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,■*.

THE LIFE

OF'

St. Francis de Sales

ROBEKT ORNSBY, M.A.

P. J. Kenedy and Sons

PBINTKRS TO THB HOLY APOSTOLIC SBB

No. ^A BARCI.AY STRK«T, N. Y.

t ^

CONTENTS.

X* Kuly ttfc and •dnoillon of nrmeli de SaIm 1

IL Bit Tooatioii to the eocledutiod itate, ■ad fband»-

Uou of the Confraternity of the Holy Crow . 10

nL Hie miision in the Chftbhde; iU ewly difficnltiea . 17
IV. Onduel change in the itatr of affidn, and final

ooaTersionoftheChablaia 88

T Appointment of Francis de Sale* to the ooadjntor-

•hip of Genera; his Tisit to Rome . . 57

TI. Foundation of ** tho Holy Honse ;** Visit to Parie . 81
TH Franeb de Sales as Bishop of GenoTa . . 78

nn. Visit of Francis de Sales to Dijon ; his direction of

Jane Frances de Cbantal ... .81

IX. Oipudsation of the Order of the Visitation . 108

X Foundation of the Florimontane Academy; his Tre^

tises of The Iniroduetim and The Love tfOod 117
XL Vldt to Fluris with the Cardinal of Saroy; last yean

ofFranoiBdeSalAo lie

Xn. Death of IVanolad» Sales iif

XIZLCharaoterofStFffaabitdoSalsa . l«

'47/52

'it

PEEFACl.

QoD B«nr makei two tfaingi alik«. It ii «■■
of the pri?ilegei of Omnipotence to ihow thaty in
adhering to the laws which It hai Itielf created,
it it ttill those kiwi* Marter. We, on the other
handy mually play the part of a machine. We
can hat repeat ounelyef, and he the predie eopy-
isti of our own feehly-conceiTed and defecti?elj*
executed originab. We multiply repetitiona of
our worki with the lervile accuracy of a me-
chanical apparatua. We fint derise hy the aid
of the line, the rule, and the aquare i and then
we can but return again and again w our fint
pattern, ▼arying it only throuj^h infirmity, and
counting ourselTet moct sucoetsfiil when we have
reproduced it with a moft pamfiil geometric mi-
nutencM.

But He who created the world and the lawa
within whole limiti we toil ii ai infinitely laried
in the detaili of Hb worki ai thoie works them-
lelvei are infinite in number. The itara diifer
taa eae another in gloiy. Of the UMOwited

mMttofiflirm^BotwDnsalilnb laalltht
bewildflfiaf otjiiads of the \mwm of « fbi«it» orm
onrooaiM peiteptioni can dotoet loaio 4glU fi^
rbtkiiif in fomi. Ertrj fettura in natnio^ fron
•n Alpine pvadpiee to n eEyitaUiied fingmont, if
nnliko anj other. SuefaiithenlijMoftliewiidoBi
of God in the enation of the organiied uniTene.

The Mune myiterioni tariety ia found to pr»
fail, not only in onr own eountenaneea and figures,
in onr intelleeti and emotiona, aa we are by nature,
but in the moat perfect worka of DiTine Gh»ee»
It ia eurioua to think how different the "Sainti**
are from what they would haTo been if they had
been all faahiooed on a type invented by human
ingenuity. It makea one imile to think what
ringnlar phenomena would have been turned out
from a humanly-conducted laboratoiy, when con-
trasted with the actual Saints, such aa Almighty
God has Himself made them. In matters of right
and wrong, atrictly speaking, we have all of ui
been taught by Almighty God; and consequently
our h$mhid§al of a *' Saint** implies the presence
of all Tirtnea in the heroic degree. But when we
eome to the outward clothing which this heroic
sanctity ahould wear, it ia certain that if we had
the work to do, we ahould fiibricate Saints aftei
a fraUon wonderfully unlike that which haa of*

PBBFAOB. S

tiB beoi adopted by Eternal Wisdon . No donbt
we thould produce a good many varietiei, ac-
cording to our national and personal ideas of the
KmKoictiffa$6v,^^** the good, the beautiful, and the
«rue.** The Englishman's Saint would be different
from the Frenchman's, and the Frenchman's from
the German's or the Italian's ; and all these again
from the Negro's, or the Saint of the Japanese.

Still, it may be assumed as an undoubted
truth, that we are generally more or less sur-
prised to find that the emtemalt of sanctity are
so different from those which we should hare
anticipated. With all that we say — and believe
also— on the subject of " hidden Saints," and
of the essentially retiring and modest nature of
sanctity, there are few persons who do not ex-
pect that the heroic virtue of a real Saint should
show itself in some quiet way or other, so as
to be cognisable by an ordinary Christian of fair
good sense and piety. Still more do we expect
that Saints shall have nothing about them which,
as the saying is, shall ** run into us." We look
for iuch an absence of infirmities in those things
which are solely and entirely natural, that the
Saint may at once interest and please the Chris-
tian, and silence the sUly ill-nature of the un«
beli«Tar*

W1mb9 thfB» w« tan to ih« Mtiud lifM €f tb«
fldaliy it ii ftiiking to find how leldom they hk^^
hma nupeeted to be Sainti e?en by the general mk
of good Githolici, and ttill less by the common
erowd* Sonotimea their extraordinaiy gracei have
been known to ao few, that it may be aaid that they
pere almoit literally unknown. So far as the ex-
temali of life were concerned, they have been for
the moat part like other men. Orace left nature,
in all thingi but tin, pretty much aa it would have
been if they had been nothing more than sim-
ply good Christiana. And accordingly they hare
taried from one another in just the same varie^
which preTaib among those who are not Sainta.
Not only their circumstances, rank, and influence
have ^*jen very different in different cases, but
they haye been gifted with yery different degrees
of what we may call ** attractiveness,*' as other
persons so singularly differ in that peculiar gift.
Nor is it any disparagement to the perfection of
the work of God in them, that one Saint is of
such a character as to attach to his memory a fat
larger number of devout clients than can ever be
gained by another. Some men are made to bf
universal favourites in daily life, wherever they
go. Others, quite their equab, sometimes theii
wofmAang in eveiy important quality, compaita

ttfdy lUuid apart, mbefiriended tad aleaa* lUi
if a remit of that boundleii Tarietj whieh «iiali
in the natural eharacten which Oo'i haa gheii to
Of, following nil own impenetrable wiidom.

And 10 it ii with the Sainta. There ar» tboif
to whom interceiiion ia daily made bj tens ol
thousanda of Chriatiani ; while oihen are known
only by their plaee in the calendar* and are hoD
oofod by a derout mle rather than by the per*
■Qoal choice of the individual Chriitian. We all
hare onr " faTourite Sainta." It it often dificnlt
to lay why we prefer to haye reconne to one imtlMr
than to another, at it is hard to say why we enjoy
one man*s society, and care little for that of an*
other. But so it is, and so it will be as long aa
the world lasts, and both the Saints, and we who
honour them, are what we are.

The Samt whose life has suggested theit fa-
marks is perhaps — next, of course, to tha Qnaas
of Sainto— <A« "favourite Saint** of the whole
calendar, wherever his writings are known and
understood. There appears in the mind of St.
Frauds of Salea that union of sweetneia and
strength of manly power and feminine delieaey«
of profound knowledge and practical dexterity*
which constitute a chaiaeter farmed at once to
win and anbdne ounda of almost every typt aad

ill

■ I

«•

age. As tli0 me aiBiiiig flowen^ lo it he ameBf
Sainti. Frook the thorny, woody fibre of the
brier eomei forth that blossom whieh unites all
that can make a flower lovely and attraetlTe ; and
from the hot and Tehement natuxe of the yonng
SfaToyard came a spiritual bloom whose beauty
and fingiance were perfect in an extraordinary
degree. All things that oonunand respeet and
attract lore were found in Francis. Hic^ rank,
polish of manner, geniality of dispoaitioii, shrewd-
ness of head, Tivacity of imagination, a capacity
for profeond theological stodies, a rare felicity in
the use of langoage, a caplHiting grace of manner,
an almost unrivalled power as a director of souls,
aetiiity without bustle, mortification without sad-
ness,— «11 these things won him a reputation and a
bo^ of affectionate Mends while he lifed, and a
doiid of dienti since he died, whidk it would not
be easy to parallel in the case of any other of the
band of Saints. Few men, moreofer, have pos-
sessed such wisdom and candour in matters thec^
logical and controveniaL A lofer of gentle means
in an age of persecution { a hearty IVendunan
withoat Oallicaniim ; an Ultramontane witboat
ezi^pgeration ; a spiritoal guide who eoold eon-
luct souls with the referent delieaqr of a troe
%pid% and the piffd^f Anmimm «f a hmi d

liii

the world.~he «tm Um by hi, writing., to be
accepted as at once one of the safest, the most
satisfying, and the most profonnd teachers of that
wisdom which is revealed to aU the Saints; bnt
which it IS giTen to few to communicate with the
fiUness and beauty with which it ever flows frem
his lips;

J. M.

Pir

I v.

!:|

T. Francis db Salbi be-
longs to that class of Saints
the lustre of whose lineem
and whose conspicuous statioB
in the world, have coiro-
Bponded to their rank in tha
celestial kingdom. Scarcely any condition
of life could DO named that nas not affinded
the material of heroic sanctity. A labourer
like St. Isidore, a merchant uke St. Fnmds
of Assisi, a soldier like St. CamiUus of
LelliSy a seryant-girl like St Zita, a shep-
herdess like the Blessed Germaine Gounn,
furnish, in the more ordinary, or in ti^
humblest walks of life, examples of tha
same holiness which, in St. Henry or St. Louis, adoned
the crown of empire or royalty. The Saint of whese
life we are about to giye a sketch was not indeed, of
soeh exalted rank as these last; stUl his oirth plaoed

him in the highest class of sodety. Ho wm the

MB of one d: the primripd notilM of fkmj,- Johi

ii I

r ■

1 fv. rmuien di tALu.

lad of idM» of Boifj, of BaUejson, and of Vill^

rogot, wuUj teylMi ^ J u^e seoond of those titlei. Hk

BBoAory nwioe% dauf^hter of Mdohior do Syonna^

Lord of La TbiuUe anil of Valli^res, came of no leM

Boblo itook. Franois was bom at their anoestni]

easde of Sales (a magnificent seat near Anneo^, which

was afterwards destroyed by order of Louis XIIL

during his war with Saroj), on Ang. 21, 1667. His

triogiaphers gira some onrious anecdotes of his childish

fife^ deriTed firom his nnrse, a good creature, who from

tho first beUered she had charp^ of a saint. These

itoiieB are too minute for an outhne like this ; but the j

ahow the genns of tliat sweet and beautifiil character

whieh afterwards made his name, as it were, peHume

the whole Ohnroh with its fragrance. Even before

Ranois ooold speak his attendants found that he was

nerer so hsppj as wnen they carried him into a church.

Like most gnat and holy men, he had the blessing of

having an excellent mother, who took care that the

firandations of piety were wdl laid in his earliest years.

flis fether appears to have been a good specimen of

the nobleman of the old school; honourable, sinffle-

mindedy and ohiTalrous, and at the same time full of

dkpaity and self-respect. He had a numerous family,

all of them of lofty principle and interesting character.

Oor Saint was the ddest son; the second ana third were

GkJoysLord of Boisy, and Louis Lord of LaThuille; the

finrner of whom was fiunous for his skill in reconoilmff

thoM at Tarianoe, — a quality which, in those trouoled

times^ he was often called on to exercise. Louis also

liTod a holy life in the world, and was the &ther of

Charles Angoste, the pious biographer of the Saint, and

his seoond successor in the see of Geneva. Next came

John Franois, who was his vicar-general, coadjutor, and

immediate suooeuor. The fifth brother was Benuurd

(ihero was an ancient affinity between the house of

8a]« and that of the Saint of that name) Baron of

numns, who married a daughter of St. Jane Franoes

d« Ohankiit ^"^ ^^ ^'"^ ^ »^ ^"'^J H^ Jaui% tha

II-

1. 1.]

0T. wmknen »■ lAiak

\ ■

tittk brothmr, a kmffht of the Ordor of St Joha of /•>
nualem, is describea as a gallant caraliflr of tho olda
dajB. There were two sisters: Gaspardei married te
the Lord of Comilloiiy a worthy lady, who followed the
noble ezaSnples set by her brotners; toad ** Mademoisdk
Jeanne/* ^o died very young, afW affording greal
promise from her innocent and Tirtaooj character.
Altogether it was a noble household, fit to be headed
by a saint

Francis was sent in early childhood to the ooDem
of La Roche, and afterwardls to that of Anneoj. fie
was from the first marked out among his youn^ eomf
panions for his superior manliness and grayity of d^
meanour. Whilst the rest rambled about in iohoonMy
fi»hioc, hatless and unbuttoned, amnm'Tig themselyei
with boyish pursuits, he was always carerally dressed;
and, instead of joining in their amusements, would stay
at home and read to the old lady at whose house lie
boarded. He was, howeyer, well trained in all the ac-
complishments wluch in those days were oonsidered
essential to the rank of a young noble ; he was taught
to dance, to fence, and to ride; and these ezerdsei he
learnt wall, being always particularly noticed for that
flracefril, dignifiea, and easy deportment, which is sel-
dom attained without such traming in early lift. He
was five years at the college of iumeey, and leained
there the Latin lang^a^e, and ** made notable prog w ui
In the humanities;" by which phrase, now getting
antiquated, the old school meant that general euhiya-
tion in polite literature which informed and moulded
the mind so as to be well furnished with the habits
acd ideas peculiarly belonginsr to ''the ioholar and the

Ctleman.'* He was a nara itodent, an early riser;
moderate in sitting up at ni^|ht At the age of
eleyen he entreated permission of hu fiither to take the
tonsure, haying at that early age deekied to adopt the
ecclesiastical life. M. de Boisy by no meani deiiied
this, for his ambition was that his ddest son fhoaU
■ake a great figure in the werid; Iwt with thai iorl el

r I

k §T. FmAVOIf »■ SALM.

wmgoiMnt which men of great experience often pre-
Sir to fiolent measures, he permitted him to do as he
^eased. The <dd lord knew that the tonsure did not
bind his son finally to become an ecclesiastic ; and de-
pended on the changes a young man's mind goes
through, to dissipate this predilection. In most cases
hii sagaoitT would not hare been at ^ult: but he did
not as yet Imow that his son was a saint. The youths
Francis receiyed the tonsure in Sept. 1578. To show
haw the simplert temptations sometimes affect heroic
mindsy we may mention that the youthful Saint felt a
Pjanff of extreme repugnance when his long and beau-
tiful hair was about to be cut off. He generously
made ^e sacrifice; but did not entirely regain his
tranquHlitr till it was orer.

y In 1680 he was sent to pursue his studies in the
Unitenity of Paris. His fattier had intended to send
him to the coU^pe of Nararre, which, out of the many
'b that £unous uniTersity, was the chief resort of the
ronng noblesse of Sayoy ; but at the earnest entreaty
of Francis, the college of the Jesuits was fixed upon for
lum. Here he remained five years, making great ao-
quisitionB in the yarious branches ot the learned educa-
tion of the age. He studied Greek under the Pdre
Sirmond, whose vast eruditi(m in ecclesiastical anti-
quity was evinced by many great works; theology
under Jolm Francis Snares, aouotless an accomplished
teacher, thoi^h not to be confounded with the more fa-
mous theologian of that name. Another of his theolo-
gical masters was Dandini, one of the greatest Aristo-
telians of the day, who was afterwaras sent out as
Apostolic Nuncio to the Maronites of Mount Libanus.
Francis was most diligent in taking notes of the lec-
tures which he attended ; and his manuscripts, which
still remain, are a curiosity for their elegance and pre-
cision. ** From the first word to the last," says his
most recent biographer, ** eyery thing in them is of an
czqniaite neatnawy azoeedingly carenil, perfectly dia-
tinol tad Msy t» imdf proyioad one bas aoqaM •

*■.:

em, I.] IT. FmAHou »■ iaub. I

•omplete aoqnaintanoe and a tort of haMtnatUR witk
the abbreviations used in it. All the margina are oi>>
▼ered with notices of the divisions and subdiTinoni,
with the various heads of proof, and form, as it were^
an analysis of the whole work; finally, one reoogniaei
tliroughout not only the orderly mind which doei
every thing well, but also the logical mind which clas-
sifies its ideas, and furnishes itself with a clear and pre-
cise account of them." One study, unusual in that age^
to which he addicted himself, was tJie Hebrew language^
which he learned imder a celebrated teacher of the day,
Genebrard, who afterwards became Archbishop of Aix.
His scriptural studies were very profound, as we find
continually exemplified in his tiveological treatises,
where he frequently illustrates the meaning of texts
oy reference to the Septuagint. His private tutor fm
this period, and indeed for the rest of his education
also, was the Abb6 DSage, a good man, but addicted
to hold the reins of discipline rather tightly; which
brings out some amusing scenes, where his ill>temper.
and yet the affectionate love with which he regarded
his charge, contrasts with the heroic humili^ of the
young noble. At Paris one of the most remarkable and
^tical events of his life took place, a terrible tempta-
don to despair, which came on suddenly and lasted for
a consideraole time, but from which he was ri4eased in
a wonuerful manner. He was about the age of seven-
teen when the idea took possession of his mind that he
was not in a state of grace, and that consequently there
was a frightful probability of his being etemallT lost
His soul was overwhelmed with fear, which he m vain
tried to reason away. When he represented to himself
tHe promises of Almighty God to nelp those who call
upon Him, the consciousness of his own weakness came
on to stifle the rising hope. He might fall into mortal
sin ; feeble as he was, it seemed to him certain he would
do so if a dangerous occasion occurred. The g^ oi
hell thus seemM to open before him at the very tima
^Im wiroely a delibemta Ttnial sn had ftaioM

!■:,

I iP

•T. VEAllOll DB IA:

Tei ftt the reiy time he waa going through
this airfbl oooflioty he gaye the moet heautifu anawen
to the tamptetiona which assailed him. <<OLord/*he
flriedy <<if 1 am not to see Thee, let my pain at least
hafo this asaoMpement, — ^permit me not ever to curse
or blaapheme Thee. Love, Charity, Beauty, to
whom I have TOwed all my affections, am I never, then,
to enjoy Thy delights? am I never, then, to be ine-
briated with the abundance of the goods of Thy house '*
Am I never, then, to pass to the place of tliat ador-
able tabernacle where my God dweUs ? Virgin all-
lovinir, Ihou whose charms cannot rejoice the regions
of heU, am I neven then, to see thee in the kingdom of
thy Son ? Beautiful as the moon, shining like the sun,
am I never to share in the immense benefit of the Re-
iurreotion ? But did not my sweet Jesus die for me, as
well as for the rest? Ah, be it as it may. Lord, if I
cannot love Thee in the next life, since no one praises
Thee in hell, may I at least profit by all the moments
of my short existence here to love tiieer* He seems,
f it were possible, to have suffered the very agonies
of hdl, without the loss of the love of God. It seems
as though an angel had caught him by the hau*, and
held him over the very flames of that dark lake of end-
less soiTow. Considering what he was to become in
after-life, the guide and comforter of such a multitude
of minds, in every variety of spiritual suffering, it was
aeoeasary, in order to ^ve him the means for such uni-
versal sympathy, far lumself to have suffered the same.
Without supernatural means, indeed, a person of an-

SiUc innocence l&e Francis could not have sounded
ose unusual depths of human agony. The tempta-
tions, as we have said, lasted for a long time, not less
than six weeks ; during which he was hardly able to
eat, or drink, or sleep. He lost his colour and his
strength; he went about haggard and trembling, like
cna whose whole energies were breaking uu. Indeed,
it aftj be said that ror him to hmve aumved such •
kMiflia IwuiiMimi at all, of itMilf ahowad thst tha la

••J

■T. FRANOIS DB MALI

pression wu sBpematand. During aU thif Unm kl
aever gave np any of his usual exercises of dflVQtiM|
but) on the contrary, increased them consideraUy, and
did his utmost to strongmen his soul bj recaUinff aQ
the yanous consolatory passages from Holy Writ. Tnart
still exists a paper written b^ him, in which he veoi^-
tulates these m a most touching nuumer. It is too long
to be inserted here at length: but a few santenow from
the commencement of it will show what a dep*h both
of intellect and of holiness there must have bee» in ihii
youth of seventeen. '' Prostrated at the feet of St
Augustine and St Thomas, prepared to be ignonuit (d
all things, that I may know Hmi Who ia the Wisdom
, of the rather, Cluist crucified; although I dopU boI
that the things which I have written an true, bdoania
I see nothing that can cause a doabt of thair iolid
truth; yet as I see not all thingi| and lo Uddsa a
mystery is too bright to be lodiua at fixedly by my
dim eyes ; if hereSfter tha oontraiT shoaUT appeafc
which I suppose never will ba— yea, u, wbkk tha Lad
Jesus forbid^ I knew that I were daomad by that will
which Thomas declares to be in God, that Ha adgkl
show His justice^ — ^I, wilhngly oonfiNmdedy and loalvg
up to the Judge most high, would my with tha Ao-
phetyShallnotmysoulbesabjeettoGod? Ym,¥tiam,
for so it hath seemed good m Thy liglit; lliy win ba
done. And this, in the bitteniem of mj tmdf I wodd
say so often, till God, changing my lite and Hia aan-
tence. would answer me : Be confidant^ mj ion; I dama
not the death of the wicked, but father vbai ha lifa .
... thou shalt not go down into hall; but thon shah
go up to the mountain of the Lord, and to ihb hoom of
the God of Jacob." The temptatioiL howafmy thowb
so ffenerously combated, remained ror weekly and ma
health began to fail under it He beoama wwtad ta a
skeleton, and moved about like a ^hoat; ao tlwl all Ua
firiends became alarmed about hmi. At langth tUi
great cross disappeared as raddnly ja it aamau Hia
ana day entarea tha ehuiah ol 8t ' • - -

[I I'

1'!

tiMi knflh dawn btfora an imaffe of the Blened TirgJa.
Hui eje was eMght bj a ^blBt on the waUi on wmeh
waa imaribed the fiunoiu praj^er of St Bernard, the
•fteaoj of wliioh has been Terified bj snob oonnieu
naoei: '' BMnember, most holy Yinpn Maiy.**
Ha repeated it with great emotion; and implored^
tbrongn the interoeesion of Maiy, that it might please
Qod to restore his peace of mind. He also made a
▼oir of perjietiial enastity ; and promised to recite the
ehaplet of six decades amy in memory of it All at
once be felt his sonl in tranooillity. The dark thoughts
which had Imng OTer him for so many weeks, seemed
to come off firom his mind like the scales from a leper
when miraeolooaly cleansed. He came ont firom the
ehnrob in that sweet and pofomid calmness of mind
which he ne^er afterwards lost He fulfilled his reso*
Intion of redting the ohaplet daily, and also added to it
the Memarare, which he recommended to all his peni-
tents.

After having spent Are years at Paris with great
pofity he returned home for a short visit His nther
then decided on sending him to finish his education at
*hB UnirerBity of Padua, the legal schools of which at
that time had the highest reputation throughout Europe.
Thither he arriyed at the Deginnint jf me yenr 1587,
and recommenced his studies under the care oi professors
of gnat celebrity, the principal of whom was Guide
PanairDolo, more generally known under the name of
Pandroins, whose fame is eyen yet not foigotten by
students ot the dtil law, on which he wrote some very
elab(»«te works. His spiritual director was n man not
1e« remarkable, the Jesuit Posseyinus, who had retired
to Padua afiber a great career in ecclesiastical diplomacy.
He had been apostolic nundo in Sweden, where he suc-
ceeded in reconciling John III. to the Catholic Church;
and had afterwards carried on important negotiations
on behalf of the Holy See in Poland and Russia. His
tnfiniiwe bad a largo share in the formation of the
•f Sraada da Salaam It was he who, afi«

#■• I«] ST. FBAMOU Dl SALM. f

long dflUbentions and man j praTen, finallj dedded
that his holy disciple ought to aaoot the ecolesiastioBl
career in preference to the bar, whicn his father wished
for him. He taught him the Jesuit method of medita*
tion, fresh from the traditions of the great St. Ignatius.
He read with him the saored Scriptures, being perhaps
the first exegetical divine of that age ; and undor his
instruction Francis learned above all to prize those three
great authors, who throughout life were the chief sources
of his learning, St Thomas, St. Bonaventure, and Oar-
dinal Bellarmme.

At the University of Padua, his demeanour, of
which we have comparativelv aoundant records, was
inch as to furnish quite an iaeal for the Catholic stu-
dent to aim at. The place was one of immense tempta-
lons : the license of tne medisBval universities still pre>
i^ed there, and virtue was in great danger. On two
jGcasions he was brought into tne very fivnace of trial
|l party of his fellow-students resolved to put his purity
CO the test, and made a regular conspiracy for this
wicked purpose; taking him to what they pretended
was the nouse of a newly-arrived professor oi jurispru-
dence, where they had engaged a courtesan to allure
him to sin. They introduced this miserable woman to
him as if she were a lady of the family, and then left
the room on one excuse or other. Presenuy she changed
her manner, and attempted to entice him by immoaest
gestures. The moment he perceived her real character,
he rushed out of the room, spitting in her fieuse when
she attempted to detain him. Thus the temptation
which these instruments of Satan had prepared to de-
stroy his soul, only redounded to his glory, and covered
them with shame. On another occasion, whilst at
Padua, a lady of the loftiest rank of the nobility con-
eeived a violent passion for him, and sought to lead hin
astray from the paths of virtue, bribing one of his fel
low-students to try to further her wicked designs by
his persuasions. The holv yonth treated the propoid
wiih honor, aharply rebdnd tbs htm mmmnga, tai

««Urad him oat of his pesenoe. The instantvMoii
^ignitf of hoUiMW wi^ wnioh he repelled these tempte-
tioofy ihowed what a treasure of grace he had acqiured
tt that early and oritioal age.

Whilst at Padua he made a plan of life for himself,
whieh oontains many remarkable points, and is well
worth the itody of everr young' man engaged in the
ioad em i e oaroer. It is nardly necessary to say, that
vsgnlaiil^ in meditation and m hearing the holy Mass
are the leading rules which he adopts. The chief
biographical interest which attaches to tnem is to observe
at what an early period he had developed in his mind
the ipiritiial method which pervades the IntrodueHon
to a Dewmt ]Afe» He lays ^at stress on what he
ealls "theeieroise of preparation." His words are:
*' I will always give the preference above every thing
else to the exercise oi preparatumy and I will perform
H once at least in the day, viz. in the morning." He
divides it into five parts : the invocation of the Divine
help; the imagination or anticipation of what he has to
do; the arrangement of it; ^.*:e making a resolution of
not offending God; and finally, the recommendation of
his afhirs to the Divine goodness. On the second head
he says : '' I will simply think of all those things which
may occur to me; of the companjr in which I may be
oUiged to remain ; of the affairs which may arise ; of the
places in which I must be; of the occasions which may
4i;mpen to take me off my guard; and thus, by the
help of the Lord, J will meet difficulties wisely and
prudently." Then as to the arrangement of Lis ^ ( tions .
" I will consider and diligently inquire what aretbe li^'st
means of avoiding falls; I will see what it is ' \ i' 7'
to do, in what order I must proceed in this or tnat aiiair;
what X ought to say in society. I will decide as to my
dress aad demeanour, and determine what I must seek
and win;^^ T must avoid." The rules, which are in Latin,
are sriMet;xi?.es clngularly expressed. Thus the passa^
where ^e ih^v^ given the word *^ society" is, *^quid t%
9Qmmhtilim m$t§ A^^ktm»** InFnnoii*sowniiNr«neb

••1

•V. WmAMOW D* SAJ.]

\ \

\Hi§j^d§e0f%t$JedirmmemMfagnisJ* Medi-
Mob he oaUs, bj a highljrefinea ififMiaphory "th« sleep of
tiie ■ool,'* beoAiue it refreshes the mind a» rest does ths
body ; tnd again, as ia bodily sleep the operatiooi of the
Mdj do not act oejoAd themselves, but aro restrained
wiibin ^6 limits of the body, so, says the voutlifiil saint,
** I will keep fdl my spiritual faculties witliin the limits
rf ^>h« spirit." This is a passage full of the most sug-
^-aftiTe wisdom, and containing one of the choicest rules
m meditation, inoulcatinff that drawing-oif the minu
fiom thmffs of sense wmch St. Catharine of Sienna
aalled the ouilding of a cell within her heart; and which
another holy person, D. Leonardo Fattore, signified by
thb expression, ''the land of faith." ''The land of
ftdth*' was a certain state of the soul, calm, equable and
penetrated with the conviction of the truths of religion,
m which he placed it occasionally when in the midst
of the business and trials of life. To return, however,
to IVancis. If he cannot find time at the usual hovtr
for this " most vigilant sleep of the soul," he resolves
to deprive himself of a portion of his bodily sleep in
order to it, either by remaining awake after ne goes to
bed, or rousing himself after his first sleep, or rising
earlier than usual. He provides beautiful thoughts
far himself firom the sacred Scriptures if he chances to
wake during the night : " I will rouse my heart with
the words : Medid node clamor factua est : Ecce
tponaua vmUt, exite obviam ei; 'At midnight there
was a cry made : Behold the Bridegroom cometh, go
ye forth to meet Him.' Then, from the consideratioo
of the darkness outside of mo, passing on to the inward
darkness of my soul and of all sinners, thus I will pray
daring the nignt : llluminare his qui in tenebrisy &q. ;
'To enliffhten them that sit in darkness and in the sha-
dow of iwath, to direct our feet into the way of peace.* "
He adds: " But since nightly terrors sometimes hinder
the note of inch devotion, if I chance to be seized with
than, I wiU d^ver myself fum them by thinldnpp
9imj •Dfal»giiaidiao, Mymg, Dominut a dtxtrii mmt

•T. rRAMOU DB 8ALK1.

ui, n$ iommavmr; which some doctors hare inter-
preted of the angel-guardiaii.'' We may illustrate this
eorions passage from a letter of his, in which he says
to the religious sister to whom he writes : ** The}
tell me, my very dear daughter, that you are airaid
of ffhosts. The supreme Spirit of our God is ever*
whL, without whose will aiid permission no spirit stirs.
He who fears that Divine Spint ought to fear no other
spirit. L when I was young, was touched hy this fan*
tasT ; and to rid myself of it, I forced myseUf, little by
little, to go alone, my heart armed with confidence in
God, into places where my imagination threatened me
with fear; and at last I strenfifthened myself so, that
the darknesses and solitude of the night are a delight
to me, because of that omnipresence of God which one
enjoys more at will in that solitude. The good angels
are around you like a company of soldiers on watch.
This assurance will be acquired oy degrees, as the grace
of God shall grow in YOU." (X«t^ 407.)

The subjects whicn he marks down tor meditation,
though not differing from those to be found in ordinary
books (which, inde^, have ever since his time been mucn
coloured by his writings)^ are expressed in a highly ori-
ginal manner. Thus he resolves, when he has an oppor-
tune time for this *' holy quiet,'' to recal the pious emo-
tions, longings, desires, resolutions, sweetnesses, and
inspirations, which he has formerly received from the
Divine Majesty; and also to call to mind how ^at hit
obligation is to Almi&^hty God, " in that in His mercy
He nas at times weakened my senses by some diseasei
and infirmities, which have been of no little advantage to
me." There is also a short and admirable reflection on
the excellence of Christian virtue, " which sanctifies a
man, which chang-es him into an angel, which makes him
a Uttle God (deulujn), which in this life confers paradise
on him." Lastly are some w mderfrd thoughts on the at-
tributes of God. " I wiU contomplato," he says, ** the in-
finite wisdom, omnipotence, and inoomproheosible good*
MM of God; bntl willfpMuIljaimtttthiiyluiwthMv

«-J

fr. VEAVCIl Bl MALI

•zoaUent attaribates shine forth in the sacred mjstenflt
of the life, death, and passion of our Lord Jesus Christ ,
in the most eminent holiness of our Lady, Blessed
Harj; and in the imitablo perfections of tne faithfai
servants of God. Passing from hence to the emnjrean
heaven, I will mai-vel at the glory of paradise, tne un-
faiUnff felicity of the angelic spirits and of the souls of
the blessed; and how the most august Trinity, in thf
eternal rewards wherewith It remunerates this blessed
multitude, shows Itself powerfii], wise, and good."

There is also a set ot rules for his conduct in society,
so highly curious and interesting, that v shall give
them almost at full length. They are wi en in sin-
gxdar and rather difficult Latin, of which tiie following
seems to be the result, expressed in the language of the
present a^e and in the third person, but, with that limi-
tation, acmering as closely as possible to the phraseology
of the writer :

1. He first distinguishes between general society
{congrewus) and intimate friendship (consuetudo). In
the foimer, we see people only for a short time, and
without any particular aemotistrations of affection ; in
the latter, we often meet, we show familiarity, entertain
affection, and visit our chosen friends, in order to live
in a praisewoithy manner, and mutually advise with
each other.

3. He resolves never to despise, or to give indi
cations that he absolutely avoids the SDciety of any one
whomsoever ; for this gives one the character of being
proud, high, severe, arrogant, censorious, ambitious,
and excessive in the expression of these feehngs. In
society, he resolves t« be very carefid not to appear as
the "great ally" of any one (ne cum aHqtio sociiim
Maam)f not even witli his most intimate friends, if any
cnance to be present; for this would smack of levilTf tt
those who observe it. He will not allow himself ixk any
mipropriety of 6]>eech or action, lest, by too ready €a-
milianty, he get the character of Jbeing impertment.
4boy« aU, he resolves to avoid saying biting, pnngemt.

V I

II fT. nUHOIf SB lALHi

«r lowitie thingB against people; for it it mere itupi
jitj to think we oan laugh at people who have no re»
wm for bearing with ns, and yet not incur their hatred.
He reeolvei to pay every one the honour due to him, to
ohsenre modetty, to speak little and well, tlmt the com-
pany may retire rather with a desire to have more of
nis society than &tigned with it. If the meeting is
but momentary, and he has hardly time to say more
than ** How do you do?" (^uamvis a salutaHone non
aiiud dieerem,) he will do so iu a hberal, polite, and
well-rMnplated manner, neither austere nor gloomy.

8. Then, as to his intimate friends, thrae shall be
fenff qoody and hmomdble (because it is extremdy
difficult to succeed with many, or to avoid being oor^
mpted by associating with the bad, or to be honoured
except by the honourable). The grand precept he re-
solves to observe, both as to ^neral society and inti-
mate friendship, is this : Amtcu* omnilmsy fam^iarit
paueit. Judgment and prudence is every where needed.
There is no rule without an exception, but that one rule
which is the foundation of all the rest : Ifihil contra
Deum, With his intimate friends he resolves to be
modest without impertinence, easy without austerity,
fir eet without affectotion, pliable without contradiction
(unless there be good reason for it), and cordial without
dissimulation n)ecause men like to know those with
whom they act). But he wih open himself more or less
to different friends, according to the degree of intimacy
which exists between them. ''There are melancholy
persons, who are delighted when any one reveals to
them his defects ; but from such characters one ought
rather to hide oneself; for their imagination being strong,
they will philosophise for ten years or more on the most
trimi^ imperfection. Further, why reveal imperfect
tions f are they not visible enough of themselves ? B j
no means, therefore, is it expedient to make them mam-
feat; but it is good to confess them.'* He thua regu-
lates hii demeanour with reffard to these three cilaisM,
ijbt bufmiamt, the libanl or fntknai^f tad tha

I. L]

fT. VmANCIf ]>■ lALll.

vdaneholT : ''To the impertment I will absolutely
aide myself. To the liberal, if only they fear God, I
riU absolutely reveal myself, and speak to tnem with
•a open heart. To the melancholy I will merely show
myself, as the proverb has it, exjeneitrd, from behind
Uw latriee ; that is, I will partly open myself to tliem
(because such people have a great curiosity to see mto
the hearts of men, and where they see one too much
restrained, they are suddenly suspicious); and I will
partly conceal myself (because sucn persons are accus-
omed too closely to watch and philosophise on the cha-
ftoters of those who associate with them)."

4. As he finds himself, for the most part, obliged
to meet persons of very various ranks, he wishes to ad-
nut his manners accordingly. To his superiors in age,
profession, or authority, he resolves to show an ex-
quisitely pdiished demeanour (nonnisi exquisitum oS'
tendenavm e»t)\ to his equals, ^ood manners; and a
sertain indifiference towards his mferiors. The reason
he gives for this distinction is, that great and wise per-
ions are fond of thst exquisite polish which he resolves
o use towards the first class, whilst the second would
July think it afifec ation, and the third a disapeeable
rravity. If he fnds himself brought into mtimate
nendship with tht great, he will then be particularly
jtizioQS (for tbr/ may be compared to fire, a good
hinff to approa^ii sometimes, but not to approach too
jearly). Th^.efore, in their presence, he will show
treat modesty, tempered with an honourable freedom
(because tb4 great luce to be loved and to be respected;
and love eauees freedom, and modesty respect). It is
therefore arood to use a little freedom in the society of
the great, out not so as to omit respect; and the respect
must be greater than the freedom. Amongst equals,
freedom and respect must be equal ; towards inferiors,
freedom must be greater than respect; but the oon-
traiT must be observed with ^reat and superior persons.

Such were the wise maxims which this youth of
flf htetB «r trmtj laid dowa for hii oonduot in th*

y'l

trr, vmxdom »m li iia.

I i-

fi -

i k

world. Not graater iiuiffht into the human heart ii
difplajad in an assay of Lord Bacon's, or a chapter of
the rhetoric of Aristotle; no^^ more refined or subtle ap-
preciation of society ia to he found m Chesterfield o**
La Bniydre. People are too apt to imagine that this
acuteness and pohsh cannot be conjoined with devu-
tion or simplicity. They should study the character of
Francis, who in these rf^solutions shows how completely
the true Cathciic, nay even the heroic and saintly de-
▼otee, may more than rival the comtier and the states-
man in good breeding and the most fin/jshed politeness.
These mftTima of Francis de Sales became known to his
firienda in the university, and they obtained copies of
them, in order to guide tiieir own manners on the pat-
tern of his.

Whilst at Padua, he was attacked with a violent
hftr, which brought him to the ?)rink of the grave,
throuffhout which illness he showed ohe most heroic re-
funation. One very singular instance is recorded of
hia charity on this oo/asion. Wlien asked by his tutor
what were his wishes with regard to his ^neral, he re-
plied, that he had only one request to make, which was,
that his body might be given to the medical students
for dissection. When the Abbd D^age exclaimed in
horro? at this proposal, the holy youth replied, that he
would feel it a great consolation to think that, having
been so useless during life, he should at least be of
some service after he was dead, by supplying the medical
students with a subject not purchased at the cost cf quar-
rels and murder. The fact was, that in the University of
Padua the most terrible scenes used to occur in conse-
quence of this difficulty. The medical students, in their
eagerness to obtain subjects for dissection, used to rifle
the churchyards; the townsmen rushed, with arms in
their hands, to prevent this, and sanguinary conflicts &ni
the bitterest feelings were the results. There was, there-
fore, real wisdom in this proposal, which at first might
hare been thought the vaen extravagance of delurium.
Bt WM pnfteti^ Mriow i» 16 ; aid ua norifioe wooii

ea.!.]

•T. FEA Vm Bl lALl

|irolmbI J htT« done mucb to brings aboat fomo bettor r»*
giilation : however, it was not needed ; for he soon after
recovered, almost miraculously, at the moment when ha
was thought to be in the very af^onies of death. Ha
oompletea his education at Padua with eztraordinarj
distinction : and the ceremony of conferrinj^ on him the
dep'ee of doctor of laws was celebrated with the moit
unusual pom)), and in a manner ^vhich showed that ha
was looked ui>on as the very brijiflitest ornament of tht
university, it tuok place on September 5, 1591, when
Francis was twenty-foiu* years of aee. Forty-eig^ht
doctors assembled on the occasion ; and Ptmcirolus ure-
sided and conducted the examination. The candiaata
answered in the most brilUant manner ; after which Pan*
cirolus addressed him in a s])eech, in which he compli*
mented him in the highest terms on his admirable
career, alluding not only to his learning, but to tha
astonishing example of purity, goodness, and charity
which he bad alforded to the university. In the midft
of a luxurious city he had preserved himself unstained ;
like the fountain of Arethusa in the old Grecian fahla,
which mingled its waters with the sea without contract-
ing aught of their bitterness. ^ Francis de Sales rephed
in an elegant oration, m which, after alluding to tha
benefits he had derived from his studies in the Univefi-
sity of Paris, — where, he said, *' the very roofs and wallf
seemed to speak philoso})hy,'* — he expressed his deep
sense of the ouligntion he was under to the University of
Padua for the legal wisdom which its schools alforaed,
mentioning three professors to whom he was in par*
ticular indebted, Pancirolus, Menochius, and Matnea*
ceus. He concluded ))y rendenng thanks to Jesus
Christ, to our Blessed Lady, to his angel-^iardian,
and to his holy patron, St. Francis of Assisi, — eujut
nomine (said he) vocnri plvrimum deleetor. He then
received from Pancirolus the doctor's cap and ring,
amidst the applauses of all present ; and was conducted
to his house by the entire assembly, the city itealf r»>
Nudng it ha paiMd b J. Tha effect which bin ohtiMl^v

i i

■m tr. FBAHOn dm iALM^

•foi St «nii Terf earlj a^, prxxliioed upon all wlio null
Urn, ii one of the most sinmilar proofs of his ^reatneM.
We read that there was sudi a charm ahout his appear*
tnoe, something so sweet and noble, that people used
to watch in the street for an opportunity to see him ai
he passed by. The greatest things were expected from
him eveu at the very earliest stage of his career.

Heqditted Padua towards the end of the year; and,
preyious to returning home, he made the pilgrimage
to Rome and Lcititto, visiting also Venice, Milan, and
•ther citiM of particular interest in the north of Italy.
At Rome he fed his devotion with continual visits to
die varioiks sanctuaries and relics of primitive antiquity.
A. long li^t is given by his earliest biographer of the
ohurcheis &nd other places which he r'jsited with most
devotion. These were the Coliseum, and the churchei
of SS. Peter and Paul, St Mary Major's, Santa Groce,
and SS. Sebastian and Laurence, every whera honour-
mg the holy relics which were p.«eseiTed in these placet
resfiectively. He also thoroughly inspected all tne re-
mains of Roman ^prandeur in the ISterral City ; the chief
imnression he derived from w'lioh was, the transitorineas
ana emptiness of earthly greatness, and its intrinsie
weakness as opposed to the dominion of the Church
which has overtnrown it. Wliilst at Rome he had a
remarkable escape : he had been obliged to leave the
lodgings he had taken, in consequence of the arrival of
some noblemen of high rank, to whnm the landlord was
tempted to give the preference ; the very next night,
the nouse and all who were in it were swept away by a
sudden inundation of the Tiber. At Loretto his devo-
tion was extraordinary ; and the Abb6 DSage, who saw
him whilst he was praying in the Holy House, was so'
struck with his demeanour and appearance, that ever
after he regarded him with a degieo of reverence which
M)proached to veneration : his face appc<v od actually in-
named, and to dart out rays of Hght like a star. The
same phenomenon appears more than once in his subae*
fMBt biftoiy. fVomIiQrttto]Mwiiilt«AJMoa%ir]Mn

'■ \

•T. f BANOIf DB lALn^

b« Ibumd a resMl about to safl for Ytmm. A N«>
politan lady and her suite bad engaged it; but tbi
master of tne ship was willing also to take Francis and
bis party. When the lady uiew of this, she, in a pai*
sionate manner, forbade the ship-master to take tnest
additional passengers. Francis remonstrated with bii
usual high-bred courtesy, but in vain; the lady obliged
the captain to set sail without them. Strange to say,
before the ship had proceeded very far, and wnile Fran-
cis was yet watching it, one of those sudden squalli
common in the Mediterranean came on ; the ship was
engulfed, and every soul on board perished. Franoia
took the next opportunity to sail for Cattolica, a little
town between Ancona and Venice. On this voyage hi
himself had a very narrow escape from shipwreck, but
arrived safely at Cattolica, and from thence proceeded
to Venice, where he remained some time. This com-
pleted his travels. He returned homewards, passing
by Pavia, Milan, Turin, and arriving at bis tatbeM
ooAtMii of Ia Thuille in the spring of Jie year 1598i

OBAPTIB n.

■■ TOOATKW TO TB> BOOUIBTAtTKUL Vtk'

tH» oomrmATunrr or thb bolt cboml

FsAircis DB Sales was now twentyfive yean Oid.

•nd perhaps one of the most finishen grentlemen mm

learned jurists of his age, as most certainly in holineti

he was surpassed by no one. By his father's order he

tow took tiie title of Seigneur de V^illarooret, this being

•ne of the lortiships in the [Mssession of the family ; the

title of which, as was customary at the time, was borne

by the eldest son. He took an early op{>ortunity, after

kis return, to call upon the venerable Bishop of O^

neTa, Claude de Ornnier,-— a visit which coloured the

whole of his subsequent career; leading, as it did, firet

to his bein<r nominated to the office of provost of the

cathedral ciinpter of (jl(>neva, next to that of coadjutor

to the bishop, and Bnally to his own elevation to the

•ee of Geneva. The aged prelate receivjd him with

the utmost distinction. He had from the very first n

tresentiment, which he did not hesitate to ex|)re8s to

lis clergy, that this young nobleman would live to be

lis successor in the episcopate. The idea even haimted

lis dreams ; and the old man saw, in prophetic vision,

the career of the future saint prefigured by mysterious

emblems. He imagined he saw him engaged in the

chase in the mountainsof Savoy, slnuglitering the wolves^

bears, and ether fierce animals, which fumished but t<io

faithful a type of the heresies which devastated the

flock intrusted to his care. He made the youthiiil

Francis, tliough habited in his laical dress, anil girt

with the sword, which indicated his rank in the wo''Id,

assist at an a.<isembly of theologians; and made hint

express his opmion on a difficult point wliich huA em*

bimssed all the dispatanti, and which he solTcd wi^

I :

} 1

M.II.J

llwl Ivdd thunem whieh wii imeli a ehMraoCariitie o

Though th« Tooation of Francis to thejpriesthootf
wai thus beeozning mora and mora marked ever}
daj, his father was still bent upon carving out for him
a widely different career. M. de Boisy insisted upor
his proceeding to the bajn and Francis aid not considei
it his du^ to resist. Bfe was appointed advocate m
the supreme court or senate of Savoy, on November 24,
1692. The nomination was accompanied with circum*
stances of extraordinary distinction : the highest ho-
Hours in the state seemed opened before him ; and ha
contracted with the most iUustrious and learned mem-
ber of that profession in Savoy, Antoine Favre, a
friendship so mtimate, that they called each other by
the name of brother.

Francis had only bnen called to the bar a very short
ime, when a E'ngular incident occurred, in which he
iiscerued the u ucation of the will of God leading him
to a dilferent pa.h. In ^.ravelling with the old priesty
his preceptor, through the forest cf Sonnz, near Annecy,
his norse thrice s\ vnbled, and threw him, gallant ca-
valier as he was, •> the ground. He noticed, each
time on rising, that his 9word had fallen out of the
scabbard, and tlie scaubaid horn off his bald rick; and
that all three times the sword and the scabbai-d had
formed an exact cross on tlie ground. Francis, though
the least superstitious of mtink'nd, was much struck by
the circumstiince, which, tiitlu^g as it was, seemed to
have a divine significance, when his thoughts wera
already so strongly setting- in the direction of the
sacred ministry. lie decido I on entering the ecclesias-
tica! state; but did not iintn«vdiat4<ly confide his resolu-
tion to his father, pret'errlDg to wait till Divine Provi-
dence afforded him some favt>ural)le op]K)itunity. Such
an occasion very soon afterwards occurred. M- de Bois\
believed that he had secured a nio^t favourable matcL
for the youthful advocate. Mademoiselle de Vegy, tha
kdj OB whom hA EimL bii ohoioe, balom;ad t* mm df

I '

■Si

•T. nUHOIf DM BALWk

At icUmiI ftnilkf ill flfttoji wm waahhT^ snd k
flfoy WAj Jkslj to bftTa promoted his ton's worldlj
nppmeM. Francii seized the opportunitj to deolaio
to his father the fixed purpose which he had formed of
beooming a priest The Idnd-hearted but somewhat
ambitious old noble was deeply grieyed at this resolu-
tion. Whilst he was vainly endeavouring to combat ity
another ciroumstanoe arose which added to the painfiil-
BflSi of the sacrifice M. de Boisy was now called upon
to makoi as it showed very cleiEU'ly that he was by no
means mistaken in the lofty estimate he had formed of
his son's prospects of success. The court of Savoy
offered, and even pressed upon the young lord of Vil-
laroget to accept the office of senator in the couit of
Chaimb^. It was the highest distinction in the power
of the government to give, and such as a man of the
world oould not have sacrificed for his son without
•ente mortification. The friends of Francis sought
to soften the blow to M. at> fioisy by obv.^icdng for
lus son the ecclesiastical offi je of provost of the cathe-
dral church of Geneva. This Francis accepted in the
month of May 1693, and expressed to his father finally
tiiat his mind was made up. A scene ensued which
was exquisitely distressing to flesh and blood. M. de
Boisy was completely overcome, but at last reconciled
himself generously to the will of Almighty God, and

Eve his unreserved blessing to his son upon entering
I new career. However overwhehning the saorifioo
might be at the time, it was soon made up to him ■
thousandfold ; and the public joy with whicn the whole
dty of Annecy received it was a type of the gladness
which the episcopate of Francis de Sales was oestined
to difinse over the whole Church.

He received the minor orders on June 8th, 1698;
and four days after, on the eve of Trinity Sunday, he
was raised to be sub-deacon ; on the 18th of December
of the same year he was raised to the dignitr of tht
priesthood. From the very first he oommenoed a most
Mlif o miaiiQMiy ]i£i| and Ail biognphj •! (hia pmod il

-i^

'!:^

M. ii*J ir. nuiroii di ialu. IB

IkUhk intratfaig in a partioular nuuuMr, it iffiBid*
lag Tsluabla detaili of a oonfraternity wbioU he foundad
tlffonghoat tha diooesa of Oeneya. He relied lerj
mnoh on tha adTantages of these institutionsi as ena-
bling, hj the force ofoombmation, the weak to resist
temptationi and affording to all the means of making
rapid progress in grace. The association which ha
founded was called the " Confraternity of Penitents of
the Holy Cross, of the Immaculate Conception, and of
the Apostles St. Peter and St. Paul.'' the idea of it
waS| tnat the members should do continual penance for
their own sins and for those of others : and as thej
wars living in a heretic country where the Holy Crosi
was continually outraged, it was to be an especial devo-
tion with them to repair these insults by uieir adora-
tion and love. The selection of the title of the Im-
aiLCulate Conception of the Blessed Virgin is one of
tha many instances of the far-reaching character of
i^rancis's views. Every Catholic has heard of the im-
mense tide of miraculous graces and favours which haf
attended in our own times the establishment of a con*
fratemi^ under the same invocation. The principal
ndes of the new Confraternity of the Holy Croit
were tha following. The members were to communi-
cate on the Feasts of the Invention and of the Exalta-
tion of the Holy Cross, of the Conception of the B.Vii
of the Apostles SS. Peter and Paul, and on the second
Sunday of every month. On these festivals the Blessed
Sacrament was to be exposed all day ; and there wert
always to be two brethren enppaged in adoration for tha
space of an hour for oertam special objects, among
which were the preservation of the Faith and the con-
version of heretics. Thus we see that he m some mea^
sore anticipated the idea of the Confraternities of Per
petual Adoration. We find ales, in the rules which ha
established, traces of another d&votion now greally &•
voursd in the Church. Once a day they were to ra-
oita five PaUrs and five Av6a in hcnour of tha fiva
fwdaafofliawltkiiriiiig and with haad

I ^l

'lit

'|i

wh&Niw9r th«j htppoMd to be, eren in thu ftiMti m

EfaUo plMet. llfln, on the feitiTali we have men*
ned tbere wai to be a public prooeHion of the
brethren, chanting prayen or reciting the chaplet
Tlie Tinting of the iick, and the accompanying of the
Blesseti Sacrament when it was brought to then. , the
veoonciliation of such of the bretliren as were at ran*
tncp or at law with each other,— were among the actire
works of mercy they were enjoined to perform. We
lee in the general spirit which pervades thene rulea.
that practical, and at the same time that tender and
eonsiaerate cliaracter, by which all the inttitutioni
and views of Francis were penetrated. No austeritiea
■re appointed^ nothing that need alarm even the meet
■ickly and innrm ; but a considerable sacrifice of human
respect, the oractice of the works of mercy, and the ha-
bitual use of certain devotionr, which long experience
has shown to be the most calculated to advance souli
i long way in a short time. Ilis^ cheerful and kindlr
•pirit id beautifully displayed in the history of a pil-
grimage which he and his confraternity made to Ail
m Savoy, where a relic of the true Cross had for agei
attracted the devotion of the faithful. Never was the
▼alue of this holy practice of p*!^mages more strik-
ingly shown than on this occasion ; in the joy with
which all the devout penitents joined in the ioumeTy
tinging litanies as they went ; in the order wiiich tne
wise director established throughout ; and in the hospi-
tality afforded them by a holy and religious nobleman,
the Baron de Cusey. It was a fair and lovely picture
ef the antioue Catholic life, which in our own days, at
places hke Fouvidres and La Salette, has been restored
with such advantage and edification to the faithful.

It is scarcely necessary to say that Fmncis applied
himself with extraordinary diligence to all the duties of
the secular priest, ministering ot the destitiste, preach-
^, and hearng confessions inoessuntly. We shall ia
» Uter portion of this volume wdeavour to charaeter>
ti kim kk tktM MjMcitiaei u thia pUoa wa ahatt

I i

mlj mentioB tn uiiiiiing aneedoto^ in which the old
Bobleman, hii father, ezprested nil cpinion of tho
modem itjle of preachings, which Francis de Salai
WM amongp the nnt to introduce. Francis himael^
manj yean after, taid to the Bishop of Delley : ** 1
had the best father in the world ; but he had passed i

rt part of his life at court and in military sendee^
manims of which he knew better than theology.
Whilst I was nrovost, I preached on every occasion, af
well in the cathedral as in the parish-churches, and even
fai the humblest confraternities. I knew not how to
refuse, so dear to me was that word of our Lord's^
Omni petenti H te tribtte — spve to every one that
■sketh thee (Luke vi. 30). My good father, hearing
the bell ring for the sermon, asked who preached; they
laid to him. Who should it be but your son ? One day
he took me aside, and said to me: 'Provost, vou
preach too often ; I hear even on working-days the Dell
ring for the sermon ; and they always say to me, It if
the provost, the provost. In my time it was not so ;

Sredieations were much more rare; but also, what pre-
ications they were I God knows they were learned
well studied ; they spoke marvels ; they quoted more
Latin and Greek in one of them than you do in ten;
•very body was deli|>rhted and edified with them ; they
ran to them in crowds ; you would have said thev were
going to gather manna. Now-a-days you make thif
exercise so common, that nobody regtirds it, and ther
let no value on you.' Do you see (remarked Fmncish
this good father spoke as he understood, and with all
freedom; he spoke according to the maxims of tho
world in which lie had been brought up: but the evan*

Eelical maxims are altogether of another stamp; Jesus
hrist, the mirror of {terfection and the model of
preachers, did not use all tliese circumsipections, any
more than the Apostles who followed His st€^)8. Be-
lieve me, people can never preach enough : nun^uam
tatit dieitur qttod nuni{uam iatis dutcitur; above ally
•0ir-*-<Uji and in tht naighbovhood of hwttj^

147152

UNIVERSITY OF WINDSOR LIBRARY

tr. FiiAiroii Di lAim

\ ■ :i
! 1

i!i!

only mMn1.aifiH itself by the prSehei, and trill B0f« bt
eonquered but by preachin;^. His oondaot ai a eon-
fessor was such as could only be expressed by meta*-
phors drawn from the tenderness of a mother or the
watchfulness of an angel-guardian. With regard to
the whole office of the priesthood, he had formed, in hif
retreat preparatory to ordination, three resolutions by
which he governed himself. One was, to make all hu
actions a continual preparation for the samfice of the
altar; so that if at any moment he was asked what he
was about, he might say with truth, '' I am preparing
to say Mass." His second resolution was, never to
ascend the altar except in the same frame of mind ho
would have had if he were about to die. And the thirds
to unite himself in every thing to Jesus Christ, by tho
thought of His love and the imitation of His example.
So great a soul as that of Francis de Sales, acting upon
maxims like these, could not but immediately produoo
the noblest fruits of edification; and a ministry like hif
would be worthy of remembrance, had it lasted but a
week, and been limited to the quiet scenes of the old
Catholic provincial capital where he Uved. But he bad
scarcely laboured there half a yeai, before he was tiUB-
Boned to a wider sphere, w£n« ho aanod vrm thi
of apoitki

'I ■

OBAPTBB m.

■anov nr tma mriwiTi nt bablt

eould Boaroelj imagine a mere interesting^ stadj
fer the Gatholio missioner of the present daj, placed
•midst vast masses of population alien to the faith, than
that which is a£Pordea by Francis de Sales' mission to
the districts on the Lake of Geneva, belonging at that
time partly to the house of Savoy, partly to France.
These districts were the duchy of Chabuus, and the
hailiwicks of Oex, Temier, and Gaillard. After the
restless citizens of Geneva had thrown off the yoke both
of their Prince*bishop and of his lay rival the Duke
if Savoy, the possession of these provinces, lying alonff
Jie borders ot their lake, and almost witlun view m
their eity, became naturally an object of their anziouf
tmbition, and almost necessary to their poUtical exist-
ence. The war between Francis I. and Emmanuel-
Philibert of Savoy supplied them with an opportunitj
of seizing on the coveted possessions ; and the Cathoho
religion was rooted up in them with all that sacrilegi-
ons fury which characterised the pretended Reformation
ivery where. Churches were desecrated, abbeys de-
molished, crosses overthrown; and a feeble remnant oi
Cathohce alone remained in what had but lately been
a fine and richly-adorned portion of the Lord's vine-
yard. The provinces were, indeed, again surrendered
by the Swiss to the Duke of Savoy when peace was
eoncluded between Henry IL of France and Emmanuel-
Philibert ; but the treaty expressly guaranteed that the
Cathoho religion should not be re-established. The re-
ligious con(|uest, therefore, survived, though the politi-
cal dominion changed ; and so matters went on, till, is
the reign of Charles- Emmanuel, the son of the last*
■mtiiiiod fviaoi^ thoO«MftM MiMd tU poTiaoia §m

:;r

a I

I 1 !

iiii

m tr. VBAHOIl DB tALBli

the Moond time. Thia usurpation ended most fort»
nately for Catholicity ; since Divine Providence occa*
lioued bj that event the wonderful mission by which
Francis de Sales brought back those thickly-peopled
and beautiful regions to the Catholic faith. Charles^i
Emmanuel very speedily reduced them to subjection ;
and then, as he justly considiered their revolt nad re-
leased him from the obligations of the treaty by wliioh
they were originally restored to his father, he deter-
mined on effecting the re-establishment of the Catholic
religion throughout those distincts. Had he even used
eompulsion to make his subjects renew their allegiance
to the faith as well as to tlie government A'om which
they had revolted, Protestants at least would have had
no right to com))iain ; since the so-called Heformation
was undeniably carried by violence and rapine, and
■tood towards the sovereigns of £uru))e precisely at
Socialism, its logical develojiment, does at present. liut.
with that moderation and ])rudence which characterised
for many generations the house of Savoy, Charles-
Emmanuel resolved to adopt the method of gentleness
rather than that of force ; and if he used the steel
gauntlet, to swathe it in velvet. He accordingly de-
sired the Bishop of Geneva to select a certain number
of ecclesiastics of edifying Ufe and adequate learning, to
be sent as missionaries into the reconquered provinces.
The bishop accordingly sent to Tlionou a worthy and
■ealous pnest nameu Bouchut, who encountered' such
difficulties on the part of the rude and intractable )X>-
pulation, that he remained but a short time, and re*
tuiiied quite in despair of effecting any thing undei
existing circumstances. Upon this the bishop, aftei
some delav, called together an assembly of his clergy
in the cathedral of Annecy, and asked their advice and
assistance. His harangue, although recommended by
his gentle piety and venerable old age, seemed likely
to mil of resimnse. The clergy remained in moumiiU
•ilenoe; mucu like the Israelites of old, terrihf^d by the
iMtfiBaliiMi of tbt daoff en wluoh bdMt

m.]

•r. FKAiroif Da ialh.

into the promiBed land. A more disconrag^fi^ proroee< ^
indeed, it would have been difficult for them to oaTt
pictured to their minds. A population which for liz^
years had been alienated from the faith ; amonsr whoa
Calyinism was regularly estabUshed ; close to UeneT%
the very head-quarters, " the Rome of heresy/' af
Francis caUs it, and identifying its urofession of ueresy
with the political independence oi which it had just
been deprived. Every thing seemed agiiinst success;
and the clergy might have thought that had St. John
the Baptist risen from the dead, he had better have
turned Lis supernatural energy to any undertaking for
the glory of uod rather than to this. Ou? man there
was m tliat assembly, the youthful provost of Geneva,
who gave way to no such discouragements. Francis
de S^es felt his whole soul enkindle at the pros})ect
from which the othera shmnk, and oHered to lead the
enterprise himself: he advised that the bishop should
remain at home to help them, like another Mnses, by
his prayers, and enter on the Held only when the har-
vest was ready to be reaped ; for himiself, he asked foi
no assistants at present but his cousin Louis de Sales.

The bishop gladly granted his request. Others
•eem to have considered it a Quixotic sort of enter
prise; and Francis had to resist not only the advice aiM^
commands of his father, but the angiush which he v»
hemently expressed on seeing his son engaged in whtt
he believed an imprudent, aud ])erhaps even alarming
enterprise, in whicu his life might at any moment be
lacrinced to the fury of an heretical mob. Even to
those of his friends who did not view the matter in thii
light, one can easily imagine how the highly-boro
ecclesiastic must have seemed to be ^' throwing himsell
away" in going to evangelise the narrow-minded magis-
trates and uncultivated ponulntion of a country-town
and its vicinity ; among whom, as the result showed,
M. de Boisy was quite right in anticipating his son'i
life might be endangered. Notwithstanding all tmpo*
litkni liowefer^ Fn»6ia and Louia de Siia^ on oepi

[ '■ 'M

1.1 i

fl]|» (594, Mt out from Annacrf , lod proeeecM ibit ti
the eoatean of Sales^ which la^ in their road. Here thej

rt a few days, during which they had to encountef
constant remonstrances of M. ae Boisy. In spite
of all this vexatious opposition, thej made full prepara-
tions for their great undertakinsp bj fasting, prayer,
mortifications, and a general confession. On the even-
ing of Sept Idth, Francis bade farewell to his mother,
who, unlilce his father, said nothing to discourage her
son from his heroic mission. They spent a large part
of the night in prayer in the castle chai)el, and started
early on their march next morning, toe Feast of the
Exaltation of the Holy Cross. The^ travelled on foot, in
apostolic fashion, imencumbered with any luggage that
could be spared, and canying no books but the jBreviary,
the Bible, and Bellarmine's Controversies. Francis ae
Sales was dressed in somewhat secular attire, wearing
his hair short, and his beard thick and bushy, in the
fitfhion of the day. He found this gave him access
where a more ecclesiastical garb would have alarmed
people ; and he was not a man to sacrifice winning souls
to the Church for any feeling on matters not of vital
importance. They arrived at Allinges, a fortress on the
frontiers of the Ohablais, by which the Duke of Savoy
kept the whole duchy in submission. It was commanded
by a brave captain, the Baron d'Hermance, an old
mend of the house of Sales, who received the chival*
rous missionaries with great kindness, in obedience both
to the orders of the Duke of Savoy, and from a regard
for M. de Boisy. He led his guests to the platform
of the castle, and showed them the scene of their
future labours. On every side of the beautifiil land
ieap«> the Reformation had lefb traces of its baleful
eonr^ over regions which were then fresh from the
hands of the spoiler. Churches in ruins, crosses over-
tomed, castles and villages laid waste,—- such were the
dreary tokens of the sway of the enemy whom Franoie
WM letting out to combat. At the aistance of time
hndved jewi| the delioatt finger of time liai i&?«ta4

Itl.i

•r. WMMMCm M lALMl

Bonaftie ndm with a wnt of lentimental oharm, d
leut to Jimdf wh^ l«ok only at the exterior. No
nioh chum oonld poflnnbly have existed in 1604, whea
penMiDf were sdll living who could recollect the time
when those fair abbeys had resounded with the praises
of the Lord, and the kneeling faithful worshipped afi
ihoie crosses. The ruins were but the raw ana oleed-
ing wounds of the Spouse of Christ. Francis could not
restrain his tears at the sight, and broke out into some
of those mournful exclamations with which the ancient
prophets bewailed the ruins of the holy city.

