31 AUGUST – SAINT RAYMUND NONNATUS (Bishop and Confessor)

Raymund, surnamed Nonnatus on account of his having been brought into the world in an unusual manner after the death of his mother, was of a pious and noble family of Portelli in Catalonia. Raymund was born in about 1200 AD. From his very infancy he showed signs of his future holiness for, despising childish amusements and the attractions of the world, he applied himself to the practice of piety so that all wondered at his virtue, which far surpassed his age. As he grew older he began his studies, but after a short time he returned at his father’s command to live in the country. He frequently visited the chapel of Saint Nicholas near Portelli to venerate in it a holy image of the Mother of God, which is still much honoured by the faithful. There he would pour out his prayers, begging God’s holy Mother to adopt him for her son and to deign to teach him the way of salvation and the science of the saints.

The most benign Virgin heard his prayer and gave him to understand that it would greatly please her if he entered the religious Order lately founded by her inspiration, under the name of the Order of ‘Ransom, or of Mercy for the redemption of captives.’ Upon this Raymund at once set out for Barcelona, there to embrace that institute so full of brotherly charity. Thus enrolled in the army of holy religion, he persevered in perpetual virginity, which he had already consecrated to the blessed Virgin. He excelled also in every other virtue, most especially in charity towards those Christians who were living in misery as slaves of the pagans. He was sent to Africa to redeem them, and freed many from slavery. But when he had exhausted his money, rather than abandon others who were in danger of losing their faith, he gave himself up to the barbarians as a pledge for their ransom. Burning with a most ardent desire for the salvation of souls, be converted several Muslims to Christ by his preaching. On this account he was thrown into a close prison, and after many tortures his lips were pierced through and fastened together with an iron padlock, which cruel martyrdom he endured for a long time.

This and his other noble deeds spread the fame of his sanctity far and near, so that Gregory IX determined to enrol him in the august college of the cardinals of the holy Roman Church. When raised to that dignity the man of God shrank from all pomp and clung always to religious humility. On his way to Rome, as soon as he reached Cardona, he was attacked by his last illness, and earnestly begged to be strengthened by the Sacraments of the Church. As his illness grew worse and the priest delayed to come, angels appeared, clothed in the religious habit of his Order, and refreshed him with the saving Viaticum. Having received It he gave thanks to God, and passed to our Lord on the last Sunday of August in 1240. Contentions arose concerning the place where he should be buried. His coffin was therefore placed upon a blind mule and by the will of God it was taken to the chapel of Saint Nicholas, that it might be buried in that place where he had first begun a more perfect life. A convent of his Order was built on the spot, and there famous for many signs and miracles he is honoured by the concourse of all the faithful of Catalonia, who come there to fulfil their vows.

Dom Prosper Gueranger:

August closes as it began, with a feast of deliverance, as though that were the divine seal set by eternal Wisdom upon this month — the mouth when holy Church makes the works and ways of divine Wisdom the special object of her contemplation.

Upon the fall of our first parents and their expulsion from Paradise, the Word and Wisdom of God, that is, the second Person of the blessed Trinity, began the great work of our deliverance —that magnificent work of human redemption which, by an all-gracious, eternal decree of the three divine Persons, was to be wrought out by the Son of God in our flesh. And as that blessed Saviour, in His infinite wisdom, made spontaneous choice of sorrows, of sufferings, and of death on a cross, as the best means of our redemption, so has He always allotted to His best loved friends, the kind of life which He had deliberately chosen for Himself, that is, the way of the cross. And the nearest and dearest to Him were those who were predestined, like His blessed Mother, the Mater Dolorosa, to have the honour of being most like Himself, the Man of sorrows. Hence the toils and trials of the greatest saints. Hence the great deliverances wrought by them, and their heroic victories over the world and over the spirits of wickedness in the high places.

On the feasts of Saints Raymund of Pegnafort and Peter Nolasco we saw something of the origin of the illustrious Order to which Raymund Nonnatus added such glory. Soon the august foundress herself, our Lady of Mercy, will come in person to receive the expression of the world’s gratitude for so many benefits.

TO what a length, O illustrious saint, did you follow the counsel of the wise man! ‘The bands of wisdom,’ says he, ‘are a healthful binding’ (Ecclesiasticus vi. 31). And, not satisfied with putting ‘your feet into her fetters and your neck into her chains,’ (Ecclesiasticus vi. 25), in the joy of you love you offered your lips to the dreadful padlock, not mentioned by the son of Sirach. But what a reward is yours now that this Wisdom of the Father, whose twofold precept of charity you so fully carried out, inebriates you with the torrent of eternal delights, adorning your brow with the glory and grace which radiate from her own beauty! We would fain be forever with you near that throne of light. Teach us, then, how to walk, in this world, by the beautiful ways and peaceable paths of Wisdom. Deliver our souls, if they be still captive in sin. Break the chains of our self-love, and give us instead those blessed bands of Wisdom which are humility, abnegation, self-forgetfulness, love of our brethren for God’s sake, and love of God for His own sake.

Also on this day according to the ROMAN MARTYROLOGY:

At Treves, the birthday of St. Paulimis, a bishop, who was exiled for the Catholic faith by the Arian emperor Constantius in the time of the Arian persecution. By having to change the place of his exile which was beyond the limits of Christendom, he became wearied unto death, and finally, dying in Phrygia, received a crown from the Lord for his blessed martyrdom.

Also the holy martyrs Robustian and Mark.

At Transaquae, among the Marsi near lake Celano, the birthday of the holy martyrs Cresidius, priest, and his companions, who were crowned with martyrdom in the persecution of Maximinus.

At Caesarea in Cappadocia, the Saints Theodotus, Rufina and Ammia. The first two were the parents of the martyr St. Mamas, who was born in prison, and who Ammia brought up.

At Athens, St. Aristides, most celebrated for his faith and wisdom, who presented to the emperor Hadrian a treatise on the Christian religion containing the exposition of our doctrine. In the presence of the emperor he also delivered a discourse in which he clearly demonstrated that Jesus Christ is the only God.

At Auxerre, St. Optatus, bishop and confessor.

In England, St. Aidan, bishop of Lindisfarne. When St. Cuthbert, then a shepherd, saw his soul going up to heaven, he left his sheep and became a monk.

At Nusco, St. Amatus, bishop.

On Mount Senario near Florence, blessed Bonajuncta, confessor, one of the seven founders of the Order of the Servites of the Blessed Virgin Mary, who gave up his soul into the hands of the Lord while discoursing to his brethren on the Passion of Our Saviour.

And in other places, many other holy martyrs, confessors and virgins.

Thanks be to God.

30 AUGUST – SAINT ROSE OF LIMA (Virgin)

The patron saint of the Americas was born at Lima in Peru in 1586. From her very cradle she gave clear signs of her future holiness. Her baby face appeared one day changed in a wonderful way into the image of a rose, and from this circumstance she was called Rose. Later on the Virgin Mother of God gave her also her own name, bidding her to be called thenceforward Rose of Saint Mary. At five years of age she made a vow of perpetual virginity, and when she grew older, fearing her parents would compel her to marry she secretly cut off her hair which was very beautiful. Her fasts exceeded the strength of human nature. She would pass whole Lents without eating bread, living on five grains of a citron a day. She took the habit of the third Order of Saint Dominic and after that redoubled her austerities. Her long and rough hair-shirt was armed with steel points, and day and night she wore under her veil a crown studded inside with sharp nails. Following the arduous example of Saint Catherine of Siena, she wound an iron chain three times round her waist and made herself a bed of the knotty trunks of trees, filling up the vacant space between them with potsherds.

Rose built herself a narrow little cell in a distant corner of the garden, and there devoted herself to the contemplation of heavenly things, subduing her feeble body by iron disciplines, fasting and watching. Thus she was strong in spirit, and continually overcame the devils, spurning and dispelling their deceits. Though she suffered greatly from severe illnesses, from the insults offered her by her family and from unkind tongues, yet she would say that she was not treated as badly as she deserved. For fifteenth years she suffered for several hours a day a terrible desolation and dryness of spirit, but she bore this suffering, worse than death itself, with undaunted courage. After that period she was given an abundance of heavenly delights, she was honoured with visions, and felt her heart melting with seraphic love. Her Angel-Guardian, Saint Catherine of Siena and our Lady used often to appear to her with wonderful familiarity. She was privileged to bear these words from our Lord: “Rose of my heart, be my bride.” Rose died at the age of 31 years in 1617. She was beatified by Pope Clement IX, in 1667 and canonised by Pope Clement X in 1671.

Dom Prosper Guéranger:

The fragrance of holiness is wafted today across the dark ocean, renewing the youth of the Old World and winning for the New the good will of Heaven and Earth.

A century before the birth of Saint Rose, Spain, having cast out the Crescent from her own territory, received as a reward the mission of planting the Cross on the distant shores of America. Neither heroes nor apostles were wanting in the Catholic kingdom for the great work. But there was also, unhappily, no lack of adventurers who in their thirst for gold became the scourge of the poor Indians instead of leading them to the true God. The speedy decadence of the illustrious nation that had triumphed over the Moors was soon to prove how far a people, prevented with the greatest blessings, may yet be answerable for crimes committed by Its individual representatives. It is well known how the empire of the Incas in Peru came to an end. In spite of the indignant protestations of the missionaries: in spite of orders received from the mother country: in a few years, Pizarro and his companions had exterminated one third of the inhabitants of these flourishing regions. Another third perished miserably under a slavery worse than death. The rest fled to the mountains, carrying with them a hatred of the invaders, and too often of the Gospel as well, which in their eyes was responsible for atrocities committed by Christians. Avarice opened the door to all vices in the souls of the conquerors without, however, destroying their lively faith. Lima, founded at the foot of the Cordilleras as metropolis of the subjugated provinces, seemed as if built upon the triple concupiscence. Before the close of the century, a new Jonas, Saint Francis Solano, .came to threaten this new Niniveh with the anger of God.

