but gave all to the 
 other poor. He spent nine months in the capital of the 
 Christian world, devoutly visiting the shrines of the 
 martyrs and the principal churches, in which he spent 
 entire days and nights in prayer. Then he went to 
 Fabriano to honour the relics of St. Romualdus, the 
 founder of the Camaldulenses. He went through the 
 kingdom of Naples, stopping at Bari to venerate the 
 sacred remains of St. Nicholas, and at the church of St. 
 Michael in Mount Gargano, and other pious sanctuaries, 
 edifying all by his humble and mortified appearance, his 
 fervent piety, and his assiduity in prayer. Later on he 
 went to Our Lady of Einsiedlen, in Switzerland, visited 
 the principal churches of a great part of Germany, and 
 had the intention of coming to the tomb of St. James. 
 At last, docile to the voice of God, he fixed his residence 
 in Rome, and never left it except once a year that he 
 went to Loretto. In all these excursions he conducted 
 himself like a true anchoret, even in the most crowded 
 
204 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 streets, and dressed in the poorest possible way, with his 
 beads about his neck, as the sign of his servitude to the 
 Blessed Virgin. These long and almost continual pilgrim- 
 ages, performed in the midst of privations of every class, 
 suppose a strong will and solid virtue, sustained by an 
 ardent love of Jesus and a tender devotion to Mary. He 
 spent six years in these penances, with indescribable 
 spiritual fruit. He was afflicted when he saw the Lord 
 offended, or thought that any soul could be so blind as 
 to renounce the faith, or reject the doctrines of the 
 Catholic Church. The very name of heresy made him 
 tremble ; and, in order not to have to pass through hereti- 
 cal districts in his journeys, he took long and painful 
 
 roundabouts. 
 
 V. 
 
 When established in Rome, he spent the greater part 
 of the day in the churches, remaining long hours on his 
 knees, though he had sores on them. He recited the 
 divine office with great attention, and gave some time 
 to spiritual reading, enjoying particularly the works of 
 Fray Louis de Granada and the “ Imitation of Christ.” At 
 nightfall, after hearing the instruction given to the poor 
 in the Evangelical Hospice, he retired to his lodging. 
 In the ruined walls of the Colosseum, Flavian’s Amphi- 
 theatre, there was a hole large enough to contain a man 
 and protect him from the rain. This was our beggar’s 
 lodging for many years. But his health, never very 
 good, was soon completely broken. He took a swelling, 
 which would have soon brought him to the grave, if 
 another poor man, named Theodosius, had not secured 
 for him a better shelter in the Evangelical Hospice. 
 Here he rested at night the remainder of his penitential 
 life, serving as an example of mortification, piety, and 
 patience to the other poor inmates. He was never known 
 to enjoy any of the pleasures of sense, not even that of 
 hearing sacred music in any of the churches, and there never 
 escaped from his bps a jocose or idle word, much less a 
 calumny or a comjfiaint. In the midst of populous Rome, 
 
ST. BENEDICT JOSEPH LABRE. 
 
 205 
 
 in the centre of the Catholic world, he lived, completely 
 forgetfulof earth, emulating the solitude of the ancho- 
 rets of Egypt. As far as food was concerned, his con- 
 fessor had to oblige him to go once a- day to some 
 convent for soup, except Wednesdays, Eridays, and 
 Saturdays, when he allowed him to fast. On fast-days 
 he only ate at nightfall a few crumbs of bread moistened 
 in water. Wine he never tasted, except through obe- 
 dience, at Christmas, the last years of his life. In his 
 excursions to Loretto, after spending the day in the 
 church, praying, kneeling, or standing, he was content 
 with the offal of cabbage or lettuce which he gathered 
 on the street. He did it all in a spirit of mortification 
 and penance, and always refused any offers made him to 
 alleviate the condition which he himself had chosen at 
 the voice of God. To all offers he answered that he was 
 a poor man and needed nothing. One day Mr. Valeri 
 asked him : — “ Why do you lead so miserable a life when 
 you could meritoriously live in a way less incommodious 
 and painful ?” “God,’ ’ answered Benedict, “wishes to lead 
 me by this way.” His ordinary answer to such questions 
 was : — “ God wills it.” As regards piety, those poor had 
 in our beggar a perfect model outside and inside the house. 
 
 When reciting the Rosary with them, which he did 
 every night, ho remained the whole time on his knees, 
 motionless as a statue, and responding with the fervour 
 of a seraph. Sometimes he would lose his senses and 
 be carried away in ecstasy, to the great admiration of all. 
 He gave great example to his companions of love and 
 devotion to the Queen of Angels. He celebrated all her 
 feasts with great fervour. Besides the Rosary and other 
 devotions, he daily recited her Little Office, and visited 
 with particular affection the churches or chapels dedi- 
 cated in her honour. From his earliest years he had 
 selected the Virgin as his mother, and loved her with 
 filial affection. Nothing could be greater than this love, 
 except the love he had for Jesus. These loves, or rather 
 this love for Jesus and Mary, burned constantly in his 
 
206 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 soul, and did not allow liim to give his acquaintances 
 other salutation than: — “ Let us praise Jesus and Mary.” 
 
 VI. 
 
 The love of Jesus crucified was the object of his most 
 affectionate meditations. The more he considered the 
 sufferings of Jesus, the more was he inflamed with the 
 love of Jesus — a love which obliged him more than once 
 to exclaim, contemplating Jesus carrying the cross : — 
 “ To me, Lord, to me that cross belongs : it is I who 
 ought to bear it ! ” This love moved him to visit the 
 churches in which any relic of the passion was vene- 
 rated, and perform the Via Grucis on his knees. The 
 devotion he had to this salutary exercise was edifying. 
 Entertaining the most ardent charity for the blessed 
 souls in purgatory, for whom he thought he never could 
 do enough ; burning with the desire of imitating Jesus 
 Christ in His humiliation, pains, and sufferings ; con- 
 tinually resolving to omit no means of repairing the 
 injuries done the Saviour; asking at all hours for the 
 grace to bewail and expiate the sins of his brethren. 
 After the august sacrifice of the Mass, at which he 
 attended with edifying recollection, he found nothing 
 more efficacious than the devotion of the Via Crucis , en- 
 riched with so many graces by the Sovereign Pontiffs. 
 The Colosseum, where, as we said, he used to live, was 
 interiorly adorned with little chapels distributed in order, 
 with paintings representing the different stages of Cal- 
 vary. Benedict, availing himself of the occasion of 
 gaining the innumerable indulgences of this devout 
 exercise in favour of the blessed souls of purgatory, and 
 the plenary indulgence granted by Benedict XIV. to 
 those who did it in that place with a cross on their 
 shoulders, employed the greater part of the day in this 
 devotion, meditating fervently on the mysteries of the 
 Passion. He also employed a great part of the night at 
 it. Even when he removed his shelter thence, he did 
 
ST. BENEDICT JOSEPH LABRE. 
 
 207 
 
 not grow cold in tliis devotion, but rather appeared to 
 derive more consolation from visiting that holy spot and 
 repeating his pious practice. Hence the cardinals of 
 the Congregation of Rites ordered him to be painted in 
 the act of visiting these stations by night, so great was 
 the love he bore Jesus ; and this same love kept him 
 whole days before Jesus in the Holy Sacrament. Daily 
 he was to be found before Our Sovereign Lord mani- 
 fested in the forty hours, and no distance or weather 
 could prevent him from paying Jesus this tribute. There 
 he was in the morning at Mass, there in the evening 
 when the Blessed Sacrament was received ; so that he 
 came to be known as the “ Poor Man of the Forty 
 Hours.” His love, however, seemed to reach the pinnacle 
 of its perfection when he approached the sacred Table to 
 receive Jesus within his heart. He prepared himself 
 with great diligence for so great a favour, and when re- 
 ceiving could not contain his tears ; and his face, pale as 
 it was, became inflamed like a live coal. He spent the 
 whole day giving thanks to God for this benefit, and, when 
 he thought he was alone, would burst into ardent sighs to 
 relieve his burning heart. It was here he learned that 
 humility which made him shun every mark of respect 
 as a great danger, and seek for humiliation and con- 
 tempt, and that insatiable desire to suffer for the love 
 of Jesus. I will mention some facts in proof of his 
 humility and patience. 
 
 VIL 
 
 Passing one day through one of the squares of Rome, 
 he saw some idle, shameless young men engaged in 
 indecent games. The charitable servant of God ap- 
 proaches them, and says : “ My children, is that the 
 end for which God created you and preserves your lives ?” 
 Furious at these sweet words, they rise up against 
 him, load him with injuries, and attack him with 
 stones. A man took the beggar’s part against the pre- 
 cocious young rascals; but the faithful imitator of Jesus 
 
208 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 Christ would not allow him, saying : “ Perhaps if you. 
 knew who I am, you would treat me worse than these.” 
 
 Another time, when passing the square of Trajan’s 
 column, he was surrounded by a crowd of boys, who 
 mocked and maltreated him with blows and insults, 
 looking on him as a fool, but he bore all with the 
 greatest patience and without a single complaint. His 
 mortification and self-denial had no limits. Dead to 
 the world and self, he breathed only Jesus crucified. 
 
 The nearer he approached his end the more fervent 
 he grew, and though he endeavoured to conceal the ex- 
 traordinary graces with which God favoured him, and 
 prayed that they might not be made public, yet he could 
 not prevent being sometimes elevated in the air, or 
 surrounded by an aureola of light, by which the 
 Almighty manifested the sanctity of his servant. His 
 prayer was continual, solely interrupted by the per- 
 formance of some work of mercy, if it could be said to 
 be interrupted at all, for even when eating and sleeping 
 he was praying. In the short time he reposed at night he 
 would continually utter fervent aspirations, for his com- 
 panions testified that they never awoke without hearing 
 him mutter these or like ejaculations: “ Jesus, mercy ! 
 Pardon, my God : inflame me in the fire of Thy love ! ” 
 The Lord had given him the gift of prophecy, of which 
 he sometimes availed himself for the good of souls. 
 
 He met, on a certain occasion, one of those young 
 men, who, far from blushing at their disorders, made a 
 boast of them. Benedict approached him, and said, 
 with ineffable sweetness and charity: * ‘ My son, you are at 
 enmity with God. Endeavour as soon as possible to make 
 a good confession, for you are very near your death.” 
 The young man laughed at the beggar’s simplicity, and 
 mocked him as a fanatic ; but, unhappily, the prediction 
 was soon fulfilled, and the unhappy man died impenitent. 
 
 More fortunate was another person, who was griev- 
 ously attacked by a temptation of the devil. “ Brother,” 
 said the servant of God to him, “ drive away those 
 
ST. BENEDICT JOSEPH LABRE. 
 
 209 
 
 thoughts, for they are a diabolical temptation.” The 
 man tempted was thinking of abandoning his wife, and 
 with this advice from heaven he entered on the path of 
 salvation. He foretold to his confessor, weeping, the 
 honours which would be paid himself after his death, 
 descending to minute particulars. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 On Spy-Wednesday, the 16th of April, 1783, after 
 spending Lent in the exercise of rigorous penance, he 
 fainted from weakness on the steps of the Church of 
 Our Lady of the Mountains in Rome, and was carried 
 to the house of his friend, Sr. Zacarelli, and while they 
 were reciting the Litany of the Blessed Virgin for him, 
 he rested in the peace of the Lord. “ The saint is dead,” 
 cried all, “ the poor saint is dead.’’ An immense con- 
 course hastened to venerate the martyr of penance. His 
 body, exposed for five days to public veneration, pre- 
 * served its freshness and flexibility without the slightest 
 indication of putrefaction. Everything occurred as he 
 had foretold, notwithstanding the precautions to the 
 | contrary. The Lord glorified his memory by working 
 I miracles at his intercession, and soon his grave became 
 the object of universal veneration. 
 
 Some incredulists, however, mocked at the servant 
 of God as a lazy, idle person ; as if to live constantly in 
 prayer to intercept the bolts of divine vengeance ready 
 to be discharged on a corrupt world were a thing of 
 little importance, and should be regarded as an idle 
 exercise ; as if to follow the will of God, clearly made 
 known, giving heroic examples of humility, meekness, 
 and all other virtues, were a life reprehensible and ste- 
 rile to the world ! This is the belief of men truly 
 \ indolent and without the fear of God. This was the 
 1 belief of Mr. Thayer, an Anglican minister, who was m 
 Rome in 1783, when the Sacred Congregation of Rites 
 gave the beggar the title of venerable. But the number 
 of miracles reported of the servant of God, and daily on 
 the increase, excited the minister’s curiosity and induced 
 
 14 
 
210 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 him to examine them himself -with scrupulous care. 
 For this purpose he interrogated the persons on whom 
 they were wrought, he inquired into all the circum- 
 stances, he consulted the doctors who had attended 
 them, and he could do no less than confess that there 
 was something supernatural in those cures. Surprised 
 and strangely agitated was the minister on discovering 
 the truth of the Catholic religion in the life and miracles 
 of a poor beggar. At last, conquering himself and his 
 prejudices, he abjured his errors and embraced Catho- 
 licity, as the only anchor of salvation. His conversion 
 worked radical changes in his soul. “ The truths,” he 
 said, “ which formerly I had the greatest difficulty in 
 believing, are those that now afford me the greatest 
 consolation. The mystery of the Eucharist, which ap- 
 peared to me absurd, has been converted into an inex- 
 haustible mine of spiritual delights. Confession, which 
 formerly I looked on as an intolerable yoke, appears to 
 me infinitely sweet on account of the peace it commu- 
 nicates to my soul. Ah !” he exclaimed, “ if heretics 
 and infidels could only feel the sweetness experienced 
 at foot of the altar, soon would they cease to be so.” 
 Before he returned to America, his native country, 
 ordained priest in 1787, he was a year in London, in the 
 district where the poor and the beggars congregate. 
 He lived poor like them, he built them two schools, he 
 preached to them in a ruined factory which served him 
 as a church, and converted a great number from sin to 
 grace and from Protestantism to the true Faith. They 
 loved him as a father, and joyfully brought him stray 
 sheep day by day. Then he went to Boston, and was a 
 true apostle of the Catholic religion. Such was the 
 recompense with which our beggar repaid from heaven 
 the mockery with which he had insulted him, and 
 which later on was washed out in tears of true repent- 
 ance. Pius IX., in view of his heroic virtues and 
 numerous miracles, beatified poor Labre on the 20th 
 May, 1860, and on the 10th of February, 1873, enrolled 
 him in the catalogue of saints. 
 
ST. LIDUVINA. 
 
 211 
 
 ST. LIDUVINA, NIGHT-WATCHMAN’S 
 DAUGHTER. 
 
 I. 
 
 In this glorious virgin was seen how much a mortal 
 creature, aided by divine grace, could do ; for, consi- 
 dering the weakness of human nature, it appears totally 
 impossible that a frail woman could have suffered the 
 tortures and pains that afflicted our saint. Clothed 
 with supernatural virtue, Liduvina showed us the path 
 we should pursue, if we wish to enjoy any consolation 
 in this rough exile when broken down by loss of health 
 and other infirmities. She was born in Eschieda, 
 a county of Holland, of poor but honest and pious 
 parents. Her father, named Peter, was a night-watch- 
 man of the town ; her mother, Petronila, a native of 
 Ketet, was a prudent and industrious woman. They 
 had eight sons besides Liduvina, who was the fifth fruit 
 of their union. It may be said that she began to suffer 
 from her very cradle the painful infirmities which were 
 to be the patrimony of her whole life. Her virtuous mo- 
 ther, ever solicitous for the consolation of her daughter, 
 tried every remedy, and above all, endeavoured to 
 plant in the child’s heart the seed of heroic virtues. 
 
 With her mother’s milk she drank in a tender devo- 
 tion to the Queen of Angels, so that the first words she 
 lisped were the sweet names of Jesus and Mary. When 
 her parents went to visit an image of the Blessed 
 Virgin, held in great devotion by the people of Eschieda, 
 she always wished to follow them, though scarcely able 
 to walk, from her tender years. All the good examples 
 she saw in the family were indelibly engraved on her 
 little heart. When she was a little bigger, and was 
 sent by her mother with her brother’s dinner, she often 
 went into the church, going or coming, to pay her 
 respects to the Sovereign Queen. Her mother some- 
 times scolded her, and called her a lazy girl for the 
 delay, but she would disarm her thus : “ Don’t be angry 
 
212 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 mother, for 1 only paid a visit to the Blessed Virgin, 
 and she was very kind to me.” With such answers the 
 mother was appeased, and endeavoured to increase the 
 pious sentiments of her daughter. 
 
 When over twelve years of age, as she was a girl of 
 extreme beauty and expert in domestic affairs, she was 
 looked after by several rich youths, who asked her for 
 wife of her father. He at last, influenced by the con- 
 tinual entreaties of one of them, who could give her a 
 good position, which would free her from the dangers 
 of the world, earnestly proposed the matter to Lidu- 
 vina. But she answered with modesty and submis- 
 sion : “ Father, if you love me, I beseech you to allow 
 me to keep for God the treasure of my virginity.” Her 
 father did not wish to annoy her further, though now 
 and again he repeated tbe matter, to see if she remained 
 firm in her resolution ; but the holy virgin always per- 
 sisted in her answer, frequently praying God to remove 
 such thoughts from her father’s mind. When Petro- 
 nila heard what was going on, she solemnly disapproved 
 of it, as well on account of her daughter’s youth as for 
 the pleasure it gave her to think she should consecrate 
 herself to God. And so resolved was Liduvina in her 
 noble intention, that, weeping, she told her mother, 
 in case her father should insist on her marrying, she 
 would pray to God to make her so ugly that no young 
 man w T ould look after her. The holy virgin was re- 
 doubling her prayers, she was becoming more attached 
 to retirement, she was daily conceiving a deeper con- 
 tempt for the vanities of the world, when the Lord 
 visited her with an accident, which became the source 
 of pains and sufferings during her mortal career. 
 
 II. 
 
 On the western side of Eschiedaruns the River Moea, 
 which empties itself into the sea not far from the town. 
 To this river, frozen the greater part of winter, the 
 youth of the town used to come to skate. On the 
 
ST. LIDUVINA. 
 
 213 
 
 glassy surface of the ice various groups were making 
 rapid and difficult evolutions. Some female friends of 
 Liduvina, then fifteen years of age, invited her to go to 
 skate. She refused, notwithstanding that they re- 
 minded her of the lovely evening the Lord had sent 
 them ; but in the end, when asked to go at least to look 
 on, she yielded and accompanied them to the river. 
 Now her companions were flying like arrows over the 
 ice, and Liduvina, to warm herself, was putting on her 
 skates, when one of her companions, in her rapid flight, 
 collided with the saint, and, throwing her down, broke 
 one of her ribs. Now began the weeping and lamen- 
 tation. They carried her home, and the doctors con- 
 sulted for the relief of the poor thing, but all in vain. 
 God wished to try in the crucible of tribulation His 
 servant and her Christian family. After spending on me- 
 dicine and surgeons all they had, they daily found her 
 getting worse. Her pains grew more intense, and in the 
 end a large abscess grew in the place of the wound. 
 
 A famous doctor, a great lover of the poor, assured 
 the afflicted parents that all they might spend would be 
 useless, for he saw something supernatural in their 
 daughter’s illness which all the medical men in the 
 world could not cure, for they are useless in opposition 
 to the divine will. Destitute now of human hope, they 
 had no remedy but to turn their eyes to the Father of 
 mercies in search of consolation. Great as her resig- 
 nation was, the poor sick girl, from the intensity of the 
 pains, could not do less than relieve herself in groans, 
 lamentations, and contortions, which moved all who 
 saw her to pity. One day her pious and patient father 
 was sitting at her bed- head consoling and animating 
 her to suffer with resignation to the divine will ; but 
 the stings of the abscess increasing, the patient uttered 
 groans and sighs ; and, beside herself from intense 
 pain, she threw herself out of the bed into her father’s 
 arms. The fall broke the tumour, but interiorly ; and 
 then immediately followed terrible vomitings and retch' 
 
214 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 ings, which brought tears to the eyes of the bystanders. 
 All her members soon swelled : she could scarcely move 
 except on hands and feet, and even this with acute 
 pain. All food caused her disgust and nausea, and if 
 she tasted anything she immediately 'threw it off with 
 great torment. She only felt a keen longing to drink dirty 
 water, to eat earth, and such like things. Liduvina had 
 become another Job, despised of men but dear to God. 
 
 One day two bullies were fighting in front of the sick 
 girl’s house, and one of them, escaping from the other’s 
 sword, took refuge in it. Thither, also, ran the 
 aggressor, thirsting for blood. “ Where is he ?” he 
 asked Petronila, “ where is this son of death ?” Petro- 
 nila, seeing him pale and drunk with vengeance, tre- 
 mulously denied that he entered the house. The 
 assassin, however, went into the sick girl’s room, and 
 inquired for his enemy. “ He is here,” answered the 
 saint. At these words the other was appeased, and left 
 without doing or trying to do any damage. Notwith- 
 standing the unexpected effect, Petronila was enraged, 
 and harshly struck her daughter, saying : “ How dare you 
 discover on the poor fellow who was flying from death ?” 
 The humble daughter, receiving the chastisement with 
 resignation, reverently answered : “ I beg your pardon, 
 mother, but I believed that God would sooner free him 
 if I told the truth than if I uttered a lie.” The mother 
 was calmed by this mild answer, and was, at the same 
 time, taught how pleasing sincerity is to God. 
 
 III. 
 
 In the meantime the patient grew worse. She had a 
 complication of diseases — lungs, liver, kidneys, head and 
 throat were grievously afflicted, and even maggots grew 
 in incredible numbers in several parts of her body : she 
 became so ill that she was unable to receive the Holy 
 Eucharist, and she was covered with sores from head to 
 foot, so that she could get no rest by night or day, and 
 she lasted in this state for thirty-eight years. Her 
 
ST. LIDUVINA. 
 
 215 
 
 family’s resources were now exhausted, and they had to 
 beg alms at their neighbours’ doors, and not always did 
 they meet with charitable souls. They sent one time 
 to a rich man, named P. Andrews, for the fat of a 
 chicken, and though he had several prepared for a 
 splendid banquet he was giving, more anxious about 
 his guests than the poor of Jesus Christ, he refused, with 
 insult. The hand is not closed on the poor with imp unit}'. 
 1 n just chastisement of his avarice and want of pity for 
 the afflicted, when the birds prepared for the grand dinner 
 came to table they were found to be covered with maggots. 
 
 With this accumulation of ills, what wonder that the 
 suffering virgin, when she heard her companions laugh- 
 ing and diverting themselves on the street, should burst 
 into tears, and even sometimes make her poor dwelling 
 resound with her groans and lamentations ? The saints 
 are not made of iron : they are men like ourselves, 
 mortal, passible, and subject to the miseries of life. 
 But the Lord, who never afflicts us without the corres- 
 ponding aid, sent to His devout servant a holy man 
 named John Pot, to open to her the source of true con- 
 solation to be found in the passion of Jesus Christ. He 
 visited her one day, and on witnessing her indescribable 
 torments, “ Daughter,” he said to her, “ have confidence 
 in God, who alone can console you. Frequently consider 
 the interior and exterior sufferings of our Redeemer, His 
 poverty, His humility, His persecutions, His agony, His 
 desolation, and you shall see how little is all we can suffer, 
 great as our pains may be. God sends great crosses to 
 whomsoever He loves, for in the cross is our treasure. Let 
 us, then, follow in the footsteps of Christ, laden with our 
 cross, and we shall feel true consolation.” The afflicted 
 patient promised to follow his good counsel ; but, despite 
 her good intention, when she felt attacked by the intense 
 pains of her many and complicated diseases, she could 
 only think of her lamentations and groans. “ How, 
 father,” she said to her director, “ can I think of those 
 good things when the agony of death is on me, and I 
 
216 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 neither see nor feel anything but my pains, which blot 
 from my memory your salutary and consoling advice ?” 
 “ Courage, my daughter,” answered the zealous priest ; 
 “ everything is not done in a day : the crown is only 
 promised to the persevering ; if you try, according to 
 your strength, to suffer like a good Christian, your 
 eternal reward shall not be small.” The poor sick girl 
 was animated by the exhortations of the good minister 
 of Jesus, and in the practice of his counsel she began to 
 taste the sweetness of the cross and feel a dislike for 
 human consolations, and avoid vain and idle conversa- 
 tions, from which she formerly derived some comfort. 
 
 IY. 
 
 One day the fervent priest brought her Communion, 
 and, taking the Sacred Host in his hand, he addressed to 
 her, with great unction, these few words : “ On other 
 occasions, my daughter, I exhorted you to keep before 
 you the passion of our Lord Jesus Christ ; and now this 
 same Lord, who suffered and died for us, comes in person 
 to speak to you as to His beloved daughter. If you act 
 as such, your reward will be ineffable.” At these words 
 the virgin burst into loud sobs, not now from the pain of 
 her sufferings, but from consolation and a sweetness she 
 had not experienced till then. After this grace her heart 
 was so consoled, that for fifteen days she could not repress 
 her tears when she recollected it ; and, full of a martyr’s 
 energy, she asked no longer that her sufferings might 
 be mitigated but increased, that she might give greater 
 proofs of love for Jesus Christ. Her distaste for corporal 
 food continued, but she experienced an extraordinary 
 hunger for the Sacred Eucharist, and desired to receive 
 it as often as possible. As Liduvina, from midway in her 
 sickness did not taste human food, it is believed she was 
 miraculously sustained by the bread of angels, who often 
 came down from heaven to administer it and console her. 
 
 Her good director’s counsels now began to produce 
 fruit. She felt great alleviation and consolation in 
 
ST. LIDUY] NA. 
 
 217 
 
 thinking of the passion of Jesus Christ, which she had 
 distributed over the different hours of the day, with the 
 object of reflecting on them with more facility and 
 advantage. With this celestial comfort, though her 
 pains sometimes made her grind her teeth, she no longer 
 uttered cries and laments, as they only served to her as 
 monitors to raise her heart to Jesus crucified. It must 
 have cost her a great effort to refrain from even a sigh 
 or a groan, but with Grod’s help she triumphed and gave 
 Him thanks for judging her worthy to suffer something 
 for His love. When asked once “ What would she do to 
 be free from so terrible a martyrdom?” she answered, 
 that, “ Though she could be cured by saying one Hail 
 Mary, she would not do so, that she might, in her suffer- 
 ings, have an opportunity of better imitating our Divine 
 Saviour.” Considering, during a carnival, the unspeak- 
 able torments our Redeemer suffered for us, and the in- 
 gratitude of men who, during these days, commit such 
 excesses against Him, she generously offered herself to 
 the Lord to make atonement for them. Jesus accepted 
 her offer, and sent her so atrocious a pain in the leg, that 
 from Quinquagesima Sunday to Easter she did not 
 venture to ask for more. On another occasion, when 
 the Lord was scourging the people with a plague, she 
 asked Him to lift His angry hand off the country and 
 discharge its vengeance on her, by sending her new suffer- 
 ings. The Lord heard her prayer, and inflicted two new 
 sores on her, one under the heart and the other in the 
 throat ; and the saint, desiring a third wound in honour 
 of the Holy Trinity, she received it in the cheek, which 
 remained during life, even when the others had healed. 
 
 Her life was a continual miracle. Despite the corrupt 
 matter which flowed from her many sores, there was no 
 foul smell : on the contrary, a soft fragrance was felt in 
 the room, for which no one could assign a natural cause. 
 And how, without a continual miracle, could Liduvina 
 live without food or sleep ? On the report of such 
 wonders many persons came to visit her in her humble 
 
218 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 d welling 1 , and see the living martyr, prostrated like 
 another Job, rather on the dunghill than in bed. They 
 did not all come with the same intention. Some went 
 from mere cnriosity to see the living image of death, 
 others to seek proofs in support of their calumnies and 
 show her up as an impostor and hypocrite, and very few 
 with the object of improving themselves by her example 
 and saintly conversation. She gave audience to those 
 who sought it, during the short respites allowed her by 
 her fever fits. From her lowly bed she exercised the 
 zeal of an apostle, endeavouring to draw her visitors to 
 G-od by her exhortations. As she had received from 
 God the grace of penetrating spirits, she manifested to 
 those in mortal sin the wounds of their souls, and warned 
 them of the sufferings of hell. The good she animated 
 to continue in the path of virtue, trampling on human 
 respect, and keeping their passions down. To all she gave 
 laudable advice suited to the state and condition of each. 
 She consoled the afflicted by encouraging them to suffer 
 for Jesus Christ with the hope of eternal enjoyment. 
 She exhorted girls to fly idleness and vain amusements 
 as the incentives of incontinence. She recommended to 
 widows retirement and industry, and piety towards God 
 and the poor. She advised the married to live in peace 
 and mutual love, and to avoid stories and slanders, the 
 poison of Christian concord. And to all she dwelt on 
 the importance of fulfilling the divine precepts and fre- 
 quenting the holy sacraments, as the inexhaustible source 
 of consolation and strength. 
 
 Y. 
 
 The Lord now visited our saint with another cross. 
 Eight years was she lying in bed, attended by her 
 Christian parents, who had sacrificed their all for their 
 beloved daughter ; but it pleased God to deprive her of 
 this human consolation by taking her mother from her. 
 The poor woman, though she had always been a good 
 Christian and feared God, yet, when she found herself 
 
ST. LIDUVINA. 
 
 219 
 
 sick and remembered the vanities of youth, and con- 
 sidered that the hour was approaching when she should 
 stand before the tribunal of divine justice, was alarmed 
 at the rigorous account she should have to render, and 
 asked her daughter to recommend her earnestly to God, 
 that she might die happy. Liduvina, who loved her 
 with tenderest affection, consoled her like a good 
 daughter, and told her she would not only pray to God 
 for her, but from that moment made her a present of all 
 her pains, sores, sufferings, prayers, and everything that 
 in her life might be pleasing to God. Comforted by this 
 offering, and full of confidence in the divine mercy, the 
 poor woman slept the sleep of the just. 
 
 Nevertheless, the family felt desolation at the loss of 
 such a treasure. Poor old Peter, who was now unable 
 to act as watchman, and was unwilling to avail himself 
 of the alms offered to the sick girl, was steeped in 
 poverty and extreme misery. But the Lord, who never 
 abandons the humble, amply provided for the venerable 
 old man. William, the pious Count of Holland, went to 
 visit Liduvina, and calling her father apart, said to 
 him : “ Through reverence for your daughter, ask of me 
 whatever you require for the support of your old age, 
 and your desires will be satisfied.” “Illustrious prince,” 
 he answered, “ I have never had riches, nor do I desire 
 them, for I see that death deprives of all : twelve dollars 
 a year will be enough for me to live on.” The count 
 ordered his treasurer to give him what he required, and 
 told the old man to apply to him in all his wants. The 
 devout old man, seeing in this the singular providence 
 of the Lord, gave thanks to God, dedicated himself with 
 more fervour to the divine service, and distributed 
 among the poor any surplus he had. Though he fre- 
 quently had Mass in the house, and was very decrepid 
 and half blind, he yet went with tottering step and grop- 
 ing his way to the church to hear more Masses and pray 
 for his benefactor. Liduvina, fearing some accident 
 might happen, besought him not to leave the house, 
 
220 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 where he could, with safety and ease, recommend himself 
 to God ; but the pious man wished to offer to the Lord 
 that little sacrifice, and continued his religious practice. 
 
 One evening, when the good watchman was going to 
 vespers, he met one whom he took to be an intimate and 
 old friend. “ And where are you going, Peter ?” said 
 the latter. “ Come and take the fresh air, and then we 
 shall both go to the church together.” The innocent 
 old man fell into the devil’s trap, who had taken the 
 form of his friend, and they went out together. The 
 devil wished to try the virtue of Liduvina, as he did 
 formerly that of Job, by destroying his family. When 
 outside the town they reached a pit full of water, and 
 the enemy gave him a push into it and disappeared. 
 The poor old man tried to escape from the imminent 
 danger of drowning, but if a carman had not passed by 
 and rescued him half dead, he would undoubtedly have 
 perished. The news of the misfortune was carried to the 
 sick girl, but almost immediately her father arrived, and 
 her grief was turned into joy when she saw him safe. Her 
 love for him was very great, and she tried by every means 
 in her power to make his earthly trials as light as possible. 
 
 Ho wonder she should be solicitous about her own, 
 she who was so liberal and generous to strangers. Her 
 mother had left her some trinkets and valuables, and she 
 sold them and gave their price to the poor. Despite her 
 poverty, and it was a pity to see her lying in bed with 
 scarcely sufficient clothes for decency, much less to pro- 
 tect her from the cold, which in winter often made her 
 shiver, it may yet be said she was the alleviation of the 
 needy, the mother of the orphan, and the right arm 
 of the neglected. When devout people, in compassion 
 for her sufferings, sent her alms, she looked on herself 
 as only the agent in the case, and gave the surplus, 
 which was nearly all she got, in charity to the poor, 
 particularly to those who were ashamed to beg, and to 
 poor women in labour. The Lord failed not to manifest, 
 even miraculously, how pleasing to Him were the self- 
 
ST. LIDUVINA. 
 
 221 
 
 denial and the generosity of the holy virgin. Among 
 many occasions on which He multiplied the treasure of 
 the poor, one was on the death of her brother William, 
 whom she dearly loved. He had left several children, 
 oppressed with debt. Their loving aunt sold some valu- 
 ables that still remained to her, put the money in a 
 purse, and gave it to her nephew Nicholas to take from 
 it what would pay the creditors. The young man took 
 it, satisfied all demands, and in the end found in the 
 purse the same sum that had been put in it. As this 
 miraculous phenomenon was repeated several times, the 
 charitable patient called it “ the purse of Jesus,” for no 
 matter how much she took from it for the support of the 
 needy it was never empty. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Jesus also, in a pleasant vision, showed her how 
 agreeable to Him alms-giving was. She was carried one 
 day in spirit to heaven, where, besides the army of the 
 blessed, emitting torrents of light, and presided over by 
 the Saviour and His Blessed Mother, she also saw rich 
 tables covered with cloths of silk and gold, and spark- 
 ling with celestial adornments, on which the angels were 
 depositing the alms given to the poor. There she saw 
 the water given to the thirsty placed in golden cups, the 
 clothes sent to the naked preserved in beautiful baskets 
 of filigree, the money distributed to the needy enclosed in 
 boxes made of rubies and diamonds, the tears she had dried 
 converted into pearls of ineffable beauty, and in the same 
 way all the other works of Christian charity represented 
 by some unexpected symbol. Filled with enthusiasm at 
 this, and enamoured of the inexplicable reward which 
 the Lord has prepared for the almsgiver who dies in His 
 divine grace, she never ceased to recommend generosity 
 and liberality to a poor neighbour. As Tobias did to his son, 
 so this charitable virgin exhorted all to give much to the 
 poor if they had much ; and if little, even of that little to 
 distribute something to the indigent. But she was not con- 
 
222 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 tent with the corporal alms alone, but always accompanied 
 it with some good advice intended to improve their morals. 
 
 We have already seen the interest she took in the spi- 
 ritual welfare of those who visited her. Among those 
 who now and again frequented her house was a woman 
 of bad life, who was a stumbling-block to several. It is 
 wonderful how she laboured to bring her to the right 
 path, often revealing to her her most secret thoughts 
 and designs ; but all was useless, for, blinded by her 
 disorders, she could not be brought to see the eternal 
 torments, which her momentary and base pleasures 
 would cost her. The zealous patient also warned a 
 young man involved in the nets of that evil woman, but 
 her charitable efforts were all lost on him. At last the 
 unfortunate daughter of Babylon died, and the young 
 man went to the saint and asked her if she knew the fate 
 of the deceased. The chaste virgin answered : “ Do you 
 wish to see her with your own eyes ? ” He answered, 
 “Yes;” and Liduvina, commencing to pray fervently, 
 they were both rapt in spirit, and immediately saw in the 
 distance a troop of infernal spirits coming and dragging 
 along the unfortunate woman. Loaded with irons, emit- 
 ting fire from eyes and mouth, converted into a burning 
 torch, she was uttering fearful screams and lamenta- 
 tions. . . . The young man afterwards told his friends 
 that, without the special aid of God, he should have died 
 of terror and dread at seeing his mistress converted into 
 a horrid devil. But, in spite of all, in spite of so terrible 
 a warning, in spite of the entreaties and charitable 
 advice of the patient, regarding the vision as a witchery 
 of the saint only to be laughed at, he remained hardened 
 in his vices, and died as he had lived, a slave of Satan. 
 Oh ! how true is that saying of our Saviour, mentioned 
 in the history of Lazarus, to the effect that if they will 
 not hear the voice of the Church, neither would they be- 
 lieve the very damned if they returned to advise them. 
 
 The loss of these unhappy wretches deeply afflicted 
 the saint’s heart, ready, as she herself assured her sweet 
 
ST. LIDUVINA. 
 
 223 
 
 Jesus, ready to endure the martyrdom of her sufferings 
 to the Day of Judgment for the conversion of one 
 sinner. This she longed for, this she constantly prayed 
 for ; and that her prayers might he the more acceptable 
 to the Lord, she avoided the slightest fault, and the 
 moment she felt she had made the smallest slip, whether 
 in an idle word or a foolish complaint, or anything else, 
 she immediately confessed it with bitter tears of re- 
 pentance. Nor did she take less care of the other 
 virtues, particularly of the foundation of all, humility. 
 She obeyed all, she wished to be despised by all, from 
 all she received with equal sweetness advice and warn- 
 ing. With a sovereign condescension, the Lord im- 
 pressed the sacred stigmata on her hands, feet, and side ; 
 but Liduvina, to avoid vain-glory, asked Him to let her 
 feel the sufferings without the exterior wounds. But 
 the person she practised humility with most was a 
 sister-in-law of hers. She was a noisy, harsh, ill- 
 tempered woman, and so wicked that she heaped insults 
 on the poor sick creature, and sometimes spat in her 
 face without remorse The patient virgin suffered it all 
 in silence, and when once asked why she put up with 
 such treatment she answered : “We should bear it with 
 patience, that our example may make the poor people 
 enter into themselves and acknowledge their fault, that 
 we who need it may copy their virtue. Besides, by 
 suffering, we do not give them occasion to become 
 more angry and offend God more grievously.” This 
 she learned from her continual meditation on the suf- 
 ferings of Jesus Christ, which caused her to rejoice so 
 much in her pains, humiliations, and want of all things, 
 that her poor hut appeared to her a palace : the sack- 
 cloth with which she mortified her afflicted body a rich 
 garment, her sores precious pearls, and all her other 
 torments pleasures of heaven. She was asked once if 
 she had sufficient for her wants, and she said she had 
 more than enough. When those present who knew her 
 poverty replied that what she said could not be true, 
 
224 
 
 LIGHT FEOM THE LOWLY. 
 
 she answered : “He has plenty to spare who is content 
 with what he has and desires to divide with the poor.” 
 