They then debated on the plan of'^action to be jnir*
ined. The baron drew a discoimiging picture of^the
population Francis de Sales was undertaking to con*
▼ert. Ther were good sort of people on the whole, but
ftupid audi slow; of the class into whose head it if
aqiudly hard to get an idea conveyed, or, once con*
reyed, to drive it out again : their whole temporal in-
terests too were involved, or they supposed them to be
•0^ in keeping good friends with their neighbours oi
Geneva; and they regarded their liberties as co-existent
with the exercise of the Calvinist religion. The baron
teoommended ihe missionaries to go warily to work,
tad with the utmost caution. He gave them letters
to the magistrates of the town; and the two mission*
■riiiii want forward on their arduous mission, unao*
eompanied by any escort. He said that they coula
oot safely skep m the town, but must return every
aight to the castle ; that, for the present, they ougM
oot to attempt more than preaching at Thonon, for it
would be oseless to say Mass there; and he recom-
mended them to say it either in the castle chapel, or at
Harin, a place still Catholic, on the other side of the
river Drance, or in an old chapel of the monks of St
Bcnard on Uie borders of the lake.

On arrivmg at Thonon, they found, on inquiiy^
that there were out seven Catholic familifs in the place^
Anonntmg to not more than fourteen or fifteen soula
IImit aiieaiblid tlmi tflOTthwi and Fnnoii MLdzmid

!/?' ■

Hi^

V tr. Fiuirois in fiuik

Aim with boly exhortations, umoimoing IiimMlf ti
tlMir pastor ; and inviting them in future to assemhlt
at the church of St. Hippolytu&, which had been d**
dared common for the service of both reUgions. TL0J
then presented their letters to the magistrates, and in
the evening returned to AlUnges. They returned nait
day, and so continued ; preaching daily either in the
town or the neighbouring villages, whither they went
always on foot, and stan in hand, like the disciples of
our Lord. It does not Rp|iear that at first they had
to contend with more tlian complete indifference on the
part of the Protestant inhabitants of Thonon. It was,
mdeed, reported that the ministers of Geneva were cla-
mounng to have the missionaries whipf>ed out of the
town ; but it is not likely any thing ot the kind would
have been thought of by the fieople of Tlionon, with
the castle of A Hinges at the distance of only six miles.
On several occasions, however, it is certain that Francis
was in imminent danger of assassination. On Jan. 8
1695, a fanatic (who afterwards was converted to the
fiuth) made three unsuccessful attempts to shoot him
and afterwards |X)8ted other assassins in various placet
;o intercept him, from whose hands he miraculously
reaped. Similar attempts we shall have to record
brtuer on.

At present, and long afterwards, the holy mission-
vies had much anxiety for want of money. M. de
Boisy, angry at what he considered his sod's pertina^
lity in going on with the mission, would not assist
diem; and it was only by stealth Madame de Boisy
X>uld send them supplies. Francis thought of learuing
A trade, Hke St. Paul, but goodhumouredly said he was
ioo dull to make any thing, except mend his clothes
% httle. Of the isolation in which they Uved, Francis
^ves us an idea, by playfully comparing a Catholio
^ady of Thonon, connected with his own family, 10 Ra-
!kabf except so far as regarded her character. Lilrt
ftahsb, she sheltered the spies of tlie oeoule of the
iMK M \hM midft of a waole dtw tuA ^

I. in.]

tT. WmAHCiS Torn fALIt.

Thwj Bade litde projj^ress in gBining^ the etr of tht
people by their sermons. In a letter written in the
fpnng or 1505, after he had been for seven months
fesidinff in Thonon itself, he says that he had preached

Knerally every festival, and very often on week-days,
t only three or four Hup^enots on four or five occa-
sions had attended his sermons ; that it was wonderftd
to see the hold which tem|)oraI interest had on theii
minds,— an evil which seemed to admit of no remedy ;
for talk to them of hell, and thev sheltered themselves
under the mercy of Ood ; and if fiiither pressed, took
themselves off at once. In short, they were cold, timid
and imnincticahle. Notwithstanding' all this, whilil
at Aliinffes he walked regularly every day to Thonon
and back again, two long leagues, in the severest wea-
ther, just as punctually as if he had the most flou-
risliing mission on his hands tiiat ever rewarded the
toils of a Catholic pnest. If we miglit be allowed to
illustrate religion from politics, and to compare indivi-
duals the most dissimilar it is possible to imagine, wo
are reminded of O'ConnelFs persisting in holding hii
meetings; gravely moving and seconding resolutions,
and hffving reimrts drawn up for tlie papers, wiien only
two or three stragpflers were present. He knew weU
enough that he had resources in himself, and that a
party would be sure to grow with his energy and per^
severance. So he surveyed the half-empty hall with
the utmost cheerfiilness, till in a fnw years lie was able
to cover whole miles of the country with multitudei
from every nuarter. '

Ulie metliod of controversr adopted by Francis de
Sales rested on a few prio. pies which, in these days,
it is well to recal. One was, to avoid ail abusive terms
of the heretics or their doctrine. To use his own meta-
phor, he concealed the lancet in wool, and inflicted the
salutary wound almost before the application of the
instrument was felt Another was, that he persuaded
those with whom he discussed to admit this very rea>
iDBftbU pnlimiaary,-— (hat tho d«bat« ihould tiinL, aol

»•>

•T. FKANOIt Dl lALM.

on thingff they themselves allowed to be moiffcrent, mr
onljr on points really essential ; and such as alone cruld
justify their separation from the Catholic Church, sup-
posing their view to be right. He further demanded
two other conditions, which were emially fair, viz. that
they should not accuse Catholics for supposed conse*
Quences from doctrines, when these consenuences wero
oisavowed by the Catholics themselves ; ana lastly, that
the authorities referred to for Catholic doctiine should
not be any private authors, but simply the recognised
tfixt-books of the Catholic Church herself, the Cate-
ehism and other formularies of the Council of Trent.
No Protestant would venture to refuse these conditionsy
if he cared to profess himself a fair disputant, or se-
riously intended a controvei'sy for the sake of arriving
at truth. He not only preached and conversed inces-
■antly, but wrote at every spare moment he could find,
and caused his papers to oe distributed every week
•mong families, or posted up in the streets in the form
of placards. These papers ne nerer lived to publish in
% collected form ; though he intended to have based on
Jhem a work on ** the method of converting heretioi
by holy preaching." Writing to his friend the Arch-
bishop ot Vienne, on this design, he observes: ** I would
employ in it several meditations made during five vean
in the Chablais, where I preached without other books
than the Bible and those of the great Bellarmine.'*
The Mss. were lost sight of for a Ion? time alter hii
death, but were discovered, in 1658, oy Charles An*
guste de Sales, in an old deal box in the ch&teau of lit
Thuille, and were edited under the title of Contro*
verses de 8. Franqois de Sales, They are divided into
four parts, treating respectively of mimrnS; of the rale
of faith, of the Sacraments, and of purgaicry ; ana
though they have only reached us in an imperfect form,
furnish a most interesting study to the popular contro-
▼ersiahst. Hiey are often characterised oy a certain
archness, which is amusing, and which belongs to tho
MtioBti tomporunont of 8aToy. On liis kaoinodft cf

'• ii

. III.]

•T. 'mAWOIt BB lALM. 8D

Chflir temperament, and consequent srmpatlij with
the people among whom he laboured, Francis appean
to have relied much. He twice alludes to it m tht

Ereface to the Cantroverses. " Its method and style/
e remarks, " will not displease you, for it is altogethei
Savoyard ;" and again, very beautifully, " Although
you may have seen several books better made and
oetter adorned, let your attention rest a little on this,
which will, perhaps, be more agreeable to yo^ir humour
than the others : tor it is altogether Savoyard ; and one
of the most salutary receipts and latest remedies is th§
-§tum to on^s native air.

Still, with all his gentleness, he knew the import-
ance of using at times a little parade and display of
the strength of the Catholic argument. Thus, at a
later period of his mission, when the ministers flinched
from meeting him in controversy, he writes to Favre '
** I promised that in my next sermon I would demon
ftrate the dogma from the Scriptures more clearN
than the light of noon-day; ana would maintain .i
with such a weight of reasoning, that not one of my
ipponents shall be ignorant that he has been blinded
oy the thickest darkness, unless he has bid farewell to
humanity and reason. They rightly perceive that bj
these rhodomontade propositions they and their under-
•tandings are challen^ea to the combat, at the risk, if
they do not come, oi being thought utter cowards for
drmdinff the onset of any Catholic, of however small
account?' But "we are anticipating triumphs, of which
there was for many a weary monw no visible indica-
tion. Francis kept making his dally pilgrimages to
Thonon, notwithstanding great suffering from the cold
of an Alpine winter. Kemarkable occurrences are re-
corded, which showed his fortitude and trust in Diviv
Providence. On one occasion, when the missionaries l\\\^
delayed their departure from the little town till near
nightfall, thejr lost their way in returning to AUinflpei,
and were denied admittance at every door of a Pro-
iMtanft yil^pt tluroii((h wUdi Umj fumd^ tht peoplt

fl '!i;

Id ft. FSAvon db saiMi

luiTing ft raperstitioivi dread of them inAued into iMr
minds bj the minf^ten, who gave out that the Cft-
tholie miwionariei were eorceren, and had dealingi
with the devil. They only escaped beings in all pro-
bability frozen to death, by fortunately finding shelter
In the Tillage bakehouse, the oven of which was still
warm. On another occasion, just as they were goinr
out of the gates, a Huguenot, who had been struoK
with the contrast between the a{K>8tolic patience and
gentleness of Francis, and the conduct of the minister!
of his own sect, enti'eated to have a talk with him.
Francis could not refuse, though there awaited him the
dangerous journey through the forest to be traversed
by night. The result of the conversation is not known;
but the biographers of the Saint give a most picturesque
description of his return by night to AUinges, accom-
panied only by his cousin and a servant. Tliey lost
their way m the thick darkness ; the howling of wolves
and bears it heard all around ; the travellers at length|
the moon breaking forth, see a large ruined building at
ft distance, which proves to be one of the many ancient
churches which tue Calvinists had overthrown. The
missionaries take refuge in it; and whilst his com-
panions slept, Francis, Kke another Jeremias, poured
rorth his lamentations on the desecrated temple. What
makes one more admire this heroic endurance is, that he
had at the same time so hard a fight with the opposi-
tion of friends. }Iis father used ^1 his entreaties and
authority to make Francis resign what he considered a
hopeless and dangerous undertaking, in which at best he
was throwing himself away; and ror a moment he evim
induced the Uisho]) of Geneva to consent to recal him.
Antoine Favre visited Thonon to see how he got on ; and
on his return writes a letter, in which Le hints to Francis
that, notwithstanding ^lie extraordinary admiration en-
tertained for his cliaruoter, there was a general notion
be was casting pearls before swine. About this time
Francis wrote a noble letter to Favre, in which, after
lilliBf him thai tht Iftftdimg mtaau, not traftJi^ (Mr

i M

'«■. IIL] M*. WtLAMCU 01 lALM. &

bdiTidual resolution to ayoid him, hid bound them-
•elves by a mutual engagement never to hear Catholie
lennons, be adds, ** I believe I see the object of theM
wretched men : they want in a manner to compel us to
go away, by aestroyiug all hu]>e of doing any thing :
but wti, on the other hand, 80 long as the treaty and
the wiU of the ecclesiastical and secular princes shall
permit, have wholly and most resolutely determined to
apply to the work, to leave not a stone unturned, to en-
treat, to rebuke, in all the ])atience and devotion God
has given us. But in my opinion, if we are to fight in
this arena, we must have, not preaching only, but the
Htcrifice of the Moss as soon as possible, that the enemy
day feel that he is not so much abatmg as increasing
•ur courage by his arts; but I see that gi mi prudflnoe
is requirel in that maitor/*

•V. VSAWOII Dl lALl

I Si

I ft,

> .ui ■!

I ii

CHAPTEB IT.

•SABVAL OBlirOI IK TBI STATB OV AWWXnt, AVC WAft

ooxTsasioii or tiu obablais.

Mant months passed with as little encouragement at
«Ter. At leng^ a turn took place in the state of affairs;
and at first, as often happens, in an indirect manner. Tha
garrison at Allinges haa oeen remarkable for its excessei^
especially in blasphemy, drunkenness, and duelling.
Francis made the reformation of these poor soldiers
his by-work in the midst of his grand undertaking of
Thonon. AUinges, as we have seen, was his head-

auarters, whither at first he returned every night after
be labours of the day among the thanldess citizens.
Tired out as he might be with preaching, arg^g, and
walking so many miles, in all weathers, over mountain-
.oads and through forests, he still heard the confessions
df the soldiers; and ^;ained such an ascendency over them,
that the whole garrison became changed, and irjstead of
being the terror of the surrounding districts, was now its
wonder and edification. A beautiful story is told of his
method of dealing with these rugged hearts. One of
the soldiers, who had been touch ->! by a sermon of the
apostolic missionary, came and n^ade his confession to
hmi in agonies of remorse. All the penance Francis
SBve him was an '' Our Father" and a **■ Hail Mary.''
The penitent expressed his amazement ait what seemed
to him extreme mdulfreoce. Francis in reply bade him
trust in the mercy ci God, which was greater than all
his iniquities, and said that he would bind himself with
the surplus of his penance. The soldier was so struck by
this angelic chanty, that a few weeks after he entered
religion and became a Carthusian. We know of no
more instructive instance of what all must often have
ktif viii tht tttraotdinaiy geoAroiity of Um Catholif

am. iT.j ST. rmANoit db salbs. m

Ghoreh. In h«r there are no upbraidingi. The linner
does penance, and the Precious Hlood washes away hia
lini ; the simplicity )f the satisfaction leaving tJbe soul
in a kind of tranquil amazement, and deeply imbued
with the feeling that to sin af^n, when forgiveness haa
been accorded with such lavish, such infinite love, M'ould
■dd to the stain of sin an element of new and stupendoua
ingratitude. To retiun, however, to our chief subject.
The change wrought by Francis on the garrison of
Allinges, of course, was not long in producing its effect
on the hearts of the people of Thonon; and though, even
•fter this, Francis still had his patience tried for many
months, nrom that time might be dated a new epoch
in his mission.

The next advantage gained was the conversion of
an aged gentleman in the neighbourhood, whom Francis
prevented fighting a duel, and in whom he effected a
thorough alteration, not only of his mode of life, but of
his whole character. This gentleman's house became
lort of rendezvous for those who wished to hear abou«
the Catholic religion ; and there Francis held regular
eonferences, which soon began to have powerfiil effect.
He had a particular gift in winning people by conversar
tion, in whioh his persuasiveness arose, first, from that
real sweetness and kindness of heart, whioh may be said
to be almost irresistible ; and secondly, from an absence
of any thing like empressement ; that is, he would never
be over hasty or eager, nlways be ready patiently to
hear what people had to .say, and quietly to wait the
proper opportunitv for saying in his turn what wai
nttmg ; and finally, he would never pursue an advan-
tage too far, but knew liuw to leave off just at the righ^
mom«it. A man who had unrivalled charity, humibty,
and confidence in God, would naturally show those cha-
facteristics in conversation.

The gentleness of his method of conducting contro-
versy, and the unexpected manner in which he brought
out atrongly principles which the Calvinists thought
pMidiarlj th«r awn praptrtyy onaad gratt inriinM;

111

iT. nUHOIt 1» lALl

f;l

I.'-,

I I

•T8B ts in onr daj Proteitants are astonished to find
Thomas k Kempis or Rodriguez so ''' evangelical/' Plow
eould one, brought up in " the darkness of popery/' naj
more, who was moving heaven and earth to oring that
supposed darkness again upon the Chablais, sprak so
bMutiliillv of the mediation of Christ? Some tried to
explain this, however, by supposing that Francis had
improved his views by being so much with the Calvin-
ists ; and others contended that he was disguising the
real tenets of the Catholic Church. Francis put out a
pamphlet on the subject of the conferences, in which
was shown that what he taught was simply the doctrine
of the Catechism of the Council of Trent^ and that no
one would argue that the Council did not know what
Catholic theology was. He conchuietl by challenging
the ministers to a disputation either by writing or in
public discussion. I'hey shrank, however, Irom accept*
mg the challenge, and did not venture a rnply to nia
pamphlet The fear with wliich he inspired them was
made apparent soon after bv a conspii-acy to assassinate
(he gentleman at whose house the conferences were
held. His presence of mind and his gi'neitMity, how*
ever, were such, that the matter only endetl in the con-
version of the man who had intended to take his hfe:
the Catholic movement again took a fresh impulse; and
^i»le came in crowds to hear Francis de Sales, in siiita
of tue rage and the prohibitions of their ministers, 'lliey
now nlotted to take the life of Fiiuicis himself; and
•n July 18th, 1695, two assassins actually waylaid him
in the forest, as he was returaing as usual to Alhnges,
with a very few companions. Francis behaved like our
Lord, when St. Peter drew his sword to d«»fend Him
against the band of soldiers headed by the traitor. Ha
forbade his attendants to use their weapons ; and ad-
vancing towards the assassins, he said, ''^ My fiiAnds,
you are mistaken. You surely would not act thus to-
wards a man who, far from having offended you, would
yield up his life for you wit\{ all his heart" lliis heroic
MNB^J •IdaBMBOV mbdllid Um Mf ^^ BMA w^ M

ni n

•r. FBAirOIf OB lAUM.

■tttioiied «*Qi8elye8 there to murder him. T^uj ra-
mained 8tu]ufied for an instant, and threw themselvet
at his feet, protesting that for the future he should hava
no servants more devoted to him than they. The holj
missioner spoke kindly to them, and baoe them taka
care how they fell in the way of the Baron d'Hermanoe^
who would not be so indulgent to them as he was.
Soon after this Francis decided on removing^ to Thonon;
the number of converts increasing* so fast required him
to be continually on the spot, and he could no longer
afford the time for his daily journeys. To reside in tha
place was, however, still a great risk ; and the Baron
d'lleimance urged him still to remain in the castle, ai
n.en who had attempted to miu'der him by daylight on
the road would be likely to find means of carrying theii
evil purpose iLio effect if he lived among them by night
as well as day. Francis, however, jtersisted, and wai
received at Thonon by his C holic flock with great
v>y. One of his biogitinhers thus descrfbes the moda
o^life led by Francis ana his faithful |)eople :

'* Nothing (he remarks) could be so like the early
Church as the little church of Thonon ; the same charity
for the brethren, the same zeal for the faith, an exactly
similar purity of murals : for Francis made little account
of a man's relintpushing his errors, if he did not change
his life, — if grace did not su])eral)ound where sin had
abounded; and the )>enediction which God had attached
to his ministry went at once to enlighten the mind and
to change the heait. But notliing so )N)weriully struck
such heretics as were not entirely hardened, as to sea
the way in which the poor and the sick were succoured.
Francis used to employ all he had to live upon in
this; so that afler having fed others, he was bimseli
often reduced to suffer hunger: he kept continually
loliciting his relations and fhends to help the pom
fiiithfiil of tlie ChaMais. He often received sums con*
•iderable in themselves, but which were trifling when
measured by his charity. The CathoUcs seconded hi»
ml to fuh an «sttitt tf to oontaU thomitLyat mtnij

fT. FBANOIS DB lALM.

widi what was neoessaiy; and a holy economy was
to prevail among them, which had no other ohiect it
▼iew but the relief of the destitute." Qilarsollier's lAf
of St, Frauds de Sales, book ii.) One is indeed re
minded here of Catholic ways in times yery widely
apart. The heathen said: '* See how these Ghristianff
loTe one another!" In a beautifid chapter of the Trea
Use on the Love of God, Francis relates how St. Paco-
loiasy when yet a Pagan, received his first impulses of
admiration for the faith by seeing the charity of the
Christians in furnishing provisions for the distressed
soldiers of Maxentius. In our own times, an exact ob
server tells ns that the half-pagan population of Lon
don are led to entertain a special respect for the Catholit
religion from observing that poor CathoHcs in adversity
are so often set on their legs again by the charity of
their brethren. (Vide London Labour and the London
Poor.) The malignity of conscious and wilftd heresy
is, however, extraordinary. The jealousy and hatred of
the ministers increased m proportion to the way which
Francis was making among me people, and they once more
idotted against his hfe. Late one night his house was
Mset by a party of armed men ; the holy missioner, ac-
cording to his custom, was at prayer, ana heard the clash
of arms and the noise of voices talking in an under-tone -
he just had time to conceal himseU^ when they forced
open the door, and ransacked the house to lull him
His hiding-place, however, seems to have been as weL
chosen as some of those " priests' holes" they show is
<dd Bnglish Catholic houses ; the wretches failed to dis*
eoTer him, and were obliged to retire, assistance having
been unwillingly sent by the magistrates. Enraged at
being thus disappointed^ of their prey, they went about
repeating their old story that Francis was a sorcerer, for
he could not have escaped if be had not had the gift of
making himself invisible. When Francis heard of this
charge, he smiled, and making the sign of the cross, said,
'' H«« are all the charms I own; andby this sign 1 nope
t» gwiiw htUp hr from being on tcnns with n,"

1. .|

•a. it.l

•T. VIUNOIt DB BALMM,

Now that he resided in Thonon, and as jet it
not prudent to say Mass in the town, he went eveij
morning to offer the holy Sacrifice at Marin, a Tillago
on the other side of the river Drance. In June 1596,
the hridge having been broken by the floods, he was
obliged to cross upon a plank, stretching over a terrible
chasm, and often as slippery as glass with its coating of
ice. Yet rather than be dfeprived of saying Mass, he
would creep on his hands and knees, at the risk of his
life, across the frightful pass. OccasionaUr he also
said Mass in the chapel of the monks of St. liemard at
Montjou, or in that of the. castle of Allinges. When he
visited the latter, he used to preach and^ve communion
at the neighbouring parish-church. On one occasion
the congre^tion only amounted to seven pei'sons, and
b\: was advised to save himself the trouble of preaching.
^id replied, however, that he would preach if there were
only one person present ; he owed instruction to a Uttle
flock as well as to a great one. The sermon, which was
on the invocation of saints, saved the faith of a geutlemar
who heaixi it, and who was on the very verge of apostasy.
He now ventured to preach, mounted on a chair, in tne
market-place of Thonon; when the people would break
off business and listen to him, hushed in silence. He
was indefatigable in visiting the sick ; and as he was in
a heretic town, he made his flock understand by hik
manner when he was carrying the Blessed Sacrament
about him, and they followed liim reverently at a dis-
tance.

The signs of harvest began now to thicken. In April
1696, Francis writes with great satisfaction to Favre,
that the Baron d' Avully, one of the most important of
the gentry of the place, together with the " 8)Tidic8," or
magisti-ates of the city, had very recently attended a ser-
mon of his on the Real Presence ; and that others, who
did not dare to come openly, had endeavoured to hear
what they could in a little back lanu, where he was
afraid his voice could not reach, aiid that he had jeen
toid dit CalTinistB intended to p^ibliah ** a oonfesmoii if

li'li

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M m

II. ti

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I ; I

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l^>

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their fiu^" to serve as the bitsis of disoQiiion with
him. '' Toe business is now safe/' he triumphantly re*
irks ; ** for they have begun to parley, and, as the pro-
verb has it, will next come to suiTender." Hm est in
tuto:jam enim ad cdlloquia descenduntf moXf ut ear pro-
verhio, ad deditwttem venturi. A veij interesting reply
<rom me Senator Favre to this letter is extant, in wmco
he says there had been a report of Francis's returning
to Annecy, whicii he had much hesitated to beUeve,
and had wished particularly to hear from him, in order to
learn whether he had merely come to Annecy, or bad
returned thither. Like Regulus of old, he might in-
deed have visited his home; out with the full intention
of keeping his word, and going back to Carthage. He
congratulates him warmly on the victories he was gain-
ing, and no longer among the dii minorum gentium,
but among those melioris notasBy some of whom he heart
have been so overcome by the mere report of Francis't
ailments, that they kept out of his way, and avoideo
meeting or seeing him, — '* Good God ! how would it
have been had they heard you si)eaking and disp;:ting !"
—and others had resolvea to conduct the controversy
m writini^, imagining, for which the senator thought
them rash, that tiieir paper, full of lies and impudence
as it might be, would not bli sh. Viret, the Calvinist
minister of Thonon, and his brethren, began to find
themselves called upon to take some public steps to
counteract Francis. They challenged him to a publio
disputation, which he gladly accepted ; but when the
day came, only Viret attenaed, and made a shuffling
excuse, on behalf of himself and the rest, for withdraw-
ing their chailen^, on pretence it might offend the
Buke of Savoy. Francis obtained for them a written
authorisation fi>om the Daron d'llermance to hold Vie
disfiutation; but th^y alleged fuither idle excuses, and
qTiitted the town without daring to face their formidania
opponent. Two great and leading conversions followed
■oon after ; one of them, that of an advocate of distino"
tay uuDid Ponoati tha oUmt, tbt •hof^iiainirf hum

. IT.J

•T. rSAllOIt SB tJLLWM. W

d'AfuIlj, wlio Iwcame moet ^iseful to Franeie by bit aid
•nd suf^^tions in carrying on the work of catholioisinff
the province. Francis considered this conversion of sucS
great importance, that he made a special commemo-
ration of it once a year, on the 4th October, as long ai
be hved. In the present day, when Protestants are so
fond of adopting the system of passing over in silence
most convincing treatises on the Catholic side, of ** ig-
noring*' them, as the ])hra8e is, it is interesting to oo*
■erve that the Swiss Calvinists in Francis de Sales'
time used precisely the same stratagem towards him ;
imitating tlie silly bird ir the fable, who, so long as it
bides its head li'om the i wler, thinks that its body is
lecure. A controversial ^uper, written by Francis at
D'Avully's request before his convei'sion. was sent to
the ministers of Berne and Geneva, ana met with no
■ort of notice. Such a mode of procpeding of course
only tended the more to o])en D'AvuIIy's eyes to the
weakness of the Calvinistic bei'esy, and to the strength
of the Catholic argument, from which tliey could only
take refiige in stupid inaction. One instance, indeed,
occr:n*ed, which showed that had they entei-ed into either
controversy or discussion, the result would have been
the same. D'Avuily pi-suaded Francis to call on La
Faye, a celebrated minister at Geneva, with whom he
baa a long conference at his own house. As in many
such debates, the minister kent continually shifting
bis ground when pressed on one point, immediately
flying to some other objection, and ending in a torrcn:.
M the most outrageous invectives, which Fi-uncis bore
with his usual serenity.

Conversions now began to be numerous, and the
snccess of Francis's mission l)ecanie the object of gene-
ral interest and applause. Poi)e Clement VIII. him*
self wrote to ex])ress his approbation of the zeal and
diligence which Francis hud shown ; and the Duke of
Savoy oi-dered him to crime to Turin to advise with
him on the means of completing tJie great work which
WW 10 bappilj hmiiUL It waa to L« azpeotfld aoat

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0T. FBAWOn DB lALIS.

wool J ooeur in the midst of such a eareer of fiie-
' d there happened one of a kind particularly
tryinf j ^ character like that of Francis. Just when
lie hiuu received his order from the Duke, a hrief, dated
October 1, 1596, arrived from Pope Clement VIII., in
which his HoUness intimated to Francis de Sales, that
he had commissioned a Capuchin friar. Father Esprit
de Baume, to acquaint him with a great design which
he desired him to undertake. This was no other than
to attempt the conversion of the celebrated hei-esiarcb
Beza, wh^ resided at Geneva, as the successor of Calviii,
and chief of his sect. Beza was now verv old; and the
Holy Father probably thouopht that Fiancis's unrivalled
powers of persuasion, combined with that tenderness
towards early recollections which Beza mig'ht be ex-
pected to have (for he had been a Catholic till long
past his early youth), would be not unlikely to work a
change. At a distance, the undertaking* seemed invit-
ing' ; but had his Holiness been on the spot, he woula
have perceived that the time was not yet arrived fo*
Francis to turn his attention to any thing but carrying*
on the vast work he had in hana. It was the most
critical moment in the conversion of the province; it
was very doubtfrd whether the Duke could be induced
Vrmally to establish the Catholic reliction in the pro-
lince; and if this op{)ortunity were lost, the chance
might never occur affain. Beza, though a neat man,
was but an individual ; and the salvation of thousands
depended on the decision of the Duke. Francis saw
very distinctly that, although in appearance obedi-
tnce prompted him to go to Geneva, liis real duty,
which ^he Holy Father himself would have enjoined
had he been present and known the facts, was t? pro
eeed with the mission before him. He was in the pa«d-
tionof an officer at a distance frt)m his general, reoeiy-
fflg orders which the general himself would reverse if
he were at hand ; he therefore boldly took the respon-
•ibility of acting a<!cording to the existing einmm-
wluehf afUr a goal dail *£ harasiiny «ppQ»

'. 1:^

IB. IT.I

•T. VMIlf OM OB f Atn.

tioDy STOD Fathei Espnt, with wnom the eonyertioii of
Beza was a pet scheme, at last admitted was the proper
end only course to be pursued.

Francis arrived at IHuin in December 1696, after
A perilous winter journey across the Alps. He was
most flatteringly received by the Duke and all the
CSourt of Piedmont, and was invited to state his views
before the Gouncfl. He made a long speech, of the
most statesmanlike kind, and at the same time full ot
the ecclesiastical spirit, which lost none of its e£Pees
from his youthful appearance. He argued that ^iie
time had at length arrived for the state to put forth its
energies in completing the work of conversion. The
Duke was unwilling to harird the use of forcible mea-
Bores for fear of Geneva a. Henry IV., who might
take advantage of any discontent in the dominions of
Savoy. Francis did not recommend force; but he
pointed out the dangerous connection which always ex-
isted between Calvinism and rebellion, and showed that
the bulk of the population did not hold to Calvinism on
conviction, but merely because Catholicity had been re-

S resented to them in false colours. The ministers evi-
ently maintained tlieir gi'ound on principles which had
no claim to respect; for they reiiisfd to argue the sub-
ject, and had sought on two or three occasions to get
rid of the difficulty by attempting to have Francis as-
sassinated. It seemed most unreasonable to allow the
presence of such men to stand in the way of the conver-
sion of a whole people. He therefore recommended
that all the Protestant ministers should be sent out of
the country. He further advised that state-patronage
should be transferred from the Protestants to the (Sir
tholics, so that no public offices should be held except
by Catholics. These were the two strongest points u*
a memorial which he presented to the government. The
others were, the suppression of Protestant books ; the
establishment of a prmtin^-press at Annecy for the cir-
eolation of Catholic pubhcations ; the re-establishment
if tbi eld pariihM tarauirhiRit im dnohj; the netitih

! I

^. ' ;

•f. vwiireti DB lAtn.

tfoD of Qsnrped Gfaurch property ; the restontioB of tht
ehuich of St. Kipi)olytus in the townof Thonon for pub
lie CathoUj worsuip ; the employment of eight actiro
Bissionaries to travel about tue country and preach in
•11 directions, to be maintained out of funds hitherto
paid to Protestant ministers ; and finally, the establish-
ment of a college of Jesuits at Thonon, — that socie^
being' practised in controversy, and best qualified to
carry on so difficult a work. His gi-eat object was to
ose the strength of the state to secure a clear field for
the action of Catholicity ; and at all events to make the
people hear and see it. If only they could be brought
to tliis, he could leave the result in the hands of God.
Thus, in an earlier memorial, ho had recommended that
** churches should be refitted in suitable localities, with
altars very handsomely adoraed ; and that the officee
should be celebmted decently tiierein, and with all the
lolemnities required for the mnjesty of the Divine ser-
vice, even with organs, or other similar thinQ:8, to fiami-
Uarise the inhabitants with the exercise of the CathoUo
reliirion.'' It may be interesting here to mention, that
Francis, as we read in a letter of his to Madame de
Chantal, " knew nothing whatever of music," though
he " loved it extremely when it is apphed to the praisei
of our Lord."

His plan for the restoration of Catholicity, from the
political position of Savoy, was thought danncr, esi)eci-
ally in the fii-st two points, — the expulsion of the Cal-
▼inist ministers, and the transference of 8tat4»-putronage
to the Catholics. I'hese measures the Duke reserved
to a later |)eriod ; but the otiiei's, after some discussion,
were granted. If the Catholic religion was to be esta-
blished at all, less than what Francis asked would not
have sufficed. Tlie ))rinciple of the state being of no
religion, and distributing a certain amount of its assist-
ance to all parties alike, was in those days not so much
ts thought of; and rulers believed themselves intrusted
with power and patronage, not only for the temporal
veU-being of their fubje&^ but «lio for the diveot •»

f*. IT.] fT. nuHon Di SALii. li

▼ice of Almiffhty God. If people admit tbe fairaest of
thifi view ofpublio duty, but Htill complain of Frauoif
do Sales' propositions being severe, they have to show
in what oUier manner any relifpon could liave been es-
tablished. It was precisely a case in which the state
might with the most perfect prudence interfere ; for the
people were so far Catholic as to require only a slight
uonionstmtion of the will of the state to decide their
wavering convictions, and many of them hesitated only
bectuse they tliought that will was not sufficiently
whown. Atlairs bt>in<^ in such a position, it would have
been into]era)>le if a handhd of fanatics had been al-
lowed to check the Catholic tendencies of the bulk of
the Dopulation, ur to restrain them in the fi'ee exercise
of ttiut religion which had been forcibly dispossessed
of its ancient rights httle more than half a century
before.

Fmncis retiuned to llionon, and after ordering
prayei's for the good success of the arduous undertak-
mgy took measures for the opening of the church of
St. Hi))i)olytus at the approaching Christmas of 1590.
llie annoinicement was the signal for an alarming sedi-
tion, which was favoured by the magistrates themselves.
The Calvinists closed the gates, to prevent assistance
coming to the Catholics fi'om the country, surrounded
tlie church of St. Hippolytus, and thraatened to bum
Fmncis de Sales alive m the midst of the town. The
Carbolics, on their part, put themselves in a state of
defence, occupied various strong points, and placed a
piiard at the house of their beloved apostle. The crowd
having dispersed at nightfall, Francis at once sent work*
men into the church. Disturbances agam broke out b
the morning ; and the two parties were on the point ol
coming to blows, when Francis, with that serene couragt
for which he was so remnrkabb came between, and
aildressed the Calvinists in a firm but conciliators
fipeeoh; assuring them that it was no part of the Didce •
plan to deprive them of the liberty of conscience they
injojed, but thtl hi vai ditennimd th« Oatholir

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•honld at leait have one ohuroh in whieh to ttiatHm
their leligim, and tbut he was merely putting the C»>
iholios in possession ot i»hat had been their own foi
many centuries. The CHlvinists hesitated ji dnd at leogfth
%gree4 to a compromise, by which Francis was allowed
to p-Qcee(L pendms^ an ap})eal from both parties to the
Dv^e. Havingp tnus made good his footing in the
church) Francis worked with inconceivable dihgence to
get it ready, so as to celebrate Christmas with all the
splendour possible under the circumstances. He effected
tnis great triumph ; all the Catholics from the neigh-
bouring country poured in to witness the sacred mva-
leries, which had for neaily two generations been oa-
nished from the desecrated temples; eight hundred
people received holy communion from his hands ; and
m tne course of the octave, the inhabitants of three tU-
lages came en mcuae to abjure their heresy in his hands.
The little spark he had been fanning so long was now
indeed kindling into a flame ; the harvest of conversions
was now so abundant he could hardly gather it in ; and
the amoimt of labour in '' sick-calls" became propor-
tionately ffreat, as Thonon and the rest of the provmoe
were ^raaually becoming Catholic, and no priests to
attend to them but Francis, his brother, and a very few
assistants. He preached, he taught, he conversed, he
traversed the district incessantly, dischargmff even the
duties of legal adviser and physician as weD as priest
to his poor people, for whicn nis education at Fadut
had made mm highly con^petent. The day was nut
sufficient for his toils: for he preferred to carry the
Blessed Sacrament to the sick by night, lest the heretios
ihould insult It in the day-time, and so compel him to
have recourse to secular assistance, which he was always
K> anxious to use as Httio as possible. He lay down
for but a short time, most frequently in his clothes, and
^mt the rest of the night in prayer, or in preparing
tus instructions for the next day. Work like this told
apoo his constitut'on in the end. In one of his letters
m nmukBf that joung people an apt to think tlufy

CH. IT.] ST. VllNOIl SB SALIft. §.

mn bear long^ watches, but that they suffer fo? them tf
a later period ; aud he will not allow his penitenu t»
lit up to meditate. Wlien, however, he knew the ser*
Tioe of God retjuired it, he waa not the man to span
himself. " It !s not necessary," he said, ** for me t
live ; but it is necessary for the Church to be served.*'
The following year, 1697, another fiehi was opened
for his zeal and prudence, similar to that which he had
worked so well m the earl^ days of his mission in the
castle of A I lingoes. A re^ment commande<l by the
Count de Maitineugiie was sent by the Duke of Sft*
voy to occupy TLunun, and to act under the advice ol
Francis. The wise and holy missioner only used thie

?reat nower to secure g'ooa order among the troope.
hey nocked to hear his sermons, which he now, instead
of bein{^ controversial, made to tura on the great truthi
of the Chi'istinn religion, and on moral duties, which
would come home to new and old Catholics alike.
Most of them, officers as well as men, made general
confessions ; and they were so delighted with the pre>
cepts which Francis gave them, especially relating t|
temptations that they should guai'd against hereuter.
tliat, at their entreaty, he nut them into writing, ana
added a set of rules tor a (Jhristian life adapted to ti^
military state. It would be most interestmg if thif
were still to be found among* his writings.

Matters were now so far settled at Thonon, that
Francis thought himself able to undertake the tasi
assigned to lum by the Holy Father, luid endeavour ti
convert the great heresiarch of Geneva. It waf> adiffi*
cult business even to get access to him ; for Be«a wa»
then an old man, and his house 'k as daily so throngeir'
by his adherents, that it was hardly possible to hav»
an interview with him without attractmg observation
Francis, however, resolved to make the attempt, an«
prejiared for it, as he did for all arduous offices, by
much fasSng and prayer, and by writing to his Bishop
and chapter, and to all virtuous persons he knew who
wer« fit to bt intanftod with the eeoreti to aik theii

IB tr. vmAiroit di ialh.

pmjen for the htppy terminatioii of the entarprii^
After several ineffectual attempts, he succeeded in ob-
taining an interview with Beza on Easter Tuesdaji
1597. The old man received him with much courtesy ;
and was ^atly agitated during a part of the confer^
ence, particularly when Francis pressed upon him tiie
miestion whether it was possible to be saved in the Ca-
tnolic Church; which Beza, after a severe stnigpgle with
himself, was obliged to admit, notwithstanding the ob-
vious consequence that the Protestant schism was inde-
fensible. 1 hey had two other intemews, in the last ol
which Beza showed himself much softened, having had a
remarkable dream, in which it appeared to him ne was
brought to the judgment-seat or God, and that he ob-
tained a respite for penance by the intercession of the
Blessed Vu-gin. He also was deeply grateful for the
prayers which the venerable Bishop of Geneva had for
years offered up on his behalf. But the iron fetters in
which his position held him were too strong to be
broken by tliese last impressions of grace. The here-
siarch, whom a saint had laboured to convert, diea as
Ve had lived, an alien to the true fold.

During this year, an act of extreme cruelty and
injustice on the part of the Protestante contributed to
streng^lien the cause of Francis. A poor minister of
*Jie name of Galletin, ashamed of the shuffling of his
orethren when challenged by Francis to meet him at
Geneva, came to Thonon himself, and held many con-
ferences with the Saint, which ended in his conviction
of the truths of Catholicity, though not in his couvei-
non. He had admitted, nowever, too much to be for-
given by his co-religionists, who, on his return to Berne,
as it is generally stated by the historians, procured his
condemnation to death.

Francis de Sales now had three energetic assistant!
sent him by his bishop ; two of them Capuchins, Father
Chenibin of Maimenne, and Father Esprit de Baume,
ppjviously mentioned, and a Jesuit from Chamb^rT|
ahmed Saunier. With theie eoclejiiitici andhii ooom

! U

9tL IT.] ST. FBANCIf !»■ SALBt. 6ft

Louif de Sales, he held a council, to deliberate on hit
plan of action, at Anneaiasio, a place on the Lake of
Ueneva, about eighteen iiiilon from Thonon, which had
always remamed faithful to Catholicity. Here, in Sep-
tember of the same year, 1597, he celebrated a solemn
Quarant' Ore, to which no fewer than 30,000 peo) > ;
resorted fi'om all the vicicity. Francis himself, m sur-
plice and stole, accompanied a grand procession, in
which they caiiied the cnicihx fro li Thonon to Aime-
masse, sin^ng litanies and hymns as they marched,
and being joined at each yillage by fresh bands of con-
verts. On this occasion he restored ua ancie:^t cross on
the high-road from Annemasse to Geneva, which 7 ^d
been overthrown by the heretics, and attached t<» i^ •
•arolli with the following verses written by Hinuelii'*

** Ce n'est la pierre ni le bois

Sue le Catnuiiciae adore i
ait le Roi aui, mort en oroix,
De ton sang la croix honor*."

It may be interesting to mention, that among ikm
means he used to attract the feelings of a simple azid
onlettered population, was that of the old mystery-
plays. He made his cousin the Canon de Sales and
nis brother Louis compose a dramatic ])iece of this kind
on the sacrifice of Aoraham ; and when it was acted,
ae himself took the part of iha B*>emal Father. This,
of course, would strike Protestu .'bS as irreverent; but it
is an accusation they ought to be slow to bring against
Francis de Sales. He deubtless felt in this, as in
every thing he uttered, that he was speaking for God's
greater glory, and to do Him service.

In the oegimiing of 1598 the Jesuits were esta-
blished at Thonon, and all went on with the utmost
activity. During a short internal, when Francis was
absent at the casUe of Sfkles iL eonsequonce of an attack
of fever, the ministers ventured on holding a confer-
ence with the Catholic clergy he left at Thonon; but
mi his ratom, disgraotfullj shrank from i*ft"t*«*iiiT*g tha

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•T. nUMCIt DB fALIi.

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disputations. The treaty of Veryins, ratified on Mai
2d of this year, by which the possession of the Chablav
and the bailiwick of Tcmier were ceded by France tc
Savoy, constitutes un c> och which brinf^ us nearly t(
the close of this great act in the career of Francis
As this treaty removed all fearb of these provinces fall-
inp^ into the hands of the Protestants of Beme, the
Bishop determined to celebrate a Quarant' Ore at Tho-
non by way of thankspvin^. After several delays,
this solemnity was celebrated with sreat rejoicing on
September 2(rth; duiing ^he whole time it lasted, pro-
eession after procession entered Thonon from the neigh-
bouring villages, composed of converts who wished pub-
licly to renounce their heresy, and be received into the
Catholic Church. Conversions on such a scale had
probably never been witnessed since the miracles of
Pentecost. Pontifical Mass was celebrated by the
Bishop of Geneva in the choreh of St. Augustine, and
the Blessed Sacrament wait iien carried in triumph
tbrough the principal streets. On the first day there
•rrivM successively bands of penitents from Taninge,
Bellevauz, Bo^ge, St. Cergues, Fessy, and Perrigny,
dad in white, and most or them seeking to be recon
eiled to the Church. On the following day came similar
processions from Cluses, Sallanches, and the mountain-
districts of Faucigny ; then a procession from Bonne-
fille: *.hen a procession of the nobili^ of the Chablaii^
■notiier from Evian, and, lastly, one from Temier.

On September SOth, the Duke of Savoy and tht
Cardinal ae Media (afterwards Pope Leo Xl.), who
had been the chief negotiator m the treaty of Vervins,
•rrived m Thonon ; and the Quarant' Ore was solemnly
fenewed on October 1st, in the church of St. Augus-
tbe, the duke and cardinal, with all the nobles of the
Wurt, assisting at the ceremonies, which were conducted
with extraordinary splendour. There were processions
9t the Blessed Sacrament through the streets, which
wera riohly adorned with tapestry and Terdure; and
•wisof mihlmnitiial azhiVtoBi. m tht i^la of Urn

If
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CB. XT.] fT. nuncu db salss 81

tff«y were rot r p tc express the popular sense of thanlci-

Svin{^. Himlreds oi people kept flocking to make
eir abjuraticn; and the Quarant Ore terminated with
ihe inaug^uration of a cruciAx in a street called, in Ca-
tholic times, " Cross Street," from a remarkable crucifix
which had been overthrown by the heretics. Francia
de Sales preached the sermon on this joyful occasion:
and thenceforward the Chablais might oe conridered
once more, what it has continued ever since, a Catholio
eountry. The very few heretics who remained either
yielded to the very moderate and reasonable exercise
of the civil power, which at last the Duke thought it
his duty to put forth, and which simply amounted to
the establishment of Catholicity as the state religion, to
the exclusion of Protestantism; or else sought refuge ir
the more congenial atmosphere of Berne and Genevi^
The spiritual conquests acliieved by Francis, in the con-
▼ersions we have recorded, were commonly reckoned tc
•mount to 72,000 souls.

The holy missioner now retired to take rest for •
•hort time at the castle of Sales. His father had Ions
■ince acquiesced in his son's heroic undertaking, and
the castle had become a general refuge for those of tht
converts of Francis who were thrown upon the world
Whilst he was on this visit, the venerable Bishop o!
Geneva earnestly pressed him to accept the coadjutor*
ihip, which he had long destined for him. Francis,
like most of the saints who have been called to the
episcopal dignity, long resisted ; and it was only after
rehement entreaties on the part of the bishop, hii
dergy, and all his friends, that he at last perceived it
was the will of Almighty God he should midertake this
dreaded responsibility. Shortly tf»r this, he fell sick
of a fever, from wmch, after nis life for a time was
despaired )f, he wonderfully recovered. During part
of this iUness he was afflicted with terrible temptations
against the faith; especially with a particular omectioa
against the Real Plresenoe of Jesus Corist in the Blessed
flaavamanL th^ fflhitily to which ha did O0t find osl

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m i». nuiroit tm ULmk

dl after bu raooTory. This temptation he at the
•vercame by frequent acts of faith, invocation of th«
Holy Name of Jesus, and the use of the sign of the
Cross. He always revised to tell any one what this
temptation was, except his cousin Louis de Sales, under
a promise of secrecy, — fearing lest weaker minds might
pMoeiye ^iie difficulty more readily than thay could ita

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OHAPTEB T
AVKoumom or vbahois db iaum to nu ooapjiiiimi hi «r

OSmTA— HU VISIT TO Bom.

On hit recoyery, Francis de Sales started for Rome, in
Feb. 1609, alon^ with the Abb^ de Chiss^, nephew and
▼icar*general otthe Bishop of Geneva. Havii^p arrived
at the Holy City, he visited with the utmost ardour of
devotion most of its great sanctuaries ; and, in particu-
lar, his visit to the catacombs was noticed as having
filled him with extraordinaiy sentiments of charity and
consolation. On one occasion, the Abb6 de Ghiss^
found him in the catacombs in such an ecstasy of prayer,
that he scarcely perceived what was passing or who
addressed him; he was shedding tears so proiuselyi
that for a moment his iriend thou&ht that he must
have had some bad tidings from home. This deep
emotion in visiting the catacombs constitutes a remark-
able iK)int of simirarity between the spirit of St. Philip
Neri and St. Francis de Sales. The holy founder of
the Oratorians used to spend whole days in the cata-
combs, in order to penetrate his whole soul with th«
atmosphere of the primitive ages of the Church; and
it was there that Francis learnt to become the very
image of the life of the early bisliO])s and doctors. The
visit to the catacombs which we have described was on
the 13th of March; and it wa« on the following daj^
that Francis was fii-st presented to the Po})e by Cardi-
nal de Medici, who, in introducing him, called him by
the title of " the Apostle of tlio Clmblais." In this in-
terview Francis presented to the Holy Father a great
number of requ<)sts on the pait of his l)ishop, of which
the most intei'esting was a ]ietition for the separation
of the benefices of the Chablais from the military order
•f fiCL MasriM and Lasarui. Ai tha tiinn mam Um

W fT. VKAVOII DB SALIi,

mtj >if Omera ezpelloci its Bishop, aud Calviiusni i
flf^iftbliehed throug'hout the province, Gregory XI IL
bad adopted a very bold but sagacious expeaient fof
keeping the ChvLnih property out of the hands oi the
Protestants; he ti^isi'erred it provisionally from the
elei^ to the Knights of SS. Maurice and Lazarus:
their energy and determination not bei*ig likely to jrield
to the cupidity of the Protestants. They were to give
np the pro{)erty, if ever the Catholic religion should
be restored, ana meanwhile to pay the 8ti|)ends of the
■mall number of priests who were required for the di-
minished Catholic po])ulation. The measure, in the
end, was completely successiiil ; but for a time, as we
•hall see, the selfish desire of the knights to detain the
property after all reason for their provisional ten»u« r*
it hod ceased, gave a great deal ot trouble. By other
trticles in his petition, the Bishop asked leave to devote
% portion of the tithes, offerings, and other revenues, to
make up for the deficiencies in the stipends of the cur^
end to support a certain number of ecclesiastics, to bt
called canons-theological, whose services in preaching
would be especially necessary in a country like the
Chablais, newly recovered from heresy. Various powerk
of dispensation were asik.v'Ml for, in consideration of the
great distance and poverty of the inhabitants. The
most curious, however, of tne articles, to the eye of an
•ntiauarian, is one in which the Bishop demand^ powor
to aoolish the exaction of certam servitudes from the
eubjects of the diocese, which appeared insulting and
painful alike for a Chnstian bisuop to exact, and for
Lie subjects to render. One of these was an old oue-
tom by which the inhabitants on the bordera of the
lake were obliged to keep watch to hinder the frM;i
from croaking, and thereby disturbing tlie rest of toe
prelate. This was a relio of the feudal simplicity of
the middle ages, which the times of course nad long
outgrown^ and which had become only an irritating
■ouxoe of annoyance and humiliation. Among otiur
fwratkiM outome wm tlie right of tho Biibflp to kt

m,r.]

•T. rm^wotf D« tALM.

lole h«ir U* testators who died childlem. It wu the
influence of Francit* which brought about the remoTtl
of these and similar burdens.

At another interview, the Abb6 de Chiss^ |ire-
iented to the Holy Father the Bishop's demand that
Francis should be Lis coadjutor, with the right of 8iio>
cession. This was granted in the most cracious tertnf,
and March the 22d was appointed for his examination.
Francis, as usual at all great steps of his life, prepa.xd
for this event by long meditations at the foot of the
crucifix, by s})ending almost the whole night in prayeft
and by saying Mas^^ for that intention. In his nnu
prayers on this occasion he made the heroic petition to
our Lord, that, supposing he would be a useless senrant
in the episcopal omce, he might pass a bad examina-
tion ana be overwhelmed with confiision. The exa-
mination, indeed, was of a kind to appal any one not
possessed of considerable firmness as well as learning.
It was held in a hall of the pontifical |f/idace, in the
presence of the Pojie, seated on his throne and sur-
rounded by an august assembly of Cardinals, among
whom were Frederic DoiTomeo, Baronius, Borghesa,
and Medici. Bell&rmine was also present, and a number
of less known but still important persons of the day.

Such an effect had this grand sight upon a Spaniih
prelate, who was to be examined on the same occasion,
that he fainted, and was obliged to be taken out. The
ntmost kindness was shown nim, and leaTe wai giveL
for him to be consecrated without the usual exami-
nation; but he actually expired within a few hours.
Francis de Sales was examined by the Pope himself
and by the other great theologians whom we have
named. TKirty-five (j^uestions were put to him on Tan-
ous subjects of the civil and canon law and of theology,
only two of which have been preserved. The fint of
these was asked by Bellaimine, and turned upon tha
Formal cause of the beatitude of the Saints, ir regard to
(rhioh Francis adopted the opinions of those who mam-
Min that it bahnffi to tha iatallMi «ad tht wOl^ plMii^

^jl^MMMMMMM*

Mr ST. FftAHOIt DB lALBB.

H in the ^ore of the superior good which is won, mA ia
the Tision of the Superior Being Who is loved. The
other, which was asked hy the Holy Fatheis reia^d
to the powers of dis|tensation enjojea by Bishops, in
which rraucis expressed a view which his Holineu
Gorreoted, and which Fi-ancis at. once modestly with-
drew. The highest admiration t^ is felt by all at the
manner in whion he passed the exaraiitation; and at itf
conclusion^ Clement VlII., descendir? irom his throne,
embraced the holy bishop electa and BViid in a lour
▼oice ; BihefMi fn«, aqiuitn de cisteifid tud^ etjiamta
fnitei tin ; tisriventur fontes tui joragj et in plateis
aguat iuas dic^de (Pjot. ▼. 16, 16). " Drink, my son,
water out j)f thv own cistern, and the streams of thy
own well : let thy fountains oe conveyed abroad, and
in the streets divide thy waters." The bulls appointing
Francis de Sales Bishop of Nicopolis and coac^utor of
Geneva were expedited on March 24tli ; and the Holy
Father sanctioned all the arrangements proposed by
the holy prelate with reference to the anaii-s of the
diocese, and the reconstruction of the religious esta-
blishment of the Chablais. In this case, therefore, the
delay habitual to the conduct of business in Home was
not extended very far ; though, indeed, Francis praised
that slowness, not only as a proof of the wisdom of
the Holy See, but as giving time to strangers to satisfy
their devotion in the sanctuaries of the Holy City.

Wliilst at Rome, Francis contracted intimate friend-
ship with several of the great men then livin|!; there, such
asBellarmine, Bai'onius, and Giovenali Ancma, the last*
mentioned of whom afteiwards became Bishop of Sa-
hizzo in Piedmont, and was visited thei-e by Fiuncis.
Ancina, like Bnronius, was among the most eminent dis-
ciples of St. Philip Neri; and from them Francis imbibed
much oi the spint of the Oratory, which he calls in his
letterSf preeclarum viuenili modttm. He left Rome on
March 31st, and returned to Piedmont, takmg Loretto in
his way, where he ^ain paid deep and ardent homafft
IP tin Biassad Yirgm in tha Hdj Housa of Ifaiara^

OB. T.J IT. VRANOIS Dl lALIt. fl

where her most favoured children have reoeited lo man}
rraces, and offered up so many tows. He also Tisited
Milan, where he obtiuned the " life" of St. Charles Bor-
romeo, to whom he always had a great devotion, and
by whose example he very much ffuided himself.

On arriving at Annecy, the first affair he had to
transact was the difficult and thorny undertaking oi
transferring the Church-propei'ty of the Chahluis and
the adjoining bailiwicks n-om the knights of SS. Laza-
rus and Maurice to its original destination. Though
the fact tliat these districts were now almost entirely
converted to the Catholic faith was patent and undem-
able, and cense(]uently no excuse could be offered for
maintaining wiitit ti'om the firat was only a pravisional
state of things, yet the knights pertinaciously insisted
that they j)rovided yearly payment for a sufficient num-
ber of priests; when it was evident that the Catholic
population required far more than they allowed. In
the spirit of a mere corporation, they offered the most
vexatious opposition; and no less than two years elapsed
before even the unwearied patience and wonderful tact
of Francis de Sales were able to carry out the arrange-
ments, for which he had obtained the sanction both of
the Holy See and of the government of Savoy.

Another favourite scheme he had devised was, to
remove the seat of the bishopric from Annecy to Tho-
Qon; a change which would nrobabl^ have had a great
effect in strengthening the raith of the newly-revived
population. So many difficulties, however, attended the
cari'ying out of this idea, that he was obliged to give it
up. He succeeded, however, in founding a very remai'k-
aole institution, which he had meditated for a long time^
and the plan of which he had placed before the Holy
See in his visit to Rome. This was an establishment,
which, under the name of the " Holy House," was in-
tended to assist those of the converts in the Chablaii
whose reconciUation to the Church had placed them in
temporal difficulties, as well as for other purpoMt whioh
«• ihall pNMiitly OMorib*

■v. fiAvon Di lAim

CHAPTIB YL

wwnmATum ov ** thb holt Hocn"— tuit to faiis.

It is obyioTis that when such a number of converrioni
had been effected in the manner we have related, casei
of great individual suffering must often have occurred.
Had the whole population oeen simultaneously recon-
ciled to the Church, matters would, of course, havt
gme on after the conversions as they did befora
ut the movement, although ultimately taking in the
entire people, was, as we have seen, a very gradual
i^bir, extending over a number of years. ConvertS|
hereiore, from time to time were tlm)wn out of em-
[doyment, and families broken up ; so that an amount
of distress was commonly witnessed of a similar kind
to what has taken place in England during the last
ten years. Francis de Sales assisted the poor eon-
rerts to the utmost of his power, and was in the habit
ti raising money from his wealthier friends for the
•ame purpose. The necessities, however, which were
daily mcreasing, required some larger and more per-
manent means of relief than private and occasional
charity could supply. There was another reason also
which made it very important that some means of em-
ployment should be opened, adequate to provide for the
oonverts, and in the city of Thonon itself. The con-
tinual communication with Geneva, for the sake of
traffic, service, and business in genei^l; was attenHrd
with great danger to the faith of the pooi converts
of Thonon. The lower classes resorted thither for mer-
chandise, or to obtain places as servants, and the higher
ranks of society (or education. The authorities ot Q«>
neva, moreover, put a sort of premium on apostasy,
bgr holding ovt every kind of civii advantage at tot

OB. n.J VI. FR41fOIl Ol lAbSa* flt

rawtrd of abjuring^ the Catholic religion. On the oiher
hantli the peraeoution to which those inhabitants of Q*>
odva were aubjectod who embraced Catholicitjr, droTt
many into ezue, or plunged them into the depths of
poverty. It was therefore desirable, as far as possible.
to break the connection between the newly-redaimoa

Srovinees and those head-(}uarters of hos^^tj to tht
athoUo Church, by providing for the new converts tlie
means of livehhood at home. Lastly, it was now an
object of the most pressing importance, to educate olergr
for the spiritual provision of the thousands gathered
indeed into the fold, but who were without any thing
like a sufficient staff of pastors to take care of ^em.
The number brought over by Francis and his three or
four assistants required a large body of clergy through-
out the province ; and this, even wnen the difficult of
endowments was overcome, could not be supplied nn-
laii an extensive seminary were created. Tne institn*
tion which Francis de Sales founaed to meet this pur-
pose has been comparatively lost sight of in the lustra
of the great religious order with which his name is
associatM. It was, nevertheless, one of the most in-
teresting kind, and fiill of hints which may be studied
Irith graat advantage in our own times.

"The Holy House," which name he probably ■§-
siffned to it from a devout remembrance ofthe joy with
which he bad virited the hallowed shrine of lioretto^
was a sort of combination ofthe universi^, the religious
oongregation, and the mechanics' guild. As a umver-
sity, it was to supply the means of education which had
been sought for at Geneva; as a religious congrega-
tion, it was to train up a body of priests qualified xoi
eanying on the great missionary work which he had
begun ; and as a mechanics' g^iild, it was not only to
teach various trades to those who might be out of em-
ployment, but also to furnish a market for their laboum
In this respect, the idea of it reminds us of one of tna
most interesting ofthe numerous institutions ofCathdie
Fs«Boa at tha praM&t day,— wa alluda to the (Bmr$ di

,'l

ift -■:

'K 1

■0 ! ;;

M ST. nUNOM OB fALIIb

S, Nicola* at Paris, where poor bojs are taught handi<
eraft trades; and with sucu sunc698, that the institute
itself is not only self-supporting, hut is effeoting won«
ders for the amelioration of what are called the dan
gerous classes. The }loly House, moreover, was it
speneral to furnish a refuge for those converts who mi^ht
be thrown upon tlie world, till some permanent situation
oould he found for them.

It were much to be <ished that we had details as to
the practical working o.' he secular part of this insti-
tution ; but of this we know little, altliou^h the infor-
mation on record as to the ecclesiastical oiepartment is
both copious and interesting.

The estabhshment was founded in virtue of a bull
of Pope Clem-nt VIII. What conrstitutes a very cu-
rious and chanicteristic feature of it is, that it was to
be governed by a prefect and seven secular pnests, woo
wei*e to follow as much as possible the niles of the Ro-
man Oratory. In the statutes dr.iwn up for the Holy
Hon<<e by Francis, it is, in tiict, called " the Omtory of
our Lady of Compassion of Thonon." Tlie holy disciple
of St. Philip Neri, Cardinal Buronius, was appointed its
first protector ; Francis himself being its first prefect.

It was constituttul into a regular universitv, parti
culitrlv on the model of those ol' Bologna and I'erugia,
and divided into four sections, according to the purposes
we have montioned ; the fiist, which was, in fact, an
ecclesiastical seminary, consisting of the above-men-
tioned prefect and seven priests, and jf seven choristers.
The most important of their rules were <i8 follow : The
hour of rising was to be at four o'clock from Easter to
All Saints' day; there was to be Mass every morning:
Hie whole of the Divine Office to bo chanted on fes-
tivals of the first class, and on those of the Blessed
V^irgin; on other days the}' were to chant the three
last little hours, with Vespers and Compline, and alwayi
to observe with the most scnipulous exactness the cere-
monial of the Cathedral of Geneva. All the priestt
wwf to at^dd vrmj Mondaj • oonftrnM «a mtm of

«■ TI.] IT. FBAirOIt 91 lAUIb 61

•ODsdoioe and ooremonies ; tad anothflr on ^leidAy, <m
the tpiritual and temporal adminiitration of the house,
and on the ohserranoe of the rules. Thej i« ere to dine at
a common tahle, never to leave the house without men-
tioning where they were going, and to return in the even>
ing at the ringing of the Angelus. There were to ht
two almoners charged with the distrihution of relief to the
poor. The second department was devoted to preach-
mg, tnd consisted or a certain number of Capuchin
fhars, who were to go about and assist the secular
clergy in that way. The educational department was
at m«t placed under the care of the Jesuits ; afterwai'ds
lay teacners held it for a time, but managed the busi-
ness very indifferently. The Damabites were finally
engaged for those duties, and in their hands the college
prospered exceedingly. The remaining department of
the college was devoted to the new converts, or to per-
sons desurous of instruction. Here the poorest were
taught trades and handicrafts, and put in the way of
gaining their Uvelihood.

