Volume I, Treatise VIII, Chapter XXI

What Has Been Said in the Preceding Chapter, Confirmed by Examples

Stuon Merapurastss, in the Life of St. John, the almoner, Archbishop of Alexandria, relates that a rich and great man, who had an only son, recommended him to the prayers of this great saint, entreating him very urgently to offer them up for the preservation of his son; and gave withal a great quantity of money into the holy man’s hands, to be distributed amongst the poor for this intention. The saint did what the other desired of him; and at the end of a month, the child died. Whereupon the father was very sensibly afflicted, imagining the alms he had given, and the prayers he had obtained, were of no effect. This coming to the knowledge of the archbishop, he betook himself to prayer for the distressed father, requesting of God that he

- would be pleased to afford him some comfort. Some time after an angel appeared by night to the father of the child, and told him the prayers for his son were heard; that he lived now in heaven; and had he remained longer upon earth he would have been perverted, and rendered unworthy of the eternal happiness he now possessed. He added, that he ought to be assured, nothing happened in this life, but by a just judgment of God, although the causes of these his judgments were unknown to men, and consequently he had done very ill, in permitting himself to be transported with so excessive grief; that on the contrary, he ought to receive with the spirit of submission and gratitude whatever it pleased God to send him. This celestial Vision comforted entirely the afflicted father, and encouraged him to serve God with more fervour than ever.

It is recounted in the History of Thebais, that a certain lady having a great devotion to St. Maurice, who had been Captain to the Theban legion, received thereby a singular grace and favour. This lady had an only son; who had scarce passed his infancy when, in order to train him up in piety from his tender years, she consecrated him to God in the monastery of St. Maurice, according to the custom of those times. It was thus, that in the days of St. Bennet, several persons of quality in Rome, and amongst the rest St. Maurice and St. Placidus, were placed by their parents in the monastery of Mount Cassian; and many years after, St. Thomas of Aquin was sent there by his mother Theodora, and his brothers the Counts of Aquin. The child being settled in the monastery, was taught the belleslettres, morality, and religious discipline, and had been in the practice of singing in choir with the rest, when it pleased God to visit him with a violent fever which carried him off in a short time. His sorrowful mother came to the church, and there in tears and grief accompanied the corpse of her son to the grave; over which she came every day to lament—feeling her grief revive particularly at the time of the divine office, when she reflected with herself that she should never again hear the voice of her son. While she persevered in sorrow, weeping by day in the church, and by night at home, she happened once to be so overwhelmed with grief, that she lay down to take her repose; when behold St. Maurice appeared to her, and having asked her, why she lamented the death of her son so incessantly? The remainder of my life, said she, is not sufficient to dry up the source of my tears, nor to afford me the least comfort in my sorrows. Wherefore I firmly resolve to lament the death of my only and dear child as long as I live; and my tears shall never cease flowing till death closes my eyes, and separates my soul from my body. Woman, answered the saint, trouble not yourself, and lament not your son as dead; for at present he is with us, where he enjoys eternal felicity, and as a proof of this, rise at next matins and go to the church; there you shall hear the voice of your son, who sings with the religious; and you shall have this satisfaction not only to-morrow, but also as often as you shall assist at the divine office. Comfort yourself, therefore, and dry up your tears, since you have much more reason to rejoice than to lament. The afflicted lady waking hereupon, and not knowing for certain whether this apparition were a dream or not, waited with impatience the hour of matins, that she might go to the church and there solve her doubts. But scarce had she entered the church, when she heard her son’s voice, who intoned an Antiphon, and then firmly persuaded that he enjoyed the glory of the blessed, she banished all grief, and gave thanks to God; who having comforted her in this manner, continued the same favour to her till the end of her life.