But mercy had already been beforehand with wrath. “Justice and peace had met” (Psalm lxxxiv. 11) in the soul of a child who was ready, in her insatiable love, to suffer every expiation. Here we should like to pause and contemplate the virgin of Peru, in her self-forgetful heroism, in her pure and candid gracefulness: Rose, who was all sweetness to those who approached her, and who kept to herself the secret of the thorns without which no rose can grow on Earth. This child of predilection was prevented from her infancy with miraculous gifts and favours. The flowers recognised her as their queen, and at her desire they would blossom out of season. At her invitation the plants joyfully waved their leaves, the trees bent down their branches, all nature exulted. Even the insects formed themselves into choirs. The birds vied with her in celebrating the praises of their common Maker. She herself, playing upon the names of her parents, Gaspard Flores and Maria Oliva, would sing: “O my Jesus, how beautiful you are among the olives and the flowers, and you do not disdain your Rose!”

Eternal Wisdom has from the beginning delighted to play in the world (Proverbs viii. 30, 31). Clement X relates, in the Bull of Canonization, how one day when Rose was very ill, the infant Jesus appeared and deigned to play with her, teaching her, in a manner suited to her tender age, the value and the advantages of suffering. He then left her full of joy, and endowed with a life-long love of the cross. Holy Church will tell us, in the Legend, how far the Saint carried out, in her rigorous penance, the lesson thus divinely taught. In the superhuman agonies of her last illness, when some one exhorted her to courage, she replied: “All I ask of my Spouse is that He will not cease to bum me with the most scorching heat till I become a ripe fruit that He will deign to cull from this Earth for His heavenly table.” To those who were astonished at her confidence and her assurance of going straight to Heaven, she gave this answer which well expresses her character: “I have a Spouse who can do all that is greatest, and who possesses all that is rarest, and am I to expect only little things from Him?” And her confidence was rewarded. She was but thirty-one years of age when, at midnight on the feast of St. Bartholomew in 1617, she heard the cry: “Behold the Bridegroom comes!”

In Lima, in all Peru, and indeed throughout America, prodigies of conversion and miracles signalised the death of the humble virgin, hitherto so little known. “It has been juridically proved,” said the Sovereign Pontiff, “that since the discovery of Peru no missionary has been known to obtain so universal a movement of repentance.” Five years later, for the further sanctification of Lima, there was established in its midst the monastery of Saint Catherine of Siena, also called Rose’s monastery because she was in the eyes of God its true foundress and mother. Her prayers had obtained its erection, which she had also predicted. She had designed the plan, pointed out the future religious, and named the first superior, whom she one day prophetically endowed with her own spirit in a mysterious embrace.

O Saint Rose, teach us to let ourselves be prevented, like you, by the dew of Heaven. Show us how to respond to the advances of the divine sculptor who one day allowed you to see Him making over to His loved ones the different virtues in the form of blocks of choice marble, which He expects them to polish with their tears, and to fashion with the chisel of penance. Above all, fill us with love and confidence. All that the material sun accomplishes in the vast universe, causing the flowers to bloom, ripening the fruits, forming pearls in the depth of the ocean, and precious stones in the heart of the mountains: all this, you said, your divine Spouse effected in the boundless capacity of your soul, causing it to bring forth every variety of riches, beauty and joy, warmth and life. May we profit, as you did, of the coming of the Sun of Justice into our hearts in the Sacrament of union. May we lay open our whole being to the influence of his blessed light and may we become, in every place, the good odour of Christ.

Also on this day according to the ROMAN MARTYROLOGY:

At Rome, on the Via Ostiensis, the martyrdom of the blessed priest Felix under the emperors Diocletian and Maximian in 304 AD. After being racked he was sentenced to death, and as he was being led to his execution he was met by a stranger, who was so moved by the sight that he cried out, “I also confess the same law as this man. I confess the same Jesus Christ and I am ready to lay down my life in witness of these truths.” The stranger was seized, tried and sentenced to death. His name was never known, so he was called Adauctus because he had joined himself to Felix to share his crown of martyrdom.

Also at Rome, St. Gaudentia, virgin and martyr, with three others.

In the same city, St. Pammachius, a priest distinguished for learning and holiness.

At Colonia Suffetulana in Africa, sixty blessed martyrs who were murdered by furious Gentiles.

At Adrumetum in Africa, the Saints Boniface and Thecla, who were the parents of twelve blessed sons, martyrs.

At Thessalonica, St. Fantinus, confessor, who suffered much from the Saracens, and was driven from his monastery in which he had lived in great abstinence. After having brought many to the way of salvation he rested at last at an advanced age.

In the diocese of Meaux, St. Fiacre, confessor.

At Trevi, St. Peter, confessor, who was distinguished for many virtues and miracles. He is honoured in that place, from which he departed for heaven.

At Bologna, St. Bononius, abbot.

And in other places, many other holy martyrs, confessors and virgins.

Thanks be to God.

29 AUGUST – THE DECOLLATION OF SAINT JOHN THE BAPTIST

Gospel – Mark vi. 17‒29

At that time, Herod sent and apprehended John, and bound him in prison for the sake of Herodias, the wife of Philip his brother, because he had married her. For John said to Herod, “it is not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife.” Now Herodias laid snares for him, and was desirous to put him to death, and could not. For Herod feared John, knowing him to be a just and holy man, and kept him, and when he heard him did many things, and he heard him willingly. And when a convenient day was come, Herod made a supper for his birthday, for the princes, and tribunes, and chief men of Galilee. And when the daughter of the same Herodias had come in, and had danced, and pleased Herod, and them that were at table with him, the king said to the damsel, “Ask of me what you will, and I will give it you.” And he swore to her,” Whatever you will ask, I will give you, though it be the half of my kingdom.” Who, when she was gone out, said to her mother, “What shall I ask?” But she said, “the head of John the Baptist.” And when she was come in immediately with haste to the king, she asked, saying, “I will that forthwith you give me in a dish the head of John the Baptist.” And the king was struck sad. Yet because of his oath, and because of them who were with him at table he would not displease her. But sending an executioner he commanded that his head should be brought in a dish. And he beheaded him in the prison, and brought his head in a dish, and gave it to the damsel, and the damsel gave it to her mother. Which this his disciples hearing, came and took his body and laid it in a tomb.

Praise be to you, O Christ.

Dom Prosper Guéranger:

Thus died the greatest of them that are born of women: without witnesses, the prisoner of a petty tyrant, the victim of the vilest of passions, the wages of a dancing girl! Rather than keep silence in the presence of crime, although there was no hope of converting the sinner or give up his liberty, even when in chains: the herald of the Word made flesh was ready to die. How beautiful, as Saint John Chrysostom remarks, is this liberty of speech when it is truly the liberty of God’s Word, when it is an echo of Heaven’s language! Then, indeed, it is a stumbling-block to tyranny, the safeguard of the world and of God’s rights, the bulwark of a nation’s honour as well as of its temporal and eternal interests. Death has no power over it. To the weak murderer of John the Baptist, and to all who would imitate him to the end of time, a thousand tongues instead of one, repeat in all languages and in all places: “It is not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife.”

“O great and admirable mystery!” cries out Saint Augustine. “He must increase, but I must decrease, said John, said the Voice which personified all the voices that had gone before announcing the Father’s Word Incarnate in his Christ. Every word, in that it signifies something, in that it is an idea, an internal word, is independent of the number of syllables, of the various letters and sounds. It remains unchangeable in the heart that conceives it, however numerous may be the words that give it outward existence, the voices that utter it, the languages, Greek, Latin and the rest, into which it may be translated. To him who knows the word, expressions and voices are useless. The Prophets were voices, the Apostles were voices. Voices are in the Psalms, voices in the Gospel. But let the Word come, the Word who was in the beginning, the Word who was with God, the Word who was God. When we will see Him as He is, will we hear the Gospel repeated? Will we listen to the Prophets? Will we read the Epistles of the Apostles? The Voice fails where the Word increases... Not that in Himself the Word can either diminish or increase. But He is said to grow in us, when we grow in Him. To him, then, who draws near to Christ, to him who makes progress in the contemplation of Wisdom, words are of little use. Of necessity they tend to fail altogether. Thus the ministry of the voice falls short in proportion as the soul progresses towards the Word. It is thus that Christ must increase and John decrease. The same is indicated by the decollation of John, and the exaltation of Christ upon the Cross, as it had already been shown by their birthdays for, from the birth of John the days begin to shorten, and from the birth of our Lord they begin to grow longer.”

The holy Doctor here gives a useful lesson to those who guide souls along the path of perfection. If, from the very beginning, they must respectfully observe the movements of grace in each of them in order to second the Holy Ghost and not to supplant him, so also in proportion as these souls advance, the directors must be careful not to impede the Word by the abundance of their own speech. Moreover, they must discreetly respect the ever-growing powerlessness of those souls to express what our Lord is working in them. Happy to have led the bride to the Bridegroom, let them learn to say with John: “He must increase, but I must decrease.”