Whilst Francis was thus engaged in the very thick
of negotiation and practical labours, his pen was not
idle. In the early part of the year 1600 he completed
a g^reat controversial work, the Standard of the Holy
CroUy in reply to a pamphlet, in which tfie Calvinist
minister Lafaye had poured out abuse against the
homage Catholics pay to the symbol of our redemption.
The book is richly himished with authorities from the
Sacred Scripture, from the fathers fu^d doctors, and is
an excellent storehouse of arguments io* the Catiiolic
reasoner; though less know^ curonfi!<itively speaking,
than the devotional treatises of our Saint.

The same year, a collision between France aiid Savoy
l^aced the pacific conquests of the holy Bisliop in great
danger. By another treaty concluded at Paris between
Henry IV. and the Duke of Savoy, the latter had en-
gagea to cede to the king the marquisate of Saluzzo, •
cLiBtrijt the Dukes of Savoy had seized during the wan
(tf the League, on condition of noaifinf th« pcofinc* gf

10 tr. nUVOIt DB lALUb

La BretM uid tome other disputed posMssIoni. Heni^
IV. baying frilfilled his part of the agreement, the Dukt
of Savoy refused to give up Saluzzo ; and the conse-
quttnoe was, that those provinces of Savoy adjoining' to
France, among whioh were the Chahlais and Temicr,
were immediately occupied by the French forces, under
the command of the Duke of Lesdiguierds, of whom wo
shall hear afterwards. The republic of Geneva, of course,
aided this invasion, and petitioned Henry IV. to extend
the £dict of Nantes to their country, so as to restore
he free exercise of the Protestant relipon, and in all
|irobabihty destroy the results of the nve years of toil
which Francis had bestowed upon them. The holy
Drelate sought and obtained an interview with the great
Henry at the castle of Annecy ; and such was the im-
pression produced upon that wise monarch, both by thi
arguments which Francis de Sales urged for the inte-
rests of Catholicity, and by the charm of his manneri
and presence, that the king promised that no chanffa
■hould take place in the ecclesiastical affairs of tfia
f/hablais. He was treated by the king with the bigheil
jonsideration ; and it was noticed even that Henry IV
held his hat in his hand during the entire conference,—
an extraordinary mark of respect in that age of eti
miette and formality. During the course of this war,
Francis de Sales, having occasion to yisit the castle of
Allinges, in order to remonstrate with the governor,
whom the Calvinists had induced to seize on some of
the Church-property, was taken prisoner by a party of
the French soldiers. Their commander, the Marquia
de Vitry, showed him the utmost reverence, and aided
him in stopping the further inyasion of those righti
which Henry IV. had guaranteed. During the re-
mainder of tne year he was employed in the reconstru^
tion of the parishes m the converted districts; and sue-
fleeded in settling no fewer than twenty-five, in arrange
mg an excellent system of grouping the different parishei
m Uie manner of rural deaneries, in distributing amongst
m dm firoportioF, the prooaada of tht proparsy

TI.J

•T. nu jf en db iiiaib

hitherto held bj the knights of SS. Maurioe tod
roMf and lastly, in apfwintinff priests to each of tht
parishes. In the spnnr of Uie following year, 1601/
be had the affliction oflosin^i^ his father. The bra?!
old noble made a most Christian end: feeling, indeed^
that it was a sacrifice for him, a knigut who had seen
10 man;^ hard-fought fields, to die ingloriously in hif
bed. lake Siward Earl of Northumberland, in our old
history, he wanted to have his armour brought to hiniy
that at least he might die in harness. But these humai
feelings, the result of the chivalrous ideas in which h»
had been brought up, gave place to holier thoughta.
On taking leave of his children, he charged them to re-
vere Francis as their father, and died with the greatest
rebignatr'on and piety, after having devoutly received
the last Sacraments. Francis was absent at the time of
his death, being^ engaged in preaching the Lent at An-
neoy. lie received the news as he was ascending th«
pulpit; but preached nevertheless with his usual calm-
ness, recommftnding, at the close of his sermon, tht
soul of his good father to the prayen of hia fiuthM
flock.

The disputes between France and Savoy were tl
length adjuf)ted by a fresh treaty contracted at Lyon%
by which the latter government yielded to the former,
among other possessions, the important territories to tht
north of the Lake of Geneva, called the Pays de Oex^
belonging to the diocese of Geneva, and containing
thiity-seven parishes, with about 80,000 inhabitants.
The bailiwick of Gaillard, a small district adjoininor
Thonon, was ceded to Savoy bv the same treaty, ana
the Catholic religion re-estaDlished in it without any
great trouble: the conversion of the Chablais having
made the work genei-ally much easier, and there being
still considerable traces of the faith among the people^
among whom Calvinism had only prevailed about sizlj

2 ears. The tenitory of Gex presented a more difficult
usiness ; the repubuo of Geneva making it a strong
pinat to obtain from HtDiy IV. tht ritifiottkn of thw

•T. FRAlfOIf VE tALM.

fminst tenvre of Mreral Tillages, of wMeb they haA
roobed the cathedral chapter of Geneya, and which
would have furnished so many centres of proselytism
throughout the province. The Bishop of Gfeneva sent
Francis de Sales to Paris to counteract these claims of
the Calvinist republic. He was accompanied on his
journey by the President Favre, whose vast legal at-
^inments and hi^h consideration in Savoy, no less
than his ancient fiiendship for Francis de Sales, made
his presence valuable on such a mission. They arrived
ai Paris on Jan. 22d, 1602; and Francis remained there
several months, as the negotiation proved a very tedious
one. Francis presented an elaborate memorial to Henry
TV., demanding the free exercise of the Catholic re-
ligion in Gex, and the restitution of so much of the
Gnurch property as bad been appropriated during the
f^ie troubles. Henry IV. ana his politic minister
Villeroi were very slow in meeting these demands ; anu
Francis had abundant opportunities for the practice of
his unwearied patience ana tact. Yet his stay at Paris
was full of advantage to the Church. The brilliant
court of the French capital was completely carried
away with admiration for the eloquence of the coad-
jutor A' Geneva, or by that indescribable charm which
nis very presence exercised on all who beheld him. At
the request of Marie of Luxembourg", Duchess of Mer-
oceur, he preachad in the church of Notre Dame a ser*
mon at the obsequies of her husband, Pliilip- Emmanuel
of Lorraine, before a princely array of cardinals, pre-
lates, and the great noolesse of Fitmce; on which occa^
sion not only tue eloquence and piety of his words were
admired, but also the exquii^ite pioidence he displayed
in his eulogy of the deceased duke, who, as a cliief ol
the League, had been a tbrmida))le enemy of Henry IV,
During his whole stay in Paris, which' lasted for six
months, Francis was continually p]*eaching, leaving
himself hardly time to eat or sleep; and his seal was
"ewarded by several great converaions among the Cal*
vinift noblMse. One of them was a Countess de Per>

. TI.]

•T, FRANOIf Dl BALU.

dreauTille; who received her first impressions in faTow
of CathoUcity from a sermon preacU by Francis on
the Last Judgment, without the introduction of any
controversial matter at all. Henry IV. himself, one of
the most sagacious observers of his time, was exceed-
ingly struck with the holy prelate, and always snoks
or him in terms of the utmost admiration. '^ M. de
Gendve," said he, "is the very phoenix of prelates.
The rest have almost always their weak side : m one it
is learning, in another piety, in others birth ; whereas
M. de Gendve unites all in the highest degree, both
illustrious birth, and rai'e learning, and eminent piety."
He pressed him to accept a bishopric in France, which
^*Vancis refused ; playfully observing, that he was already
4ian>ied to a poor wife, and must not forsake her for q
licher one : he had taken the see of Geneva, distressed
IS it was, for better and for worse. Such was the de-
lire of the French king to secure him, that he repeated
•he offer no less than five times, and in vain brought
in the influence of others to induce Francis to accept it.
Had he done so, effects mi^ht have followed that are
little thought of. Henry J V. seiiouslv entertamed the
idea of sending him into England, with the view of at-
tempting the conversion of James I. ; and at a later
period, when it was known that that monarch had be-
stowed high praise on Francis' treatise On the Love
of Ood^ and wished he could become acquainted with
its author, the holy prelate eagerly cauffht at the
prospect of his conversion, and would probably have
taken the English mission, but for the Buke of oavoy^i
refusal to allow of his departure.

Tlie influence which Francis exercised on French
society was, however, so great, that his six-months'
visit to Paris left a greater impress on it than other
men could have given in a lifetime. He became the
friend and adviser of the persons most distinguished at
ihat time for vrtue and religion; such as the Cardinal
de B6ruUo, founder of the French oratory, Madame
^.Mrie (iiterwa^'l£> Siftter Mary of the Inoamatioii, w\m

^:L

if)

^^ IT. FRAirOIS DB 8AL1S,

was beatified by Pius VI.), the Duchess de Lonf^ttw'diB,
the celebrated Arnaiild, and others of that stamp. It
was at this period that several of those friendships wert
formed, to which we ewe seme of the most beautiful
and valuable portions of his correspondftnce ; such, for
examule, as that remarkable letter he addressed, shortly
after nis return, to the abbess of the Hotel Dieu, a con-
vent m which the aristocratic spirit of the ag'e had
allowed distinctions to creep in, to the niin of the mon-
astic spirit of }K)veity ; and which he points out with
unrivalled delicacy and kindiinss, and sug-g-ests the
means for accoin})lishinp;' the diihcult undeitiikins' of a
retui-n to the ancient rule. Jt will Ije perceived that
we have mentioned .. uonjif his friends in the religiouf
world of Paris one '"• two wlio afterwards unhappily
became entung-led in ibe Jansenist party. We oug'ht,
however, to recollect, that it was many years before
their real character develop* d itself as they now stand
in ecclesiastical history. Yet ilie instinct of Francis^
totally opposed as it always was to the least shadow
of heresy, led him, lon^ before that fatal spirit had
manifested itself, to reject the apjilication of Ang6Hqi4
AruHuld to be admitted into the order of the Visitation.
Nothing: definite, beyond a certain pride that showed
itself in her disposition, seems to have determined him
U) this ; but it s}i<,«ved in a singular raanner the unerring
judgment by which saints anticipate and repel evil b«-
fore common eyes can detect it.

In general society, too, a powerful effect was pitv
daced by this short sojourn ot a s lint in a city wliich
was then, as now, the voitex of dissipation, as well ai
the centre of religicms acton. Many of those immersed
in the pleasures of the world, dated fi-om his visit
their return to the fear of God. With a patience that
nothing could weary out, with a winning sweetneM
that the hardest heart could not resist, he would watch
hit opportunity to edge in a word just at the moment
when it would be felt; never saying too much, or
hMtrjwg OB •onl* £uter th«& Alnughtj Qod inVuiM

V\i : I

OH. TI.]

fT. FRAHOIf DB flLU.

them to go. In short, the way in which he tnmed to
▼ast account a period of time which, to other men,
would have been but a tedious parenthesis, and accom-
plished a great by-work at intervals, when the work
which brought hira to Paris cotild not be proceeded
witli, is one of the most instructive }»as8affes m his ufrt.
However, his original mission to Paris did receiva ad
accomplishment in some degree. After much harasi*
and delay, in the coui'se of which Francis de Sales wa»
falsely accused of sharing in a pohtical conspiracy
against Henry IV., but out of wliich affair his dignity
and innocence oii)y appeared with the greater lustre,
the French king ended by charging the iiaron de Luz,
governor of Burgundy, to re-establish the exercise of
the Cathohc religion throughout Oex, wherever there
were a suiHcient number of Catholics ; only taking care
to proceed gi*adually, so as to avoid giving alarm to the
Protestants. He also formally took the ecclesiastics of
those districts under his special patronage, and invited
Francis de Sales to choose pastors for the re-consti-
tuted parishes, whose pnidcnce and charity would quap
lify them for the difficult jontion in which they would
be placed. This was not all that had been asked : still
it was something ; and Francis now decided to return
into Savoy, especially as the failing health of the aged
Bishop ot Gleneva m Je it necessary for him to hasten
his coiisecration. The kind and noble old man, who,
without any extraordinary ability, was a model of the
patriarchal simpHcity of bishops of the apostolic days,
died before his saintly coadjutor reached home. Some
time previous to his death, which took place in Sep-
tember 1602, he had the c^ nsolation of celebrating tat
jubilee at Thonon, by whicii the luEiory of its convert
sion was concluded and wound up with a sort of dcstacr^
of rejoicing and thanksgiving. Hundreds of thousancu
of pilgrims of all ranks, m masses numbering one, twoi
or even four thousands, each preceded with orooinz ami
banner as they advanced, poured fiom all the ootintiy
Nondy attkinf tiM AlpiM fiiliyi mimid wilk HhIi

likiii;

i\.

'.■ i

'i '
',

■V. FBAKOIt 91 IAL1

pfoof ehiDts. More thtn a hundred eonfetson were
0ng[aged continual] j at the tribunal of penance; and
alto&'ether 62,000 communions were made in the church
of Ihonon, where, but a few years betbre, it needed the
heroic couraj^e of a saint to venture over from the for-
tress of Alling-es to minister to a handful of Catholics,
who tremblin«^Iy kept ahve the lamp of faith amidst the
darkness of triumphant heresy. l)unnjr this joyful
festival, the " Holy House" was canonically erected by
the bishop, agreeably to the bulls granted oy the Pope,
and united in pen)etuity to the cburch of St. HipjK)ly-
tus, under the title of Our Lady of Compassion, under
whose invocation he also placed the high altar. After
the ceremony, he caused to be inscribed, in letters of
gold, on the vaultinc^ of the church, those words which
on no occasion could more appropriately havo been
uttered : Oaiuie, Maria viraOf cunctas htereset sola
interemuiti in uniuerso mnniio. Could a happier and
holier termination be imagined for the lonr toils with
which thia aged prelate, white with yean, iiad eant^
hii tfferlaftiag orowm f

11^

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CHAPTER vn.

ffSAMOn DB 8ALK8 AM BISHOP OV OBHBTA.

Ill roini iinf^ homewards, Francis de Sales took th«
Pays de Gex in his w^y, where he re-estabHshed five
parishes ; one of them the town of Oex itself, where he
placed as pastor Iiis cousin, Louis de Sales, who under-
took ohe office without salary. He then retii'ed to <ihe
castk of Sales, to make a twenty-days* retreat pre-
viously to receiving" consecration. In this retreat he
placecf himself under the direction of one of the Jesuits
from Tlionon, Father Forrier ; he made a general con-
fession, and, with much fasting" and prayer, drew up t
rule of life for conducting himself in the episcopal office.
This document, which enters into the minutest details,
J still extant; and is silike interesting, both as tlux)W-
mg mto strong relief his personal character and habits,
And as a beautiful conception of the example which a
Mshop ought to exhibit to his flock. He first regulates
iBrtemals, such as his dress and household arrange-
ments: as to the former, he resolves to wear no habits
made of silk, or any more costly material than he had
been accustomed to, but would have them neat and
irell-fittinff ; he would never appear in publis without
rochet aiid mantle, and would always wear the beretta
whether in public or private ; he excludes several ele-
rances made use of m dress by high ecclesiastics of
ttie day, and his only ornaments are the chaplet sus-
pendea at his girdle, which latter he allows to oe made
of silk, and the pastoral ring, which marked the indis-
soluble union ot the holy pastor to his church ; he re-
solves that his tonsure snail always be in a state to b*
extremely noticeable: his beard round, not pointed,
and without moustaones orw the upper lip. As to lubi
hflwsthoidi lit iMolyti to hki% oo wmam «r nqpvAi

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Mmmts : hii hoosehold shall consist of tiro flee1flrf>
astics, one for the management of affairSi and the oth^
to assist in the Divine Oifice; they must be plainly
habited in the Roman dress, or in that of the pnests oi
the seminary of Milan, being the least ex})en8ive. The
remainder of the establishment comprises a secretary,
two valets, a cook and kitchen-boy, and a lackey^
whose livery is to be tawny, with violet borders. None
of them are to wear feathers, swords, long hair as
moustaches, or gay colours, — the u&uu! vanities of the
rufBing serving-men of the time, such as would certainly
have round no harbour in the house of the Bishop of
Geneva. They were to confess and commumcate once
a month, hear Mass every day, and the Divine Office 09
days of obh^tion ; their hour for rising was to be five
o'clock, theu* bed-time ten; previous to which they
were to attend the Utanies, to oe read by the Bishop:
▼is. on Sunday, that of the Name of Jesus ; on Moof
day, of the Saints; on Tuesday, of the Angels: o|
'Wednesday, of St Peter the Apostle, patron or the
ehurch of Geneva ; on Thursday, of the Blessed Saon^
uec^; on Friday, of our Lords Passion; and on S^
tnrday, of the Blessed Virrin. He is particular m
eiactmg CTeat courtesy to be shown by his servante
towards all, especially priests, whether of the inferior
class or not. fiveiy chamber was to have an oratory,
a holy-water font, some devout picture, and an Agmu
Dei; two only were to be carpeted, one for strangen^
the other a reception-room. His table was to be fru-
gal, but neat iund decent ; the priests were to take it in
turns to say grace; and som. [)ook of devotion wai to
be read till dmner was half over, after which convera^
tion was to proceed. The dinner-hour was to be ten;
that of supper, six. Alms were to be publicly giren
on certain days, both to the poor, ana to religious
oruerv like the Capuchins and the Poor Clares, and to
the hospital He lays stress on publicity, for the sako
of example. Special and extraordinary alms were to
W ■dmmifrawri as << tho nnotian"— tho gnat inpwlid

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by his oonMeration — nhoald rankest Then fuHowi •
Ust of the days on wUich the fiishop resolvje to aasift
at the Divine Offices in his cathedral, and of Tarioiu
eonfrutemities at «viiose reli^ous exercises he would be
present as ofter as possible. I'hen come the regfulft-
tions which he lays down for his conduct internally.
As to study, he would take care to be able to learn
fomethin^ every day of a proHtahle kind and suitable
to his profession. To this pui'pose he would generally
devote the time between seven and nine o'clock in the
inomm(2^; ()esides which he would have a book of devo-
tinn read for half an hour after supper, which miflrhi
answer partly for study and partly for meditation. He
would meditate for an hour every momingf. Then fdi*
low resolutions about the presence of God, and about
ejaculatory prayers (to which, by the way, he attached
rreat importance, as an excellent means of makinff up
for lost time, if any thing hindered the usual medit**
tions). He goes on to fix his hours for saying the
Divine Office : he would say Mass at nine o'clock daily;
hear confessions every two or three days, and occasion-
ally himself go to confession publicl^r in the church, by
way of example ; he would fast, besides the days com-
manded by the Church, every Friday and Saturday^
and on all vigils of the feasts of Our Lady, Everr
year he would make a retreat of eight days, in whicK
ne would review his progress, confess his o£fences, con-
fer with his confessor on his difficulties, make many
prayers, especially mental, offer and cause to be offered
many Masses to obtain from Almighty G«d the gracei
he required, nd renew all the good purposes and de-
signs with which Almighty God inspired him. The
time he thought best for this retreat was the camiyai;
not only to avoid beholding the license to which the
neople gave way at that season, but, like our Lord and
His holy precursor, to emerge from the desot to
pi'eaching and good works : but if there were hopee of
withdrawing the people from their dissipation, then hi
would take loiiii ok ^ woeki between EfUlm lad

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Pentecost fbr the retreat, to hare the advantage ci>
the ^^race of those holy feasts, and because affairs were
then less pressing'. Such was his rule of life, which
was signea by his director, Father John Forrier. Bui
although he made out this exact distribution of time,
as an arrangement to which he always aimed at con*
forming himself^ still he did not allow it to entangle
his conscience, ov .interfere with the service of his flock.
He was too wise a man not tc know that '* the torrents
of business," as he calls them in his letters, by which
a bishop is overwhelmed, must often sweep away the
best-devised regulation of hours ; and that, on the other
hand, nothing will be well done unless there is at least
a constant eirort to adhere to rule. Dy this means ha
kept clear both of scru])ulosity and disorder.

His consecration took place on December 8, 1603,
the feast of the Immaculate Conception, at the narish
church of Thonon, one of the noblest of the lorashipt
belonging to the house of Sales. A vast concourse ot
the most distinguished peo))Ie from every pai't of Savoy
were present at this joyful ceremonial. Tlie mother ot
the Saint had taken care to have this church magnifi-
cently adorned ; and she too had prepared by a reti'eat
for this great day, expecting for herself an overflow of
gracoL , when so much would be bestowed on the child
oi benediction whom she had offered to our Lord before
he was bom. The chief consecrating prelate was Ves-
pasian Orimaldi, formerly Archbishop of Vienna; but
who for many years had led a retired and charitable
life at Evian, on the borders of the Lake of Geneva.
The character of the ceremonial was felt by all to be
pervaded by a supernatural sweetness. The countenance
of Francis de Sales af)p6ared radiant like an angel's ;
and he afterwards declared that he had beheld our
Blessed Lady and the holy apostles Peter and Paul
assisting him; and that at each stt^p of the ceremony,—
the imposition of hanos, the unction, the conferring of
the mitre, the gloves, the ring, and the cross, — he law
fUmAj tad divine;!? the Blind Tnaitr workuif !■

CS. TII.J IT. FBAHOIt SI tALM. /?

his toul the effeotA symbolised by those cere m o ni efc
When the oonsecration was over, he returned to the
nstle of Sales, where he spent a few days more m
retreat; and on Dec. 14th he made his solemji entiy
into his episcopal city of Anneoy, where he was reoeiyed
by the authonties and the whole population with great
rejoicin|rs.

He had now entered on the career which made him
what he is in the history of the Churchy and previously
to which, notwithstancung the f^eat actions he had
achieved, and the extensive influence he had acquired,
the purpose for which such graces had been lavished
upon him would not have been fulfilled. The rule of
life, of which we have p^ven an abstract, was carried
out by him with that ming-led good sense and gentle-
ness which governed all his proceedings. He lived at
Annecy in a hired house, pre/ening to do so fwa mo-
tives of humilitv, ratlier than to purchase one for him-
telf. Aftervv ..i-as, however, the President Favre, cm
leaving that city, presented him with the mansion he
had himself lived in. Every tiling in his establishment
was simple, but still elegant; and, considering the vei^
small revenues he had, which did not amount to more
than 3680 fr. a year (not equal to 150/. of our money ),
his ap|)ointments were even magnificent. In this respect
he was the greatest contrast to St. Charles BoiTomeo,
whom he reverenced so much, and who, with a vast in-
come, lived in the utmost external as well as internal
austerity. However, although Francis de Sales thought
it right to adopt a certain degree of dignity in his
household economy, he kept for himself a little dark
and poorly-fumiished apartment, which he playfully
callea the room of '' I* rancis," the others being the
rooms of " the bishop." The house was the very abode
of calmness and peace : it united the stillness and holi-
ness of the monastery with the air of homeliness that
became the palace of the bishop. He goveiiied hii
household with that astonishing sweetness with which
at did eTaij thing, and of which h» had ipant ouibj

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vwn !b the patiflnt aoqniaitioii. There «f};^) beantifbl
miUneee of it at regards thii part of his eoauuot; such
•I his Idndlj allowing his old prejeptor, the iVbb^
Dtege, who uved in his house, to reprove him, as if he
were still his pupil. He secured, however, as exact ao
obeervance or his rules as could possibly have been
obtained bj the method of severity. Female servaiats
he would not permit in his household, nor indeed any
females to enter it, except in the ^Ilery and recention-
room : when urged to relax this rule, at least so far ai
to allow some aged and respectable woman to superin-
tend the linen, ne replied, that he would not permit
even his own mother to live in his house; for tnough
■he was his mother, all the women who would be certaia
to come to see her were not.

The first business which Francis took in hand after
he was settled at Annecy, was to establish a confra-
ternity of Christian Doctnne, and to make catechetici^
instruction his strongest point. He opened it with
•olemii; H:c^h Mass in the church of St Dominic, and
tesLtd fh'n classes himself every Sunday. A more in*
ittra^'uiig fight there could not be than to behold hin^
feated m fi^nt of the altar, teaching the little ones,—
the girls on one side, and the boys on the other. Ha
took the g^reatest pains with it, making Bellarmine's
latechism his basis, and working it in every possible
ray with the most familiar explanations, repeating
3wr and oTor again what he had said, till he was quite
ifttisfied the children understood it He encouraged
them with prizes, sucb $>s medals, rosaries, and prayer-
books; and very seldom used reproofs. The instructioa
ended with 8in{^ng hynms in French, several of which,
•ays our biographer, ** were of his own composition."
8t Francis, ooweyer: says, in the preface to nis TVm-
iue on the Love of Ood, in speaking of Despores'
metrical Torsion of the Psalms, that he himself ** 1 ad
never so much as thought of this style of writing.**
He ma;|r not, however, have considered the hynms m
had wnttn iut ehiUrao worth mantioning ai an €■

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aeption to thii. The catechetical inttnutioiui beeaiiM
▼ery popular in Annecr, and ^ruwn-up people resorted
to thorn in such numbers, that he was obliged firat to
open the side-chapels of the church of St. Dominic, and
afterwards two other churches, to accommodate addi-
tional classes. Twice a year he made a festival for th«
children, and went thror -h the city with them procei*
donally, sinking lita The influence his kmdnest

gained over toem t' that he never came forth

without the children ut from every nook and

eomer of the streets tc iu«. u. > blessing or kiss his robe.
He was followed by troo^^i of them, so that his friendi
complained of it, as the i -iciples did to our Lord; and
they received from the Luiy bishop a similar answer:
'* Suffer them to come," ho said ; '' they are my litUo
^ple." He caused the p nests to eive catecoetical
Jistructions every Sunday tnroughout nis diocese; and
exhorted such priests as were without benefices to de-
^te themselves to this duty, giving them letters signed
jy himself to authorise them to catechise with permii-
Bon of the jparish-priests.

He took immense pains to secure good priests for
kia parishes ; and would fill up no vacancies except l^
a etneurtus, or examination, conducted by a council of
his best and most learned ecclesiastics. He drew up
tnr the use of his clergy an admirable set of instnio-
dons on the Sacrament of Penance, entitled Avertisse-
menji aux Confesseurs, which had also a wide circulation
n France and Italy; and he put forth an exact and
well-devised ritual tor the use of the diocese of Geneva^
based ou the Homan liturgy.

During this first year of his episcopate, his tact and
wisdom were shown in a wondenul manner by the re-
form he effected in the abbey of Sixt, an Augiistinian
monastery among the mountains of Faucigny, which had
fallen into such a state of relaxation ^iiat tne abbot did
not even know whether he was commendatory or titular,
that is, whether he was or was not bound to keep the
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di8 €Bt«t of thoir obligations. In spite of Btron|g^«ppi
ntion on the Murt of the abbot, he g^radually and gentl|
rs-estahlishea monaitio discipline in the communitj^
though, as we shall see, kreguiaiiij again crept in, ami
towwds the dose of ms lira he was obliged to renew
his exertions to oomiilete this «form.

On Oct 2d, 1600, he opened his first diocesan synody
at which he establislied a yariety of excellent rtdes for
the ffOTemment of the diocese; one of the most important
of wnich was, to divide it into twenty districts, odleG
iungiUanees. Over each of these he placed one of the
most experienced of the parish-priests, whose duty it
was to visit all the parishes of tne surveillance once in
fix months; to hoL a meeting of all the parish-priests
twice a year; and to give a half-yearly report to the
bishop or the exact skate of e ery courch, every parishu
•ad of the conduct of each parisn-priest The result m
this and of the other statutes he issued was, that he
acquired the most perfect knowledge of his widely-ex-
tended diooescL and brought its aoninistration to av
extraordinary oegree of perfection. It will be interesting
here to mention the sources from which he majr be sup-
posed to have derived his views of the duties of a bishop.
Having occasion, in 1603, to give his advice to a newly-
consecrated bishop, he recommends him first of all, ror
his individual improvement, to study the works of Gre-
nada, ''as his second Breviary;'' to read them ''with
reverence and devotion;" and to ruminate them chapter
after chapter widi much consideration and prayer. Next
to Grenada, he advises the works of Stella and Arias^
the Confessions of St. Au^tine, Bellentani, a Capuchin
writer, Costerus, the Spintual Letters of Avila, and the
Epistles of St. Jerome. In the conduct of affairs, he
recommends Cardinal Toilet's Cases of Conscience, the
Morals and Pastoral of St. Gregory, the Epistles and
Books de ConMderatione of St. uemard ; the Stimnltu
Pattarum of Bartholomew de Martyribus; the Decreet
tf the Church of Milan as indispensable ; the Life tl
Ml GharlM Bonoineo; and abov* all, ho adviiei him U

Hf9 tSmyy^ to bit baadi tha Coundl of Tnat vod fm
f (Atflehism.

Throughout this period, ana indeed during all tot
oiscopate, the affairs of Gex me him a great deal ot
irouhie ; the policy of Henry 1 V., notwithstanding tha
bvour with which he regarded Francis, and the mo-
mises the holy Bishop managed to extort from nimy
being very much influenced by a fear of offendin^f hii
Protestant subjects and the neighbouring repubho ot
Geneva. Ilence it was with much diificulty and bj
slow degrees that Francis was enabled to nooBftraflt
o MTtain number of parishei in that diitriat

•T. f EAVOIl DB lAUii

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rma or v&AXcif di tAua to dmon— hu DiMonoa tv turn

VAAMCEt DB CBAMTAL.

In 1603, the Schevintf or magistrates, of Dijon inTiteo
him to preach the Lent ia that city ; an invitation whiob
he the rather accepted, as it gave him the opportunity
of adjusting 8{:^e aifficulties connected with the Chnroh-
proi)ert J in Gex, which Henry IV., forgetting the grant
ne nad ahre^dy made of them for the endowment of thi
parishes, assigned to Andr4 Fremiot, councillor of the
parliament of Dijon, whom he appointed Archbishop
of Bourges. At Dijon, as at Paris, the preaching of
Francis de Sales produced an impression une(^ualled in
those times. The visit, however, led otherwise to re-
sults which constitute it the most important epoch oi
his life, and to which we shall find it necessary to devote
considerable space of this outline.
Whilst he was preaching the Lent at Dijon in
1603, Francis de Sales first made the acquaintanoe of
Jane Frances de Chantal, in com^ don with whom he
ifterwards founded the Oitler of Visitation, which
is the most perfect reflex of his spiirit; and the history
of which, even after his death, may be said to be a con-
tinuation and developmer.t of his own. The characters
and actions of the holy women who fiffure in its early
history were so completely formed hj the teaching'' and
example of the Saint, that whoever wishes to understand
him must study their biographies, of which there are
such copious mrterials, as much as his. The smallest
anet^ote relating to them throws liffht on Francis;
for f;heT lived in nis atmosphere, and, uke Mary at the
feet (uf Jesus, laid up in tneir hearts whatever he said.
He founded the order in a twofold manner: first, hj
starting th« idaa of ao isftitation so reqnigita m tha

was in iho Catholio Clniroh; and second] j, bj moulding
and direeting another mind of kindred heroism to oarrj
out his idea. To us it appears that this circumstance
throws his greatness into stronger relief than any thing
else we have to tell of him. We judge best of the
power of one mind bj obsenring the (»dibre of othei
minds which it is able to influence and control, ior
instance, in the history of this world, great as the first
Napoleon is if considered by himself, he becomes far
greater when we consider that his marshals and depen-
dent kines were themselves great men, and ^et mani-
pulated Dy him as his instruments. In the rise of the
Visitation, we see the wonderful sight of the gradual
formation, and, so to speak, the spiritual education, e
one great saint, to execute a work projected by another.
We nave the whole process oompletely before us front
the first; and it must not be supposed that the cast
is less extraordinary because a teminine mind might
easily be captivated and subdued by the naturally sup»
rior reason of a man. Jane Frances was one of those
women of whom French history affords so many ex-
amples, who in clearness of intellect, strength of wOI,
and greatness of characier, were fidly on a level witn
the loftiest minds of the stronger sex. As far as the
possession of these characteristics goes, she might have
ruled a kingdom ; and her letters show a grace and ao
elegance, both of thought and style, that prove hmr
powers needed only to nave had a worldly instead oi a
spiritual direction, to have equalled in composition such
a writer as Madame de Sevign^, who was her grand-
daughter. The Uves of these two saints are so closely
associated, that it is difficult to view them apart; and
from the time they met to the death of Francis, who-
ever would be the complete biographer of the one, must
also record, almost equally at large, the actions of the
other. Both of them had precisely the same settled
object of Ufe : and the one was far more the product and
expression or the mind of the other, than the most peiw
M pietnit if the image of thevtiit^iioiil: ftriatiM

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pifltim the titist himself alone ttriTes to embody hli
oooeeptions ; the picture is inanimate, and cannot oo-
operate widb the will of its inventor. But in exael
Droportion to the desire of the holy prelate to train and
mshion the noble soul Almighty God intrusted to hiii
oaroy so that she might best fulfil the work for which
■he was designed, did that soul of herself co-operate
with his purposes, eagerly drink in the lessons of hia
wisdom, and strive to become the peifect copy of hii
saintliness. But the brief limits of the present sketch
will not allow us to delay. We proceed to give an out>
line of the earUer years of Jane Frances, and of the ori*
gin and leading features of the order of the Visitation.
Jane Frances de Chantal was the daughter of B^
nigne Fremiot, president of the narliament of Dijon, an
illustrious member of one of tne best families of tfaf
%ohlesM de la robej whicli was held in such considera*
tion in old France. S)ie was born in 1572, and at an
^ly age married the Baron de Cliantal, a nobleman of
Burgundy. Their mamed life affonis a beaiitiftil pio»
lure of domestic society among the country noblesse of
that period in France. The feudfU manners are still
risible; but softened by modem refinement, and yet
more by the gentleness and diligence of the true Catholil
wife. Althoiif^h in such high life, Madame de Chantal
dressed v^ry plainly, only in linen and woollen, except on
festivals, wiien she wore the more 8])lendid attii'e she
had brought with her to her husband*s house. And
yet, when she wore nothing but camlet and serge, " it
was with such neatness, gmce, and pro])riety, that she
looked a hundred times better tiian many othei's who
their families to wear head-<lresses." She rose

nun

very early in the moniing, and had completed all her
househola armngements before her husband was up.
She had the family chapel repaired, and Mass said in It
regularly ; always taking special care, if her husband
liad to go out hunting early on a summer's morning,
to make him and his attendants hear it before starting,
ttie deetro jed an j bad booki aha found about the hoait;

«■. Tin.] ST. nuHou si ialm. M

li«r tfwn usual readinr was the XtvM 0^ the Samtt, and
lomedmes the AnnoM ofFrancef or some other useful
history. Her charity to the poor was unhounded, and
down for miles round the castle, especially durinr a
terrihle famine, when she distributed food to them daily.
A oarrel of com and a little rye, which at one time was
idl sue had left in the granaries, was miraculously mul-
tiplied for six months. The fact was related to her
biogitipher by some of the servants who knew of it, and
also by Mad. de Chantai herself, when her nuns after*
wardh entreated her to tell them the whole story. She
alwa^b ascribed the mirncie to the devotion of a holy
servant of hers, named Dume Jeanne, in whose prayers
■he placed great conHdence. A very pleasing' instance
of that leuoal tinrre to which we referred above, occun
in the anecdote of her releasmg, during the night, pea-
sants whom her husband had imprisoned in the damp
lungeons of the castle, he, apparently, having what the
good Darun Bradwardine called the right of ** pit and
nillows." Very early in the mornmg, before M. de
Ehantal was up, she would cause the prisoners to retire
to their dismal quni-ters, and then beg her husband to
dBt them oiT, which he generally did at her gentle en
treaties. She scarcely erer changed her servants; and
her house, pays the biogi-apher, "was the abods of {)eace,
of honour, of {loliteness, of Christian piety, and of a truly
noble and innocent cheerfulness."

After living thus happily for some years, Madame
de Ghantal was suddenly bereaved of the husband she
loved so well. Tlie baron lia{)pened to go out shooting
one morning with a relative of his, M. d^Alzury; and
having occasion to creep through some bushes in pui'suit
of his gniiic, M. d'Alzury, at a distance, imagining it
was a aeer, drew his arquebuss in that direction ?for
guns were as yet rarely used), and M. de Chantai im-
mediately fell mortally wounded. He survived a few
days, and expired in a most devout and Christian man-
Mr, wholly forgivmg the friend who had unintentionally
fMMid hii dtatiii, sod char gip g bia widoif to tftko ■§

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ftopi tninit him. Madame de Chantal, wlw wai pah
lionatuy attached to her husband, was overwhelmed
with the most agonising grief, which continued for a
loDflr time. This was an immense sacrifice, and othei
trius were at hand. After a short visit to her father^s
at Dijon, she and her four children removed to Mon>
ihelon, the seat of her father-in-law, the old Baron de
Ohantal. He was seventy-five years of age, and of a
most severe and repulsive temper ; add to which, he
was completely under the control of an ill-conditioned
•ervant, to whom he had intrusted the whole manage-
ment of his house and affairs to such an extent, that
Madame de Ghantal, admirable as were her business
talents and skill in the p^vemment of a family, was al*
lowed no sort of authonty in the place, not so much al
to give a drink to a messenger without permi^fiion. lliii
woman also had five children, who had the run of the
house, and were put on a lev^ with those of Madame
de Ghantal She set the mini, of the weak and irritable
old man against his holy daughter-in-law ; and amongst
them, the latter led sucn a Hie, that her biographer culs
it a purgatory of seven years and a half. Notwithstand-
ing, she repaid good for evil, and took the trouble to
teach the cnil(h«n of the housekeeper to read, and even
sometimes washed and dressed them with her own
hands. She was, however, allowed to continue her good
Affioes to the poor ; and kept a store-room in the house,
appropriated to her medicines, ointments, and other
femetues, so neatly arranged, that it became a proverb
throughout the country to say of any thing in partioa-
brly good order, C^est pr&pre et bim rangS, comme la
\outique de Madame de Ckantal.

A mind thus, like Madame de Chantal's, corres-
■onding with divine grace, could not fail to be led on
ftuther ; and resplendent as her virtues were, she was as
jet only at the commencement of her career. Yet, as
the glories of the natural day are prefigured by the
•arly rays which gild the distant mountain-snmmitk
tiMNWMii IB hir mmd |ifoph«ti«isstiii0ti which foratoM

«■. Tin.] ST. PRANOIS DB SALES. 89

wliftt was to ooms; and which received jean after their
fhlfihnent and completion. She was haunted with an
ardent, inextinsuishable longing to find some wise di>
rector who could tell her certainly what was the will of
God with regard to her, and whose counsels she might
follow with unhesitating obedience. She had a vision of
a very remarkable kino, in which it was not only shown
to her that her wish woiUd be accomplished, but she even
beheld the very person who was destined to lead her
through the difficult paths which she was to traverse.
One day, whilst riding in the fields, she saw standing
at the root of a hill a man of amiable and august ap-
petraaoe, habited in ecclesiastical dress, and holding a
Dreviary in his hand. At the same moment it was re-
vealed to her that she now beheld the director whoit
God intended for her. Long after this, on the first
oocasion when she saw Francis de Sales at Dijon, sh|
recognised in him the very features of the person sha
had seen in her vision. Other revelations or superna-
tural anticipations began to visit her. Thus it was
conveyed to her mind, that ** through the gate of St.
Claude" she was to find peace and comfort We shall
see, as we go on, what those words meant, which she
knew not at the time. Again, on another occasion, i»
the ohapel of Bourbilly, she s'^\ a brilliant army of d»
voat virgins and widows, and ^a'l told that of tuat hei^
venly company she was to be the mother. The first oi
these propnetic dawnings of the future was so vivid
that, tnirty-five years after, she remembered it as dis^
tinctly as if she even then saw it with her bodily eyes.
What makes all of these the more striking is, that about
the same period Francis de Sales, with whom she was
then quite unacquainted, had revelations of an ana^
logons description, in which he beheld in prophetio
vision the appearance of the holy foundress, ana received
by divine illumination the idea of the order which he
originated.

After passinff a lona time in a ttate which would
b»f« bMD aam « hwrniui aaxktj and uoirtainiji btf

n ft. FBAirOIS DB lALlib

far thtl deep tranqnfllitj which erer reiffni m the li^
molt heart of the saints, Madiune de Cliantal wai it
length induced to place herself under the direction oft
Capuchin monk, a good and learned man, but who proved
hunself singulai-ly wanting in that wisdom and discretion
which is requirea for the conduct of souls. He hena
by making oer take four tows : first, ever to obey him
implicitly ; second, never to change him ; third, to keep
secret all he *jo\d her ; and fourth, not to confer about
her conscience with any one but himself. His method
of direction was equally ill-advised. He burdened her
with all sorts of observances, particular devotions, prayers^
fasts, vigils, which kept her continually hampered, and de-
prived bier of all the liberty of spirit essential to advance-
ment in the spiritual life. She had had from the first •
iecret repugnance against taking him for her directory
and his narrow, harassing system, based as it was on •
nrinciple which no confessor had a right to dictate tc
nifl penitent, kept her soul in a state of disquiet which,
added to all her other crosses, was indeed a Aimaoe fit
to try the purest gold. These very trying circumstanoea
lasted for about three years; for Jane Frances, with
that prudence which belongs to the saints, knew that
we ought to be in no hurry to change any state in which
we find ourselves placed, and which is not sinful. How*
tver painful it might be, she patiently endured it, till
•be was quite clear that it was the will of God it should
be changed, and changed, as is most usual wher'^ stefw are
taken agreeably to that will, not by any one sudden and
violent act, but gradually and sweetly ; one event leading
f^f and as it were melting into anotoer, like the coluiin
in a beautiful and harmonious landscape, llie beginning
of her release from this captivity was occasioned by
Fraacii iz &^1««' ^mt to Dijon in 1603. He was
preaching the Lent in the cathedial of that city, and
Madame de Chantal attended his sermons. She reoogb
Biied in him the very person whom, years befc re, she
liad seen in the vision we have rehited. as the appointed
gwdi w]Mm AJmif h^ God mtnded to toko ohaift

«■• ▼IIL] it. FBAlfOIS Ol lAUl. If

•f ber Mill. Francis noticed her particniarlj, u ilil
Mt in front of the nulpit: — a lady of that grace ana
dig^ty which, in tuose days, distingpuished hur rank
from others as much almost as if they were different
classes of the 01*6111100, and yet habited in a widow's
garb of the humblest materials. On his return to th#
palace, he inquired of his host who she was; and the
Loly prelate was amused to find she was the sister of the
Archuishop of Dourgea, and the daughter of the Presi*
dent Fremiot, of whom he asked tne question. He seema
at once to have sinprbul her out, with that unerring eye
by which saints know who are best qualified to aid them
in carrying out their great purposes. On the very first
occasion on which he met her at the archbishop's, he
tried her spiiit of obedience by hinting to her to leave
iff, one after another, some of those ornaments which,
diough dressed in the gravest habit belonging to a lady
if her rank, Madame de Chantal still retained. She
^mediately and joyfully complied. The entanglement
of the vows which her unwise director had induced her
to take, checked the ardent wish she almort directly en*
^rtained of opening to this wise and holy adviser the
Itate of her conscience, and of asking his heaven-inspired
lounsels. Could any cross be imnrnned more painful
«han for a holy soul to be in doubt of her coui'se, — to see
before her, and to recognise, the person who had the clue
to all her difficulties, and yet to be bound down and pri*
8oned-in with a fourfold vow taken in obedience ? It might
hsvw 1)een thought that nothing could break through
■uch a superincumbent weight on the mind ; vet, by
the grace of Almighty God, the evil worked its own
remedy. The director hapjiened to be alisent fi-om the
titj; tliough, as if to demonstrate his unfitness for such
an office as guiding a great soul in its way to heaven,
he had left a ])erson in charge to watch his penitent, lest
■he should have recourse to any one but himself. Ma-
dame de Chantal, however, being under extreme anzietr
and distress, did what the insf>iration of Heaven, as weu
M that liberty which no directoi could lawfdlj leetnii^

'I'.

1 ,

1 .'■■
4'

s'i ■

;}!'*

M ft. FEAVen DK lALIt.

■ttthoriMd Imt in doinr; ihe htd an iiit«r?i0W wiU
ynaOMf in which. Although hindered from fpeaking
half what she wished by the terrors of her 'ow, she yet
to some extent relieved her mind, and insiai 'j felt shi
had done right by the tranquillity which came upon her
spirit from the wise advice he gave, and fiom tiiat at-
nosphere of peace which reigned around him. Before
his departure from Dijon she confessed to him. and re-
ceived the holy communion at his hands. This she
seems to have been allowed to do ; what h( r director
had attempted to prevent was not her occasionally going
to another confessor, — for Father de Villars, rector of the
Jesuits at Dijon, was her confessor, — but her placing her-
self under any direction but his own. The change d
directors was not accomplished without a good deal d
aelay. No state, not unlawful in itself, ought to be
changed without a great deal of consideration and prayer
Mad. de Chantal knew this well, and would doubtlefli
nave endured throughout her whole life the martyr-
iom of having a director who did not understand her,
if she had known this was the will of God. Francis,
moreover, was eminently hostile to any thing like hasti
or flurnr ; his favourite word was peaetentim, ** by de-
grees ; '' soon enough if well enough.*' His method
m this case, accordingly, was not to make any violent
break in the existing state of things, but to allow oni
state to merge into another, making no visible altaraticm
tdl die will of God was completely ascertained after long-
continued prayer; in which he secured, according to ma
wont, the co-operation of others.

On his departure from Dijon, Madame de Chantal
remained in tranouillity, abandoning herself entirely
into God's hands. However, on Whitsun-eve, forty days
after he had gone, she was suddenly assailed by a storm
of spiritual anguish, her soul being divided between an
earnest longing to place herself under the guidance of
Francis, and a scrupulous fear of leaving her former
director. Father de Villars, whom she cons olted, with
gntt dadiian advised the farmer count. ^It ta tha

nn.]

ir. VKorai am fAum

will of Oody** b« Mid, ^ that too phos ymanelf iiiid«
Uw direotion of the Bishop of Uenert : he, and not the
gnide jaa at preMnt follow, is adapted for you ; he hai
m& spirit of uod and of the Church, and Divine Pro-
▼idenoe wills something great trom you in giving that
terrestrial seraph for your conductor. Woros like these
showed what an extraordinary impression the holy Bishop
produced on those who saw liim. Father de Villan,
years after, in writing to Francis de Sales, said that
God had given him ** so strong an impulse to assure
Madame w Chantal that it was by the channel of hia
lips that Heaven willed to fpve her the waters of tba
Samaritaness, that had the angels come to dissuade him
from this, he did not think they could bave succeeded,
because the impression came from the i^ing of the an-
gels." However, she remained under her first director
ror a few months, and even, under obedience, renewed
the vow he indiscreetly exacted from her. These trials
It length came to an end. On St. Bartholomew's day,
1604, the two saints met at St. Claude, — thus fulfilling
the vision in which it had been revealed to Mad. de Chan*
lal, that by ** the gate of St. Claude" she was to find
/est: though both were brought thither for other appa-
rently accidental occasions. Madame de Chantal with
sreat simplicity and candour revealed her whole soul to
Francis, lie hstened attentively, made no answer what-
ever, and thus they parted. Early next morning he
called upon her, and said that, after having spent the
whole mght in prayer and reflection, he had concluded
it was Ood's will he should undertake her direction, that
her four vows were of no avail but to trouble her con-
science, and that his long delay was only caused by hit
wish to know thoroughly the will of God, and to nave
nothing done in the affair except by His hand. " 1
heard him," said Mad. de Chantal in after-times to hm
nuns, "as if a voice ftt)m heaven had spoken to m0|
he seemed to be in a ravishment, so recollected was h&i
and he kept seeking for his words one after another, ■■
haling a oifficnlty in ipeaking." 8ha thm madt hm

i^ll

'^ >

•i tr. FBAVon in tAiBi

mntral wnfeRdoii; and a vow of obedience to him } and
Ee wrote her ort a method for passing the day devoutly^
and ehangfwl her manner of meditation, xrhlcn had been
harassing and difficult ** Fram tliis day (it was the
festival of St. Louis, August C5) she began to enter into
the interior repose of the childi'en of God, into a great
interior liberty, and was attracted to a sort of prayer,
altogether cordial and intimate, which leads to a holy
and respectM familiarity of soul with the heavenly
Sponsor.

The letters which Francis wrote to Mad. de Chaa-
tal, and which from this penod form so large a part
of his correspondence, are, as we need hai*dly tell our
readers, a r(>))eitory of asceticiU and practical wisdom,
such as it would be hardly ])ossible to Hnd eoualled in
the whole body of ecclesiastical literature. The rulei
of life which he projioses to her, and from time to time
modifies as she needs it, the continual application and
development of two or three grand maxims, the pru*
dence with which difficulties and temptations are con-
stontly met, and the rich abundance with wliich traits
of personal character come out, and the great and Uttle
trials of domestic life in the CnthoUc circles which sur-
rounded the two Saints (for, as we shall see, their fami«
lies became connected), — all give a wondeiiid interest
to these beautiful old French letters.

In May 1605, Mad. de Chantal paid a visit of foni
days at the cliAteau of Sales, where she again had an
opjx)rtunity of confening with Francis on the state of
her soul. On this, as on tlio former occasion, he drew
out for her a set of niles regulating the whole method
of her life, marking out her devotions, fixing her ho'irs,
and sugg^ting the princiitles on which she should en-
eounter temptations. Wuen she returned home, she
almost immediately commenced the system he had pre*
scribed to her. We here set down briefly her order of
life, as she copied with the greatest exactness the idet
of perfection which he suggested to her, as a lady itiU
UfiBg ill tha world, and having all thaotrns cf a nmilj

OB. Till.] fT. nuHcn vm uLmk M

upon her. She rose eTenr day at firey and earliear in
summer, lighted her oaiuue woen it was needed, and
went to her oratory, where she spent one hour in mental
prayer, and said her daily prayers, after which she com-
pleted her toilette without attendance, and without a
fire, no matter how cold it might be. She then heard
her children m,j their prayers, and afterwards went to
bid good morning to lier cross-grained old father-in
law, and assisted aim to dress, if lie was in the humour
to allow her. She heard Mass every day, and on Sa*
turdays had a special Mass said, wmch, with Francis'
pemussion, she uad vowed to the Blessed Vii'gin. A
regular part of her daily occupation was to teach hei
ciuldren, and those of the housekeeper, from whom sh4
had to suffer so much, their lessons and catecliism. Tf>
spiritual reading for herself she devoted half-an-hoi4
a day. Each dav she made a spiritual retreat into one
of the Wounds of^our Lord, re-entering into it especially
in a short recollection before sup))er-time. She then
«aid her chaplet, which, under a vow, she persevered in
throughout her hfe. In the evening, after supfter, H
thera was no company, and the old baron allowed her,
she assembled the household, and read some profitable
instruction. She ended the day by saying with her
children and attendantis the Litany of our Lady, and a
J)e prujumli* for the repose of the soul of her deceased
husband. Then came the examen of conscience, and
the recommendation to the angel-guardian ; after which
she gave holy water and the blessing to her childran.
She still remained at prayer for about half-an-hour,
concluding all with reading the subject for the next
day's meditation. Her favourite devotion was to visit
in spirit each portion of the Chiuch, congiatulating
that which is triumphant in heaven ; supplicating for
tiie mihtant Chui'ch on eaith; and applying for the
Church suffering in purgatory her sutli'ages, prayers^
iod indulgences. The above-mentioned practice of re*
tirinff each day into one of the Five Blessed Wounds, to
whim the addM the scan left by tht Crown of Thonuk

m i

f'J

I '.'■

m : .i

!*'

H ST PBAirOll DB tAUNi

WM a source of speoial grace to her. ^It me her a
spiritual view of God in all thrngs, and a hoW indifPer-
ence, so as in all diversities of creatures, anairsy and
events, to find her one only Good." Her daily reading
at this time was the Exposition of the Gospels hj the
Carthusian Ludolfiis, called 'Hhe great Vita Cknstif*
she also was paiticularly fond of the metrical version
of the Psalms by Philippe Desportes, abbot of Tiron,
li-om which Francis de Sales continually quotes in hit
T^reatise on the Lmse of Ood»

She early began to entertain an ardent desnw to
leave the world, and addict herself to some religious in-
stitute. That of Mount Garmel sug^^sted itself; and
she often had ladies who wished to jom that order stay*
ing in her house. The holy director, however, follow*
ing his usual method, by no means encouraged a hasty
decision. He implored the Divine light at the holy
Sacrifice, and had prayers offered up by devout personsi
All he could say at first was, that one day or other sha
should quit every thin^ ; but whether to ent r religion or
not, he left undetermmed. He said that he had never
placed his own inclination in a state of such indifference
ts in that question ; but, so far, ^' the ' yes* could not
fix itself in his heart, and the * no' was present there
with much firmness." This state of uncertainty went
on till the Whitsuntide of 1607, m^en Madame de
Chantal went to Annecy to advise with him on her spi-
ritual affairs. After keeping her some days in douDt,
he tried her obedience by proposing, one arter another,
several religious orders and institutes for her to enter
upon ; she numbly accepted each apparent chai^ of
purpose he expressiBd ; and at last, when he had satisfied
nimself of her submissiveness to the will of God, ha
unfolded to her very fully the idea of the Order anar-
wards called by the name of the Visitation, which ha
had matured in his mind, and in the foundation oi
wluch he knew Almighty God intended bar to co-
operate with him.

It will be sufiidant in this plaoa to state bnrfiy tka

1. Tin.]

IT. VB41ICI1 OB •AIM.

(ttindptl oljeots of this Order, which we duJI tfter
wards develope when we have gone through the moif
interesting points connected with the history of iti
foundation. Francis intended it to supply wnat had
hitherto beea a deficiency in the conventual institu-
tions. All that had hitherto existed were such as
the delicate and wealthy could with difficult/ enter
there were severe fasts or vigils, or other corporal aus-
terities, which no person of a feeble constitution could
undertake without danger. Thus a whole class of the
most devout and lowly-minded women were excluded
from all hope of the religious state, for which other-
wise they might be exceUently qualified. Francis de
Sales, therefore, projected sucu cui Institution as would
welcome the infirm, the sickly, or the aged, as well as
the robust ; which would make up, by works of cha-
rity and the exercise of prayer, for those kinds of self-
aenial which the weakness of their health would not
permit. Madame de Chantal joyfully acquiesced in
the proposition, and felt that unmistaKable serenity of
soul which accompanies any great step in life taken in
oerfect accordance with the Divine will. '^ I suddenly
telt,** she said, ^* a great interior correspondence, wim
a sweet satisfaction and light, which assured me that
this was the will of God ; which I had never felt as to
other propositions, although my whole soul was entirely
submittea to them." There were, however, two grand
difficulties in the design, — one, the fiunily ties with
wliich Madame de Chantal was entangled. She was a
widow, with four children, still quite young: and there
were also the two old men, her father ana father-in-
law : the former with his whole soul wrapped up in his
admirable daughter ; the latter in the helplessness and
fieevishness of iiis decline, requiting, perhaps more than
ever, her tender and all-forgiving care. And next,
there was the necessity of establisning the first house
of the new institute at Annecy, where it would be
under the eye of its holy founaer. To go to laeh a
diflMM Ml ]i» eild profiuwd hooie^ would mmi It

y i

I 'I,

90 IT. fBAlieit 91 lAUik

tn Madame de Cluiital*t relatiTflf a tbing Mh
to her family and eztrayagant in itself.

What seemed at first a grreat misfortune, bron^ht
about the solution to these difficulties. After a vudt
to Annecy in 1607, Madame de Ghantal brought awaj
with her Mademoiselle Jeanne, the youngest sister of
our Saint, to stay ?rith her in Burgundy. This young
lady was only fifteen, and exceeding'fy accomplished
ana interesting. Francis had baptisea ner himself, and
loyed her with the affection of a father as well as a
brother. He reckoned much on what she was likely to
do for the glory of God. However, she had not been
long at Madame de Chantal's before she was carried ofl
by a fever. The letter Francis wrote to the saintly
baroness on receiving this sad news affords so -touching
and beautiful a picture of Catholic familv-hfe, that wo
must translate a part of it: ** What, my clear daughter,**
he asks, ** is it not reasonable that the most holy wiU of
God be fiilfilled, as well in things that we chensh as in
others ? But I must needs hasten to tell you that my
good mother has drunk this chahce with an altogether
Christian constancy; and her virtue, of which I had
always had a good opinion, has far exceeded my estima-
tion. On Sunday morning she sent to fetch my brother
the canon ; and because she had observed him very sad,
and all the other brothers also, on the evening before^
the began to say to him : * I dreamed all the night thi^
mj daughter Jeanne was dead ; tell me, I pray yon, it
it not true V My brother, who waited for my arrival to
tell it to her, seeing this was a good openmg to offer
her the cross, * Mother,' says he, * it is true,' and did
not say any thing more; for he had not the power of
laying another word. And, * God's will be done,' sayi
my good mother ; and she wept abundantly for a spaoe of
time, and then (filing her servant Mark : * I will riae^'
■ays she, ' to go ana pray God in the chapel for my
poor daughter. And immediately she did as she had
laid : not a single word of impatieiice, nor a single dia-
^nieted twinkling of the eye, a thooaand UaiaingB npoa

:!ti

Ofl Till.] IT. FRANCIS DB 8ALB

Gon, and a thousand resiiipiationa to 1 mi»i11. Nerar
did I see a more tituiqnil sorrow ; it was a wonder to see
10 many tears; but all this by simple tender gushes of
the hearty without any sort ot violence ; yet for all that
it was her dear child. Well now, this mother of minSi
ouffht I not to love her well V* Another letter brings out
no less beautihilly his own feelingps on this bereavement?
** You may thinic/' he says, ** my dear daughter, how
heartily I loved this UtUe gi*!. I had begotten her for
her Saviour, for I had baptised her with my own hand,
above fourteen years ago ; she was the first creature on
whom I exercised my priestly office. I was her spiritual
fiither; and I promisea myself much to make something
^food of her one day; and what rendered her very dear to
mo (but I speak the truth) was that she was yours. But
ne^eitheless, my dear daughter, in the midst of my heart
•f flesh, which has had so many throbbings on accotmt of
this death, I perceive very sensibly a certain sweet tran-
quility, and a certain sweet repose of my spirit in Divina
rrovidence, which difiuses on my soul a great content-
ment in these sorrows." Then he goes on to give direc-
tions for his sister's fimeral ; he sen(h Madame ae Chantal
•n escutcheon of his sister's armorial bearings, " to pleasa
her/' and agrees that services be celebrated at the place
where her body reposed; '^ but without great pomp, only
wiiat Christian custom required;" for he lovea simplicity
in death as well as in Ufe. ** We will pray God for her
MRil; and we gladly render her her Uttle honours." Ma-
dame de Chantal, as might be supposed, took this death
deeply to heart; indeed such had been her anguish during
the illness of poor Jeanne, that she prayed Grod rather to
taka herself, or one of her own children, than her. When
ill was over, she made a vow to give to the house of Sales
one of her daughters, in the place of this one who had
died whilst under her roof. Whilst she made thin vow
a sense of consolation came over her mind, and she per
oeived that it was the means Providence had chosen to
bar ittinment to Anneey. Her daughter waa

0T. PRANOIfc DB SALBl.

for jvang, and iha would Iietb to aooompaii j her thm
ana woula thus become disconnected from the ties of
home. It took much trouble to reconcile her relatlTea
to this match ; the venerable President Fremiot being
gpreatly attached to his grand-daughter, and unwilling to
part with her from his house, although he reverenced the
name of Francis de Sales, and valued the nobility of hii
illustrious house. On the other side, overtures had, some
time before, been made to Madame de Ghantal by the
good Madame de Boky, who had set her heart on her
3on, the Baron de Thorens, marrying a daughter of
Madame de Chantal. The youthful pair were in fact
iffianced in the autumn of 1608; ana a twelvemonUi
after, on Oct. 16, 1609, they were married at Monthelon,
the residence of the old Baron de Ghantal. Madame
de Boisv died before this union, to which she had looked
forwara with all the maternal pleasure of her simple
and loving heart, had taken place. She died rather
mddenly of a paralytic seizure, but retained her senses
idll nearly the last. Her dying moments were quite in
keeping with the tranquil beauty which rei^s through*
out the whole history of the Saint and his household.
She held the cross in ner trembling hands, and kissed it
even when her eyesight was gone. When Francis ar-
rived at the bedside of his expiring mother, she knew
him; and although oppressed with blindness and le-
thaigy, she caressed him much, and said, ** This is my
son and my father, — this one.'' Charles Augustus
de Sales, in his exquisite life of the Saint, describes the
last scene with singular sweetness of expression. ** At
last,'* says he, ** on the first day of the month of Marohu
she yielded up to God her beautiful soul, gently and
tranquilly, ana with a greater constancy and wmitj
than perhaps she had ever had, remaining one of the
finest corpses it was possible to biehold, and exhaling no
evil odour. The great prelate had then courage, after
having given her his holy benediction, to close her lips
aod eyes, and to |;ive her the last kiss of peace. After

«■. Till.] n. FRANOIf DB MAhW^ M

wUeh his heart swelled very much, and he wept owtr
that mother more than he had ever done since he was •
ehuvhman ; but it was without spiritual bitterness, af
he afterwards protested. He rendered her the funeral
honours and duties, and her body was placed to rest in
the tomb of Sales in the church of Thorens."

As we are writing the life of Francis de Saleiy
and not that of Mde. oe Chantal, constantly as the inoi*
dents of both are interwoven with each, we must neoea>
sarily pass over much of the latter on which it woul^
be pleasing to dwell. In this place we need only add,
that the history of Mde. de Chantal's external life, whilst
she remained in the world, is a perfect study for those
of her class, — ladies, namely, whose resources and leisure
enable them to devote much of their time to the reliel
of the poor. The whole method she adopted, the sweet-
ness and kindness she displayed in visiting them, at>
wendinff those afflicted with soras so terrible that even to
read of them would sicken the delicacy of many a sensi-
tive person, cleaning and mendings their clothes, washinff
and laying out the dead, — all was done well. And au
this time she was still afflicted by the great domestic
eross of the tyrannical and upstart housekeeper whom
we have mentioned. One anecdote on this subject if
in the very spirit of the teaching of Francis de Sales.
In the hearing of Mde. de Chantel some one said that
when the old baron was dead, they would cut off this
woman's nose, and drag her into the ditch. ^^Noj*
said the noble-minded lady, ** I will be her safe-
guard : if God makes use of ner to impose a cross upon
me, why should I wish her illT' One of her methodi
in visiting the sick was to imagine she was on pilgrim-
age. She would say to her attendants : ** We are ^ing
to make a little pilgrimage ; we are going to visit our
Lord on ^e Mount of Cuvary, in the Garaen of Olives,
or at the Sepulchre.'' Whilst thus devoted to the life
of perfection, she took excellent oare of her domesti*
affiun; and managed the intereats and fortunes of hei
Mdiwijut aawaUyMd 6r bfttv, than if iho hM

100 ST. FlUWOIt Dl tALMi

bfion dATotfld to the world. Slie also did not negpleol
the usiinl elegant tasks of devout ladies of her rank,
such ns Mfiii'kintj;' omaiiumts for the altars of the neigph-
bouring churches. On one occasion she spun some
Mrr3 to make a vestment for Francis de Sales, and
haa it dved violet. The manner, in which he acknow
ledppes tfiis g^ft, is a remarkable example of tlie way in
which he worked up the commonest incidents into devo-
tional lessons. She had asked him to g^ve the value of
it to the poor; he waives this as a soi*t of scrupulosity :
•he was quite ng^ht inworking* for hei*selfor her friendi
at leisure hours, but she must not feel herself under an
obliofation to give an equivalent sum to the poor; it
would interfere with that holy libei'ty which must pre-
vail every where. Then, if he were to pay the value of
it to the poor, he asks, with elegit raillery, how wat
he to estimate the value? If he was to give a sum
equal to what he thought the value, it would ruin him.
Tne vestment had given him a thousand glad thoughts;
and one of them was when he wore it in a procession
in the Octave of Corpus Christi. " Do you see/' he
says, '' I adored Him whom I was bearing ; and it
came into my heart that He was the true Lamb of
Oody who taheth away the sin of the world, Hofy
and Divme Lamb, — ^tms is what I said, — ^how wretched
am I without Thee! Alas, I am not clad, save in Thy
wool, which covers my misery before the face of Thy
Father. Upon this thought, behold it is Isaias who
saith that our Lord, in His Passion, was dumb at a
lamb before his shearer. And what is that divin«
fleece, but the merit, but the example, but the myf>
teries of the Cross ? It seems to me, then, that the
Cross is the fair distaff of the holy Spouse of the Can-
ticlesi of that devout Sunamite; the wool of the Incarnate
Lamb is preciously fastened to it, — that merit, that ex-
ample, that mystery." Then he advises her to spin
eontinually on this distaff the threads of holy asputip
tions, drawing from the spindle of her heart that whits
tad dfllioate wool ; and tne robes made from it woaU

OH. Till.] ST. FRANCIS DB SALBS.

