Stephen

ON SAINT STEPHEN, FOUNDER OF THE ORDER OF GRANDMONT, AMONG THE LEMOVICES IN GAUL

In the year of Christ 1124.

Preliminary Commentary.

Stephen, Founder of the Order of Grandmont in Gaul (Saint)

By I. B.

Section I. The origin, name, Founder, and Rule of the Grandmontine religious order.

[1] There is in Gaul ^a congregation of ascetics whom they call the Good Men, or of Grandmont, because their principal monastery is on that mountain. This congregation began in the eleventh century of the Christian Era, The Order of Grandmont celebrated for its contempt of worldly things and austerity of life, but scarcely known outside Gaul, and not spread through many houses in it, because perhaps the excessive harshness of its discipline was judged by no means tolerable to human weakness. austere, Certainly its founder, Stephen of Thiers in Auvergne, is said to have had very few imitators for many years, until gradually experience proved that there is no weakness which cannot be strengthened by Divine grace for however arduous ^a task.

[2] Stephen himself, however, did not establish the arena at Grandmont: when and whence was it so called? his successors occupied it with humble huts of mud and branches, the Father's body having been translated there, when the envy of their neighbors had compelled them to leave their original seat if they wished to enjoy the quiet necessary for the contemplation of divine things. Stephen had dwelt at Muret for fifty years. begun at Muret, ^a harsh place, This is ^a hill three leagues distant from the city of Limoges, surrounded by other hillocks, fenced at ^a distance by very high rocks, from which very many streams flow together into the middle valley, enclosed by the industry and labor of the monks into an excellent fishpond. The soil of Muret, however, is barren, not fit for cultivation, being entirely stony, so exposed to winds, rains, and frost that it scarcely seems habitable; and before the arrival of Saint Stephen it bristled with dense brambles and thickets. Our Francis Bencius mentions this place and Saint Stephen in the oration delivered at the funeral of Marc-Antoine Muret: "Marc-Antoine Muret," he says, "was born in the year after Christ's birth 1526, in the month of April, in Gaul, in ^a suburban village of Limoges, called Muret, in ^a most honorable place, his father ^a jurist, of ^a very ancient and noble family — one which had anciently possessed that village, whence the family name; and four hundred years before had produced Stephen, by Saint Stephen, founder of the Grandmontine Order, ^a most holy man and singular in the affliction of his body, whose feast day falls on the Ides of February." Which our Andrew Schott described in those very words in the Life of Muret. But more than five hundred years before that oration was delivered or Muret departed this life, Stephen was born, and died four hundred and two years before the birth of the same Muret; nor does he have the Ides of February dedicated to him, but the sixth day before the Ides. Nor, finally, did that village or lineage which produced Marc-Antoine produce him. sprung from elsewhere, For he was born among the Arverni, at Thiers, which is now ^a celebrated marketplace according to Papire, formerly ^a castle which Stephen, the father of Stephen, is believed to have held, together with other very ample properties which the Canons of Thiers now possess.

[3] The land, however, on which the monastery of Muret was built, Charles Fremon writes in the French Life of Saint Stephen, to whom ^a piece of land there was given, was given to him by Amelinus, Lord of Raucon; others gave various other things necessary for the building of his monastery, and not ^a little was later bestowed by the Empress Matilda, daughter of Henry I, King of England, and mother of Henry II. Although, moreover, the monks migrated from Muret to Grandmont under Peter of Limoges, the second Prior, the monastery at Muret was not entirely abandoned; but either ^a few remained as custodians, or they were recalled by the monks of Ambazac, who had brought upon them the necessity of departing. now entirely abandoned by the Order. But now that first house of the entire Order, consecrated by the habitation of Saint Stephen, is entirely deserted. Nevertheless, the cell of the Saint himself, ^a stone's throw distant from the ruins of the monastery, is still seen today.

[4] Some writers who flourished in Gaul in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries extol the Grandmontine Order with extraordinary praise. John of Salisbury, Bishop of Chartres, who is reported to have died in the year of Christ 1180, ^a very close friend of Saint Thomas of Canterbury, writes this about the Grandmontines in Book 7, chapter 23, of the Policraticus, or On the Trifles of Courtiers: "The Carthusians and the new profession of Grandmont most cautiously and most faithfully avoid the name and stigma of hypocrites, established on the pinnacle of ancient virtue, with the Savior going before." And shortly after: The praised poverty of the Order, "Moreover, the inhabitants of Grandmont have chosen ^a most arduous life, and as masters not only of avarice but in ^a certain way even of nature itself, they have excluded all the demands of necessity and cast away anxiety about the morrow. To despise all the pleasures of the world is ^a small thing in their eyes: by whatever image anyone may knock at their doors, he is excluded and departs in confusion. For Christ alone enters through those gates, upon whose grace they rely, casting their care upon Him who nourishes the little ones, gives food to the beasts of burden and to the young ravens, clothes the lilies of the field, and provides necessities to all who hope in Him or obey the law of His constitution, so that nothing is lacking to those who have not withdrawn themselves from His will. They therefore cast all their solicitude and everything upon Him who has care for the faithful; and they so avoid the anxieties of providence that their entire life seems to some ^a temptation."

[5] Peter, Abbot of Celle, later the successor of John of Salisbury in the Bishopric of Chartres, in Epistle 8 of Book 3, commends himself to the prayers of the Grandmontines and shows how splendidly he regards their virtue. And in Book 8, Epistle 7, he seeks the same support of prayers and praises the custom of meeting annually at Grandmont from all the monasteries: annual assemblies, "For the day of the Lord," he says, "is holy, the solemnity of Saint John the Baptist, when the chicks fly back to the mother hen, and from each of your houses the little streams flow back to the place from which they went out, so that, with their course repaired by paternal instruction and correction, they may flow again more copiously and more strongly." And after ^a few words: "Because we love and honor your Brothers who dwell in our regions; and you also have ^a good cell in our patrimony." Peter, when he wrote this epistle, was Abbot of the monastery of Saint-Remi at Rheims; as also when he wrote the 22nd of the same book, which he begins thus: "We commend ourselves at least by annual return to the religious assembly of your Brotherhood and to your most holy prayers. For it seems to me that the river of Paradise recalls its courses, as it were, to its original bosom, when from the various parts of the world your Priors happen to come together as one on the solemn day of Blessed John the Baptist."

[13] Lest anyone, however, suppose that these things were said sarcastically by an adversary, as if in satire, it is worth giving here the entire chapter 19 of Jacques de Vitry's History of the West. There is another religious order of Brothers, or regular institution, which is called of Grandmont, whose head and original monastery is in the regions of Aquitaine. The care of temporal affairs entrusted to laymen: These Brothers of Grandmont indeed prudently established from the beginning of the Order that the monks should attend solely to spiritual and divine offices, the administration and provision of temporal affairs being entrusted and left to the lay Brothers. Moreover, they observe the Rule and institutions of the Cistercian Order in almost all other respects, strict abstinence from meat: except that they may never eat meat after they have made their profession, no matter how severe an illness may afflict them. Furthermore, they observe silence in the church, what manner of silence? so long as they are present at divine offices, and in the refectory and dormitory only; in other places and at other hours, whenever it pleases them, they may speak, looking upon one another and mutually consoling each other, according as the Lord shall have inspired them. Moreover, they are so diligent in carefully observing the enclosures of their monasteries with doors always closed, strict enclosure. that entrance is not easily granted except to great and distinguished persons, and to familiars of the Order; nor do they expose their cloister and the interior of their dwelling to guests as do the Cistercians and other regular orders. They have, moreover, one supreme Prior, who, although he has no administration of temporal affairs, before him alone all the lay brothers are bound to render an account of their stewardship once ^a year at the general chapter, and those who dwell nearby in the same region, once ^a month. He has furthermore the power to send one monk with ^a lay brother to visit the monasteries of the entire Order.

[14] Although, moreover, it may seem expedient for monks and spiritual men not to have the administration of temporal affairs, or any kind of dominion, so that they may be able to devote themselves to spiritual matters all the more tranquilly insofar as they do not think about temporal things; nevertheless the enemy of the human race and the cunning assailant of all religion, envying such holy and salutary institutions, on this occasion stirred up ^a very pernicious murmuring, sedition, and scandal between clerics and laymen, monks and conversi of the aforesaid monastery of Grandmont. A dissension arose, For it seemed to the monks that they ought to have been set over the laymen in all things, not subject to them; just as is done in other religious congregations, which are accustomed to place the capitals, not the bases, at the summit of the building. They added furthermore that the laymen despised them, and presumed to lord it over them not only in temporal matters, but frequently also in spiritual ones. For when their priests wished to celebrate regularly the proper office of the day, the laymen prescribing the order and time of divine services, the laymen wished to hear Masses of the Blessed Mary, or of the Holy Spirit, or for the dead; and according to their various occupations, they demanded that divine services be celebrated for them now earlier, now later. But if the priests refused, the laymen grew indignant toward them and were angered against the monks, murmuring. and vexing the clerics: And since the monks received what they needed only through the hands of the laymen, when the monks requested necessities, the laymen, passing by with deaf ears and dissembling, frequently harassed the monks. On the other hand, the laymen, accusing the monks of ingratitude, asserted that while the monks remained in their peace and the quiet of contemplation, they themselves bore the burden of the day and the heat, and were weighed down by the anxiety of temporal administration, so that the monks, whom they served, might not lack necessities. And since Mary is not read to have murmured against Martha, it ought to suffice the monks that they could rest in the cloister while others went out, and devote themselves to readings and prayers.

[15] At length, indeed, when the parties came to the hearing of the Supreme Pontiff, the Lord Pope, after many arguments and various disputes, both restored peace and concord between the parties; commanding the lay Brothers that they should honor the monks, reconciled to one another by the authority of the Pope: and be subject to them in spiritual matters; and that they should not presume by any presumption to command or ordain anything concerning divine offices. To the monks, moreover, he enjoined that they should love the lay Brothers, instructing them by word and example in ^a spirit of gentleness, and mercifully bearing with their defects; and that they should not begrudge them the procurement and administration of temporal affairs; but, leaving to them the care of external matters without complaint and murmuring, they themselves should attend to spiritual matters and devote themselves to divine offices.

[16] That distinction of duties between clerics and laymen is expressed in chapter 54 of the Rule. The laymen at last subjected to the clerics. However, the following is written in the margin: This chapter, insofar as it speaks of the care of the Conversi, was removed by John XXII, who sat from August 7, 1316, until December 4, 1334. This is indeed what Platina writes in the Life of that Pontiff: He reduced the Order of Grandmont, which had been undermined by the factions of certain wicked men, to ^a better form; cutting away those things which were harmful to the Order, and adding certain institutions by which so great ^a religious body might stand firm. And indeed it was unworthy, as Stephen of Tournai writes, that the laymen should be more numerous and greater in authority, not the clerics; not the learned, but those without learning.

[17] It appears that this dissension between clerics and laymen gave Saint William of Bourges occasion Saint William, later Bishop of Bourges, on that occasion became ^a Cistercian, to transfer from the Grandmontine Order to the Cistercian. Concerning which matter, the second Life of his feast on January 10, number 3, states: When he had grown to mature manhood, unable to bear the troubles of the world which seemed to impede his holy purpose, having broken the fetters of such troubles, he flew to the Grandmontine hermitage... But on ^a certain day, when ^a disturbance arose in that same Grandmontine Order, Blessed William, who feared for the tranquility of his mind, chose by pious deliberation to transfer himself to the Cistercian Order at the monastery of Pontigny. And in the third Life: Fearing lest the abundance of things and the blandishments of the world might recall him from his holy purpose, he flew to the Grandmontine hermitage. Where, when the sower of discord of the entire human race had sown discord between clerics and conversi, with the clerics licensed by the Lord Pope to transfer themselves to another religious order, as the Lord should inspire each one, Blessed William chose the Cistercian Order. It can be called into question whether William was among those about whom Robert of Pontigny had consulted Stephen, then still Abbot of Sainte-Genevieve (certainly after the year 1174, in which his predecessor was still alive), whether by the obligation of the vow which they had previously made they ought to return to the Grandmontines, or whether they would more wholesomely remain at Pontigny. a faculty granted by the Pope. The dates certainly agree; but since Saint William is reported to have abandoned Grandmont only when the clerics had been licensed by the Lord Pope to transfer themselves to another religious order, there could be no doubt about him that he was released from the prior obligation, provided he bound himself by the vows of the Cistercians. Nor anywhere, however, does Stephen cite the power given by the Pope to embrace another institute. Moreover, the Grandmontines still celebrate the feast of Saint William of Bourges on January 19 with ^a semi-double Office, as may be seen in the Offices of the Order.

[18] The laymen, moreover, or Conversi of whom we have just spoken, were called Bearded (as in certain other religious orders), because it was permitted to them to grow ^a beard. By their labor one fishpond was dug at Muret, and fifteen at Grandmont. The duties of the laymen: Otherwise, Saint Stephen forbade his followers all possessions of lands that were beyond the boundaries of their own places; and likewise beasts of every kind, as is established in chapters 4 and 6 of the Rule: both of which prohibitions, however, are said to have been abrogated by Innocent IV. Indeed, he did not even allow them to beg, unless ^a scarcity of provisions should have caused them to fast for two days. Besides these Conversi, Fremon reports that there were other familiars, whom he calls Associates, who were sharers in the good works others associated with them. performed by the Order and lent it their service, carrying alms that had been promised from ^a distance, and performing other ministries of that kind. He asserts that the one who is called their familiar in the Life, chapter 5, number 30, was from this class.

--- III. The Life, Age, Birth, Translation, and Canonization of Saint Stephen.

[19] About the year 1158, when Stephen of Lisiac was administering the Grandmontine family as the fourth General Prior, the acts of Saint Stephen were collected, The deeds of Saint Stephen collected in the year 1158: as the individual elders could recall from memory what they themselves had witnessed, or had heard from others, especially from Blessed Hugh Lacerta. Gerard Ithier (called by others Gerard and Girard), the seventh General Prior, later made use of these records to compose the Life of Saint Stephen. This Life was extracted from ancient codices and communicated to us by Pierre-Francois Chifflet. From these the Life was written, That it is indeed the same as what was written by Gerard, Fremon shows when in chapter 5 he cites from that Life what is found in this one, chapter 1, number 5, in the very same words. the same as is published here. "From his parents and brothers and kinsmen

and friends, who rejoiced greatly at his return, he secretly departed alone." What is recited in the Grandmontine offices from the Life of Blessed Father Stephen by Gerard, Prior of Grandmont, is for the most part more prolix and more ornate than what we publish: so that it appears to have been composed from the Life, not transcribed in the same words. elsewhere amplified: Although what Bellovacensis draws from his deeds does not entirely correspond to this Life, so that one may suspect that it has been at some point abridged here, or elsewhere interpolated by others, if this is the genuine text.

[20] Stephen of Tournai, cited above at number 8, seems to imply that this Life had for some time served in place of ^a Rule, was it formerly used as ^a Rule? or perhaps this title was prefixed to the Constitutions of the Order: "The Life of Saint Stephen," or "The Life of the Brothers of Grandmont." "A beautiful little book," he says, "which contains their constitutions is not called ^a Rule by them, or merely the Saint's precepts? but ^a Life." Now, however, it is certainly called the Rule of Saint Stephen Confessor, Author and Founder of the Order of Grandmont. In this very Life mention is made of the Rule prescribed by him for his followers. Thus chapter 4, number 24: "Only persevere in the Rule drawn by me from the Gospel." And lest anyone think that these things ought to be understood merely of the manner of living which he himself observed and taught his followers by the living voice, the writer of the Life speaks thus at number 23: "Because it is written in his maxims and the teachings of his counsels, we pass over it in silence." Whether, however, that commentary was composed by himself, or rather afterwards compiled by another, let them not rashly affirm. At number 28 it is said that he did not wish mention to be made of his regular institutions to those who criticized them.

[21] Besides that Life, and what Vincent of Beauvais published in Book 25, chapters 46 and the four following, the following treat of him: Saint Antoninus, Part 2, Title 15, chapter 21; Another Life of Stephen. Peter de Natalibus, Book 3, chapter 120; Chrysostom Henriquez in the Fasciculus of Saints of the Cistercian Order, Book 2, Distinction 2; Benedict Gonon in the Lives of the Fathers of the West, Book 3; Bernard Gui, cited by Menard in Book 1 of the Observations on the Benedictine Martyrology, February 13; Simon Martin in the Flowers of Solitude, Book 3; Antonio de Yepes, Chronicle of Saint Benedict, Century 6, at the year 1076, chapters 3 and 4. The following also make mention of him, besides those previously cited: Bartholomew Chassanaeus in the Catalogue of the Glory of the World, Part 4, Consideration 67; Polydore Vergil, On the Inventors of Things, Book 7, chapter 2; Claude Robert in the Gallia Christiana; Vincent Ciarlanti in the Antiquities of Samnium, Book 3, chapter 34. Most copiously of all, however, Charles Fremon, ^a religious of the same Order, wrote and published his Life in French at Dijon in the year 1647.

[22] The age of Saint Stephen is thus computed in the Latin Life: "In the year of the Lord 1076, being in his thirtieth year, he promised to serve God in the Catholic faith"; He died not in the year 1126, chapter 1, number 5. Then, "remaining there in continuous fasts and prayers, serving God day and night, never returning to the world, he completed fifty years." If fifty be added to 1076, we obtain 1126. Hence Baronius maintains that he died in that year, at the age of eighty. Others also follow the same calculation. Fremon writes that he died in the year 1125, on February 8, ^a Friday. nor 1125, For in the Life by Gerard he says it is stated that he died "in the year of the Lord one thousand and twenty-fourth nearly completed": because, namely, the people of Limoges and the rest of the French reckoned the year from Easter; by which reckoning February of the year 1125 belonged to the preceding year. But those words are absent from the Life which we give here, and it is only said that he died on Friday, the sixth day before the Ides of February, the year not being expressed. The Offices of the Order likewise omit the year, but set down the sixth day before the Ides and Friday. And indeed in the year 1125 the Dominical letter was D, and the eighth day of February fell on ^a Sunday. For as to what Fremon says, that William of Saint-Savin and ^a certain one surnamed de Guardia, writers of the Order, report that he died under Honorius II, who was only created Pontiff at the end of December 1124 — these same writers may have erred in their calculation; or perhaps their records have been interpolated. Fremon testifies in chapter 21 that the first tomb of Stephen still exists at Muret, but 1124 in ^a chapel built afterwards, in which this epitaph is read:

Stormy February had already driven forth eight days of light, ...when the spirit of Stephen sought the stars; In the hundredth year and thousandth, and twice the tenth as well, With the fourth adjoined, having gained for himself the kingdom of heaven.

To the year 1124 according to today's reckoning, certainly, the markers expressed in the Offices and the Life agree, which Fremon wrongly twists to another date. For in that leap year the Dominical letter up to the intercalary day was F, and thereafter E, and thus the first and eighth days of February fell on ^a Friday. Friday, February 8. In the Breviary of Limoges it is explicitly said that he departed to heaven on the sixth day before the Ides of February, in the year of Christ 1124. It must be admitted, however, either that Stephen did not complete ^a full eighty years, or that perhaps there is an error in the first number, and that he withdrew into solitude in 1074, not 1076.

[23] The first Translation of his body occurred when the entire community migrated from Muret to Grandmont, translated to Grandmont, which Fremon says took place on June 25, five months after his death. This sacred treasure was concealed beneath the presbytery before the altar, with few knowing: lest ^a multitude should flock to venerate him, and the quiet of the holy house be disturbed by worldly noise. But soon the place became known through miracles, as is narrated in the history of the Translation and more fully in Fremon: who adds that when Prior Peter saw the crowds competing to gather there, and asked, indeed commanded by the second Prior, inflamed by ^a certain holy zeal, he remonstrated with the Saint — though in words full of reverence — that he was disturbing the quiet which he himself had commanded for them; and at length he asked, indeed by ^a certain simple innocence he commanded, that he cease to work miracles; otherwise he would dig up his bones and cast them into the water. he works no miracles, The Saint obeyed the command of his successor, and as long as that Prior lived, he performed no further miracle. Nevertheless, people did not on that account cease to flock there, both to venerate the Saint and to commend themselves to the prayers of his holy sons. At that time also, so many dedicated themselves to their institute that it was necessary to enlarge the monastery yet visited by many: and build ^a more spacious chapel. At that time also the foundations were laid of the church and house which still stand today.

[24] When Peter died, his nephew Peter of Saint-Christopher was substituted: who shortly afterwards, seized by illness, the third Prior's illness wiped away: when he was tortured by the severest pains, begged Saint Stephen and his holy uncle to remove or at least mitigate these pains. Having uttered this prayer, he sees two venerable old men approach him, and with ^a white and clean linen cloth wipe all his limbs from feet to head, and at the same time drive the pain from each one. When they departed, the novelty and greatness of the favor drew from him ^a feeling of shame, and ^a most ample thanksgiving.

[25] Stephen of Lisiac succeeded him, who built the church, when (as is narrated in the history of the Revelation, number 5) the architect was recalled to life through the invoked aid of Saint Stephen. He, at the general chapter, caused the manner of life that had been handed down by Saint Stephen to be committed to writing, divided into approximately fifty chapters: and this is the Rule, approved subsequently by several Pontiffs, which is now observed in that Order.

[26] The same Prior, however, when he heard that many miracles were occurring elsewhere through the invocation of Saint Stephen, fearing lest these should again draw ^a crowd to the Grandmontine church, The Rule compiled by the fourth Prior: the body concealed in the cloister? secretly removed the bones of the Saint from the tomb and hid them in the cloister, as though he believed that prayers would be less well heard which were not offered at the relics themselves. Nevertheless, as before, very many gathered, either to pray to the Saint for favors or to give thanks for those received. And in that very monastery ^a certain young man named Audoenus, ^a candidate of the Order, born of ^a most honorable place, while doing something or other for the sake of relaxation, a dead man raised at that place. fell to the ground with such force that he broke his neck. The Prior carried the corpse to the place where the relics of the Saint had been buried in the cloister: and having besought him that life be restored to the young man, he obtained it.

[27] The Prior himself then fell into ^a grave fever: and thinking it had been sent because the relics of the holy Father had been placed in ^a less fitting manner, especially because, enclosed in ^a wooden chest, they could easily decay; he commanded that they be brought to him, bedridden as he was, so that he might see to their being placed in ^a more ornate casket and returned to their former tomb. the Prior himself healed, As soon as they were brought to him, he was immediately freed from the fever; and he said, "What is this, holy Father? Or to whom do you apply this sudden cure? I do not doubt your sanctity, so that it should need to be proved to me by this miracle. I trusted that this illness would send me to your fellowship in heaven. Since, however, it has seemed otherwise to God and to you, I accommodate myself to your will." At the same time he rose from his bed, entirely free from all disease; more honorably replaced: and he placed the relics in ^a new casket and set them in the former tomb, beneath the altar of the chapel which was thereafter dedicated in his name. So Fremon, chapter 26.

[28] In the time, however, of Lord Bernard, the fifth Prior of Grandmont, when ^a general chapter had been assembled at Grandmont, an annual celebration of the first Translation instituted by the fifth Prior the Translation of the body of the most blessed Stephen was celebrated on the day following the Nativity of the Precursor and Herald of the Lord and Savior. So the history of the Translation, number 4. And then: "When he had heard that the Saint of God had been carried by the aforesaid Prior and by the entire convent from the cloister into the church," etc. — as though that Translation had then occurred which Fremon previously attributed to the fourth Prior Stephen: who in chapter 27 writes that Peter Bernard, the fifth Prior, took care only that the first Translation, which had formerly occurred when the community left Muret, should be celebrated with an annual solemnity; and that it was first celebrated on June 25, 1167, with ^a pious and magnificent procession. The Offices of the Order agree, in which the memory of that first Translation is prescribed to be celebrated on that day with the greater double rite, June 25: and the following is found in the sixth Lesson of that day: "By divine providence concerning this matter, under Peter Bernard the fifth Prior, at ^a well-attended chapter of the Order, it was decreed that the seventh day before the Kalends of July, on which that Translation was made, should be held sacred and solemn every year."

[29] The canonization was at length obtained by Gerard — or, as Fremon perpetually calls him, Gerard, or Girard, as the manuscript has it — the seventh Prior. Claude Robert in the Gallia Christiana mentions this canonization and elevation. It took place on August 30, 1189, and its memory is recalled annually with ^a feast of the second class. declared canonized August 30, 1189 Fremon enumerates in chapter 28 the bishops who attended the solemnity, together with the Cardinal of Saint Mark, the Apostolic Legate. Henry II, King of England, had himself also resolved to come, but he died in Gaul itself nearly two months before the celebration was carried out. not without miracles. Prior Gerard had commanded his men to beseech God earnestly that he would attest the sanctity of Stephen by new miracles and honor the celebration. Which happened abundantly. Fremon recites the bull of Canonization, of which Gerard inserted only ^a part into the history of the Revelation. It seems worthwhile to give it here in its entirety.

[30] Clement, Bishop, servant of the servants of God, to his beloved sons Gerard, Prior, and the Brothers of Grandmont, greeting and Apostolic blessing. Bull of canonization. Our Redeemer willed the sacrosanct Roman Church to be the head and mistress of all, so that at her direction and command, with Divine grace going before, whatever is to be done by the faithful anywhere may be ordered, and errors corrected for the better; and that in doubtful matters recourse may be had to her counsel; and that what she has established no one, however much he may glory in his own merits, may be permitted to change. Lest, if perchance an indiscriminate license were given to all to perpetrate whatever might occur to them according to their own will, ^a confused liberty — since vows differ according to the diversity of persons — should sometimes suppress, to the scandal of others and without the discernment of ^a just balance, things that ought to be commended, and should celebrate with undeserved praises things less worthy. Hence it was that our predecessor of good memory, Urban, proceedings conducted by Urban III, having heard the report of the religious life and the praiseworthy purity of life by which Stephen of holy memory, founder of the Grandmontine Order, had shone forth, and also by how great testimonies of miracles almighty God had willed to declare his merits to the world, wished to entrust to the Legates whom he had dispatched to those parts for the transaction of certain business of the Church ^a full investigation concerning these matters, so that from the testimony of these Legates and of other men to whom faith was undoubtedly to be given, they might proceed with deliberation to do what might seem fitting both for the advantage of the faithful and for the honor of that holy man, who had hitherto lain hidden like ^a gem in ^a dunghill.

[31] We also, from the testimony of our most dear son in Christ, Henry, the illustrious King of the English; and also of our venerable brothers, William of Rheims, Cardinal Priest of Santa Sabina, examined by Clement III. Bartholomew, Archbishop of Tours, and Elias, Archbishop of Bordeaux, and Seibrand, Bishop of Limoges, and our beloved Bohard, then Cardinal Deacon of Sant'Angelo, and Octavian, Cardinal Deacon of Saints Sergius and Bacchus, who discharged the office of legation in those parts, and of many other bishops — being more fully informed concerning the life, merits, and manner of living in which the aforesaid holy man is asserted to have flourished, and that Divine mercy willed to distinguish him by manifold signs of miracles — we have seen fit to entrust the execution of this matter to the judgment of our beloved son John, Cardinal Priest of San Marco, Legate of the Apostolic See, commanding him by Apostolic letters that, proceeding to your house and convening the bishops of the adjacent regions and other religious men, he should announce on our behalf that we have enrolled him among the Saints: by whom he was also canonized: henceforth to be numbered in the catalogue of Saints, and that we have decreed that through his merits the suffrages of the Redeemer should be sought together with the intercessions of the other Saints. Given at the Lateran, on the twelfth day before the Kalends of April, in the second year of our pontificate. This was the year, as indicated above, 1189.

[32] Besides the body of Saint Stephen, or its principal bones, there is preserved in the treasury of the Grandmontine church the tunic in which he was formerly clothed when he discharged the office of Deacon in the sacred rites: His relics, the Dalmatic, and even now, after more than five hundred years, it appears entirely fresh, although every Deacon ordained there is vested in it on the first day he publicly chants the Gospel.

[33] When the Canons of Thiers heard that Stephen, their fellow citizen and indeed the lord of their town, had been enrolled in the registers of the Saints, an arm at Thiers, they sent distinguished gifts to his tomb; and by ^a humble petition they besought the Prior and convent of Grandmont to bestow upon them some small portion of the relics of their holy Patron, offering in return an arm of Saint Felician, Bishop and Martyr of Foligno. The Grandmontines assented and gave the arm of Saint Stephen to the people of Thiers, who received it with ^a distinguished and devout procession and venerate it with an annual solemnity: just as also throughout the entire Grandmontine Order the feast of Saint Felician is celebrated on January 24 with the greater double Office.

[34] There was at Auginiac, which is ^a village of the diocese of Limoges, ^a priest most devoted to Saint Stephen and the Order: a tooth at Auginiac, he obtained from the Prior, by many prayers, ^a single tooth of the Saint. And when not long afterwards he had become deaf, so that he could hear absolutely nothing, but felt ^a dull buzzing sound perpetually ringing in his ears, he prostrated himself on his knees before the altar of the Blessed Virgin and Saint Stephen, drew forth that tooth, and with great reverence and confidence by which deafness was healed: inserted it into his ears, and in ^a moment recovered his hearing, so that he testified he had never heard more perfectly than before.

[35] There is ^a monastery among the Poitevins which they call Fontcreuse (Fontcaude in Latin). A portion of the table in Poitou preserved from fire, Its Procurator, while attending the general chapter at which the solemnity of the Translation was decreed, obtained from the General Prior, by lengthy prayers, ^a small portion of the table which Stephen had used at Muret. But the chest in which it was afterwards kept was entirely consumed by an accidental fire, and the other things in it were utterly destroyed, except for that small piece of wood and the linen in which it was wrapped. It therefore began to be held in veneration, and by the water in which it had been dipped health-giving against diseases: very many diseases were cured; the Procurator of that monastery himself drove away the fevers from which he was suffering by drinking that water.

[36] The Grandmontine Order celebrates the feast of Saint Stephen on February 8 with the first-class double Office, the solemnity being extended for an octave. His feast February 8. On that day Ferrari makes mention of him in his general Catalogue of Saints with these words: "At Limoges, Saint Stephen, Abbot of Grandmont." He is venerated also in the Church of Limoges, as is clear from its Breviary printed in the year 1626, with the double Office, on the same day.

[37] Several calendars have him assigned to the Ides of February: Peter of Equilino, Book 3, chapter 120, and Saussay in the Gallican Martyrology, with ^a lengthy eulogy. Others more briefly; as Maurolycus: "In the woodland of the territory of Limoges, on Mount Muret, of Stephen the Abbot, founder of the Grandmontine Order, in the year 1076." Molanus in the supplement to Usuard, and Wion in the Benedictine Martyrology: in some authorities February 13. "On the same day, the deposition of Stephen the Hermit, who was the devout founder of Grandmont." Hermann Greven in his additions to Usuard: "Of Stephen, Deacon and Confessor, who began the Grandmontine Order about the year 1076, and being strict with himself but kind to his subjects, governed it, and full of good works, rested in peace." Of him on that day also make mention the manuscript Florarium, Menard, Dorgany, Canisius, and — who had previously placed him on the eighth — Ferrari.

[38] But the feast of the Translation, as said before, other celebrations. is kept on June 25; that of the Canonization on August 30.

LIFE

by Gerard, Prior of Grandmont. Transcribed from an ancient codex by Pierre-Francois Chifflet, of the Society of Jesus.

Stephen, Founder of the Grandmontine Order in Gaul (Saint)

BHL Number: 7910

By Gerard, from manuscripts.

CHAPTER I

The Life of Saint Stephen in the World and in the Hermitage.

[1] There was in the regions of Auvergne ^a certain nobleman named Stephen, lord of Thiers; whose wife was called Candida; to whom by divine appointment ^a son was born, who remained always ^a virgin, and, as ^a sign of the crown which he merited, was called Stephen after his father's name. Stephen, ^a nobleman, His parents, having educated him with diligent care in the manner of the nobility, when he had reached the age of understanding, gave him over to learn letters, instructed in letters, loving him all the more dearly as the boy began to show himself of more elegant form and good disposition.

[2] At the age of twelve he is led to Bari by his father: As the boy therefore grew and made more and more progress in the holy knowledge of letters — and meanwhile the body of Saint Nicholas having been translated from the city of Myra to the city called Bari — the aforesaid nobleman Stephen, divinely inspired, proceeding thither with many others for prayer, took with him his son Stephen, the Lord so ordaining, because he loved him above all things and therefore could not be without him.

[3] Whence, when he was returning happily through the city of Benevento after completing his prayers, the sick boy commended to Saint Milo, Archbishop of Benevento, the same boy, offered to God who receives little ones, fell ill. At that time Blessed Milo governed the archbishopric of the aforesaid city, known to this man of whom we speak from his youth in the regions of Auvergne, whence he had his family. To this Archbishop the aforesaid nobleman commended his son, that he should take care of his illness and, if he survived, should educate him; for the boy Stephen was already twelve years old. For the Almighty Father willed that the boy should begin to serve Him at the same age at which His own Son was led to the temple by His parents according to the flesh; and just as the boy Jesus remained in Jerusalem, so this boy was to remain on the journey, by God's disposition. And so the aforesaid nobleman, deprived of his dear pledge, returned desolate and sorrowful to his own lands. He soon recovers: But after ^a few days, by the working of Divine clemency, the boy was restored to health, and, as though forgetful of his father and his homeland, he was cheerful and joyful in ^a foreign land. Whence the Archbishop, like ^a devoted father and faithful teacher, with whom he remained for twelve years, he stays with him for twelve years: taught him goodness and discipline and knowledge with the greatest diligence; and when the boy was free from his studies, while the Archbishop was conducting the hearings of his diocese, he had him stand at his feet.

[4] Stephen, therefore, passing beyond the bounds of boyhood, after the Archbishop's death entered Rome, and remained for four years with ^a certain Cardinal of the Holy Roman Church, he lives in Rome for four years: and very frequently heard Catholic men disputing about the various practices of different religious orders and the dispensations of the entire Church. And having been instructed concerning the aforesaid matters, he most devoutly petitioned the Roman Pontiff, to whom he was well known, that he might be permitted to observe somewhere, for the remission of his sins, the manner of life which he had learned to observe in Calabria — he obtains from the Pope the faculty to establish an Order: that of ^a certain religious congregation walking in the right way and living in the cloister without private property, and keeping obedience, the restorer of the human race, to the best of their powers in all things, and crucifying the world to themselves and themselves to the world, and glorying in the Cross of the Lord. To him the Vicar of Christ granted what he asked, and enjoined upon him all the good that he should do as ^a penance and as ^a reward of virtues.

[5] And departing from the Roman Curia he returned to Thiers. But making only ^a brief stay there, he secretly left alone from his parents, brothers, and kinsmen, who rejoiced greatly at his return, and came, with Christ as his guide, into Aquitaine, to ^a wooded mountain he withdraws to Mount Muret: not far distant from the city of Limoges, which is called Muret: where, having made ^a small hut of branches, in the year of the Lord 1076, being in his thirtieth year, he devotes himself to God: he promised to serve God in the Catholic faith; and with ^a certain ring, which he possessed from all the substance of the world, he espoused himself, ^a most chaste Virgin, to Christ: and there, in continuous fasts and prayers, serving God day and night, never returning to the world, he completed fifty years, knowing that for those who seek and love God the frequenting of men and the abundance of things are harmful, he lives there fifty years, while poverty and solitude are useful — as is the land of the solitude of the aforesaid Mount Muret, wild and barren, in ^a harsh place, and almost at all times wintry, unaccustomed to men, accustomed to beasts, offering affliction of the body and promising rest of the mind.

[6] For from the day of his conversion, his food was bread and water, and occasionally ^a small gruel of wheat flour, on ^a hard and scanty diet. which, less palatable than other gruels of other flours, serves the needs of necessity, not of pleasure. Only in old age, from the thirtieth year of his conversion, did he use ^a little wine on account of his stomach, which the dryness and scarcity of food had excessively contracted. Nevertheless, he imposed the rule of his austerity and the measure of his own capacity on no one; but just as he had begun, he was indeed cruel and severe to himself, but kind and far more moderate to others: for he knew that according to the grace bestowed on each from heaven, one is stronger than another, and we are not all capable of all things.

continually commended in the sermons which he delivered to the people. Fremon adds that Stephen had wished to join them even earlier, had Milo not prevented it.

CHAPTER II

The Death of Saint Stephen and His Sanctity Proclaimed by Miracles.

[7] And when two Cardinal Legates, sent into Gaul, had visited him in the solitude of Muret and had diligently inquired into his manner of life, on the eighth day after their departure, Saint Stephen is visited by two Cardinals: he foreknows his death: on the day before the Nones of February, being troubled by no pain, he devoted himself entirely to the instruction of his disciples and to prayer: for he knew through the Holy Spirit that the day of his death was drawing near. When they asked how they would live after his death without temporal resources, he replied: "I leave you God alone, to whom all things belong, for whose love you have equally left all things and your very selves. If, loving poverty, you steadfastly cleave to Him, he exhorts his followers to poverty: and do not turn aside from the way of truth, He Himself, according to His providence by which He wondrously governs all things, will bestow upon you what He knows to be expedient."

[8] And on the fifth day, seized by pain, he was carried into the oratory; and when Mass was finished, after the sacred anointing and the reception of the Body and Blood of the Lord, fortified by viaticum and anointing, with the Brothers weeping and chanting Psalms, in the eightieth year of his age, in the order of the diaconate, on Friday, the sixth day before the Ides of February, saying, he dies on February 8, ^a Friday. "Into Thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit," he happily departed to the Lord.

[9] When Father Stephen had died, soon the monks of Saint Augustine from the nearby Provostry of Ambazac, together with the Chaplain of that place and ^a great multitude of the people, knocked at the door of the cell house of Muret, crying out with sorrow and saying: "Good men, good men, do not conceal from us the death of Lord Stephen, your Father. Truly we know, truly we know, that the beloved Father is dead." But the porter, hearing this, and wishing to keep them from the burial, his death revealed to those absent, so that they might celebrate the obsequies of so great ^a funeral worthily and most devoutly without tumult, said to them as if consoling: "What is this that you say, that he is dead? Indeed we believe he is much better than usual." To whom the priest who had come with the monks and the people said: "We know well that he is dead. For in our village ^a certain boy, just now at the point of death, by ^a dying boy, who had seen ^a mystical ladder and Angels, had lost his speech from yesterday and the day before; and when he was being watched by his mother as she awaited his passing, he suddenly burst forth with these words: 'I see,' he said, 'a most brilliant ladder, one end of which touches heaven, the other touches Muret; and many Angels descend by it to lead the soul of Lord Stephen, most pleasing to God, to glory'; adding: 'Now I hear bells ringing on every side.' And this is ^a sign to you who also predicted his own death: that I speak to you the truth, for I shall now die, and shall speak with you no more; but I shall ascend with the most holy Father and the multitude of Angels." Having said these things, he expired. O happy vision! And who more fittingly ought to have borne witness to the Virgin than ^a virgin? For both were virgins, both the faithful servant and the boy who saw the vision and reported it.

[10] For by ^a wondrous dispensation of God, his death was made known on the same day at the city of Tours and at Versalau: likewise in other very remote places: which two places are so far distant from each other and from Muret that, unless it had happened miraculously, the death of this athlete of Christ could in no way have become known on the same day.

[11] On the following night he appeared in ^a vision to ^a certain Canon, ^a familiar of his, adorned in ^a rosy garment. Nor is it surprising that it was rosy, since he had been ^a Martyr of Christ he appears to ^a Canon by agreement: while he lived in this present world. Which Canon indeed, upon awaking, understood that he had paid the debt of death, and quickly rising, he performed the entire divine office for the commendation of his soul. For in mutual charity the two had said to each other: whichever of them should live longer would celebrate the obsequies for the other.

[12] At the time when Lupardus was ravaging the land of Limoges with ^a multitude of malefactors, and to two captives, whom he frees: two men were captured: who, praying to God in prison that He would deign to free them through the merits of Saint Stephen from the hands of their enemies, Blessed Stephen appeared to them, radiant, saying to them: "Rise, fear not, and follow me," leading them with him in the sight of all — the guide of two men among the enemies — and no one harmed either of them, nor was able to harm them.

[13] And on ^a certain day, when Brother Hugh Lacerta, ^a disciple of Saint Stephen, had come to the house of Muret and had found the priest of the said house alone with his minister, preparing himself for the office of Mass in the oratory, he appears to Blessed Hugh, in the garb of ^a Deacon ministering to the priest, rising from prayer and lifting his eyes to the altar and the ministers of the altar, he suddenly saw Saint Stephen clothed in Levitical vestments and shining, ministering at the altar and to the priest with all devotion, as ^a Deacon. At this sight the man of God Hugh was made joyful, was bathed in tears, and was illuminated by the supreme light. To whom, when Mass was finished, Saint Stephen, turning with ^a cheerful countenance and smiling, extended his palms; from which extension of his hands we believe that Saint Stephen called his disciple to the heavenly kingdom, and calls him to heaven. for after ^a few days he happily departed to Christ.

CHAPTER III

The Poverty, Piety, Penance, and Judgment Concerning His Institute of Saint Stephen.

[14] Furthermore, if anyone should wish to know whence even that slender sustenance by which the body of Stephen, the athlete of Christ, was maintained, was available to him — especially in the first year of his conversion, when, lacking human solace, he was alone in the wilderness — let him recall to mind how Obadiah nourished the prophets of the Lord, hidden in ^a cave, with bread and water for the love of God: Saint Stephen sustained his whole life by voluntary alms, and let him know that in like manner the charity of the neighboring inhabitants, by Divine inspiration alone, brought necessities to this servant of God. He who also sent ^a meal to Daniel shut up in the lions' den through Habakkuk; who freed Elijah from the distress of hunger through the ministry of ^a raven and ^a widow; who daily gives food to the beasts of burden and to the young ravens that call upon Him — He could not forget ^a man of such great faith, whom He had hidden in the secret of His countenance from the disturbance of men, that He might love him. Nor does he hunger overmuch for the bread of men who frequently eats the bread of Angels. Intent therefore upon heavenly things alone, he abundantly received the nourishment of the body from the devotion of the faithful, but the refreshment of the mind and the anointing of the spirit from the gift of divine contemplation.

[15] For how could he not taste how sweet the Lord is, and not receive the droppings of His sweetness, devoted to contemplation, he who by chastising his body and bringing it into subjection through strict abstinence wore it down; who also went armed with an iron coat of mail against the snares of the flesh and the wantonness of the mind clad in an iron coat of mail until, his entire body having been dried out, he obtained ^a complete victory over himself? To the summit of which extraordinary perfection was added so great ^a scarcity of clothing and such hardness of bed that to all who beheld the capacities of the human condition, it seemed to exceed the powers of men. For the garments in which he was clothed over the coat of mail and the same clothing in winter and summer: were at no time diminished or increased, but in winter and summer they were always equal and the same for repelling cold and heat alike.

[16] His bed, moreover, upon which after the excessive vexation and weariness of his flesh he would retire for ^a little rest, was so hard and so contrary to repose that one sleeping in it could be tormented, not refreshed. what manner of bed? For it was made of wooden boards joined together in the ground after the manner of ^a sepulchre, lacking all bedding and all covering, except for that iron tunic which he always wore upon his bare flesh, and the coarsest garment in which he remained clothed over it. This he brought with him when he came to bed, and this he carried back with him when he rose from bed, being sparing in food, sparing in bed, and sparing in sleep.

[17] For apart from the regular obligations of the ecclesiastical office — namely the Office of the Day, and of the Blessed Mary, and of the Faithful Departed — from the first day on which he came into the wilderness until the last day of his life, he most devoutly celebrated daily and nightly the Office of the Holy Trinity with nine lessons long prayers, and the canonical hours. He so loved psalmody and familiar prayers, and possessed so abundantly the grace of that most excellent contemplation in which God is better known, that now rapt by the sweetness of the one, now held by the occupation of the other, he frequently went without bodily food for two or three days. he sometimes defers these for the sake of charity, But if, because of conversation with those whom he could not in charity neglect, he sometimes did not fulfill at the appointed hours or times what he was accustomed to do or say in prayer, they could indeed be deferred, but not omitted. he never omits them: For after those who had come departed from him, at whatever hour it then was, before he ate or slept, he restored with all devotion everything of his customary prayers which he had necessarily interrupted. Whence for the most part he took no food until the next day, ^a true imitator of the disciples of Christ, who on account of those coming and going had no opportunity to eat.

[18] For indeed, because ^a lamp once lit cannot be hidden under ^a bushel, the report of his sanctity was spread far and wide. Mark 6:31 Therefore many came to him from every quarter, asked of what order he was, small and great; among whom, by the dispensation of Divine goodness, at the end of his life two most eminent Cardinals sent by the Supreme Pontiff into Gaul came, so that Christ's servant Stephen — because he had received from the Apostolic Vicar, at the beginning of his purpose of living well, the command to do so, as has been said — might obtain from the Apostolic men, Cardinals and Vicars of Christ, testimony of his sanctity. Which servant of Christ, when asked by them whether he was ^a Canon, or ^a monk, or ^a hermit, after the example of Saint John the Baptist denied that he was, lest he should seem proud in the eyes of men, although he could most truly have professed all of these concerning himself. For just as it is said of John, when the Jews asked him who he was, or what he said of himself, when he replied that he was neither the Christ, nor Elijah, nor ^a prophet, he himself said, "I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness"; similarly these two Legates asked Blessed Stephen, saying: "What then do you say of yourself, since you confess that you are neither ^a Canon, nor ^a monk, nor ^a hermit, by which orders the entire life of Religious is sustained?"

[19] To whom the Legates — since he was always prepared to give an account to everyone who asked — he replied most humbly, like John the Baptist: "When we wished to depart from this deceitful world, with the grace of Christ leading us, he acknowledges that his institute was approved by the Pontiff, we received our penance from the Roman Pontiff as best we could, and with his command and under obedience, for the remission of our sins, we proposed to follow this way of poverty and abjection; even if we cannot, by reason of our frailty, imitate the holy and praiseworthy hermits whom we read to have devoted themselves to Divine contemplation throughout the entire week without bodily food; nevertheless, because we have turned aside somewhat from the public road and follow, as best we can, the Brothers who serve God in Calabria, at the Last Judgment, when Christ shall come to judge the living and the dead, we await His mercy. And behold, we do not use the garb of monks and canons, about which you ask, he professes himself to be neither ^a Canon, nor ^a monk, nor ^a hermit. as you see, since we do not arrogate to ourselves the titles of such great sanctity: for the institution of the Canons has the power, after the example of the Apostles, of binding and loosing. Moreover, we do not use the name of monks, who have received the name of sanctity or the title of singularity: among whom those are specially called monks who take care of themselves and think of nothing else except God alone. The life of hermits, indeed, we are by no means able to imitate, because in this especially consists the life of all hermits: to avoid the tumults of the world and to remain in their cells, so that they may devote themselves to prayer and silence."

[20] The penance which — by keeping vigil, fasting, subjecting his flesh to his spirit all day long, enduring cold and heat, carrying the Cross of the Lord in his heart, and by charity showing himself affable and cheerful to all who were in need — his free will, with the grace of God going before, constant in penances, and the sweet yoke of the Lord and His light burden, had rendered so easy for the most holy man Stephen of every way praiseworthy life, that he feared to endure no labor. Nor did he ever say what is frequently said by many: "I am wearied by vigils," or "by fasts," and tireless, or "I am constrained by cold," or "my bed last night was hard." But how great was the perfection of this, whoever attentively considers himself can understand. The number, moreover, of the genuflections of the venerable Father which, [most frequently prostrating himself on the ground, he develops calluses, and his nose becomes crooked;] kissing the ground and striking it with his forehead and nose, he humbly performed, we cannot know; which indeed, on account of their most frequent repetition, we believe even he himself did not know. We know that on his hands and knees,

by the constancy of those genuflections, he had developed calluses after the manner of ^a camel, and had bent his nose crooked.

CHAPTER IV

The Chastity of Saint Stephen, and His Charity Toward the Needy and the Sick.

[21] The fragrance of ^a wondrous odor, which those who spoke with him and stood about him perceived to proceed from him, he breathes forth ^a sweet odor, testified that the Author of all sweetness rested in him. Nevertheless, as far as we are given to understand, it was ^a reward by which his most perfect virginity and the humility of his soul, which were preeminent in him, were honored even in this life while he lived. For among his other virtues there was in him an inviolate virginity, on account of his undefiled virginity and humility: which Christ, the guardian and watchful defender of His temple, permitted no stain to violate: as he himself confessed to certain of his disciples, whose number had already grown, saying: "Assuredly at no time has any motion of lust shaken my flesh or my spirit; but this is to me without doubt ^a reason for greater fear. Virginity perishes more quickly by any emotion of pride than by fornication."

[22] Furthermore, the stability of his religious life preserved all virtues intact in him, since for no reason did he go forth from his cell. a lover of his cell and of silence: Indeed, he avoided going out even through the other door of his oratory, as though he had vowed to guard his eyes from wandering, and to prepare in himself ^a cloister and ^a tabernacle for the Lord, unwilling to let go of the Bridegroom once he had found Him, because he had long sought Him by the narrow way.

[23] How prudently and how carefully he taught his disciples by the living voice, and by the maxims and examples of the Saints, concerning the observance of religion, the maturity of morals, and all things that pertain to the salvation of the soul, he instructs all in virtue — because it is written in his maxims and the teachings of his counsels, we pass over in silence. But whenever he found someone willing to hear the word of God, neither for the sake of food nor sleep, nor cold nor heat, did he hold him back from this work of Christ. Thus, giving to different persons different counsels of salvation, tirelessly: taking care that he might be heard more attentively in his words, introducing fitting parables, as though holding forth honey enclosed in the comb.

[24] Nor did he seek to mortify the bodies of his disciples, but their vices. Whence, as ^a faithful and prudent steward, whom the Lord has set over His household, in matters of food and clothing and the other necessities of human frailty, he provides for the needs of his followers, he indulged them with ^a fair balance: this alone he required of them, that, loving God above all things, they might truly say to Him: "For Thy sake we are put to death all the day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter," the venerable Father saying to the Brothers: "Know for certain that in this wilderness I have completed nearly fifty years, exhorting them to mortification and trust, of which some have passed in great want, others in great abundance; but Divine goodness has always bestowed all things upon me in due measure, so that in time of want nothing necessary was lacking, nor in abundance did anything superfluous remain. The same will happen to you, if you avoid all that is superfluous; by his own example: for necessities condemn no one: only persevere in the Rule drawn by me from the Gospel."

[25] Toward his disciples, with the greatest discretion, the lovable Father was so benevolent and merciful he provides for them more generously when food is dearer: that in time of scarcity he administered bread together with other victuals more abundantly than usual to his disciples, adding this reason for his provision: "When bread begins to be more valued as provisions run short, then the desire to eat usually increases in men: whence it is necessary to administer food more generously at that time to those confined in the prison of Christ, so that they may exult and bless the name of the Lord."

[26] After, moreover, by God's disposition, the number of his disciples had grown, he reads at table, sitting on the ground: he was made not as one of them among them, but less than all of them. For as is the custom of religious life, while they sat at table in the refectory, he humbly sat upon the ground, reading the Passions of the Saints or the Lives of the Fathers, or some other edifying scripture; so that while taking the nourishment of their bodies, they might remember that saying: "Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God." Matthew 4:4 For he had read and committed to memory: "The greater you are, humble yourself in all things, and you shall find grace before God." Ecclesiasticus 3:20 And that: "Whoever wishes to be the greatest among you shall be the servant of all." Mark 10:43 And reclining in the lowest place among the others, he did not wish any of his disciples to rise to meet him, holding the place of ^a minister in person and in garb.

[27] And when the multitude of noble men who had come to hear him departed as evening drew on, he cannot be torn from the poor and the sick, as from Christ: while the crowd of the needy remained with him, he kissed the paralytic as brothers, replying to his disciples who admonished him to come away, since he was weary: "Now that Christ has come, you tell me to depart — I who have spent the day today with the powers of this world? Far be such ^a disgrace from me, that I should not go to meet Christ." Whence the prerogative of grace from that Father of lights, from whom is every good gift and every perfect gift, the Father Saint Stephen, so lovable to God and men, had so effectually received that, especially to his disciples, he discerns the secrets of hearts: he would most aptly tell what they were thinking and the temptations which they suffered from the devil; and how they should manfully resist evil thoughts and importunate temptations, as ^a devoted Father and one well concerned for their salvation, he prudently instructed them.

[28] He also instructed his disciples in many ways as to how they should respond to those who inquired about their way of life, saying to them: "Brothers, do not wonder if certain people disagree in their ways with your life: since you depart from what they hold, what he wished to be said about his Rule? and you do not wish to follow them in what they do" — not wishing mention to be made through them to critics of his regular institutions, so that no one might doubt about their regular life, since it was holy.

CHAPTER V

The Miracles, Admonitions, and Memory of Death of Saint Stephen.

[29] Frequently also, when the weakness of his disciples demanded it, lest they be submerged by the waves of this great and

spacious sea of the world, he aided them with his prayers. For his prayers were of such power before God he rescues many from danger by his prayers: that, with God's cooperation, men who had been captured could be freed from the very jaws of demons and the wicked machinations of men. That this may be made clear, let us here briefly narrate two of the many miracles which the Lord deigned to work through his prayer. A certain knight, then, was held guilty of ^a certain crime, who, coming to the man of God and speaking as one of the foolish, said: "I beseech you, servant of God, do not pray to the Lord for me, because I so love ^a certain sin to which I cling that I am by no means willing to hate or abandon it; but I fear what may happen to me if your charity should pray for me. a knight, converted by his praying for him against his will: Wherefore I ask that you not assist me in this matter. Help others, then, with your prayers, but not me at all." Having said this, the foolish knight departed. Hearing this, the faithful athlete of Christ, inflamed by the fire of charity, remained sorrowful and anxious, and entering the chapter house, having disclosed with tears the speech of the foolish knight, and himself with the Brothers praying for him without ceasing to the Lord, the sinner returned from the aforesaid folly, begging pardon and renouncing his iniquity from his heart, and vehemently sought the support of prayers from the said servant of God, that he might be able to rise from his sin. In which deed it is recognized how great was the charity of him who did not cease to pour forth prayers with tears to the Lord until he led the erring neighbor back to the way of truth.

[30] There is also another most illustrious work of his faith, not unlike this one. For when it had been reported to the holy man — the Brothers complaining and grieving — captured by robbers, that ^a certain man, ^a familiar of theirs, quite wealthy, while bringing provisions to them in the wilderness, had been betrayed by his treacherous host to two robbers who held him bound in caves so that he might ransom himself — the servant of Christ said to the Brothers: "I know, for it is manifest to Him, where the man is and how he fares; nevertheless, with bare feet let us go into the oratory, and let us implore the aid of the glorious Virgin Mother of the Lord, in whose service the man was captured. having implored the help of the Mother of God, There is no prison and no place from which she cannot restore him to us without delay." And when this had been done, behold, on the following day at dawn the treacherous host and the two robbers, bound in chains, stood knocking at the door of the cell of Muret, together with the man whom they had captured, now unbound and free. The Brother porter, seeing them, he obtains his release: secretly informed the spiritual Father, who at that very hour, as was his custom, was instructing the disciples in chapter. But the servant of Christ, dissembling the joy of his mind in his countenance, by no means interrupted the word of God which he had begun, giving the Brothers an example that they should glory not in miracles but in God alone. And then, when the sermon was completed, he released the thieves and the traitor from the chains with which they were bound and allowed them to depart safe and free.

[31] Blessed Stephen was ^a voluntary exile, after the example of Abraham, going forth from his land and from his kindred, he generously assists the poor, generous in alms, assiduous in vigils, devout in prayer, perfect in charity, committing his hope to God and setting nothing before the love of God; maintaining temperance in prosperity and patience in adversity: from whom no poor person ever departed empty; perpetually turning over in his mind what God says in the Gospel: "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy." Matthew 5:7 And that: "Give alms, and behold, all things are clean unto you"; because just as water extinguishes fire, so alms extinguish sin; and of Blessed Job it is read: "His door lay open to every comer." Luke 11:41 Ecclesiasticus 3:33 And thus he himself could cry out with Blessed Job in ^a free voice: "My door was open to the traveler." Job 31:32 He was ^a foot to the lame and an eye to the blind, ^a father of orphans and ^a consoler of widows. Those things, moreover, which he received from the parish itself, he spent on the poor of that same parish where he dwelt, not on strangers, saying: especially to the local inhabitants: "We have come to this place in the stead of these poor people from elsewhere, receiving the alms due to them: which, if we can, it is fitting to return to them."

[32] But after reading, in which he was supremely occupied, knowing that by reading the understanding is increased and intelligence bestowed — because reading teaches what is to be avoided — he sowed virtues among the people, words overflowing with the fruit of faith, seasoned with ^a sufficient salt of discretion, as though infused with aromatic ointments; he exhorts all to virtue: insisting, according to the Apostle, in season and out of season, reproving, beseeching, and rebuking, with all patience and teaching; and after the manner of Blessed John the Baptist preaching in the wilderness, he reproved the sinners who came to him for their sins, applying to them worthy remedies of discourse, and where it was salutary showing the plaster of confession against the wounds of the Enemy. But when he saw ^a sinner trembling, he would say to him: "My brother, do not be afraid; you cannot overcome God, so as to be more able to sin than He to forgive. Certainly the Apostle Peter had not yet perfectly considered the wiles of the devil when he asked Christ whether he should forgive ^a brother sinning seven times. But Jesus multiplied the pardon, not attending to the ignorance of His disciple."

[33] Such things he said to the penitent; to the obstinate and those who defended themselves he was strict and severe, yet never departing from moderation; using rigor in the examination of justice, and mercy in the definition of the sentence; and the breaches of discipline and transgressions of his disciples from his right rule he reproved gently, he corrects the faults of his followers: and bore with them patiently as much as was due and fitting. And there was in him ^a wonderful discretion in all his works, and an unchangeable love toward all, consoling the sorrowful and showing what was to be done, urging his subjects with eager zeal toward eternal life; for he often said to his subjects: "Therefore you ought to have left behind what you possessed outwardly, so that you might clearly see what you are inwardly, by no means remaining here, but passing on by dying to another place. Whence I see less reason why you should wish for more when some sort of sustenance suffices. Love poverty, therefore; he commends poverty. always having fear concerning your substance, lest you be unable to spend it well according to the Lord's will. But of those things which you do not have, you are secure, because you will not render an account for them."

[34] But this does not nullify spiritual poverty, if someone desires that by which he may serve God alone, Alms, how they are to be received. and is prepared to do injury to no one for the sake of the same reputation. The Patriarch Jacob asked for the necessities of sustenance: bread to eat and clothing to put on. Nevertheless, the servant of Christ by no means rejected the alms of anyone, even those given by the poor. Indeed, he maintained that they ought to be accepted more readily, saying to any one of the Brothers these words: "Do you not see what poverty instructs you to do? He wishes to gain Christ with you, most lovingly persuading you, because he stretches out his arms in giving alms, and undoubtedly looks for his reward from another. Accept his gift, therefore, with joy; and immediately, if you can, return to him more abundantly; advising him to praise God, because the patrimony entrusted to God is neither seized by the state, nor invaded by the treasury, nor overturned by any forensic litigation."

[35] He himself also, of all the good things he had done, attributed nothing to his own merits, nor ever presumed anything in his own strength; but always referring all his work to God, he implored His aid in all his actions, and gave ^a salutary example from his own good conduct, being made ^a pattern for the flock from his heart, he shines before others by his example: knowing that what anyone teaches is not worthy of praise unless he has joined deeds to words; but rather, if he does what he teaches, it is held more glorious for him. Therefore the Father was lovable to God and men, doing what he taught and teaching what he did, nor producing one thing with his mouth while revolving another in his heart; but what he taught by mouth he confirmed by deed, after the example of the Apostle who says: "I chastise my body and bring it into subjection, lest perhaps after preaching to others, I myself should be found reprobate." 1 Corinthians 9:27 With the greatest goodness also he governed his subjects, and with the greatest severity he mastered himself.

[36] Furthermore, having thus set forth the purpose of his sanctity, Saint Stephen by persevering showed himself to be ^a future vessel of election, useful to God, prepared for every good work. And in all his conduct, shining like the Morning Star among the stars, he glowed with splendor, robust in virtue; he so exercised himself as though he were always beginning, and so conducted himself as though he were about to die every day. always mindful of death, For the last day was always before his eyes, and his mind always meditated on heavenly things; he feared the dangers of others as his own, and judged the falls of others to be his own; he always contemplated the end of his life; devoting himself to vigils, prayers, sighs, groans, tears, and preparing himself for it, genuflections, fasts, and alms, he studiously flourished in the spiritual life and salutary doctrine, and gave forth ^a sweet odor; on the wings of holy contemplation he frequently flew upward, and by ardent desire he dwelt in the heavens. Moreover, he continually strove to repel the invisible enemy by prayers, fighting with his mouth, not with ^a sword, with prayers, not with weapons. And on all days and at all hours of the day he besought protection, that after the light of this world he might be worthy to come to the prize. resisting the devil, For the enemy of the human race could not find in him anything that he might deceive by fraud or darken by pretense: for whatever good things he had seized upon in the beginning, he suffered himself to be entangled by no affairs until the end of his life; but preserving his purpose whole and sound, he changed in no respect the rule he had begun, carrying the Cross of the Lord in mind and body. steadfast in good. He was anxious for one thing above all: to lead sinners back to the way of truth, wishing to benefit all and to harm none. He strove to show himself ^a sanctified vessel, so that he might have the Lord as an inhabitant in the dwelling of his mind, and run after Him in the odor of His ointments; and when the contest of his life was ended, to appear before His face. Come, then, dearest ones, let us most devoutly entreat that by the imitation and prayers of so great ^a Father, He may grant us to advance in such ^a way that we may deserve to be partakers of his perpetual felicity.

TRANSLATION OF SAINT STEPHEN.

Stephen, Founder of the Grandmontine Order in Gaul (Saint)

[1] When the body of the most holy Stephen had been given to burial, the Brothers from their convent concordantly elected one of their number, Under the second Prior, Peter, ^a holy man, namely Peter of Limoges, as Prior and spiritual Father. He had previously been ^a venerable priest in the world, and afterwards, in the religious life, being ^a zealous follower of the paternal tradition and of the vow which he had made, he was dear and lovable to God and men. Under his governance, as the flock of the Lord grew in numbers, the monks of the village of Ambazac, of the Abbey of Saint Augustine of Limoges, began to bring ^a claim against the place of Muret, in which the Brothers served the Grandmontines harassed by other monks, and had long served with their most holy Father. But those who would rather give up their cloak to one who took their tunic than have anything by which they might be drawn to litigation and the custom of disputes, they seek another place: took care to seek diligently another place where they might suitably establish the head of their religious order and serve God sincerely, freely, and quietly.