The sacred cycle itself seems to convey to us too a similar lesson for, during the following days, we will see its teaching as it were tempered down, by the fewness of the feasts and the disappearance of great solemnities until November. The school of the holy Liturgy aims at adapting the soul more surely and more fully than could any other school to the interior teaching of the Spouse. Like John, the Church would be glad to let God alone speak always, if that were possible here below. At least, towards the end of the way, she loves to moderate her voice, and sometimes even to keep silence, in order to give her children an opportunity of showing that they know how to listen inwardly to Him who is both her and their sole love. Let those who interpret her thought first understand it well. The friend of the Bridegroom, who, until the Nuptial day walked before him, now stands and listens. And the voice of the Bridegroom, which silences his own, fills him with immense joy: “This my joy therefore is fulfilled,” said the Precursor (John iii. 29).

Thus the feast of the Decollation of Saint John may be considered as one of the landmarks of the Liturgical Year. With the Greeks it is a holiday of obligation. Its great antiquity in the Latin Church is evidenced by the mention made of it in the Martyrology called Saint Jerome’s, and by the place it occupies in the Gelasian and Gregorian Sacramentaries. The Precursor’s blessed death took place about the feast of the Pasch, but that it might be more freely celebrated, this day was chosen on which his sacred head was discovered at Emesa.

The vengeance of God fell heavily upon Herod Antipas. Josephus relates bow he was overcome by the Arabian Aretea, whose daughter he had repudiated in order to follow his wicked passions, and the Jews attributed the defeat to the murder of Saint John. He was deposed by Rome from his tetrarchate, and banished to Lyons in Gaul, where the ambitious Herodias shared his disgrace. As to her dancing daughter Salome, there is a tradition gathered from ancient authors that, having gone out one winter day to dance on a frozen river, she fell through into the water. The ice, immediately closing round her neck, cut off her head, which bounded upon the surface, thus continuing for some moments the dance of death.

From Macherontis, beyond the Jordan, where their master had suffered martyrdom, John’s disciples carried his body to Sebaste (Samaria), out of the territory of Antipas. It was necessary to save it from the profanations of Herodias who had not spared his august head. The wretched woman did not think her vengeance complete till she had pierced with a hairpin the tongue that had not feared to utter her shame. And that face, which for seven centuries the church of Amiens has offered to the veneration of the world, still bears traces of the violence inflicted by her in her malicious triumph. In the reign of Julian the Apostate, the pagans wished to complete the work of this unworthy descendant of the Machabees by opening the Saint’s tomb at Sebaste in order to burn and scatter his remains. But the empty sepulchre continued to be a terror to the demons, as Saint Paula attested with deep emotion a. few years later. Moreover, some of precious relics were saved, and dispersed throughout the East. Later on, especially at the time of the Crusades, they were brought into the West where many churches glory in possessing them.

Also on this day according to the ROMAN MARTYROLOGY:

At Rome, on the Aventine Hill, the birthday of St. Sabina, martyr. Sabina, the daughter of Herod Metallarius and wife of the Roman senator Valentinus, was converted to Christianity by her young female Greek slave Serapia. For this Serapia was condemned to death and was executed in 119 AD. Sabina took her body and buried it. Sabina, in turn, was brought before Hadrian and was martyred in 126 AD. At first the bodies of Saints Sabina and Serapia were buried in the Vindician field, but in 430 AD their relics were translated to the Basilica built on the Aventine.

Also at Rome, St. Candida, virgin and martyr, whose body was transferred to the church of St. Praxedes by Pope Paschal I.

At Antioch in Syria, the birthday of the holy martyrs Nicaeas and Paul.

At Constantinople, the holy martyrs Hypatius, an Asiatic bishop, and Andrew, a priest, who for the worship of holy images, under Leo the Isaurian, after having their beards besmirched with pitch and set on fire, and the skin of their heads torn off, were beheaded.

At Perugia, St. Euthymius, a Roman, who fled from the persecution of Diocletian with his wife and his son Crescentius, and there rested in the Lord.

At Metz, St. Adelphus, bishop and confessor.

At Paris, the demise of St. Merry, priest.

In England, St. Sebbi, king.

At Smyrna, the birthday of St. Basilla.

In the vicinity of Troyes, St. Sabina, a virgin, celebrated for virtues and miracles.

And in other places, many other holy martyrs, confessors and virgins.

Thanks be to God.

28 AUGUST – SAINT AUGUSTINE OF HIPPO (Bishop, Confessor and Doctor)

Augustine (Aurelius Augustinus) was born in the northern African city of Tagaste (now in Algeria) in 354. He was signed with the cross by his pious and virtuous Christian mother and enrolled as a catachumen. Aa a child he was so apt in learning that in a short time he far surpassed in knowledge all those of his own age. After recovering from a serious illness he deferred being baptised into the faith. He moved to Carthage to study there, took a mistress who bore him a son and embraced Manichaeism, a Persian gnostic religion which Pope Saint Leo I (Leo the Great) described as “a general compound of all errors and ungodlinesses.” Manichaeism spread quickly and widely in the fourth century.

His studies completed, he returned to Tagaste to teach grammar but soon afterwards went back to Carthage to teach rhetoric. After writing a work on aesthetics he began to doubt and repudiate Manichaeism which claimed that the Christian scriptures had been falsified. Augustine failed to find in it the science of the laws of nature which he he had sought. In 383 he secretly travelled to Rome and set up a school of rhetoric but gave up the venture when his students defrauded him of his tuition fees. Attracted by a vacant teaching position in Milan, he moved there and came under the influence of Ambrose, Bishop of Milan. Monica, having followed Augustine to Rome, joined him in Milan and continued to pray earnestly for his conversion. On the eve of Easter in 387, Augustine was baptised by Ambrose in the Cathedral of Milan. It was on this occasion, so it is said, that the solemn hymn Te Deum was composed and chanted for the first time.

Later that year Augustine returned to Rome with his mother Saint Monica and was preparing to leave for Africa when she took ill and died in Ostia. On his return to Africa he lived in solitude for three years, and was then consecrated Bishop of Hippo. He was always most humble and most temperate. His clothing and his bed were of the simplest kind. He kept a frugal table, which was always seasoned by reading or holy conversation. Such was his loving kindness to the poor that when he had no other resource he broke up the sacred vessels for their relief. He avoided all intercourse and conversation with women, even with his sister and his niece, for he used to say that though such near relations could not give rise to any suspicion, yet might the women who came to visit them.

Never did he omit to preach the word of God except when seriously ill. He pursued heretics unremittingly both in public disputations and in his writings, never allowing them to take a foothold anywhere. By these means he freed Africa entirely from the Manichees, Donatists and other heretics. His numerous works were full of piety, deep wisdom and eloquence, and throw the greatest light on Christian doctrine so that he is the great master and guide of all those who later on reduced theological teaching to method. While the Vandals were devastating Africa, and Hippo had been besieged by them for three months, Augustine was seized with a fever. When he realised that his death was near, he had the Penitential Psalms of David placed before him and used to read them with abundant tears. He was accustomed to say that no one, even though not conscious to himself of any sin, ought to be presumptuous enough to die without repentance. He was in full possession of his faculties and intent on prayer until the end. Augustine died in 430 AD at the age of 76. For writing his Confessions, City of God and other great theological works he was proclaimed a Doctor of the Church by Pope Boniface VIII in 1298. Saint Augustine is the patron of theologians.

Dom Prosper Guéranger:

Today Augustine, the greatest and the humblest of the Doctors is hailed by Heaven where his conversion caused greater joy than that of any other sinner, and is celebrated by the Church who is enlightened by his writings as to the power, the value, and the gratuitousness of divine grace.

Since that wonderful, heavenly conversation at Ostia, God had completed His triumph in the son of Monica’s tears and of Ambrose’s holiness. Far away from the great cities where pleasure had seduced him, the former rhetorician now cared only to nourish his soul with the simplicity of the Scriptures, in silence and solitude. But grace, after breaking the double chain that bound his mind and his heart, was to have a still greater dominion over him. The pontifical consecration was to consummate Augustine’s union with that divine Wisdom whom alone he declared he loved “for her own sole sake, caring neither for rest nor life save on her account.” From this height to which the divine mercy had raised him, let us hear him pouring out his heart: “Too late have I loved you, O beauty so ancient and yet so new! Too late have I loved you! And behold you were within me, and I, having wandered out of myself, sought you everywhere without... I questioned the Earth and she answered me: ‘I am not the one you seek,’ and all the creatures of earth made the same reply. I questioned the sea and its abysses and all the living things in it, and they answered: ‘We are not your God. Seek above us.’ I questioned the restless winds, and all the air with its inhabitants replied: ‘Anaximenes is mistaken, I am not God.’ I questioned the sky, the sun, the moon, the stars, and they said: ‘We are not the God whom you seek.’ And I said to all these things that stand without at the gates of my senses: ‘You have all confessed concerning my God that you are not He, tell me now something about Him.’ And they all cried with one great voice: ‘It is He that made us.’ I questioned them with my desires, and they answered by their beauty. Let the air and the waters and the earth be silent! Let man keep silence in his own soul! Let him pass beyond his own thought, for beyond all language of men or of Angels, He, of whom creatures speak, makes Himself heard; where signs and images and figurative visions cease, there Eternal Wisdom reveals herself. You called and cried so loud that my deaf ears could hear you. You shone didst shine so brightly that my blind eyes could see you. Your fragrance exhilarated me and it is after you that I aspire. Having tasted you I hunger and thirst. You touched me and thrilled me and I burn to be in your peaceful rest. When I will be united to you with my whole being, then will my sorrows and labours cease.”