 Some persons were once in pions conversation with 
 the sick girl, and said to her that the Lord should 
 comfort her much, for otherwise she could not have 
 borne so much suffering. “ It is true, my friends,” 
 she answered, “ that Liduvina, the little wretch, could 
 not last so long if the Lord did not comfort her with 
 the crumbs that fall from His table.” But it was not 
 with crumbs but with splendid banquets that the Lord 
 supported His fervent servant. She had sweet and 
 familiar intercourse with the angels guardian, who 
 brought her tidings of her beloved Jesus and of the 
 Virgin Mary. Her own angel, to make her meditation 
 on the sufferings of our Saviour more easy, often carried 
 her in spirit to J erusalem, and showed her, one by one, the 
 places where Jesus suffered, so that she could in spirit 
 kiss the spots sanctified by the footsteps of the Redeemer, 
 and, like Magdalen, water them with tears of love and 
 penance. A God-fearing widow, named Catherine, to 
 whom, as an intimate friend, the saint sometimes re- 
 counted the favours God did her, earnestly entreated 
 her to use her influence with God to let her see, if it 
 were only once, the angel that visited her. Liduvina 
 consented ; and hearing from the angel himself that the 
 Lord would grant the favour, she notified her friend to 
 prepare for it. The two were together in the room, 
 when the angel appeared in the form of a beautiful 
 young man, his face radiant as the sun, his garments 
 white as snow, and covered with gold, emeralds, pearls, 
 and other precious stones of immense value. The 
 widow was enchanted at sight of the heavenly mes- 
 senger, when, at the request of the sick girl, the angel 
 turned to her, and with that sole look she was filled 
 with ineffable sweetness. The poor woman cried with 
 delight, and to enjoy but a few instants more that en- 
 trancing pleasure, she would willingly have given all 
 the pleasures and delights of the world if she had them 
 
ST. LIDUYINA. 
 
 225 
 
 in her power. The recollection of this helped to en- 
 courage Catherine to serve the good Jesus with all her 
 strength, “for if all the goods of earth,” she said, 
 “ are despicable in comparison with the smallest of glory, 
 what will it be to enjoy for eternities without end the 
 Source of all goodness, of all beauty, the centre of all 
 felicity — our Lord God ?” 
 
 She also was sometimes visited by our Saviour and 
 His Blessed Mother, who would animate her to suffer 
 her pains and infirmities in imitation of them. In 
 glory the slightest act of resignation and conformity to 
 the divine Avill would yet be of more value than all the 
 visits and extraordinary favours with which the Lord 
 sweetened her sufferings. In one of the apparitions 
 Jesus presented Himself with a wreath of flowers in 
 His hand, as a symbol of the reward with which He 
 would crown her patience. He gave her, however, to 
 understand that it was necessary to perfect it yet with 
 new pearls and other adornments. This stimulated the 
 poor girl to live with more recollection, and to suffer her 
 trials with greater patience. One of its most precious 
 jewels was to come through another channel. Some of 
 the domestics of Philip, Count of Burgundy, came, 
 and, under pretence of examining the reality of the re- 
 ports about the saint, not only indecently looked at her 
 body covered with sores, but inflicted a wound on her 
 to satisfy themselves of the truth of her dropsy. They 
 maltreated a niece of the saint, who tried to defend her 
 aunt, throwing her on the ground and injuring her very 
 much. The patient Liduvina calmly received this as 
 she did all her injuries, and would not allow anyone to 
 bring an accusation against the delinquents. But the 
 Almighty took the chastisement into His own hands, 
 and punished them in this and the next world for it. In 
 reward of this heroic act of patience and fortitude, Jesus 
 appeared to her with the wreath perfectly finished, as 
 if to indicate how pleased He was with her meekness, 
 and that the day of her departure was approaching. 
 
226 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 VIL 
 
 The Lord deprived her of these visits whenever she 
 incurred any, even the slightest, imperfection. This 
 happened, for instance, in the extreme grief she felt for 
 the death of a brother of hers, and later on for that of 
 her favourite niece, Petronila. She prepared herself, 
 therefore, to bear with more perfect moderation the 
 death of her dearly- beloved father. The poor thing 
 was almost dreading the approach of the feast of the 
 Immaculate Conception of Mary; for the good watch-man 
 had told her that the Blessed Virgin had promised to 
 take him on that day. And so it happened, after a life 
 full of merit acquired by labour and the practices of 
 piety. This time the saint bore her loss with great re- 
 signation, as she had a moral certainty that the pious 
 old man had ended his days clothed in divine grace. 
 But she did not neglect to pray for his eternal repose, 
 as she always did for the blessed souls of purgatory. 
 For them she offered her pains, and that God might 
 liberate them from their terrible prison, she sometimes 
 offered to suffer for them all the pains the Lord might 
 be pleased to send her. 
 
 Her angel guardian occasionally accompanied her in 
 a visit to these dreadful prisons destined to purify souls 
 from all stain, and make them worthy to enter into the 
 sanctuary of justice and sanctity, and there she saw 
 them enduring all kinds of suffering. Now and again 
 a kind of dew fell on them to soften their torments, and 
 this was the prayers and good works of the just, which 
 ascended in a cloud to the throne of the Most High. 
 The Lord, who accepted the satisfactions which Lidu- 
 vina offered for them on her bed of pain, sometimes 
 manifested to her the joy and delight with which, when 
 freed from those torments by the merits of pious souls, 
 they flew to the bosom of God to be submerged in an 
 ocean of felicity and happiness. The saint used to say 
 that, on the greater festivals of the Church, when the 
 faithful, after confession and Communion, are accus- 
 
ST. LIDUVINA. 
 
 227 
 
 tomed to pray with more than usual fervour for the 
 dead, w^s when the greater number went to sing the 
 divine praises. Hence we should never allow a principal 
 feast of J esns or Mary to pass without receiving the 
 Bread of Angels, after a good confession, with the 
 object of gaining merits and indulgences for the rescue 
 of our deceased brethren. When the malign spirits saw 
 the fervour with which Liduvina prayed for her father’s 
 soul, they availed themselves of this solicitude to disturb 
 her peace and tranquillity of mind. They appeared to 
 her, screaming that they already had in their clutches 
 the author of her days ; but the servant of Grod, firmly 
 convinced that her father was in heaven, both because he 
 had died as a good Christian, andón account of the prayers 
 offered m suffrage for his soul, despised these efforts of 
 the father of lies, laughed at the noise and screams of 
 his agents, and routed them from her presence. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Liduvina sent forth new rays of light as she was 
 approaching her end. In the last years of her life, as 
 if what she suffered up to that were not enough, all her 
 old ailments were renewed, and others added. But her 
 trial was short ; for, some time before she died, the Lord 
 restored to her some members she had almost lost, and 
 this made her prepare for her last hour, which Jesus 
 had revealed to her. Near her end now, she gathered 
 the family around her bed, and humbly asked pardon 
 for any disedification or offence she might have given, 
 and promised, if the Lord should take her to glory, to 
 intercede for the eternal salvation of all. She had well- 
 founded hopes that she should soon fly to the embrace 
 of her beloved Jesus. He had appeared to her, attended 
 by His Blessed Mother, the holy Apostles, her angel 
 guardian, and other happy spirits, who had come to 
 witness her Extreme Unction. Jesus stood at the sick 
 girl’s right, and Mary at her left, and the holy oils- 
 
228 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 being arranged on a rich table by the angels themselves, 
 a cross appeared in the midst, shedding refulgent rays 
 of mysterious light. Then Jesus, the Eternal Priest, 
 advanced and anointed the saint Himself, giving her 
 new strength for the last struggle against the powers 
 of hell. When this august ceremony was concluded, in 
 thanksgiving for so signal a favour, she besought our 
 Saviour that, as He had during life made her a parti- 
 cipator of His cross, so in death He would let her feel 
 the pains of His agony, to crown all she had suffered ; 
 and the good Jesus consented. 
 
 On Easter Sunday night she asked the people of the 
 house and her confessor to leave her alone to treat of her 
 affairs with God, or at least, accompanied by a little 
 nephew, named Baldwin. To this they consented, after 
 being earnestly pressed by her. After a little the saint en- 
 tered on her agony, and began to feel the sharpest pains, 
 spasms, and inexplicable sufferings. One would think 
 that all kinds of afflictions were accumulated on her at 
 once. Seeking some consolation in Baldwin, as Jesus 
 had in His Apostles, she said to him : “ Ah, my child ! 
 these sufferings are worse than death itself ! The will 
 of God be done !” The child, weeping, asked her if he 
 should call her confessor or some of the family, and 
 finding she did not answer, he ran out to tell them. They 
 came in and found her dead, her hands joined in the 
 attitude of prayer, and on one side the sackcloth she 
 had used to punish the members which were lately freed 
 from pain. Liduvina had gone to accompany the King 
 of Glory in His triumph, as she had followed Him in 
 His dolorous Passion. She died on Easter Sunday, 
 the 14th of April, 1433, at fifty-three years of age. 
 Some pious souls saw her enter heaven in great pomp, 
 to receive the reward of the pains and sufferings she 
 had borne with Christian resignation. The Lord glo- 
 rified her relics with many miracles. 
 
VENERABLE GERONIMA DOLZ. 
 
 229 
 
 VEN. GERONIMA DOLZ, SERVANT, DRESS- 
 MAKER, AND SCHOOLMISTRESS. 
 
 I. 
 
 Four leagues from Valencia, in a village called Olocan, 
 our virgin was born, and was baptised on the 14th of 
 May, 1677. Soon she entered on the way of the cross. 
 Having lost her father and mother in the first months 
 of her infancy, a poor farmer and his wife undertook to 
 rear her, and Divine Providence took ber under His pro- 
 tection. When yet a child she incautiously approached 
 a mill-dam, and stumbling fell into the water. A man 
 at a distance saw her, and ran to her aid, but could not 
 have saved her only God supported her till he caught 
 her by the hair, and drew her out safe and sound. At 
 about four years of age she fell dangerously ill, and 
 having died to all appearance, she was prepared for the 
 grave. With this, a religious Franciscan lay-brother 
 arrived, and turning to the bystanders said to them : — 
 “ Why did you put the shroud on her and she alive ?” 
 “ Why,” said they, “ do you not see in her all the signs 
 of death ?” “ I see signs of life,” he answered and 
 
 taking her by the hand, he said to her : “ Get up, for 
 
 God marks you out for greater works of his grace.’ ’ 
 Geronima arose, and now required no doctors to aid the 
 powerful one she had in heaven. 
 
 As soon as she could do it, they employed her in herd- 
 ing cattle, and thus she became inured from her youth 
 to heat and cold and all sorts of toil. During this time 
 two things deserving particular attention occurred to her. 
 The first was this : In the hot days of July, a religious 
 of the Order of Merced, when going somewhere to preach, 
 sat down in the shade to rest from the fatigue of the 
 journey. Whilst taking some refreshment, he began to 
 rehearse the sermon on Mary Magdalen, which he was 
 about to preach. The Lord brought our little girl near, 
 and she heard him dwell on the fasts and penance which 
 the follower of Jesus performed in a cave near Marseilles. 
 
230 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 Geronima was then about six years of age, and resolving 
 to imitate Magdalen, she sought out a grotto, and for 
 three days fasted on wild dates and herbs, and actually 
 punished her innocent flesh with a discipline she made 
 of Esparto grass ; but at the end of that time her friends 
 found her, and compelled her to go home. 
 
 The other was her correction of the farmer who was 
 rearing her for a perverse habit he had. The poor man 
 used to get angry with the bullocks he ploughed with, 
 and sometimes cursed and swore at them, as ill- trained 
 people are accustomed to do. Geronima heard these 
 expressions, and God allowing it to give us a warning 
 of the evil influence of bad example, innocently repeated 
 them when driving the cattle to pasture. Her master 
 heard her, and though aware of the child’s innocence, 
 scolded her for it, and told her not to say such words, 
 for it was a sin to do so. When Geronima heard him 
 qualify as sins expressions she did not understand, she 
 trembled with fear, and turning on her master, said 
 to him : “I used them without knowing what I was 
 saying ; but how can you utter them so frequently when 
 you know they offend God ? You are guilty of that 
 for which you reprove me. And if we should fly from 
 those who give bad example, and you do not amend, I 
 shall have to leave your house.” The poor man, far 
 from profiting by the lesson the Lord taught him by a 
 child’s mouth, got angry and told her to be off at once, 
 that he did not like bold girls, to leave her clothes in 
 the house and go and earn them. The poor orphan of 
 seven years stripped herself, and sitting under a fig-tree, 
 took some of the leaves and sewed them together to 
 cover herself. When thus employed she was found by 
 a pious woman, who tenderly soothed her weeping, put 
 clothes on her, and took her home again. There she 
 continued to serve God in the midst of toil and hard- 
 ship till she was ten years of age, when the poverty 
 of her guardians compelled them to take her to Valencia 
 to look out for a decent house to put her to service in. 
 
VENERABLE GERONIMA DOLZ. 
 
 231 
 
 As they were on foot in the great heat of summer, they 
 rested nnder the shade of a tree, when a monk, appa- 
 rently a Carthusian, came up and said to them : “You 
 are going to Valencia in search of a master for this ten- 
 der child ?” And without waiting for an answer he put 
 his hand on her head, and said : “ May God make you 
 a saint.” That good religious appeared as an angel who 
 came to foretell her future, and enliven Geronima’s spirit. 
 
 II. 
 
 When they reached Valencia, they placed her at ser- 
 vice in the house of a good citizen, where she was treated 
 like a daughter, and she endeavoured to correspond to the 
 love of her Christian employers. Virtue and the per- 
 formance of her duty were the two, or rather the only 
 care she had on earth ; and harmonising devotion with 
 diligence she made gigantic strides on the path of per- 
 fection. She had scarcely reached thirteen years of age, 
 when, stimulated by the examples of the saints, she re- 
 solved to offer perpetual chastity in holocaust to the 
 Lord. For this she sought pen, ink, and paper, things 
 she had never used in her life, for she did not know how to 
 write, and prostrated before a devout image of the Con- 
 ception, after tender colloquies with the Blessed Virgin, 
 carried away by a divine impulse, she wrote with her own 
 hand these words : “ I, Geronima Dolz.” Tenderness 
 
 stopped her here, and raising her eyes to Mary, she 
 said : u Lady, you know better than I what I wish to 
 write on this paper ; supply my want, and accept the 
 offering of your humble servant.” Saying this she. 
 offered the paper to the Virgin, who took it in her celes- 
 tial hand, in proof that she accepted the sacrifice. With 
 this, Geronima was rapt in sweet ecstasies, and distinctly 
 heard the Sovereign Queen encouraging her to the ful- 
 filment of her promise ; and the Infant God presented 
 Himself, smiling and radiant, and took her hand in proof 
 that He accepted her as spouse, and was prepared to 
 defend her virginal candour against the attacks of the 
 
232 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 world. This singular grace made such an impression 
 on her, that she never recollected it without shedding 
 abundance of grateful tears. Thenceforth they appeared 
 to vie with each other, she to please Jesus, by seeking 
 His greater glory in all her works, and He to heap 
 favours on his faithful and loving spouse. As a con- 
 firmation and complement of this was another favour 
 He did her farther on. One night, after long hours of 
 prayer as usual, she had retired to rest on her hard bed. 
 Her eyes were scarcely closed when, without knowing 
 whether she was asleep or awake, it appeared as if Jesus 
 Christ, dissipating with His beams the darkness of night, 
 accompanied by an army of brilliant angels, tenderly 
 asked her hand. She gave it to Him with the love and 
 reverence which virtue begets ; and then the divine 
 Spouse taking off a valuable ring, put it on her finger 
 as a proof of his eternal love. The dream ended, but 
 Geronima had that celestial adornment on her hand ever 
 after : it would disappear, however, whenever she fell 
 into any defect, or failed to give complete satisfaction 
 to the Master of her soul. 
 
 The divine protection was indeed required to keep 
 her free in the midst of the many dangers with which 
 she was surrounded. Geronima was extremely hand- 
 some, of pleasing address, agreeable conversation, and 
 innocently gay. These graces, which made her amiable 
 and pleasing to all, inflamed a lascivious man with an 
 infamous passion. Twice did he try to persuade her 
 with presents and promises of happiness, as if felicity 
 could exist in a corrupt heart. It was all in vain ; for 
 the scandalised virgin with superhuman efforts repelled 
 his unworthy advances. She flew from the place, and 
 would fly from herself, if possible, for in these combats 
 courage and victory lie in flight. This was not the only 
 triumph of her chastity. She got seriously ill in her 
 master’s house, and as there were no signs of improve- 
 ment, he sent her back to the farmer’s for change of 
 air. She was scarcely well and had recovered her 
 
VENERABLE GERONIMA DOLZ. 
 
 233 
 
 natural beauty, when they wanted to marry' her to a 
 decent young man, counting on her obedience ; and 
 without consulting her they made the match. When 
 she heard what was going on, she appeared as if 
 wounded with a lance. She made various excuses to 
 avoid it ; but seeing they were of no avail, she told them 
 with holy courage that she had consecrated her virgi- 
 nity to Jesus Christ, and that she would suffer a thou- 
 sand deaths sooner than be unfaithful to Him, and give 
 her hand to any man living. This resolution, capable 
 of softening any Christian heart, only served to rouse 
 the farmer’s anger. He beat her severely and shut her 
 up in a dark room, and threatened to let her die of 
 hunger if she would not give in. Shut up in this prison 
 she was three days without food, and going from one 
 faint into another, she was momentarily expecting her 
 last breath. This torment was enough to put an end to 
 her, but another no less terrible was added. The place 
 was infested with rats which, as she lay on the ground 
 half dead, gnawed off her shoes and attacked her feet 
 till the floor was covered with blood from her wounds. 
 Greronima was content to die a martyr of chastity, and 
 be able to offer these sufferings to her Divine Spouse. 
 But Jesus was satisfied with the sacrifice of the will. 
 On the third day a young child came to the door, and 
 pitying the misfortune of the innocent maid, gave her a 
 piece of bread through a hole. The poor girl for want of 
 strength could not use it, but through the child she was 
 able to inform the priest of what was occurring. The good 
 pastor ran to liberate the dying lamb, who had to keep 
 her bed for some time before she recovered her health. 
 
 III. 
 
 When her former strength was restored in the good 
 I ecclesiastic’s house, he would not allow her to return to 
 the farmer’s, where she had run the risk of her life, 
 but sent her to Valencia to the care of her master and 
 mistress, who received her with marks of singular affec- 
 
234 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY". 
 
 tion. There she returned to her usual labours and 
 devotions. Always directed by some zealous Jesuit, she 
 had engraved on her soul the maxim that all exercises 
 of piety should yield to the calls of duty. She conse- 
 quently so divided her time that she could have her 
 housework done properly without interfering with cer- 
 tain devout practices compatible with her obligations. 
 Her zeal and Christian training made her comply, without 
 answer or complaint, with all the commands of her em- 
 ployers, and she could even anticipate their wishes so as 
 to have things done before they ordered them. This was 
 the reason why they appreciated her so much, and 
 allowed her to do whatever her devotion suggested, for 
 they knew her domestic duties would in no way suffer. 
 Her first and principal devotion was constant intercourse 
 with God. To God she offered her waking moments ; 
 to God, as soon as she got up, she consecrated all her 
 works, and God she tried to please in her lowliest 
 occupations. Carried away by the sweet attraction of 
 intercourse with God, of God she spoke in all her con- 
 versations, and the powers of her soul were so fixed on 
 the things of heaven, that the slightest thing gave her 
 wings to fly away there in thought. Though it might 
 well be said she was constantly praying, for at her work 
 she always kept herself in the presence of God, and en- 
 livened the flame of divine love by fervent ejaculations, 
 yet she had special times marked out for meditation each 
 day. When her work was done she shut herself up in an 
 attic, and there dedicated herself to prayer and the exercise 
 of the Via Grucis , which she always ended with a discipline. 
 
 All this was necessary and suitable to conquer the 
 enemy of her soul. There was in the house where 
 Geronima was at service a man of no contemptible quali- 
 ties, and much esteemed by the owners. He fell so 
 madly in love with our chaste virgin, that day and night 
 he persecuted her to show her his amorous anxiety. The 
 girl avoided him as much as possible, and sternly re- 
 jected all his endearments. Having heard that it was 
 
VENERABLE GERONIMA DOLZ. 
 
 235 
 
 the beauty of her hair that principally excited the mad 
 affection of the young man, she heroically resolved to 
 cut it off, and deprive him of all incentive as far as she 
 could. She consulted with her confessor, who praised 
 her resolution, telling her at the same time to think well 
 of it lest she might displease her employers. “ I only 
 require leave,” said she, “ for I shall manage the matter 
 with God, so that no one will know the cause.” Having 
 obtained permission, she fervently asked this grace in 
 prayer, and felt content that God would arrange it all. 
 And so it was ; for, when returning from the church, she 
 was attacked by fever, and erysipelas swelled her face 
 and head like that of a monster. Her employers were 
 alarmed at the attack, and immediately called in the 
 doctor, who, finding that the swelling hourly increased, 
 ordered her hair to be cut off to allow the remedies to be 
 applied. But they were not required, for as soon as the 
 hair was cut off the fever ceased, the swelling disappeared, 
 and Geronima was whole and sound, and perfectly con- 
 tent with having been able to offer that sacrifice to her 
 Divine Spouse. But the young man’s impure love did not 
 entirely cease, nor did he give up his attacks : however, 
 he always found the chaste maid on her guard, and pre- 
 pared to defend her chastity as the eagle does its young. 
 
 IY. 
 
 The devil, enraged at his defeats, took the matter into 
 his own hands, and appearing to her under provocative 
 forms, or suggesting foul thoughts, molested her without 
 giving her a moment’s peace. The chaste virgin had 
 recourse to Jesus and Immaculate Mary as safe harbours 
 of refuge ; but if she found the tempest increasing, as a 
 quicker remedy in such straits she applied the discipline, 
 and punished herself without mercy till the enemy re- 
 tired, that he might not occasion merit where he expected 
 to produce ruin. He appeared to her once as a beautiful 
 young man, surrounded by splendours of glory, and 
 spoke to her of spiritual things for the direction of her 
 
236 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 soul ; but, soon changing his style of conduct, he tried to 
 seduce her. Geronima, knowing it was the devil, seized 
 her usual arms, the cross, and intrepidly attacked the 
 enemy, who disappeared like a coward. She had a heart 
 so enamoured of purity that she abhorred the very 
 shadow of sin. Objectionable dress, indecent expressions, 
 disedifying actions, filled her with bitterness if she hap- 
 pened to see or hear them. Even by their odour she 
 knew persons infected by vice. “Put a pecats,” she 
 used to say in her provincialism — “ he smells of sin,’’ 
 and would fly from those whom she found the prey of 
 impurity. And what else are those unhappy wretches 
 but stinking corpses ? How many walk the streets and 
 are nothing but whited sepulchres, beautiful in appear- 
 ance, but in the soul more frightful and foul than death ! 
 On the other hand, God let her know chaste souls by 
 visible signs. The appreciation with which in her eyes 
 the Lord surrounded the beautiful virtue, made her live 
 on perpetual guard, without permitting her senses or 
 powers to dwell fora moment on dangerous things. She 
 also avoided the more remote occasions, of which the world 
 is full, and she would prefer to die of hunger sooner than 
 engage on work that might serve as an incentive to vanity. 
 
 With such sentiments, sustained by frequenting the 
 sacraments, Geronima spent some twenty years at ser- 
 vice, till the disturbances of Valencia compelled her to 
 leave and go to live in company with some devout 
 women. Then she earned her bread by the labour of 
 her hands and teaching some girls. Her whole life is a 
 guarantee of the care she would have taken to imbue 
 them with the holy fear of God. With tenderness and 
 patience she attached them to* solid virtue, and warned 
 them to avoid bad company, and frequently purified 
 their souls in the fountain of penance. Reverses in her 
 undertaking did not dishearten her, such as if some of 
 the girls did not avail themselves of her instructions as 
 much as she could desire. On the contrary, with great 
 kindness and patience she endeavoured to remedy the 
 
VENEEABLE GEEONIMA DOLZ. 
 
 237 
 
 defects slie noticed, leaving tlie rest in tlie hands of 
 Providence. It happened one day that a woman selling 
 lace went into the school, and one of the children took a 
 piece behind backs and kept it. The same girl, carried 
 away by her perverse inclination, on a certain occasion 
 committed a little theft. The child died penitent ; and 
 a few days after, when Geronima was sleeping one night, 
 she heard a voice calling : “ Mistress, Mistress ! ” She 
 immediately awoke, and saw the child before her, with 
 sad face and surrounded by flames, who besought her to 
 ask the two women from whom she had pilfered the 
 little things to pardon her faults, for, light as they 
 were, she was suffering horribly for them in purgatory. 
 Geronima promised to do what she asked, and moreover 
 offered to apply some suffrages to hasten her eternal re- 
 pose. In a short time she had notice that the prayers 
 and suffrages had opened the gates of eternal glory to 
 the child. The chaste virgin endeavoured to live in 
 retirement ; but in vain does the humble violet try to 
 hide itself, for its grateful fragrance reveals the corner 
 where it lies under cover. And so did it happen with 
 our saintly mistress, the aroma of whose virtues attracted 
 to her lonely dwelling persons of the highest distinction. 
 This was to her a bitter torment, and to avoid such atten- 
 tion she often hid herself in the attic, when she beard a 
 coach stop at the door, and paid no heed to their knock- 
 ing. A certain lady one day complained that she did not 
 find her at home. Geronima answered: “I was at 
 home ; but as I am not used to hear other wheels than 
 those of the doctor stop at my door, when he visits me 
 in my attacks, I could not convince myself that a coach 
 would bring anyone to see me.” With such answers she 
 used to satisfy all complaints. On another occasion a 
 noble family were anxious that Geronima should be god- 
 mother to their first-born, and as she was likely to 
 refuse, they sent a coach to bring her when everything 
 was ready for the baptism. But she met their manoeuvre 
 with another, for as soon as she heard the coach stop at 
 
238 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 the door, she threw herself into bed, dressed as she was ; 
 and when the servant entered with the message, Gero- 
 nima thus anticipated him : “ You. see how I am : tell 
 your employers I am in bed, for my attacks came on me 
 without warning, leave, or licence.” For the purpose 
 of avoiding the estimation of pious people, she took care 
 to do nothing openly worthy of praise, and she asked 
 the Lord, and He consented, not to do her extraordinary 
 favours in public. 
 
 Y. 
 
 In her last illness several persons visted her, and ex- 
 pressed their admiration for the heroic patience, edifying 
 modesty, and eminent virtues of the fervent dressmaker, 
 which was as a cruel martyrdom to her, and made her 
 earnestly request that no one should be permitted to 
 see her except the priests, who could aid her in her 
 spiritual necessities. This was done, but they could not 
 prevent a certain man from entering, who, among other 
 things, said he would contribute to defray the expenses 
 of her funeral honours. Geronima turned on the im- 
 prudent man, and said : “Do not trouble yourself about 
 the matter, for a preacher at my funeral will not be 
 wanting : the devil has my sins plainly written down 
 to publish them before the tribunal of God.’'* She felt 
 so much the credit given her by those who went to seek 
 her, that she confessed to those attending her that she 
 was “ more affected by the praises she got than by all 
 the pains she suffered.” From this profound humility 
 arose not only a certain complacence whenever she was 
 insulted and treated as the offscouring of the people, but 
 also a holy hatred of herself which made her treat her- 
 self as guilty of the most enormous faults. The peni- 
 tential rigours, which she commenced so early in her 
 career, lasted her whole life. In her disciplines and 
 other religious exercises her mistress used to keep her 
 company, and they would go together to visit the sick 
 in the hospital, attend to their wants, and give them 
 
VENERABLE GER0N1MA DOLZ. 
 
 239 
 
 alms. Later on, her confessors, on account of her in- 
 firmities, prohibited the practice of many penances ; but 
 she never gave up the denial of her senses and powers. 
 She never allowed her eyes to indulge in the slightest 
 curiosity, and if she ever failed in this she was punished 
 severely for it ; for on two occasions she was struck 
 blind when she yielded to a desire to witness public 
 spectacles, but recovered her sight when a flood of tears 
 atoned for her indiscretion. 
 
 She was yet more admirable in her victory over love 
 of self. She was silent over injuries and insults, and 
 such was the habit she acquired of tolerating outrages, 
 that when her honour was wounded to the quick she 
 did not complain or murmur, but only felt the offence 
 her detractors offered to God : and this was the more 
 wonderful as she was naturally of a hasty and ardent 
 temperament. Among others, the Lord gave her a 
 director who treated her with great harshness. The 
 servant of God would go to him for consolation in her 
 afflictions, but was repulsed with unsympathetic cold- 
 ness. She would go to consult him in her doubts, and 
 her only answer was a disdainful repulse. She got 
 nothing from his intercourse but dryness and rigour, 
 the Lord so permitting in order to make her the image 
 of Jesus crucified. The poor thing was turned into a 
 sea of bitterness, and almost became persuaded that her 
 graces were illusions, and her good desires dreams or 
 ravings. In this affliction, which was not the least of 
 her spiritual ones, Geronima had recourse to her usual 
 asylum of prayer, and prostrated before an image of the 
 Hcce Homo, venerated in the professed house of the 
 Society, fervently asked to be rescued from the dense 
 darkness of doubts and perplexities, and if right that 
 the Lord would inspire her in the choice of some more 
 suitable director. A ray of light dissipated her clouds, 
 when Jesus clearly answered : “ Geronima, this is the one 
 that suits you.” On this her agitated heart was calmed, 
 and she never changed him till her death, though she 
 
 O 7 O 
 
240 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 had to endure his usually rough and severe treatment, 
 not the most conformable to evangelical charity. 
 
 VI. 
 
 The Divine Hand alternated her voluntary mortifica- 
 tions and interior bitterness with sharp and severe 
 attacks of illness, which she suffered with admirable 
 patience and resignation. But when the doctors, won- 
 dering at the complication of diseases, and despairing of 
 her recovery, ordered the last sacraments to be ad- 
 ministered to her, she was cured in a miraculous man- 
 ner. These, however, were not her most afflicting 
 pains : she had a more terrible cup to drain in the cruel 
 torments with which the devils afflicted her. With the 
 divine permission, they tossed her in the air and beat 
 her till almost dead, to make her give up her prayers or 
 holy enterprises. In these contests the cross was her 
 shield, and sometimes she called the saints to her assist- 
 ance, particularly St. Ignatius and St. Francis, who 
 came to comfort her. Our good dressmaker used to do 
 some work with her needle to gain her livelihood, and 
 she did it with singular care and cleanliness. The devils 
 would sometimes soil and rip it and throw it out on the 
 street to provoke her to impatience. But as she knew 
 their wiles, she did not yield in the slightest degree, nor 
 neglect her prayers, but continued them more fervently 
 till she routed her enemies, and in the morning she 
 would find her work as intact and clean as she had left 
 it. What the common enemy of souls felt most was her 
 frequenting of the sacraments ; and as he could not 
 prevent it with all his efforts, he struggled hard to de- 
 prive her of the merit of at least one communion. I will 
 relate two things which happened in this connection. 
 
 She was going one day to the church to confession 
 and to receive the Bread of Angels, when she met, as 
 she thought, her director coming out of the college : 
 “ Greronima, you cannot go to confession or communion 
 to-day, as I am very busy.” Apparently her spiritual 
 
VENERABLE GERONIMA DOLZ. 
 
 241 
 
 father went on his way, and Geronima, reflecting that 
 he did not prohibit her from hearing Mass, entered the 
 church, where, to her great astonishment, she found her 
 director in his confessional. Another day, the enemy, 
 playing the same trick, met her in the figure of her con- 
 fessor, and severely blamed her for going at that hour 
 to confession, and told her she wanted to please her own 
 will, but that he could not be ready at all times to hear 
 her idle stories. The venerable woman was in great 
 perplexity, but she obediently sacrificed her desires and 
 returned home. She had scarcely reached it when she 
 met a companion, who told her she was coming from 
 Mass, and that her director was in the act of saying his. 
 On this she knew the deceit the devil had practised, and 
 returning to the church she found her confessor saying 
 Mass. Such was the anxiety of Lucifer to keep her from 
 the holy Table, for he knew it was the most powerful 
 arms to resist him. 
 
 The infernal enemy also tried to upset the pious exer- 
 cises of the servant of God. She annually performed 
 the spiritual Retreat of St. Ignatius, from which she 
 derived great advantage and new strength to bear the 
 cross of tribulation, and the devil invented fresh plans to 
 withdraw her from it. When meditating on the pains 
 of hell, as the saint lays down in the first week, and 
 considering those terrible flames, the devil carried her in 
 spirit to that place of torment, and showed her what he 
 said was her own soul enduring fearful tortures, as God 
 had destined her, in His inscrutable designs, to burn 
 eternally in that fire ; and the Lord permitting, he made 
 such an impression on her, that, believing herself the 
 greatest of sinners and destined for damnation, she fell 
 seriously ill, and had to receive the last sacraments. To 
 avoid this danger, her director in future Retreats told 
 her to omit the meditation on hell ; and she did so till, 
 four years before her death, he allowed her to renew it. 
 She obeyed, but the devils attacked her and beat her till 
 she was covered with wounds and bruises. All these 
 
 16 
 
242 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 torments were not capable of subduing ber will, and 
 during tbe year sbe endeavoured to foster tbe fruit of 
 tbe Retreat by constant meditation and recollection. 
 Tbe ordinary subject of ber meditations was tbe passion 
 of Jesus Christ, from whose stages, considered with holy 
 leisure, sbe derived affections, now of compassion on 
 contemplating Jesus so ill-treated; now of hatred of sin, 
 which was tbe cause of His sufferings ; now of insatiable 
 zeal for the salvation of souls, which cost Jesus so much ; 
 now of ardent charity for her brethren. 
 
 VII. 
 
 In meditation and out of it the Lord supported His 
 humble servant with extraordinary favours, from which 
 she drew greater humility and contempt of self. I will 
 mention a few of the more marked ones. When hearing 
 Mass with accustomed fervour, she sometimes saw Jesus 
 in the Sacred Host in the form of a beautiful infant, now 
 as it were in agony, now supplicating her for some 
 sacrifice. On returning one day from the church, she 
 met a beautiful, well-dressed little boy, who was crying 
 bitterly. Geronima, in pity, said to the child : “ Where 
 do you come from, child ?” And he answered: “My 
 brothers beat me, and drive me from home.” Without 
 understanding what this meant, Geronima took him by 
 the hand and brought him home, with the intention of 
 giving him something to dry his tears. But as soon as 
 they entered the house, the child threw off his disguise 
 and let her know that He was Jesus. He then told her 
 that the cause of His weeping was the ingratitude of 
 men, and disappeared, leaving the virgin shedding tears 
 of sorrow. During the carnival, when so many excesses 
 are committed, Jesus Christ used to appear to her in 
 some of the tragic scenes of the Passion, whose torments 
 are renewed by sinners. Geronima would pass those 
 days of unbridled dissolution either in punishing her 
 innocent body, or in presence of the Blessed Sacrament, 
 to make reparation for so many offences. Oh ! if souls 
 
VENERABLE GERONIMA DOLZ. 
 
 243 
 
 desirous of their spiritual good would run anxiously to 
 Jesus in this loving prison, and do holy violence for the 
 conversion of sinners, how soon would the present face 
 of the world he changed ! 
 
 The Blessed Virgin and her patron saints, particularly 
 St. Ignatius and St. Philip ISTeri, equally favoured her. 
 The Mother of God consoled her by visiting her in her 
 troubles ; and her intercourse became so familiar that 
 she would often awaken her to pray at the usual hour, 
 saying : “ Come, Geronima, bless the Lord, for it is now 
 your hour.” This also was sometimes done by the angels. 
 One of the greatest afflictions the servant of God felt 
 was her inability to approach the sacred table to receive 
 the Bread of the strong during her severe attacks of 
 sickness. But even this hunger was satisfied by the 
 divine bounty, for in such cases He sometimes sent 
 heavenly messengers to administer Holy Communion to 
 her. Geronima corresponded to these favours by lively 
 anxiety to suffer for Jesus, and an unlimited confidence 
 in Divine Providence. A few months previous to her 
 last illness, she suffered so intense pains that she prayed 
 the Lord to give her some relief. The Divine Spouse 
 hastened at her call, and with a benign countenance 
 showed her a cross He had in His right hand and a 
 wreath of beautiful flowers in His left, and said : 
 “ Choose, my daughter, whichever you wish : I am 
 anxious to please you.” Geronima regretted her prayer, 
 and embracing the cross, said : “ Why should I select 
 the flowers, seeing that you are crowned with thorns ? 
 Let suffering come, my God : listen not to the cries of 
 my frailty. Let this dry trunk endure without allevia- 
 tion, for it is only just the divine wrath should fall on 
 it.” These sentiments animated her during life, and 
 made her love suffering as worldlings do ease and plea- 
 sure. A proof of her confidence in Providence is the 
 contempt she had for the treasures of earth. 
 
 She was one day so short of necessaries that she had 
 not only no money in the house, but not even a piece of 
 
244 
 
 LIGHT FEOM THE LOWLY. 
 
 bread with which to appease her hunger, and only hoped 
 to get something for a pair of stockings she was knit- 
 ting. In the hurry of her work she remembered she 
 could not finish them without losing Mass. Perplexed 
 between her necessity and her devotion, she felt a strong 
 interior impulse, and, without farther deliberation, she 
 threw down the stocking and went to Mass. -A few paces 
 from the door she found a paper folded up, and inside it 
 a threepenny piece, which was enough to satisfy her 
 needs. But she was not content with satisfying her own 
 wants : those of her neighbours touched her heart much 
 more. It appears impossible that a woman so poor 
 could succour the needy with her alms, and yet her 
 ardent charity found plenty to give them. She divided 
 with the poor everything she got from others and earned 
 herself. She specially loved those who were ashamed to 
 beg, particularly if their souls ran any risk. One Sun- 
 day, when making her thanksgiving after Communion, 
 she heard an interior voice which told her to go home, 
 where she would find an object of charity. She went 
 at once, and finding no one, began to read the venerable 
 Mother Mary de Agreda, when a handsome young girl 
 arrived, and, full of virginal modesty, said to her : “I 
 am come to ask you to help me in my great need.” The 
 charitable dressmaker did not deliberate long. She had 
 only two shillings which she had got for some stockings, 
 and she handed over to her the whole sum, saying : 
 “ Take this, Miss, as it comes from the hand of God, 
 who succours us in necessity that we may be grateful to 
 Him.” The Lord also assisted His servant by extra- 
 ordinary means. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 One day, after praying long before the Blessed Sa- 
 crament, she fainted, and was taken home by a com- 
 panion. The poor woman was thinking on the way how 
 she could comfort Geronima, for she knew there was 
 nothing in the house, and it was not a time to go to look 
 for it. To her great astonishment, when they got home 
 
YENEEABLE GERONIMA DOLZ. 
 
 245 
 
 she found a saucepan boiling on the cold embers with a 
 chicken in it, and everything necessary to strengthen a 
 sick person. God is generous to the almsgiver, and 
 Geronima was really one. And He made her His 
 almoner ; for often, when unable to work for the needy, 
 she would find pieces of money under her pillow with- 
 out knowing whence they came. The following act of 
 charity was also wonderful : One day a poor man in rags, 
 and half naked, passed her door. She took pity on him 
 and gave him a pair of shoes, the only thing she had to 
 offer, and soon an unknown person came and gave her 
 four shillings, as if in reward for her shoes. 
 