[2] When therefore various places had been diligently traversed by the Brothers, yet none found suitable, while all pray together at Mass, at length, divinely illuminated, they all unanimously entered upon ^a wholesome plan: namely, that the Prior should celebrate Mass with all humility and devotion, and together with all the Brothers should supplicate the Lord with heartfelt affection, that He might mercifully advise them and not delay to indicate what they were asking. O wondrous clemency of God, and worthy to be commended to perpetual memory! Envy could perhaps contrive ^a charge against the servants of God; but whence it wished to oppress them, thence it more greatly expanded them. For the immense and ineffable providence of the heavenly dispensation had prepared for them from the foundation of the world ^a place more spacious and more suitable both in situation and in name for the observance of ^a religious manner of life; the name of which place they also deserved to hear by ^a divine voice. For when the Prior, as had been agreed, was celebrating Mass, and the Agnus Dei had been sung three times, and both he and all the other Brothers were most ardently beseeching the Lord, ^a certain heavenly voice was heard saying: Grandmont is indicated by ^a heavenly voice: "At Grandmont, At Grandmont, At Grandmont." This most blessed voice indeed the Prior and several of the Brothers heard. When Mass was ended, the Prior asked the Brothers whether they had heard the heavenly voice. And when one of them immediately said, "I heard it saying three times, 'At Grandmont,'" and others likewise, all rejoiced and were consoled and strengthened abundantly, and eagerly strove to marvel at and praise the Giver of Divine goodness on account of the glorious happiness of the revelation. And because at Grandmont the soldiers of Christ were always going to fight against principalities and powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, lest they lose the things of heaven, fittingly was the name of that place heard there, where the victory which Christ won over the ancient enemy of the human race is celebrated daily.

[3] Proceeding therefore to the place discovered by Divine revelation, quite close to Muret, they built ^a church and houses to dwell in with all haste, at the command of the Lord, whose it was. they migrate there with the body of Saint Stephen: When these had been in some fashion put together in ^a humble style, they returned to Muret, where some of the Brothers had remained; and taking up the glorious body of the most holy Father, they translated it to Grandmont, and concealed it beneath the presbytery before the altar, with few knowing.

[4] It was afterwards translated on June 25: In the time, however, of Lord Bernard, the fifth Prior of Grandmont, when ^a general chapter had been assembled at Grandmont, the Translation of the body of the most blessed Stephen was celebrated on the day following the Nativity of the Precursor and Herald of the Lord and Savior; at which there was present ^a certain Brother named William, who was anxiously afflicted by an excessive deafness of both ears. When he heard that the Saint of God was being carried by the aforesaid Prior and by the entire convent from the cloister into the church, he quickly approached the sarcophagus, where he found the shoes of Saint Stephen; and taking them, a deaf man healed through his shoes: he began to put his fingers inside the shoes and to extract from them whatever he could find, and transferred it to his ears. And when he had done this for ^a long time, full of good faith and hope, he truly recovered the hearing which he had lost.

[5] The cloth also, in which the holy relics of his bones had been wrapped, the cloth in which the relics were wrapped cannot be burned: having been cast once and again and yet again into the fire by the priest who had wrapped them in ^a more decent cloth, could not be burned. And likewise ^a certain disciple of Saint Stephen, who had lost the sight of his eyes, prostrating himself and praying at his sepulchre, recovered his former sight.

[6] When Raymond de Plantadis, ^a knight, had lost the use of half his body through ^a paralytic disease, he had himself carried to Grandmont: a blind man recovers his sight at the relics: and being almost entirely carried to the church by ^a certain son of his on one side and by the second Prior of Grandmont on the other, after he placed his feet upon the stone beneath which the body of Saint Stephen was buried before the altar, he cried out in ^a free voice, saying: "Leave me, do not help me; for in this place where I set my feet I have just now been made well. I tell you indeed a paralytic healed. that some Saint lies buried here, for the love and merits of whom God has bestowed health upon me."

REVELATION OF SAINT STEPHEN.

Stephen, Founder of the Grandmontine Order in Gaul (Saint)

BHL Number: 7911

By Gerard, from manuscripts.

[1] When the Order of Grandmont, long after the passing of the most blessed Stephen, Confessor of Christ, The elevation and canonization of Saint Stephen is sought from Clement III. had multiplied among the peoples in religion and sanctity by the bountiful grace of God, and persisted in great peace, charity, and honor, with no small prosperity, Gerard, the seventh Prior of Grandmont, having taken counsel with two hundred and twenty clerics and sixty lay Brothers assembled at Grandmont for the election of the said Prior, sent two Brothers with letters of many prelates and princes to obtain the elevation of Blessed Stephen the Confessor from Pope Clement III.

[2] Clement, having seen the letters of such great prelates and princes, took care to faithfully carry out the business of the elevation of the said Saint, by God's disposition, believing that if he could accomplish such ^a great work in his time, he would perpetually obtain ^a great reward from God through the merits of Blessed Stephen. And having taken counsel with the Brothers of his sacred college, the aforesaid Pope Clement III proceeded to the elevation of the said Saint Stephen in this manner: who, following an inquisition into miracles previously conducted, "Since our predecessor of good memory, Urban, having heard the report of the religious life and the praiseworthy purity of life by which Stephen of holy memory, the founder of the Order of Grandmont, had shone forth, and by such great testimonies of miracles almighty God had willed to declare his merits to the world, wished to entrust to the Legates whom he had dispatched to the regions of Gaul for the transaction of certain affairs of the Church ^a full investigation concerning these matters, so that from their testimony and that of other men to whom faith was undoubtedly to be given, at the request of the King of England, he might proceed to do what should seem fitting both for the advantage of the faithful and for the honor of that holy man, who had hitherto lain hidden like ^a gem in ^a dunghill; We also, by the testimony of our most dear son in Christ, Henry, the illustrious King of the English, and also of our venerable brothers the Cardinals and many other bishops, being more fully instructed concerning the life, he legitimately declares him ^a Saint: merits, and manner of living in which the oft-mentioned holy man is asserted to have flourished, and that Divine mercy willed to distinguish him by many signs of miracles, we have seen fit to entrust the execution of this matter to the judgment of our beloved son John, Cardinal Priest of the title of San Marco and Legate of the Apostolic See, commanding him by Apostolic letters that, proceeding to Grandmont, he should announce on our behalf that we have enrolled him among the Saints, henceforth to be numbered in the catalogue of Saints, and that we have decreed that through his merits the suffrages of the Redeemer should be sought together with the intercessions of the other Saints."

[3] His body is elevated. When therefore many archbishops, bishops, abbots, and religious men, and an innumerable multitude of people, had been convened by the said Legate at Grandmont together with the said Legate, the body of the most blessed Stephen the Confessor was elevated with due honor from the place where it lay buried beneath the presbytery before the altar; with the people going before and following with hymns and praises it is escorted, then and there ^a lame mute is healed: and honorably placed upon the altar of the church of Grandmont of the Blessed Virgin Mary. When therefore the Archbishop of Bourges, by the command of the said Lord Legate, was devoutly celebrating Mass in honor of the aforesaid Saint Stephen the Confessor, ^a certain boy who had been lame and mute from his mother's womb, and had withered hands, by the power of God and the merits of Saint Stephen began to speak and walk and to move his hands at will. one afflicted with ^a swelling of the neck:

[4] After whom ^a young man having so great ^a tumor on his neck that he could not turn his face in any direction except together with his whole body, nor look upward, because his chin remained glued and joined to his breast, having ^a withered hand: was entirely healed of the aforesaid tumor before Mass by the merits of the same Saint. And ^a certain girl who had ^a crooked and withered right hand from her mother's womb, coming with the others to Grandmont, while she prayed, obtained by the power of God and the merits of Saint Stephen her hand, which she had previously had withered and crooked, now extended and erect for making the sign of the cross, with her fingers separated from one another. And ^a certain man named Stephen, another blind man: of the village of Saint-Hilaire near the monastery of Benevento, who had been blind from birth, the only son of his widowed and very poor mother, by praying at the sepulchre of the same Saint Stephen, received his sight.

[5] A dead man is raised by the merits of Saint Stephen: At these miracles the church is filled with cries; the wonders of God are marveled at and extolled; the merits of Blessed Stephen are seen and praised. Among other innumerable miracles by which Divine mercy willed to distinguish Blessed Stephen, it happened that while the church of Grandmont was being built, ^a great stone carried aloft fell and struck Gerard, the master of the work, whom it crushed and killed. This Gerard indeed, at the tearful prayers of Lord Stephen of Lisiac, the fourth Prior of Grandmont, and of the Brothers praying at the sepulchre of Saint Stephen, was restored to his former life. likewise other miracles:

[6] And when ^a certain man of the territory of Poitiers was coming with his wife, named Petronilla, on the feast of that Saint to the Brothers of Bois-d'Aulonne, and his wife, falling from ^a beast of burden that had set down its foot carelessly, had expired; the said man crying out with tears, "Saint Stephen of God, help me; now let your goodness appear in restoring to me my wife"; by Divine command she herself replied: "Alas, my lord, were you anxious for me? Certainly I was well; I was much better off." Then the man, exulting, lifted her onto the beast, and with joy they reached their destination. another cured of sacred fire:

[7] Furthermore, ^a certain knight of the territory of Limoges, his foot afflicted by the disease of infernal fire, coming to the tomb of that holy man, carried by the hands of his men, praying and washing with water the stone beneath which the body of the said Saint Stephen was buried, and pouring the same water upon the ulcer, he immediately obtained the extinction of the fire, the healing of his foot, and the mitigation of his pain.

[8] And also ^a certain man named Reginald, of the same territory of Limoges, returning from ^a visit to the houses of Grandmont, a fire suppressed: Muret, and Plaigne, to his village, seeing that village in which he dwelt suddenly catch fire, by praying to God that through the merits of His servant Stephen He would free his house with all its furnishings from the fire,

obtained that the fire did not dare to harm even ^a single straw of his house.

[9] What shall I say? The blind are brought to the tomb of the same Saint and are illuminated, very many other miracles performed. the lame are brought and are cured, the mute and they are healed, the possessed and they are freed, the deranged and they are restored, the sick and they are healed, the dead and they are raised, the deaf and they are aided: of the multitude of which miracles let ^a few things suffice, lest the prolixity of words be burdensome to the hearers.

MIRACLES OF SAINT STEPHEN

from the French Life by Charles Fremon.

Stephen, Founder of the Grandmontine Order in Gaul (Saint)

From Charles Fremon.

[1] It is worth setting forth here some miracles of Saint Stephen published by Charles Fremon, linked to one another by no fixed order, but gathered piecemeal.

A certain Gerard, an inhabitant of ^a nearby village, came to Muret and reported to the Saint that his wife was ill at home, and that he had no means to support himself or her, since he had to attend her day and night and could therefore do no more work: wherefore he must abandon her Money given by Saint Stephen to ^a poor man is multiplied: if he himself wished to live. Stephen, pitying the man, admonished him not to abandon her, having promised the contrary when he entered into marriage: let him place his hope in the aid of God, who forsakes no one. At the same time he bestowed upon him bread and ^a silver coin, and promised that with it both his wife and his entire household would be sufficiently sustained. Gerard returned home cheerful, and while he showed his wife what he had received from Stephen, the coins were so multiplied in his hand that he could not retain them all in his hand, but many fell to the ground. Nor did that money fail him as long as his wife lived. Gerard himself thereafter both gave thanks to Stephen and offered at Muret coins from that divinely multiplied money, which were long carefully preserved in memory of the miracle.

[2] Boso, ^a nobleman, at Muret requested bread blessed on Holy Thursday: diseases cured by bread received from him, which, having been offered to him by Saint Stephen, he most reverently preserved; and afterwards he distributed portions of it to the sick, all of whom were restored to health. He widely publicized those miracles. The custom still flourishes that in the Grandmontine and other monasteries of the Order, on that day bread is blessed which was blessed on Holy Thursday: for the relief of the poor and the sick, which many others eagerly seek in competition.

[3] After the annual celebration of the Translation of Saint Stephen had been established in the year 1167, very many miracles occurred in various places. a house preserved from fire by his aid: When ^a great fire had broken out in the metropolitan city of Sens, and very many houses had already been reduced to ashes, ^a certain Genulphus, ^a Canon of the Cathedral Church, very devoted to Saint Stephen — as one who had already built ^a monastery for his Order from his own resources — shut himself in his house, and could not be prevailed upon by any prayers of friends and servants to leave, saying that he would prove how profitable it was to be devoted to the Grandmontine Order and the veneration of Saint Stephen; and that he confidently trusted that his dwelling would be preserved by the Saint's protection. So it happened; for when all the surrounding buildings had been devastated by fire, his house suffered no harm at all.

[4] At about the same time, Petronilla — as was narrated above in the history of the Revelation, number 6 — going with her husband to the Brothers of the House of Bois-d'Aulonne, having fallen from her mount and broken her neck, was recalled to life by the aid of Saint Stephen. Another matron at Limoges, especially devoted to the Brothers of Puy-Gibert, who bestowed many alms upon them, having fallen ill, when she felt herself gradually being brought to the end by the force of the disease, a dead woman raised so that she might receive the Sacraments: asked her son to see to her being fortified by the Sacraments. The boy summoned ^a priest, but returning home, he found his mother dead. Grieving, therefore, he spent the entire night in prayers. At dawn, when he approached his mother's bed, he found her alive, repeatedly asking that he not allow her to die without the protection of the Sacraments. The priest was summoned again and administered the Sacraments to her; she died shortly after, piously and peacefully.

[5] A nobleman from Gascony, captured and thrown into prison by William Gordon, turned to seeking the aid of Saint Stephen, whose assiduous devotee he was: he spent several nights in prayers. On ^a certain night the Saint appeared to him, freed him from his bonds, a captive freed, the Saint appearing: and bade him leap through the window into the moats of the fortress; thence he led him to the river Dordogne and placed him in ^a skiff found there by chance. In it he crossed the river, and came to the monastery of Vessiere while matins were being chanted: when these were finished, he related the prodigy and invited them to give thanks with him to God and their holy Father.

[6] At the time when the canonization of Saint Stephen was being celebrated, ^a procession was also arranged through the portico or cloister of the monastery: in which ^a nobleman, carrying the bier with others quartan fever healed; in which the relics were contained, by imploring the Saint's aid, was freed from the quartan fever from which he had long been suffering.

[7] Certain Normans, aroused by the fame of the miracles, returning from Rocamadour in Quercy, paralysis: where there is ^a church celebrated for its devotion to the Blessed Virgin, turned aside to Grandmont, both to venerate the Saint and to witness those sacred ceremonies of the apotheosis. Among them was ^a woman whose hand had long been loosed by paralysis; as soon as she touched the place where the relics were, it was restored to its former vigor.

[8] three given sight, ^a lame person healed, At the same time two boys — one received the power of walking, the other his sight; ^a girl received the sight of which she had been deprived for eight years; another girl likewise, from whose eyes, while she was praying, in the sight of all, scales fell which had previously been as hard as crystal. A boy also, wasted by consumptive fever, consumptive, was perfectly restored to health. A woman from the village of Montgay, Jeanne Burgeole, brought her son to the tomb of the Saint, maimed, and with his face dreadfully disfigured, his teeth and jaws so distorted maimed and distorted; that he could neither chew food nor speak properly: all of which bodily defects were corrected by the Saint's aid, at the mother's prayers.

[9] A poor inhabitant of the village of Ambazac had ^a son so deprived from birth of the use of his shins that he crept rather than walked. Encouraged by his neighbors he came with him to Grandmont, a boy deprived of the use of his legs, but with insufficiently firm confidence: wherefore when he had spent two or three days there in vain prayers, he returned home. His neighbors rebuked him for having cast aside hope at so slight ^a setback, and by their words prevailed upon him to bring his son back. He obeyed indeed in appearance, though his father lacked confidence, but secretly withdrawing, he abandoned the boy in the midst of the crowd of people, not at all confident that he would be healed. But contrary to his expectation it happened. Again and again the boy invoked Saint Stephen, as he was taught by passers-by; and he soon acquired the firmest gait, before the eyes of the entire people.

[10] a madman, A certain madman, brought there by his mother, recovered the use of his reason on the third day. A young man had been confined to his bed for an entire year by an incurable illness: a sick man, he heard of the miracles of Saint Stephen; he requested to be carried there, poured forth his prayers, and was immediately restored to his strength. A certain young man of Limoges, named Stephen, who had been deprived from birth of the use of his legs, one deprived of the use of his legs: obtained the use of his legs at the tomb of Saint Stephen: which event was so welcome to his parents that they voluntarily vowed that he would serve God for his entire life in the same Order.

[11] In the same city of Limoges, at the same time, the prayers of two sons poured forth to Saint Stephen recalled their dead father to life, a dead man raised: and they, as proof of so great ^a miracle, offered at Grandmont ^a shroud sent by their father. Another woman brought ^a wax candle the size of her son, two dying persons healed; to whom, when he was already breathing his last, ^a vow made by her to the Saint had brought salvation. The same befell another boy at Solignac, at his parents' prayers. a lame girl, A lame girl at Limoges could neither go to Grandmont, lacking the strength, nor had she the means to have herself carried there: with great hope she invoked the Saint in her own home and was immediately healed.

[12] The grandmother of that boy whom we said above, in number 4 of the history of the Revelation, was healed at Grandmont at the time of Mass, was afflicted by importunate deafness: she therefore bade her daughter, the same boy's mother, go with bare feet to the tomb of the Saint a deaf woman, and pray for her hearing to be restored. The daughter obeyed, and returning home found her mother completely well.

[13] Eight days after the celebration of the canonization, when the concourse of people to venerate the relics of the Saint was still immense, on the very day of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin, five miracles are recorded as having occurred there. five sick persons, A certain man also came at that time, proclaiming that he had been freed from ^a great debility by which, for more than ^a year, he had been so confined to his bed a debilitated man, that he could move neither foot nor hand — freed as soon as he vowed to come to the tomb of the Saint. On the day of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, ^a youth of twelve years a mute, was endowed at those same relics with the faculty of speech, of which he had hitherto been deprived.

[14] On the feast of Saint Michael, in the town of Egletons, in the midst of the busy market a dying man, sprinkled with water by the Saint appearing to him, which was then being held there, ^a certain Andrew, born in that same town, was seized by ^a sudden illness so violent that he was thought about to breathe his last. In his mind, since he could not in words, he invoked Saint Stephen and made vows to him; when suddenly he sees him coming to him in the form of an old man, clothed in garments whiter than snow, carrying in his hand ^a bowl full of water, with which he washed the sick man's body and wiped away all his illness, and at the same time suffused his soul with such pleasure that he seemed to himself already to be enjoying the delights of heaven. So he reported when he came to Grandmont to fulfill his vows. another freed from quinsy by the Saint appearing: A certain youth from the village of Aureil had for three days been seized by ^a fatal quinsy, so that he could neither speak nor eat, and could scarcely even draw breath. His widowed mother made ^a vow to Saint Stephen for her son's recovery, on that same feast of Saint Michael. Saint Stephen immediately appeared in the garb of ^a pilgrim, accompanied by two companions, and touched the sick man's throat with three fingers and restored it to health, the marks of his fingers remaining on his neck, which two hundred religious easily saw.

[15] At the same time two noblemen — of whom one, born in the town of Saint-Junien near Limoges, two captives freed: was named Peter, and the other had the surname Ithier and was ^a kinsman of Gerard Ithier, Prior of Grandmont — were captured by ^a certain Gerard who was ravaging the entire region with cruel brigandage, and were held loaded with chains in ^a foul dungeon for two months. At length, admonished by heavenly inspiration, they implored Divine aid through ^a particle of the Holy Cross which was preserved at Grandmont and through the merits of Saint Stephen. When the prayer was uttered, the chains of Ithier fell to the ground; those of the other were so loosened that he could depart with them still on; for at the same time the doors were divinely opened. They came therefore to ^a certain house of the Order called Castanelle, whence three days later they were conducted by the religious to Grandmont, where the chains of one of them were hung before the tomb of Saint Stephen and were long ^a spectacle to pilgrims who frequented the place. one of them later at death's door: The same Ithier, brought to the point of death by ^a grave illness, when those present invoked the patronage of Saint Stephen, was immediately free of the disease and of every trace of it.

[16] In the same year ^a certain knight came to Grandmont with his brother, the Abbot of Solignac, to give thanks to Saint Stephen, by whose aid he had been freed from quartan fever. Others also came to give thanks, one suffering from quartan fever, another sick person: sent by the Lady of Saint-Baudile in the diocese of Rodez, whose son had been freed from ^a difficult disease through Saint Stephen. In the bishopric of Lodeve ^a dead boy was recalled to life as soon as his parents implored the aid of Saint Stephen; and they then placed ^a wax statue in ^a certain monastery of the same Order in honor of Saint Stephen, equal in size to the boy's stature, which was long preserved in memory of so great an event.

[17] A peasant of the village of Boissac had with criminal intent torn up and burned the crosses which the Brothers of the monastery of Cluse had fixed to mark the boundaries of their woodlands. a sacrilegious man is seized by ^a demon, freed by Saint Stephen, Wherefore, with the Deity taking vengeance, ^a demon seized him; from which, however, he was freed at the tomb of Saint Stephen. The wife of the Lord of Roquecissiere among the Ruteni had already been given up by the physicians; she asked her husband to make ^a vow to Saint Stephen on her behalf. When the vow had been made as piously as possible, Stephen appeared to the sick woman, attended by ^a not inconsiderable company of religious of his Order, as also another woman near death: and grasping her hand, he said: "Arise, you shall not die." And she felt herself entirely restored to health. A wax statue of the woman, equal to her stature, was sent to the tomb of Saint Stephen and was long preserved there.

[18] a captive freed: A band of soldiers was marauding on the borders of Grandmont; by them the priest of the parish of Saint-Sauveur was captured and led to Ambazac, where he suffered many harsh things to compel him to pay an exorbitant ransom. There he prayed to Saint Stephen thus: "I was captured near your sepulchre, holy Father, at which I have seen so many prodigies performed; do not now despise me, nor allow me alone to be exempt from your aid." He had scarcely spoken these words when he saw the doors of the house in which he was confined opened and his chains loosed; and going forth, he brought those chains to the tomb of Saint Stephen.

[19] There was ^a certain Bernard, an associate of the House of Puy-Gibert in Quercy, a dying man: as we said above that certain laymen were called their familiars, though not members of the household. When his son was already at the point of death, ^a certain priest, the boy's godfather, and other friends who were present, asked the father to make ^a vow to Saint Stephen, promising to join their prayers to his. While this was being done, the boy cried out: "Where has my guide gone?" When his friends asked what he meant, he said: "A certain old man, grasping my hand, said, 'Come to the tomb of Saint Stephen, and you will recover'; but he suddenly abandoned me as I was following." No one doubted that this was Stephen, especially since the boy was healed in an instant; he afterwards came with his father to Grandmont and gave thanks to the Saint.

[20] A certain associate or familiar of the Brothers of the monastery of Entrefins had ^a fine house near Montmorillon. Fire, which had seized all the neighboring houses, surrounded it on every side. another house preserved from fire. He thereupon took refuge in the aid of Saint Stephen, and did not, as the others did, carry anything out of his house, but said: "Holy Father, you know how faithfully I serve you and yours: therefore come to my aid and preserve this house, which is no less yours and your followers' than mine." The fire, having reduced almost the entire village to ashes, did not touch even ^a straw belonging to that house.

CONCERNING BLESSED ISAIAH BONER, OF THE ORDER OF HERMITS OF SAINT AUGUSTINE, AT KAZIMIERZ NEAR KRAKOW IN POLAND

Preliminary Commentary.

Isaiah Boner, of the Order of Hermits of Saint Augustine, at Kazimierz near Krakow in Poland (Blessed)

By G. H.

[1] A double town named Kazimierz is found in Lesser Poland, both situated on the Vistula River; one in the Palatinate of Lublin, Kazimierz near Krakow, seven leagues distant from the city of Lublin; the other in the Palatinate of Krakow, and so joined to Krakow itself that it is reckoned as one city with it. The following account of the founding of this Kazimierz, with its churches and Augustinian monastery, is given by Martin Cromer in his work on the origin and deeds of the Poles, Book 12, under Casimir II, surnamed the Great, at the year 1346. "Nor should that be passed over in silence," he says, "which happened at Krakow in the same year. For when certain wicked men, impelled by sacrilegious greed, had stolen the most holy Body of Christ together with its vessel from the church dedicated to the memory of All Saints, on account of ^a miracle of the Venerable Sacrament, and had found that vessel not to be golden, as they had believed, but gilded bronze, they impiously and irreverently cast it into ^a muddy swamp at Bubal, or Bawol, ^a suburban village which was in the jurisdiction of the collegiate church of Krakow. Soon the place was illuminated by frequent fires and torches for several days and nights in succession. When this miracle had been reported to the Bishop, and its cause was not yet apparent, after ^a three-day fast had been proclaimed, the Bishop proceeded there with ^a solemn pomp of priests and supplications, it was founded by King Casimir. and brought back the most holy Body, which had been found, with great veneration to the place whence it had been taken. In that very place where it was found, Casimir in the following year built ^a splendid church of fired bricks under the title of Corpus Christi; and in the course of time, having enclosed ^a very ample space with ^a wall, he founded ^a new town and called it Kazimierz after his own name. In which town he also erected another monastery for the fellowship of monks or hermits of the Augustinian Order." together with ^a monastery of Augustinians: John Grothus, Bishop of Krakow, died in the same year, which was 1347 after the birth of Christ. So writes Cromer. King Casimir survived until the Nones of November of the year 1370, before which year the Augustinian monastery was founded. Nicholas Crusenius, in the Index of Monasteries of the Order of Hermits of Saint Augustine appended to the Monasticon Augustinianum, indicates that the convent of Kazimierz was built in the year 1346, in which the aforesaid miracle occurred; but the church of Corpus Christi was built in the following year. Thomas Herrera in the Alphabetum Augustinianum writes that it was founded in the year 1348; but Cromer indicates that the town was founded earlier, which is more likely. Matthias of Miechow also mentions the founding of Kazimierz at that time in Book 4, chapter 21, of his Chronicle of the Kingdom of Poland.

[2] In the year 1617 there were published at Krakow the Eulogies of the Patron Saints of the Diocese of Krakow, dedicated by the Congregation of the Assumption of the Mother of God, Blessed Isaiah Boner is venerated there: established at the Society of Jesus in that place, to Martin Szyszkowski, Bishop of Krakow. Among these Saints is mentioned Blessed Isaiah Boner, of the Order of Hermits of Saint Augustine, Doctor of Sacred Theology, who died in the year of the Lord 1471 on the eighth day of the month of February, and was buried at Kazimierz near Krakow in the church of Saints Catherine and Margaret, Virgins and Martyrs. An elegiac poem is appended, which we here omit. We give, however, ^a more ancient hymn about Blessed Isaiah; for the Life once written perished in ^a fire. his written Life, There exists another Life collected from the tradition of the elders by ^a more recent author and printed at Krakow by Basil Skalski in the year 1610; which Abraham Bzovius abridged and published in volume 18 of the Annals of the Church, at the year 1471, number 34, with this opening: "In the same year Blessed Isaiah Boner, Augustinian, Professor of Sacred Theology, etc., ceased to be among the living." Following Bzovius, Simplicianus ^a Sancto Martino published the same Life translated into French in Part 4 of the Augustinian History, chapter 19, where he merely numbers him among illustrious men and, what is surprising, says he lived nearly an entire century later, until the year 1563. More correctly, Herrera in the Alphabetum Augustinianum counts him among men distinguished for holiness and, with Bzovius, records him as having died in the year 1471, and calls him Blessed Isaiah Boner, and joins his Acts with those of another Isaiah Lechi, fearing lest what belongs to one be ascribed to the other. Our Frideric Szembek, as Philip Alegambe attests in the Library of the Society of Jesus, ^a great promoter of the cult of the Saints, lent his services to the Most Serene Kings Sigismund III and Vladislav IV in procuring sacred relics and distributing them throughout various places in Poland, and published in print various Lives of Saints and Blessed who had departed to the heavenly citizens in those regions. He, out of his goodwill toward our studies, sent us various Acts of Saints, and among them the Life of Blessed Isaiah printed there, but corrected with certain passages expunged.

[3] But ^a scruple remains, in that Vladislav and Hedwig, the parents of Casimir the Great, under whose reign Blessed Isaiah was reported to have been born at Krakow, have been expunged; when did Blessed Isaiah live? and likewise Louis, King of Hungary and Poland, Casimir's successor, under whose reign he was read to have departed this life. Vladislav, surnamed Lokietek, began to reign in the year 1296, but was expelled in 1300, and after five years recovered his kingdom and held it until the year 1333. If therefore Blessed Isaiah is said to have been born after Vladislav had recovered his kingdom, he could already have been among the first who built the Augustinian monastery at Kazimierz when it was being constructed; and in it he might finally have ended his life holily at the age of seventy under King Louis, who, upon the death of Casimir in 1370, was substituted and administered both kingdoms for twelve years. These are sufficiently remarkable chronological markers, if they are believed to have been found in ancient documents; and with them expunged, Bzovius and others make him ^a hundred years younger, and Simplicianus nearly two hundred. Philip Elssius in the Encomiasticum Augustinianum writes that he was born in 1380 and died in 1571, at the age of ninety-one. Which errors I think arose from the carelessness of the printer. Perhaps more certain results will be arrived at by the people of Kazimierz and the Augustinian Hermits, who venerate him there as ^a local patron.

HYMN CONCERNING BLESSED ISAIAH.

Isaiah Boner, of the Order of Hermits of Saint Augustine, at Kazimierz near Krakow in Poland (Blessed)

A festive light, ^a longed-for light, Dedicated to the name of holy Isaiah, Shines forth, O Poland: Let us proclaim our joys with our lips. He spurned the enticements of the world And its blandishments, And embracing Christ as God, He bore Him in his whole heart. The restless motions of the flesh, And the wondrous wiles of the demon, The rigors of sleep and food, He overcame, O how bravely! And paying the prayers owed At the altar of the gracious Virgin, He lent his ears, with fervent spirit, Having left the ground behind. And adoring the Virgin Mother, He raised the dead to life: And many more are the miracles That attest the holiness of Isaiah. Now enjoying the prize Among the blessed heavenly ones, Be gracious, O be kindly, Pleading against our sins.

LIFE

Printed at Krakow in the year 1610.

Isaiah Boner, of the Order of Hermits of Saint Augustine, at Kazimierz near Krakow in Poland (Blessed)

FROM THE EDITION PRINTED AT KRAKOW

CHAPTER I

The Deeds of Blessed Isaiah During His Life.

[1] Blessed Isaiah, ^a Pole by nation, ^a beloved Confessor of Christ ... was happily born at Krakow in the Castle Street Blessed Isaiah born at Krakow, of parents who were especially noble and most devoted to the Catholic Church: his father the distinguished Lord Florian Boner, his mother the most noble lady Bronislawa Lanckoronska, outstanding among other virtues especially for her piety toward God. After he had spent that tender and boyish age under the discipline of his excellent parents and had reached those years which are suited to the study of letters, he excels in his studies, he was without any delay, at the loving wish of his parents, transferred to the bosom of the Academy of Krakow, so that that natural talent, which foretold something distinguished and divine, might under that mistress attain its maturity and yield abundant and fertile fruits to the Church of God. His zeal in good letters and especially in sacred studies was wonderful and untiring; his quickness in apprehending was admirable, his felicity in explaining remarkable, and his continuous and mellifluous abundance of discourse in expounding was constant. And since he possessed such variety and abundance of knowledge, he is created Doctor of Theology: and especially since he had acquired no small expertise in divine science, he received the laureate of the Doctorate in Theology.

[2] Since he well knew that this dignity had not been conferred upon him for the sake of pride or leisure,

but of labor and humility, he immediately began to turn his mind in various directions, he embraces the institute of the Hermits of Saint Augustine, meditating with himself in what place and under what condition of life he might come to cultivate his portion of the vineyard of the God of Hosts. At that time the religious order of the Hermit Brothers of Saint Augustine at Kazimierz was truly laudable and very celebrated for its exercises of piety and the austerity of its monastic life. To this order, with great magnanimity combined with humility, having despised the world and its enticements, he gave his name; in which holy institute, with great ardor of spirit and of the inner man, he occupied himself day and night in meditating on the commandments of the Lord, since no discourse and no thought was more agreeable and pleasing to him than that concerning the blessedness of the heavenly homeland. His morals and life he so conformed to the prescriptions of the monastic life devoted to pious exercises and penance: that he was to all ^a mirror and ^a perfect example, complete in every respect. And just as ^a vine planted in fertile soil is accustomed to bear most abundant fruit, so he, grafted into the most fruitful of all virtues — the religious life of the Hermits — by the vow of piety, by the afflictions of fasts, sleeping on the ground, vigils, and the perpetual afflictions of other pious exercises, he yielded the greatest fruits. Psalm 1 Of him that saying of the divine Psalmist could then rightly be spoken: "He was as ^a tree planted by the running waters, which yields its fruit in due season."

[3] Not long afterwards, having been offered the office of interpreting the hidden meanings of Divine Scripture in the lecture hall of the Brothers, he accepted it not unwillingly. He expounds Sacred Scripture to his brethren: How great his earnestness in speaking, how great his fervor! How he refreshed the understanding not so much by the investigation of subtle truths as if by food, as he seized the will itself into the love of Christ; while he scattered the words from his mouth, kindled by the flame of the Divine Spirit, like torches into the minds of his hearers; and now recounted in his discourse what the fall of our first parent had been, and into what great calamities it had cast his entire posterity; and how the punishments of so great ^a crime could not be removed from man unless the only-begotten Son of God, sent from the bosom of the Father, had assumed human flesh and, both by other labors voluntarily undertaken and by the trophy of the Cross, had freed us from those eternal punishments. And with what earnestness and energy of mind he recalled to the memory of those same Brothers most dear in Christ Jesus he inculcates the pursuit of virtues: that they should remember the life they had undertaken, that they should embrace and studiously retain chastity, poverty, and obedience, as the threefold chariot of ^a true profession by which they might fly from these earthly things to the heavens. And this and so great ^a zeal toward the Brothers shone forth in the blessed Father Isaiah.

[4] But while he thus instilled the streams of the Divine word into the tender minds of the Brothers, he himself was all the more severe and harsh in mortifying his flesh and taming his desires, he joins mortification to prayer: and in this imitating the divine Paul the Apostle, he chastised his body and brought it into subjection, lest perhaps when he had preached to others, he himself should become reprobate. Day and night, kneeling, he persisted in prayer; and his mind, captured and soothed by the sweetness of Divine contemplations, took little or no care of the body; fasts were his sweetest food. He then felt himself to be conquering when he was agitated by no or few or slight waves of disturbance; and as the impulse of ^a horse is checked by ^a bridle, so with ^a hairshirt woven from horsehair he bridled the concupiscence of the flesh, lest it should at any time break forth too incautiously. Nor was his struggle only with the desires of the flesh, but also with the powers of darkness. For when, elevated toward God by the divine fervor of his mind, he is harassed by demons: he either poured forth prayers or persisted in meditation, he was struck by the horrible voices of the foulest spirits or shaken by their blows. Nowhere, however, was he so constant in prayers as before the image of the most Blessed Virgin invoking Saint Mary he is lifted into the air: Mary, which he had caused to be most beautifully painted on the wall in the cloister, at his own expense and that of pious men, for the sake of his devotion. And whenever he poured himself forth in prayers and spiritual fervor, surrounded by ^a great brightness, he was caught up into the air, in which rapture he was heard to sing the hymn of the Church, AVE REGINA CAELORUM.

[5] At the time when the blessed Father Isaiah lived ^a life of admirable sanctity ... he often came to church on bare feet, he visits churches on bare feet: in winter and in times of intense cold; and whenever he was seized by sleep from weariness, he threw himself upon the ground and refreshed his tired limbs with rest. All the time that remained to him from monastic offices he spent in divine prayers and meditations; and especially he was ^a suppliant before God for those who lay weighed down by the burden of mortal sins. To his Brothers, moreover, when seized by illness or any infirmity, he performed every service, even the smallest, with great cheerfulness. It was also most pleasant to him to visit several times ^a week, with the permission of his Superior, on bare feet, the sepulchres of Saint Stanislaus the Martyr, of Saint Hedwig in the castle, of Saint Salomea, Queen of Poland, and of other Saints he venerates the relics of the Saints: whose holy bodies are buried at Krakow; and to kiss their ashes and most holy bones with great veneration. By the same opportunity he would turn aside to the houses of the poor, the sick, and the sorrowful; he would rouse them to patience, frequently exhorting them in his discourses that this affliction was happy, this illness blessed, which would be compensated with those eternal joys; and he exhorted them to penance by expiating their sins through salutary confession.

[6] Toward those who burned with hatred of him, however, he was of such love that he often fell upon his knees before them, he is benevolent toward those ill-disposed to him: beseeching pardon, kissing their hands and feet, and bursting forth into this prayer: "Forgive me, Brother, ^a sinner, because I have grievously offended my God and you, my brother, and have often broken the vow of the Rule of Saint Augustine our Father through my ignorance and negligence. Forgive me, I beseech you, my Brother, and remit this offense, because I have grievously offended you." And while Blessed Isaiah occupied himself in these innumerable and admirable exercises of piety, he nevertheless directed his mind and life toward divine contemplation. He writes on the Master of the Sentences. Of his doctrine and genius the most brilliant testimony is afforded by his most acute commentaries composed on the four Books of the Master of the Sentences and published.

CHAPTER II

The Happy Death of Blessed Isaiah. Miracles Formerly Performed.

[7] When, however, the blessed man Isaiah, now thoroughly weary of his present life, was yearning with ardent desire for Jesus Christ, while ill he is visited by the Virgin Mother of God the Lord God, most faithful to His servants, did not long delay his desires. But when, seized by illness, he was already lying in bed, he beheld the most Blessed Virgin Mary coming to him with ^a company of Angels, bearing in her arms the price and salvation of the world, and by the Saints of Poland: the child Christ Jesus; and following behind her came ^a retinue of the holy Patrons of the kingdom of Poland — among others, Saint Stanislaus, Saint Hyacinth, Saint Hedwig, Saint Salomea, and Saint Kunegunde, Queens of Poland — and thus the Blessed Virgin Mary spoke to him with ^a cheerful countenance and honeyed words: "Isaiah, my beloved servant, be prepared; you are now about to possess the kingdom of God, prepared by God from the beginning of the world for all His Saints."

[8] Wonderfully refreshed by this heavenly vision, he awaited the time of the dissolution of his life with great joy; and calling the Brothers to him, he announced to them all the day of his death. Then, prostrate on the ground he is fortified with the last Sacraments: and on bended knees, he made confession of his sins and with great humility sought absolution; and fortified with the most holy Sacrament of the Eucharist, the Body of Christ, and the other Sacraments received according to Christian custom, he gave thanks to Almighty God for all the benefits of his life; and with hand extended and eyes raised

to heaven, fortifying the Brothers with the sign of the holy Cross, he spoke these last words: "In Christ Jesus, my dearest Brothers, may you live here long and happily in the peace of our Lord Jesus Christ; fare well. He gives the Brothers ^a blessing. May the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob, of our Fathers, bless you; may the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit bless you; and may He give you His holy peace, the fear of God, fraternal charity, holy patience, firm obedience, faith, hope, firm charity, fraternal conduct in the holy religious life, and sincere devotion; and hereafter that eternal life, in which you may enjoy it forever without end." He dies piously: Finally, kissing each one, with eyes raised to heaven and clapping his hands, saying these words: "Into Thy hands, Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God and of the Virgin Mary, I commend my spirit," freed from this prison of mortality, he joyfully departed to heaven on the eighth day of the month of February... His body, with many tears from his followers, was honorably buried in the church of Blessed Catherine, he is buried. and in the chapel of the same Blessed one, in the ambulatory of the Brothers' church. And this is the brief Life of the blessed Father Isaiah; for that which was written by the Brothers' hands together with the miracles perished in ^a fire.

[9] Of the miracles, however, which attested the sanctity of his life, we append only certain principal ones. What God has wrought While alive he had raised ^a dead man: through the merits of His blessed servant Isaiah, He will not cease to work now and forever. While he was still alive and was occupied in prayer before the image of the most Blessed Virgin Mary (which he had caused to be most beautifully painted on the wall in the ambulatory at his own expense, for the sake of his devotion), bearing the child Jesus in her arms, the corpse of ^a certain man named Stanislaus, ^a citizen of Kazimierz, was being carried in for burial amid the mourning of his parents; and he restored life and spirit to him, with those words poured forth to the Blessed Virgin: "Show yourself to be ^a Mother, O happy gate of heaven," etc.

[10] His sepulchre is illuminated by ^a heavenly light: A light, frequently descending, illuminated his tomb with its rays, which devout Brothers not infrequently beheld at night and in the early morning.

[11] In the year of Christ 1479, shameless women, devoted to the pleasures of the world, stood upon the place of Blessed Isaiah's tomb shameless women are repelled by him, or trod upon it with their feet, and were repelled by ^a certain force, so that they nearly departed from their senses.

[12] In the year 1569, on April 10, the Brothers had resolved to commit to burial the body of their deceased Provincial, a stone cannot be moved from there. which was to be near the tomb of Blessed Isaiah; but when great and prolonged labor had been undertaken in rolling back the stone of the monument, and they saw that the attempt was vain — as those who were opposing the Divine will — they abandoned their plan.

CHAPTER III

More Recent Miracles Performed by Blessed Isaiah.

[13] By the aid of Blessed Isaiah are cured: epilepsy, In the year of the Lord 1602, on the 7th of October, the distinguished Joachim Fox, ^a citizen of Kazimierz, was freed from epilepsy, having made ^a vow to visit the tomb of Blessed Isaiah with ^a candle. He fulfilled the vow and received the grace.

[14] a grave illness, In the year of the Lord 1603, on the 9th of February, an honest young man named Peter Snacki, of Kazimierz, lying ill with ^a grave infirmity, made ^a vow to visit the sepulchre of Blessed Isaiah with ^a votive Mass and ^a small gift of ^a candle. He fulfilled the vow and obtained his health.

[15] In the year of the Lord 1604, on the 10th of February, three Brothers of the same Order, pain of feet and head, having long suffered pain in their feet and heads from the rigors of travel, and many others as well, having made ^a vow to visit the sepulchre of the blessed servant of God Isaiah, were by his favor perfectly healed in ^a short time.

[16] In the year of the Lord 1606, on the 10th of February, ^a certain honest woman named Anna Niedzielanka, a dangerous illness, of Kazimierz, seized by ^a grave disease, lying in bed, and already at the point of death, having devoutly made ^a vow to visit the tomb of the blessed Father Isaiah with one votive Mass and ^a small gift of ^a candle, she fulfilled the vow and recovered her former health.

[17] In the year of the Lord 1607, on the 30th of January, the noble Christophorus Prawinski, drummer of His Sacred Royal Majesty, Sigismund III, pain of feet, making ^a vow with ^a small gift of ^a candle and one votive Mass to visit the tomb of Blessed Isaiah in order to obtain health from the prolonged pain in his feet, which he suffered so greatly that no medicines or skills of physicians could avail, was perfectly healed by the merits of Blessed Isaiah.

[18] In the year of the Lord 1607, on the 4th of February, the noble Hieronymus Lazarowski brought his boy named Stanislaus, epilepsy: who had often suffered from the falling sickness on many occasions, and upon ^a vow being made for him to visit the tomb of Blessed Isaiah with ^a candle, he saw him restored to health by the merits of the Saint.

[19] In the year of the Lord 1607, on the 8th of March, the distinguished Simon, ^a citizen of Kleparz, a dying woman healed, had his wife Hedwig in ^a grave infirmity, almost at the point of death, lying in bed for ^a long time and weary of so great ^a sickness, so that for entire consecutive days she was refreshed by no drink or food. A vow was made for her by her husband to visit the tomb of Blessed Isaiah with one votive Mass. After the vow was promised, she found herself well. Praise be to God.

[20] a woman possessed by ^a demon, In the year of the Lord 1607, on the 1st of April, the honest Lady Catherine of Kazimierz, long possessed by an evil spirit and always tormented by ^a demon, was cured and freed at the tomb of this Saint.

[21] In the year of the Lord 1607, on the 2nd of April, the distinguished

Adalbert, ^a shoemaker and citizen of Kazimierz, one suffering from fever, burdened for ^a long time by an acute fever and another illness, made ^a vow to visit the sepulchre of Blessed Isaiah with ^a candle and one votive Mass, and quickly gained his former health. Praise be to God.

[22] In the year of the Lord 1607, on the 5th of March, the honest matron Anna Spercina, dangerously ill; ^a citizen of Kazimierz, was seized by so great an infirmity that the consultations of physicians had called her life into doubt. Upon ^a vow made by her parents to undertake ^a journey to the sepulchre of Blessed Isaiah, she soon obtained her health. Glory to God in the highest, in His Saints.

[23] In the year of the Lord 1607, on the 9th of April, an honest woman named Anna Czapikowska, of Kazimierz, consumption driven away, grieved for her boy named Albert, who had long suffered from consumption and ^a very grave disease of the chest; but after ^a vow made for him with the offering of ^a votive Mass in honor of the Blessed Virgin Mary and Blessed Isaiah, seeing him immediately restored to his former health, she was suffused with no small joy, with the greatest thanksgiving to God and the Virgin Mother of God Mary and to this Blessed Isaiah in particular.

[24] In the year of the Lord 1607, on the 2nd of August, the distinguished Augustine Stokloska, ^a citizen of Kazimierz, leprosy, long and greatly tormented by leprosy and ^a severe headache, having made and fulfilled ^a similar vow with ^a small gift of ^a candle and ^a votive Mass, was perfectly healed.

[25] In the year of the Lord 1607, on the 7th of May, the distinguished Samuel Ferborn, an incurable disease, ^a goldsmith and citizen of Krakow from Castle Street, pressed for one month by ^a grave and incurable infirmity and already entirely abandoned by the physicians, having spent more than thirty Hungarian gold coins on medicines — these at length being of no avail — turning to the merits of Blessed Isaiah with ^a vow of one Mass to be offered, and the vow being fulfilled, he found himself well, to the astonishment of many, giving thanks to God in His Saints.

[26] In the year of the Lord 1608, on the 10th of June, the honest young man Stanislaus Sulkowicz, servant of the Reverend

Father Provincial, Lord James Moyski, of the Order of Hermit Brothers of Saint Augustine, a dangerous fever, while returning from Lithuania, from the city of Brest, to Krakow, fell into ^a grave illness or fever from the heat of the sun, so that he despaired of his health. He made ^a vow to visit the sepulchre of Blessed Isaiah and shortly afterwards obtained his former health.

[27] In the year of the Lord 1608, on the 14th of May, I, Stanislaus Golebrowski, ^a citizen of Kazimierz, declare before God and pious men how my boy named Stanislaus, very ill and lying in his bed for seven weeks, blindness arising from fever, without any food, sustained only by ^a little drink, and day and night without any interval of rest — in which infirmity also (for he had lost the light of his eyes from the severe heat and cold of the fever and ^a headache) remaining blind — at length on one day in the hour of death, in his agony, was lamented and abandoned. I made ^a vow for him that, if he should live, I would visit the monument of Blessed Isaiah, Patron of Kazimierz, with ^a votive Mass and ^a small gift of ^a candle. Immediately he recovered and was well. Praise be to God in Saint Isaiah.

[28] In the year of the Lord 1608, on the 29th of July, the Lady Anna Milowska, ^a citizen of Kazimierz, testifies that her maidservant, a difficult illness: ^a girl named Hedwig, being gravely ill and lying long in bed, was healed by the patronage of the same Blessed Isaiah after vows were made to visit the sepulchre of Blessed Isaiah. Praise be to God.

[29] In the year of the Lord 1608, on the last day of December, at Kazimierz near Krakow, in the street called Krakowska, an infant born dead the wife of Lord John Zalecki, ^a citizen of Krakow, named Regina, having long been in peril during childbirth, gave birth to ^a dead boy. When her husband heard this, he began to fill the house with mourning and lamentations together with his wife, revives, and to implore Divine mercy that this sin should not be imputed to them. At length they took refuge in the patronage of the blessed Father Isaiah, and having made ^a vow that, if the boy should live, they would visit the sepulchre of Blessed Isaiah with one votive Mass and ^a large gift of ^a candle the size of the boy. In baptism he is named Isaiah: They had scarcely conceived and vowed this in their minds when the boy immediately revived by Divine mercy. For nearly three hours after his birth he began to yawn and to cry loudly. The parents, grateful for the Divine favor, rejoicing with their neighbors, fulfilled the vow and baptized the boy with the lustral waters, the name Isaiah being imposed upon him. Praise be to God in His Saints.

[30] In the year of the Lord 1608, on the 17th of April, a headache driven away, the honest man Lawrence of Lwow, while at Kazimierz, was oppressed for several weeks by ^a most violent headache and was abandoned by the physicians. But when he had already tried the arts of the physicians in vain, having recourse to God, the Blessed Virgin Mary, and Blessed Isaiah for help, he made ^a vow with ^a small gift to visit the sepulchre of Blessed Isaiah, and was perfectly healed of the desperate pain. Praise be to God in His Saints.

[31] In the year of the Lord 1609, on the 12th of March, the distinguished John Haler, ^a citizen of Olkusz, where metals are mined, pressed at various times by an intense headache, at length before Father Brother Augustine of Kazimierz, again in another. of the Order of Hermit Brothers of Saint Augustine, made ^a vow to visit the sepulchre of Blessed Isaiah with one silver tablet and one votive Mass. He had scarcely made the vow when he was immediately and perfectly healed of the headache by Divine mercy. Praise be to God in Blessed Isaiah. He made the vow, obtained his health, and hung the silver tablet for greater faith at the tomb of Blessed Isaiah.

[32] In the year of the Lord 1609, on the 3rd of August, at Kazimierz at the tenth hour, Albert, ^a boy of four years, drowned in the Vistula son of the distinguished Joseph Tyranski, an architect and citizen of Kazimierz, and of his mother Dorothy, while standing with other boys on the bank of the river Vistula for the sake of play, by chance happened to fall into the river Vistula, which had then flooded. He was soon submerged and swallowed up by the waters, and appeared no more. Then the nuns of the monastery of Saint Agnes, of the Order of Saint Clare, chanting Vespers, saw through the windows of the church the boy's pitiable death, and kneeling on the ground they invoked the name of Jesus and the patronage of the blessed Father Isaiah. Soon the boy appeared in the midst of the Vistula, thence swimming on his back more than sixty paces to the bridge, and reaching the bank lifeless, he emerges, he was extracted from the waters by the bystanders and offered by his most sorrowful mother at the sepulchre of Blessed Isaiah with thanksgiving. and revives: Thus he was restored to his former health and freed from death by the merits of Blessed Isaiah. Praise be to God.

[33] In the year of the Lord 1609, on the 7th of September, the honest Catherine, wife of the distinguished John, called Malaanna, ^a tailor and citizen of Kazimierz, a dying person healed, testifies that her daughter of one year, in her grave infirmity, had been seen to be at the point of death in her agony, and that she vowed to present her at the sepulchre of Blessed Isaiah with ^a small gift when she should be well. After the sacrifice of the Mass, returning home, she found her daughter well by the merits of Blessed Isaiah, and hung ^a descriptive and painted tablet of testimony at the tomb.

[34] In the year of the Lord 1609, on the 10th of June, at Krakow, the honest maiden Hedwig, in her grave infirmity at the point of death in her agony, another, for whom her father made ^a vow to visit the sepulchre of Blessed Isaiah with one votive Mass, was restored to her former health by the merits of Blessed Isaiah. Praise be to God.

CONCERNING THE VENERABLE JEROME EMILIANI, FOUNDER OF THE CONGREGATION OF SOMASCHA

In the Year of Christ 1537

Preliminary Commentary.

The Venerable Jerome Emiliani, Founder of the Congregation of Somascha, in Italy

By G. H.

--- I. The Written Life of Jerome. The Memory of His Feast Day. His Relics Honored by Saint Charles.

[1] Somascha, ^a fortress in the territory of Bergamo, the principal seat of this Congregation, from which the Order also received its name, where Jerome died, is described below in Book 3 of the Life, chapter 2. The Life of Jerome was written by The deeds of Jerome himself were committed to writing barely ^a year after his death by ^a certain one of the more noble Venetians, who had been accustomed to live most intimately with him at Venice above all others; yet his name was concealed in silence, a noble Venetian, as is said in Book 2, chapter 5: and to whom, ^a very close friend of his, he openly indicated, not long after his last departure from Venice, that his departure from this life would follow, as is read in Book 3, chapter 12. (perhaps also Angelo Marco Gambarana?) Whether Angelo Marco Gambarana, who had been his secretary and afterwards was the first General Provost of the Order after its approval by the Apostolic See, then wrote his Life is questioned below in Book 3, chapter 8. Another Life writer cited in Book 3, chapter 10, is Scipio Albano, who, having been honored with the laureate of Sacred Theology and being ^a Canon of the Church of Scala in Milan and also ^a Protonotary of the Apostolic See, then Scipio Albano

is reported to have set forth the Life of Jerome in ^a brief but weighty commentary, printed at Milan toward the end of the preceding century. There followed Andrea Stella, who governed the supreme office of the Congregation of Somascha with great praise for his singular prudence in handling affairs. then Andrea Stella, He, in great peril of illness, after receiving the sacred Viaticum, bound himself by ^a vow that, if his former health were restored to him, he would write the Life of Jerome Emiliani; which, having been relieved of his illness, he fulfilled, and wrote his Life in the Italian language with the greatest eloquence and piety: which things are narrated more fully in Book 4, chapter 4. For Augustino Turtura divided the Life which we give into so many books, afterwards Augustino Turtura, which is the one given here: he himself also being General Provost of the Regular Clerks of the Congregation of Somascha and of Christian Doctrine in France. That he wrote about Jerome Emiliani both more diligently and more copiously than others is reported by Joseph Silos in Book 7 of the History of the Theatine Regular Clerks. That Life was printed at Milan in the year 1620, with ^a pastoral exhortation to the Fathers and Brothers of the same Congregation, for the reading and imitation of Jerome's Life, in which he asserts that his illustrious deeds had indeed been committed to writing by others before him, but so mutilated and imperfect that very many remarkable things lay hidden from posterity, and Divine goodness and Jerome's virtue were cheated of their due praise, and those who under his leadership had given their names to the spiritual militia in this Congregation lacked ^a great fruit of piety: he had therefore applied his mind to writing out in ^a certain order all that he could collect concerning him, etc. The rest of the exhortation, since it contains nothing singular about his Life, finally Constantine Rossi, Bishop we omit for the sake of brevity. Finally, the same Jerome's Life in the Italian language was published at Milan in the years 1630 and 1641 by Constantine Rossi, who from being ^a Regular Clerk of the same Congregation became Bishop of Veglia, an island in the Adriatic Sea near the coast of Dalmatia under Venetian dominion. He followed roughly the order of Augustino Turtura, with ^a few things here and there added, omitted, or changed.

[2] Giovanni Battista Guilhermio, Doctor of Both Laws and Canon of the Church of Feltre, Jerome is believed to have died on February 8, and Vicar of the Bishop of Bergamo, soon after the death of Jerome wrote ^a letter, related below in Book 4, chapter 1, in which he testifies that he died on the seventh day of the month. Turtura observes that since he expired at about the third watch of the night, the death seems better to be recorded on the sixth day before the Ides of February. But Rossi, removing almost all doubt, writes in Book 3, chapter 13, that this blessed soul rested in the Lord on February 8 after midnight. Others believed his month of death to be March so certainly that, as Turtura attests, on the Nones of March, dedicated to Saint Thomas Aquinas, on which day his memory is celebrated, the pious memory of Jerome was venerated by most people. This now takes place on this eighth of February, when at Somascha and in other places the Fathers, having placed his image upon an altar specially erected for this purpose, sing ^a solemn Mass of the Most Holy Trinity. But on March 7, Ferrari inscribed him in the general Catalogue of Saints with these words: "At Somascha in the territory of Bergamo, Blessed Jerome Emiliani, Author of the Clerks of Somascha." and on March 7 by Ferrari The same author published concerning the Saints of Italy this eulogy drawn from the Life written by Andrea Stella, with this title: "Concerning Blessed Jerome Emiliani, Founder of the Congregation of Somascha." with this eulogy. "Jerome Emiliani, ^a Venetian Patrician, having distinguished himself excellently in various offices for the Venetian Republic, when war was raging from the League of Cambrai against the Venetians, was assigned to defend their borders. Besieged by the army of Emperor Maximilian at Castelnuovo, captured and bound in chains, he was rescued by the aid of the most holy Virgin Mother of God and, led through the midst of the enemy, arrived safely at Treviso. Not forgetful of so great ^a benefit, having distributed his patrimony to the poor and bidding farewell to the world, he began to occupy himself in works of piety, not only at Venice but also in other cities of Italy, gathering together boys deprived of parents and seeing to their being fed in houses built for them. Which he also did for girls. After traveling through many cities, he finally halted at the fortress of Somascha (which lies between Bergamo and Lake Como); and there, with many pupils flocking to him, he laid the foundations of the Congregation of Somascha, shining with many miracles. For when many in the neighboring regions were perishing from famine for lack of food, he himself, with bread divinely multiplied in his lap, fed not only his own but also strangers who came. He was so terrible to demons that he cast them out of the bodies of many possessed who came to him in droves. Also inspired by the prophetic spirit, he predicted many things which so came to pass. Finally, foreknowing his death, in the fifty-sixth year of his age, on March 7 (rather February 8), he departed this life in the year of our redemption 1537."

[3] The title of Blessed, which Ferrari attributed to him in both places, the same title, called Blessed, after all the decrees of Urban VIII concerning the veneration of Saints, is broadly applied by Bishop Constantine Rossi in the Acts published in the Italian language, to which he prefixes this title: "Life of Blessed Jerome Miani, Founder of the Congregation of Somascha." Having noted the steps of these Italians, we could not exclude him from this work: yet we call him only Venerable, until it be more certainly established for us that the title of Blessed is not disapproved by the Apostolic See. Bartholomew Pellegrino, in the Vineyard of Bergamo published in the year 1534, while Jerome was still alive, calls him Saint, and Saint, while still alive: Saint of God, and ^a blessed soul, as Rossi shows in Book 4, chapter 1, in which same book and chapter the same Pellegrino is treated below, and it is added that by Pope Pius V he was called ^a man distinguished for his extraordinary piety, inspired, as is piously believed, by the Holy Spirit.

[4] Saint Charles Borromeo, Archbishop of Milan, as Rossi reports in Book 3, chapter 13, his relics recognized by Saint Charles Borromeo through ^a most sweet odor, in the year 1566 having set out for Somascha and having scarcely entered the door of the church, was immediately, on account of ^a most sweet odor perceived by him, seized with holy admiration, and said to those standing by — Bartholomew Brocco, the Provost of Somascha, and Doctor Antonio Vimercato, Provost of Olginate — that in that church lay the body of some great servant of God. And when, divinely illuminated, he recognized that ^a certain odor proceeded from the relics of Father Jerome, he asked Father Brocco to show him the sepulchre of the man of God; and being led to it, and piously honored, he ordered that some sacred bones be raised from it, which he deigned to honor with the incense of sacred frankincense by his own hand, showing ^a singular devotion. Thereafter, when the part in which that sepulchre was located had to be demolished for the renovation of the church, the relics were translated to the high altar, carried to the high altar, for the visitation of which, by the authority of the Apostolic See, there were deputed Lord Mario Antonino, Vicar General of the diocese of Milan, then Archbishop of Caesarea; Lord Giulio Cesare Visconti, Primicerius of the Church of Milan; examined by Apostolic Visitors, and Lord Orazio Casati, Apostolic Protonotary and Canon. These three Visitors, constituted by Apostolic letters, made an exact inquisition concerning the miracles of the Servant of God, and visited not only his venerable body but also the precipitous hiding place in the wilderness where he was accustomed to contemplate divine things and to afflict his body with self-imposed penances; and they gave this response to the Sacred Congregation concerning their entire legation: this response being given to the Sacred Congregation. "We proceeded to Somascha, where that pious man shone forth by the integrity of his life and his pious works, and is venerated with great piety by the inhabitants. We visited the pious relics, we inspected the very harsh places to which he often retired, that he might devote himself more intensely to prayer and the mortification of his body: we saw with our eyes how great ^a reverence is held there, from the multitude of votive tablets, by which we ourselves also felt the greatest devotion to the servant of God to be aroused."

--- II. More Recent Miracles, from the Italian of Rossi.

[5] The same Rossi relates in Book 4, chapter 2, that processes concerning the miracles of Jerome had been made in various places, Processes in the Council of the Sacred Rota: with Giovanni Calto, Provost of Somascha, and Giovanni Antonio Palmio, Rector of the Clementine College at Rome, diligently laboring therein; and that these processes were handed over by the Congregation of Rites to the Council of the Sacred Rota,

the Most Illustrious and Most Reverend Victor Cappello, Bishop of Famagusta, constituted general Procurator of the Congregation of Somascha, applying himself to this business with great diligence. And besides the miracles related below in Book 4, chapters 2, 3, and 4, he adduces in chapter 3 the following three, performed after the Life published by Turtura.

[6] Girolamo Riva Zerbino of Milan had been deprived of the use of hearing for forty years, so that he could neither hear sermons, nor the sound of bells, nor the conversation of members of his household, unless they stood very close and spoke in ^a very loud voice. He, summoned to the examination to be held concerning the virtues and miracles of Jerome, on the night preceding his arrival at Somascha, took refuge in the aid of the blessed man for the recovery of his hearing. A deaf man, praying at the sepulchre before his image, recovers his hearing: On the following day, when he had arrived at Somascha, entering the church of Saint Bartholomew, he first of all visited the sepulchre of Blessed Jerome, and falling on his knees before his image, he vowed that if he recovered his hearing, he would perform certain works of piety each year. When his prayer was finished, being called to the examination, he suddenly noticed that he was no longer deaf: he heard each question perfectly well, although pronounced in ^a moderate and ordinary voice, without even ^a single word being repeated — which before had often to be done in ^a kind of shout three or four times over. Having thus obtained perfect health, he seized with great admiration all who had known him before, and especially those who had come from home as companions on this journey, and who subsequently perceived many certain signs of the health he had obtained, as appears more distinctly from the Process.

[7] Girolamo Novello, one of the senior Fathers of the Congregation, ^a man distinguished by learning, had formerly taught Rhetoric and Philosophy at Venice in the Patriarchal Seminary, with great profit to his hearers. He was eminently pious toward Father Jerome, on account of the various and illustrious things that had been told him by the first Fathers, and especially by Primo Conte (whose deeds and death are related below in Book 2, chapter 13), concerning his sanctity and miracles. Jerome, appearing to ^a dying man, consoles him. Wherefore he would have wished to have lived in the same time as the Father, and that he be known by all and honored with the title of Saint. In return, from heaven the Venerable Jerome Emiliani looked upon the pious spirit of Girolamo Novello, and appeared to him at the Milanese college of Saint Peter, which is called Monteforte, when he was ill and near death, surrounded by ^a wondrous light and adorned with ^a certain heavenly majesty; and by his visitation and blessing he consoled this client devoted to him at that critical moment. Standing by the dying man were the Provost of the college and Francesco Leoni, Master of Novices, who from certain unusual movements of admiration and reverence, and from the pious speech of the sick man — who for several days had been unable to speak — clearly perceived that some vision had been presented to him, which they learned with certainty through his express and often repeated account, some hours before he died: which took place on October 25, 1623.