101

defend her from concision in the day of her death. ** I
wished you thereupon bhjssing>s a thousand-fold ; aad
tliat, at the ^I'eut day of judgment, we mifi^ht all find
ourselves well-clad, some in the e[)isco|)al raiment
others in widowhood, or in the wedded state; others in
the f^arb of Capuchins; others Jesuits; others vine*
dressers ; but every habit made of the same white and
red wool, which are the coloura of the Spouse."

On the day after the mai-riag-e at Monthelon, Fran-
cis de Sales, the President Fremiot, and the Arch-
bishop of Dourc'es, held a soil of council to decide upon
the vocation ol Madame de Ghantol. When invited by
them to explain her views, she showed with such clear-
ness the good order in which she would leave her affairs
on quitting the world, and the excellent arrangements
she had made for the education of her children, who
might even be brought up under her own eye in th«
event of the institution being established at AnnecVy
that, deeply as the sacrifice was felt by her father, £•
could not but recognise the finger of God in the design
which she was undertaking. He gave his consent ; ani
after a few hours' delay, sue finaUy parted with her re^
lations. The separation was unusually agonising, in
Droportion to the extraordinary love ana reverence with
which she had inspired them all; but having heroically
overcome these last trials, she proceeded to Annecj,
where, on Trinity Sunday, June 6th, which was also
the Feast of St. Claude, the new institute, called at
first that of the Ladies of St. Mary, and afterwards the
Order of the Visitation of our Lady the most glorious
Virgin Mary, was solemnly opened by its holy patri-
arch. There were at first three Sisters, Maclame de
Chantal herself, Charlotte de BrtSchard, a young lady
of noble birth from the province of Nivemois, whose
delicate health had obliged her to leave the order of
Mount Carmel, and Marie- Jacqueline Favre, a daughter
of the President Favre, Francis's ancient friend. To
them was added a lay-sister, as touriiref Anne Jacqne-
liiia Cofte^ • humble and good son], who had baoi •

Fi I <

lOQ

ST. FRANCIS DB iALMi

servant in a hotel in Geneva, having taken that plaes
from a wish to serve the eoclesiastios and other Gatho>
lies who had occasion to rasort to that heretical dtr.
We shall attempt in the following chapter to giv« (£•
leader a more detailed dettoription of tM minMit tad
'-^-ofthtMfrOrdar.

i . H

T I

ifr' ''

if !

Ik'U I'-

It ;

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OB.U.J

IT. FBANOlt DB tALIl.

l$$

OHAPTBB a.

OMUimww <Nr tarn obdia ov nn mautnui.

Tub ite of the Order of the Visitation Moms to ham
originated pertly in the oiroumstanoes of the timei^
partly from the character of Francis himself. A great
change had indeed come oyer the world since the
days when 8t Antony assembled his thousands of her-
Juts in the deserts of Egypt, or 8t Bernard retired
from the feudal oisde to tne unreclaimed solitudes of
Giteauz. The itemness of the feudal world required
a corresponding sternness in the discipline of that lift
which tnoee amied at who left it, and the saint of the
middle ages bore a oertain analogy to the mail-obMl
knight But a reyalution in the whole eyitem of
the monastic life of the middle agee had been broogfat
about by St Ignatius. It oame upon the world like ai
original and fwtile discoyery, iJiat the mortifioatiaii of
the will may be toomed to as great and eyen mote
eztensiye account than the mortification of the body.
Very few oonstitntkns indeed oould sustain the tm*
mendous diMsipline of the Gisteraian fi»t; and in our
own times we belieye it has been ascertuned that out
of a oommunity consisting of twenty or thirty, then
are scarce six who are not obliged to ayail theiiisely«i
of dispensationa. No dispensation is required in a sje>
tem which is based on the mortification of the wilL In
such a system the most delicate can be as perfect as the
strongest ; corporeal mortifications musty moreoyer, in
eyery case arrive at a speedy limit) whilst the occasions
of eyery moment of conscious existence mighty if nk

auired, oe turned into mortifications of the wilL There
I also another reason why, in modem timaiy the latter,
as a spuritual method, is superior to the former. Asoul-
tiyitioii adyanoes, temptstiooi become much Urn afanple^
or bekag BMM to tfai iDtalkft or to the ImiiI tbiB te

ii .-

!|-:t(^

104 IT. FmAirett bi tiiM.

Jm leniet. Rude and M^aga aaturet wnUmpUd It
irealth and indulufenco, wbiUt th« mora refined t^rgaaT*
latiun of a highly •«)diicHted niind is more apt u> girc
way to pride, to a refined melanciioly, or to a uioihi^
pro|)en8ity to look in u|ion itmit' and analyse its own
action ; in a word, the ancient or simple age is tempted
by that which is without, the cultivated, or modem age,
by that which is within. The 8]H)ciul remedy for tiia
foimer would consist in external suffering, in stern fasts,
in lonff vigils, in severe [lenances ; the remedy for th«
latter m the ))er})etual subjection of the individual to tho
will of a superior. As soon as the idea we have 9i-
tempted to aevelop had been enunciated to the world,
it or course more or less affected the rules of every new
religious institute; and we shall be enabled to traca
its presence, to a very considerable extent, in the consti-
tutions of the Visitation. The kindly nature of Franoia
de Sales, and that special tenderness with which he ra*
ffarded the infirm or the afflicted; and again, that pra>
nrence which he seems always to have had for what ha
edls the little virtves wliich grow at the foot of tha
eroes, were another iniportant element of the institution
which he founded. Iiis system as a confessor had grs-
iually formed many characters in the high socie^ of
France and Savoy, who required the formation of a nair
order to give them scope and operation. They were
ladies, who to the courtly graces of an earlier affe added
that intellectual culture wiiich reached its higuest per-
fection in tha reign of Louis XI V. It was evident that
for oharicters like these the simplicity of the IVancia-
ean or «Jie Dominican rule required ront>HeriibIe mod^
fications; the modi of life which, *imd«r n'r" duecti >i
Jane Frances de Chantal had a; >}*'.. 1 Iij tha world,
must of itself have suggested to him the idea of utilising
it, of turning it to account in snch a manner as to act, not
only on her immediate circle, but on society generally ;
■na, as wa have seen, she was surrounded by many
fner^, who emulated her virtues, and ware ready to
iiiUdirwkre aha lad. Aa mayparliapabaaiudofcfMy

"ft

• I

tr FmAVOIt BlIlIBl.

rreftt m^Tetnei.t. ifep miprht be compared to the hiftuti-
lul creHt (if th^ wave ; liif^lit'r, iiidt^Hl, and mora reKplen*
dont than tlie other drops wliicli tbnii4Mi it, Hut of the
■uine ninreniil. Just uk in Sjmin, before tUe Society of
Je^us was instituted, Avihi hmi conceivHl <a very siinilAi
'dea, which he heroicidly sacrihced when he behMhl it
mirrored in the more ca|M(ciuussoulof(^tttiu9, Bother*
were in France holy and humble -^oul^, which wer» in-
aeed akin to this ^reut fuundiess, and which, had i«he
been absent, one mi^-ht imii<rinc would have bei^n erpiaJ
to a similar work ; such was Mudame d' Auxerre, of whom
we know little, excejit that iK'0))le stud she was in Lyoni
what Madame de Chantal was in Annecy ; such were
many of the Hrst Sisters of the Visitation, Mademoiselle
Favre, Mademoiselle de Br^churd, tn^e venerable Marie
A.im^ de Blonay, and othei's o' the same community^
irhose lives constitute one of the richest and most beauo-
tul chapters in that most interesting; study — the Gatbolie
memoirs of France. But with al i this abundant mate*
jial before him, there was one dil&culty, which on the
old system could not have been met : all of these ladiee
iiad Deen delicately reared in the highest French re-
finement of the day ; very many of them were feeble ia
health and constitution ; if, therefore, the religious life
Iras to be precisely that of the daughters of St. Catne-
rine or St. Clare, all this material would seem to have
been, pot indeed thrown away, but planted in a soil where
it could not fructify and spread abroad its branchei.
Here then the great discovery made by St. Ignatiuf
leemed precisely what was needed to meet the emer-

Smcj ; it was nossible to devise a mode of life such m
oee most tenaerly brought up and most infirm ia
health could undertake, the perfection of which should
nevertheless not fall short ot that of the most austere
orders of earlier times. We now come to a fourth
element in the constitution Francis had projected,--*
this was a certain reminiscence of the primitive life of
Jie early Christians. In the early CLristian Chuidl
arders of womeD were not cloistered; thoii|^

106

■T. PBANOIf DB lAUtt.

Bet apart to Qodj and living a life of l^e strictest •Wu
sion, they still remained under the roof of the family
The Sisters of the Visitation, thouc-h strictly nuns, and
living in a convent, were also, in tueir original system,
not cloistered; that is to say, a certain section of the
religious went out, as the Sisters of Mercy and Cha*
rity do now, to visit the sick and destitute. Another
point of difference was, that originally they took onlj
what are called the simple, and not the solemn vows
Under the limple vows, they had the power of return-
ing to the world, if dispensed, for sufficient reasons, bv
their lawful superior; under the solemn vows thit
liberty would oi course be impossible. The primitiv«
idea of the Visitation was thus only a step beyond that
of the third orders ; the third orders gave a rule, but
often left their members in the world ; the Visitation r»<
moved them from the world, but did not establish tha'
abrupt separation from it which characterises other reii>
gious institutes. In this respect it bore an obvioq
resemblance to the institute of the Oratory; for which
as we have already seen, Francis had a great admi*
ration, and the spirit of which may be traced in man}
details of the constitutions which he gave to this order.
This orig^al idea, however, in a few years unde^
went a great and vital alteration. The Archbishop ol
Lyons, Denis de Marquemont, when a house of the in*
stitute was being founded in the capital city of his dio-
cese, urged very strongly on Francis the prudence oi
bringing the Visitation into the category of the regu-
lar monastic orders, that is, of establishing the cloister,
and substituting the solemn for the simple vows. His
view was, that however useful the comparatively lax
^stem might be, so long as the early fervour of a
newly-established order remained, it would be certain
to grow into abuses as soon as that fervour began to
diminish. It is evident that this suggestion tend 3d
completely to change the features of the structure a«
it came irom Francis's hand. His object was of ont
kud, the purely monastic system was of anc^^her; Urn

6H. IZ.]

■T. FBANOU DB tALBS.

107

latter mig^bt be i^Acb greater, but it was not inreoisely
the same; for example, the establishment of the en-
closure would entu'ely destroy what had at first been
an almost necessary element in Francis's idea. He had
wished to combine the two examples of Martha and
Mary ; so strongly was he impressed with this view, that
he even wished to place his order by name under the
patronage of the former saint. If the enclosure was
established, the poor could no longer be visited, and the
institute could no longer act directly upon society ; it
would close one important sphere of spiritual action,
whieh was, perhaps, what constituted the principal
charm of the order to minds like those of Madame de
Chantal and her earliest companions. But never waa
there a Saint who was more ready to defer to others in
all matters not involving right and wrong than Francis
de Sales. His view remained the same ; but he at onot
conceded the alteration demanded by the Archbishop.
The institute accordingly was erected into a regular mo-
nastic order, with enclosure and under the solemn vows,
m the year 1 618, in virtue of a bull from Pope Paul V.
The constitutions ^ven to the new order were thosr
of St. Augustine, which were adapted to the existing
a^, and penetrated with what we may call the Sale-
sian spirit. In the body of regulations called the
Directory is contained perhaps as copious and sug-
(restive a collection of nints for the development of
me religious life as can be found in any portion of
the literature of the Church. We see in it at once the
legislative spirit and personal influence combined. The
writer speaks indeed with the voice of law ; but speaks
like the tenderest and kindest father, entreating rather
than commanaing, and setting forth the duties of the
Teligious life rather by nainting the ideal of the perfect
teligious than bv sternly dictating: "This you shall
|o; this you shaU not do." Never did the founder of a
religious order bequeath to his children a. moif perfect
tnuueript of his own mindt a more perpetual mmaarf

l^-f

108 fT. VRANC18 OB tALBS.

of his presence, or so easy a means of enabling^ eaob
member of bis institute to carry out, both in the spirit
and the letter, tlie gi'eat though simple principle which
it was his mission to convey. To give a com[ilete ana-
lysis of the Constitutions and Directory of our Saint
would far exceed the Umits of the present sketch. We
shall, however, endeavour to select those points which
leem most cliaracteiistic of the Sairt personally, and
most distinctly to mark off his institu:« from that of all
others. In so doing*, we describe the Visitation as it waa
finally settled after the establishment of the enclosure.
Each house consisted of three classes : the Sisters of
the Choir, who were obliged to say office ; the Asso-
ciate Sisters, who were not under that obligation ; and
the Domestic Sisters, who were concerned m the duties
of the house. Their breviary consisted only of the Little
Office of the Blessed Virgin ; one reason he had for
this limitation, was the great difficulty of teaching
ladies to chant Latin with a proper accent, to which
he attached much importance, and in which he found
the natives of France peculiarly deficient. The choral
music of the Visitation became however exceedingly
beautiful, and he speaks of this in his letters with great
delight. In writing to Cardinal Bellarmine, he says,
''that the chant was so happily formed according to
Jie rules of piety, that he can hardly tell whether its
■weetness is surpassed by its gravity, or its gravity by
its sweetness." The age at which postulants coufd be
admitted was not to fail short of sixteen; \mt widows
tnd ladies even of extreme old age might be admitted,
as also those of the most delicate and weakly coniftitu-
tions, and those even who laboured under personal de-
formity, provided these afflictions were not such as to
interfere with their joming in the service of the depart-
ment in which they were placed. The austerities, as
maybe supposed, were not exti-eme; and so much kind-
ness is shown to those of dehcate constitntion, (hsX it is
opiaMly Mid 'Jtuj must not maka a iampla to aat oar

OB. IX.] ST. FHAIfCIS 9B SALBt. 109

of meal-time if they raally required it; but they wen
ordered never to leave table without huymg at leas^
mortihed themselves in soniethinir.

Bach coiuinunity of the V isitation consisted of
thirty-three^ of whom twenty were Choir-sisterS) nine
Associates, and four Doinestic-sistei's ; the Superioi'esi
must have been professed for five years, and be not less
than thiity years of a^e ; she is assisted in the govern-
ment of the house by a council of four coadjutors,,
whose opinion, though she is bound to consult, she is
not necessarily to adopt. From among them or the
rest of the Sisters she w»^ to choose two, called SurveiU
lanteSf whose business ir is to observe any faults that
are committed, and coniv: with the Superioress on th^
best ramedies to ajiply. A beautiful spirit of maternity
reigns throughout the instructicns which the Saint
gives for the guidance of the Superioress. The Sistert
are to repose in her precisely that sweet confidence
which an mfant reposes in its mother ; and as an infant
would fly to its mother if it were torn by a brier o
stung by a bee, so every sorrow, little ana great, muaj
find a remedy in the sweet wisdom of the gentle and

Erudent Superioress. In fact, what an infidel author
as said is tne first human need, namely, true guidance,
In return for loving obedience, was exemplified in the
relations of the Superioress and her nuns. The second
functionary in a Visitation convent was the Assistant ;
her office was to act for the Superioress in her absence,
and to superintend the due performance of the choral
service ; to take care of the books of the convent, to oee
that none were used tmless authorised by the spiritual
Father or Confessor, and to keep the jtroper order on
lays of confession and communion. Tlie duties of the
Directress or Mistress of the novices are beautifully ex*
plained ; she is to exercise them in obedience, sweetness,
and modesty, and to clear away from their characters
idl those foUies, tendernesses, and sickly humours, by
wbioh mmds, especially of women, are often made Ian*
fiud tnd aifMolMl: ih* initmott Umb in th« birt

IT. VBAHOIt DB tALM.

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■ffpi

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BM^ods of prayer and meditation, and other spirttoA.
tunifles; she teaches them how to confess in the man-
ner most calculated for their spiritual prolit, how to em-
ploy their confessions and communions to the best ad-
▼antage, and in particular to see that they carry out to
the utmost that ^at business of all convents, inter-
cessory prayer : her mind must be humble, generous,
noble, and universal, — by which last qualification we
understand the founder to mean, that liberal and lai|;e>
minded capacity of entering into the feelings and diffi-
culties of others, so as not to be discouraged even when
a disposition appears somewhat rude and unmanageable
at first sight; she is patiently to cultivate and ti*ain
such wild plants, till tuey are completely brought into
order and reclaimed, so as to grace and adorn the gar-
den of the Loi'd* One of the rules for this office showt
in a particular manner Francis's insight into cliaracter
He says : ** She will take care not to amuse herself witii
the outward appearances of the novices, which often de-
pend only on a graceful demeanour and elegant style of
manners, or on the quickness of the intellect and pro
prie^ of language ; but she will as far as possible pene
trate into the very depths of their hearts, so as to dis-
cern their faults, and to know with what hand to guide
them." He elsewhere cautions the Superioress to take
care to be on her guard ajgainst any mere natural incli-
nation, founded on the noble extraction of the nuns, the
gentleness of their characters, their elegant manners, or
other attractive qualities. One can in tact easily under-
stand how the polished manners and soft demeanour,
learned in a society like that of Fran'^e in those daySy
might bear an external resemblance to the true gentle-
nesB produced by the Christian character ; just as the
buoyancy of youth, the ardour of imagination, the reso-
luteness of merely physical courage, pixxluce result!
which, where the character is to a considerable extent
influenced by grace, mi^ht be mistaken for the higher
Banifeetationi of the spiritual life.

Asodiw importuit offiflt m tht «obiiiiiiiiiIj wm tbn

«.J

0T. FRANOIf DB fALBS.

Ill

«ned the Aide of the Superioress. This was a Sister
ehoeen by the Superioress herself, whose business it was
to warn her of tne faults that she committed, and to
whom all the Sisters were to address themselves if
they saw any thing in the Superioress which required
admonition. In this, as in many other parts of the
constitutions, we discern the element of Christian
friendship to be largely made use of. The Sister in
charge of the househola has her duties marked out in
m manner which shows the most thorough business-
talents on Uie part of the founder ; indeed, this chapter,
as well as those which relate to the Superioress and
the Directress, might be studied with ^at advantage
by mothers of famihes, and all who have charge of
household affairs. Every nun who studied the consti-
tutions, no matt/cr what her rank, from the Superioress
down to the Portress or humblest lay-sister, must have
felt that the foimder gave to every one of the offices an
iqual share of his attention. Every thing in its own
department is accounted good ; and no vocation is to be
despised. To return, however, to the Sister whom, for
want of a better English word, we must call the house-
keeper. She was to undertake this duf with a special
f delity and gladness, in imitation of ti^e holy women
Irho followed our Loi-d and the Apostles, to provide them
with what tney reauired. She was to copy the dih-
fence and fervour oi St. Martha, but to avoid her anx-
iety and emprMsement, — ^i fault against which, as every
reader of St. Francis must have observed, the Saint is
continually preaching. The housekeeper was to see to
the storage of all the provisions of the house in their
proper season, and to look at them from time to time, to
■ee that nothing was STH>iling. Twice a year she was to
go over the whole estaoHshment with the SurveillanteSy
io make a report on it to the Superioress ; she was to
keep exact accounts and inventories of all that came
onaer her charge, to distnbute to the Sisters the mate-
liala for work, and to take care that the lay-sisters were
■iithff oyarahirgad with toil nor illowea to be iil^

'i^

119 IT. FRANCIS DB 8ALBS.

The instnictions for the sncnsty afford us a gpood iniigfak
into Francis's views as regards htua' matters. He in-
sists very particularly on the neatness, cleanlinbss, and
griod order of the church, of all the ornaments, vest>
ments, and furniture of the altar. The sister-sacristao
is to rememher, that our Lord always loved neatness
and cleanliness, and that Joseph and Nicodemus wer«
praised for having' huried His body carefiilly and neatlj
▼ith nerfumes and precious ungiients. Throuj^hout the
houseliold there reig^ied the utmost simplicity ; but at
Uie same time the most perfect neatness and cleanhness.
On this he lays particular sti'ess ; and one reason for it
•indoubtedly was, that the institution was intended for
«dies who had been accustomed in the world to the
-^finements and elegances of Ufe. These indeed thej
▼ere to sacrifice ; but it was not part of the idea of hif
■Astitute that the mortification or slovenliness and dii
Mmfort should be adopted : for instance, though he fbiw
^ds silver plate in general, he allows them to have
ipoons made of that metal for the sake of neatness, ** 4
mue de VhonnStetSy^ and also because St. Augustine,
m whose rules their mstitute was based^ used no other
ilver plate except these. But whatever re^rictions
hem might be as to expensive furniture in the house.
«he altar was to be as rich and precious as thej coula
srith prudence make it, '' for the honour and glory of
Tknl, who resides there in a most special and aomurable
manner." One curious rule he lays down is, that they
<hall throughout the whole house make no Images like
JoUs (poupSes)f still less put any upon the altar, either
to represent our Lord, or our Lady, or the angels, or any
thing ; that they shall have images well made and ap-
proved of by the spiritual father, especially those theY
put upon the altar. However, he regards all the busi-
ness of the sacristan, and the proper arrangement of the
ehurch, to be of such extreme importance, that a sepa-
rate directory should he> made for the sacristan, whioL
4he was to have always before her eyes, and read over
t month, so as to fiul in nothiof toat mu wxittM

OH. TX.]

ST. FRAWCIS DB tALKS.

lis

In it. Hii sxpressioQ is particularly strong . '* Th«
lonj^effation," lie says, have an incomparable interest
that this ^'liarffe slitui be paftmmately well exercised."
The office of tlie Infirm* jian bring;s us to a veiy cha-
racteiistic depai'tmeut ot tlie institute. We have seen
that the sick and the aged were not excluded from
the life of perfection which Francis marked out. Tha
niles for the comfoii; and well-being" of tliese Sisters are
strikinj^ly beautifiU. " The Infirmarian is to breatha
nothing out ciiarity, not only in order to serve the sick
Sisters well, but to l)ear with the fancies, distresses, tind
ill-humour the poor sick people often derive from their
mfinnities. She is to divert their disagreeable impres-
sions in the rnftest and most dexterous way she can,
without evpr snowing herself disgusted or annoyed. She
is to have a list to help her memory of every thing re-
quii'ed for the comfort and good order of the infirmary,
and to take cai'ethat tiie rooms shall be neat, clean, ana
nicely ornamented with pictures, green leaves, and
flowers, according as the season shall permit." ^Thus we
see, that in some degrc-e the idea of the Visitation resem-
bled that oi Lea Pctites Scnitnt (It's PauvreSy except that
the sick wore themselves religious, and not so far infirm
as to be incapable of adheiing to tb'* rules. Their pre-
sence in the convent was of course the same advantage
to those Sisters who were in health as the objects of their
angelic charity are to the holv order to which we have
alluded. They would fiirnisn them with examples of
patience, with the hving copy of the sufferingr ol* our
Lord ; a d by waiting on tiiem without goiuL' out of
their enclosure, they might add the virtues of Martha
to those of Mary. In a Convent of Mercy with whicn
we are acquainted, the good Sisters have lor tins very
purpose taxen into their hous<«. as an inmate, a poor
creature afflicted with cancer. The sweet resignation
and the imfailing prayers of this ... woman are a per-
petual edification to tue good Sisters ; her intercession is
wonderfully effioaoious, and we believe a whole chaptet
might bt fiUad with iUutratioBt of th« good nmiti d»>

V i I

»•,

m,: ■

114

ST. FRANCIS DB SALBt.

!|:^-

'.^

I ;{ ,1

rived from the constant witnessing of such patience ia
affliction. But to ratum to the Visitation. The idea
suggested in the chapter on the Infirmainan, short as it
is, seems to embudy the very principle of the orders
engaged in active charity. Tliose constitutions which
relate to the smaller offices of the house, suah as the
keeper of the wardrobe and the laundry, are eqiially
interesting in their way. Those which give rules for
4ie lay-8i8ters, whether domestics or tovrihfiJif contain
a kind of sketch of the duties of the Catholic servant,
and afford another illustmtion of tliat most useful action
on society which all the religious orders possess, but
which, in a particular degi'ee, we discern in the Visita-
tion. One rule is worth quoting at lenf^h. " The Sis-
ters employed in the kitchen and the other household
service will do it with cheerfulness &n^ consolation, re-
collecting what St. Maltha did, and reprei "Oting to
themselves those little but sweet med ^atk^o* waidh St.
Catherine of Sienna made use of, wh' , in i^ nidst u5
such tasks, did not cease her ecstatio jontHC>? a<4»)s of
God. Thus ought the Sisters as fa; as possiudk co hold
their hearts recollected in the goodn as of God, Who, if
they are faithful, will one day dec' ae before the whole
\7orld) that what they did for His servants was done fox
Him." Before quitting the subjfct of tne ffo' 'mment
of the house, we should notice tlat special feuT^tire of it
which consists in the office of ths spiritual father. The
supreme tataority over the conp regation was that of the
bishop, wHeh Francis preferrp i to that of the father-
genend, which is more usual in other orders, because
any abuses or any decay in t\e spirit of the institution
was more likely to be checV :d by the frequent change
in the depositary of the ch' f authority, wnere this was
held by the bishop of the diocese. But whatever ad-
vantage wiis derived in r spiritual point of view from
the office of the father-g^ aeral, he still retained by insti'
tutin^ that of the spi' tual father. This officer wai
appomted by the hi^\' », and his duty was to take oars
^ttt tht ruMB V Ji ohsflrred, aoid that no ebuBg^

M. II.]

fT. FlUNOIt DS tllBt.

idea

as it

dera

hich

the

.ally
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aiit,
ction
, but
isita-
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:, re- *

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or abuse was introduced. He was fitlt the honit
once a ^ear, in company with another ecclesiastic of ripe
af^, yirtuous and discreet. He was to be present at
the elections of the Superioress and ordinary confessor ;
was to sign iierraissions when any extraordinary reason
made it necessary for a sister to go out of the convent ;
and to Iiim both the Superioress and the other Sistert
were to have recourse, whenever there was occasion
for sitecial prudence or foresight. With regard to the
ordinary confessor, the rules which Francis lavs down
for his choice are such as might be supiiosed m>m the
importance of the office. He was to discliarge the office
of the spiritual father in his absence, as regarded grant-
ing dispensations and giving advice in any questiom
that miglit arise. One point which Francis apnears tl
have provided for with considerable anxiety in the rulea
of tliis office is, tliRt the confessor should lie thoroughly
imbued wit!i the s])irit of tlie institute ; he was to take
particular care to avoid doing any thing, either by the
imposition of extmoitlinary ])enances, or by the oounsdr
and advice given in confession, which mignt disturb till
order and the routine of the monastery. The hoi}
founder carcfidly secures for the Sisters the privilege of
confessing or confernng on the state of their conscience
with any person of known cliaracter, without the Supe-
rioress asking why the Sister wishes to do so. Yet if
she frequently demands it, then the Superioress will in-
form the spiritual father, who will dexterously prevent
the holy lii)erty of confession fi-om degenerating into n
source of disquiet, melancholy, aversion to the ordinary
confessor, or a vain preference for individuals.

The f^entle spirit of these constitutions was much
attacked ny tha rigorists of the age, who, complain-
ing of the deficiency of exterior austerities, said that
** these religious had found out the secret of going to
Paradise by a road sown with roses without thorns, of
entering into it by another door than that of tlie Cross,
and wim another Icey than that which the Son of David
on Hit abouldara." Othen niok-named tilt im-

116 IT. fmiiron si ialml

ititnte the " ConfrAternity of the Desoent of the CroM,*
and others said that the oishop was founding a hoi>
pital rather than a monastery. The proper answer to
all these objections is affordea by the multitude of holy
souls who were nurtured by tms institution, and who
would otheiinse have had no assistance of that kind to
enable them to reach the perfection intended for them;
and by the rapidity with which it spread throughout the
Catholic Church, showing^ that it met the needs of reli-
gion at that time. The Church itself has placed the
winning* gentleness of the Salesian spirit beyond the
reach of dispute, by permitting it to influence as it
has done the method of direction ever since. Before
the death of Francis de Sales, houses of the Visitation
were founded, under his auspices, at Lyons, Moulins,
Grenoble, Boucges, Paris, Orleans, and Bfjon; and in
less than sixty jears from the first foundation the order
reckoned no fewer than 120 monasteries. Here the
limits of this biography obHge us to leave this subject;
and we proceed to trace the general life xi the Bainl
from the period when we interrui>ted it to give ooi*
timunuly the hiitory of thii, hii pn}iun|ML fraiulstioB.

u.,

f .'f

St V" ■■•

^•x.1

•T. FBAirCIt Dl fAll

CHAPTER X

fOraSATIOIf OV TBB FLORIMOIfTANB ACADBMT — THB TBSATIUi OV
**TBB INTRODUCIION*' AND ** THE LOTS OV OOO.**

In 1606 and 1606 he made a general yisitation of hii
whole diocese^ underf^oing excessive fati^e, and often
ffreat danger, in traversing the Alpine districts, which
formed the ^eatest part of it, and every where preach
mg, catechismt^, and Learing confessions, with the utmost
seal and assiouity. The results of this yisitation he
embodied in a report to the Holy Father, which forms
a most copious and interesting record of his apostolic
labours, and of those business details, the possession
of which is so essential to the good government of a
diocese, and which his talents peculiarly fitted him to
acquire, widely distinct as atfirat sight a mind of heroio
charity like his seems to be fiom that which is besi
qualified to conduct the transactions of the world.

In 1607, in combination with the President Favre,
ie founded a literary institution at Annecy, called the
/lorimontane Academy. The rules which he enacted
for it are among the most curious of his opuscula. Only
Catholics of good character were to be admitted mem-
bers of it, and each on admission was to deliver a dis-
course in prose or verse to the assembly. At the gene-
ral meetings, eminent men in the various branches of
art were to be admitted, such as painters, sculptors,
Viechanios, and architects; lectures were to be give**
m mathematics, cosmography, philosophy, and rhetoric
^excluding theology^ and politics), and on tiie cultivation
to languages, especially the French language. The style
of speaking was to be prose, polished ana full, without
ifiectation ; and the lecturers were as much as possible
to dispose of one subject in each lecture, and ao their
utmost '<to teach well, much, and in a short time."
Besides the leetuiciy tbera were to be dieeoonea m •

r t

M ft. VBANOII DB flALBt.

more ornamented ftjle, implying the use of the ontorieat
art Pereons of rank, sucii as nobles and prelates, were
to have a place to themseWes at the meeting. The
officers were to be the president, a man of distinction
and yirtues, cealous for the good of the academy; his
assessors; the secretary, who was to bt ''a man of dear.
aoQte, ready and generous wit, and versed in literature;"
the censors, who were to be thoroughly well versed in
every thing, and '' like an encyolopsBoia;'' the treasurer,
and a paidattendant.

In the following year, 1608, he brought out the
work by which he is best known, and which contains in
the most popular form the results of his experience in
the conduct of souls. This is the Introduction to ths
Mritual JAfef a book which, notwithstanding all the
ehan^ of manners, remains unequalled as a manual of
practical instructions for those who are endeavouring to
Mad a holy life in the world. The possession of this
book, and the grace to stud v it, are a blessing second
only to that of oein^ under tne g^danoe of a wise and
holy director. Nothmg is omittM in it : the method of
meditation, of confession, of receiving holy communion,
the arrangement of one's day, the means of arriving at
the different virtues, and the choice of them ; rules on
the promotion of friendship, the kind and degree of
amusements to be permittea, the method of dealing with
temptations, advice as to periodical renewal of one's good
resolutions, — ^the whole system of the spiritual lire ia
here laid down with a riclmess of experience and an in-
Offht into the heart which has never been surpassed.
Vbio only book at all to be compared with it is Roariguei
on Christian Perfection ; but there is a certain sweet
and genial simplicity peculiar to Francis de Sales, which
recommends his book even more than that treasury of

59iritual wisdom to persons living in the world. The
ntroduetion to the Devout lAfe was drawn up by
FVancis chiefly from letters he nad written to one of
his penitents, Madame de Charmoisv. These letters
rat handMi about in nuttnaariiit^ ana w«« so admired^

M. Z.]

•T. VRANClt DSL SALlf.

n»

that bia friends urged uj)on him the publication oi a com-

Slete work embodying their results. The bocik imrae-
iately obtained a vast circulation throughoi't Europe,
and even became known in England soon aflter its a{>-
pearance, a oopr having been sent by Marie de Modicis
to James I., wlio was exceedingly struck with it, and
expressed Ma surprise that no such work ever oama
from the pen of his bishops. The moderation of the
view taken by the holy writer as to the worldly amuse-
ments of balls and dancmgi raised some controversj
amonff the ri^orist school, one of whom went so fiur af
to declaim against the book from the pulpit, and actuallj
to tear it in pieces in the middle of his sermon. Never
was an attack more unjust; for there are few persona
indeed who could calmly read the chapter in the In-
troduction on the subject of balls, ana not rather be
powerfully detached from those amusements than en-
couraged to adopt them. Francis allows only that *' in
their own nature they are indifferent;" but devotoi
a long disquisition to show that they are ''usually
dangerous, dissipate the spirit of devotion, weaken
strength, chill onarity, and awaken in the soul innu-
merable evil affections; so that great prudence is re-
quired in their use."

In 1600 he was engaged in effecting reforms in the
Benedictine Abbey of Talloires, and of those monas-
teries which, like that of Sixt, had in the course of ages
fallen into a lax and irregular state. He completely
succeeded in bringmg it not only into conformity with
the rulos^ but to be a most fervent and edif)ring commu-
nity. Soon afterwards he went to Gex, wnither he was
summoned by order of Henry IV. to confer with the
Baron de Luz, the king's lieutenant-general in Bur-
gundy, on the reUgious affairs of Gex. On this occa-
sion the Rhone was flooded; he boldly passed through
the city of Geneva in his episcopal habit, and styling
himself to the officer at the gate as the bishop of the
diocese. The officer did not seem to understand the
•ipnaoom; and Franai fsnuuned a whole hour in tbt

ido

ft. PRAircn t>B tALSt.

'•'I.

in ■

9 i>^

i i

city without molestation. During this visit to 0«i
he succeeded in restoring to Catliolic worship eight
Darish-churches, and made a g^'eat number of conver-
sions.

The same year was marked by an event which had
very great effect, not so much on his Hfe as in providing
tn observer of tliat life, who has handed down a singTi-
lai'ly minute and beautiful j)icture of it. This was the
consecration of Peter Camus, Bishop of Belley, at
which Francis de Sales officiated, ana which was the
commencement of a fi'iendship between the two pre-
lates lasting till Francis's death. As their dioceses were
close to each other, and the Bishop of Belley, both from
his youth (he was but twenty-five years old when
consecrated) and from his ardent and reverential dis*
Dosition, beffan immediately to look up to Francis as
tis spiritual father and o^uide, he saw him very fre-
luently, and asked his advice whenever he was in any
flifficulty. Once a year the two bishops made it a rule to
spend a week in retreat at each other's house; and the
Bishop of Belley took the fullest advantage of the many
opportunities he had to keep a copious record of the
sonvei'sations of Fitmcis. These reminiscences he col-
.ected into the book entitled L^ Esprit de S, Francois
de SaleSf perhaps the most interesting and valuable, as
it is one of the most curious compilations ever written.
The only work at all resembling it — thougli of course
we only compare them in a purely seculai* and literary
point 01 view — is Boswell's Life of Johnson. The latter
biography is often considered as something perfectly
unique, and without any thing either equal or similar
to it as a complete poi'trait of the life and character of
&n individual. Pei'sons who so speak of Boswell's
lohnton cannot have read J^ Esprit de S. J^an^ois
de Salest a record nearly as voluminous, and show
ing quite as much of that genius fitr singling out t
hero, and dwelling on his cliaracter till the minutett
festui^ of it is represented with the fidelity of the most
life- like painting

911 1L]

it. V1UN0!S Dll BA MB,

In 1610 Francis de Sales had tLe a£9iction of losing
hiB old precentor the Abb6 Deage, whose declining yean
he had soothed with filial kindness. It may be men-
tiofiftu as an instance of the sweet and affectionate cha-
racter of the Saint, that when he said Mass for the re-
pose of the old man's soul, on reaching the " Our Fa-
ther," he was so overcome by the recollection that the
poor Abb6 had first tauj^ht him to say the " Our Fa-
ther," that hf> was almost unable to proceed. The same
vear he had another great loss, though not by death,
m the promotion of Antoine Favre to the presidentship
of the senate of Chamb^ry, and liis consequent with«
drawal from Annecy, where he had lived in the most
intimate friendship with the holy bishop. As regarded
iiis episcopal labours, the life of Francis about thir
perioa seems to have been crowded with work, and,
like every other part of his career, full of incidents
characterising his untiring sweetness and diligfence. He
made two or three remarkable eor versions this year,
one of them a Calvinist lady of Geneva, Madame de
8te. Sergues, who was so conspicuous for her bitterness
;lgain8t Catholicity, and her activity on behalf of her
sect, that she used to go by the nickname of *'the
Arch-ministress." Another was a Baron de Monthelon,
whose first impulse towards the faith was given by the
reading of the Introduction. A tliird was a poor apos-
tate friar, named Bartholonio, who, much like some
melancholy cases in the pi*esent day., had abandoned
the faith merely for the indul<>'ence of his passions.
He had recourse to Francis de Sales, as the common
father of prodigal children, and was charitably brought
back to the true fold.

Besides the general business of the diocese, Fran^
CIS had at this time a good deal of con-espondence
with the Holy See; among other objects, to procure tha
canonisation of Amadeus III., Duke of Savoy, whoai
memory was held in the highest veneration in thosv
provinces. The question of She authorit of the Holy
Bm in tamponl mftttm wii at tU mr period bolli

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Idy AT. FRANCIS DB SALBt.

eontested tlirou^hout Europe. Bellarminey in his oeI«-
brated work, 3e Romano Pontifiae, had maintaiiied
the theory that the Pope has, hy Divine ri^ht, an indi-
rect power even in temporals, — a view which at Rome
was thought too moderate, and hy the GalHcan theo-
logians too strong. In France the controversy was vehe-
mently agitated on both sides, much to the distress of
Francis oe Sales, whose gentle spirit saw no advantage
in thus letting out the waters of stiife. The course which
he earnestly i-ecommended was silence, on the ground,
to use his homely sunilitude, that in those difficult times
there was trouble enough in defending the brood of tbk
Church from the kite which incessantly hovered OTer
them, without allowing the chickens themselves to be
pecking at each other. He even disapproved of the
extent to which Bellarmine had opened the dispute;
not that he passed any judgment as to whether he was
riffht or wrong, but f^rnply from the deep conviction
which he entertamed, both by reason and nrom his na*
tural disposition, of the necessity of peace. He looked
npon the question as easily settled, practically, by those
«rlio acted in the spirit ot charity ; out difficult in the
midst of such violent contention, and useless, because
there was, in fact, no disposition on the paii; of the Pope
to interfere with the temporal rights of sovereigns, — no-
thmg to call for the question Ming opened at the risk
of ruining the peace and unanimity of Catholics. In
an able memoir addressed to Cardinal Caffarelli Bor>
ffhese, he developed this conciliatory policy, recommond-
mg the Holy See to invite the French government to
impose silence on the seditious controversialists, whose
wntings were the prelude to the unhappy variance be-
tween the two powers in the reign of Louis XIV. On
the Catholic side, he advised that preachers should be
ordered to inculcate with calmness the duty of subr
mission to the Holy See, and that in re])lving to the
opponents of the papal authority, writers should adopt
tue indirect rather than the diivct method, and point
ivt yentlj the nBreasonablensM of tooh attaduk He

Ol. z.]

■T. WRAVCIB DB tALSf.

198

farther argnd the importance of acting so as to oring
about a better understandinf^ between the Sorbonne
and the Society of Jesus, the centres of these conflict-
ing views ; to soothe the former of these bodies and
the French prelacy generally, by addressing them with
briefs drawn up in a winning tone : but in the first in-
itanoe to have the affair discussed by the nuncio, the
French cardinals, and the government, showing, on the
part of the Holy See, an earnest wish for the cessa-
tion of these disputes. The bitterness of the foes of
the Church was probably too violent to have yielded
*<o the oil thus thrown upon its waters, even could thft
«iperiment have been fully tried ; but the lesson given
by the gentleness of the Saint will always remain a
profitable study for those who seek to convince others
af the truth. He set forth the charity of the Church,
as such men as St. Gregory VII. exhibited her un-
bendmg firmness ; and even in Francis de Sales the one
did not exist without the other.

In the spring of 1613, Francis de Sales made •
jonmey to Milan, in order to visit the tomb of St. Charles
Borromeo, which pilgrimage he had undertaken by
vow, on occasion oi the illness of Madame de ChantaL
Important business also necessitated his proceeding to
Furin. He sought to obtain the patronage of the Duke
of Savoy for the Order of the Visitation, and several
houses of that iniftitute which he contem])lated esta-
blishing; to demand permission to place ecclesiastical
instructors in tLa college of Annecy in the room ol
the lay-teachers, who had mismanaged it ; and finally,
%o defend a numoer of persons of rank who had been
Jnjustly accused of assassinating the secretary of the
Duke of Nemours. He was accompanied on his journey
by a large company of ecclesiastics and laics of distinc-
tion, one of the latter of whom has left a beautiful de*
scription of his conversation in travelling, in which he
relates what kind and wise admonitions the Saint gave
him for his oonduet in life, as a courtier and man ol
be wofldy Mooukging him to the praotioe of leligifli^

ll t

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iiiinf-

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•v. FRAlfOlS DK SALBt.

as flweet, easy, and attractive^ pointing^ to the exaof
(lies of those who were sanctifiea in courts and camps,
such as David, Judas Maccabeus, and St. Louis, and
warning him of the vanity of the world, and the incon-
stancy of fortune. At Tm'in he was honourably re-
ceived by the Duke of Savoy, who, except in the ques-
tion of the accused peraons for whom he pleaded, wil-
lingly acceded to all his demands. At Milan, where he
was welcomed by the cousin and successor of St. Charles,
Cardinal Frederick Borromeo, he had the happiness of
saying Mass at the tomb of St. Chai'les, and remained
for hours in contem])lation before the body of the Saint,
entreating his intercession to obtain liim ginice to govern
Geneva as St. Charles had governed Milan. So deeply
was he buried in these reflections, that when his com-

Sjnions, on coming out of the glorious Cathedral of
ilan, were expressing their wonder at its magnificence,
he declared that he had seen nothing but the relics of
the holy archbishop. The incident reminds one of the
story 'of St. Bernard travelling a whole day hy the lake
lit (ieneva, and being all the time so absoroea in divine
contemplation, as never once to notice the marvels of
nature wliich are there so beautifully displayed. Both
nature and art are insignificant in the presence of the
splendour of faith. This visit of Frcjicis to Milan
was characterised by another incident, which brought
out strikingly not only the intensity of his faith, but
also the lovmg and trustful spirit by which it was
adorned. Cardinal Borromeo having permitted him to
officiate in the ceremony of exposing to public venera-
tion the holy napkin or sudarium preserved at Milan,
the heat and pressure in the church being extremely
great, Francis s face was so drenched witn perspira-
tion, that a few drop fell on the holy relic he held with
passionate devotion before him. The occurrence gi'eaf'iy
distressed the Cardinal, who even sharply reproved tliA
Saint for carelessness. Francis, however, in the confi-
dence of the love which he felt for his Lord, showed
but affaotioiuitolT wised on iba ban

til

4B. X I

IT. FRANCIS PB f ALKl.

196

tiful significance of the circumstance, as showing^ thft
goodness of our Lord, who allows us to mingle oui
sweat with that which fell from His holy body, and to
consecrate all our toils by a continual reference to His.
Fitincis returned to Annecy by the end of May,
and occupied himself with various important affairs,
among wiiich were the reconstruction of eight more
parishes in the province of Gex ; the establisliment of
the Bai'nabites as teachers in the College of Annecy,
and of the Carthusians in the Abbey of Hipailles.
In 1614 he received an invitation from the Emperor
Mathias I. to attend, as prince of the empire, a diet
to he held at Hatisbonue the following year. This
event is wcthy of notice as an historical curiosity.
The bishops of Geneva had now, for nearly a century
been excluded by their rebellious subjects from occupy
ing the city, to the sovereignty of wmch they had nevel
ceased to assert their right. The Holy Roman Empire
the very representative of prescription, order, and law,
disdained to recognise the Calvinist republic ; and on
every occasion when the princes were convoked to the
imperial assembUes, sent a courier to Geneva to notify
to the bishop, who was still supposed to be there, that
his attendance was requested by the emperor. The
courier reported his compulsory absence ; and thus the
ancient rights of the bishous were rever allowed to
become dormant. The reply of Francis to the em*
peror is still preserved, in which he excuses himself ui
simple but dignified terms, on the ground of the pover^
of his see. The same year he paid a visit to his friend
the Archbishop of Lyons, whicn was attended with the
important results to which we have already adverted,
of the establishment of a Convent of the Visitation at
Lyons, »jid m the alteration of the constitutions of
tliat mstitute, the ai'chbishop strongly advising to place
it on the footmg of a regular cloistersd order. Next
year, 1615, the Archbishop returned Francis's visit bj
spending a short time at Annecy; and thus theie
moij proUtei ramed the old OMtoiii by whifih^ ii

•T. PBAN0I8 urn lALI

t;.;

f-:-"-^

i.i

1,;

t ij i

1 , , ; ,

'* ' .

in ' \

primitiye times, neipruboiirinff' bifihops were went to td*
rise with each other '^bont the atiairs of their dioceses.
The Duke of Savoy, ah on many other occasions, found
ji this fiiendshij) with a bisiiop with whose sovereii^ he
was at rivalry, the materials of ungenerous suspicion of
the loyalty of his illustrious subject, who had to remove
them by explaining', what the duke mipfht surely by this
time have Known, that no political puiirase whatever
entered into conferences like these. In the course of
che sa.Tie year he was enabled to place the Damabites
At Thonon in charg-e of the educational depaitment of
the Holy House ; and the office of Vicar-general of the
diocese nap))ening to fall vacant, he selected to fill it
his brother, John Fi-ancis de Sales, then canon of the
Gathedi-al of Annecy, who afteiwards became his coad-
jutor, and upon his death succeeded him as Bishop of
Geneva. John Francis de Sales was in temper a great
contrast to his brother, his goodness beinf^ of the grave
and austere kind, somewhat allied to sadness, of which
there was not the slightest trace in the Saint ; and it
often happened that the gentleness and sweetness of
the one interposed to remedy the sternness of the other,
as equity comes in to temper justice. During all this
lime, and subsequently, Fi-ancis was effecting fp*eat re-
A>rms in the episcopal administration, particularly in
the appointment of parish-priests. Hitherto abuses had
crept in from the highly aristocratical spirit of the age
ani country; and men had been placed in the care of
souis who nad little to recommend them but the splen-
dour of their birth. Francis, however, as we have seen,
resolutely carried out the principle of giving away the ,
incumbencies by concurmsy that is, to the candidate of
the greatest merit, as tested by an examination. Thiti
regiuation frequently occasioned the most violent dis-
satisfaction on the part of e'-desiastics and their relaF*
tives, who obstinately refused to comprehend the new
arrangement ; and the sweetness of the Saint was oftei
put to the uroof in a manner which would have hew
leo mvflh rar any patinoe bat fueb ■■ hi% \ij dinp

«■• z.]

•T. FIUNOII am lALIl.

127

pointed cbiisanto or their friends calling: upon him, and
▼entin^ their rafre by the most violent ana abusive ex*
pressions. At this time, it not unti'equently ocourrod
that people whom his unbending sense of justice had
displeased, would beset his house dui'iiig' the night
witn deafening noises, blowing horns, and making their
doors bark and howl. Insults of this kind Fi'ancis de
Sales knew how to set at rest, by passing them over
inthout the least notice; and it generally happened
that those who thus far forgot themselves, took reiiige
from the stings of their conscience in his angeUc spirit
of forgiveness, and made the humblest a{)ologie8 for
the insul''i8 which, like stones tiung upwards to the sky,
only fell back on the heads of those who threw them,
ima made them feel conscious of their own meanness
when they looked on the unti-oubled min'or of his sanc-
tity.

Early in 1616 he brought to a completion his greatest
work, the famous Treaiise on the Lave of Goal It is
a book which possesses an mterest i*e8embling that of
the heroic actions of the Saint, much of it having been
written, not like ordinary theological works, but in
actud ecstasies of that love towards God of which
he is the historian and the teacher. His manuscript
was blotted with his tears, and the treatise doubtless
abounds with thoughts directly suggested to his mind
Ny the Holy Spirit. When he was meditating on the
ommencement of the work, on March 26, 1614, he
ras visited by this inspuration, manifesting itself even
fisibly : a globe of fire descended on him, and dividing
itself into a multitude of little flames, played harm-
lessly around him, and rendered his face radiant like
a star. His brother, Louis de Sales, entered the room,
just when this manifestation had disappeared, and per-
ceiving his face as though it were on nre, the Saint, in
reply to his startled mquiries, told him, trembling all
over, what had occurred. In memory of this event,
Framcis de Sales wrote these words in a book which he
•Iwayi oanied about with him : Di$ vigetimd pimtd

U t

< '

M^^,'

228 ST. FRANOn DB SALSt.

JSfartis, hodie iervwn mvm Francl^cum wittmeorMtm
vivtari (h(jn/itiut ext Domimn. The TVeatute on ths
Lave of God is ])erlians little read in this country, the
common translation oeing very indiiferent, and the
quaint old French of the original not being: very easy
to ordinary readers ; but a greater mine of ricn and
beautiful thong'ltts does not exist in the devotional lite-
rature of the Cln;rcli. This treatise was also sent to
James I. of En<rland, who, as we have already men-
tioned, expressed the highest admiration for it, and
wished he could see the holy author. When this was
told Francis de Sales, he sain, with all the fire of apos-
tolic zeal, ** Oh, who will give me wings like the dove,
and I will fly to the king into that fair island, once
the land of saints, and now the domain of error ! Ah,
living God, if the prince allows me, I will go to that
new mission : I will speak to the king, and preach the
truth to bim at the peril of my life !" Had tne Apostle
of the Chablais been enabled to carry out these aspira-
tions, who knows how different might have been the
face of thmgs in England at this day !

In the Advent of 1616 and the Lent of 1617, Fran-
Ms preached at Gh^noble by invitation of the parliament
uf Dauphiny. The first of these courses was attended
by a remarkable person, the Marshal Duke de Lesdi-
guidres, then governor of the province, — one of those
proud and stem Calvinist nobles whose stubbonmeBS af-
forded so complete a parallel to that of the Puritans in
Endand ; yet the invincible sweetness, and still more
perhaps the dignity of Francis, produced a singular im-
pression on the haughty old marshal, who often invited
the holy bishopto his table, and delighted to hear his
conversation. The Calvinist ministers of the neighbour*
hood persuaded a nobleman of their party to remon-
strate with the duke on tl-is dangerous friendship ; he
made t most characteristic reply : ** Tell these gentle-
men,** he said, '' that I am ola enough to knowvhat to
do. It is not ibr these young upstuls to teach a man
•f mj agt and quality haw to oondset himself; I know

CK.1.]

n, FlAirOXI DM f ALU.

19t

how bishops oug^ht to be treated; t is very difTeient
with ou' ninistei's, who at best answer to tne rank of
eureSf since they have rejected the episcopal dig-nity,
although so well-founded in Scripture : wti«n I see sove-
reign princes, the sons and brothers of kin^s, become
ministers, as I now see them consider it a distinction to
be bishops, archbishops, and cai'dinals, I shall consider
what honour I am to pay to the ministers." Ulti-
mately, in 1622, the duke was reconciled to the Catholic
Church ; his reason had long been convinced by the ar-
guments of Fi'ancis, but he could not be persuaded to
break off a connection which, as in 'so many other
cases, had far more to do with his hesitation than any
controversial difficulties. Many other conversions re-
sulted fi'om these missions at Grenoble, and also the es-
tablishment of a house of the Visitation, the locality fof
which was selected in the midst of the wild mountain-
icenery of the vicinity. On returning from his second
visit to Grenoble, Fi'ancis took the opportunity of stay-
ing a few days at the Grande Chai'treuse, where tu<
sternest aspect of nature harmonises so well with the
penitential lessons tauo^ht by the lives of the simple and
noly monks who dweU there. All the neighbourhood
of Grenoble, thus consecrated by the footsteps of a
Saint, has lately become the chosen home of a tar more
intensa devotion. La Salette, the scene of the latest
apparition of the Queen of Saint?, whither the eyes of
Catholics are now turned from the most distant comers
of the world, is at no great distance frt>m Grenoble.

The year 1617 was marked by severe afflictions for
the affectionate soul of Francis. His brother, the Baron
ae Thorens, was carried off by feyer whilst with the
anny, and his yoimg widow, the daughter of M'ulame
de Chantal, was so overwhelmed with the bereavement,
that it brought on a prematui'e confinement, of which
she (Ued : though having^ had the happiness of receiving
the last Sacraments, and 3f being invested on her death-
bed with the habit of the Visitation.

I I

•T. FKAMOII DK SALJ

I ,!•

Vl! '<K

m-\

IP'

CHAPTSB XL
Tim TO rABn with thi OABDnf al or iatot— Lut tiam ov

rilAMOU DB SALia.

Tn 101 8 Francis was chosen by tho Duke of Savoy to
icco^)pany the embassy to Paris headed by the cardi-
nal-prince his brother, and commissioned to negotiate
the maiTiag'e of his son, tlie Prince of Piedmont, with
Cliiistine of France, dauuhter of Ilciirvr IV., and sister
of Louis XIIl. If, on the occasion ol his former visit,
\\ie astonishing acliievement of converting a whole pro-
rince from heresy to Catliolicity had diivcted towards nim
the interest of all Paiis, fully e(|ual nas the admiration
now awaiting him as the autiior of the Introductum
and tiie treatise On th^ Love of Oody which great
judges did not hesitate to place on a level with the
works of the Ambroses and Augustines, The negoti-
ations of the embassy hifted for nearly a year, dunng
vhich Francis rec«nvt'd incessant invitations to preach,
which he did ahnost daily : the people never tiring of
listening to him; altliough neither his elocution nor his
style was such as might liave been expected to attract
tliose highly-j)olished audiences. The secret lay in the
exquisite cbarm of Divine gi'ace, which even visibly
rayed out from him. Tlie ciiurches were so crowdedf,
that it more tlian once happened tha-t a ladder had tc be
brought for the oreaeher to enter bv the window, the
dooi-s being completely blocked up. l*eople ran to gaze
at him, or to touch his robe as he passed in the streets;
and they even bribed his barber to give them his hair
to keep as relics. He was consulted on all handb by
those of every rank, from the prince down to the capti\3
H the dungeon, who were in difficulties or distress oi!
nind; and his prudence never failed to remove the
ioubti whi ii weighed upon them Hii unruffled w^

«■. XI.]

ISi

renity was lometimes put to the proof by impatincDt
▼isitorsy who, with that rudeness which seems insepa-
rable from heresy, came with questions they imaf^ed
would embarrass him ; but they always left him with
respect and goodwill. Among the leadin||^ |)ersons
who frequented his society, we must not omit to men-
tion Vincent of Paul, whom he was in the habit of
styling ^* the worthiest priest he had ever known,**
and under whose direction he placed a community of
the Visitation which he established in Paiis. Great
efforts wera again uiade at this time by the French
court to induce him to remain in France. Cardinal
de Retz, Bishop of Paris, had set his heart on having
him for his coadjutor, and offerad him a rich pension,
the entire control of his diocese, and the appointment
of his brother, John Francis de Sales, to succeed
him at Geneva, if he would consent to come ; but all
was in vain. Notliing but the will of God, evidenced
by a command from the Holy Father himself, would
have induced Francis de Sales to quit the see where
Providence had originally placed him.

The negotiations being at length completed, — for
which result the diplomatists were in a greac measure
mdebted to the tact and prudence of Francis, — the
royal marriage was celebrated, and the embassy quitted
Paris. Francis de Sales, in reward for his services, was
complimented with the office of grand almoner to the
Princess of Savoy, which he only accepced on condition
of not being asked to reside out of his diocese, and re-
signed almost immediately, so far as implied any active
duties. His brother, Jolm Francis de Sales, was invited
to Turin to discharge them in his stead. The influence
of the court of Savoy soon afterwards obtained from
the Holy See the appointment of John Francis as co-
adjutor of Geneva, with future succession. He was
consecrated on January 17th, 1621, under the title ol
Bishop of Chalcedon ; and a^er a short interval, waa
permitted jy the court of Turin to undertake his autiei
«t Anneoj. Frands regularlj educated hii broth*

'; ■

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■,' %

'I
P

lis

83 tr. FlUHOIf Dl tALBt.

for the offico «»r bishop, both forminf^ his oharaota and

eommiinicatiDg^ to him those wise maxims of episoopal
jf^overnmont, of the nuithod of preuchiiif^, and ot the in-
terpretation of Scrinture, and nutting him in possession
of those stores of uetiiiled information about the state
of the diocese, which he had accumidated durinor yean
of labour and vitnlance. Every day he devoted some
aom's to the task of imparting this instruction ; and
thus, long* after his death, the spii'it as well as the
name of tliis ^eat Saint continued to rule the Church
of Geneva. For even his second successor, Charlea
Augfuste, was a member of the house of Sales, a
nephew and disciple of the Saint, who had perceived
in his early youth the promise of unusual noliness;
and having taken him undt^r his special charge shortly
before his death, he was able to give his mind that en-
during impress which a gi'eat man needs only a very
short space of time to convey.

We aue now drawing to the close of his career,
lehicli, full of activity as it was in every part of it, was
never more energetic than in the two or tliree years im-
mediately preceding his death, when his failing health
and frame, shattered by suc'i incessant toil, would have
induced any one else to take repoF>e.

Dming the yeara 1618-20, he made several tedious
journeys, and undei-went great exertions, in order to re-
estabhsh discipline in the abbey of Sixt, a community
which had got into an unsatisfactory state, and on which,
at an eai-ly period of his episcopate, he had bestowed gi'eat
pains ; but which again and again relapsed into its for-
mer relaxation. During one of his visits to this abbeyi
he wrou^b". a miracle which was attested by six witnesses
in fhe processes of his canonisation. Great numbers of
people had resoi'ted to the place to ask his counsel, as
they constantly did ; and the increased consumption of
food weighed heavily on the resources of the abbey.
Francis prayed, and the river produced such a supply
of fish as had never been remembered up to that tune ;
tktt asnal qvantitj ef fam^ baked for the comniuu^

om. zi.j

•T. FRANCIS DB 8ALBI.

188

II Mad

Mopal
he in-
lesBion
I state
yean
some
; and
as the
yhuroh
/harlei
lies, a
iceived
liness ;
shortly
lat en-
a very

career,
it, was
ars im-
health
d have

tedious
tore-
munity
which,
dgi*eat
its for-
abbey,
tnesses
hereof
Qsel, as
>tion of
abbey,
supply

tune;

luo^y

foficed for the ndditionnl mouth?, and the cask of wine
from which they drew for ull the strangers sustained no
increas(M) diniinution.

In 1020 he enacted constitutions for the hprmitagre
of Mont Voiron, a lioly institute which had Um<^ flou-
rished on the north of the Luke of Geneva, till Gtilvinist
baibai'ity had overthi'own it. Several devout religious,
and among them one named Rig'aud, who had adopted
the eremitical life after havin}^ been many years ac-
tively engag-ed in the political world, restored the as-
sociations of the place, and besought Francis de Sales
eo devise a rule for them. This he accomplished with
his usual pnidence, and was accordingly considered as
♦ihe founder of the congi'ejration.

In 1621 he was engag-ed in the business of negoti-
dting a reform in a convent of Bemardine nuns, at St.
Catherine's, near Annecy. It proved a tedious and
difficult undertaking, h-om the opposition of the abbess,
who headed a pai'iy in the community opposed to re-
formation. As usual in such case«, this party sup-
ported itself by the civil power. The holy bishop's
correspondence about this simple affair reaciied above
a hunared lettere. The matter at length ended in the
tbundation of a separate convent for the nuns who were
miiuus to live up to the rule. Francis de Sales drew
ap constitutions for them; and the reformed institute
beeame a flourishing stock, from which several oom-
oiunities branched on*.

One of the last public proceedings of the Saint, and
which, from the circumstances attending it, derived a
peculiarly touching interest, was the translation of the
•elics of St. Germain from the nave to the high altar
of the abbey of Talloires. This is a beautifiil spot near
the lake oi Annecy, wherf* were the ruins of the her-
mitage of St. Germain, winch Francis had caused to be
lebuilt. At the ceremony of the translation he spoke at
treat length on the devotion inculcated by the Church
E>r saints and relics, and on the virtues of the holy
'" whoM tbodi^ Ifiid waste hy haretiad fiolno^

I '/

M i

i^Nli-'l:

184 ST. FRANCIS 1}B SALBt.

he had piously repaired. When all was over, he yiriied
the hermitage, and g^ed with delicrht on the exqu-
lite prospect around him, the calm lake and the over-
hanging mountains, and his own heloved Uttle city of
Annecy in the distance. He said that, if it were our
Lord's will, he should wish to come there, to enjoy an
interval of rest ; he would leave the burden and heat of
the day to his coadjutor, and with his rosary and his
pen he would serve God and the Church in that peaoe>
ml hermitage. " What a delicious site !** he exclaimed,
with the feeling no less of a poet than a saint. ** How
great and beautiful thoughts will fall around us, thick
and soft, as the snows come down in wi iter !" It was
not a uassing fancy, but apparently a sett-nl plan, which
he haa iiilly maturec^ in his mind. He gave orders the
same day to the prior of Talloires to have five or siy
oells built for him, and announced his intention to sel
tie there as soon as he could arrange to transfer thi
diocese to his brother. ** And then/' he said, ''we wiO
serve God with the breviary, the rosary, and the pen;
we shall enjoy a holy leisure to trace out for the glory
of God and tne instruction of souls what I have oeeo
turning over in my mind these thirty years and more,
and which I have used in my sermons, mstructions. ana
meditations ; I have abundance of materials, and be>
sides, God will inspire me. Oh^ who will give me the
wings of a dove, to fly into this sacred desert, and
breathe awhile under the shadow of the Gross f* He
had in his mind plans enough to have occupied more
than a life-time. There was to be a history of Jesus
Christ in four books ; the first, a sort of diatessaron, or
harmony of the four gospels ; the second, a treaf ise
on the evidences, drawn from the words of our Lord in
the gospel ; the tliii'd, on the Christian virtues, as set
forth in the gospel ; the fourth, a history of the primitive
Church, drawn from the Acts of the A|M)stles ; oesides a
similar work on the Epistles of St. Paul. Then another
treatise, supposing all this completed, ** on the love of
«nr Mighbour«" woild have sanred u the pmkiaiU to

«■. ZI.j

•T. PRANOIS DB SALBl.