 But if her charity was great at sight of temporal 
 necessities, greater still and more ingenious was it in the 
 relief of spiritual ones. Her life was a tissue of brilliant 
 examples of this. A woman of loose life came one day 
 to order a pair of stockings, which should be made ac- 
 cording to the latest fashion. The saint took advantage 
 of the visit to speak kindly to her of her irregular way 
 of living, and to remind her of the pains of hell, and the 
 pleasure with which God received back erring souls. 
 She made such an impression on her that the poor thing 
 began to weep. Geronima led her before an image of 
 the Ecce Homo , and then they both prayed in tears. The 
 woman tore off her sinful adornments, and, making 
 a bundle of them, threw them into the river. Then she 
 went to confession, and afterwards getting ill, went to 
 hospital, where Geronima attended her like a mother till 
 God was pleased to call her to Himself. 
 
 IX. 
 
 As a greater stimulus to her zeal the Lord had endowed 
 her with the gift of penetrating spirits. And it often 
 happened that when people imbued in sin went to her 
 for consolation and counsel, she opened their eyes to the 
 foulness of their consciences, and reproved them with 
 such charity that few there were who resisted her warn- 
 ings and advice. Sometimes she touched the hearer’s 
 
246 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 heart with a joke only understood by himself. In this 
 way she corrected and brought to compunction a priest 
 who was not leading as holy a life as he should. And to 
 obtain these good results she did not hesitate to expose 
 herself to death. There was a woman lived near her 
 who was leading a had life, and the saint tried in vain to 
 reform her. At last, finding all her efforts fruitless, she 
 managed to have her removed from the district. The 
 woman conceived such a hatred for her that she prevailed 
 on her accomplice to take her life. He placed himself 
 in a lonely spot by which Geronima should pass, and as 
 she was going by raised his pistol to shoot her ; but he 
 could not only not fire, but was rooted to the spot like 
 a statue. On the following day, when she was passing 
 by the same place, he threw himself on his knees at her 
 feet, and begged her pardon for his murderous attempt. 
 Through the warning of the day before, and the saint’s 
 prayers, he not only repented of his crime, but resolved 
 to leave this deceitful world and seek a safe retreat in 
 some religious Order, and, guided by Geronima’s pru- 
 dent advice, he entered a very austere one, where he 
 lived an exemplary and penitent life. 
 
 She never allowed an occasion to pass of promoting 
 God’s glory and preventing sin. One day she found a 
 man and woman talking together in a solitary place, and 
 knowing their evil designs, said to them : “ Take a seat 
 and rest, for you shall have time enough to suffer in hell, 
 where a place is prepared for you.” With this they 
 turned their backs on each other, and went away. 
 Though always animated by ardent zeal, she appeared 
 to redouble it during the annual missions given by the 
 Jesuits during the novena of St. Francis Xavier, andón 
 the Sundays of Lent. Then she cried out to the Lord 
 for the conversion of sinners , multiplied her penances, 
 made new sacrifices, and ceased not till she obtained 
 many conversions from the Lord, securing sometimes as 
 many as five hundred. 
 
 The Almighty occasionally aided her apostolic charity 
 
VENERABLE GERONIMA DOLZ. 
 
 247 
 
 with evident prodigies. It often happened that, know- 
 ing from on high that some soul was beset by the enemies 
 of our salvation, and in the risk of yielding, Geronima 
 came to the aid of the afflicted one, penetrating its re- 
 tirement, as Jesus did the supper-room, without opening 
 the doors, and, with her fervent exhortations, dissipated 
 the tempest. Blessed be the Omnipotent who inspires 
 the littles ones with great enterprises for His glory. 
 
 X. 
 
 Such a volcano of charity could not confine itself to 
 the living. It extended also to the blessed souls of pur- 
 gatory, who sometimes appeared to her to ask her 
 prayers and suffrages. She was always trying, and en- 
 gaging others to try, to get Masses said for their repose. 
 It happened once that a priest whom she employed to 
 say a certain number for a deceased person neglected 
 one. The soul appeared to her and told her it was still 
 suffering in the purifying flames from the want of that 
 Mass. The charitable virgin went to the priest, and 
 with her face covered, that he might not know her, 
 accused him of neglecting the Mass. The minister of 
 God was filled with alarm when he was reprehended for 
 a mistake only known to himself, and, believing he was 
 talking to the soul of the deceased, promised to say it 
 immediately. He did so that very morning in Geronima’s 
 presence, who immediately left that she might not be 
 discovered. The soul of her who had been to her in the 
 place of a mother also appeared to her, at which the de- 
 vout virgin wondered not a little, for, in her opinion, she 
 had always led an edifying life. But the judgments of 
 God are different from the judgments of men. She used 
 often to say that purgatory is full of the souls of boys 
 and girls who die at the dawn of reason, because their 
 parents, believing they go to the other world with their 
 innocence, neglect to offer suffrages for their eternal 
 repose. 
 
 All these graces were crowned by the Lord with other 
 
248 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 extraordinary gifts, such as that of curing and prophecy. 
 We will only give a few instances of the latter. Almost 
 always that any Jesuit of the province of Aragon died, 
 no matter how distant the place was, the servant of God 
 had notice of it, so that her director, on hearing of it 
 from her, offered without hesitation the usual suffrages 
 for his eternal repose. On one occasion when hearing 
 Mass in the professed house of Valencia, she saw one of 
 the fathers, who w r as then quite well, laid out on the bier ; 
 and the good man soon took unwell and died. On another 
 occasion, having gone to visit some nuns, she said to one 
 of them : “ How are you getting on with the making of 
 the shroud, mother ?” thus indicating that she should 
 prepare for death. The religious, thinking she w r as 
 joking, answered : “ Slowly, indeed, Geronima.” “ Then, 
 mother, make haste with it, for you must go soon, and I 
 shall follow after.” And, indeed, the Lord had revealed 
 to her the hour of her death. The day of the Purifica- 
 tion of Our Blessed Lady our Saviour manifested to her 
 that He wished to take her from this exile and bring her 
 to eternal rest. Hearing this news, she bid good-bye to 
 her friends as if she were going on a journey ; she visited, 
 for the last time, some churches and images of her special 
 devotion, and was then attacked with her last illness. 
 During it she persisted in her prophecy, and prepared 
 her soul for the last struggle. Full of virtues and merit, 
 at fifty-five years of age, she went, as piously believed, 
 to glory, on the 15th of April, 1732, being Easter 
 Tuesday, on which morning she received the Commu- 
 nion on that day given to the sick. Happy those who, 
 in imitation of this humble virgin, earnestly promote the 
 glory of God and the good of souls. On her second 
 anniversary a long panegyric was preached on her by 
 Father Bias Cazorla, of the Society of Jesus, rector of 
 the College and University of Gandía, from which we 
 have extracted the edifying facts we have related. 
 
|lcaír'mg front % pistero of % Holn JfamUg- 
 
 FROM THE TIME THAT JESUS DROVE THE 
 SELLERS FROM THE TEMPLE TO THE SER- 
 MON ON THE MOUNT. 
 
 From Cana Jesns went to Capharnaum, where Fe passed 
 a few days with His beloved Mother and His disciples. 
 But his stay in this place could not be long, as the pascli 
 was coming on, and He should go to Jerusalem to cele- 
 brate it according to custom. There He was anxious to 
 preach the good news ; and, having entered into the 
 temple, and found merchants buying and selling all 
 classes of animals destined for the sacrifice, oxen, sheep, 
 and doves, and the bankers seated at their tables of ex- 
 change, as if it were a public market ; filled with holy 
 indignation at sight of the temple profaned, He made a 
 scourge of little cords and drove them all out of the 
 sanctuary, and overturned the tables with the money, 
 exclaiming : “ Take these things hence, and make not 
 the house of my father a house of traffic.’ ’ His burning 
 zeal would not allow the temple consecrated to prayer 
 and the divine worship to be turned into a den of usurers 
 and thieves. Those divine eyes manifested a dignity 
 more than human, and hence all rushed out filled with 
 dread ; only a few, more daring than the others, asked 
 Him : “ What sign dost Thou show unto us, seeing Thou 
 dost these things?’’ Jesus answered: “Destroy this 
 temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” The Jews 
 exclaimed, in mockery : “ Six and forty years was this 
 temple in building, and wilt Thou raise it up in three 
 days?” But Jesus, though with the infinite power of 
 
250 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 His arm He could restore it in an instant, did not, how- 
 ever, speak of the material edifice, but of the angnst 
 tempi e of His body. And so, when He arose on the 
 third day after His death, His disciples remembered this 
 prophecy. 
 
 In every age the fear of the sarcasm, or the irony, or 
 the calumny of viper tongues, has been to many a stumb- 
 ling-block, preventing them from doing that which their 
 heart approved of. This very dread kept many back 
 from embracing the doctrine of Jesus, to the evident 
 risk of their eternal ruin, though His sanctity and sweet- 
 ness, backed by unheard of prodigies, strongly impelled 
 their souls to renounce the world and to follow the teach- 
 ing of the Messias. This explains how — though not a 
 few, observing the miracles wrought by the Lord in 
 confirmation of the Gospel, believed in His name and 
 publicly subjected reason to the yoke of faith — amongst 
 the timid believers there was a Pharisee called Nico- 
 demus, who, through human respect, went by night to 
 see Jesus and to be instructed in the new law. But not, 
 therefore, was he rejected by the Divine Pastor, who 
 came to collect the scattered sheep of the house of Israel; 
 on the contrary, with that charity and meekness with 
 which He drew hearts to Him, He began to expound to 
 him the mystery of the regeneration of man by holy 
 baptism : “ Amen, amen, I say to thee, unless a man be 
 born again of water and the Holy Ghost, he cannot enter 
 into the kingdom of heaven.” He also spoke to him of 
 the bloody crucifixion with which the Jews were to take 
 His life. And He added, for our consolation, that as the 
 Jews, by looking at the brazen serpent raised by Moses 
 in the desert, were cured of the bites of the venomous 
 serpents, so also those who believe in Jesus Christ, the 
 Author and Perfector of our hope, shall be cured of the 
 bite of the infernal serpent. “ For God,” added He, 
 “ sent not his Son into the world to judge the world, 
 but that the world may be saved by Him. He that be- 
 lie veth in Him is not judged. But he that doth not 
 
HISTORY OF THE HOLY FAMILY. 
 
 251 
 
 believe is already judged ; because be believeth not in 
 the name of the only begotten Son of God.” Hence we see 
 that salvation is not given without our co-operation, and 
 a lively faith is required to attain it. Such are the prin- 
 ciples of the Divine Master with regard to the necessity 
 of faith, which, if it be not accompanied by good works, 
 is a dead faith, and serves in hell as an indelible mark of 
 eternal ignominy for those who had abundance of light 
 but yet preferred to walk in darkness. 
 
 Having thus inaugurated the preaching of the doc- 
 trine of salvation, Jesus began to administer baptism to 
 His disciples, not a sterile baptism like that of John, but 
 a baptism which infused sanctifying grace into those 
 who worthily received it. The admirers of the Pre- 
 cursor were alarmed at sight of this new baptism, and 
 ran to their master to tell him of all Jesus was doing. 
 “Master,” said they, “ He who was with thee beyond 
 the Jordan baptiseth, and all men come to Him.” The 
 saint answered : “You yourselves bear me witness that 
 I said : I am not Christ, but that I am sent before Him. 
 He that cometh from above, is above all. He that is of 
 the earth, of the earth he is, and of the earth he 
 speaketh. He that cometh from heaven, is above all. 
 He must increase and I must decrease. He that be- 
 lieveth in the Son hath lif e everlasting ; but he that 
 believeth not the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of 
 God abideth on him.” 
 
 Neither humiliation nor threats could repress his 
 •burning zeal. Herod, the tetrarch, lived scandalously 
 with Herodias, his brother's wife. John could not con- 
 tain his indignation at sight of such a crime, and 
 declaimed against the obscene prince, who, embittered 
 by his just recriminations, took the zealous apostle of 
 penance prisoner and put him in jail. Such is the lot 
 of the preachers of virtue when immoral and infidel 
 people are in power. On that Jesus retired to Galilee, 
 which was subject to Philip, because He feared, and 
 with good reason, that the Pharisees, His sworn ene- 
 
252 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 mies, would incite Pilate to seize Him also, under pre- 
 text that He was driving the people to sedition, for they 
 followed Him in great crowds. 
 
 In making this journey He had to pass by Samaria. 
 The road was long. He reached Sichar, where there 
 was a famous well, called the well of Jacob, who, ac- 
 cording to tradition, had dug it to water his flocks. 
 Jesus felt fatigued, and having sent His disciples to the 
 town to buy some food, He sat down near the mouth 
 of the well to rest. Just then a Samaritan woman came 
 to draw water, and our Lord asked her for a drink. 
 “ How dost thou,” said the woman, “being a Jew, ask 
 me to drink, who am a Samaritan woman ?” She 
 spoke thus on account of the deadly hatred which existed 
 between the Samaritans and the Jews. Jesus answered : 
 “ If thou didst know the gift of God, and who He is 
 that saith to thee, Give me to drink, thou perhaps 
 wouldst have asked of Him, and He would have given 
 thee living water.” “ Sir,” said the woman, “ Thou 
 hast nothing wherein to draw, and the well is deep: 
 from whence, then, hast thou living water?” Jesus 
 answered: “Whosoever drinketh of this water shall 
 thirst again : but he that shall drink of the water that I 
 shall give him shall not thirst for ever. But the water 
 that 1 will give him shall become in him a fountain of 
 water springing up into life everlasting.” Such is the 
 water of grace and charity, with which we can sanctify 
 all our works. “ Sir,” said the woman, “ give me this 
 water, that I may not thirst, nor come hither to draw.” 
 Our Lord changed the conversation, that He might the 
 more easily gain that soul, and told her to go and call 
 her husband. She answered : “I have no husband.” 
 Jesus answered : “ Thou hast said well, I have no hus- 
 band ; for thou hast had five husbands : and he whom 
 thou now hast is not thy husband.” She confessed 
 that He had spoken the truth, and said she saw He was 
 a prophet, and then added : “ Our fathers adored on 
 this mountain, and you say that Jerusalem is the place 
 
HISTORY OF THE HOLY FAMILY. 
 
 253 
 
 where men must adore.” “ Woman,” answered Jesus, 
 “believe me that the hour cometh, when you shall 
 neither on this mountain, nor in Jerusalem, adore the 
 Father. You adore that which you know not : we 
 adore that which we know, for salvation is of the Jews. 
 But the hour cometh, and now is, when the true adorers 
 shall adore the Father in spirit and in truth. For the 
 Father also seeketh such to adore him. God is spirit, 
 and they that adore Him must adore Him in spirit and 
 in truth.” The woman then said : “ I know that the 
 Messias cometh (who is called Christ), therefore when 
 He come He will tell us all things.” And Jesus, answer- 
 ing, said to her : “ I am He who am speaking with 
 thee.” Just then the disciples returned, and were sur- 
 prised to find Him talking to a woman alone : such was 
 the guard and modesty ordinarily observed by our 
 Saviour in His conduct among men. However, no one 
 expressed his astonishment. But the poor woman 
 dropped her pitcher, and ran off to the town in great 
 glee to tell the good news, 
 
 “ Come,” she said to the people, “ come and see a 
 man who has told me all things whatsoever I have 
 done.” In the meantime the disciples prayed Jesus to 
 eat of what they had brought, and He answered that 
 He had other food which they knew not of.” And they 
 said to each other : “ Hath any man brought Him to 
 eat ?” To which Jesus answered : “My meat is to do 
 the will of Him who sent me, that I may perfect his 
 work.” He was consumed with zeal for the divine 
 glory, and seeing the hearts well disposed, the fields 
 already white and ready for the reaper, He complained 
 of the scarcity of evangelical workers, and He asked 
 them to pray to the Lord to send helpers to His 
 vineyard. 
 
 The men of Samaria were moved by the relation of 
 the prodigies of the Saviour recounted to them by the 
 woman, and ran in crowds to see the Divine Master. 
 The Lord received them all with the charity of a father, 
 
254 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 and when He opened His lips and taught them His 
 celestial doctrines, they were so taken by His maxims, 
 that they entreated Him to remain with them. He wil- 
 lingly accepted their invitation, and remained two days 
 in Sichar, cultivating these docile hearts. “We now 
 believe,’ ’ said they to the woman, “ not for thy saying : 
 for we ourselves have heard Him, and know that this is 
 indeed the Saviour of the world.” 
 
 Full of sacred booty, Jesus left Sichar and went to 
 Galilee, where He commenced His preaching, exciting 
 admiration as well by His miracles as by His portentous 
 wisdom. He went to Hazareth, his own country, and 
 entered the synagogue, according to custom. On these 
 occasions the Jews were accustomed to read some 
 chapter of the Sacred Scriptures, and then the highest 
 in authority, from age or learning, taking the book, 
 interpreted what was read. Jesus was known by His 
 doctrine, and after the usual ceremonies He took the 
 book of Isaias, which was handed to Him, and, opening 
 it, He found this passage, which He read to the con- 
 gregation : “ The spirit of the Lord is upon me, where- 
 fore He hath anointed me, to preach the gospel to the 
 poor He hath sent me, to heal the contrite of heart. To 
 preach deliverance to the captives and sight to the 
 blind ...” He closed the book, and, returning it to 
 the minister, began to interpret this passage. All had 
 their eyes on Him, anxious to hear what He was going 
 to say. “This day,” He exclaimed, “is fulfilled this 
 Scripture in your ears.” And He spoke with such 
 mastery, that, on hearing the torrents of wisdom which 
 flowed from his lips, they asked one another : “ Is not 
 this the son of Joseph ?” They were scandalised at the 
 lowliness of His origin, and were consequently de- 
 prived of seeing the miracles of the Saviour. To such 
 a pitch did the hardness of their hearts reach, that when 
 He said that a prophet was not honoured in his own 
 country, they were filled with rage, they cast Him out 
 of the city, and carried Him to the brow of a hill to 
 
HISTORY OF THE HOLY FAMILY. 
 
 255 
 
 precipitate Him. But Jesus, passing through their 
 midst without being seen, retired to Capharnaum, 
 where, it appears, He took up His ordinary residence. 
 His zeal, however, did not allow Him to seek rest or to 
 remain long in any place, but He went about, preaching 
 everywhere the approach of the kingdom of heaven and 
 the establishment of His Church. His fame spread in 
 all directions, and from all parts came the people to 
 hear Him and to have their sick cured. 
 
 When passing again through Cana, a certain ruler 
 besought Him to come and cure a son he had sick in 
 Capharnaum. “ Unless you see signs and wonders you 
 believe not.” “Lord,” said the ruler, “come down 
 before my son dies.” Jesus answered : “Go thy way, 
 thy son liveth.” The man believed what Jesus said to 
 him, and returned home ; but before he reached his 
 house, his servants came running to tell him the good 
 news that the sick boy was free from the fever, and was 
 cured at the seventh hour of the day. This was the 
 very hour at which Jesus had said that his son lived. 
 The Lord pursued his course, accompanied by Peter 
 and Andrew, and He saw the brothers, James and John, 
 the sons of Zebedee, who were in a boat with their 
 father, mending their nets. He called them, and they, 
 leaving all, followed Him. 
 
 Great was the following of Jesus, and no less the rage 
 of Satan on seeing that so many broke the chains of sin. 
 Our Lord was one Sabbath teaching in the synagogue, 
 with that religious authority and liberty peculiarly His 
 own, when a man possessed by the evil spirit began to 
 cry out: “What have we to do with thee, Jesus of 
 Nazareth ? Art thou come to destroy us ? I know 
 thee who thou art, the Holy One of God.” The Lord 
 rebuked him, and said : “ Hold thy peace and go out of 
 him.” At this command the spirit threw the man 
 down and went out of him. “What is this?” said the 
 spectators. “ What doctrine and what power is this 
 which even the infernal spirits cannot resist ?” When 
 
256 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 He left the synagogue He went to Simon’s house, whose 
 mother-in-law was ill of a fever. He took her hand, 
 and, by only touching it, she was instantly cured. Then 
 they brought to Him all the sick and possessed of the 
 village, and He cured all by simply imposing hands on 
 them. When the devils found themselves cast out 
 they shouted by the mouth of those they were in pos- 
 session of : “ Thou art the Son of God !” But Jesus, 
 reprehending them, imposed silence on them. We 
 should never end if we followed the Saviour, step by 
 step, in His excursions through the towns and villages 
 where He preached penance and announced the kingdom 
 of God, surrounded everywhere by an unusual multi- 
 tude of people, anxious to hear His salutary teaching. 
 We can only touch on a few of the principal ones. He 
 one time was on the shore of the lake of Genesareth, 
 and such was the crowd that came to hear His doctrine, 
 that, in order to address them with more convenience, 
 He had to get into a boat belonging to Simon, and speak 
 to them from it. When the sermon was over, He said 
 to Peter: “Launch out into the deep and let down 
 your nets for a draught.’ ’ “ Master,” answered Simon, 
 
 “ we have laboured all night and have taken nothing, 
 but at thy word I will let down the net.” They did as 
 Jesus told them, and so extraordinary was the take that 
 their nets were breaking, and they were obliged to call 
 for the assistance of their companions in the other boat, 
 and the two vessels were loaded to the water’s edge. 
 Peter was beyond himself when he saw this prodigy. 
 When he made fast his boat, he ran and threw himself 
 at the feet of Jesus, and, with profound hutnility, said : 
 “ Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.” But 
 the Divine Saviour, full of goodness, addressed these 
 words to him : “ Fear not, from henceforth thou shalt 
 catch men.” 
 
St. Martin. 
 
LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 Sims V. 
 
 ST. ISIDORE AXD_ST. MARY, FARMERS. 
 
 I. 
 
 The year 1622 was for Catholic Spain a year of enthu- 
 siastic jubilee. All her towns and villages rejoiced at 
 the peaceful conquest of virtue gained when Gregory 
 XY. added five new names to the roll of saints, all of 
 whom were Spaniards, except St. Philip Xeri. They 
 were Ignatius of Loyola, Francis Xavier, Apostle of the 
 Indies ; Teresa of Jesus, reformer of the Order of 
 Carmel ; and our simple and exemplary Isidore. They 
 were canonised on the 12th of March of the 'above year. 
 
 Madrid, which from time immemorial, venerated the 
 mortal remains of the humble farmer, transformed into 
 an enchanted garden, celebrated its patron’s canonisation 
 with transports of devotion. In all directions were seen 
 wreaths of laurel and flowers, rich tapestries, triumpha 
 arches, and crystalline fountains. The night of the 
 20th of June was turned into day by the general illu- 
 
260 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 mination. But the greatest devotion of the faithful 
 was excited by the magnificent procession, in which the 
 saint’s relics were carried, and in which all the guilds 
 and societies of the city joined. Six hundred priests, 
 in measured strains, celebrated the glories of the re- 
 nowned confessor. Philip IV. and all his court, in 
 extraordinary gala dress, followed the triumphal car, 
 which, without counting the workmanship, was worth 
 sixteen thousand ducados ; and then came numerous 
 squadrons of horse and foot, waving the standards taken 
 from the Moors in the battle of Navas de Tolosa, — a 
 battle, some say, gained through the protection of our 
 saint. Passing over these uncertain titles to devotion 
 and enthusiasm, someone may ask to what did the 
 humble farmer owe those glorious rejoicings, the pallid 
 reflection of the glory he enjoys in heaven F To this 
 Christian question, the Bull of canonisation answers 
 “ that it was in digging and ploughing the earth the 
 prudent labourer found the treasure of divine grace, 
 with which he purchased the principality of heavenly 
 glory.” The way in which he found the vein of this 
 inestimable treasure we may learn from the edifying 
 examples he left us during his mortal career. 
 
 Isidore was born in Madrid of poor but Christian 
 parents, from whom, along with the rudiments of faith, 
 he learned an unlimited confidence in Divine Providence. 
 He was by profession a farmer, simple, devout, God- 
 fearing, amiable, and indulgent to all. Engaged at 
 work the whole week, on Sundays he went to the Bene- 
 dictine Convent to hear from the lips of the religious 
 the explanation of eternal truths, which, during his 
 hours of labour, served as food for his soul, a lamp in 
 his undertakings, and an efficacious medicine in his ills. 
 With this avidity and diligence, the germs of the piety 
 planted in his soul by his good parents struck deep 
 root in his heart ; above all, his tender devotion to 
 
ST. ISIDORE AND ST. MART. 
 
 261 
 
 Jesus crucified, and the Virgin of Sorrows, perfect ex- 
 amples of resignation and patience, living books in 
 which Isidore studied the science of the saints, that is, 
 a love of things eternal, and a contempt for all things 
 fleeting and perishing. Not through carnal desires, but 
 in obedience to the voice of God, our saint contracted 
 marriage with Maria Torribia. Maria’s place of birth 
 is not certainly known, several villages around Madrid 
 disputing this honour. It is beyond doubt, however, 
 that she was reared in the holy fear of God, and assi- 
 duously cultivated the virtues becoming a truly Chris- 
 tian girl. Like the man the Lord had destined for her 
 consort, she was simple, humble, devout, industrious, 
 and anxious to obey the divine will in all things. She 
 consequently sanctified the festival days, and attended, 
 with fervour and constancy, not only at the explanation 
 of the Christian doctrine, but also the Holy Sacrifice of 
 the Mass, and, as far as she could, frequented the holy 
 sacraments. 
 
 II. 
 
 The Lord united these two candid souls, so similar in 
 their aspirations and sentiments, in the holy bonds of 
 matrimony. Following the advice of St. Paul, who 
 tells the faithful to work with their hands in order to 
 assist the poor and fly from idleness, the mother of all 
 vices, they were always attached to labour, and lived 
 content in gaining the necessaries of life with the sweat 
 of their brow. But they were never blinded by an im- 
 moderate desire of heaping up riches, which are dissi- 
 pated in the twinkling of an eye : they preferred eternal 
 treasures to the material and fleeting ones of this world. 
 Hence their first and principal occupation was the affair 
 of the eternal salvation of their souls. They got up 
 very early in the morning ; and every day before Isidore 
 
262 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 engaged in the work of the fields and Maria in her 
 domestic duties, they went to Mass and to visit some 
 churches, fervently recommending themselves to God, 
 and treating with Him of man’s most important busi- 
 ness — the salvation of his soul. The Lord, on His part, 
 looked after their interests. 
 
 Notwithstanding that they went to work a little later 
 than their neighbours, they laboured so hard that they 
 had more done at the end of the day than the others ; 
 for, besides their diligence, they always counted on the 
 Lord’s aid, who watches with singular providence over 
 those who are faithful in His service. And so their 
 fields were better cared and their crops more abundant. 
 It appears they lived the first years of their married life 
 in Madrid, where a son was born to them, whom, like 
 good Christians, they reared up in the holy fear of 
 God. Here they entered into service as land-stewards 
 to a gentleman, named Iban de Vargas. Soon black 
 envy dogged their steps. The tenants, finding that our 
 saint’s fields were better cultivated than theirs, though 
 he spent less time at work, began to grieve over the 
 prosperity of the servant of God, and tried to put be- 
 tween him and his master. “Sir,” said one of them, 
 who had the boldness to accuse Isidore, “ sir, as a good 
 tenant of yours, I must tell you that Isidore goes to 
 work very late, and spends his time making the rounds 
 of churches instead of minding his business. If you 
 do not see after it, your property will be ruined.” 
 
 The master, in a rage, went to Isidore and bitterly 
 reprehended him, telling him he should not neglect his 
 duty for his devotions, which, of course, was perfectly 
 true, for duty is before devotion. At the same time we 
 should not take advantage of this fact to neglect our 
 pious practices, for which we can always find time after 
 complying with our obligations. The saint bore the 
 reprimand patiently, but said he could not and would 
 
ST. ISIDORE AND ST. MARY. 
 
 263 
 
 not for all tlie wealth of the world neglect his devo- 
 tional exercises ; but if his master, in the judgment of 
 a skilled farmer, had suffered any loss, he would make 
 it good,, as he should be sorry to do an injustice to any 
 man. The gentleman was calmed by this answer, 
 though not quite convinced, and resolved to keep his 
 eyes open for the future and see what was going on. 
 
 III. 
 
 The Lord never abandons His own when persecuted 
 for justice’ sake. Iban went one day to the fields and 
 found that really Isidore did come late to work, which 
 the saint never denied. When biding his time to scold 
 him, he saw, to his surprise, two pairs of oxen, white as 
 snow, ploughing on either side of Isidore. Mary, his 
 wife, who came with his breakfast, also saw this won- 
 derful sight. Iban de Vargas, in wonder, went to in- 
 vestigate the matter, but when he reached the place, 
 he was still more astonished to find only his servant, 
 and Mary, who had brought him his breakfast. He 
 asked the saint who were the young men who were 
 ploughing with him on either side. Isidore answered : 
 “ There has been nobody here, sir, except myself and 
 the Lord, whom I invoke at my work, and His mercy 
 and protection never fail me.*’ The gentleman was 
 convinced that God’s angels assisted his servant, and 
 supplied any loss occasioned by his devotions. “ Isi- 
 dore,” he said to him, “ I shall pay no attention to talk 
 and complaints about you henceforth. Do as you wish 
 from this on, for I confidently place my property in your 
 hands.” The two exemplary spouses were grateful for 
 this unlimited confidence put in them, and resolved 
 never to abandon their holy tenor of life. They conse 
 quently continued to hear Mass, to say their usual 
 prayers, to daily offer up their works to God, and to 
 
264 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLT. 
 
 keep themselves in His presence by holy aspirations to 
 Jesus and Mary, whose protection never failed them in 
 their tribulations and necessities. 
 
 A proof of this special providence was the following 
 miracle : One day in summer he tied his ass outside, 
 and went into the Church of St. Mary Magdalen to 
 pray as usual. A wolf came and attacked the poor 
 animal. Some boys, who saw it, ran in alarm to warn 
 the saint, but he quietly told them not to mind, “ Let 
 God’s will be done.” When he finished his prayers and 
 went out, he found the wolf dead and his ass in harness, 
 for which he again returned to the church to give God 
 thanks. 
 
 And how could the Lord refuse His special protection 
 to a servant so liberal and generous to the poor ? Like 
 Tobias, he had formed the resolution of assisting the 
 indigent as far as his means would allow — that is, to 
 give abundant alms if he had much, and if little to 
 divide that little with them ; and in case he had nothing, 
 to show them some kindness in word or deed. Guided 
 by these charitable principles, he gave away more 
 than he could conveniently spare, stimulated by the 
 wonders with which God encouraged his compas- 
 sionate charity. He was accustomed to distribute more 
 than usual on Saturdays, in honour of the Blessed 
 Virgin, who loves us all so dearly. On one occasion, 
 after giving away all the soup he had, another poor 
 person appeared looking for an alms. Having nothing 
 to give him, he told his wife, for God’s sake, to hand 
 him some of the meat, if any remained. She knew that 
 there was nothing, and went to the kitchen to show her 
 husband the empty pot ; but, to her great surprise, she 
 found it as full as it originally was, and she gave plenty 
 to the beggar and to others who came after him, 
 thanking and praising God for all His mercies. And 
 this was not the only one of the Lord’s miracles. 
 
ST. ISIDORE AND ST. MARY. 
 
 265 
 
 IV. 
 
 He was a member of a religious confraternity, the 
 members of which used to dine together on a certain 
 day each year. Isidore once failed to be present at the 
 hour named, haying spent too much time in the 
 churches, but his companions reserved his share of the 
 feast for him. Knowing this, he invited a number of 
 beggars to share it with him, and when the servant 
 went to bring it, to his intense astonishment he found 
 the dish full of meat, more than sufficient for all. The 
 saint and his guests gave thanks to God for his mercies, 
 and immediately after went to the church to renew 
 them. It cost him little, someone may say, when the Lord 
 met the expense. But not always so, for often he de- 
 prived himself of what he gave to the poor. And the 
 spirit of mercy was so strong in him that he would pity 
 the wants of the little birds of the air. One winter day 
 he was going in the snow with wheat to the mill, when 
 he met a flock of famished pigeons. Taking compassion 
 on them, he cleared away a good patch of snow, and 
 threw wheat on it for the poor things. He was re- 
 proached for this waste by a man who was also going 
 to the mill ; but on their arrival, the latter, to his great 
 astonishment, found Isidore’s sacks as full as if none 
 had been taken out of them. 
 
 Who, after all this, would not expect Isidore’s life to 
 be one of smiles and favours from heaven ? But no ; 
 the cross is the patrimony of good Christians, and so 
 bitterness and tribulations were not wanting to him to 
 offer to Him who died an ignominious death for us. 
 Not the least of them was what happened in his child’s 
 case. The poor thing accidentally fell into a deep well, 
 and his mother, regarding him as dead, weeping, called 
 her husband. Both went on their knees to beseech the 
 Lord to assist them in their affliction. The Lord heard 
 
266 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 their prayers, for immediately the water began to rise 
 in the well, carrying on its surface the poor child, whom 
 his father rescued safe and sound. No need to say the 
 saint blessed the God of mercy for this prodigy. In 
 the meantime they lived together in peace and mutual 
 forbearance, husband and wife regarding each other as 
 the representative of God, whose will they tried to con- 
 sult in all their actions and enterprises. Bleda and 
 other biographers, supported by constant tradition, 
 mention several other wonders wrought by the saint. 
 
 y. 
 
 He says that Isidore was going one day with Iban de 
 Vargas to see his property, and, being very thirsty from 
 fatigue, the master asked his servant if there were any 
 water about. The saint pointed out a place where there 
 was a spring. Thither went the master, but, finding it 
 completely dry, he complained that the saint had made 
 a fool of him. Isidore ran with his goad, and, like 
 another Moses, struck the hard ground with it, saying : 
 “ There is water here, if it is God’s will,” and imme- 
 diately a spring of clear water burst from the earth, and 
 remains to the present day. Elizabeth, wife of Charles V. 
 and mother of Philip II., built a church over it. Many 
 other fountains and springs are attributed to the inter- 
 vention of St. Isidore. 
 
 The master of the servant of God had an only daugh- 
 ter, named Mary, and she fell ill and died. Isidore, on 
 his return from the fields, taking pity on her parents’ 
 affliction, began to pray, and, laying his hand on the 
 girl, to the great wonder of all restored her to life. And 
 this was only one of many prodigies wrought by God 
 on his behalf. He was even carried to heaven in spirit, 
 and in ecstasy contemplated the divine mysteries. No 
 
ST. ISIDORE AKD ST. MARY. 
 
 267 
 
 wonder he should be full of piety and devotion. No 
 wonder, either, that his wife should try to vie with 
 him by imitating his virtues. In this saintly way they 
 lived some years in Madrid, till they removed to Cara- 
 quiz, of which place, according to some, Mary was a 
 native, and there they became living models for all the 
 families about, and there, also, under their new master, 
 several prodigies occurred. 
 
 VI. 
 
 One soon tires of the goods of earth, and becomes 
 satiated with the pleasures of the world, but the hunger 
 of sanctity in the heart of the just never cries enough. 
 Some say that for some time they were faithful imi- 
 tators of Joseph and Mary in their married life, and now 
 by mutual consent they separated, Mary remaining in 
 Caraquiz, and Isidore going to Tordelaguna, where he 
 entered the service of another master. His wife, in the 
 meantime, took care of a small church, which afterwards 
 was called Saint Mary de la Cabeza. She begged alms 
 to keep it in proper order, and took care that a lamp 
 should burn night and day before the Queen of Heaven. 
 In this she found her happiness, and she availed herself 
 of everything she saw and did to keep her heart more 
 and more united to God and the Blessed Virgin. The 
 streams, the birds, the stars, all things contributed to 
 this, for every creature invited her to love the Creator. 
 In the meantime her husband was daily growing more 
 pleasing in the sight of God, who, on His part, gave un- 
 equivocal proofs of the esteem He had for His servant, 
 such as increasing his wheat when he prayed for it for 
 the poor. The devil now tried to excite discord between 
 husband and wife, and availed himself of evil tongues 
 to inspire Isidore with doubts of his wife’s fidelity; but 
 
268 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 God soon dissipated them in a wonderful manner, and 
 proved her complete innocence. But this did not put 
 an end to evil talk, which Mary bore with meek- 
 ness and patience ; whilst her husband now believed 
 it not, but deeply felt the offence her detractors were 
 offering to God. He knew that the Lord loved them, 
 and this was sufficient for him. But God often permits 
 calumny and slander to purify just souls with the myrrh 
 of tribulation. 
 
 Isidore, now ripe for heaven, joyfully foresaw that the 
 time of his departure from this vale of tears was ap- 
 proaching, and prepared himself to go to receive his 
 crown and the hundred-fold of all the treasures he had 
 placed in the hands of the poor of Jesus Christ. His was 
 the death of the just, precious in the Lord’s sight. He 
 devoutly received the last sacraments, and exhorting all 
 to live in the practice of virtue, making acts of faith, 
 hope, charity, and contrition, and joining his hands 
 peacefully and devoutly, he delivered up his spirit to his 
 Creator, whom he had so fervently served in his mortal 
 career. He died about the year 1130, on the 28th of 
 November, according to Pseudo-Juliano. 
 
 He was buried in St. Andrew’s cemetery in Madrid, 
 which was the church most frequently visited by the 
 saint. After forty years his body was exhumed and 
 found intact. It was translated to the church, and the 
 Lord worked many miracles through his intercession, 
 which caused devotion to him to spread rapidly among 
 the people. After his death his devout widow retired to 
 Caraquiz, and did not return to Madrid, except to visit 
 the church of Atocha and that of Our Lady of Almu- 
 dena. She was a model for holy widows by her piety, 
 love of retirement, modesty, industry, contempt of the 
 world, and her charity to the poor. It is not known how 
 long she survived her husband, or what became of their 
 son, though some say he died before his parents. 
 
 It was also unknown where Mary’s remains resd 
 
BLESSED SEBASTIAN DE APARICIO. 269 
 
 except that they were laid in the church of which she 
 had care. She appeared one night to Francis de las 
 Cuevas, and told him that her body was buried in the 
 sacristy of the church. An examination was made, and 
 there it was discovered, and immediately the place was 
 filled with sweet aroma. This was in March, 1596, and 
 in 1615 the venerable remains were translated to the 
 convent of St. Francis in Tordelaguna. There was 
 great rejoicing in Madrid when the news arrived of 
 Isidore’s beatification, which Paul Y. proclaimed on the 
 14th of June, 1619, at the request of Philip III., and 
 the clergy and corporation of the city. The Pope ap- 
 pointed the 1 5th of May as his feast, though there was 
 an ancient custom of celebrating it on the 30th of No- 
 vember. The Lord performed numerous miracles in his 
 honour, curing the sick, giving hearing to the deaf, and 
 even the king himself was restored to health by touch- 
 ing his relics. 
 
 BLESSED SEBASTIAN DE APARICIO, GAR- 
 DENER, ROAD-MAKER, AND CARMAN. 
 
 I. 
 