[8] Caterina Petruccia, ^a professed religious of the Benedictine Order in the most ancient monastery of Saint Stephen at Amelia in Umbria, was gravely ill, afflicted by ^a disease not only incurable but one that seized the physicians who visited her with astonishment; wherefore they judged it impossible for her to prolong her life much further. Besides the other discomforts of the disease by which she was most wretchedly afflicted, she never took food, a religious woman vexed for many years by various diseases, although always in the smallest quantity and with great effort, without vomiting up ten times more of the most viscous phlegm — thicker than glue or egg white — together with all her food, and being compressed by the most intense pain of stomach and head at the very moment of vomiting; and that pain persisted continually in the region of the spleen, and was frequently colicky as well, which she had suffered for many days in two bouts, quite severely, and often accompanied by fever arising from catarrh. This illness, just as it had afflicted her for the three or four preceding years, so in the year 1627 it increased in ^a savage manner to such ^a degree that it seemed to have altered the natural order on account of certain extraordinary symptoms, which the physicians confessed they had never before seen or read of; and indeed from their account alone the hair of the hearers would stand on end — which things, however, decency requires to be wrapped in silence. I shall only relate that Giovanni Domenico Flaschetto, and judged by the physician to be near death, who had practiced the medical art at Amelia for some years, several times declared that from her natural disposition she could not live beyond three or four days; since she was from time to time found by him without any pulse of the artery indicating life, and also suffered ^a most severe fainting fit from extreme weakness and the sharpest force of the disease. And although the same physician at his departure from the city left her alive, he nevertheless declared that, since the disease was still worsening, she would not live long. And so that wretched religious was in such ^a state without any hope of life and was awaiting death. When the eighth of February dawned in the year 1629, on February 8, aroused by the solemn commemoration of Jerome, she invokes him, the anniversary of the happy death of the Venerable Father Jerome, when for that reason, according to the ancient custom of the Congregation, at first light, ^a signal was given by the church bell in the church of Sant'Angelo of this Congregation, she was advised by another religious named Lucretia Novelli to take refuge in the intercession of Blessed Jerome. She, immediately moved in spirit, eliciting various interior acts, implored the patronage of the blessed Servant of God with living faith; nor in vain. For on that very day the pains ceased; she took food, retained what she had taken, and suffered no more vomiting; and suddenly recovers: at last she obtained full health, to the admiration of all the religious women and the entire city. This religious has survived thus far in health and cheerfulness, giving thanks to God and Blessed Jerome, and is commonly called "the dead woman raised to life." By her ^a silver votive offering was sent to the sepulchre of the Blessed, with ^a succinct narration of the event.

--- III. The Congregation of Somascha, After the Death of Jerome, Confirmed by the Apostolic See and Widely Propagated.

[9] Agostino Barbosa, Book 1 of Universal Ecclesiastical Law, chapter 41, number 160, and in the Compendium of Apostolic Decisions, collection 166, having related from the Life given below Various privileges are granted to this Congregation by Paul III. that the foundations of this Congregation had been laid, adds these things: To this family, not yet professed, Paul III granted the faculty of electing ^a Superior, whether ecclesiastical or secular, from among those who serve in the hospitals or orphanages that had been established, and of enacting decrees as the circumstances of the places might require. Finally, he gave to the priests of those same hospitals the faculty of reciting the Divine Office and of hearing confessions. That Constitution exists in volume 1 of the Bullarium, given at Rome in the year 1540, on the Nones of June, in the sixth year of his pontificate; and mention of it is made below in Book 3, chapter 8.

[10] Afterwards (these are the words of Barbosa) Giovanni Pietro Carafa, Cardinal and Theatine, by his authority Cardinal Carafa united it with the Theatines, united the Congregation of the Theatines with this Congregation of Somascha, so that it should undertake the care of pious works, and should perform all those duties of piety which the Congregation of Somascha is commanded to do in virtue of holy obedience, as in his letters dated at Rome, in his own residence, November 8, 1546. Silos exhibits those letters in Book 7 of the History of the Theatines, in which these words are read: letters being given for this purpose, "Wherefore the Most Holy Father in Christ and our Lord, Lord Paul, by Divine Providence Pope the Third, by ^a living voice committed this business to us and enjoined that we should receive it into our charge; and that I should exhort you in the Lord, and nonetheless in the name and authority of His Holiness should command you by precept in virtue of holy obedience, that you should undertake the care of these same pious works for the love of God and for the reverence of the holy See,"

etc.; and then: "By the authority given to us, we command by precept in virtue of holy obedience that you should undertake the care and administration of the aforesaid pious works and of the persons in any way serving in them for the time being," etc. So far: to which summary description by Barbosa, Silos takes offense, because, he says, he speaks of this conjunction of Orders were these faithfully indicated by Barbosa? as if the Somaschans themselves had not with the greatest prayers dealt with ours to be received. This Barbosa does not deny, but omits as less necessary for the reader. But Silos goes further in his attack: "And what," he says, "is by no means to be tolerated in ^a most learned man, he praises the letters of Carafa; which if he had read, his pen would certainly not have erred; and he would have known who was the author of that plan, who requested it, and with what prudence and deliberation our men finally admitted this otherwise most pious family." There would still be more to censure in Barbosa; for he falls into not one error when he comes to our confraternity. But he who has openly lied never erred with impunity. So Silos charges Barbosa, too sharply and without merit, because what he had written was sufficient for his purpose. The same Pope, later Paul IV, separates it: But the same Barbosa continues: Carafa himself, having been raised to the Supreme Pontificate and being called Paul IV, separated the Congregation of the Theatines from that of Somascha and restricted it to its former institute alone, by letters given on November 23, 1555, which Silos asserts are in their possession, in Book 8, where he treats of this division.

[11] Pius V adopts the same Congregation into the number of the Religious Orders. But the Congregation of the Regular Clerks of Somascha (we use Barbosa's words), Pius V adopted into the number of the Religious Orders and placed under the Rule of Saint Augustine, granting the faculty of taking the three solemn vows, and imposed upon the Congregation the name of Regular Clerks of San Maiolo of Pavia, or of Somascha. Saint Charles Borromeo had given to this Congregation the church of San Maiolo of Pavia, which had belonged to monks of the Cluniac Order, and had assigned certain annual revenues, having obtained Apostolic authority for this purpose. All of which Pope Pius V confirms in his Constitution given on December 6, 1568, in the third year of his Pontificate; and it exists as number 78 in volume 2 of the Bullarium, as does another of Sixtus V, privileges are increased by Gregory XIII, Sixtus V, and Paul V. number 4, by which he decreed that the exemptions and favors granted to the same Congregation by Gregory XIII should be ratified, in the first year of his Pontificate, the year of Christ 1585, on the Kalends of May. Moreover, that the same Regular Clerks of Somascha should enjoy all the privileges granted and to be granted to the Mendicant Orders, Paul V granted in Constitution 37 of volume 3 of the Bullarium, given in the third year of his Pontificate, the year of Christ 1607, on November 9.

[12] There was at that time another Congregation of secular Clerks of Christian Doctrine, first established in the city of Avignon by Cesar de Bus, ^a man of extraordinary piety, presided over in the year 1616 by Antoine Vigier, he joins to it the Congregation of Christian Doctrine in France. when Paul V united it with the Congregation of Regular Clerks of Somascha, so that in France they should henceforth be called the Fathers of Christian Doctrine of the Congregation of Somascha, or of San Maiolo of Pavia, living under the obedience of the General Provost of Somascha and having in the kingdom of France ^a Provincial and their other superiors who were French, but not necessarily within the Pontifical dominions. That Constitution exists in the Appendix to volume 3 of the Bullarium, number 8, given April 11, in the eleventh year of his Pontificate, the year of Christ 1616.

[13] Besides those previously cited, the following treat of Jerome Emiliani and his Congregation of Somascha: Henri de Sponde in the Continuation of the Annals of the Church, volume 3, at the year 1531, number 18, and at the year 1616, number 7; Ascanio Tamburini, On the Law of Abbots, volume 2, disputation 24, question 4, number 86; The memory of Jerome among various writers. Lezana, Part 2, Questions of Regulars, chapter 4, number 23; Paolo Morigia, On the Origin of Religious Orders, Book 1, chapter 68; Sylvester Maurolico, in the Ocean of Religious Orders, Book 5, where he enumerates some of the first General Provosts. The Life which we give, we adorn with ^a summary of contents noted in the margin and with ^a few appended notes. We retain the division into books and chapters made by the author.

LIFE

by Augustino Turtura, General Provost of the Congregation.

The Venerable Jerome Emiliani, Founder of the Congregation of Somascha, in Italy

By Augustino Turtura.

PROLOGUE.

To the Most Illustrious and Most Reverend Horatio, Cardinal of the Holy Roman Church, Lancellotti.

[1] To Jerome, the Author of our Congregation, as he comes forth into the light, I adopt you as Patron, Most Illustrious Cardinal; nor is the reason for this adoption either single or slight. But, passing over my private devotion to you and other matters, this one thing I could not deny to Jerome, who earnestly demanded it — he who claims by paternal right the possession of your patronage, long since entered into by us, and seeks the same bosom of your favor in which the Congregation once founded by him reposes. Nor, I think, will the cause fail: I know that consummate expertise and equity of yours in deciding cases, truly admirable to all the City; I know the extraordinary and singular benignity with which you are accustomed to embrace us and all that is ours. And this same benignity, which has also given me the courage to approach you, the highest Prelate of the foremost order of the learned, the flower of intellects, with this pious little work published for my Fathers as an exemplar, will also bring it about that you will admit, with your customary humanity, this offering — such as it is — as ^a pledge of our grateful heart and observance; and this I promise myself from your generosity, that you will both foster and embrace, not so much this labor of mine with ^a new patronage, as the entire Congregation with an ancient one.

BOOK ONE

CHAPTER I

Homeland, Birth, Origin.

[2] How singularly the Republic of the Venetians was divinely established at its beginning, both at home and abroad, by the extraordinary prudence of its men and the wise moderation of its laws, The Republic of the Venetians flourishes, and how it has been administered for so many centuries clearly by divine favor, may be understood from this: that one and the same system of government, moderate and harmonious, troubled by no seditions and no internal evil — ^a great proof not only of virtue and prudence, for more than ^a thousand years: but also of heavenly protection and divine aid — has endured most flourishing in wealth and dominion for more than ^a thousand years; and all the more remarkably in that, arising in the adverse and calamitous times of Italy from small beginnings — that is, from men fleeing, who, abhorring servitude, casting aside all their fortunes, threw themselves from the mainland into the waves and tides, so long as they might carry with them their liberty alone — it nevertheless soon reached that greatness of empire which we now look up to with admiration.

[3] The seat and capital of the empire is the city of Venice itself, the most flourishing light of all Italy its capital is Venice, and by far the most opulent emporium; this, among the more illustrious cities of Europe, easily holds the first place for the extraordinary beauty of its situation and nature and the extraordinary skill of its art. For the city everywhere presents itself in so splendid ^a theater and so magnificent ^a display of nature that you could not easily find ^a place more suited to every convenience or more delightful to the sight;

since in shaping that site and forming the city, a city illustrious for the variety of its waterways, nature itself, as though having entered into ^a contest with art, seems to have exerted its powers to increase the dignity and beauty of the place. For, by ^a great miracle of both nature and art, it admits inward numerous Niles and Euripi; by the windings of which, running crosswise, and their wandering meanders, it is washed throughout and divided into ^a delightful prospect. Two Niles traverse the entire city in ^a continuous course; from these the lesser Euripi run crosswise, and the lesser ones intersect and distinguish nearly all the public and private buildings and streets with winding channels, and by their wandering and manifold course flow back, with greater convenience for transport and delivery, into the estuaries and the sea itself; with paths bordered on both sides, or on one side, and built for travel on foot, so that most streets can be approached both on foot and by boat. Stone bridges, excellently constructed, are counted at more than ^a thousand; a thousand bridges, boats, and for transporting people at ^a small fare in any direction, boats, both stationed at fixed crossings and scattered and dispersed throughout the city, are encountered in very great numbers. buildings, Public buildings, and very many private ones as well, exceed common admiration for the elegance of their workmanship and the magnificence of their unusual mass; commerce, filled with ^a very great number of foreigners and merchants frequenting the place. The city is said to be populated by three hundred thousand inhabitants, so that, the multitude overflowing, even the water itself, paved with vessels, is inhabited. the multitude of citizens. Such, in short, is the city that from its appearance, as from the face and dignified expression of the Empire, you may easily infer the remaining majesty of that most august body.

[4] Among the other decrees of this most wise city, this one above all is customary to them: From its ancient nobility that they grant the power of administering the Republic to certain families, most distinguished by ancient nobility from the very beginning of the City, and to no one else. These are considered illustrious and noble; the rest (this is the name peculiar to their order) are called citizens; whose fortunes, although very ample, and whose family origin is very honorable, nevertheless have no share in the government of the city — unless perhaps they are honored with the office of secretary, either at home before the Magistrates or abroad before the Ambassadors to Princes. the Emiliani and Morosini are among them, Among the ancient and more noble families, the Emiliani and the Morosini are especially commended; from which Jerome, whose life we now begin to write, drew his paternal and maternal lineage. the ancestors of Jerome: I shall not review at length the distinctions of both families, since I know that neither by human nor Divine judgment is ^a man's dignity weighed by these things. For among the wise it matters not much from what family you spring, but with how great ^a faith you cultivate piety; nor how many ancestral insignia you count, but whose footsteps you follow; and before God the splendor of human birth has no place, but rather the excellence of divine virtue. Yet I shall not pass over these things with ^a completely deaf ear, since all consider it to be of the greatest importance for the praise of extraordinary probity and sanctity that ^a man, noble at home and illustrious in military service, having despised the glory of his ancestors, having cast aside the insignia, titles, and honors of his family, devoted himself to spiritual warfare and evangelical poverty.

[5] But not to trace the origin of the Emiliani stock all the way back to the Romans, from whom that family, along with the Marcelli, the Emiliani descended from the Romans, Cornelii, Valerii, Quirini, Pisones, and other families of equal nobility, migrated to the Venetians (the last of which, by the corruption of the multitude, with its name distorted, is called Pisana — which also happened to the Emiliani, who in common usage are called Miani) — this above all is established: that Jerome was born of these ancestors on both his father's and mother's side, who are commended with an equal measure of ancient nobility and of piety and devotion toward God. more illustrious for having built the church of Saint Thomas in 917, For in the nine hundred and seventeenth year of our salvation, the illustrious church of the Divine Apostle Thomas was built at Venice by the Emiliani at their private expense; and scarcely ^a year later, the church which is now Sant'Angelo was built by the Morosini in honor of Saint Maurus, the patron of their family.

[6] Ancient records report many members of the Emiliani family illustrious in both arms and the toga. Among them Giovanni Emiliani, who, having captured Tenedos and reduced Corfu to Venetian power and raised the dire siege of Nauplia, was especially celebrated for his glory in military affairs; and another Giovanni, who in that extreme peril of the Republic at Chioggia, fighting strenuously against the Genoese and Carrara, the tyrant of Padua, in military affairs, with the virtue and ardor of the Venetian Doges in that war being equal, protected the Venetian cause when it was nearly destroyed and sustained the Republic on the verge of collapse. Likewise, two Marcos, Procurators of Saint Mark, flourished with outstanding fame for civil prudence; in embassies, of whom one died while serving as the Republic's interpreter before the Emperor of the Turks in the very midst of negotiating the most serious affairs, and the other died in the Prefecture of Canea at ^a difficult time for the Republic. Peter Emiliani, moreover, Bishop of Vicenza, and in the episcopal dignity. is sufficiently commended to the memory of posterity both by the probity of life worthy of ^a sacred prelate and by the most learned literary monuments concerning sacred letters which he left behind — to omit many others of the same rank, conspicuous for the splendor of true nobility.

[7] As for the ancestors of the Morosini, his mother's family, it would be long and beside the point to enumerate those From the Morosini whom either the civic or the sacred purple or military distinction has made illustrious; three Doges of the Republic, besides whom three also Most Serene Princes of the Republic, Dominic, Marino, and Michael, are counted from the same family; which finally the virtue of Tommasina, ^a most select woman, elevated to the supreme pinnacle of honor; and ^a Queen of Hungary. who, in the year one thousand two hundred and eighty-seven, having been joined to Stephen, the most valiant King of Pannonia, by the sacred bond of matrimony, and having left by him Andrew as his successor to the Kingdom, was the first to bring the royal honor into the Morosini family.

[8] Born therefore of these ancestors by ^a most happy birth, our Jerome acknowledges as his parents Angelo Emiliani, ^a most distinguished Senator, and Eleonora (commonly called Dionora), ^a most prudent woman. His father Angelo, his mother Eleonora, A worthy trunk, truly, from which this extraordinary shoot should blossom, whom, after Lucas, Charles, and Marc-Antonio had already been born, they received in last place, in the year from the saving birth of our Savior Jerome is born in the year 1481, one thousand four hundred and eighty-one, when Sixtus the Fourth had already presided over the sacred affairs at Rome for the tenth year, and Giovanni Mocenigo over the Venetian dominion for the fifth year. What day was his birthday, however, the authorities report nothing certain. Carried to the saving waters and expiatory fonts of the parish in which his paternal household was enrolled, and cleansed of his original stain, he was called from the life-giving font, at his parents' command, Jerome — clearly by divine will, lest ^a name redolent of future sanctity should seem to be wanting to so great ^a splendor of birth. While still an infant, his parents commended him all the more earnestly to the Lord, inasmuch as the love and indulgence of parents toward their younger children is usually greater; nor were the prayers poured forth in vain; for, having in time rivaled by his deeds the sanctity indicated by the augural name, he was made far more illustrious by his own praise than by that of his ancestors, and rendered the ancient insignia of his family more illustrious by new ornaments of virtue.

CHAPTER II

Character, Boyhood Education, Study of Letters.

[9] When the cradle of early childhood had been passed, the first signs of his hidden nature that appeared endowed with an excellent disposition, declared an outstanding and distinguished disposition for every virtue. There was in him an elegance of countenance and aspect; ^a festiveness and charm

in speaking, yet not entirely childish and soft, but breathing ^a certain ancestral dignity. Already at that time there shone forth that keen and teachable intellect, ready to be drawn in whatever direction one wished; and also quick movements of soul, yet noble ones, which, if stirred toward virtue by an excellent teacher, would have produced the most abundant fruits in every kind of study. In short, amid the highest ornaments of fortune, the first ornaments of good character were not lacking. From the first light of day one could easily have conjectured the remainder.

Nor indeed did his parents wish so excellent ^a disposition in the boy to be left destitute of care and attention: he is imbued with pious habits by his mother: but by the diligence of his most devout mother, his still tender soul was imbued with the Christian religion, the mysteries of our faith, and its chief articles, and was formed in all piety; so that by firm practice he grew accustomed to attend the holy sacrifice daily, to pour forth set prayers twice ^a day, to visit sacred churches frequently, to venerate priests and sacred images most highly, and to take delight and pleasure in those same small images of the saints. The seeds of so excellent ^a piety were not committed to entirely barren soil; which, although at times overgrown with the dense thorns and brambles of vices, nevertheless, with roots cast in this earliest age, at length brought forth abundant fruits of solid virtue.

[10] As soon as his age permitted, with suitable teachers engaged, by the facility of his intellect and that first ardor of learning, from the study of letters at the age of fifteen he made such progress in his studies in ^a short time that he surpassed his peers in the praise of docility and industry. He was in his studies until about his fifteenth year. Then (as that age is equally impatient of labor and desirous of liberty), drawn away for ^a time from his first ardor of studies by the new military disturbances of those times, he shortly turned his thoughts and the pursuits of his mind entirely in another direction, he turns to arms. and, having made ^a divorce with the Muses, he began to delight in arms and military service, his relatives bearing it indignantly, and his mother protesting most vehemently. But he, with his mind set firm upon arms, at last prevailed over his advisors, by ^a most wretched victory, as it then indeed seemed, but one which at length, by divine providence, would salutarily overcome the victor himself. For since all things work together for good for the elect, it is not at all to be doubted that it came about by the hidden will of God and celestial instinct that, before he should undertake the spiritual war against spiritual wickedness, he would be exercised by battles and victories against visible enemies, and that from there the first beginning of eternal salvation would arise, from where the most certain destruction of everlasting damnation had been threatening.

But his first rudiments of military service must be related more carefully. For those who wrote about the deeds of Jerome before me agree that, when he was still quite ^a young man, he abandoned the study of letters with great distress to his relatives and mother, through the ardor of new war; yet in what expedition he first took up arms, we have received no distinct account from anyone. For what they add concerning the prefecture of Castelnuovo, where the first seeds of his conversion were sown by divine agency, is not of such ^a nature that it could either apply to this immature age, or could have occurred with any distress to his relatives and mother: since, being already nearly thirty years old, sufficiently mature for that office, and having survived his mother herself by several years, he undertook that prefecture; which things, with the clear light of history leading the way, can in no way be called into doubt. Therefore, by what other disturbances he was first roused to arms must be related.

CHAPTER III

When He First Passed to Arms.

[11] Since indeed in obscure and difficult matters, nearly buried by antiquity, even to have doubted well is no small praise, let it be permitted to us, in ^a matter so very ancient and not very clearly explained by writers, to conjecture as though divining -- yet on this condition, that our conjecture may appear most closely allied to the truth. This will not, I think, be difficult to show, since this one occasion of war among the Venetians, which I shall now subjoin, fell within this period of Jerome's life, which easily drew him away from his studies to arms. The beginnings of this most grave war must be briefly traced from the very start. The Kingdom of Naples having been seized by Charles VIII, King of France, Charles the Eighth, King of France, having undertaken an expedition against the Aragonese Neapolitan Kings, crossed into Italy with ^a great army, and with none of our Princes opposing him, having traversed nearly all of Italy most peaceably in ^a few days, with no hazard of war, no chance of adverse fortune interposed, having driven the Aragonese from the Neapolitan kingdom, he seized the rule of that province in ^a few months. Puffed up wonderfully by the pride of this victory, this young King, inflamed most vehemently both by nature itself, by zeal for glory, and by ^a vast desire of extending his empire, seemed to be destining the rest of Italy for himself in his mind; when the remaining Princes, not unaware how destructive an intestine and domestic war, brought by foreigners and confirmed by so great ^a victory, would be for all Italy -- and when, with the power of the Aragonese so easily destroyed, everyone feared certain ruin impending for their own affairs from the insolent victor -- all resolved to oppose themselves to Charles as he plotted new schemes most pernicious to the liberty of Italy; the friends of the French equally fearing, as much as his enemies, lest all things would at last yield to the too greatly increased power of the victor. For to these latter, certain destruction seemed to be expected from an enemy victor; while to the former, no certain safety from ^a friendly one. So rare and unusual in the height of victory is an example of the highest moderation amid the insane lust of men for domination.

[12] Therefore the Venetians, zealous for the dignity of Italy, desiring it to be free from danger and liberated from the terror of arms, called others together into ^a common alliance of league; and the league was entered into in the year 1495, and ^a league having been formed against him by various parties in the year 1495, when Agostino Barbarigo had already exercised the ducal dignity among the Venetians for ten years. The Supreme Pontiff Alexander the Sixth, the Emperor Maximilian, Ferdinand King of Spain, and Ludovico Sforza himself -- the author and instigator of Charles's war -- and the lords of Este and Gonzaga, joined with the Venetians by the oath of the league. The league was promulgated under this pretext: that, with peace preserved among the allies, the conflagrations of wars would be kept from Italy by common arms, and its liberty, and the authority and majesty of the Supreme Pontiff, would be preserved; the allies would protect the dominion of each; and, so that these measures might appear to be taken without injury to Charles, ^a place in the league was not denied even to him, if, friendly to the allies, he abstained from their territories with hostile sword. But he, upon receiving the news of the league, understanding very well what purpose lay beneath it, violently enraged against the allies, about to bring utter ruin upon their affairs, soon departed from the Neapolitan kingdom. When all clearly understood by this news that destruction from the Frenchman threatened their affairs beyond doubt, in order to repel so great and so near ^a danger by mutual assistance according to the law of the league, each one hastened with the greatest speed to levy the soldiers assigned to them: and with the Venetian Senate -- whose empire was the most ample in Italy -- he is believed to have been enrolled in the military, most zealously attending to this, ^a most select band of noble men flowed together into the camp of the allies, to protect the commonwealth; among whom I am persuaded that Jerome was present, if at this age (as the authorities relate) he was in arms.

[13] This could not fail to be most distressing to his mother; for shortly before, having been robbed of her dearest husband Angelo, at ^a sufficiently vigorous age, in the very course of great honors, by ^a death no less untimely than bitter, she bore with ^a most resentful spirit that this youngest-born son, his widowed mother grieving, who among the others recalled his father, as the sole consolation left for her present bereavement, should at that age be far from her in her widowhood of the marriage-bed; then indeed she knew that by the free license of military life, the not yet sufficiently established morals of young men are undermined, chastity is undoubtedly shaken, and the conceived sparks of piety are lulled to sleep -- those amatory and baser sparks that had lain hidden at home under the ashes of modesty being aroused. Besides these things, she greatly feared for Jerome the various hazards and perils that ^a soldier must face, and the uncertain and generally adverse outcomes of war -- in him alone she had placed extraordinary hope for the signal honor of the family and the praise of great deeds.

Wherefore, since love, and hope, and fear, and the prolonged absence that wonderfully torments maternal hearts, kept her anxious, she left nothing untried: she engaged friends, interposed relatives, left no stone unturned to deter her son from his adopted resolution. But he, whether by the military voices of his friends, or by that innate greatness of spirit, with the alacrity of his nature spurring him toward arduous and extraordinary things, or because he judged military pursuits to be superior to literary ones for the honor of his family and the attainment of offices in the Republic -- overcome by neither prayers nor difficulties, having shaken off the yoke of maternal servitude, he joyfully accepted the yoke of depraved liberty and military license, his neck submitted: still ignorant that the supreme form of servitude is the license of youth. Therefore, in his fifteenth year, he was bound by the military oath: at which age also Saint Martin is said to have served his first military terms.

[14] The total outcome of the whole war was finally this. The French having attacked the Venetians, With the Venetians victorious, his service ended, with the approval of the legates Melchiore Trevisan and Luca Pisani, battle was joined in the territory of Parma on the bank of the river Taro with such favorable outcome that, with the victorious army routed and the most opulent spoils of so great ^a victory seized, it was not far from the Venetian Senate giving laws to Italy. And these things we offer as though divining, amid so great an obscurity of events, lest we seem to put forth an uncertain matter as certain. But let us pursue the rest, which we have received more clearly and more distinctly.

CHAPTER IV

The Depraved Morals of Adolescence.

[15] First of all, it is certain that from that age Jerome was so delighted with military pursuits that he handled nothing with pleasure except arms: to which he had devoted himself wholly and his entire life with great ardor for praise, With warlike ardor because, having learned that the greatest wars by both land and sea sometimes threatened the Republic, he understood it to be of the greatest importance for the immortality of his name and the eternal honor of his family, if it should fall to him either to defend the Republic when harassed by foreign wars, or to extend the borders of the Empire further by arms. But that noble handling of arms, which was afterward not so displeasing to his mother, was accompanied by the corrupt morals of military life, by which that class of men is accustomed to be defiled. For having followed the camps, he had contracted from them the usual vices and stains: indeed he had imbibed such martial and fierce spirits that his bold soul and that savage temper constantly betrayed themselves; given to the vices of anger, for growing exceedingly angry even over the most trivial matters, he was so carried away by fury of spirit that he could scarcely be endured. This vice of ungovernable anger so gradually passed into his nature that he afterward labored more assiduously to purge his soul of the single impulse of anger than of the other vices; yet once his irascibility was calmed, nothing was milder than he, nothing more humane. Military glory was more important to him than either the praise of letters or even of Christian piety. In forming friendships, or in cultivating, once established and confirmed, the mutual offices of benevolence, he was most zealous. From this it came about that he was uniquely dear to his peers, and all took delight in his company and friendship; to whom, however, and of luxury: driven by ^a depraved sense of nature and incited by the impetuosity of youthful age, he showed himself not so much ^a faithful companion in friendship as ^a most diligent leader in the perpetration of wickedness. For, beguiled by the madness of amorous passion and the enticements of pleasures, lulled by the blandishments of nature, he readily obeyed all his desires; in which he miserably consumed the flower of his age, with great loss to himself and ^a pernicious example to his companions for imitation.

[16] His mother, that most prudent woman, then perceived that she had been no uncertain diviner and prophetess concerning his morals, admonished by his mother in vain, when she first began to oppose his military pursuits. She often summoned Jerome to her and attempted to recall him to sounder counsel by maternal exhortations, the most salutary advice, and prayers; to rebuke him severely, to reprove him, to execrate his impiety and youthful audacity, to entreat him to adopt ^a character worthy of his birth. But the prayers poured forth even with tears were in vain. To these were added the more severe reproaches of his brothers, by whom and reproached by his brothers: it was most frequently attempted, if by chance they might be able to soften his spirit, so firmly set and so hard in wickedness, by some means. But he had bitten the bit; one who seemed not to be restrained by reproaches, as by ^a bridle applied, but rather to be driven to worse things, as by sharp goads; which we are reminded by the voice of the Holy Spirit is the nature of the wicked.

But it was so permitted by heavenly decree, that the force and strength of divine grace might shine forth more splendidly; which suddenly transforms wills long hardened in wickedness and morals long confirmed in evil, and from those who were exceedingly wicked produces those who are excellently holy. Moreover, although by that military license, with the reins of all vices loosened, he seemed to rush headlong into the utter destruction of his soul, with absolutely no one restraining him; yet from time to time certain human considerations he is corrected by the fear of rejection in the pursuit of offices: wonderfully moderated the dissolute morals of his age and the dangerous liberty of youth. For when he understood that magistracies in the Republic were conferred not so much on nobility as on virtue and integrity of morals, he greatly feared lest his own vices, having damaged his reputation for morals among the Senators, would prevent him from attaining the offices proposed for noble men. And so that burning thirst for honors, and that most ardent desire for great advancement in the Republic, which had vehemently inflamed his spirit, sometimes recalled him from crimes to frugality and ^a manner of living worthy of ^a free man. So miserable, or so blind, are the minds of men, who consider human laws more potent than divine, and are more easily governed by the glory of earthly ambition than by the discipline of Christian piety.

CHAPTER V

He Is Again Called to Arms at ^a Most Difficult Time for the Republic.

[17] Only ^a few years after that storm had subsided, another more turbulent tempest arose, and, by some unlucky and adverse star of the Republic, the affairs of the Venetians are embroiled in ^a new whirlwind of war. It pleases me to trace from the very beginning ^a matter celebrated in the writings of many, in ^a digression neither long nor alien to the course of the narrative. The Emperor Maximilian, having been stripped of several noble towns of German territory near the Carnic ridges A league by the Emperor, through the efforts of Liviani, the Venetian general, and harassed by war with no dissimilar outcome at the passes of Trent, being vehemently hostile to the Venetians, began to conceive in his mind the destruction of their Empire, and to contrive it in fact. But he did not rashly think that so great ^a war against ^a Republic insuperable by land and sea in troops and resources should be undertaken unless, by the common consent and forces of all the Princes of Europe, arms were directed against the Venetians; all of whom he did not doubt, by ^a sure conjecture, would most easily assent to him; and the outcome matched his wishes. For he who then presided over sacred affairs, Julius the Second, hostile in spirit toward the Venetians, the Pontiff, did not at all refuse the undertaking, because the principal cities of Rimini, Faenza, and Ravenna, seized from the Pontifical dominion and repeatedly demanded back, were by no means being returned. Louis, King of France, deeply grieved that Cremona, Brescia, and other cities had been taken from the Milanese dominion. Ferdinand, King of Spain, considered his possession of the Neapolitan Kingdom less secure and intact, since the maritime cities of the Apulians -- Trani, Monopoli, by the Kings of France and Spain, Brindisi, Otranto, Barletta, Siponto -- having not long ago been pledged by the Aragonese, were held by the garrison and authority of the Venetians. The Duke of Ferrara coveted Rovigo; the Marquis of Mantua coveted Asola in the Brescian territory, and Peschiera; and other Princes, nor was there scarcely any Prince who did not assert that some part of the Venetian Empire belonged to his own dominion, by whatever right. Therefore all the Princes of Europe are summoned, as though to ^a solemn decree of sacred war; and ^a congress is appointed for them at Cambrai among the Morini in Belgium; where their ambassadors gathered in great numbers on the appointed day. The sum of the entire deliberation was that all, allied in one league of war, should undertake war against the Venetians with common troops and forces; and, what was of great consequence, the oath of secrecy was observed by all with such great solemnity entered into in 1508, that the calamity of that war reached the Venetians sooner than any suspicion. The year 1508 from the birthday of Christ was being numbered when the plans of war began to be secretly agitated and so great ^a conflagration began to be kindled; the flame of which then erupted in the year 1509, on the fourth of the Ides of December. The Venetians are attacked in 1509: The war arose all the more fearsome inasmuch as its beginnings had been more concealed.

[18] It is not credible with what ardor of spirit, with what bitter hatreds, with what great fury the fighting was conducted on both sides. The Senate, upon receiving the news of so grave an expedition of all the Princes, in the greatest perturbation and crisis of affairs, they resist bravely, neither overcome by fear nor conquered by grief, retained its ancient constancy; and with ^a brave and resolute spirit sets about prosecuting its rights by war and aiding the struggling Republic and its tottering affairs. By land and sea, with all the speed that could be achieved, it levied soldiers, assembled forces, fortified the borders of its dominion. When they were being fiercely assailed by all, the most extreme calamity seemed to threaten especially from the Emperor alone, who, inflamed with mortal hatred against the Venetians, seemed unlikely to desist from arms before he had given the Venetian Empire over to destruction; for he had assembled so great ^a band of warriors that in the abundance of soldiers he nearly surpassed all the other allies by himself, for he is reported to have had one hundred thousand armed men under his standards. With this army he had invaded at the first assault that part of Friuli which it was of the greatest importance to the Republic to protect. Accordingly, generals having been sent with an army for this purpose, the defense of Castelnuovo committed to Jerome, Jerome is appointed Praetor of Castelnuovo with three centuries of soldiers. The Prefect of the fortress was Andrea Rimondo. Having gone there, Jerome diligently performed everything that befits an excellent commander: to survey the entire place carefully, to strengthen the less protected parts, to clean out the moat and, with the rubble removed, to deepen it further, to arrange the wall-mounted artillery properly along the ramparts, to assign their posts to the garrisons, to omit nothing by which he might oppose the approaching enemy, whom he was hearing was already imminent with the higher positions having been conquered. Nor was he wearied by long expectation; for the main force of so great an army, having plundered Bassano and Asolo in the Euganean hills, and having devastated other places with fires, slaughter, and pillaging, at length occupied the territory of Treviso, and on the vigil of Saint Augustine, the sixth of the Kalends of September August 27 in the year 1511, this great weight of war turned toward Castelnuovo. The place is situated on the bank of the Piave River, in ^a region situated on the Piave River, whose name is Quero, in the Alps above the borders of Treviso, elevated on ^a gentle ridge, strongly fortified by both art and nature; which place the Imperials, seeing that it greatly hindered their plans, determined that they absolutely had to attack and storm.

CHAPTER VI

The Imperials Assault Castelnuovo with ^a Fierce Attack.

[19] Commanding the Emperor's forces was Palisse, ^a general of great renown. He, having led out his forces, presents himself in sight of the fortress, the Imperials attack Castelnuovo, and displays so great ^a multitude for the townspeople to see from ^a suitable location, thinking perhaps that the besieged, trembling and struck with fear at the sight of the enemy's numbers, would surrender. And had it not been for Jerome, the outcome would have answered his wishes. Swift envoys appear, admonishing Jerome to withdraw from the fortress, threatening the worst if surrender were either refused or delayed. Jerome's response to these demands was brief: that he held his life devoted to the liberty of his country; and that he had therefore resolved to yield his life rather than the place; let the Emperor try Venetian courage wherever he wished -- he would strike the breast presented to his weapons, but would never see the back of one retreating. That response was an incitement to Palisse's rage and fierce savagery, who resolved to settle the matter at once by arms and engines of war, and began to batter the walls of the town with bronze cannon. The missiles hurled against the walls by the war machines, some of stone, some of iron, at first did little harm to the fortifications; but whatever fell within the walls, demolishing buildings, wrought great destruction. But at length, by prolonged bombardment and continued battering of the walls over many days, they batter it with artillery: enormous iron balls discharged from the larger cannon, with ^a terrible sound resounding far and wide in every direction, so shattered the walls of the town that, with the joints loosened in many places, ^a very great part of the wall collapsed and opened ^a way for the enemy to break in.

[20] Therefore, with the bombardment by artillery having ceased, the soldiers were awaiting the signal to plunder the town. The Venetians, their spirits shattered by so dreadful ^a devastation of the walls, [the besieged, with the Prefect of the fortress having deserted to the enemy, are dismayed,] had begun to despair of their safety. Andrea Rimondo, the Prefect of the fortress, since he plainly distrusted that he could sustain the siege any further, and was saying so openly, at last, by ^a plan full of treachery and perfidy, slipped away secretly from the fortress and from the town in the dead of night, and provided for himself by the most disgraceful flight. This affair most gravely offended Jerome for the reason that it weakened and broke the spirits of the soldiers with fear, and cast the townspeople into such despair they are encouraged by Jerome, that they were openly discussing surrender, and nothing was nearer than that the enemy should be invited to ^a parley. When Jerome perceived this, he most vehemently rebuked them all in an assembly: to what point of madness had they descended, that they should be moved by the example of ^a most contemptible deserter and ^a man contaminated by the crime of perfidy? Let them understand well that not only could nothing more disgraceful than that surrender befall them, which would disfigure them, marked with the signal infamy of dishonor; but also that, because they had been moved by the act of ^a perfidious man to turn to such counsels, they had incurred no light stain of disgrace. Therefore let them not lose heart, let them cast aside such nefarious counsels, let them adopt ^a character worthy of the Venetian name. For himself, the fame of glory and the defense of the fatherland were more precious than any life whatsoever; let them therefore follow, as the best citizens and bravest soldiers, their most loving Father and Commander.

[21] Having spoken these and very many other things with ^a truly military bearing and incredible ardor of spirit, he so confirmed them all they repeatedly repel the invading soldier; that, with their fear laid aside, they desired nothing except battle, in which they promised to defend the town to their very last breath. And their deeds matched their words. For when the signal to plunder the town was given, the Germans attempt to break in by force through the ruins of the wall, making their assault at more than one point within the fortifications.

But, with Jerome as their leader and the Venetians fighting bravely in opposition, the first assaults of the Germans were repulsed with great slaughter of their own men. Then Jerome, by works both day and night, they restore the fortifications: set about repairing the wall where he could, throwing up new defenses at exposed points, having the soldiers and townspeople carry earth, constructing ^a rampart, and by whatever means possible obstructing the approach. Nor was the labor entirely in vain; for the place, which had previously appeared to the enemy as though it could be easily taken by ^a light discharge of artillery and one or two assaults of soldiers, by Jerome's valor was made to appear nearly impregnable, or at least not to be stormed except at the greatest cost to the enemy. For now, having attacked the town ^a third time, they had always been denied entry with great slaughter and ignominy to their own forces.

[22] Palisse was now somewhat ashamed to be detained so long by so small ^a number of the enemy, whereupon he resolved to bring up greater forces and to deploy the chosen flower of so great an army against the few. by ^a fierce assault, And so, with the signal for battle given, ^a more vigorous attack than ever before was launched. He sends in first the most select soldiers and the flower of the entire army, to test the approach to the fortress vigorously. He orders auxiliary forces to follow and support those who grew weary. So that, with no rest given to our men either for repairing the wall or for pausing from battle, the hope of victory would be more certain, since fresh troops would always be attacking the weary. although aroused by the leading example of Jerome, Emiliani, though he perceived that so great ^a weight of war bore down upon him alone and upon very few soldiers, and those broken by labors, and that he must fight at many points simultaneously against ^a numerous and fresh enemy; nevertheless, what would scarcely seem credible, he stood firm in spirit and in strength. He exhorted his soldiers splendidly and deployed them skillfully. He took his position in the front line and demanded for himself the more dangerous post and assignment. By the example and valor of their commander, the rest were so confirmed in spirit that they did not hesitate to receive the assault of the army, to sustain it by fighting most fiercely for ^a long time, and to keep it from the town. But those whom, besides the labors and wounds of combat, both prolonged and nocturnal watches were wearing out, could not endure the long and ever more ardent siege any further: for, on account of their small numbers, deployed in nearly constant watches around the fortifications, they were forced to spend days and nights in arms. The enemy easily made good these losses from his great abundance of soldiers, since others and still others continually filled the abandoned guard posts.

And so, with fresh Germans always succeeding one another in shifts and with undiminished strength, he is overcome, at last the valor of the few yielded to the multitude. For the wall had been pierced and demolished in so many places that, when the Venetians -- whom, besides the other difficulties of war mentioned above, their own ever-increasing scarcity of numbers was exhausting -- appeared exceedingly few in number and those exhausted by perpetual labor and wounds, and the Germans were pouring in one after another through the open entrance, the town having been taken by force: their force and numbers could no longer be resisted. And so, straining with all their might and making irruptions simultaneously at many points, they at last gained possession of the fortress -- but by ^a victory not without bloodshed.

CHAPTER VII

Castelnuovo Having Been Sacked, Jerome Is Consigned to Prison.

[23] In so difficult and bloody ^a siege, the extraordinary and singular valor of both the soldiers and the townspeople truly shone forth; although nearly all at last either perished miserably, torn apart by the foul laceration of the artillery, many perish, or, surrounded by the enemy forces and fighting bravely, yielded to the multitude at the ultimate peril of their lives. Of the men of Belluno who had hastened there to give aid, two lesser commanders, Michele Pagano and Vittore da Croce, are recorded to have fallen with great praise for their bravery. Nothing further has been ascertained about Rimondo's flight. But Jerome's military valor and prudence are especially to be admired. For he, both by fighting bravely before the foremost standards, and by deploying his soldiers in suitable positions, and by fortifying swiftly wherever the situation demanded, and finally by performing all military duties with energy, earned the praise of both the bravest warrior and the most outstanding commander, even by the testimony of his enemies.

But by no great interval did the valor of the victors in that siege equal the inhumanity of the Germans in the sacking of the town. For, having first entered the town, or are slaughtered by the victors: it is scarcely credible what spectacles of unheard-of savagery and barbarous cruelty they exhibited, whether driven to madness by the valor of the soldiers in resisting, or by so great ^a slaughter of their own men. For, with soldiers and townspeople cut down everywhere, they raged in indiscriminate slaughter against armed and unarmed alike, with no distinction of sex or age; the bodies even of the slain townspeople and soldiers were subjected to further savagery. And so, in ^a short time, by ^a most foul and confused slaughter of all ranks and ages, they so disfigured the place that they seemed unable to be sated with human blood.

[24] However, in so horrible ^a calamity of all things, amid so great ^a number of the wounded, it was equal to ^a miracle that Jerome alone, Jerome is captured, who was stirring up the battle most fiercely among the front ranks, at whose throat nearly all were aiming, having produced so great ^a slaughter of the enemy before the eyes of all, fell alive and without having received any wound into the hands of the enemy. With him captured, there was an end to the fighting: the Germans congratulate one another on the victory won with so great effort and blood. The well-known valor of Emiliani, and his military courage tested at great cost to them, rendered the prize more illustrious; they present him to Palisse as ^a distinguished trophy of their victory. He is shut in ^a foul prison: Palisse orders Jerome to be thrust into ^a foul and dark prison, narrowly hewn in the bottom of ^a tower, and commands that the crime of the most audacious man be avenged with due punishments (for so he called it) -- because he had in no way consented to surrender, because he had splendidly defended the position to the very end with equal courage and fidelity. Here he was fed only on bread and cold water; iron chains bound his hands and feet; he is tortured with starvation and chains: an iron collar encircled his neck in the fashion of ^a slave, from which hung ^a short chain of two or three links with ^a marble ball; this was ^a cannonball of no small size, added either to torment him while resting at night, or to weary him while wakeful during the day; or, if he should attempt flight, to retard his running by the frequent blow of the ball striking against his back or chest; and lest any of his limbs should enjoy rest, to the heavy stench of the prison, the narrowness and darkness of the place, were added various tortures of the body: for by the Duke's edict he was exquisitely tortured with bitter punishments every day.

[25] Having suffered the bitterness of prison and the cruelty of the Germans in that place for many days, Jerome expected nothing further in mortal danger than that the final sentence would be pronounced upon his life. But divine goodness anticipated the counsels of men; for while he feared the imminent danger of this life from mortals, he received from the immortal God the most certain beginnings of eternal life, and that place which seemed most full of miseries and calamities, he is raised by God to ^a better life: not long afterward became most joyful with celestial consolation and the alleviation of the greatest sufferings. For God declared, by ^a singular and unheard-of miracle, utterly worthy of the admiration of succeeding posterity, that in so great military labors and so manifest dangers of life He intended not the ultimate destruction of the body, but ^a salutary opportunity for meriting eternal salvation. This is the singular remedy of divine goodness: that those whom it cannot entice to virtue by benefits, it strives to call back from wickedness by sterner punishments. For the prolonged habit of sinning so overlays the souls of the wicked with ^a callousness of impiety, and so envelops their senses, given over to desires, with ^a kind of monstrous torpor, that they admit no motions of divine grace, no voices of interior calling, to their ears -- unless, crushed and weakened by the blows of an angry deity, they learn at last not to spurn the remedy.

This singular benefit of celestial providence shone forth wonderfully in Jerome during that time; who, having too long abused divine benignity to his own destruction, was roused from the darkness of his sins to behold the light of honesty in that dark prison covered with filth. But since this is the most worthy of commemoration among all the things that occurred in his life -- because from it arose the beginnings of so signal ^a subsequent piety -- the purpose of the work I have undertaken compels me to pursue the sequence of this great event in ^a narrative if not equal to it, at least ample, so that the diligence of the writer may serve at least in some part the divine beneficence, or at least may appear to have detracted the least possible by his negligence.

CHAPTER VIII

He Is Freed from Prison by ^a Signal Miracle of the Most Blessed Virgin.

[26] In that prison no heavier trouble weighed upon Jerome than the thought of ^a bitter and cruel death, the danger of which he did not doubt threatened him at every moment from the cruel enemy. Turning this thought over in his mind for ^a long time, he is tormented by sorrow for his sins, he was vehemently moved, and began seriously to deliberate within himself salutary counsels, not so much concerning the safety of his body as of his soul. Destitute of all human help, he reflected that his sole remaining refuge lay in divine protection; yet the sins of his past life, which occurred to his mind in great number and of the gravest kind, prevented him from daring to invoke it with confidence; deterred by the consciousness of these, he greatly feared that his prayers would scarcely find ^a place before the divine mercy.

But God at last looked upon him, already sufficiently worn down by torments, prison, and fasting, and afflicted by the consciousness of his sins, as the splendor of divine light and the sweet power of celestial grace poured themselves more freely into his soul. By this benefit he began to be so tormented by the gravity and turpitude of his sins that the sorrow for having offended God now tortured his soul far more than the grief of his present calamity. And now he understood that heavenly wrath had been justly provoked against him, and that divine justice -- which he had so long scorned by his crimes and unbridled lust, and whose authority he had even rejected by repudiating its most holy laws -- was demanding the just punishments for his sins. Wherefore, with tears streaming forth, he cried out that he had been justly excluded from divine guardianship and protection, and brought to the supreme danger of his life and salvation; because he had always rejected with an ungrateful spirit the beneficence of celestial grace; because, though so often admonished in so many ways by divine mercy concerning his salvation, he had nevertheless striven to add ^a great accumulation of impiety to his former crimes with each passing day.

[27] While he turned these and many other things over in his mind from great sorrow of soul and an abundance of tears, and seemed to be carried miserably almost to the furthest rocks of despair, suddenly, with ^a breeze of the celestial Deity gently blowing upon his breast, he invokes Our Lady of Treviso, he was borne into the most peaceful harbor of salvation. For there entered his nearly destitute soul the memory of the Virgin Mother of God of Treviso, whom he recalled had been given to mortals as the Mother of Mercy, the sole consolation of miseries, and appointed by God as the most certain refuge for sinners in their extreme distress. In the protection of this most blessed Virgin, therefore, he judges that the safeguards of his salvation should be placed; if he should employ her as his Patroness and Advocate before God, he promises himself the certain pardon of his sins and the aid of eternal salvation.

And so, ^a prayer, grave and pious, was immediately poured forth to the Virgin -- not so much with ^a long circuit of words as with an interior affection of the soul and ^a torrent of tears: that she would not neglect him, wretched though he was and unworthy of her patronage and protection, beset by so many calamities and oppressed by so many evils; that he was one of those Christian sinners, and ^a notorious one at that, to whom Christ had given ^a Mother of Mercy and ^a common refuge; therefore let the most merciful Queen of heaven and Mother of God not despise her most abject servant, commended to her by her Son; let her speedily come to the aid of one nearly despairing of the safety and preservation of his soul; let her seek from her angered Son pardon and peace for his sins and crimes, which he confessed to be innumerable; let not the Patroness desert her client, the Queen her servant, the universal Mother of Mercy her son lying in filth and squalor. He makes various vows: To these prayers he bound himself by the obligation of ^a vow: that he would visit that same sacred church of Treviso on bare feet, and there would arrange at his own expense for ^a certain number of Masses to be said, and would publicly testify to so signal ^a benefit by voice and votive tablets.

[28] Assuredly, the prayers and vows were dear to God and to the most blessed Virgin: for Jerome had scarcely finished them when, to him as he prayed and supplicated with many tears, the Mother of God appearing in wondrous beauty, the Mother of God presented herself, clad in ^a white garment, surrounded by celestial light, and conspicuous with ^a plainly divine majesty, and dispelled and put to flight the darkness of the prison with the unusual and indescribable splendor of her radiance. For from her eyes and countenance, and indeed from the whole body of the most exalted Virgin, such brightness shone forth that he could neither fix the gaze of his eyes upon her, nor endure the brilliance radiating from her for long. And so, unaccustomed to spectacles of this kind, struck with terror, trembling in all his limbs, he waited to see what was happening; he is raised up: when the blessed Virgin, looking kindly upon Jerome and addressing him by his own name, bade him be of good courage and cheerful countenance, free from all care: his prayers and vows, with her as his Advocate and Patroness, had been graciously accepted by her Son.

He, his spirit raised, attempted to gaze upon his Patroness, but could not do so easily; and when, beguiled by ^a certain pleasure of eyes and soul, he strove to contemplate her more attentively and keenly, he felt the sharpness of his gaze so struck and nearly blunted by the great force of the rays that he could have gazed far more easily upon the blazing face of the noonday sun. Wherefore, still doubtful in mind, he thinks himself deceived by some slight image of sleep; when the blessed Virgin adds to what she had begun, bidding him fulfill his vows and adopt henceforth plans for ^a more amended life; then, extending her hand to him, she offers him keys, with which she commands him to open both his chains and the doors of the prison and to depart wherever he wishes.

The fulfilled promise confirmed the truth of the vision; for he, prompt to obey, having received the keys and opened his chains and prison, he is freed from prison: perceived that the image of so great things was no empty one. Then he turned to his celestial Patroness, full of veneration and wholly poured out in thanksgiving. But she, vanishing in ^a moment into the thin air, filled the most joyful Jerome with the greatest sorrow at her departure; who at last, with words and tears, grief and joy intermingled, having given thanks to the Virgin Mother of God with the deepest affection of his heart, goes forth free from the prison.

CHAPTER IX

By ^a New Miracle He Is Led to Treviso.

[29] He carried out of the prison (so that some everlasting monument of so great ^a benefit might remain for posterity, and his faith be proved) the keys delivered to him from heaven, together with the manacles, he brings out the keys and chains: and fetters with the marble ball, and the remaining instruments of cruelty, stripped of all other garments except his inner tunic. Adorned -- rather than burdened -- with this baggage, as though with ^a trophy of his victory, he sets out on the road. But soon another more serious danger threatens: for he had scarcely advanced ^a few paces when he falls in with the Emperor's army and sees the entire road occupied by armed and vigilant soldiers. Emiliani grew pale and his spirit collapsed at the sudden encounter with the enemy: through the Imperial soldiers, and, human resources failing, he turns to divine refuges. He invokes again his Patroness and Lady, praying that, having snatched him from the present danger, she would guide him safely by ^a sure path. Nor were his prayers in vain; for he had scarcely completed them

when the most blessed Virgin, bearing the same appearance and aspect as before, is at hand, the Mother of God showing the way, and immediately heaps miracle upon miracle: she grasps his hand, bids him follow without fear, and leads him through the midst of the enemy, bearing his iron chains, invisible to all other eyes. She added moreover this further mark of singular benevolence: that she offered herself as companion to him who did not know the way to Treviso, he comes to Treviso: until the walls of the city came into view. Then the guardian Goddess and companion of Jerome suddenly snatched herself from his sight with wondrous swiftness, his mind having been illuminated and suffused with ^a new and unwonted splendor of divine light at the very moment of her departure, and ^a hidden fire of divine love having been kindled in his heart. And would that it were here permitted to mortal tongue to report the most sweet and truly celestial exhortations of the blessed Virgin.

[30] Having entered the city, he goes to the church of the most blessed Virgin, he fulfills his vows, and having given thanks to the Son and Mother in ^a long and pious prayer, he proclaims to all the event of the new miracle; he faithfully discharges the obligation of his vow regarding the promised Masses; he arranges for ^a votive tablet, which would perpetually testify by inscription and painting to the outcome of the marvelous event and the memory of the benefit received, together with the manacles, he hangs up the keys and chains: fetters, the collar of the neck, and the marble ball, to be hung from the highest vault of the dome, and he commands the entire affair to be recorded in writing and certified by public attestation, in the order in which it occurred.

It is indeed greatly to be lamented that the keys delivered from heaven by the most holy Virgin perished by the unfortunate event of the fire which consumed that church many years ago. Therefore the remaining objects, which survived intact, selected from the common mass of votive offerings, are preserved with singular devotion in the inner part of the altar, enclosed by the same iron railings within which the image of the most holy Virgin is kept, and are displayed only at the pious request of visitors. The fetters, moreover, are not of the kind that we are accustomed to use, closed with an iron bolt, but of the kind we sometimes put on horses turned out to pasture, fastened together by ^a short chain of links.

Jerome, having duly completed these rites at Treviso, he departs for Venice. hastens to Venice in the same attire, publicly proclaiming the signal benefit of the blessed Virgin through the streets and crossroads in the great Piazza of Saint Mark, with very many people mocking the man as though he were ^a madman narrating dreams; others not fully accepting the doubtful credibility and suspect nature of the event; but ^a great many, to whom Jerome's character had long been known as alien to any suspicion of fabrication and vanity, standing in amazement at the outcome of the marvelous event.

CHAPTER X

Military Affairs Having Been Settled, Emiliani Is Appointed to Castelnuovo.

[31] When for nearly four years and more, all Italy had been shaken by various movements of war, and indeed nearly all Europe, Peace having been made, at last negotiations began to be conducted regarding ^a settlement among the Christian Princes; and not long afterward ^a common treaty of peace was entered into on equitable terms. It is not easy to believe with what great joy and delight this sudden news of ^a settlement among the highest Princes pervaded and filled all of Europe, and with what wondrous serenity it illuminated the miserable aspect of those times, darkened by prolonged grief. But among the Venetians especially all was most joyful, since that dire tempest, which shortly before seemed to have brought not merely terror but utter ruin and destruction to the entire Venetian Empire, had outcomes more fortunate than anyone had expected. For with the most opulent cities, previously lost, having been recovered and brought back under their power, the splendor and majesty of so great an Empire was once again established.

But generous rewards were decreed from the ancient munificence of the Senate for the generals and soldiers who had served the Republic most meritoriously: among whom, since Jerome stood preeminent, the most wise Senate desired this monument of its grateful spirit and benevolence toward him, and this singular testimony of his valor, to endure: the prefecture of Castelnuovo offered by the Republic that, with Castelnuovo recovered and assigned to the Emiliani family for thirty years, Jerome should again be placed in command with supreme authority; so that the very place which shortly before had been full of calamity and suffering might be most pleasant to him and his entire family in both dignity and advantage.

But Jerome, turning entirely other things over in his mind, would have most steadfastly refused all this show of splendor and dignity that was being conferred on his valor, had not family considerations persuaded otherwise. He accepts at the entreaty of friends: His friends and relatives urged that, by this great munificence of the Republic, honorable provision should be made not only for the dignity of his family, but also for its wealth, which he had nearly exhausted entirely on necessary war expenses. He perceived their minds so firmly set on this matter that in the present circumstances all effort at contradiction appeared vain. Therefore, as though rendering that supreme act of obedience to the Republic and his family, he did not so much accept as submit to the dignity offered, because he could not refuse without giving offense to the Senate and his relatives. It is well established, moreover, that Castelnuovo was subject to the Emiliani family for many years, afterward transferred to others by feudal right under the authority of the Republic.

[32] Setting out at ^a suitable time, therefore, he first journeyed to Treviso, visited his Patroness the blessed Virgin, He visits Our Lady of Treviso: and prayed to her most devoutly that -- since she, being fully aware of his will, knew that he had not sought the fasces of his own ambition, nor pursued the governorship -- she would obtain from her Son the strength equal to this burden, and would indicate what she wished to be his first step, and what the final outcome, of administering the province; so that, with vows now conceived for ^a new manner of life, it might be ^a help, not ^a hindrance.

As for the townspeople whom the fatal calamity of their homeland had left surviving, by the citizens of Castelnuovo and whom the fury of the raging army had not overwhelmed in its onslaught -- as soon as the report of Jerome's return reached them, burning most eagerly with the desire to see him, it filled them all with the greatest joy, and nothing that could be devised or provided by the inhabitants to celebrate his arrival was omitted; he was received with hearts as grateful as the desire with which he had been sought. he is received with great celebration: For as soon as it was announced that the Praetor was approaching, they did not wait for him to arrive at their homes, but with the multitude pouring forth for several miles beyond Castelnuovo, they received him as he drew near with favorable acclamations; and with festive shouts they escorted him, not without many tears pressed forth by joy, and in all there shone forth ^a zeal of benevolence and ^a mark of the highest good will. Their joy was increased day by day by ^a certain admirable mildness and clemency of Jerome toward the citizens, and his piety and ardor toward God, he devotes himself to virtue and piety: with which virtues he so discharged that administration that, while serving their interests most attentively, he was never held back from the duties of piety toward God. Therefore, inflamed with the pursuits of ^a holier life, gentle in conversation, generous to the needy, hostile to none, most zealous for the public welfare, adorned in short with every kind of virtue, he was suddenly both an object of admiration and an example to all.

CHAPTER XI

Upon the Death of His Brother, He Resigns His Office and Undertakes the Administration of Family Affairs.

[33] But while he administered all things with the highest praise for justice and piety, sad and unexpected news was brought from his homeland: that his dearest brother Luca had died. grieved by the death of his brother, This was most distressing to Jerome, and upon receiving this news, nearly

shattered, he readily showed how dearly he held and loved his living brother, whom now, deprived of sense and life, he mourned with such deep feeling. However, after indulging his tears as much as ^a prudent regard for humanity and the bond of blood seemed to require, at last attributing all things to divine goodness and giving thanks to the same, he consoled his grieving soul, and ordered the sacred and solemn expiatory rites to be performed according to custom for his brother's repose: he helps the soul with alms and prayers: so as to free him from the purifying fire, if he were detained therein; besides this, to distribute money to the poor, to solicit the saints frequently in prayer that they would support him by their favor before God, to ask all others to do the same, and finally to omit nothing that could bring any assistance to one suffering in the most bitter torments.

But since Luca, in dying, had charged Jerome above all others that nothing in his will should be altered or omitted, and had especially entrusted the guardianship of his children to him alone, Jerome was frequently summoned by letters from his relatives to properly settle the domestic affairs, to console the grieving widow, and to undertake the care and guardianship of his nephews. He, having long been weary of his provincial command, he relinquishes the prefecture of Castelnuovo: judged that at least this advantage should be gathered for himself from that grave misfortune of his family: that, seizing the opportunity afforded by the domestic affliction, he might lay down the fasces of public governance. Therefore, citing the demands of family affairs as an impediment, and having obtained an honorable discharge from the Senate, he resigned that office and command as soon as possible; and with ^a new Praetor from the same Emiliani family having been substituted, he hastened to Venice. As willingly and lovingly as he had been received by the townspeople at his first arrival, so reluctantly and sorrowfully was he released at his departure.

[34] As soon as he reached Venice, he did two things especially on behalf of his nephews: first, he arranged for the still tender minds of the boys to be formed in all piety, imbued with honorable morals, and educated in the study of letters. Second, since they had many and extensive business dealings and accounts contracted by their father with many parties in various places, he undertook the most careful management of these, and diligently applied himself to conducting their trade and increasing their property. he engages in trade for his nephews, Now, it should seem neither surprising nor novel to anyone that men of noble birth and conspicuous for the distinction of their honors should be involved in commerce, since not only in free cities -- with ancient custom approving -- it has come about that trade does nothing to harm nobility (which we observe among the Genoese, the Lucchese, the Ragusans, and other free peoples, by whose statutes and laws the occupation of handling merchandise causes no loss of nobility to any citizen), but much more so because, if we weigh the matter by its own merits, if we carefully examine the records of the ancients, held to be honorable among the ancients, and by the testimony of illustrious writers, the equal vote of reason, and the abundance of examples, we shall find that commerce does not at all disgrace ^a noble man -- always excepting the sordid and base kind, which Lycurgus had forbidden to his citizens and Aristotle had prohibited the nobler classes from practicing. Politics 7 For men of this kind are necessarily sordid and small-minded, who are exceedingly devoted to petty gain and give themselves entirely to profit; and accordingly they are accustomed to be kindled by no zeal for any honorable pursuit, and to be moved by the glory of no distinguished deed. Cicero expressed this brilliantly: "Commerce," he says, "if it is small, is to be considered sordid; if great and abundant, importing many things from everywhere and distributing to many without deceit, it is not to be greatly censured." De Officiis I.151

But to the sayings of the ancients are added the illustrious examples of the most distinguished men. Plutarch, in his Life Solon, who was both one of the seven wise men and the most prudent lawgiver by far, since his family property at home was very narrow -- because his father, being more inclined to generosity, had greatly diminished the patrimony -- betook himself to trade for the sake of increasing his estate. Aristotle is the authority that Thales also practiced trade. Plutarch teaches that the exportation of oil to Egypt furnished Plato with funds for his travels. Politics I; Life of Solon Concerning Zeno, moreover, the founder of the Stoic school, there are those who affirm the same from Laertius, by no slight conjecture; because he reports that Zeno traded in purple from Phoenicia -- for no other certain reason, as they conjecture, than to make some profit by reselling it. For Zeno was neither of such fortune nor of such luxury as to buy such ^a garment for himself. The credibility of his commerce is further increased by the fact that it was customary for him to seek gain from money, and his father Mnaseas was ^a merchant. From Laertius Moreover, Cato the Censor, the consummate model of probity among the ancients, was devoted to business and involved himself in commerce, as Plutarch attests. In his Life

[35] But let us proceed from the wise men to the most noble -- that is, to Kings and Emperors. and by Kings and Tarquinius Priscus, who attained the Roman kingship by his distinguished virtues, and who adorned the worship of the Gods with new priesthoods, increased the Senate in number, and made the Equestrian Order more populous, was himself ^a merchant born of ^a merchant father, and amassed great wealth through trade. Valerius Maximus, book 3, ch. 3 The Emperor Vespasian not only descended to the profits of trade before his reign, to sustain his dignity, but even after attaining it, openly conducted business, Emperors practiced it: buying many things cheaply so as to sell them at ^a higher price. Dionysius, book 3; from Suetonius Aelius Pertinax, having been proclaimed Emperor, continued to carry on trade through his agents no less than if he had been of private rank. Let this also be added in the last place. Dionysius, book 6 Mercury, King and Philosopher, was enrolled among the Gods by those ancients because he not only gave his attention to trade but was the very first to teach it to others: and therefore divine honors were decreed to him. You see, then, that royal and imperial dignity, and even divinity, were conferred upon merchants by the ancients; so that it is less surprising if the same man happens often to be both noble and ^a merchant. But to pursue these matters further is not the purpose of the present work; it is enough to have lightly touched upon them as the occasion presented itself. Nor indeed does Venetian nobility need anyone's defense, since it is universally acknowledged that the first place is due to it.