To the end of his life Augustine never ceased to fight for the truth against all the heresies then invented by the father of lies. In his ever repeated victories, we know not which to admire most: his knowledge of the Holy Scriptures, his powerful logic, or his eloquence. We see too that divine charity which, while inflexibly upholding every iota of God’s rights, is full of ineffable compassion for the unhappy beings who do not understand those rights. “Let those be hard on you who do not know "what labour it is to reach the truth and turn away from error. Let those be hard on you who know not how rare a thing it is, and how much it costs, to overcome the false images of the senses and to dwell in peace of soul. Let those be hard on you who know not with what difficulty man’s mental eye is healed so as to be able to gaze on the Sun of justice, who know not through what sighs and groans one attains to some little knowledge of God. Let those finally, be hard on you who have never known seduction like that by which you are deceived... As for me, who have been tossed about by the vain imaginations of which my mind was in search, and who have shared your misery and so long deplored it, I could not by any means be harsh to you.”

These touching words were addressed to the disciples of Manes who were hemmed in on all sides even by the laws of the pagan emperors. How fearful is the misery of our fallen race when the darkness of Hell can overpower the loftiest intellects! Augustine, the formidable opponent of heresy, was for nine years previously the convinced disciple and ardent apostle of Manicheism. This heresy was a strange variety of Gnostic dualism which to explain the existence of evil made a god of evil itself, and which owed its prolonged influence to the pleasure taken in it by Satan’s pride.

Augustine sustained also a prolonged though more local struggle against the Donatists whose teaching was based on a principle as false as the fact from which it professed to originate. This fact, which on the petitions presented by the Donatists themselves was juridically proved to be false, was that Caecilianus, primate of Africa in 311, had received episcopal consecration from a traditor, i. e. one who had delivered up the sacred Books in time of persecution. No one, argued the Donatiete, could communicate with a sinner without himself ceasing to form part of the Book of Christ. Therefore, the bishops of the rest of the world had continued to communicate with Caecilianus and his successors, the Donatists alone were now the Church. This groundless schism was established among most of the inhabitants of Roman Africa, with its four hundred and ten bishops, and its troops of Circumcellions ever ready to commit murder and violence on the Catholics on the roads or in isolated houses. The greater part of our Saint’s time was occupied in trying to bring back these lost sheep. We must not imagine him studying at his ease in the peace of a quiet episcopal city chosen as if for the purpose by Providence, and there writing those precious works whose fruits the whole world has enjoyed even to our days. There is no fecundity on Earth without sufferings and trials, known sometimes to men, sometimes to God alone. When the writings of the Saints awaken in us pious thoughts and generous resolutions, we must not be satisfied, as we might in the case of profane books, with admiring the genius of the authors, but think with gratitude of the price they paid for the supernatural good produced in our souls. Before Augustine’s arrival in Hippo, the Donatists were so great a majority of the population that, as he himself informs us, they could even forbid anyone to bake bread for Catholics.

When the saint died, things were very different. But the pastor who had made it his first duty to save, even in spite of themselves, the souls confided to him, had been obliged to spend his days and nights in this great work, and had more than once run the risk of martyrdom. The leaders of the schismatics, fearing the force of his reasoning even more than his eloquence, refused all intercourse with him. They declared that to put Augustine to death would be a praiseworthy action which would merit for the perpetrator the remission of his sins.

“Pray for us,” he said at the beginning of his episcopate, “pray for us who live in so precarious a state, as it were between the teeth of furious wolves. These wandering sheep, obstinate sheep, are offended because we run after them, as if their wandering made them cease to be ours. ‘Why do you call us?’ they say. ‘Why do you pursue us?’ But the very reason of our cries and our anguish is that they are running to their ruin. ‘If I am lost, if I die, what is it to you? And what do you want with me?’ ‘What I want is to call you back from your wandering. What I desire is to snatch you from death.’ ‘But what if I will to wander? What if I will to be lost?’ ‘You will to wander? You will to be lost? How much more earnestly do I wish it not!’ Yes, I dare to say it, I am importunate, for I hear the Apostle saying: ‘Preach the word: be instant in season, out of season (2 Timothy iv. 2). In season, when they are willing, out of season, when they are unwilling.’ Yes then, I am importunate: ‘you will to perish, I will it not. And He wills it not, who threatened the shepherds saying: That which was driven away you not brought again, neither have got sought that which was lost (Ezechiel xxxiv. 4). Am I to fear you more than Him? I fear you not. The tribunal of Donatus cannot take the place of Christ‘s judgement seat, before which we must all appear. Whether you will it or not, I will call back the wandering sheep, I will seek the lost sheep. The thorns may tear me, but however narrow the opening may be, it will not check my pursuit. I will beat every bush, as long as the Lord gives me strength: so only I can get to you wherever you strive to perish.”

Driven into their last trenches by such unconquerable charity, the Donatists replied by massacring clerics and faithful, since they could not touch Augustine himself. The bishop implored the imperial judges not to inflict mutilation or death on the murderers lest the triumph of the martyrs should be sullied by such a vengeance. Such mildness was certainly worthy of the Church, but it was destined to be one day brought forward against her in contrast to certain other facts of her history, by a school of liberalism that can grant rights and even pre-eminence to error. Augustine acknowledges his first idea to have been that constraint should not be used to bring any one into the unity of Christ. He believed that preaching and free discussion should be the only arms employed for the conversion of heretics. But on the consideration of what was taking place before his eyes, the very logic of his charity brought him over to the opinion of his more ancient colleagues in the episcopate.

“Who,” he says, “could love us more than God does? Nevertheless God makes use of fear in order to save us, although he teaches us with sweetness. When the Father of the family wanted guests for his banquet, did he not send his servants to the highways and hedges, to compel all they met to come in? This banquet is the unity of Christ‘s Body. If, then, the divine goodness has willed that, at the fitting time, the faith of Christian kings should recognise this power of the Church, let the heretics brought back from the by-ways, and schismatics forced into their enclosures, consider not the constraint they suffer, but the banquet of the Lord to which they would not otherwise have attained. Does not the shepherd sometimes use threats and sometimes blows to win back to the master’s fold the sheep that have been enticed out of it? Severity that springs from love is preferable to deceitful gentleness. He who binds the delirious man, and wakes up the sleeper from his lethargy, molests them both, but for their good. If a house were on the point of falling, and our cries could not induce those within to come out, would it not be cruelty not to save them by force in spite of themselves? and that, even if we could snatch only one, from death, because the rest, seeing it, obstinately hastened their own destruction: as the Donatists do, who in their madness commit suicide to obtain the crown of martyrdom. No one can become good in spite of himself. Nevertheless, the rigorous laws of which they complain bring deliverance not only to individuals, but to whole cities, by freeing them from the bonds of untruth and causing them to see the truth, which the violence or the deceits of the schismatics had hidden from their eyes. Far from complaining, their gratitude is now boundless and their joy complete. Their feasts and their chants are unceasing.”

Meanwhile the justice of Heaven was falling on the queen of nations. Rome, after the triumph of the Cross, had not profited of God’s merciful delay. Now she was expiating under the hand of Alaric the blood of the Saints which she had shed before her idols. “Go out from her my people” (Apocalypse xviii. 4). At this signal the city was evacuated. The roads were all lined with barbarians, and happy was the fugitive who could succeed in reaching the sea, there to entrust to the frailest skiff the honour of his family and the remains of his fortune. Like a bright beacon shining through the storms, Augustine, by his reputation, attracted to the African coast the best of the unfortunates. His varied correspondenoe shows us the new links then formed by God, between the Bishop of Hippo and so many noble exiles. At one time he would send, as far as Nola in Campania, charming messages, mingled with learned questions and luminous answers, to greet his “dear lords and venerable brethren, Paulinus and Therasia, his fellow disciples in the school of our Lord Jesus.” Again it was to Carthage or even nearer home, that his letters were directed, to console, instruct and fortify Albina, Melania and Pinianus, but especially Proba and Juliana, the illustrious grandmother and mother of a still more illustrious daughter, the virgin Demetrias, the greatest in the Roman world for nobility and wealth, and Augustine’s dear conquest to the heavenly Spouse. “Oh! who,” he wrote on hearing of her consecration to our Lord, “who could worthily express the glory added this day to the family of the Anicii. For years it has ennobled the world by the consuls its sons, but now it gives virgins to Christ! Let others imitate Demetrias. Whoever ambitions the glory of this illustrious family, let him take holiness for his portion!” Augustine’s desire was magnificently realised, when, less than a century later, the gens Anicii gave to the world Scholastica and Benedict who were to lead into intimate familiarity and union with God so many souls eager for true nobility.

When Rome fell, the shook was felt throughout the provinces and even beyond. Augustine tells us how he, a descendant of the ancient Numidians, groaned and wept in his almost inconsolable grief. So great, even in her decadence, was the universal esteem and love for the queen city through the secret action of him who was holding out to her new and higher destinies. Meanwhile the terrible crisis furnished the occasion for Augustine’s most important writings.

The City of God was an answer to the still numerous partisans of idolatry who attributed the misfortunes of the empire to the suppression of the false gods. In this great work he refutes, in the most complete and masterly way, the theology and also the philosophy of Roman and Grecian paganism. He then proceeds to set forth the origin, the history and the end of the two cities, the earthly and the heavenly, which divide the world between them, and which are founded upon “two opposite loves: the love of self even to the despising of God, and the love of God even to the despising of self.” But Augustine’s greatest triumph was that which earned for him the title of the Doctor of grace. His favourite prayer: Da quod jubes, et jube quod vis, (Lord give me grace to do what you command, and command what you will) toffended the pride of a certain British monk whom the events of the year 410 had led into Africa. This was Pelagius who taught that nature, all-powerful for good, was quite capable of working out salvation, and that Adam’s sin injured himself alone, and was not passed down to his posterity. We can well understand Augustine who owed so much to the Divine mercy, feeling so strong an aversion for a system whose authors seemed to say to God: “You made us men, but it is we that justify ourselves.”