 In Gudina, a little village of Galicia between the rivers 
 Fraga and Ribeira, a really picturesque spot on the divi- 
 sion line between the dioceses of Astorga and Orense, 
 there lived, at the beginning of the sixteenth century an 
 humble and pious family blessed by the Lord with a son, 
 whom his countrymen were afterwards to see elevated to 
 the honours of our altars. It was composed of Julian 
 de Aparicio and Teresa del Prado, the parents of our 
 hero, whose name was Sebastian. Though both were 
 
270 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 poor they yet knew how to enrich their children with the 
 most precious of all treasures, which is virtue. And, 
 indeed, they had need of it to bear the crosses which, as 
 to predilect children, the Father of mercies sent them, 
 not the least of which was to see their third child, Se- 
 bastian, attacked by the plague, which in 1514 deci- 
 mated Galicia. He was twelve years of age when he 
 was thus driven from his parents’ side and compelled to 
 live in a solitary hut, lest the other members of the family 
 might be infected. There young Aparicio spent days and 
 nights without more company than that of his angel 
 guardian, daily expecting death to come and end his 
 painful illness. But, at the same time, he did not want 
 the necessaries of life, for his loving mother, like an 
 anxious dove, would fly to her child’s nest, and knocking 
 at the door tell him she there left what he required. 
 The Lord never abandons His own ; and not seldom takes 
 advantage of human errors to make his beneficent pro- 
 vidence more apparent. Thus did it happen with our 
 patient youth. He was accustomed to only leave his 
 retreat to take the provisions his mother left for him, 
 and then return to his cabin to be free from the wolves 
 with which the neighbourhood was infested. Weakened 
 by sickness and acute pain, he one day forgot to secure 
 the door, when unexpectedly a ravenous wolf entered and 
 bit a tumour he had on his head. After opening it and 
 sucking the poisonous matter, he gently licked the sore, 
 and left the boy whole and sound. Such was the unex- 
 pected surgeon the Father of the poor sent to cure him. 
 This event, so evidently providential or prodigious, re- 
 stored him to liberty and the bosom of his afflicted 
 family. His religious parents never ceased to bless and 
 praise God for this singular favour, and took more pains 
 than ever to rear up in a Christian manner the child 
 whom the Lord had preserved by a miracle 
 
 Sebastian proved himself no less grateful to God 
 
BLESSED SEBASTIAN DE APAETCIO. 
 
 271 
 
 and his parents, acting the part of a true son to the 
 latter, and faithfully attending to all their commands ; 
 and, with regard to the Almighty, giving an edifying 
 example of fervour and devotion in the exact fulfilment 
 of his religious duties. During the time he remained 
 with his Christian family, whether engaged in caring a 
 small number of cattle, or in the work of the fields, he 
 learned to unite prayer to labour, to frequently offer his 
 toil to the King of glory, to daily say the holy Rosary in 
 honour of the Immaculate Virgin, and to often raise his 
 heart to God in fervent ejaculations. When the time 
 came for him to procure a decent livelihood by his own 
 exertions, he resolved, with his father’s blessing, to leave 
 his own country, like many of his neighbours, and go to 
 a strange one to push his fortune. How many, alas ! 
 when abandoning their own home for the same purpose, 
 forget the good maxims and drop the pious practices 
 they had learned in it ; and giving themselves up to a 
 dissipated, perhaps a licentious life, instead of the wealth 
 they sought find only the eternal death of their souls ! 
 This did not happen in Sebastian’s case. Resolved never, 
 on any account, to abandon the exercise of piety he had 
 learned from his parents, he went first to Salamanca, 
 where he entered the service of a noble widow. Then 
 he went to Estremadura, and got employment in Don 
 Pedro Figueroa’s house, and finally settled down in 
 Sanlucar de Barrameda, entering the service of a widow 
 with two daughters. Everywhere he tried to regulate 
 his life according to his early training : he avoided idle- 
 ness, bad company, the tavern, and other dangerous 
 places. He daily placed himself under the protection 
 of the Queen of Angels and the saints, for whom he had 
 a special devotion, and never omitted the holy Rosary, or 
 to approach the sacraments, as far as his duties per- 
 mitted. 
 
272 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 II. 
 
 But the devil laid snares for his virtue, and to pre- 
 serve his innocent purity he resolved on flight, which is 
 the surest means of victory in contests of this kind. A 
 farmer’s life, to which he had been reared, appeared to 
 him freer from danger than life in a town ; and as he had 
 by hard work and economy saved some small capital, he 
 made up his mind to take a little farm that would give 
 him employment the whole year round. He found a 
 place to his taste, situated in a lonely spot and provided 
 with a cabin sufficient for all his wants. Thither the 
 chaste youth went to reside, as if he were returning to 
 paradise lost. 
 
 And then indeed his heart enjoyed true peace and solid 
 content. Engaged on his manual labour, in all things he 
 found means to raise his mind to the God of mercies. 
 The birds, as well as the insects, the hard rocks equally 
 with the crystalline fountains, the fragrant flowers and 
 the dry trunks, the rain, the sunshine, all the spectacles 
 of nature, were monitors which told him to intone 
 canticles of praise to the Creator of such wonders, who 
 had freed him from the captivity of Babylon and placed 
 him in this garden of delights. The sanctification of his 
 soul, the cultivation of his land, the relief of the poor, 
 these were his sole occupation and care. And in the 
 midst of these duties, united to the consideration of 
 eternal truths and the mysteries of our holy religion, he 
 felt his soul so filled with benedictions that he would 
 not have changed his state for any other in the world, 
 Sebastian was a model of innocence, simplicity, modesty, 
 industry, recollection, and all virtues, to the inhabitants 
 of the district. As true sanctity admirably harmonises 
 with industry and labour, he cultivated his farm with 
 such care and solicitude that, with the blessing of 
 
BLESSED SEBASTIAN DE APARICIO. 
 
 273 
 
 heaven, his fields produced much more than they ever 
 did before, and this his neighbours often wondered at. 
 
 Nor is virtue opposed to a moderate desire of improv- 
 ing one’s fortune, if it he ordained to an honest and 
 Christian end. Guided by this principle, Sebastian con- 
 tinued for some years to increase his capital, without 
 forgetting the relief of the poor, to whom he always 
 gave in proportion to his harvest. But hearing people 
 talk of the richness and fertility of Mexico, or New 
 Spain, he formed the intention of going to it to admire 
 the Lord’s magnificence so lavishly displayed in His 
 creatures. For this purpose he determined on selling 
 his things and embarking at once for America, recom- 
 mending to the Lord, by day and by night, a matter of 
 such importance. 
 
 III. 
 
 There lived in Ayamonte, a place not far distant from 
 Sebastian’s, a young dependent of the owner of the 
 village. A young girl belonging to one of the most re- 
 ( spectable families fell madly in love with him, and they 
 mutually promised to marry. But as they knew her 
 relatives would not hear of such a thing, they were in 
 great difficulty as to how to carry out their purpose, and 
 seeing no other means of effecting it, they determined on 
 flight. They started off together, but being hotly pur- 
 sued, they were at last driven to take refuge in Se- 
 bastian’s cabin, thus eluding their pursuers, not, how- 
 ever, without previously undergoing great privations 
 and hardships in their journey. Unhappy the girl who 
 thus exposes her temporal and eternal welfare ! Sooner 
 or later the man will grow weary of her and the trouble 
 she caused him, and will seek means to be rid of her. 
 And so it happened in this poor creature’s case. 
 
 They entered the cabin, and finding the servant of 
 
 18 
 
274 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 God at home, the young man said to him: “ I beseech 
 you, brother, for the love of God, to receive and keep in 
 your own house, as your own sister, this poor young girl, 
 for I am obliged to leave her to escape from the hands of 
 those who pursue me. Do this act of charity and you 
 shall have a reward from heaven.” Sebastian, who had 
 ever words of consolation for the afflicted, and never 
 allowed an opportunity of serving his neighbour to pass, 
 thus answered this unexpected request : “ As I have no 
 other interest in doing what you ask than to serve my 
 Lord God, you may leave her and I will care her as a 
 sister.” The young man breathed as if a great weight 
 were lifted off his heart, and leaving the unfortunate girl 
 in charge of an unknown man, went his way and aban- 
 doned her. 
 
 Sebastian, knowing the difficulties of his perilous 
 situation, took every precaution that the breath of 
 scandal should not be raised against them, and for that 
 purpose completely abandoned his house to her after his 
 hours of labour, and sought accommodation for himself 
 elsewhere. But all this not appearing enough, he made 
 up his mind to carry out his intention of going to 
 America. So, calling her one day, he explained to her 
 that he had put off his journey up to this in order to be 
 of service to her, but was now determined to do so no 
 longer. Hearing from her, then, for the first time, the 
 history of her flight, he went to her friends and told 
 them where she was ; they came to her place of refuge, 
 and when Sebastian was delivering her up to them he 
 told them how the young man had entrusted her to his 
 charge, and how he had faithfully complied with his re- 
 quest, treating her in all things as if she had been his 
 own sister. Her relatives knew not how to thank the 
 gardener for his noble and Christian conduct, and were 
 anxious to give him some suitable reward, but the humble 
 servant of God firmly refused to receive anything from 
 
BLESSED SEBASTIAN DE APARICIO. 
 
 275 
 
 them, as he had done all for the love of God. Her 
 relatives then took her home, convinced now, we are 
 sure, that girls should not put belief in vain and fleeting 
 promises. 
 
 IY. 
 
 As for Sebastian, being now free from all embarrass- 
 ment, he grew daily more active and fervent in the ser- 
 vice of God, and determined to carry out at once the 
 plans with which he believed the Lord had inspired him. 
 He gave proper notice to his landlord of his intention of 
 giving up the farm, and after making due preparation 
 for his journey, embarked for the West Indies at the age 
 of thirty years, replete with merit and virtues. Our 
 traveller was far from thinking of the lofty designs Di- 
 vine Providence had in view in sending him to countries 
 so remote. His own principal object was to procure 
 enough to pass his old age decently, and have a larger 
 amount to give to the poor ; and the Lord’s was that he 
 might improve those new Christians, not by his learning 
 and science, but, as the decree of beatification says, by 
 the practical example of his humility and every kind of 
 virtue. After a favourable voyage he reached Hew 
 Spain, or Mexico, in 1533, the eleventh year after its 
 conquest by the Spaniards. He landed at Yera Cruz, 
 and fixed his residence not far from - Puebla de los 
 Angeles, where he commenced the reclamation of some 
 virginal soil. 
 
 Our farmer was surely overjoyed at the permanent 
 spring-like appearance of the country, and thanked God 
 for allotting to man so beautiful a dwelling. He grew 
 enthusiastic over the picturesque scenery, the high 
 mountains, the undulating plains, the broad rivers, 
 the crystalline fountains, the rich plumaged birds and 
 
276 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 glowing insects. How often wonld he cross the deep 
 Stoyac and visit the Babel of the Hew World, that 
 magnificent pyramid on which is perched the sanctuary 
 of the Virgin of Remedies, surrounded by cypresses ! 
 Here, with his beads in his hand, he would mount the 
 hundred and twenty steps to the broad platform of five 
 thousand square yards, and bless his venerated and be- 
 loved Lady, while admiring the vast unbroken plain. 
 But let us return to his domestic labours. 
 
 Herds of wild, untamed cattle w r andered over these 
 prairies, which no one had yet dared to domesticate, or 
 accustom to farm work. Sebastian, knowing the great 
 advantage it would be to the inhabitants to do so, es- 
 sayed the task with great success. In a short time, with 
 the help of God, whom he consulted in all his under- 
 takings, he had some few of them prepared for the 
 plough. After subduing a sufficient number for his own 
 purposes, he continued the task, to the great astonish- 
 ment and advantage of the people of the surrounding 
 villages, who could not but wonder at the facility with 
 which he succeeded in doing what they never dared to 
 attempt. This, together with his amiability to all, the 
 promptness with which he attended to the wants of 
 others, the fervour and zeal he displayed in God’s service, 
 on one hand, gained him the hearts of Indians and 
 Spaniards, and, on the other, practically showed all how 
 industry can be united to a faithful compliance with 
 Christian doctrine. These favourable results inspired 
 him with new enterprises for the common benefit, whilst 
 he endeavoured to please God in all things, and promote 
 the glory of Jesus, the only object of his love, and the 
 sweetness of his soul. 
 
BLESSED SEBASTIAN DE APARICIO. 
 
 277 
 
 y. 
 
 Observing the difficulty of carrying merchandise from 
 the seaports to the interior, he resolved to establish a 
 regular service of carts for the purpose. And this reso- 
 lution he came to, despite the immense difficulties that lay 
 in his road in the shape of lofty mountains, immense 
 plains, deep rivers, and other almost insuperable obstacles. 
 But what cannot a decided will accomplish ? In a short 
 time the streets of Mexico were traversed by his carts, 
 to the great astonishment of the inhabitants, who up to 
 then had never seen such vehicles on their roads. They 
 found Sebastian’s convoy, who, after giving an order to 
 a friend for the carts, had gone on to the capital to offer 
 his services to the royal ministers on behalf of those 
 who were working the mines of Santa Maria de Zacate- 
 cas. Convinced of the utility of the idea, and the great 
 advantages that should spring from it, as well in the 
 interests of commerce as of the royal treasury, the 
 ministers accepted the offer of the servant of God, and 
 took him into the public service at a high salary. But 
 how was it possible to utilise those vehicles in a virgin 
 country totally unprovided with roads ? So the first 
 thing Sebastian had to do to carry out his undertaking 
 was to open a means of communication between Mexico 
 and Zacatecas, and between Zacatecas and Puebla. These 
 towns were soon blessed with commodious roads, in the 
 laying out of which Sebastian discovered a talent far 
 above what might be expected from an uneducated man. 
 He himself superintended the works, and often drove 
 the carts with his goad in one hand and his beads in 
 the other. God blessed his industry and piety ; for not- 
 withstanding his large alms to the poor, his means ra- 
 pidly increased, and he appeared to have struck an inex- 
 
278 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 haustible mine. God was repaying him the hundred- 
 fold for what he bestowed on the needy. 
 
 His industry, charity, humility, and Christian fervour 
 made him beloved, not only by the European settlers, 
 but by the Indians, whom he always treated in so kindly 
 a manner that they looked on him as a father. His com- 
 pany or his recommendation was, as far as they were con- 
 cerned, a safe-conduct to anyone who wished to visit 
 their settlements. In addition to the virtues mentioned 
 above, he practised patient meekness under reverses ; so 
 that if his carts should ever tumble, as sometimes hap- 
 pened, into any of the many ravines which lay in his 
 path, instead of cursing, swearing, and blaspheming, as 
 others do in like circumstances, he called on the sweet 
 names of Jesus and Mary, and under their protection 
 tried to remedy the misfortune. In this way did he pass 
 several years — an example and model to all carmen. But 
 though he acquired wealth at this business, without the 
 slightest infringement of conscience, yet he missed the 
 peace and retirement afforded by his farming life, and 
 so he determined to return to it. 
 
 VI. 
 
 With this end in view he settled down in Cupelteque, 
 half a league from the capital, where he again began to 
 tame wild cattle and cultivate the land. He employed 
 many hands at this work, and not only looked after their 
 temporal interests, but more particularly those of their 
 souls. His zeal to prevent offences to God is above all 
 praise. He never allowed any of his dependents to com- 
 mit excess in act or word without instantly correcting 
 him with all kindness and charity, and no one could, or 
 ever did, take offence at his meek rebukes. His inex- 
 
BLESSED SEBASTIAN.DE APARICIO. 
 
 *279 
 
 haustible charity and mercy made him the common 
 father of the Spaniards and Indians of Cupelteqne. To 
 some he gave food in their distress, to others seed to sow 
 their ground, for others he ploughed their land, to the 
 sick he sent his own labourers to do their work and put 
 in their crop without recompense of any kind, and to 
 needy young girls he gave dowries to enable them to get 
 married : in fine, all who were struggling under the 
 weight of the cross, or were buried in misery, found in 
 him a helper and consoler. And yet, despite this un- 
 limited generosity, his capital daily increased, wealth ap- 
 pearing to have the virtue of multiplying in his hands. 
 
 He understood that a family of good birth was reduced 
 to great misery. Thither went the angel of the poor. 
 He supplied all their wants, lent sufficient sums to marry 
 the three daughters, and when the husband died, never 
 demanded the return of one penny from his widow. On 
 another occasion he saw in the streets of Mexico an ac- 
 quaintance of his in the hands of the police ; and on 
 inquiring the cause, he was told it was for a debt of 
 three thousand dollars. He immediately paid the sum, 
 and obtained his friend’s release. We should, however, 
 become tedious if we related, one by one, the acts of 
 mercy and generosity he performed. He never sum- 
 moned his own debtors to the court, and went to the 
 assistance of others who were pushed by their creditors. 
 And yet his means were still increasing, for heaven 
 rained down on him new benedictions day by day. 
 
 Sad was the spectacle presented on a certain day by 
 the inhabitants of Cupelteque. Some moped about in a 
 melancholy way; some sat silent at home, others dropped 
 involuntary tears, and it was all because the Lord had 
 visited their common father, the good Sebastian, with 
 a serious illness. The very sun did not appear to shine 
 as usual. The bell announcing the administration of the 
 Viaticum was scarcely heard when the whole village 
 flocked to accompany it to the sick man's house in proof 
 
280 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 of their gratitude. All wept over the impending loss of 
 their shield and protector. Sebastian alone, conformable 
 to the Divine Will, tranquilly accepted the blow, and de- 
 sired to peacefully leave this exile to go to enjoy God 
 for all eternity. Comforted with the last|sacraments, he 
 made his will, leaving all his property to pious institu- 
 tions and his chattels to the poor. But the Father of 
 mercies heard the prayers of the afflicted people, and 
 content with the sacrifice of the will, restored him to 
 health, reserving him for greater things. 
 
 Sebastian lived unmarried up to sixty years, but now 
 changed his mind, and took to wife a poor, but very 
 virtuous girl, who, however, died a year after their mar- 
 riage. He gave back her dowry to her friends, and 
 removed a short distance from Mexico to blunt his grief 
 in some measure. He bought a place at Tlalneplantla, 
 and there commenced again his usual field labours, which 
 he considered so useful to the spiritual advancement of 
 his soul. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Here he sought and found a new virtuous companion 
 in wedlock ; but his second wife did not live long either. 
 He had gone from home one day, and she, in her anxiety 
 to look for his coming, had got up into a tree for the 
 purpose ; but slipping, or a branch breaking, she fell and 
 received injuries from which, despite all medical skill, 
 the poor } r oung woman died. This new misfortune, 
 how T ever, was not sufficient to make him fail in his prac- 
 tices of piety ; for, on the contrary, realising more keenly 
 the fleetingness of things earthly, he redoubled his efforts 
 to secure the everlasting kingdom. To this end, in dress 
 and food he mortified his tastes, denied his body all 
 comfort and rest, slept but a short time on the hard 
 ground, and missed no opportunity of practising self- 
 denial and penance. 
 
BLESSED SEBASTIAN DE APARICIO. 
 
 281 
 
 The Lord again visited him with another serious ill- 
 ness, which he received as coming from the hands of 
 God. When he recovered from it, he resolved to think 
 of nothing but the affairs of his soul. Night and day he 
 prayed the Almighty to manifest to him His holy will, 
 that he might fulfil it with all exactness. The Lord 
 wished to transplant that fragrant lily to the garden of 
 religious life, as well for the purpose that the inmates of 
 the convent might admire the sanctity with which Sebas- 
 tian was able to adorn his soul in the world, as to crown 
 the virtue of the now venerable old man. And so, after 
 six years of prayer and good works the Lord gave him 
 to understand how much He would be pleased to see him 
 in the retirement of the cloister. The fervent Galician 
 was not deaf to the divine voice. Confiding in God, 
 without paying attention to the representations of his 
 friends, he disposed of all his property, and distributed 
 the proceeds to the poor ; and then, after various trials 
 and temptations, he became a lay brother in the Mexi- 
 can convent of St. Francis, on the 9th of June, 1573, 
 at the age of seventy- one years. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Here he gave the very religious edification by his 
 attention and diligence in all the duties belonging to his 
 office. Then, by order of his superiors, he went to San- 
 tiago de Tecali, and afterwards to Puebla de los An- 
 geles. His duty in this last convent was to collect 
 the alms, which he did going round with his cart, the 
 reins in one hand, his beads in the other. The Lord 
 often favoured him in his excursions with the visit 
 of angels, and bestowed on him the gift of miracles, 
 and other gifts no less extraordinary. But though 
 grateful for them, he did not think much of them, 
 
282 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 his whole anxiety being to gather up merits, and daily 
 become more pleasing in the eyes of God by recollec- 
 tion, observance, and penitence. At last, when warned 
 by the Holy Ghost that the end of his long exile was 
 approaching, he prepared for it as if he had to combat 
 with all the powers of hell. He bade good-bye to all, 
 and after fervent acts of faith, hope, charity, and 
 contrition, repeated constantly during the ten days his 
 illness lasted, calling on the sweet names of Jesus and 
 Mary, he exchanged this mortal life for the eternal, 
 after a career of ninety- eight years, replete with victories 
 and deserts. Pius VI., on the 12th of September, 1789, 
 beatified our servant of God. His sepulchre became 
 famous for the many graces obtained by those who im- 
 plored his intercession. 
 
 ST. GODRICK, PEDDLER AND HERMIT. 
 
 (From “ Butler’s Lives of the Saints.”) 
 
 I. 
 
 He was born of very mean parents, at Walpole, in 
 Norfolk, and in his youth carried about little peddling 
 wares, which he sold in villages. Having by degrees 
 improved his stock, he frequented cities and fairs, and 
 made several voyages by sea to traffic in Scotland. In 
 one of these he called at Holy Island, or Lindisfarne, 
 where he was charmed and exceedingly edified with the 
 retirement and religious deportment of the monks, and 
 especially with the account which they gave him of the 
 wonderful life of St. Cuthbert. He inquired of them 
 every particular relating to him, visited every corner of 
 that holy solitude and of the neighbouring Isle of 
 
ST. GODRICK. 
 
 283 
 
 Fame, and, falling on his knees, prayed with many 
 tears for grace to imitate the fervour of that saint in 
 serving God, resolving for that purpose to give up all 
 earthly pretensions. He entered on a new course of 
 life by a penitential, devout pilgrimage to Jerusalem, 
 and visited Compostella on his way home. After his 
 return into Norfolk he accepted the charge of house- 
 steward in the family of a very rich man. The servants 
 were not very regular, and for their private junketings 
 often trespassed on their neighbours. Godrick, finding 
 he was not able to prevent these injustices, and that the 
 nobleman took no notice of his complaints about them, 
 being easy as long as he was no sufferer himself, left 
 his place, for fear of being involved in the guilt of 
 such an injustice. 
 
 After making a pilgrimage to St. Giles’, in France, 
 and to Rome, he went to the north of England, in order 
 the better to carry into execution his design of devoting 
 himself wholly to a retired life. A fervent servant of 
 God, named Godwin, who had passed a considerable 
 time in the monastery of Durham, and by conversing 
 with the most holy monks, and exercising himself in the 
 interior and exterior practices of all virtues, was well 
 qualified to be a director to an inexperienced novice, 
 joined our saint, and they led together an austere an- 
 choretical life in a wilderness situated to the north of 
 Carlisle, serving one another, and spending both the 
 days and nights in the praises of God. After two years 
 God called Godwin to himself by a happy death after a 
 short sickness. St. Godrick, having lost his companion, 
 made a second painful pilgrimage to Jerusalem. After 
 his return he passed some time in the solitude of 
 Streneshalch, now Whitby ; but after a year and some 
 \ months went to Durham to offer up his prayers before 
 the shrine of St. Cuthbert, and from thence retired into 
 the desert of Finchal or Finkley, three miles from 
 Durham, near the river Wear. St. John Baptist and 
 
284 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 St. Cuthbert he chose for his principal patrons and 
 models. The austerities which he practised are rather 
 to be admired than imitated. He had his regular tasks 
 of devotion, consisting of psalms and other prayers 
 which he had learned by heart, and which he constantly 
 recited at midnight, break of day, and other canonical 
 hours, besides a great number of other devotions. 
 Though he was ignorant of the very elements of learning, 
 he was too well experienced in the happy art of con- 
 versing with God and his own soul ever to be at a loss 
 how to employ his time in solitude. Whole days and 
 nights seemed to be too short for his rapturous con- 
 templations, one of which he often wished, with St. 
 Bruno, he could have continued without interruption for 
 eternity, in inflamed acts of adoration, compunction, 
 love, or praise. His patience under the sharpest pains 
 of sickness or ulcers, and all manner of trials was 
 admirable, but his humility was yet more astonishing. 
 His conversation was meek, humble, and simple. He 
 concealed as much as possible from the sight and 
 knowledge of all men, whatever might procure their 
 esteem ; and he was even unwilling that anyone should 
 see or speak with him. Yet, this he saw himself 
 obliged to allow on certain days every week to such as 
 came with the leave of the Prior of Durham, under 
 whose care and obedience he lived. A monk of that 
 house was his confessor, said Mass for him, and adminis- 
 tered to him the sacraments in a chapel adjoining to his 
 cell, which the holy man had built in honour of St. John 
 Baptist. He was most averse to all pride and vanity, 
 and never spoke of himself but as the most sinful of 
 creatures, a counterfeit hermit, an empty phantom of a 
 religious man : lazy, slothful, proud, and imperious, 
 abusing the charity of good people who assisted him 
 with their alms. But the more the saint humbled 
 himself the more did God exalt him by his grace and 
 by wonderful miraculous gifts. 
 
ST. G0DK1CK. 
 
 285 
 
 A monk of Durham once paid him a visit, and their 
 conversation turned on Thomas á Becket, the illustrious 
 Chancellor of England, who had just been promoted to 
 the archiepiscopal See of Canterbury. The religious 
 asked him if he had any acquaintance with that holy 
 and distinguished ecclesiastic. “ With the eyes of the 
 body,” said the hermit, “I have never seen him, but with 
 the eyes of the soul I know him well, and could pick 
 him out from a crowd.” And then he added, “Your 
 Reverence can carry him a message I have to send him. 
 With my deepest respect, tell him not to forget to 
 carry out what he has resolved on, for it is pleasing 
 to God, though he shall have to suffer for it bitter 
 tribulations. He shall be persecuted, driven from his 
 flock, but in the end will return triumphant to his 
 people.” The monk complied with his request, and 
 told the prelate in a letter what passed at his interview 
 with the hermit. The archbishop thanked him and 
 recommended himself to the good man’s prayers. 
 
 II. 
 
 It has always been the misfortune of ambitious 
 governors without the fear of God, and who, in their 
 high positions, regard rather private interests than the 
 prosperity of their people, to put their sickle in the 
 harvest of others, to rob the sanctuary and deprive the 
 pastors of the Church of the free exercise of their sacred 
 functions. One of these was the violent and cruel 
 Henry II. of England. Thomas was raised by his 
 influence to the See of Canterbury, but he soon expe- 
 rienced the truth of our solitary’s prophecy. Driven 
 from his flock on account of the firmness with which he 
 defended the rights of the Church and condemned the 
 injustices of the king, veiled under the name of rights, 
 
286 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 lie was persecuted not only in England but in France, 
 where he had found a charitable asylum. When 
 Henry found that the Cistercians of Pontigny gave 
 hospitality to the persecuted prelate, he threatened 
 their brethren in England with the extinguishment of 
 their Order in that country if Thomas were not ex- 
 pelled from all their houses. Sometime before leaving 
 Pontigny, Thomas sent a messenger to the holy hermit to 
 ask what would be the issue of this afflicting tragedy. 
 “Go,” said Godrick, “and tell your prelate to guard 
 himself against vanity from the ovation which in a 
 short time he shall receive from his flock ; and let him 
 know that his joy shall soon be turned into grief, for in 
 nine months after his triumphal return he mast seal the 
 immunity of the Church with his blood.” Terrible was 
 the tempest brewing, and the Lord was thus preparing 
 that magnanimous heart to brave it. The holy prelate, 
 when praying one night in tears at the monastery of 
 Pontigny, for the peace of his flock, heard in confirma- 
 tion of Godrick’ s prophecy a voice which clearly and 
 distinctly said to him : “ Thomas, Thomas, my Church 
 shall be glorified in thy blood.” “ Who art thou, 
 Lord,” said the saint, “who thus speakest to me?” 
 And the same voice answered : “ I am Jesus, Son of the 
 living God, who died for thee.” Inundated in a sea of 
 tears, Thomas prepared to give his life for the Spouse 
 of the Immaculate Lamb. And so it happened. After 
 his return to his see, at some hasty remark of the king, 
 several assassins went and murdered the holy archbishop 
 in his own cathedral, on the 29th of December, 1170. 
 
 III. 
 
 Such were the lamentable events which, according to 
 Godrick’s prophecy, were to fill the Church of England, 
 
ST. BONIFACE. 
 
 287 
 
 and even the whole nniverse, with grief. The holy 
 hermit had the consolation of not having to witness 
 them, as he died on the 25th of May, seven months 
 before they occurred. During the last years of his 
 life he was afflicted with painful ailings, which he bore 
 with edifying joy and conformity to God’s will. Re- 
 duced to a skeleton, his tongue never ceased repeating 
 the august names of the three Divine Persons : “ Glory 
 be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy 
 Ghost.” A little before he expired he was visited by 
 St. Peter, Prince of the Apostles, whom he received 
 with transports of joy, and from whom he heard the 
 news that he should die on the octave of the Ascension of 
 Our Lord. Fortified with all the aid of the Church, 
 and attended by the religious of Durham, at daybreak, 
 on the day foretold by him, he slept the sleep of the 
 just, after thirty-three years of solitary life. His coun- 
 tenance displayed wonderful grace and sweetness. He 
 was buried in the Oratory of St. John Baptist, which 
 he himself had built, where the Lord made his name 
 celebrated by numerous miracles, and which was after- 
 wards transformed into a church under his invocation. 
 
 ST. BONIFACE, STEWARD. 
 
 I. 
 
 Infinite are the mercies of God ; and though it is true 
 that we should not presume on this infinite mercy to 
 continue in our disorders and sins, as the Lord may, on 
 account of this very presumption, cut short the thread 
 of our life and precipitate us into eternal torments, yet it 
 is no less certain that whilst we live that loving Father 
 
288 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 i 3 waiting for ns, calls at the door of our heart with 
 frequent inspirations, and is always ready to enter and 
 give us the kiss of love and pardon. Happy he who 
 is not deaf to the divine call ! An example of this un- 
 limited mercy is the history we are going to relate. At 
 the beginning of the fourth century there lived in Rome 
 a woman named Aglae, young, beautiful, noble, and 
 extremely rich. She was the daughter of Acacius, 
 of senatorial rank, who had been Pro-Consul of the 
 Eternal City. Her wealth was extraordinary. She had 
 three times given, at her own expense, the public games 
 of the capital. She had sixty-three agents of her pro- 
 perty subordinated to her steward, Boniface. The love 
 of vanity and of the world had conquered the hearts of 
 both, and brought them to live in scandalous and cri- 
 minal intercourse. Besides, Boniface was given to 
 drink and other excesses, which contrasted with his 
 natural goodness of heart. He generously helped the 
 poor, and when he found any stranger or pilgrim, he 
 kept him in his house, and cordially assisted him. At 
 night he used to go through the streets and console the 
 afflicted and succour the distressed. He never oppressed 
 his tenants, and if anyone was unable to pay his rent, 
 he used his influence with Aglae to make her extend 
 her liberality and indulgence to him. God has said that 
 charity covereth a multitude of sins ; and happy was 
 Boniface, who paid attention to the graces which the 
 prayers of the poor brought to him from heaven. 
 
 At last Aglae, touched by divine grace, called her 
 steward, and said to him: “Brother Boniface, you 
 know what crimes we have been guilty of, without 
 thinking there was a God above us, to whom we shall 
 have to render a strict account of our actions. I have 
 heard from some Christians that the persons who honour 
 those who suffer for Jesus Christ shall become parti- 
 cipators in their crown in the kingdom of eternal glory. 
 
ST. BONIFACE. 
 
 289 
 
 They have told me that in the East Christians are per- 
 secuted, and many surrender their bodies to the execu- 
 tioners sooner than deny Jesus. Go, then, and bring 
 us some relics of the martyrs, that by honouring their 
 memory and building oratories worthy of them we 
 and others may obtain eternal life through their heroic 
 sufferings.” 
 
 Boniface took considerable sums to recover the sacred 
 relics, got ready twelve horses and three litters, bought 
 ointments and aromas to honour the holy athletes, and 
 prepared to depart. The grace of God was now working 
 in the steward’s heart. The Lord wished to repay him 
 for the mercy he had shown the poor, and the honesty, 
 indulgence, and kindness with which he had treated his 
 mistress’s tenants. Before starting he went to bid 
 good-bye to Aglae, and said to her : “ Lady, if I find 
 relics of martyrs, I shall bring them to you ; but if they 
 bring you my body will you receive it as that of a 
 martyr ?” Aglae, believing he said this as a boast, and 
 not from any desire he had of washing out his stains in 
 his own blood, answered : “ When will you cease to be 
 a drunkard and an exaggerator ? Go, I tell you, and 
 bring me relics of saints. And though I, a sinner, am 
 unworthy of such a favour, yet I hope very soon to ve- 
 nerate those holy remains. May the Lord God of the 
 Universe, who took for our sake the form of a slave, and 
 shed His blood for the human race, send His angel before 
 you, and benignly direct your steps, and, unmindful of 
 my faults, comply with my wishes.” Boniface took to 
 the road. Penetrated with compunction, and intimately 
 persuaded of his unworthiness for such a high commis- 
 sion, he resolved to eat no flesh meat nor drink wine on 
 his journey, in order to appease the Divine Justice ; and, 
 uniting prayers to his tears and penance, he said, raising 
 his eyes to heaven : “ Lord God omnipotent Father of 
 thy only Son, be propitious to thy servant, and direct 
 
290 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 mv steps, that Thy name may be glorified for ages to 
 come. Amen.” This prayer ended, he continued his 
 journey. The Church of the West at that time enjoyed 
 profound peace. The Emperor Maxentius, crowned in 
 Rome in 306, apparently embraced Christianity in order 
 to flatter the Roman people. Simulating more kindness 
 and humanity than his predecessors, he ordered the per- 
 secution against the Church to cease. But such was 
 not the case in the East. The persecution begun by 
 Diocletian was continued with renewed activity under 
 Galerius and Maximian Daiai above all, in Cilicia, under 
 the government of Simplicius. Tarsus, the capital of 
 this province, was the place to which Boniface directed 
 his steps. As soon as he arrived and heard that they 
 were subjecting the martyrs to torments, he told his 
 servants to look for an inn and rest their horses, as he 
 was going to witness the sufferings he was told of. 
 
 II. 
 
 When he arrived at the place he beheld a spectacle 
 which filled the bystanders with horror ; the martyrs 
 were undergoing various kinds of torments. One was 
 hung by the feet over flames, another extended on four 
 pieces of wood, which wrenched his bones. The flesh 
 of this one was torn off with iron pincers, the hands of 
 another were being chopped off, some were cruelly 
 flogged, and others punished in different ways ; but 
 all, numbering twenty, were being treated with the ut- 
 most cruelty. The greater their torments, however, 
 the more did the constancy of these victors over the 
 devil shine forth. At sight of this tragic scene Boniface 
 approached them, and cried out : “ Great is the God of 
 the Christians ! Great is the God of the holy martyrs ! 
 I ask you, servants of Christ, as a favour, to intercede 
 for me with the Lord that I may be a worthy companion 
 
 
ST. BONIFACE. 
 
 291 
 
 of yours, and fight also with the devil/’ He then threw 
 himself at the feet of the holy confessors, tenderly kissed 
 their chains, and inspired them with courage, saying : 
 “ Fight bravely, athletes and martyrs of the faith ; 
 trample on the devil ; a little more patience. This short 
 toil will be followed by eternal rest, these brief moments 
 by a joy without end. The body will yield under the 
 torture, but the soul will fly to glory, accompanied by 
 an army of angels.” 
 
 When Simplicius noticed what Boniface was doing, 
 he asked : “ Who is that that mocks me and the gods P 
 Bring him here.” When he was brought before him, 
 the Governor said : “ Who are you who thus despise 
 the splendour of my justice ?” “I am a Christian,” 
 answered the steward, “ and as such I despise you and 
 your tribunal.” “What is your name?” asked the 
 judge. “ I have already told you I am a Christian ; 
 but if you wish to know my name, I am called Boni- 
 face.” After a few more questions and vigorous 
 answers, when he refused to sacrifice to the gods, and 
 called them impostors and fomenters of vice, Simplicius 
 ordered him to be hung up and his flesh torn from his 
 bones. During this barbarous treatment Boniface 
 uttered not a complaint, but kept his eyes fixed on his 
 suffering companions, which encouraged him to bear 
 his torments patiently. After an hour the judge again 
 tried his constancy. “Miserable man,” said he, “ offer 
 sacrifice to the gods, and have compassion on yourself.” 
 “ Thrice more miserable man,” replied the martyr ; “are 
 you not ashamed to invite me so often to sacrifice when 
 I told you I do not even wish to hear your idols men- 
 tioned?” The governor ordered the executioners to 
 sharpen pieces of cane and push them into the quick of 
 \ his nails. The saint raised his eyes to heaven, and re- 
 ceived that torment with joy, without betraying the 
 slightest sign of weakness. When the inhuman judge 
 
292 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 found that Boniface was above all his cruel inventions, 
 and to a certain degree insensible to his torments, he 
 ordered melted lead to be poured into his mouth. Before 
 the execution of this order the martyr wished to implore 
 the divine aid, and looking up to heaven he prayed 
 thus : “ I give Thee thanks, my Lord Jesus Christ. Son 
 of the Living God, come to Thy servant’s aid, comfort 
 me in these pains, and permit me not to be conquered 
 by this impious governor. Thou knowest that I suffer 
 all these torments for Thy name’s sake.” His prayer 
 ended, he turned to the other confessors of the 
 faith, and said to them : “ I beseech you, servants of 
 Jesus, to pray for me, your servant.” The saints all 
 answered with one voice: “May our Lord Jesus Christ 
 send you His angel, and free you from the hands of this 
 unjust judge, and assist you to soon end your career, 
 and inscribe your name among those of His heirs.” 
 When this prayer was finished, and he had answered 
 “ Amen,” a general shout was raised among the people : 
 “ Great is the God of the Christians ! Great the God of 
 the holy martyrs ! Christ, Son of God, save us : we 
 all believe in Thee, and have recourse to Thee. Down 
 with the false gods ! ” And the crowd rushed at the 
 altar and destroyed it, and threw stones at the judge. 
 Fearing the tumult, he retired, and put off the punish- 
 ment to another occasion. 
 
 Early the following day Simplicius ordered Boniface 
 to be brought before his tribunal, and said to him when 
 he arrived : “ Whence, poor wretch, comes this madness 
 of putting your trust in a man condemned as a malefac- 
 tor ?” “ Hold your tongue, unhappy man,” answered 
 
 the martyr, “ and profane not with your impure lips the 
 name of my Lord Jesus Christ, for if He died on a 
 cross it was to save the human race.” Enraged anew 
 at the saint’s integrity and constancy, the judge ordered 
 him to be lowered head foremost into a caldron of 
 
ST. BONIFACE. 
 