Let us return to Jerome, who, having undertaken the guardianship of his nephews, managed their property with complete fidelity, moved by no profit, no advantage of gain; He helps his nephews with Christian charity. for he did not measure his labors by such things, but, moved more by the ardor of Christian charity than by the fruit of advantage or the bond of blood to attend to these matters, he promised himself from God, for whose sake they had been undertaken, more abundant returns for his labors.

CHAPTER XII

A Signal Change of Morals in Jerome.

[36] Nor was Jerome's industry and diligence any less active in the cultivation of his own morals than in the administration of family affairs. For, released from the more serious cares of public governance, He devotes himself to spiritual things, he began more attentively to give himself to the study of spiritual and celestial matters; he resolved above all to cast off the servitude of all vices, and to transfer entirely the free possession of his soul from the wicked and unjust plunderers, to whom it had already been so addicted, to its true Lord. Nor was the present aid of the Deity lacking to one burning with zeal for divine things: which by ^a hidden power so began to turn Jerome's mind and spirit that an admirable correction of life and ^a signal amendment of morals followed in the shortest time. modesty in his morals: For, having cast off all things previously sought either for vanity or for luxury, everything -- both in the dress and adornment of his body, and in his words and deeds -- was composed to gravity and modesty. His luxuriant hair was cut short, in which youth especially delights, either curled with the curling-iron, or twisted into ringlets, or raised up in ^a point. The charm of his countenance was changed to ^a manly appearance; he was sparing of words and ^a prudent judge of them. In short,

plainly different from his former self and wholly changed into another man, he appeared such that in him the power and abundance of divine grace and kindness could easily be perceived.

[37] Moreover, since he had learned that ^a man's complete conversion consists of self-knowledge and detestation of his past sins, he -- unschooled and ignorant of these matters -- gave his most constant and attentive ears to the preachers of the divine word, he attends sermons devoutly, who on holy days discoursed to the people from the elevated place in the churches; so that his mind, formed by their salutary admonitions, might more easily arrive at the hidden and difficult knowledge of himself, and might conceive ^a salutary sorrow for his past sins. By this zeal of listening he repeatedly experienced in fact that truth attested by Saint Paul: "For the word of God is living and effectual, and more piercing than any two-edged sword." Hebrews 4 For while listening he would grow fervent and sorrowful, and, having condemned the vanity of fair-seeming things, would be kindled with love of poverty and penance, and would bitterly reproach himself moved to compunction for having cast down his soul into such base and shameful things, spurning the dignity of true virtue. And, most salutarily pierced through by that celestial sword, he indicated the sorrow of the salutary wound conceived in the depths of his heart -- now by abundant weeping from his eyes, now by frequent sobs and sighs bursting from his breast. When the sermon was dismissed, as he departed from the church, he departs from them: he did not indulge in certain popular and empty applause, but was ripening into the most abundant fruit of solid virtue -- not beguiled by some light tickling of the mind or sweetness of the ears, but pierced in heart, silent and meditative, pondering holier counsels of life, he went away.

[38] Thence, with the light of the divine Spirit illuminating Jerome's breast more clearly each day, he began with intent gaze of mind diligently to compare the magnitude and excellence of celestial goods with the ingratitude and impurity of his past life; he despises perishable things: by which single meditation he was sometimes so affected that, as though deprived of his senses, he not only drew no further consolation from the use and sight of earthly things, but also conceived ^a great hatred and disgust for them. Then, often driven by the sharper stings of conscience, he laments his past life: prostrate on the ground before the image of Christ hanging from the Cross, with tears flowing abundantly, and recalling in the bitterness of his soul the years of his former life, he would beat his breast, press kisses upon the earth, call himself repeatedly amid tears and sobs an ungrateful, impious, the most worthless and also the most wicked of all mortals, and then punish himself more harshly and nearly rage against himself. Thus clinging to the ground for ^a long time, he strove to wash away with ^a long shower of tears, to cleanse with the lye of penance, and to consume in the fire of celestial charity upon the altar of his heart whatever had previously been dissolute, unclean, and sordid in his soul; and, emulating the humility of the publican of the Gospel, he did not dare to raise his eyes to heaven.

[39] He also repeatedly practiced this: that, with the fervor of charity and the ardor of divine love overflowing, he would hasten to the most holy Crucifix, and, closely embracing its feet, would earnestly pray: he burns with love for Jesus crucified: that, since Christ had offered Himself to the eternal Father as ^a spotless victim on the altar of the Cross, with His blood shed for the salvation of the whole world, He would command that the sacrifice of so precious ^a blood be salvific also for him, ^a wretched sinner -- frequently repeating these very words: "Most sweet Jesus, be not to me ^a Judge, but ^a Savior." And this was his most familiar dart, which at nearly every moment, whatever else he was doing, he was accustomed to hurl into the divine ears. We read that this same formula of prayer, nearly identical, was most familiar to Saint Augustine, in these words: "Jesus, be to me ^a Jesus." This manner of praying amounts to precisely the same thing as Jerome's prayer. But he had not drawn this from the writings of Augustine, still unknown to him at that time, but assuredly from the same Master from whom Saint Augustine had learned, he emulates the better, he flees the wicked: who had instructed each of them with ^a similar formula of prayer, having poured out His spirit of prayers upon them in equal measure.

In addition to this, he made ^a prudent selection of certain persons with whom he would frequently associate and familiarly spend his time: not unaware how many aids for shaping men's morals in any direction are sought from private companionship; indeed, that men are far more easily drawn to impiety by the company of the wicked than formed in piety by the pursuits of the good -- so much more readily do blind mortals follow the impulses and examples of the wicked toward destruction than those of the good toward salvation. With the same diligence, therefore, with which he shunned the familiarity of the wicked, he sought out that of the good, whom he wonderfully loved and respected, having set before his eyes, not carelessly, the discipline and holiness of morals of fraternal virtue; so that, by zealous emulation, he might gather from every quarter the flowers of virtues into the beehive of his honey-sweet heart.

CHAPTER XIII

He Commits Himself Entirely to ^a Director of Spiritual Affairs.

[40] Since in other arts, for those about to undertake something great and arduous, ^a prudent and skilled guide must certainly be chosen, so much the more in the discipline of the spiritual life -- in which alone it is dangerous and too uncertain to engage without ^a director and teacher -- and this Jerome experienced daily, as much from the difficulty of virtue as from the trouble of his inner conscience. Therefore he judged that he should choose for himself some prudent, pious, and religious man, He chooses as his spiritual Father ^a Lateran Canon, by whose counsel he might be guided in the pursuit of piety, lest, wandering alone in the arena of Christian virtue and occupied with its shadows and images, he might lose the solid and clear method of virtue itself. From the sacred Order of the Lateran Canons, therefore, who have ^a most illustrious and ancient church at Venice called the Carita, ^a spiritual director and moderator of conscience was chosen -- ^a priest learned as well as pious. To this man, who heard his confessions for many years, Jerome gave his attention, earnestly requesting of him first that he direct all his pursuits, order his vows and wishes, and moderate all his words, deeds, and thoughts according to his own judgment and prudence; that he would be entirely in the power of one who commanded. That priest received Jerome lovingly and fulfilled the duties of his office admirably: for, instilling counsels of salvation, precepts of the virtues, and contempt for the world and for himself, he abundantly offered to his thirsting soul the draughts of eternal life; by which that soul, soberly intoxicated, blazed forth with even greater ardor than before toward the pursuits of the virtues and good works.

[41] First of all, he was persuaded to receive the mysteries of sacred Penance and the Eucharist very frequently at the same time: of which the latter, at his urging he more frequently confesses his sins and receives the Eucharist, cast down both by the sanctity of the mystery and by the weakness of his own conscience, although he most frequently desired it, he nevertheless partook of it less frequently -- from what at that time he thought ^a useful scruple and humility. For he did not abstain because his spirit was not ready for the sacred banquet; but just as the consciousness of his own lowliness and of his sins called Saint Peter back from the sight and fellowship of Christ, though he was otherwise most loving of Christ -- and therefore, while he most greatly desired to cling to Christ (for he said, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life" John 6:41), yet, when on the other hand he recognized himself as profane and unclean, he said: "Depart from me, Lord, for I am ^a sinful man" Luke 5:8.

However, when Jerome had learned from his spiritual Master that this was not very salutary for him, because in that celestial food is contained the sole consolation of our exile and the support of human weakness, by which pious souls, the more frequently they are refreshed, besides the supreme sweetness and extraordinary joy with which they are suffused, are also furnished with those bulwarks of the virtues that cannot easily be undermined and broken by the forces of the eternal enemy -- having become more cautious, he more frequently sat down at the sacred banquet, with great spiritual benefit indeed; at least every week: and from that time he made it his custom at the very least each week to free himself from the chains of his sins through the Sacrament of Penance,

and to receive Holy Communion. And certainly, by the testimony of Saint Augustine, we are not unaware that he who leads ^a life daily worthy of ^a Christian man is permitted to receive daily.

[42] Furthermore, by the counsel of the same Master, the greatest care was taken for the stings of ^a wavering conscience troubled by anxious disturbance. For those torturers of the entangled mind, he is agitated by scruples; which we call scruples, he experienced as so grave, to the harm and even the peril of the piety he had undertaken, that, agitated by them, he could not for long endure the daily and nightly wrestling of his conscience, nor devote himself more ardently to prayer or the contemplation of celestial things, nor, in the end, long maintain the course of ^a holier life he had entered upon -- unless, by the counsel and effort of ^a skilled instructor, that troublesome harassment of perturbations and prickings, which in the spiritual school is accustomed to beset the minds and spirits of beginners, were driven away.

For one not lightly tormented by the consciousness of his past sins, the consolations of words and counsels were at hand, to relieve the affliction of this malady and to raise up ^a spirit nearly cast down. For the pious priest, having begun to polish the man with the precepts of the spiritual life, after making ^a general Confession, and to remove the scruples and anxieties of soul by which he was being consumed day and night, first commands Jerome to confess his entire past, as far as memory can reach back through the longest span of time. The pious man performed what was commanded with incredible ardor and humility of soul, and with equal fruit and benefit: he reviewed his entire life in ^a most careful confession. Frequent groans, sighs, and tears, repeatedly interrupting the confession, he is freed: gave sufficiently clear signs of true penitence. Then, after the confession, he commands Jerome to cast aside all fear and anxiety of mind for the future; he hopes that, with God's favor, that most idle scab of an ulcerated mind has been healed by the Sacrament of Penance; if any trouble of this kind should occur, it would be the machinations of clamoring demons, which are repelled more by eluding them than by straining against them.

[43] The event confirmed the prediction: for security was restored to his mind and tranquility to his conscience; he experienced everything to be more peaceful thenceforth in prayer and the contemplation of heavenly things. Only this one thing not infrequently tormented the man miserably: [he desires to endure as much hardship for Christ as he had endured for the world.] that, when it recurred to his mind how many arduous things, harsh and difficult to endure, he had previously accomplished from zeal for military glory and the ardor of desires, now, having been enlisted under the standards and service of Christ, he seemed to himself to be so sluggish with idleness and inertia in the course of good works, and so stiff with cold, that he would not even deserve to be counted among the common soldiers. Therefore, more frequently stirred to battle by that word of Christ the Lord -- "He who wishes to come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me" -- resounding in the man's breast more terribly than ^a trumpet, having declared fierce war against all the pleasures by whose cruel domination he had previously been oppressed, he compensated for the vices of his earlier youth with great virtues afterward, by the help of celestial aid. Matthew 16:24

CHAPTER XIV

Various Exercises of the Virtues.

[44] He drew the beginnings of his spiritual warfare, and the sure first steps of self-denial and victory, from the contempt of glory and public offices. For, in order more easily to subject the appetite of reason -- greatly prone to the enticements of honors and the splendor of dignities -- to Christian humility and self-contempt, He closes off every path of ambition: having renounced the tumult of public affairs, having bade farewell to offices and dignities, having sent notice to the magistracies and public duties, he withdrew from it every bait of ambition and every harvest of vain glory. And so he no longer frequented the Senate, no longer visited the council-chamber, no longer attended public assemblies, no longer solicited anyone, and touched no administration of the Republic whatsoever: judging it ^a sufficiently difficult republic for himself to govern -- to watch over his own salvation and to moderate honorably and with piety the various movements of his senses. Therefore, with these public duties -- like fetters by which the courses of spirits roused to the highest virtue are most commonly retarded -- broken and cast aside, it is wonderful how rapidly he was carried toward the pursuits of ^a holier and more austere life, as never before.

[45] First of all, he set about tearing up pride and elation of spirit -- the incitement and origin of all evils -- by the roots from his soul, through frequent exercises of humility; he uproots pride by acts of humility; humble in dress, in conversation, and in company, he appeared everywhere. Nor did only outward humility, the undoubted indicator of the inward, shine forth in him; but much more the inward humility sparkled with certain signs of self-contempt and self-abasement. For he shunned and abhorred the proclamations of praise and the splendor of glory just as others shun dishonor and ignominy; about himself he spoke so humbly and abjectly, as though about the most despicable and most wicked of all mortals -- nor did he feel otherwise. But if there was something nobly done that he could not deny or conceal, he ingeniously attributed the whole of it to divine grace.

[46] Also, the cupidity of his former life was countered by ^a generosity lavish and worthy of ^a Christian man. he removes cupidity by generous alms, For whereas he had been most sparing of alms and most profuse in vain expenditures, he afterward put on so liberal and beneficent ^a nature toward the poor that no needy person would encounter him upon whom he would not kindly bestow ^a gift. His generosity was felt first and not least by maidens by providing for maidens to be preserved in virtue, whom poverty might impel to make ^a trade of their chastity. For, lest they be prostituted by any stain of shameful disgrace, he took care to have them enriched with ^a dowry, adorned with clothing, and honorably settled. To women and families and helping respectable families; who, reduced to poverty, were prevented by noble shame from begging alms, he himself secretly came to their aid with his own means; in short, he suffered no one, as far as he could, to depart from him empty and destitute.

[47] he overcomes envy But he also during this time applied ^a remedy to the envy of another's good fortune; so that he who previously, being immoderately self-loving, did not bear with equanimity the prosperous events of his neighbors, afterward, wishing well to others and doing them good; with charity growing fervent, it came about that all of Jerome's industry labored for the great advantages of others, and all his thoughts and efforts kept watch for the securing of another's welfare; receiving their prosperous successes with that serenity and cheerfulness of countenance which his soul perpetually enjoyed -- unless at times the recollection of his past sins, driving out joy, brought sorrow.

[48] But ^a fiercer and more difficult war against the unbridled assaults of desires and the fires of the flesh pressed upon him; he tames the appetite of the flesh and all the more dangerous and grave because, with the scars of his former wounds not yet healed, he experienced from time to time the most severe and gravest disadvantages and losses in the progress of virtue. by fasting. Wherefore, since he understood that there is ^a great safeguard in abstinence of food for weakening and breaking the insane lusts of the body, covered as though with this breastplate and shield, he resolved to set himself against the raging appetites of the senses. And so he began to afflict his delicate body with much fasting and continual abstinence, and amid the greatest abundance of all things to undergo most willingly the inconveniences of extreme want and meager fare, for the purpose of subduing bodily desires. He was most sparing of sleep, by keeping vigil, and necessity rather than inclination compelled the man to retire to bed. When he had sufficiently satisfied the natural need of the body within the limits of nature, by continual occupation, he would drive away sleep and keep vigil from deep in the night: after first offering prayer, he would give himself to the more humble domestic tasks. During the day, he frequently wore the thresholds of churches with the devout piety of his spirit. Visiting the sick, he refreshed them with his words and assistance, and was most helpful to both their bodies and their souls. by sacred reading, And when all other occupations were lacking, he was constantly engaged in ascetical works,

by the reading of which the slumbering fire of divine love was kindled more ardently. by prayer: The pursuit of prayer shone forth in him as singularly remarkable above all: for although he was not yet sufficiently polished and formed in the meditations on divine matters, he nevertheless devoted many hours to vocal prayer, gradually accommodating himself to mental prayer -- and this with such ardor of spirit that he could not hold back his tears or suppress his sighs. Greatly aided by this zeal for prayer, he shortly won the victory over his senses and his body after ^a difficult struggle, and brought home the trophies of spiritual combat.

CHAPTER XV

To What Degree of Perfection, and by What Method, He Shortly Arrived.

[49] From so great ^a sowing of good fruits divinely cast into Jerome's breast, he breaks his anger and cultivated by the labor of spiritual exercises and the discipline of the best and most diligent master, not only was ^a most abundant crop of virtues whitening toward the future harvest, but already fruits were being gathered not unworthy of universal admiration -- and especially of that virtue which, the rarer it is on earth, is considered the more excellent and held in the highest admiration; in Jerome, moreover, all the more admirable inasmuch as the long habit of ^a depraved way of life more vehemently opposed it. I speak of the moderation of anger. For Emiliani was by nature, as we said before, exceedingly prone to the agitations of the soul and the movements of anger, so that he would blaze with irascibility and vexation even over the most trivial causes, and when angered by considering that the Christian religion abhors enmities, he would not restrain his spirit or his words or his hands.

But when he had learned that nothing is more proper to ^a Christian man, or more worthy, than to live in the most perfect harmony with all, and to embrace all with ^a certain extraordinary love as though they were his neighbors; and that nothing is more alien and repugnant to the Christian religion than to exercise enmity with anyone, even enmities otherwise entirely just, whether tacit and hidden, or declared and open; and that this one thing Christ the Lord had done, and that Christ distinguishes the children of God by their love of enemies: this He had earnestly demanded of us: that we should not be at variance in purpose and will; having set forth this one mark of mutual benevolence and love of enemies for distinguishing the true children of God from the children of hell -- reflecting on these things, he resolved that the savage movements of anger must be suppressed and every fiber of hatreds and enmities must be torn out.

[50] And so, by ^a firm decree above all, he thoroughly resolved in his mind he pardons offenses, that whatever offenses, even the most grievous, he had received up to that day through the wickedness of men, he would most willingly lay aside and forgive for the love of Christ the Lord Crucified; then, if any injuries and insults should be inflicted in the future, he would avenge them with Christian nobility he repays injury with kindness, not only by pardoning but also by compensating with benefits. And shortly an extraordinary fruit of this salutary resolution appeared: for the zeal for tolerance and the exercise of patience was followed by so signal ^a moderation of that more excitable nature and ^a correction of the most turbulent propensity to take offense; that, in the very presence of those who had openly done him wrong, not only was he not more hotly inflamed by the most grievous insults, gentle in face and in words: but he showed himself so moderate, mild, and patient that he displayed no sadness in his countenance and no anger in his words. It will suffice, as though for ^a specimen of so great ^a virtue, to recount what happened to him in this regard that was worthy of admiration.

[51] In the Piazza of Saint Mark at Venice, while attending to the affairs of his nephews, Emiliani was disagreeing -- for whatever reason, as often happens -- with ^a certain shameless and obstinate man, and indeed with good right on his side. The other man strove against him with abuse and shouting, after various insults pressed more fiercely, and grew more insolently furious (for so the most distinguished Senator Giustiniani, who happened to be present, used to relate). Jerome tried to soothe the agitated man with gentle words and to invite him to moderation with Christian patience; but the man, raging and gnashing his teeth no less, hurled at him very many curses, and, loading him handsomely with abuse, finally threatened that he would pluck out his beard hair by hair.

Jerome, having received so great and signal an injury, although he was of an age which is usually more unbridled in retaliation and more bitter in revenge and more impatient of enduring, to one wanting to pull his beard, with ^a mild countenance and was moreover furnished with such resources of fortune and person that he could easily have done all these things -- nevertheless conducted himself so that no one at all seemed to observe him moved even slightly against the insulter, either in speech, or countenance, or spirit. he offers his chin, Nay, even (what would scarcely seem credible), to the man threatening to pull out his beard, with ^a serene and cheerful countenance, with his neck slightly bowed and his head extended, he presents his chin; then, looking at the man with ^a gentle eye, with ^a calm expression nearly composed to ^a smile, he says: "Behold, my beard: if it is so pleasing to God, do as you wish."

This example of so great moderation having struck him with shame; drove away the wicked man, if not corrected by repentance, at least confounded with shame, and filled the surrounding crowd with admiration. Those who had already known well Jerome's nature, headlong toward anger, openly declared that if anything of the sort had formerly happened to him, he would undoubtedly have torn the man apart with his teeth when other means of vengeance were lacking. But Christian submission and meekness of spirit had conquered the pride of nature; always using similar meekness: and self-contempt and self-abasement had suppressed the desire for vengeance; and the zeal for imitating Christ had cast aside the insane opinion of the crowd. And he most constantly maintained this afterward throughout his entire life: that, however grave the offense interposed, he would nevertheless use speech seasoned with singular sweetness of modesty and the most humane words -- so that in all his words and deeds there appeared that image of ^a preeminent soul, and as it were that interior quality, which, with its perturbations stilled, perpetually enjoyed the highest tranquility.

[52] But from where such great advances in Christian discipline arose, it will be neither unpleasant nor unprofitable for the Christian reader to learn. Having set about tearing up he attacks individual vices separately: the tares which the enemy had sown over his soul while he was held fast, lulled by the lethargy of his sins, he thought he should deal with his vices in this way: not to assault them all at once in ^a pitched battle, but, as though diminishing the strength of each by division, to wage war and contrive destruction upon them separately. And this attempt succeeded according to his intention; for, when he endeavored to shake some vice from among those to which he had long been greatly accustomed by the acts of the contrary virtue and to overthrow it by the engines of piety, after ^a siege that was not long he at last gained the victory; and with that one prostrated and utterly cast down, he would challenge another to the field; and again, having marshaled an assault with the exercises of the opposing virtue, he would not desist until, with the vice conquered, virtue reigned in his soul; then he would proceed to the rest with an equal course of battle and victory. And so, with divine aid bringing greater strength each day, and he routs them all in ^a short time: it was shortly brought about that by these minor engagements, as it were, he conquered and routed the entire army of vices, which it would have been difficult and dangerous to attack all at once. Thus, with the field of his heart purged of noxious seed, as it were, his mind was readier each day to receive the celestial sowings of divine grace, so that the seed once entrusted to it might return ^a hundredfold harvest to its cultivator.

[53] Nor did he instruct others by ^a different method. For when ^a certain nobleman, ^a very close friend of his, who, by Jerome's example and exhortation, had set about unburdening his conscience oppressed by sins -- he prescribes the same method for others, having vomited up by ^a careful and diligent confession the deadly poison of sins collected over many years -- diligently inquired by what steps he might henceforth enter upon ^a sure course of salvation and follow in his footsteps, Jerome urged upon him this one thing: "Friend, if, with the stain of your sins washed away, that purity of heart is what you desire, which may not unworthily receive Christ the Lord as its guest, then attack first some particular and singular vice; once that, in your own judgment, has been sufficiently corrected, proceed

separately to the rest, and you will shortly experience that your health has been restored." This counsel, so salutary for subduing vices, I would believe was drawn not so much from the principles of earthly warfare -- where victory is especially sought by dividing the enemy's forces -- as from the school of the Holy Spirit. For in the Conferences recorded by Cassian, Abbot Serapion formerly prescribed by Abbot Serapion, held that one should fight against the depravities of the soul and inclinations to vice in this way: that the contest should be entered not against all at once, but against them singly, and those that are most dangerous and chief; by which lighter engagements, as it were, all may more easily be driven from the soul. Conferences 5, ch. 14 For the enemy, weakened daily by minor battles, we shall soon find to be powerless even for the total sum of the whole war. This is ^a passage of Cassian's plainly worthy of being transcribed here in its entirety. And it reads thus:

[54] "Wherefore we must take up these battles in such ^a way here related from Cassian: that each one, examining which vice most assails him, should seize upon the principal contest against that one, fixing every care and solicitude of his mind upon its assault and observation: directing against it the daily weapons of fasting; hurling against it at every moment the sighs of his heart and the frequent missiles of groaning; devoting against it the labors of his vigils and the meditation of his heart; also pouring forth ceaseless streams of prayers and tears to God, and specially and continually beseeching Him for the extinction of his assault. For it is impossible for anyone to merit the triumph over any passion before he has understood that he cannot by his own industry or labor obtain the victory of the contest: although, in order that he may be cleansed, it is necessary that he remain day and night in all care and solicitude. And when he has perceived himself freed from that passion, let him again, with similar intent, search the recesses of his heart and select whichever among the rest he has observed to be the more stubborn, and against that let him direct all the spiritual weapons of the spirit; and so, always having overcome the stronger ones, he will have ^a swift and easy victory over those that remain; because his mind, made stronger by the progress of triumphs, and the combat with the weaker succeeding, will produce for him ^a readier result of battles -- as is customary with those who, in the sight of the Kings of this world, are accustomed to contend with all kinds of beasts for the sake of rewards, which kind of spectacle is commonly called ^a Pancarpium. These, I say, whatever beasts they perceive to be stronger in might or fiercer in the savagery of their wildness, they seize upon the contest of the first engagement against them; and once these are killed, they overthrow the rest, which are less terrible and less vehement, with an easier outcome.

Thus also, with the more robust vices always overcome and the weaker ones succeeding, ^a perfect victory will be prepared for us without any risk." formerly also taught by Saint Basil: But besides Cassian, it is fitting to cite also Saint Basil as an authority on this matter, whose words to Chilon the Monk are to the same effect: "For it is better to advance gradually and in ^a manner to ascend by degrees of exercise to higher things. Do not cut off all the pleasures of life at once, lest the change be suddenly from one extreme to another. Because, if you wish to drive away all allurements from yourself all at once in ^a heap, you will create for yourself ^a great storm of temptations. But if perchance you have begun to overcome one by force, already prepare yourself in ^a way to conquer another, so that thus you may afterward gradually extinguish them all." Moreover, these and other teachings of this kind must be attributed not to the writings of Cassian, or Basil, or anyone else, which he had not yet learned to handle, but to the instruction of the Holy Spirit.

[55] Moreover, in the custody of all the senses, especially of the tongue and eyes, the custody of the senses and outward modesty edifies others. and in the composure of his entire body and bearing, he was so exemplary and correct that by the very outward appearance of piety he held the mouths and eyes of all the citizens fixed upon himself alone -- so great ^a reformation of morals and correction of life being scarcely believed even by those who beheld it daily with their own eyes. Moreover, that Jerome's virtue was not counterfeit and adulterated, but true and solid, was proved as gold upon the touchstone by that extreme, universal, and most bitter calamity of the following year.

CHAPTER XVI

Many Forms of Assistance Bestowed on the Suffering in ^a Great Famine.

[56] The twenty-eighth year of that century was approaching, most prolific and memorable in calamities and human deaths, in ^a great famine. if any year ever was. This offered Jerome ^a sufficiently ample arena of charity and patience, ^a desired and abundant crop of sufferings, and ^a richer material than before for deserving well of mankind. For in that year nearly all of Cisalpine Gaul labored so gravely under ^a famine that no one could testify to having ever seen or heard of so great ^a scarcity of grain and other produce: which evil was so rapidly increased, partly by the barrenness of the soil, partly by the difficulty of wars, especially in the Milanese territory and in that chief city of the Insubrians itself, those pressed by hunger, that, with dire hunger overcoming the disgust and nausea of nature as it rejected foul and unaccustomed foods, when provisions were consumed, the people everywhere slaughtered beasts of burden, devoured cats, dogs, and mice, and considered many other things as the most delightful banquets which the human stomach is accustomed to abhor. From the most fertile territory of all Insubria, the conjecture concerning the rest is easy; so that it was not lightly doubted by many whether those cities, exhausted of citizens by famine, would be destroyed.

Things went much better for the Venetians, through the diligence of the officials in charge of the grain supply, Venice, the granary of produce, who, foreseeing the common want by certain signs, had taken care to have an enormous supply of grain and other produce transported in good time from everywhere by annual ships. But the fame of this abundance, spread through the Insubrian cities, in ^a short time attracted so great ^a multitude of every class from all directions that even there the price of grain began to rise day by day, and the city began to be pressed by severe famine, and not long after its face was changed, its appearance wretched, its aspect pitiful. For miserable flocks wandered before the eyes of all; seeking aid from everywhere, all the crossroads were widely beset, teeming with beggars and the sick -- with winter now advanced and want growing heavier day by day, and people perishing of cold and hunger: pale faces, bodies consumed as though by ^a dreadful wasting, color drained, strength broken -- too feeble even for crying out and wailing, much less for walking -- held the countenances and spirits of all good people fixed in sadness and grief; and the pressing expectation of the final fate of so many wretched people agitated everyone's minds.

[57] he helps: Jerome grieved above all at the bitterness of the dreadful calamity, and lamented with the deepest feeling of his soul the fatal misfortunes of the well-nigh innumerable destitute, and for some time remained deeply shattered by the most bitter sorrow. But shortly afterward, raised up by that magnanimous charity of his toward his neighbors, having embraced in spirit the destitution of all, with generous charity he determined to relieve them all, even if it were necessary to exhaust all his domestic resources for the purpose -- and he accomplished in fact what he had planned. For, having undertaken the care of all the afflicted with great ardor of spirit, he would bring them to his house, refresh them with every office of charity, augment them with alms, and even, if need be, furnish them with clothing before sending them away. To those lying in the streets and roadways he generously and abundantly brought aid with his own money. Wherever he went, no needy person encountered him upon whom he did not lavishly pour forth from his mercy. Families whose poverty was aggravated by noble shame, he secretly took upon himself to feed. And when very frequent and favorable reports of his great generosity toward the poor spread throughout the entire city, ^a throng of the destitute would flock from every direction to Jerome's dwelling to seek food, like ^a swarm of bees; and he, receiving them with his nature so lavish and beneficent toward the poor, would restore them with food,

cover them with clothing, and even furnish them with money. These offices of untiring piety, he distributes all his money, by daily and uninterrupted generosity, shortly proceeded to the point where, with his fortune exhausted and his purse shaken empty for the poor, not ^a single coin remained for him either to feed himself, let alone to relieve the needy.

[58] But then especially, when nothing was left for his piety to give, it became clear with what ardor of piety he burned, and with what zeal of charity he was on fire for relieving the poverty of the poor. For, turning many things over in his mind, having sold his furniture. he at last adopted this plan: to sell off the furnishings of his house and the costly household goods, and what had formerly served to adorn the walls and the house, he now by ^a happier design transferred to the adornment of his soul and the relief of the poor; so that the fountain of Christian piety might flow most generously for ^a longer time. And so, ^a great sale of goods having been made -- and not only of lesser property, but also of garments and clothing, and of the more valuable household possessions -- and ^a vast sum of money having been collected, he helps the needy, more generous provision was made for the necessities of many. And from that time it became his settled practice to possess nothing at home as his own, however excellent or necessary, but to hold all things for the poor; and to distribute them indiscriminately, with regard only to fraternal need. And so in ^a short time he turned his house, previously gleaming with noble tapestries and fine furnishings, stripped of its entire array of ornaments and left empty, into something very nearly ^a hospice for strangers. For miserable people without distinction commonly frequented his halls, porticoes, and the interior of his house; and if any also lacked ^a roof, they were received as guests. So that it seems to me no less applicable to Jerome than what holy Job affirmed of himself: "If I denied what the poor wished, and made the eyes of the widow wait. Job 31 compared to Job: If I ate my morsel alone, and the orphan did not eat of it. Because from my infancy compassion grew up with me, and from my mother's womb it came forth with me. If I despised one passing by because he had no garment, and the poor man without covering. If his sides did not bless me, and he was warmed with the fleece of my sheep."

These things, I say, he could adopt as his own and boast that he had been nourished on the milk of mercy -- one who carried within him ^a heart so full of piety that he left nothing for himself, pouring out every human resource upon the destitute; and when money or food were not at hand, he would sell his household property he moves the citizens to the same by his example: to relieve their poverty. With this great charity of Jerome shining throughout the entire city, the mercy of many toward the poor was aroused, and in very many an ardor for helping was kindled; and in fact the charity of the citizens toward the wretched was greater from then on, and the generosity poured out upon the needy was more abundant -- stirred without doubt by Jerome's illustrious example.

[59] But Jerome's care, not content within these limits, extended also to those who were lying ill and dying. For he strove to sit beside them frequently, to minister to them assiduously, and to be both ^a consolation and an aid; he succors the sick those whom the force of disease was extinguishing in their beds, as they were completing that final chapter of their supreme concern, he assisted with salutary exhortations and admonitions, confirmed with the most ardent words, and omitted nothing that might serve as ^a support in that final struggle. and the dying; But not even with the final close of ^a dying person's life was the period of so illustrious ^a piety ended: it embraced also the bodies of the dead, devoid of all life and sensation. For when matters had come to such ^a point that everywhere the poor, lying in the streets, were expiring in ^a pitiable manner, and not infrequently throughout the streets and marketplaces -- ^a sad and mournful spectacle indeed -- the prostrate bodies of those whom either dire hunger had killed, or the cruel winter had slain with cold and frost, he buries the dead by night, lay deprived of the benefit of burial, Jerome judged that this too pertained to his charity. The days being spent in ministry to the living, he toiled through the nights in burying the bodies of the dead. For it was his most frequent practice during the deep silence of midnight to traverse the streets of the city, he carries corpses on his shoulders to the cemeteries. so that, if he found anyone overwhelmed by final languor and already bereft of life, he might by his accustomed office of charity either arrange ^a funeral for them, or -- as he very frequently did -- carry them on his shoulders to the sacred cemeteries himself. And although he wished this signal office of piety to be kept secret, it could not, however, be concealed for long, and this outstanding deed was celebrated even by the orators of that age -- of which we shall speak in its proper place.

In these works of mercy he spent nearly the entire year, and fed ^a great throng of the poor, until ^a year richer in new crops began to furnish ^a more abundant supply of grain; so that by so generous and lavish ^a nature toward the poor, he plainly seemed to have opened for himself the fountains of divine mercy and to have secured ^a safe path to salvation.

CHAPTER XVII

He Enjoys ^a Close Friendship with Giovanni Pietro Carafa.

[60] Jerome was at that time strengthened by another, not ignoble, master of the spiritual life: this was Giovanni Pietro Carafa, Giovanni Pietro Carafa, ^a man flourishing with the signal praise of all learning and illustrious for his great reputation for integrity and piety, who was afterward admitted to the College of Cardinals by Paul the Third, and, as the first of that order, succeeding to the pontificate of Marcellus the Second, wished to be called Paul IV, afterward Cardinal, having changed his name as was the custom. Jerome constantly availed himself of his work and counsel, and deferred so much to him that he undertook nothing without consulting him; and Pope Paul IV, so that many things afterward done by Jerome on his own initiative were ascribed to Carafa's counsels -- of which more will be said in its proper place.

Meanwhile, who Carafa was at that time, and what was his occasion for residing at Venice and for his association with Jerome (the narrative traced somewhat further back, but without tedium or annoyance), must be explained. Giovanni Pietro had been appointed by Julius the Second, at the beginning of his pontificate, as Bishop of the Church of Chieti among the Marsi; having resigned the Bishopric of Chieti, and he was being solicited from Clement the Seventh by the Emperor Charles for the Archbishopric of Brindisi, far more opulent than that of Chieti. But Carafa, meditating far greater things for the glory of God and the profit of souls, voluntarily divested himself even of the Bishopric of Chieti and freely permitted it to be conferred at the discretion of the Supreme Pontiff. Then, having chosen several companions of known probity and nobility, with Clement himself approving, in the first year of his pontificate, he founds the Order of Clerks Regular in 1524: and in the twenty-fourth year of that century, having pronounced the more solemn vows of Religion at Rome, he became the first founder of the Clerks Regular; with whom, having rented ^a small house on the Pincian Hill, he led ^a religious life.

[61] But soon the year 1527, most turbulent on account of ^a foreign invasion, followed: when the arms of the Constable of Bourbon, Rome captured by Bourbon in 1527 and shamefully despoiled, poured out upon the city of Rome, brought devastation by foul pillaging and plundering at once to the City and to Religion, so that among the calamities of the city of Rome and of sacred things, none perhaps is counted greater or more disgraceful. The army was almost entirely composed of deserters from the Catholic faith and the most hostile enemies of the Pontifical See, for whom the pleasure was to rage through wantonness against sacred things and to draw delight from the injuries and degradations of the clergy. Whence sacred persons immediately became ^a mockery to the savage victor and the chief material for the most hostile cruelty; Rome especially lamenting with tears that the Pontiff of the Catholic Church had been cast out and that vicarious majesty of the true Deity driven from its See. The sacred buildings and the monasteries of religious were converted into military quarters in ^a foul spectacle: there the common soldiers, with no reverence for sacred ground, as though in ^a tavern and ^a brothel, gambled, feasted, and indulged in every remaining foulness; and indeed all things, having lost their goods, with the bloody and most rapacious soldiery raging with the utmost injury to sacred things and most ruinously pillaging, were defiled and plundered.

But not even within their lowly and small dwellings were the poor new religious of whom we speak safe; for they were compelled by the plundering soldiers to pay out money; and, with their domestic poverty preventing this, they were badly abused with undeserved insults and blows, and stripped of their slender and cheap furnishings. Therefore, in so wretched and extreme ^a calamity of the City, and the plundering of all things, they judged that they should not remain in Rome any longer. And so, having availed themselves of the kindness of the Venetian Ambassador departing from the City, forced to depart, he migrates to Venice: they migrated with him to Venice near the end of the year, and, having rented ^a house at San Nicolo da Tolentino, at the beginning of the year 1528, they established their residence; where Carafa remained until approximately the year 1536, when he was inaugurated with the honor of Cardinal by Paul the Third, in the third year of his own pontificate.

[62] As soon as the fame of the learning and piety of the new Religious began to spread more widely through the city, there was ^a great concourse of people to them; the discipline of the religious institute was approved by many, Jerome approaches him, and ardently sought and embraced; the extravagance of life and license of morals of very many citizens was corrected through the efforts and zeal of the Fathers. Nor did these tidings come late to the ears of Jerome, who, being most zealous for men of probity, readily betook himself to them, and, being greatly delighted by Carafa's company, began to frequent the religious house. Nor was Jerome's frequent approach unwelcome to Giovanni Pietro, nor was it useless to Jerome; for the former admired and looked up to the man's nobility joined with so great an ardor of piety, he listens with profit, while Jerome, in return, everywhere commended and proclaimed in Carafa all the ornaments of human and divine wisdom combined with the highest integrity of life, not without admiration; and always drew many things beneficial to his soul and salvation and richer fruit of spiritual advancement from his association with this most excellent man.

And so the thought came to him to commit himself to Giovanni Pietro to be instructed in the holier and greater pursuits of piety: he chooses him as spiritual Father: for in the progress of the spiritual life he held nothing more important than ^a most skilled director of souls; and such Carafa appeared to him -- one upon whose every sign, as upon ^a sure interpreter of the divine will, he would wholly depend, and by whom he would order himself and all his affairs. For he had long since imposed upon himself this fixed rule: that he would determine nothing by his own judgment, nor in the practice of spiritual matters employ as ^a guide his own deceptive and inexperienced sense, lest by this single path easy access should be afforded to the hidden deceits of demons. This pious and prudent decree of his soul he observed so religiously throughout his entire life that he would not even undertake works of piety without the knowledge and counsel of his moderator of conscience -- either because the liberty of his own judgment was so suspect to him in all things, or because he knew that the less ^a task owes to our own initiative, the more abundantly the merit of obedience is compensated with ^a richer reward. Therefore, whether having lost his former director, or because he judged the assistance of both to be most useful to himself, he asked of Carafa that he undertake to instruct him in the doctrine of spiritual things, and would freely decide concerning him and his affairs, according to the glory of God and the salvation of his soul -- this would be most pleasing to him.

[63] Carafa undertook the charge without reluctance, conjecturing (as the subsequent outcome confirmed) that from so fertile ^a soil he would shortly gather an abundant yield of fruits; and from conversation with him he advances in virtue, what he had generously promised, he afterward discharged with equal faithfulness and devotion. There were frequent discussions between them concerning divine things, concerning the procuring of the salvation of their neighbors, concerning the healing of the corrupt morals of that age, and concerning the choosing of ^a new and definite manner of life; by which most frequent conversations Jerome was daily more and more inflamed to labor strenuously in the vineyard of the Lord. Nor did he show inconsiderable progress in the exercise of spiritual matters, by which his spirit and piety were daily more and more approved by Carafa. Yet Carafa never sought to attach him to his own new Order -- perhaps because, he was never solicited to enter his religious order; having shared with him the plan of his mind, he understood that the man was being called by God to altogether other things, but things nevertheless most useful to the Christian commonwealth and the salvation of his neighbors; and accordingly, although he esteemed him most highly and daily urged him to progress in piety, he was yet restrained by an interior scruple from soliciting him to enter the recently founded Order.

Indeed, the opinion was so certain and constant among those who had been chosen by Jerome himself as companions to share in the work that, by the auspices and counsels of Carafa, Jerome had turned his mind to the care of abandoned poor, was he assisted in his own foundation? that, in the tenth year after Jerome's death, they petitioned Giovanni Pietro Carafa, then ^a Cardinal, for union of their Congregation with his Order, on this principal ground: that by his auspices the foundations of those works had been laid, and that he himself had destined Jerome for them. But that the matter was actually otherwise, Carafa himself affirms in ^a letter written to Gaetano Thiene, in which he freely attributes the whole of this to Jerome's own purpose and charity. Book 3, ch. 6

[64] Wonderfully, moreover, with the progress of time, that great harmony of minds and conspiracy of wills between Giovanni Pietro from this union arose mutual charity between both Orders, and Jerome advanced among the members of both Orders, as though vigor had been transmitted from the root of mutual charity to the branches: so that these two families are now bound by no lesser bonds of benevolence than the very founders of both Religious Orders were united by the bond of love and charity. The dwelling of the Theatine Fathers which was first frequented by Jerome at Venice later proved of the greatest use and advantage to our own members. For, when the administration of that seminary which the Patriarch Giovanni Trevisan -- to the great adornment and indeed profit of the Venetian Church -- had founded was entrusted to our Fathers, who were summoned by the same Venetian Patriarch, and when most ample premises were rented near San Geremia where the Seminary remained for nearly twenty years and more, our members in the meantime had no right to ^a public church, no right to religious burial, but used ^a domestic chapel for daily and private services.

And so, of the Fathers who had died during that time, they were carried with ^a religious funeral to San Nicolo of the Theatine Fathers; where, met by ^a long procession of the white-robed Fathers with chanting and torches, they were received most honorably, and shared burial among the Theatines. and, having been purified with the sacred prayers and ceremonies of the Church, they were interred within the domestic cemetery with the same sacred equipment of vestments, lights, and chanting accompanying them. So that it might seem as if Jerome were even then indicating to his sons, who were subsequently to be brought forth in this society, the most suitable place of burial and opening the way -- so that the same persons, once departed from life, might rest among those with whom they had lived in the closest harmony and union of souls. But mention of Carafa will recur more than once.

CHAPTER XVIII

He Recovers from ^a Grave Illness When His Life Was Despaired Of.

[65] Not only by the lavish distribution of his goods, but also by the afflictions of ^a most grave illness and the supreme crisis of his life was Jerome's virtue and constancy put to the test; Jerome is seized by ^a dangerous illness, for the dreadful calamity of famine was followed by ^a certain epidemic. The nature of the disease was such that, with ^a continuous fever growing worse at intervals through its paroxysms, after the body of the sick person had been affected for several days, it soon bespattered it with various spots of purple, red, and mouse-brown color -- an undoubted sign of approaching death (such spots are called by the older physicians papulae, or measles). When the contagion of the evil was spreading more widely, and Jerome was pursuing his works of piety no less vigorously, he was seized by the same illness and forced to take to his bed.

As soon as he felt the force of the disease, he first turned to the care of his soul, having confessed his sins, he is fortified with sacred viaticum: and, having expiated the stains of his sins, he wished to be refreshed with the sacred bread; then, having duly composed himself before God and earnestly commending himself to Him, he was as concerned about the infirmity of his body as if it in no way pertained to him -- so much did one who clung to God desire celestial things above earthly. The disease held him for several days, and as the fever continually intensified, it prevailed to the point that those spots, the signs of the supreme crisis, were visible over his entire body -- all the more deadly as they were marked by ^a deeper blackness -- so that the physicians plainly despaired of his recovery and cure.

[66] Yet ^a certain trouble of mind, heavier than that of the body, tormented Jerome, as hope on one side and fear on the other drew his languishing spirit in two directions with anxious care; he was seen now more cheerful, now sad and sorrowful. For when the hope of celestial goods at times poured itself more generously into the man's soul, now he is raised by hope of eternal life, he reflected within himself with great delight whether perhaps God wished by this shortcut to call him, released from these bonds, to the pleasant realms of Paradise; and in that expectation of eternal blessedness he was suffused with such great delight that from his very countenance, though wasted by the approach of death and the ravages of the disease, there nevertheless shone forth manifest signs of intimate joy and gladness.

But soon that sounder reflection, full of fear, corrected and entirely suppressed the empty feeling of ^a soul that was exulting and rejoicing -- ^a reflection that admonished the man as not yet ripe for heaven: now he is terrified by the recollection of past sins: one who, having been defiled by sins for so long ^a time and having so often merited the fires of hell, had not yet, by any long and more severe exercise of penance and offices of charity, redeemed his former crimes. That this was abhorrent to divine law, and far alien from his own faults. And so, with such cares pulling in opposite directions, his spirit wavered, uncertain and doubtful, and, struggling with extreme bodily weakness, was tormented even more bitterly by the fear of eternal salvation -- fearing lest, with the space for penance cut short by an untimely death, he might either be imperiled as to the supreme issue, or certainly have to endure far more prolonged and bitter punishments after death.

[67] anointed Amid these things he purifies his conscience by the use of the Sacraments, prepares his spirit, and, having been duly anointed for that final combat, now awaits the supreme hour. When at length, having bidden joy and fear to depart ^a little, he commits himself wholly to the divine will, and, he offers himself to the will of God: pouring himself out in prayers, earnestly begs God that -- if it be for his salvation and the honor of the divine majesty -- whether the present destruction of his life be for the punishment of his sins, or ^a longer enjoyment of light be granted for sterner pursuits of penance and for executing those plans which for so long, not without His prompting, he had been pondering in his mind for the salvation of his neighbors -- He, the supreme and most equitable arbiter of life, would in His clemency moderate the uncertain outcome of the impending event. He would most willingly yield to the divine will in all things and follow wherever it might call.

The prayers were most pleasing to God, both by the ardor of penance and by the zeal of submitting to the divine will. For from that point the sick man began to improve, so that, relieved of the disease, he could both rise from his bed and stand on his own feet; and he emerged from that illness with the utmost swiftness, to the amazement of the physicians, and, his strength sufficiently restored, was fully returned to his own people -- so that it seemed equal to ^a miracle that ^a man given up by the judgment of the physicians should have recovered so quickly. he recovers suddenly. But although he most ardently desired the joys of eternal rest, he nevertheless bore that delay not unwillingly, and counted it as ^a very great gain that, as he said, the sacrifice of his life was still to be purified by the tears of penance and the hardships of austerities for several more years, and that counsel must be taken for the salvation of his neighbors. For he plainly understood that by so signal ^a benefit of his life divinely prolonged, these duties were being imposed upon him by divine decree. Wherefore he firmly and certainly resolved to consecrate that entire life, which he owed solely to the present help and miracle of God, to the divine glory, to the pursuits of penance, and to the salvation of his neighbors -- and he accomplished this far more abundantly than he had promised.

BOOK TWO

CHAPTER I

Jerome's Deliberation Concerning ^a New Plan of Life to Be Undertaken.

[1] With his health now restored, he betakes himself to his former offices of piety and the labors of penance, and devotes himself to such cares all the more ardently inasmuch as by recent and personal experience he had learned the extreme destitution of the sick, and had experienced the divine mercy and goodness toward himself. But, many days having been spent in these duties, he -- an emulator of the better gifts -- was not satisfied with himself. For, as the day advanced, he felt himself always roused by ^a new zeal of piety, kindled by ^a more ardent love toward God and his neighbors, and carried toward greater things; because the flame of his lofty spirit, kindled by celestial fire, Jerome deliberates on ^a new plan of life, could not remain in ^a lowly place.

And so he conceived ^a plan -- lofty indeed and worthy of ^a man who had risen above earthly things, born of the desire for immortal and eternal glory -- that, having renounced all wealth, having cast aside his Senatorial toga, the insignia of his nobility, and having utterly despised the dignities of the Republic, he might at last with ^a freer voice profess that lowly and humble manner of life which he had conceived in his mind, and publicly devote his entire life to the perpetual ministry of works of charity.

However, having seriously entered upon this deliberation concerning ^a private and most abject plan of life, with the spirit struggling against the flesh, he experienced ^a sufficiently arduous battle of the resisting senses and reluctant nature. The things that seemed to militate most against it were: the care of his nephews, the splendor of his family, and his duty to the Republic. To neglect the affairs of his nephews and the honor of his family seemed inhumane; to desert the Republic seemed impious. he easily sets aside the cares of his nephews: But the affairs of his nephews detained Jerome less, since their eldest now seemed able, by reason of age, to manage the family property safely and to preside over their affairs on his own.

[2] But, having navigated past that rock, he found ^a far more difficult exit from the honors of the world and of the Republic, with love of country wonderfully tormenting the man's soul. For it is peculiar to the Venetians, implanted by nature, to love the commonwealth with spirits so devoted and unanimous that they are thought to surpass all other nations by far in love and devotion to their country. Jerome loved it, moreover, far more intensely, long detained by love of the Republic and his own dignity, because, since he had faced extreme dangers for her sake, the Republic would not allow the mutual expression of gratitude to be considered lacking on his part -- in which he was regarded as an outstanding and noble Senator, was very popular throughout the entire citizenry, and in which at last his consummate prudence, manifold experience of affairs, the gravity of his life, and the probity of his morals had opened ^a clear path to the highest honors, had it not been his own choice to refuse them.

Wherefore, on both sides, so many and such weighty considerations presented themselves, some urging the new manner of life, others dissuading it, that the deliberation of so great ^a matter was exceedingly difficult and quite obscure. And since human feeling and divine piety were contending almost equally in his breast, without taking food, without granting rest to his eyes, for several days he was tossed about with great perturbation in that storm of cares and, as it were, that conflict and alternation of thoughts, amid the wavering propensities of ^a doubtful and uncertain mind fluctuating this way and that. And he learned by experience how difficult and laborious is the outstanding contempt of human affairs, and how painfully the senses are torn away from those things they have once ardently loved.

[3] Amid these things he often burned in spirit, now grew cold; now, kindled by divine love, he aspired to the camp of spiritual warfare; now he was recalled and deterred from that purpose by the splendor of honors and ^a more noble life, and by other blandishments of the senses -- until, having long struggled with himself amid these thoughts,

he drew in ^a purer ray of divine light and perceived himself borne toward holier counsels and perpetual offices of piety with ^a more vigorous impulse than before. And now, despising all perishable things and impatient of every delay, he grew indignant with himself, and with words more or less like these, not without tears, began to press and severely rebuke himself: "What are we doing, my soul? What are we waiting for? Why do we not return to the Lord the life received from Him? Why do we not fulfill our promises? Why do we pursue vanity with such great love? What, in the end, is so noble or sublime in these things he wrestles with himself: that it could draw us from the love of celestial things? Is it the splendor and dignity of glory? What kind of glory is this, for whose sake one must daily and diligently solicit and supplicate everyone, take on the enmities of many, and depend upon the fluctuating and uncertain judgment of the crowd? How much better, indeed, to solicit the divine mercy by the constant entreaties of prayer, to seek the eternal honor of blessedness, to pursue God's glory rather than one's own! But does duty to the Republic press? Enough service has been rendered to it, enough by labors and dangers done for this mortal homeland; why should we not now labor for the eternal? Shall the homeland that bore me as ^a mortal hold the highest claim upon me, while the one that awaits me as an immortal holds none? Does it please me to pursue great honors in the Republic in order to illustrate the family name? But we see the memory of our lineage sufficiently ennobled by the worthy deeds of our ancestors, and posterity will bring more illustrious ones when God wills. Why do we not seek that Evangelical nobility, truly worthy of heaven, uniquely dear and beloved to God? Why do we not pursue the immortal fame of our name before God? Shall these false and fleeting goods have the greatest weight with me, and those eternal and true ones the least? Shall I despise celestial things for earthly, divine for human? What school, what religion has taught us to prefer dust to heaven, men to God? Or shall I, when I have spent the prime and vigorous part of my life on the Republic, when I have increased the family property, when I have rented out estates, when I have managed all human affairs -- then, weary of the occupation of ambition, if any leisure remains, shall I turn myself to the worship of God and the care of my soul? These are the ways of men serving not God but themselves. Let all this love perish, that the celestial may live. For what can be done more salutarily, what more prudently, than, having spurned things transient and perishable, to pursue the celestial and eternal? Take courage, Jerome; follow God who calls."

[4] While he spoke to himself these and many similar things with intense straining of mind and conflict of thoughts, he experienced the present and manifest power of the divine Majesty. For most ardently the man's breast began to be scorched by the fervor of divine love, so that it seemed to boil and melt, and to be unable to bear the flame of its ardor any longer; illuminated by God, and, at the new light from heaven, he felt himself so wholly changed by divine power, gradually, into another man, that he plainly denied he was the same person. Wherefore, with the affections for human things driven from his soul, and the foul darkness of the senses and of his blind mind dispersed, he could no longer resist the goads of divine grace, but was compelled to surrender to the God who was rousing and pressing him.

Therefore, prostrate as ^a suppliant before the image of Christ on the Cross, with the ground moistened by ^a warm shower of tears, and with frequent groans and sighs drawn from the depths of his breast, and with the heavenly powers ardently invoked to his aid, he chooses the ministry to the poor: he most ardently consecrates himself and all that is his to God, with his whole soul, his whole heart and will. Having renounced his wealth and honors, he devotes himself to the perpetual service of the poor in ^a lowly and abject garb; he gives thanks from the depths of his heart, as is fitting, for so signal ^a benefit of the vocation divinely sent upon him, and earnestly prays that God would supply strength equal to his vows and would deign to protect him perpetually by the help of His grace in so holy and firm ^a resolve.

[5] Having risen from prayer, he summons his eldest nephew, inflames him with ardent exhortation to those things that befit ^a Christian man and ^a most upright Senator; he admonishes him at last to undertake the management of his own affairs; he renders ^a most diligent account of what was given and received and of his past administration: he transfers the care of his brother's family to his nephew: he shows with what fidelity he managed his affairs, with what care he increased them, with no profit diverted to himself. He exhorts him to continue managing them with the same integrity, as ^a faithful steward and administrator appointed by the Lord. As for himself, called by the Lord to greater things, he can no longer be detained by the occupations of such affairs. The nephew had not yet understood what purpose lay behind all this; nevertheless, with tears starting forth, he earnestly begs Jerome to continue in the management of his affairs and the administration of the family property, and not to cast away the most ample honors of the Republic to the great detriment of the family. Meanwhile the nephew observes the man plainly explaining by his deeds what he had obscurely indicated by words, and displaying by ^a new and unfamiliar kind of clothing what the inward disposition of his spirit was.

[6] The Venetian nobility uses ^a long garment, with sleeves very loose below the elbow and tighter at the hands, commonly of black color by general usage -- unless the higher dignities of the Republic having laid aside his Senatorial robes, or more solemn gatherings of Senators demand the purple, with ^a stole of the same color thrown back over the left shoulder. These insignia of his nobility Jerome at last cast off and permanently banished from himself; he also stripped from himself whatever more noble inner garments down to the very innermost tunic, and, as things hitherto lent to him by the Lord, most willingly returned them to the same. In their place he put on ^a cheap and ragged garb he puts on ^a humble garment: that happened to be found at home, previously obtained for the use of some poor man; he adopted the coarser shoes that peasants wear (called perones), nor did he cover his shoulders with ^a more noble cloak. The nephew gazed at these things, transfixed with sorrow and admiration; the household servants gazed, suspended in mind and thought, while tears flowed abundantly from the eyes of all. But the new soldier of Christ paid no regard to flesh or blood.

[7] But, armed with the nobler and hitherto unfamiliar weapons of spiritual warfare, he who had already subdued his own judgment resolved to engage with the world itself as soon as possible. Wherefore, either to declare how firmly and from the heart he had deserted to Christ and declared war upon the world, or to profess publicly the poverty and contempt for human things that he had long maintained in his soul, without even bidding farewell to his household, he immediately goes forth from his house in his rags and peasant shoes, visits the nobler churches of the city, he visits the churches of the city, and presents himself to be seen, adorned with the new insignia of Evangelical poverty. It was ^a spectacle no less pleasing to God and the Angels than it was astonishing to men. It is wonderful how vehemently the unusual manner and new condition of life moved the entire city; many, as usually happens, receiving the man with laughter and jests; others, to whom Jerome's piety had long been known, with various reactions from the onlookers. admiring his devotion and humility of spirit; very many, astonished at the novelty of the remarkable event, awaiting from the very outcome of the deed the judgment of so unusual ^a change. But he, in no way fearing the rumors and suspicions of men, resolved that the divine voice alone, speaking to his heart, must be obeyed in all things, and that wherever it called, he must follow perpetually.

CHAPTER II

His Calling to the Care of Abandoned Poor.

[8] But with this plan now adopted, and the foundation of his entire subsequent life, as it were, now laid -- that from that noble and illustrious summit of human affairs he might descend not merely to ^a condition of life equal with the rest, but even to the lowest, and to the coveted embraces of Evangelical poverty -- this one thing remained: that he who had devoted himself to the lowliest services of the poor and to their salvation should determine, from among so many offices of charity and various kinds of exercises, which he should principally embrace. He undertakes further deliberation, In this deliberation he hesitated for some time, because he saw himself equally ready and disposed for all the duties of charity. He lacked neither courage to undergo dangers nor strength to endure labors; but what would most promote the glory of God and the salvation of his neighbors, he did not know. Wherefore, most ardently desiring to prove himself acceptable to God in every way, and to direct the entire course of his life according to His will alone -- the most perfect rule of good deeds -- he entreated Him suppliantly day and night, that He would shed light upon him and, from among so many paths to salvation, would point out which one He especially wished him to follow. And not long afterward, an easy means of discerning the divine will in this matter was not lacking to the man.

[9] From the recent famine and scarcity of food, ^a foul and grave pestilence had arisen and, wandering through the citizenry, had so disfigured the entire city in ^a hideous manner with ^a vast slaughter of deaths that throngs of children most abundantly filled the streets, having considered the multitude of orphaned children, bereft of parents, destitute of all internal and external upbringing, exposed to the utmost destitution and the foulness of every vice -- everywhere to be met with, ^a bitter and pitiable spectacle indeed. The plight of the wretched pierced the man's heart vehemently, and the frequently observed loneliness and want of the orphans drew him to the thought of ^a remedy; and, as he daily explored the decree of the divine will by prayers, he felt plainly and more ardently that this purpose was being given to him in prayer: one that inflamed and swept him toward relieving their destitution moved by their misery, and undertaking the formation of their morals -- and indeed with so lavish ^a benevolence and so great an impulse of will that, whether he was taking food or sleep, he could not draw his mind away from this single thought.

Wherefore, with the desire for the new work daily more ardently intensifying in the very fervor of prayer, he perceived the impulse of the divine grace that was calling him, and admitted it with his whole heart; and, as ^a guardian and father given by God to the wretched, he no longer dared to defer the holy work of charity. And so, having broken down the barriers of ^a faulty shame and having laid aside his empty modesty, he quickly put his hand to the work, and at that time laid the first foundations at Venice for the training of orphans (whom the common people, borrowing the word from the Greeks, call orphans), he undertakes the charge. in which work -- advancing it subsequently in many places throughout Italy -- the distinguished man strenuously labored with great fruit for souls and benefit to the cities, to his very last breath. And this humble Religious Order of ours, the Somaschi, which later emanated from him, maintains the same institute and everywhere promotes it to the best of its ability -- how beneficial to the commonwealth and how pleasing to God this has proved, we shall set forth at length in its proper place. Now let us follow Jerome's pious endeavor and holy offices of charity in so praiseworthy an instruction of the poor.

CHAPTER III

A Definite House Is Assigned for the Collected Orphans, and ^a Prescribed Rule of Life.

[10] First, to begin the careful education of this wretched and destitute offspring, ^a house was rented by Jerome near the illustrious church of San Rocco; He collects orphans, it was then furnished with all the equipment and furniture that could be of use for domestic habitation, suited to their poverty. Then an immense band of orphans, collected from everywhere in the streets and squares, was brought into the prepared quarters. he arranges for them to be trained in crafts, Finally, craftsmen were hired at wages to instruct the boys in sedentary trades, by which they might both relieve their present want to some degree, and someday make an honest living themselves, and when necessity demanded, support ^a family as well.

As for collecting alms, he did not allow anyone to slip away for this purpose if it could at all be avoided. For he considered it shameful and dishonorable for the healthy and able-bodied to seek their livelihood by begging, he forbids begging, unless Christian humility, or the constitution of ^a Religious Order, or necessity compelled it. And indeed, for those who, though of robust body and strong arms, so give themselves to idleness and sloth that they prefer anything to seeking their own livelihood by honest labor, we are bidden by an old Greek proverb to give bread but, as though for ^a relish, to deal ^a blow besides -- both aptly enough: the former, because it would scarcely seem human to deny bread to ^a man who asks for it; the latter, so that they may learn to abstain from that shameful manner of procuring ^a living, and may understand that they are justly hated by all good people, who through disgraceful idleness beg from others what they could procure for themselves by praiseworthy industry.

Jerome, therefore, did not wish the tender age to grow accustomed to idle and slothful begging, but to apply themselves to ^a trade, constantly repeating: "He who does not work, let him not eat." 2 Thessalonians 3:10 But from the work of so young boys, the profits that came in were so small that they were far from being sufficient to feed so numerous ^a flock. And so the entire care and weight of feeding the household rested upon Jerome alone, with God assisting his confidence; whose task it was both to sustain the life of the orphans and to pay the rent of the hired quarters and the wages of the teachers. Nor indeed, amid so great ^a number of boys and so great ^a famine, did he fear the present want, fired as he was with that confidence of his in God -- ^a want he did not doubt would be quickly relieved by divine generosity, as the outcome shortly afterward confirmed.

[11] But amid all this, he labored far more intensely in cultivating the souls of the boys with Christian piety, and that care clung more deeply to his heart; because, he imbues them with Christian morals, having taken upon himself along with the name of Father of the Poor also ^a burden fraught with danger, of forming their morals according to the precepts of the Christian law, he frequently turned over in his mind how dearly it had cost Eli the priest to have neglected the proper discipline of his children. Wherefore, though no definite rules had yet been established for this purpose, the boys were nevertheless not negligently governed.