1»

his great work on the Love of Ood. Lastly, in a fflriet
of letters on the Pastoral Office, he would nave thrown
together the results of his vast and unexampled ex>
perience as a missionary-priest and bishop. It was, of
course, obvious that, even if yf^itrs of health had been
still afforded him, these designs were too vast for him to
expect to accomplish them. Of this he was perfectly
conscious; but he remarked, with profound practical
wisdom, that " to give scope to the activity of the
mind, we ought to form designs as great as if we had
a long hfe before us, but not to reckon on doing more
than if we had to die to-morrow." The only part of
his designs which the holy bishop was enabled in
some degree to accomplish, was the superintendence
of the education of his nephew and future successor
Charles Augiiste de Sales, whose residence in the house
hold and under the care of the holy prelate diudng tbf
last twelvemonth of his Ufe gave him, as we have alreadl
mentioned, impressions which were never obliterated,
and were the means of his worthily keening up, both
by imitating and by writing tlie life of ins uncle, those
heroic virtues which became almost the hereditary pos*
session of his race.

In May 1622 he was commissioned by the Holy
See to pi'eside at a chanter of the order of Feuillants,
held at Pignerol, there oeing at the time considerable
disputes in the order relative to the election of a general,
on which they were unable to agree. By the address
and chanty of Francis these dissensions were haupily
appease«i, and harmony restijrtni. The exertions, Mow-
ever, which he went throu«j;h in mannging this difficult
affiiir were more tlmn his strength was adequate to sus-
tain. He was now fifty-ibur years of age, and the infir-
mities of age began to weigh heavily on liim. He suf-
fered greatly from weakness of the chest, violent pains
in the head and stomach, swelling and inflammation of
the legs, — all these symutoras indicating a general break-
op in uis constitution, i el he still held on, — the eneivj
tthi••01lIn■iI^j;aup•rior to thadiMjd tilt body. Oi

■;|.

i.#

m^' . • li

mm 1

v> ■ I ■ y I ■ ]
' ' ' i i'

fr. VRAirOTt VB f Allt.

(eayinf Pi; erol he visited Turin, whither he wm is*
vited by the> iouit. Tliere he stayed a short time, lodfl^-
Uig" in a small and stiHing- cell in tiie monasteiy of the
Feuillants; thou}^li handsome accommodation was eag-erly
offered him on all sides. The arcliljislionric of Turin
having- fallen vacant, that rich and sj)leiidi(l appointment
was pressed upon liim in vain. He wished to hasten
his return to Annecy, as a scarcity was prevailing" in
the country which ho hoj)ed to relievo. The court at
length unwillingly let him go ; and on his departure the
Princess of Piedmont presented him with a magfnificent
diamond ring^ of the value of 3000 fi'ancs. He accepted
it g'ladly for the sake of his ])oor people ; and he was no
sooner in Annecy than he pawned it to the jewellei*s, in
order to ohtain the means of carrying" on his charities.
Tlie ring was speedily redeemed hj his fiiends, and re-
turned to him ; and he would agiun ])ut it in pawn, till
t became a proverb in the town, much Uke tlie snuff-
foxes and watches which, in our own days, are puied
H eharitable circulation from one n£le to inotlMT.

.•^•^

«■ Zll.] tr. FBANCIl DB BkLWk

CHAFTEB Xn.

nuTB or nANon di iauhl

Towards the close of the year, he was invited by rji«
Duke of Savoy to attend him at Avig^ion, whei'e he was
to meet Louis XIII., in order to congratulate that prince
on his successes against the Huguenot faction. Fi-ancis
had a presentiment that this journey would be hif last ;
but he did not think it right to decline the invitation of
his sovereign, es])ecially as it was hkely to afford him
the opportimity of negotiating for the mterests of reh
gion. Accordingly he made preparation, with the utmost
taknness, as if he were to retm'n no more. He made his
Krill, changing them to bury him in the nave of the
Church 01 the Visitation at Annecy ; but if he died out
of his diocese, leaving the place of his sepulture at the
choice of those who snould attend him at the time. He
jmited the adornments of his funeral to thirteen candles,
md would have no other escutcheons than the holy Name
of Jesos. On November 7th, he made his general confes-
■ion, and in the afternoon handed to his brother and co-
adjutor a mass of papers relatinjo: to the business of the
diocese ; after which he said cnoerfully, that he seemed
to rest on earth with one foot only, the other was raised
in the air, and ready to go. On November 8th, he bade
farewell to his relatives and friends, to the canons, and
to hif dear community of the Visitation, for which he
had thougnt and toiled so much. One of them, an in-
nocent and holy soul, Sister SimpUcienne, had foretold
that he would not outlive the year. As he parted
with another of them. Sister Anne-Jacqueline Coste, she
wept as she had never done before on any of his jour*
Dm* When he asked her why was this, she saidTthat

<■•

1^11

IfvJ

188 BT, FRANCIS DE 8A!Bf.

F^oiSy who, in the spirit of prophecy, foresaw that thr
good Sister herself was not destined lorg tc survive him,
replied that his heart also told him tLttt thej would sef
^ach other muoh sooner than she thought.

On the 9th of Novemher he set out on his journey,
amidst the tears of the whole city, and proceeded to
Avi^on by way of Belley and Lyons. At Lyons a
trifling incideL't. happened, which is worth relating as
an example of his sweet and gentle demeanour. As he
was going on board the boat, the boatman refused to
receive him frii'iout his passport. When his attendants
were angry at the delay, the oishop remarked, ** Let him
alone ; he Knows his business of boatman, and fulfils it :
we don't know that of travellers." He had to wait an
hour for the passport under a bitterly cold wind, but
showed a calnmess which diiiiised itselfover his irritated
followers. When at last they got on board, he went
and sat next the boatman who had been so tiresome,
obscrvmg, ** I wish to maka friends with this good man,
and to talk to him a little of our Lord.*'

A similar example of the manners of tLs Chrisdan
traveller occurred on their arrival at Avignon. The city
bemg crowded with the retinue of the two «H>urt8 oi
France and Savoy, Francis and his company coidd find
no room at the first hotel at which they applied, and
had to go on foot to another through torrents of rain.
The holy bishop, as he went along, catechised the poor
man who served ai» their guide ; and when they [mrted
at the door of the hotel, said he would remember hir^i
next day at the Holy Sacrifice. Tf we consider all the
circumstances, his scattered health and lameness, and
the great fatigue he had underg-one, equanimity Hke
this will appear so unusif«i' as to deserve a record in a
£fe every action of whlca was ':croic.

At Avignon he held aloof from all the magnificence
which the reunion of two courts in that splendid age
•o lavishly displayed. He would not even go to tne
wmdow to look at the triumphant entry of Louis XIII.
ttd tht two qiujtn% Maim d« liadioi Mid Anoe d

€B, XII.'

IT. FRANCIS liJI tALBf.

ram.

poor

|)Arted

Irhi?^

lithe

and

hke

in a

Anetria. He spent liis time in prayer, in conference
with religious persons, and in yisitmff the vaiious places
of devo^oa in the city. On Novemoer 26th, the royal
fisitors quitting Avignon, Francis accompanied their
train. When they arrived at Lyons, offers of hospi*
tality poured in upon him from various quarters ; bu^
he insisted on taking a little room in the nouse of tL«
gardener of the Convent of the Visitation. It was a
comfortless place, being full of draughts, and with a
smoky chimney. Francis, however, maintained that it
would suit him quite well, and that he wished to be
away from the noise of the court.

Here was held the last interview between Jane
Frances de Chantal and her holy director. She had
been visiting the convents of her order at Dijon and
elsewhere, and came to Lyons to advise with Imn.
With difficulty he found time to receive her, such was
the press of people who besieged him for covnsel and
consolation. When, however, ne at length was enabled
io release himself, the first thing he asked her was.
srhioh of the two should begin to speak, as they had
oat a few hours at liberty. Madame de Chantal, anxious
to tell him of her spiritual affairs, said : ** I, if you
please, father ; my heart has great need of being rr -
vised by you." He gently ^proved her eagerness, as
contrary to his favourite lesson of avoiding all excited
feelings, all self-will. M»dame de Chantal at once shut
up the memoranda she had pi'ej)ared about the state
of her soul durir*' the three-and-a-half yea^ which had
elapsed since she last had seen the Saint; and she
opened instead of them her pai)ers about the Institute.
They talked of it for four hours, and Francis dc Sales
gave her his last instructions for the government of his
order; in paiticular insisting that they should never

Elace themselves under the management of a General,
ut always be subject to the Bishop of the diocese
where they were placed. He then commanded her to
visit some convents he mentioned, and dismissed hsr
With hu Uissingi to msst no mors in this liis

140

ST. FRANCIS DB SALES.

,■ 1.

14 ri

km nut

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I 1

Among the persons of distinction who frequenteo
the society of Francis at the closing jieiiod of hif
life was Jacoues Oher, one of the liigh magistracy oi
Lyons, and father of the Jean-Jacques OUer who after
wards bticame so famous as the founder of St. Sulpice.
The itter was at this time still a child, and afforded
no jrrise of his future holine^s, being exceedingly
self-v/illed and unmanageable. Yet Francis de Sales
predicted, with the utmost, confidence, that Almighty
God had chosen him for the advantage and glory of
the Church, and he bade his parents change their iears
into acts of thanksgiving.

There seemed to be an impression amongst all that
his end was approaching, and his iiiends openly ez-

fressed "^.o him their belief that he would be canonised
it did not disclaim this, his humility being such as nok
to be weakened by a consciousness of his own saintli-
ness, unlike many others from whom such knowledge
has been withheld. A lady of the court, whom he met
at the Princess of Soissons', said : " Really, my lord,
if you wei-e in red robes, one would take you for St
Cmffles." He replied : *^ Madame, it is of little use to
haye red robes ; but it would be yery desirable to be s
St. Charles in one's works, if not in one* s dress." A
Jesuit father, in conyersation with him, speaking of
the different charactei-istics of St. Francis of Assisi, St.
Francis of Paul, and St. Francis Xayier, he exclaimed :
** Yes, either it will cost me my life, or I shall one day
be a fourth St. Francis."

It now drew near Christmas ; and in spite of his
sufferings, he had been toiling in his apostohc ministry
with eztitiordinary energy, preaching wherever he was
asked. He said his Midnight-Mass at the Church of
tne Visitation, and preached on the Nativity with a
feryour wmch surprised all who heard him. The Mdre
de Blonay was so struck by it, that she yentm'ed to
ask him if he had no^^ received some special ?race at
the Mass, remarking that it seemed to her that she
bahald (ha arahan^ Gabrial at his lids whan hf i»

"1 .:

. »!.]

•T. FRANCIS DM BALBl. 141

toned the Gloria in axcehns. Ho did not deny that he
had heard with his eai's the holv melody of the antrels,
and had seen with his eyes the iDivine Infant and those
blessed s])irits surrounding' Him. He then heard the
confession of the Prince and Princess of Piedmont,
and said the '^ Aurora" Mass for them in the Dominican
church. He then heai'd three other Masses, and did
not say his own third Mass till near mid-day, after
which he dined, and then g'ave the habit to two novices
of the Visitation, preached at the ceremony, gave them
a conference, received several visitors, and afterwards
waited on the Queen Marie de Medicis, who was to
leave Lyons the next day. Yet he was actually a dying
man when he thus crowded such astonishing exertions
into one day. Next day, the Feast of St. Stephen, he
bade his last farewell to the nuns of the Visitation, and
spoke to then ^or nearly two hours, chiefly on Divine
love, on confess, ^n and communion, repeating much of
those practical lessons by which he throughout his life
had imparted to so many minds the means of obtaining
serenity and repose. It gi'cw late, and his servants
came with torches to light him to his house. Obedience
called him, he said, and he must go. The Superioress
asked him, before he departed, to tell them what he
wished should remain most deeply engraven in their
hearts. " My dear daughter," replied the dying bishop,
'' desire nothing^ re/\ oe TwtMng. Enough is said m
that word." And he illustrated it by the example of
the Infant Jesus in the crib, receiving poverty, and
nakedness, and cold, without stretching forth His hands
to ask for any thing; leaving Himself entirely to the
care of His Mother, yet not refusing her alleviatinns,
nor those of St. Joseph, nor the adoration of the kings;
yet all with an equal indifference. " But, my lord,"
said one of the nuns, ^' ought one to warm oneself when
one feels very cold?'* The simplicity of the question
only brings out with the greater clearness the depth and
practical wisdom of his answer : ** When the fire is lit^"
M tv^M^ ^W6 Me that obedienoe iatmdf om to warn

'0, '

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149 ' ST. f RANOIS DB tALBli

MMMlf, providetl it be not done with too gieat eagw^
MM.*' Thus in hifl last words he expressed the great
mauifi which he preached thi'ou{:>;hout his life, to avoid
tmpreiAnmentf to observe a certain holy equality and
serenity of mind, to accept and to do wito calmness and
thankfulness what Divine Providence intends for us at
the moment; and to avoid that tiurry, that iiaste, that

of Truth.

Next morning' was the Feast of St John the Evan-
(,elist. He felt his sight weaker when he rose, and
remai'ked to his utt^naants it was a symptom of his
departure. He confes.<H$d, said Mass, and gave com-
munion to the nuns. The Superioress noticed his altered
looks ; he only observed that every thing tiuns out well
to those who love God, and in gfiving tier his blessinff
said, " Adieu, my daughter ; I leave you my spirit ana
my heait." Outside the churcli he talked tor some
time with the Duke of Bellegarde and another noble-
man. It was cold and foggy, and he felt a chill, ic
spite of which he went on to call on the Prince of Pied-
mont. By the time he got home he was excessively
fatigued and ill; but sat down to write lettei-s, and re-
ceived several visitors. On their departure his servant
came in, and began to tell him about a sei'mon he had
been hearing, in which the preacher exhorted the queen
to love her servants. Francis, Uke our Lord, said,
" And you, do you love me well ?" The good servant
could not speak for weeping. The Saint continued:
** And I, too, love you well; but let us love God more^
Krho is our Great Master." As he said these words h«
fainted away; and an apoplexy soon Lfter came on, with
lymptoms of the most alarming kind. He was removed
to bed, and remedies adopted in order to rouse him.
He retained his consciousness, and frequently repeated
Ihe acts of faith, hope, charity, and contrition. Ha
Md^iuipco&MioBoffidth^aiidtfW it «ud,<'Iwiik

I. ZII.J

ST. PRANOIS DB SALIt.

148

10 die in the faith of the Church Catholic, apmtoKc ano
Roman, the > >nly good ren^on ; so I swear it and I
{nrofess it." in tlie course of the day he confessed, and
asked to receive Extreme Unction, wiiich they gave him
aoout one o'clock in the morning; but without the Via-
ticum, in consequence of his sicluiess. He then made
them place his chaplet on his aim, and blest medals
were attached to it, which he had brought from Rome
and Loretto. Next morning' he received several visitors,
the Bishop of DamascuR, the Duke of Nemom's, and
Madame OUer and her children.

His foimer director, Father Forrier, having afked
aim if he remembered ! ira, he replied, ** Si ohlitvs
fwro tuif oblivioni detu dextera mea:" " If I forget
ehee, let my right hand be forgotten." The good priest
invited him to say, like St. Martin, " Lord, if I am
still necessary to Thy people, 1 rctiise not the labour."
The Saint, in reply, repealed thrice, " Serws inntitU,
inutiliSf inutilig : " A useless servant, useless, useless."
He seems to have replied to almost every question in
the words of Scripture, generally the Psalms. Fre-

3uently he uttered that passage ot'tlie Canticles : " /»-
wa mihiy dilecte miy uoi pa^ns et cubes in meridis:**
** Show me, Thou when, my soul loveth, where Thoc
ftiedcst, where Thou liest in the mid-day."

The symptoms, however, got worse : he constantly
mlapsed into drowsiness ; and to remove this, the phy-
ficians resorted to all the expedients used in the bar-
barous surgery of that age; not only blisters on the
head, but the application of a lot iron to tlie na})e of the
neck, and even of an instiiiment shaped hke a button,
heuted red-hot, and pressed on the crown of his head
till it was burnt to the very bone. The saintly patient
bore all this cruel torture with the most perfect ^erenitv,
tallmgon the dear names of Jesus and Mttry. As might
be expected, he gradually sunk after sufferings so excru-
natmg ; yet the few words he still uttered were all ol
them worthy of record. A nu .: who was in attendance,
thinkinf to gntiff his^ tokl him hiifaroth«| tbt ^'-^—

]

F I

I'.f

III' <•■ ' ' ■ - ■

Ilil|i^3|

144

IT. FRANOIt 0« SALVa.

of Chaleedon, kad arrived, vbich was not trae. Ha
mid to her, * My sister, o*ie should never tell lies."
^Vhen asked if he was not so ry 1o pait with his daugh-
ters of the Visitation, just w)i02i the institution was at
its commencemeni, he said thnci!, ** Quictrpit op\u^ ipse
petficiet, peiificiety perfUnet'" " He who hath begun the
work will peifect it, will pc rfeut it, will perfect it ;"
words whicn he repeated, afte* nn interval, when he wai
asked whether he did not fear V) be vannuished in the
last combat. Then turning to a friend, ana grasping hie
hand, h 3 said, ^' Advesperascitf et inclinata est jam me$:**
** It is towards evening, and t le lay is now far spent."
Then, after uttering the Name of Jesus, he lost the power
of speech, the faint movement oi lips and eyes still in-
dicating that his soul was in prayer. Those present now
knelt down, and recited the 'Mtet^ommendation for a de-
parting soul.'' When they cam ) to the invocation, '' Om
nes Saneti InnocenteSyOrate pro «<?," "All ye Holy Inno
cents, pray for him," they i ^ated it twice, in honour ol
the festival. At the third v vc4;ation he breathed forth
his innocent soul with the utn^out tranquillity and sweet-
ness, dying at eight o'clock in the evening, on the Feast
of the Hdy Innocents, December 2dth, 1622, in the
fiffy-f.ixth year of his age and the twentieth of his ejMs-
eopate.

His death was siinematurally made known on the
lame day to several of nis friends at a distance. Madame
de Chantal, whilst praying for him, heard an interior
voice saying to her, " He is no more;" words which at
the time she took to signify his Hfe being absorbed in
God. Charles Auguste de Sales had been so afflicted
at his departure, that he fell sick **>r> was believed to
be past recovery. On the Feast o^ ^ne Holy Innocents,
however, a sweet sleep sudden)*' came on him, during
which he dreamed that the bisc'vj had come from Lyons
to bless and to heal him. On waking, he exclaimed
that his uncle wa£> dead. A holy pnest at Annecy,
whilst oelebrating Mats, saw the fkoe of Francis de Sales
iiimNuid«i with raji^ ind Iomw ia hit own mind that

1" 5 ?

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I. m.]

tr. vmiiien »i tin

14i

he hHcl dflp«rt«d ; and the lame reveUtJon waf made in
Noel Perf^ord, an advocate at the comt of Chamheryy in
ft drnam, in which he l)ehelii a dove of dazzling^ wtiite-
ness hover round him, when he heard a voice say, " I
maj not toucli tlie earth any long^er^* and the do?e
immediately flew towards the sky. Other holy sculf
had similar revelations.

When the bo<iy of the holy prelate was opened to
be embalmed, the opemtors found in the gall, which
was completely dried up, a great quantity of small
stones, some round and others tnanfrular, hen))ed toc^e-
ther in the form of a ctmplet. The physicians ascrifjed
this phenomenon to the constant violence he had used
in surMiuinir his an^rer, to which pussion he was naturally
inclined, ilis he<ui, after being- placed in a silver coifer,
was given to the Church of the Visitation at Lyons.
His Inxly, after some opitosition raised by the authori-
ties of Lyons, was liroug'tit to Annecy, where it was re-
ceived by the whole population with extraordinary vene-
ration. It was magniHcently enshrined in the llhurch
of the Visitation, and has ever since lieen considered the
ehoicest nossessiim of the city. At the time of the firat
French Revolution, when churches in almost all quarters
of France and the adjoining countries were ransacked
by the impious and sacrileg-ious hands of the inridels,
some devout Catholics, to giiard against the dan^-er of
these holy relics heinfi; insulted, secretly removed them
from their tomb, leaving another bo<ly in the silver
shrine instead of him, — a proceeding- which may be used
in illustration of the well-known controversy about the
relics of St. Cutlibert at Durham. Soon after the Con-
cordat in 1804, the Bishop of Chamliery verified the
document in which the facts were stated by these cou-
rageous persons at the time of the transference ; and ha
exposed the relics to public veneration. In 1806 they
were removed with great solemnity to the cathedral
ehureh of St Peter's at Annecy ; and on Aug. 21, ' .15,
Uiej were finally translated to the Church or the Visita-
Haa, wbiflh bad bean rebuilt by Maria Chriitina, QuaM

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of SardiniB. The ceremony was of tuoh mtgnifiomM
as to show that the spirit of Francis de Sales still pre-
vailed with all his ancient power over the land he nad
loved so well. The king and queen were present; nine
bishops and 683 priests assisted at the functions; and
che concourse of people who flocked to Annecy to vene-
nite the holy relics on that day, and through the octave,
was declared to amount to dn,000. The splendid silver
slir-ine in which the relics were placed was contributed
hy those of the family of Sales who had survived the
storms of the revolution. It is interesting to add, that
it was H dH.^ceurlant of that noble house, the Countess
of Divoniie, who afforded hospitality not many years
since to the worthy successor of Francis, Monsignor
de Maiilley, Bishop of Lausanne and Geneva, when
exiled from his see by the infidel government of the
latter city.

TIte general voice of the faithiiil, as was to be ex-
pected, began immediately after his death to invoke the
mtercession of Fi'ancis ; and miracles of the most asto-
nishing kind continually attested his title to be ranked
among the Saints. Limbs distorted from infancy were
made straight ; sight was restorad to the blind ; diseases
at which the beholders shuddered were completely ban-
ished ; the dead were restored to life by his power with
Almighty God. The assembly of the Frencii clergy in
1625 addressed to Pope Urban VIIL a letter soliciting
his beatification, and reiterated this petition on fow oc-
casions, up to the year 166L Great exertions were
made by Jane Frances de Chantal to urge foiward the
cause, and bring evidence as to his life and mijacles.
The inquiry, which was unusually exact and extensive
^as intrusted to a committee, consisting of her brother.
tlie Ai'chbishop of Bourges, the Bishop of Belley, and
a doctor of Louvain, George Namus. As continually
hu[)pcns in similar cases, difficulties interfered with the

tirosecution of the cause, and were singularly removed
ly the providence of Almighty God. It was reserved
for Alftikndar VIL, formerly Cardinal Ghigi, wboM gmt

|!1 'B 1

«■• ZII.] ffr. FftAHOIf !>■ tA&Mi

147

flareer had been foretold to him by the Saint himeelf, to
place this resplendent li^bt upon the altars ef the Church.
Hi» beatification was announced in 1662, and his canon-
isation in 1665 by the same Pope, who appointed Jan.
29th to he obsenrad as the festiTal of St. Franeif dt
talsk.

•T. FAAirCIS Dl lA

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CHAPTER Xni.

0BAB40TIB or IT. tRAKOB SI UUIb

Ih tfoncludin^ tliis outline, it will be interesting t$
review in general the clmructer of" the Saint, as it ap-
pears from the details we have given, and from those
abundant sources of information which our limits have
enabled us scarcely to do more than indicate. It is,
of course, obvious to any one, that the leading feature
of his character was the most oxquisite, invincible sweet-
ness. He was sweetness itself: he mi<^ht almost have
been styled that quality itself invftst(Hl with a visible
form ; and the elegsmce of his a))j)earance and air was
the fit expression of tlie serenity which dwelt within.
This sweetness, h<^wpv«»r, seems not so much to have
been the result of natiu-al disnosition, as of long efforts
and watchfulness over himselt. He spent years in ao-
ouiring it, and for a long time hardly thought of any
tiling else. The !)hilosoj)her Seneca tells us that no
one can hope coinpletely to subdue any natural failing;
but he may so far bring it within bounds, that no one
but the person himself shall be aware of its existence.
Grace can effect wonders unknown in the sphere of
8im])ly natural virtues; but the remark holds good to
this extent, that the natural failing will be the trial
destined to bring out the peculiar excellence which the
character ought to nossess. We often see, moreover,
m the mind a singular balance of opposite qualities, in*
tended by the Creator to limit each other, and to afford
the soul the means of developing its special grace.
Thus it was in the case of our Saint. The very last
failing under which he might have been imagined to
suffer, was that of anger ; and yet he assured the Bi-
f ho]) of Belley that this was one of his severest tempta-
tions. There were two passions he felt assail him the
lUMl tutoDglj, Mifff tnd lovib The ]aUn h* could

OM. UII.] ST. FEAirOXl ]>■ lALBS.

rabdns by inaiiag;«ment, by eMnf; it a right and holj
direction ; but as for anger, be had " to take his heart
in both hands/' in order to stifle it. We have seen the
Hune expression used some where in St Francis's works,
in advising a person as to the proper way of subduing
aTersions. In the Introduction to a Devout Lifej he
gives some precepts of ^at interest and value on the
proper means ot rcstraming angler, which show that
this metaphor of ''taking the heart in both hands''
must be understood on what we may call the Salesian
principle of "Imness, and the absence of any thing Uka
flurry and haste. He says : '^ But how &m I to repel
anger? you will say to me. It is necessary, my Phuo-
thea, that at the first feeling you have of it you should
promptly collect your forces, not by any means rouglily
or impetuously, but sweetly, and nevertheless seriously.
For as one sees in the audiences of many senates and
parliaments, that the beadles crying ' Silence ! silence ! '
make more noise than those whom they wish to hold
iheir peace, so it hap])ens full oft that, wishing with
impetuosity to repress our anger, v e raise more troublp
H our heai't than the auger itself had done, and the heart,
leing thus troubled, can no more be master of itself."
He then goes on to advise that ejaculationf should be
made to Almighty God to calm the storm - ^tt observes
that " the prayer made against m^'^^x and pressing
anger ought always to be practi?f :», sweetly, tranquilly,
and not violently." Anotbar nile which accompanies
this is, that the v«>-7 moment you perce^'e you have
::^Himlt'w«i. oti act of anger, you shoil** '* repair thf
foult by an act of sweetness, exercised promptly to-
wards the same person against whom you were ii-iitated.
For as a sovereign remedy against lying is at once to
recal the Ue the moment you perceive you have said it,
10 it is a good remedy against anger to repair it sud-
denly by a contrary act of sweetness ; for, as thev sav,
firesh wounds are most easily remedied." Lastly, £«
gives this most useful precept : " When you are in truh
vuiUitj, and without any fubjcct of anger, lay ia

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great store of sweetnem and meeknessy uttering all yovf
words and performing^ all your actions, little and great,
hi the sweetest manner you possibly can." One trans-
lator renders this, '' so as to be able to utter all your
words," Six. ; but this is quite missing the point of the
passage. St. Francis means, that in tranquil hours we
should acquire a habit of gentleness, by speaking and
acting gently, and then in moments oi temptation we
shall oe better able to resist the assaults of anger.

There are many most beautiful stories in the Esprit,
which appear to us to justify St. Fitmcis's own account
of his r^aracter. His gentfeness was of too positiye a
kind to allow one to suppose it was merely caused by
the absence of the element of anger in his mmd. Anger,
or whatever princij)le it is on wnich the sterner yirtues
depend, he doubtless had; but this was kept in the
most perfect subjection by the action of grace on hb
affectionate heart and clear serene reason. The samf
combination, aided by his L.ustrious birth and earl}
familiaiity with high life, even had grace not furmea
his whole manner, would doubtless ot itself have made
him one of the . most finished gentlemen of the a^e.
There is something exceedingly chivalrous in his cha-
i-acter, which meets one curiously now and then through-
out his works. For example, in the Introduction^ how
redolent is the following passage of the days of Chris-
tian chivalry : " The blessed Elzear, Count of Arian, in
Provence, having been long absent from his devout and
chaste Delphina, sJ:c sent him an express to hear news
of his health, and he made re}>ly to her : ' I am right
well, my dear wife ; but if you would see me, seek me in
the wound of the Side of our sweet Jesus ; for 'tis there
where I dwell, and where you will find me : elsewhere
you will seek me in vain.' This was a Christian knight
mdeed." (fntrod. ii. 12.) The readers of the Life of
St. Francis of Assisi will recollect that beautiful passage
where that great ntediieval Saint, in his early youth,
dreamed he wa.s in a vast hall hung round with rich
iiiDOur j and eyery helm and corslet and buckler bora

ZIII.]

•T. riUIfCIS DK SALBB.

16j

«n it tbe stamp of the cross. Tn the life of his name-
■ake, St. Francis de Sales, we find traces of this martial
spirit, which is so nobly worked out in the Spiritual
Exercises, Such is that scene where, when a guest in
early life at the Bishop of Geneva's, he was invited to
sit, layman as he was, and girt with his sword, in an
assembly of ecclesiastics, ana solved subtle questions in
theology, on which the wisest there could not agree.
Such, too, is that other beautiful anecdote we have
already given of his travelling* with his preceptor in
the forest of Sonnaz, when his sword and scabbard
thrice fell from his baldrick, and formed the figure of
a cross upon the gi'ound. The whole picture of the
old priest and the youthfiU noble riding in tiie forest,
his eye arrested by the sign of the cross accidentally
formed by the sword, and his tracing in the occuiTcnce
an indication of God's will — all leads one to those soft
and holy scenes we meet with, in the midst of so much
of a different character, in such a romance as the Mori
d^ Arthur.

When we reflect that, to a naturally pure and noble
disposition, there was in St. Francis de Sales added that
dignity, which among his class in old Europe before
the revolutionary times was almost a second natiu*e, and
that this was the material which Divine grace moulded
into a supernatural form, and seemed to rejoice in
lavishing its richest oniaments upon it, we can well fancy
that the result must have been something extraordinary.
People imagine St. Francis de Sales' character to have
been marked chiefly by a sort of sugary and somewhat
cloying sweetness. We have shown what a mistake
this is. There is a sweetness which is the resalt of a
certain childishness of mind, and which becomes fretful-
ness the moment really trying circumstances ap|)ear
His was the disciplined sweetness of a gracious soul, at
peace with itself and full of the light of heaven. Had
It l)€en any thing else, people would not have stood in
awe of him as they did. The Bishop of Belley, who
ebflarr ed him with mora than the Tigilanoe and aoourac^r

169

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of ft Bof/welly writes on this subject in singularlj strik-
ing terms, which are worth quoting at length. ** Our
Saint/' he says, '' with this aid of grace, knew how to
onite in himself these two admirable qualities of gravity
and sweetness. He knew how to accompany with so
much afTability and sweetness that ray c^ mpjesty and
honour which giace diffused over his brow, chat you
would havo said it was a Moses, who was veiUnff his
luminous visage to converse famiharlv with his brethren.
If he had attractions to make himselV loved, he had also
so much g^vity and modesty that one could not choose,
but fear, or at least respect him ; but with a respect so
lull of love, that I know many people who trembled on
approaching him, not so much for fear of displeasing
him (for nothing displeased him, and the modest were
always well received by him), but for fear of not pleasing
him enough. I have known persons of high quality,
whose ordinary conversation was with tlie g.eutest
princes and pi Incesses, who declared to me that they
composed themselves witii more attention when they
were in his presence than they did when in the ni^sence
of those goas of the eaith ; it being their opinion that
GoJ had set in his visage a ray of His light, which
penetrated them even to tiie heait." {Eitvrity xiv. 7.)
Of this digiity of denieanom, wliicn is indeed a
ouality more rar^lv to be found than greatness of mind,
tne Bishop of Belley gives a most curious illustration.
Having made it his business to wntch Francis, and
note down all his sayings and customs, it occun-ed to
the good bishop that it would he extremely interasting
to know liow Francis conducted himself when alone.
He resorted to a very simjile expedient to discover this,
which he relates with much nni'vefS. " I must liera tell
you one of my tricks. When he came to see me at my
residence, ana to pass his usual octave there, which bo
never failed to do every year, I had purposely made
holes in certain places, to watch him when he was re*
tired alone in hu chamber, tn see how he carried him*
■ilf IB ftad J, al prAjor^ a fmdmg, in ■nditaiiofy ia

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littmf;^, in waHdng^, in lyinj^-down, in rising, in writing
•nd) to be brief, in the most trifling occasions wbereini
wben alone, one often gives oneself liberty. Never-
theless, I never observed him dispense himself from the
most exact law of modesty : such he was alone as in
company, such in company as alone; an equality of
bodily demeanour similar to that of his heart. Being
alone, he was as composed as if in a rreat assembly.
If he was praying, you would have said he was in tne
presence ot the angels and of all the blessed. Motion*
less as a dove, and with a countenance full of awe, I
even took notice, seeing him by himself, vr'iether ho
crossed his legs, or whether he placed his knees oyer
each other, or whether he rested Lis head on his elbow.
Never. Always a gravity, accompanied with such t
sweetness, that filled all those who looked at him with
love and reverence." ( Esprit f iv. 1.) For such a les-
son one can forgiye tlie good bishop for his astonish-
ing infringement of the usual laws of hospitaUty and
good breeding. After all, to have such a person as
Francis in the house, was hke entertaining a superior
being. Other witnesses speak la just the same way.
Jane Fitmces de Chantal, in that beautiful letter m
which she describes his character, speaks of " the great
•plrndour of his countenance" when he said Mass ; and
how, when he earned the Blessed Sacrament in procos-
non, " you would have seen him like a cherubim, al)
luminous." '^0 Jesus i" she exclaims, ** how admirable
was the order which God had plaeed in that blessed
sou! ! Every thing was so arranged, so calm, and the
liffht of God so clear, that he saw even the least atomi
of its movements. That soul was more pure than the
sun, and more white than snow, in its actions, in its
resolutions, in its designs and affections." And, coming
more to the subject ot that external grandeur so natunu
to such a soul, she gives us another key to it in tha
value the Saint put upon his office as bishop : ** As for
his dignity," she says, " what honour and respect did
Im \mr to iti Cartainly hia humility by no

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»T. PHANClt DA SALBi.

aindflred the exercise of the gravity, majesty, and rer»
ranee due to his Quality of bishop. My Ood ! might I
dare to say it ? 1 say it, if I may : it simply seems to
me that m^ Blessed Father was a living imnge, in which
the Son of God our Lord was painted ; for truly, the
order and the economy of that holy soul was aitogcither
supernatural and divine.'*

His natural character had aconsiderabi^tin^c of the
country in which he lived, — simple, beautsfiil, m'\\ yt
g^rand, like the Alpine mouiitairs. He was fjonscious of
a strong predilection for his country, and seerjs to have
delighted in it, and to have Mi that it gave him a spe-
cial influence. Thus, we have seen how toucLingly he
brings this out in the dedication \>( his controversial
work to the inhabitants of Thonon, wh^re he snys tbst
the air of his book is " wholly Savoyai d ; aij;i it ..^ a
sai'vf ary recipe an(f last remedy, since it is the return
to ^o'iiT u vtive air." This beautiful metaphor must
have ^\Oim to the hearts of those to whom it was ad-
dressee,, The Catholic Church was their native home,
whither they should retire to be refreshed, as with
the cool mountain-breezes of their infancy. Writing to
the governor of Savoy, to remove some jealousy that
the Duke might feel in the then state of aiFuirs between
Bavoy and Fi*ance, in consequence of a visit be had
made to Lyons, Francis says, " I am essentiaHy a
Savoyard, both I and all mine; and I could never be
any thing else." It is interesting to notice all this,
because of the refutation it g^ves to the notion that
Catholicity interfei*es with the warmest attacliment >o
country and kindred, lie loved his own people, and
was thoroughly at home with them. The very boat-
men on the Lake of Annecy called him " Father." In
a charming chanter of the Exprity where the Bishop of
Belley tells us ot a sailing excursion they had on the lake,
we read how he was reproved by Francis when he wanted
the boatmen to call the holy prelate " My Lord" instead
of the endearing name of " Father." His works ant
ooAfMifttioiui aMund in iUuftmtioDt dtti? ad bom tb

e>. XXII.] tT. FRANCIS Ol lALIl.

165

Alpine toennrjr. The foUowinr ii a rery pleasing in-
•^Anoe. Writing to a friend, ne feiays: "I protest to
you, that on receiving jour letter, it seemed to me that
I was gathering flowers of incomparable sweetness on
the sunmiits of our mountains, where I then was.*' Again,
in relating the histonr of a visitation he Lad madf
through his diocese : "I even found God full of sweet-
ness and gentleness among our highest and roughest
mountains, where many smtiple souls were cherishing
f^nd adoring Him in aU trutn and sincerity ; and the
roes and chamois were running hither and thiither
amidst the frightful glaciers to proclaim His pi-aises : it
is time that, tor want of devotion. I only imderstood a
few words of their languages ; out it seemed to me
that they said beautiful thmgs. Your St Augustine
would have understood them well if he had been thei-e."
In the same letter he relates the deep impression he re-
oeiveil ii-om an accident that had taken place " in this
country of the glaciers" dunn^ his journey. A shep-
herd was going about the glaciere to recover a stray
heifer ; he missed his footing, and fell into a deep cre-
vasse ; people came to rescue him ; and one of his neigh-
bours caused himself to be lowered bv a cord down
the flight fill precipice, where he founcf the ]wot man
dead and frozen ; and they drew liim ii]) iu all haste,
with the corpse in his arms, lest he too sliould perish
in the icy chasm. The Saint is profoundly struck with
every circumstance : the shp])heniwan(iiM-ing about those
teiTiule paths to regain one »tray lu;ifer ; his eagerness
in the pursuit, which makes him forget his own safety ;
the alacrity of his neighbour, who descends into the
abyss that he may rescue his friend from his peril. Tr
was like a parable of our Lord's in actual life. He iKms^
not enlarge on it, but says simply, " Quel aiffvillon pou*
moiy ma ekh^e filleT One sees the influence of the
scenery upon his style; his fondness for introducing
metaphors from the frequent changes of the atmosphere
Ji a mountainous region ; from the vintages, from bees,
^om birds, from flowtrsi ana limilAr natunl objaott,

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of wlii)h he was evidently a rreat obsenrer. One mt
nous eharacteristio of his sty^ is his habit of drawing
illustrations fi'om the senses of taste and smell, of which
a familiar instance has passed fi'om his writinj^ into
many religious books; we allude to that of making up
from his morning's meditation a spiritual bouquet witn
which to refresh himself during the day. Another
favourite set of comparisoiis he draws from the old
treatises of natural history, in which he seems to hare
taken great delight, such as the legends about the hal-
eyon, the birds ot Paradise, the formation of pearia
from the dew-drops, and imagery of that fanciful yet
beautiful description. Occasionally there is a most
poetic spirit in his illustrations; for example, in the
preface to the Treatise on the Love of Oody where he
compares the plea^in effect produced on his mind^
amiast the pressure o^ business, by always keeping be-
fore him the plan of so ne pious treatise or other, to the
repose which engraveis and jewellei's find is afforded
to their wearied eyes, by looking from time to time ob
some beautiful emerald. This sweetness of style, how
erer, does not deceive us; for in eveiT page lie shows
so keen an insight into the heart, that he keeps us, as
were, in awe, whilst he attracts us by his gentleneek
This is singularly shown in a set of questions for self-
examination to be found among his smaller treatises,
where the shortness and the simplicity of his questions,
coming straight to the conscience like the piercing of
ft sword, show one that Francis de Sales, with all his
gentleness, was not a man to be trifled with, and that
his sweetness in reality derives its essential character
from that burning hatred for sin with which one who
loved God so ardently was of necessity imbued.

His hfe possesses the charm of singular unitj
Many holy men have fallen i.i some period of theit
lives, and have exhibited wonrteifii' example of the
power of penance to bring back lioliness even greater
than innocence. Many good men, without being b»
Irajed into aotoal sin, Lave y%% strftyad mora or isM

OB XTII.] IT. VmAVOIl 91 f All

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from the path on'fpnallj intended for them bj Bivint
Provid(>nce, have taken inconsiderate steps, ana embar-
rassed tlieir career. But there is in the life of Francii
de Sales a completeness and harmony, wliich distin-
guishes it no less from the chiss of heroic penitents than
Iron* the chequei d scene of mistakes and corrections,
u. tailing' and nsin^^ ag'ain, which chainicterises the hie
of most men. He never lost baptismal innocence ; each
ffreat action of his hfe is preceded, accompanied, and
followed by prayer. His days are full ; lie does all
tiling " passionatKly well/' infusing- into the calmness
and (leliberateness ot a course which never steps an inch
in advance of God*s will, an intensity far greater than
the vehemence which higlily-excited feelings coula im
part to those who act from merely natural motiyeu.

In these times, and to Protestant readers, his life
and works are peculiarly instnictive, for this reason,
that whilst none can deny his singular holiness, it if
equally imi)ossibIe to deny that that holiness was from
beginning to end the product of the most complete
&ith in the teaching of the Catholic Church. It must
always be remembered, remarked an Anghcan paper,*
in reviewing a volume of translations from his works
which appeared some time since {Practical Piety
aet forth ty St. Francii de Sales\ "that St. Francis
de Sales was a thorough Roman Catholic." Nothing
can be more true. Wuilst it would be easy for Angh-
eans to " adapt" his writing, or consideraole parts of
them, as Thomas k Kempis may be abridged or al-
tered, it could never be concealed, that such character-
istics as the most tender devotion to the Blessed Virgin
and St. Joseph, and to the relics of Saints, the continual
application of the Huly Sacrifice of the Mass, and the
)resence of that sacrificial view of daily actions which is
lerived from it, the constant recollection of the suffering
Jhurch in purgatory, the devotion to the Five Blessed
Wounds and to the Sacred Heart cf Jesus, ani, vn fine.

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all that people consider as most distmotiTelj ** Homaa
Catholic, pervades the whole of his teaching^ and worki;
as much as they do those of St. Philip Neri and his dis-
ciples. Tlis life is thus one great testimony to the truth
or Catholicity, inasmuch as it all hangps indissolubly to-
gether, and you caimot separate his charity from hii
faith. If tliese ff>w notices, aided by the powerful in-
tercession of the Blessed Saint, lead even one soul to per-
ceive the force of thir arf^ument, or in any way promota
the study of the teach\^^ of St Francis, or extend mors
widely the devotion towards him, richly indeed will tb*
writer feel that his labours have been rewarded.

■'■■v .

^SLECTIONS

VBOM «■»

' 'IV*

^IMRIT OF ST. FRANCIS DE SALES.'

BT THE BISHOP 0? BULBT.

It has been our cpood fortune to haye had transmitted
to us more nbundiint memorials of this most sweet and
chnrmiripr Saint thaij perhaps of any other in the calendar.
What witli his writing's and lettei-s, we seem to have a
thoroiig-h and familiar actjuaintance with every linea-
ment of his cfiuracter; while, to complete the portrait,
we enjoy the })enefit of the reminiscences of a contem-
porary and intimate friend, John Pierre Camus, Bishop
of Belley, himself remarkable for a higfh degree of
sanctity, an«i upon whom St. Francis had laid his holy
hands in consecration.

FroTn the work containin*^ these recollections, en-
titled " The Spirit of St. Franci" de Sales," and which is
usually pi'efixed to the Saint's wr:t' ;g«, a few selections
have been made, as forming- ai> a; propriate complement
to his life. As M. de Delley nUopted no systematic
plac in the memoi-ial of his mend's vii-tues which he
nas bequeathed to us, so neither will it be necessary to
follow nim in the exact order which he has chanced to
observe. Forced by limited space to make a selection,*

* The extracts have been put together, nnder the direotioo
if one of the Editors of the series, by way of an Appandix I)
ir. Onslqr** Lif» of the 8aint

100

•T. FRANCIS DB SALS8.

the tninslator ban therefore thougflit it bout to gro«f
the paMaget in their most natural connection.

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1ST h*'^-r 4 •«

SAnrr ■ smtBTwcBt, craritt, aitd rBAOTion ov

rRATKHMAL OOHKBOTIOM.

The ipirit of St. Francis was pre-eminently a spirit of
sweetne88 — ruper mel dulcis ; tljut supeinHtiiiHl sweet-
ness which is, as it were, the cream and the Hower of
chanty. Dut its preciuusness is hest felt when exhi-
bited in conibinutiun and harmony with those other
Christian virtues and g^races which the Saint |>ossessed
in 80 eminent a de^p'ee ; for sucii is one of tiie distm-
guisliing marks of t^upcnmtural virtue, tliat its promi-
nence never implies any op|>osite defect, but the very
reverse; whereas it is sehlum that any purely natural
quality, when very remarkable, is not accompanied by
kome at least slig-ht defect in what may be called the
counterbalancing- quality. It is as thou;j;-h one pole
could not be raised without the de])re88ion ol its opposite.
The quotations which follow will exhibit this beautiful
harmony in the Saint's character.

Of the hisrh esteem in which St. Francis held the
virtue of gentleness^ we have an example in the follow-
ing anecdote related by M. de Belley :

" A young man was once brought to him for the
purpose of receiving a severe reprimand ; nevertheless,
ne spoke to him with his habitual sweetness, and per*
eeivmg the youth's obduracy, he onl^ shed tears, re<
marking that his hard and unyieldmg heart would
bring him to a bad end. Being told that his mother
had cursed him, he said, ' Oh ! this is sad indeed. If
the poor woman is taken at her word, in vain will she
afterwards curse her own curse. Unhappy mother of »
•till more wretched son !'

*' The Saint proved too true a prophet ; for the youth
ptrished, not Umg- after, in n iniseranle duel ; his bodj

•T. PRAIVOIB 01 BALBt. 10J

leeame the pnj of dogt and woWet, and hit motha
difld of grief.

'* In reply to those who found fault with him for
having reproved with too much gentleness on this oc-
casion, he said, * What would vou hav« hud me do ?
I did my best to arm myself with an anger free ii-om
•in; I took my heart in both my hands [a fuvourite
expression of the Suint^s, as has been seen], and 1 had
not the resolution to throw it at his head. 13 ut, truth
to say, I was afraid of letting that littl** dro|) of meek-
DOM, which it has taken me twenty -two yetii's' labour
to store up like dew in the vessel of my henit, run off
in a quarter of an hour. The bees are seveinl months
making a little honey, which a man will swallow down
in a mouthful. Besides, what is the use of 8])enking
when we are not hstened to? This youtii was iuuo-
eessible to remonstrances, for the light of his eyes — his
judgment, I mean — was not with him. I should have
ione him no p^ood, and myself, |)erliaps, much harm,—
like one who is drowned in his attempt to save another
Charity must be prudent and judicious.' "

It was "oMom, however, that the heart of the sin-
ner was proof against his gentleness. Among other
anecdotes of a like nature, tue Bishop relates the fol-
lowing:

''While engaged in one of his diocesan visitations,
great complaints were made to him of an ecclesiastic
who nve scandal by his life, and whose habits but ill
iccoraed with the theolo^cal science for which he was
remarkable. This ecclesiastic presented himself before
the holy prelate with as much boldness as if he had
been perfectly innocent of all that had been laid to his
ehar^, and loudly treated the matter as a calumny.
The Saint gave him a very gracious reception, charao-
ferised by his accustomed oenignity ; but when he
beheld the efiirontery with which the offender justified
himself, he blushed in his presence. The very change
ni countenance, unaccompanied by any other correo-
tiony tooohed the heart of this impenitent sinner. He

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ST. FRANCIS DB SALBS.

resolved to disarm his judge by confession, and begged
the holy Bishop to hear him in the tribunal of penancik
Immediately, not an ear only, but still more a hearty
was open to him, and ho came out of this health-giving
pool like Naaman from the watera of the Jordan ; his
race sufiiised with that holy shame which conducts to
glory.

" * Well, monseigneur,' he said, * what think you
of the greatest sinner upon earth V * That God has
poured His abundant mercy on you,* replied the holy
man ; * you are all resplendent with gfrace in my eyes/
' But you know what I reallv am,' he rejoined. * Yon
are such as I have said.' ' I mean, what I have been.'
* Of that,* replied the Saint, * I have no recollection.
Why should I keep up the memory of what God has
consigned to oblivion r W ould you take me for that
Pharisee who esteemed Magdalen according to whaic
she had been, not according to what she was when
washing her Saviour's feet with her tears? And to
prove to you,' he added, * that I look upon you as re>

Elenished with heavenly g^ces, of which your heart
as received a full measure and running over, I beg
you to make me a partaker of it by giving me your
Uessing.' So saying, he threw himseu at the ecclesi-
astic's feet, to the exceeding jrreat confusion of the
latter. ' No,' said the Saint, M am in earnest ; I en-
trjat you to render me the same office I have ])er-
formed for you, and to hear my confession.' The other
refused, but he constrained him to acouiesce; and it
is impossible to express how great' v he was edified
thereby. And fiirtiier to convince nim that he was
perfectly sincere in the esteem he pP ofessed for him, he
made his confession to him two or hree times consecu-
tively in sight of the public, who icarcely knew which
to admire most, the prodigious bimility of the saintly
Bishop, or the miraculous conversion of the ecclesiastic.
" One day a person came to him to confession who
detailed his sins with so much boldness, not to say im.
podencei and with such a total want of all feeling or

•T. FBANCI8 It& SALB8.

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aompnnctioii, that he might have heen supposed to
be narratmg a story, and to be even listening to him-
self discoursing with a certain self-complacency. Thm
Saint, who, from the tone in which the penitent spok^
knew the inward indisposition of his soul, since of
the three conditions for the sacrament of penance he
brought but one, confession, and that of a very imper-
fect kind, being devoid of that modesty and holy shame
which ought to accompany it, without interrupting his
narration, began to weep and sigh and sob. The other
asked him what was the matter, and if he was ill.
* Alas ! my brother,' he replied, * I am very well, thank
God; but you are very ill.* The other boldly an-
swered that he too was in good health. * Well/ said
the holy man, ' go on.* Tne man continued, in the
fame off-hand manner, relating shocking things with-
out any sense of sorrow, and the Saint's tears redoubled.
Again the penitent asked him what he was weeping
for. * Alas !' he replied, ' I weep because you wee^
not.* He who had oeen insensible to the first prick—*
the hour of grace, as we have reason to believe, having
now oome — was not callous to the second; and the
rock, struck by this rod, suddenly giving forth water, he
exclaimed, * wretched man that I am ! who feel no
sorrow for my enormous sins, which draw tears from
him who is innocent.' So powci'fully was he touched,
that he was very near fainting, had not the Saint con-
soled him ; then instructing him how to make his act
of contrition, which the penitent performed with won-
derful compunction, he put him in a proner state to
receive the grace of the sacrament. From that moment
this man gave himself entirely to God, and became a
model of penance.

" The penitent confided all this to one of his inti
mate friends (who related the circumstance without
mentioning the individual's name), but witii the addi-
tion of the following rather pleasing remark : * Othei
oonfessors,' he said, ' sometimes make their penitents
weep ; but as for me, I made my confessor weep. It

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is trae, he jpiud it me back to the full ; and God granti
for my sours salvation, that the change may have been
ffeuuine, and that I may never lose the grace which hit
benediction then conferred upon me/ *'

Hare is an instance of his leniency to offenders :
** An ecclesiastic belonging to his diocese had been
imprisoned for some scanddous offence. The Saint was
urgently entreated by his officers to allow him to be
pimished as the law enjoined. His gentleness accord-
mgly submitted to compulsion, and he let them have
their way. Besid&i the penances which the culprit had
to undergo in prison, he was interdicted from aJl eccle-
tiastical functions for six months. So far from being
amended by this treatment, he, on the contrary, grew
worse, and it was found necessary to deprive him of
his benefice and expl him from the diocese. While in
prison no one could seem more docile, more humble,
and more penitent ; he wept, he entreated, he promised,
he protested. When threatened with being deprived
of his benefice, he promised to amend; but after having
eluded justice so many times, he found the door of
mercy closed against him. Some months afterwards,
another ecclesiastic was imprisoned for faults no less
serious. The officers wished to treat him similarly,
and hinder him from having recourse to the mercy of
the blessed Francis, his bishop, to whom he was con>
tinually appealing, protesting that he was willing to
give up his charge, provided it were at his feet, confi-
dent that he would oe able to read the sincerity of his
repentance in his eyes. The Saint commanded him to
be brought before nim. His officers objected. ' Well,'
he said, ' if you will not let him appear before me, jou
cannot forbid my appearing before nim. You will not
allow him to leave ms prison, sutfer me, then, to enter
within its walls and share his captivity with him. Wa
must indeed console this dear brother who calls upon
vs. I give you my word that he shall not come forth
without your consent.' He acv jrdingly visited him in
hif prison, aooompanied bj his oiBcers. Scarcely did

ST. FRANCIS DB SALES.

at behcid this miserable man at his feet, when lie fell
apon liis neck, bathed in tears, and loving-Iy embraced
and kissed him ; then, turning- to his officers, ' Is it
possil)le,' he said to them, ' tliut you do not j)erceive
that God has ah'eady tbr^viMi this man? Is there
any condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus?
If God justifies iiim, who is he that shall condemn him ?
Assuredly not I. Go, my brother,' he said to the
guilty man, — * ffo in peace, and sin no more ; I kno'V
uiat you are truly penitent.' The officers told him *\n
was a hypocrite; that the former offender, whom it hw
been found necessary to depose, made much strong'er
demonstrations of repentance than this one. * Perhaps/
rejoined the Saint, ' he would have bwen truly converted
if you had treated him with more lenity. Have a care
\e»t his soul may be asked at your hands some day.
As for me, I am willing* to be security for this man, if
you will accept of me as such. I am persuaded tha*
Lis heart is truly touched ; and if he is deceiving me,
he will injure himself more than me.' The ofiender,
bursting mto tears, begged that any penance judged
fitting should be laid upon him in prison ; that lie was
prepared for any thing, his sorrow giving him more
pain than any penance could ; and that he would him-
self yoluntarily resign his benefice, if the Bishop thought
proper. *I sliould be very sorry you should do so/
replied the Saint; ' the more so, as I hope that, even as
the falling steeple crushed the church by the scandal it
gaye, so, replaced upon its base, it. shall henceforth adorn
it by its virtues.' Ihe officers yielded, and the prison-
doors were thrown open. After being suspended d
divinis for a month, he resumed the exercise of his
charge, in which be subsequently gave so holy an ex-
ample, that the Saint's prediction was fulfilled. As
the conversation turned one day in his presence upon
the perversion of the on« and the conversion of the
other, he uttered these mejuorable v. ords : ^ Better make
penitents by gentleness than hypocrites by severity.' "
Zeal was consequently a virtue which he regarded

ST. FRAXCIS DB SALES.

P i.i

■ >'.■ I '•i-HW

1:1

with much mispicion : " Keeping peacocks," he would
•ay, " ffood mann(>-6rs tell us, costs more in a country-
place tiian it profits ; for ultliouj^h they devour spidei-s,
caterpillars, mice, and sucli-like vermin, on the other
hand they injure roof's, scare away the pigeons hy their
screams, an(( heat the otlier fowls."

" Sjwakinn;' of fraternal coirection/* says M. de
Belley, "our olessed Francis often |*;ave me an impoii;-
ant lesson ; I say often, bocauso he i'ep<;!it('d and in-
culcated it frequently, that he miglit imprint it deeply
on mv memory. Tins excellent maxim may he useful
to all, hut esi)ecially to those who rule or who have
the charg-e of others. ^ That truth,' he said, ' which
is not charitable proceeds from a charity which is not
txue.' A faithful saj^ing, worthy to be received and
deeply pondered.

" lie had been informed, by the sure report of wit-
nesses who had both heard and seen what they related,
that when I entered on my episcopal charg-e I mani-
fested, in my diocesan visits, a zeal both severe and'
excessive, or, to speak more clearly, which was deficient
i)oth in discretion and in science ; and that in this spirit
I administered harsh reproofs couched in bitter woi'ds.
He one day seized a pwouer opportunity, with his ac-
customed pnidence, discretion, and skill, which were no
less admiral>le than his g-entleness, to insinuate into my
mind this g^olden saying, which has ever since remained
so deeply eng^ven there that I have never fcrg-otten ft.

" I asked our Saint, one day, how we mig-ht be
able to recognise whether the correction we g-ave pro-
ceeded from charity. He replied, with that solidity of
judg;ment which served as a guide to all his actions
and as a light to all his words, * Truth proceeds fi'om
chanty when we speak it only from the love of God
aad for the good of^ him whom we reprove. It is bettei
to be silenv than to speak a truth ungraciously ; for
this would be to present a good dish badly cocked, or
to adiLimster medicine unseasonably.' * But i? not
tiiit to detain truth a pxisontr unjustly?' ' ^'^'-t^ulT

^^■

ST. FRA>XIS D£ BALE».

id?

not ; to ftct otherwise would be to bring* it fortli un-
justly ; because the real justice of truth, and the truth
of justice, resides in charity. A judicious silence in
always j)refei'able to an uncharili^ble w:"ith.'

" On another occasion, in(juirin<;,- of our Saint fox
some other mark by which we might loiow when a re-
proof was animatea by charity, ho, whose heart was (so
to say) alto«^ether steeped in sweetness, replied, accord-
ing to the s})irit of the g-reat Apostle, ^ When it is made
in the spirit of meekness (Gal. vi. 1). Gentleness is,
in fact, the gi-eat friend of charity, and its insej)ai"abie
companion.* He recommended the imitation of the
good Samaritan, who poured oil and wine into the poor
man's wounds. It was a favourite S8yin«j with him,
that to make a g-ood salad there should oe more oJ
than vinegar or salt.

** Here is another of his remsikable sayings on this
subject, which he repeated to me several times ; * Be
as gentle always as possible ; and remember tha * Jt
will catch more flies with a spoonful of honey i;hal
with a hundred barrels of vinegar ; if we must fall into
one extreme or the other, let it be into that of sweet
ness , no sauce was ever spoilt by too much sugar
Such is the natm*e of the human mind, it rebels against
severity, but gentleness renders it amenable to every
thing. A soft word appeases anger, as water extin-
guishes fire. No soil so ungititeful but kirdness can
make it bear fruit. T^ speak truths sweetly is to th/ow
burning coals, or rather roses, into a person's &ce.
How can any one be angry with another who fights
him with pearls and diamonds ? Reproof Is in its na-
ture a harsh thing ; but cooked in sweetness, and so
roasted at the fire of chai'ity, it becomes a pleasant and
delicious cordial.'

^ * But,' said I, * truth is always truth, however it
mtj be spoken, or however it may be received ;' and 1
armed xnTself with that text of St. Paul to "nmothy.
Prmeh the ward; he inetant in season^ out qfteoioii;
ttfirofoe, entreaty rebuke in all patience ana ddfctrtMs

:)n\ >1,

\ .,

A '■!!«:

tfr. FRANCIS DB SALES.

(9 Tim. IV 2). 'The pith of this apostohc lesson/ he
replied, * consists in these two words, in all patience
and doctrine. Doctrine sij^ifies truth, and this tioith
is to be spoken with all patience ; tijat is to say, we
must endure repulse, and not fancy tliat it is always to
be raceived with appIausG ; for if the Son of God was an
object of contradiction, His doctrine, which is thit of
truth, must be signed with the same maik. Every
man who would instruct others in the way of Justice
must make up his mind to bear their caprice and in-
justice, and to receive ingratitude as his payment.' "

While so careful to avoid the faulrs into which the
practice of this difficult duty is apt to lead, St. Francis
well understood and fulfilled the obligation of fraternal
correction.

" This good father," observes the Bishop, " often
reproved me for my faults ; and then he would saj, * I
expect you to be very much obliged to me for this ; it
is the greatest mark of friendship I can give you ; and
I should look upon it as a proof of your love if yon
would do the like for me in return. But in this respect
I find you very cold ; you ai*e too cautious ; love has a
bandage on its eyes, and is not so nice ; it goes straight
m without so many reflections. It is because I love
you so much, that I cannot endure the least imper-
fection in you. I should wif^h my son to be such as
St. ?aul desired to see Timothy, blameless. Things
which I should account as flies m one who was not so
dear to me, look like elephants in you whom I truly
love, as God knows I do. Would not that surgeon m
to blame, and be rather cruel than compassionate, who
should allow a man to die ibr want oi the resolution
to dress his wound ? A strol* o of the tongue in season
is sometimes as profitable for the soul's health as a cut
of the lancet for that of the body. It requires some-
times but a judicious bleeding to save a man's life, or a
timely reproof to preserve a soul from eternal death.' **

A few examples of St. Francis's loving coiTection,
iD whioh the good Bishop gives himself up to justice ia

■ V

IT. VRAN0I8 BB BALIS.

1(»

ft nost delicious manDer, in order to exhibit the meriti
UKi illustrate the spirit of liis revered fatliAr, may prove
boti instructive ana entertaining;.

** lie had been told tliut I was extremely long^ in
makinn;> my prepamtion for saying Mass, which was a
great inconvenience to every one. Of this he desired
to correct me. He had come to see me at Belley, ac-
cording to our annual custom of visiting each other.
It so liappened, tiiat wliile at my house, he had one
moiTiing to send otf a number of despatches, which
detained him in his own room to a late hour. It was
nearlv eleven o'clock, and he had not yet said Mass.
which he never omitted any day, unless he was pre-
vented by illness or other serious impediment. Down
he came, then, to the chapel in his rochet and mozetta ;
and after his morning' salutations to the persons he
found there, he proceeded to the altar, where he made
a short prayer, then vested himself and said Mass.
When it was over, ho knelt down again, made another
shoii; prayer, and rejoined the company with a face so
verene that ho looked to me like an angel, and con-
tinued conversing with us till we were shortly after
summoned to table. I, who was in the habit of closely
observing all his actions, felt surprised at the briefness
of this preparation and thanksgiving^. When alone with
han that evening, I said to him, with the confidence of
a son, * My father, for a man of your stature, you seem
to me to go i-ather fiist. I noticed your preparation
and thanksgiving this morning, and thought them both
very short.

" * How much pleasure you give me !'* he exclaimed,
embracing me, * by telling me wliat you think frankly.
"For these three or four days I have had something of
a like sort on my mind to say to you, and scarcely

* O Dieu : que voua me/aites plaisir I The exclamation^ hen
•ad eliewhero, is omitted where in English it would give quite
•nether ohanu!ter to the obserration. The name of Qod ia used
fan French, without the smallest irreverence, on common ooe*
iioni, where amongst us, i« would either impart an air of io>

iro

iT. FRANCIS J}U SALBS.

'vmt^

H'.