 293 
 
 boiling pitch. The executioners prepared to comply 
 with this cruel command, and the invincible martyr 
 fearlessly allowed himself to be seized, but first armed 
 himself with the sign of the cross. The angel of the 
 Lord at once descended, and touched the caldron when 
 they were about throwing Boniface into it. At his 
 touch the metal melted like wax, and the pitch flowing 
 about, scalded several of the assistants to death, but left 
 the saint intact. The governor, alarmed at the power 
 of Christ, and wondering at the invincible patience of 
 the martyr, ordered him to be beheaded, in these words : 
 “We condemn to capital punishment this man, who 
 refuses to obey the commands of the emperors.” The 
 soldiers immediately conducted the glorious confessor 
 from the tribunal to the place of execution. The holy 
 martyr, making the sign of the cross, asked them for a 
 few moments to pray. This permission being granted, 
 he turned towards the East, and thus addressed the 
 Lord: “Omnipotent Lord, Father of my Lord Jesus 
 Christ ! abandon not thy servant ; send me Thy holy 
 angel, and receive my soul in peace, that, free from the 
 snares of the deadly dragon, it may join the choir of thy 
 holy martyrs. Rescue, O Lord, Thy people from these 
 impious men ; and to Thee be all honour, together with 
 Thy Only-begotten and the holy and vivifying Spirit, 
 for ever and ever. Amen.” Then he knelt down, and 
 was immediately beheaded. At the same moment a 
 fearful earthquake occurred, and made all cry out : 
 “ Great, omnipotent is the God of the Christians!” In 
 the meantime his servants were seeking him, and, 
 hearing of his execution, purchased his remains at a 
 large price, with which they returned to their mistress, 
 who received them with all honour, and built a church 
 over the place where they were buried. This event 
 happened in the year 307. 
 
 In 1603 the sacred relics of St. Boniface were 
 
294 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 discovered, together with those of St. Alexis, in the 
 church of the latter, which formerly was called after 
 our glorious steward. Their hones rest in two rich 
 marble urns under the high altar. 
 
 As to Aglae, she had already resolved on abandoning 
 the world, and was now confirmed in her good intentions 
 by the miracles which the Lord worked through the 
 intercession of Boniface. She consequently sold all she 
 possessed and gave it to the poor, and she liberated her 
 numerous slaves, retaining only a few young girls, in 
 w r hose company she dedicated herself to the divine ser- 
 vice. Great was the fervour of all, but Aglae advanced 
 so far in her contempt of the world and her love for the 
 cross, that she merited from God the grace of casting 
 out devils, and the gift of curing all kinds of diseases. 
 She thus lived thirteen years in the exercise of all vir- 
 tues, and then slept the sleep of the just, and was buried 
 in peace near the glorious martyr, Boniface. Such is 
 the generosity with which God corresponds to those 
 who follow His inspirations, be their crimes never so 
 great. He never denies pardon to those w r ho truly 
 repent, nor refuses to convert into vessels of grace and 
 charity those who were vessels of corruption and wrath. 
 
 VENERABLE NUNCIO SULPRICIO, BLACK- 
 SMITH’S APPRENTICE. 
 
 I. 
 
 In this book young girls will find brilliant examples of 
 other girls, who, in humble positions in life, knew how 
 to emulate the heroic virtues of St. Ines, celebrated by 
 both the Greek and Latin fathers of the Church. Young 
 píen will also find suitable ones, though they cannot be 
 
VENERABLE NUNCIO SULPRICfO. 
 
 295 
 
 as numerous as are the various professions to which 
 men dedicate themselves. In any case, however, they 
 can look to St. Louis Gonzaga and St. Stanislaus de 
 Kostka, after whose model so many other saints were 
 formed, such as Blessed John Berchmans, raised to the 
 honour of our altars by the immortal Pius IX., to the 
 
 [ confusion or consolation of those who imagine that 
 sanctity is impossible without the aid of extraordinary 
 graces. But, if anyone should consider these improper 
 models for artisans, he will find a bright mirror in the edi- 
 fying, though obscure and laborious life of Nuncio 
 Sulpricio, who, in the toil of a forge, and the pains of 
 acute diseases, bequeathed to every class of workmen an 
 example of solid and Christian virtues. The Sacred 
 Congregation of Rites has already admitted his cause of 
 beatification, and we may hope to soon see him num- 
 bered among the saints. 
 
 He was born on the 13th of April, 1817, in Pesco 
 Sansonesco, a village in the diocese of La Pena, in the 
 kingdom of Naples. His parents were Dominick Sul- 
 pricio and Rose Luciani, who knew how to ennoble their 
 poverty by the exercise of Christian virtues. To them 
 the child might trust his future ; but in a few years he 
 was deprived of his father, and after his mother’s second 
 marriage had to seek an asylum in the house of his 
 uncle, Joseph Luciani. The latter received him kindly 
 and as soon as he was able to do any work in his forge, 
 placed him under the direction of his son Dominick, a 
 man of a hard disposition, and ill-humoured even to 
 cruelty. His good grandmother took charge of his re- 
 ligious education. To the wishes of both, Nuncio cor- 
 responded much better than might have been expected 
 from his tender years. Thenceforth, through the good 
 i advice of his grandmother, he became so addicted to 
 intimate dealing with God, that nothing was more pleas- 
 ing to him than to spend long hours in prayer, or in 
 
296 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 other exercises of piety. To the simplicity and candour 
 of a child he united the prudence of a fervent adult. 
 He avoided childish games proper to his age, as also the 
 company of other boys, particularly the bad and ill- 
 reared. As soon as he came out from school, where he 
 was distinguished by his application and good conduct, 
 unless he went to pay a visit to the Blessed Sacrament, 
 in imitation of his patron and model, St. Louis Gonzaga, 
 he returned immediately to his work with edifying 
 diligence. Only once was he found with his fellow- 
 pupils outside the school, and it was when he went to 
 accompany the Viaticum to the house of a sick person, 
 and then by his modesty and reverence he set an ex- 
 ample to the rest, into whose minds he tried to infuse 
 his own feelings and the holy fear of God 
 
 II. 
 
 In recompense for his toil they could give him no 
 more pleasing reward than to permit him to go to hear 
 the hymns of the Church, which he would afterwards 
 repeat at his work. He also took great pleasure in 
 attending at Mass and the sacred ceremonies, at which 
 he was noted for his marked piety and recollected 
 manner. How often, after giving this food to his spirit, 
 as if he were not yet satisfied, would he kneel before 
 some image of the Blessed Virgin, and pour out his 
 heart to his loving and tender Mother! What he 
 received in these and other similar visits no one knows ; 
 but what is certain is, that all the time he could spare 
 from his occupations he spent in the church at prayer. 
 And when, from the lateness of the hour or other cause, 
 he found the doors closed, there on the steps he re- 
 mained praying, with his heart fixed on Jesus, till he 
 satisfied his anxiety. He did everything with great 
 
VENERABLE NUNCIO SULPRJCIO. 
 
 297 
 
 devotion and much faith, and he was so firm in this 
 virtue, that often, when speaking of its mysteries, he 
 exclaimed that he would sooner die a thousand times 
 than call its least article into doubt. The fruit, and at 
 the same time the incentive of this holy faith, were 
 as well the burning thirst he had to hear sermons and 
 the explanation of the Christian doctrine, as the indus- 
 trious zeal he had that all should be instructed in the 
 dogmas of our holy religion. He incited all to attend 
 the ceremonies of the Church, to hear the exposition 
 of eternal truths, and he himself often explained, with 
 grace and simplicity, the catechism to other boys. In 
 his ordinary conversation, his greatest delight was to 
 speak, or hear spoken of, the things of heaven. On a 
 certain occasion another boy, having noticed the flame 
 which beamed in his countenance when treating of 
 spiritual things, asked him why he was so affected by 
 such subjects, to which Nuncio answered, with his usual 
 candour and simplicity : “ Because so extraordinary is 
 the consolation which fills my soul on hearing news from 
 heaven, ever pleasing to my heart, that I think I am 
 witnessing the delights enjoyed by the blessed in 
 heaven.” 
 
 And much he needed those consolations to compensate 
 for the hard treatment he received at home. His simple 
 manners, his angelical modesty, his prompt and cheerful 
 obedience, instead of conciliating the veneration of his 
 cousin and his assistants, only afforded them grounds 
 to injure and maltreat him the more. His cousin vented 
 his ill-humour on him with an extreme want of charity 
 and temperance. His anger could not b^ . appeased 
 either by the solicitude with which Nuncio anticipated 
 his wishes, or the docility with which he executed his 
 orders, or the Christian answers with which he tried to 
 disarm him, or the patience with which he bore his 
 complaints ; on the contrary, these virtues only exas- 
 
298 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 perated him so far as to make him cruelly beat the poor 
 boy. And the assistants, seeing him despised by his 
 own, maltreated him in word and act. Nuncio suffered 
 all this with unalterable patience, without complaint or 
 retort ; and if sometimes the weakness of nature made 
 his heart feel sad at being treated so badly, he banished 
 his melancholy by the recollection of the sufferings of 
 Jesus Christ, and full of holy consolation, laid all at His 
 feet as the most pleasing offering he could make to 
 Him. 
 
 But his pains did not end here. His unnatural cousin, 
 besides giving him work unsuited to his strength, often 
 sent him at night through the neighbourhood to col- 
 lect his debts, without consideration for the natural 
 fear a boy has in the dark when travelling by lonely 
 roads. And often in payment for his toil, if he did not 
 get as much as was expected, he received a scold, 
 or curses, or worse treatment. All this the Lord per- 
 mitted to purify the heroic virtues of His servant, and 
 Nuncio ceased not to offer Him the incense of his thanks 
 and praise. 
 
 III. 
 
 Without displaying discontent or resentment, Nuncio 
 spoke to those who treated him thus, of the eternal 
 goods of heaven, on which he had his mind fixed, and 
 sometimes moved a few of those hardened hearts. The 
 bitterness he suffered only made him raise his under- 
 standing and will to G-od, and he always began his 
 conversation about something relating to the Lord and 
 His glory, or at least ended it with some pious subject 
 useful to souls. Though regarded by some as a fool, he 
 exercised supreme prudence in introducing spiritual 
 subjects without giving offence to anyone. He could 
 have wished to communicate his own fire to all hearts, 
 
VENERABLE NUNCIO SULPRICIO 
 
 299 
 
 and never missed an opportunity of doing so. To have 
 matter with which to feed his own spirit, and supply 
 him with conversation for others, he assiduously read 
 pious hooks, particularly the “ Lives of the Saints.” The 
 history of St. Louis Gonzaga, to whom he had a special 
 devotion, he almost knew from memory, and in all his 
 hardships he tried to copy what he had read in it. Like 
 him he felt a holy hunger to eat the Eucharistic Bread ; 
 and he approached the holy table with such reverence 
 and fervour, that the light which beamed in his face 
 made him look like a seraph. After receiving his be- 
 loved Jesus, he remained a long time in rapture ; and 
 occasions there were on which the force of the love 
 with which he was closely united to the Divine Guest 
 caused him to sink to the ground as if wounded. One 
 of his confidants asked him why he remained so long in 
 the church, and he answered: “My dear friend, what 
 can I say ? To me there is nothing so sweet, nothing so 
 beautiful, nothing so grand as to pass the festival days 
 in such charming company.” Other times he would ex- 
 claim coming out of the temple : “I wish to be a saint, 
 a great saint ! A saint I have to be, cost what it may.” 
 
 Another of the virtues in which he tried to walk in 
 the footsteps of the angelical St. Louis, was great pen- 
 ance, accompanied by innocence, which he preserved 
 during his whole life. Never did his acquaintance 
 notice the slightest fault, nor was even an idle word 
 heard from his lips ; and, as if the painful toil to which 
 he was subjected, or the ulcers which had formed on his 
 feet, or the bad treatment he received, were nothing, 
 he sought other means of punishing his afijiQ^ed body. 
 Even when in hospital, in the rigorous nights of winter, 
 he was accustomed to get up to pray, though trembling 
 with cold.. When once surprised in this mortification 
 by one who had reprehended him for the severity with 
 which he treated himself, he began to sob, and said ? 
 
300 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 with edifying humility : “ Pardon my remaining thus 
 some time, for I feel moved to it with such force, that 
 it appears rash in me to resist.” What a lesson for those 
 who close their ears to the divine inspirations ! 
 
 Well did the prophet Jeremias say that it is not in 
 man’s hands to choose his way or make straight his 
 path ; for without divine grace we cannot take a single 
 step in the road of virtue, and with its aid we can run 
 like giants along it. But who, on this account, will 
 neglect to avail himself of the calls of God and the good 
 suggestions with which the Divine Mercy invites us ? 
 They tell us that St. Ignatius frequently said that there 
 is no Christian who could not become a great saint 
 by only corresponding to the ordinary aids of grace. 
 And shall we fail to avail ourselves of them ? As a 
 famishing man when presented with a piece of bread 
 keeps it not for another day, but instantly devours it ; 
 as a naked man who receives a gift of clothes casts 
 them not into the fire, but puts them on ; as a man 
 dangerously ill greedily drinks the medicine on which 
 his health depends ; so, and with greater diligence, should 
 we carry out a good resolution and despise not an in- 
 spiration, for we are spiritually poor and naked, and 
 infirm. We cannot obtain relief without instantly re- 
 ducing to practice the good thought which as an alms the 
 Lord sends us. For this reason Nuncio was always so 
 much on his guard to never lose an inspiration, and 
 to avoid the least venial vault, that he was ready to 
 undergo any toil and suffer any penance for nights, and 
 months, and years, if necessary for the purpose. And, 
 indeed, in this he is worthy of imitation ; for after mortal 
 sin there is no greater enemy of grace, nor evil more 
 formidable to man, than a venial sin. It is a thing so 
 horrible and displeasing to God, that if we were suffer- 
 ing in purgatory, and we could escape our pains by 
 committing one, we should rather endure to the end of 
 
VENERABLE NUNCIO SÜLPRICIO. 
 
 301 
 
 the world than be guilty of it. And justly, for all things 
 in the world God can choose, not only as a punishment 
 of sin, but as a trial to the just ; but the lightest venial 
 sin He cannot choose, but, on the contrary, He abomi- 
 nates it, chastises it with severe punishments, and will 
 never admit into His presence one stained with it, though 
 he had more merits than all the saints together, in- 
 cluding His purest Mother. 
 
 With holy care, then, Nuncio avoided such defects, 
 and when his conscience warned him of any by the 
 slightest remorse, he ran at once to bewail it at the 
 feet of his confessor. On one occasion, when rising 
 from the tribunal of penance, they observed him rapt 
 for some time, and with his face radiant as a seraph’s, 
 heard him exclaim with compunction: “My God! my 
 God!” In vain they tried to bring him to himself. He re- 
 mained so till the Lord restored his senses, and no one 
 knows what Jesus communicated to him in that vision. 
 It was thus He prepared him for other proofs certainly 
 no less severe than the past. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The sores on his feet grew worse, and his strength 
 failed so much that he was unable to attend to his 
 work. About this time his grandmother, who had 
 acted the part of a tender mother to Nuncio, died, and 
 his unfeeling cousin, now that he was useless to him, 
 turned him out to beg. The innocent young man bore it 
 all with wonderful resignation ; but as he was unable to 
 walk, even with the aid of crutches, Dominick, whether 
 from compassion, or a want of patience to suffer him, pro- 
 cured him entrance into the Hospital of Our Lady del 
 Popolo, through the influence of a charitable gentleman 
 named Felix Bochin ger. The Lord sent him to that 
 refuge of the afflicted to console the inmates with his 
 
302 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 maxims and animate tliem by bis example. He 
 was never beard to ntter a cry or lament, no matter bow 
 dreadfully bis pains tormented bim. Only when driven 
 to it would be break out in expressions like these : — 
 “ O my God ! wben will you take me to enjoy tby 
 countenance ? How lovely, bow beautiful beaven is !” 
 All bis sufferings appeared as nothing wben weighed 
 against the glory they merit for us. At other times, 
 wben bis pains were excessive, be would exclaim : 
 “ Jesus, my bfe, when shall I enter into glory? Wben 
 will you open to me the gates of bliss ?” 
 
 With like sentiments he endeavoured to inspire his 
 companions in misfortune. Wben allowed to rise, be 
 would take bis stick and go from bed to bed, pouring 
 into the hearts of all the balsam of peace and consola- 
 tion. “Courage, my friends,” be would say; “soon 
 shall our trials end. What happiness shall be ours when 
 we gather their fruit in that kingdom of eternal bliss ! ” 
 One day be was at the foot of another’s bed, talking as 
 usual of the glory of beaven : “I entertain the confi- 
 dence,” be said to bim, “ that I shall go to paradise ; 
 and I shall see you also there at my side.” With these 
 expressions be wonderfully encouraged the sick to bear 
 their ajlments with resignation ; and as be united to this 
 zeal an inimitable gentleness and sweetness, few there 
 were who could resist bis appeals. 
 
 Y 
 
 This same anxiety for the alleviation of others be bad 
 always manifested. If now be deprived himself of bis 
 rations to succour others in greater distress, formerly in 
 bis cousin’s bouse he robbed bis own mouth to gener- 
 ously give to the poor. The charity he bad for them 
 was very strong. If anyone asked an alms, and be was 
 unable to give it, he would say with ineffable sweetness : 
 
VENERABLE NUNCIO SULPRICIO. 
 
 303 
 
 “ Brother, as I cannot help yon I will pray to God to 
 move the hearts of those who can and kneeling down 
 would say the “ Our Father,” “ Hail Mary,” and 
 “ Glory he to the Father.” He at one time lived in the 
 house of a young man named Anthony. Seeing the 
 latter one day attacked by a burning fever, he was 
 greatly afflicted, and praying the Lord to transfer the 
 sickness to himself, he procured the health of the other 
 at the cost of his own. So far, and farther, did his 
 Christian charity go. But still greater was his zeal for 
 the help and advancement of souls. Persuaded that 
 riches are for worldlings, who have in them the cause of 
 excesses, and for those who have them not a source of 
 temptation, he tried to induce all to despise them, and 
 seek only eternal wealth. “ Who will be so foolish,’ 7 
 he frequently said, “as to place his affections on terres- 
 trial goods, which in the end must perish, to the loss of 
 those which shall last as long as God shall be God ?*’ 
 He never allowed anyone to talk of another’s faults in 
 his presence. Those who knew him took good care 
 not to do so when Nuncio was present, for he would 
 either close their mouth with a charitable reproof, or 
 would turn away that he might not hear the detraction. 
 And what shall we say of his angelic purity ? In this 
 he was another St. Louis de Gonzaga. In everything 
 relating to this delicate virtue he took the utmost pre- 
 cautions. Even at night, if a thought distracted him, 
 he would rise and commence to read pious books. 
 
 Is it any wonder, then, that at sight of his edifying 
 life, and his candid innocence, he was looked on as an 
 angel, and even was called so by many? But the 
 humble youth, who abhorred human praise, when he 
 heard himself so addressed, would say with deep afflic- 
 tion : “ Ah ! bless God’s mercy, who watches over me, 
 for I am a poor sinner.” With equal humility he 
 always concealed the privations to which he subjected 
 
304 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 himself in order to succour the poor, and also the celes- 
 tial favours he received, fearing lest vain-glory should 
 rob him of his reward. Another patient in the hospital 
 having noticed that Nuncio always covered his face 
 with the sheet asked him why he did so, and the ser- 
 vant of God, as if caught in his innocent artifice, 
 answered : “ Let me alone, for the happiness I feel it is 
 impossible to explain.” Thus did the good Jesus 
 reward his invincible patience, and blunt the sharp 
 pains which by night and by day gave him no rest. 
 And he on his part did not neglect the means he could 
 dispose of to comfort his soul. He experienced such 
 devotion in attending at the holy sacrifice of the Mass, 
 that he did not omit it one single day when his ailments 
 permitted. In that real and lively representation of the 
 sacrifice of the Cross he learned to suffer in silence, and 
 the fervour and modesty with which he attended it were 
 so great that his face glowed like a live coal, to the no 
 small edification of the bystanders. He also, despite 
 his ailments, would drag himself on foot to the altar of 
 the Blessed Virgin, to pay respect to the holy angels, to 
 offer suffrages for the faithful departed, and go over 
 the acts of the saints, especially of his protector and 
 model, St. Louis. And so, full of divine love, he 
 wished not and knew not how to speak of anything but 
 God. Sometimes, when asked about the state of his 
 health, he would say : “I could not be better, for I am 
 as God wishes : in His infinite mercy I put my trust.” 
 When he heard anyone complain he would lovingly say : 
 “ If you do not hope in God how can you gather the 
 fruit of His grace ? Let us confide in Him ; I have the 
 firm hope that He will pardon me.” 
 
VENERABLE NUNCIO SULPRICIO. 
 
 305 
 
 VI. 
 
 But what had God to pardon in that blessed soul, 
 who looked on it as a happiness to suffer for J esus, and 
 was horrified at the very shadow of sin P Such was 
 the fame of his innocence, such the aroma of his heroic 
 virtues, that persons of learning and virtue came from 
 distant places to be edified by his example and maxims. 
 And in all he tried to excite his own love for Jesus 
 Christ, and all were more than satisfied that fame had 
 not deceived them. But his illness was daily growing, 
 and at last he was unable to even move himself in bed, 
 and appeared more like a skeleton than a living man. 
 He was scarcely able to speak when they prepared him 
 to receive the last sacraments. As soon as it was re- 
 ported that the Viaticum was going to be administered to 
 him, crowds came, and amongst them many soldiers, to 
 visit him for the last time. The room was full of 
 people, and as soon as the priest entered with the bread 
 of the strong, the sick man recovered his lost strength, 
 sat up in the bed, and without waiting to be encouraged 
 to make acts of faith, hope, and charity, as is usual, 
 burst out into such fervent affections for his dear Jesus 
 that the bystanders, including the soldiers, burst into 
 tears at the moving spectacle. With these good disposi- 
 tions, after receiving all the aids of the Church for his 
 important journey, he closed his eyes on this world to 
 open those of the spirit in the land of the just, on the 
 5th of May, 1836. 
 
 If the concourse which gathered to witness the ad- 
 ministration of the Holy Viaticum was great, greater far 
 was that which accompanied his mortal remains to the 
 grave. They had to keep him four days unburied to 
 satisfy the devotion of the faithful. They wondered to 
 see that body, so pale and thin before, completely trans- 
 formed in appearance. His eyes shone as if they were 
 
 20 
 
306 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 animated, his cheeks appeared like two roses, and a vein 
 having been touched, it gave ont fresh blood as if he 
 •were alive. The fame of sanctity which he had so justly 
 merited in life, was extended to other countries after 
 his death by the splendour of the miracles which God 
 wrought through his intercession, and which moved the 
 Church to examine into his heroic virtues, in order to 
 raise him some day to the honour of our altars. 
 
 Such are the facts of the life of this holy youth, 
 - which we have copied from the Acts of the Holy See. 
 
 God grant that the record of them in these pages may 
 move many to imitate him ! 
 
 ST. MARTIN, TAILOR. 
 
 I. 
 
 With the ringing of bells and illuminations the Guild 
 of Tailors of Genoa annually celebrated the memory of 
 their patron, Blessed Martin, the model of all men of 
 their trade. The servant of God was born in the 
 Marches of Ancona, of parents no less exalted in station 
 than fervent in piety, who endeavoured to train him up 
 in the holy fear of God, the source of true and solid i 
 nobility. Martin was docile and affectionate, and his 
 heart, like soft wax, received the impression of the 
 maxims he heard so frequently from his parents’ lips. 
 His parents, anxious to procure him an honourable 
 means of living, besides preparing him to join the army, 
 apprenticed him to a tailor, in case he should tire of the 
 former. The Christian youth yielded to his parents’ 
 wishes, and at the proper age put on his military uni- 
 form. In the army he was remarkable for his frankness, 
 
ST. MARTIN. 
 
 307 
 
 affability, and good manners, as well as for his generous 
 and noble disposition, and he gained the hearts of 
 officers and men. He had one companion, however, 
 whom he treated with great intimacy, and loved as a 
 brother. This companion introduced him to Angelini, 
 Prefect of the Marches, and the three became the most 
 intimate friends in the whole army. The sower of 
 cockle could not bear this friendship among honourable 
 and Christian people, and sought an opportunity of 
 creating disunion among them. It is not to be presumed 
 that they were indifferent to the prejudices of their age 
 with regard to false notions of honour. 
 
 Then, as now, if one would not bear injuries with 
 Christian patience, he was regarded as a brave fellow, 
 whilst if he did he was looked on as a coward. One 
 day when they were out walking, our two good com- 
 rades began to talk of indifferent things ; from talk 
 they went to argument ; from argument to blows ; from 
 blows to a duel, in which Martin ran his sword through 
 his companion’s body and killed him on the spot. To 
 such extremes do our unrestrained passions carry us ! 
 The place where it occurred was lonely, and there were 
 no witnesses, so that it was easy for the assassin to hide 
 the body and keep the crime secret for a time at least. 
 
 When he turned to go home, and the heat of the 
 dispute was disappearing, then the remorse of con- 
 science commenced. The recollection of the assassina- 
 tion followed him like a ghost. His mind was tortured 
 when he reflected that the prsetor would make inquiries, 
 and he should have to answer without knowing what, 
 and that above all he had offended the Lord, whom his 
 parents taught him to fear. As he was passing a 
 ' church he entered, and throwing himself in tears at the 
 \ feet of an image of the Blessed Virgin, he besought her 
 1 to use her power with God on his behalf, and obtain for 
 him the pardon of his crime. The Virgin opened to 
 
308 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 him the only door to the pardon he desired, by moving 
 him to confess his sin with humble and penitent heart 
 to the minister of Jesus Christ. Martin immediately 
 called a priest, who, having heard him with kindness 
 and sympathy, told him to put his trust in God, and 
 pronounced over him the sentence of pardon. With the 
 sentence of life peace and calm returned to that agitated 
 heart, and the assassin arose full of consolation, hut 
 sorrowful for his crime. 
 
 II. 
 
 But how could he show himself at the praetor’s house, 
 and what answer make to his inquiries P He resolved, 
 however, to continue Angelinas friendship, and when 
 the latter, after a few days, asked Martin what could he 
 the cause of their friend’s absence he said : “I also 
 wonder he has neglected our meetings so long, as he 
 used to he most punctual. Something must have hap- 
 pened him.” Angelini never suspected the assassin’s 
 sincerity. He ordered a search to he made, and offered 
 a large reward to whoever would bring him news of his 
 friend’s whereabouts, alive or dead. The body was at 
 last found, and as suspicion began to light on Martin 
 he had to fly to save his life. 
 
 On the western shore of the Bay of Genoa, at a place 
 called Peghi, there was a cave in a solitary rock, which 
 seemed marked out as a place for meditation and prayer. 
 There the waves broke sometimes in gentle ripples, 
 sometimes in storm like thunder, reminding one now of 
 the peace of a soul in grace, now of the torments of a 
 soul in sin, whilst its sparkles under the suns rays 
 suggested the beauty of God, and its extent His immen- 
 sity. Here our penitent fixed his dwelling : here in 
 
ST. MARTIN. 
 
 309 
 
 this solitary cave did Martin wish to expiate his sins, 
 anxious to recover the peace he formerly enjoyed by the 
 side of his parents, in the strict fulfilment of the 
 divine precepts. Now the trade he learned when 
 young was of use to him. He sought work in the 
 town to be free from idleness, to meet his wants, 
 and to relieve the poor. Before dawn Martin was 
 accustomed to rise and consecrate his first aspira- 
 tions to God, offering him all his works in satisfaction 
 for his sins, and spending a long time in meditation. 
 During the day he dedicated himself to work, not 
 without often raising his heart to God and to His be- 
 loved Mother, the Blessed Virgin, from whom he had 
 received so many graces. He was extremely temperate, 
 usually eating nothing but a little fish and wild herbs, 
 and fasting often, particularly on Wednesdays and 
 Fridays. Thus did he pass a saintly life, distributed 
 between prayer, penance, and work. He had to daily 
 go a distance for water, to his great annoyance, on 
 account of the distractions it caused him. He lovingly 
 complained of this one day to God, and asked Him 
 to remedy it. And after long supplications a well 
 of crystalline water sprung up in the hard rock on the 
 sea- shore. With what thanks and praises did he repay 
 the Almighty for this favour can only be imagined by a 
 heart as enamoured of God as his own. Sometimes, 
 particularly on the eves of the festivals, he went to the 
 city, as well to provide work and necessaries as to go to 
 confession to the Abbot of St. Benignus’, who kept him 
 in the convent, that he might the better sanctify the 
 Sundays and holidays. 
 
 III. 
 
 Martin was tailor-in-chief to the poor. He not only 
 did their work gratis, but kept them in his hut and 
 
310 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 supplied all their wants. Whilst they were resting he 
 mended their clothes with as much care and solicitude 
 as if he were doing it for Jesus Christ. When the 
 devout tailor’s generosity was known, his cave became 
 the asylum of the needy. But the poor tailor was not 
 content with this, and, after distributing among them 
 all he had, he zealously taught them the Christian 
 doctrine, and exhorted them to bear with resignation 
 and joy the privations of this valley of tears, and re- 
 minded them that “ of the poor was the kingdom of 
 heaven.” He collected the children who in summer went 
 to bathe near his dwelling, and gave them a high notion 
 of the respect they owed to God and their elders. He 
 explained to them the mysteries of faith, and told them 
 of the sufferings of hell, and the joys of heaven. To en- 
 courage them to come to him, he had always some little 
 dainty for them. With what pleasure they told their 
 parents of the stories he related to them, the maxims he 
 had taught them ! But the good tailor was still more 
 satisfied with this great work of mercy. His charity 
 extended to all, and he prayed to the Lord that all might 
 be saved. Full of ineffable joy, grateful for the pardon 
 of his sins and the new graces he daily received, he in- 
 vited the fishes and the birds to bless the Lord ; and the 
 birds, which served him as a monitor to sing the praises 
 of God, came to eat from his hands the crumbs he offered 
 them. In prayer, penance, labour, and the frequenting 
 of the Sacraments — in fine, in the service of God — he 
 found that peace of soul which the world cannot give. 
 In the fulfilment of the divine law he struck the vein of 
 true felicity, the reflection of that which the just enjoy in 
 heaven. 
 
 The Lord was so pleased with the saint’s fervour 
 that, as it were in recompense for the garments he 
 had mended for Him, the food he had given Him 
 the hospitality with which he had treated Him, the 
 
ST. MARTÍN. 
 
 31 L 
 
 balsam be Lad poured on the sores of His afflicted 
 body, He not seldom wrought wonders through his 
 means. When at mid-day on Sundays he was leaving 
 the convent of St. Benignus for his solitude, he 
 used to take with him a small vessel of oil, which 
 the good religious gave him as an alms. It happened 
 once that when the cellarman went to fill the vessel 
 by the Abbot Oggerio’s order, he found the barrel 
 empty, and was sending away the poor tailor without 
 his usual supply. The latter asked him to look again, 
 for he was in need of it. But the lay-broth r protested 
 that it was useless, as he had sounded to theery hot tom 
 without finding a drop. But Martin insisted, and the 
 cellarman, by the abbot’s order, returned to the barrel, 
 and, to his intense surprise, found it quite full. He ran 
 immediately to announce the miracle attributed by 
 Martin to Divine Providence, who thus rewards the alms- 
 giver. If before he was held in high respect by the 
 good religious, who admired the penitent tailor’s fervour 
 and mortification, after this marvel he was venerated by 
 all as a great servant of the Most High. 
 
 IV. 
 
 At last the good tailor had fully satisfied for his sins, 
 and heaped up the measure of his deserts. He knew 
 that the day of his departure was near, and he made 
 constant preparation for it. When he felt the first 
 attack of the fever which was to carry him to the grave, 
 anxious to have the best assistance he could in that 
 terrible hour of struggle, he went to St. Benignus, 
 whose religious received him with charitable kindness. 
 Stretched on the bed of pain, he did nothing but bless 
 the God of mercies for giving him such consolation ; 
 and, having received the Holy Sacraments, he delivered 
 his soul to his Creator in the year 1347, to the great 
 edification of the monks who surrounded his bed. 
 
312 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 At the end of his mortal career, an army of angels, in 
 the form of beantifnl white butterflies, appeared, and 
 fluttering through the room accompanied to heaven that 
 soul which, by the force of penance, had undergone a 
 transformation more wonderful than that which takes 
 place in the filthy caterpillar when it is converted into 
 a golden butterfly. The funeral rites were performed 
 with great solemnity, attended by a great crowd of reli- 
 gious and lay people, who hastened to venerate the 
 mortal remains of the saint, as they called him. A few 
 days after he was buried a mysterious light began to 
 appear over his grave, exciting the admiration of the 
 faithful. The body was exhumed and found incorrupt, 
 and emitting an exquisite and agreeable aroma It was 
 placed in a more honourable tomb, the cost of which was 
 defrayed by the guild of tailors, who chose him as their 
 advocate. Thenceforth the Lord made his relics cele- 
 brated by numerous miracles wrought by his intercession. 
 I will mention only one. 
 
 About the year 1485, Father Gabriel de Gabarin was 
 procurator of the monastery. He extremely loved a 
 convert called Bartholomew, who was very devout to 
 St. Martin. Bartholomew got sick, and, anxious to 
 escape from the dangers of this exile, ardently suppli- 
 cated his advocate to obtain from God, as soon as 
 possible, his freedom from the prison of this body. 
 Blessed Martin appeared to him, and told him that on 
 Saturday he should go to enjoy the Supreme Good in 
 paradise. The day named was approaching, to the great 
 content of the sick man ; but, at the break of day on 
 Saturday, Blessed Martin again came to say that Father 
 Gabriel had obtained from the Lord a prorogation of the 
 promise, and that his exile would be prolonged yet 
 awhile ; and after encouraging him to act like a good 
 Christian, and in the meantime heap up treasures of 
 glory, he disappeared. His sudden convalescence proved 
 
ST. MARTIN. 
 
 313 
 
 the reality of the case. Later on, the convert got sick 
 again, and had another visit from his patron, who brought 
 him the news that on the following Saturday his soul 
 would go to glory. On the day named all the religious 
 gathered around the sick-bed, expecting the fulfilment 
 of the prophecy. And so it occurred. Comforted by 
 the last Sacraments of the Church, to the great con- 
 solation and edification of the bystanders, he quietly 
 slept the sleep of the just, never again to awaken till 
 the day of the last account. 
 
lie airing from % pisioru of % Polo Jfatniljr. 
 
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 
 
 In one of his evangelical excursions Jesus found Him- 
 self on, the slope of a mount, besieged by the immense 
 crowd which followed Him. To more conveniently 
 divide among them the Bread of Life, He went up to 
 the top, and immediately the multitude followed Him, 
 covering the hill as the waters at full tide do the sandy 
 shore. Hear Him on one side were His disciples : the 
 rest of the ground was occupied by a numerous con- 
 course, like a harvest field of human beings, who swayed 
 like the golden heads of grain tossed by the wind. 
 When Jesus took up a position to speak, the whole 
 multitude became at once calm and profoundly silent, 
 and immediately the Master’s voice was heard, uttering 
 words of life, in which, as in compendium, is contained 
 the substance of His celestial doctrine. “Blessed,” said 
 He, “ are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom 
 of heaven. Blessed are the meek, for they shall possess 
 the land. Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall 
 be comforted. Blessed are they that hunger and thirst 
 after justice, for they shall have their fill. Blessed 
 are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed 
 are the clean of heart, for they shall see God. 
 Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called 
 
HISTORY OF THE HOLY FAMILY. 315 
 
 the children of God. Blessed are they that suffer 
 persecution for justice’ sake, for theirs is the king- 
 dom of heaven. Blessed are ye when they shall revile 
 you and persecute you, and speak all that is evil 
 against you, for my sake ; be glad and rejoice, for your 
 reward is very great in heaven.” Jesus does not wish 
 us to regard as blessed those whom the world praises 
 and makes much of — the rich, the vain, those who 
 laugh, those who rejoice, the fortunate, the lascivious, 
 the passionate, the oppressors of the innocent, but only 
 those who have a pure heart in the midst of riches, 
 and, complying with their duty, and suffering tribula- 
 tion with patience, know how to make a conquest, not 
 of a kingdom which passes away, but of the immortal 
 crown of glory. 
 
 When He laid down these consoling foundations, He 
 directed Himself particularly to those who should have 
 to inculcate them, and said: “You are the salt of the 
 earth. But if the salt lose its savour, wherewith shall 
 it be salted ? It is good for nothing any more but to 
 be cast out, and to be trodden on by men. You are the 
 light of the world. A city seated on a mountain cannot 
 be hid. Neither do men light a candle and put it under 
 a bushel, but upon a candlestick, that it may shine to all 
 that are in the house. So let your light shine before 
 men, that they may see your good works, and glorify 
 your Father who is in heaven.” 
 
 Then He addressed Himself again to all in these 
 words : “ Do not think that I am come to destroy the 
 law or the prophets. I am not come to destroy but to 
 fulfil. For amen I say unto you, till heaven and earth 
 
 I pass, one jot or one tittle shall not pass of the law, till 
 all be fulfilled. He, therefore, who shall break one of 
 these least commandments, and shall so teach men, 
 shall be called the least in the kingdom of heaven. 
 But he that shall do and teach, he shall be called 
 
316 
 
 LIGHT EEOM THE LOWLY. 
 
 great in the kingdom of heaven.” And he deals 
 with those who regard as light what the Church 
 declares to be serious, and who only aim at the appear- 
 ance of virtue, and says : “ For I tell you, unless your 
 justice abound more than that of the Scribes and 
 Pharisees, you shall not enter into the kingdom of 
 heaven. You have heard that it was said to them of 
 old: Thou shalt not kill. And whosoever shall kill 
 shall be in danger of the judgment. But I say to you 
 that whosoever is angry with his brother, shall be in 
 danger of the judgment. And whosoever shall say to 
 his brother, Baca, shall be in danger of the Council. 
 And whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger 
 of hell fire.” The judgment and council or Sanhedrim 
 were two Jewish tribunals destined to chastise crimes 
 more or less serious, and the Gehenna or the valley of 
 Hernon, was the place where children offered to Moloch 
 were cast into the flames, and hence it was used as 
 a figure of the fire of hell. Consequently, with these 
 expressions Jesus reprobated the different degrees of 
 anger, condemning not only the homicides and male- 
 factors, but also those who harbour in their breast a 
 spirit of vengeance, which sometimes urges them to 
 break out into gross and injurious expressions. Such 
 was the anxiety He showed to root out all ill-will, even 
 when not manifested exteriorly, that He commanded us 
 all, that if on going to offer a gift at the altar we should 
 remember that our brother or neighbour had anything 
 against us, we should leave our offering there and go 
 and be reconciled to our brother. He also prohibited 
 impure desires, declared the bond of matrimony indis- 
 soluble, and condemned perjury and vain swearing. 
 “Let your speech,” He says, “ be yea, yea; no, no; and 
 that which is over and above these is evil.” 
 
 “ You have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt 
 love thy neighbour, and hate thy enemy. But I say to 
 
HISTORY OF THE HOLY FAMILY. 
 
 317 
 
 yon, Love yonr enemies, do good to them that hate yon ; 
 and pray for them that persecnte and calumniate yon ; 
 that you may be the children of yonr Father who is in 
 heaven, who maketh his sun to rise on the good and 
 bad, and raineth upon the just and unjust. For if you 
 love them that love you, what reward shall you have P 
 do not even the publicans this ? And if you salute your 
 brethren only, what do you more ? do not also the 
 heathens this ? Be you therefore perfect, as also your 
 heavenly Father is perfect.” 
 
 To these maxims and precepts our Divine Master 
 added others of no less importance. He anathematised 
 hypocrisy and vain-glory. “ When thou dost an alms- 
 deed,” He says, “sound not a trumpet before thee, a 
 the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets 
 that they may be honoured by men . . . But when thou 
 dost alms let not thy left hand know what thy right 
 hand doth, that thy alms may be in secret, and thy 
 Father who seeth in secret will repay thee . . . When 
 thou art praying speak not much, as the heathens . . . 
 for your Father knoweth what is needful for you, before 
 you ask it.” Then He taught them the incomparable 
 prayer of the Our Father, saying: — “ Thus, therefore 
 shall you pray : 
 
 “ Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy 
 name ; thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as 
 it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and 
 forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that tres- 
 pass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but 
 deliver us from evil. Amen.” 
 