Early in the morning, he would order them, awakened from sleep, all together while dressing, to recite aloud the Lord's Prayer and the Angelic Salutation, the Creed, and other devotions piously composed by him; of rising devoutly, then, the customary prayers having been completed, they attended Mass most attentively; of hearing Mass, from Mass they then went off to their trades. Nor, while the hand was intent upon work and the mind disengaged, was the mind allowed to wander in idle thoughts, or the tongue to dissolve in frivolous conversations; but, with ^a penalty imposed for violating silence, he restrained the tongue, of singing hymns while working, and sacred reading or ^a pious exhortation would salutarily occupy the mind. During their crafts they could often invoke the intercession of the Saints by name and recite sacred hymns and psalms, not without singing, and invoke the Queen of heaven and earth, the Mother of Mercy, in ^a prescribed formula and chant, of reciting the Rosary, and sometimes, with alternating choirs, sing together the sacred Rosary meditation of the same Virgin, beginning from the Lord's Prayer, which they all chanted together in ^a loud voice both at the start and at the completion of each decade; and when the full set of fifty had been completed, to add the Litany of the Blessed Virgin; and the Litany of Blessed Mary: so that the whole house resounded most delightfully with the voices of those chanting, not without great joy and piety on the part of passersby.

[12] Then twice ^a day, after the craft work was dismissed in the evening and before it was begun in the morning, they were instructed in the precepts of Christian law of hearing catechism twice ^a day, and the articles of the Catholic faith; then they were taught to recognize the letters and elements of the alphabet, to join syllables, and to read through words correctly. Jerome himself often formed and cultivated them in virtue by his own voice. All profane chatter was far removed from there; scarcely any conversation except about piety, which was of great importance in tender young souls.

When they were about to sit down at table, while washing their hands, they would render the fiftieth Psalm in ^a loud voice, of sitting down at table devoutly, offering some consolation and indulgence by their good prayers for those souls who purge the stains of their life in the fires of purgatory below; and this same office of piety toward the dead they performed both in the evening before supper and when retiring from supper to bed. The boys' bed was ^a small mattress stuffed with straw or chaff, the linens -- if any were available -- rough and coarse, of some cruder material; and of going to bed: nor was the coverlet any nobler. Their table likewise was very frugal, and was furnished mostly gratis by the mercy of pious benefactors.

Each month, and also on the more solemn feasts of Christ the Lord and the blessed Virgin, of confessing their sins frequently. he wished them to confess their sins. They all came forth clad in white, garments of cloth extending somewhat beyond the knees, so that the outward brightness of their clothing might seem to reflect the inward candor of the innocent boys. Each one also had ^a rosary of beads for praying and greeting the blessed Virgin, and ^a handkerchief hanging from his belt. And these were more or less the regulations by which Jerome, like laws, governed the pious establishments at that time.

[13] But what earned the greatest commendation and admiration among the citizens was when, on feast days, which he wished to be wholly dedicated to religious worship, as though ^a public procession had been decreed, He leads them on feast days, singing, to the churches, the boys would come forth in public in ^a long line, with the sign of the most holy Crucifix, the saving trophy of our redemption, leading the way, invoking the patronage of the Blessed by name and singing the songs of sacred prayers, traversing the squares, forums, and the more frequented places of the city. When they came to the sacred churches, some pause was made for supplication, then the singing was resumed and the interrupted procession continued; they attended the sacred rite and sermon, wherever Jerome saw fit, with great piety.

What ^a delightful and sweet spectacle this offered to the city, I could scarcely adequately express in words. An immense crowd of people, full of wonder, which had flocked together to view the unusual sight, accompanied the pious procession. From all directions, the more noble citizens came running through the streets to see it, suspended in anticipation at the novel spectacle -- and indeed with so great ^a feeling of piety and pleasure in all, that very many could not restrain their tears for joy; others, enticed by the sweetness of the singing and the piety of the boys at once, devoutly responded to the names of the Saints. But nothing equally moved the spirits of the Venetians he sweeps the citizens into admiration: as the very sight of Jerome himself, who in plebeian attire accompanied the new procession and kept it in order if anything went amiss -- ^a truly admirable example of Christian humility and charity. Those who shortly before had beheld him as ^a Senator of the Republic, most illustrious in both war and peace, seemed unable to admire and commend sufficiently what they now saw: that by ^a new and unprecedented example of that age, he had exchanged titles and pomp for humble abasement, wealth and possessions for Evangelical poverty, the purple and official robes for ^a worn and tattered garment. But he, more zealous for human salvation than for praise, considered nothing that might be profitable for the divine glory and salutary for men to be either alien to his age or repugnant to his person. This affair produced enormous movements in the spirits of the citizens, and aroused and kindled to piety the languishing hearts of many.

[14] With this illustrious example of piety more frequently repeated, the establishment of the new work was celebrated with such favorable murmur of approval from the entire city that, stirred by the fame of the unusual enterprise, very many from all ranks flowed to the dwelling of the poor, he is visited by many, intending to see with their own eyes the unfamiliar spectacle of Christian piety that they had received by ear. And indeed the very method of domestic discipline itself, the piety and modesty of the poor when observed in person, was ^a most joyful harvest of the holiest delight. And as the good repute of the new house spread more widely through the entire city day by day and won more public approval, the generosity of all who had the means was aroused and brought forth, that they might succor the destitution and want of the boys, lest so great ^a work of piety should be cut short by mere lack of sustenance. Indeed, besides those things that were daily collected by the common mercy of the people, ^a great many provided Jerome with fixed subsidies of money at intervals, and receives generous alms. by which the straitness of his domestic resources began gradually to be so relieved that, whereas before, under the pressure of want, the alms collected and the meager profits scraped together from the little workshops had not infrequently scarcely provided food for the small household, afterward, by the most timely generosity of the citizens, it came about that all things flowed so abundantly that among the needy there seemed to be no longer any room left for want.

Moreover, the fame of the pious work, spreading not without great praise of Jerome, rendered the man's virtue and piety more celebrated. And the more intensely he strove, out of Christian self-abasement, to lower himself to the most abject and worthless occupations, the more his distinguished reputation for sanctity grew among the populace. So much does solid virtue become more brilliant when disdained in abjection, and more illustrious through Christian humility.

CHAPTER IV

He Goes Forth to Collect Orphans from the Neighboring Islands as Well.

[15] Jerome's labor and zeal for charity shone forth all the more as the field of miseries extended more widely. For the calamity of the epidemic was not confined to the limits of the city of Venice, but gradually, as is usual, spreading more widely, after the urban devastation, it had pervaded the surrounding islands as well with even greater destruction. [To the inhabitants of the islands, situated in the lagoons near the city of Venice,] This entire harvest -- whether of sufferings and miseries, or of eternal glory -- Jerome destined for himself alone to be reaped by his labors.

In order that his charity and laborious industry in these places may be more easily assessed, it will be worth the effort to briefly reveal the position and nature of the place, and to describe some of the islands that, scattered irregularly, surround the city on every side. The city is washed far and wide by the lagoons gently pooling from the upper sea; for the entire circuit of the lagoons extends to approximately one hundred and thirty miles, and with the alternating tide of the stagnating waters ebbing and returning at fixed hours, access to the city is available only through various meanders and blind passages, with the larger and immense vessels excluded and forced to halt at the bay of Malamocco or Poveglia, five miles from the city -- ^a truly enormous defense for preventing any approach of enemies. For the unfamiliarity of the place, well known only to the natives and those accustomed by long use, provides ^a very difficult and treacherous entry to everyone else, with the perpetual and inconstant advance and retreat of the waters. For only at the fixed increases of water and through certain channels alone do those lagoons admit somewhat larger vessels; but if the certain channel is unknown, or if the decreasing waters appear with the tide ebbing, there lies the most immediate peril of blind shallows and low sandbanks.

The lagoons themselves, moreover, divided by moderate straits and channels, are frequented by many and most pleasant islands poured around the city on every side. Among the nearer ones, where the city itself faces from south to southwest along its whole front, Chioggia, Pellestrina, and Malamocco are seen; on the side turned to the north, Murano meets the eye; and at the very bend toward the northwest, Burano, Mazzorbo, and Torcello are counted; where it faces due north, Marghera, almost adhering to the mainland, closes the lagoons.

[16] This so widely extending forest of opportunities for doing good was the first one that Jerome encountered outside the city of Venice in his labors. he helps them, For when he understood that in these places some of the wretched were lying nearly dead, almost giving up the ghost, scattered everywhere in the roads, and others were wandering miserably, being gradually consumed by extreme necessity, he judged that he must also come to the aid of these, as though he had been assigned by law as their father and guardian. He often sent provisions solicited from the wealthier through certain agents; having collected alms: often he himself crossed over, to furnish abundantly those twin customary aids of his -- for soul and body -- by which he served the needs of his neighbors.

And so he relieved some with immediate alms, others with clothing, others with money; but the children of others -- still infants, either orphaned or whose parents had no means to feed them (for among the needy, Jerome pursued these with especial charity, [he sends children to Venice to be piously educated and returns them to their parents,] since their feeble age was nearer to every danger) -- he brought to Venice, assigned them food and clothing in the orphans' community, and arranged for them to be trained in some craft; and when they were sufficiently cultivated both in the precepts of Christian life for avoiding sins and in skill of trade for warding off the disadvantages of poverty, he returned them to their parents.

And indeed, most eager for the common salvation and most zealous for the divine glory, even in these places he would sow conversations about sacred things with everyone, admonish each according to the occasion about his salvation, instruct all in Christian piety, and, seizing the opportunity from the present calamity of the times, he corrects the morals of the islanders: more frequently instill the threats of celestial wrath, strike the fear of an angered Deity, and press them toward true repentance for their sins. So that, by indiscriminately teaching, correcting, and admonishing all, he at last drove many plagues of vice from the islands, brought many back to ^a better life, replaced wicked customs with salutary ones, and finally, at his departure, left among the islanders the imprinted traces of an extraordinary sanctity.

[17] At Venice, meanwhile, Jerome maintained his institution for ^a long time in those first quarters near San Rocco, he provides the citizens of Venice ^a stimulus to virtue, admonishing each person about his salvation more by the illustrious example of Evangelical poverty and self-abasement than by word and speech, and showing, by cheerfully leading the way, ^a safe path and certain road. Nor did those lowly services of Christian humility, the rigor of penance, and the constancy of prayers avail little among others, but that school imbued ^a great part of the city with the discipline of salvation. For very many, warned by Jerome's example and by the fear of their own perdition, emerged from the disgraces of vice; many so seriously applied their mind to piety that they zealously strove to embark upon ^a more perfect life; most, not content with the ordinary praise of probity, joined themselves to the institutes of Religious Orders, the remainder of their life's course being spent with the highest commendation for piety.

Meanwhile Jerome both exulted with joy and at the same time was astonished at the divine goodness, which had made ^a man who had formerly been an incitement to vices and sins now an incitement to virtue and piety -- so that what he had once corrupted by the example of wickedness, he might repair by penance. For with divine grace seconding Jerome's endeavors, his new persona and manner of life availed more for correcting Christian morals than his former free license of living had availed for corrupting them.

The establishment of the new house, moreover, was proceeding so well, and he receives more generous alms. and from the foremost Senators of the Republic and the more respectable citizens so great ^a sum of money was daily brought to sustain and promote the work, that whereas previously some had despaired of obtaining enough alms to feed even those first few, afterward, with the number nearly tripled, and the foundation of divine providence or confidence not failing, he abundantly fed them all. Wherefore, since divine goodness was daily promising richer increases for the new work, Jerome desired to expand the confines of the cramped house so as to increase the number as well; when it opportunely came about that his charity and industry were invited to ^a more ample place.

CHAPTER V

The Care of the Hospital for Incurables Is Entrusted to Him.

[18] Not long before, ^a notable work of piety had been established at Venice the hospital of the incurables begun by Blessed Cajetan by the efforts of Cajetan Thiene of Vicenza, who afterward at Rome, together with Giovanni Pietro Carafa, became the parent and founder of the Clerks Regular, and died in that Religious Order with no small praise of sanctity. It was ^a hospital in which there were to be cared for especially those among the sick whom either the cruel unfairness of incurable diseases tormented, or the debility of limbs marked with incurable disfigurement. Hence the place was named the Hospital of the Incurables, and with its beginnings quite fervent (as is usual in new works), the enterprise had for some time proceeded very well.

But, with the pestilential force of the disease not yet sufficiently suppressed, as some were continually being laid low upon others, either because the crowd of the sick was growing beyond due measure, or because the fear of the encroaching evil was turning the attendants from the care of the sick to the care of their own safety, it had fallen from its original purpose, the charity and industry of the workers had so frozen that, with very few and slow workers attending to the task, daily ministrations both of soul and body were wanting for the sick.

Therefore the men who were in charge of the hospital -- plainly noble both in piety and in birth -- being most anxious about the perils to so many souls and the sufferings of the sick, and having also observed Jerome's outstanding charity and manner of life, held nothing more important he is asked and undertakes it: than to transfer to him the management of the salutary institution. They earnestly beseech the man to bring his orphans into the sufficiently ample quarters of the hospital, to exert his efforts in that place for the poor and the sick alike, to rouse by his example the languishing zeal of the workers, and by his charity to restore and by his labors to sustain the work of piety that had nearly collapsed.

[19] The wishes of the noble men were not in vain; for Jerome, who was ever alert to every opportunity of doing good for his neighbor, did not refuse the charge, but, about to satisfy their requests most abundantly, shortly betook himself to the place to which he was invited, with the orphans as co-workers, and, as if he had attained ^a palestra of charity longed for from God, with the reins loosened for his ardor, he directed his cares and vigils toward helping the sick and the well with even more zeal than before. The orphans in that place had the same discipline of life as before, the same labor of crafts, the same ardor of prayers, but with numbers increased by many heads.

With the sick he ministers to the sick, and those lying in misery, Jerome was very attentive: he visited each one, consoled them most humanely, set before them and served their food, nor was he reluctant to lift them from their beds, carry them in his arms, and endure their foul stench. And this was more or less his daily task of charity: to make the beds of the sick, to cleanse the filth of their bodies, to sweep the refuse from the floor, and to perform the most lowly tasks. Nor did he attend only to the care of bodies, but pressed most earnestly upon the care of souls: for as he sat beside each of the most wretched, he would admonish them of their salvation, lighten the burden of their illness with pious conversations, and in the supreme crisis of their lives he strove to pave the way by Christian exhortations, he watches over their eternal salvation, so that the spirit of the sick person might come better prepared to meet the Lord at His coming -- being most anxiously concerned that the horror of approaching death should not overtake anyone whose sins had not been expiated by sacred Confession. And for those already laboring in the final agony he was so constantly present that he offered little draughts and medicines with his own hand, inserted minced food into their mouths, and kept nocturnal watches beside them, so that at every moment he might come to their aid with ready swiftness when dangers pressed.

All of which things were performed by Jerome to the extraordinary benefit of the sick and the admiration of the entire city of Venice, with the great commendation of the Governors: as those most distinguished men, the governors of the hospital, themselves witnessed, who everywhere proclaimed so many and so honorable things in praise of Jerome's virtue (yet in no way exceeding the truth) that it greatly embarrassed and shamed Jerome. They added moreover that nothing adverse need be feared for the Republic so long as it was sustained by the prayers of this servant of God.

[20] But he also poured out much of his charity upon outsiders. He was daily visited by many seeking counsel and instruction, and men of weight would come to discuss matters of the soul with him, and, as from one prompted by the Spirit of the Lord, would seek counsels of salvation; he is consulted by the foremost men, and he satisfied them so piously and prudently, with the Lord governing Jerome's mind, that what the common report proclaimed about his virtue and celestial spirit, the reality itself confirmed.

And as, by his example, the spirits of many were daily kindled more and more to piety, and the quarters of the hospital were daily more frequented, Jerome was most cordially and readily present to all. In this matter, what seems most worthy of admiration is that, although the care of the orphans -- whose number he had increased greatly -- the services to the sick, and the frequent visits of outsiders so occupied the man, [he serves everyone, and at the same time fulfills his double duty to the orphans and the sick:] and he constantly devoted his efforts to all of them, yet he so tempered all these pursuits of piety that the meetings and instruction of outsiders detracted nothing from the domestic administration; and this assiduity in turn toward those at home and outside detracted nothing from the care of the sick; again, the care of the sick was of no detriment to the salvation of outsiders or those within. And so, with an attentive mind seizing upon every occasion from his meetings and conversations for sowing piety, at no place or time, whatever else he was doing, was he ever lacking in the care of his neighbors' salvation.

he incites others to virtue, If he found any who were inclined to the good fruit of Evangelical virtue and somewhat more apt, he would try to advance them by salutary advice and instruction to the higher pursuits of piety. But those whom he discovered clinging to the mire of vices, he draws others from their vices: both by prayers poured forth to God and by applying more vigorous exhortations -- now impressing upon them threats of celestial wrath, now instilling the more cheerful promises of ^a happier age -- he would strive to draw them from that filth; and not infrequently he so played upon their hearts with hope on one side and fear on the other that he would extract without difficulty the promise of sacred confession and ^a resolution for ^a purer life.

[21] I could scarcely express in words how many he advanced to better things at that time by his example and his word; among whom, in the closest association with him above all others at that time, and indeed from among the nobler citizens, was the man who, with his own name shrouded in silence, was the first to commit Jerome's life to writing, scarcely in the second year after his death. To this one person alone Jerome opened all domestic matters, the crafts of the boys, in his prayers he employs four little boys as companions: and their characters candidly. From the entire number he pointed out four who had not yet passed their eighth year, to whom he would attribute the highest praise of piety in prayer. "These pray with me," he would say, "God very frequently confirming by the successful outcome of our petitions the simple faith of innocent children." Thus, if he obtained anything by his prayers, by Christian humility he would disclaim the favorable outcome for himself and attribute it to the piety and simplicity of the boys.

To the same friend he would show in order those who were advancing in reading, those in writing, those who excelled in their craft, those who were outstanding in obedience, those in silence; he uses ^a hard bed: nor did he conceal from him the very bed in which he slept -- one so narrow and rough that you would think it not so much the bed of one resting as the tomb of one dying.

He added moreover, as an exhortation to undertake ^a similar manner of life, so ardent an appeal that at times he burns with passion in his exhortations. it seemed to that noble man that not so much words were proceeding from the speaker's mouth to advance the soul, as ^a flame of celestial ardor was bursting from his burning breast to kindle the listener with divine love -- with tears meanwhile flowing from Jerome, which the desire for the celestial life wrung forth. Wherefore that friend, in his own writing, accuses himself and severely reproaches himself at this point for having profited too little from such ardent exhortations, and for not having been sufficiently softened to piety by that celestial ardor of the speaker, as though he were utterly made of iron.

CHAPTER VI

He Betakes Himself to Bring the Same Charity to the Cities of the Mainland.

[22] The more happily and according to his mind and will all things smiled upon him, the more vehemently was Jerome daily inflamed toward greater things. Among these, the thought sometimes entered his mind that it would be of great consequence for the divine glory and the salvation of souls if, He departs from Venice, leaving the maritime shore, he should cultivate the inland towns as well with the same labor and diligence. And so, having entered upon this resolution, and seeing the work he had established at Venice so well confirmed and standing on its own strength that in his absence he need not fear its collapse or ruin, despite the vain dissuasions of his friends, having frequently consulted the divine will by prayers, and having long deliberated the matter with the counsel of pious men, he quickly prepared himself for the new work. When it was spread abroad as most certainly imminent that Jerome was departing, friends left nothing untried to dislodge him from his adopted plan. But he could be moved from that resolution -- which he understood to have been divinely sent upon him -- by no prayers or tears of men.

Therefore, having left in charge of the orphans' education those whose prudence and eminent piety he had come to know by actual experience in that office, and with all other matters duly arranged and left in the protection of his noble friends, with the tears and grief of many -- which could not be concealed -- he was carried by boat to Lizzafusina (this is the farthest limit of the Adriatic inlet toward the mainland), then, leaning upon ^a traveler's staff and equipped with no provisions except his confidence in God he makes for Padua and Verona: and his burning charity, he directed his journey toward Padua and Verona.

[23] In this one respect he was especially fortunate on that journey: that, since he strove above all to refer all his deeds to the sole glory of God and to conceal them as much as possible from other mortals, lest any sense of human praise should diminish the divine reward, on this first pilgrimage he above all obtained what he wished -- namely, to lie hidden according to his heart's desire. For since it is beyond doubt to me that Jerome did not allow those days to pass in idleness -- he hides among beggars: rather, that he carried out the customary duties of charity and the labors of penance and poverty -- it is probable that, while he concealed himself inglorious under ^a humble garment among the flocks of the poor, and begged alms from door to door along with them, he often admonished them about the articles of the Christian law, about spiritual salvation, about the flight from vices, about performing penance, and spurred them to piety, seizing from every quarter the opportunity to press upon them salutary counsels.

But this at least is entirely beyond doubt and certain, from the public record of official documents and from the testimony of ^a Pontifical diploma: that ^a hospice for orphans was established at Verona by Jerome's zeal and efforts; he establishes ^a hospice at Verona. but whether this occurred at this very time, or at another, since the old records do not distinguish, remains unclear to me. There are, however, not ^a few considerations that incline the mind more toward the present period. The entire sequence of events and the construction of the work we are not permitted to guess at; therefore let us turn our pen to more certain matters.

CHAPTER VII

A House of Orphans Is Established at Brescia.

[24] I am entirely persuaded that his first expedition to Brescia from the territory of Verona, and the establishment of the orphans' dwelling, should be assigned to this very period: to which place the Lord first called Jerome, where He presented him with ^a field of deserving

well suited to his spirit and virtue that the Lord had prepared. For the noble city, not free from the common calamity, At Brescia fiercely harassed by famine and disease, was burdened with an immense throng of abandoned poor. Wherefore, when Jerome saw that everything far and wide was beset by the wretched, an enormous concern was cast upon his soul, and not only was his mercy moved, but his industry was aroused to bring consolation in the extreme crisis to the destitute offspring, he prepares ^a house, whom he did not despair of being able to raise up and help by his own efforts.

And so, in narrow and obscure quarters near the gate that bears the name of Saint John, having prepared things as best he could, he slips away to collect the wretched and the orphans, and in ^a short time ^a not inconsiderable number of them was found, he collects orphans, whom all care had abandoned, and whom want was gradually and miserably consuming in the streets. Having brought these into the prepared quarters, he begged their daily sustenance, and, himself also destitute, divided the collected mercy among the destitute. Nor was the timely generosity of the citizenry lacking to the wretched -- ^a generosity that was wrung out not so much by the poverty of the poor as by Jerome's burning charity toward the poor and his extreme austerity of life toward himself. he begs food for himself and them, For when he had spent the entire day seeking necessary supplies for the poor throughout the city, at nightfall, exhausted by the daily offices of mercy, the ground or bare planks provided his bed, and scraps of begged bread his meal; he admitted nothing for his own sustenance that he had not begged from door to door, and that had not been left over from the supplies gathered and distributed according to each person's need.

This ardor of Christian piety, observed for very many days, powerfully kindled the entire city to share their generosity abundantly with the poor of Christ; he arranges for them to be taught crafts: wherefore, with the timely charity of the citizens, the assistance of craftsmen was sought, from whom, once the boys had learned some trade at home, they would have ready means by which they might someday procure food for themselves and their families.

[25] But when, on feast days, ^a procession was decreed in his customary fashion, with the sacred banner of Christ hanging from the Cross leading the way, and the poor came forth singing the verses of sacred prayers, the novelty of the thing and the unfamiliar spectacle of piety brought enormous admiration and delight to all, and ^a fervor of religion entered the hearts of many. From that point on, the work began to be wonderfully celebrated and heartily approved throughout the entire city. Therefore, from the favorable murmur of approval from all, when Jerome saw that the hope of conducting the enterprise successfully was shining most brightly, he did not sleep upon the cause of the orphans, but diligently pursued it with the foremost citizens, and not without success. For, with the pious and ardent eloquence of the man and with the city strongly desiring ^a domicile for the orphans, he obtains ^a distinguished house for the orphans, shortly, by the ready generosity of the citizens, ^a sum of borrowed money was raised sufficient for the beginnings and growth of the community, until what had formerly been ^a cramped, rough, and obscure dwelling was soon polished and enlarged in its parts. With Jerome always setting before the citizens' eyes the straits of the orphans and applying sharp spurs to hasten the work, the pious place was given the name of the Misericordia. Not only did Jerome's pious assiduity at that time, but much more the singular esteem for his probity -- which flourished long among the people of Brescia -- wonderfully avail to increase the work, even many years afterward. For Zaccaria Pezzano, ^a pious and honest citizen, had determined to name the Misericordia as sole heir to his estate; but when ^a good many, most tenacious of the original poverty, asserted that it was less advisable for such institutions to grow rich with fixed revenues, and wished the inheritance to be transferred elsewhere, Zaccaria judged that the lovers of poverty should be accommodated in such ^a way that nothing would be taken from the welfare of the poor. later endowed with certain goods: Therefore he bequeathed his goods to the larger hospital of Brescia on this condition: that it should provide all medicines for the sick orphans, furnish the church with vestments, and build the dwelling in ^a more ample form -- all of which Saint Charles, carrying out the office of Apostolic Visitor in the Venetian province, ordered the hospital governors to put into execution; whence arose the new building that is now seen.

[26] But let us return to Jerome, who, while he labored wholly for the welfare of the poor at Brescia, learned by reliable report, spread by the conversations of many, that the affairs of the poor were in no better state at Bergamo, and indeed that they, shattered by ^a more bitter calamity, were imploring the last assistance of the pious. Jerome's compassionate heart could not long endure so great ^a calamity of the wretched; but, having arranged matters at Brescia, he departs for Bergamo. since the orphans' establishment at Brescia now seemed so secure that it could conveniently be administered by others, having made ^a careful selection from among the zealous, he placed men of proven fidelity and Christian charity in charge of the pious work; then, not without great sorrow of the Brescians, he hastened to Bergamo.

CHAPTER VIII

He Reaps ^a Harvest in the Territory of Bergamo: He Establishes Two Pious Institutions in the City.

[27] In the territory and city of Bergamo itself, it is wonderful how many and splendid things Jerome accomplished for the service of God and the salvation of souls; so that, by the truly happy lot of the people of Bergamo, he seems to have been destined by the Lord to those regions for the purpose of deploying all the forces of Christian charity. For upon first entering the territory, he found nearly all the dwellings emptied of inhabitants by the famine and pestilence that had gone before; so great ^a slaughter had been wrought among the rustic folk especially that, although the crops were already white for the harvest, no laborers were left to do the reaping, The crops, about to perish for lack of workers, and, with the sickle and the harvester long awaited in vain, the sown crops were already perishing.

But Jerome's charity could not endure so great ^a loss of produce. Having made himself all things to all people, he assembled some rustic folk whom he could barely gather, sought out harvesting sickles from every quarter, and, for the sake of averting the common calamity of famine, attacked the harvest in an undertaking no less useful than difficult and dangerous; having gathered rustics, he reaps, and although, in the most blazing summer and under the most burning sky, with the hostile sign of the Dog Star nearly scorching the fields, everything was seething with heat, the pious man was not thereby made slower to dare, neither by the unfamiliarity of the labors nor by the furious scorching force of the biting star. For although everything burned with great heat, Jerome alone was ablaze with an even more ardent charity. During whatever hours ^a pause from work was given to the harvesters -- both to restore their strength by rest and to refresh their bodies with food -- he would retire to offer his set prayers; then, with his body somewhat refreshed by water and bread, he would resume the interrupted work with the others, and in ^a few days' labor he saved what the shortage of workers would have destroyed.

But during that time his industry and labor were occupied no less in harvesting the crops than in helping the souls of the harvesters and forming them in the rudiments of Christian doctrine. he draws the harvesters away from base songs: For when they, by an old and customary practice -- though ^a depraved one -- would during the work itself, to beguile the time and lighten the labor, introduce silly and vain songs, and usually indecent ones, Jerome, prudently rejecting that frivolity of song, led them to singing sacred things with such ease that, when he would lead off with the Lord's Prayer, or the Angelic Salutation, or the Creed, or other things in ^a loud voice, they would follow his lead, and whatever part of the prayer he had recited first, the rest would repeat; so that the immense expanse of the fields resounded far and wide most delightfully with the voices of those singing psalms, by Jerome's new and salutary practice.

[28] These things having been accomplished in the countryside, he at last arrived at Bergamo, where, having again found ^a field equal to his industry, he undertook once more outstanding labors, but also reaped fruits that were not to be regretted. First, casting his eyes as usual upon the poor and orphans, whom extreme want was tormenting in the suburb of Bergamo he obtains ^a house for orphans, and nearly destroying, he began to think about relieving their destitution; and not long afterward, having prepared quarters outside the city as best he could, in the suburb of San Leonardo near Santa Maria Maddalena, ^a definite dwelling was assigned to the collected orphans,

and provision was made for their poverty. And when on feast days he would go forth with them through the city, with the boys singing the verses of the Litanies and other sacred prayers, all would flock together, transfixed with admiration, to the unusual spectacle. The rest concerning the care of the orphans, since it is more or less the same as what has been described above, is passed over in silence to avoid tedium.

But besides the boys, he also greatly pitied the plight of orphaned girls, and he raises up ^a house for poor girls. whose poverty not only tormented their lives but also betrayed their modesty. Wherefore, by Jerome's charity and labor, ^a definite dwelling was established for their desolation and want as well, with sustenance assigned day by day from the alms of the pious, and ^a rule of life prescribed. Both institutions have had wonderful growth up to the present day; and indeed the orphans' community, having purchased larger quarters in ^a more suitable location, was transferred elsewhere; while the girls' house, having been enlarged with more spacious grounds, preserves no small number of them either for honorable marriages or for sacred convents.

CHAPTER IX

Having Established ^a Dwelling, He Provides for the Salvation of Unchaste Women.

[29] He furthermore undertook another great and splendid work, celebrated throughout all Italy: [He was the first in Italy to arrange for unchaste women to live together as holy nuns,] to apply ^a remedy to the spiritual salvation of those women whom he saw defiled by the stain of dishonorable Venus; and this all the more zealously because he saw their throng spreading more widely and growing beyond due measure at Bergamo, to the great detriment of souls. Therefore, having once attempted the matter, he did not desist until he had led ^a good portion of them from impure love to ^a manner of Christian life. In this matter I judge that great gratitude is owed to him by all, as the first parent and author of this outstanding work in Italy. For before Jerome, I recall reading of no one in Italy who arranged for women of this kind, from the sordid and infamous trade of their bodies, to be brought to ^a religious life and enclosed together in one place in the manner of nuns.

At Paris, certainly, this is reported to have been done by Jean Tisserand, ^a religious of the Order of Minors, as recorded by Bard in his Chronicles in the year 1494, in the second year of Alexander the Sixth, where he is identified as the first who recalled women of prostituted modesty from that foulness of life to the care of chastity having erected ^a dwelling at Bergamo: and the sanctity of morals. At Bergamo, however, Jerome accomplished this in the year 1532, in the ninth year of Clement VII, and the fifty-first of his own age.

[30] The man of God therefore undertook ^a work truly full of labor and difficulty; but the fruit was entirely equal to the industry. First he dealt with certain honorable matrons, so that if any gains of souls should occur, he might immediately place them in ^a safe setting; then, kindled by the burning love of God and ^a great zeal for the salvation of souls, having attacked unchastity in its own stronghold, he carried the torches of the divine word into the very brothel itself, and visiting women of this kind in their houses, he endeavored by grave exhortation he approaches them in the brothel, and the ardor of Christian piety to inflame them (as he himself burned) and to lead them to ^a better life. In this matter so eloquent was the simple speech and fervent sermon of the unlearned man that many women of notorious and infamous reputation, softened partly by Jerome's ardent and pious speech, partly by divine power, suffused with shame and tears, having led them out, he places them with honorable matrons, emerged from their disgraces and impurities. Having brought these to honorable and noble women, he would first bid them, for two or three days, with the impulses of incontinence suppressed, to devote themselves to divine things, to give attentive ears to pious exhortations, and with their deepest feelings to weigh most carefully what was said about the eternal torments of hell, about the divine judgment, about the foulness of sin, and about the glory of the blessed. By these means it came about that, either struck with fear of eternal damnation or enticed by the celestial reward, they would more gravely detest their former life and more ardently embrace ^a new one.

But as Jerome pressed daily more upon the conversion of the remaining women, he found ^a great many who were quite resistant and hostile, often suffering mockery: who, receiving the man with mockery, made ^a jest of his salutary counsels, and utterly stopped their ears against the exhortations of the man of God. Yet that wonderful guide of souls did not abandon them, but circumvented them by such arts that they at last yielded to the victorious divine grace.

[31] He frequently visited the landlords of the rented houses in which they lived, he arranges for infamous houses to be rented to honest men, and admonished them that the shameful trade must not be permitted, that so execrable ^a marketplace must not be tolerated in their houses with so great an injury to God. Nor would he desist until, having expelled the wickedness, they had purified their houses of the prostitutional and hellish traffic. Then he would most diligently ensure that the utterly depraved women would not be received elsewhere; so that he would often find the most notorious harlots excluded from every dwelling, and, having most severely rebuked them, would finally cast this in their faces: to what point their most vain and hardened wills, set firm in sin, had brought them, that, cast out from every house, they were practically sleeping outdoors in the streets. With an ardent exhortation he pressed them to abandon their plans for an infamous life and by this necessity he converts many; and to adopt ^a holier frame of mind; if they were only willing to embrace it firmly, he himself would procure both an honorable dwelling and the other things necessary for their sustenance. They, goaded at once by conscience and by necessity, at so great ^a benefit offered for both soul and life, would surrender; and, once brought to the house, they would carry out what was commanded with no small diligence.

[32] When, therefore, many were recalling their minds from that foul and destructive trade to chastity, and their number was increasing day by day, Jerome, his spirit raised by the successful outcome, in order at last to bring that abundant harvest of souls into the granaries of the Lord, began to take action about erecting ^a definite place -- which he had previously determined in his mind -- he procures ^a house in which, living together, they may be out of danger, where both those already recalled from their error and whatever women should in the future return from that foulness to the care of chastity and the piety of morals might be fed together and formed in all piety by definite rules and constitutions.

The matter was absolutely most necessary: both so that the honorable families might at last be relieved of that burden, and so that the most diligent provision might be made for the women themselves, scarcely yet converted, lest they should dash again upon the same rocks of impurity -- in which all of Jerome's industry labored. For the prudent man perceived that it was arduous and exceedingly difficult to keep women of this kind, who had already publicized their shame and openly offered their bodies to all, so well in line that, with depraved habit gaining the force of nature, they would not return to their old ways.

Therefore, by the generosity of pious people and by Jerome's labor and industry, within the space of ^a few days there stood ^a dwelling sufficiently ample, furnished and adorned with goods neither meager nor unsuitable; in which all, enclosed together, were kept from the company and sight of men, especially of those with whom they had had impure dealings. Above all, the frequent use of the Sacraments was introduced, by the practice of which they might more easily preserve their minds henceforth intact from every stain of foulness.

[33] Whatever was necessary for daily expenses, Jerome most diligently supplied by collecting alms from the pious throughout the entire city from all directions; he procures the necessary expenses, lest, through the want of anything, women not yet accustomed to the hardships of such ^a life should be drawn away from their adopted resolution for ^a purer life, and should foully seek again in the flower of their age what was lacking. Rules and regulations for living were first published, not excessively severe, he prescribes rules. by the practice of which they might progress in holiness and righteousness; then gradually and by gentle degrees they were restrained by more severe precepts and formed toward austerity of life and the rigor of penance. The sudden cutting of many women's hair, the adoption of severe fasts, harsh scourging of their bodies, and other hard things of this kind were sufficiently clear signs that the world had been spurned from the heart.

Wherefore the work was so approved by the entire city that ^a not inconsiderable multitude of them was abundantly maintained without any fixed revenue.

For the generosity of the citizens was ready for this, and the benevolence of the pious was freely offered. Among the principal persons, upon whose favor and generosity the beginnings of the pious institution depended, the Bishop of Bergamo, Lipomano, and Domenico Tasso were numbered.

CHAPTER X

He Imbues Uneducated People in the Territory of Bergamo with the Mysteries of the Christian Faith.

[34] With matters thus arranged at Bergamo, he no longer confined himself within the walls, but going out to the neighboring towns, he applied his mind to instructing by his own labor the rustic and uneducated people, utterly ignorant of the Christian law to the known peril of their salvation. He grieved deeply that, deprived of the resource of learning, he could not more abundantly come to the aid of everyone's salvation; but, since neither his age nor his leisure invited him to letters, the lover of others' salvation resolved to provide for the salvation of his neighbors as best he could, by the example of his life, the simple explanation of salutary matters, and the teaching of the precepts of Christian life.

Therefore, fortified by the sacred blessing of the Bishop of Bergamo, Having obtained permission from the Bishop, and dismissed with his good leave (for he was accustomed to do nothing, great or small, in his diocese without consulting the Bishop), from among the boys already collected by him, he chose several who were more versed in the chief articles of the whole Christian doctrine, to accompany him having taken along some boys, as he went about the villages and towns, also for the purpose of instructing others. And, attended by that little flock, he approached the task more or less in this order. Upon entering ^a village, they would go to the church, he goes to the villages, and there, having offered prayer and greeted the patron Saint of that place, they would pray for ^a favorable progress of the work. Then, with ^a small bell brought for this purpose clanging through the village, the assembly was called together, and when an audience had been gathered and invited to the salutary instruction of Christian doctrine, he would descend to instructing the lowly and common people and the tender young. he instructs the uneducated, in the church, The boys assisted the work admirably; among them, with the burden shared, many were shortly imbued with the mysteries of the sacred faith.

Nor indeed, amid the labors of the boys, did Jerome's own zeal languish or his cares slacken. He would meet the older people and instruct those of more advanced age, among whom there was no small matter for his labors. For he found the most profound ignorance of the Creed and the commandments of God; many already advanced in years who did not at all know the formula of the Lord's Prayer and the Angelic Salutation, in the streets, in the fields: and who did not even properly make the sign of the most holy Cross upon themselves. Having instructed them sufficiently in the precepts of the Decalogue and of the Church, and in the other rudiments of the Christian faith necessary for salvation, he would invite them by ^a long exhortation to observe all these things. And this he did in the public forum, in the streets or in the fields -- wherever at last he had either gathered or found ^a gathered crowd, there he spoke, and under the open sky he thundered.

[35] His very familiar way of beginning ^a discourse was with those words of the Prophet: "Today, if you hear the voice of the Lord, do not harden your hearts" Psalm 94:8 -- an apt enough opening for first piercing the hardened hearts of men -- knowing well that nothing equally retards the divine inspirations and the celestial impulses of arousing grace, or utterly repels and extinguishes them, he breaks stubbornness, as the hardness of the human will, always struggling against the divine, and ^a pertinacity firmly set in its own sense -- that is, in sin. In his sermon, setting before them now the rewards of heaven, now the punishments of hell, bringing forth much about the turpitude of vices, he would drive his listeners toward the observance of the Christian law.

In this regard, Jerome's piety was so eloquent and his charity so articulate that he led very many, recalled from sin, to the best amendment of life -- who, having cast themselves at the feet of priests, would lay down by sacred Confession the burdens of many years. And indeed, whom would he not have moved -- he whom the Spirit of God plainly moved and urged? He addressed the multitude, it is true, with ^a simple and unpolished speech; but one so full of piety he procures amendment of life, and divine sentiments, with such ardor of spirit and eyes, and with such efficacy and manifestation of the celestial spirit, that his speech, sprinkled with that sweetness of spirit and kindled with ardor, pouring itself forth wonderfully into the souls of the listeners, readily advanced them to compunction of heart and amendment of life. And so by his humble and simple manner of speaking he begot more for Christ than the learned and eloquent sermons of many.

[36] Since he understood that, being entirely devoid of learning, as we said, he could be of much less service to the salvation of others either by speaking or by teaching, he therefore determined to compensate by examples of piety and the witness of his life for what he knew he lacked in this regard. he lives on begged food: Wherefore, as he went about the surrounding villages and hamlets with his constant catechetical instruction, he lived only on what was begged from door to door by the common mercy, and among the boys whom he employed for the catechesis, having divided the better food, he reserved for himself whatever was coarse and stale bread. In the evening, weary from visiting the villages and hamlets and instructing the uneducated, he prays frequently: he would give himself to prayer till deep into the night, as was his custom, and would resume the same before dawn. Even amid those daily offices of charity and the labors of teaching, he maintained his practice of not omitting certain periods for meditation and prayer, from which he returned more eager and stronger for procuring the salvation of his neighbors.

Nor indeed was the fruit of so great labors slight or to be regretted: for innumerable people were freed from ^a deadly ignorance of matters pertaining to salvation; the frequent use of the Sacraments and of penance was persuaded upon many; others, at Jerome's admonition, emerged by sacred Confession from the old mire of many years; very many, he produces various fruits among his neighbors. at his exhortation, having laid aside hatreds, came together with their enemies in mutual love and embrace; even that headlong license of rashly swearing and seizing the property of others (the customary vices of rustic folk) was greatly corrected and suppressed by Jerome's voice. But he also embraced the sick with the same charity; for if any were ill in the towns, he visited them most humanely and strove to relieve them both by prayers to God and by some salutary exhortation. Very many days having been spent in these labors, with great gain of souls, he returned to Bergamo.

CHAPTER XI

A New Accession of Companions to Jerome.

[37] The fame of his labors, flying ahead, had anticipated the man's return and had filled the entire city; so that so ardent ^a zeal for doing good to all, and so excellent and lavish ^a charity toward the very lowest, were everywhere celebrated in the conversations of all. By his illustrious example, no small gains of new offspring returned to him. For many attached themselves to him as companions in his labors by ^a firm resolution, [He joins to himself companions at Bergamo: Alessandro Besuzzio and Agostino Barili,] among whom are reported as the principal ones Alessandro Besuzzio and Agostino Barili, citizens distinguished in nobility and fortune, but each made even more distinguished and richer by an opulent ecclesiastical benefice. These, moved by Jerome's example, having voluntarily divested themselves of the revenues of their benefices and having assigned their ample patrimony to the uses of the poor,

devoted themselves as new laborers to the vigorous worker in the vineyard of the Lord, and most eagerly sought the very manner of life of him by whose examples they were inspired. Received most lovingly by Jerome into ^a share of the labor and the merit, they most diligently directed all their cares and thoughts henceforth to the salvation of their neighbors and the care of the poor; and under his leadership, with divine grace assisting, they advanced so far in the school of charity that to their very last old age they spent their lives in the Congregation most flourishing in the praise of every virtue, afterward they died in holiness, and at length, not without ^a considerable reputation for sanctity, were inscribed -- as we piously believe -- in heaven. In the same manner, other pious and upright men were also admitted into the same number, to whom the same purpose had been granted by God; and various others also ^a good many assistants, or auxiliary companions assigned to domestic labors, gave their names to Jerome during that period, whose fervor of piety toward God and ardor of charity toward the poor shone forth most remarkably throughout the entire city. A fixed total of their number, and the names of each distinctly recorded, could not be ascertained, since antiquity hands down everything to us in confusion and disorder. But I have no doubt that the names of the pious Brothers are known to God in eternal felicity.

Jerome, moreover, did not at that time need greatly to labor in speech or exhortations to win companions to himself; aroused by his zeal and virtue. since the brilliance of Christian piety meeting everyone's eyes, and the light of virtues shining forth in each of his words and deeds, inflamed the hearts and minds of men more ardently than the most eloquent speech, and stirred and swept their spirits more powerfully than the most eloquent sermon.

CHAPTER XII

Jerome's Expedition to Como, Very Fruitful for the City and the Poor.

[38] Beyond the borders of Venetian territory, he also at that time extended his pursuits of piety -- indeed he made an excursion as far as Como, At Como ^a town in Cisalpine Gaul most illustrious both for its antiquity and the glory of its more noble intellects. Jerome directed his journey thither with his customary retinue of boys, First he visits Count Primo, with the holy banner of the Cross leading the way. And he first visited Count Primo, who was then residing at Como -- ^a man not unknown to him before, I think. Having been received by him most humanely, with mutual marks of benevolence, they sat together for ^a long time in ^a secluded place and conversed.

After the conversation was interrupted, Primo ordered ^a table to be set and food to be served for the new guests. While the servants attended to this, Jerome with his companions, falling prostrate on his knees, he takes his food with the poor: spent some time in his customary prayer. When this was finished, and ^a blessing having been pronounced by him upon the food set before them, he divided the common bounty among the poor. Earnestly asked by Primo to sit down at the more honorable and more lavish domestic table, he commended the hospitality of his host and gave thanks, but chose to share the common table and food with the poor, for whom he served as both butler and cupbearer. After the meal, they give themselves again to prayers to give thanks to God, and when these were duly completed, having lingered for some time with Primo and his brother Francesco in pious conversations, he courteously asked his hosts to grant him their permission to go about the city with ^a procession of the boys.

[39] Jerome led the pious procession about in his customary fashion, singing sacred prayers; the unusual spectacle produced in the citizens the customary movements of admiration and piety, he institutes ^a procession of boys, and shortly the pilgrimage, or rather the procession, showed that it had not been undertaken in vain. For very many things were done by him for the common salvation of souls, especially to provide for the destitution and loneliness of the poor; and when he caught sight there also of their wandering and roaming multitude, he applied his mind to collecting them and establishing ^a dwelling. In the evening, having shared his plan with Primo and having invited two or three of those citizens who excelled the rest in piety and nobility, through the efforts of the same Primo, to share in the new work, he erects two houses for orphans, hands were quickly applied to hastening the beginnings of the pious foundation; and with the divine will happily favoring what had been piously and religiously begun, two places for the abandoned were shortly established by Jerome's customary industry and labor: one in the city under the name of San Leonardo, and the other in the suburbs at San Gottardo -- with Bernardo Odescalchi above all others striving and admirably assisting both works, ^a man of the foremost nobility of the city and father of Tommaso Odescalchi, once ^a Senator of Milan, who by his Christian generosity among others confirmed and increased Jerome's beginnings. Nor was the generosity of the citizens ever afterward found wanting for the permanence of the institutions.

[40] To relate individually what pertains to the domestic discipline, especially since it is not dissimilar to what has been described above, constant in the exercises of the virtues. I consider superfluous. For Jerome's customary pursuits of charity toward the poor and the remaining citizens were the same: the same austerity of life, the rigor of penance, the constancy of prayers and meditations, the dwellings of the poor governed by the same rules and discipline of life as those described above. As long as Jerome stayed with Primo, he used ^a room strewn only with straw, which he shared with the boys, for sleeping; he uses ^a hard bed, nor could he be prevailed upon by any of Primo's entreaties to be dissuaded from sleeping on straw along with the poor. Meanwhile, no small spiritual assistance was as usual extended to the other citizens, both by opportune exhortations and by timely conversations. Although that solid appearance of Christian virtue, he enlists companions: so often tested before the eyes of all with such great humility of soul, produced the greatest impulses toward piety in the minds of all, even when Jerome was silent, and attached to him very many who were kindled by the zeal of his institute. By their labor and effort afterward, after Jerome's departure, the pious institutions were most holily administered according to the prescribed form of discipline.

CHAPTER XIII

The Deeds and Death of Count Primo, One of Jerome's First Companions.

[41] Among the many companions whom Jerome attached to himself, the first place is rightly held by that man among these, Count Primo, of the stock of the Lombard Kings, who was also named Primo, by whom we said Jerome was received as ^a guest at Como. He was from the noble and most ancient family of the Counts, which drew its origin from three nephews of Desiderius, King of the Lombards, by his sister -- Amphortius, Fusius, and Catus -- who, having received as ^a gift from the King the entire tract of land that extends between Como and Lecco on the Adda to the very headwaters of Lake Lario, were also called Counts by the King as ^a mark of honor. Hence it came about that their descendants too were called Counts, and from those ancestors the family of the Counts was propagated, which had not only in those parts but also in Milan many men illustrious in nobility and learning, among whom our Primo here, son of Luigi, stands out -- who attached himself to Jerome as he wandered through the territory of Como, surely with ^a great return of interest on the hospitality he had generously offered.

Primo was most thoroughly learned not only in Latin and Greek, but also in Hebrew and Chaldean letters, a man of eminent learning and sanctity, and illustrious in the teachings of both human and divine wisdom, equally well versed in the studies of the liberal arts and in practical affairs; and, what is the main thing, he had lived so innocently that the most exemplary morals of his past life abundantly crowned the ornaments of his learning and experience. For Primo had so spent the slippery years of his youth at that whirling and precipitous turning of age that the probity and innocence of his morals admirably cohered with the instruction of Christian discipline.

41 cont. But afterward, having attentively contemplated Jerome's manner of life, and having frequently conversed with him about the love of celestial things and the contempt of human things, he was so moved by Jerome's example, conversation, and gentle companionship that he determined to attach himself entirely to Jerome and surrender himself completely to him; he submits himself to his direction, and he did so with such humility of spirit and ardor of words that he professed he would never depart from Jerome's judgment and will by even ^a hair's breadth; and whatever Jerome should henceforth decide or command concerning him, he declared that he would consider it not only just and equitable but also entirely pleasing and delightful.

Jerome received with great delight of soul so prompt and eager ^a will in the service of God, and admitted the new athlete into the same arena of charity. So great and ardent were his advances in the new manner of life that, whereas before he had been regarded as ^a learned Master of Philosophy and sacred Theology, then, when he began to become ^a disciple in Jerome's school, he frankly and openly boasted that he had been adorned with ^a new kind of Theology from the unlearned Jerome, he extols his instruction, and illuminated with the true light of Christian philosophy -- and that he had been imbued with ^a nobler doctrine, inasmuch as it is more excellent to act well than to discourse learnedly and subtly. "Night and darkness," he would say, "and blind wanderings of errors -- that was everything before; the true light of Christian philosophy then arose for me in Jerome's humble school, where I experience daily not my intellect being sharpened, but my will being polished and kindled to the love of God, by an outstanding contempt for himself and for human things."

[42] To this one man afterward, when he was sufficiently cultivated in the precepts of Evangelical poverty and celestial things, he is placed in charge of other locations, Jerome entrusted the care of the new establishments and placed him over the rest of the companions in their administration. And Primo performed his service most diligently, and was always uniquely dear to Jerome, who vehemently admired and frequently commended the singular learning in him combined with such great probity of morals and self-contempt -- because, as he himself would say, it is ^a very rare thing for knowledge and humility to be joined together; while we very frequently experience this: "Knowledge puffs up." 1 Corinthians 8:1 He, as long as Jerome lived, was of the greatest assistance to him in the care of the poor, both at Como and at Milan, and finally also at Somasca;

and surviving Jerome himself by many years, he never interrupted the pious work once undertaken.

[43] Moreover, when the Fathers in the thirty-second year after Jerome's death were thinking about establishing ^a Religious Order, and having already obtained ^a Pontifical diploma from the most holy Pontiff Pius V, so that by Apostolic authority they might freely pronounce the solemn vows of Religion, Primo alone of the society abstained, he does not take vows, pleading his advanced age and the weakness of his strength -- because his body, which had not received ^a companion equal to his spirit, was not suited to the burdens of religious life; or perhaps for this reason: that the man, although cultivated with such great ornaments of virtues and learning, was convinced that he should never be initiated into sacred Orders, so as to emulate Jerome's humility in this as well, he long refuses the priesthood, and was unwilling to be compelled to this by the authority of the Religious Order.

Yet not even by this means was he able to abstain from the priesthood. For when he had persisted in this resolution until advanced old age, at last the authority of Nicolo Ormaneto dislodged him from his old and firmly fixed determination -- the one person to whom Primo deferred most in the governance of himself, on account of his outstanding probity, by Ormaneto, his innate prudence of soul, and his knowledge of all things. Saint Charles had appointed Ormaneto to Milan because, having been inaugurated as Bishop of the Church of Milan, since he could by no means be absent from Rome at the bidding of the Supreme Pontiff, and yet was meditating an extraordinary and in every respect perfect care of souls and administration of the Church, he had resolved in the meantime to have this carried out, as far as possible, by most suitable men gathered from every quarter. Therefore, having summoned Ormaneto from Verona to Rome, ^a man most illustrious for his fame of virtues, and having invested him with vicarious authority, he placed him in charge of administering the Church of Milan; and there, by that active and diligent man, the first seeds were sown of so great ^a harvest in the Milanese field, Vicar of Saint Charles Borromeo, induced by whom he accepts the priesthood afterward cultivated and gathered by Saint Charles.

Since Ormaneto was on very familiar terms with Primo, and most ardently urged sacred Orders upon him on many occasions, at last Primo yielded to the one who rightly counseled him, and, having approved his advice, after many days of prayer and penance, with great piety, and above all having cleansed the faults of his entire past life by the sacred Sacrament of Confession, he was duly initiated into sacred Orders. Prepared to offer to the divine Majesty the firstfruits of the priestly Order, he celebrated his first Mass with great piety and tears of soul. From which time, carefully weighing the dignity of the office he had undertaken, so that he might approach the administration of so great ^a work adorned with the greater ornaments of the virtues, and might daily offer himself ^a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God, with earthly things far removed from his mind, he thenceforth pursued celestial things with his whole mind.

[44] Therefore, although he was free from the bond of ^a religious institute, he nevertheless spent nearly his entire life among us, most attentively devoted to the welfare of his neighbors and the poor and the care of souls. He resided for very many years at Milan in the dwelling of the poor of San Martino, established by Jerome, he teaches Theology, and taught in many houses of Religious that Theology which consists in the subtlety of disputation and the resolution of controversies concerning Christian truth. In explaining moreover the questions of the internal forum and cases of conscience, he offered his service to many during that time. He also served with great distinction as an interpreter of sacred Scripture among other Religious Orders. he preaches, Frequent, ardent, and wonderfully salutary addresses of the divine word were delivered by him to the enclosures of sacred Virgins. Sent by the Bishop of Como to certain new teachers from the Valtellina, he was most useful both to them and to very many other deserters from the Catholic faith, he converts heretics, whom, having recalled them from their insane opinions by meeting and disputing with them, he brought to the tribunal of the Inquisitors, so that by ^a voluntary abjuration, having bidden farewell to heresy, they might be reconciled with the Catholic Church. he attends the Council of Trent, He moreover attended the great and most celebrated Council of Trent, where he admirably proved his learning to those Fathers on many occasions. dear to Pope Gregory XIV, He was most dear to Gregory XIV, the Supreme Pontiff, to whom he also sent ^a Latin letter of congratulation on his assumption of the supreme Pontifical dignity. Zealous for poverty, he never accepted ecclesiastical benefices, however rich.

[45] Also by his effort and zeal, several works of Marc'Antonio Maioragio, ^a master of polished learning and ^a most eloquent orator, were brought to light; of which -- the very many that Maioragio had left to be printed upon his death -- he arranges for the publication of the books of his cousin Maioragio, the care was entrusted to Primo, his cousin. Among these, his commentaries on Cicero's Partitiones Oratoriae are especially commended, which, inscribed to Pietro Galesini by Primo, first came to light. He himself, ^a man most learned in other respects, left no literary monuments, so that Albano fittingly applied to him that famous saying: "He refused to write, because what ought to have been written, the page of his daily action displayed."

Primo lived beyond his ninety-fifth year, he dies in the 95th year of his age. with so vigorous and tenacious ^a memory of all branches of learning that, when questioned on any subject, he responded most learnedly, and rendered the opinions and inward thoughts of the learned so promptly and faithfully as if he had just lately drawn what he recited from ^a book. in the year of Christ 1593. He died in the ninety-third year of the past century. To him the greatest thanks must be rendered, because many things that we write about Jerome were derived from him -- the one person from whom Jerome's works could not lie hidden, since he was the inseparable companion of his life until his death.

CHAPTER XIV

The Life and Death of Leone Carpani, One of Jerome's First Companions.

[46] To promote Jerome's outstanding endeavors as well, the Lord raised up Leone Carpani, another companion, Leone Carpani, ^a man illustrious both in the splendor of his family and opulent and very wealthy in the abundance of his fortune. Jerome was directed to him by Primo, along with his poor charges, while Leone happened to be staying at Merone, ^a village of the parish of Incino -- which was formerly called the town of Licinius, not small or ignoble, but afterward destroyed by the Lombards and dispersed into various hamlets or villages. Leone, wonderfully delighted by Jerome's zeal for procuring the salvation of others and his charity for educating the tender and destitute young, was first ^a praiser and admirer of these works, and soon became ^a follower as well. For Jerome brought to him twenty-eight orphans whom he had had with him at Como, he receives him with 28 orphans, and commended them to his piety. Leone received them most humanely and generously pledged ^a portion of his resources for the sustenance of them and other poor. Jerome stayed for many days with the poor at Leone's home, from which he would slip away in his customary fashion in every direction to aid the common folk and to impart the first elements of the Christian religion.

[47] Meanwhile, the shrewd Leone was given the greatest opportunity during that time to become acquainted with his new guest and to thoroughly examine the inner feelings of his soul. He began, therefore, to investigate Jerome's life and morals more carefully, and to observe his words and deeds day and night, even unexpectedly, with curious eyes and ears. When by the undoubted testimony of his own eyes he daily discovered greater proofs of sanctity in Jerome by his example, than he had previously received by fame and rumor, and both his acquaintance with and admiration for so great ^a man constantly grew, Leone was vehemently moved in spirit. Looking more attentively at himself and examining himself against Jerome's standard, he began to turn over various and great things in his mind and to meditate upon the beginnings of ^a purer and holier life.

What especially pressed the man were the conversations on Christian perfection, and by pious exhortations he is kindled: on the salvation of the soul, and on the contempt of human things, frequently introduced by Emiliani in their daily association -- in which he was also accustomed to frequently press this point: that it is not always so great ^a thing, when one is in the midst of great abundance of fortune, to be generous whenever one pleases and to whomever one wishes, and to share some portion of what is left over in such great abundance with the needy; that this one thing alone was difficult and arduous, in which the sum of the matter seemed to consist: to live content with deprivation itself, lacking all things; to destine for the uses of the poor not only whatever is at hand in the present, but whatever future times may also bring; and furthermore, to hold all liberty of deciding, thinking, and acting subject to the authority of another. Jerome also frequently repeated this: that it is most foolish of us to defer from day to day the correction of our morals or the execution of good works long since conceived in our minds, since it is hidden from us at what hour our Lord will come -- who, although He has promised pardon to the penitent, has not, however, promised even ^a single day.

[48] These and other similar things clung to Leone's mind and were received as though spoken by the Lord to him alone; because previously also thoughts of this kind had frequently crept into and presented themselves to his mind, and had variously knocked upon ^a mind darkened by blind shadows and pressed down by sleep; but, ignorant of the celestial gifts, he had silently fostered in his breast the seeds sent from heaven, he resolves nor had he cultivated them with any practice of piety. But at last, softened and roused at once by Jerome's exhortations to repudiate human things, and by his example, he was so kindled to the love of celestial things and the contempt of the world that, having repudiated human affairs, he resolved to attach himself to Jerome's laborious life and abject discipline of spiritual exercises.

Having maturely weighed the matter with himself, he approaches Jerome alone, and, prostrate at his feet, humbly asks to be enrolled in the same manner of life: and to devote himself to the service of the poor: that it was in his mind to send his farewell to perishable things, and, having utterly renounced the possession both of his fortune and of his liberty, to submit himself wholly to Jerome's sole judgment and authority, and to devote himself, poor, to the service of the poor. He begs him therefore to satisfy so pious and just ^a request, which he did not doubt would be most pleasing to God. Nothing was more in accordance with Jerome's wishes at that moment. Wherefore, silently exulting with joy in his heart at so sudden ^a change, he gave thanks from the depths of his heart to God, the Giver of all good things, he is adopted among the companions, and, having most lovingly embraced Leone, he associated him with the number of Christ's poor -- whose resources were devoted to the benefit of those same poor. The subsequent progress corresponded equally to so ardent ^a conversion. For from the moment he committed himself once and for all to the perpetual care and discipline of so great ^a man, with the way scarcely pointed out, he began to press with the whole force of his spirit toward the precepts of his Master, he advances admirably: and, confirmed day by day by the benefit of that fruitful companionship, he so thirsted after the fountains of celestial wisdom that, like ^a busy bee alighting upon the flowers of spiritual words and examples, he daily stored within the beehive of his breast the honey of sincere piety and the virtues.

[49] Afterward, having been initiated into sacred Orders, he served in the priesthood for many years with such piety he becomes ^a priest, that he provoked all to emulation by his examples of the virtues, especially distinguished for his zeal of prayer and pious meditation, and for his humble self-abasement. He too survived Jerome by many years and was uniquely dear to Paul the Fourth, favored by Paul IV, by whom the highest dignities of the court were offered to him, but he most firmly rejected them out of Christian humility, humbly begging the Pontiff not to cast him into the raging waves of the swelling court, torn from the institute of ^a humbler life he had undertaken and from the pursuit of his own and others' salvation. Leone was present at the Pontiff's deathbed, strenuously assisting him as he departed to God with prayers and offices of piety.

Nor was Leone's probity any less pleasing afterward to Pius the Fifth; for he, greatly delighted by the man's virtue, and Pius V, placed him in charge of the religious chapel to which the more sacred and holier relics gave the name Sancta Sanctorum. And the Pontiff always gave so admirable ^a judgment of his virtue that he did not consider it beneath his Pontifical majesty to visit Leone when he was ill. He refuses the Archbishopric of Naples. They say that the Archbishopric of Naples, spontaneously offered to him by the Pontiff, was also refused with the same constancy with which he had refused the other dignities -- in which there was no ordinary proof of Pontifical benevolence toward Leone and an outstanding testimony to Leone's virtue, whether because he had been sought for so great ^a Church by so holy and wise ^a Pontiff, or because Leone had so splendidly scorned it with so unwonted ^a zeal for poverty.

Leone died, worn out by extreme old age, flourishing with such ^a praise of virtues and reputation for sanctity that he could be considered ^a disciple not unworthy of his Master Jerome.

BOOK THREE

CHAPTER I

The Principal Seat of the Congregation Is Deliberated at ^a General Assembly at Merone.

[1] Jerome's stay with Leone, extended over months, afforded an occasion for ^a consultation on common affairs, Having summoned various companions. and these were deliberated both with those whom he had near him, and also with those who were sent for and ordered to be present, who presided over the governing of the other houses -- either because ^a fixed time of year was pressing for conducting public business in ^a solemn gathering with the others, or because the pious generosity of Leone invited the rest and suggested that an assembly of the companions should be convened.

Therefore, with the assembly convened, Jerome proposes at Merone various matters for deliberation: after ^a long invocation of the divine majesty, they proceed to the deliberation of common affairs. Jerome is the first to address the assembled companions with ^a speech sufficiently ardent and grave, drawn from Christian piety, whose sum was this: that all things which flow from the divine mind are bound by definite laws and are established for perpetuity by the sweet disposition of divine providence, in ^a various and manifold interconnection; and that, with this fixed and inviolable order of things disturbed, each thing would fail and utterly perish. Therefore this care of the poor, instituted and undertaken by himself -- such as it was -- and administered by their effort and charity in many places up to this point, had undoubtedly proceeded from the supreme Giver of all good things, and must also be wholly conformed to the plan prescribed by the supreme Deity, and established for perpetual propagation for succeeding ages, after the example of divine providence. And that in no more opportune manner could perpetuity and prudent administration be secured than by ^a consistent and definite ordering of affairs, sanctioned by ^a common agreement. For this purpose they had opportunely been summoned to assemble, so that they might deliberate together in the Lord on those matters that pertained to the common welfare.