In this new campaign no injuries were spared to the former convert, but they were his joy and his hope. He had already said, with regard to similar arguments adduced by other adversaries: “Catholics, my beloved brethren, one flock of the one Shepherd, I care not how the enemy may insult the watch-dog of the fold. It is not for my own defence, but for yours, that I must bark. Yet I must needs tell this enemy that, as to my former wanderings and errors, I condemn them, as everyone else does. I can but see therein the glory of Him who has delivered me from myself. When I hear my former life brought forward, no matter with what intention it is done, I am not so ungrateful as to be afflicted thereat, for the more they show up my misery, the more I praise my physician.” While he made so little account of himself, his reputation was spreading throughout the world by reason of the victory he had won for grace. “Honour to you,” wrote the aged Saint Jerome from Bethlehem. “Honour to the man whom the raging winds have not been able to overthrow... Continue to be of good courage. The whole world celebrates your praises. The Catholics venerate and admire you as the restorer of the ancient faith. But, what is a mark of still greater glory, all the heretics hate you. They honour me too, with their hatred. Not being able to strike us with the sword, they kill us in desire.”

These lines reveal the intrepid combatant with whom we will make acquaintance in September, and who, soon after writing them, was laid to rest in the sacred cave near which he had taken refuge. Augustine had yet some years to continue the good fight, to complete the exposition of Catholic in contradiction to some even holy persons who were inclined to think that at least the beginning of salvation, the desire of faith, did not require the special assistance of God. This was semi-pelagianism. A century later (629) the second Council of Orange, approved by Rome and hailed by the whole Church, closed the struggle, taking its definitions from the writings of the bishop of Hippo. Augustine himself, however, thus concluded his last work: “Let those who read these things give thanks to God, if they understand them. If not, let them pray to the teacher of our souls, to Him whose shining produces knowledge and understanding. Do they think that I err? Let them reflect again and again, lest perhaps they themselves be mistaken. As for me, when the readers of my works instruct and correct me, I see therein the goodness of God. Yes, I ask it as a favour, especially of the learned ones in the Church, if by chance this book should fall into their hands, and they deign to take notice of what I write.”

But let us return to the privileged people of Hippo, won over by Augustine’s devotedness, even more than by his admirable discourses. His door was open to every comer, and he was ever ready to listen to the requests, the sorrows and the disputes of his children. Sometimes, at the instance of other churches, and even of councils, requiring of Augustine a more active pursuit of works of general interest, an agreement was made between the flock and the pastor that on certain days of the week no one should interrupt him. But the convention could not last long. Whoever wished could claim the attention of this loving and humble shepherd, beside whom the little ones especially knew well that they would never meet with a refusal. As an instance of this we may mention the fortunate child who, wishing to correspond with the bishop but not daring to take the initiative, received from him the touching letter which may be seen in his works.

Besides all his other glories, our saint was the institutor of monastic life in Roman Africa, by the monasteries he founded, and in which he lived before he became bishop. He was a legislator by his letter to the virgins of Hippo, which became the Rule on which so many servants and handmaids of our Lord have formed their religious life. Lastly, together with the clerics of his church who lived with him a common life of absolute poverty, he was the example and the head of the great family of Regular Canons.

WHAT a death was yours, O Augustine, receiving on your humble couch nothing but news of disaster and ruin! Your Africa was perishing at the hands of the barbarians, in punishment of those nameless crimes of the ancient world in which she had so large a share. Together with Genseric, Arius triumphed over that land, which nevertheless, thanks to you, was to produce, for yet a hundred years, admirable martyrs for the Consubstantiality of the Word. When Belisarius restored her to the Roman world, God seemed to be offering her, for the martyrs’ sake, an opportunity of returning to her former prosperity. But the inexperienced Byzantines, pre-occupied with their theological quarrels and political intrigues, knew not how to raise her up, nor to protect her against an invasion more terrible than the first, and the torrent of Mussulman infidelity soon swept all before it. At length, after twelve centuries, the Cross appeared in those places where the very names of so many flourishing churches had perished.

During all that long night which overhung your native land, your influence did not cease Throughout the entire world your immortal works were enlightening the minds of men and arousing their love. In the basilicas served by your sons and imitators, the splendour of divine worship, the pomp of the ceremonies, the perfection of sacred melodies, kept up in the hearts of the people the same supernatural enthusiasm which took possession of your own, when, for the first time in our West, Saint Ambrose instituted the alternate chanting of the Psalms and sacred Hymns. Throughout all ages the perfect life, in its many different ways of exercising the double precept of charity, draws from the waters of your fountains. Continue to illumine the Church with your incomparable light. Bless the numerous religious families which claim your illustrious patronage. Assist us all, by obtaining for us the spirit of love and of penance, of confidence and of humility, which befits the redeemed soul. Give us to know the weakness of our nature and its unworthiness since the Fall, and at the same time the boundless goodness of our God, the superabundance of His Redemption, the all-powerfulness of his grace. May we all, like you, not only recognise the truth, but be able loyally and practically to say to God: “You have made us for yourself, and our heart is ill at ease till it rests in you.”

According to the most ancient monuments of the Roman Church, another Saint has always been honoured on this same day, viz: Hermes, a Roman magistrate, who bore witness to Christ under Trajan. The crypt constructed, less than half a century after the death of the Apostles, to receive this martyr’s relice, is remarkable for its majestic and ample proportions not usually found in the subterranean cemeteries. It was his sister Theodora, who received from Balbina, daughter of the tribune Quirinus, the venerable chains of Saint Peter.

Also on this day according to the ROMAN MARTYROLOGY:

At Rome, the birthday of St. Hermes, an illustrious man, who, as we read in the Acts of the blessed Pope Alexander, was first confined in prison, and afterwards ended his martyrdom by the sword under the judge Aurelian.

At Brioude in Auvergne, St. Julian, martyr, during the persecution of Diocletian. Being the companion of the blessed tribune Ferreol, and secretly serving Christ under a military garb, he was arrested by the soldiers and killed in a barbarous manner by having his throat cut.

At Coutances in France, St. Pelagius, martyr, who received the crown of martyrdom under the emperor Numerian and the judge Evilasius.

At Salerno, the holy martyrs Fortunatus, Caius, and Anthes, beheaded under the emperor Diocletian and the proconsul Leontius.

At Constantinople, the holy bishop Alexander, an aged and celebrated man, through whose efficacious prayers Arius, by the judgement of God, burst asunder and exposed his intestines.

At Saintes, St. Vivian, bishop and confessor.

Also St. Moses, an Ethiopian, who gave up a life of robbery and became a renowned anchoret. He converted many robbers and led them to a monastery.

And in other places, many other holy martyrs, confessors and virgins.

Thanks be to God.

27 AUGUST – SAINT JOSEPH CALASANCTIUS (Confessor)

Joseph Calasanctius (José de Calasanz) was born at the castle of Calasanz near Peralta de la Sal, Aragón, Spain, in 1557 to Don Pedro Calasanz and Doña María Gaston. From an early age he gave signs of his future love for children and their education. When still a little child he would gather other children round him and would teach them the mysteries of faith and holy prayer. After having received a good education in the liberal arts and divinity, he went through hie theological studies at Valencia. Here he courageously overcame the seductions of a noble and powerful lady, and by a remarkable victory preserved unspotted his virginity which he had already vowed to God. He became a priest in fulfilment of a vow in 1587, and several bishops of New Castile, Aragon and Catalonia availed themselves of his assistance. He surpassed all their expectations, corrected evil living throughout the kingdom, restored ecclesiastical discipline, and was marvellously successful in putting an end to enmities and bloody factions.

But urged by heavenly vision, and after having been several times called by God, he went to Rome. Here he led a life of great austerity in fasting and watching, spending whole day and nights in heavenly contemplation, and visiting the seven churches of pilgrimages almost every night. This last custom he observed for many years. He enrolled himself in pious associations and with wonderful charity devoted himself to aiding and consoling the poor with alms and other works of mercy, especially those who were sick or imprisoned. When the plague was raging in Rome, he joined Saint Camillus de Lellis, and not content in his ardent zeal with bestowing lavish care on the sick poor, he even carried the dead to the grave on his own shoulders. But having been divinely admonished that he was called to educate children he founded the Order of the Poor Regular Clerks of the Mother of God of the Pious Schools (the Piarists), who are specially destined to devote themselves to the instruction of youth. This Order was highly approved by Popes Clement VIII, Paul V and other Roman Pontiffs, and in a wonderfully short space of time it spread through many of the kingdoms of Europe. But in this undertaking Joseph had to undergo many sufferings and labours, and he endured them all with so much constancy, that every one proclaimed him a miracle of patience and another Job.

Though burdened with the government of the whole Order, he nevertheless devoted himself to saving souls, and moreover never gave over teaching children, especially those of the poorer class. He would sweep their schools and take them to their homes himself. For fifty-two years he persevered in this work, though it called on him to practise the greatest patience and humility, and although he suffered from weak health. God rewarded him by honouring him with many miracles in the presence of his disciples, and the Blessed Virgin Mary appeared to him with the infant Jesus, who blessed his children while they were praying. He refused the highest dignities, but he was made illustrious by the gifts of prophecy, of reading the secrets of hearts, and of knowing what was going on in his absence. He was favoured with frequent apparitions of the citizens of Heaven, particularly of the Virgin Mother of God, whom he had loved and honoured most especially from his infancy, and whose cultus he had most strongly recommended to his disciples.