 Such was the generosity with which He desired us 
 to pardon those who offended us, that He makes it an 
 indispensable condition for the forgiveness of our own 
 faults. Then He exhorts us not to allow onr heart to 
 be attached to the vile treasures of this life, which no 
 matter how numerous and precious they may be, we 
 
318 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 shall have to pay as tribute to death. “ Lay up to your- 
 selves treasures in heaven : where neither rust nor moth 
 doth consume, and where thieves do not break through 
 and steal.” He told them besides, that God alone should 
 be the ruler of our souls, and the only object of our 
 aspirations, for it is totally impossible to serve two 
 masters so opposed as God and the world, God and 
 riches. To love the one is to abhor the other, to please 
 the latter is to despise the former ; and the world is 
 served when the love of any earthly good whatever is 
 not ordained to God. 
 
 Looking, then, to the peace and tranquillity of his 
 followers, He distinctly forbade them, not the prudence 
 and toil required to procure the necessaries of life, but 
 that extreme solicitude and excessive unrest which those 
 endure who hope to obtain everything by their own 
 exertions v and industry, without counting at all on 
 Divine Providence. Will He who gave us our body and 
 our life, deny us our food and clothing ? ‘ ‘ Seek ye, 
 
 therefore, first the kingdom of God and his justice, and 
 all these things shall be added unto you.” 
 
 “ Behold the birds of the air, for they neither sow, 
 nor do they reap, nor gather into barns : and your 
 heavenly Father feedeth them. Are not you of much 
 more value than they ? And which of you by taking 
 thought, can add to his stature one cubit ? And for 
 raiment why are you solicitous ? Consider the lilies of 
 the field how they grow : they labour not, neither do 
 they spin, but I say to you, that not even Solomon in 
 all his glory was arrayed as one of these. And if the 
 grass of the field, which is to-day, and to-morrow is 
 cast into the oven, God doth so clothe : how much more 
 you, O ye of little faith ? ** Such was the confidence 
 He wished us to place in his unlimited goodness, 
 whenever, with his glory in view, we neglected not to 
 contribute our co-operation and correspondence. 
 
HISTORY OF THE HOLY FAMILY. 
 
 319 
 
 Then He went on to condemn rash judgments, 
 saying: — “Judge not, that yon may not be judged, 
 for . . . with what measure you mete, it shall be 
 measured to you again. And why seest thou the mote 
 that is in thy brother’s eye ; and seest not the beam that 
 is in thine own eye ? . . . Give not that which is holy 
 to dogs : neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest 
 perhaps they trample them under their feet.” That is, 
 we are not to expose our august dogmas and sacraments 
 to be profaned by the blasphemies and sacrileges of 
 infidels. “ Ask and it shall be given you : seek and 
 you shall find : knock and it shall be opened to you. 
 For every one that asketh, receiveth; and he that 
 seeketh, findeth; and to him that knocketh, it shall 
 be opened . . . All things, therefore, whatsoever you 
 would that men should do to you, do you also to them. 
 Enter ye in at the narrow gate : for wide is the gate, 
 and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction, and 
 many there are who go in thereat. How narrow is the 
 gate, and straight is the way that leadeth to life : and few 
 there are who find it ! Beware of false prophets, who 
 come to you in the clothing of sheep, but inwardly they 
 are ravening wolves. By their fruits you shall know 
 them. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of 
 thistles P . . . Every tree that bringeth not forth good 
 fruit, shall be cut down, and shall be cast into the fire. 
 
 “Hot every one that sai th to me, Lord, Lord, shall 
 enter into the kingdom of heaven : but he that doeth the 
 will of my Father who is in heaven, he shall enter into 
 the kingdom of heaven. Many wi^l say to me in that 
 day : Lord, Lord, have not we prophesied in thy name, 
 and cast out devils in thy name, and done many mira- 
 cles in thy name ? And then will I profess unto them, 
 I never knew you : depart from me ye that work 
 •iniquity. Every one, therefore, that heareth these my 
 words, and doeth them, shall be likened to a wise man that 
 
320 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 built bis house upon a rock. And the rain fell, and the 
 floods came, and the winds blew, and they beat upon that 
 house, and it fell not, for it was founded upon a rock. 
 And every one that heareth these my words and doeth 
 them not shall be like a foolish man that built 
 house upon the sand. And the rain fell, and the fl Q ls 
 came, and the winds blew, and they beat upon oc *s 
 house, and it fell, and great was the fall thereof.’ ^at 
 With this beautiful simile Jesus brought His dis- 
 course to an end, leaving all astonished at His wisdom 
 and majesty of expression. Happy we if we take these 
 salutary maxims as the inflexible rule of our life. 
 
Sr. John of God. 
 
LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY 
 
 Series VI. 
 
 ST. JOHN OF GOD, BOOKSELLER. 
 
 I. 
 
 In the adventurous life of this glorious saint, shepherd, 
 soldier, labourer, bookseller, and founder of an Order, as 
 he was, booksellers will find many things worthy of imi- 
 tation. John was born on the 8th of March, 1495, in Mon- 
 temayor in Portugal, in the archdiocese of Evora. His 
 father, Andrew Ciudad, and his mother, whose name is 
 unknown, though poor, reared him up in all the exercises 
 of piety during the few years he was with them before 
 they lost him. This event occurred thus : A person re- 
 presenting himself as an ecclesiastic happened to get lodg- 
 ing in his father’s house, and during conversation spoke 
 so highly of the country about Madrid, that, when leaving, 
 John made up his mind to follow him by stealth to the 
 capital of Spain. He left home, indeed, but his expec- 
 tation was not fulfilled, for the traveller abandoned him 
 in the village of Oropesa, where some compassionate 
 people took pity on the boy and got him into the service 
 of Francis, the Count de Oropesa’s chief shepherd. 
 
 In the meantime his mother, tired of seeking him to 
 no purpose, fell sick and died of grief in twenty days 
 after she had lost him. His father, no less afflicted on 
 his account, after the death of his wife, retired to Lisbon, 
 where he ended his days in the habit of St. Francis. 
 
324 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 John had, from his tenderest age, a filial devotion to 
 the Queen of Angels, to whom, as to a loving mother, 
 he had recourse in all his necessities and troubles. He 
 daily recited the holy Rosary and other devotions in her 
 honour, and paid her great respect as his special pro- 
 tector. His master, observing that since John entered 
 his service benedictions rained on his house, his fortune 
 improved, his stock increased, and he was sailing before 
 the wind, conceived a great affection for him, and when 
 he arrived at the proper age offered him his daughter in 
 marriage, in order to secure his remaining as one of the 
 family. But John, who desired to consecrate his whole 
 heart to the immaculate Virgin, refused the flattering 
 offer. He was then about twenty-two years of age. 
 
 They were just then enlisting men in Oropesa to go to 
 the relief of Fuenterrabia, besieged by the French, and 
 John, carried away by the ardour of youth, resolved to 
 exchange his shepherd’s crook for a sword, and join the 
 army of Charles V. There, amid the tumult of arms, 
 and from the bad example of his comrades, though he 
 did not give loose reign to his passions, he gradually 
 grew tepid and gave up his principal practices of piety. 
 But Divine Providence made him again enter on the 
 path of perfection. One day, when forming part of a 
 small detachment sent against the enemy, who had ap- 
 proached the camp, their supplies ran short, and Ciudad, 
 in the heat of his young blood, being anxious to distin- 
 guish himself by some adventure, volunteered to go 
 for food to some houses not very distant. For this pur- 
 pose he mounted a mare which they had just taken from 
 the French. As soon as the animal, after going some 
 miles, knew her ground, she took the bits in her teeth 
 and galloped towards the French camp. The young 
 soldier, fearing to be made prisoner, threw himself off, 
 and falling among rocks, lay for some time unconscious. 
 After recovering his senses he knelt down, and had re- 
 course to her who was always his refuge, and who is never 
 appealed to in vain, beseeching her to shield him and 
 
ST. JOHN OF GOD. 
 
 325 
 
 prevent him from falling* prisoner. He had scarcely 
 ended his prayer when a beautiful and celestial shep- 
 herdess presented herself, and giving him a drink of 
 water infused into him strength to return to his own 
 camp. John gratefully asked her who she was, and the 
 shepherdess answered : “I am she whom yon addressed 
 and then she added : “ Believe me that in the midst of 
 so many dangers yon are ill-protected withont the shield 
 of prayer : do not, then, give np yonr devotions.’ ’ John 
 was about returning her thanks when she disappeared 
 from his sight. He was disturbed in mind by this sin- 
 gular favour, and, at the same time, continued to dread 
 falling into the enemy’s hands ; but animated by a mys- 
 terious voice telling him to go without fear, he returned 
 to his camp, where he soon recovered. However, he 
 escaped from one difficulty only to fall into another. 
 
 The character he bore as a faithful and good Christian 
 induced his captain to confide to him the custody of the 
 booty taken from the enemy. His own honesty imposed 
 on him ; for in a few days he was secretly robbed by his 
 companions, and condemned to be hanged as a thief. 
 His protests and prayers were of no avail, till he had 
 recourse to his powerful protector. To the beat of 
 muffled drum, surrounded by some soldiers and at- 
 tended by a priest, who suggested to him affectionate 
 sentiments of repentance, he marched, with his eyes fixed 
 on a crucifix, he carried in his hands to the place of exe- 
 cution. He was despairing of life when a gentleman, 
 who had lost his way, happened to pass, and succeeded in 
 inducing the captain to commute the sentence of death 
 to some other punishment. He was ignominiously ex- 
 pelled from the camp, and returned to Oropesa, where 
 he was kindly received by his master. Far now from the 
 din of arms, and in places which constantly reminded 
 him of his past fervour, with death ever before his eyes, 
 on whose brink he had found himself, he began again to 
 lead an edifying life. His master, the more he had 
 dealings with him, liked him the more; so that, en- 
 
326 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 chanted by his good disposition, his docility, his religi- 
 ous and irreprehensible conduct, he again proposed to 
 him marriage with his daughter ; but John a second time 
 refused, resolved on preserving his virginity in honour 
 of the Blessed Virgin. Four years he spent here, and 
 would have remained longer only the Count Fernando 
 Alvarez de Toledo came to collect men from all parts to 
 go to assist Charles V. against the Turks, who were 
 threatening Vienna. John joined him and went to 
 Germany in the count’s service. Warned by his former 
 campaign, he acted with more circumspection, and, ig- 
 noring human respect, conducted himself like a man 
 who had become a soldier with the high purpose of 
 shedding his blood in defence of the Catholic religion. 
 
 When the expedition was over, and the troops dis- 
 banded, Ciudad returned to Spain with the count, and 
 landing in Corunna, went to visit the tomb of St. James. 
 After his visit to the patron of Spain he went to Monte- 
 mayor, his native place, and there he met an uncle of his, 
 who told him his parents had both died soon after los- 
 ing him. 
 
 II. 
 
 Finding nothing then in his own country to detain 
 him, he resolved to go to serve God in some other place. 
 Passing by Ayamonte he got lodging in the hospital, 
 where his natural compassion was aroused at sight of 
 the poor patients, and his heart was breaking because 
 he could not relieve them. And when he saw great lords 
 dressed in luxury, with a pompous train of horses, and 
 compared them with the ragged poor, he used to ex- 
 claim : “ How much better their wealth would be em- 
 ployed in relieving the distressed than on those pampered 
 animals. Ah ! if God would only give me the opportunity 
 and the means to serve them as I could desire !” Arriv- 
 ing in Andalusia, he again became a shepherd in the 
 service of Mrs. Levnor de Zuniga. He spent days and 
 
ST. JOHN OF GOD. 
 
 327 
 
 nights in the exercises of piety and penance, constantly 
 imploring the Divine Pastor to have mercy on him. 
 But as this was not the station in which God wished to 
 be served by him, he found no rest. At last he came to 
 the conclusion that he could undertake nothing better to 
 appease the divine justice than to employ himself in the 
 relief of the distressed. To carry out this design he de- 
 termined on going to Africa, where he could fight against 
 the Moors in defence of our holy faith, and, at the same 
 time, console Christian slaves with whatever he might 
 have at hand, and perhaps receive the crown of martyr- 
 dom, which he anxiously desired. 
 
 In Gibraltar, whither he went to take shipping, he met 
 a Portuguese gentleman, whom John III. had condemned 
 to exile after confiscating his property. This gentleman, 
 with his wife and four daughters, was about being con- 
 ducted to Ceuta by the officers of the prince, and he took 
 John with him, as he had offered to serve him gratui- 
 tously. In this service he employed special diligence, 
 expecting his reward in heaven. Soon, through grief 
 and the change of air, the mother and daughters fell ill, 
 and all were reduced to the greatest povertv and misery. 
 In their distress the gentleman asked John to go as a 
 labourer on the public works, and the servant of God im- 
 mediately consented, and for several months supported 
 the family on his wages. But when the works were 
 suspended, that source of consolation was dried up. The 
 heart of the poor Portuguese was almost broken at sight 
 of his delicate family in a strange country, without food 
 or the means of procuring it, his very furniture having 
 been sold to supply his wants. John consoled him like 
 a loving son, and often repeated : “ What makes you 
 despair, sir, of the divine mercy ? Do you think that if 
 we serve Him as we should, God, who supports the 
 birds of the air, will abandon us ? Put your trust in 
 God : there is a remedy for everything but eternal dam- 
 nation.” Then he went out and sold his cloak and ran 
 to relieve the gentleman’s distress. 
 
328 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 A few days after the public works began again, and 
 again John returned to the exercise of mercy. The in- 
 effable joy which, in spite of his great privations, he felt 
 in these acts of charity was somewhat disturbed by the 
 apostasy of an intimate friend of his. The servant of 
 God attributed this horrible sin to his own fault, and 
 was lo saddened by it that he felt no consolation of any 
 sort in his pious exercises. The devil tempted him to 
 follow his companion’s steps, though only in appear- 
 ance, for the purpose of regaining him. John knew his 
 artifices, and went and opened his breast to his con- 
 fessor, who was a learned and holy Franciscan. Con- 
 viuced of the great danger which John ran, though 
 aware of the loss he would be to the unhappy Portu- 
 guese family, he advised him to return to Spain at once, 
 trusting that God would find another way to relieve the 
 gentleman. 
 
 III. 
 
 Obedient to the voice of his director, Ciudad embarked 
 for home. A great storm overtook them half-way to 
 Gibraltar, and all believed they were going to perish. 
 John, thinking the Lord had raised the tempest on his 
 account, called out to the crew 7 to throw him into the sea, 
 like another Jonas. He was so earnest in the matter 
 that the sailors, regarding him as some great sinner, 
 took him up and were going to cast him out w r hen he 
 asked them for time to say an “ Our Father.” The 
 moment he began to pray the w r aves were calmed. This 
 prodigy changed the erroneous judgment of the sailprs, 
 wdio, during the rest of the voyage, looked on him as a 
 great servant of God. When he arrived in Gibraltar 
 the first thing he did was to go to the church to return 
 thanks to the Omnipotent for saving him from such 
 great dangers, promising to serve Him in all truth 
 henceforth. To prepare himself for this new and more 
 fervent life he made a general confession with great 
 sorrow and copious tears. Here he again went to work, 
 
ST. JOHN OF GOD. 
 
 329 
 
 and from his earnings, the greater part of which he 
 saved, he gave a portion to the poor, and reserved the 
 remainder. When he found himself master of a little 
 capital he determined to give np labouring work and 
 become a peddler in books. 
 
 Loaded with devout books and pictures he went 
 through the town and the neighbouring villages to sell 
 them, not so much to make money as to scatter good 
 ideas and draw souls to God by pious reading. Bad or 
 impious books he never carried, and he would willingly 
 exchange good ones for them in order to consign them 
 to the flames. He knew the evils caused by bad books ; 
 the more dangerous, the more carefully the poison is 
 concealed in the gilded pill. I must not lose the oppor- 
 tunity of saying something of the injury caused by this 
 infernal poison. If bad companions are to be avoided as 
 the source of misfortune and corruption, much more so 
 should bad books be abhorred ; for in them their wicked 
 authors, the plague of society, not only try to cloak their 
 errors and subversive maxims under the guise of virtue, 
 but also employ all their learning and eloquence and 
 adornment of style that the poison may unconsciously 
 flow into the fancy — a diabolical artifice which cannot 
 occur in private conversations. In the second place, 
 words spoken pass away without, perhaps, leaving much 
 impression behind, whilst seductive and impious maxims 
 remain with us in prohibited books, and may corrupt the 
 heart at all hours. For the heart is not always in the 
 same state and disposition, and may admit to-day what 
 on other occasions it would indignantly reject. In the 
 third place, we have not always with us the bad com- 
 panions, who might pervert us with their wicked dis- 
 course and worse example ; but at all times and in all 
 places we can find the corrupt book to seduce us. Finally, 
 bad companions are changeable like ourselves, and we 
 may bring them over to our views ; but bad books, on 
 the contrary, once printed and published, are incorri- 
 gible. Compare these circumstances and you must see 
 
330 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLT. 
 
 how much worse and more dangerous bad books are than 
 bad companions. On the other hand, if we consider the 
 sad effects they are producing in society, the family, 
 and individuáis, onr heart must shudder at the danger 
 those run who take in their hands those gilded cups 
 which contain the germ of eternal death. The hair 
 stands on one’s head on remembering the suicides and 
 other crimes not less horrid, which daily occur through 
 bad reading. How many children eat the bitter bread 
 of orphanage ? — how many wives bewail their widow- 
 hood ? how many families are steeped in misery from the 
 same cause ? — And who are the encouragers of these mis- 
 fortunes ? Accomplices, undoubtedly, at least, are those 
 who barter their souls by exposing such books for sale. 
 
 But let us return now to our saint. If among his 
 devout books he carried some profane but innocent ones 
 containing nothing against faith or good morals, but 
 story-books and works of that sort, it was not for the 
 purpose of selling them, but to lower their estimation, 
 and prevent others from selling them. For if anyone 
 fancied one of them he asked a prohibited price for it, 
 and encouraged the buyer to invest in some pious work 
 which he highly praised and offered at a tempting figure, 
 sometimes giving it for nothing. He told them that the 
 reading of the other books was useless, and a loss of the 
 time given us to work out our salvation, left the heart 
 empty, and created an attachment for worldly things of 
 which death must at last deprive us. To those who 
 bought books he made a present of pictures of saints, 
 devotion to whom he recommended as an efficacious 
 means to excite in the heart the love of virtue and the 
 horror of vice. On this account John was always fol- 
 lowed by the children, to whom he made little presents, 
 but not without asking and explaining some question of 
 the catechism, exhorting them to wish to go to heaven 
 and to avoid bad company. Thus, under the name of a 
 bookseller, he went about preaching everywhere and 
 pointing out the road to eternal life to the great ad- 
 vancement of souls. 
 
ST. JOHN OF GOD. 
 
 331 
 
 IY. 
 
 After spending some years at this business in Gib- 
 raltar, and neighbourhood, he took up his pack and went 
 to Granada The following appears to have been the 
 cause of this journey : On his rounds he one day met a 
 handsome and graceful little boy, poorly clad and bare- 
 footed. The saint took pity on him, and taking off his 
 own sandals he put them on the child; but as they 
 were much too large for his little feet the latter returned 
 them. Then John took him on his shoulders on top of 
 his pack, and pursued his journey. Gradually as he 
 went along the weight was increasing, till he was 
 covered with sweat and scarcely able to give a step. 
 The good man knew not that, like another Christopher, 
 he was carrying him from whose hand depends the ma- 
 chinery of the world. When they reached a fountain 
 the servant of God said to his companion: “I must have 
 a drink and rest a little, for you are so heavy you make 
 me sweat.” Then the unknown child said to him : 
 “John of God, Granada will be your cross.” The saint 
 at this looked round to where the boy stood, and snw 
 that he had in his hand a pomegranate cut in two, and 
 over it a cross brilliant as the sun. John was going to 
 throw himself at his feet, when the child disappeared. 
 On the moment the zealous book-merchant knew what 
 that symbol signified, and instantly left for Granada 
 (which means a pomegranate), being then about forty- 
 three years of age. 
 
 In spite of his frequent alms and presents of books, 
 John’s little store was considerably increasing with 
 heaven’s blessing. When he reached the city he com- 
 menced business on a somewhat larger scale. He pur- 
 chased a small house near the gate of Elvira, and set up 
 his religious library with the same anxiety as ever, that 
 is, not with a greed of temporal goods, but to gain souls 
 to God, Hot small was the fruit he gathered with his 
 industry and polite bearing in drawing many to the divine 
 
332 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 service ; but God marked him out for greater things. 
 The feast of the glorious martyr, St. Sebastian, was 
 being celebrated in Granada in a hermitage dedicated to 
 his honour, and our good bookseller went to it with his 
 usual devotion. The throng was great, for the panegyric 
 was to be preached by the celebrated John of Avila, a 
 man of great virtue, learning, and eloquence, not with- 
 out reason called the Apostle of Andalusia. The veiie- 
 rable preacher compared the martyr’s arrows to those of 
 divine love ; and he spoke so fervently that his words 
 were real arrows, which transpierced John’s heart in an 
 extraordinary manner. When the sermon was over the 
 latter rushed out of the church beyond himself, and, 
 agitated by a divine fury, ran through the streets as if 
 mad, tearing his hair and garments and throwing himself 
 in the mud, calling all the time for heaven’s mercy. A 
 crowd of children and idle people followed him, and 
 began to shout : “ The madman, the madman.” Then 
 John ran home, pursued by the boys, who threw at him 
 sticks, and stones, and mud, and the worst things they 
 could lay hands on. 
 
 As soon as he entered his shop he destroyed all the 
 profane books, distributed ‘die pictures and devout works, 
 and, collecting all the money he had, went to the prison 
 and liberated twenty-two persons detained for debt. But 
 he did not stop here : badly clad and ragged, he went to 
 the principal church, followed by a crowd of idlers, and 
 began to cry out : “ Lord, have mercy ! 0 my God, 
 
 have mercy on this ungrateful sinner.” Some priests, 
 suspecting that this was not real madness, took him to 
 John of Avila to examine him. Soon the zealous apostle 
 recognised the wise madness of the servant of God, and 
 the divine fire which burned in his breast ; nor did he 
 condemn the mode he had adopted of seeking humilia- 
 tion and contempt. The venerable man humoured him, 
 for he heard a voice in his interior which told him to 
 assist John towards the great enterprises for which God 
 had destined him. As soon as he reached the street he 
 
ST. JOHN OF GOD. 
 
 333 
 
 began again to run and sbont and publish his sins, exposed 
 to the insults and mockery of the crowd, till two pious 
 men took compassion on him and carried him weak and 
 exhausted to the madhouse, that he might betaken care of. 
 
 Here he was treated with great severity as a danger- 
 ous lunatic, which pleased John exceedingly, as it satis- 
 fied his desires of penance ; and if he had any pain it 
 was to see the little care and regard the keepers had for 
 the other patients. In several cases he laid aside his 
 apparent madness, and wisely and prudently warned the 
 attendants of their culpable neglect, and in some in- 
 stances reported them to the superiors. But they in re- 
 turn redoubled their harsh treatment of him, not for the 
 sake of curing his affliction, but in revenge for what he 
 did, and to make him keep silence. But who can gag a 
 man inflamed by zeal for the glory of God and the good 
 of his fellow creatures ? Hence John continued to point 
 out their negligence, whilst they increased their cruelty 
 to him. 
 
 Y. 
 
 When the venerable Avila was informed of what 
 passed, he sent persons to him to encourage him, and in 
 the end went himself to say it was time to throw off the 
 mask of feigned madness, and dedicate himself to some- 
 thing in the divine service. The saint obeyed; and, 
 being soon regarded as cured, he was liberated on St. 
 Ursula’s day, 1539. 
 
 As soon as he got out he began to think how he could 
 putin execution his former design of dedicating himself 
 to the relief of the poor; but, first of all, he went to 
 Montilla to make a general confession to Father Avila, 
 and to implore the benediction and patronage of Mary. 
 With this object he undertook a pilgrimage to Our Lady 
 of Guadaloupe in Estremadura, barefooted, bareheaded, 
 with a stick in his hand, and no more provision for the 
 journey than his trust in Divine Providence. When 
 
334 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 approaching some village he would gather a bundle of 
 sticks and sell it to supply his wants, dividing the price of 
 it with the poor. He was twenty-two days in the monas- 
 tery, where he received several favours from the Blessed 
 Virgin, who on one occasion put the Infant Jesus in his 
 arms. On his return to Granada, which, according to 
 the Lord's plan should be I is cross, he made his bundles 
 of sticks as before, visited the sick and assisted them as 
 best he could. When passing through Oropesa he begged 
 alms for them, and then went to the hospital to distribute 
 what he got. He treated all with special sweetness, en- 
 couraged them to suffer for Jesus, and omitted nothing 
 that could make their lot more tolerable, displaying most 
 charity with those most afflicted. At last he reached 
 Granada, the theatre of his most heroic virtues. 
 
 One evening, when in fervent prayer in the church 
 of Our Lady, the Blessed Virgin and St. John the 
 Evangelist appeared to him and placed a crown of 
 thorns on his head, the Queen of Angels saying to him : 
 “My Son wishes to bring you to glory over thorns.” 
 When the vision ended he left the church greatly con- 
 soled and animated to suffer for Jesus. As he went 
 along he saw a notice on a door which said : “ This house 
 to be let for the poor.” “ This is my crown of thorns,” 
 he said to himself ; and, trusting in Divine Providence, 
 he collected some alms and rented it. With what he had 
 collected he furnished it with forty- six beds, which, 
 though poorly found, were a luxury to those who had to 
 sleep on the hard ground. Then he went out on the 
 streets to look for poor people, some of whom he carried 
 on his shoulders to his new hospice. Edifying was the 
 tenderness with which he treated them. When he got 
 them home he washed and lovingly kissed their feet. 
 After accommodating them as best he could, one of his 
 first cares was to induce them to make a good confession, 
 which cures the soul, gives it peace, and in no slight 
 degree contributes to the health of the body. He went 
 out every day to seek alms for them with two large 
 
ST. JOHN OF GOD. 
 
 335 
 
 baskets hung from bis neck. With melting and plain- 
 tive voice he would say : “ Brethren, give some alms for 
 yourselves and he received so much that he had abun- 
 dance for his house. The cleanliness and order with 
 which he kept it were extreme. He himself swept the 
 rooms, made the beds, washed the dishes, and attended 
 the sick, having at this time no one to help him. But 
 sometimes the Lord did. One night he wanted water, 
 and taking two pitchers he went to the fountain at some 
 distance from his hospice. On his return he found 
 everything properly regulated — plates washed, house 
 cleaned and everything in order. When he asked the 
 poor: “Who did it?” they, in astonishment, said, of 
 course, “ It was himself ! ” “No,” said the saint, “for 
 
 I was out.” And as they insisted that it was none other 
 than himself, the servant of God said to them : “ The 
 Lord loves you dearly when He sent an angel to serve 
 you, for I can assure you I was out for water.” 
 
 VL 
 
 Some companions soon joined them, thus originating 
 the Institute of Charity in 1540, an institute which, 
 later on, extended its branches throughout the universe. 
 The inhabitants of Granada, edified by the saint’s charity, 
 contributed with increasing generosity to its support. 
 The archbishop, an ocular witness of John’s zeal in the 
 relief of the poor, and highly pleased not only at the 
 great good resulting from the order and economy ob- 
 served in the houses over which he presided, but by his 
 solicitude for the spiritual care of those under him, to 
 which he attended before all, took the holy enterprise 
 under his protection, and helped to give it stability by 
 his large alms. The prelate’s example produced the 
 best effect on the minds of the nobility, who earnestly 
 seconded the charitable plans of the servant of God. 
 One day, when asking help from the Bishop of Tuy, 
 Sebastian Ramirez de Fuenreal, the prelate asked him 
 his name, and the saint answered, John; and when 
 
336 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 asked his surname he replied: “ A child who told me to 
 come to Granada called me John of God.” “ That will 
 be your name in future,” said the bishop ; and he 
 ordered him to wear a habit of black and white frieze, 
 very like the one adopted later on by his religious. We 
 must observe that John, properly speaking, instituted 
 no new Order, was never a religious, or gave rules to his 
 companions. The Order which bears his name was 
 established six years after his death, in 1556 ; and, as 
 far as religious vows are concerned, they were not intro- 
 duced by the saint’s disciples till 1570. 
 
 The Count of Tarifa once put the disinterestedness 
 of the charitable servant of God to k the proof. John 
 went to the inn where the count was staying, to ask an 
 alms, and found him playing cards with other gentle- 
 men. He took a handful of coin from the table and 
 gave it to John. Then he followed him out, and, in- 
 tercepting him, said to him : “ Brother John, I am a 
 poor gentleman, with many claims on me. If you do 
 not assist me, I shall be obliged to do something un- 
 worthy of my rank.” The saint stopped him short, 
 and at once gave him his purse with all he had collected 
 in it. The following day the count went to the hospice, 
 and said : “ Brother, I have heard that they robbed you 
 of your purse last night.” “ They told you an untruth,” 
 replied John, “if they said so, for I willingly gave it to 
 a poor person who asked it.” The gentleman, admiring 
 John’s singlemindedness, restored him the purse, with 
 another hundred and fifty ducats, and gave orders to 
 his agent that, during his residence in Granada he 
 should daily supply the saint with a hundred and fifty 
 loaves, four sheep, and eight hens for the support of the 
 poor. Analogous things happened in the case of other 
 gentlemen. The love he had for his sick was extraor- 
 dinary : nor did he hesitate to expose himself on their 
 account to the danger of death. The bells of Granada 
 one day announced a fearful fire. The devouring ele- 
 ment had enveloped the royal hospital, and a great 
 
ST. JOHN OF GOD. 
 
 337 
 
 multitude had gathered to save the patients, but nobody 
 dared to penetrate through the flames. The servant of 
 God came running on hearing the news, and without a 
 moment’s hesitation fearlessly plunged into the fire, and 
 successively carried out, sometimes two at a time, the 
 feeble sick, who were bitterly bewailing their imminent 
 risk. The Lord was pleased with such heroic sacrifices, 
 and gave him unequivocal proofs of it. 
 
 One wet day he saw a poor man huddled in a corner, 
 apparently about to become a victim to cold and hunger. 
 John consoled him, and, notwithstanding that he was 
 laden with his baskets, got him on his shoulders as best 
 he could, to carry him to the hospice. He was jogging 
 along, quite content, when he unexpectedly tripped 
 and stumbled, and the poor man fell to the ground. 
 The saint was greatly distressed on his account. When 
 trying to pick him up again, he saw by his side a hand- 
 some young man, who said : “ Brother John, God sends 
 me to assist you, for He is much pleased with what you 
 are doing for His children, and has ordered me to write 
 r it all down in the Book of Life.” “ I am a great 
 sinner,” answered John, “and everything good is from 
 God. But tell me who you are, brother.” “ I am,” 
 answered the unknown, “the Archangel Raphael, sent 
 tQ aid you and your sick.” Another day the servant of 
 God was short of bread, and the same archangel brought 
 him a large basket of it. Another day he found on the 
 street a poor man in rags, pale, sickly, and half dead. 
 The saint carried him to the hospice, with his usual 
 * tenderness. When he went to wash his feet, according 
 to his custom, he found them pierced. Then he looked 
 up, and the face of the sick man shone brilliant as the 
 i sun. It was Jesus, disguised as a beggar. Ho words 
 could explain John’s ineffable joy, above all, on hearing 
 from the divine lips these words : “ John, whatever 
 you do to the poor, you do to Me.” On this the vision 
 disappeared, but such a splendour remained in the 
 room, that the inmates began to cry out : “ Fire ! fire !” 
 
 22 
 
338 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 The saint soon reassured them, by simply and humbly 
 telling them of the miracle. 
 
 VIL 
 
 But his charity was not confined to his own hospital : 
 he looked upon it as his own misfortune if the necessi- j 
 ties of any distressed person in the whole country had ¡ 
 remained unrelieved. He, therefore, made strict inquiry 
 into the wants of the poor over the whole province, 
 relieved many in their own houses, employed in a 
 proper manner those that were able to work, and 
 with wonderful sagacity laid himself out every way to 
 comfort and assist all the afflicted members of Christ. 
 He was particularly active and vigilant in settling and 
 providing for young maidens in distress, to prevent the 
 danger to which they are often exposed, of taking bad 
 courses. He also reclaimed many who were already 
 engaged in vice ; for which purpose he sought out 
 public sinners, and, holding a crucifix in his hand, with 
 many tears exhorted them to repentance. Though 
 his life seemed to be taken up in continual action, he 
 accompanied it with perpetual prayer and incredible 
 corporal austerities. And his tears of devotion, his 
 frequent raptures, and his eminent spirit of contempla- 
 tion, gave a lustre to his other virtues. But his sincere 
 humility appeared most admirable in all his actions, 
 even amidst the honours which he received at the Court 
 of Valladolid, whither business called him. The king 
 and princes seemed to vie with each other who should 
 show him the greatest courtesy, or put the largest alms 
 in his hands ; whose charitable contributions he em- 
 ployed with great prudence in Valladolid itself, and the 
 adjacent country: Only perfect virtue could stand the 
 test of honours, amidst which he appeared the most 
 humble. Humiliations seemed to be his delight : these 
 he courted and sought, and always underwent them with 
 great alacrity. One day when a woman called him 
 
ST. JOHN OF GOD. 
 
 339 
 
 hypocrite, and loaded him with invectives, he gave her 
 privately a piece of money, and desired her to repeat 
 all she had said in the market-place. 
 
 Worn out at last by ten years’ hard service in his 
 hospital, he fell sick. The immediate occasion of his dis- 
 temper seemed to be excess of fatigue in saving wood 
 and other such things for the poor in a great flood, in 
 which, seeing a person in danger of being drowned, he 
 swam in his long clothes to endeavour to rescue him, 
 not without imminent hazard of his own life : but he 
 could not see his Christian brother perish without en- 
 deavouring, at all risks, to succour him. He at first 
 concealed his sickness, that he might not be obliged to 
 diminish his labours and extraordinary austerities ; but 
 in the meantime he carefully revised the inventories of 
 all things belonging to the hospital, and inspected all 
 the accounts. He also reviewed all the excellent regu- 
 lations which he had made for its administration, the 
 distribution of time, and the exercises of piety to be 
 observed in it. Upon a complaint that he harboured 
 idle strollers and bad women, the archbishop sent for 
 him, and laid open the charge against him. The man 
 of God threw himself prostrate at his feet, and said : 
 “ The Son of God came for sinners, and we are obliged 
 to promote their conversion, to exhort them, and to sigh 
 and pray for them. I am unfaithful to my vocation 
 because I neglect this ; and I confess I know no other 
 bad person in my hospital but myself ; who, as I am 
 obliged to own with extreme confusion, am a most base 
 sinner, altogether unworthy to eat the bread of the 
 poor.” He said this with such humility and can- 
 dour that the archbishop, in admiration, answered : 
 “ Go, Brother John, and do as you like in your house ; 
 I give you full liberty.” 
 
 In the meantime the servant of God’s health was daily 
 growing worse. As soon as the bad news was known, 
 the virtuous lady, Anne de Osorio, went to visit him, and 
 seeing him almost in his agony lying on some boards, 
 
340 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 with an old coat over him, and a basket for a pillow, 
 she earnestly pressed him to go to her house, where he 
 should be properly looked after. “ God forbid,” said 
 John, “ that I should leave my poor ; I have lived among 
 them, and I wish to die among them.” Seeing that her 
 efforts were useless, she asked the prelate to command 
 him to do so on his obedience. The archbishop con- 
 sented, and ordered John to obey her as if he himself 
 were commanding. Before leaving the hospital he 
 appointed Anthony Martin, one of his first companions, 
 superior, recommending to him and the other disciples 
 charity and obedience ; then he went to visit the Blessed 
 Sacrament, from which he could scarcely be torn away, 
 He desired also to bid adieu to his beloved poor. 
 “Good-bye, dear brethren,” he said; “God knows I 
 wished to die among you ; but His blessed will be 
 done.” When the sick saw their dear father going, 
 they burst into wailing, grief, and sighs. John was also 
 greatly affected, and swooned away. When he reco- 
 vered, he said to them : “ Peace be with you, my chil- 
 dren, and remember me before God.” 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Arrived at the lady’s house, she herself prepared, 
 with the help of her maids, and gave him with her own 
 hands, his broths and other things, and often read to 
 him the history of the Passion of our Divine Redeemer. 
 He complained that whilst our Saviour, in His agony, 
 drank gall, they gave him, a miserable sinner, broths. 
 The whole city was in tears ; all the nobility visited 
 him ; the magistrates came to beg he would give his 
 benediction to their city. He answered that his sins 
 rendered him the scandal and reproach of their country, 
 but recommended to them his brethren, the poor, and 
 his religious that served them. At last, by order of the 
 archbishop, he gave the city his dying benediction. His 
 exhortations to all were most pathetic. His prayer con- 
 sisted of most humble sentiments of compunction and 
 
ST. GERMANA COUSIN. 
 
 341 
 
 inflamed aspirations of divine love. The archbishop 
 said Mass in his chamber, heard his confession, gave him 
 the Viaticum and extreme unction, and promised to pay 
 all his debts, and to provide for aH his poor. The saint 
 expired on his knees before the altar, on the 8th of 
 March, 1550, being exactly fifty- five years old. He was 
 buried by the archbishop, at the head of all his clergy, 
 both secular and regular, accompanied by all the court, 
 noblesse, and city, with the utmost pomp. He was 
 honoured by many miracles, beatified by Urban VIII., 
 in 1630, and canonised by Alexander VIII., in 1690. 
 His relics were translated with great pomp to the church 
 of his children in 1664. To such a height of glory does 
 the Lord raise those who suffer from the madness of 
 the cross. 
 
 ST. GERM AHA COUSIH, SHEPHERDESS. 
 
 I. 
 
 “Learn of me,” said Jesus, “for I am meek and 
 humble of heart.” St. Germana learned perfectly the 
 lesson of the Divine Master, and was so distinguished 
 in His school, that she merited to be glorified by the 
 Lord as a diligent pupil. Hot far from Toulouse, in 
 Prance, are the ruins of a castle surrounded by pic- 
 turesque scenery, overlooking Pibrac, a little village in 
 the neighbourhood. In this village was born, in 1579, 
 our holy maiden, called the shepherdess of Pibrac. Her 
 father, according to tradition, was a respectable farmer, 
 named Laurence Cousin. The birth of Germana brought 
 joy to his house, but it was soon overclouded, when it 
 was found that one of her arms was paralysed, and her 
 little body covered with scrofulous humours, from which 
 she should suffer during life. This very circumstance 
 excited a more lively tenderness in her mother, Mary 
 Larroche, and made her more solicitous for the well- 
 being of her dear child. The mother’s heart is ever the 
 
342 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 
 more inflamed, the more the fruit of her womb has to I 
 suffer, and Germana’ s attended her from her earliest I 
 years with yearning solicitude. In answer to her I 
 prayers the Lord, in compensation for the temporal 1 
 goods of which He deprived her, poured out on the I 
 girl’s heart abundance of celestial graces, of which she I] 
 had ample need during life. The poor little thing, at j| 
 five years of age, lost her mother, and with her all human I 
 consolation — her truly Christian mother, who, young as I 
 she was, had planted the seeds of virtue in her heart, 1 
 which Germana afterwards took such care to cultivate. 1 
 
 Her father married again, and his new wife, contrary 9 
 to Laurence’s expectations, turned out a cruel step- I 
 mother to the poor sickly child. In the meantime the 9 
 little thing, favoured with heaven’s benedictions, I 
 thought over the Christian teaching of her mother, and I 
 meditated on the lessons which from time to time she I 
 learned in the church from the lips of her pious priest, I 
 and, above all, opened her soul to the inspirations of the I 
 Holy Ghost, who took delight in the immaculate inno- I 
 cence of the poor orphan. Without these graces it is I 
 inconceivable how she could at her tender age, have I 
 borne with all she had to endure. 
 