[2] Moreover, of the many things that were brought to deliberation by them during those days, this one has come down to us distinctly: that the most important item reported in that assembly concerned the choosing of ^a definite seat and principal place of the congregation. and that some seat should be chosen to be preferred above the rest, On this subject opinions were given with much variety: Merone was strongly approved by many; Vercurago was more desired by others, with Pietro Borelli, the vicar of that place, especially striving for it -- ^a man amply provided with worldly goods and intensely devoted to Jerome, who had contributed his property to the service of the poor and wished to adorn his native village with the dignity of the principal seat and to have his fellow villagers aided in divine matters by the present work of the Fathers. Somasca, however, was in the wishes of some, and the place seemed more suitable in many respects.

Whether anything definite was decreed about the Somascan seat at that gathering from the votes of others, he alone inquires: is very uncertain to me. For those who were closer to Jerome's times and who received the narration of the matter more plainly from those who had been with him, say that, with opinions varying, lest the uncertain deliberation be drawn out too long, it was referred in its entirety to Jerome alone, who, having surveyed various places and sounded the dispositions of the inhabitants, should choose the seat that seemed more suitable for the conduct of affairs -- since nothing definite had yet been decided about Somasca or any other place.

[3] Since he had therefore determined to seek ^a seat for himself in the territory of Bergamo, from which he might visit Como and Bergamo -- where the harvest of the good work had already grown -- and other places of the pious institute by sudden excursions when need arose, from the Valley of San Martino, more desired, and might conveniently reach Milan, to which his mind was already being drawn, the Valley of San Martino seemed most suitable for this purpose. Wherefore, it was first in his mind to settle at Calolzio, ^a convenient and not inconsiderable village, where also the church of the patron Saint Martin of the Valley was devoutly frequented. And when everything was answering Jerome's wishes, the rashness of ^a single man dashed and scattered the whole plan. This was Giovanni Antonio Mazzoleni, on account of someone's malicious tongue, ^a man ready of tongue, bold of spirit, sufficiently powerful in wealth, but not equally so in piety. Since he claimed the first place among his fellow villagers, he alone set about opposing Jerome and expelling him with his companions from that village. He vomited many insulting words against the man, and stirred up many not to allow this wandering beggar, this impostor and brawler (for so he called the servant of God, who was speaking to the surrounding crowd about the salvation of the soul with great piety and fruit) to fix his seat there.

But Jerome, although he could easily have settled at Calolzio, invited by the kindness of many, he departs: yet, since the minds of some had also been alienated, lest any dissension or quarrels should arise among the inhabitants of Calolzio on his account, the lover of peace and charity went elsewhere, departed from the territory of Bergamo, crossed the Adda, and stayed for some time at Garlate, not far from Olginate.

[4] But not even in that place did matters proceed according to his wishes. Wherefore, again invited by many, having recrossed the Adda, he returns to the Valley of San Martino, he returns, there at last to seek ^a seat for himself. For by now the empty noise had entirely subsided -- the curses that Mazzoleni had hurled against Jerome, whose well-known probity was eagerly sought at Calolzio above all. But he, having turned aside to the last villages of the Valley -- Somasca and Vercurago -- at last, not without ^a certain divine inspiration, preferred Somasca to all other places and chose it as the first and principal seat of his congregation. Why he preferred so humble ^a village to the noble cities and he chooses the village of Somasca. is not fully clear to me, unless perhaps we ascribe it to the man's outstanding humility -- one who, shunning the light of men and the splendor of the city, sought solitude and concealment.

Certainly Jerome's decision in this matter always prevailed so greatly that not only did those who most closely followed Jerome give the primacy to this place as the parent of all, but even many years afterward, when the Religious Order arose, they gave it the name Somascan, and the name of the humble village, scarcely known before beyond its narrow borders, they rendered illustrious in many parts of the world.

CHAPTER II

Description of the Village of Somasca, Its Climate.

[5] Since nothing will occur more frequently hereafter than the mention of the house of Somasca and the first seat of the congregation and indeed of the Religious Order, it will not be alien to the present narrative, nor unpleasant to the reader, Somasca, ^a village in the territory of Bergamo, to rescue from silence, in ^a not lengthy digression, the nature and situation of the place -- not altogether well known -- for the greater clarity of the history and of the deeds recounted. In the territory of Bergamo, on the side that inclines toward the south and, with the river Adda interposed, faces Mount Brianza, the not undistinguished and most pleasant Valley of San Martino may be seen, situated about six miles from Bergamo, nearly twice as long as it is wide; in the Valley of San Martino, for in length it extends beyond seven miles, and where it is widest it does not exceed three. The whole valley does not spread out very broadly into plains, but, rising gently into hills, is divided into approximately twelve villages, which are not sparsely or inconveniently inhabited. The chief of the villages is Caprino, situated on an elevated spot. The region is sufficiently fertile, but above all more productive of the best wine; in ^a fertile region, after wine, it abounds in oil, livestock, and other fruits, but not equally in grain, which barely, if even barely, feeds the inhabitants unless imported from elsewhere. But chestnuts, in which the Valley is especially rich, serve in place of wheat among them. Water is not in great scarcity: for besides rainwater collected, springs also burst forth here and there on every side, and with the soil frequently intersected by watercourses, it appears well enough irrigated. Moreover, the Adda River washes it in ^a continuous course, so that it does not lack fish either. The native folk, robust of body and strong in strength, enjoy ^a climate that is very healthful and most pleasant.

[6] Where it borders the Milanese dominion toward Lecco in the direction of Luppia, the two last villages of the Valley, Somasca and Vercurago, present themselves. between Mount Vallidirua, Above Somasca looms Mount Vallidirua, with ^a ridge so lofty that it could weary the very flights of birds: this mountain receives Somasca, sitting upon the gentle and low ridge of ^a hill, while at the very foot, at the plain of the Adda itself, Vercurago stands directly opposite Somasca. These two villages enclose the Valley: for scarcely does it extend beyond them for ^a few paces.

Somasca looks out almost directly across the Adda toward Olginate, and therefore the approach to it from Milan is easy and open. For once the Adda is crossed by public ferry, ^a spacious plain presents itself, running from the bases of the mountains to the river's banks: but the ground is somewhat rough, stripped of every kind of plant, and the rivers Adda completely shorn of all undergrowth, and strewn with frequent gravel and larger stones: encumbered also by the banks of the Adda, which are level with the water: so that if heavy rains occur, the slippery and marshy mud renders the crossing uneven and difficult, especially when the Galavesa sometimes overflows, which, arising in the highest mountains and slipping through steep crags between their summits, is driven by ^a long and winding course through torrential whirlpools along rugged valleys, until it emerges into this open plain of the river, where it has scarcely any banks to contain it, but in ^a slightly hollowed bed, not sufficiently wide, discharges itself through the gravel into the Adda. The outermost part of this plain is intersected by the Galavesa, which divides it from the mountains, and the Galavesa, and once this is crossed, ^a hill of no great steepness begins to rise, five hundred paces or less where the way is shortest, nowhere open, but everywhere thick with much growing forest of trees and the wild cultivation of fields, so that one cannot easily see within. But as the ridge intertwines, the path partly reveals itself and partly lies hidden: and indeed the hill rises by so gentle ^a slope that it repeatedly spreads out into level fields, and proves most fertile in grain, wine, and other crops, and most pleasant with the variety of green cornfields and trees.

[7] Somasca itself sits upon the very summit of the slope, ^a thoroughly humble village of the valley, upon the summit of the slope, where at most two hundred inhabitants are counted: but it is most distinguished for the healthfulness of its air and the mildness of its sky; with healthful air, for what is reported about the climate of that region could scarcely seem credible, unless the long life of the inhabitants, and their vigorous old age even in advanced years, confirmed the same; for those who close their final day before the age of sixty are considered to have been snatched away quite prematurely, since at that age they are especially accustomed to endure the labors of agriculture and to disregard the force of heat and cold, and the other injuries of the seasons, and they enjoy ^a green old age up to the hundredth year: which benign nature of the sky I believe should be attributed, among many other things, both to the very situation of the place and to the winds. And indeed Aristotle more than once affirmed that ^a habitation on hills is most healthful, and experiments in many places confirm that those living there live nearly twice as long as others; because, that is, they do not use ^a sluggish, stagnant, and torpid atmosphere, but one purged by the blasts of winds and almost always restless: for no place has air more impure than that which is devoid of agitation, purged by winds, because that sluggish sky must necessarily grow thick from the vapors and exhalations daily released from the earth, be filled with smoky and foul-smelling spirits, and, as it were, be soiled and defiled by filth: hence it happens that those who live under it scarcely ever enjoy good bodily condition, are deprived of every complexion indicative of firm health, and contract from it ^a perpetual leanness, until, with the body gradually wasting away, they are carried off by ^a lingering illness to death. But if those vapors and exhalations are dissipated by the arrival and agitation of winds, or are digested and purged by stronger heat generated by the impulse of the breezes, then the greatest healthfulness and cheerfulness accrue to the sky. Of these advantages Somasca is exceedingly rich: for, with hills rising on every side, it is most pleasant, and the frequent agitation of the winds, thoroughly purging the air, makes it most favorable to good health: moreover, the more healthful winds are admitted, while the noxious ones adverse to good health are absent. And since gentle and moderate breezes are more desirable and pleasant than rapid and stronger winds -- because, as they say, it contributes much to the healthfulness of ^a place by the obstacle of mountains and trees being broken if the more violent winds, even if healthful, blow having been first broken and weakened by the obstacle of mountains or forests, and breathe, as it were, weary from ^a long journey -- even this advantage is not lacking to the Somascan site; since on that side from which the greater force of winds can arise and their fury can break forth, it is so fortified by opposing mountains, themselves wooded, that with all their savagery broken, they blow most gently and approach softly, which also occurs with pleasure: for everywhere the dense trees, shaken by the blasts of winds, clash their luxuriant foliage and branches together in such ^a way that from that friction of boughs and leaves ^a perpetual murmur and most pleasant whistling of the breezes breaks forth. And such is the nature of the site and place. To return, then, to Jerome and our purpose, having explored, as we said, other places, and having sounded the dispositions of the villagers, with difficulties arising on every side, no place seemed more suitable than the Somascan ridge, where at last the seat was established and the domicile of our religious order was founded.

CHAPTER III

The Domestic Discipline of Those at Somasca, and the Offices of Charity toward Outsiders.

[8] Jerome first lodged with the Ondei family, whose house was visible in the square of Somasca, well suited for receiving the poor: Having rented quarters, afterward it was rented for the use of Jerome and his companions, and enriched with furnishings by the generosity of Andrea Borelli, who was the one who most energetically advanced the pious work with his industry and money; but it was rendered far richer by Jerome's rules and laws. For in this house ^a domestic discipline of such ^a kind was established as befitted this house, the head and president of the rest, from which, as from ^a fountain, more abundant examples of all the virtues would be derived into the others, and whence all the households would fetch certain, firm, Jerome establishes the first seat, and everywhere consistent rules of living, as from ^a head, and draw the pure spirit of our institute and discipline.

[9] Poverty was preeminent above all, both in food and clothing, and in the rest of the furnishings, he prescribes the clothing and diet of the poor, which Jerome desired to be poor and scanty, preferring to have ^a trifle rather than an estate at home. And certainly the diet was very meager, and likewise dry and harsh, chiefly of the kind that is customarily used by rustics: and lest even that slender fare should cause any of the former ardor to diminish, ^a pious reader was appointed over the table, who might continually nourish the fire of devotion conceived by sacred reading during meals. Moreover, that the more delicate stomachs, accustomed by nature and use to more sumptuous fare, might quickly grow accustomed to harsher foods, the ardor of suffering and the zeal for mortification accomplished it, which burned beyond measure among them, with Jerome continually applying fresh fuel and kindling greater flames; who showed himself ^a wonderful Master in chastising bodies and breaking the wills of the Fathers and rejecting their appetites, so that sometimes they would accuse the man of excessive severity and harshness; and indeed they were sometimes stirred by the little commotions of the old Adam, which afterward, having been calmed by the benefit of divine grace, all confessed that Jerome demanded an entirely reasonable service. This distinguished mortification of bodies and wills was accompanied by ^a zeal for obedience and humility: humble obedience, of which virtues Jerome, most fervent himself, wished others to be not unlike him. In addition, daily and nightly prayers, and daily periods for meditating on divine things were never interrupted, and frequent prayers: and pleasant nourishment for the mind was sought from sacred books by constant reading: and, lest they grow languid from perpetual rest, they also broke their bodies from time to time with labors: and these things indeed were done at home.

[10] But outside, diligent service was rendered to their neighbors, and very many aids of soul and body were conferred on both the sick and the well. Jerome turned himself, in his accustomed manner, to seeking out the wretched and abandoned young, and to carrying out the customary ministries to the poor. But when he observed that very many were wretchedly afflicted and nearly destroyed not so much by poverty he takes up the care of the sick, as by various diseases, and the Valley lacked suitable physicians for the sick, he took their care upon himself. For being not ignorant of many things that were effective for thoroughly healing those wounds and ulcers and removing those diseases, which, sometimes arising spontaneously, torment and torture certain parts of the body with the most bitter languor by swelling, or suppuration, and abscesses; with ^a new ardor of spirit, he resolved to exercise this new kind of charity also toward those, for whose benefit he had diligently acquired for himself the knowledge and practice of these things. And so very many sick were sought out and gathered from everywhere, soon to be healed by Jerome's treatment: very many came, foul with hideous swelling and ulcers: he cures diseases with suitable remedies, others in whom the putrefied humors beneath the skin had turned the blood to pus: from the tumors of others, swarming worms exhaled ^a most foul odor: but Jerome never shunned filth, nor shuddered at putrid corruption, nor turned away from the stench: but full of piety and duty, touching the places foul with swelling and pus with ^a gentle and soft touch (lest the cure or service should cause pain), he would wash them with warm water, purge the worms boiling forth with the pus, then, having applied ^a remedy and wrapped them with bandages, he would give alms and send them home: and when the sick were tended with the same service more frequently, they were at last restored to health. and holy prayers: Nor do I doubt that very many ulcers, which would easily have eluded the skill and industry of all physicians, were purged and healed more by Jerome's excellent favor with God than by ointments. Moreover, how much zeal and ardor he brought to these duties of charity, let this one thing, quite remarkable in this kind, attest: that if ever he experienced his senses somewhat recoiling from the foulness of some disease and ulcers, and was hindered from his duty by that sight, he would immediately summon that deformed and most hideous sick person, he kisses foul ulcers as if the wounds of Christ: would tend him more diligently than the rest, and, to take revenge on his resistant senses, pressing his lips to the ulcers, he would repeatedly imprint kisses upon them: and this with as much pleasure of soul as if he had been kissing the wounds of Christ the Lord.

[11] With even more intense care Jerome's efforts turned from the health of the body to the salvation of the soul. He went about frequently through the villages of the Valley, instructing each person in the teaching of the catechism and Christian precepts: he aids the neighbors with catechism, and scarcely any conversation of Jerome and his companions with outsiders concerned anything other than the salvation of the soul and pious matters -- namely, the last day of life, and pious conversations, the account to be rendered by each person to the supreme Judge, the torments of hell, and the joys of eternal life; ^a truly useful and exceedingly fruitful manner of interaction. Indeed the practice of pious conversations was so customary among them that it was regarded as ^a kind of crime if anyone, in dealing with outsiders, had not introduced some suitable discourse about piety and had not sent the person away enriched by some salutary instruction. No pursuits, finally, were as dear to them as seeking the divine glory and protecting human salvation, in procuring which, intent on pious cares, they perpetually labored, with great fruit, not with small or regrettable fruit for their neighbors. For indeed great gatherings from all sides were made to the Fathers for the sake of spiritual instruction, especially on feast days, on which each one was wholly engaged in delivering exhortations to the simple folk, and at the same time in imparting the doctrine of the Christian faith to the boys and that unlearned populace.

CHAPTER IV

Jerome's Journey to Milan, His Trust in God, and the Remarkably Distinguished Generosity of Francesco Sforza toward Jerome.

[12] While these things were being accomplished at Somasca, Jerome, ever devising greater things in his mind for the benefit of the poor, resolved at last to establish also ^a new domicile for their use in Milan (which he had long embraced in his mind), allured indeed by the very great hope of spiritual gain in that most noble and highly populous city. Wherefore, having excellently arranged domestic affairs, having blessed and bidden farewell to those at home and abroad, he departs from Somasca with 35 boys he undertook to break this new ground as well, and since he was setting upon ^a great province, he departed attended also by ^a great army -- namely ^a band of thirty-five boys: whom he led about, arranged as if in battle formation under the banner of the Cross, and singing the Litanies of the Saints and other prayers amid the discomforts of the journey, singing the Litanies: because he had already learned by experience the discipline of similar places, and that through them it would be easier to establish new houses, and others would be more conveniently trained by their example. Moreover, to illustrate Jerome's pious labors more clearly, it happened by the design of divine providence he is seized by ^a fever: that on the very journey Jerome was seized by no slight fever, and some of the boys likewise fell ill along with him. But here there were no monetary resources, no human comforts for relieving the sick: for the servant of God brought no assistance for his journeys besides his one most certain hope in the supreme Deity, and he set out equipped with no other provision: indeed the aids of the journey were the chance mercies of the people encountered, and hospitals provided shelter.

[13] And so, having struggled for some time with illness and weariness on the journey, he at last came upon ^a place, formerly an infirmary, but then ruined by age: he lies down in ^a ruined and deserted house: it was truly ^a ruinous hut rather than ^a house, open to the injuries of heaven, with doors and gates torn away, everywhere pervious to the blasts of winds and rains. Hither the sick Jerome betook himself with his companions, and lying on the ground upon straw that happened to be there, he bore the discomforts of his illness, moreover destitute of all human aid, awaiting only heavenly help. But the supreme goodness did not frustrate its faithful servant, since not long afterward it happened that ^a certain admirer of Jerome was traveling that way, who, catching sight of the throng of boys and perhaps guessing the situation, approached the place, and finding the man wretchedly burning with fever, kindly invited him and earnestly asked that he allow himself to be carried to ^a lodging, which was not far distant, where if he withdrew alone, he would be received most humanely, and would also be treated generously, until, with the force of the illness broken, he should recover. he refuses hospitality without the company of the boys: But Jerome by no means accepted the benefit of lodging offered to himself alone: for, having most graciously thanked his friend, he replied that he could not make use of that benefit unless Christ's poor were also admitted with him, with whom he had resolved to live and die; but, whether because it seemed too burdensome for the man to gather that throng of boys in his home, or because the narrowness of the roof and lodging excluded so great ^a multitude, that good man did not consent, and departed for Milan. But Jerome, feeling somewhat better with that rest, and seeming to have recovered some strength also by divine aid, and the boys having become altogether better, was now meditating, cheerful and with spirits raised, to return to the labors and discomforts of the journey he had begun, so much did the love of Christ and the thirst for the Cross mitigate whatever was harsh; but the strength of his body was by no means equal to his spirit.

[14] Meanwhile, however, that friend of Jerome, ^a steward of the affairs of Francesco Sforza, Duke of Milan, had abundantly reported to the Duke what had befallen him on the journey, and what ^a great man Jerome was: moved by which, that most religious Prince by the command of Duke Sforza he is conveyed to Milan: immediately dispatched men who should conveniently convey the sick Jerome to Milan, by whose service he was carried into the city (for with his body now languishing, he was no longer able to proceed further on foot), and he earnestly requested to be taken to ^a humble hospice, with that small band of boys flanking his sides: and when they spontaneously offered him ^a more splendid and respectable place, even in the Palace, and everything more convenient for his treatment, and also urged the Duke's wish upon him, Jerome never consented, who would prefer the discomforts of voluntary poverty to all the delights and splendors of the court. He was therefore received in ^a small and very cramped dwelling, which, adjoining the chapel of Saint Martin, served for the collecting and keeping of those boys who, wandering from their paternal home or parents, he chooses ^a small house: happened to roam vagrant and dispersed throughout the entire city. The humble lodging was most pleasing to Jerome, as being very consonant with his institute; and when the Duke commanded that he be generously supplied with whatever things were needed, he, ever giving thanks to the Duke's kindness through intermediaries, money offered by the Duke through ^a courtier mindful of evangelical poverty, would not accept the offered comforts.

[15] Wherefore the Duke, wishing to test so great ^a contempt for human things and true evangelical poverty, sent ^a nobleman of the court to Jerome, who should report to him that the Duke most earnestly commanded that he munificently supply whatever was necessary for sustaining his life and that of his companions: and, that deeds might lend credence to words, he offered him in the Duke's name ^a purse stuffed with much gold, and urged him to be willing to accept this transmitted gift with ^a willing heart and to provide for his own and his companions' necessities. Although Jerome was unaware of the direction in which the Prince's generosity was tending, nevertheless, taking counsel for himself from the solid virtue of poverty, and having given the most ample thanks in words, as so great ^a munificence of the Duke demanded, and having wished him all prosperity and happiness, he replied that he was entirely prevented by the laws of that supreme poverty, which he had proposed to profess, from enjoying the present monetary subsidy: on the other hand, the messenger urged that it was permitted for the poor, without violating the laws of poverty, he does not accept, to accept what was offered; and therefore he would sin in no way against the rights of perfect poverty if he complied with the Prince's generosity: but he could by no means be prevailed upon to accept even ^a farthing, testifying that he devoted himself not to gold but to the salvation of men and to evangelical poverty: indeed that he would inflict no slight injury upon divine providence if he stored up so great ^a sum of gold collected in his possession, when that providence sufficiently supplied him and his flock, begging for their food from place to place and from door to door, day by day in abundance: wherefore he must greatly beware lest so lavish ^a generosity of human aid should detract anything from his trust in divine help and providence: and repeatedly rejects what is thrust upon him: wherefore he begged that he might be permitted to sustain himself and his companions by daily labors or by food gradually collected by begging, according to his old institute. And when the courtier still more zealously offered and earnestly thrust the money upon him in the Duke's name, he always received the same or ^a very similar answer, namely with the royal munificence of the Prince praised, and the diligent service of the courtier commended. Finally, to make an end, in refusing money so bravely and constantly, Jerome showed himself so tenacious of holy poverty that, with the poverty of his resolution surpassing the generous beneficence of the Prince and the industry of the courtier, the money was rejected with an altogether greater constancy than it was thrust upon him.

[16] Francesco, wonderfully delighted by this so distinguished deed, although he had already conceived no ordinary opinion of Jerome's virtue; yet wished to be more certainly informed through his Ambassador, [he is esteemed more highly on account of the nobility indicated by the Ambassador,] who was then residing among the Venetians, concerning the man's nobility and deeds: from whom when he had received many things, worthy of equal praise and admiration, that Jerome had accomplished both in arms abroad and in the toga at home, from that time he began to honor the man more humanely than before and to favor his institute vehemently, whose virtue, confirmed by ^a great reputation for sanctity, he admired.

CHAPTER V

The Beginnings of the Pious Place, and Various Judgments of the Milanese about Jerome.

[17] Jerome's care was first directed toward this end: that for the boys, both those brought with him and those wandering vagrant and scattered throughout the whole city of Milan, he might establish ^a fixed domicile, and, having rescued them from the perils of body and soul in his accustomed manner, might place them in safety: which pious wish of the man, when reported to the Duke, was strongly approved by him, and he appointed ^a certain active and industrious man from his household to oversee the matter, who should hasten the establishment of the place and ensure he obtains ^a domicile for the orphans, that nothing should be wanting for completing this business. The Duke's mandate was diligently carried out, and those very buildings, in which we showed above that Jerome first settled, were designated for the use of the poor, with Jerome strongly approving the place. And when those buildings belonged to the rights of the larger hospice, in the Duke's name and authority, expenses contributed by Duke Sforza, with bills of sale duly drawn up with the hospice's administrators, and ^a certain portion of the price paid, it was thus agreed between the parties that the buildings should be ceded for the perpetual use of the poor, with Francesco meanwhile paying an annual rent until he should arrange for the full sum of the price, some money also being allocated for the first furnishing of the new house, which was entirely observed while Sforza was in command. But scarcely in the second year after that agreement, with Francesco carried off by ^a most bitter and perpetually lamented funeral for the Milanese, then by Philip II, King of Spain, the agreed money could not be paid. Wherefore, with the Milanese dominion having devolved upon Philip the Second, it pleased the Catholic King that the former contracts should retain the same force, and he ordered the annual payment of the price not yet paid to be made from the public moneys of the royal treasury: and the Bishop of Macerata: which pious decree of the King was religiously observed for many years, until by the inheritance of Galeazzo Moroni, Bishop of Macerata, the needs of the pious place were so relieved that there was the means to discharge both the other debts and this one also.

[18] But I return to Jerome, who, having now obtained the desired domicile, diligently turned himself to collecting the poor and orphans, of whom he assembled so great ^a throng within the enclosures of the hospice in ^a short time that their sight was equally ^a matter of wonder and of delight. he instructs the boys, I shall not here further relate the method of establishing such places: enough has been indicated from what has been said hitherto. The same cares fell to Jerome, the same labors to be exhausted, while he established the domestic discipline, while he arranged for the boys to be formed in piety and in ^a trade, while he sought resources for them by begging throughout the entire city. Nor shall I relate at length with what immense congratulation of the leading orders the procession was received on feast days with ^a solemn supplication, and with what great praises the boys' piety and modesty were commended: the conjecture is easy from what has gone before, to the public applause of the city: though all these things seem to have had ^a certain something more of splendor and public acclamation at Milan.

[19] But lest in so great ^a praise of the work there should be no material for humility and patience, and his proven virtue might shine forth more brightly, Emiliani experienced the uncertain and doubtful judgments of some, and the unjust judgments of the common people, about himself. For while, relying on the support of so great ^a Prince, or much more on God's, he labored with many toils in that work, and was ^a subject of admiration and conversation for many; he is mocked by some, there was also ^a manifold and frequent murmuring of the people about him, with opinions varying, especially in so large and so populous ^a city, and with the radiance of his deep sanctity not yet fully unfolded before all. Wherefore at the beginnings of his works, he was an object of contempt for many, who, accusing the man of hypocrisy and sloth, openly called him ^a deceiver, ^a dotard, and by various names of contempt, and did not fear to assail him with reproaches and insults. Others, with the divine power thus tempering their feelings, thinking better, since they conceived something above the human of Jerome's virtue, by others he is honored as ^a saint: vied with one another to rush forward to kiss his hands or garments in veneration of his sanctity, or would bring to their mouth the hand with which they had reverently touched the garments of the passerby, intending to kiss it. But the judgments of some were suspended in expectation of the outcome, since they would neither approve in the present the new and unusual work of ^a foreign man, nor dare to censure openly what was being done in the very light of the court with the approval of the Prince and the highest Orders. Wherefore with attentive minds they observed where his deeds would finally lead, whose splendor of virtue they could not yet clearly discern with the dim sight of their darkened mind.

[20] But for Jerome, as those acts of reverence that were offered in his veneration were very disagreeable; so when, while begging, he encountered others along the way he rejects praises, mocking him with gibes and witticisms, or openly reviling him with abuse and insults, he would pass them by with stopped ears, wonderfully glad that he was receiving gifts more precious than those he sought, and more desired, he delights in reproaches, namely the noble alms of mockery and insult: and it was very common, when he went out to collect public charity, entirely disfigured by squalor and emaciation, clad in ^a coarse tunic, to be received with hisses and abuse, with ^a playful crowd of boys pursuing him from behind as if he were mad: for indeed the extreme pallor of his face, the threadbare cloak, the sacks hanging from his shoulder, and the unkempt and long beard easily made the man an object of mockery and reproach among the senseless mob. For ^a long time Jerome bore the unworthy contempt of the lowest rabble, never moved in spirit even in the slightest degree: so much did the love of Christ and contempt of self absorb all the derision he draws all into admiration, and swallow up the reproaches; until, when an occasion was offered for his solid virtue to be more clearly unfolded among the common people, which I shall relate, all things finally turned to the commendation of his probity and virtue, with contempt converted into admiration, and insults falling back into praise. And it was in this manner.

CHAPTER VI

He Assists the Milanese Suffering from Disease: His Charity Is Commended by ^a Distinguished Testimony of the Duke.

[21] From the movements of the wars, by which for some years the entire Milanese province had been shaken, as from ^a baneful seedbed there had clung to the minds of the Milanese the deadly germs of all vices, which, when the tumults had subsided, with contagious diseases raging at Milan, as if they had found peace and quiet as their cultivation, daily spread and extended more widely, so that no semblance of piety, no signs of charity appeared. And while Jerome hastened to extend ^a timely hand to souls rushing into hell, both by the example of his life and by word and exhortation, the populace set no value on the man's pious services; but when, to avenge the crimes of the wicked and to exercise the virtue of the good, the severity of diseases began to afflict the city and to invade frequent households; then especially did Jerome's virtue shine forth, and the man's surpassing charity, making no distinction whatsoever, was commended far and wide among the people. For when all were trembling and struck with fear in that sickly and almost pestilential unhealthiness of the year, and exceedingly few and rare appeared who would render service to the multitude of the suffering and undertake so great ^a burden of the sick; Jerome alone, having put aside all fear, both in his hospice of Saint Martin he serves the sick with great charity, and elsewhere even at the risk of his own life, was at hand for the ailing, for whom he had resolved either to give aid by all means, or at least to lay down his life in the common calamity. And truly this, if any, was the occasion that most illustrated Jerome's charity. For those whom he perceived to be afflicted by ^a graver illness, he visited more frequently, and with varied and gentle speech encouraged them to endure the sickness of spirit and the pains of the body: and having narrated from memory many things, pleasantly, about the constancy of others in enduring torments and pains, he endeavored to alleviate the weariness of their sickness and the bitterness of their disease. And when, with the disease raging, everything was at last filled with the squalor of the wretched and ^a most grievous and foul odor, such as is wont to be among the sick in destitution; yet all observed with great admiration that Jerome was strenuously present to all, lifting those who lay prostrate if need be, setting the prepared food before them with his own hands, and finally carrying out studiously and humbly all those duties which would seem to be rendered to ^a Master by an attentive and diligent servant.

[22] Nor indeed was divine goodness lacking to so pious ^a labor and so ardent ^a charity; for when that incurable force of diseases was now raging so grievously throughout the entire city, through the heads of all orders, he is preserved healthy with all his helpers: that it seemed unable to be mitigated by any human counsels, by any diligence, by any prayers poured forth, and daily many bodies, afflicted with ghastly wasting, were wretchedly consumed and perished by the force of the disease; yet Jerome was always preserved whole and untouched: indeed (which almost surpasses belief) not one of those whom he nourished and cared for among the sick in his hospice, whether of the boys or of the attendants, was lost during that entire time, which was regarded as ^a miracle by all: and this all attributed not indeed to Jerome's diligence and industry, although that was very great, but to his sanctity: since he strove to repel the raging illness not so much by medicines as by prayers and great austerities of penance, to avert the most just scourges of the offended Deity, and to render the angry God propitious to his household.

[23] How many things Jerome accomplished for the common good during that time, exceeding the estimation of all, the following will easily attest. For the Duke himself, considering through the agency of Giovanni Pietro Carafa (upon whose judgment he had learned that the man greatly depended) that Jerome had been destined to Milan for those works of piety, he is praised by Duke Sforza, having sent the most courteous letters to Carafa through his Ambassador, then residing at the Republic of Venice, gave him the greatest possible thanks for having sent the man to Milan, to so great ^a benefit of the entire city: which expression of gratitude Carafa honestly acknowledges was by no means due to himself. and by Giovanni Pietro Carafa, later Pope Paul IV: It pleases me here to quote his own words, in which, in ^a letter sent to Cajetan Thiene at Naples from Venice on the eighteenth of January, one thousand five hundred and thirty-four, he explains the matter thus: "Our Bergamasque Emiliani, with the Bishop's permission, left Bergamo, and, having led with him an army of thirty-five soldiers, made for Milan, where I shall not say with what great applause he was received: this only I shall say, that the most illustrious Duke of Milan gave thanks to me through his men who are here, who came to me with letters, as if I had sent Emiliani there: and certainly this honor is conferred upon me without cause." Where he calls him "Bergamasque" because, having stayed there for some time, he had accomplished those things which we mentioned above. By that army of thirty-five soldiers, he means the boys whom Jerome had brought with him. You have, dear reader, in the same place two very weighty testimonies to Jerome's virtue, one of Francesco Sforza, Duke of Milan, the other of Giovanni Pietro Carafa, not long afterward elected Supreme Pontiff.

[24] Moreover, how greatly the rest of the citizens esteemed him, and what judgment they formed of his manner of life, he gains new companions from the nobility is declared by the very numerous men from the nobler ranks who voluntarily attached themselves to the same manner of life. Among these, Federico Panigarola is commended with especial praise of piety, from that order called Apostolic Protonotaries, who, having spurned riches and despised honors, devoted himself entirely to the divine service, and, following in Jerome's footsteps, in the same place of Saint Martin, led ^a life flourishing with the praise of all virtues, Milanese, conducted over many years, and at last concluded it at Somasca with ^a great reputation for sanctity. The same mind was also given by the Lord to Francesco Bavio, and Girolamo Novato, and another Girolamo Calco, and Ambrogio Schiepato, all Milanese; to whom were added Agostino Gallo, the one whose writings on agriculture, composed in the vernacular language, are read, and Giacomo Alesio, noble citizens of Brescia, Brescian, then Bernardo Odescalco of Como, and another from the Spinola family of Genoa, likewise Francesco of Tortona, ^a man distinguished for his learning, and Guido of Vercelli. To these, moreover, many others of noble birth and literary learning were daily being joined, who, having spurned the comforts of human life, Genoese, etc. and having bidden farewell to liberty, did not hesitate to undergo the discomforts of Christ's poverty and to commit themselves entirely to Jerome for formation. And this was considered ^a clear sign of divine power among sensible people -- that ^a foreign and almost unknown man, devoted to the vile and abject service of the poor, should have drawn so many, and these from the leading men of the city, from the summit of wealth and family splendor, down to the most abject ministries of the poor.

CHAPTER VII

His Deeds at Pavia.

[24] This Milanese expedition was immediately followed by the no less fruitful Pavian one, which he undertook at this time, Greatly desired, having sufficiently well arranged matters at Milan and having appointed suitable men from the foremost nobility to govern the boys, since that city was no more than twenty miles distant from Milan. Moreover, the most celebrated fame of his name and virtues had preceded Jerome's arrival, which, on account of his admirable contempt of all things above all else and his extraordinary charity toward the needy, had won for him among those citizens the highest reputation for sanctity, so that they longed to behold him present at some point, about whose virtue so great ^a report resounded. Therefore the first footsteps of Jerome impressed upon Pavian soil offered to the eyes of the citizens those things to behold which the fame flying before had already placed before all their minds. Scarcely had he entered the city when many came to meet him, he is received at Pavia, gathered around the unusual and eye-unaccustomed spectacle, for whom the throng of the poor, bearing aloft the saving sign of our redemption, seeking the prayers of the Saints, and modestly and devoutly performing hymns not without the chant of the Church, was ^a source of such wonder and delight that they seemed unable to satisfy their spirit and eyes sufficiently with the new appearance of the unusual spectacle; but Jerome above all they gazed upon, nearly stupefied with amazement, and revolving in their minds his nobility and virtue, he edifies all with his pious manner, all marveled at how, at so advanced an age, in so vile ^a garment, with such great humility and devotion of spirit, he accompanied the procession, whose grave, ardent, and most modest glancing of his eyes, and his noble appearance, though covered with squalor, and even his worn garments, seemed to breathe piety and to exhale sanctity.

[25] And so the nobler citizens vied with one another to offer him their own homes and to invite him to their hospitality, considering that man sufficiently blessed, he does not accept the hospitality of nobles, and greatly honored, who should first have the privilege of receiving the servant of God under his roof. But he, most tenacious of his poverty and humility, having most modestly given thanks to all, prevailed at last that he be led to the hospital, he turns to the hospital, which those who presided over the public infirmary (which bears the name of Mercy) so willingly arranged that they dismissed several already received there, so that there might be ^a more commodious place for Jerome and his companions: for indeed, with the multitude overflowing, the spaces of the infirmary at that time did not admit all; he yields the place to the sick, but Jerome by no means tolerated this, earnestly protesting that he would absolutely withdraw to some other public and open place if his arrival caused even the slightest inconvenience to the first guests. Wherefore for some days he stayed at the church of Saints Gervasius and Protasius under the common portico. he dwells in the public forum: Divine benignity amply compensated for such great humility of soul and charity toward neighbors: for indeed it seemed good to the administrators of the hospice to designate ^a place for Jerome, where he might withdraw alone with his companions and freely preside over them.

[26] There was ^a small house near the chapel dedicated to the Holy Spirit, to which place the city had given the name Columbina, from the dove, the symbol of the Holy Spirit, he receives ^a small house, which was depicted before the doors, and it is still customary even today to call it the Columbina. That Jerome should lodge there was permitted, but not without the great providence of God; which the event itself shortly indicated. There he began to perform the accustomed duties of charity toward the poor and all others, but especially to set about with great energy of spirit dealing with the leading men of the city concerning the establishment of ^a new domicile for orphans: nor was it difficult to accomplish the matter to his heart's desire, he erects ^a domicile for orphans, for indeed all whose concern it was most willingly assented, and granted him that same place, to which he had withdrawn with his companions, in perpetuity for the completion of that work. At which happy outcome Jerome, wonderfully joyful, without any delay immediately began to gather destitute orphans to himself, to arrange the domestic discipline, to exercise them diligently in the instruction of piety and of ^a trade, and then to procure energetically those things that served for the domestic furnishings and for preparing food for the poor. He went out daily laden with sacks to beg alms everywhere and to seek the means of life for the poor housed in the domicile, and he frequently made the rounds of the markets with ^a basket to buy provisions, while they, remaining at home, were trained in mechanical arts by the work of craftsmen, learned the chief articles of the Christian faith and sacred prayers, which afterward, with their ranks formed, he instructs them in holy ways: they chanted on feast days throughout the entire city in the accustomed manner. Great movements of souls were produced in the city, great emotion and ardor for piety from the inspection of the new work: the institute of which, afterward augmented by the generous kindness of the Pavians (as that city is noble for very many other things, but most especially for Christian piety), still flourishes even now to the great advantage of the poor citizens. Thus, with divine goodness contending with Jerome's humility and abjection, it came about that he who had chosen the public squares for his lodging ^a little before, lest he should be an inconvenience to the poor in the infirmary, immediately found ^a permanent domicile both for himself and for the poor.

[27] But while he was forming his household members in virtue by his accustomed discipline and wholly instructing them according to the norm of Christian piety, he devotes himself to the salvation of outsiders, he also applied himself with equal efforts to the advantages and salutary benefits of outsiders: and whatever aids he felt he lacked from learning and talent for procuring the salvation of his neighbors, he strove to compensate by the examples of his life, as we said before: he gains companions, by which he had learned from experience itself that human hearts are more ardently kindled and more sharply stirred than by the most eloquent speech. And certainly how much Jerome's labors corresponded to his heartfelt desire and the immense profit of the citizens, ^a pair of most noble companions shows, whom he brought back as illustrious trophies of victory: concerning whom, before we proceed, some things must be said here in passing.

a The author wrote in the margin the year of Christ 1534, his age 53.

CHAPTER VIII

Concerning Angelo Marco Gambarana.

[28] Angelo Marco and Vincenzo, both Counts of Monte Segale and of the very illustrious and ancient Gambarana family among the Pavians, Two nobles of the Gambarana family, distinguished not only in wealth and nobility but also in moderation of spirit and civic prudence, were by common opinion considered to be easily the foremost among their countrymen, two most brilliant lights of the entire city. These men, having frequently observed Jerome with ^a true sense of piety, kindled by his examples and exhortations, and having tasted somewhat inwardly the sweetness of virtue, not only felt that they were putting on entirely new dispositions and experiencing new impulses toward piety; having seen his virtues, but they were also being driven by frequent goads to give themselves entirely to him. But, with the delight of the world sweetly flattering their mind and senses, they were still being distracted, and with the splendor of honors and wealth dazzling the sight of their mind, they wavered in uncertain counsel of soul; nor could they sufficiently sort out the reasons of their life or see what was to be followed. But when that singular sweetness and power of Jerome in skillfully handling and turning human souls had more frequently made its approach through salutary conversations, and kindled by his conversations, at last they considered the humility of his institute far preferable to the titles of honors, and, having cast aside human glory in comparison with the desire of heavenly glory, they resolved absolutely to flee to poverty and the Cross as to ^a haven of salvation. And so they were admitted by Jerome into the discipline of Christ's poor: they embrace his institute, certainly much nobler and more illustrious, by giving this example of Christian humility and abjection among their fellow citizens, than before by birth or wealth. The rare and unusual example stung many hearts to piety. And such illustrious beginnings of Christian piety were always followed by ever greater advances in both of them, some of which must be briefly reviewed here separately.

[29] And, to speak first of Angelo Marco, he seems to have been dear to Jerome above the rest, Angelo Marco, sharing indeed in his counsels and ^a companion of his travels; he also served as his secretary, for some letters written in Angelo Marco's hand still survive among us, his secretary, and signed by Jerome's own hand with the autograph of his own name. At which point it comes to my mind to consider that Angelo Marco was always most highly esteemed by Jerome among the rest, because, taught by the benefit of heavenly light, he foresaw in his soul what ^a generous Leader the Lord was preparing for his nascent Congregation, by whose virtue it would one day be sustained, by whose authority governed, by whose zeal and labor established for the perpetuity of the institute, and finally adorned even with the name of ^a Religious Order. And certainly this one seems to have been chosen by the Lord especially for completing and perfecting those works of piety at his death he confirms the wavering, which Jerome, departing by ^a premature death, had left unfinished. For first, at Jerome's death, when very many were wavering in spirit and meditating ^a withdrawal from the institute, they were confirmed in their well-begun course by the effort and authority of Angelo Marco.

[30] Then, when the companions experienced many adversities in the progress of their works, and opponents were not lacking who, by their authority and power, gave much trouble and annoyance to those strenuously laboring in the Lord's vineyard, it was resolved by all, with Angelo Marco reporting, that they should seek to have the Congregation fortified by Pontifical authority, he obtains privileges for the Congregation and that it be permitted by the Apostolic See to carry out its duties, with the audacity of opponents vainly resisting. For this purpose the same Angelo Marco was dispatched to Rome: nor could the common cause have been undertaken with greater zeal than he showed; for he transacted the matter with the Supreme Pontiff so diligently and prudently -- who was then Paul the Third, of the Farnese family -- from Paul III that by Apostolic letters given in the fortieth year of the past century, on the fourth of June, he conferred very many distinctions upon the Congregation. in the year 1540, The document of these letters is still preserved among us in the archive; moreover, the first copy of them appears in the Bullarium of the Religious Order, not long ago published in print by order of our Superiors. confirmed by Pius IV in the year 1563. Of the same kind also are the letters afterward obtained from Pius the Fourth in the year sixty-three, on the twenty-seventh of May, but far more ample than the former favors and privileges.

[31] But Angelo Marco, by no means content with these things, who had taken upon himself with his whole heart the business of confirming the Congregation, at last began seriously and zealously to work toward having it enrolled by the Supreme Pontiff in the register of Religious Orders, propagated for succeeding posterities, and bound by definite laws. He was moved not so much by his own counsel as by that of the deceased Jerome, whose mind and intention he knew well: but he had judged it best to dissimulate and to defer the business until ^a more opportune time. Therefore, after the matter had been frequently brought to deliberation with the other Fathers, lest in so grave ^a consultation they should be deceived by their own judgment, they resolved to settle the whole matter with the Lord, and to explore the divine will through prayers, sacrifices, and other bodily afflictions. Wherefore for many days all persevered in prayers and sacrifices, to which they added not ^a few vows, fasts, after prayers having been offered, and other harsh bodily penances: through outside pious and religious priests also, many Masses were arranged for the same intention: and penances having been assumed, then, after the heavenly Deity had been sufficiently propitiated by the practice of spiritual exercises and the rigor of persevering fasting, they at last deliberated by common vote on the matter proposed; that since, with Jerome snatched away too early, and the Religious Order not yet canonically established, the Congregation, limited to the narrow lifespans of ^a few men, would seem likely to perish easily -- after serious deliberation because indeed very many, well cultivated both in literary studies and in character, and bound by no bond of obligation in the Congregation, were either giving their names to other Religious Orders everywhere, or slipping away to rich secular benefices and other dignities -- they should procure this also, as the last thing, for completing Jerome's distinguished undertakings: that by Apostolic authority, the Somascan Congregation should be enrolled among the sacred Religious Orders: so that the perpetual fruits of so many labors and works might flow down to posterity, and, with the Lord again blessing, might ripen more abundantly in the vineyard of the Church for the glory of God and the salvation of souls. The greatest hope of successfully completing the business was afforded by the fact that in Rome the matter was to be negotiated with the most holy Pontiff Pius the Fifth, who had once been most devoted to the Fathers of the Congregation, by that Congregation and was intensely attached to the memory of Jerome, with whom he had dealt frequently. Therefore from among the Fathers, the conduct of the affair was entrusted to Luigi Boldoni of Pavia, ^a man cultivated in both divine and human letters, numbered among the Religious Orders by Pius V and then professing Greek letters in the most flourishing University of Pavia; who, having set out for Rome, so quickly brought the business to ^a happy conclusion that the Supreme Pontiff, in the year one thousand five hundred and sixty-eight, on the sixth of December, in the year 1568, on the very feast day of Saint Nicholas, by ^a public diploma given, graciously conferred upon the Somascan Congregation all the rights of an approved Religious Order, with an honorific encomium of both Jerome and the Fathers added besides.

[32] With the confirmation of the Holy Apostolic See obtained, the following year, sixty-nine, dawned by divine benignity as ^a truly happy and auspicious birthday for the Religious Order, and with profession made in the year 1569, namely with solemn vows of profession emitted by six of those first Fathers with due ritual on the twenty-ninth of April, the sacred day of Saint Peter Martyr and Catherine of Siena, at Milan, in the very chapel of Saint Martin; with the Bishop of Tortona, Cesare Gambara, ^a noble Count of Brescia and Royal Senator of the Duchy of Milan, receiving the very vows according to the prescription of the Apostolic letters. After these proceedings, those Fathers immediately went to vote for the election of ^a General, and by the common assent of the votes, Angelo Marco was proclaimed the first Superior General of the Religious Order, he is elected the first General: with no one dissenting except himself, and he administered the Order for ^a full three years. For it was provided by the Pontifical diploma that it was not permitted to extend that supreme dignity beyond that. Both his distinguished deeds in that office, and the illustrious examples of virtue produced throughout the subsequent course of his life, since they pertain to the history of the Religious Order, I leave in their entirety to its historian; here I shall only briefly touch upon his happy death as ^a sample of his entire life.

[33] It was Angelo Marco's custom to render the fixed daily psalmody from the breviary, prostrated on his knees, devoted to prayer, to devote himself at greater length to the contemplation of heavenly things, and then to perform the sacred office, in which ministry he was so affected by an intimate sense of piety that among the prayers and offerings of the sacrifices, he begged nothing so humbly and earnestly from the Lord as that on the very last day of his life it might be permitted to him to immolate that spotless Victim.

Indeed, piety was granted to the man by divine goodness even beyond his prayers; for to one most eager for praying and performing the sacred rite, even with death now approaching, it was permitted both to attend to the holy sacrifice and to prayer. For with the force of the illness pressing, on the last day of his life he celebrates Mass while sick, divine power so increased his strength, already near death, that on the very day on which he died, he was able both to rise comfortably from his bed and to perform the sacred rite with an unusual piety of soul and most abundant tears; so that that unaccustomed ardor and sense of piety of the one celebrating could have been, had it been noticed, ^a not obscure presentiment of approaching death. After the divine rites had been duly performed, again deprived of strength, he took to his bed: and when Angelo Cerro, then very distinguished at Milan both for medical skill and for family, had visited the sick man, and having examined the pulse of his veins, had detected the gravity of the illness, he ordered attendants to be perpetually present with the sick man, who, prepared for every eventuality, should guard the patient day and night. On the following next day ^a sacred day was approaching: he hears the confessions of his household, and so in the evening, as was the custom, he sat down to hear the confessions of his household; for he was so dear to all the members of the household by that paternal charity and gentleness of his, that they far more willingly revealed the secrets of their hearts to him, though he was the Superior of the house, and opened by confession the innermost recesses of their conscience and the stains of their souls, than to the priests assigned for that purpose. But when he seemed too exhausted from hearing the confessions of the numerous household: there were those who begged that he defer the rest to the following morning, to whom he answered, with cheerful countenance and present mind, in these words: "Come now, my sons, for in the morning it will not be allowed." Which utterance was revealed not long afterward to have had the force of ^a prediction, about to depart to the church by night, when the event corresponded to the announcement, although at the time it was not at all noticed, since no one suspected the supreme event to be impending so closely.

[34] But in the deep of night, when even those who were present for the purpose of keeping watch had given themselves to rest, gradually, lest he should disturb anyone's sleep, rising from his bed and putting on his garment, he departed to the church, which was scarcely distant from the Father's bedroom, there to surrender the breath of life where he had earlier drawn in the spirit of holy profession and religion; but when he found the doors locked with keys, he was greatly distressed and groaned, and turned aside to the nearest oratory, where, on bended knees, he composed himself by prayer for that moment which is the arbiter of eternity, and strove to meet the approaching Lord prepared; and after drawing out some time in supplication, striking the kneeling-bench to which he clung with ^a heavy blow of his hand, as if giving the signal for departure, he dies in the oratory, he consummated that irrevocable conclusion of the supreme affair, as he was prostrate on his knees and poured out in prayers (with truly excellent signs of his salvation). Aroused from sleep by that blow, the watchmen, when they discovered that the Father had left his bed and bedroom, ran to the nearby oratory, whence the noise had sounded, and found him leaning on his knees and the kneeling-bench, and already dead. By the sudden event of the unexpected occurrence, voice and sense, and almost breath, failed the stricken; but the very manner of death by which the Father died added ^a new sense of piety and exclamations of admiration. For as befitted ^a truly religious man and the head of ^a household, while others were given over to sleep, he died while praying. The next day the matter was reported to Saint Charles by Scipione Albano, who first committed the event to writing and was present at the funeral -- indeed, he presided over it and led it -- to whom the Father was both known and dear; and although he grieved exceedingly at the loss of so great ^a man, he nevertheless seemed wonderfully to congratulate the deceased on so pious ^a manner of death. Two things make this departure more admirable to me: one, that he had foreseen and predicted it; the other, that the conjecture is not slight that it was obtained by his prayers. This same Angelo is said to have written the life of Jerome in an excellent volume, which work, had it reached us, would either have relieved me of this burden of writing, or certainly would have furnished much more and greater material for writing.

CHAPTER IX

Concerning Vincenzo Gambarana.

[35] Vincenzo, after Jerome's death, spent nearly all the rest of his life placed in charge of the governance of the orphans and girls at Bergamo, Vincenzo Gambarana flourishing with such innocence of life and praise of Christian piety he is regarded as ^a saint, that the people of Bergamo looked up to him as ^a truly holy man, and many reported that he frequently brought aids to sick bodies beyond the powers and measure of nature, which testified to the man's undoubted sanctity. Such was the following incident, which I shall relate. In the church of Saint Alexander, having observed ^a certain person attending Mass with only one knee bent, he supposed this was done from the common vice of irreverence, and modestly admonished the man to bend the other knee also in honor of so great ^a sacrifice, saying that it was very unfitting for ^a Christian to attend the sacred rite in that manner: the man, throwing back his cloak and uncovering his knee, showed that this was done not from vice but from infirmity; the nerve was so injured by the force of the disease that he tried in vain to bend it. The Father, pitying the man's affliction, full of great faith, commended the sick man to God with an interior movement of his soul, and drawing his hand in the form of the Cross, a knee badly affected, he signed the infirm part, and while signing gently added: "But do not fear, brother, when you stand at the holy sacrifice, to lay down this knee also, he heals by the sign of the Cross, so that it could be bent under the Mass: even though it is injured; for this indeed is pleasing to God." And when the man wished to try whether it would work, he plainly felt that the entire disease had departed, and he afterward always recovered the proper use of that knee. Vincenzo, having returned home, sought the prayers of his entire household to give thanks to the Lord for his aid, because, as he said, the Lord had restored health to the disabled through the prayers of his pious poor: for thus, taught by his master and teacher Jerome, he had learned to refer all praise for ^a noble deed to others.

[36] He moreover rendered many aids both to the sick and to the well, of both soul and body, everywhere, by which the opinion conceived of his sanctity was wonderfully increased day by day, he dies with ^a great reputation for sanctity, until at last his death itself indicated how constant and singular ^a reputation he had enjoyed among all; for when the report of it had scarcely been spread through the city, it aroused an immense multitude of citizens, who, eager to kiss his feet or hands, cast themselves down with great devotion and tears and ^a sweet sense of piety, and very many brought forth rosaries and chaplets to touch his hands or garments. But the funeral itself, and what followed the funeral arrangements, confirmed more clearly that he had departed with an outstanding reputation for sanctity. For the funeral procession of the very poorest priest was arranged with so solemn ^a display that both the regular and secular clergy, not even solicited by his household, were present in very great numbers with torches and burning candles, [he is buried with ^a solemn procession of clergy and people, in the church of Saint Dominic,] to honor his obsequies: the bier, elegantly adorned, was eagerly borne on the shoulders of the noble, with ^a very great abundance of torches and lights accompanying; for the charity and love of the pious citizens toward the Father wished that nothing should be wanting for augmenting the spectacle of the procession as much as possible. As the funeral procession advanced, ^a most bitter complaint was heard from all, immense grief, most abundant weeping. But since there was no place for burial at home, since the private chapel served only for domestic sacrifices and the convenience of the household, the body was carried into the church of Saint Dominic of the Order of Preachers (for Vincenzo was uniquely dear to the Fathers of that monastery), and after the customary prayers of the Church had been recited, not without chant and musical harmony, it was placed in ^a special casket, separated from the rest, so that it might be more easily preserved for the veneration of posterity, with so dense ^a throng and so great ^a crowd meanwhile rushing to kiss and touch the hands or garments that there was scarcely room in the most spacious church for the burial of the body. It pleased Master Friar Paolo, then ^a Lector in the same monastery, to adorn the Father's tomb with this simple and pious epitaph; the text of which, recently obtained at Bergamo among the more ancient written records of the pious place of Saint Martin, it seemed good to set down here in the very same words. It reads as follows:

[37] "Vincenzo, of the Counts Gambarana, of Pavia, ^a priest, he is honored with an epitaph: though great in the goods of this world, having followed the poverty of Christ Jesus, in the humble society of the Fathers of Somasca, gave himself entirely to the ministry of orphans: where, excelling in every Christian virtue like ^a most brilliant star, taken from the world, he left all the pious most sorrowful. The best of men fell asleep in the Lord at Bergamo, on the twenty-seventh of June, 1561."

Some noble men and religious guardians of orphans, at their own expense, having erected ^a tomb, also performed ^a distinguished funeral.

[38] But this too should not be omitted: that many earnestly endeavored relics are preserved, to obtain for themselves something from the poor furnishings that had been in the pious man's use, to be preserved as ^a sacred pledge: but only very few could be obliged from his meager possessions. We have seen, not many years ago, at Bergamo, in the possession of Francesco Pesanti, ^a pious old man, Vincenzo's cup, which he used for drinking, enclosed in ^a leather case, still religiously guarded, who also testifies that he is aided in many things everywhere by Vincenzo's prayers. When, many months after his death, it was necessary to demolish the church of Saint Dominic, the body is found intact, so that the city might be accommodated to ^a more secure form of citadel, and the bodies of the dead be transferred elsewhere, Vincenzo's body was found intact, exhaling from the tomb ^a celestial sweetness of fragrance. And when the nuns of Saint Dominic earnestly endeavored to have the Father brought to them along with other Friars of the same order, it is sought by many, the priests of Saint Alexander opposed them; who, asserting that the place was within the boundaries of the parish, contended that the parish church should not be despoiled of its right and of that pledge by right: and after some juridical dispute, the body was adjudicated to the church of Saint Alexander by the Bishop: it is transferred to the church of Saint Alexander, and on that occasion, as if the memory of the Father were renewed, ^a great multitude of citizens was again stirred to the funeral and piety, and it was laid to rest at Saint Alexander not without ^a procession; until at last, the pledge having been recovered by the effort and zeal of the Fathers, it was brought to Somasca, thence to Somasca, and placed beside his Master Jerome.

CHAPTER X

Having Chosen New Companions, He Returns to Somasca.

[39] But let us return to Jerome, who, with the year now turning and the time for ^a more solemn assembly approaching, Jerome departs from Pavia to Milan, departed from Pavia with Angelo Marco and Vincenzo as companions: the longings and tears of many accompanied his departure. Having stayed at Milan for ^a few days, and having summoned other companions, augmented by ^a pious and noble retinue, he hastened to Somasca. Moreover, departing from Milan, he went directly to Merate (it is ^a town on Mount Brianza) for the sake of hospitality, thence to Merate, where, although many sought to join him in their hospitality, yet Francesco Albano surpassed all competitors in the zeal of his kindness and the ardor of his charity, who fulfilled the duties of Christian hospitality so abundantly that Jerome, hastening to him, received by Francesco Albano used to say to his companions: "Let us turn aside to our Abraham, since nothing more pleasing can happen to him, and he receives us with so cheerful ^a countenance and generous service." Which Christian charity of Francesco toward Jerome and the pupils of his discipline was afterward transmitted to the posterity of the Albano family as well. For, to pass over the rest, Jerome had as the herald of his praises Scipione Albano, great-nephew of Scipione the biographer: ^a nephew of that same Francesco, who, from the noble order of those whom we call Apostolic Protonotaries, having been awarded the laurel of sacred theology and being ^a Canon of the Scalense Church in Milan, venerating the pious memory of Jerome, at an already advanced age, composed his life in ^a brief but very weighty commentary, which he published, having had it printed in Milan twenty years ago.

[40] Jerome, having returned to Somasca, wonderfully cheered everyone, at Somasca he holds ^a public assembly, and he himself was in turn filled with immense joy. And when during that time the other Fathers of the first authority had also assembled there, after prayers had been poured forth to God in the customary manner, and an exhortation had been delivered by Jerome in the public assembly with that ardor of speech peculiar to him, matters pertaining to the public good were brought to common deliberation. But what was principally decided that year, we cannot even guess: so confused and mutilated an account of these things do the ancient autographs transmit to us. It is pleasing, however, to turn our eyes here again to the Somascan house itself and Jerome's household, he kindles the spirits of the younger members, which he took care to augment day by day in both number and virtue: whence he more sharply spurred on the new recruits who were already running on their own, especially Angelo Marco and Vincenzo, to follow in the footsteps of Christ, and urged them to greater things, often displaying to the veterans, for both consolation and encouragement, the extraordinary ardor and zeal for progress of the new soldiers. There were present then at Somasca, in ^a very numerous household, many distinguished no less for praise of learning than for nobility of birth, but certainly much more conspicuous by the light of Christian humility than by earthly glory, and to be looked up to for the splendor of their virtues. What ^a spectacle pleasing to the heavenly powers and delightful and full of wonder to men shall we say it was, he leads the way in the exercise of virtues, in the most corrupt times of that age, to behold ^a Venetian Patrician excelling in the sanctity of life, clad in rough and worn garments and nearly peasant-like, with ^a numerous retinue of illustrious men, not only embracing with his whole heart the commands of the divine law, but also cultivating the arduous pursuits of ancient piety, enduring the harsh discomforts of poverty, and pursuing the reproaches of the Cross of Christ with ^a greater ardor of soul than the rest of the most dissolute mortals chase after fleeting pleasures?

[41] he governs his subjects in the greatest variety of conditions Moreover, in the same household, since diverse temperaments, ranks, ages, gifts of mind, and nationalities were observed -- for the flourishing youth of some were commended by excellent gifts of nature; the mature age of many was adorned with exquisite learning, and even with the doctoral laurel; the sole probity of life of others without learning was esteemed; the white-haired and nearly final portion of life of some was to be revered for its exceptional prudence; very many were distinguished by the priesthood, others were not -- yet although they were intermixed from so great ^a variety, they lived in the greatest tranquility and most harmonious agreement, and were governed most peacefully. But why should I here pursue the exercises of works and their labors? very harmonious, whom it is well established were accustomed to toil so much in the almost daily labors of agriculture for the sake of the poor, diligent, that they plainly surpassed and exceeded the very farmers themselves in the constancy of their labors? Moreover, I could not adequately express in words, amid such great exertion of works, the daily progress of the new household, zealous for the exercise of virtues: both in every variety of virtues and in charity toward God and neighbors, and in self-contempt and abjection: for with Jerome present and urging them on, the pursuits of all virtues so fervidly increased among them day by day that in their diet and conduct ^a certain express semblance of apostolic religion seemed to shine forth.

[42] Moreover, when much was occasionally offered by way of alms, Jerome would accept very little, distributing the rest abundantly to the poor: he distributes alms to the poor: either because he did not wish abundance, or because he did not wish the labor of begging, which served for the merit and piety of his own people, to be preempted by alms spontaneously offered: and indeed the extreme scarcity of alms and the dearth and costliness of all provisions was matched by an equal power of patience in the servants of God, an ardor for suffering, and ^a desire for penance. he sends his men to various places, At that time more than sixty souls were counted in that house, and from it they were sent by Jerome, as circumstances required, either to establish new places or to assist those already begun, and the manifold variety of the harvest: from the bosom of holy contemplation and the tranquility of solitude they were ordered to go out into the open field of action, and to procure the benefits of soul and body for their neighbors.

CHAPTER XI

Having Established ^a New Domicile in the Fortress of Somasca, He Cultivates the Pursuits of Piety More Ardently.

[43] Since the name and fruit of his salutary discipline were being daily more widely propagated among many, and the reputation and fame of his probity, established by many proofs, were ever being augmented by new demonstrations of virtue; very many flocked to Somasca, Somasca at no small distance of journey, to behold with their own eyes and to taste by experience itself that spectacle of piety and workshop of Christian probity: others also, allured by the wonderful fragrance of the virtues, coming together to these, contributed themselves and all their possessions into the same society of life; so that Jerome was compelled to turn his mind to the construction of ^a new domicile: either because the passing day had doubled the number of his household, distracted by conversations of the many who came, and the household, now augmented by many members, demanded more spacious quarters; or because he perceived that the habitation was being too much frequented by the abundant concourse of many. For although with Christian piety he admitted and aided, as far as he could, those who came either to obtain prayers before God, or to consult them on divine matters, or to seek some relief for their ailing soul from the counsel and sweet conversation of the Fathers; yet the quite frequent and excessively numerous access of others was very annoying to him -- those who, either allured by the grave and pious companionship of the Fathers, frequently visited the quarters to pass the time, or, moved by ^a certain fame of sanctity, as I said, merely desired to feed their eyes and mind on the present spectacle: whose access he therefore did not greatly approve, because at nearly every hour they would so greatly disturb the quiet of prayer, so dear to himself and the others, or would impede the customary offices of charity toward others. Add to this that the Master of solid humility, although he referred the not inconsiderable fame of the Fathers' probity and integrity, spread far and wide, to the praise of God alone: yet he did not wish ^a danger of vanity to be created for himself or others by the concourse of outsiders, whose presence might be sweetly admitted, and the voices of those praising might be received with some peril of vainglory.