^ f

;)

knew how to introduce the subject. Come, what htkH .
jou to say fcr your own lenj^thinesses, which wearjr
people to death? Everybody makes loud complaints
jf them; possibly, however, this has never reached
your ears, so few persons are there wlio venture to
speak the truth to tlieir prelates. No doubt it is be*
cause no one here loves you as well as I do that the
commission has been entrusted to me : you may rely
upon it I have very sufficient authority to support me
without giving up my credentials. A little of your
excess would do us both a gfi-eat deal of g-ood; you
would get on somewhat quicker, and I should not gp
80 fast. Is it not a C'ood ioke that the Bishop a
Belley should reprove the B.ishop of Geneva for getting
on too fast, and the Bishop of oleneva blame the Bishop
of Belley for going too slow ? Is not this the world
turned upside down ? But do just think how little all
your fine agiosy and all those Duffrages and acts with
which you are busied in your oratory in the sacristy^
suit the people who have come to hear your Mass ; stil
less those wuo are waiting to speak to you on business
when Mass is over.' * But, my father,' I rejoined
' bow is one to prepare oneself pro|)erly for offering- the
Holy Sacrifice ? * Why do you not make your pre-
paration,' he replied, ' eai'ly in the morning, when I
know, or at least I believe, you never fail in the exer-
cise of prayer?' I told him that in summer I rose
at fou«*; ana did not say Mass till nine or ten o'clock.
' Do you ima^ne,' he repHed, * that an interval of four
or five hours is a very long space m His eyes with whom
a thousand years are but as the day that has passed ?'
'But the tnanksgiying — what of that?' 'Wait for
jonr fiTeaing devotions to make it. Would you no^

lannity aot ia aooordanoe w^th the intention of the rpeaker, or
•triks tbe ear, jerhAog, as an undue familiarity. Whatever may
be th* oaoM or this oiserefMncy between the English and most
Ikwvign tonfoas, it ia an indimutabln fact, which must be taken
It in trinriatioos wnieh would rendar the true spirU

•T. FRANCIS CB 8ALBS.

171

ladMdy feel it necessary to oonsider how so imfwrtant
•n action had been performed, when making' your ex-
amination of conscience ? — and does rot thanksg'i mncf
form a part of examen / Both these duties, then, can
be disciiarg'ed, and that with more leisure and tran-
quilhty, in the mornings and evening" ; this puts no one
to any inconvenience, and enables you to acquit your-
self of them better and more thoroug;lily, without mter-
fering" with the functions belon^ng* to vour charge or
weaiying" your neio-hbour.' * But,' I still objected, * will
it not have a disedifying* effect to see all this despatched
so quickly, since God does not wish to be worsiiijiped
on the run V * We may in vain iim,' he said ; * God
runs faster than we do. He is a S})irit, who, rising
in the east, shines at the same in tant in the west. All
is present to Him; with Him there is neither past noi
fuiwre ; whither can we g-o from His Spirit ? I ac-
quiesced in his advice, and have found the advantages
of it.

" One day I was complaining to our Saint of some
grievous wro"^., that haa been done me. The thing
was so very manifest, that he agreed to the ti*uth of
what I said. Finding myself so strongly supjwrted, I
felt triumphant, and grew very eloquent in dwelUng
upon the justice of my cause. The Saint, to put a stop
to all this superfluous discourse, ob.served, * It is true
that they were in every way to blame for treating you in
this manner ; such conduct was quite unworthy of them,
particularly towards a man of your condition. I see
out one circumstance in the whole affair to your dis-
advantage.' *What is that?' I asked. 'That you
have but to show your superior wisdom by homing
your tongue.' This answer so struck me, that I was
■ilent at onoe, and had not a word to offer m reply.

" It was his omnion, that the true servant of Ood
■ddom bx^r^plainea, and still more rarely desired to be
pitifld by others; observing that those who complain
to ^ rr friends, that they may be pitied m return, are
1^ dldren, who, when they have hurt a Anger,

179 ST. FRANCIS UB fiALEB.

toothed when their nurse has blown upon it, or pmtaudad

to CIT tO(

" One day I was coTDpIaining of son' ; great and
notable affront I had received. * To any or<o else but
yourself/ he replied, ' I should try and administer some
sootliing dose of consolation ; but your rank ard the
love I bear you dispense me from this little pittce of

JK>litenes8. I have no oil for your wound ; perh^ips if
' tried to assuage it, I mig-ht ag'giiivate the mflamma-
tion ; I have nothing but salt and vinegar to apply to
it. You concluded your complaint by saying that it re-
quires a prodigious patience, proof against every thing,
to suffer such assaults in silence. Certainly yours is
not of a very firm quality, since you make such loud
lamentations/ * But, my father,' I rejoined, * it is only
in you:' bosom and to the ear of your iieart. To whom
shall a child have recourse when he is vexed, if not to
his kind father ?' * true child, indeed ! how long will
you love childishness ? Does it become him who is a
father to others, to whom God has given the rank of a
father in His Church, to play the child himself? bt.
Pav! U'lls us, that as long as we are children, we may
spf F\k as such; but that, when grown up, the stammer-
mg Umgde wmch suits a sucking infant is unbecoming
m bim who is no longer a child. Would you have me

give J ju milk and oroth instead of solid meat, and
low upon your hurt like a nurse? Have you not
strong enough teeth to chew bread — nay, even hard
breac[--the bread of affliction ? It is a nne thing, in-
deed, to see you complaining to an earthly father you
who ought to say to your heavenly father, / wa*
dumbf and I opened not my mouthy because Thou kasi
done t^* But voi} will say, it is not God but vxea,
and the auemoly of the malignant, t What ! cav
yoi not discern the permissive wiU of God, vtdob
makes use of the malice of men either to correct joo
or to ezarcise you in virtue? Job had more disjem

*Fa.snvULia

t P«. IxUL i.

ST. FHANOIS DE f ALBS.

178

MtBt; for ha naid, 7^^ Lord gavej and the Lord hafli
town away.* He dues noi shv, the devils and the
toieTM; he looks only to the hand of God, who per>
tonne all thinsps by whatever instnimonts He pleases.
You are very tar from the spirit of him who said that
the rod and staff with which God struck him were hie
consolation ; and that he was as one that was deaf and
dumb, who refrained evaii from good words, which
might have served to jus* *"y him and prove his inno-
cence. But, my fatlio' will say, smce when liuve
you become so sevei -'»d your gentleness into
cruelty ? as Jobf said Vnere are Tli^ ancient
mercies fX Ceitainly i. u. >:ission is as Iresh and
new as ever; for God kn -ws if I love you, or if I love
myself better than you; and the reproach I make to
vou is what I should make to my ow^n soul, if it had
Droken out in the same way. Well, I forgive you, as
a matter of indulgence, to use the Apostle's terms ; but
on condition that you will be more coumgeous for the
fiiture, and bhut up such-like favours, when God shall
vouchsafe them to you, in the stiong box of silence,
without letting their pei'fume evaporate, giving thanks
in your heart to your heavenly rather for bestowins
upon you a small particle of His Son's cross. What i
you take pleasure in wearing a g-olden cross on youi
bosom, ana you cannot bear a little one on your heart
without manifesting it by yorr complaints ? And then,
when they escape you, you make a wonderful appeal to
patience, and would have me esteem you patient, for-
sooth, while listening" to your lamentations, as if the
great effect of patience were to hinder one from taking
revenge, and not to stop complaints. But as for that,
I do tnink you commit an en'or ii invoking the aid ol
•o great a power as patience in the insult you have re-
eeived. It is too noble a second for so contemptible a
doflL A little modesty and silence might suffic^v yoi* '

• Job L 11.

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ind to he dtsmissed me with this brief mortifiaiUoBi
but 10 fortified by my rebufP, that it seemed to me, m
f left him, that ul the affironts in the world could not
haTe eztraeted a word from me.

** To a woman who complained to him that when*
ever her husband enjoyed good healtli he went to the
wars, and that when he was wounded or sick he canw
back, and was so fretful as to be quite unbearable, he
replied, ' What sauce can we find to suit you ? 'When
he is well, he cannot bear to stay with you, nor you
with him when he is ill. If you loyed each other only
in Qodf you would not be subject to these changes ;
your affection would be always the same, whether ateent
or present. Beg this ffrace earnestly of God, others
wise I have little hope ^at you will enjoy any peace.' "

But if the charily of St. fVancis was displayed alike
m the sweetness and the sincerity of his reproofs, so
also was it manifested in tender regard for the reputa-
tion of his neighbour, and in his unwillingness to be-
lieye evil of any one.

" His goodness of heart," says M. de Belley, ** was
so great as to preyent him fix>m thinking ill eyen of the
ba£ He did all he could to coyer the defects of his
neighbour, sometimes alleging human infirmity, some-
times the violence of temptetion, sometimes the number
of those who were guilty of similar firalts. When these
sins were so public ana evident that it was impossible
to throw a veu over them, he took refuge in the future.
* Who knows,' he would say, ' whether he will not be
converted? and who are we that we should judge our
brethiren ? If God did not uphold us with His grace,
we should do worse, and our souls would already be
dwellers in hell. The greatest sinners sometimes be*
oome the greatest penitents, witness David and so many
others; and their penitence edifies more persons than
the scandal they gave destroyed. God knows how to
vaise up from stones children to Abraham. The won-
derful changes which His right hand effects causea
vesiels of i^ominy to become vessels of honour* He

ST. FRANCIS DB SALES.

176

would hear of despair of smners' oonTsrsion to
dMir yery last breath, ^y^gt that this life is the road
of our pilgrimage, in which those who stand may fall.
and those who rail may by grace rise again. He went
still ftirther; for even when dead, he would not permit
an evil judgment to be foimed of such as had led an
evil life, save in the case of those whose damnation is
evident from Scripture. With this exception, he would
have us not seek to enter into the secret of God, which
He has reserved to His wisdom and power. His prin-
cipal reason was this, that as the first grace was not
within the reach of merit, so also the last g^race, final
perseverance, was not accorded to merit: Who hath
nnanm the judgments of the Lordf and mho hath
been JBie counsmor?* Accordingly, even after the last
breath had been drawn, he would have us hope the best
of the deceased, however bad a death he might seem
to have made, oecaose we could but ^und our con-
jectures on outward appearances, which may deceive
the most acute. Apnmos to this, he related to me th»
following snecdute : ' A preacher of an indulgent dis-
position, spealdng of the heresiarohf who caused the re-
volt of the Church of Geneva, said, that we must not
speak decisively of the damnation of any one after
mth, save of those whom Piripture has declared to
be reprobate, not even of thav heresiarch who was the
author of so much evil by his errors. For who knows,
he said, whether Ood may not have touched his heart
at the moment of death, and whether he may not have
been converted ? It is true, he continued, that out of the
Church, and without tme faith, there is no salvation ;
but who knows if lie did not in his heart acknowledge
the truth of the faith he had opposed, and at the last die
truly penitent? After having kept his audience thus in
suspense, he concluded by saying. We ought, indeed, to
have very high sentiments of the goodness of God.
Jssos Christ offered His peaoci His love and salvstioi^

• Bon. ^. S4.

fC^IfUi.

■*,

'.1 :V

.'.'"ir.

178

■T. VBA1I0I8 OB SAL1

9wm to the traitor wlio betrayed Him with a kiss; why
may He not have oifHrefl tiie smm grace to this wretched
heresiarch ? Is God's arm shor ened ? Is He become
less kind and less merciful, He m ho is meroy itself, and
mercy without number, measun), or Hmit? But, he
added, believe me, and I can assure you I speak but the
truth, — if he was not damned, he had as narrow an es-
cape as ever man had ; and if he was saved ii'om that
everlasting shipwreck, he owed as handsome a candle*
to God as ever did any one of his soit.' This lively
•od quite unexpected conclusion did not draw many
' tears from the eyes of his auditors.

** Our Saint was in the habit of saying, that the soul
of our neighbour is the tree of the Icnowledspe of ^ood
and evil, w hich we aro forbidden to touch under nam of
chastisement, because God has reserved the juagment
.hereof to Himself. He observed an inconsistency very
eommon amongst men, who are by nature inclmed to
judge in a matter wliere they p % ignoitrnt — namely,
the Ulterior of others, while the^ aie averse to judging
of what they do know, or ought to know — their own
interior, llie first is forbidden, the second is com-
manded. In this they resemble a ce iain woman, who,
having made a point all her life of doinp precisely the
contrary to what her husband desireo, was at last
drowned in a river. Her hrsband being found ft
with for looking for her bodj in the contrary direct .
to the current, ' Do you t Jieve,' he replied, ' that
death will have deprived hei of her spirit of contradic-
tion V To avoid this vice, our Saint gave t'>e following
excellent rule : If an act may be viewed in a hundred
different lights, to look at it always in its fairest. If
we cannot excuse an action, we may soften it by ex-
cnnng the intention : if that be not possible, we mntt
Ikj it to the force or temptation, tr ignorance, or snr
prife, or human weakness, so as at least to strive to
diminish the scandal. In short, he said, those who

* An aUasion to the votite ofbringk mad* by saikf • Mei^«4
voin ptnL

lUSt

jBiir

re to

who

IT. FRANCIS DB 0ALB1. 177

kmp ft wfttcb over their conscience eeldom comm'.t iht
Hxit of rash judgments. It is the act of an idle soul
which has no occupation within it»3lf, to stop to somti-
nise other people's actions."

Here is a specimen of his cJdIl in ezonsinff his
neighbours. ** I was finding fault to him one day/ says
M. de Belley, ''with some little country-gentlemen,
who, althou^n as poor as Job, played the gref.t lords,
talking contmually of their nobility and the high deeds
of their ancestors. He replied with wonderful grace,
'What would you have? Do you wish these poor
^pie to be doubly poor 7 If they are rich in honour,
at any rate they tnink less of their poverty ; like that
young Athenian who was under the mental delusion
that be was the richest man in the country, and having
been cured of his madness by the care of his friends,
eaused them to be prosecuted tor having robbed him of
his pleasing imagination. What woula you have ? It
belongs to nobility to bear up with a high spirit against
ill-forcune. Like the elastic palm, it rebounds under its
burden. Would to God they may never have worse
faults ! It is of tliose miserable and detestable duels
we should complain ;* and he said this with a sigh.

"One day, as persons were exclaiming and even
using vehement invectives against a very scandalous
fault, although one of infirmity, committea by a mem-
ber of a religious community, he said nothing, except,
' human misery ! human misery !* at another time,
' how encompassed we are with infirmity !' and again,
' What can we do of ourselves but sin V and, ' We
should perhaps do worse, if God did not hold us by the
right hand, and lead us according to His will.' He
was in the habit of sayuig, that if the world were freed
from evil-speaking, it would be freed from a very large
portion of its sins, for of all sins which may be classed
under the heads of thought, word, and deed, the most
frequent and the most dangerous sometimes are those
of word : and this for many reasons. First, because
tins of thought are hurtful only to him who oommite

1,1 ( ■ (1 .

:■ ! i

•T. FBANCIf DB SALBS.

them, and are the occasion of neither soaiidal, irritatioBk
nor bad example to others, being known only to Ood
whom they ofiend ; and so a loving and penitent return
to God emioes them : but those of the tongue reach
further; the word once pronounced can be recalled onlr
oj a humble retractation: and yet our neighbour's
heart has none the less been infected and poisoned
through his ear. Secondly, sins of deed, if of any note,
are liable to public chastisement j but slander, unless it
be very atrocious and disgraceful, is not amenable to
pvmishment ; hence numbers of persons fidl into this
sin. The tmrd reason is the rareness of restitution and
reparation in this matter; those who have the conduct
of souls being too indulgent^ not to say lemissy in this
respect

** It pained him to hear any one call a person bad
on account of some single reprehensible act, because
yirtuous habits, he said, are not extinguished by one
eontraiy act; for instance, we cannot call a man a
drunkard on account of one solitary act of intemperance,
and so of the other vices. Hence, when he heard any
sne for a single sin taxed with the coiresponding vice,
he gently remonstrated against the accusation, and ob-
served tnat there was a wide difference between vice
and sin, the former signifying a habit, the latter an act ;
and that as one swallow does not make a summer, so one
solitary sinful act does not rander a person vicious, that
ih, habituated to the vice an act of which he has per-
formed. But if so, it was objected, we may not, on
the other hand, conclude that a pei-son is in a state of
giace, and possesses cliiirity, however holy he may ap-
pear in his actions. He re])Iied, that if faith, as St.
James teaches, is known by works, much more is cha-
rity, which is a far more active virtue, works being, in
relation to it, like sparks whicii reveal the existence of
fire ; and althoug-h, wl:ren we witness a sin confessedly
mortal, we may affirm tiitit the pei-son committing it
forfeited the "rracP of God, how can we tell whether Uod,
A moment after, did not touch his heart? and whetbv

•T. FRANCIS i>B lALBl.

atioA|

>God

retura

reach

donlT

bourt

isoned

^Bote,

ilesait

ible to

to ihii

on and

ondnot

inthii

on bad
because
by one
man a
lerance,
Lrd any
ag vice,
and ob-
sen vice
an act;
80 one
»U8, that
las per-
not, on
state of
nay ap-
as ot.
is cha-
teing, in
ence of
fessedl^
ittinr it
lerUod,
whetbv

te did not torn from his evil wj^ by an act of eon-
trition? We must, therefore, be uj fearful of judg-
iB||^ ill of others ; but as fp judging well, we mav act
with perfect Ireedom ; beca.<M charity believes and nopei
al! good of its neighbour, thinks no evil, and rejoicee in
truUi and goodness, but not in iniquity."

But if St. Francis was an enemy to slander and rash
judgments, so also was he to the uncharitable practice
of personal ridicule.

'' When in society," says M. de Bellqr, '* he heard
any one throwing ridicule on another, his countenance
testified his disuxe of the conversation ; he would in-
troduce another topic to create a diversion, and when
he could not succeed by this method, he would rise and
say, * This is trampling too much on the good man,
and passes all reasonable bounds. Who gives us the
riffht to amuse ourselves in this way at the expense of
outers ? Should we like to be treated thus, and have
all our foibles dissected by the razor of the tongue f
To bear with our neighbour and his imperfections is a
ffreat perfection, and it is a great impeHectinn to cut
him up in this way by ridicule.' With reference tc
Uiis practice, he said tliat it was one of the worst dis-
positions a mind could have; that God exceedingly
nates tliis vice, and punishes it in remarkable ways.
One day a young lady was amusmg herself in his hear-
ing with quizzing another's want of beauty, and was
laughing at some natural blemishes with which she had
been born; ujion which he quietly observed, that it
was God who had made us, and not we oui-selves ; and
that His works are perfect, But the lady laughing
still more at his saying that God's works wei-e perfect,
* Believe ue,' he said, * her soul is more upright, more
beauti.'jl and well-proporticnAd ; be sati^ified that I
know this for certam; and so he silenced her. On
another occasion, some one laughing in his presence at
the deformed appearance of an absent {lerson, who had
not only « hump on his back but one in fi^nt, — he
inikiadiatiXi; took bit part, alleging the same Scriptun

^'i

;i •

■it

in. „.

.' 1

n fT. FBAHOM Dl UAtmL

mj\n9f that Go(f ■ works are perfect. * Hour Mrfeei^'
rqoined the other, 'with so imperfect a shape?' The
Saint sweetly answered, 'What! do you not beliera
chat there are perfect humpbacks as well as persons
perfectly straig^nt?' Beinj^ requested to explain to
what kmd of perfection he alluded, interior or exterior,
he Implied, ' It is enough ; what I have said is true ; let
us talk of sozicthing Mtter.*

** There are no greater enemies to human society
than those obstinate and self-opinionated people who
are continually contradicting others ; they are the pest
of conversation^ the scourge of social intercourse, and
sowers of dissension. Mild, condescending, yielding,
and tractable tempers, on the other hand, who readi^
give way, are living charms to attract and win every
body. Our Saint commended much St. Louis's advice,
never to contradict anv one, unless sin or some con-
siderable damage would be the result of abstaining.
This holy king did not say this from human prudence,
of which he was the enemy, nor according to the pagan
emperor's maxim, that no one ought to leave the prince'^
presence discontented, but from a truly Christian spiri*
to shim disputes, according to the Apostle's counsel, whc
would have us carefully avoid all contention."

It was St. Francis s opinion, that few persons are
extremely taciturn from a virtuous motive. Here, as
in aU else, his sweet and gentle spirit led him to adopt
the true mean.

** One day, persons were taOdnff before him of a
eertain individual who would pass tor a great man by
dint of silence. * If so,' said our Saint, * he has dis-
covered the secret of acquiring a reputation at a cheap
rate ;' and then, after a pause, he added, ' No one re-
sembles a wise man so much as a fool when he holds
his tongue. Wisdom does not consist in not speaking,
but in speaking as and when we ought, and in holding
our peace in proper time and place.' Some persons, out
of a conscientious but unenlightened zeal, toe moment
they dior* to give themselves to the practice of devo-

» — >

• Th€
beliert
penoni
lain to
zterior,
ue; let

society
)le who
Lbe pest
rse, and
rieldingy
» readily
in every
\ adyice^
me con*
staining.
irudencCy
leimgim
ipnnce-B
an spiri*
iselyWht

•sons are
Here.ai
to adopt

of a
man by
I has dis-
a cheap
one re-
Ihe holds

ST. FRANOIS DB BAtBS.

Itl

holding
ins, out
moment
ofdfv<»

iAbb, fimoy they must shun all company and oouTsrsi^
lion, w owls avoid the duy-bii'da, and by this strange
Mud austere behavioiu' inspire others with an aversion to
dovotion, instead uf rendering it pleasing and attractive.
vhir Saint did not tipprove of this, but wished those
who practised devotion to be the lij^ht of the world by
their good example, and the salt of the earth, to impart
« caste for pietv to such as Incked it. But, it may b(^
said, if the saft returns to the ocean from whence it
was drawn, it will melt and become dissolved. True,
but also if you do not mix it with meats, they will have
Qo savour.

" To a good soul who asked him if such as desire
to live with some perfection may mix with the world,
he made this reply : *■ Perfection does not consist in not
seeing the world, out in not having a taste or relish foi
it. All that sight brings is danger, for he who beholds
11 luns some risk of loving it ; but to him who is forti-
fied by a good and firm resolution, it does no harm.
In a word, the perfection of charity is theperfection of
life ; for the Ufe of our soul is charity. Tne primitive
Christians lived in the world in body but not in heart,
and were nevertheless very perfect."

'' Our Saint, by the help of gitice, knew how to unite
in his person two admirable qualities, — gravity and
sweetness. He knew how to blend with the ray o\
majesty and honour, which grace had poured up/^rs his
brow, so much affability and sweetness, that you wcxld
have said it was another Moses who veiled his beam-
ing face when he would converse familiarly with his
brethren. If he possessed attractions which drew per-
sons to love him, he had also so much gravity and
modesty, that they could not help fearing, or at least
respectmg him. !uut this respect was so fall of love,
that I knew of many who qmte trembled when they
spoke to him ; not so much from the fear of displeasmg
him (for nothing displeased him, and he received tho
radest persons graciously), but for fear of not pleasing
him tDOQgh. Iwill tendidly own that I took so muoS

*
' n

i.-J

Mi:

13 :

ill 1 1

^'.,

! l!

•T. V1UN0IS DB tALBi.

delifi^bt in doings any thing to please him, that when ba
•▼inoed any satisfaction with me, my head was up in
the stars; and if he had not taught me to refer all
ultimately to God. without stopping short at himself
many of mv actions would have come to a stand in the
midst of t^eir course. As for his sweetness, it was
unknown only to thoM to whom he himself was not
known. In him this viitue seemed to have clothed
itself with a human form ; and you would have said he
was gentleness itself, rather than a man endowed with
that ((uality. Hence he possessed such powerliii in-
fluence over men's minds, that all gave way to him ;
and as he condescended to each individually, making
himself all thin}^ to all men, so, on the other hand, uO
acquiesced in his desire, which was no other than to
behold them all embarked in the service of God and
tho ways of salvation."

tn SAXirr*B oranows aboct pbsaohiiio akd oohtbovbbst.

AMD BIS MBTUOO IM OKALINO WITH UiaBTlCS.

Any notice of the spirit of St Francis of Sales would
be incomttlete without a few extracts regarding these

eints, which are naturally connected witli each other,
is extraordinary success us a preacher makes every
Hint on this subject extremely valuable. Here, as in
every thing else which api)ertains to him, we find the
■ame spirit of sweetness, simplicity, and sincerity. A
few anecdotes will illustrate these characteristics. We
will head them by an amusing incident related by the
candid Bishop, wlio, in his Mmiration for the mode)
before him, fell into the mistakj of labouring after tn
external copy of the Saint's manner in the piupit.

** I entertained so high an esteem of him, that aB
bii ways enchanted me. I took it into my bead to
imitate his style of preaching. Do not ima^pine, bow*
erer, that I aspireu to imitate bim in the haight of hii
thoughta, in the profundity of bia doctrine, in the poim

ST. f RANG!! Dfi tALtt.

16$

lit aD
id to,
how*

if hii rsafoning^, in the soundness of his judg-ment, io
the tenderness of liis lanprimf^e, in the perfect ord(>r and
oonnection which rei^pted in his sermons, and in that
incomparable sweetness which could remove the yery
rooks from their foundations. All that was beyond my
reach. I was like those flies which, unable to walk on
the polished surface of a mirror, betake tiiemsulves to
the frame. I amused myself, and, as vou will hear, I
deceived myself, in strivfng to adopt his exteimal ac-
tion, his g'estui'es, and pronunciation. In him all tliif
was slow and quiet ; mine bein^ naturally the reverse,
I underwent so strang'e a metamori)husis, that no one
would have known me ; it was no longer I myself. I
had s|K)ilt my own orig'innl, to make a very bad copy
of him whom I wished to imitate. Our Saint, who had
been informed of all this proceeding, said to me one
day, after making approaches to the subject for some
time, * Apropojt to sermons, I have heard a piece of
news : I am told vou have taken a funcy to mimic the
Bishop of Geneva s preachin**'.' I defended myself 'I'om
this cliarg^ by replying, 'Well, and iiave I chosen so
bad a pattern after all / Do you not think he preaches
better than I do ?' * Ah ! come,' he n^joined, * here la
• personal attack. Well, certainly, he does not preach
ill ; but the worst is, that I am told that you imitate
him BO badly, that people can make nothing of it but
A very imperfect attempt, which spoils the Bishop of
Belley, without reprasenting the Dishop of Geneva;
10 that it would be necessary to follow the example of
that bad painter, who used to write the names of the

Crsons wiiose poilraits he had taken under the facea
had daubed. 'Let him alone/ I retoited, * and yon
will see that by degrees he will rise fi'om the rank oi
wppnatice to that of a master ; and that in the end hia
Mpiea will pass for oriffiuals.' ' Joking apart,' he r»-

Ced, ' you spoil yoursdf, and pull down a good bnild*
1^, to reconstruct another against all the rulea of nn^
tnre and art; besides, at tout ag«, iuppoeinr jou htfi
fontraoted • bad creaM, fike a piece ox doth, yon wiD

*fl.hil

iT. FBlNOIf SB lALHL

wi Hud h tfuj to f^et rid of it. 0, if it were poaibk
to exchange qualities, wliat would I not c^ve for yourt 1
I do what I can to move and stir myself up to a little
rapidity; but the more I lal)our, the slower I (ret on.
I iiaTe a difficulty in finding' words; more still in pro-
nouncing them. I am heavier than the old stump of a
treo; I can move neither myself nor others; I iiei-suire,
it is true, a great deal, but mnke very little way. You
get on full sail, I by dint of oars ; you fly, I crawl or
creep along like a tortoise; you hnve more fire in your
fingers' ends than I have in my whole body, — a won-
derful rapidity, and the liveliness of a bird; nud now I
lear that you weigh your words, measure your |)i!riod9,
drag your wines ; that you droop and ting, und make
Tour nearers ao the same.' J can tell you that thii
^ose was so effectual, that it freed me from this plea-
•ant error, and sent me back to my old ways."

His love of a holy simplicity and sincerity is dit-
played in several other charitable lessons which the
good Bishop records as having received at his hands.

"One day I was to preacli at the Visitation: and
being aware that our Saint would be present, ana that
t large concourse was ex[>ected, I must own that I had
felt a little personal anxiety on the occasion, and had
prepared in good earnest. When wo had retired to his
Qouse, and were alone together, ' Well,' he said, * you
have given general satisfaction to-day; people went
away exclaiming mirahilia at your fine and eloquent
panegyric. I only met with one individual who was
not satisfied.' ' What can I have said,' I replied, ' to
f hock this person's mind ? for I have no desire to know
his name.* * But I, for my part,' he rejoined, ' have a
great desire to tell it ym. * Who is he, then, that I
may endeavour to give him satisfaction V ' If I had
not great confidence in you, I should not name him ;
but as I know you well, 1 willingly do so. Do you see
him heref I looked round, ana saw no one but him-
•df. ' It is you, then/ I said. ^ Myself,' he replied.
' CSertainly/ 1 rejoined ; ' I should Have valued youi

•t. f lUNOIt DM lALBt.

181

•f

(

ab^le tpnrolwtion more than that of the whole oongra>
fation. Thank Ood, I have fallen \:i\o the hands of
one who wounds only that he may heal ! What, then,
did you find fault with ? for I know that your indid*
genoe will not excuse any thing: in me/ * I love yon
too much/ he resumed, 'to flatter you; and if yoo
had loved our sisters after thu fashion, you would not
have amused yourself in puffink up their minds, instead
of edifVing them; in pitusing tLjr state in life, instead
of teacning them some humiliating and more salutary
dootrine. It is with the food of the mind as with tha^
of the hody. Flattery is windy; and windy food, hk»
vegetahles, is innutritions. We ought in preaching to
provide, not empty food, the memory of which periiuiea
with its utterance, but meat which will endure to life
everlasting. We must never, indeed, ascend the pulpit,
without the special object of building up some comei'
or other of tue walls of Jenisalem, by teaching the
practice of some virtue, or the avoidin^^ of some vice;
for the whole fruit of preaching consists in the eradi-
cating of sin, and the planting of justice. Lordt ex-
claimed David, Infill teach the iinjtut Thy wayty ana
the wiehed shall be converted unto Thee,* * What
sort of conversion,' I retorted, ' could I preach to souli
delivered from the hands of their enemies, the devU,
the flesh, and the world, and serving God in holiness r
* You ought to have taught them," he said, ' to taJce
heed, since they stand, not to fall ; to work out their
salvation, according to the counsel of the Holy Spirit^
Kith fear and trembling ; and not to be without fear,
even with respect to forgiven sin. You described them
to us as so many saints; it costs you nothing to o»>
nonise the living. You must not place pillows under
elbows in this way, nor give milk to those who need
bitter herbs and wormwoml.* ' My object,* I said, 'waa
to moanrm and fortify them in their holy undertak-
iiifr*' ' We must enoouragey* he repUed, ' without

• Fm]mL1&

yi-M !

f.'

;»■■■

pi
It

ii.J

r,"

:!.;i

i 1' ;

180

■T. PRANOtS i>B SALSi.

nioff the risk of ezcitin? presumption and TSiii^. 1%
li lijWRys safer to liiimLle our keai'en, than to exalt
them to higfh and admirable things above their roach.
I fuel perauaded that another time you will be cautious
in this re8])ect/

** The next day he made me preach at a convent of
the nuns of St. (Jlare. He was present, and the con-

Sragation was not less numerous than on tlie preceding
ay. I took care to avoid tlie pittail he had pointed
out to me: my discourse was very simple, both in
words and ideas, aiming' at notbing except edifieution.
I proceeded with much method, and pressed home my
•uoject Ou>- Saint, on our return, came to see me in
my apartment, «hich, in fact, was his own; for when
I was on a visit to him, be always gsive me up his
room. After tftnderly emhacing me, 'Truly,' he said,
* I loved yot deai-ly yesterday, but much more to-daj.
You are, indeed, quite after my own heart*, and it I
am not much misttiken, you ai-e also according to God's
heart, who, I believe, has lieen pleased with your sacri-
fice. I could nut have beiif'Ved you would have been
80 yielding and condescending. It is a tine saying,
that the obedient inan xhall irpeak of victory.* You
have conquered yourself to-day. Do you know that
most of your heai-ers said, "To-day "is very unlike
yesterday," and they were not as much pleased tbis
time as the last ; but the individual who was not satis-
fied yesterday is wonderfully i>leased to-dav. I grant
you hereu]»on a plenary indulgence for all your past
faults. You have fulhlled all my wishes to-day; and
if you persevere, you will do much service fur the Lord
of the vineyard. Preaching must not seek its strength
in the words and the notions of human wisdom, but u:
the demonstration of the Spirit and of power. If you
faithiiilly adhere to this method, God will give to yoni
labours a full and honourable increase ; you will beooma
prodant in the words of mystical wisdom, and will pot*

♦ Prov. uO. n

ST. FRANCIS DB 1ALB8.

187

tb« wienee of the saints, the science that makes
saints. What, after all, do we desire to know, save
Jesus, and jesus cniciHed !'

** When he heard people talk of preachers who did
wonders, he would ask, *Iluw many has their preaching
converted ? for the conversion of souls is a more mira-
cidous work than the resuii-ection of the dead, since it
is a passag'e from the death of sin to the life of grace.'
If it was replied, that the wonders alludod to were elo-
quence, science, memory, striking manner, and other
cuaracteristics of a great speaker, — ^Thnse qualities,' ha
would say, * are those of a worldly onitor, and can be
acquired by human diligence ; biit they ap{M>r^ain not
to those on whom the Holy Spirit, which bv been
conferred upon them, has {wuitid tiiH science of the lan-
guage of heaven, which is the science of salvatioi* and
of the saints.'

'*When any one said a preacher was succeedins
rery well, he would ask in what virtues he excelled,
whether in humility, in mortiHoition, in sweetness, in
courage, in devotion, and such like. On being told that
it was good preaching which was meant, 'That,' he
would rejoin, * is saying, not doing. The one is much
easier than the other. How many there are who say,
and do not — who pull down by their bad exiimp^
what they have built up with their tongue! Is not
that man a very monster, whose tongue is longer than
his arm?' Some one observed of a preacher, * He has
done wonders to-day.' He replied, ' He who has done
wonders is the man who is found without s{K>t — who
has not followed after gold, nor placed his hofM in
worldly treasure.' To another, who said of a certam

Sreaeher that he had even soared above himself, * What
iterior self-sacrifice has he achieved V was his reply ;
' what injury has he endured ? It is upon such-liks
oocasions that we surmount ourselves. Would you
know whence I infer the excellence and merit of a
inrcMher? It is when those who come away strike
Uiiir kratiti, saying, / will do well; not, Jiow w§tt

Ihil

■u . • i

. i I

F'i . !

Ifii

168 IT. FRAMOIS OB AALBft.

he has aotu! When the sermon is over, do not amuM
Tourself with attending to those rain popular plaudits,
How well he has acquitted himself! What an eloquent
tongue ! What profound knowledge ! What an admirable
memory! What a fascinatiDg preacher! vVhat a pleasure
it is to listen to such a man ! I never had such a treat
in all my life ! All this is empty babble, proceeding
from minds that lack judgment. Christian preachers,
St. Jerome tells us, ou^ht not to have recoui'se to the
arts of the rhetorician, Ijut should use the simple lan-
guage of fishermen ; that is, of the Apostles. If St
Paul condemns hearers with itching ears, how much
more preachers who scmtch them b)r their choice words,
rounded periods, and studied compositions! But i^
upon cominff out from the sermon, you should meet
with any who, hke the centunon, say. Truly this man
is of God ; he preaclies Jesus Christ cmcifiea, not him-
•elf ; he teaches us to repent of our sins ; it will not be
his fault if we do not turn from oiu> evil ways ; this
sermon will rise against us at the day of judgment, if
we do not profit oy it : or if they say, 0, how neces-
sary is penance for salvation I how lovely is virtue !
how sweet is the burden of the cross ! how Ught the
yoke of God's law! how hideous and detestable a thing
18 sin I rather let us die than sin : or if, without using
so many words, the hearers testify to the fiiiit of the
preaching by amendment of life, you may then judge
of the gtiodness and efficiency of the preacher, not tc
his glory, but to the glory of Him that sent him, — ^to
the glory of God, who speaks by his mouth, and fiUt
him with His Spirit.'

"In proof of this, he told me the following anec-
dote : 'A very celebrated preacher came to Annecy; I
begged him to prf>ach ; he consented ; and setting off
in a high style, he propounded his sublime notions in
SQoh pompous language, and with such a display of
eloquence, that our good mountaineers were quite as-
tonished. As they came out, nothing was to be heard
hnt eijirissions of delight and admiration. Never

■T. rRANOIS DB SALIS.

180

M ani^b {noense of praise offered to mortal man : thej
▼ied with each other m their applause, ana in crying him
up to the skies. Knowing well how much this discourse
waa above the comprehension of its admirers, I took
■ome of them aside, and questioned them, to discoyer
how muf h they had retained of it, and what particular
profit they had derived from it. Not one of them could
tell me a word. One more mgenuous than the rest re>
plied : *< If I had understood it, and could retail it to you^
that would show that he had said nothing uncommon.
It is our ignorance which excites our aiuniration ; foi
he talked of such high and lofty things, that they wera
quite beyond our reach; and this makes vm bave a
rreater esteem for the mysteries of our religioi.'* ' Our
Saint praised his candour, and acknowledged that he
had derived some sort of profit from the sermon. Spring
flowers are not enough, if they are not followed by au-
tumn fruit. The preacher wuo has only the leaves ai
language and fine thoughts, is in peril of being classed
among those unfruitful trees who are threateuMl in the
Goepu with the axe and the fire. J have chosen you,
■aid our Lord to His Apostles, that you should go and
Irimafyrthjruitf and ymir fruit Mould remain,***

ALde Belley mentions,' that m the early days of
his episcopate, Demg yet, as he says. '' very green**
(having by the speoal dispensation of the Pope been
oonsecrated under the age prescribed by the canons),
and having his mind yet freshly stored with his school
knowledge and with elegant litertture, for which he
had a particular turn, he brought forth a redundancy
of such matter fi'om the treasures of his memory. It
was upon the occasion of his being in<ated, in 1610,
to preach the Lent before the Senate of Savoy, in
Ghambery, the capital city of that province, that it
was reported to our Saint, who was at his episcopal
feeidence at Annecy, only seven leagues distant, tnal
(to eontinuf in the Bishop's own wonis) his ''diaoooN

* John XT. It.

190

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were all flowers and perfume, which attracted erowdi
of hearers, like bees which cluster round sugar and ho-
ney. He, however, who judged aftei quite a different
fbshion, and who was well skilled in this art, would
have desired to see me draw mora upon the divine Scrip
tures than on human letu^rs ; he would have wished for
more of the soUd spirit of piety than display of spiritual
expressions eloquent with numan wisdom. Whereupon
he wrote me a beautiful letter, in which he apprised
me, that the odour which my sweet spices exhaled had
reached even to him, so that he compared himself to
Alexander, who, sailings towards the Foi'tunate Islands,
was made awara of iueir neighbourhood by the fra*
ffrance which the wind, sweeping over the smooth sur^
race of the sea, wafled to his vessels. After havins
thus concealed the point of his lancet in this oiled and
perfumed cotton, he stuck it in by telling me that, after
■0 many messengers, who every day brought him word
that our bed was all strewed with verdura, our fiimi*
tura of cedar and Cyprus, — that our blossoming vines
wero spreading their sweetness on all sides, — that our

don was full of nothing but flowers, — that it was
^ bing sprinp'time all around us, — he was expecting
others to give him news of summer and autumn, of the
harvest and the vintage. ' I am lictening,' he said, ' to
hear anJlore»/rvctiupartvriant ,*'* telling me that, afler
all, he fwlvifiied me to strip my vine of its superfluous
tendiila of belles-lettre/h—tempus putationis venit ;f to
prune and retrench from it so many foreign oniaments ;
and that, although it was allowable to use the vases of
the Egyptians for the service of the tabernacle, C ought
to be with sober moderation ; that Hachel was indeed
fairer than Lid, but that Lia was mora fniitliil ; that
the Oosiiel ought to Ije ex})oun(ied in conformity with its
own stvie and simplicity; that red ami white fmint ill be*
came the face of theology ; and that we ougiit to beware
of adulterating the Word of God much more than the

* Whether the flowers Are bringing forth fruits.
t ** Th« tiuM 9f pruning U oome." C»n(iclM it. \%

iT. nuiroit ob malsm, Itl

tfUTOit coin ; to whiob he added many other similar in*
■tructions, which had the effect of making me much
more resenred, much less liberal of those viands which
are rather empty than solid, and much more careful to
hibour for that meat which perishes not, and whion the
Qospel so 8ti*ongly recommends to us.

" It was his opinion, that it was not sufficient that
the preacher should have a general intention of in-
structing in the ways of God, out that he should aun
at some special object ; for instance, the knowledge ol
some mystery, the exposition of some article of faith,
the destruction of some vice, or the estabUshment of
some virtue. ' You would hardly believe,* he said,
'how important is this advice, and now many laboiured
and studied sermons are profitless for want of point.
If you will follow this maxim, your sermons will pro-
duce much fruit; if vou neglect it, you may reap ad
mu-ation for yourself, but others will derive no be-
nefit."

'' He approved extremely of shortness in sermonSi
and said that lengthiness was the most general defect
of the preachers of his day. ' Do you call that a de-
fect,' said I, * and thus ^ve to plenty the name ol
scarcity?' ' When the vme,' he replied, ' produces a
rreat deal of wood, then it is that it bears the least
Sruit A multitude of wonls never produces a great
effect. Obsei've all the Iiomilies ana sermons of the
ancient fathers — how short they are ; but how much
more eilicacious they were than ours * The good St.
Francis, in his rule, enjoins upon the preachera of his
Order to be brief, and ndihices this reason —that God
had made a short word vpon the earth* Believe
me,' he said, * I sjieak from experience, and from very
bug ex))erience ; the more you say, the less will be
rememliered; the more you sny, the less will your
hearers profit. By dint of overfoading their memory,
foil malu) it breuk down ; as lauips are put out by tot

•Bob. Is. ML

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much oil, and plants an stifled by too mnoli watenag.
When a sermon is too long, the end makes ns forget
the middle, and the vaLcLh the beginning. Preachers
of very moderate powers are endurable, provided they
a*e brief; while such as are excellent become burden-
lome when the^ are too long. A preacher cannot have
a more offensive fault than lengthiness. You musi
saj little, and that good, and inculcate it diligently,
not making the least account of those fastidious minds
who are displeased when a preacher repeats a thing,
and goes ovei* the same gi-ound again. What ! is it not
necessary in making a work of iron to heat it over and
over ap^ain ; and in pa nting to touch and retouch re-
peatedly? How much more, then, is it needful, in
order to imprint eternal titiths in hearts confirmed in
evil, and on hardened intellects V "

Not only did St. Francis approve of short sermons,
but he had a predilection for a limited audience, as
M. de Belley thus relates :

** ' Rejoice,' said our Saint, ' when in ascending the
pulpit you see few pople, and that you have but a
tliinly-scattcred audience/ * But,' said I, * it costs no
more ti-ouble to teach many tiian few.' ^ It is from a
thirt}- veai-s* experience in this matter,* he replied, * that
I speak; and i Lave always seen greater results for
God's service from sermons 1 hnve preached before
small than before large congregations. At the time 1
was provost, I was sent by tlie bishop, my predecessor^
to preach. One Sunday, when tlie weather was very
bad, there were only seven persons in the church, su
that some one observed to me, that it was not worth
while to give any sermon. I repUed, that neither did
a large audience encom'a^e, nor a small one dishearten
oie ; that provided one sm»-le individual was edified, it
was enough. I accordingly mouutnd the pulpit, and
I remember my sermon was on prayer to the saints. I
treated the subject very simply ; I said nothing either
pathetic or vehement ; however, one of the congre^
tion began to weep bitterly, and even to lob and ugb

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198

quite audibly. I thought he was ill, so T begpgped him
not to put any constraint upon himself; that I was about
to finish, and would come and help him if he needed
any thing-. He replied that he was quite well in ^KKiy,
and begged me to go on, saying that I was dressinig;
the wound which required it. When the sermon, whicb
was short, was over, he came and threw himself at my
feet, exclaiminsf, ' M. le Provost, I owe my hfe to you;
you have savea my soul to-day. Blessed be the hour
when I came here and heard you ! it has been worth an
eteniity to ..me.* He then told me, that havirg Wn
conferring with some (Protestant) ministers concermng
prayer to the saints, which they represented as horrible
idofatry, he had fixed the following Thursday for hia
abjuration of the Catholic religion ; but that he had
been so well instructed by the sermon he had just heard,
and his doubts had been so completely removed, that
he detested the promise he had made, and vowed obe>
dience anew to the Roman Church. I cannot tell yon
what an impression this example, occurring amongst
so small a number of people, produced through ua
whole neighbourhood, and how docile and ready to
receive the Word of God it rendered the hearts of
others.*

** A very learned preacher, who took great paina
with his sermons, but who was not much followed,
often employed the best part of his discourse in com*
plainmg of the negligence of those who did not corns
to hear the Word of God, and even went so far ai
to threaten to throw all up and forsake his pulpit The
Saint, who had been present, said to one of his con<
fidential friends, as they came out of church, ' Whom
is this good person angry with ? He has scolded U0
for a fault we have not committed, for we were pre-
sent. Would be have had us cut ourselves up mto
bits to fill the empty places ? It is the absent he waa
displeased with, ana tney will not be the more punctual
in consequence, for they did not hear him. If he wished
to addriM t}iem» he ought to have fpone about the atreed

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and public places, to compel those who frequented then
to come to Lis banquet. As it is, he inveighed at thv
innocent, and let the gr^iilty alone.'

" Disputes on reli>^ious mutters were Tery disagree-
able to Itim, particularly at table and after dinner;
these were not, he said, bottle topics. I replied, one
day^ taking up his expression, that J a bottle of thii
kind was occasionally broken, it was to g^ve forth the
lamp of truth, which is all fire and flame. * Yes, in-
fieea,' he rejoined, ' fire and flames of ang-er and alter-
cation, wiiich yield only smoke and blackness, and verj
'ittle lij^ht.' He also particularly disapproved of contro-
versial subjects being* introduced into sermons, preaching
bemg ordained rather to edify than to ])ull down ; and
'bi* instruction in morals, rather than for settling those
iisputes concerning the faith which arise among such
is are external to the Church. But it will be urged,
oerhaps, that it is for the purpose of confirming Cathodes
sa their belief that the arguments of their advenarief
are ovei>thrown in their presence. A plausible reason,
but of which experience proves the futihty; because^
not to speak of tlie thorny difficulties with which thess
distressing contestations are beset, the human mind,
owing to its natural corruption, has so great a pro-
pensity to evil, that it will fix its attention on the
objection rather th<in on its solution, and choose the
f^erpent in place of the bread. His method, both in
preaching and in private conferences with Protestants,
was to expound with that clearness and facility for
which he was so remarkable the simple and naked
truths of faith ; for truth, he said, in its native tim-
olicity, had charms and attractions capable of winninff
the most rebellious souls. This plan he found to sncoeed
so admirably, that, provided he could get a Protestant
to give him a calm and qniet hearing, not only did he
make his weapons fall from his hands oy thus disposing
of his objections before he had made them, but if he
^'A not gun him over at once, he made so aeep an im-
mreinon that the person was sure to return voy torn

•T. nuvroii in fiii

105

in-

to leeli a healing^ remmly from .ho hand which had is*
flicted 80 happy a wound."

The example of this preat Saint is the more apposite,
that it will be rememliered he was called to rule a flock
surrounded and interniing'led with hei-etics. His advice,
therefore, on this head may be received absolutely, ana
does not require modiHcation from any material differ-
ence in the circumstances in which we ourselves are
placed. Now this fnent Saint considered that this me-
thod had four notable advantages : 1, it hides the point
of the lancet in cotton ; 2, it avoids the weariness and
importunity which g^enemlly accomjtany the thorny path
of conti-oversy ; 3, it takes its henrers hap|>ily by sur-

Srise, and makes them receive the trutii, not only without
ifficulty, but with pleasura ; 4, simple as it is, it pos-
sesses in its simplicity a wonderful energy, changing
offensive into defensive wea]>ons, and di-awin)^ proofs for
the defence of truth fram the very objections of those
who are in error.

M. de Belley goes on to exemplify the manner in
which the Saint practised this method :

'' The answers which Catholics are in the habit of
{fiTing to the objections which Protestants make from
passages of Scripture, being conformable to the truths
which are taught by the Church, we have only to bring
foiwajtl the solution first, which being explained and
reasoned out, without making it figure as an answer to
an objection, the passage upon which the difficulty is
grounded comes by this means to furnish a proof of the
truth laid down. Thus it was that the Saint himself
explained it to me. Here is an example which wiU
make the matter clear :

" Protestants commonly quote this passage of Scrip-
Pan against the Real Presence : * It is the spirit which
^veth life: the Jleeh profiteth nothing^ to which we
make two replies, — tHe one from St Chrysostom, *h%
other from St Angustioe : first, that the flesh without
the spirit^thU is, without the Divinity — ^would profit
Mthiog ; aeoondlj, tW the camtl iiiil groii waj a

UNIVERSITY OF WINDSOR LIBRARY

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•T. tftANOIf Dl tALll.

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which cfte Gaphtrnaites understood Him profited bo*
thing. In pursuance of the object we have in view, wt
have only to point out the weakness of the flesh by it-
self, without being united to the Divinity and anointed
by it, and to show that it is the Divinity which imparts
to the humanity the power it possesses of communi-.
eating to the faithful who are its members that grace
which itself has received as the head ; and thus it is this
8i)u*it of the Divinity and tliis Sacred Flesh which vivi-
fies souls who become pnrtakera thereof in communion.
According to the second interpretation, we have only to
represent how gross and unworthy of the majesty o'
clus mystery was the notion of the Caphamaites, ana
how fsff removed from it is the Cathohc faith on this
point, and hence conclude how true are these words of
che Saviour, that the flesh, taken m these two senses,
would profit nothing ; by this means availing ourselves,
in conhrmatiou of tlie orthodox doctrine, otthat which
is employed to oppose it. He told me that he had for
a long time employed this method, and that it ttirew
BO complete a disguise over controversy, that, althouG[h
one might preach nothing else, hearers would scarcely
be aware or the fact unless it were pointed out to them.
Be preached an Advent and Lent at Grenoble, where
/here are numbers of Protestants, who were more dili-
gent in their atter dance on his preaching than on that
of their own ministers, because, tiiey said, he was free
ii-om the spirit of contention ; and yet he always em-
ployed the first part of his discourse in setting forth
the traths of Catholic doctrine, but in the manner I have
described, the latter part being devoted to moral and de-
votional application : the Protestants meanwhile, who
never perceived the art of his method, wondering much
at seeing him establish the faith of the Roman Church
by the very same Scripture texts by which they sup-
ported their priu' dpal objections.

''Our Saint one day, while at Paiis, preached a
sermon on the last judgment, to which God gave M
Buch power and efficacy, that certain Protestant! wba

IT. FmiNOIt Dl BALM. 1^

had oome to hear him from euriositj were so deeplj
moTed, that they conceived a desire to confer with him
on some points of faith ; the result being their complete
tatisfaotion, and the conversion of an entire family of
much note, who were received into the bosom ot th»
Catholic Church.

*' Here is the Saint's own account of the fiust : ' Being
at Paris, and preaching in the queen's chapel upon the
subject of the day of judgment (it was not a controver-
sial sermon), it happened that Madame de Perdreauville
was present, having come from curiosity. She was
caught in the snare, and in consequence of that sermon
came to the resolution of seeking instruction; three weeks
afterwards she brought her whole family to me to con-
fession, and stood godmother to them all at confirmation.
See how this sermon, which was not aimed at heresy,
was endued with such power against it; for God at
that time voiichsafed me that grace to my words ii
bvour of these souls.

** * I have always said ever since that who everpreaohes
with love, preaches sufficiently against heresy, although
he may not utter a single word of controversy against
't. For these thirty-three years that Ood has called me
to the sacred office of breaking the bread of His Word
to the people, I have certainly remarked that practical
sermons, where the subject is treated ?nth devotion and
with zeal, are so many burning coals thrown in the faces
of the Protestants who hear them ; that they are always
pleased and edified by them, and are thereoy rendered
more docile and reasonable when we come to confer
with them on disputed points. This is not my opinion
alone, but that of the most celebrated preachers whom
I have known ; and every one agrees that the pulpit
ought not to be made the oattle-ground of controversy,
and that we 'demolish more than we build up, if we
attempt any thmg beyond a passinp^ allusion to it.' **

If a Samt's opinion on this pomt is worthy of no-
tice, how much more of one who gathered into tlw
Ohurofa's bosom so many of her lost sneep !

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108 ST. FBAHOIt DB lALM.

<' Our SainV' sayi M. de Bellej, " hud received
from leaven a special grace for oon?ertingp linnera witlh*
in the CImrah, and for bringing back those without to
the bosom of that Mother, separated from whom we
cannot have Ood for our Father. As resmcts theee,
not to speak of the restoration of the Chaulais to tlM
true Ciiurch, in which he codperated in the conversion
of from forty to fifty tiiousand souls, he was besides per-
sonally instrumental in reclaiming some fifteen or sii-
teen tuousand pei'sons from Protestantism. Thif special
gift lor converting was the occasion of an obeervatioD
which the great uai-dinal du Perron, of Uteraiy cele-
brity, made one day, — that if it was a question merely
of eonfbiifuiing heretics, he thought he possessed th«
secret; but to convert them, they must be sent to Um
Bishop of Geneva, who had a commission from heaven
for that work. The Cardinal de Derulle was of th«
same opinion, and openly declared that the hand of
God was with the blessed Francis."

We are not to sup|)ose, however, that he ihrank
from controversy where the honDvu* or religion and tha
good of souls required that t)ie truth should be pub-
licly vindicated. Here is an instance recorded by H. da
Belley, which exemplifies his holy boldness, and at tha
Mme time manifests its source, — a perfect oonfidenoa
in God, whose glory he sought alonCi and a spirit ol
bumble self-renunciation ;

** The Saint, when preaching Lent and Advent tt
Grtiioble, di-ew such crowded congregations, not oidy
of Catholics, but of Prjtestants belonging to the Gene-
van sect, that the seimnns of their own ministers wt^vt*
left unattended. One of these men, a turbulent f^ir^
seeing his pulpit deserted, after indulging in mam lo-
vecftves and injurious declamations against the «unt»
defied hiui to a public conference. The challenge wai
accej>ted. A perran of merit, who did not think it ad*
▼itaole th^". * '.e Saint su ) ilii aipoee himself to this coii>.
tent, represesvid . > him ^he insolent temper of thte
■Buatav^koLfttia helliaw mouth, tad the inoit vitvp^

•T. F«A1fCTt DB •▲!■•.

rative and abusiTe of tonfpiM. ' Good/ said the Sunt ;
' this 18 just what we wan ' And as his friend weut on
to represent to him that he would j^ceive the most on-
worthy treatment from this man, who would show hioi
no more consideration than if he wus the lowest of the
people, ' Better still/ replied the holy Bishop; Hhis it
what I seek. What gjory shall accrue to Ood from
my confusion !' ' BuV rejoined the other, ' wt>uld you
expose the rank you bold to ignominy ?' * Our Lord/
answered the Saint, * suffered rar greater insults. Wat
He not satiated with opprobrium V * 0/ replied hii
friend, ' you are aiming too hiff h.' ' What shall I say V
continued the Saint ' I hope uiat God will gi^e me the
grace to endure more insults than this man can offer me ;
and if we are deeply humbled, God will be ^^loriously
exalted. You will see heaps of conversions after that,— >
« thousand fallm^ on the left hand and ten thousand
«in the right. It is God's way to draw His own honour
from our humiliation. Did not the Apostles cone fortk
joyfully from those assemblies where they had Midured
affronts for the name of Jesus? Let us take courage^
and God will help us. Such as hope in H^m want for
nothing, and are never confounded.'

** The enemy, however, who feared that this night
prove a losing game, sugp^ested so many prudential
considerations to the minister's adherents^ who mis-
trusted his powers, that they got the king'f lieutenant,
who at that time still belonged to their tSst, to prevent
the oonferenoe from taking place.'*

Mt^Vib

TBB IAIIIT'b LOVB OV HUMILRT AlID SIMPUCRT.

** St Gregory has well said, that when we praise a
wise nan m his presence, we afflict his ears and pain bis
heart. Such was our Saint He who so lovingly em-
braced those who spoke abusive words against nim was
mcnre disposed himself to give abiuive words to those
irho offiMwi bin the ilighfieit praiaa. On^dayipmo^

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8T. FRAN0I8 DB SALIS.

iziff before him at Anneoy, and calling to mind a sayii a
ofthe Bishop of Saluces, Tu sal es, eqo veto neaue «M
neque luxy* I was betrayed into maidnff a little aUu-
sion to his name, observing that he was toe salt («u.2e«)
which seasoned the whole mass of the people. He was
80 extremely disedified by this praise, tuat when we
had returned home he reproved me in a tone and with
a manner that would have been severe, had he been
capable of severity. ' You were e^oing on so steadily/
he said, * and running so \<rell ; what possessed you to
be guilty of that sally ? Do vou know you spoilt it all,
and that one word was sufficient to make you lose the
credit of your whole sermon? Is it not to mix with
alloy the pure gold of the word of God to introduce
the word of men ? What is the praise of the living but
the word of men ? Is it not written, Praise not an^
man before death ?f I am a fine salt indeed, — an
insipid and savourless salt, fit only to be oast into the
streets and trodden under foot. I grieve for so much
ffood seed choked with a handfiil ofcockle. Certainly
if you said that to put me to shame, you have found out
the true way.'

" It was impossible that he could be ignorant of tht
nigh esteem woich not only his flock but the whole
world entertained of his piety. It was to him the occa*
sion of often humbling himself before God^ and of fre-
quently blushing before men, when he either saw or
heard that he was accounted a holy man, and a faith-
ful servant of God. 'Do you see,' he said; 'these
good people, with all their praises and high esteem, will
be the cfluse of my gathering very bitter miit from their
friendship. They will make me'languish in purgatory
for lack of prayers offered to God for my poor soul after
mv death, fancying that it has gone straight to heaven
TtuB is all the good I shall get of this reputation.'

" It was not his habit to use expressions of hunuli^
in speaking of himself; he avoided such lang<*Age, u

* Tbou art salt; I, indeed, «m neither ult nor V^

taooiM.zLia

•T. FRARCIf DS SALBfl.

901

«ie of the gulh in which that virtue is apt to suffef
•hipwreck. He so strictly adhered to this practice, that
notning hut stringent necessity ever led him to say good
or evil of himself; even in the most indifferent matters.
He sometimes said that it was as difficult a feat to speak
of one's self as to walk along a tight-rope; and that ft
strong balance as well as wonderful circumspection wai
requisite to avoid a fall. He did not like to near people
talking verv humbly of themselves, unless their words
proceeded from a thoroughly sincere inward feeling. He
said that such words were the (|uintessence; the cream,
the elixir, of the most subtle pride. The truly humble
man did not desire to appear humble, but to be humbla
Humility is so fragile that she fears her own shadow,
and cannot hear her own name mentioned without run*
ning the risk of perishing. He who blames himself il
indirectly aiming at praise, and is like the rower who
turns his back on the quarter which all his strength if
emploved to reach. He would be very sorry if we were
to l)eireve all the evil he says of himself; and it is his
pride which makes him desire to be reckoned humble.
He would often take those who used humble expres-
sions in his hearing at their word, and even add to toem,
in order to inflict a salutary mortification upon the
speaker, and give bim a hint not to expose himself to
toe like again; being well persuaded that the great
majority of those who say these things would be very
sonr to be believed such as they describe themselves.

" He distinguished two kinds of humility,— external
and internal. If the former is not produced, or at least
accompanied, by the latter, it is very dangerous, fo/ it
is nothing more than a bark, an outside coating, a de-
ceitful and hypocritical appearance; whereas, if it springs
irom inward humility, it is very good, and serves to edify
our neighbour. He also suboivided inward humility
into that of the understanding, and that of the will. The
first is common enough ; for who is there who knows
not that he is nothing? Hence so much fine talk of
iho nothingneM of seS ftnd of oreatimi. Tbo laooiid

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IT. FRAHOIS 91 ftALIt.

IS very rare, becaui^e few penions love humiliation. Thu
latter sort lias ditrerent degrees ; the fiist is to love it,
the second to desira it, the third to practise it, whether
by seeking occasions for humbling ourselves, or by re-
ceiving wulingly those which happen to us. Our Saint
set a much higher value on the last, because there if
much more alj^ection in suffering, loving, embracing,
ind receiving with joy, the humiliations which come to
as unsought, than those which are of our own choosing,
for in things of our own choice we are much more ex-
posed to the assaults of self-love, unless our intention it
very single and pure; and also, because where there
IS less of our own, there is more of the will of God.
' The crosses we carve for ourselves,' he said, ' are al*
ways moi'e delicate than the othera ;' and he set more
value on an ounce of suffeiing than on several pounds
of action, good as it might be, which proceeded from
our own will. He desired that humihty, whether of
the understanding or of the will, should be animated by
charity ; for otheiTvise, he said, we were but practising
pagan virtue. He also desired that it should be accom-
panied by obedience, quoting that saying of St. Paul,
that our Lord had humbled Himself ^ becoming obedi'
ent.* * See,* he observed, * the tme measure of humi-
lity, obedience. If you obey promptly, frankly, with-
out murmuring, joyfully, without hesitation, and with
out reply, you are truly humble ; and without humility
it is difficult to be truly obedient ; for obedience im-
plies submission, and the truly humble looks upon him-
self as inferior and subject to every creature for the
love of Jesus Christ.' He recommended us to steep
til our actions in the spirit of humility, and to hide our
ffood works as much as nossible from the eyes of men,
desiring that they shoula be seen by God alotoe. Ne-
vertheless, he would not have us put such a constraint
vpon ourselves as to do no good action m the sight of
men. He loved a noble, generous, and courageoui
LflUBOJlit/i not fuch as is shrinking and cowardly. He

•Philip. U»ft

'■► --•*,

•T. VBAHOIf Dl BJLUn,

rould not haye us say any thing for so empty an objeet
as praise ; but neitlier would he nave us abstam from do •
ing good for fear of obtaining esteem and admiration."