Joseph foretold the day of his death and the restoration and propagation of his Order, which was then almost destroyed. In in his ninety-second year he fell asleep in our Lord, at Rome, on the 8th of the Calends of September in 1648. A century later, his heart and tongue were found whole and incorrupt. God honoured him by many miracles after his death. Pope Benedict XIV granted him the honours of the Blessed, and Pope Clement XIII canonised him in 1767.

Dom Prosper Guéranger:

“To you is the poor man left: you will be a helper to the orphan” (Psalms ix. 14). Proud Venice has already seen these words realised in her noble son Jerome Aemilian: today they indicate the sanctity of another illustrious person descended from the first princes of Navarre, but of still higher rank in the kingdom of charity. God, who waters the trees of the field as well as the cedars of Libanus, because it is He that planted them all, takes care also of the little birds that do not gather into barn: will He then forget the child who is of much more value than the birds of the air? Or will He give him corporal nourishment and neglect the soul hungering for the bread of the knowledge of salvation which strengthens the heart of man? In the sixteenth century one might have been tempted to think our heavenly Father’s granaries were empty. True, the Holy Spirit soon raised up new saints, but the reviving charity was insufficient for the number of destitute: how many poor children, especially, were without schools, deprived of the most elementary education which is indispensable to the fulfilment of their obligations, and to their nobility as children of God: and there was no one to break to them the bread of knowledge!

More fortunate than so many other countries overrun with heresy, Spain was at her apogee, enjoying the hundredfold promised to those who seek first the kingdom of God. She seemed to have become our Lord’s inexhaustible resource. A little while ago she had given Ignatius Loyola to the world. She had just enriched Heaven by the precious death of Teresa of Avila when the Holy Ghost drew once more from her abundance to add to the riches of the capital of the Christian world, and to supply the wants of the little ones in God’s Church. The descendant of the Calasanz of Petralta de la Sal was already the admired Apostle of Aragon, Catalonia and Castile, when he heard a mysterious voice speaking to his soul: “Go to Rome. Go forth from the land of your birth. Soon will appear to you, in her heavenly beauty, the companion destined for you, holy poverty, who now calls you to taste of her austere delights. Go, without knowing where I am leading you. I will make you the father of an immense family. I will show you all that you must suffer for my name’s sake.”

Forty years of blind fidelity in unconscious sanctity had prepared the elect of Heaven for his sublime vocation. “What can be greater,” asks Saint John Chrysostom, “than to direct the souls and form the characters of children? Indeed I consider him greater than any painter or sculptor who knows how to fashion the souls of the young.” Joseph understood the dignity of his mission: during the remaining fifty-two years of his life he, according to the recommendations of the holy Doctor, considered nothing mean or despicable in the service of the little ones. Nothing cost him dear if only it enabled him, by the teaching of letters, to infuse into the innumerable children who came to him, the fear of the Lord. From Saint Pantaleon, his residence, the Pious Schools soon covered the whole of Italy, spread into Sicily and Spain, and were eagerly sought by kings and people in Moravia, Bohemia, Poland and the northern countries. Eternal Wisdom associated Calasanctius to her own work of salvation on Earth. She rewarded him for his labours, as she generally does her privileged ones, by giving him “a strong conflict, that he might overcome and know that wisdom is mightier than all” (Wisdom x. 12). It is a conflict like that of Jacob at the ford of Jaboc which represents the last obstacle to the entrance into the promised land, when all the pleasures and goods of the world have been sent on before by absolute renouncement. It is a conflict by night in which nature fails and becomes lame, but it is followed by the rising of the sun, and sets the combatant at the entrance of eternal day. It is a conflict with God hand to hand, under the appearance, it is true, of a man or of an angel. But it matters little under what form God chooses to hide Himself, provided it takes nothing from His sovereign dominion. “Why do you ask my name?” said the wrestler to Jacob. Yours will be henceforth “Israel, strong against God” (Genesis xxxii.).

Our readers may consult the historians of Saint Joseph Calasanctius for the details of the trials which made him a prodigy of fortitude, as the Church calls him. Through the calumnies of false brethren the saint was deposed, and the Order reduced to the condition of a secular congregation. It was not until after his death that it was re-established, first by Alexander VII, and then by Clement IX, as a Regular Order with solemn vows. In his great work on the canonisation of Saints, Benedict XIV speaks at length on this subject, delighting in the part he bad taken in the process of the servant of God, first as consistorial advocate, then as promoter of the faith, and lastly as Cardinal giving his vote in favour of the cause.

The Lord has heard the desire of the poor, by making you the depository of His love, and putting on your lips the words He Himself was the first to utter: “Suffer the little children to come to me” (Mark x. 14). How many owe and will yet owe, their eternal happiness to you, O Joseph, because you and your sons have preserved in them the divine likeness received in baptism, man’s only title to Heaven! Be blessed for having justified the confidence Jesus placed in you by entrusting to your care those frail little beings who are the objects of His divine predilection. Be blessed for having still further corresponded to that confidence of our Lord when He suffered you, like Job, to be persecuted by Satan, and with yet more cruel surprises than those of the just Idumaean. Must not God be able to count unfailingly on those who are His? Is it not fitting that, amid the defections of this miserable world, He should be able to show His Angels what grace can do in our poor nature, and how far His adorable will can be carried out in His Saints? The reward of your sufferings, which your unwavering confidence from Mother of God came at the divinely appointed hour. O Joseph, now that the Pious Schools have been long ago re-established, bless the disciples whom even our age continues to give you. Obtain for them, and for the countless scholars they train to Christian science, the blessing of the infant Jesus. Give your spirit and your courage to all who devote their labour and their life to the education of the young. Raise us all to the level of the teaching conveyed by your heroic life.

Also on this day according to the ROMAN MARTYROLOGY:

At Capua in Campania, the birthday of St. Rufus, bishop and martyr, a patrician, who was baptised with all his family by blessed Apollinaris, a disciple of the blessed Apostle St. Peter.

In the same place, the holy martyrs Rufus and Carpophorus, who suffered under Diocletian and Maximian.

At Tomis in Pontus, the holy martyrs Marcellinus, tribune, and Mannea, his wife, and his sons John, Serapion and Peter.

At Lentini in Sicily, St. Euthalia, virgin. Because she was a Christian she was put to the sword by her brother Sermilian and went to her spouse.

The same day, the martyrdom of St. Anthusa the Younger, who was made a martyr by being cast into a well for the faith of Christ.

At Bergamo, St. Narnus, who was baptised by blessed St. Barnabas, and consecrated by him first bishop of that city.

At Arles, the holy bishop Caesarius, a man of great sanctity and piety.

At Autun, St. Syagrius, bishop and confessor.

At Pavia, St. John, bishop.

At Lerida in Spain, St. Licerius, bishop.

In Thebais, St. Poemon, anchoret.

At San Severino, in the Marches of Ancona, St. Margaret, widow.

And in other places, many other holy martyrs, confessors and virgins.

Thanks be to God.

27 AUGUST – THIRTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Dom Prosper Guéranger:

The Dominical series, formerly counted from the feast of Saint Peter or the Apostles, never went beyond this Sunday. The feast of Saint Laurence gave its name to those which follow, though that name began with even the ninth Sunday for the years when Easter was nearest the Spring equinox. When, on the contrary, that Solemnity was kept at its almost latest date, the weeks began from today to be counted as the Weeks of the seventh month (September). The Ember Days of the Autumn quarter sometimes occur even this week, while in other years they may be as late as the eighteenth. We will speak of them when we come to the Seventeenth Sunday, for it is in the week following that that the Roman Missal inserts them. In the Western Church the Thirteenth Sunday takes its name from the Gospel of the Ten Lepers which is read in the Mass: the Greeks, who count it as the Thirteenth of Saint Matthew, read on it the parable of the vineyard, whose labourers, though called at different hours of the day, all receive the same pay (Matthew xx.).

Now that she is in possession of the promises so long waited for by the world — the Church loves to repeat the words with which the just men of the Old Law used to express their sentiments. Those just men were living during the gloomy period when the human race was seated in the shadow of death. We are under incomparably happier circumstances. We are blessed with graces in abundance. Eternal Wisdom has spared us the trials our forefathers had to contend with by giving us to live in the period which has been enriched by all the mysteries of salvation being fulfilled. There is a danger, however, and our Mother the Church does her utmost to avert us from falling into it. It is the danger of forgetting all these blessings of ours. Ingratitude is the necessary outcome of forgetfulness, and today’s Gospel justly condemns it. On this account, the Epistle remind us of the time when man had nothing to cheer him but hope: a promise had, indeed, been made to him of a sublime covenant which was, at some distant future, to be realised. But, meanwhile, he was very poor, was a prey to the wiles of Satan, his cause was to be tried by divine justice, and yet he prayed for loving mercy.

Epistle – Galatian iii. 16‒22

Brethren, to Abraham were the promises made, and to his seed. He said not, And to his seeds, as of many; but as of one, And to your seed, which is Christ. Now this I say, that the testament which was confirmed by God, the law which was made after four hundred and thirty years does not dis-annul to make the promise of no effect. For if the inheritance be of the law, it is no more of promise. But God gave it to Abraham by promise. Why, then, was the law? It was set because of transgressions, until the seed should come to whom He made the promise: being ordained by Angels in the hands of a mediator. Now a mediator is not of one: but God is one. Was the law, then, against the promises of God? God forbid. For if there had been a law given which could give life, verily justice should have been by the law. But the scriptures has concluded all under sin that the promise by the faith of Jesus Christ might be given to them that believe.