[44] Wherefore he said that all things must be broken off and cast aside in whose pleasure and familiarity any impediment to the way of the perfect life might reside, or any danger might be feared. Therefore, under the pretext of enlarging the quarters, he resolved to meet both inconveniences and to arrange for ^a new domicile elsewhere, and to transfer ^a good portion of the household there: concerning which matter, being solicitous, he first cast his eye upon the nearby fortress overlooking Somasca and the entire valley. This fortress is distant from Somasca by ^a mile or more, which entire distance is consumed in ^a steep and difficult ascent, so fortified by the nature and character of the place that the fortress seems not built but positively born, in the fortress of Somasca one that fulfills the requirements of any impregnable stronghold. For the sides overhanging the valley and the Adda are protected by the deepest precipices, other flanks are fortified by impassable ridges of mountains: and from there, the shots of missiles and cannonballs find most convenient range, whether into the Adda or into the villages and estates below: then in ruins, but at that time, with the entire mass of buildings destroyed and leveled to the ground, it lay open and accessible to all. Among the ruins the vestiges of ^a small chapel dedicated to Saint Ambrose were visible. he builds ^a new domicile through his men, The place seemed more suitable for the station of himself and his companions, because on the summit ^a level expanse stretched out widely, and the signs of the old building offered themselves for the construction of new quarters. Therefore, with stone cells in the fortress disposed as well as possible from cheap and rough material, and with the chapel above all restored in honor of Saint Ambrose its ancient Patron, in ^a short time the rough and unpolished work, truly by the great labors of Jerome and others, stood: and he excavates ^a cistern in the rock: since not many craftsmen or workmen were summoned, no money was expended for costs, but they themselves for the most part built the work by their own hands, cut timber from the forests with their own hands, carried it on their shoulders, hauled stones and cement, and arranged each thing with what skill they could, with Jerome alone not ineptly exercising the carpenter's, woodworker's, mason's, and whatever other trade necessity required. But when nearly all other conveniences for the benefit of the poor were at hand, the one supply of potable water was lacking, and to supply it Jerome commanded ^a cistern to be excavated in the rock beneath the very site of the chapel, of ^a very deep depth and adequate width for ^a water reservoir. It seemed, however, altogether difficult that rainwater alone, collected from such narrow buildings, could satisfy either the excavated cavity or the needs of the inhabitants. But by an event truly worthy of admiration, divine providence abundantly met the want from another source: for into that very cistern ^a sudden flow of pellucid water, and most agreeable for drinking, not indeed collected from the rainy sky but derived from hidden veins of the earth, flowed in with an unfailing supply to this very day.

[45] The building could now be seen, completed in ^a rough and cheap fashion, but illustrious with the splendor of heavenly virtues. Thither, then, having been received together with Jerome, very many of the Fathers greatly increased their pursuit of holy piety; they attended with the greatest devotion the priest daily celebrating the sacred rites in that chapel, he lives in great abstinence, they gave themselves to longer and more ardent prayers, and then they allotted their periods to psalmody and the mutual sharing of spiritual matters, using ^a very great austerity of diet above all: for at the appointed hours, summoned to the refreshment of the body by the sound of ^a tile, they mitigated their hunger with ^a cheap and rustic kind of food, and their thirst with almost cold water, content with ^a draught of water: with the harsh abstinence of Jerome shining forth above all, who had been accustomed to use for his daily sustenance scarcely anything beyond bread and water. Which so difficult ^a fast and almost incredible abstinence he scarcely ever afterward relaxed: certainly he never abandoned the drinking of water, although he confessed that he had experienced great difficulty at first, with great revulsion of nature, in accustoming his delicate stomach to that kind of drink alone: but with divine grace well assisting, by his constant will and continual practice he overcame all the resistance of ^a rebelling nature, and in the last years of his life he used only cold water for his drink.

[46] Since, moreover, he had been accustomed to regulate the pursuits of divine and human charity by ^a perpetual course of offices continually succeeding one another, so that neither the divine pursuit should render him neglectful of neighbors and especially of the poor; nor the care of these should divert him from the perpetual course of familiarity with God; he also turned his mind to transferring orphans there: so that more easily, after the holy leisure of Mary, he might betake himself to the accustomed ministries of Martha. Therefore, with one height of the fortress occupied by the domicile of the Fathers, he sought ^a more remote seat for the poor, which he shortly obtained, quite commodious for himself and them. For where the fortress extends toward the Adda, it does not run in one continuous stretch, he builds quarters for the orphans, but the rocky mass is divided as it were into two parts, and those two cliffs are separated by ^a fair interval of space. But the place was entirely uncultivated, overgrown with thickets, thorns, and underbrush; yet it seemed suitable to Jerome for the purpose, because between the projecting rocks of the huge cliffs there appeared, for the construction of ^a domicile, ^a sufficiently wide area of the interval I mentioned. And so Jerome himself was the first to set his hand to cutting down and uprooting the bushes, clearing the place, carrying out very much rubble and broken material on his own shoulders; then, with the area cleared, the ground leveled, the earth excavated, and trenches dug, foundations were laid, walls were raised, and finally ^a roof was placed upon it; so that by the same labor and industry of Jerome as before, in ^a short time ^a small house, well suited for receiving the poor, stood. With whom he mostly lived, occupied in the accustomed labors and exercises; here he healed their diseases, here he instructed them in divine matters, here he arranged for them to be taught the exercises of crafts: and whenever he betook himself to the Fathers on the summit of the fortress, he calls it the haven of his quiet and prayer: or visited those dwelling at Somasca, or surveyed the surrounding places with the instruction of catechism; he would return cheerful to that small valley of the orphans as to ^a haven of quiet and prayer: for thus they called the place, because it is enclosed in ^a lower and more depressed spot between the highest summits of the fortress: and even today it retains among the people the name of the little valley; they call it Valletta.

[47] But that matter, worthy of all admiration, must not be passed over, which both those who observed the thing with their own eyes at that time and those who received ^a certain narration from those same persons have reported: namely, that in that place Jerome had to contend above all with ^a lack of water, which was available for absolutely no use, nor was there anywhere from which it could apparently be collected or drawn. But the admirable power of divine goodness was clearly present to those in need, for by ^a new event, unprecedented in that place up to that day (so far as could be known), with water bursting forth from ^a high rock of the mountain and from the very stone, water is collected dripping from the rock: and continually dripping little by little, and collected in ^a vessel placed beneath, it sufficed abundantly for all uses of food and drink and washing. For very many years after Jerome, the domicile stood intact, until, the building collapsed with the roof first crumbling from age and constant rains, and the flooring coming apart, and the joints of the remaining walls slipping and being scattered, with no one at all repairing it, the whole thing collapsed. But in recent years, it is restored, by the singular piety and industry of Father Bartholomew Brocchi, the Prefect of the Somascan house, the place was again cleared, ^a wall was raised, and the building restored, and the former devotion began to be restored, as by ^a long return, to its ancient place.

CHAPTER XII

He Returns to Venice.

[48] Nearly the fifth year was now approaching since Jerome's departure from Venice, all of which time he had spent in Cisalpine Gaul, accomplishing many distinguished things from the common salvation of souls and the glory of God; when certain works of piety brought the occasion for his return to Venice and the sight of his homeland: which, long since begun, demanded the parent's aid to be completed. But the very time of visitation also was urging Jerome's return: he visits the domiciles he had built: for lest the plan of propagating the pious institution should grow cold anywhere in the hearts of his companions, or obstacles should retard things well begun, he had assigned ^a certain part of the year to the visitation of the places, which he always performed on foot. Since, therefore, he was now returning from the places of Lombardy, he also resolved to revisit at some time those situated in Venetian territory: for although competent and upright administrators governed those houses, yet for removing all the difficulties that might arise, his presence was of the greatest importance: indeed, even outside the time of visitation itself, if any private business arose anywhere in which he could render useful service by his presence, he would energetically betake himself there, summoned without delay. Wherefore, intending to revisit also the place more ancient than the rest, after ^a long interval of years, he set out on his way.

[49] When he arrived at Venice, with what immense joy of spirits and with how many dutiful attentions he was received -- for he was now renowned for his fame of sanctity and the glory of many works -- at Venice he is received with great joy: I can more easily convey by silence than by speech: but he himself was perhaps filled with no less delight from the inspection of that place, which, as the first fruit of his labors and the offspring of his industry, had always been most dear to his heart: in which place, having steadfastly refused the noble hospitality of all his kinsmen and friends alike, he wished, in his old custom, to be among Christ's poor, where he saw with the greatest pleasure that all things had been made better, the household especially, which he himself had left upon his departure, being much larger, augmented indeed by ^a not inconsiderable addition of both boys and workers. There, having set about reviewing everything in the customary manner, he would hold ^a conversation with each one: he demands an account from each, he wished to be informed about matters of soul and body, to be apprised of the governance of the entire household; and this individually and with others removed, so that all might have ^a freer opportunity for expressing the sentiments of their minds: what was said he received attentively and diligently; to one hesitating in speech from fear or bashfulness, the cheerfulness of his countenance and expression, and then his gentle interjection from time to time, encouraged spirits for speaking. If, moreover, there was anything that needed to be procured or arranged by his efforts, whether for the common governance of the household or for the private advantages of anyone, he would accomplish this entirely with prudence and timeliness: he cheers all: nor was there scarcely anyone approaching Jerome with ^a sad and downcast spirit who did not return from his conversation cheerful and glad, with his grief dispelled and the cloud of sadness scattered.

[50] But while he provided for all matters at home with equal prudence and diligence, he also labored abroad with no small result: very many flocked to the man, he rouses outsiders to virtue, but they departed having also carried away ^a great benefit to their souls: for he so directed abundant streams of heavenly discipline upon all that all were filled with salutary counsels and with an ardor for heavenly things. One thing among others the Venetians admired in Jerome at that time: that he so keenly grieved over the wretched lot of dissolute men with so bitter ^a feeling of soul; that he could take no rest, enjoy no comfort, until he had roused those who were lulled in the deadly sleep of the soul and ^a long lethargy of sins, and, having applied ^a remedy to the fatal guilt, he draws others away from sins: had brought them, drawn away from ingrained vices, over to health: and this he effected with such ardor of soul and with such ^a paternal feeling of kindness and charity toward the most dissolute, that this one thing was ^a matter of the greatest admiration to all, as they then truly saw with their own eyes what Saint Gregory used to say: "He who possesses compassion from true justice." With what great success, with what great profit of souls, he labored in this work, it is tedious to relate here at greater length, since it is easy to reach ^a conjecture, if only we have known Jerome sufficiently thus far.

[51] As the year was waning he departed, and two things especially rendered the man's departure illustrious and famous; he departs to the great sorrow of others, one, the prophecy of his approaching death, the other, the common weeping of all and their immense grief: for to that close friend of his, whom we mentioned above and who later became the writer of his Life, and to others, as he was now taking his leave, he openly signified that his departure from this life would follow not long after this departure from Venice: that they should therefore bid him farewell as men who would never again see Jerome in this life. Book 2, ch. 5 Nor did the announcement fall vain: he predicts his approaching death, for scarcely ^a year had elapsed when Jerome died at Somasca. Moreover, so great was the weeping of all that accompanied his departure that they seemed to mourn one dying rather than departing, and we may rightly borrow that passage here: "And there was great weeping among all: sorrowing most of all at his word that he had spoken, that they should see his face no more: and they accompanied him to the ship." Acts 20

CHAPTER XIII

Returning from Venice, He Gives Wonderful Proofs of Abstinence on the Journey.

[52] The things which we defer to the present and the following chapter, I know are recounted by others as having been done by Jerome when he first departed from Venice, six years before this. But the chronological order and the truth of the history were undoubtedly seriously disturbed, as those things show which Father Evangelista Aurato, once our Superior General, truly ^a man of holy memory, committed to writing as received from Stefano Bertazzolo, ^a priest of Salo, who along with many others was at this time Jerome's companion on the journey and an observer of the deeds then performed. When this man was questioned at some point by Father Evangelista at Salo about Jerome's affairs, he, as an eyewitness, deposed before him these things which we shall relate, and many more, with Father Aurato taking down each item in writing, which document, written in his own hand, is still preserved among us, so that absolutely no suspicion of falsehood can reside in the minds of those to whom the outstanding integrity of so great ^a Father is known, and the commended probity of character of Stefano, ^a most excellent priest. The matter therefore was as follows. He passes through Verona, As he was departing from Verona to Salo and had scarcely reached the Martinengo fields, he fell in with ^a truly noble company; divine providence, that is, providing witnesses for illustrious examples of virtue. For Stefano Bertazzolo, ^a priest of Salo, and Bartolomeo and Giovanni Battista Scaini, brothers, had come from Salo to Verona shortly before, in order to pay ^a courtesy call upon their old friend Giovanni Pietro Carafa, who was then staying with Matteo Giberti, the Bishop of Verona, and was about to depart for Rome immediately, and to transact some business with him; which mutual office of kindness having been discharged, they were returning to their homeland of Salo. Having thus chanced upon these companions, Jerome was following the horsemen on foot. But they, since they were also leading spare horses, ordered one to be brought to Jerome, he refuses the horse offered, and earnestly asked him to mount: but he, having given thanks and praised the humanity of his companions, was unwilling to make use of that favor: and when he was urged more ardently by their entreaties, he could not be induced to consent.

[53] When they reached Peschiera, ^a town of the Cenomani, conspicuous for its construction, fortifications, and pleasantness, at the source of the Mincio between the two most noble cities of Mantua and Verona, at Peschiera, they stopped for some time, either allured by the pleasantness of the place or compelled by the fatigue of the journey, and having given rest to their bodies, they ordered the table to be set, which was quite sumptuously furnished with the more costly fish brought from the nearby lake Benaco: for Peschiera is joined to the Benaco to the north by the Mincio, to the south by the mainland, having left aside the more sumptuous foods, and to the west, while ^a most noble fortress faces the east. The others ate the more sumptuous foods, quite indulging nature and appetite, but Jerome, at the same table, content with bread and water alone, he dines moderately on bread and water: could not be prevailed upon by any courtesies of the dinner companions, by any enticements of food or appetite, to admit anything else for eating. When at last Stefano jokingly threw at him the saying so worn by common use -- "All repletion is bad, but that of bread is worst" -- Jerome, smiling, replied that the saying was indeed true for those who filled themselves with that food more than was proper. Which was certainly far from him, who would not relax in the slightest anything from the strict laws of temperance even in common bread. After dinner, resuming their journey, they reached Salo: he comes to Salo, Jerome, being invited, lodged with Bartolomeo.

CHAPTER XIV

His Deeds at Salo and Brescia.

[54] He stayed at Salo no more than three days, but not without great fruit for souls and the example of illustrious virtues, from which I shall relate two more remarkable events that are reported to have occurred there. The following day the rest of the companions of the preceding day's journey had gathered at Bartolomeo Scaini's house, having been invited to dinner: he, in order to receive his new guests more graciously, had prepared ^a rather copious and sumptuous table. And when they had already reclined and had barely tasted the first courses, and then more sumptuous dishes were being brought in; Jerome was so moved that, bursting into tears, with sighs drawn from the depths of his breast, he began to reproach himself most gravely Presented with ^a more sumptuous table he weeps, and to accuse himself gravely concerning the sumptuousness of the present table; and this with such ^a sense of grief and ardor of words that he drew forth also the tears of the others in abundance, who, vehemently moved by Jerome's temperance, themselves also rejecting the dainties, could neither conceal the inward feeling of their soul nor restrain the tears bursting forth. The matter was certainly as admirable as it was unusual. For Jerome, although most sparing in his diet and most devoted to abstinence, nevertheless sometimes, following the example of Christ, did not scorn the banquets of the noble and powerful: so that through that occasion, when others were lacking, he might open ^a path for himself to instill something of his spirit and virtue in them, and, showing himself courteous and agreeable to all, might win all for Christ. And before, indeed, when dining with others, he had been accustomed to use the foods set before him, in accordance with the same doctrine of Christ: so that it was very surprising that on that day at Scaini's he could not restrain himself from tears; indeed that he seemed to himself to have so gravely sinned against the laws of abstinence that, removing the dishes, he punished the sumptuousness of the hospitable table by ^a three-day fast content with bread and water for three days: of bread and water. That affair provided ^a welcome and salutary spectacle to all who admired Jerome's abstinence and devotion.

[55] But meanwhile, he who could not be captured by the blandishments of food and appetite was almost too much captivated by the pleasantness and charm of the place; for to one most desirous of solitude, the pleasant charm both of the homeland of Salo he is delighted by Lake Benaco, and of the Benacene shore was exceedingly appealing, which I think will not be unpleasing to the reader if it is described. The Benaco is ^a famous lake throughout all Italy, whose length extends thirty miles from the southwest to the north, its width being considerably less. It does not dwell celibate, pleasant on account of the rivers flowing into it, having been deemed worthy of marriage with the rivers Sarca and Ponale; from the north it drinks the Sarca, from the northeast the Ponale: the latter is sent down from the valley of Ledro through pathless and steep mountains into the lake; the former, arising from Mount Nambino, with the perpetual and sonorous stream of ^a river, cuts and irrigates the valley of Rendena below, until it is discharged into the Benaco. Nor is the marriage barren, for where the Benaco inclines toward the south and washes Peschiera, it pours forth from itself the most noble offspring, the river Mincio, in ^a very wide torrent, with Peschiera itself in its bosom performing the office of midwife to the Benaco giving birth. Moreover, it is quite remarkable how many and how great torrents surround it on either side, which, as if kindly assuming the duties of ^a nurse to nourish the still small offspring and the new progeny for its growth, continually pour forth new waters from ^a rich vein, as from ever-swelling nipples and breasts. The Cassano flows from Mount Baldo with such an abundance of waters that it has earned the name of ^a river among some, and nearly equal torrents are counted on the same side, which near the people of Brenzone and Malcesine rush from the mountains in ^a perennial flow of waters: nor are Barbarano, Bornico, Brasa, and the rest of inferior note on the other side, which, intersecting the mountains in ^a precipitous course and sinuous bends, flow into the lake. The Benaco is said to be of the deepest depth in the middle: the rest of the water appears so transparent that in the bottom of the bed the smallest things can be seen quite pellucidly and distinctly. But as it is crossed by an easy and pleasant navigation when agitated by no wind; so it is violent and threatening when it begins to be disturbed even by ^a slight tempest. Pliny, Book 32, ch. 11 It is most fertile in the finest fish, among which the carp, called carpioni, are by common consent considered the princes: abounding in carpioni; the most exquisite delicacy of distinguished banquets, and these are drawn out only from the deep recesses of the waters, with no less labor than danger for the fishermen, when the lake, stirred by ^a sudden and unexpected tempest, rises and swells with ^a terrible and raging wave. It pleases me here to transcribe what ^a not undistinguished poet has sung about the fishing of carpioni:

"Nor is the carpion easy of capture, Giodoco Bergano, in Benacus, Book 4 no bait, no grain need you prepare: it is drawn out only by nets. Let nets be your care, let these be stretched out to twice ^a hundred ells."

And again, not long after, he adds the same:

"For the carpion often wanders through twice ^a hundred paces (into hidden lairs)."

Nor are the things dissimilar that he repeats in the same vein in the same book:

"Not indeed are all places of the lake suited to your wishes, my son, since the carpion always scorns moderate shallows and enters the high stables of the hidden deep. Therefore, leaving the shallows, seek the deep."

[56] But enough of this. Let us inspect the banks of the Benaco, on which, on either side, most pleasant places and the most cultivated olive groves are beheld, and banks planted with trees, among which gardens are interspersed everywhere, planted with fragrant trees -- citrons, medlars, oranges, limes, and others yielding fragrance and scent, and all these trees are propagated and grow there with happy production: joined with fountains, nor are murmuring streams and the roaring perennial flows of most frigid springs lacking: for it is said that the name was thereby given to Frigello, the coldest spring. In the lake itself, toward the south, separated from the land by ^a short stretch and ^a pile bridge, is Sirmione, ^a village famous both for the birthplace and the poems of Catullus, that most elegant poet: nothing is more pleasant than its situation, and with various villages and towns, and nothing more convenient for gazing out far and wide upon the vast expanses of the lake and the rising mountains: where most noble vestiges of marvelous antiquity are seen -- aqueducts, and caverns of the most spacious vaulted and arched construction. The Benacene shore is indeed inhabited by not infrequent towns and villages; for although the most rugged mountains rise to the north, which surround the lake on almost every side, yet their lower hills and the entire circumference of their bases are densely inhabited through towns and villages; for at that part, with the course of navigation turned, in view are Maderno, Toscolano, Fasano, Gardone, Portese, Bogliaco, Gargnano, Limone. And perhaps no more illustrious crown of the Benaco exists than that noble series and prospect of villages. The shore that faces the Veronese territory is girded by Lazise, Bardolino, Garda, Brenzone, Malcesine, not undistinguished villages. On the Brescian side lie Rivoltella, Desenzano, Moniga, Manerba, Feliciano. Nor should the humbler village of Nago be passed over in silence, from which most think the name was given to the Benaco, on the side where it directly faces Mount Baldo; between the hills and mountains it extends for ^a mile and more, and spreads out widely. To one entering the bay, on the right side, Salo presents itself in an excellent and most pleasant, though narrow, situation: especially Salo, artfully built: for on one side it is washed by the very deep lake, and on the other it is hemmed in by the bases of the mountains, extending nearly to the shore of the lake, so that it does not spread out very widely everywhere. For the rest, where it adjoins the mountains and where it is bounded by the lake, it unfolds in an oblong shape and provides its inhabitants with ^a noble and sufficiently ample habitation. That part which overlooks the Benaco rises with multiple stories to afford ^a free view of the water and the mountains, adorned with elegant balconies, painting, or whitewash, so as not unpleasantly to greet the eyes of those approaching. For the Venetian Magistrate, ^a spacious and illustrious courthouse stands in the most celebrated part of the town, with pergolas, balconies, and convenient walks added for the view, which the governor might traverse for recreation. The town is said to be inhabited by eight thousand souls and more, of ^a truly civil and very respectable class of people, and altogether noble for the glory of learning and talent among other things: and among the other towns of the Benacene shore it is rightly the chief of that homeland.

[57] Jerome, therefore (to return briefly to him after my digression), having diligently contemplated the nature of the place, intending to choose ^a dwelling there, immediately allured by the pleasantness of the solitude, felt himself being most eagerly drawn into the forests and the leisure of holy solitude, and judged it most suitable for procuring some remote retreat for himself; since the mountains would keep away the frequent access of men, while the places below were most convenient both for collecting alms and for sowing the seeds of divine wisdom, and for aiding neighbors from time to time. And so he deliberated on exchanging the labors of the active life for solitary quiet, and its dangers and hardships, which he had long experienced, for the security and joy of the latter: and now, feeling himself near the final goal of his labors, as he presaged in his spirit, he resolved absolutely to devote himself more ardently than usual to contemplation and more intensely to solitude: and not to leave thence for his companions, either to visit or assist them, except when summoned, as circumstances demanded, and quite rarely. Therefore, having enlisted his companions and friends, ^a safe retreat for contemplation was sought through those days; but with God assuredly determining otherwise, nothing ever occurred that satisfied Jerome. he is impeded in prayer: On the third day, weighing the difficult outcome of the matter more diligently with the Lord in prayer, he was immediately admonished by an interior light that the plan was less pleasing to God.

[58] Wherefore, having detected the deception of ^a flattering sense and the appetite of his own will and private advantage, he departs to Brescia, on the very next day, as if about to correct an erring sense, he departed from Salo to the Cenomani of Brescia. But the pious memory of Jerome always clung so closely to the hearts of those friends; that they lived perpetually most devoted to him. The Scaini certainly never omitted any office of kindness and goodwill toward Jerome and his pupils: of which thing Jerome's familiar letters written to them, which are still read among us, give full assurance. Bertazzolo, moreover, was so drawn to piety even by his brief acquaintance and association with Jerome, with Bertazzolo drawn to piety: that he left examples of exceedingly outstanding probity and of ^a most upright priest: for he voluntarily resigned ^a rich benefice (said to have been worth two thousand gold pieces), being content with his paternal inheritance: in the greater church of Salo he gave assiduous service to penitents: there also daily, not without ^a great sense of piety and tears, he celebrated the Liturgy, and, after many had been purified through Confession, he administered the sacred communion: in short, he passed his entire life, to extreme old age, in assiduous offices of piety and labors of charity. Moreover, Jerome was summoned to Brescia at that time also by the common assembly of the companions, an assembly having been held at Brescia, which that year was held on the fourth of June at that place, when sixteen had gathered there, either prefects of the households or other Fathers of the first rank, as the ancient autographs annotated by Jerome's own hand attest. He returns to Somasca. After these matters at Salo and Brescia had been completed, he hastened to Somasca.

CHAPTER XV

Kindled by ^a Desire for More Remote Solitude, He Establishes ^a New Seat for Himself in the Fortress.

[59] Restored to his Somascan solitude and, as it were, to himself, and for the time being free from the tumult of external cares, he turned in his accustomed manner to examining more diligently the course of his life and to thoroughly scrutinizing himself. He is troubled by scruples, But as he diligently devoted himself to this holy inquiry, this one scruple was implanted in him like ^a sting, by which he began to be vehemently troubled and distressed, namely that for so many years, while following in the footsteps of Christ, he nevertheless seemed to have applied his mind too remissly and coldly to His heavenly discipline. Which one thought, on account of having more remissly attended to the worship of God: since it kept the man's soul -- most eager for obtaining salvation and for augmenting the divine glory -- anxiously agitated day and night in the most vehement manner, he began to think also of greater progress in the spiritual life and ^a more severe pursuit of penance: for in the way of God, though he was an example and wonder alike to the rest, he was nevertheless never satisfied with himself alone. But amid these movements of his soul, he longs for solitude: the spark of solitude kindled at Salo revived with ^a more than usual vehemence and erupted in ^a more ardent flame; so that Jerome was inflamed at every hour with the whole eagerness of his mind toward the very solitude of the hermitage as toward ^a Paradise, and was carried along by ^a truly restless motion of his soul; in which, that is, he might devote himself more freely to the contemplation of heavenly things, and, entirely estranged from all other things and free from interruptions, might cleave to his Christ alone. For he found it exceedingly salutary for collecting his mind, distracted by the instruction and company of neighbors, to avoid the company of others for some period of time. And so for several days ^a still more remote retreat for penance and contemplation was most diligently sought, but nothing presented itself for the purpose.

[60] Now in the fortress itself, on the side where it faces Somasca and the valley with its entire front, in ^a deep hiding-place ^a deep cavern appears, but in ^a situation so precipitous and rugged that in human judgment the place seemed inaccessible: having seen it from ^a distance and thinking it suitable for himself, he resolved to survey it also at closer range; but no approaches, no paths to the cavern appeared -- everything was bristling with thickets, blocked by dense brambles, and so encumbered by the precipitous terrain that the undergrowth had to be cut down with iron and muscle, and branches and bushes had to be grasped on either side by hand for making progress. Therefore, having most fiercely struggled against every difficulty, he at last crept there and arrived, and having attentively contemplated the place, he chose that spot as the seat of his solitude and most remote retreat, he builds ^a cell by himself, and resolved to construct ^a cell and oratory and to complete the entire work with his own hands: and without delay, he set about completing in deed what he had proposed in mind. The thing itself would altogether seem to exceed belief, if the nature of the place were known to anyone, that to ^a place where without any burden ^a very strong man could scarcely crawl, Jerome nevertheless made his way well laden. In such great harshness of life, weariness from labors, and physical conflict, his strength had already nearly collapsed, and that vigorous robustness of his firm constitution had utterly languished, but with heavenly power overcoming the weakness of nature, his firm and upright spirit did not fear to subject his body, worn out by fasting, carrying material on his shoulders: to the burdens of stones, timbers, sand, and other things; he conveyed the material on his own shoulders, fitted it with his own hands, and indeed with sand transported from the very bank of the Adda to that summit. There were some among the people of Somasca who, observing the man laden and engaged in so difficult ^a work, freely offered themselves for carrying materials and completing the work, to whom he, having courteously given thanks, answered thus: "Since in heaven only the reward of merit corresponds to one who labors on earth, to take away my labor is the same as to diminish the heavenly reward; which he would by no means wish to be done."

[61] The work at last completed wonderfully cheered Jerome, joyfully he enjoys the solitary place, since nothing more convenient for the leisure of holy solitude, or more pleasant to behold, could be desired. For by its difficult and nearly impassable approach, the solitude, removed from the company of men, repelled the unwelcome interrupters of heavenly contemplation; moreover, situated in an elevated and open place, it so presented to observers the stretch of the valley below, and the windings and sinuous excursions of all the places, and the intervals between villages, and then the broad expanses of the Adda spreading itself out into ^a lake, that the sight of the eyes, however much fatigued, was most greatly refreshed by so varied and elegant ^a view of things. So hidden ^a retreat gave the name of Hermitage to the place even to this day. From the area of the orphans' little house he had dug out and opened ^a path for himself to his hermitage: for it was not very far distant from that domicile; to which, freed from other cares, he would rush with such eagerness and speed that you might have said he was hurrying to his Elysian fields; where, freed from human cares, he would lie concealed with greater delight, so far as was permitted, than if he had enclosed all the pleasures of the entire world within that narrow hole in the earth with himself. Moreover, in that retreat the pursuit of holy contemplation and penance was greatly augmented: there to snatch briefer than before sleeps in harsh winter and under ^a freezing sky, from the bare ground, to chastise the body with stricter fasting, much given to penances, to wash away the stains of his former life and the blemishes of his soul with ^a perennial fountain of tears flowing, to amend the sins committed against God with worthy fruits of penance by harsher flogging: yet intent on the meditation of heavenly and eternal things, he would so rest in their sweetness and be lulled in the sweet slumber of divine contemplation that he seemed already to be present at the delights of Paradise and to fill himself, as much as possible, with God Himself.

[62] This assiduous zeal for prayer and ^a closer than before intimacy with God then most especially revealed itself, assiduous in prayer, when from that shadowy retreat of solitude he would fly forth into the sun and dust to help and instruct the rest in his appointed time. For how full of God, how enriched with heavenly gifts, would he emerge from that dark hiding-place of the mountain? If companions were to be inflamed to the love of God or to other things by exhortation, with great ardor he excites others: he accomplished this with such an ardor of piety that with that spiritual fire, which blazed in the breast of the speaker, nearly all were set ablaze, and by that burning voice even the coldest listener would be kindled, and he could say to the Lord from experience: "Thy word is exceedingly refined by fire": for Jerome abundantly poured forth what, with the divine Spirit offering it, he had drunk in the holy quiet, and being wholly fervent with divine love, he easily kindled others. If, moreover, there were any ministries of charity to be performed, Jerome claimed and carried them out for himself with such ^a new and unusual fervor, with such an indication of extraordinary care and virtue, that to his former virtues (which others had previously admired as absolute in every respect) there appeared, by this continual school of solitude and zealous prayer and ardent meditation on divine things, such an addition, as if his former life had been ^a kind of apprenticeship and elementary training: thus did he return from his continual communion with God, daily more enriched with heavenly power and greater than himself.

[63] he senses that death will soon be at hand, However, the quiet deferred to the last months of his declining life did not long permit Jerome to enjoy the leisure of solitude; for not long afterward it was understood, both from his prediction and from the sudden occurrence of events, that Jerome had procured for himself that remote solitude of the hermitage not so much as ^a procurer of holy pleasure but as the preparation for his approaching death, and not so much ^a seat of his rest and tranquility as ^a school for his imminent final departure: in which, that is, he might prepare the last act of this human drama, which he perceived by ^a certain hidden power of presentiment was now approaching, and might first settle his affairs alone with God alone. Moreover, how certainly he foresaw his approaching death, among other proofs, this is evidence: that when during those days he had received letters from Giovanni Pietro Carafa, now ^a Cardinal, to whom, as I said before, he had committed himself entirely, in which he was most kindly invited to Rome, so that in that City and other cities of the Pontifical dominion he might carry out the same offices of charity, invited by Cardinal Carafa to Rome, and by his example might rouse many to the same piety (for no domicile for orphans had yet been established at Rome, none for girls), he one day, after the common prayer had been completed with the others, reported to them concerning Cardinal Carafa's wish in such ^a way as to say that at the same time he was being summoned to entirely different places by two: to Rome indeed by Carafa, but by the Lord to heaven; then he added, "but the heavenly journey, he prefers the heavenly journey, without doubt, will soon be preferred to the Roman one": which, said by him not without ^a certain presentiment of the future event, the event itself confirmed not long afterward. Moreover, devotion and reverence always remained afterward in the place of the solitude and hermitage; and even now, though largely in ruins, it still seems to breathe ^a certain piety and sanctity.

CHAPTER XVI

His Illness and Death.

[64] The event was not slow to follow upon Jerome's prediction of his own death; for having been seized by ^a most grievous disease, one at that time epidemic, he died not long afterward. Moreover, not doubtful signs preceded the approaching end of his life; for passing over in the present his frequent and open predictions, certainly by that harsher manner of life most recently undertaken, and by the more than usual increased rigor of penance, everyone understood that ^a more urgent movement in the course of virtue was not far from the finish. Then indeed the wretched calamity of those times with heresy growing strong, above all tormented the man's soul, because he saw the Catholic Religion, agitated by the plague of new doctrines and the seditions of the wicked, laboring grievously in the very defense of the faith, which is the foundation of the entire Christian religion. weary of ^a longer life, Wherefore, exceedingly weary of the afflicted condition of that age, and of the inconstancy and vanity of human affairs, with earth now becoming contemptible, raised to the things above, he began to turn away from all transitory things, to shun the common light, he aspires to Christ: to avoid the company of men, to breathe only heavenly things amid prayers and vows, to seek God alone amid groans and sighs, and with plainly the same spirit as Paul, to desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ. Phil. 1:23 Nor did the divine goodness long defer the prayers of its faithful servant, sufficiently wearied by the contests of temptations and the labors of penance, but by ^a truly happy manner of death, as if complying with ^a veteran soldier, so that the end should correspond to the beginning, it furnished him, from that charity toward neighbors in which he had most burned throughout his entire life, with the cause of ^a glorious death, so that he might imitate Christ dying for the human race also in his final end.

[65] For when ^a horrible plague of the groin was hideously depopulating the territory of Bergamo far and wide, seized by the plague, Jerome, who abstained from no services to the sick and the wretchedly prostrate, easily fell into the pestilential disease. The kind of disease was entirely unknown to the physicians, whose force and persistence eluded all their effort and industry, and on that very day on which they are accustomed to pronounce judgment on the illness (which they therefore call critical), the disease pronounced sentence on the patient's death; wherefore all were consumed by the raging pestilence on the fourth or at most the seventh day. Seized therefore bitterly by that disease, he most certainly foresaw that he would soon die, which was his supreme wish: and as the nearness of the end augmented his desire, he did not delay in preparing himself entirely for it according to Christian piety; and as the disease intensified, since there was scarcely anyone in that place to apply ^a medical hand, having now cast aside all hope of life, he turned to imploring divine aid; he is fortified with the last Sacraments: he summoned ^a priest to minister the Sacrament of Penance and to serve as the director of his conscience, and with ^a confession full of sorrow and full of piety, having most carefully expiated his sins, he requested the most sacred Body of Christ the Lord under the name of Viaticum, and such Sacraments as are customary (the final consolations of the dying soul), as if about to migrate not long thereafter to those heavenly shores, with great humility and lowliness of soul, and he received them with even greater. Thus fortified with the Lord's Sacraments, he awaited the final hour.

[66] The pestilential disease had attacked Emiliani on the fourth of February, the very day of Sexagesima Sunday, with which he struggled fiercely for three whole days; on the fourth day, with the languor vehemently increasing and his strength entirely failing, he understood that death was now imminent: on his deathbed he exhorts those standing by: at whose approach he was not only not terrified, but he also exhorted those standing by, who had burst into tears, with ^a brief and truly heavenly address, his breath nearly failing: that they should follow entirely in the footsteps of our crucified Savior, despise all earthly things, take up the most scrupulous care of abandoned orphans, and all should live bound to one another by the inviolable bond of mutual love: and above all they should burn with charity toward God, by whose benefit the soul, joined to its Creator in an indissoluble bond, is torn as far as possible from all earthly things. He himself hoped (such is God's mercy) that he would be of more benefit to them in the future life than in the present. Thus comforted and instructed, he dismissed them, as voice and life alike were failing him. Then with his hands, eyes, and entire bodily bearing raised to heaven with innate piety, repeatedly invoking the most holy names of Jesus and Mary, in possession of his faculties to the last, gently closing his eyes, with ^a quiet and tranquil countenance, amid the choirs of those chanting psalms and weeping, with midnight already past, Emiliani gave back his spirit to God who was reclaiming it. He dies amid holy prayers on February 8, His departure is to be noted on the eighth of February, the same day on which the holy Emilianus also in Armenia Minor was distinguished by ^a glorious martyrdom. He departed this life in the year one thousand five hundred and thirty-seven of human salvation; in the year 1537, aged 56, in the fifty-sixth year of his age now waning, the twenty-fifth from his conversion to God, the sixth already elapsed from his first departure from Venice, and the twelfth from his laying aside of the toga and the adoption of ^a new and rough habit, and the institution of ^a harsher and holier life. That which we say about the month and day of his death, I am not unaware that it greatly contradicts the opinion of others and the view received up to this point; but certainly the proofs of the truth set forth by us, even clearer than the noonday light, we shall present, if they are desired, in the first chapter of the following book. He died at Somasca in the house of the Ondei, and in that solitude which during his lifetime he cherished above other places with wonderful affection: nor is it to be doubted that Jerome looks down upon that place from heaven with ^a certain special love, which in life he so greatly loved. He is buried in the church of Saint Bartholomew: He was committed to burial in the church of Saint Bartholomew in the same place, ^a man most illustrious both for the examples of all virtues and for his outstanding charity toward God and neighbors, and truly exceptional and singular in his contempt of earthly things and of himself.

BOOK FOUR

CHAPTER I

The Probity of Jerome Is Commended by the Testimony of Many.

[1] That firm and constant reputation for the most perfect probity and indeed sanctity, with which Jerome had flourished among all even while still among the living, [The sanctity of Jerome's life is confirmed by Guillhermius, the Vicar of the Bishop of Bergamo,] his ensuing death vehemently confirmed and augmented: which very many wished to be attested not merely in words but also in writings. From the many I shall select ^a few. Giovanni Battista Guillhermius, Doctor of both Laws and Canon of the Church of Feltre, was serving the Bishop of Bergamo in the capacity of Vicar during Jerome's lifetime. He had frequently been ^a spectator and admirer of his virtues: therefore, upon receiving the sad news of his death, he writes thus about him to ^a friend: I shall report part of his letter, faithfully rendered into Latin.

[2] "I do not doubt that you have received by most certain messengers the news of the death of Jerome Emiliani, that most valiant commander in the Christian warfare, by this letter sent soon after his death, and of two of his companions of this prefecture, who departed this life. If I should attempt to describe the course of the disease and the event of death, I fear that, stricken by piety and the intimate grief of the heart, you might be too greatly moved. However, he had devoured in his soul the lot of divine happiness with certain hope (so great was his confidence in Christ); so that he seemed to touch the very hinges of heaven with his hands: with frequent exhortations he would often address his men, with ^a cheerful and serene brow and ^a smiling aspect of countenance, so as to kindle each one with the sweetest charity of Christ. He foresaw the certain day of his death with such presentiment that nothing was less in doubt to him concerning his approaching death than it is to me that I am at this moment writing these letters to you. He kept saying that he had balanced his accounts and entered into ^a pact with Christ the Lord. No mention of his homeland of Venice, no talk of his relatives, only the most frequent discourse on the imitation of Christ. At the approach of the solemn Nativity of our Savior, he had departed hence, but first he came to me, prostrate at my feet he commended the faith of Christ, humbly sought pardon for his faults, then departed with such ^a farewell as if I were never (as it turned out) to see him again. He flew to his heavenly homeland at Somasca, where very many Fathers of proven life from Pavia, Como, and Bergamo reside. Today in more than one church prayers have been offered for his holy soul: on Wednesday the funeral ceremonies will again be celebrated. You would have said that the Supreme Pontiff or our Bishop had departed from the living. He had arrived at such ^a point of abstinence of life and mortification of the body that you could not have wished for greater progress. Come, it has so pleased the divine Majesty: no death has ever seemed more bitter to me until now. This unfortunate flock of good men feels the bitter bereavement of its governors: yet I do not distrust the divine goodness, that it will not perform the familiar works of infinite omnipotence. I beg you to excuse the length of the letter: for this is the second day from the last of the Carnival, on which I so amuse myself with you by this writing, and these things are from the narration of our M. Marius. I pray God to be propitious to the deceased: he died, moreover, on the seventh day of this month."

[3] And thus far the Vicar's letter, from which I wish two things especially to be noted: one indeed, what an ample and illustrious testimony to Jerome's probity so great ^a man has given: confirming that he died the other, what was the certain month and day of his death. For since in the Vicar's letter no name of the month is appended, but it is established that the letter was written on the last Carnival days -- for he openly names the day nearest to the last of the Carnival, not in the month of March, on which he wrote the letter -- many went to the opinion that the month was March: and this was believed so certainly that on the Nones of March, dedicated to Saint Thomas Aquinas, the pious memory of Jerome was observed by most. But so great ^a series of years intervening since his death could easily have deceived anyone. The investigation of the truth, however, is not difficult: for since it is most certainly established that in that thirty-seventh year in which Jerome died, the Carnival was celebrated in the month of February, but in February, and the day of Ashes was celebrated on the fourteenth of February, and consequently the letter was written two days before, on the twelfth of February, it is altogether certain that Jerome's death can in no way be assigned to the month of March. In which matter all suspicion of doubt will be entirely uprooted if one consults those ancient temporary tables of movable feasts, as they are called, published before the eighty-second year of the past century -- that is, before the correction of the Calendar was promulgated -- and individually searches out the Epacts, Golden Numbers, and Dominical Letters of the preceding years, and duly runs through and reruns the tables of past years until he reaches the thirty-seventh year: for by ^a diligent and accurate computation of the times, he will plainly discover that the Epact of that thirty-seventh year was XVIII, the Golden Number likewise XVIII, the Dominical Letter G: from which it is entirely clear and undoubted that that solemn Ash Wednesday fell on precisely the day I mentioned, and that Jerome died in the month of February, and that funeral rites were paid to him in the Church of Bergamo in that month. But if he died on the Nones of March, the Bergamasques would certainly have anticipated the man's death with ^a funeral procession by many days. Since the Vicar asserts that he died on the seventh of February, on the 7th, others say the 8th, while we say the sixth, this should be understood as we previously indicated: namely that he expired at about the third watch of the night, and therefore his death should better be noted as the eighth of February. I also add this: where it reads in the Vicar's letter that the remaining rites were to be performed on Wednesday, I suspect there is an error: for the Wednesday that next followed was the solemn ceremony of Ashes, on which day it does not seem likely to me that funeral rites were performed for Jerome anywhere, but perhaps one should read Tuesday, that is, the following day, which was the last day of the Carnival celebrations. But let us now proceed to the rest.

[4] Bartolomeo Spatafora, ^a not undistinguished orator of his time, Spatafora in ^a published oration, in that oration which he delivered at the death of Marco Antonio Trevisan, Doge of Venice, after having mentioned very many persons conspicuous for their fame of sanctity who had arisen among the Venetians, at last adds these words about Jerome, which I shall faithfully render into Latin: "That most ardent vessel of charity, Jerome Emiliani, who, in order to provide not only for the salvation of the living but also for the corpses of the dead, was not at all sparing of his own life, whose memory is not only fresh, but whose vestiges are fresh, whose monument is fresh." Moreover, Spatafora's oration may be read among the orations of illustrious men, part two, which are circulated written in the Italian language.

[5] But especially brilliant is the testimony that Bartolomeo Pellegrino renders to Jerome's charity in that book which he entitled The Vineyard of Bergamo. Pellegrino in ^a published book, In Part II, Chapter 114, in the very words which I shall quote, he writes about Jerome those things which he himself had observed with his own eyes; for he says: "In this Vineyard there also labored the Lord Jerome Miani, ^a Venetian Patrician and true servant of Christ, when in the year of the Lord 1532 he came to Bergamo, and by his most Christian examples and exhortations, and by his assiduous solicitude and care, he gathered many women released from the chains of the devil, that they might live together justly and chastely: he also committed the multitude of vagrant boys and orphans to be governed in the hospital of Saint Mary Magdalene." These things from eyewitness testimony. Again the same Bartolomeo, in Chapter 118, about Domenico Tasso, whose services Jerome especially used, as we said, adds this: "Moreover the same magnificent Lord Domenico had ^a cistern with river water from ^a nearby stream built in that very monastery, and was an aid to the Lord Jerome Miani, ^a Venetian Patrician, in collecting and uniting the prostitutes converted from sin to the norm of Christ: and also the boys and girls begging in our city." Thus he writes.

[6] Nor indeed shall I pass over the letter of the Reverend Friar Girolamo Malfetta, ^a most celebrated preacher of his time from the sacred Capuchin order, Malfetta the Capuchin in the dedicatory letter of ^a book, which he prefixed to the little work on Divine Love, composed by the Reverend Father Friar Bartolomeo of the same order, when he first arranged for that book to be printed, and inscribed it to the Fathers and Brothers, servants of the poor, and to their orphan boys in the works of Lombardy: in which letter he relates many things about Jerome and his works from eyewitness testimony, which it is well worth the pious reader's while to know. I shall therefore set down ^a good part of the letter, faithfully and elegantly rendered into Latin. "Since, then," he says, "these reasons had entirely persuaded me to publish the booklet, and I had begun to think silently about to whom I should dedicate so pious ^a little gift, the remembrance of your charity, I believe not without divine inspiration, came to mind, dedicated to his subjects, to which I thought this kind of subject would be most fitting. For you, like burning lamps, pour forth the rays of divine love, with the offices of virtues in harmony; instructed indeed and spurred to all works of piety by the examples and precepts of that blessed soul, Jerome Emiliani, ^a Venetian Patrician: on account of his virtues who strove with the utmost zeal to rouse and draw all men of every rank to God: which he demonstrated most especially at that time by the most manifest signs, when, vehemently inflamed by the zeal of divine charity and the Gospel, in order to enlarge the kingdom of God as far as lay in his power, having despised his most splendid patrimony, his most noble family, and his most illustrious homeland, zeal for enlarging the kingdom of God, he gave himself entirely to his beloved Jesus, naked and affixed to the Cross: and when, having undertaken ^a brief pilgrimage, at Bergamo first, and then in very many other cities, he began to exercise all works of piety toward you; whom, begrimed with destitution, afflicted by cold and nakedness, he embraced and cherished most humanely: and when in the public famine the complaints of wretched calamity were heard everywhere, he so kindly gathered you together, so loved you, so devoted himself to your welfare, having gathered companions, that by his examples and most holy admonitions, he healed the diseases of souls, and he himself served the necessities of bodies, sat by the sick, and sought food on foot from door to door by begging. Which things both wafted the sweetest fragrance of his virtues to the divine nostrils and raised ^a distinguished light and exemplar for all of Lombardy, having erected hospices and orphanages, not for any show of sanctity, but for worshipping God inwardly and from the heart: since through his work, in many most celebrated cities of the same province, hospices and orphanages have been erected, in which that same voice of yours, which once deplored the calamities of the times, now at day and night hours renders praises to the supreme Deity. Nor yet was he content with these deeds accomplished; but when he had gathered ^a great number of the needy, had aided them with shelter, food, and other things necessary for life, he moreover persuaded many of both the clerical and lay order to resign their most ample patrimonies, and to enter into the fellowship and communion of such pious labors."

[7] "But what shall I say of his charity toward God, openly declared by very many proofs and deeds in many places? Was not that ^a most certain proof of love, that, when he himself, seized by ^a grave illness, lay with you on straw at the church of the Holy Sepulchre in Milan, he nevertheless never laid down his care for you? charity toward orphans, Indeed, when he was invited by many honorable men of Milan to the most spacious quarters, alone for the sake of caring for himself, the good shepherd refused, saying he could in no way be separated from his sheep. Which singular charity of the shepherd toward his little flock God so loved that in ^a short time He wished him to be enriched with an ample house and to be restored and confirmed in his former health. What about at Pavia? Did he not, when the administrators of the hospice, which bore the name of Mercy, had ordered certain persons dwelling there to move elsewhere, and of the sick, so as to grant that place to the arriving Emiliani and the orphans, prefer to dwell under that deserted roof, everywhere pervious to winds and rain, which is seen by the citadel in the lower city, rather than to inconvenience anyone by his arrival? Many things of this kind I knowingly pass over, about which those who merely knew him by sight can truly and clearly affirm. Of what sort would you say it was -- to have patiently borne insults inflicted upon him, always to have sincerely pitied sinners, patience in bearing injuries, to have borne with equanimity the offense, faults, and annoyances not only of those with whom he lived but of absolutely all men? Therefore, that I might in some part assist his zeal with my effort -- he who labored vehemently to draw you to God and to bind you to Him with the bonds of love -- I wish this little book to be dedicated to you, beloved ones: and I pray God that He kindle in your hearts flames of His love as great as those I seek for His honor and for the increase of the Christian religion; so that you too may wish to persevere in those same works of mercy and divine charity, and others, by the example of that same Jerome Emiliani (whom I, though he is dead, pursue and venerate with singular devotion), fervor in reciting prayers may be vehemently roused to performing the same works of piety; and thence at last may arise that general change of morals and sanctity in the Church, which he most eagerly thirsted for, and for the obtaining of which he wrote certain fixed prayers to be recited according to ^a definite formula, which you are accustomed to sing from time to time after the solemnities of Mass in your common prayers." Thus far Friar Girolamo, who, if I am not mistaken, depicted Jerome quite graphically and, as they say, in his own colors -- ^a man fully worthy of credence both for the commendation of his religious order and, what is most important, for the eyewitness testimony of the things he writes.

[8] But I shall also not leave unmentioned the very honorable testimony of Pius V, with which he adorned the man, when in his Pontifical diploma he addresses him in these very words: Pius V from personal acquaintance: "Jerome Emiliani, formerly ^a Venetian Patrician, ^a man distinguished for exceptional piety, inspired, as it is piously believed, by the Holy Spirit, having set aside all worldly cares, etc." Which illustrious testimony is to be valued all the more highly inasmuch as it comes from the Supreme Pontiff Pius V, truly ^a saint, who had well known Jerome beforehand.

[9] To this also belong the manifold vows of those who come to his tomb for religious reasons, even from great distances; votive offerings hung up, or commend themselves in prayers to the blessed man: very many of whom testify that they are daily augmented with not inconsiderable gifts of graces, pertaining both to the benefits of the soul and of the body: and with votive tablets offered, candles lit, and other tokens of devotion displayed at the tomb, they profess themselves grateful for the benefit received; in vain does the sacristan try to prevent them and the Fathers to object. For by ^a weighty decree of our Superiors it is provided that no kind of honor whatsoever should be admitted, even if it comes from outsiders, or be offered by our own members to Jerome, which cannot be offered to holy men without the intervening judgment and consent of the Supreme See. But however much the Superiors resist, in many places the zeal of the pious can scarcely be restrained, and the ardor of piety of the sons especially toward their best Father and the founder of the Congregation, and the duty of devotion, already confirmed by the course of not ^a few years, can hardly be repressed. But we shall say something about these matters in the following chapter and the one after.

CHAPTER II

Admirable Things Concerning Jerome.

[10] Although the things which Jerome accomplished throughout the course of his life for the glory of God and the salvation of his neighbors, and which frequently befell him by divine gift, are most worthy indeed of the commendation and admiration of all mortals; yet certain things are recounted about him so far beyond the common order of things that the name "admirable" seems to have become proper to them by ^a certain special right. In briefly setting forth ^a few of these, I shall linger over one or two chapters, so that the divine gifts conferred upon the man may shine forth more splendidly and the heavenly benignity may be praised more earnestly by all. And that first seems admirable to me, and indeed ^a rare proof of divine providence and goodness in Jerome, that he alone undertook so many works, and in so short ^a time brought them to completion with so favorable and happy ^a result. From the time he first departed from Venice to his death, no more than six years intervened, Jerome within six years erects 12 pious places, in which he erected nearly twelve pious places, furnished them with laws, and fortified them with so certain and stable ^a manner of living that they still persevere, greatly augmented even now. He gathered no small number of companions, and these not of low rank, but ennobled by letters, and altogether outstanding and exceptional in their fortunes. he gathers 300 companions, More than three hundred souls were governed by Jerome's direction and authority, of whom very many from how lofty ^a rank of honors and riches had been brought down to ^a humble and abject manner of life by the example and exhortation of Jerome alone, has already been sufficiently stated above. Which I certainly think should be attributed not so much to the zeal and diligence of ^a busy and active man as to divine providence. For scarcely had the servant of God entered some city, though an unknown and foreign man, all things succeeding according to his wish he refers to God: pleading the cause of the most abject poor, when everything succeeded according to his heart's wish; so that he himself, when he would ponder in his mind or narrate to others the goodness of the divine deity so lavished upon the poor and needy, would altogether blush and be suffused with shame, then, drawing sighs from the depths of his breast, would close his speech with these words: "Who is like the Lord our God, who dwells on high and looks down upon the lowly?" Psalm 112 Arrogating nothing to himself, that is, but wishing whatever had been well accomplished to be attributed to God; and rightly so indeed, since wherever Jerome turned his mind or set his hand, he experienced in ^a singular and admirable manner the present help of God, which by ^a happy and expeditious course seconded his undertakings. Which, while it may be observed in nearly all his deeds, yet, if we descend to the particulars of what he did or said, and what he obtained from the Lord by his prayers, it will shine forth much more clearly in the successes of admirable works, among which the following one seems to me to hold the principal place.

[11] When once at home -- that is, at Somasca in the fortress -- bread was lacking for feeding the numerous household, and all things were frozen by the foul tempest of the sky and winter, At Somasca, with ^a harsh winter preventing bread from being brought, which had set in with unusual severity, and the approaches of all roads were blocked by the excess of snows, so that daily provisions could neither be sought by them nor supplied by others; the steward of the dining hall and the bread-room, along with others, announced to Jerome that there was scarcely enough bread at home for three or four persons to be fed sparingly: yet more than forty souls were counted in that household. Then he, not at all disturbed, forbade them also to be anxious, and admonished them only to cast their hope upon God, whose generous kindness they would shortly experience. "Will He," he said, "who once fed so many thousands of Hebrews in the desert, and satisfied an immense multitude of men with very few loaves to satiety, who fills every creature with blessing and prepares food for the young ravens -- will He, caring for us in the same way, leave us destitute of necessary things?" after prayers having been poured forth, And having thus roused their spirits to salutary confidence, withdrawing himself to prayer, he confidently besought God to relieve the extreme want of his household. Nor were his prayers in vain or unheard. For when these had been completed, with the hour of dinner already pressing, he ordered all the bread there was he crumbles the bread to be brought to him: but there were three or at most four loaves; which, broken into pieces, he cast into his lap (as if seed committed to the field of divine confidence, from which he would reap an abundant harvest): then, making the sign of the Cross with his hand, he signed them, silently commending the whole matter to divine mercy in his private prayers: he augments them by the sign of the Cross, and presently he felt those very few loaves, within his lap, so augmented by the heavenly blessing that, generously distributing the heavenly grace to all, they not only sufficed for the satisfaction of all but also abundantly remained over. Those who were present and explored the truth of the matter both with their eyes and their taste confirm the credibility of the deed.

[12] But whether the greatness of the miracle was augmented or confirmed by what was afterward handed down concerning that same bread, I am not certain; fragments of which, long preserved, namely that it retained, even after many years of preservation, the power to drive away diseases. The matter has been confirmed more than once by experiment by Martino Martellino, who was then one of those who were nourished by Jerome at Somasca. they drive away diseases, This man preserved ^a fragment of the bread, which he knew had been divinely multiplied, with great devotion for ^a long time, and when he had become ^a priest of proven probity and the Curate of Garda in the Val Camonica of the diocese of Brescia, frequently visiting the sick, by rubbing the bread in water or broth, he would relieve them of their disease. And this is said to have occurred at various times, but especially and specifically in the last days of Martellino, in the following manner. Nicolo Ruggeri, in the village of Fossa near Garda, especially ^a fever: had been wretchedly afflicted with ^a fever for five months already, and could not be relieved by the art of physicians; Martellino, the parish priest of Garda, approached him and rubbed ^a little of the bread, which he kept for the use of the sick, in water, then offered ^a portion of it to the patient; health followed the bread taken with great faith, and was attributed to the merits of Jerome. Those who were present as witnesses attest to the deed, and Martellino frequently applied the same bread for various kinds of diseases, with ^a certain result of restored health. Moreover, witnesses seem to indicate that the bread was increased more than once by Jerome's prayers in the extreme need of his household, namely at Somasca and at Bergamo.

[13] [it is believed that he removed diseases by his prayers and the sign of the Cross,] How many sick he healed not so much by medicines as by prayers or the sign of the Cross, as others attest, we have indicated above; and it was the opinion of many that when he applied medicines to certain sick persons, he purposely sought those remedies as coverings for his cures, and would draw ^a veil over the health he was about to obtain by his prayers, so that the patient would be believed to have recovered by the aid of remedies, not by his prayers. Which thing does not greatly depart from the truth: for very many, gravely afflicted with ulcers and ulcers: that seemed incurable, recovered by so light ^a treatment and in so short ^a space that their cure would rightly come to be ^a matter of admiration and of the opinion that there was ^a greater power than natural at work.

[14] Nor does what happened shortly before Jerome took to his bed with his final illness, in the sight and hearing of nearly all who were at home, excite less wonder. One of the boys he had gathered, also seized by that epidemic plague which was then raging everywhere, as we said, lay most gravely stricken, nearly lifeless: from ^a dying boy for he had lost the use of his tongue from the disease, and destitute of all motion, he seemed to all to be dead rather than near death: yet with his throat momentarily loosened, he exclaimed that ^a wonderful and truly admirable vision had been presented to him: those present urged him to declare what it was; then in distinct words and ^a clear voice he continued: a seat prepared for him is seen: he had beheld from ^a lofty and illustrious place ^a seat, very conspicuous with gold and gems and radiant with heavenly brightness, with an inscription engraved in golden letters in these words: "Prepared for Jerome Emiliani." There is no doubt that God wished to perfect from the mouths of infants and sucklings the praise of His servant Jerome. But he, most vehemently moved by this event, seeing himself being drawn by these things into ^a certain reputation for sanctity, was entirely meditating flight thence, and would have quickly seized upon it, had not the disease more quickly confined the man to his bed.

[15] When he was now nearly at the point of death, the elders of that village assembled so that the dying man might pray well for them on account of his pious admonitions being observed and instill some of his salutary counsels; to whom he left these instructions in place of ^a testament: "If on feast days they abstained from games, dances, and choruses, if they celebrated those sacred days in ^a Christian and devout manner, if they abolished the impious custom of blaspheming, he would be ^a most certain guarantor before God that their fields would be safe from the ravages of hail." They observed for some time the due celebration of feasts and the cessation of blasphemy; divine goodness also stood by Jerome's promises; the field was immune from hail, for when hail was raging fiercely through neighboring places, the Somascan field was seen to be unharmed; and the elders of that village testified that this continued for some years. But when they -- or rather the younger generation -- returned to their former ways, they were again gravely and justly struck by the scourge of hail.

CHAPTER III

Other Things of the Same Kind.

[16] After his death also, very many testify that they were aided by his prayers in various matters, among whom, to begin with the more ancient ones, Giovanni Antonio Mazzoleni, ^a notary of Calolzio, stands out most prominently: who had been most hostile to Jerome during his lifetime, and did not permit him to establish his first domicile at Calolzio as he had planned, and never ceased to assail the man with insults, as ^a vagabond and beggar, his enemy as we noted in its proper place. This man was afflicted with ^a headache that never ceased; indeed, when ^a violent attack came on, he was so gravely tormented that he seemed to lose his reason and become insane, and nearly to be cast out of the power of his mind, with the efforts of physicians having been employed in vain for many years. When Jerome's death was made known, and the report of his sanctity was then especially growing among all, he was at last deeply moved; because he alone had opposed ^a man so upright and, by the testimony of all, practically ^a saint: and when he saw that gatherings of all ranks were being made from everywhere to Somasca to the body of the deceased, to the body of the deceased he too, repentant of his deed, resolved to venerate the man in death whom he had despised in life. Therefore, kneeling at the bier and praying, while being tormented by his customary headache, the thought came to him to implore the intercession of Jerome for driving away the disease, whom he heard being proclaimed as Blessed by all. having begged pardon and implored his aid, Therefore, having first begged pardon for his offenses, he besought his aid with great faith: "If those things," he said, "O Jerome, which I hear circulating about the sanctity of your life are true: deign both to pardon me, ^a wretched sinner, he is freed from his headache: and to drive away my headache by your prayers, I beg you." Scarcely had he finished his prayer when he ceased to be troubled by the headache, nor did the disease ever return. Thanks were given by all to God and to Jerome: and the favor was more illustrious among all because it was the first to be conferred after Jerome's death, and was given to an enemy above the rest.

[17] Also in the thirteenth year of the current century, in the month of May, suffering from sciatica, Veronica, ^a nun of the monastery of the Holy Mother of God at Bergamo, already advanced in age and past her sixtieth year, was suffering from ^a severe sciatica with ^a putrid ulcer around the thigh near the hip bone, so that Giovanni Paolo Barili, the monastery's physician, having frequently inspected the disease, asserted that certain remedies could indeed be applied for the comfort of the patient; but that the cure of the disease was hopeless, both on account of the patient's advanced age and on account of the callous edges and the erosion of bone added to the ulcer through length of time (as usually happens), with the most bitter torment of the sufferer. Remedies having been applied nonetheless by way of experiment, it was plainly discovered that they had been irritants rather than medications: for after the fourth month, the force of the disease so increased and the pain so intensified and made lame, that unless she used wooden supports placed under both armpits, she could not advance or move herself from the spot. When therefore, on the twenty-second of November, Horace de Federici, the Vicar General of the Bishop of Bergamo, was conducting an inquiry in that monastery about the life and character of Jerome, Veronica was advised by others also to submit herself on the following day to examination, to testify to the sanctity of Jerome, and to set forth with complete integrity what she had heard as ^a very young woman from the elder nuns about Jerome's sanctity. She, about to retire to bed that evening, began to recollect diligently the memory of those things: and when many truly admirable things came to mind which she had received from trustworthy sources, she also put on the resolution to commend herself, being very ill, to him: and immediately, on bended knees, she gave herself to prayer, with an intimate movement of her heart begging the Father that, if those things are true which she had heard about the restoration of health to other sick persons and about the multiplication of bread, he would be willing to add this also to the other benefits: that he might by his prayers free her, laboring under ^a grave and incurable infirmity: then, thus trusting in God and in Jerome as her benefactor, she composed herself in bed, no longer experiencing the customary pains by which she was most bitterly tormented every night, and slept comfortably. healed by his aid being implored: Awakened early in the morning, she felt herself free from the disease, rose from bed, and without using any wooden supports, descended the stairs, gave the signal alone for the Angelus greeting and the nocturnal psalmody; after the nocturnal hours were completed, she again ascended the stairs: on that same day, summoned for the examination, she set forth the matter as it was. And after many intervening days, the Vicar again subjected Veronica to examination, and she testified that she was much healthier still, whereas before she could not advance even ^a single step without the supports placed under her arms to hold up her body. The wooden crutches and supports, discarded, are seen hung at Jerome's tomb together with the narration of the event.