 Obliged, as Germana was, on one hand, to undertake 
 labour beyond her strength, and, on the other, afflicted j 
 by her ordinary ailments, to which since her mother’s' 
 death nobody paid attention, she began thus early to fly 
 to the protection of God and the Blessed Virgin, accus- 
 toming herself to pray and to suffer her pains in silence. 
 
 It is enough to say that she never saw a sign of affec- 
 tion in her stepmother’s face. The very thing which 
 should naturally rouse her compassion for the poor 
 child only made her abhor her. The very sight of 
 Germana, with her dead arm and her running sores, 
 caused her disgust, and she drove her from her with 
 supreme contempt. Hot content with this, she scolded 
 and maltreated her, and loaded her with opprobrious 
 expressions. Though the poor orphan was always 
 
ST. GERMANA COUSIN. 
 
 343 
 
 docile, attentive, and obedient, though she repaid her 
 hard names with expressions of filial tenderness, she 
 never could get an affectionate word or a compassionate 
 look from her. She could do nothing that was not ill 
 done, and that would not entail on her bitter taunts and 
 worse treatment. Germana did not complain of this ; 
 but, finding herself deprived of a mother’s love, she 
 had recourse in all her troubles to the Mother of beau- 
 tiful love, with whose aid she was prepared to endure 
 more sufferings. And God was pleased with the vic- 
 tories of His elect one. 
 
 II. 
 
 Up to this her father had regarded her, if not with 
 affection, at least with compassion ; but, instigated by 
 her cruel stepmother, lest her ailments should be com- 
 municated to the children of his second marriage, he 
 sent her to mind a few sheep he had, and obliged her to 
 sleep on some straw in a corner of the sheep-fold. And 
 there the poor thing had to take her rest ! But she, 
 fortified by her first Communion, accepted, not only 
 without murmuring, but with pleasure, her new duties 
 and lodging, and endeavoured to do her work the best 
 way she could, as a service done to the Lord. 
 
 In a little valley, watered by a stream called the 
 Courbet, to-day is to be seen the trunk of a withered 
 oak, without leaves or branches, covered over with moss 
 and ivy. This tree reminds the inhabitants of Pibrac 
 of the heroic virtues which their ancestors saw the 
 devout shepherdess practise under its then green and 
 wide- spreading arms. Every morning, with her piece of 
 black bread and her reel and wool and whatever else she 
 required to spin, which she did the greater part of the 
 day as ordered, she went out quite content to feed 
 her little flock on the banks of the river. The solitary 
 and pastoral life has many dangers, particularly when 
 idle people engaged in it come together free from all 
 
344 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 restraint and vigilance. But the wheel or reel was a 
 powerful arm in Germana’s hands to conquer her ene- 
 mies ; and when the thread fell from her fingers through i 
 fatigue, she would kneel down to thank God for her 
 victories. In this position she was often seen by the 
 neighbours in the shade of the oak. Nor was her 
 prayer interrupted by following her sheep when inclined 
 to stray, or by the burning rays of the sun in summer 
 or the cold in winter, or much less by her constant work 
 at spinning. Everywhere, and in all her occupations, 
 she knew that God was present, and she treated with 
 Him about the affairs of her soul. It is related of her 
 that whenever she heard the sound of the Angelus bell 
 she at once knelt down, no matter where she was, in snow 
 or rain, hail or sunshine. Thus was this tender girl 
 growing in sanctity, preparing herself day by day for 
 the rude contests which the devil might force on her, 
 and temptation never found her unprepared. 
 
 In the evening, when the farmers were returning 
 home singing their rude songs of gladness, Germana 
 would also gather her sheep, and recite her prayers on 
 her way home to the sheep-fold. The return from 
 labour is for young people an hour of enjoyment, which 
 in winter they spend around the hearth, and in the 
 moonlight in summer, and in their games and sports 
 they forget the fatigues of the day ; but for the poor 
 little orphan shepherdess the nights were times of 
 suffering. When, after settling her flock, she presented 
 herself to her stepmother, she was usually received with 
 new injuries, and even though she were shivering with 
 cold or wet with rain in winter never did she get a 
 corner at the fire, which was completely taken up by her 
 brothers and sisters. Like one suffering from the 
 plague, she was kept far from them, lest they might be 
 infected by her. And whilst the others enjoyed their 
 supper at the common table, she had to sit apart and 
 content herself with a piece of bread, which they gave 
 her to keep her alive. When supper was over she would 
 
ST. GERMANA COUSIN. 
 
 345 
 
 retire to her corner under the stairs, exposed to every 
 draught. The devout girl, perfectly resigned to the 
 divine will, suffered all her troubles with invincible 
 patience. And though she could not but feel treatment 
 so unjust, yet she was glad to imitate thus closely the 
 example of Jesus, and give Him proofs of her love in 
 the midst of her dire adversity. For let no one imagine 
 that the servant of God was insensible to her unjust 
 humiliations. Sanctity does not destroy nature, and 
 those who are saints do not, therefore, feel less keenly 
 the thorns with which this miserable exile is strewn. 
 Though the slightest complaint never escaped her lips, 
 yet she often moistened her breast with her tears, and 
 wept herself to sleep on her straw litter. How often 
 in the depth of her bitterness did she exclaim with the 
 Lord : “ If it be possible, let this chalice pass from me ; 
 but not my will but thine be done !” These natural and 
 in no way reprehensible effects did not prevent her from 
 enjoying true peace in the midst of her afflictions. Se- 
 vere as were her sufferings, much as they might be 
 opposed to human flesh, they were yet beloved by Ger- 
 mana, for they served to separate her heart from earthly 
 things, and raise her desires to eternal goods, solid and 
 real goods, to which alone the soul, enamoured of its 
 model, Jesus Christ, should aspire. 
 
 III. 
 
 Thus did the servant of God sanctify the hours of the 
 day, laden though she was with a cross so heavy ; and 
 not content with loving God herself, carried away by an 
 ardent zeal for the divine glory, she knew how to engage 
 others in the service of her loving Father, and exercise 
 in the solitude of the fields the industrious charity of an 
 apostle. Almost daily there went to Germana many 
 other shepherdesses and village girls, attracted by our 
 saint’s amiability and good example, to hear her talk of 
 the things of God. There under the oak, while engaged 
 
346 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 at her work, she sometimes reminded them of the priest’s 
 discourse the previous Sunday ; sometimes she explained 
 to them the principles of the Christian doctrine ; now 
 painted to them the terrible pains of the damned, now 
 described the ineffable glory enjoyed by the saints in 
 heaven, and at other times told them of the unspeakable 
 sufferings endured by Jesus that we might all become 
 good and be saved. What fruit these pious discourses 
 must have produced, joined to the fervent prayers she 
 offered for the conversion of sinners ! Often when those 
 girls were grown up would they remember Germana’ s 
 pious maxims, which would serve them as a shield 
 against the attacks of the enemy. Other visitors, too, 
 had the devout shepherdess in her solitude. Many old 
 beggars went out to see her and share her crust. A 
 poor castaway like Germana, with scarcely enough to 
 eat, and obliged to spend the day at her work, could not 
 satisfy her ardent charity by visiting prisons and hos- 
 pitals, or attending the sick, or clothing the naked ; 
 and yet her industrious zeal found in her lowly condi- 
 tion a means of exercising mercy. The miserable piece 
 of bread given her by her stepmother was divided among 
 the poor, she herself retaining the worst of it, scarcely 
 sufficient to deceive her hungry stomach. And this was 
 not the work of one day only, for every day she subjected 
 herself to the same privation. Her heart felt for the 
 wants of the poor, and, forgetting her own necessity, she 
 attended only to that of others. Who knows but per- 
 haps the Lord, who through her intercession two cen- 
 turies after miraculously multiplied the bread of some 
 poor nuns in Bourges, did also the same with what 
 passed through her hands in life ? We may suppose 
 that after dividing her supplies with the needy she would 
 appease her hunger with wild berries. And if, according 
 to the saying of our Divine Master, the woman who 
 threw the coin into the collection-box of the Temple 
 gained such merit, what must have been the merit of 
 our servant of God who took the food out of her mouth, 
 
ST. GERMANA COUSIN. 
 
 347 
 
 having no gold or silver to give, and gave it to God’s 
 poor, thereby, too, exposing herself to the revilings of 
 her stepmother ? And, besides the earthly bread, she 
 fed their souls by teaching them Christian patience, 
 reminding them of the shortness of their trials and of 
 the eternal joy reserved for those who faithfully follow 
 in the footsteps of Jesus, who became poor for our ex- 
 ample and redemption. In fine, Germana did for the 
 poor all she could, according to her age, position, and 
 means, thus placing herself on an equality with those 
 who carry out great enterprises, for the Lord does not 
 look so much to the magnitude of the work done as to 
 the affection and intention with which it is done. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Whence did Germana derive such heroic virtue and 
 fortitude P We need scarcely say that she had it from 
 the inexhaustible source whence all the saints derived it : 
 she had it from prayer, and, above all, from the sacra- 
 ments of Penance and the Eucharist. Every eight days 
 she, who, according to tradition, preserved her baptismal 
 innocence, prostrate at the feet of the minister of Jesus 
 Christ, confessed all her slightest imperfections, in order 
 to be more and more purified in the bath of penance; 
 and every Sunday she approached with extreme devo- 
 tion and modesty the Eucharistic Table to eat the bread 
 of angels, called by the Church the Bread of the strong 
 and the Wine which engenders virgins. She sanctified 
 the festival days in a wonderful manner. The sheep on 
 these days were shut up ; for though Laurence treated his 
 daughter heartlessly enough, he had not lost the fear of 
 God so far as to allow the days consecrated to the Lord 
 to be profaned by work. And so the servant of God, 
 having almost nothing to do at home, and looking on 
 herself as in her stepmother’s way, took her slice of 
 bread, as on other days, and went to feed her spirit be- 
 fore her sweet Jesus, remaining almost the entire day 
 
348 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 in the church. There, before the tabernacle of the 
 Most High, she gave loose rein to her tender devotion, 
 inflaming by pious considerations the fire which burned 
 in her breast. How the divine flame would envelop a 
 heart so well disposed ! Nor did she allow it to die out 
 during the week ; on the contrary, she endeavoured to 
 keep it alive by all the means within her reach. She 
 had a holy envy of the dim lamp, as well because it 
 burned day and night before the Blessed Sacrament, as 
 because it was all consumed in honour of her loving and 
 adorable spouse. 
 
 At the foot of the oak there was a cross rudely formed 
 of two sticks. That cross reminded the passer-by that 
 there was hidden the treasure of a soul dead to the 
 world and its vanities. Our saint had erected it as an 
 altar for her holocausts ; and there on her knees she 
 poured out her soul, and offered it in sacrifice to God in 
 simple prayers. It is said that she was often seen there 
 absorbed in profound contemplation. And not only the 
 cross, but everything she saw united her to her Lord. 
 The fragrant flowers in summer, and the dry leaves 
 chased by the wind in winter, invited her to love God, 
 the Author of life and death : the heavens studded with 
 brilliant stars reminded her of the reward which her 
 trials and humiliations should gain for her if borne with 
 a Christian spirit. And well she needed all these helps. 
 
 Her good conduct, instead of securing for her appre- 
 ciation and praise, which she highly deserved, afforded to 
 many an occasion of mockery and contempt. That 
 spirit, ever unvaried and consistent under the hardest 
 trials, that imperturbable peace and tranquillity, the 
 pleasure with which she bore with injuries, appeared to 
 them the effect either of insensibility or refined hypo- 
 crisy, to secure for her the useless name of saint. Such 
 the malignity of the world, such the fate of the just ! 
 No day passed that some of her ill-reared companions, 
 male and female, seeing in Germana’s conduct a tacit 
 condemnation of their own, did not load her with epi- 
 
ST. GERMANA COUSIN. 
 
 349 
 
 thets and insults. When returning from her work they 
 would run after her and call her names. In the village 
 she at last came to he know as the big saint. All this 
 and much more did the servant of God suffer, glad to 
 have something to offer to Christ crucified. 
 
 To the ardent love she had for Jesus, she united a 
 filial and solid devotion to the Blessed Virgin. One of 
 the practices of piety from which she derived greatest 
 consolation and fruit was the Holy Rosary. She recited 
 it at least once a day on her knees, meditating on the 
 deep mysteries it reminds us of. Besides the affection 
 with which she saluted Mary at the sound of the Angelus 
 hell, she celebrated her festivals with special fervour, 
 preparing herself several days before with acts of virtue 
 to obtain the protection of so loving a Mother. How 
 many graces would flow on our saint from the bosom 
 of Mary, who never allows herself to be overcome in 
 generosity by any of her children ! This devotion must 
 have served her immensely in the spotless preservation 
 of the pure lily of virginal purity, which she carried 
 with her intact and fragrant to the grave. 
 
 V. 
 
 From the meadow where Germafia was herding she 
 could see the parish church, whose lofty tower daily 
 resounded with the silvery voice of the bell, calling the 
 faithful to Mass. On hearing the signal the devout 
 shepherdess’s heart would fly to the temple, and there 
 attend in spirit at the tremendous sacrifice, as her duties 
 did not allow her to be present in person. But this did 
 not satisfy her fervour. One day she felt an ardent 
 desire to attend the Holy Sacrifice, and calling her sheep 
 together, planting her reel in their midst, and making 
 the sign of the cross, she ran to the church to be pre- 
 sent at Mass. Her joy was great when on returning 
 she found her sheep quietly resting about the reel and 
 under the shade of the oak. After this she daily repeated 
 the same practice. And though she abandoned them for 
 
350 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 this purpose, and the place was infested with wolves, 
 which committed ravages on other flocks, she never lost 
 a sheep or a lamb. Nor rain, nor snow, nor storm 
 could prevent her from following that holy practice. 
 
 In going to the church from the meadow she had to 
 cross the Courbet, which in time of rain swelled to such 
 a flood that the most daring would not venture to wade 
 it. One day a torrent came down its channel carrying 
 everything before it. Germana, when she heard the 
 bell, gathered her sheep and planted her reel as usual, 
 and went on her way towards the church. Some 
 neighbours who knew her habits watched with interest 
 what she should do when she came to the flood. They 
 thought the big saint , as they called her, would for once 
 be compelled to return to her sheep. But they were 
 greatly mistaken. Germana pursued her way as if no- 
 thing happened, and coming to the Courbet’s bank, the 
 miracle of the Jordan was renewed, and the waters 
 opening gave her free passage across. They say that 
 this miracle was repeated as often as the stream became 
 swollen. What is certain is that, wondering at the event, 
 the witnesses of it ran and reported it in the village, and 
 many gave up calling her in derision the big saint and 
 treated her with the respect her virtues deserved. 
 
 But this did not make the saint vain, but rather in- 
 creased her humility and love of God ; and as the divine 
 flame became more intensified in her heart, her charity 
 and mercy to the poor grew proportionately. These two 
 loves, that of God and that of the neighbour, are two 
 parts of one whole, are two links in the same chain, are 
 the two poles on which all Christian perfection turns, are 
 two actions springing from the same virtue, are two 
 manifestations of one sole charity ; they are two merits 
 in the eyes of God, but inseparable merits, merits ever 
 in perfect harmony. Thus can we comprehend how in 
 spite of her stepmother’s harsh treatment, the saint’s 
 conduct was always the same, repaying taunts with 
 praise, disdain with a smile, hatred with love, cruel 
 
ST. GERMANA COUSIN. 
 
 351 
 
 injustice with prompt obedience. When her mother 
 saw her reverenced and beloved by the neighbours on 
 account of the wonderful things told of her, far from 
 entering into herself and valuing the precious jewel hid- 
 den in her own house, she conceived greater aversion for 
 the innocent girl, and sought every occasion to afflict 
 and discredit her. She suspected her of pilfering the 
 bread for the poor, and to turn her husband against her 
 accused her of it to him as if it were a matter beyond 
 doubt. The poor orphan was to blame for everything 
 disagreeable that turned up in the house. Poor woman ! 
 passion blinded her to the benedictions which the Lord 
 shed on the family on Germana’ s account. She did not 
 see her crops flourishing and her flocks increasing : only 
 one thing she saw, and that was that many persons enter- 
 tained respect and veneration for the virtuous Germana. 
 
 VI. 
 
 On a certain day the servant of God was going to 
 divide her piece of bread with the poor, who were 
 awaiting her on the road, when she suddenly heard the 
 shouts and imprecations of her stepmother. Believing 
 she had caught the pious shepherdess in the very theft, 
 she ran like a fury after her with a stick. Some neigh- 
 bours who were going to Laurence’s house, seeing her 
 in a passion, and suspecting what she was going to do, 
 followed her through curiosity and for the purpose of 
 protecting the innocent victim. They arrived in time ; 
 but their presence did not restrain the angry woman 
 from loading the poor girl with insults, while with her 
 stick raised she commanded her to give up what she 
 had in her apron. Germana at once obeyed, and, oh ! 
 prodigy of the Lord ! the bread had disappeared, and in 
 its place were fresh and beautiful flowers, flowers un- 
 known in the country, then buried in the depth of winter. 
 The witnesses of this scene, when they recovered from 
 their astonishment, ran to spread the news through the 
 village ; and the stepmother returned sad and crestfallen 
 
352 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 to her house. When the report reached Laurence’s 
 ears, it determined him to take steps to free his daughter 
 from the cruelties of his wife. He consequently ordered 
 her to let Germana alone and give her no annoyance ; 
 and asking the girl’s pardon for his previous neglect, he 
 told her she should henceforth occupy her proper posi- 
 tion in the house, and sleep no longer in her corner, 
 hut in a decent bed like his other children. The poor 
 thing was alarmed at this, for she had no other plea- 
 sure than to suffer for Jesus, and for His sake lead a life 
 strewn with trials and privations. She consequently 
 did not agree to all her father proposed, but by prayers 
 and entreaties obtained from him permission to follow 
 without obstacle the inspirations of her mortification 
 and piety. Therefore Germana pursued her usual 
 method of life: she lived on bread and water, slept under 
 the stairs on her bed of straw, and tended her sheep in 
 solitude and retirement. If she availed herself in any- 
 thing of the influence her virtues had gained her in the 
 neighbourhood, it was to prevent offences to God, and 
 to attach the inhabitants to the service of the Lord. 
 Only one thing did that blessed soul miss — the insults 
 which had helped her so much to know and despise this 
 vain and corrupt world. She felt this loss very much, 
 but the Lord supplied it in other ways, which she wil- 
 lingly accepted ; and, on the other hand, she rejoiced that 
 her new position afforded her increased means to succour 
 the poor, and greater authority and veneration to make 
 them listen submissively to her Christian instructions. 
 
 VII. 
 
 In the spring of 1601, a priest of Gascony was going 
 to Toulouse. It was night when he reached Pibrac, and 
 he could scarcely make out his way in the darkness. 
 On a sudden a certain brightness dissipated the obscu- 
 rity, and he saw a splendid procession of sacred virgins 
 come down from heaven and go to a corner of the vil- 
 lage. At the same time two religious caught by the 
 
ST. GERMANA COUSIN. 
 
 353 
 
 darkness, and ignorant of the road they should take, 
 sought shelter in the ruins of the castle of the ancient 
 lords of Pibrac. In the middle of the night they also 
 saw two virgins, surrounded by brilliant light, pass in 
 the same direction as the others. Neither the latter 
 nor the former knew the meaning of it. 
 
 At break of day, Laurence observing, by the melan- 
 choly bleating of the sheep, that Germana had not come 
 out as usual, anxiously sent one of her little brothers to 
 call her. The child did call more than once, but Ger- 
 mana did not answer. He then went into the room 
 and found her dead on her straw bed, modestly laid out 
 and her face like that of an angel. She died as she 
 had lived, deprived of all human consolation, but at- 
 tended by that troop of virgins who had come to be 
 present at her departure. And the good priest as well 
 as the two religious hastened to Pibrac in the morning 
 to inquire who had died during the night, for they had 
 seen a virgin leave it crowned with a brilliant diadem, 
 and accompanied by numerous angels, more refulgent 
 than the stars. The inhabitants were not aware of what 
 had happened in Laurence’s house, but from the description 
 they at once concluded that the holy shepherdess, as they 
 called her, had expired. They ran to inquire, and found 
 Germana lifeless, but inspiring with her angelic coun- 
 tenance, not fear and dread, as usually happens in such 
 cases, but piety and devotion in the hearts of all. This 
 beautiful flower was scarcely twenty-two years of age 
 when she was transplanted to the garden of glory. 
 When the news spread in the neighbourhood innumer- 
 able crowds flocked to her funeral. She was buried in the 
 church in front of the pulpit, with a candle in her hand 
 and a garland of rye-stalks and flowers on her head. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Forty-three years after, a female relative of hers or- 
 dered in her will that she should be buried beside Ger- 
 mana. When digging the grave they found the saint’s 
 
 23 
 
354 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 body incorrupt, beautiful, and flexible, with blood flow- 
 ing from a slight wound made by the pickaxe. The 
 whole village collected at the news of this miraculous 
 preservation, and the old men who had known her in 
 their youth recognised the body as that of Laurence’s 
 daughter. To satisfy the public curiosity they had to 
 remove the sacred relics, and place them in a decent 
 coffin before the pulpit, in sight of all the people But 
 as the lords of Pibrac had a seat there, in order not 
 to have before their eyes a reminder of death in that 
 venerable body, they ordered it to be transferred to 
 some other place. Dearly did their want of courtesy 
 and their irreverence to the servant of God cost them. 
 Very soon after, Mary, the wife of Francis Bauregard, 
 the owner of the village, was afflicted with a horrible 
 ulcer on her breast, and her only son, whom she was 
 nursing, was on the point of death, poisoned by the 
 corrupt milk. They called in the most skilful and 
 experienced doctors ; but the illness of the mother 
 and child, far from yielding to the costly remedies, 
 was growing momentarily worse. The husband sus- 
 pecting that perhaps it was a punishment from heaven 
 for what they had done to the mortal remains of Ger- 
 mana, communicated his well-grounded fears to his wife, 
 and they both recommended themselves to the charitable 
 shepherdess, promising to repair their fault if she restored 
 their health to the family. The following night a bright 
 lio-ht surrounding Germana awakened the sick woman. 
 The servant of God spoke to her with sweetness and 
 amiability, promised her the favour she had asked, and 
 then disappeared. Then she called the rest of the family, 
 and told them what had occurred. She at once looked 
 at her sore and found it cured : she made them bring 
 the child, who had been three days without sucking, 
 and it immediately took the breast, as if it had never 
 been unwell. On the report of this prodigy many has- 
 tened to implore the protection of the blessed girl, whose 
 body was enclosed in a leaden urn at the expense of the 
 
ST. GERMANA COUSIN. 
 
 355 
 
 owners of Pibrac. The new miracles wrought in favour 
 of those who had recourse to her sepulchre contributed 
 to foment the devotion of the people, which the impious 
 revolutionists of last century were unable to extinguish. 
 
 At the customary cry of “ Hurrah for liberty and 
 fraternity ! ” the throne of France was upset by a mob 
 of wicked men, who subjected the people to the most 
 fearful slavery in trying to root out religion from the 
 hearts of the faithful. Hot content with barbarously 
 assassinating the ministers of the Most High, and 
 trampling down or murdering all who professed them- 
 selves Christians, they profaned the sacred vessels, 
 destroyed the altars, scattered to the wind the ashes of 
 the saints, and committed in all parts unheard-of pro- 
 fanations and sacrileges. Such is the liberty defended 
 by those emissaries of hell, who forge their plans in 
 darkness, to bury the entire world in fearful barbarity. 
 Their turn came to the relics of our saint. They removed 
 her body from the view of the devout, and buried it in 
 quicklime to [dissolve it, if they could. Just chastise- 
 ment of God ! Of those engaged in this sacrilegious 
 attempt one was suddenly attacked with paralysis ; 
 another’s neck was turned till his face looked backwards ; 
 and a third, in the flower of youth, was afflicted with 
 an obstinate disease, so that he could scarcely walk a step 
 without the aid of crutches. This last carried with him 
 to the grave the punishment of his wicked act ; but the 
 two former, repenting of their sin, obtained their complete 
 re-establishment through the intercession of the saint. 
 
 In spite of the opposition and the rage of the revo- 
 lutionists the faithful continued to venerate the servant 
 of God in her glorious sepulchre, till the times mended, 
 and they had the consolation of seeing her disinterred 
 anew, the body being found as fresh as ever, notwith- 
 standing the means adopted by the sacrilegious libertines. 
 The Lord never ceased to glorify His humble servant ; 
 and she who in life received only contempt and ill- 
 treatment, after death was honoured by kings and their 
 
356 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 subjects, young and old, learned and ignorant. In view 
 of the numerous and great portents wrought through 
 her intercession, she was raised to the honour of our 
 altars by the immortal Pius IX. in May, 1853 ; and on 
 the 29th of June, 1867, on the solemn feast of the 
 eighteenth centenary of the death of the prince of the 
 apostles, St. Peter, she was inscribed by him in the 
 catalogue of saints, the 15th of June being appointed 
 as her feast. Here we have a life easily imitated by all 
 Christians : to keep the holy Commandments, to frequent 
 the sacraments on Sundays and holidays, to attend daily 
 in spirit or in reality at the holy sacrifice of the Mass as 
 far as duty might permit, to profess a filial devotion to 
 the Blessed Virgin, daily reciting the holy Rosary in her 
 honour, to obey her superiors promptly and gladly, to 
 suffer sickness with resignation and patience, to put up 
 with slights and injuries, to avoid the danger of staining 
 her soul with sin, to do all the good she could — this was 
 Germana’s rule of life by which she sanctified her soul. 
 Let us do the same, and we shall be holy and perfect in 
 the sight of God. 
 
 VENERABLE ANNA MARIA TAIGI, HOUSE- 
 MAID AND SEAMSTRESS. 
 
 I. 
 
 “ He who to show His power and wisdom usually 
 chooses the weak and despised of the world to beat down 
 the glory of the age, to mock the plans of the impious 
 and break the power of hell ; He in our times in which 
 human pride and the forces of the abyss seem to conspire 
 to destroy, if possible, not only the foundations of the 
 Church, but the bases of civil society, opposed a woman 
 to the storm of impiety which rages on all sides.” — This 
 woman was Anna Maria. Such is the encomium with 
 which Pius IX. commences the decree to proceed to the 
 
VENERABLE ANNA MARIA TAIGI. 
 
 357 
 
 beatification of the venerable servant of the Lord, whose 
 life we are going to trace. 
 
 In the year 1775, a poor family, oppressed by misfor- 
 tune and misery, left Sienna for Rome. A tender little 
 girl of six years painfully followed the steps of her 
 father and mother, and they had to carry her by turns, 
 as well to rest her as to hasten their journey. The 
 child was called Anna Maria Gianetti, born at Sienna 
 on the 29th of May. Her father Louis, and her mother 
 Maria Masi, having come down in the world, were 
 obliged to give up the apothecary’s shop by which they 
 had hitherto lived, and leave their country in search of 
 another in which they might do better. Rome appeared 
 suitable to hide their poverty, and thither they directed 
 their steps. When they reached the end of their journey, 
 without means or friends, they had to hire as servants 
 to gain their livelihood. 
 
 Anna Maria lived with her parents in a little house 
 they had taken ; and whilst they were engaged at their 
 service they gave charge of the child to some good nuns 
 dedicated to the care and education of poor children. 
 Through their careful training the innocent girl formed 
 the delight and enchantment of her unfortunate parents. 
 Active, sharp, and intelligent, she quickly learned the 
 lessons which she received in that school of virtue. Nor 
 did her parents neglect to co-operate with the care of the 
 good religious during the time they had at their dispo- 
 sal. Christian hope had been their consolation and shield 
 in the tribulations with which the Lord usually proves 
 His elect ; and they anxiously wished that their daugh- 
 ter, who would have no fortune, should inherit the most 
 precious of all earthly gifts — conformity to the Divine 
 Will. For this purpose they frequently taught her the cate- 
 chism, took her to Mass early in the morning, and trained 
 her in the exercises of piety becoming a good Christian. 
 
 When she made her first Communion, under the 
 prudent direction of the nuns, her parents thought of 
 taking her from school, and putting her to work, to 
 
358 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 relieve their necessities. At thirteen years of age they 
 placed her in a silk factory to reel and make skeins, and 
 in this humble employment she passed some years. But 
 this work did not satisfy her activity, nor the aspirations 
 which now begun to awaken in her heart. She con- 
 sequently told her parents that she would like to enter 
 some house as servant. Louis, anxious to have his 
 daughter near him, asked his mistress, who was a rich 
 lady, named Mary, to take her as housemaid. The lady 
 consented. But what can all the precautions and 
 anxiety of parents do when children place themselves 
 on the brink of the precipice ? Many errors they can 
 undoubtedly prevent ; but not seldom have they to 
 lament disagreeable things, the fruit of youthful rash- 
 ness. Anna Maria let vanity enter her heart. From the 
 unfortunate anxiety to please, to see and be seen, she 
 began to dress, perhaps above her means, and to show 
 off her adornments and beauty in public : and this 
 foolish pleasure nearly made shipwreck of her. Of 
 course as servant she could not be tied to the house at 
 her father’s side, as would have suited her; and so in 
 one of her excursions the enemy laid his snares for her. 
 Her eyes met other eyes which disturbed her heart, the 
 look was followed by tender expressions, and the tender 
 expressions by an offer. Grace never deserts us in 
 moments of trial : if we fall it is our own fault. Anna 
 Maria listened to the voice of God, speaking in her 
 conscience, and the hour of struggle was for her the 
 hour of victory. In that contest she realised that 
 modesty should be the veil of Christian maidens, and 
 the impenetrable shield of their innocence. How many, 
 forgetful of this adornment, become the victims of their 
 own imprudence ! 
 
 II. 
 
 This danger somewhat opened the eyes of our incau- 
 tious housemaid and left her steeped in salutary un- 
 rest. At this very time a good Milanese named Domi- 
 
VENEKABLE ANNA MARIA TAIGI. 
 
 359 
 
 nick Taigi, a friend of Louis’, was looking for a wife, 
 young, industrious, healthy, and amiable, who might 
 make the happiness of his house. Gianneti’s daughter 
 appeared to him to have all the qualities he wanted ; and 
 so, having obtained her parents’ cqnsent, he asked the 
 hand of the girl. Our housemaid recommended the 
 matter to God, for though a little vain, she knew the 
 step was of supreme importance. After consulting the 
 Lord and her parents, she believed her new state would 
 be a safe anchor in the tempests of this boisterous world, 
 and she consented to the match, and was married in 
 Epiphany week at twenty years of age. Unfortunately 
 her new position, far from smothering in her heart the 
 love of adornment and amusement, appeared only to 
 increase it. Her husband, too, in showing her off in pub- 
 lic, fomented those habits so dangerous at her time of life. 
 
 Steeped in her vanities, little did she trouble herself 
 about her eternal salvation. Content with the minimum 
 fulfilment of the Church’s commands she thought she 
 satisfied her obligations to God, and could without 
 scruple waste her time in frivolous diversions. Vanity 
 and extravagance are not seldom the ruin of rich fami- 
 lies, but to a poor one, which forgets to lay by some- 
 thing for a rainy day, it is enough to be one week 
 without work, or to be visited with sickness, to find 
 itself reduced to poverty. Cleanliness and tidiness are 
 the only luxury which sensible artisans should aim at. 
 These maxims of salvation and life had little or no effect 
 on Taigi’s young wife. If God, the loving Father of the 
 poor, occasionally sent her remorse to withdraw her 
 from the abyss of perdition, it usually found her deaf to 
 its call. It is hard to kick against the goad ; and so 
 weariness and want of enjoyment grew in Anna Maria 
 in proportion to her resistance to grace, which called her 
 to a perfect life. 
 
 One day, Mrs. Taigi, dressed in her best, was crossing 
 the square of St. Peter, to attend a ceremony which was 
 to be celebrated in the church of the Vatican. At the 
 
360 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 same time a Servite religions chanced to meet her, and 
 a mysterious voice in his interior said to him : “ Observe 
 that woman well. I will place her in your hands, that 
 you may labour for the conversion and sanctification of 
 her soul, for I have chosen her.” They each pursued 
 their different roads ; and Anna Maria continued strug- 
 gling against grace, and the good Servite working 
 zealously in the conversion of sinners. 
 
 But the more she resisted the divine attentions, the 
 more she tried to drown the voice of her unquiet con- 
 science and to sleep on the roses of pleasure, so much 
 the more did she feel agitated by remorse and buried 
 in deep sadness and bitterness. Grace, on the whole, was 
 daily gaining ground : her sense of distaste and vacuity, 
 was to her a dim light which obscurely showed her the 
 felicity of the just in this valley of tears. Blessed are 
 the poor, for they more readily enter on the path of 
 life ! Their very indigence deprives them of those sad 
 means of counteracting the weariness arising from 
 pleasure by plunging into new and varied delights, of 
 suffocating remorse by numerous stratagems, of closing 
 the door on divine grace by all the enchantments of a 
 corrupt world, till sickened of all human inventions, 
 they grow tired of themselves, and life becomes an 
 insupportable burden. Anna Maria was in the happy 
 condition of the poor, without any resources to fill the 
 vacuum of her heart, and at last she hearkened to the 
 voice of God, and resolved on a change of life. 
 
 III. 
 
 Just judgments of God ! Prostrate at the feet of a 
 confessor, she said : “ Father, you have before you a 
 poor sinner ; ” but instead of meeting with a good 
 Samaritan to anoint the wounds of her heart with the 
 balsam of life, she met with one of those Jansenists of the 
 last century, who with their errors and caprices made the 
 road to heaven almost impassable to poor sinners, and 
 with a few words he sent her away disconsolate, without 
 
VENERABLE ANNA MARIA TAIGI. 
 
 361 
 
 giving her the pardon of her sins. Sad, confused, 
 agitated like a frail bark tossed by contrary winds in the 
 midst of a furious tempest, she knew not what course 
 to pursue. Great and serious obstacles are cowardice 
 and pusillanimity in the path of good, for to reach the 
 pinnacle of perfection a decided will aided by grace is ne- 
 cessary and sufficient. Our poor lamb was disheartened, 
 and surrendered herself to the mercy of the waves 
 which raged round her heart. But the dissipations, plea- 
 sures and diversions of the world, instead of affording her 
 the consolation she sought, only appeared to cry out to 
 her, “ Why do you run from the fountain of life ? in us 
 you will not find peace ; ” and her bitterness and desola- 
 tion increased. Submissive to the voice of her conscience, 
 she made another effort, and, determined on seeking a 
 new confessor, she went to the church of the Servites. 
 
 Fearing she might meet with another wolf dressed as 
 a shepherd, and fluctuating between life and death, she 
 entered the temple and looked from one side to another, 
 not knowing to whom to go to discharge the load of her 
 conscience. Her eye at last falling on a confessional 
 surrounded by numerous penitents, thither she went 
 with the firm resolution of relieving her afflicted soul. 
 As soon as the confessor saw her at his feet he recog- 
 nised in her the woman whom he had seen in the square 
 of St. Peter, and speaking in a paternal tone, said to 
 her: “So you have come at last!” He was Father 
 Angelo, who treated her with charity and mercy ; and 
 convinced that the Lord had great designs with regard 
 to his penitent, he did his best to put her on the 
 path of perfection. When she got up from the feet of 
 the good pastor, Anna Maria wept with joy, and would 
 not have exchanged a moment of the sweet peace which 
 abounded in her heart for all the pleasures of earth put 
 together. Her change was radical and irrevocable. 
 Penance, poverty, assiduous labour, works of charity, 
 patience, the care of her home, prayer and recollection 
 took the place of the delicacy, ambition, idleness, dissi- 
 
362 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 pation, and neglect in which she had previously lived. 
 As soon as she gave herself without reserve to the 
 divine service, she went to such extremes in the 
 rigours of her penance that her confessor had to 
 moderate her excesses. She condemned herself to eat 
 only what was absolutely necessary to preserve her life. 
 Her ordinary food was a cup of coffee and a slice of 
 bread on her return from Mass, a few spoonfuls of soup 
 and a small bit of meat at noon, and for supper a few 
 mouthfuls of salad. She usually took her dinner and 
 supper standing, in order to attend the rest of the family 
 and hide her abstinence. Besides the fasts prescribed 
 by the Church, she fasted on Wednesdays, in honour of 
 St. Joseph, on Fridays in honour of the Passion of our 
 Lord, and on Saturdays in honour of the Blessed Virgin. 
 Her mortification, however, was greater with respect to 
 the quality than the quantity of her food ; for she always 
 selected the worst, and when her husband brought her 
 some sweets, of which she was very fond before her 
 conversion, she never tasted them. As to drink, she 
 never took anything but pure water, and that only at 
 meals, for outside these hours she never drank, no 
 matter how burning her thirst might be. 
 
 Her mortification in this respect did not end here, for 
 sometimes in spite of the great heat of summer and the 
 thirst produced by her abstinences, she passed entire 
 days and nights without tasting water. There were 
 times when she could willingly cast herself headlong into 
 a fountain to extinguish her burning thirst ; but on these 
 occasions she either entirely deprived herself of drink 
 or tasted merely a few drops which only increased her 
 suffering. Thus did she literally comply with what she 
 frequently used to repeat: “ He who loves God should 
 mortify himself in every way, and in all things,' and the 
 more the beastly body kicks against it, the more tightly 
 should he pull the reins.” She not only denied all con- 
 solation and indulgence to her senses, but endeavoured 
 to incessantly mortify them, and this besides taking into 
 
VENERABLE ANNA MARIA TAÍGI. 
 
 363 
 
 account lier disciolines, crown of thorns, and other things 
 with which she chaslised her body in punishment of her 
 sins. What a shame for us, who are so delicate and yet 
 require so much to apply the pruning hook to the vicious 
 excrescences which abound in us ! In the beginning of 
 her conversion she conceived such a horror of sin, that 
 when she thought of the offences which she had offered 
 to God, the most loving of Fathers, she would beat her- 
 self till she mingled blood with her tears of repentance. 
 
 IY. 
 