The following anecdote will illustrate his spirit of
humility, and his aversion to any thing that could bear
file semblance of ostentation in piety ; and at the same
xme will serve to show in how much higher esteem he
field the virtue of charitable condescension than the
practice of corjioral mortification :

** A prelate/' relates M. do Belley, ''coming to Tisit
Diir Saint, he received him, as was his wont, very gra-
ciously, and detained him as his guest a few days. One
Fiiday evenmg he sought him in his apartment, to ask
hnu to come down to supper, which was ready. ' Sup-
per I' exclaimed the prelate ; * this is no time tor supper:
surely the least one can do is to fast once a week.'
The oaint did not press the matter, but, retiring, gate
orders for his guest's collation to oe served him in hif
own room, while he himself went down to the com-
mon itMm to sup with the prelate's chaplains and the
other persons of his household. The chaplains told him
that tlie prelate was so exact and strict m his religious
exercises, whether of prayer, fasting, or such-Hke, that^
no matter what company he had with him, he would
omit nothing ; not but that he would sit at table witk
them on the days when he was in the habit of fast-
ing, but he would eat notliing beyond fasting-fare.
One day, when we were conversing together about li-
berty of spirit, he related this incident to me, and told
me that condescension was the daughter of charity,
even as fasting is the sister of obedience; that if obedi-
ence was better than sacrifice, we ought to make no
scruple of preferring condescension and hospitahty to
Ousting. * Do you see,' he added, * we must not be so
strongly attached even to the most pious exercises ai
to be unwilhng upon occasions to lay them aside; otheN
wise, under the pretext of firmness of mind and fidelity,
a refined s|)6cies of self-love will introduce itself, which
vili lead ui to substitute the means for the end; for io-

Iff pr^ja^^BRh^^^

i I

ii'i

i^;-

i t

'. V

!'l Ml

?04

•T. FRANOIf DB lALBt.

etead of making Qod our object, we fix our afPectioM ob ,
the means which lead to God. ' And as far as concems
the fact of which we are speaking, a Friday's fast thu*
interru])ted would have served to conceal something
hotter J for there is no less merit in hiding such virtue!
than in the virtues themselves. God is a hidden God,
who loves to be served, sought, and adored in secret,
as we learn irom the Gospel. You know what hap-
pened to that imprudent kmg of Israel for having din-
played his treasures to the ambassadors of a barbarian
monarch, who came with a powerful army and carried
them all away. Crede mihif oene out latuity bene vixit,*
Any one who had seen him eat nis supper on Friday
would never have guessed that it was nis custom to
observe that day as a fast; while he himself could very
well have put it off to the next day, or the following
week, or even omitted the fast altogether, to practise in
its place the virtue of condescension. I maxe an ex-
ception in the case of the existence of a vow, for then
we must be faithful unto death, and not trouble our
^eads what men will say, provided God be served.' "

To the love of humility St. Francis joined an equal
esteem of the virtue of simplicity. ** * 1 know not, be
said, * what this poor virtue of prudence has done to
displease me, but I have to make an effort to love it,
and if I do love it, it is of pure necessity, seeing that it
is the salt and torch of lite. But the beauty of sim-
plicity charms me, and I would at any time give a hun-
dred serpents for one dove.' He laboured not onljr to
banish fixim religious houses the pest of singularity,
but also to lead those persons who make a profession
of devotion in the world to avoid it ; saying that this
defect rendered their piety not only offensive but ridi-
culous. He wished people to conform externally, ai
much as possible, to tiie mode of life of those who fol-
lowed the same profession, without affecting to make
themselves remarkable by any sin^larity : proposing
Ui« axample of our Srviour, who m the days of H^
* B«1mv« ma he who hidM w«ll Utm wtlL

•T. FKAirOIt DM tALlt. 90ft

tn )rtAl life was pleased to make Himself in all tLing»
like to His bretliren, sin only excepted. The Saint wap
most careful to practise this lesson in bis own person ;
and during fourteen years that I was under his guid-
ance, and studiously observed his behaviour, and even
his most triflirg gestures as well as his words, I never
perceived any thing in him the least approaching to
singularity. He has often told me that our outward
demeanour ought to resemble water, which, the better
it is, the clearer, the purer from admixture, and the
more devoid of taste it is. Nevertheless, although there
was nothing of singularity in him, he appeared to me so
singular in this very thin^ of having no sintnilarity in
him, that every thing in him was in my eyes singular.
I have always remembered what an eminent and pious
individual said to me one day at Paris, that nothing
i*eminded him so strongly of the conversation of our
Lord among men as the presence of the anpf^ic coun-
tenance of this blessed prelate, of whom it might be
said that he was not only clothed but altogether filled
with Jesus Christ."

The following little incident may be taken as an ex
ample of his great love of this virtue. ** Our Saint, after
prpaching Advent and Lenc at Grenoble, conceived a
desire to visit the Grande Chartreuse, distant only three
leagues. Dom Bnmo d* Affringues, a native of St. Omer
in Flanders, a person of profound learning and hu-
mility, and of still more profound simplicity, was at that
time prior and general of the whole order. He received
our Saint with a welcome becoming his piety, candour,
and sincerity, of which you are goin^ to near an in-
stance which our Saint praised up to nie skies. After
having conducted him to one of the rooms allo^^ted to
guests, and suitable to his rank, and after conversing
with hixn on heavenly matters, he took his leave to go
and prepare himself for matins. The Saint approved
his punctuality highly ; the good prior moreover adding
in excuse that it was the feast of a Saint much honoured
in hit order. Leave having been taken with all dma

^i-v^f.

' I

' i

r i

«T. FlUffOIS DB f ALU.

eompMnirats of honour and respect, rs thff pr.or wu rt
tiring to his cell, he was met hv one cf the procurator!
of the houso, who ii«ik(>d him wliitlier he was gomp:, and
where he htid left Munseigncur of Geneva. ' I left him
in his i-oom/ replied the prior, 'and have taken leavfl
of him, that I may go and prepare myself in my cell
for matins, on Hccount of to-morrow's least.* * Ueally,
reverend father,' rejoined the reiifrious, * you are very
Ignorant of worldly proprieties. What ! it is question
merely of a feast of our oi-der, and have we then every
day the opjwrtunity of receiving prelates of such ex-
alted merit in our desert .' Do you not know that Ood
takes pleasure in the sacrifices ol" hospitality? You will
always have plenty of time to sing the praises of God
and matins in abimdance; but who can entertain so
great a prelate as well as yourself? What a disgrace
to the house that you should leave him by himself in
this way!* *My child,* replied the revei-end father,
* I believe you are right, and that I have done wrong.
And he immediately went back to the Bishop d
Geneva, and said to him with the most perfect in-
genuousness, * Monseigneur, as I was going away, I
met one of our officer, who pointed out to nie that I
had committed a fault in leaving you alone ; that I
ihould have other oppoitunities of attending matins, but
that it is not every day that we have Monseigneur of
Oeneva. I thought he was right, and so I came back
at once to entreat your pardon, and to beg you to ex-
cuse my fault, for I am telling you the truth when I
say that I committed it through inadvertence.' The
Saint was quite charmed with tnis singular instance ojf
frankness, candour, ingenuousness, and simplicity; and
assured me he was more delighted with it than if he
had witnessed a miracle.*'

The extreme simplicity which in St Francis himielf
was united to the profoundest humility is further ex-
hibited by M. de Belley. ** I have known,** he sa^
" great servants of Ood whom nothing could hare m-
iueed to allow any one to take their portrait, '

lilfijslj'iilli

Mmi" '

fT. nUNOn DB lALIt.

207

rat ft
iratort
jr,and
)fx him
I leave
ny cell
Heallj,
po very
uestion
I every
ich ex-
Ht God
'ou will
of God
tain 80
H8{rrace
mself in
father,
wrong,
iihop ct
feet in-
iway, I
3 that I
; that I
;inSy but
pfieur of
neback
1 to ex-
when I
u' Th«
tanoeof
;▼; and

himietf
bher ex*
le ityi,
lave m-

ini raeb an act would imply tome sort of vanity or
dangerous coinulaisance. Our Saint, who madH hiniseil
all tuings to all men, made no diiiiculty about the inat-
tw. His reason was tliis, that as the law of charity
obliges us to communicate to our neiglilraur the picture
of our mind, imparting to him frankly and without
grudging all we have leai'ut with resjiect to the science
of salvation, we ought not to make any greatoi ob-
jection to grive our friends the satisfaction they desire
of having before their eyes, through the meaium of
painting) the representation of our outward man. If
we see, not only without annoyance, but even with
pleasure, our books, whici ire the portraits of our minds,
m the hands of our nei;.-.. )ours, why gintdge them the
features of our face, if the iwssession of tiiem will con-
tribute any thing to their pleasure ? These are his own
words, writing on the subject to a fiiend : * Here, at any
rate, is the portrait of this earthly man, so Uttle am I
able to refuse you any thing you desire. I am told
that it is the test likeness that was ever taken of me,
bat I think that matters very little : In imagine per*
trantit homOf scd etfmstra conturbatur.* I had tf
borrow it in order to give it you, for I have none of my
own. Would that the likeness of my Creator did but
•hine forth in my mind ! — with what pleasure would you
behold it ! JesUf tuo lumincy tuo redemptoa sanguine^
Sana, refovef perficCf tihi conf'ormes effice. Amen,*i

'* Whereupon take notice of his ingenuity in draw-
ing profit from, and referring to God's glory, every
thmg that occurred ; taking occasion of this portrait
to teach so beautiffil a lesson of humility and modesty,
both to the person to wuom he was sending it and to
himself, after having first given the former a proof of
hii ready condescension. A man of a constrained and

• Ml

>MuijpassethMaBims|{e; yea, and If disquieted in Tain."
Psalm zxxTuL 7.

f O Jesus, by ThTliffht, heal, renen make perfect those who
have been redecned oy Thj blood, and make ttiem eonfomable
loTliee. Amen.

■'';'.'■•

•T. FRAMtflS J>B lALlH.

timid spirit would have stiffened himseh, a2id Wiiftk,4
have rather chosen some great mortificatioii than haT6
allowed his likeness to be taken. And why ? To pre-
serve humility, or for feur of offending Of>;ainst it ; and
here is a Saint who finds an opportunity in the very
same thing for the exercise of humility, and that with
so good a crace that it is hard to say which is the most

Eraiseworthy in this action, the generosity displayed in
is humility, or the humility evinced in his generosity."

The following little anecdote is also to the pomt.
'' In the year 1619 he accompanied his Eminence the
Cardinal of Savoy to Paris, who went thither to be pre-
sent at the maniage of the Prince of Piedmont, his
brother, with Madame the King's sister, Christine of
France. A man of the new religion asked to speak
with him one day, and was shown into his room. Thif
individual walking in, asked him at once, without the
preface of salutation or compliment, * Are you the per
ton they call the Bishop of Geneva T

** * Sir,' reptied our prelate, ' I am so styled.'

'' * I want you to tell me, since you are reckoned
ererj where to be an apostolic man, if the Apostlsi
drove about in carriages.*

** Our Saint wati a little taken by surprise at thii
attack ; but collecting himself, he remembered what if
related of St. Philip in the Acts of the Apostles, who
mounted the chariot or carriage of the eunuch of Can-
dace, queen of Ethiopia, which suggested to him the
reply, that they made use of carriages when it suited
their convenience, and as opportunity presented itself.

" The other shook his nead, and said, ' I should
like you to give me Scripture proof of tiiat ;' upon
which he referred to the example just mentioned. ' But
that carria^ 3,' replied the other, ' did not belong to him,
but to the eunucii who invited him into it.'

" * I did nof say that the carria^ belonged to himj
but only that when the opportumty pr^esented itadi
*k0W drove in carriages.'

'^ ' 7m \jf plded embroMered cwmgei, so gcff^

8T. PRANOIS DB SALBI.

dua

Lave
a pre-
; and

t with
) most
yed in
nsity."
point,
ice th6
be pre-
>nt, his
tine of
» speak
. Thii
out ths
Lheper

^koned
Lpostlflf

at thii
■what ii
les, who
of Can-
han the
it suited
Itself,
should
upon

*BVL%

to him*
to him

bimi
itseU;

goff^

oos, and driAwn by such splendid horses, and driven bj
eoaohmen in such handsome liveries, that the lauft him-
self would not turn out a grander equipage ? — tnis w«
do not read, and this is what scandalises me in you
who play the saint and are reputed such. Certainly
these are fine saints who journey to Paradise quite at
their ease.'

" ' Alas ! sir,' replied our Saint, * they of Geneva
who keep possession of the property of my bishopric
have cut the {rrass so close, that it is all I can do to live
in a small and poor way upon the remainder. I never
had a carnage of my own, or the means of keeping
one.

** * Then that grand and magnificent equipage in
which I constantly see you is not your own ?

** * No,' replied the Bishop, ' and you may well call
it g^rand, for it belongs to his majesty, and is one of
those which the king nas allotted for the persons who, '
hke myself, are in the suite of the princes of Savoy;
you may know them by the king^s livery which tne
coachman wears.'

" ' Well, I am very glad of it, and I like you the
better. You are poor, then, it seems V

" * I do not complain of my poverty, since I have
enough for a decent maintenance without superfluity ;
and even if I suffered something from straitened circum-
stances, t should do wrong to complain of what Jesus
Christ chose for His life-long portion, living and dying
in the arms of poverty. However, the family to which
I belong owing allegiance to the house of Savoy, I have
esteemed it an honour to accompany the Cardinal of
Savoy on this journey, and to be present at the cele-
bration of the alliance which his brother, the Prince of
Piedmont, c«atracts with France by his marriage with
Madame the King's sister.'

** The Protestant was so well satisfied with this ex-
planation, that he declared to him he would henceforth
hold him in esteem, and took his leave liighly pleased.
** It wu the Sainf B opinion that we should tako

Mhi

tio

ST. PRANOIt OH tALl

; i'

r:Te of our reputation, more for God's service than fin
«ur own honour, and rather to avoid scandal than to
augment our own credit. He compared reputation to
tobaooo, which may be of service when used in modera-
tion, and but seldom ; but wliich injures and ofifuscates
the brain when indulged in too often, and without mode-
ration. ' Wliat,' he exclaimed one dav, * is reputation,
that so many should sacrifice themselves to tnis idol ?
After all, it is but a dream, a shadow, an opinion, a
imoke, a praise, the memory whereof perishes with the
■oond — an esteem sometimes so filse, that many take
pleasure in hearing themselves lauded for virtues, of
which they all the while laum they have the opposite
vices ; and blamed for feult^ with which they aru not
ohargeable. Those who cociplain cf calumny are very
sensitive. It is a little cross cf words, which the wind
disperses. I do not like to hear a person say, * That
expression woimded me,' in allusion to sometlung of-
fensive which has been said to him ; for there is a great
deal of difference between the humming of a bee and
its sting. Wo must have " very delicate ear, sllA a very
thin skin, if the one cannot erdure the buzzing of a
fly, and if the other is pricked by thet mere sound of it.
Was ever a reputation so torn to pieces as that of
Jesus Christ ? What insult but was heaped upon Him ?
What calumny with wV?*^ He was not assailed ? And
yet the Father has g:^'*; f^im a Name which is above
every name, and has ex? 'ted fiim ib proportion to His
•basement And did not the Apostles go forth joyfully
from those assembMes w^ere they had received anronts
for the name of Jems f Oh, but it is a glory to suffer
in so noble a cause ! I understand — we must have no-
thing but illustrious persecutions, that our light may
be cusplayed in darkness, and our vain-glory shine in
the midst of our sufferings t We must be gloriously
emoified I But do you suppose thai, when the martyrs
tndnred tosh cruel tortures, they were praised by the
•peotat(m, and not, on the contrary, cursed and held in
nmnH/mf Ah. how few persons Hiere are who ai*

I ':

fr. fRAHOIt DB SALll

911

ready to laorifiee fheir repntatioiiy to promote therebj
the glory of Him who died so ignominionsly upon tM
oroeei to merit for va a glory that shall have no end T

''As I was about to repair to Paris, to preach the
Lent, he related to me the following anecdote, in order
to teaoh me to make little account of what people might
say of me. The superior of a college had given a rood
old man the charge of a clock, to prevent time from
hanging heavy on his hands. But the old man, after
a while, founa he had never had so wonmng and trou-
blesome an office imposed upon him. ' What !' said th«
superior, * do you mean the trouble of winding it up
twice a-day V * Oh, no !* he replied ; * I mean the being
bothered on all sides.' ' How so V rejoined the superior.
* It is,* replied the other, ' because when the clock is
rather slow, those who work at the college complain ,
and so, to please them, I put it on a little. Then the
townspeople &11 upon me, and say the clock gains; and
if I put it back to satisfy them, ^en I have the others
renewing their complaints; so that mv head is just like
the metal upon which the hanmier of the clock strikes,
and I am quite bewildered with all this &ult-finding.'
The superior, to comfort him, said, ' I will give you a
good piece of advice, which will keep them all quiet
When the dock gains, and people find &ult, say : Leave
it to me, I will see and put it oack.' ' But the others,'
exclaimed the ffood man, * will come open-mouthed at
me.' ' Say to wem,' replied the superior, 'Children, let
me alone ; I will see that it does not lose. But in the
mean time leave the dock alone to go as best it may;
only give good and quieting words, and all will be satis-
fiea, and you yourself in peace.'

« < Do you see,' said our Saint to me, 'you are about
to be the butt of many contradictory judgments. If
you attend to what people say of you, tnere will be no
nd of it. What is to oe dam, tuen ? Give them all
jood and kind words, but, after iU, go your own wa]^;
ysUoW your own bias; do not attempt to change it in
I ooiequottce of all the bmit UbIh- most of them oon-

•T. rRANOIS DB lALlS.

trarr to eaoh other — which you may reoeive ; look to
Oodf and abandon yourself freely to the leadings of
His gfrace. It ought to be a very small matter to us
to be judged of men, since it is not our object to please
them ; it is God who is our Judge, and who s 9 tho
ground of our hearts, and penetrates the darkness of its
MO$i hidden recesses.' "

m»

^'1

■ < !ix

m
M

t'l.

m:n

I ■

nni SiJVT's DocrRiKi of ritKrBOTioH, akd modi ov

SnaiTUAL OIBKOTION.

***! hear,' said our Saint sometimes, 'every om
talking about perfeotion, but I see very few persons
who prtectise it. Each has his own notion of it ; some
place it in austerity of dress, others in that of eating,
others in almsgiving, others in the frcquentation of the
sacraments, others m prayer, others in a certain species
of passive and exalted contemplation, others in those
extraordinary graces which are called gratuitous; but
ail these deceive themselves, mistaking the means or
the effects for the cause. As for me, I know of no
other perfection than the loving God with all our heart,
and our neighbour as ourselves. All other perfection
without this is a false perfection. Charity is the one
bond of perfection among Christians, and the only vir-
tue which unites us truly with God and with our neigh-
hour, which is our end and ultimate perfection. This
is the end of all perfection, and the perfection of every
end. I know that austerities, prayer, and other vir-
tuous exercises are excellent means to advance in per-
fection, provided tliey are done in charity, and through
the motive of charity. We must not, however, place
perfection in the metms, but in the end to which the
means conduct, otherwise it would be a stopping short
in the middle of oar road before we had reached the
fOtH*

**Ont Saint aft % high value on desuws, and itkl

!«1

IT. FRANCIS DB IIALBt. S18

diat upon the stood use of them depended all progresi
of thft spiritual edifice. To make great progress in
diyine love, wherein consists all our perfection, we must
have a perpetual dcsii'e to love Him more and more,
and must resemble those birds which the prophet saw^
which always flew riglit on without ever returning, and
that g^eat Apostle who always pressed forwards with-
out looking back, and without reckoning that he had
ever attained the goal, because in spiritual things, and
in divine love, nothing must ever suffice us ; sufficiency
here consisting principally in a desire of greater abuna-
anoe, since in tnis world charity can always increase,
however great we may imagine it to be ; its peimanent
and full-grown state being reserved for heaven. Oh,
how greatly did he admire those words of St. Bernard,
Amo aula amo, amo ut amem.* He does not love God
enougn, who does not desire to love Him more. One
who has a generous spirit is not satisfied with loving
ilim with all his heait, because, knowing that God is
erest^r tJian his heart, he would wish to have a larger
aeart, to love Him more.

'^ He said that the most serious occupation of a true
and faithful Christian was, to aim unceasingly at the
perfection »f his own state ; that is, to perfect himself
more and mure in the state of hfe in wliich he finds
himself. Now, the perfection of the state of each one
of us is, to proportion the means well to the end, and
CO makf * »ise of cucL rr: ire suited, in our state, to ad-
vance us in charity, m which alone consists the true
and essential perfection of Christianity, and without
which nothing can be called perfect. Our Saint recom-
mended, above all things, to avoid the fault of over-
eagerness, which he called the capital enemy and the
pest of true devotion. It is better, be said, to do a
little, and that well, than to undertake much, and exe-
cute it imperfectly. It is not, he obsei*ved, by the
multiplicity of the things which we do, that we advance

* I lovt Ood beoHiM I lovt ffia, tad I iov* Him in ordM
It loT* Him still btilw.

"?p; !(>'(

314

•T. FRANCIS DB 8ALB8.

1',

> - ■ '

in perfection, but by the fervour and purity of intentioD
wim which we do them. Whence we conclude,

" 1st. That our progress in perfection depends, not
•0 much on the multitude of our actions, as on the fer-
▼our of holy love with which we perform them.

"2d. That a good action, performed with gi*eat
fervour, is more meritorious, and more pleasing to God,
than many of the same sort performed with tepidity
and remissness.

" 8d. That purity of intention raises the merit of a
good action veiy high ; because, as the end of an ac-
tion is what imparts to it its value, the more pure and
excellent that end is, the more exouisite is the action.
Now, what worthier end can we nave in our actions
than that of God's glory ?

" In familiar conversations he would have us speak
littls and well, — that was his constant rule; and in
action he would have us not attempt so much, but per-
form what little we did wltiu great perfection. He
highly Improved of that saying of an ancient emperor.
Festina tente* Another of his favourite mottoes wai
* Soon enough, if well enough.'

" And wlien it was objected to him. What, then, is
to become of that insatiable love of which the masters
of the spiritual hfe speak — that love which never says
it is enough, which never thinks it has reached its goal,
but which is always pushing on with quick steps / — he
replied : ' It is by the roots we must make progi*ess in
this love, rather than by the branches.' Wnich he ex-
olained thus : ' To grow in branches is to perform p
multitude of virtuous actions, of which many are no»
only defective, but often superfluous, and like those use-
less vine-branches which must be pnmed to enrich the
firuit ; and to grow in root is to perform few works, but
with much perfection, that is, with much love of God,
wherein consists ail the perfection of a Christian. It is
to this that ihe Apostle exhorts us, when he tells no to
be rooted and/oMuled in charity , if we would know ^^
* ICak* hMto ilowlj.

■i..-^,. .f^^^.-.,.^ ^ — ---ri-liiirfMii

•T. FRANCIS DB SALES. 915

tharity of Christ f which mrpasseth knowledge.* But it
may be said : Can we do too much for God? and must we
not make haste to press on before the night of death comes,
when no one can work ; must we not do all the good we
can, while we have the time ? All these are adorable
truths, and worthy of our deep consideration ; but they
are not contraiT to this maxim, rather to perform a few

food and per^ct actions than many imperfect ones.
'o make a solid progress in perfection, it is not so much
question of multiplying' exercises as increasing the fer-
vour, the strength, and the purity of divine love in our
ordinary actions, since a small virtue animated by an
ardent, strong, and pure charity, is incomparably more
pleasing to God, and gives Him more glory, than a
more shining one performed with a tardy, weak, and
less purified charity.*

" Our Saint, with reference to this subject, told us
one day that some good nuns had once said to him,
* What shall we do, sir, this year ? Last year we fasted
three times in the week, and took the discipline as
often. What shall we do now ? for of course we must
do something more this yeoi*, both as an acknowledg-
ment of gratitude to God for the past, and also that we
may continually advance in His service.* ' You are
quite right,* I replied, ' in saying that we must be con-
tinually advancing ; but our progress is not effected, as
Tou imagine, by the multitude of our pious exercises,
out by the perfection with which we perform them,
ever placing more confidence in God and feeling greater
mistrust of ourselves. Last year you fasted three times
a week and took the discipline three times; if you
wish always to double your exercises, you must give
the whole week to them this year ; but what will you
do next year ? You will have to make nine days in
the week, or make a double fast each day. Great is
their folly who amuse themselves with desiring to go
and be martyred in the Indies, and meanwhile do not
apply themselves to the duties of their own state ; but

• £ph. til. 17, 18.

51'i^t.;

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■T. FRANCIS DS SALBt.

great also is the delusion of those who would eat more
than they can digest. We have not enough spiritual
warmth to digest well all that we take in hand for our
perfection, and yet we will not lay aside this anxious
•pint which possesses us of desiring to do a great deal.'

" Devotion, he said, was a gentle and tranquil fer-
vour, while eageraess was an indiscreet and tiirbiilent
bubble, and pulls down while it thinks to build up.
Of all the various species of eagerness, he above aU
blamed that of trying to do several things at once.
He compared it to endeavouring to thread more than
one needle at the same time. He who undertakes two
works at once succeeds in neither. When he was
doing any thing, or speaking of any matter, he gave
his whole mind to it, as if that were his only business,
and as if it were the last work he should have to per-
form in this world. Sometimes, when he was seen
to spend even whole hours T-iih persons of no conse-
quence, who were talking to him of things of trifling
importance, he would say, "These matters appear to
them weighty, and they desire to be comfortea, as if
they were so in fact. God knows, I do not require any
higher employment. All occupations are equal to me,
provided* they concern His service. While I am en-
g^agfed in these little works, I am not bound to be doing
any thing else. Is not the doin^ God's will a sufB-
ciently great work ? We make little actions great by
performing them with a great desire to please God ;
the merit of our services consisting not in the excel-
lency of the work, but in the love which accompanies
chem, and the merit of that love in its purity, and of
that purity in its unity of intention.'

" Although our Saint possessed the most eminent
virtues, nevertheless he had a tender love for the
smallest, that is for those which appear such in men's
eyes ; for there • are none, especially of the infused,
which are not great in the sight of God. * Every body,'
he said, ' desires to possess the splendid and striking
virtaM which an »tt«ob«d to the summit of the 0101%

BT. FRANOIB OB SALES.

'Jiat they may Im visible from afar and adm irea of me
But few seek to gather those which, like tlio sweei
thyme, grow at the foot and in tlie shadow of this titv
oi^life. And yet these are the most fragrant, ana
have been more abundantly watered with the Saviour's
Blood; who taught Christians, as their first lesson, to
learn of Him, who was meek and humble of Jisart.*
Every one is not called upon to exercise tne heroic
virtues of fortitude, magnanimity, magnificence, mar^
tyrdom, endurance, constancy, valour. The opportu-
nities for practising these are rare ; and yet all aspire
to them, because they are striking and glorious ; and
often it will happen that pei-sons, imagining they are
capable of them, become puffed up with a vain self-
confidence, and when the time for action comes, tumbl«
upon their noses. We do not meet with opportunities
for making large siuns of money every day, but every
day we can gain farthings and pence ; and by econo-
mising well these little profits, we may in time grow
rich. We should heap up great spiritual riches, and
lay up much treasure in heaven, if we employed in
the service of the holy love of God all the trivial occa-
sions which are presenting themselves every moment.
It is not sufficient to perform actions of great virtue, if
we do not perform them with great charity ; for it is
this virtue which gives the foundation, the weight, the
mice, and the vtuue to good works in the sight cl
God ; and an action of small virtue (for all virtues are
not equal in their nature) performed with much love of
God, IS far more excellent than one of a higher virtue
done with less love of God. A cup of cold water given
with this great love is meritorious of eternal life. Two
pieces of money of very trifling value, given with this
same love by a poor widow, were preferred by Jesus
Christ Himself to the costly presents which the rich
east into the treasury. People set little value on
thoM slight acts of condescension to the tiresome ha*

'^1

1)9

* St. HattbAw zL M

918

ST. FRAKCI8 DB SALES.

H I

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iV^ m

monrs of our neighbour, on bearing his imperfectiooi
with sweetness, and modestly putting up with his dis-
i^^reeable behaviour; on the We oi contempt and of
our own humiliation; on natience under some slight
injustice, or preference of others to ourselves, or afiront
received, or on the performance of lowly actions be-
neath our condition ; on receiving thankfully ; on hum*
bling ourselves to equals and inferiors, and ti«ating our
servants with consideration and kindness : all this seems
very pitiful to those whose heart is lofty, and whose
eyes are exalted. We would have nothing but showy
and well-dressed virtues, which reflect credit on us,
without considering that they who would please men
are not the servants of God, and that the friendship of
the world makes us the enemies of God.' "

It was consistent with these views that this great
Saint should have attached much higher importance to
internal than to exterior mortification, and that his
method was to be^n from within, laying a solid foun-
dation for the spiritual life, and drawing persons on
gently to those external remmciations which were the
DTuit of a genuine humility and love of God.

** He was in the habit of saying," observes M. de
Belley, ** that grace in general imitates nature and not
art, which only v^orks externally, as, for instance, in
painting and sculpture, whereas nature begins its works
from within ; hence the saying, that the heart is the
first, to live, and the last to die. When endeavouring
to lead souls to a Christian life, and to c^et them to ^ve
up their worldly habits, he did not talk to them of ex-
tem£:ls, neither of their hair, nor their dress, nor such
like things ; he spoke only to the heart and of the heart ;
knowing well that if that fortress was gained, the rest
would never hold out. * See, when a house is on fire,' he
SLid, 'how people throw all the furniture out at the
: indows. When the true love of God gains possession
of a heart, all which is not God seems but little worth.'
Some one expressing surprise, one day, that a distin-
fuiiF had lady of great piety« who was under his diree

erfeotioai
1 his dis-
)t and of
ne slight
or afiront
tions be-
on hum*
ating our
his seems
nd whose
ut showy
it on us,
ease men
indship of

his great
}rtance to
that his
olid foun-
ersons on
were the

ves M. de
■e and not
stance, in
I its works
art is the
eavouring
im to ffive
lem ol ex-
, nor such
the heart ;
[, the rest
m 6re/ he
lut at the
possession
ue worth/
i a distin-
his diree

fT. FRANOll DI SALIS.

Sl»

tun, had not fyen. left off wearing ear-rings, ho replied,
' I assure you I do not so much as know whether she
has any ears; for she comes to confession with her head
M completely covered up, or with a great scarf so
thrown over it, that I do not know how she is dressed.
Besides, I believe that that holy woman, Rebecca, who
was quite as virtuous as nhe is, lost nothing of her
holiness by wearing the ear-rings which Eliezer pre-
sented her on the part of Isaac' This same lady,
having caused some diamonds to be set upon a gold
cross she wore, was accused to the holy Bishop of vanity
on this account, who replied, that what was reprehended
as an instance of vanity, was to him matter of much
edification. * Would,' he said, ' that all the crosses in
the world were covered with diamonds and all manner
of precious stones: is not this to devote the spoils of
the Egyptians to the service of the tabernacle, and to
glory m the cross of Jesus Christ? What better use
can she make of her jewels than to adorn with them
the standard of our redemption?' All through love,
nothing through constraint : this was his great motto,
and the mainspring of his direction. I have often heard ^
him make this beautiful observation : ' In the royal gal
ley of divine love there is no galley-slave; all the row
ers are volunteers.' Upon this prmciple he never gave
a command except in the fonn of persuasion or r -'quest.
He desired that m matters of spiritual government men
should deal with souls according to the mode observed
by God and His angels, — leading them by inspirations,
sug^stions, illuminations, remonstrances, entreaties, so-
licitations, in all patience and doctrine ; knocking like
the spouse at the door of heai*ts, gently pressing against
diem that they may open ; if so be they open, intro-
ducing salvation into them with joy; if they refuse,
bearing the denial with gentleness.

** As I complained to the Saint of the opposition I
met with, in my diocesan visits, to the good I wished
to effect; 'What a domineering spirit you have!' he
' You want to walk upoi^ the wings of the wind;

Hi <

(

■ '• «..

fT. VBAMOIS DE 8ALBS.

H ; I !

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you Iflt yonr seal cany yor away. You want to do
more than God, and constrain the wills of creatui'os
whom God has made iree. You deal summarily, as it
the wills of your priests were all in your hands. But
God, in whose hands are the hearts or all men, does not
tot thus. He hears with resistance and rebellion against
the light He gives ; He allows His inspirations to he
opposed, even to the grieving of His Spirit ; and finally
Buffers those to destroy themselves who, thi'ough the
hai'dness of their impenitent hearts, heap up treasures
of wrath against the day of vengeance. Nevertheless,
He ceases not to send them inspirations, although men
resist His attractions, and say to Him : Depart ^m us ;
we will not follow your ways. Our guardian angels
imitate His behaviour in this respect ; and thous'h we
abandon God by our iniquities, they do not abandon us.
Do you desire Mtter examples for the regulation of your
eondnct?'

" He was frequently employed to bring about the
reform of religious houses; out his method was to ad-
vance very gently, pi-actising his own device of making
haste slowly ; for tnough divine grace does not love
delays, nevertheless he would not have one push on
with an injudicious fervour, which is always going into
extremes, and fails of doing good irom wishmg to do
too much at once. He desired to advance step oy step,
often repeating that saying of the wise man, that * the
path jf the just as a shining light goeth forwards and
tncreaseth even to perfect dai/J* * True progress,' he
said, 'is from the less to the greater. God Himself,
who has no need of time to bring things to perfectiou
although He powerfVdly accomplishes the end He pro-
poses to Himself, effects it by such gentle methods,
that they are almost imperceptible.' He did not follow
the example of those who begin reforiaation by the ex-
terior, in order to arrive, as they sav, at the interior,
and stop so long at the bark, that they forcret the pith.
In introdudug a reform into monastMMa be- iMsstMl is

• FNf. if, 1ft.

'! ini

fT. FRANCIS 1>E tJALES.

2S1

those of men only on two poini3, — the exercise of me-
tal pi*ayer, with its inseparable companion, spiritual
reading", and the freq\ienting' uf the two sacraments of
penance and the Holy Eucharist. * With these,' he said,

* all will be broug-ht about without effort and without
contradiction, gently and grad\ially.' For women, he
required but two thing's ; one corporal, the other spi-
ritual. 1. Enclosure, as enjoined by the Council of Trent :
without the observance of this rule, he did not think they
could live with leputation, or safety to their honour.
2. Mental prayer twice a day, half an hour each time.

* With attention to these points,* he said, * a convent of
women can be very easily brong-ht back to their duty
and the observance of their rule.' Of austerities and
corporal mortifications he said nothing, recommending
no fasts beyond those of the Church, neither bare feet,
nor abstinence froni meat, nor disuse of linen, nornight-
watchings, nor so many other mortifications; — holy
practices, it is true, but which in themselves regard only
the exterior. Being consulted one day upon the intro-
duction of bare feet into a religious house, he replied,

* Why don't they leave their shoes and stockings alone ?
it is the head that wants reforming, not the feet.* He
considered that indiscieet austerities are one of the
snai'es into which those who are entering on a devout
life ai*e apt to fall. They fancy they can never do too
much, as if they would oy main force repair their past
faults ; hud they never think they ai'e doing so well as
when they are spoiling every thing. The evil spirit,
who can fashion his arrows against us out of all kinds
of wood, makes use of these immoderate fervours to ren-
der them subsequently unfit for the service of God, for
wa^it of bodily vigour. We ought to be more discreet,
and remember that God desires of us a reasonable ser-
vice. St. Beraard, in the early days of his conversion,
RvX^iill 'd. '■ X)n that stone ; and towards the end of his
Hfe he blfiuiol his past austeiities as others blame their
excesses, and in his humility called them the errors ol
his ysattL To a nun who, from a motive of penance^

m:mm

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Mi'

limmi

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S2S

•T. FRANCIS DB 8ALU.

had undertaken mora bodily austerities than her deli*
cate and feeble constitution could support, our Saint

fave this counsel, woithy of his gentleness and pru-
ence : ' Do not burden your weak body with any aus-
terity beyond what your rule imposes. Preserve youi
bodily strength to serve God m spiritwd exerciseSi
which we ai'e often obliged to retrench when we have
indiscreetly overladen the soul's fellow-labourer in their
performance. Very few persons, even among such as
are spiritual, hold the balance fairly in this matter ; the
spirit, which is willing, almost always overloading the
flesh, which is weak. They do not reflect that as the
spirit cannot bear the flesh when it is too well fed, neither
con the flesh support the spirit when it is kept too low.'
" Interior mortifications are incomparably more ex-
cellent than external ones, and they ai*e not subject, like
the latter, to hypocrisy, vanity, and indiscretion. And
those which God sends us, or which come to us on the
pai't of men by His jiermission, are always more pre-
cious than such as are the ofl^pring of our own will.
These prove a stumbling-block to many who embrace
with eagerness the mortifications which their inclina-
tion suggests, and which, notwithstanding their appa-
rent severity, are no great trouble to them, on account
of the facihty which their own predilection imparts ; but
when they encounter some which proceed from another
cause, they find them insupportable, however slight they
may be. For instance, such a one will have a strong
inclination for the discipline, for hair-shirts, fasts, and
sackcloth, but will be so sensitive withal about his repu-
tation, that the most trifling jest or unfavourable obser-
vation will put him out of oreath, and will trouble his
peace of mind and prejudice his reason, can*ying him on
to deplorable extremities. Another will apply himsell
with ardour to the exercises of prayer and penance and
the practice of silence, who will give way to excessive
impatience and anger, and fly out in unmeasured la-
mentations at the loss of a law-suit, or some trifling
damage to property. A third will give alms libendlj^

il'li

]}

•T. FRAirOIB Dl SALM.

and found magnificent obaritable establishments, wbj
will break forth in groanp and tremble with fear at th«
slightest infirmity or sicl^ess, and firom whom the most
trifling' bodily pain draws untold and interminable la-
mentations. According as each is severally attached
to the good things which minister to honour, pofit, or
pleasure, they bear with more or less patience the ills
which are contrary to these species of goods, without
considering that it is the hana of God which bestows
and takes them away, according to His pleasure. It is,
in fact, that we wish to serve God, not according to His
Will, but according to our own ; in our way, not His.
Do you think this is just?

" To cure this malady of the soul, our Saint ad-
dresses it in these tenns : * Kiss frequently in your heart
the crosses which our Lord Himself has laid upon you.
Do not stop to examine if the wood of which they are
composed is precious or odoriferous. They are more
frequently crosses when they are of a coirimon, vile, and
unfraffrant wood. It is a good thing that this thought
should be ever recurring to me, and that it should be
the only song I know; doubtless it is the son^ of
the Lamb ; it is somewhat sad, but it is sweet and nar-
monious : FatJiery not as I nUlf but as Thou milt.
Magdalen seeks our Lord while holding Him. She in-
Quires for Him of Himself. She did not see Him in
tne form she desired, and so she was not satisfied with
seeing Him thus ; she sought Him, that she might find
Him otherwise. She desired to see Him in His robe
of glory, and not in the mean habit of a gardener. Ne-
vertheless, she knew Him when He said to her Mary.
Do you see it is our Jjord in the gardener^s dress whom
you meet every day here and there in the little conunon
mortifications which happen to you ? you would wish
Him to offer you more oriUiant mortinoations. my
Lord, the most brilliant are not the best. Do you not
believe that He says to yo'2, Mary, Mary? No, be-
fore you behold Him in His fjlarj, He wishes to plant
in your garden many littls kmlj flonrera, but flowen

I,,

i]::

Bm\i

ii-:

194

•T. FRANOia DB flLlt.

much to His taste ; this is why He wean thii ftttirai
May our hearts be ever united to His, and our wills to
His ffood pleasure !'

^^Our Saint was lu the habit of blaming a rather
common mistake amongst persons making a special pro*
fession of pietj , who frequently apply themselves to the
practice of the virtues least conformable to their state^
and neglect those which are the most suited to it. * This
disorder/ he said, 'proceeds from the distaste which men
very commonly feel for the occupations which their du-
ties impoM upon them. As relaxation gradually finds
its way into convents when their inmates wish to linut
themselves to the practice of the virtues belonging to
the secular state ; so, on the other hand, it is a source of
no less trouble ixi private families, where an indiscreet
and injudicious devotion would seek to introduce into
them the exercises of the cloister. Some persons fancy
they are highly extolling a secular household, when
they say it resembles a religious house, and that the life
led within it is quite conventual ; forgetting that this if
to seek to gather figs on thom-buslies, or grapes on
brambles. Not but that these exercises are good and
holy ; but we must consider and take into account the
circumstances of place, time, persons, and condition.
An ill-ordered charity is no longer charity ; it is a fish
out of water, and a tree transplanted into a soil which if
not fit for it.' He compared this inconsistency of mind.
which exhibits so great a deficiency of good sense ana
judgment, to the caprice of those epicures who wish to
nave fresh cherries at Chiistmas, and ice in the month
of August, not being satisfied with eating of each thing
in its proper season.

^'There is nothing so common in the world, and
perhaps out of the world, as dissatisfaction with our
state in life. When the enemy cannot induce us to sia
by open temptations, ho attacks us on one side, and
when he cannot make us stumble, he does all he. can to
disturb us ; and there are no more vexatious subjeoti
of disquietude, ot produotive of more liittenMiiy this

Attiftu

irillsto

rather
ial pro-
SCO the
r state;
. *Thi8
Loh men
leir du-
ly finds
to limit
ging to
ource of
idiscreet
lice into
as fancy
i, when
b the life
it this !■
■apes on
ood and
9unt the
mdition.
is a fish
which if
)f mind.
)nse ana
wish to
month
)h thing

^Id, and
rith our
tosia
|de, and
le.oan to
jguhjeoti
tbiB

IT. PHAMOIf PI tALIf.

Ao.K which incline us to dissatisfaction with our state
fan life. The Holy Spirit speaking in the Scriptures cries
CO us, Let every one abiae in the state to which Ood
hte called him; and the evil spirit suggests nothing so
much to us as to leave and change it. This is why the
great secret is to stick firmly hy the hoat in which God
has placed us, that we may make a prosperous voyage
through life to the harbour of a blessed etomity. ouch
was our Saint's opinion, which he thus expressed : * Do
not amuse your mind with other matters. Do not sow
your desires in other men's fields ; be contented with
cultivating your own well. Desire not to be what you
are not, but desire to be excellently well what you are.
Let your thoughte be occupied with perfecting yourseli
in this, and in bearing the crosses, be they great or
small, which you meet therein. BeUeve me. tms is the
ffreat secret, and the least understood of the spiritual
ufe. Each loves according to his taste, few according
to their duty and our Loras taste. What is the use of
bviilr'ln^ castles in Spain (castles in the air), if our lot
is cist m France ? It is my old lesson. You know it
well.* "

To sum up, as given by M. de Belley, the opinions
of St. Francis upon the relative importance of uie vir-
tues as conducing to our perfection :

'^ 1. He preferred those the practice of which if the
most firequent and common, to such as are seldomer
called into exercise.

" 2. He would not have us judge of the comparative
supernatural merit of a virtue by the greatness of its
external act ; inasmuch as a virtue apparently small may
be practised with much grace and charity, and a more
splendid one with a ver^ feeble degree of the love of
God, which nevertheless is the rule and the measure of
their true value in His sight.

** 3. He preferred the more universal virtues to mioh
as me more limited in their reach, charity alwm
excepted. For instance, he had a higher esteem ror
prayer, which is the tor^ of all the rest; for deTotioB,

m '

•T. FKANOM DB flMt.

whieh consecrates fdl our actions to the serrioe-of God :
for humility, which makes us have a low opinion oi
ourselves and of our actions : for gentleness, which
makes us yield to every one : for patience, which makes
us endure all thingp^; than for magnanimity, magnifi-
cence, or liberality, both because they regara fewer ob-
jects, and because they have less scope.

" 4. The shining virtues were regarded by him with
• little suspicion; for their splendour, he observed,
gives a strong handle to vain-glory, which is the very
Doison of all virtue.

*'■ 5. He blamed those who esteem virtuee only ac-
cording to the value set upon them by the gpenerality
of men, who are very bad judges of that kind of mer-
chandise. Thus, they will prefer temporal to si)iritual
alms; hair-shirts, fasting, and bodily austerities, to
meekness, modesty, and mortification of heart, which
are nevertheless far more excellent

** 6. He reproved also those who would only pno-
tise the virtues which were conformable to their taste,
without troubling themselves about those which more
especially belonged to their office and the duties of their
state, serving God according to their own fashion, not
according to His will; which ii so ^requect an aouse,
that wo see numbers of persons, and thoM among tbf
devont, who are earned away by it*'

! I

m'M.

M 1

h;i

aAnra^B MomTmoATioir, ajto his oranoiis non nam

•UBJaCT AMD THAT 07 nUTIB.

** It was a golden saymg of our Saint, and one I
fiave sometimes heard from nis own lips, ^at he who
mortifies tLe most his natural inclinations, attracts the
greater abundance of supernatural inspirations; and
assuredly interior and exterior mortification are a great
means to draw down upon us the &vonr8 of heaven*
m^vided they bo practised in and by charity. Ai ths

fGodt

aion <n
whioh
imakei
aagnifi-
wer ob*

imwith
Menredy
lieTery

mly ac-
nerali^
of mer-
Bpiritaal
itiesy to
i, whioh

lypno-
ir taste,
oh mora
i of their
lion. liot

I EDUM,

ong tbi

irnn

id onol
he who
raots the
is; and
) a great
heaveiu
Aathn

•V. FRANCIS DB iALlf. ■

heaTenly manna wai not ffiven to Israel in the dese •
until they had consumed tSl the flour they had broughc
out cf Egypt, so also the divine favours are sel(&m
▼uuohsafed tu tliose who are stiU following their worldly
inclinations. It was his opinion, that mortification with-
out prayer was a body without a soul; and prayer with-
out mortification a soul without a body. Ho wished
these two to be never separated, but that, like Martha
and Maiy, they should, without disputing, combine to
serve the Lord. He wmpai'ed them to tne two scaIoi
of a balance, of whi( h the one rises when the othei
sinks. To raise the mind by prayer, the body must be
kept down by mortification ; otherwise the flesh wih
weig'h down the sprit, and hinder it firom raising itseb
to God. The lily and the .t)8e of piayer and contem-
plation are preserved and nourished well only amidst
the thorns of mortification. We ascend the mil of in-
cense, the symbol of prayer, only b^ the mountain oi
the myrrh of mortification. Incense itself, which re-

E resents i)rayer, exhales its fragrance only when it u
umt; neither can prayer asc jndto heaven with a sweet
tdour, unless it proceeds from a moitified person. When
we are dead to ourselves and our passions, it is then
that we live to (lod, and that He feeds us in time of
prayer with the bread of life and light, and with the
manna of His inspirations

'^ Oar Sfiiut had a remarkable saying on this sul
iect : * W« must live in this world as if our spirits were
m beareo, and our bodies in the tomb. We must IIto,
he said, 'a dyin? death, and die a living and hfe-giving
death, in the life of our king, our flower, our sweetest
Saviour. To live a dying death, is to live, not accord-
ing to the sen ^es and natural inclinations, but according
to the spirit a^id th supernatural .nclinations. It is a
death according to nature, but a lite according to the
spirit. It is to c&use the old man to die in us, that tna
new man may arise firom his ashes. And to die a livmg
and life-ffiving death is, to mortify and oruoif|r the fleah,
with Hi deiues; to cause thf spirit to Vlj^ of the Uit of

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I, wHoli has been merited for us bj the life and
leath of Jesws Christ, who knows how to extract life
firom death, as Samson drew the honeycomb and the
meat from the jaw of the deyouring lion. And as-
ioredlj, unless we die with Jesus GImst, we shall not
liye with Him ; and if we do not suffer with Him, we
shall not reign with Him.*

" He was so adroit during his lifetime in his use
and concealment of instruments of penance, that the
servant who waited on him at rising and goinr to bed
never perceived them; and death alone revoued this
secret, and manifested what he had always so carefiilly
hidden. One instance may suffice. His servant found
« little water left in a basin of a reddish hue, as if tinged
Mth blood ; not being able to guess the cause — for it
was some water he had brought the Saint to wash his
hands — ^lie observed him so closely, that he afoertained
^t he washed his discipline, which was tinged with
blood, in this basin, and tnen having thrown away the
water, a little remained at the bottom, which had gjven
fse to the suspicion.

'^ He often repeated this Oospel maium. Eat tuck
%ing9 08 are set lefore yoUy* inferring tiiat it was a
^jfreater mortification to be ready to accommodate one's
taste to every thing, than always to choose the worst.
The choicest dishes are often, for all that, not the most
to our taste; and to receive them, therefore, without
testifying any aversion, is no small mortification. It
mconvemences him alone who thus puts a constraint
apon himself. He considered that there was a want of
politeness, when at table, in taking or asking for some
dish not near you, declining what is in your immediatf
neighbourhooa. This, he said, was to betray a mind
attentive to dishes and sauces. But if this be don0|
Aoc from sensuality, but in order to choose the com*
monest food, there is in this proceeding a spioe of al^
iMwdouy which is as inseparable from oitentstioB at

e and
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id the
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■T. FRANOIB DB lALBl.

999

■moke 18 from fire. As it is quite possible to be glut*
tonous on a cabbage, so also may we be temperate upon
partridges ; but to be indifferent to both is to exhibit a
mortification of the taste which is by no means com-
mon. It is a more difficult act to eat of dainty food
without relishing it, than to restrict ourselves to coarse
fiire of which we partaks with satisfaction.

'^ One day he nad been dining on eggs poached in
water ; and when he had finished them, he DCffan dip-
ping his bread in the water, as he had done in the eggs.
Those who were at table with him smiled at observinff
this inadvertence, and having asked the cause, fie saic^
* You certainly were very wrong to undeceive me of so
agreeable an illusion; ror I assure you I never ate a
sauce with greater relish. My good appetite, perhaps,
had not a little share in it ; so true is tne proverb, that
hunger is the best sauce.' This little incident reminds
IS of St. Bernard, who drank some oil believing it to
)e wine, so little attention did he pay to what he was
eating or drinking.

'' One day, when I had helped him to rather a deli-
cate morsel, and observed that he had quietly pushed
It into a comer of his plate, and was eating something
common, ' I have cauglit you out,' I exclaimed : ' what
becomes of the evangelical precept. Eat such things as
are set before you T He replied very sweetly, * You
don't know, perliaps, that I have a very rustic stomach,
like a peasant's ; if I do not eat something solid and
coarse, I feel as if I had taken no nourishment ; these
delicacies seem like nothing at all, and do not support
My father,* I replied * this is one of your tricks;

me.

these are the veils which you throw over your austeri-
ties.' ' I am really using no disguise,' ne rejoined ;
' I speak with all jfrankness and sincerity. However,
to tell you my fiill mind without reserve or conceal-
ment, I do not deny that delicate meats are more pleas-
ing to my taste than coarser food. I do not wish for
high saltmg, spicing, and flavouring, to make the wixn
%8ta better; we Ssvoytids idish it sniEoiaitly withoai

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that ; but as we sit down to table rather to sustain our
bodies than to gratify our sensuality, I take what I
know nourishes me most and suits me best ; for you
know we must eat to live, not live to eat, that is, to be
an epicure about choice bits, and to give our attention
to dishes, and the variety of food before us. However,
to do honour to your g^d cheer, if you will wait pa-
tiently, I will satisfy you ; for after laying the founda-
tion of the repast by these more solid and nutritious
viands, I will roof it in with the slates of the mom deli-
cate morsels which you please to give me/ How many
virtues go to form this apparently trivial action ! Sin*
ceiity, truth, candour, simplicity, temperance, sobriety^
condescendence, benevolence, prudence, equanimi^.
Gracious souls, whose actions are all performed by t£e
movements of grace, produce nothing trifling; fin* the
works of God are perfect, especially the worloi of Hia
grace, and so they nave glory for their crown. Wht
ther you eat or arinkf or whatsoever else you dOf nyi
the Apostle, do all to the glory of God.*

** Our Saint set a great value on a common mode
of life ; for th^jB reason, he would not have the daugh-
ters of the Visitation, which he founded, practise any
extraordinary austerities in dress, sleeping, or food ; the
rules he laid down for their food, lasts, and clothing
being similar to those observed by such as would live a
Christian life in the world. In which respect these

good daughters are imitators of Jesus Christ, of Hii
oly Mother, and of the Apostles, who followed this
mode of life, leaving it to the judgment and discretimi
of superiors to permit or prescribe extraordinary mor-
tifications, according to the needs of individuals who
may require this treatment. Not but that our Saint
valued bodily austerities; but he wished them to bo
made use of with a zeal accompanied by knowledce^
thus preserving the purity of the body without ininmg
the health. £i a word, he preferred the lift of Jaw

•I0or.x.»

•T. FRAHOII OB SALBft. 2S1

Christ to that ot' John the Baptist. ' To know Turn t9
abound, and how to mffer want, acoordinff to the say*
in^ of St. Paul, was a favourite toxt mm him. He
said that it was more difficult to know how to ahound
than how to suffer want. A thousand fall at the left
hand of adversity, but ten thousand at the rif^ht of
prosperity; so hard is it to keep a straight course when
we want for nothing ; which made Solomon say, Give
ms neither beggary nor riches; give me only the necet^
taries of life.* He who can kiss with an equable mind
each hand of God, has attained a high point of Chris-
tian perfection, and shall find salvation in the Lord.

"He never took recreation for his own pleasure, but
only fi'om a spirit of condescension. He had no gardei
attached to the two Iiouses which he occupied during
nis episcopacy ; and he never took a walk except when
company necessitated his doing so, or the doctor had
oi-dered it for his health ; for he was very punctual in
his obedience to such directions. Herein nis praotioe
resembled the austerity of St. Charles Borromeo, who
could not endure that, after meals, the company h«
received should amuse themselves by spending their
time in useless conversations, saying that it was un-
worthy of a pastor charged with so um^ and weighty
a diocese, and who had so many better occupations.
This was natural in a saint whose life was an especial
pattern of severity ; so that no one thought it Strang*
wlien he broke off the conversation on such occasioniu
to seek elsewhere wherewithal to emnloy that great zeal
for souls and for the house of Goa which consumed
him. Our Saint was of a more indulgent spirit, and
did not withdraw from conversation afker meals. When
I was on a visit to him, he used to seek to recreate me
after the labour of preaching. He would take me ou '
in a boat on that beautiful lake which bathes the wallf
of Anneoy, or to walk in some pleasant gardeni on iti
&ir banka. When he oame to see ir« at flcUej, lie dU

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not decline similar' reoreaticns, in wbioh I invited him
to iudnlffe; but he never proposed them, or Bougkc
them of ms own accord. Agam, when persons spoke
to him of buildings, paintings, music, hunting, birds,
plants, gardening, flowers, he did not blame those who
took an terest in these things, but he would have
desired mat thej should make use of these occupations
as so many means to raii^e themselves to God ; and he
himself set the example, by drawing from all these
subjects motives for heavenly aspirations. If beautiful
plants were pointed out to him, 'We are/ he would
observe, 'the field which God cultivates.' If some
magnificent and splendidly-adorned church, 'We are
the temples,' he would say, ' of the living God. that
our souls were as richly adorned with virtues!' If
flowers, 'When shall our flowers yield fruit?' If rare
and exQuisite paintings, 'There is nothing so fair as the
soul, wmch is made to the image of God.' If taken
into a garden, he would exclaim, 'Owhen shall the
warden of our soul be sown with flowera, and filled with
ruit, weeded, dressed, and trimmed? Wlien shall it
be fenced in, and closed against everv thing which is
displeasing to the heavenly Gkurdener ? On beholding
fountains, 'When shall we possess within our hearts
the source of living water, springing up to life ever-
lasting ? How long shall we forsake the source of life,
to diff for ourselves leaking cisterns ? 0, when shall
we draw to our content nrom the Savionr^s foun-
tains ?' "

M. de Belley gives other similar instances, and
concludes with these words : " Thus he beheld Qod in
all things, and all thin^ in God ; or rather, he beheld
but one thing — GodI omy.

" Our Samt used to say that by interior recollection
we retired into God, or drew God within ourselves.
' But when and where can we have recourse to it ? At
all times and in all places. Neither repast, nor company,
nor change, nor occupation, csn hinder it<, as neither doM
a Mndn or interfere with any action; on the oontrniy.

IT. FKANOIf DB tALM •

S88

k is a salt wliioh seasons ewerj kind of meat, or rather
a sugar which spoils no sance. It consists only in in-
terior looks between the soul and Qod, — of our souls
towards God and of God upon our souls ; and the simpler
this recollection is, the better. As for aspirations, tney
are short but ardent bounds towards GUxl ; and the more
▼eLement and loving an aspiration is. the better it is.
AU these bounds or aspirations are so much the better,
as they are shorter. That of St. Bruno seems to me
very excellent for its brevity : * ffoodness !' — as also
that of St. Francis : * My God, my ful !* — of St. Aujrus-
tine : ' To love ! to die to self! to attain to Grod !' Iliese
two exercises are mutually connected, and succeed each
other, as do the acts of inhaling and exhaling. For
even as when we inhale we draw 3ie fresh air from with-
dut into our lungs, and in exhaling we breathe forth
warm air, so inhaling by recollection we draw God
Irithin us, and by aspiration we cast ourselves into the
Arms of His goodness. Happy the soul which thus
inhales and exhales ; for by tnis means it dwells in Qod
and God in it.

''There are persons who become discouraged in
prayer, and are even led to discontinue it, not on ac-
count of the difficulties they meet with, but because, as
they say, they are unfaithml to the resolutions formed
at that time, and dread incunin^ more guilt than if
they formed none at all. Our Saint looked upon this
as a very dangerous stratagem of the enemy. * Men
wait,' he said, ' a whole year to reap an ear of com
from a grain they have cast into the earth ; and many
years to eat apples from a pip they haye sown. We
must never leave the exercise of prayer except to attend
t^ more important work ; and even then we must repair
the loss by fre(j[uent aspirations. And we must never
give over making resolutions during this exercise, for
they are the special fruit of prayer; and although we
may not at once put them in execution, and may giye
in and draw back on the fust oooasion% oererthMeM
fhate leede do not fiul to teke root in o«r heitrti^ mm

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384

•T. FRAllOIf OB MALWa.

to bear firait at another seasoii, eyen when we liafe at
recollection of haying made them. And mipposing we
accomplished nothing further by these resolutionB than
exercising ourselyes in spiritual course, these acts of
goodwill would still be pleasing to uod, who under'
stands our ' nights ifar off, and who searches out owr
path and o lv»£j* Supposing we did no more than
the pupik who take lessons in a reading or fencing*
school, it would still be something ; and euoh an one, as
the old saying has it, will run away to-day^ who will
fight yaliantly at some future time. We most neyer,
then, lose heart, but say with the prophet, In the Lord
I put my trust : how then do you say to my soul. Get
tMse anayfrom hence to the mountain like a marrow ft
Why art thou cast downy my soul, ana why dost
thou disquiet me ? Hope thou in Ood.X Yes, we will
indeed still give praise to Himj and senre Hun Mmc
day, for He is my salyation, my strength, and my true
God/

*' I asked onr Saint one day if it was not better te
choose one single point for the subject of our prayei}
and to draw from it one affection only and one resolu-
tion. He replied, that unity and simplicity in all things,
but more particularly in spiritual exercises, was always
preferable to multiplicity ; that it was only beginners
who were adyised to take several for the subject of their
meditation. With resai'd to the multiplicity of affec-
tions and resolutions, he said that when spring was pro-
digal of flowers, then it was that the bees made loss
honey, inasmuch as, taking pleasure in hovering about
over this abundance, they did not allow themselves time
to extract the juice and essence of which their honey-
comb is formed. Drones, he added, make a great deal
of noise and very little profit. When asked whether
it was not better to retiim frequently to the same affe<y
tion and resolution, the better to imprint them on the
foul, he said that we ought to imitate painters arH
wolpton, who •ooomplish their work by means of f**

• Pk tszxTiiL a. tFfe.s.L t^lkslLia.

•T. VIUNOIS DB SlLBt.

saa

pro-

I 1081

iient«d strokes of the pencil and the chisel ; and that
to make a deep impression on our hearts it was neces-
sary often to repeat the same thing. He added, that
as m swimming those who throw their arms and legs
rapidly about sink, whereas they ought to move them
vently and leisurely, so also those who are too eager
m prayer consume themselves in vain reflections, and
their dissipated thoughts toiment their hearts.*

" In reply to the question, how we are to understand
the saying, attributed by our Saint to the great St.
Anthony, that he v» ho is engaged in prayer ought to
have his attention so completely occupied with Ood
that he ou^ht even to forget he is praying, inasmuch
as this reflection upon his act implies attention, and if
not in itself a distraction, is at least an occasion of dis-
traction, by opening the door to it, I reply by our Saint's
doctrine on this subject, that we must keep our soul
steadily fixed in prayer, ^'thout allowing it to cast off
upon itself to observe whb„ it is about, or if it is pray-
ing to its own satisfaction. Alas ! our satisfactions and
consolations do not satisfy the eyes of God, but only that
miserable love and care which we bestow auon ourselves,
in which God and consideration for Him nave no part.
Children certainly, whom our Lord points out to us as the
models of our perfection, have, generally speaking, none
of this solicituae, particularly in their parents' company ;
they cling to them, without turning round to contem-
plate their own satisfactions or cc r.solations, which they
enjoy, it is true, but in all simplicity, and without cu-
riously considering their causes and effects ; love being
sufficient occupation to them, and allowing them to do
nothing else. He who is very attentive lovingly to

1>lea8e the heavenly Lover, has neither the heart nor the
eisure to contempkte himself, his mind continually tun-
ing in the direction in which love impels him. He did not
approve of minds which were given to too much reflec-
tion, making a hundred considerations upon trifling mat-
6en. They resemble, he said, silkworms, wl^ch im*

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prison and entangle themselTfls in their own work. Himi
perpetual reflections upon self and our own actions take
up a great deal of time, which might he more profitahly
employed than ir lookmg so constantly at what we are
ahout By dint of looldng to see if we are doing things
well, we do them iU. Each occupation has its appro-
priate time; there is a time for action^ and a tune for
reflecting on our actions. The painter does not stop at
every stroke of his brush to judge of his work, but only
at intervals.

« Our Saint was so great a friend to unity, that all
multiplicity was, if not disaffreeaUe to him, at any rate
suspicious. He approved mghly of the advice attri-
buted to St. Thomas, to make some one book our spe-
cial study, if we would study to advantage. Accord-
ingly, he applaudisd those who for their spiritual guid-
ance attached themselves to some one book of devotioi^
such as Hie Spiritual Oonibat, his own &vourite book;
J%e Method of Servitw Oodf which with his sanction
I*chose for myself; !^ Follomng of Jems Chriii,
Louis of Grenada's Ouide, or his Memorial, and suohf
like ; not that he would set aside oliiers, but he wished
them to come in as accessories, and as it were com-
mentaries on the cldef book. He was of the same opinion
with respect to spiritual exercises. He wished penoos
to choose one of these exercises for more frequent nrao-
tice ; either the pnHsence of Qod, which he spedalfy ra-
commended ; or purity of intention, which he much
approved ; or subxaission to the will of God, which he
highly esteemed ; or self-abandonment into God's handa,
and self-renuDciati3n, which he valued much, as in-
cluding generally ell Christian perfection. In like man-
ner he would hav3 us choose some particular virtue^
as humility, gentle aess. patience, moitifioation, prayer^
mercy, and such-lilce, for special practice : just as reli-
gious institutes, which cultivate some nistingnishing
virtue, which constitutes their spirit, without neglectin|r
the others. Upon this principle he did not augur weu
of those persons whom he saw fluttermg from one

IT. FRANOM »■ lALBA

mu to aoother, from one book to another, from one nrac-
tice to another ; oompflring them to drones, who al^lit
on evrry flower without extracting honey from any;
ever learning, without ever attaining to the true soienoc
of saints ; always gathering, collecting, and heaping up^
without becoming rich, because they put every uiin^
iato a bag with a hole in it, and dig cisterns for them*
■elves wmch will not hold water; restless spirits, who,
■eeking peace in spiritual riches, find it not, — ^like per-
■ons smitten with the malady of jealousy, to wnon
every thing furnishes materials for its maintenance, and
nothing gives relief. With referance to t1:<-< subject of
multiplicity, he told me he preferred one pjaoulatory
prayer or aspiration repeated a hundred times to a hun-
dred ejaculations each said once, alleging the example
of the saints ; as St. Francis, who sometimes passed
whole days and weeks in repeating * My God is my All /
and St. Bruno, '0 Goodness!' and St. Teresa, 'AB
that is not God is nothing.' And he added, that th^
longer a bee tairies on a flower, the more honey it eA
tracts."

With regard to dryness and aridity in prayer, the
Saint's opinions are recorded several times by M. de
Belley : " ' We always love,' he said, * the sweetness
and delightful suavity of consolations ; neverthel'^ss, the
rigour of aridities is more rich in fruit ; and though St.
Peter loved the mountain of Thabor, and fled from that
of Calvary, the latter nevertheless is the most profitable,
and the blood shed upon the one is more desirable tlum
the brightness which environs the other. It is better
to eat bread without sugar, than su^ without bread.
Blessed is that soul which remains faithful in the midst
of drynesses and deprivation of all sensible consolations.
They form the crucible in which the pure gold of charity
is perfectly refined. Happy he who bears this trial
witn patience ; for having oeen tried and purified io
this manner, he shall receive the c^ own whicn God has
nroQiised to those whom He loves and who love Hhn.
When God,' he said, * depriTes xm sometimeB of thos*

236

hi .