Thanks be to God.

Dom Prosper Guéranger:

“Look up to heaven, and number the stars, if you can! So will your seed be! (Genesis xv. 5) Abraham was almost 100 years old (Romans iv. 19) and Sarah’s barrenness deprived him of all natural hope of posterity when these words were spoken to him by God. Abraham, nevertheless, believed God, says the Scripture, “and it was reputed to him unto justice” (Genesis xv. 6). And when later on that same faith (Hebrews xi. 17‒19) would have led him to sacrifice on the mount that son of the promise, his one only hope, God renewed his promise and added: “In your seed will all the nations of the Earth be blessed” (Genesis xii. 18).

It is now that the promise is fulfilled. The event justifies Abraham’s faith. He believed against all hope, trusting to that God who “quickens the dead and calls those things that are not, as those that are and” (Romans iv. 17, 18) according to the expression of John the Baptist, from the very stones of the Gentile world there rise up in all places children to Abraham (Matthew iii. 9). His faith, firm and at the same time so simple, gave to God the glory (Romans iv. 20) which He looks for from His creatures. Man can add nothing to the divine perfections, but — agreeably to God’s own words — though he sees them not directly here below, he acknowledges those perfections by adoring and loving them. He makes his faith tell upon his whole life and this use which he freely makes of his faculties, this voluntary devotedness of an intelligent being, magnifies God by adding to His extrinsic glory.

Following in Abraham’s steps (Romans iv. 12) there have come those multitudes born for that Heaven of faith which he showed to the whole Earth. They live by faith (Romans i. 17) and thereby in all their acts they give to God the homage of confession and praise through His Son Christ Jesus. And like Abraham they receive in return a blessing, a benediction, of an ever increasing justice (Romans iv. 23, 24; Galatians iii. 9). The magnificent development of the Church which gives this new posterity to Abraham is greater and more visible since the fall of Israel. In countries the remotest, in the midst of cities that once were all pagan, we see crowds of men, women and children imitating Abraham (Genesis xii. 1): that is, at Heaven’s call, leaving, if not their country, at least everything that once made Earth dear to them: and like him, trusting in the fidelity and power of God to fulfil His promises (Romans iv. 20, 21), they live as strangers amidst their neighbours, yea, and in their very homes, using this world as though they did not use it (1 Corinthians vii. 31). In the tumult of cities as in the desert, in the midst of the vain pleasures of the world, whose fashion and figure passes away (1 Corinthians viii. 31) — they have no other thought than that of the unseen realities (Hebrews xi. 1): no other care than that of pleasing God (1 Corinthians vii. 32). They take to themselves the word that was spoken to their father: “Walk before me and be perfect!” (Genesis xvii. 1) and in truth it was to all of them that it was spoken. It was the condition in the alliance concluded by God with those His faithful servants of all ages in the person of the grand Patriarch who was not only their progenitor, but their model too. And God responds also to their faith, either by private manifestations or by the still surer voice of His Scriptures (2 Peter i. 19), saying: “Fear not! I am your protector and your reward exceeding great! (Genesis xv. 1).

Truly then the benediction of Abraham has been poured forth on the Gentiles (Galatians iii. 18). Christ Jesus, the true Son of the promise, the only seed of salvation, has by faith in His Resurrection (Romans iv. 24) assembled from every nation (Galatians iii. 28) them that are of goodwill (Luke ii. 14), making them all one in Him, making them, like Himself, children of Abraham (Galatians iii. 29), and what is better still, children of God (Galatians iv. 5‒7). For the benediction that was promised at the beginning of the alliance was the Holy Ghost Himself (Galatians iii. 14), the spirit of adoption of children that came down into our hearts to make us all heirs of God and joint-heirs of Christ (Romans viii. 15‒17). O mighty power of Faith, which breaks down the former walls of division, unites nations together (Ephesians ii. 14‒18) and substitutes the love and freedom of children of the Most High for the law of bondage and fear (Romans viii. 2)!

And yet, grand as was this spectacle of the Gentiles becoming incorporated into the chosen race and being made sharers in Christ of the holy promises (Ephesians iii. 6) — it did not please all people. The carnal Jew who boasts of having Abraham for his father though he cares little about imitating his works (John viii. 39) — the Circumcised who vaunts the bearing in his flesh the sign of a Faith which dwells not in his heart (Romans iv. 11) — these men who have rejected Christ now reject His members and would fain destroy His Church or at least trammel it. They are enraged at seeing crowding in, from every portion of the globe (Luke xiii. 29), that immense concourse which their vile jealousy has vainly sought to keep back. While their wounded pride kept them from going in (Luke xv. 28), the Gentiles were sitting down with Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and all the Prophets at the banquet of God’s kingdom (Luke xiii. 28): the last became the first (Luke xiii. 30). Even to the end of time Israel — who, by his own obstinacy, has forfeited his ancient glory — will continue to be the enemy of this spiritual posterity of Abraham which has supplanted him (Genesis xxvii. 36), but his persecutions against the children of the promise and of the lawful Bride will but result in showing that he is, as Saint Paul says, the son of Agar, the son of the bond-woman who, together with her child, is excluded from the inheritance and kingdom (Galatians iv. 22‒31).

He prefers to refuse the liberty offered him by the Lord rather than acknowledge the definitive abrogation his now dead Law. Be it so. His hatred will not induce the children of the Church (who are prefigured by Sarah the free-woman) to reject the grace of their God for the sake of pleasing their enemy. It will not induce them to abandon the justice of Faith and the riches of the Spirit, and the life in Christ, in order to go back again to the yoke of slavery (Galatians v. 1) which, let the Jew do what he will, was broken into pieces by the Cross he himself set up on Calvary (Galatians ii. 19‒21). Up to the last the true Jerusalem, the free city, our mother — she that was once the barren woman but now is so glad a Bride with her children around her — yes, she will meet the superannuated, yet ever busy, pretensions of the Synagogue by reading to her assembled sons and daughters the Epistle we are having today. Up to the last, Saint Paul, in her name —speaking of the law of Sinai, which was made known to its subjects through the mediation of Moses and the Angels — will prove its inferiority as compared to the covenant made by Abraham directly with God. Each year, as emphatically as on the day he wrote his Epistle, Paul will declare the transient character of that legislation which came 430 years after a promise which could not be changed. Neither was such legislation to continue when the time should come for that Son of Abraham to appear, from whom the world was waiting to receive the promised benediction.

But what is to be said of the incapability of the Mosaic ministration to give man strength and enable him to rise up from his fall? The Gospel, on which we were meditating eight days back, and which formerly was assigned to this present Sunday, gave a symbolical and striking commentary on the uselessness of the Old Law in regard to this. At the same time it showed us the remedial power which resided in Christ, and was by Him transmitted to the ministers of the New Law. “Every portion of the Office of the thirteenth Sunday,” says Abbot Rupert, “bears on the history of that Samaritan whose name signifies keeper. It is our Lord Jesus Christ who, by His Incarnation, comes to the rescue of the man whom the Old Law was not able to keep from harm. And when this Jesus leaves the world, He consigns the poor sufferer to the care of the Apostles and apostolic men in the house of the Church. The intentional selection of this Gospel for today throws a great light on our Epistle, as also on the whole Letter to the Galatians, from which it is taken. Thus, the Priest and the Levite of the Parable are a figure of the Law and their passing by the half-dead man, seeing him indeed, but without making an attempt to heal him, is expressive of what that Law did. True, it did not go counter to God’s promises, but of itself it could justify no man. A physician who does not himself intend to visit a patient will sometimes send a servant who is expert in the knowledge of the causes of the malady, yet who has not the skill needed for mixing the remedy required, but can merely tell the sick man what diet and what drinks he must avoid if he would prevent his ailment from causing death. Such was the Law, set, as the Epistle tells us, because of transgressions, as a simple safeguard until such time as there should come the good Samaritan, the heavenly Physician. Having from his very first coming into this world fallen among robbers, Man is stripped of his supernatural goods and is covered with the wounds inflicted on him by original sin. If he do not abstain from actual sins, from those transgressions against which the Law was set as a monitor, he runs the risk of dying altogether.”

Gospel – Luke xvii. 11‒19

At that time, as Jesus was going to Jerusalem, He passed through the midst of Samaria and Galilee. And as He entered into a certain town, there met Him ten then that were lepers, who stood afar off and lifted up their voice saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” Whom, when He saw, He said, “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” And it came to pass that as they went, they were made clean. And one of them, when he saw that he was made clean, went back with a loud voice glorifying God: and he fell on his face before his feet, giving thanks: and this was a Samaritan. And Jesus answering, said, “Were not ten made clean? And where are the nine? There is no one found to return, and give glory to God, but this stranger.” And he said to Him, “Arise, go your way, for your faith has made you whole.

Praise be to you, O Christ.

Dom Prosper Guéranger:

The Samaritan Leper, cured of that hideous malady which is an apt figure of sin, in company with nine lepers of Jewish nationality, represents the despised race of Gentiles who were at first admitted by stealth, so to say, and by extraordinary privilege, into a share of the graces belonging to the lost sheep of the house of Israel (Matthew xv. 24). The conduct of these ten men on occasion of their miraculous cure is in keeping with the attitude assumed by the two people they typify, regarding the salvation offered to the world by the Son of God. It is a fresh demonstration of what the Apostle says: “All are not Israelites, that are of Israel. Neither are all they who are the seed of Abraham, children.” “But,” says the Scripture (Genesis xxi. 12), “in Isaac will your seed be called,” that is to say, not they who are the children of the flesh, are the children of God: but they that are the children of the promise are counted for the seed (Romans ix. 6‒8).