[18] Giacomo Metaxano, ^a nobleman of Cephalonia, while studying at the Patriarchal Seminary in Venice, and having frequently heard from our Fathers about Jerome's deeds and having read his Life also, was so kindled with piety toward him that he chose him as his Patron and Advocate before God and commended himself entirely to him alone in all matters. Therefore, in the fourteenth year of this century, ^a tertian fever, and that ^a double one, not intermittent, was attacking the young man and wretchedly consuming him, and there were manifest signs of malignancy; and since the patient was less obedient to the physicians' prescriptions, it happened through his intemperance that the disease grew worse to the very point of despair for his health. Therefore ^a council of physicians was convened one day, among whom two were more eminent, Marcellino and Amalteo, who, having perceived the gravity of the disease, sternly pronounced with one consent that the patient could not survive into the next day: for his senses were already failing. Marcellino on his departure urged that the patient be fortified as soon as possible with the last aid of Extreme Unction: dying of ^a fever, ^a priest was immediately summoned, the minister of the last anointing, by whom, having been questioned repeatedly whether he wished to be anointed with the holy oil, he at last barely nodded with dying utterances and ^a movement of his eyes. After the Extreme Unction, when he already seemed to be giving up the ghost, he was absolved by the same priest with the sacred prayers which, according to the rite of the Church, are customarily employed for commending the soul of the departing: and with all -- the physicians and everyone else -- having lamented his health, death was expected from moment to moment. There happened to be present one of our Fathers, Francesco Zoia, who was standing by the dying man: he, casting his eyes upon the image of Jerome having kissed his image, which hung over the patient's head, exhorted Giacomo to commend himself to Jerome, his Patron, who would obtain health for him from God, he implores his aid, and seizing the image, offered it to the dying man to be kissed. Nor did the announcement prove vain, for the man, gazing upon the likeness of his Patron, kissed it devoutly, and as best he could, besought his intercession by ^a vow. Without delay: with Jerome called upon for aid, the force of the disease began to relent, and with his breath now flowing more freely, speech returned to the patient together with health. he is healed: On the following day Marcellino came to inquire whether he had survived: he was led into the bedroom, discovered that the fever had broken and the patient had recovered from all disease, and, dumbstruck by the magnitude of the event, immediately exclaimed: "Behold Lazarus recalled from the dead!" And afterward he recovered fully, and affirmed to the physician that he had emerged from his disease by the aid of Jerome, sought by his vow; and Giacomo, under oath, deposed this at Venice, with official records of the matter drawn up, and he professed that he owed his health to the merits and intercession of Jerome.

[19] A certain priest of our order was most bitterly afflicted with ^a headache, another, with his head inclined to the tomb, is freed from headache: and since no remedy could relieve so great ^a pain, he went to the tomb of Jerome: there he prayed for some time for his health, and interposed the merits of Jerome: then, inclining his head to the tomb, he kissed it, and held his head, afflicted with pain, for some time against the stone of the tomb: at which contact all the pain immediately departed, and he immediately narrated that event to all as ^a miracle.

[20] Gregoria Emiliana was Jerome's niece by his brother Luca, ^a Virgin consecrated to God, in the monastery of the nuns of Saint Louis in Venice, his niece obtains various benefits by his intercession, where, having reached the age of eighty, she departed, renowned for ^a wonderful example of devotion and piety, and dear to all the nuns: she was accustomed to relate frequently that she had ^a holy uncle, to whose intercession she would have recourse when some adversity threatened, and she would employ him as an intercessor before God: from whom she also professed that she had received many remarkable gifts; and she was accustomed to narrate this seriously to the other nuns when discussing the things of God.

a The Life written by Andrea Stella, about whom see Chapter 4, as Rossi adds.

CHAPTER IV

Other Benefits Divinely Granted through the Prayers of Jerome.

[21] By the same intercession, At Bergamo, in the monastery of the girls of the suburb of Saint Anthony, Lucia Brigida had been suffering for fifteen years already from rheumatism (what our people call salt flux): by which noxious humor, with the nostrils heated to an extreme degree (to which it chiefly flowed), the head was also kindled by ^a burning inflammation: nor could any medical skill relieve the affliction, their industry having been implored in vain for so many years, and remedies having been applied and ^a careful selection of foods observed. rheumatism removed, Moreover, the kind of disease was very harmful both on account of the inflammation of the nostrils and head, and on account of the putrid defluxion of phlegm, horrible and repulsive to all. Lucia therefore, having one day condemned the useless effort of the physicians, turned to divine aid with Jerome as her intercessor, and with an ardent prayer besought health from the Lord by his merits and intercession. Jerome proved himself an altogether useful Patron; for she felt herself well very quickly, and afterward, using every kind of food without any selection or distinction, she experienced absolutely no ill effect, and so she gives thanks to God and to Jerome her intercessor.

[22] At Somasca, Caterina Vulpi, the wife of Ambrogio, laboring in ^a difficult delivery, difficulty in giving birth, was tormented for two nights and ^a full day in ^a scarcely bearable manner, and could not deliver the child; when Andrea, her father-in-law, approached her, and having scarcely entered the room of the woman in labor and beheld her oppressed by such bitter torment and crying out, he immediately withdrew, unable to bear the sight of the suffering woman any longer, and retiring to the next room, approached an image of the Blessed Virgin, and there, on his knees on the ground, with ^a prayer poured forth, he employed the merits of Jerome to obtain relief for the woman in labor, and promised that he would offer ^a silver image at Jerome's tomb if the pregnant woman should deliver safely: as soon as he propitiated Jerome with his vow, the child was brought forth safely, with almost no sensation of pain, whereas before all had been in doubt about the life of both. Andrea, having offered the silver tablet at Jerome's tomb, professed him to be the author of the benefit.

[23] In the same place, Prudentia Amigoni was very frequently tormented most bitterly by colic pains, colic pain, and could no longer be relieved by any art, all remedies having been tried without success; when at last, having poured forth the most ardent prayers to Jerome, she commended herself and pledged by vow to recite daily, for as long as she lived, the Lord's Prayer and the Angelic Salutation three times, in honor of God and of Jerome; and having made the vow, she was never afterward troubled by any pain: which favor she testifies she owes to Jerome's prayers and merits.

[24] But as I recount external benefits, the domestic ones must not be passed over, and especially that must be brought forth Father Andrea Stella which Father Andrea Stella from among our own publicly testified about himself in the Life of Jerome written by him. I shall explain the matter, not unworthy of knowing, at greater length, because the supreme departure of so great ^a man from us admonishes me to write those things about him more freely which, during his lifetime, would by no means have been permitted. The matter therefore was as follows. Clement VIII had dispatched to Dalmatia, with the office of Apostolic Visitor, Michele Priuli, Bishop of Vicenza, to survey that province and to fortify it, if necessary, with laws and constitutions according to ecclesiastical discipline: now at that time, Father Andrea Stella was living at Vicenza, Professor of Theology, placed in charge of our college, and was explaining in public lectures in the Bishop's hall, with ^a great reputation and attendance and with no less fruit, that part of Theology which deals with resolving the knotty questions and problems of conscience: he also frequently preached to the people in the cathedral and an outstanding preacher, in that polished and elegant style of speaking in which he excelled greatly, and indeed in ^a truly golden stream of eloquence, and he had been heard there during the days of the great fast by so dense and frequent an audience that in ^a church, otherwise most spacious, he could sometimes scarcely break through to the pulpit. Michele had therefore enlisted him under the title of Theologian in that office: which having been duly performed, when he had returned to Venice, whether worn out by the labors of the completed office or gravely affected by the inclemency of the new climate, scarcely ^a month after that return, to the immense sorrow of his homeland indeed and to the loss of the Church of Vicenza, he was snatched from human affairs. A man complete in all qualities of probity and prudence, and second to none in establishing and maintaining ecclesiastical discipline: to whom also both our Religious Order owes much and the college of Vicenza in particular. Father Stella also underwent ^a very similar danger to his life, but with ^a different outcome, not long after that return; for in the month of September of the fourth year of the present century, he was seized by ^a vicious fever, seized by ^a pestilential fever, whose pestilential force, the less it revealed itself at the beginning, the more dangerously it ravaged the vital organs, and kept the medical experts long in suspense with the uncertain outcome of the event: moreover, to the grave disease of the body was added an even graver sickness of the mind, namely delirium, which held the man for several days: yet in his manifest delirium there was not lacking in him ^a certain kind of piety: for he did not permit himself to be approached by the physician unless the physician had first, on his knees by his bed, recited the Lord's Prayer and the Angelic Salutation five times: certainly ^a great proof of innate goodness, that nature, which most reveals itself in that kind of disease, should break forth into those offices of piety. Therefore, with the patient having been gravely afflicted for many days, the ferocity of the disease finally broke out entirely, when the physicians affirmed with one consent that there remained absolutely no hope of life for the one lying so wretchedly, and that he, as one given up by the medical judgment, was being prepared for his final funeral pomp by our men: and in more than one church ^a public supplication had been proclaimed by the nobler citizens for the sake of his health.

[25] When therefore the sick mind had returned to sanity, on the point of death he makes ^a vow to write the Life of Jerome, having already been refreshed with the sacred bread under the name of Viaticum, and having been intent on prayer for some time, our Jerome came to his mind, whose tomb he had visited not long before for reasons of devotion, and at the same time the idea of making ^a vow was given, which he immediately pronounced in these words: "Good God, if my former strength is restored and the enjoyment of light is added to my failing life, I promise that I shall write the Life of Your servant Emiliani, the Founder of our Order: and if the Superior of my Religious Order, the interpreter of Your divine will, approves, I also bind myself by the obligation of ^a vow." Wonderful to say: scarcely had the vow been conceived in honor of Jerome when the force of the disease relented, he recovers, and while all others despaired of his health, the patient alone immediately conceived the most certain hope of life and recovery: nor was he disappointed, for indeed, with the disease always diminishing day by day, he recovered very quickly, with the despair of all turned to admiration. Scarcely relieved of his illness, he stood by his promises and, with the utmost eloquence and piety, wrote the Life of Jerome in the Italian language, and publishes the Life in Italian, referring the benefit of life received to his merits.

[26] And would that the outcome of the other illness had been the same, by which the same Father died this very year at Venice, where ^a certain sickly and nearly pestilential force of autumn seemed to rage, especially in the month of October, during which far more than usual are said to have been consumed by the wasting of disease. On the fifteenth of October, therefore, the illness attacked the Father, which from the beginning showed clearly enough that it threatened danger to his life, with the stomach also so severely affected that whatever was ingested he would immediately eject with great force: but with stronger remedies immediately applied, the force of the sickness seemed so repressed that the physicians above all considered that the supreme danger had been sufficiently met and the peril most certainly averted. For that monstrous disturbance of the stomach had subsided, then by ^a disease of the stomach and ^a lingering fever, and nothing of the disease remained except ^a very slight fever, which for twenty-nine days troubled the patient, but very mildly indeed, with the hope of recovering health always held out, and the physicians also constantly declaring that no further ill would ensue. When behold, with them and our men least expecting it, suddenly, with his strength having collapsed, he was seized with so great ^a languor of body that he could not move himself in any direction: he dies, and the slight fever, having turned into ^a pestilential plague, extinguished the man within two days. Yet this supreme event did not catch the Father unprepared, for during those days of relief, when all most certainly affirmed that his health was entirely secure, and kept saying that he would very shortly emerge from all disease, now freed from danger, and the physicians above all proclaimed all things favorable and prosperous; yet to him alone the face of impending death was always before his eyes, so that nothing occupied his thoughts less than life. Wherefore no conversation except about death, no thought but of death; and he bore the discomforts of the disease with such patience that you could plainly see ^a not obscure preparation for his approaching departure. He died on the seventeenth of November, with certainly ^a greater grief and loss to the entire Religious Order than I can explain at present; having previously held the supreme office of the Order, for he had greatly distinguished it by his assiduous labors of preaching in the foremost cities of Italy, with the solid glory of the pulpit, and he had always admirably aided it in great matters by his singular prudence in the conduct of affairs, both in the supreme office which he held among us with great praise, and afterward always in important business. His talent was vivid and excellent, his spirit lofty and made for all things great and arduous, his manners most sweet and truly lovable, his appearance graceful with both beauty and majesty, always cheerful and resembling one smiling. The rest will be related in due course in ^a more ample style by the history of the Religious Order: these few things I have anticipated, to alleviate in some part the pain of ^a most bitter wound; let us return to the remaining matters concerning Jerome.

CHAPTER V

Jerome's Charity toward God.

[27] With the interrupted narrative of past events, the pen will be recalled, I believe with greater profit for the readers, to the explication of Jerome's heavenly virtues. For while the former matters have very much of admiration, Jerome, from his fervent charity toward God, which nourishes and provokes the curiosity of readers; these matters stimulate and sharpen imitation, which is usually the chief fruit of sacred histories. Moreover, it is pleasing to begin writing from that virtue which is the first among the rest in nobility and dignity -- namely that ardent and extraordinary charity toward God, in which our Jerome so excelled above all that all the signs or components of this virtue shone forth most greatly in him. First, there was in him ^a frequent and indeed continuous zeal for prayer, he prays much: so that he would daily extend his supplication over many hours: and however much the daily ministries and instruction of his neighbors might have taken away from this exercise during the day; he strove to make up just as much by snatching from sleep nocturnal hours: and it was already very customary for him not only to spend ^a good part of the night in prayer, but also to pass entire nights sleepless, kneeling in supplication; and this especially when he would keep vigil with the sick in the infirmary, or at home attending to necessary ministries for his own people. Moreover, if I interpret that habit of his -- of taking sleep on boards or even the bare ground, and without removing his garments -- as being done so that he might awaken more quickly and be more readily roused to prayer; I should not be far from the truth, since I know that this manner of resting was adopted by other holy men also solely for the sake of prayer. For Saint Elizabeth (to pass over others), the wife of the Landgrave, Prince of Thuringia, would sleep on the pavement with ^a small rug spread out, lest ^a too deep sleep should steal from her the hours for praying, if she lay more softly. The doorkeeper had not much labor in searching for Jerome if he was called to the door; for unless he found him occupied with the common exercises or with the instruction of the boys, it was certain for him that the man was to be found at the place of prayer.

[28] And from this long and frequent conversation and intimacy with God there arose in him so easy and prompt an elevation of mind toward God, he is easily elevated in mind toward God: that from the sight of any creature, or from ^a new occurrence of things, or even from some unusual event, he would most easily be rapt toward God; and those things which are accustomed to lead others with distracted minds away from God by the annoyances of wandering thoughts, all those same things would always, as if steps of ^a heavenly ascent, drive Jerome toward God. Moreover, the fruit of his prayers was neither small nor contemptible, and this was frequently proved to the benefit of both the sick and the healthy. But another new proof that also relates to prayer it is pleasing to bring forward. When once at Somasca in the fortress he was engaged in the appointed daily prayers at the set hour, and the entire surrounding household was present, poured out in prayer as was the custom; the enemies of hell, not tolerating so pious ^a work of devotion, amid the ardent prayers of all, attacked the boys with the most impure spirits, and so troubled them by his prayers he drives away the suggestions of demons: that, dissolved in laughter and guffaws, breaking forth into shameful and obscene words, and into things said jokingly and buffoonishly, they were disturbing the pious pursuits of those at prayer. Jerome immediately understood whence the insolence of the voices and the unusual laughter arose. Wherefore, pouring himself into more ardent prayers, he began to adjure the most accursed beasts to depart thence; to command in the name of Christ that they leave the boys, in whom they had no right, free, and without delay remove themselves from the place: and without delay, those monsters of hell, driven out by Jerome's prayers, never returned. Certainly so frequent an exercise of prayer, and with such abundant fruit, is no small proof of charity toward God.

[29] Moreover, do we think that so great ^a contempt of perishable things, and so great an abdication and oblivion of all earthly things could have existed without some extraordinary and most ardent fervor of the same virtue? he makes nothing of worldly things, Certainly the heavenly things are never so sought, with the earthly growing contemptible, unless the sweetness of divine charity has been tasted at its source. Now for Jerome those things had so lost their value that no mention of his homeland, homeland, friends: no mention of his kinsmen, no memory or recollection of these things had any force with him: indeed nothing was more annoying to him than if anyone raised conversation about these topics: for having come to loathe all things, nothing seemed to please him except divine things. But perhaps no more illustrious proof of his most ardent charity toward God was the immense grief with which he was affected by divine offenses, and the most bitter torment of soul which he experienced when the Deity was injured. There is one who affirms under oath that he heard from the already aged people of Somasca -- namely octogenarian eyewitnesses -- the following.

[30] Two brothers, whether from Somasca or another village is not disclosed, entangled in mutual and prolonged discords, were at bitter enmity with each other with mortal hatred: the quarrels of two brothers, and when one was heading to Vercurago and the other was returning from Vercurago to Somasca, they met each other on the very descent of the slope: at the sight of each other, anger was stirred in both, the motions of revenge were aroused, with the blood boiling around the heart and seething throughout the entire body; thence ^a fierce and danger-filled quarrel broke out: and at first the matter began to be conducted with words, and blasphemies against God and Saint Mary, but in such ^a way that amid disputes and threats each one assailed the other with curses and injuries, and both poured forth, as is customary with men of this kind, most frequent blasphemies, thoroughly impious and monstrous, against God and the most sacred Mother. As soon as the two met each other, Jerome also happened to arrive with others, and having heard the beginning of the contention, he ran up, by his exhortation, interposed himself between them, exhorted and begged them to put aside their anger, to restrain their tongues from the crime of blasphemy. "What," Jerome said, "what wrong has our Lord committed? What wrong has the most sacred Virgin? In what matter has she been ^a harm or offense to you, that you should tear them with such dire execrations?" And when he saw that ears were closed to the admonisher and that hearts had already hardened against his pleas and prayers; he, who could no longer bear the horrible sound of blasphemies and was nearly bursting apart at such great injury to the Deity; in that very mud where he was, he placed his knees. "And you," he said, "will you not restrain your tongues from so great ^a crime of blasphemy, even when admonished? Behold, I shall take vengeance on myself for your crime, I shall pay the penalties of your dire blasphemy, I shall oppose myself, as I can, to the heavenly vengeance." Then he thrust his face into the mud, by chewing mud, bit it with his teeth, turned the filth over in his whole mouth, chewed and ground it with his teeth: and turning to them again, not without tears, "You," he said, "with your tongues and your more than sacrilegious mouths abuse God and the most blessed Virgin: I shall roll mud in my tongue and mouth until you desist from your dire words, he restrains them: and satisfaction is made to the injured Deity." And as he continued both to take mud into his mouth and, as it were, to chew it with his teeth, and to rebuke those men, divine goodness did not allow that so great ^a grief conceived at the injury to the Deity, and so noble an effort of Jerome to avert it, should fall fruitless: for they, vehemently moved by so rare and extraordinary ^a deed, stood fixed in stupefaction; and with the fires of their anger somewhat extinguished, they also abstained from their curses. Then Jerome began to seek peace, to urge peace through the merits of Christ the Lord and the most blessed Virgin, to implore and beg for peace: "Let them grant this," he said, "to those most holy names which they had so foully torn with such dire execrations; that in place of penance and satisfaction they should enter into peace and give peace." Nor with difficulty were the hardened hearts softened by Jerome's deeds and words; anger was laid aside, the quarrel was removed, and not without mutual tears and joy, ^a reconciliation being made, they immediately returned to fraternal fellowship. Thus did the unprecedented penance of Jerome chastise and remove the ingrained anger and the dire crimes of blasphemy.

[31] And indeed he would have undergone the harshest things with ^a ready and willing spirit for the sake of repelling even the slightest offense against God: for the amendment of morals so greatly was he tormented by the deepest pains of soul when the Deity was injured: for which reason, especially in the last years of his life, he seemed to be most grievously afflicted and nearly prostrated. And when he could no longer endure the most corrupt license of living of those times, and most eagerly desired in all things ^a moral discipline amended and worthy of ^a Christian man; he composed for that purpose ^a certain brief and simple prayer, which he wished to be recited daily by the boys during the sacrifice of the Mass and among the other prayers: which prayer I shall here append, rendered into Latin with the same simplicity of style; it reads as follows: "Sweet Father of ours, Lord Jesus Christ, he arranges for this prayer composed by himself to be read by the boys: we beseech Thee by Thy infinite goodness to form and direct all of Christendom to that norm of sanctity which flourished in the times of Thy Apostles." Which prayer formula is still used by orphan boys even at present among their daily prayers.

[32] But when matters were not only not proceeding to ^a better state, but rather, with the pestilential breath of depraved doctrines blowing and the nefarious license of the most insane opinions prevailing, the times had fallen into the greatest upheaval, and Catholic discipline, savagely assailed by the monstrous fury of the faithless, seemed in many places to be imperiled, broken, and utterly overthrown; Jerome was consumed in so dire ^a calamity of the times, he afflicts himself, nor could he without tears behold the ship of the Church, the common refuge of salvation, being wretchedly tossed and battered by the most grievous waves of adverse fortune through the audacious rashness of the most wicked men. And when he had contracted the very greatest and most grievous distress from that cause, yet daily the vehemence of the grief he had contracted was increasingly consuming him from the desperate salvation of the wicked, nor could any pleasure lighten the anxiety impressed upon his soul: indeed, worn out by the long confluence of hardships and evils, when his spirit failed to suppress the encroaching grief; it brought also upon the body itself the ultimate sickness, which frequently arises from ^a spirit long engaged in such great distress and heavy grief. And thus Jerome, debilitated by the bitterness of hardships and he is extinguished by grief for the afflicted Church, and vanquished by the anguish of grief, was abandoned by good health and afterward by life: so that he is not undeservedly believed to have been extinguished by his ardent zeal for the Catholic faith and his most bitter grief for the afflicted Church (which are manifest signs of the most ardent charity toward God) rather than by the force of disease.

CHAPTER VI

His Charity toward His Neighbors.

[33] But that charity toward God was not unfruitful and barren: for the love of God, as Saint Gregory says, Homily on the Gospel begets the love of neighbor, and the love of God warms the love of neighbor. Moreover, this love of neighbor itself, germinating with manifold offspring, pours itself out quite broadly upon the neighbors themselves, relieving their destitution, He burns with love of neighbor: dispelling their ignorance, pardoning their faults, bearing their offenses -- in all of which offices Jerome was plainly, if anyone ever was, distinguished: who cultivated this discipline of beneficence toward all to such ^a degree that among the virtues with which he was most highly adorned throughout his entire life, none seems to me more admirable than this one charity toward his neighbors. For while it is not rare or uncommon to relieve the poor generously from one's own goods; he distributes all his goods to the poor, how great ^a thing it is to exhaust the entire domestic furnishing in alms, to lavish all one's resources on the use of the poor; and to reduce oneself to the same rank of poverty and misery; he begs for them: so as to beg from door to door for food soon to be distributed to the needy, and himself to live on moldy crusts and scraps of bread, with the better food set before the poor; as if he were oppressed far more bitterly by the destitution of others than by his own, and was tormented by another's hunger? Certainly not unlike, in this respect, that Saint Exuperius, the Bishop of the Church of Toulouse in Narbonese Gaul, whom Saint Jerome wonderfully commends; Letter to Rusticus the monk because, an imitator of the widow of Sarepta, he himself being hungry, fed others, and with his face pale from fasting, was tormented by another's hunger, and bestowed his entire substance upon the bowels of Christ.

[34] But to turn from the healthy to the sick, upon whom his benignity flowed much more abundantly, here I shall not pass over one thing, he serves the sick, by which all the things related in previous books about this subject may be more easily brought to examination and each presented to the eyes of observers with its proper dignity and excellence; namely, that Jerome's charity toward the sick and infirm had such beginnings and growth as easily rival the illustrious sanctity of others, and that it attained such an end as rightly equals the sublime glory of martyrdom. For as I reflect upon those beginnings of piety shown toward the sick at Venice, beginning with Saint Bernardino of Siena, where Jerome had his first arena of this virtue, there plainly present themselves the beginnings of the sanctity of the blessed Bernardino of Siena, who laid such foundations of his sanctity among his fellow citizens by works of this kind, when Siena was being devastated by ^a severe plague, that, accompanied by twelve young men whom he had selected for the very task, he would go around the houses of the sick, console the suffering and the gravely afflicted, relieve those laboring in destitution, and bury the dead, prepared to undergo all the risks which that foul plague could inflict upon those who rashly exposed themselves. Certainly, if anyone should wish to compare those beginnings of Jerome's charity toward the sick and the dead, which we reported in their proper place, with those of Saint Bernardino, he would perhaps find that they do not greatly differ from one another.

[35] Thereafter, Jerome, more intensely occupied in that pursuit and with his resolve now long confirmed, made such progress advancing with Saint Elizabeth, as yields nothing whatsoever to the more distinguished in this line: which will become clear if we recall those things which are reported about the charity toward the sick of Elizabeth, daughter of the King of Pannonia and wife of the Landgrave, Prince of Thuringia: who had proceeded to the point that she did not consider it beneath her dignity to receive ^a beggar, an invalid, filthy, squalid, and evil-smelling into her own bosom, and with her own hands to comb his hair, to cut his head, to wash his entire body; and as far as was permitted, to free him from his foulness and filth: and to perform other offices of ^a similar kind for sick and ulcerous paupers. and Blessed Mary of Oignies, To which must also be added that Mary, called of Oignies, together with her husband, whom neither the deformity of the illness, nor the wasting, nor the foul discharge, nor the contagion of disease to be avoided kept from the care of the sick: indeed, the more pitiable the appearance of the ailing, the more it kindled the care of those ministering: whoever attentively considers will see that the growth of Christian charity corresponds equally to what we reported about Jerome in its proper place, in regard to the sick and those covered with ulcers and dripping with pus.

[36] But let us now observe the outcome of so great ^a charity toward the sick and the wretchedly prostrate, which was finally this: that when the plague was raging, while Jerome was serving the sick in his accustomed manner with great devotion, he was touched by the same disease; and he perished with perhaps no lesser glory ending with the holy Egyptian Martyrs enrolled as such: than that of martyrdom: since the ecclesiastical records have been accustomed to enroll in the register of Martyrs those who, engaged in works of charity of this kind, met their death: for thus on the day before the first of March, the devout faith of the pious has been accustomed to venerate, as Martyrs, very many who, while strenuously serving the suffering during ^a raging plague, met death: to whom Saint Dionysius, Bishop of Alexandria, also gave ^a distinguished testimony in his letter to Hierax the Bishop, which Eusebius reports, of which we shall here append these few words: "So that this manner of death, which was undertaken on account of incredible piety and robust faith, seemed to be nothing short of the splendor of martyrdom." Book 7 of the History, ch. 16-17 The passage in Eusebius is absolutely to be consulted, which does much to illuminate the cause of Jerome's death. And from these we have what beginnings and progress Jerome's charity had toward his suffering neighbors, and to what illustrious end it finally led.

[37] But setting aside the care of bodies, let us advance to the cultivation of souls. Of which Jerome was so much more zealous as the soul is more excellent than the body: for which cause, what labors did he not endure? What annoyances did he not swallow? What dangers did he not undergo? He constantly and everywhere devotes himself to the salvation of his neighbors, Hence that perpetual and almost never interrupted occupation of imparting the catechism and instruction in Christian doctrine: hence those very frequent and ardent exhortations to the multitude in the forum, at the crossroads, in the fields, wherever it was convenient, with such burning ardor on the part of the speaker and fruit of the hearers, that the unlearned man, most frequently speaking about divine things, was listened to with the most willing spirits and was approved by all: for whom there was no time vacant from the instruction and service of his neighbors, who, taking advantage of every moment of favorable opportunity, would diligently seize upon it, so that he might lead all, as far as he could, out of the darkness of ignorance to the light of justice and truth. And truly when I reflect in my mind on the things he did from his zeal for procuring the salvation of others, it often comes to mind to wonder what limbs, amid the greatest hardships, what strength, what so firm ^a constitution of ^a well-compacted body could have absorbed and digested such great discomforts of poverty, annoyances of labors, and bitterness of hardships, especially with ^a spirit always tranquil, ^a serene countenance, and ^a body nearly untiring. But indeed that heavenly force of charity and Christian love of neighbors had so strengthened the mind for enduring all bodily labors and hardships with equanimity, and not merely for enduring but even for despising them; that he seemed unable to be recalled or retarded from procuring the salvation of his neighbors by any insults and reproaches of men, by any annoyances or discomforts of poverty, by any bodily labors and vigils: for thus he, taught by that twin charity toward God and neighbors as his guide, to all endurance of soul and body -- which is the excellent conqueror of all evils -- had already been steeled against hardships and hardened against labors.

[38] But that thing in this kind is worthy of singular notice, which, undertaken with great daring, he accomplished with so favorable and happy an outcome; when he won and brought to Christ women lost in public sin, and made them mistresses and leaders of Christian probity in the cloister, in converting unchaste women who had been the most bitter enemies of chastity in the brothel. There were certainly most holy men who, kindled by the same charity toward their neighbors, also undertook the same task; that they might bring women of this kind to Christ: but with how dissimilar an outcome we learn from the small number of those whom we read they truly converted to penance; and that not without some supreme dissimulation and truly singular artifice, and sometimes not without some loss of their reputation and honor. One celebrated Paphnutius the Abbot stands out in the records of writers, who by that artifice compelled Thais, that notorious harlot, from her trade in prostitution to penance. Having obtained ^a private place from her, simulating fear and trepidation, he kept asking whether, if they should come together, anyone would see them. And when she denied that she would be seen by anyone, except by God Himself, who sees all things and knows all things -- "Well then," the old man seized the opportunity and added, "you believe that nothing escapes God's notice, and you are not ashamed to sin before Him, he surpasses Saint Paphnutius who will punish yours and the crimes of all?" The timely reproach of Paphnutius struck the harlot's heart, and with tears welling up, she immediately did penance. But by so noble an artifice and keen interrogation Paphnutius scarcely won one soul for Christ. The wonderful industry of charity of Vitalis also, ^a monk of Alexandria, was remarkable in ^a very similar work, and Saint Vitalis: who often went to the houses of ill fame of women, and having bargained for the night with the one who seemed to abound in the most brazen wantonness, he would offer the price: but once admitted, lying down in some corner of the brothel, he would devote himself to prayer until day broke. The woman, marveling at the deed, was meanwhile compelled to reflect silently within herself not certainly about how much profit she had made, but how much she had offended the heavenly Deity by living shamefully: and so some, converted by him through this pretense, amended their lives. But Vitalis, tossed about by the perverse opinion of men, was publicly spoken ill of, because he frequented the neighborhood of the brothels: so that I easily understand how the correction of women of this kind, attempted with such great danger to their salvation and reputation, and with such great labor and industry, by the holiest men, often succeeded with how meager ^a result. Wherefore one may more greatly admire Jerome in the same work of charity -- not indeed wiser or holier than those ancient most holy Fathers, but happier in the favorable outcome of the affair: who drew not one or two, but very many, not merely away from that shameful license of life and from the camps of vice, which is ^a very great thing and to be most highly esteemed, but even drove them within the enclosures of ^a monastery, into the very camps of penance and of all virtues, which is most greatly to be admired; and this not only with his reputation for innocence entirely intact before all, but with an even more illustrious commendation and glory of extraordinary charity.

[39] This also was ^a not contemptible fruit of his charity toward his neighbors: that, he most gently embraces sinners, although he was inwardly distressed by the sins of others committed against God, and most vehemently grieved that the divine goodness was offended by the wickedness of the ungrateful; yet so kindly did he bear it, by extenuating and excusing human frailty, that he could not show himself more equitable and gentle toward offenders. And while he burned most fiercely against the vices themselves and almost raged, yet he received and treated those subject to vices most gently and mildly: thus severe against himself even for slight faults, he was accustomed to be lenient and mild toward others. But if he had received any injury or offense from another, and those hostile to him: the constancy and equanimity of soul with which he bore all things most mildly was ^a source of complete amazement. There are many examples of this kind, and very grave ones, observed throughout his entire life: indeed he had so mastered his rebellious senses that no sweeter music could reach his ears than many insults heaped upon him and injuries inflicted; and by these and very many other proofs, by which Christian charity toward neighbors is demonstrated, he seems to have been so illustrious and excellent in this virtue, illustrious in all charity, like Saint Honoratus: that what Saint Hilary once said about Saint Honoratus, I would not hesitate to borrow not unfittingly for Jerome. Namely, that there had been in him so great ^a breadth of charity that, if that virtue were to be expressed in the face and appearance of ^a man, it should seem that it ought to be painted especially on Jerome's countenance: nor will he think that anything is said by us beyond belief or for the sake of exaggeration who will peruse the preceding books of his life with an impartial mind. But since there is no place where one may more readily observe Jerome's constant and fervent charity than toward the destitute poor and orphans; it is pleasing to consider this pious institution of charity separately and to discuss it more fully.

a The Life of Saint Bernardino of the Order of Friars Minor we shall give on May 20.

b Saint Elizabeth is venerated on November 19.

c We shall treat of Blessed Mary of Oignies on June 23.

d We give it on February 28, where we treat of those Saints.

e Saint Paphnutius is listed in the manuscript Florarium on March 8, by Maurolycus on November 19.

f Saint Thais is venerated, chiefly by the Greeks, on October 8.

g We gave the Life of Saint Vitalis on January 11.

h We illustrated the Acts of Saint Honoratus on January 16.

i Saint Hilary, Bishop of Arles, is venerated on May 5.

CHAPTER VII

The Education of Abandoned Children: How Pious and Useful to the Commonwealth Such an Institution Is.

[40] That burning fire of holy charity in Jerome was fed above all and perpetually nourished by ^a certain never-interrupted remembrance of divine benefits, diligent in educating orphans, which was always alive in his mind; but he was wonderfully captivated by that one and singular benefit above the rest: that, though He was rich, for our sake He became poor, and since he understood that an equal return of gratitude could never be made by the human race, he nevertheless strove to repay as much as he possibly could. Wherefore he was carried by the most lavish charity toward Christ's poor, because they most closely represented Christ Himself, who became poor for us, and they received the offices of Christian charity performed for them in Christ's stead; who confesses that what has been done for one of the least of these has been done for Him alone: so that it is no wonder if Jerome, wholly engaged in that work, made this one thing his own particular institution above the other offices of piety: and certainly how pleasing and acceptable that function is not only to God Himself but also how beneficial it is to the Commonwealth -- neither alien to the present narrative nor unpleasant for the reader -- it will be worth briefly indicating. For those who view divine things with ^a human eye do not take notice, for the outstanding commendation of the work, of how salutary and religious the endeavor by which each person labors from the common salvation of souls and the glory of God; but rather how splendid and illustrious the applause of men, or from the advantages and splendor of private utility, one toils: and therefore they defer less to this institute, though without any splendor, in which there is more of cares and labors than of splendor and pomp. However, this institute, more useful than showy, ^a work of solid charity and very beneficial to the public, is rightly considered, if any is, meritorious: for those who render diligent service to the nobler and wealthier are found quite frequently; since from that work either no inconsiderable hope of profit shines forth, or the breeze of ambition, stirred and gathered from the servitude and patronage of the powerful, flatters not ^a little: but with great labor: but those who take up the care of the very poorest, consumed by destitution and misery, are exceedingly rare, since no advantage allures, no gain solicits, and only an abundant harvest of labors and hardships flourishes and beckons.

[41] But if it is considered ^a charity of no small degree to nourish the body of ^a poor person with food, or to cover it with clothing, how much loftier an order will these be: to cultivate the same person's mind with good morals, to adorn the intellect with Christian virtues, he instructs them, to instill the rudiments of the Catholic faith and the precepts of divine law into the still tender and weak age, which easily follows the hands of those forming it toward virtue and right faith; and then to train the same persons in various arts and crafts, by which they may lead an honest life and, if opportunity arises, even support ^a family as well: and if some should prove to be of more eminent talent, to bring them out from those sedentary crafts and the darkness of squalor into the light of learning; and not only to satisfy the hunger of the body with food, but also to satisfy that innate and natural desire for knowledge with the liberal arts? And certainly if you call to mind all the orders of the Christian commonwealth, if you survey all the ranks with reason, if you review and traverse all the states in your mind, many will present themselves who, wretchedly neglected in the perpetual squalor of their birth, exposed to theft and every vice, hostile to God and the state, would have lain forever in obscurity; unless by the benefit of this education and discipline they had at some point emerged from the darkness of their birth and the straits of their family fortune, either to the summit and glory of learning, to the great good of the Commonwealth, or to honorable crafts and not inconsiderable wealth, certainly to the immense benefit of the Commonwealth: such also are nearly innumerable both the lesser craftsmen working for wages in workshops, and also the master craftsmen, who have come forth and daily come forth from this institution of abandoned poor -- in whose workshops, if you transact any business, you see everything conducted with absolute integrity, free from fraud and perjury, to the great advantage of those contracting and the example of Christian probity. Nor should this be left unmentioned: and the increase of the Catholic religion, how frequently they have given and most frequently give their names to sacred Orders, whose learning and probity is commended as very useful and fruitful to many parts of the Christian commonwealth. Therefore, although the education of the nobler classes certainly has distinguished and excellent outcomes (for it is of the greatest importance to the Commonwealth how rightly the nobility is formed in piety and virtue, whose influence and power in either direction is so great), yet the formation of the lowest and poorest is not without its fruit, nor is it compensated with ^a lesser reward before God. Indeed, more abundant fruits of piety and religion are sometimes gathered, even from slight cultivation, from the lowest and humblest, than from the diligent cultivation of the noble and wealthy, for this reason many of the holy Fathers have held; both because the wealthy and powerful seem to know or care for nothing except earthly things; while the poorer, less attached to human affairs, easily, having scorned these things, aspire with their whole heart to heavenly things and contemplate and desire them with ^a great sense of piety: and also because contempt of God and men almost invariably accompanies riches and nobility; while the humbler readily learn to worship the heavenly Deity with ^a purer devotion and to reverence His majesty: for these, not greatly desiring human things, eagerly seize upon divine things; which the nobler, with their minds occupied by the desire for human grandeur, utterly exclude: the love and pursuit of heavenly life easily attracts those poor despisers of inferior things; which afflicts with weariness and annoyance the powerful, who indulge their appetites for imaginary honors and preeminence (of which the nobility is especially desirous). Whence not undeservedly does divine goodness customarily pour out the riches of heavenly gifts with ^a more generous hand upon those whom it sees, with minds free from these things and wills detached, thirsting more ardently for heavenly things and being much more disposed to Christian discipline. For it matters greatly with how vacant and free ^a mind you approach God.

[42] For these reasons certainly, and very many others, no one should now wonder if the care of this abandoned offspring has perpetually been most dear to the heart of the greatest men and the holiest persons. after the example of Saint Zoticus, Among these, Saint Zoticus is regarded as the chief and originator of so pious and sacred an institution, who, flourishing at Rome with the distinguished praise of nobility and of all virtues, was brought with other leading men from Rome to Constantinople by the great Constantine Caesar to undertake the highest offices of the Empire, and there he was the first to take up the care of orphans, and having erected ^a community for them, he assigned his own house and established ^a definite manner of living. Whence by the rescript of the Emperors Leo and Anthemius to Dioscorus the Prefect, the memory of the holy man is commended in these words: "Zoticus of most blessed memory, who is said to have been the first to have invented offices of piety of this kind." And in both Greek and Latin records of the sacred calendars on the day before the first of January, the distinguished sanctity of the holy man and his pious work of charity are celebrated: so that this institution for the destitute poor is commended not ^a little also by the nobility and sanctity of its founder. Moreover, what Saint Zoticus did at Constantinople, the same was also accomplished in Galatia, with equal praise of piety, by Saint Clement, the Bishop and Martyr. Saint Clement of Ancyra, He, that great Clement, the pillar of martyrs and the terror of executioners, whose zeal for gathering orphans was kindled by the dire famine that then invaded Galatia: and although he was quite young, and had then just completed his twentieth year when he was inaugurated in the Bishopric of Ancyra, he did not abandon the institute of orphans. Indeed he also added this (which Jerome too provided at Somasca, and which is still received in practice in our Religious Order, with certain buildings assigned for the purpose): that besides the poor, he also received into his home, nourished, raised, and educated boys offered by the nobler families. In the same praise of piety, Saint Adalhard, of Saint Adalhard the Abbot, the grandson of Pepin the Great and the cousin of the Emperor Charlemagne, applied himself most keenly, who either introduced into the kingdom of Gaul, or recalled when it had fallen into disuse over time, ^a care for abandoned offspring: for having gathered orphan boys into one place, he allocated ^a distinguished domicile to them, and always presided over the work with such great piety that those whom he had assigned as ministers to this office, like ^a physician and parent of the poor, when he himself could not be present and perform the work with his own hands, he would most diligently instruct in the manner of preparing food, lest the health of the tender age be harmed. But this also must by no means be passed over in silence, which is most relevant to our subject: that Adalhard was ^a religious man and the Abbot of Corbie, so that it may appear that this institute is not alien to religious men. In Cyprus also, Saint Sophronius the Bishop and of Saint Sophronius the Bishop, was the patron of wards and orphans and ^a wonderful helper of all the poor, whose outstanding charity toward the poor is celebrated in the ecclesiastical calendar on the eighth of December. Nor indeed in all succeeding posterity were men outstanding in every kind of praise lacking who directed all their cares to the same work of piety, to whom divine goodness also added our Jerome in the past century and raised him up for the construction of such places throughout nearly all of Cisalpine Gaul: in which task how greatly divine mercy assisted him in the accomplishment of great things, the continuous narrative of the course of his life, set forth in the preceding books, has sufficiently declared.

a We gave the Life of Saint Clement of Ancyra on January 23.

b We illustrated the various Acts of Saint Adalhard on January 2.

CHAPTER VIII

The Distinguished Mortification of Jerome's Body, Which Is Accomplished by Penance and Poverty.

[43] True and genuine charity toward God and neighbors, and an assiduous zeal for prayer, are always accompanied by ^a distinguished mortification, and are perpetually united to them by an indissoluble bond: and not only that mortification which tames the insane appetites of the body and the unbridled motions of the senses; but also that which restrains and represses the elations of the spirit and the immoderate impulses of the mind: how complete both parts of mortification were in Jerome must now be related. And that we may first contemplate that which concerns the body, it is contained chiefly in penance and poverty, for the glory of which virtues Jerome was most illustrious: for he was indeed always very harsh toward himself and an altogether severe tamer of his senses and body. Austere in food and drink, For how harsh ^a manner of diet he adopted has been indicated more than once: for at the beginning of his conversion, since his food was of the least and most common kind, he then made such progress in the virtue of abstinence that, eating with the other household members, he would scarcely add anything of the cheapest kind of food to his bread: and in the last years of his life he progressed to the point that he lived on second-grade or even barley bread and cold water: and indeed he had grown so accustomed to so harsh an abstinence from food that he could not even bear the sight of more sumptuous foods: as evidence of which are the most abundant tears shed at the table at Scaini's house. Book 3, ch. 13 Which I certainly never remember without there coming to mind what is reported about Palemon, ^a monk of the Theban solitude, who, when he urged Pachomius his companion following the example of Saint Palemon, to prepare ^a somewhat more sumptuous meal than usual on the famous day of the Lord's Resurrection, the latter cooked ^a vegetable and seasoned it with oil and salt: but when the table was set, Palemon paused for ^a moment in suspense, groaned, and with these words let fall his tears: "My Lord was crucified and given gall and vinegar to drink, and shall I eat oil?" And when Pachomius begged him, as he wept profusely, to take food and to concede that luxury of oil not so much to himself as to the illustrious and greatest of all celebrations, he did not prevail; indeed the tears of Palemon won out, so that not even Pachomius tasted anything beyond bread with salt and cold water. With ^a similar ardor of abstinence, Jerome, remembering the most holy Crucified One, turned away from more splendid tables, and with ^a similar abundance of tears he even recalled others from the more sumptuous use of food on that day at Scaini's house. And indeed to this virtue of abstinence he was accustomed to form his household members above all and the rest who would place themselves under his discipline, by his own example and training, and he wished them everywhere to use frugal and simple food. So that I seem able to conclude everything of this kind about his institute in those very words of Saint Jerome, and of the monks of Egypt; which he says of the monks of the desert: "Of food and drink I say nothing, since even sick monks use cold water, and to have received anything cooked is ^a luxury."

[44] The same austerity of life accompanied him at rest: for although he sometimes used straw placed beneath him for sleeping, he sleeps on hard surfaces and sparingly: he afterward reached the point that, with his body stretched on the pavement, he would lie on bare stone, or (if it were necessary to rest ^a bit more comfortably) on some board, without removing his garments: and he would scarcely satisfy nature's need. Moreover, to rage upon himself with ^a merciless and savage whip, and not without blood, he rages on himself with whips: to tear his back and body hideously, was thoroughly habitual for him. But it would take far too long to recount how he would severely break that already so afflicted and bruised, feeble body with other labors and austerities of life besides: when he would subject it to the carrying of burdens, exhaust it with long journeys and travels from town to town. How often did they see the man hauling timber, stones, and sand? he breaks his body with continual labors, How often did they behold him in the fields, with no regard for cold or heat, filling the place of the rustics? All of which was aimed at subduing the body and wearing down the forces of the rebellious senses: which kind of mortification was also in use among those ancient holy Fathers, as even the one example of Macarius, the monk of Alexandria, teaches, who often carried on his shoulders ^a sack full of sand, as Saint Macarius of Alexandria: seeking nothing from it except extreme exhaustion: and when asked what he meant by that superfluous work, he excellently replied: "Unless I grievously afflict this body, my soul must be in jeopardy": Jerome seems to me plainly to resemble this Macarius, so inclined was he to the continual exhaustion of labors for subduing the forces of the body. And certainly, as I contemplate his labors, it often comes to mind to wonder what limbs, what robustness, what firm constitution of body and fitting articulation of members could have undergone so great ^a burden of labors: which could certainly seem to exceed human belief, were we not aware that pious endeavors of this kind are ^a concern of heaven.

[45] The inseparable sister and indivisible companion of his mortification is also poverty: which alone adorns with its retinue one who lacks very many comforts, even those necessary for sustaining life itself. In which kind, how greatly Jerome excelled, devoted to poverty, both for the special and never-ceasing exercise of this virtue and for the complete chastisement of the body, the entire course of his life, laid before the eyes of the readers, shows to such ^a degree that nothing more seems able to be added. Wherefore some things must be briefly touched upon here in summary, both those which pertain to the mortification of the body and those which relate to the perfect exercise of this virtue. And to speak of the first, he always contended with the utmost want of those things which are necessary for nourishing the body toward its mortification: and while he diligently acted with others so that they would come to the aid of the extreme misery of the poor, he procures more generous alms for others, not for himself: and would extract from public charity not inconsiderable subsidies of provisions for Christ's poor; yet he himself wished to undergo the common discomfort of poverty at his own particular disadvantage, namely from the stricter laws of mortification: for, distributing alms generously to others, he reserved for himself scarcely enough to meet the daily necessity of sustaining life: and the more that rare sense of another's misery prevailed with him, he travels on foot and without provision: and the horror of dire famine, the less he claimed for himself the means of life. Moreover, whatever journeys occurred, at any time of year, he would undertake on foot and equipped only with the provision of divine providence: wherever he arrived, he would lodge at the hospices he lodges at hospitals: or hospitals of the poor, preferring, that is, as ^a lover of both poverty and mortification, such uncomfortable and most vile lodgings to any residences of the noble. He used so poor and vile ^a garment he uses ^a vile garment that sometimes, as harsh winter progressed, his limbs seemed to be stiffened by the cold. And, to conclude in one word, to this very end, both at home and abroad, in furnishings and diet and all other things, he wished poverty above all to be preeminent, and furnishings, so that nowhere should the occasion for mortifying the body be lacking. And by this zeal he achieved the result that this virtue served not only for mortification: but also formed himself and others for the perfect image of evangelical poverty: whom he strove not to allow to rest at some low degree but to carry upward with himself to higher ones.

[46] It is pleasing here to set forth briefly how he wandered excellently through all the degrees of poverty. poor in affection, For first, with his will alienated from riches and every depraved affection of soul wiped away, by that interior contempt of riches he rightly deserves to be counted among those who are called in the first rank poor in spirit by the Lord, and to whom the possession of the kingdom of heaven is promised. in reality, having renounced all things, But he did not stop at the first rank in this order, but advanced to the next degree of poverty as well; so that, when that silent contempt of all goods, hidden in his breast, was at last made public and brought to light, he voluntarily stripped himself of his possessions and, divested of all his paternal inheritance, became the poorest follower of Christ. constantly, throughout his whole life, He also attained, in the third place, that which is very highly esteemed in the pursuit of poverty: that he added perpetuity to this voluntary renunciation of possessions: for having once tightly embraced it, he most diligently guarded it in every subsequent part of his life and retained it most sacredly with every office, always gladly preferring it even to the greatest wealth. For in that want of things he was so rich that he desired nothing; but in the midst of great riches so generous that he lavishly distributed everything to Christ's poor. But in one degree Jerome may perhaps seem lesser than the supreme height of evangelical poverty; whether bound by ^a vow: because whether he ever bound himself by the obligation of ^a vow to this manner of life is uncertain.

[47] However, in so ample ^a renunciation of goods as we have related of Jerome, there is ^a greater moment of voluntary poverty and ^a proof of ^a lofty soul raised above all human things than appears to one who looks superficially. having spurned the supreme pinnacle of honor, For it is perhaps not exceedingly difficult to renounce ^a private fortune, nor without some hope of ^a higher rank having been cast, to wish moreover to try the chance of ^a greater vow: but for ^a man born in the most illustrious Republic, with the breeze of the highest dignities and even the supreme principate in his own city flattering him to no avail, voluntarily to descend from that pinnacle of riches and honors, to cast aside every hope of the supreme summit, and to cast himself down to such vile and abject services of the poor; he seeks the lowest things, this is truly judged ^a deed to be wondered at and to be marveled at beyond the common prayers of mortals. Which easily brings to mind that great Gallicanus, imitating Saint Gallicanus, twice Consul, many times conqueror of barbarians, and the designated son-in-law of Constantine the Great. He, so many times the Commander of the Roman army, after the Thracians, Dacians, and Scythians had been subdued in war, nevertheless voluntarily gave up Constantina, the daughter of the great Emperor Constantine, who had been destined for him by the promises of betrothal, together with an immense mass of wealth; and withdrawing to Ostia on the Tiber, he attached himself to the holy man Hilarinus and devoted himself entirely to the hospitality of the poor and the service of the sick, judging it far more glorious for himself to be subject to the heavenly warfare than to preside over the Roman, and more salutary to mingle with Christ's poor than to stand in the first place after the Emperor in the court: wherefore he performed the office of ^a servant in private houses as ardently as he had formerly done in the camps that of ^a Commander and General; nor was he formerly more eager for military glory than he was afterward zealous for the most abject poverty: to whom our Jerome may seem not very dissimilar in so distinguished ^a contempt of human things and in self-deprecation. But just as the voluntary poverty of Gallicanus and his piety toward Christ's poor had its admirers, with the great admiration of those who came, when the fame of so great an event, spread more widely throughout the world, drew many from all parts to gaze upon the man who, from ^a Patrician and Consul, was washing the feet of the poor, setting the table, pouring water on their hands, solicitously ministering to the sick, and performing all the other offices of holy servitude; so too in his own time Jerome did not lack those whom the rumor of his virtue, spreading broadly on the lips of men, invited even to the retreat of his Somascan solitude, to be spectators of such poverty and piety. Moreover, in that most abject condition of affairs (to add this also in the last place), what he rendered in the service of the poor is worthy of no less praise, assuredly, than what we see lavished by the vain lovers of wealth in the interest of luxury and pleasure from the height of affluence. They raised villas, palaces, baths, theaters, and other buildings resting on insane substructures and supported by enormous columns, with ^a profusion of riches as foolish as it was lavish: but Jerome, kindled not by the breath of worldly acclaim but by the zeal of poverty and devoted to the service of the poor, raised humble huts, provided lodgings for the wretched, opened many schools everywhere for the exercise of piety and charity, in which he daily delivered most useful and fruitful lectures on these virtues, expounded not in ^a polished style of speech and with an elaborate pomp of words, but expressed by the constant labors and discomforts of harsh penance and poverty, which bore witness to ^a not ordinary mortification of his body, with ^a brilliant display of piety, to mortals.

a We treated Saint Palemon on January 11.

b Saint Pachomius is venerated on May 14.

c We gave the Acts of this Macarius on January 2.

d In the years 317 and 330. Saint Gallicanus is venerated on June 25.

CHAPTER IX

His Interior Mortification, Which Consists in Humble Self-Denial and Obedience.

[48] But I come now to the other part of mortification; which is accustomed to break the desires of the soul and to repress the elation of the inner spirit by ^a humble contempt of self and by obedience, in ^a truly arduous and difficult contest, so that you cannot easily count examples of this victory everywhere: for very many, following that famous Aristo of Chios, have rather devoted themselves to the pursuits of their own praise and glory than to true virtue. Yet no lesser proofs of this virtue than of the rest are available in Jerome: for that one thing was habitual to him, to lower himself beneath all, to despise himself before all; Very humble most anxious lest the ship, laden with the merchandise of great virtues, should ever be wretchedly swallowed up by the waves of pride, having struck upon the hidden rocks of self-exaltation. in his bodily appearance, The narration will perhaps seem rather tedious if I pursue each degree of humility and self-denial; therefore I shall touch upon only ^a few things of this kind, from which the judgment of the rest will be easy. The very appearance of the man, when it first met the eye, was ^a not obscure sign of humility: and both his domestic and external exercises revealed the same virtue. and in the most vile exercises, For at home he would extend himself to the most abject and laborious ministries with ^a zeal and promptness for every duty, even without being asked: this was customary for him -- to assist the cook, to perform the menial services of the kitchen, to carry water and wood, to thoroughly clean the dishes and plates, and, with his sleeves rolled up, to wash the dirty pots and kettles with hot water with his own hand, to sweep the refuse of the floors, to occupy himself entirely in the service of even the lowest: so that, being the Prelate in office over the rest, having exchanged the office with them, he would fulfill their ministries: you would have called him the servant and attendant of the rest, or rather their drudge. courteous in conversation, Moreover, in common and daily interaction he was accustomed to address all courteously and to speak affably to even the lowest: and by nothing did he more attract so many to himself than by that mild and sweet manner of speaking. The poor and needy, moreover, he honored with special regard, desiring to do all things for their sake; even of the poor, because in them he recognized ^a certain singular image of Christ the Lord, who, though He was rich, for our sake became poor.

[49] If at any time he had erred in something (which in this life of contagion is easily done), he would not stubbornly defend the error, outstanding in acknowledging his own errors, nor studiously conceal it, but would confess it as most grave and promise amendment: often, in the dining hall, with the rest sitting around him, when he would beg pardon for his faults, he would do so with such ^a depth of feeling and display of grief as if they had truly been most grave: yet they were either nonexistent or certainly of the kind against which human frailty can never be sufficiently on guard. But this shadowy exercise of virtue has perhaps less splendor and proof; more brilliant and illustrious is that which was observed by entire cities: when, laden with sacks, he would go out into the public to collect common charity: in which circumstance, lest there should be any suspicion of feigned humility, there were added the reproaches, gibes, and insults of the senseless mob; from which he derived no annoyance but rather much delight, he cheerfully bears insults, with Saint Francis: certainly ^a great proof of ^a mastered inner sense. Famous was once that device of Saint Francis against the growing fame of his sanctity (when it was daily spreading more widely among the common people and becoming more celebrated on men's lips): lest any pleasure of vainglory should steal into his soul, he gave the task to ^a certain most sharp-tongued man to assail his life and character with every insolence of words: the man did not cease to press him relentlessly though he was willing; indeed we know that insults were sought and heaped upon him somewhat more harshly and bitterly than was seemly: but Jerome too always cherished this same remedy against the elation of the soul as wonderful, he who was ^a follower of holy humility and mortification; for whom no sweeter music existed than the noble proclamation of abuse and injuries. Moreover, how gentle he showed himself to one who provoked and inflicted injury has been sufficiently explained, when to the man threatening to pull out his beard he offered himself with so unusual ^a proof of meekness.

[50] he strives to remove from himself the supreme authority among his own, This also must be counted among the more notable marks of humility and abjection: to seek the lowest places, to reject honors offered, to decline the highest offices. He governed the assembly of the rest at first by authority rather than by command, and he desired to relieve himself of that burden: and when the rest refused, he nevertheless declined the first rank as long as he could; and he resisted so long until, overcome by the demands of all, he yielded his resolve so as to cease finally being asked and refusing: yet he always most steadfastly retained this practice, that when, since he could not avoid the first place, at least when all the names were to be written down, he would always write himself in the third place and would place at least two before himself: and this the most ancient autographs written in his own hand still show, in which we read that Alessandro of Milan and Agostino of Bergamo were placed before him. To this also wonderfully contributes what we have elsewhere inquired: why, that is, he preferred the retreat of villages and solitude to great cities. he avoids larger cities For while I omit for the present that reason which could have been common to him and other holy men, who most gladly exchanged cities full of enticements, as incentives to sin, for the desert; in which kind the most illustrious report is of Saint Benedict, who, as Saint Benedict left Rome: having left Rome along with his studies, preferred to be ^a contemplator of heavenly things in the solitude rather than ^a student of secular studies in that city: yet the chief parts of this decision of Jerome's seem to be claimed both by charity toward his neighbors and by contempt of himself.

[51] He saw that the rude and rustic people were greatly in need of teachers of Christian doctrine, he teaches rustic people after the example of Saint Pachomius: of whom there was no lack in the cities; therefore he most gladly betook himself to them, perhaps after the example of Pachomius the monk, who, observing that the farmers of the neighboring village, ignorant of heavenly things, were absent from divine worship and only devoted their effort to feeding their cattle, was greatly distressed, and without delay betook himself to them and established ^a little hut among them, and did not depart before he had taught them to fear God, to believe in Christ, and to live piously and innocently. But this should perhaps be better attributed to the man's singular humility and self-contempt; who, he loves solitude; considering himself the most worthless of all mortals and utterly unworthy of that frequent society of men, was looking around for hiding places, solitudes, and the dark recesses of mountains. But he whom humility drove away from the company of men, charity afterward recalled, he abandons this for the salvation of others, and compelled him from time to time to return to the company of men for the sake of spiritual instruction. Just as one who has emerged from the peril of the sea, and is now received in the very harbor, if he sees any struggling in shipwreck, again commits himself to the waves to bring aid to those laboring in the deep; so likewise Jerome, holding the salvation of others, indeed, more precious than his own rest.

[52] It remains now, in the last place, to explain his obedience; which we have shown should not be separated from the mortification of the soul. To which virtue (as far as was possible) Jerome always offered himself prepared and eager, perfectly obedient, with ^a complete abdication of his own judgment and ^a most ready will. But since he presided over the others as their Moderator, at first to the directors of his conscience, he was able to give fewer examples of this kind. At the beginning of his conversion, with what ardent zeal for compliance he committed and entirely subjected himself to the director of his spiritual life, we have reported in its proper place. And when he afterward placed himself under the discipline of Carafa also, he so depended upon his direction that, without consulting him, he would not attempt even the slightest thing. To indicate ^a specimen of so great ^a virtue, I shall subjoin this one thing, from which the prudent reader may form ^a conjecture about the rest. especially to Carafa, When at Salo, Stefano Bertazzolo had read aloud several chapters from the Meditations of Saint Augustine, with Jerome listening, that reading had filled Jerome with so great an ardor of piety that he warmly praised and commended the little book as exceedingly useful and fruitful: this prompted Stefano to offer the book to Jerome as ^a gift: but Jerome, while warmly praising the generous spirit of the giver, was altogether declining the favor: but when, as he hesitated to accept, the other pressed more ardently with entreaties, Jerome at last consented and promised that he would accept the offered gift on this condition: that letters be written about the matter to Carafa, and that he too should give his consent; lest, that is, he should seem to have sinned in any way against the rights of holy obedience for that reason. But after his departure from Carafa, when he visited various places and prepared new quarters for the poor; and to Bishops, he so subjected himself and all his affairs to the diocesan Bishops and their Vicars that he directed everything according to their judgment. If it was in his mind to leave the city and to imbue the villagers and rustic people with the precepts of Christian doctrine; he would not undertake this unless with the approving blessing of the Bishop. He never either sought the cities or returned from them to Somasca without wishing to be fortified at least by the blessing and permission of the Vicar. Indeed, when he went from Bergamo to Milan to attend to the community for orphans, Carafa asserts that this was done by him only with the Bishop's permission. From which it is manifestly clear that he was so inflamed with the zeal for holy obedience that, when the occasions for exercising it were lacking to him among his own as the moderator of the rest, he would most zealously seek them out among outsiders.

a Saint Francis is venerated on October 4.

b We shall treat of Saint Benedict on March 21.

CHAPTER X

His Bodily Form and Figure.

[53] Thus far, as my powers have allowed, I have tried to set forth the interior image of Jerome's soul, that is, to express the likeness of perfect virtue and the excellent example of Christian discipline: and with that part sketched in four books, it is pleasing also to hand down the very form of his body, the features of his face, and his countenance, in this final conclusion of the work. They have reported that he was of ^a stature somewhat above the common, he was of above-average stature, with black hair, and ^a venerable countenance, and excellently formed in the whole mass of his body, black of hair and eyebrow, but in such ^a way that, with the thick and dense growth of hair running together, the eyebrows nearly met above the nose in one: with rather large and lively eyes, and ^a countenance altogether venerable and full of majesty -- so those reported who were closest to Jerome, and who drew this either from those who had observed the living image or could contemplate the recent portraits of that age, which deviated very little from the truth: but it is very difficult, with features consumed over so long ^a time, to restore them with the pen as with ^a brush. Yet that there was much dignity in his face and countenance, wasted with the emaciation of age so that I may very strongly agree, is supported by ^a very ancient portrait of the man still surviving at Venice among the Emiliani, his kinsmen (which ^a painter perhaps painted from the living face), which shows him with ^a beard and chin, at ^a mature age, as ^a man distinguished with that dignity of aspect which they report. The subsequent years added gray hair, and the rigor of penance added emaciation and pallor, but without diminishing the majesty of his countenance and the authority of his brow. There is still to be seen at Brescia, on the top floor of the building, the figure of the man, already old, rendered in rough and inelegant workmanship, and nearly consumed by the decay of time: yet from so distant ^a memory it has transmitted to this day the man's aspect, full of gravity.

[54] But what Jerome's face was, and how closely the painters have expressed it, I do not greatly trouble myself about. That one thing is what most concerns and urges me, standing now at the finish line of the work, Epilogue of the author, that we who are all descended from Jerome should at last, by our life and conduct, faithfully reproduce that interior image of his soul, radiant with such brilliant lights of virtue, and more fully set forth by me in these books for this very purpose.