•T. nUNOIt DB lAUi.

omw)latieiu, and of the leiue of W» prutaoa^ it ii u
order that our heart shoiild oleare to nothing eenaiblei
bat to Him only and His rood pleamre ; as He dealt
frith her who desired to embrace and olincr to His feet,
sending her elsewhere with these words, Ihueh me not ;
hut go tell my hrethrenj &o. Jacob certainl^f was able
:o take oft' the skin with which his mother had covered
his neck and hands, because it did not adhere to him ; bat
if any one had endeavoured to tear off Esau's, it would
have been very painful, and would have made him cry
nut. So also when we cry out upon God's withdrawing
sensible consolations, it is a sign that they clave to oar
heart, or that our heart was attached to them ; but when
we bear this privation without complaining, it is a very
evident mark that God alone is the oortion of our hearti
and that the creature does not ^lare it with Him.
Blessed is the soul of which QoA only ia the lord
the possessor."

. > »

■ :i

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nu BAxar's lovb ov his ■rbmibii.— PAnrnai ii»

** A friend of his having confessed to hmi that ha
found no duty of Christianity so difficult to practisd
as that of the love of enemies, ' As for me,' he said, * 1
don't know how my heart is constituted, or if it has
pleased God to make me an altogether new one, bat I
not only experience no difficulty in compljring with thia
command, out I have such a pleasure m it, and feel so
delightful and peculiar a sw\3etness in it, that if God
had forbidden me to love them, I should find it Teiy
uard to obey Him/

*^ Having received a notable insult from in in-
dividual, aua having endeavoured to appease him by
urging several good reasons with incomparable twee6-
uess, he concluded bv 8a3rii'g, * After all, I would lutve
voa to know, that it ^ou had put out one of my eyes,
J would look at you with the other as affectionately ai
if y<m were the best friend I possessed.' 'ShikUwaiioft

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me not;
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it would
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•T. FmANcn &■ lALia.

880

bear/ he would say, 'with those whom Grod Himsel
bean, having before our ejes that n*eat example, Jesu
Christ, praymg on the cross for His enemies? Whc
would not love him. this dear enemy for whom Jesua
Christ prayed, and lor whom He died 1'

** People would occasionally come and tell him tha
he was evil spoken of by some persons who asseited
strange things of him. Instead of excusing and de*
fending himself, he would reply with sweetness, * h
that all they say? really, they don't know all.
Iliej flatter me, they spare me, I see they have more
pity for me than enyy, and wish me to be better than
I am. Well, God be praised ! I must correct myself;
if I do not deserve blame in this matter, I deserve it in
some other ; it is any how treating cie with mercy to
be so lenient of censure.' If some one undertook his

{'ustification, and said the accusation was false, ' Well,'
le would reply, ' it is a warning to me to take care not
to make it true. Is it not a tavour to caution me to
turn aside from this pitfall ? But who has ever told
us that we were irreprehensible ? Perhaps they discern
my faults better than I do myself, or tiiose who love
me. We often call truths evil-speaking when they are
distasteful to us. What harm do people do us by
having an ill opinion of us ? Ought we not to think ill
of oui'selves ? Such persons are not our adversariev
but our partisans, for they join with us to work tb i
destructiou of our self-love. Why be angry with thofte
who come to our aid against so powerful an enemy V
It was thus he made light of calumnies and insmts,
considering that silence and modesty were qmte suffi-
cient defence, without calling patience to our support
against such a trifle.

'' Among the virtues, he highly esteemed that which
makes us bear with sweetness the imporamity cf our
aeighbour. * A little gentleness, moderation, and mo-
desty,' he said, * are simicient for this purpose. People
talk as if patience was to be exercised oxuy in beanng
toM afflictions which reflect oredli^ on ii« However

<Lt::^'W1^'^

h !

•! I

^M^frs'

240 IT. FBANOIS »■ lALMb

while awaiting these great and signal occaaionfy wWa
ooiB* but seldom during our life, we neglect the leawr;
and so far from making any account of beanng with
our neighbour's importunity, we, on the contrary, ridcos
those persons as weak who put up with them. We
imagine that our patience is equal to the enduranoe of
great su£ferings and signal insults, and we give way to
impatience at the mot ) trifling annoyance. It seems
to us as if we could ase st, serve, and relieve our neigh-
bour in great and pro onged illness, — and we eannot
bear with his tiresome immours, his want of polish, hii
incivility, but above all with his importunities, when he
* comes unreasonably and unseasonably to take «p our
time with what appear to us trifling and fri rolons mat-
ters. To excuse our imp'-'ieLee we t*'im phantly allege
the value of time, of whioii an ancient winter hae said
that it is praiseworthy to be avaricious ; and we fiful to
observe that we ourselves consume it in so many vainer
ways than in bearing with our neighbour, and possitdy
in things which are m themselves less important than
those he would occupy us with, and which we call loei
of time. When conversing with our neighbour, we
ouffht to take pleasure in it, and show that we do so;
and when we are alone we must take pleasure in soli-
tude. But the misfortune is, that our minds are so
restless, that we are always looking behind us ; in com-
pany longing for solitude, and in solitude, instead of en-
joying its sweetness, desuring conversation. We ought
to have a more even and reasonable temper of mind,
and in the time allotted to recreation love recreation ;
and in like manner love reading, prayer, and work at
the tunes appropriated to them, as weu as silence whm
commandea by the rule and by obedience. Thus we
may say with the prophet, Innll bless the Lord at aU
tmeSt j3Rs praise shall he ever m mv mouthy for it
js to bless and praise the Lord at all times, to refer
to His glory all our actions, whether good or iadif*
farent."'

Wo have already seen St. iVandf «ihibitiiig thii

•T. FRANCIS DB 8ALBI.

341

W«

118 W6

ataU

for it

rafer

uubf*

thii

rHne ji a fltriking maimer in bia own nraotioe. Haft
ia a fvrther instance recorded by M. de Bellej :

" During^ the last visit he made to Parif, whara he
remained about eight months, he was in such request
on all sides, that he had to preach almost ereir aay ;
this brought on an illness, which, though or short
duration, was very dangerous. Some of hia friends^
anxious for his health, warned him that he was undei^
taking too much for his strength ; to which he made
answer, that they whose office constituted them the
lights of the world, ought, like torches, to consume
themselves in order to illuminate others. Bot^ not
satisfied with this, they added, that i^ renderea tiic
word of (lod less precious in his mouth, the worid only
valuino: what is rare ; every one runs to look at thi^
moon, but no one gets up earlier to see the sun rise, aiid

word I announce, teaching me that we are debtora to
ail men, and that we must not only lend but giTe our*
selves to all who ask for us, and that true charity nei>
ther seeks nor consults its own interests but those oa
Ood and its neighbour, how could I bring myself to
disappoint and send away such as ask for me? Not
to speak of the rudeness, it appears to me that it would
be a great defect of fraternal love. How far removeo
are we still from the class of thosA two great sainta,
one of whom was willing tx) be blct''i'<t out of the bools
of life for his brethren, and the other to be anathema
and separated from Jesus Christ, which oomee to the
same tning I'

** On one occasion he was asked to preach on a
festival ; he immediately acquiesced ; and upon one of
his servants reminding him that some days {vevioiuly
he had promised to preach elsewhere the same day.
^ Never mind,' he said ; ^ Ood will give us the grace to
multiply our bread. He is rich in mercy to moh aa
call upon Hinu* '' M. de Belley adda that, ** Baiag

*..:;

*i2

fT. F1UNOI0 DM 8ALBS.

,<*, ,

W t

;«'*,

J»

,4H

1 ill

•flailed with entreaties to consider his heal^, he eat
the matter short hy saying, * I assure you, that if I had
hoen asked for a tnird sermon the same day, I should
hnve less trouhle of mind and hody in delivering them
all, than in refusing. Must we not consume ourselves,
hody and soul, for this dear neighhour whom our Lord
so loved as to die of love for him V "

M. de Belley tells us that he practised literally,
both in temporal and spiritual things, the Gk>spel in-
junction to give to whoever asks of us, and assures us,
from his own experience, that he never made a just re-
quest of him hut he granted it, or gave him a refusal
more just than his request, and more just even accord-
ing to his own judgment ; his re^als, moreover, being
seasoned with so much graciousness that they were
infinitely more pleasing than the favours of many who
grant them so ungraciously as to make them no favours
at all. " And I never heard,'' he continues, ** of hii
having ever refused any reasonahle service which wti
requested of him.'*

The accessible disposition of this sweetest of sainti
encouraged numbers of women to have recourse to hii
spiritual advice, and to seek his direction. This was
made matter of reproach to him, and the Bishop of
Belley relates how some one abruptly taxed him, ona
dav, with being constantljr surrounded, by them. " The
Samt gently reminded mm that so it was with our
Lord, and tnat many murmured at it. ' But,' resumed
his assailant, who had made this remark rather lightly,
' I really don't know what amusement they find in it|
for I do not perceive that you keep the conversation up
very briskly, or that you say any great matter to them.
And do you reckon for nothing,' replied the Saint,
letting them have their say ? They most certainly want
ears to listen to them, more than tongues to reply. They
talk enough for themselves and for me too; postibh
it is this readiness to listen to them which forms thav
attraction, for there is nothing a lo()uacious person likM
•0 much as a quiet and patient listener.' The other,

Ii, he cot
tiflhad
I shonld
mg them
ourselveiL
our Lord

literally,
lospel in-
ssures ns,
ajust re-

a refusal
)ii accord-
Yer, being
ihey were
nany who
Qorayonn
), «of hif
irhich waf

e of saint!
iirsetohis

This was
Binhop of

him, one
m. "The

with our
* resumed
er lightly,
find in it,
ffsationup
r to them,
the Sainty
ainlywant
ply. They

J posnblt
orms their
ersonlikMi
rhe othar,

fT. fBlNOIS DB aiLlt.

wntmuing t&e same freedom of ohserratioii, said thai
he had watched his confessional, and had tdran notice
that for one man there were crowds of women who be-
sieged it. 'What wonder?' he replied; 'this sex is
more disposed to piety ; this is why the Church applies
to it the epithet of aevout. Would to God that men,
who commit much worse sins, had as much inclination
for penance !' The other, getting bolder eyenr minute^
now asked him if more women were sayed than men.
' Seriously speaking,' »ud the Saint, 'it is not for us te
pry into the secrets of God, or to be His counsellors ;*
and Jby this answer he cut short the conyersation."

Tnat he, neyertheless, well knew how to unite dr-
cumspeotion with kindness, is thus exemplified :

" There was a prelate who would not permit any
woman, no matter who she might be, to enter hit
house, grounding his conduct upon the example and
counsel of St. Augustine. He had accordingly caused
a kind of parlour to be constructed, with a species ot
grillef in a chapel, where he spoke tr them. Tne &unt,
who loved this prelate, without blaming this seyerity,
limited himself to laughing pleasantly at it, saying, that
this bishop was only half a pastor, since he separated
himself thus from tne moiety of his flock. Upon the
complaints which were macfe to him on the subject,
he promised to speak to the prelate. The bishop, m
his defence, allegeu uis age (for he was still young), his
fear of cidumnious tongues and of the snare into which
such conversation led, the advice of the ancient fathers*
the good example thus held out to other ecclesiastics,
and many sucn-like reasons. Our Saint praised hit
zefd and caution, but observed that, without practising
this external severity, there was «a easier, surer, ana
less inconvenient means, and one less subject to censure
or interference. 'Never speak to women,' he said,
' but in the presence of otners ; and charge your at
lendants never to lose sight of you when you have to
eonfer with them. I do not mean that it is neoesMiy
they ahould inytrifUy hear what you say; for thai

ftu'

Sr''

f'iil ^

MIV

!!'*.»'' 1

LJ ,.

I I

«44

•T. FRAVOIl DB lALI

vould not be always expedient, as these mttton oftflB
regard the conscience ; out let them be within sights
and witnesses of your behaviour; and if you will com-
miesion one of your chaplains^ the same to whom you
commit the charffe of your interior, to admonish you
concerning your deportment and actions, believe me that
tliis will be worth all the grating in the world, were it
«ven of iron and bristling with spikes.' Now the advice
he gave was what he himself practised ; for though hia
house was open to every one, he never spoke to women,
wherever he might be, without being attentively watched.
He gave another piece of advice touching letters. ' Do
not write to women,' he said, ^except in answer to
iheir letters, imless there be some ui^ent necessity ; but
never of your own accord, save in the case of indi-
viduals beyond suspicion, such as a mother, a sister, or
a very old person ; and let your letters even then be
only occasional and brief "

The needy never applied to him in vain, and hia
purse, poorly furnished as it ever was, never closed at
the voice of the suppliant We have a specimen here
of his readiness to give, and his unwillingness to refuse
even those whom some might have considered little
worthy of his liberality :

" A person made bold to hee him to lend him
twelve crowns, and insisted on giving him a written
promise of payment, in spite of the Sainfs disinclination,
who not only did not require it but objected to having
it, and this promif/j Inr the borrower's own desire was
hmited to the term of a month. The month was pro-
longed to a year, at the end of which time the person
returned, and without alluding to the twelve orowng
o.lready lent, asked for ten. The Saint, begging him to
wait in the reception-room, went to fetch the written
engagement, and rejoining him, said, ' You beg me to
lend you only ten crowns, here are twelve, whion I wil-
lingly give you ;' so saying, he returned him his jvomiie.

** Another begged to borrow twenty crowns, «m1
to give bis written acknowledgment. TlnCya^

•T. FRAifOIS DB 8ALBI.

941

oftflB

8ight>
I com-
n you
h you
lethat
rere it
adyice
ighhis
Tomea,
Itched.
. 'Do
wrer to
y; but
f indi-
ster, or
ihen M

id him
Iwritten
lation,
having
lire was
pro-
poreoo
IcrowDfl
Ihim to
ritten
me to
Iwil-
)miie.
nd

ted not always so larse a sum at his disposal ; nerer-
theiess, he had so kind a heart, that he would have cut
himself into pieces for his neighbour. He bethought him-
self^ therefore, of a device which woiild relieve the peti-
tioner, and yet render his liberality proportionate to his
means. He went to look for ten crowns, and returning,
■aid, * I have hit upon an expedient which will make us
both gain ten crowns to-day, if you will only beheve
me.' ' How is that to be done, Monseigneur V asked the
man. * We have only,* he replied, * you and I, both of
us, to open our hands. Here are ten crowns, which I
give you as a ipure donation, instead of lending you
twenty; you gain those ten, and as for me^ [ shall
reckon the other ten as good as gained if you will ex-
cuse me from lending you them.'

** Condescension to the humours of others, and the
Fweet but most reasonable endurance of oiu* neighbour,
were his cherished and special vutues ; and he was con-
stantly recommending tnem to his dear children. He
ok^en said to me, ' how much shorter work it is to
accommodate ourselve«i to others, than to wish to bend
svery one to our own humours and opinions! The
human mind is a true mirror, which easUy assumes all
the colours presented to it ; the important point is, that
we should not resemble the cameleon, wmch is sus-
ceptible of all except white ; for a condescension which
is not accompaniea by candour and purity is a danger-
ous condescension^ and cannot be too diligently shunned.
We must condescend in every thinK^ even to the very
tltar, that is, up to the point where God is not offended :
here are the limits of true condescension.'

** Never did he utter a word of menace, or use an
annry expression to his servants ; and when they were
gmlty of faults, he seasoned his reproofs with so muci.
sweetness, that they corrected themselves from love,
without dreading a rod of iron, which they knew well
he had not in. his hand. One day, conversing with him
about the manner in which servan ts ought to oe treated,
tad observing that familiarity was i^t to breed

n i '1

,it

\t^^

' ' '(

M
i|

r, (I

y^'m

'l^

ffli

946

■T. FRANCIS D£ lALBl.

teni])t, 'Yes,' he said, 'tmbecominf^, ooane» and reprs-
hensible familiarity, but never that which is civil, cor*
dial, proper, and virtuous ; for as it proceeds from love,
love produces its like ; and true love is never without
esteem, and conseqr ntly without respect for the person
loved, seeing that our love is, in fact, founded npon the
esteem in which we bold him.* *But,' said I, 'we

must then give up every thing to them, and let them
do 8 J they like. ^No; I only say that if charily
reign • in our hearts, she will know ho (7 to allot therr
prop'T parts to discretion, prudence, justice, moderation,
magnanimity, as well as to humility, abjection, pa-
tience, endiirance, and gentleness. With regard to
servants, I must say, after all, they are our neighbour!
and lowly brethren, whom charity obUges us to love aa
ourselves; let us then love them as we do ourselves,
these dear neighbours who are so near to us and so truly
o'lr neighbours, and who live under the same roof wif j
vs and eat of our bread ; and let us treat them as our-
elves, or mtber as we should wish to be treated if we
irere in their place and condition ; this is the best way
jO behave to servants. It is true, we must, not overlook
their faults when they are considerable, nor spare to
correct them ; but we must at the same time recognise
the service they ren^'er us ; and it is w?ll occasionally
to testify our satisfaction with it, and our confidence
in them, and to show tLem that we account them as
orethren, or as iiiends, whose necessities we wish to re-
lieve, and whose welfare we desire to promote. As a
puff of wind in the sails of a galley out at sea fetches
t on more than a hundred strokes of the oar, so alsc
re must admit that a friendly word and a token ol
indness will get more service out of a servant than a
iindred grave, threatening, aud severe injunctions.'

Accoi'ding to his great maxim of asking fornothing
Jid refusing nothing, he was in the habit of not deolin-
og little presents which the poor people would bring:
aim even on occasions of the administration of the saora>
ODABts. It was quite edifying at sach times to obaarrf

ST. FRAN0I8 BE SALBi.

947

d wpn-
m\f cor-
ona loTe,
without
le person
•xpon the
L I, we
let them
f charitj
Hot the»
deration,
ition, pa-
egard to
nghboun
to love at
ourselves, '^■
i so truly
roof wit .1
n as our-
kted if we
bestwat
', overlook

spare to
recognise
casionally
;onfidence
; them as
rish tore-
te. As a
ea fetches
ir, so alsc

token ol
nt than a
Btions.'
or nothing
lot deolin-
>ttld bring

thesacra-
toobierrf

(lie countetiaiice dad kindness with which he would
accept a handful of nuts, chestnuts, or apples, or littl#
cheeses or eggs, which children or poor people would
offer him. Others would give him pence or mrthinn)
which he would Accept, humbly thanldng them. Ha
would receive even three or four pence (half-pence,
English) sent Him from some villajge for masses, which
be would be most punctual in offering. The money
which was given him, he distributed to the poor, whom
he met coming out of church ; but the eatables he re-
ceived he earned away in his rochet or in his pockets,
setting them on some little platters in his room, or hand-
ing them over to his stewaid, and directing him to
serve them up at table; saying sometimes, Laboret
manuum tuarum quia manducaois; beatus es, et bene
tibi erit*

He had a special regard for innkeepers who receive
ti'avellers ; and if they were but civil and obliging, he
reckoned them quite saints. He said that he saw no
condition in life which furnished greater means of serv-
ing God in our neighbour and advancing heavenward,
because it keeps a man continually engagud in works
of mercy, although, like the physician, ne receives his
salary. On one occasion, as he was entertaining us
after dinner liy way of recreation with aj^eeable topics,
the conversation having turned upon innkeepers, an*
each having given his opinion freely on the subject, oik
of the party put forward the proposition, that inns were
regular places of pillage. Tne Saint was not pleased
with tliis observation ; but as it was neither the time
nor the place for administering a reproof, — and, more-
3ver, the person in question would not have received it
irell, — he reserved it possibly for a more favourable op-
portunity, and turned off the conversation by relating
.0 us the foUowmg anecdote : * A Spanish pilgrim^' m
Mid, ' with a purse not overloaded, arrived at an imii

* ** F jr thou ahalt eAt the labonrs of thy handi t UMStd iff
loi, tod it «baU bo woU with the*." Ffe. oxxriL fl.

U!.J

■i^

^!i I;;

ST. PRANCIt DB SALMb

where, having' fared but ill, he had to pay w> highlj fti
the Uttle he had had, that he called heaven and eartb
to vritness that he was imposed upon. Tltara wm
nothing lor it, however, but to pay; and, heiin^ th«
weakest, he was obhg^ed, into the bargain, to siiig gruiiU.
He issued fi*om the inn in a great state of indiaiaatiov',
like a man who has liad his pockets picked. J his iim
stood where two ways met, and with another house of
enteitainment facing it, a cross ptimding in the centre.
This suggested to him ai\ idea wlierewithal to relieve
his vexation. " Truly," lie exclaimed, " tliis place is a
Calvary, where our Lord Las beei). crucified between
two thifives," meaniug the landlords of the two inna.
The master of tlia house at which he had not lotted,
happeii :1 to be standir,^ at his door, and, excusing liim
in consideiiitii};' of his distress, quietly asked him what
wrong he LnA done him, that he should apply such an
epithet to h<uv. Tie pilgrim, whose capacity was not
limiU-d to the use of his staff, answered quickly, * Have
done, brother, have done ; you shall be the good one/
in allusion to there being a good and a bad thief, one
m each side of our Lord. " I reckon you the jgood one,
for you have done me no wrong ; but what woidd yon
have me call your neighbour, who has skinned me
alive V* * After relatin&f this storVi he took occasion to
say gently that this poor pil^dm f&ished his outbreak of
anger with this civil turn : but that we must neverthe-
less avoid, as a general rule, passmg a sweeping censure
upon nations or professions, calling them n^cals, in-
solent fellows, or traitors ; for although we might have
no one in particular in our eye, stul the individuali
belonging to those nations or professions felt themeelvea
implicated in such blame, and did not like being treated
m that manner.

" Our Saint, I must tell you, was so partial to inn-
keepers, that, when on a journey, he very expressly
forbade his attendants to bargain with them about the
price of any thing, and would have them put up with
any injustice rather than give them offence; woawhrn

ST. FHAirOIf DB lALI

24»

kighljfei
ind eaiib

hare WM
borng" tha

j'bis ikm
liouse of
le centra,
to i^Iieye
place is a
batween
Iwo ixmtL
t locked,
isingliiin
lim what
' such an
' was not
Yf * Have
ood one,*
thief, one
;(X)d one,
ould you
oned mo
cfision to
threakof
leverthe-
^censura
icalsy in-
rht have
lividuali
smselyef
;* treated

1 to inn-
xpresslj
!)out the
up with
miwImb

jafonned that they were auite unraasonabley ehaiging
double and treble the worth of things, he would reply,
* We must not look merely to that ; what account are
you taking of their attention, their trouble, their loss
of rest, and obliging behaviour ? We certomly cannot
pay too highly for all that.' The result of this kind-
ness of our Saint, combined with the universal reputa-
tion of hin piety, was, that the innkeepers who Knew
him would very commonly make no chai^ at all,
leaving their remuneration to his discretion, which
almost always awarded them more than they would
nave asked.

** The saintly prelate had such a tender love for the
poor, that in this respect alone did he appear to make
some distinction of persons, preferring them to the rich,
whether in spiritual or corporal matters, acting like
physicians who hasten to attend those who need it
most. One day I was waiting with many others for
my turn, while he was hearing the confession of a poor
blind old woman who begged her bread from door to
door, and as I expressed my surprise afterwards at the
length of time she had detained him, he said, 'She seei
the things of God more clearly than many who enjoy
good eye-sight.' Another day I was boating with him
on the lake at Annecy, and the rowers called him Father,
and conversed famiharly with him. * Do you see these
good people,' he observed to me, * they call me Father,
and they truly love me as such; how much bettw
do they please me than those compUment-pay^rs who
call me Monseigneur !'

'' He suffered the pains of sickness with a patienot
accompamed with so much love and sweetness, that the
slightest complaint was never heard to escape his lips,
nor the smallest desire which was not conformable to
the divine will. He never expressed the least regret
for the services which he might have rendered to God
and his neighbour had he been in health. He was
willing to suffer because such was. Gk)d's good i^iU.
< He biowi better/ ha would say, * than I do wb^it mtp

260

•T. FBAHOII DV SAtlti

let US not interfere with Him; it ii the Lord, lei
Him do what seems good in His eyes. Lord, Thy
will be done, not mine. Eyen so, neayenly Father it
is my will since it seems good in Thine eyes. Yea^
Lord, I will it; may Thy law and Thy will be for eyei
engraven in my heart !' If he was asked whether he
would take some medicine, or some broth, or whether
he consented to be bled, he wonld make no other reply
than, ' Do what you will ?rith the sick man ; God nas
placed me in the hands of the physicians.' Neyer was
any thing like his simplicity and obedience, for he
honoured God m physicians, and knew that Gkxl has
given medicine its virtue, and commands us to honour
the physician, an honour which implies obedience. He
stated his malady without exaggerating it by excessive
complaints, and without diminishing it by dissimulation
The first he reckoned to be cowarcuce ; the second, du
plicity. When the inferior pert was under the pressure
of acute pain, one might read m the expression of his
countenance, and above all of his eyes, we serenity a
the superior region, which shone through the donds oi
suffering which oppressed his bcdy.

<' The Saint being at Paris in the year 1619, a
nobleman of distinction who had accompanied the princes
of Savoy on their visit to that city, fell so dangerously
ill, that the physicians did not think he could recover.
The nobleman m this state desired to be assisted by our
Saint ; he bore the pains of bin illness with considerable
fortitude, but his mird was disturbed about matters oi
trivial importancr.. Upon which the Saint said to me,
' how aeplo. able is numan weakness ! tiiis man has
the reputation if a great soldier i md statesman, aui is
reckoned to pMssess an excellent judgment ; yet yon
see with what trifles his mind is engrossed. He did
not lament sc much being ill and ^bout to die, as the
being ill and djring away from his country and home.
He deplored the loss of his wife's regrets and assiit
•noe, and the absence of his childrai, on whom ha
hftvo bettowed his Uesiinir. BomafcimM kt

fT. FBANOIS DB MALWM,

861

le Lord. lei

LordyTh?

Father, it
>yes. Yea^
oe for erer
Krhether he
or whether
other replj

: Oodnai
Never was
ice, for ha
tt Qod hai

to hononr
ience. He
jrexoessiye
Bimnlatioii
eoond, da
le pressure
eion of Ids
serenity a
9 doads ox

r 1619, a

the princes
ingaronslj
Id reoorer.
ted by our
•nsiderable
matters oi
ud to me,
I man has
an,aai is
I yet yon
He did
lie, as the
md hoBiA.
nd assist
whom ha

dmgt for his ordinary physician, who nnderstood h*
constitution from attendance on hun for so many yearn.
At other times he particularly enjoined, malunff it
his earnest request, uiat he should not be buried at
Paris, but that his body should be taken back to his
own country, to be laid m tho sepulchre of his ancestors.
Then again he gave directions about his epitaph, about
the arrangements for his removal, and the ceremony of
his fimerfu. He complained of the air of Paris, ox the
water, of his medicines, of the physicians, surgeons, and
apothecaries, of his servants, of his lodging, of his room,
of his bed, of every thing. In short, he could not die
in peace because he was not dying in the place where
he wished to die. When he was told that he had every
possible assistance he could desire both for body and
soul, that those whose absence he regretted would but
lave added to his grief by their presence, — to every
topic of consolation proposed he had admirable answers
ready whereby to aggravate his sufferings and add
poignancy to his sorrow, such ingenuity dia he display
m tormenting himself. He expired at last, fortifiea by
ihe sacraments and tolerably resigned to the will of
Ood.* The Saint made this comment to me, * It is not
sufficient to will what God wills; we must will it in
the manner He wills, and in every one cf its circum-
stances. For instance, ^vhen ill, we must will to be so
since such is God's pleasure, tmd we must will to suffer
tais particular complaint pjid not another, in this special
place, and &* this time, as well as among such persons
as it shall please God. In fine, our law in every thing
must be the most holy will of God. Such is the lesson
I learnt on this occasion.'

'' Our Saint was in the habit of sayixig that the
meanest of all temptations was the temptation to dis-
couragement. When the enemy has made us lose all
heart for our progress in virtue, he makes cheap work
of us, and soon pushes us to the precipice of siiL To
correct this fault, the Saint said one aaj to some od&
*Ue patient with all, but specially with yonnelf; I

IT. FRANCIS DB BALBt.

m M

111: I

mean that jou ooght never to be disturbed at your t
perfections, and must always arise again with renewed
courage. Tliere is no better way of accomplishinff the
spiritual life than always beginning fu;;ain, never think-
ing we have done enough. And in root, how shall we
ever bear with patience our neighbours' defects, if we
are impatient with our own? How shall we be abl#
to reprove others in a spirit of sweetness, if we correct
ourselves with spite, snarpnets, and iU- temper. R*
who is disquieted at the oight of his own imperfections
will never correct himself; for correction, to be profit-
able, must proceed fKm a tranquil and sedate spirit.'

" Common minds/' observes M. de Belley in an-
other place, ** live well when all goes according to theii
wishes ; but true virtue shows itself in the midst oi
contradictions. The more contradictions our Saint met
with, the greater was his tranquillity, and, like the
palm-tree, the more he was beaten by the winds, the
deeper he struck his roots. Here are his own expressions
on the subject : ' For some time past, frill of oppositions
and contradictious which have come to break in upon
my tranquillity, I have seemed to derive from thorn a
sweet and dehghtful peace, which nothing can surpass,
and I see in this a presage of the approaching establish-
ment of my soul in its God, which is truly not merely
the great, out the only ambition and passionate desire
of my heart' "

TBI SAIHT'S DBTAOHIOHT VBOM >A>nU.T THnOS, AMD KB
LOVK OV POVBBTT.

''There are earthly desires and heavenly desires.
Of these last we cannot have too great abnndanoe;
they are so many wings which raise us to God ; they
are those wings of the dove which the prophet asked
of God, to fly after eternal rest. For the otoers, whioL
rmrd only temporary and perishable thingVy and
vmeh Ind ns to earthy we eannot hava too wir. 6i

tT. FRANCIS DE tALlt.

A.ng?istme calls them tha f^lue of the spiritnal winn
From these sort of desires our Saint was exoeedingl^
free. Here are his own words : * I wish for very hme,
and what I wisli for I wish very Kttle. I have soarcelj
any desires ; and if I had to heg'iu life aprain, I should
wish to have none. Earth, indeed, ie of little value,
rather I sliould say of none, to hun who aspires to
heaven, and time hut a shadow to him who is tending
to eternity.'

" Som*' one speakinc', one day, in presence of our
Saint, of a |)relate of higTi rank in the Church, said
that he wns settinp^ all his sails to reach the dignity oi
cardinal, and that his absence was the cause of soma
confusion in his diocese. ' Would to God he were a
cardinal already !' said the Saint. I asked him why
' Because,' he rej)lied, ' he would then think of some*
thing better.' * What !' I exclaimed, *of becoming
Pope next? And who is to absolve him from such a
Mn as that ?' * That is not what I mean, but the care
of souls, the art of arts, in the exercise of which we
can do the Lord the greatest service.' * But will not
this dignity,' J replied, * interfere with his attention to
it V * It need not,' he rejoined ; * since in our days St.
Charles has so eminently succeeded ; but what I mean is,
tiiat, no longer having the pursuit of this honour in his
head, his heart would recal him, and he would bethinJc
himself of his pastoral obligations, which are of divine
rig) it, and would attend to them with undistracted atten-
tion, which would give great edification to the Church.' "

M. de Belley adds, that St. Francis's prcgnostio
prf)ved a true one. " Having attained wbBT> he least
expected it the coveted honour, this p) 'sla!© valued it
little, and recalling to mind the importasui^ of his epis-
copai duties, was about to return to devote himselt to
them, when God, accepting his good will, called him
from this world, afber he had enjoyed, with little satis-
fnction for six months, what he had sought and laboiured
for incessantly for thirty years."

St Francis, when free to choosey was astlanioap t»

I'r

<! !

>f '■■;

;i'::

ii :'

(3 i'','

i! ''

if 'I

• !'

ill

.ij'

'■ ': '■ ; ■. i

264

IT. FmAVOIl DB tALl

ffhun, as this prelate wai to leek, the chmgen and rs*
Bponsibiiitieci of exalted ftation. If he had rBtumed
from Lyons, where he died, we learn from M . de Bellej
t!iat he entertained the design of retiring into solitude,
and after employing so many years in the functions ol
Martha, giving up the rest of nis days to the TOcatioB
of Mary, resigning his bishopric to his brother, who
already acted as his coadjutor.

** 'When we are in our retreat,' he says, writing to
the prior of a monastery near his contemplated hermit-
age, * we will serve Qod with breviary, rosary, and pen.
who will give me the win^s of a dove to fly away tp
this sacred rest, and to breathe a little under the shadow
of the cross ! There shall I await the moment of my
change : Exjaectdho donee veniat mmutatw meaf*
** AIus !" adds M. de Belley, " God was preparing tor
him a far other rest, the fruit of his labours.

'" In the year 1619, when he visited Paris with thi
princes of Savoy, he made a stay of eight montiis^
during which time it is impossible to tell the amomA
of the services wliich, to the glory of God, he rendered
to souls. The sweetness of his character and conyersft-
duQ, which attracted every one like some heayenhr per*
fiime, so charmed the Cardinal de Rets (Ajchbisni^
of Paris), that he desired to make him his coadjutinr.
Not expecting any opposition from our Saint, he pr»-
disposea the king in favour of his project. But tiM
holy bishop knew how to divert this luow with suoh
consummate skill, that he left the cardinal, though di»>
appointed at his refusal, full of admiration of his ynrtoe.
He alleged various excuses for his declining the oSeri
among others the following, which pleases me mneh;
that he did not think he ought to change a pow wih
for a rich one ; and that if he left his wi£, it would not
be to take another, but to be without <nie, aoeordinff to
the counsel of the apostie, Art thou looted from ^f^*^
Biek not a wife^f adding, that having beitoirisd atfms

• ** I will Mcpcot ai|^ ny ehaace
t lOor.viLir

b** Jobshr.l4

[wv And r^
id f^Btarned
I. de Belley
ito solitude,
Amotions ot
bhe Tooation
rother, who

I, writing to
ited hermit-
rjy and pen.
fly away to
the shadow
ment of my
uHo mea.*
reparing tor
I.

Lfis with thi
^ht months^
the amouM
he rendered
idoonversa-
saTenhrper*
Arohbisnop
s ooadjntOT.
int, he pre-
;. But the
' with sueh
though die-
fhis Tirtue.
g the oiFer:

me mnoh;

apoor wife
t would not

»shr.l4

•T. FRAHOIB DB lALU. 361

iflbotionf upon his ohwoh, he oonld not oonoeiTe any
or another.

** His bishopric (as has been observed), owing; to the
iepredations of neresy, was extremely poor. To him this
was matter of rejoicing, and we find nim on one occasion
adroitly refusinjif a pension which the kin^ (Henry IV.)
nressea upon nu acceptance. An ecclesiastic, he was
n the haoit of saying (and St. Paul declares the same
of every Christian), who has food and raiment, and is
not satisfied therewith, does not deserve the name of
an ecclesiastic, nor to have God for the portion of his
faihei'itance and of his cup, ' My bishopric,' he said,
' is worth as much to me as the archbishopric of Toledo ;
for it is worth to me heaven or heU, even as that of
Toledo to its archbishop, acoordin^^ as we each of us
acquit ourselvec of our obugations. Oodlineu with con-
tentmetU it great gain.* My revenue suffices for my
necessities. Any thin? more would be too much. Those
who have more, only nave it tc keep a larger establish-
ment. Ihsj ihemselves, therefore, do not profit by it,
but their servants, who often eat without doing any
thing for the interests of our crucified Lord. HS who
has less, has less account to eive. He who has less
iuperfluity, has less to give, and less solicitude to reflect
to whom ne should give. For the King ofglory will
be served and honoured with judgment. Those who
have great revenues, sometimes spend so much that ihey
are as poor as I am by the end of the year, if they do
not run into debt into the bargain. If we desire only
what nature requires, we shall never be poor; if what
opinion requires, wo shall never be rich. To get rich
in a short time and with vei^ little trouble, we must
not heap up mone^, but dimmish cupidity, imitating
sculptors, wno perrorm their work by retrenchmff, and
not painters, wno execute theirs by adding, ne will
never have enough to whom enough suffices not' Above
all, he oould not oear to hear an ecclesiastic complaininff
of povorty ; ' for,* said h% * he entered into orden witS

• iTfaavLfb

f'r "i

.%ii

vl<]

I, ^-r;

'I'M

n ii

rj. '

IPi

ST. WMAVOU DB lALIf .

a Imiefioe, or with a patrimonial title sufficient for his
maintenance. Such being the case, what cause of com-
plaint has he ? If he produced a false title, or accepted
an insufficient benefice, what he ought to complain *o{
is his own deceit or imprudence, not his poverty. But
let him, after all, remember that when he received the
tonsure he declared, in presence of the Church tri-
umphant and militant, that God was tlie poition of his
inheritance ; and what can he want who nas God and
His providence for his portion ? What can suffice him
to wnom Qod is not sufficient ?'

''Although they of Geneva withheld from him
nearly all the revenue of his bishopric and that of his
chapter, I never heard him make any complaint; so
little were his affections fixed on earcoly thmgs, nay,
BO little attention did he pay them. He kniw how to
be satisfied with the slender remnant of his bishopric.
' Is not twelve hundred crowns of rent, after all, a good
deal V he would say. ' Are not these fine leavings ?
The apostles, who were much better bishops than we
are, had not so much. We are not worthy to serve God
at our own expense.* He longed only for the conversion
of these souls, rebellious to the light of truth which
shines only in the true Church. Sometimes, speaking
of his Genevu, his ' poor, dear Geneva,' as he always
called it, notwithstanding its rebellion, he would say,
sigUn?, 'Give me the persons, and take the rest.
Would to God we had lost the remainder, so as the
Catholic religion had as free an entrance into Geneva
as it has into La Rochelle, and that we had a little
chapel there' (this was many years before the capture
of tne latter place). This sweet hope he ever cherished
m his bosom, ' It would then soon make progress.'
Never were those words of the Psalm Super Jlvmina
Bcibylonia (By the waters of Babylon) sung m choir,
but his thoughts reverted to that unhappy city, the see
df the bishops his predecessors ; not that he desired to
be installed there in their pomp and wealth, for he
Iftaemed tha shame of the oroiw i|boTe i}ll the riches

IT. FRANCIS DB SALIS.

S57

at for biB
;e of com-
r accepted
implain of
rty. But
ceived the
hurch tri-
tion of his
i God and
suffice him

from him
that of his
iplaint; so
imgs, nay,
itw how to
s bishopric.
■ all, a good
3 leavings?
)s than we
serve GU)d
conversion
ruth which
i, speaking
he always
«\rould say,
the rest.
80 as the
ito (Jenevt
ad a little
he capture
• cherished
progress.*
erjlvmina
T m choir.
ity, the see
desired to
ith, for he
the richet

•f Egypt, but because he was touched with inward
grief of heart for the loss of so many souls. When ha
aaid bis office in private, and recited this same Psalm
with bis chaplain, tears flowed from his eyes.

** I was wondering, one day, how he could support
his bouse with so slender a revenue. ' It is God,^ he
said, 'who multiplies the five loaves.' Pressing him
to explain to me bow this took place, ' It wouldHbe no
miracle,' he replied very sweetly. ' if I could explain
it. Are not we in a blessed condition to live thus by
miracle ? It is the mercies of the Lord that we are not
consumed.**

** One day be said to me, showing me a coat which
had been made for him, and which be wore under his
cassock, ' My people work little miracles, for out of an
old coat they nave made me Quite a new one; havfl
not they made a smart one V ' T\us miracle,' I replied,
' seems an improvement upon that which the children
of Israel experienced, whose clothes did not wear out
during the forty years they abode in the desert; foi
here we have old ones made new again.'

" He said that the covetousness of the eyes had
this evil in it, that it never looked below itself, but
always above ; and so those who were infected with it
never enjoyed any peace or solid content. The moment
a man desires to be greater or richer than he is, the
digni^ and jpropertT be possesses seems as nothing to
him ; and when he has attained the object of his wishes,
bis appetite is sharpened by indulgence, and his mental
dropsy makes him increase his thirst by drinking ; so
that be is constantly moving on without ever reaching
tbo goal, death coming sooner than the accomplishment
of Lis ambition and bis hopes. The Saint baa not only
set bounds to bis desires, but either he had no desir*
for exaltation, or he looked upon bis station as much
above bis desires. He often marvelled (such was hi*
humility) that God should have permitted him to be
niitd to the dignity he held, setting so high a vilie

• Li»i.iii.flt

.■\ •

ST. FRAN0I8 DB tALBS.

on it that he trembled when he reflected upon the W-
den which had been laid upon him. As he entertained
a ffreat esteem for his neighbour, he wondered at be-
hwdiag himself placed as superior aver persons i^om
he beheved to be better fitted and more worthy thaa
himselt"

THB 8Anrr*s pibtt avd spboial DBTonoirai

'* It was a saying of the Saint, ' We must never
calk of God nor of the things which concern His ser^
rice, — ^ihat is, of region, — at random, and by way of a
topic, and to make conversation, but always with deep
respect high esteem, and genuine feelmr.' Again,
Speak always of God as God, that is, wita reverence
ana piety ; not to give yourself importance or to set
yourself up to preach, but in a spuit of sweetness, cha*
rity, and oumuity.' The first piece of advice is ad-
iressed to those who speak of religious matters as of
any other subject of conversation, without regard to
time, place, or persous, and with nc other object than to
talk and pass away time ; a wretched abuse, of which
fit Jerome complains in his dav, saying, that all the
arts ant' sciences had their aaepts, to whom alone
it apper^amea w spean w:l> > authority about them ; it
was oniT Holy Smpt/ore ana 'heology, which is the
root of Msienoe, w^ioh were so unwoiitiily treated|, that
you heard people ac table deciding quesQou» relating
to them, and tnat not; oiut in private houce» Oui even
in taverns; hair-brained youtns, iGrnnrant mecnamcs,
silly old men, — ^in short, the vulgar o^all cia»MS. — caking
upfm themselves to give tlieir opinion on the deeoer
mvsteriei of the faith. The second counsel k for those,
whether men or women, who affect to pass in society
for being very learned and deeply versed in spiritual
and mystical science, maintaining' their opinions with
warmtn, ill -temper, sharpness, irritation, obitinaer,
pridfl^ making more noise than those who are mora n

'^•^^

8T. FRANCIS DE SALES. 359

the right than themselves, but who have not tool
strong heads and lend voices ; as if it added any thing
to the solidity of an argument to make a great bluster
The Saint concluded by saying, * Never, then, speak oi
Gk>d or of reli^on formaUy or as a topic of conversation,
but always with attention and devotion ; and this I say
to correct a notable vanity observable in many per
sons, who make a profession of piety, and who on ever}
occasion utter holy and fervent words in a conventionaT^
manner and without giving them any thought; iz.i
after having uttered them they fancy themselves to be
•uch as theur words testify woile it is no such thing.'

** He considered that among the marks of pre-
destination, one of the strongest was a love of hearing
the word of God according to the teaching of Jesus
Christ.* To hearken to the voice of the Shepherd is
the mark of a good sheep, who will one day be placed
at the right hand to heai* those words, Comey ye tlessea
of My Father. But he would not have us to be idle
and profitless hearers of this word. He would have us
put it in pra'stice ; and he said that God was prepared
to ffrant oui prayers in proportion to our efforts to
perrorm what Le set before us by the mouth of the
ambassadors of His will. Amoug those who take a
pleasure in hearin|^ the word of G id, he remarked that
a defect is apt to insinuate itself, naiiiely, acceptance of
)ersons ; ' as if this salutary bread and this water oi
leavenly wisdom were not as profitable to the soul whe^i
)rought by a raven as by ar) angel, I mean by a dis>
agreeable and bad preacher as by a good and pleasing
one.' St. Charles Borromeo always read the Scriptures
on his knees, as though he had been listening to Ghxl
ipeaking from Mount Sinai in the midst of lightnings
and thunders; and our Saint, whether speudng in
public or writing or readmg in privrte, desired that we
•hoQld ever handle it with the ver^ greatest reverenoa
He did not like a preacher nlungmg at once into th«
MyitoJ MDse before he had first expounded the literal ;
• Je^ vUi, 47| ^T. tu

i .f

■i i

■f

•T. FBAirOIf DB SALBi^

ihiiy bv said, was to oonstract the roof of a house befwe
lading -is foundation. Holy Scripture was to be treated
with mure solidi^ and reverence."

M. de Belley proceeds to rel&te an instance of his
exaotneris in the application of any text of Scripture.

'' Pleaching one day before him, I happened to
apply to the contagious example of bad company that
saying of the prophet^ With the holy thou wilt he holy,
and with the perverse thou wilt he perverted;* a very
common applicaticn. I perceived at once that he was
not satisfied ; and when we were alone he asked me why
i had so strained this passage, knowing well that such
was not the literal meaning. I replied that it was in
the way of allusion. ' So I understand it/ he replied ;
' but you ouffht at least to have noticed that that was
Qot the literal sense ; for according to the letter it refers
to Gh>dy who is good — ^that is, merciful — towards those
who are good, and evil — that is, severe — towards those
who are evil ; punishing the one, and showing mercy
to the others.' Conclude how exact he himself was
when handling the word of God, since he was so strict
with others,--he who was incomparably more indulgent
towards others than towards himself.

" He recommended spiritual reading as a food of the
ioqI, which was at hand every where and at all times,
and which could never fail us ; whereas we cannot always
hear preaching, or have guides and spiritual directors,
nor can our memory always recall exactly all we have
berid in sermons and in public or private exhortations.
He wished us to provide ourselves with books of piety^
as 80 many matches of holy love, and never to let a
day go by Without making use of them. He would
hare us read with great respect and devotion, regarding
them fts so many missive letters sent by the saints in
heaven to point us out tha way thither and encourage ns
dn our journey. It must be confessed, that thore are
DO wfer directors than those departed ones who speak
with aneh % liTing voioe in their writings. For th»
• Pkaba zvii. i«» S7.

BT. FRANCIS DB SALBS.

ouse before
} be treated

ance of his
cripture.
appened to
tnpany that
tilt be holyy
'df a very
:;hat ho was
ced me why
11 that such
it it was in
he replied;
at that was
:ter it refers
wards those
wards those
^ing mercy
limself was
as so strict
•e indulgent

I food of the

kt all times,

inot always

U directors,

ill we have

bortations.

ks of piety,

er to let a

He would

I, regarding

le saints m

loourageiis

there are

who speak

. For th»

most part, they were the interpreters of the will of Ood,
and His ambassadors for dispensing His word, the
bread of which they broke to little ones with their
tongues, which were to them as pens; while, after
death, their pens serve as tongues by wkioh they speak
to us. If any obscurity or dimcult} is to be met with
m their works, we may have recourse, for its under-
standing and elucidation, to the assistance of some able
ana experienced person. He stron^'ly recommended
reading the lives of the saints; saying, that it was
the Gospel in practice. We shall at the least derive
from their perusal a great love for piety, provided we
read with humility and a desire to imitate the saints.
Like the manna, we find therein whatever flavour pleases
our taste. From so many different flowers it is easy
to extract,, like industrious bees, the honeycomb of ex-
cellent piety. Although the Imeaments of the Spirit
of God in souls are as various, and even more so, than
the features of our faces, still it is tine that we can
draw from them something to imitate, or at any rate
wherewithal to admire the grace of God, which has
worked such great things in and by them. And if this
admii'ation should be all that we derive, would not this
be an excellent way of praising God and the operations
of Hisgrace ?

" Efa was in the habit of saying, speaking of the
two sacraments of Penance and the Holy Eucharist,
that they were like the two poles of the Christian life :
that by the first we renounced all sin, surmounted all
temptations, ard stripped ourselves of the old man ; and
that by the second we put on the new man, Jesus Christ,
to waUc in justice and holiness, going on from virtue to
virtue to the mountain of perfection. He admired much
that thought of St. Bernard, who wished his religious
to attribute to the frequent use of this sacrament of life
all the victories they gained ovei their vices, and all
the progress they made in virtue, saying that it wai
there that they drew water with joy from the Saviour'i
fountaina. Ht said, that thosa \r jc souicht txcusM to

'. ,1-

- ■ ' r

11
■I.J ' 5

i 1

m • <5!

»<E3

■T. FRANOIt DB 1ALB8.

difpense them from frequent oommimion, were like
those inyited guests in the parable vrho excited the angw
of the master of the house, although their reasons of
refusal seemed toler&hlj plausible. Some say they are
not Bufioiently perfect ; and how are they to become
BO, if they keep away frcim the source of all perfection ?
others plead tneir weakness, but this is the bread of
the strong ; others, infirmity, but here is the physician ;
others, that they are not worthy, but does not the
Church put these words into the mouths of the holiest :
Lord, J am not worthy that Thou thouldett etUer im-
der my roqft^ others, that they are CTtirwhehned with
business, but here is One who cries to them. Come to
Me all you that labour and are hwdertedf and I witt
refresh you ,*t others, that they fear to reoeiTe to their
condemnation, but have they not reason to fear being
condemned for not receiving? others allege humility,
tut this is often a false humility, like that of Aohaisy
which was opposed to the glory of Qod while feigning
to fear to tempt Him. And how are we to learn how
to receive Jesus Christ well except by receiving Him,
as we leam how to do every thing else well by dint of
doing it? His sentiments with regard to tne oom-
munion of the Body and Blood of «^sus Christ in the
Most Holy Sacrament of the Eucharist were very sweet
and tender; and reverential fear was so tempered by
divine love, that ;t uu way interfered with confidence, or
confidence with reverence. He ardently desired that
we should annihilate ourselves in receiving the Holy
Eucharist, after the pattern of the Savioiu^s self-an-
nihilation in communicating Himself to us ; bowing the
heavens of H^'ft greatness, tha^ he may accommodate
and unite Hiuiseff to our lowr "ss.

** Having been bom during the octave of the Aa-
flumption of thp Blessed Vir^, he had always a pecu-
liar devotion towards her. Trom his tenderett yean,
we leam from nis life, he devoted himself to honour
her, both by Bpedal fuffrages and by a singular lova
• Matt viiL lb f Matt zL St.

I, were LQn
ed the angvr
T reasons 0/
say they are
T to become

I perfedaon ?
;he bread of
e physician ;
oes not the
' the holiest :
lit etUertmr
hehned with
)m, Cams to
If and I wiU
mve to their
o fear being
^ humility.
Bit of AchaiBy
liile feigning
o learn how
diving Him,

II by dint of
the com-

hrist in the
B very sweet
empered by
anndence, or
desired that
g the Holy
lirs self-an-
bowing the
3commodate

of the As-

nyi a peca-
erest yean,
f to honour
ngnlar love
.11.

M*. VIIAN0I8 DS SALBS.

for paxitYi consecrating himself to God by » yow ot
perpetual yurginity muur the protection and aid of thii
Queen of Virgins. You know that it was on the feast
of the Immaculate Conception that he receiyed ems-
copal consecration, and during this holy ceremony that
interior unction of which mention is made in his life.
I^haye often heard him preach on the glories of the
Mother of God; and I must confess that his incom-
parable sweetness seemed specially to fit him to dis-
course of this Mother of all oenediction. And, indeed,
there was nothing he so strongly recommended his
spiritual children as devotion to me Blessed Virgin.

** It was a common sa^g of his, * We do not suf-
ficiently bear our dead in mind, our dear departed ones ;
and the proof of this is, we do not talk often enough oi
them. We turn away from the subject as gloomy ; we
.et the dead bury their dead ; with us their memory
dies away with the sound of the tolling bell, and we
never renect that a fiiendship wluch death can dissolve
never was a genuine friendship. Scripture even telling
us that true love is stronger than death. Then it
is that praise can no longer be suspected of flattery ;
and as there is a roedes of impiety in lacerating the
reputation of the dead like wud-beasts who disinter
bodies to devour them, so is it a mark of piety to re-
cord their good Qualities, for we are thus stirred up to
imitate them.' When any of his frioids or acquaint
ance died, he was insatiable in speaking well of them and
recommending them to the prayers of every one. He
was in liie haoit of ^yin^, ^t in this one act of mercy
the other thirteen were mcluded : ' Is it not,' he sai^
' in a manner to visit the sick, to obtain by our prayers
the relief of these poor souls in purgatory? Is it not
to ^ve drink tc those who so intensely thirst fat the
vision of God, and who are in the midst of those fierce
flames, to give tham a share of the dew of our prayers ?
Is it not to feed the hungir, to forward tlieir deliyer^
anee by the means which faith snggTsts to us? Is it
•sttnaytonuDMOBpriionm? Is it sot to dotht tbi

t84

•T. FBANOIB DB SALBf

naked, to proooro for them a gannent of light, tfM
the light of glory? Is it not to exercise a vngnlai
hospiUuityi to obtain their introduotion into the heavenl;!
Jerosalem, and render them citizens of the saints and
of the household of God in the eternal Sion ? Is it not
a greater service to place souls in heaven than to hvaj
hwdea in the earth t As for the spiritual works, is it
not a work the merit of which mav be compared tc
giving counsel to the simple, correctmg those who err,
teachmg the ignorant, forgiving offences, and bearing
injuries ? Ana what consolation can we give to the
sorrowful of this world, compfirable to that which our
prayers afford to' those poor Sv?uls which are under the
pressure of so heavy an affliction f

** His opinion, however, was, that we might draw
more consolation than terror from the thoughts of pur-
gatory. ' Most of those,' he said, * who so much dread
puivatory, dread it from interested motives, and from
the love they bear themselves, more than from regard
to the interests of Gkxl ; and this comes from the practice
of preachers who generally dwell uwm the simerings
enaured Uiere, ramer than upon tne happiness and
peace of the siiffering souls. It is true that their pains
are so great, that the most excruciating toiments of this
life are not to be compared to them ; but at the same
time the inward consolations they enjoy are also so great,
that no prosperity or earthly enjoyment can equal it.
1. The souls enjo]^ an abiding; union with God. 2, They
are perfectly resigned to the Divine Will, or rather,
their will is so entirely transformed into tbat of God,
that they can only will what God wills ; so that were
Paradise thrown open to them, they would rather
plunge into hell than appear before God with the stains
thqr still behold upon themselves. 3. They undergo
a loving^ and voluntanr purification, bwause such is the
good inll of God. 4. They desire to be ?fhere they
are, in the manner which is pleasing to Go<L and for as
long as He pleases. 6. They are impeccable, and in-
Mfmle of too liMt mawnmmt of impatitnoe or tbt

a singnlai
le heaTenl^
saints and
* Is it not
lan tohvaj
Forks, is it
impared to
se who err,
Qd bearing
;ive to the
which our
I under the

light draw

hte of pur-

nuoh dread

I, and from

roro regard

iie practice

sufferings

piaeBs and

their pains

entsofthis

the same

io so great,

equal it.

2. They

or rather,

it of Ood,

that were

Id rather

the stains

f undergo

uch is the

ere thej

' for as

and in-

•r th«

•T. riUirOIS DB lALlf.

jetit ihade of Imperfection. 6. They love GkMl iMtter
than themselyes or any other thing, with a perfect^
pfure, and disinterested love. 7. The^ are comforted by
angels. 8. Thev are secure of their salvation, ia th#
possession of a hope whose expectation cannot be con*
founded. 9. Their exceeding bitterness is accompanied
with a profound peace. 10. If as respects pain it is a
species of hell, it is a heaven as respects the sweetness
which charity diffuses in their hearts ; a chanty stronger
than death and more powerful than hell, whose lamps
are fire and flames. 11. Happy state, more to be de-
sired than dreaded, since its flames are flames of love
and charity. 12. Terrible, nevertheless, since they de-
lay the soul's ultimate consummation, which consists in
seeing Gkxl and loving Him; and seeing and lovi^
Him, to praise and glorify Him for all eternity.' m
recommended strongly on this subject the admirable
treatise on puriratory of the blessed Catherine of Genoa.
I often read and re-re<ul it by his advice attentively,
and always witu u new relish and fresh light; and I
must own that I never read aLy thine which satisfied
me so thoroughly. I even recommended it to some Pro-
testants, who were much pleased with it; and one learned
man, in particular, told me that had this treatise been
placed in his hands before his conversion, he should
nave been more moved by it than by all the arguments
he had heard upon the subject.

** But if this be so, it is said, why be so desirous
to assist the souls in purgatory? Because, notwith-
standing these advantages, the state of these souls is
one of great affliction, and truly worthy of our com-
passion ; besides which, it is because the glory they will
give to Qod in heaven is retarded. These two motives
ought to stir us u^ ' o obtain for them a speedy release
by our prayers, our fasis, our alms, and every kind of
good work, but particularly by offering for them ths
Holy Sacrifice of^the Mass.

*' He advised the persons who consulted him to jein
•1 ibM ooufrmtamities of the plaoM in whioh thaj inai

n, rmAWOit urn ialm.

"^ if

ilMmMifM, in ordtr to participate in all the gmi worki
performed bj them. He re-asrared them &^ to the
mittaken fear they entertahied of similng, if they did
not acquit themselves of certain practices which are
rather recommended than commanded by the rules ol
these confraternities. ' For/ said he, ' if some of the
mlei of religious orders do not bind under pain of
mortal or even of Tenial sin, how much less the statutes
of confraternities f What is recommended to the mem*
bers of them is of counsel, not of precept. There are in-
dulgences for those who perform them, which those
who neglect them lose ; but this loss is altogether ex*
empt from sin. There is much to gain, and nothing to
lose.' He wondered at so few persons joining them.
He attributed it to two causes. Some refram from
scrupulosity, fearing to take upon themselyes a yoke
tHey could not bear ; others, from want of piety, looking
■pon those who joined them as hypocrites.

** It was one of his maadms, that great fideUty towards
God W('^ :baplayed in fidelity in litue things. * He who
is er!oaf>.7'ii al of pence ana farthings,' he said, 'how
mmk more so will he be of crowns and pistoles I' And
what h? 'taught he practised carefully, for he was the
most punctual num tLat was oyer seen. Not only in
the celebration of the services of the Church, at the
altar, and in chour, but also when he said his office
in private, he observed the minutest ceremonies ac-
curately Ukd faithfully. He followed the same rule
in his demonstrations of civility ; he never omitted any
tiling. One day that I eom^ained to him of his show-
ing me too much honour, 'What account do you take/
he replied, * of Jesus Christ, whom I honour in your
person r Above all he recommended me to study the
Pontifioale. ' It is for the nastors/ he said, * who are
the salt of the earth toad the light of the world, to show
themselves patterns in all things.' He had often in ids
mouth that admirablo sayinf of St Paul, Ltt aU tkmf§
ht dans dtctniljf mtd aoeoramg U ordtrj**

• 1 Cor. siv. 4ft

•T. VBAirOIS DB SALIt.

We Mnnot better oonolude than with a referenoe to
Us &Toarite exercise of the presence of God, and to
tho abtmdanoe of consolations with which this eminent
dtant was fayoured.

** He set such a hiah value on the exercise of the
presenoe of Ood, that he recommended it as our dadly
Dread. I say daily brea/' because, as in feeding our
bodies we a^ bread t >ur other viands, so tJso is

there no spiritual c h combines more con-

veniently and profitab . our actions than th&t

of the jnesence of Goo ^L, he exclaimed, ' this is
the debg^htful exercise of the blessed, or rather the per-
petual exercise of their beatitude, according to those
words of our Lord, 7%eir cmgeU always tee thejace of
My Father who it in heaven.* For if the Queen of
Saba considered the servants and courtiers of Solomon
as very happy from being always in his presence,
listening to the words of wisdom which fc^ from his
lipe, how mrch greater is the happiness of those who
are continually attentive to the holy presence of Him
vn whom the angelt denre to looky\ although thef con-
iniudly behold Him ! a desire which keeps up in them
a perpetual hunger to behold more and more Him
whom they contemplate ; for the more they behold Him
jrhom they desire, the more they desire to behold Him,
never becoming satiated with their continual satiety.'
Our S&int believed that the majority of the failings in
their dulTi of which pious persons are guilty, proceed
from their not keepin^r themselves sufficiently in the
presence of Gk>d."

The following confession abundentlv proves that in
that holy presence he found the life ot his life and an
antidpatea Paradise.

'' ' If you knew,* he said one day to an intimate
friend, ' how God treats my heart, you would thank
His goodness for it, and beseech Him to give me the
roirit of counsel and of fortitude to execute the inspira-
fewni of wisdom and of understandmg that He gives
• lUtt. zvitt. la t 1 F«t. L It.

mim

'^i:l

[.» Si

'r;!i* M

,'• 11

«T. VKAjroit vm lALia.

me/ He frequently said the same thinr to mjsell
though in other words. ' 0, how good/ ne tzdiumed
sometimes^ * is the Ood of Israel to them that are of a
ri|^ht heaiiy since He is so to those who hare suoh a
miserahle one as I have, which gives so little heed to
Hkigraoe and is so hent down to earch I 0, how sweet
is His spirit to the souls that love Him, and who seek
Him with all their power ! Truly His name it at oil
povred out. There is no need to wonder if many
courapfeous hearts foUow Him with so much devotion,
that IS, run with such swiftness and delight after the
odour of Hit oerfitmet, 0, what great things does the
unction of Gk>a teach us ; and that with so sweet a light,
that it is difficult for us to discern whether the sweet-
ness is more agreeahle than the light, or the liffht than
the sweetness ! I tremble, however, from fear Tett OoC
should be giving me my paradise in this world. 1 ao
not really Know what adVers.ity 3S. I never saw tfat
face of poverty. The pains J have suffered have been
no more than scratches, wliich have only ruffled the skin.
Galunmies are crosses formed of wind, whose memory
perishes with iha sound. It is little to have beoi fi-ee
from afflictions, but I am also gxtysd wfth temporal
and spiritual goods ; I am up to my eves in IbuBO ; a&d
in the midst of it all I remain insensible and ungrateful.
0, I beg of you, help me sometimes to thank Gk>d,
and to beseech Him that I may not eat my choice
morsel (literally, white bread) first I He well knows my
frailty and my weakness, and therefore He treats me
as a child, giving me sweet things alonv with milk
instead of more solid food. When will He give me
grace, after having enjoyed so much of His favour, to
Mffh for a little under {he cross? since to reign with
Wm we must suffer ¥nth Him. We must indeol either
bve Him or die ; ov rather, we must love Him in order
to die, that is, we must die to all other love to live for
His love alone, and to live for Him alone who died that
we might live an eternal life in the arms of His love.
whit a bli!HBsed thmg it is to live in God edj, It

fT. FAANCIl ]»■ f ALIt.

90r

hhmat for Qod only, and to raioioe only In God
HflDoeforward, with the help of Qod'i gnuML no oo
■hull have any hold upon me, and no one ihall he an^
thmg^ to me, save in God and fcr God only. I hope *'
airive at thia when I shall hare heen truly humhle^
before Him. Live, God ! it leems to me that all it af
nothing to me save in God, in whom and for whom
love souls with the ^preater tenderness. 0, when wi]
this natural love of kindred, of worldly proprieties an(
considerations, of correspondence, of sympatnies, and o
graces, be purified and reduced to the perfect obedienci
of pure love, and of the good pleasure of G< d? When
shful this self-love no longer sigh after s< tisible pre*
sence, proofs of affection, and external demonstrationi^
Dut remain fully satisfied with the unvarying and im«
mutable assurance that God abideth for ever? What
can presence add to a love which God has made, and
whicn He sustains and preserves? What maru of
perseverance can one require in a state of unity which
Ib God's work? Presence or distance will make no
change in the solidity of a love which Qod Himself haf
formed.'

** I confess," adds the gooa Bishop, " that mi
heart, when listexiinff to all these words man the mouti
of our Saint, bumea within me, like the hearts of the
disciples going to ihnmaus ; for was not this indeed to
flmg' coals of fire into my face ? 0, when shall the
time come when in heaven we shall love unohangmb^
and without intcrmiflsion Him who baa loved us witfe
an everlasting love, and who has drr^rn na to Uis lovt
tuKVUg oompAiiion upon us !'*

IHB jah