 Interior mortification usually accompanies the exterior’ 
 and in Anna Maria the former was much greater than 
 the latter. She was resolved to give nature no satisfac- 
 tion, not only in things forbidden, but in the lawful, 
 and she carried out her resolution. Her favourite 
 maxim was that to acquire the love of God we must 
 row against the flood and oppose our own will. With 
 this rule of conduct she had gained such control over her- 
 self that always acting from supernatural motives, she con- 
 formed on all occasions to the doctrine of Jesus Christ. 
 Entirely dead to herself, she not only suffered taunts 
 and injuries without complaint, but treated with special 
 sweetness and affection the persons whose offences ex- 
 cited her strongest antipathy. There were not wanting 
 terrible contests of the passions which rebelled against 
 reason, but she knew how to subdue them without letting 
 the world know the agony she interiorly suffered, and 
 after repeated victories, gained at great cost, she enjoyed 
 the fruits of that peace which is beyond conception. 
 Anxious to close the door on the passion which had led 
 her astray, and from devotion to the Blessed Trinity, 
 she put on the habit of the Third Order of Trinitarians, 
 and with her confessor’s and her husband’s permission 
 she wore it ever after. 
 
 This perseverance in the right path, once entered on, 
 is not attained without assiduity in prayer. Maria knew 
 this perfectly well ; and convinced of her own instability, 
 
364 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 weakness, and nothingness, she endeavoured to reduce 
 to practice our Saviour’s advice about watching and 
 praying, and praying always. She fitted up a little 
 oratory in her house, dedicated to the Mother of Mercy, 
 before whose image she kept a lamp burning night and 
 day, and this was her place of retirement and recollec- 
 tion in her leisure hours. In summer, when the rest of 
 the family were sleeping the siesta , she retired to pray. 
 During the night she sat up praying till two or three 
 o’clock in the morning, at which hour her husband used 
 to come home from the Chigi- palace, where he was a 
 servant ; but to hide her devotions, and avoid annoying 
 him by her sittings up, she would go to bed when she 
 heard him approach. And yet her heart was not satis- 
 fied with these long spells of prayer. She got up very 
 early in the morning to go to the church to pray, so that, 
 according to the testimony of a daughter of hers, her 
 hunger for prayer scarcely allowed her to sleep three 
 hours. Prayer was her daily bread. As a child runs to 
 its mother when it meets with any trouble, so the servant 
 of God, in her temptations, in her trials, in all her ne- 
 cessities, hastened to Him by means of prayer with all 
 the effusion of her soul. Full of unflinching faith, of 
 firm hope, of ardent charity, she kept this sacred fire 
 alive with ejaculations, which like penetrating arrows 
 flew to the core of the Divine Heart. She frequently 
 repeated : “ Jesus, my hope, have mercy on me ! Mary, 
 the mother of hope, pray to Jesus for me ! Jesus, Father 
 of the poor, have pity on me !” 
 
 If she prayed and laboured hard for her own sancti- 
 fication, she was not less anxious to promote that of the 
 whole family. The Lord had blessed her marriage with 
 four sons and three daughters, two of whom were trans- 
 planted to heaven like tender flowers in the spring of 
 life. The care she took of them was extraordinary. 
 They could scarcely lisp when she taught them to bless 
 Jesus and Mary ; and after teaching them to read and 
 write, along with the catechism, she sent them to the 
 
VENERABLE ANNA MARIA TAIGI. 
 
 365 
 
 public schools which Christian charity supports in Rome. 
 She never let them go alone, and as far as possible she 
 went with them herself. Determined on preserving their 
 innocent souls stainless, she not only kept them away 
 from seeing or hearing anything that might affect in the 
 slightest degree their purity and candour, but also took 
 pains to accustom them to the practices of piety. Thanks 
 to her vigilance and care, her sons, when they came to 
 the proper age, went to communion once or twice a month 
 and her daughters once a week. When they committed 
 a fault, and would not be corrected by gentle means, 
 she also knew how to apply rigorous chastisement and 
 make their tears flow. “ He who spares the rod hates 
 the child,” says the Holy Ghost; and this rule the ser- 
 vant of God acted on when she judged it requisite. With 
 the object of inspiring them with modesty and mutual 
 respect, she made each one sleep in his or her own little 
 cot, which she surrounded with cheap but clean curtains. 
 When her daughter, Sophy, was old enough to get mar- 
 ried, she allowed her to speak to the young man for two 
 months, that she might learn his disposition, but never 
 alone. What a lesson for many incautious mothers ! 
 God grant it may not pass unnoticed or not understood. 
 
 Y. 
 
 And in spite of such prudence, and care, and pre- 
 caution, she could not make them all respond to her 
 wishes ; but her conscience told her she had done her 
 duty, and she left the rest to Providence. Besides in- 
 culcating the fear of God, conscious of her own insuffi- 
 ciency, she constantly prayed for them to the Lord of 
 mercy. When relieving her burdened heart one day 
 before her loving Jesus, she was consoled with these 
 sweet words : “ Be not cast down, for I will save them 
 because they are your children, and because they are 
 poor, and the poor are my beloved ; yes, 1 will save 
 them though they have defects.” She had also at home 
 another field in which to display her zeal and charity. 
 
366 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 A husband’s crossness, the peevishness of old parents, 
 the arrogance and haughtiness of daughters-in-law, are a 
 dull file which wears out the patience of virtuous souls. 
 Anna Maria had all these trials at once ; and yet in the 
 most difficult circumstances, in the most unexpected op- 
 position, her lips distilled nothing but sweetness and 
 honey. Embracing the cross, recognising the paternal 
 hand of Providence in everything, she met difficulties 
 and bore with bad temper in silence, she responded to 
 injuries with amiability, she humoured everybody’s 
 whims, and made herself all to all to bring them to 
 Jesus Christ. When her husband came home out of 
 temper, and began to scold without reason, she closed 
 her lips, listened to him with patience, and when he was 
 calmed down, if she thought it right, respectfully showed 
 him he was wrong, and completely disarmed him. As 
 to her aged parents, she tried with all her might to 
 sweeten their old age and poverty for them, consoling 
 them in their afflictions, aiding them in their necessities, 
 giving them things she knew they liked, and leaving 
 nothing undone to content them, and repay them for 
 the toil and hardships they had endured for her. She 
 attended them in their last sickness like a loving daugh- 
 ter, closed their eyes at their death, and had several 
 Masses said for the repose of their souls. When she 
 suspected there was going to be any row in the family, 
 above all between her mother and the wife of her son 
 CamilluSjShe, like an angel of peace, prudently stopped it at 
 once, without offence to either. She showed like sweet- 
 ness and charity to the young dressmakers, who worked 
 under her direction. 
 
 Her house was like a convent — all was order and 
 harmony, everything was done in its proper time, 
 religious exercises occupying the first place. In the 
 morning when she returned very early from the church, 
 she awoke all with the sweet names of Jesus and Mary. 
 Then they went together to the domestic oratory to thank 
 God for favours received, offer to Him the works of the 
 
VENERABLE ANNA MARIA TAIGI. 
 
 367 
 
 day, and ask His blessing ; and afterwards, unless 
 something important prevented them, they went in turn 
 to hear Mass. In the evening she went with her daugh- 
 ters to visit Jesus in the Forty Hours, and then after 
 paying a passing visit to some of the sanctuaries of 
 Rome, she quietly went home. At night they all ga- 
 thered around their holy mother and read some pious 
 book, usually the Lives of the Saints, and then resting 
 from the fatigues of the day, they indulged in innocent 
 conversation. When the hour for the Rosary came, they 
 said it with devotion, finishing up with the invocation 
 of the holy protectors of the house and night prayer. 
 At the end of this pious practice they retired to bed ; 
 and when they were all settled in it their loving mother 
 went to say something kind to them, to recommend them 
 to their angel guardians and give them her maternal 
 blessing. What a blessed sight in the eyes of heaven to 
 see a family governed with such zeal and sweetness ! 
 
 On festival days they added to these practices of piety 
 strict rest from all servile work not absolutely necessary, 
 and attendance at the functions of the parish church. 
 She also allowed them some recreation, and for this 
 purpose would take them to visit some sanctuary at a 
 little distance from the city, and give them a lunch on 
 chestnuts and wine. One of these trips fell on a Friday, 
 and the servant of God accompanied her family as usual, 
 but got a reprimand from her Divine Spouse on account of 
 that day being consecrated to the memory of the Passion; 
 and ever after they abstained from this recreation on 
 Fridays. What felicity, what joys can be compared to 
 the peace, the consolation of a family educated in so 
 Christian a manner, so united, so orderly, so satisfied 
 with their poverty ? Anna Maria would not have ex- 
 changed for all the pleasures the world affords one sole 
 moment of this happiness, which cannot be purchased 
 with all the riches of earth, and is only to be procured 
 by prayer, abnegation, and a good life. In everything 
 virtuous this magnanimous woman led the van of her 
 
368 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 house: she was the soul which gave movement and life 
 to all the members of that poor but happy family. She 
 was never a laggard on the path of perfection. 
 
 Yl. 
 
 What an illustrious model of all virtues they had in 
 her ! Her devotion to the Blessed Trinity, to the 
 Saviour of the world, to the Virgin Mary, to St. Joseph 
 and her protecting saints was most tender. In the holy 
 sacrifice of the Mass she offered to the Eternal Father 
 in union with the priest, the blood of His Divine Son 
 for the conversion of sinners and the propagation of the 
 Catholic faith. She asked the Incarnate Word by the 
 Virgin’s milk which He had sucked, and by the tor- 
 ments which He had suffered on the cross, to dissipate 
 the darkness of heresy and infidelity ; she besought the 
 consoling Spirit to renew the face of the earth and burn 
 all souls in the flame of divine love. The mysteries of 
 the infancy of J esus as well as of His passion were to 
 her divine lessons, which formed the object of her ordi- 
 nary meditations, and from which she drew abundance 
 of prudence and wisdom. With the view of engraving 
 them on her heart she prepared for the birth of Jesus 
 Christ with a fervent novena, and at all times endea- 
 voured to regulate her conduct by the teachings of the 
 cross. One of the practices from which she derived 
 greatest advantage, and which she recommended most 
 to her children, was the exercise of the Via Cmcis , 
 which she was accustomed to make in the Colosseum ; 
 and when she could not take part with the other mem- 
 bers of the confraternity there established,, she did it 
 in her own house or in some neighbouring church. The 
 image of Jesus crucified was her beloved book. Rarely 
 did she peruse it without feeling burned in divine love, 
 and shedding abundant tears of compunction and sorrow. 
 The fruit of these meditations was her love for Jesus 
 in the Blessed Sacrament and His deified Heart ; 
 
VENERABLE ANNA MARIA TAIGI. 
 
 369 
 
 and in reward of her faithful correspondence she 
 tasted the sweets of Mount Thabor every time she ap- 
 proached the Eucharistic Table. Having to receive every 
 day by her confessor’s express orders, she was deter- 
 mined not to perform through custom or routine an act of 
 such importance, and prepared for it not only by a con- 
 tinual vigilance over her thoughts, words, and actions, 
 in order to avoid the slightest faults, but also with all 
 the generosity of her soul studying all the movements 
 of her heart for the purpose of adjusting them to the 
 Divine Will. In this way she went to the altar with the 
 dispositions of a burning seraph. Once she received her 
 sweet Jesus she retired to make her thanksgiving, and 
 sometimes fell into a rapture through the ardour of the 
 charity which consumed her. Here is a proof established 
 by the testimony of ocular witnesses, which shows us 
 how much the Lord was pleased with the virtue of His 
 servant. On one occasion, when she was about receiving, 
 the Sacred Host slipped from the priest’s fingers, but 
 instead of falling, as all feared, it was for a moment 
 suspended in the air, and then as if guided by some in- 
 visible hand, rested on Anna Maria’s tongue. 
 
 And this was not the only case, for several times 
 Jesus appeared to her visibly in the sacred form. Amongst 
 others, while praying one day in the church of the 
 Child God, she saw in the Sacred Host a beautiful lily, 
 arid over its flower Jesus appeared clothed in celestial 
 splendour. She was enchanted with the loveliness of the 
 Divine Child, and she heard a voice saying : “I am the 
 flower of the fields and the lily of the valley : I am all 
 thine.” And Anna Maria was all Jesus’ ; for Jesus she 
 would willingly have given her life. Learning from the 
 Sacred Heart to be meek and humble, she employed these 
 extraordinary graces to humble herself the more, to 
 blame her lukewarmness, and enliven in her breast the 
 flame of divine love. 
 
 We cannot love Jesus without being devout to Mary, 
 nor be truly devout to Mary without serving Jesus with 
 
 24 
 
370 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 all our heart. Animated by this solid devotion Mrs. 
 Taigi had recourse to the Queen of Heaven, as a child 
 has to its mother, and she called her by this tender name. 
 She celebrated all her feasts with great devotion, she in- 
 voked her whenever she heard the clock strike, and in 
 her conversation she tried to inflame all in love for this 
 incomparable Queen. She also entertained a deep love 
 for St. Joseph, and she venerated as her patrons St. 
 Peter, St. Paul, and several other saints. A heart so 
 well disposed and so deligently cultivated could not do 
 less than burn with zeal for the divine glory, and so it 
 was in reality. And this zeal which devoured her, as 
 well for the conversion of sinners as for the relief of the 
 souls in Purgatory, was daily increased by the new and 
 extraordinary graces she received from heaven. There 
 is one which we cannot pass over in silence. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Soon after her conversion she was favoured with the 
 constant attendance of a brilliant sun in which she saw 
 the past, the present, and the future, and could even 
 divine secrets of conscience. She could also see the 
 state of souls after death, and read her own imperfec- 
 tions, revealed by stains on the sun’s surface, which dis- 
 appeared on her bewailing them at the feet of her 
 confessor. This circumstance caused her to be visited 
 by many people, high and low, who came to consult her 
 about matters which interested them. On one occasion 
 she was speaking to the ambassador of France in Turin, 
 who was then in Rome, and she recounted to him simply 
 and unaffectedly his whole life, his private weaknesses, 
 and the part he took in the Revolution. She also, to his 
 great astonishment, described the intrigues of the seve- 
 ral courts of Europe. He was a whole hour listening 
 to her, and on coming out, with tears in his eyes, he said 
 to the person who had brought him : “ What a prodigy ! 
 what a wonder ! How is it possible for a poor woman to 
 know all these things ? She is really full of divine 
 
VENERABLE ANNA MARIA TAIGI. 
 
 371 
 
 knowledge ! The most sagacious diplomatists are mere 
 pigmies to her.” Yes, it was God who revealed those 
 things to her to frustrate the plans of the impious and 
 exalt the glory of His Church. 
 
 Illumined by this supernatural light, she more than 
 once denounced the sanguinary and homicidal plans of 
 the secret societies, and foretold the revolutionary at- 
 tempts which were to take place in the pontificates of 
 Leo XII., Pius VII., and Gregory XVI. When the 
 servant of God saw the terrible calamities which should 
 befall society in chastisement of its crimes, she prayed, 
 she wept, she offered herself as an expiatory victim to 
 detain the arm of Divine Justice, and often the Lord, 
 accepting her generous and charitable offering, visited 
 her with sickness, persecutions, misery, calumny, desola- 
 tion, and terrible spiritual pains. And notwithstanding 
 her sufferings she would repeat her offer whenever she 
 saw new punishments impending. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Her predictions were not circumscribed to the circle 
 of her life. She foretold the coming of Pius IX. to the 
 pontifical throne, describing the whole of his brilliant 
 and stormy reign. She often spoke of the terrible per- 
 secutions which the Church should suffer, and of the 
 persons who should lay aside their mask and manifest 
 their hypocrisy in all its repugnant perversity. She 
 asked the Lord who should successfully bear the hard 
 trials of this period ; and she was told the humble of 
 heart. To disarm the divine justice and lighten the 
 scourge reserved for our calamitous times, she introduced 
 into her family the custom of saying after the Rosary 
 three OurFathers, Hail Marys , and Glory be to the Father. 
 The Lord also revealed to her, that after those hard 
 trials the Church should gain such a brilliant and unex- 
 pected triumph, that men would be astounded, and 
 whole nations would run to the bosom of the Roman 
 
372 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 Church, the mother of true peace and prosperity. God 
 grant that the days of bitterness may be shortened, and 
 the aurora of victory appear. 
 
 Let us return to our devout matron’s house, and ob- 
 serve her edifying example. It were natural, seeing 
 how Anna Maria was admired by the great ones of 
 earth, and visited by bishops and cardinals, to imagine 
 that her dwelling should be enriched by the gifts of 
 these noble personages. And, indeed, such would be 
 the case if she had not loved poverty and refused the 
 smallest recompense, desirous of living with her family 
 by the work of her hands. Weaned from everything 
 of earth, she only sought and ambitioned the riches of 
 heaven. Maria Louisa, Queen of Etruria, an intimate 
 friend of hers, would alone have raised her out of 
 poverty ; but the servant of God refused to go to live 
 in the palace with her family, as the duchess desired, 
 and determined on not leaving her humble station, she 
 refused. several other offers. The duchess one day com- 
 plaining that she never asked her for anything, opened 
 a box full of gold coin, and said : “ Here, Anna, take as 
 much as you like.” The poor woman, thanking her for 
 her good intentions, answered with a smile : “ You are 
 
 very simple, my lady. Thank God I need nothing, for 
 I serve a Master richer than you, who in His bounty 
 provides, and will provide, for all my wants.” And, in 
 fact, when her work and her family’s did not meet their 
 wants, she confidently appealed to the Lord for aid, and 
 the Lord provided for her by clearly providential means. 
 One day, when praying for this purpose before a crucifix 
 in the church of St. Paul, she heard a voice which said 
 to her: “ Go home quickly, and you shall find all you 
 want.” And so it was in reality : a bank draft had 
 arrived, sent to her from Florence by the Marquis Ban- 
 dini. She sometimes went to the doors of the rich and 
 asked an alms, not for herself and her family, but for 
 some poor person in want. God supplied her and hers 
 with the necessaries of life, and she desired no more. 
 
VENERABLE ANNA MARIA TAIGI. 
 
 373 
 
 The holy home of Nazareth, where Jesus led an ob- 
 scure and laborious life for thirty years, was the type 
 which she tried to copy in the regulation of her own. 
 At all hours the grateful aroma of labour, sanctified by 
 prayer ascended to heaven from it. Let her be sewing, 
 or washing, or smoothing, or making beds, in all her 
 works she knew how to keep her heart united to Jesus, 
 and offer Him the incense of prayer ; nor did her labour 
 impede her prayer, nor her prayer interfere with her 
 labour. When the French took possession of Rome, a 
 great drought afflicted the country, and Anna’s hus- 
 band lost his salary of eighteen shillings monthly, as 
 his master had gone to Paris. Then the poor woman 
 infused into her family the courage and confidence of 
 which she was herself full. Though sick, and some- 
 times unable to leave her bed, she worked night and 
 day making corsets and slippers for ladies. The Lord 
 blessed her efforts, and her family never wanted any- 
 thing. Her greatest pain was her inability to succour 
 the poor as she could have wished. But still she did 
 something to assist them. She told ‘her children to 
 never send away a poor person from the door with- 
 out a piece of bread. She often deprived herself of 
 it to give to them. When called to visit some sick 
 person, she went at once, and examining her myste- 
 rious sun, either told him what remedies to employ, 
 or exhorted him to prepare to die like a good Christian ; 
 and not seldom did she cure them by the imposition of 
 her hands, or by giving them a medal of the Virgin to 
 kiss. Her charity and mercy were very great. 
 
 IX. 
 
 She felt particular pleasure in visiting the hospitals, 
 and she often brought the patients biscuits and wine; and 
 to animate her daughters with the same spirit she would 
 take them with her and teach them how to attend the 
 sick. When she met on the street a poor woman badly 
 dressed she would take her home, and after giving her 
 
374 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 something to eat, would make her a present of some 
 clothes. And this woman, so generous and heroic, was 
 in her own eyes a miserable wretch, only worthy of 
 contempt : praised and honoured by all, she only saw 
 her shortcomings and defects. Really her heroism, 
 united to the gift of miracles and of prophecy, would 
 have exposed an ordinary soul to that most insidious of 
 all temptations, vainglory, which had so enslaved her 
 in her youth, and finds such easy access to a woman’s 
 heart ; but Anna Maria was too well grounded in hu- 
 mility to attribute to herself the glory due to God alone. 
 Convinced that one may prophesy and work miracles 
 without being a saint, she looked on herself as the out- 
 cast of the world, and the most ungrateful of sinners. 
 When she happened to be guilty of any defect, she bit- 
 terly accused herself, and with holy indignation called 
 herself a proud, lazy, vain good-for-nothing. 
 
 From this humility sprung the respect with which 
 she treated others, especially priests and the poor. She 
 always reverently kissed the hand of the former, when- 
 ever she met them in conversation, and desired her 
 children to do the same. Without this profound humi- 
 lity and low estimation of herself, how could she have 
 been constantly resigned to the Divine Will in the most 
 difficult circumstances ? Her son Camillus was frau- 
 dulently drawn as a soldier in the conscription by the 
 French, and because he was poor he had no means of 
 escaping the service. Anna felt it very much, and was 
 a long time without speaking from grief ; but she suf- 
 fered it in silence, without a single complaint against the 
 perpetrators of the injustice. With the same peace and 
 resignation she heard they had imprisoned her son 
 Alexander for a mere trifle, though her heart suffered 
 bitterly on account of it. All the many years she lived 
 on the Corso she had in the house, though on a different 
 flat, a woman who greatly tried her patience. When- 
 ever she met Anna, she became like one possessed, 
 loaded her with epithets, calumniated her, and said 
 
VENERABLE ANNA MARIA TAIGI. 
 
 375 
 
 everything that could occur to the mind of a woman 
 without the fear of God. Anna calmly listened to her, 
 spoke cordially to her when she met her on the stairs, 
 and not seldom made her presents, as if she were her 
 intimate friend ; hut all in vain, for in return she got 
 only new insults and injuries. When praying one day 
 to the Lord to have compassion on that woman, He 
 answered that she should see her some day asking 
 alms at her door. As the pious matron persisted in 
 praying for her, that the Lord might pardon her and 
 avert that punishment, she obtained only the following 
 answer : “ Let me chastise her in this life, that she may 
 repent, and be pardoned in the next.” The fulfilment 
 of the first part left no doubt of the second. The un- 
 happy woman, though she had a flourishing linen shop, 
 soon lost all sbe had, and was compelled to beg alms. 
 Her misfortune made her look with other eyes on her 
 whom she had calumniated : and not once alone, when 
 she came to ask help at Anna Maria’s door, did she 
 find in her a soothing consoler in her misery. 
 
 Mrs. Taigi was a heroine, not only in her mercy and 
 humility, but in her invincible patience. To the desola- 
 tion of spirit from which her mysterious sun did not 
 free her; to the terrible temptations against faith, hope, 
 and charity, with which the enemy afflicted her; to the 
 persecutions of men, who tried in a thousand ways to 
 destroy her peace, we must add the pains and torments 
 of her crucified body. Her headaches, which were in- 
 tensified on Fridays at the hour of Our Saviour’s agony, 
 were so intense that she had often to go to bed ; and 
 when her household duties would not allow her to do 
 this, her suffering was so great that, despite her efforts 
 and strong will, her tears would flow in torrents. She 
 suffered in her eyes, ears, hands, mouth, and feet ; but 
 what caused her the greatest pain was the pestilential 
 odour occasioned by the sins of the world. Her con- 
 fessor came to see her one day, and asked her how she 
 was. “ In the agony of death,” she answered. The 
 
376 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 priest added : “ Let us conform to the divine dispensa- 
 tions, and ever say : Lord, Thy will be done.” The sick 
 woman, in the midst of her pain, immediately answered : 
 “ On earth as it is in heaven.” Though crucified on her 
 bed of pain, she was the consolation, the peace, and the 
 joy of all about her. Forgetting her own sufferings, 
 she was interested in others, prayed for all, and attended 
 to all. The hour of her victory, when she should go to 
 receive the crown of her deserts, was now approaching. 
 
 X. 
 
 When attacked by her last illness, in spite of her suf- 
 ferings and the pain she felt at leaving her large family 
 almost destitute, she preserved an unalterable calm, 
 and spoke of her approaching departure as if it were a 
 pleasure-trip : and, indeed, there is no recreation more 
 agreeable to a saint than to find himself at the gate of 
 eternity, the end of his trials and exile ; as to a sinner 
 there is no moment more terrible than that in which all 
 his vain delights are about to end and his lasting tor- 
 ments to commence. Rejoicing at the pleasant perspec- 
 tive her virtues opened up to her, the venerable woman 
 felt inundated with joy on seeing her poor dwelling con- 
 verted into a sanctuary, for by an indult of Gregory 
 XVI., who held the servant of God in great esteem, 
 she not only had a daily Mass in her private oratory, 
 but could receive the Holy Eucharist without being 
 fasting. Two days before she received the Viaticum, 
 she took leave of her husband and children ; she left 
 the charge of the house to her eldest daughter, who 
 was a widow ; and gathering them all about her bed, 
 she spoke to them in the most feeling manner, recom- 
 mending to them compliance with the obligations of the 
 divine law, devotion to the Blessed Virgin, the practice 
 of daily reciting the Rosary in common, and, finally, 
 making them all kneel down, she gave them a last adieu 
 and her maternal blessing. The family withdrew with 
 tears in their eyes, and she, also deeply moved, retired 
 
VENERABLE ANNA MARIA TAIG1. 
 
 377 
 
 into herself to think of nothing hut of preparing for 
 death and becoming united for ever to her beloved 
 Jesus. After receiving the last sacraments with a de- 
 votion more easily imagined than described, she gave 
 up her soul to her Divine Spouse, on the 9th of June, 
 1837. Her funeral rites were such as her virtues de- 
 served, and by the Pope’s orders, she was buried in a 
 distinguished place in the Campo Verano. Pius IX., 
 in view of her heroic virtues, and the singular favours 
 obtained by those devout to her, by decree of the 8th 
 of January, 1863, ordered the introduction of the cause 
 of beatification of this illustrious woman. 
 
 The Lord unceasingly proposes models to people in 
 all states of life, to proclaim by example that the way 
 of sanctity is open to the whole world. We do not 
 deny that there are many things in the life of our 
 heroine which cannot be the object of our imitation ; 
 but it was not these gratuitous gifts which made her 
 agreeable in the eyes of God, but her penitence, her 
 poverty, her humility, her patience, and her crosses : 
 and in this we can all follow her example, according to 
 the measure of divine grace. What excuse can we 
 allege for having yielded to human respect, for not being 
 frugal and modest, for not frequenting Jhe sacraments, 
 for not performing the daily exercises of a good Chris- 
 tian ; in fine, for not following Jesus Christ on the royal 
 road of the cross ? The conduct of our servant of God 
 will always belie those who try to cloak their defects 
 under a false impossibility. Let us walk, then, in our 
 Saviour’s footsteps, and we shall be happy in this world 
 and in the next. 
 
ISUtónng from fije Jptstar|) of fjje '§qI\) Jfamilt). 
 
 FROM THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT TO HIS 
 SENDING HIS DISCIPLES TO PREACH. 
 
 When Jesus was coining down from the mount, sur- 
 rounded yet by a great multitude, He was met by a 
 leper, who threw himself on his knees, and said : “Lord, 
 if Thou wilt, Thou canst make me clean/’ On hearing 
 this prayer our Lord extended His hand over him, and 
 answered : “ I will ; be thou clean.” And He dismissed 
 him, perfectly cured, recommending him at the same 
 time to show himself to the chief priest and pay him 
 the offering which the Mosaic Law ordained in 
 such cases for legal and medical fees. The Divine 
 Master, on His return to Capharnaum, lost no occasion 
 of instructing as many as approached Him. When He 
 was one time teaching inside a house, some men brought 
 a poor paralytic on a litter. The multitude gathered 
 around the Divine Pastor was so great that his bearers 
 knew not how to place the sick man before Jesus. With 
 that it struck them to get on the roof, and thence let 
 down the litter in front of our Lord. When J esus saw 
 the faith of these charitable Galileans, He exclaimed : 
 “ Be of good heart, son, thy sins are forgiven thee.” 
 Hearing this, the Scribes and Pharisees began to mur- 
 mur in their hearts : “ He blasphemetli. Who but God 
 can forgive sins ?” The Messias, who, as God, pene- 
 trated their most secret thoughts, publicly answered : 
 “ Why do you think evil in your hearts ? Whether is 
 
HISTORY OF THE HOLY FAMILY. 
 
 379 
 
 it easier to say, Thy sins are forgiven thee, or to say, 
 Arise and walk ? But that you may know that the Son 
 of Man hath power on earth to forgive sins (then said 
 He to the man sick of the palsy), Arise, take up thy 
 bed, and go into thy house.” And he arose, as the Lord 
 commanded, and taking up his bed went away, giving 
 glory to God, and the multitude, filled with astonish- 
 ment, glorified the Author of such wonders. 
 
 When Jesus was leaving that house He saw by the 
 way a publican (or tax gatherer), named Matthew, or 
 otherwise Levi, doing business at his table, and said to 
 him : “ Follow me.” And Matthew, rising up, and 
 
 leaving all, became one of the most faithful disciples of 
 Jesus Christ. 
 
 When the Pasch came round, the second which Jesus 
 celebrated during His public life, He went up to Jeru- 
 salem to comply with it. There was in this city a great 
 bath, called Probatica, around which there were always 
 a great number of sick, blind, lame, and paralysed, 
 waiting for the movement of the water ; for at certain 
 times the angel of the Lord descended and moved it, 
 and then the first who entered the bath was suddenly 
 cured. And there was among them a certain man who 
 had been languishing thirty- eight years. Jesus looked 
 on him with eyes of pity, and asked : “ Wilt thou be 
 made whole ?” The infirm man answered : “ Sir, I have 
 no man, when the water is troubled, to put me into the 
 pond.” Jesus then said : “ Arise, take up thy bed, and 
 walk.” And he was immediately cured. When the 
 Jews saw the man carrying his bed on the festival day, 
 they took it very ill ; but when they found that it was 
 Jesus who ordered him, they were transported with 
 rage, and resolved to make Him die as a breaker of the 
 law and a blasphemer, form defending Himself against 
 their accusations He had declared that He was the Son 
 of God. One would think that the very miracles of the 
 Messias, intended to enlighten and convince the blind 
 understandings of the Scribes, only served to fill them 
 
380 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 with malice and hatred. There was, consequently, a 
 continuous struggle between the infinite goodness of 
 Jesus and the perversity of the Jews, a struggle in 
 which they must die or conquer. 
 
 About this time He received a message from some 
 ancients, who besought Him to cure a servant of a 
 centurion, who had built a synagogue for them. 
 Thither went the Lord with them, and when He was 
 near the house the officer’s friends met Him, and said, 
 in his name : “ Lord, trouble not Thyself, for I am not 
 worthy that Thou shouldst enter under my roof, for 
 which cause neither did I think myself worthy to come 
 to Thee ; but say the word and my servant shall be 
 healed.” Withal the Centurion, who was watching, 
 seeing that Jesus still came towards the house and was 
 now near, went out to meet Him, and repeated the same 
 protest of his unworthiness to receive Him in his house, 
 and said that it was enough that he should open His 
 divine lips for his servant to be cured : “ For I am a 
 man subject to authority, having under me soldiers : and 
 I say to one, Go, and he goeth ; and to another, Come, 
 and he cometh ; and to my servant, Do this, and he doth 
 it.” By this He meant that the Saviour, being Lord of 
 the universe, the very elements themselves would obey 
 Him, like servants hanging on His lips. When Jesus 
 heard this, He turned to the crowds who followed Him, 
 and exclaimed: “Amen, I have not found so great 
 faith not even in Israel.” And immediately the Centu- 
 rion’s servant was healed. 
 
 From Capharnaum Jesus passed over to Haim, and 
 at the gates of the city He met a funeral. They were 
 going to bury the only son of a widow, who, weeping, 
 followed her child to the grave. The Father of Mercies 
 was moved to compassion, and said to the afflicted 
 mother: “Weep not.” He approached, touched the 
 bier, and those who carried it stopped. And He said : 
 “ Young man, I say to thee arise.” And the young 
 man arose and began to speak, and was restored to his 
 
HISTORY OF THE HOLY FAMILY. 
 
 381 
 
 mother. All were filled with fear, and they glorified 
 God for it. Jesus pursued his journey, and went to the 
 house of a Pharisee called Simon, who had invited Him 
 to dine. When at table they were engaged in pleasant 
 conversation, a woman presented herself, who cast her- 
 self at the feet of Jesus Christ, bathed them with her 
 tears, dried them with her hair, kissed them with ten- 
 derness, and anointed them with aromatic oils. The 
 Pharisee, who knew that woman’s life, was scandalised 
 at the Master’s condescension, and said within himself : 
 “ This man, if he were a prophet, would know surely 
 who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth 
 him, that she is a sinner.” Then theMessias questioned 
 the Pharisee thus : “ Simon, I have something to say to 
 thee.” “ Say it, Master,” said Simon. “ A certain cre- 
 ditor had two debtors, the one owed five hundred pence, 
 and the other fifty. And whereas they had not where- 
 with to pay, he forgave them both. Which, therefore, 
 of the two loveth him most ?’’ “I suppose,” said 
 Simon, “ he that to whom he forgave most.” 11 Thou 
 hast judged rightly,” said our Lord. And turning to 
 the woman, He said to Simon : “ Dost thou see this 
 woman ? I entered, into thy house, thou gavest me no 
 water for my feet ; but she with tears hath washed my 
 feet, and with her hairs hath wiped them. Thou gavest 
 me no kiss ; but she, since she came in, hath not ceased 
 to kiss my feet. My head with oil thou didst not 
 anoint ; but she with ointment hath anointed my feet. 
 Wherefore I say to thee : Many sins are forgiven her, 
 because she hath loved much. But to whom less is 
 forgiven, he loveth less.” Those who were at table with 
 Him, when they heard these expressions, began to say 
 within themselves : “ Who is this that forgiveth sins 
 also ?” And then Jesus, as if ratifying what He had 
 said, dismissed the woman, saying : “ Thy faith hath 
 made thee safe, go in peace.” 
 
 When He had visited almost all Galilee, the Saviour 
 returned to His ordinary residence in Capharnaum, 
 
382 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 where He was so pressed by the multitudes which 
 flocked from all parts, that He had scarcely time to 
 eat. On a certain occasion there was a still greater 
 crowd. A report began to spread that, according to 
 some, He had gone mad ; according to others, that He 
 was in an ecstasy. When these rumours reached the 
 ears of His relatives, they went in search of Jesus. 
 Mary, who, according to St. Epiphanius, though she 
 dwelt in Capharnaum, followed her Son in his principal 
 excursions, was also among the number of those who 
 sought Him. When told that His Mother and brethren 
 were inquiring for Him, extending His hand over His 
 disciples and hearers, He exclaimed : “ My Mother 
 and my brethren are they who hear the word of God, 
 and do it.” Afterwards one possessed of the devil, 
 both blind and dumb, was presented to Him, and 
 He cured him on the spot, at which the envious Pha- 
 risees began to suggest that He did these wonders 
 by the aid of Beelzebub, the prince of devils, and 
 asked Him for a new prodigy, which should leave no 
 doubt about His divinity, “if Satan,” He answered, 
 “ cast out Satan, he is divided against himself; and a 
 kingdom divided against itself shall be made desolate, 
 and every city or house divided against itself shall not 
 stand. And if I by Beelzebub cast out devils, by whom 
 do your children cast them out ? But if I by the Spirit' 
 of God cast out devils, then is the kingdom of God come 
 upon you.” Then He hurled just invectives against 
 those hypocrites, calling them a race of vipers, a per- 
 verse and adulterous generation, who seek a sign : 
 “ And a sign shall not be given it, but the sign of Jonas 
 the prophet ; for as Jonas was in the whale’s belly three 
 days and three nights, so shall the Son of Man be in the 
 heart of the earth three days and three nights ” That 
 is to say, that after being dead three days, they should see 
 Him arise glorious again as the climax of all His wonders. 
 
 After dinner He went out to the shore of the sea of 
 Tiberias, and was soon surrounded, not only by the 
 
HISTORY OF THE HOLY FAMILY. 
 
 383 
 
 grateful women whom He had freed from evil spirits, 
 Mary Magdalen, out of whom He had cast seven devils, 
 Johanna, the wife of Chusa, Susanna, and others, hut 
 also by a multitude of people desirous of hearing His 
 instructive parables. 
 
 At nightfall He embarked with His disciples in a 
 boat to pass over to Tiberias, on the other side of the 
 water. And as all was calm, He fell asleep in the after- 
 part of the vessel, on the cushion they had prepared 
 for Him. But, when least expected, a great storm 
 arose, and the boat was almost sinking ; and yet Jesus 
 slept on. The disciples were greatly alarmed, and ran 
 to Him, exclaiming : “ Master, doth it not concern Thee 
 that we perish ?” And, rising, He rebuked the wind, 
 and said to the sea: “ Peace, be still.” And suddenly 
 the wind ceased, and the sea was calm. And the crew, 
 filled with dread, said one to another: “Who is this 
 (thinkest thou) that both wind and sea obey Him ?” At 
 last they safely reach the shore of the Gerasens, where 
 He was met by a notorious man possessed by the devil, 
 or rather by a legion of infernal spirits. When these 
 saw Jesus, they began to cry out by the man’s mouth : 
 “ What have I to do with Thee, Jesus, Son of the most 
 High God ? I adjure Thee by God that thou torment 
 me not.” And there was in the neighbourhood a great 
 herd of swine feeding, and the devils, fearing to be 
 cast out, besought Jesus to allow them to enter these 
 unclean animals. The Lord gave them permission, and 
 immediately the herd, numbering about two thousand 
 rushed like mad things into the sea. The Gerasens, 
 fretting for their loss, and fearing perhaps a greater, 
 besought Jesus to depart from their territory. Jesus 
 did not want people against their will, and therefore 
 recrossed the sea. And when He had reached land, 
 Jairus, a prince of the' synagogue of Capharnaum, 
 prayed Him to come and cure his only daughter, twelve 
 years of age, who was dying. He willingly consented, 
 and while on the way, a poor woman who had been 
 
384 
 
 LIGHT FROM THE LOWLY. 
 
 suffering from a flux of blood for twelve years, and bad 
 spent her all on doctors, said to herself: “ If I shall 
 touch but his garments I shall be whole.” Animated 
 with this faith, she makes her way through the crowd, 
 she touches the hem of our Lord’s garment, and is im- 
 mediately cured. Soon after Jairas received the news 
 that his daughter had just died. Our Lord looked on 
 him with eyes of compassion, and said : “ Fear not, only 
 believe ” He entered the house of the dead girl with 
 only Peter, and James, and John, and the father and 
 mother of the child. And He said : “ The child is not 
 dead but sleepeth.” But the bystanders mocked Him, 
 for they knew well she was dead. Jesus, taking her 
 hand, exclaimed : “ Damsel, I say to thee, arise.” And 
 He told them to tell no one, but to get Him something 
 to eat, to their joyful astonishment. 
 
 Thence He returned to His own country, and on the 
 way two blind men cried out with a loud voice : “ Have 
 pity on us, Son of David.” In vain did He tell them 
 to keep their cure secret, for in their joy they published 
 it in all directions. And about the same time He freed 
 one possessed by the devil. On His return to Nazareth, 
 He again began to preach His heavenly doctrine to His 
 countrymen, who could not believe their ears, and again 
 asked one another : “Is not this the carpenter, the Son 
 of Mary, the brother of James and Jude. . . And 
 then He abandoned His native country, jjever more to 
 return to preach in it, thus confirming what He had 
 already said to them, that a prophet is little honoured 
 in his own country, and on account of their incredulity, 
 which He had reprehended on a former occasion, He 
 
 wrought not 
 
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