They are born of the faith of Abraham and are, in the eyes of the Lord, His true progeny. Our holy Mother the Church is never tired of this subject, the comparison of the Two Testaments and the contrast there is between the two people. We deem it our duty, before proceeding further, to explain how this is, for there are many persons who cannot understand what benefit can come to us Christians from hearing this subject preached to us.

The kind of spirituality which, with many of us, has nowadays been substituted for the liturgical life so thoroughly lived in, and so precious, to our Catholic ancestors, gives a certain dis-relish for the ideas which the Church so perseveringly brings before them during so many of her Sundays. They have become habituated to live in an atmosphere of very limited truth. It is all subjective as well as little, and they consider it a very excellent thing to forget all other teaching except what they happen to possess, and beyond which it is a trouble to go. With Christians of this class it is not surprising that they feel puzzled at finding the Church continually urging them to take an interest in a long past which they call of no practical utility to them! But the interior life, truly worthy of the name, is not what these good people imagine. No school of spirituality, either now or ever, made the ideal of virtue consist in indifference for those great historical facts which are evidently so precious in the eyes of the Church, and of God Himself. And what is the usual result of this isolating themselves from their Mother’s most cherished appreciations? It is that by this determined shutting themselves up in their own private prayers they, by a just punishment, lose sight of the true end of prayer, which is union with and love of God. Their meditation is deprived of that element of intimate and fruitful converse with God which is assigned it by all the masters of the spiritual life. It soon becomes an unproductive exercise of analysis and reasoning in which there is nothing but abstract conclusions.

Now when God mercifully invited men to the divine nuptials by manifesting to them His Word, it was not by abstraction that He gave to our Earth this the Son of His own eternal Substance. As to His divinity, men could not in their present state see it in a direct way. Had then God shown us in this pretended abstract way, that eternal Son of His, in whom are found all beauty, and warmth and life — it would have been imperfect and cold. This He did not do, but as Saint Paul tells us, He manifested, He showed, the great mystery of godliness in the Flesh (1 Timothy iii. 16). The Word became a living soul (Genesis ii. 7). Eternal Truth assumed to Himself a Body that so He might converse with men (Baruch iii. 38) and grow up like one of themselves (Luke ii. 52). And when that Body which eternal Truth was to hold as His own forever was taken up in glory (1 Timothy iii. 16) — the Church, the Bride of this Man-God, the bone of His bones and flesh of His flesh (Ephesians v. 30‒32) continued in the world this manifestation of God by the members of Christ. She continued that historical development of the Word which is only to cease when time is no more. This manifestation, this development, surpasses all human calculations and reveals fresh aspects of the Wisdom of God even to the Angels themselves (Ephesians iii. 10). Undoubtedly, a real regard is to be had for those axioms to which great minds have reduced the principles of science in an abstract logical order quite independently of history and facts: but neither with God nor with man has this sort of petrified theorising anything in it of the life, the influence, the activity of substantial truth. In the Church, as in God, truth is life and light (John i. 4). Her grand Credo would never ring so triumphantly as it does through our churches, it would never make its way so irresistibly up to Heaven, if it were but a bare series of true definitions and phrases. Its superhuman power comes from each of its articles, almost each of its words, teeming with the blood of martyrs upon it and radiant for the Church and for God with the splendour of toils, and sufferings, and combats of thousands of sainted Confessors and Doctors, the very aristocracy, that is, of human nature ennobled by Baptism, whose living is to be the completion of the Body of Christ here below (Colossians i. 24; ii. 19).

The subject is too full to be treated of here but this much is irresistible — that after the master-fact of the Incarnation of the Word who came upon our Earth to manifest God through the ages of time by Christ and His members (2 Corinthians iv. 10, 11), there is not one which is more important, not one which has been and still is so dear to God, as the vocation of the two peoples that were successively called by Him to the blessing of an alliance with Him. The gifts and vocations of God are, as the Apostle expresses it, without repentance or regret on His part. Those Jews who are now His enemies because they reject the Gospel are still called carissimi, they are still the beloved and dearly beloved, because of their Fathers (Romans xi. 28, 29). For the same reason a time will come, and the whole world is waiting for it, when the denial of Judah being revoked and his iniquities blotted out, the promises made to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob will be literally fulfilled (Romans xi. 25‒27). Then the divine unity of the two Testaments will be made evident, and the two peoples themselves will be made one under their one head, Christ Jesus (Ephesians ii. 14). The covenant of God with man being then fully realised such as He had designed it in His eternal wisdom — the Earth having yielded its fruit (Psalm lxvi. 7) — the world having done its work — the sepulchres will give back their dead (Romans xi. 15) and History will cease here on Earth, leaving glorified human nature to bloom in unreserved fullness of life under God’s complacent eye.

The truths, then, which are again brought before our notice by today’s Gospel are anything but dry or old-fashioned. Nothing is so grand and we must add there is nothing more practical in this season of the year, for it is the season that is consecrated to the mysteries of the Unitive Life. After all, in what primarily does union between God and man consist but in unanimity of the divine and human minds? Now we know that the divine mind has manifested all its designs in the respective history of the two Testaments and the two Peoples, and that the final result which is to bring these two histories to their close is the one only end which infinite Love was in the beginning, and is now, and will for ever be, proposing to fulfil. The Church, therefore, far from showing herself to be not up to the present age by recurring continually to truths such as these, is but clearly proving herself to be the most intelligent Bride of Jesus — is but evincing the changeless lovely youthfulness of a heart which ever beats in unison with that of her Spouse.

Let us now resume the literal explanation of our Gospel. As we were observing on a previous Sunday, our Jesus here again wishes rather to give us a useful teaching than to manifest His divine power. It is for this purpose that He does not cure these ten lepers who besought Him to have mercy on them as on another occasion He cured one who was suffering from the same misery. To this latter who besought Him, He restored cleanliness by a few words. This was at the beginning of His public life. He said: “Be made clean, and forthwith the leprosy was cleansed” (Matthew viii. 3). But the lepers of our Gospel is an event that took place in the latter portion of our Lord’s sojourn among men: and they are made clean only while on their way to show themselves to the priests. Jesus sends them to the priests, just as He had done in the previous case, and thus, from the beginning to the close of His mortal life, He gives an example of the respect which was to be paid to the Old Law so long as it was not abrogated. That Law gave to the sons of Aaron the power, not of curing, but of discerning leprosy, and passing judgement on its being cured or not (Leviticus viii.).

The time, however, is now come for a Law that is to be far above that of Sinai, and it has a priesthood whose judgements are not to be concerning the state of the body but, by pronouncing the sentence of absolution, is to effectually remove the leprosy of souls. The cure which the ten lepers felt coming on them before they had reached the priests ought to have sufficed to show them, in Jesus, the power of the new priesthood which had been foretold by the Prophets (Isaias lxvi. 21‒23). The power which, by thus forestalling it in their favour, surpasses the authority of the ancient ministration is, or should be, evidence enough of the superior dignity of Him who exercises it. If only they were in suitable dispositions for the sacred rites which are going to be used in the ceremony of their purification (Leviticus xiv. 1‒32) — the Holy Ghost who, heretofore, had inspired the prophetic details of the mysterious function about to be celebrated, would enable them to understand the signification of the expiatory sparrow whose blood, being sprinkled upon the living water, sets free by the wood its fellow sparrow. That first bird typifies our Lord Jesus Christ who likens Himself, in the Psalm, to the lonely sparrow (Psalm ci. 8). His immolation on the Cross which gives to water the power of cleansing souls, communicates to the other sparrows, His Brethren (Psalm lxxxiii. 4), the purity of the Blood divine.

But the Jew is far from being ready for understanding these great mysteries. And yet the Law had been given to him that it might serve him as a hand leading him to Christ, and without exposing him to err (Galatians iii. 24). It was a signal favour granted him, not from any merits of his own, but because of his Fathers (Deuteronomy iv. 37; ix. 4‒6). The favour was all the more precious, inasmuch as it was bestowed at a time when the tradition regarding a future Redeemer was almost entirely lost by the bulk of mankind. Gratitude should have been uppermost in the heart of Judah but pride took its place. He was so taken up with the honour that had been put on him that it made him lose all desire for the Messiah. He cannot endure the thought that a time will come when the Sun of Justice, having risen for the whole Earth, the limited advantage which was given to a few during the hours of night will be eclipsed by the bright noon of a light which all vie to enjoy. He, therefore, proclaims, that the Old Law is definitive, though the Law protests itself to be but transitory. He, therefore, insists on the perpetuity of the reign of types and shadows. He lays it down as a dogma that no divine intervention can ever equal that made on Sinai: that every future prophet, every Sent of God, must be inferior to Moses: that all possible salvation is in the Law, and that from it alone flows every grace.

This explains to us how it was that of the ten men cured of leprosy by Jesus nine of them are found who have not even the remotest thought of coming to their Deliverer to thank Him: these nine are Jews. Jesus, to their minds, is a mere disciple of Moses, a bare instrument of favours holding his commission from Sinai, and as soon as they have gone through the legal formality of their purification, they take it that all their obligations to God are paid. The Samaritan, the despised Gentile whose sufferings have given him that humility which makes the sinner clear-sighted — he is the only one who recognises God by His divine works, and gives Him thanks for His favours. How many ages of apparent abandonment, of humiliation and suffering must pass over Judah too before he will recognise and adore his God, and confess to him his sins, and give him his devoted love, and, like this stranger, hear Jesus pronounce his pardon, and say: “Arise! Go your way! Your faith has made you whole and saved you!