We read in a grave author (Flor. de Henriq. gran. 1. 4. ¢. lxviii.), that a certain. nobleman was one day a-hunting, and his attendants having rode different ways, in pursuit of the game, he pursued a wild beast into a wood; and as he was eager in the pursuit, he heard the voice of a man, who sung most charmingly. Surprised to hear so sweet a voice in so solitary a place, and knowing it could not be the voice of any of his company; or of any inhabitant of the place, he was curious to know whose it could be. When breaking through the thickets, he perceived a man in a most wretched condition, and so disfigured with leprosy all over his body, that his corrupted flesh fell in pieces to the ground. ‘The nobleman was seized with horror at the sight; yet, doing violence to himself, he approached the leper, saluted him very courteously, and asked him if it was he who had sung, and how he could have so melodious a voice? The leper answered him, it was he who sung, and the voice he used was his natural one. But how can you, replied the noble-

‘man, rejoice in the miserable condition you are in at present? I will tell you, answered the leper: the only separation between God and me is this wall of clay, this body of mine—when this is broken down and removed, then shall I enjoy securely the sight of my Saviour: and as I daily behold it go to ruin, the excess of joy I conceive thereat makes me sing, still awaiting the happy hour when it will fall utterly to pieces; and when my soul, being separated from my body, I will enjoy my God, who is the living fountain, and the inexhaustible source of all sorts of

happiness.

St. Cyprian relates, that a certain bishop being in the agony of death, and having begged of God to prolong his life, there apeared to him a young man environed with resplendent light, who said to him in a grave and severe tone; “You fear the sufferings and difficulties to which you are exposed in the world, and yet you desire not. to be freed from them—what would you have me to do with your” By which he signified to him abundantly that the repugnance he had of quitting this life was in no wise acceptable to God. And St. Cyprian adds; that the angel spoke in these terms to the bishop, in order that being related to others, they might serve for their instruction.

Simon Metaphrastes, cited by Surius, says that the holy Abbot Theodosius, knowing well how profitable the remembrance of death is for a Christian, and endeavouring to excite his religious by this means to virtue, ordered them one day to dig a grave; and, assembling the community who stood round it, see here, said he, the grave finished: but who amongst us all will be the first whose funeral rites will be here performed? At which one of the religious called Basil, who was priest, and whose eminent virtue kept him always prepared for death, stepped forth, and falling upon his knees, before him, said, ‘“Give me your blessing, my father, for if you please, I will be the first for whom the funeral office shall be here performed.” Having urged what he proposed, the saint granted his petition, and ordered presently the prayers and ceremonies used by the Church in the office of the dead to be performed. The office was sung the first day, the third, and the ninth. At the end of forty days, and as soon as ever the obsequies were totally finished, Basil, who was in perfect health, without so much as a small fever, the least pain of the head, or any other sign of sickness whatsoever, passed on a sudden from this life to the other, like one who had fallen into a weak and easy sleep; and went to receive the recompense due to his virtue, and to the earnest desire he had of being re-united tohis Saviour. But that we may more clearly see, how pleasing his zeal had been to God, the first miracle was accompanied with another; and for forty days after his death the holy abbot saw him daily assist at vespers, and sing in the choir with the other religious. There was no one either heard or saw him, except one religious named Aetius; who, hearing, but not seeing him, acquainted the abbot, and asked him if he heard not Basil singing? I hear him, replied the abbot; and what is yet more, I see him: and if you will, you may see him in the same manner I do. Next day, whilst all the religious were at their office in choir, the abbot beheld again Basil, who sung with the rest according to his custom; and pointing his finger, shewed him to Aetius; whereupon they both fell to their prayers, that God would permit Aetius to have a sight of him. Aetius no sooner discerned him, but ran to embrace him; but Basil disappeared immediately, saying with a loud voice, insomuch that all present heard him, “Farewell, my fathers and brothers, farewell; for you will see me no more for the future.”

We read in the History of the Order of St. Austin, that young St. Columban, nephew and disciple to St. Columban the abbot, falling sick and from the holy confidence he had in God, desiring with all earnestness to die, there appeared to him a young man, all glittering with rays of glory, who said; “Know that the prayers of the abbot, and the tears he daily sheds for your recovery, hinder your passage hence.” The sick person, complaining in most tender and affectionate terms to his abbot, and his eyes bathed in tears, saidto him: ‘‘ Why do you detain me in a life so miserable as this is, and hinder me from enjoying that which is eternal?” These words so touched the abbot, that he ceased praying and shedding tears for his nephew, who, after he had received all the sacraments of the Church, and embraced all the religious, reposed happily in our Lord.

St. Ambrose affirms that the people of Thrace were accustomed to weep at the birth of their friends, and to rejoice at their death; esteeming, with good reason, says he, that those who entered the world, where there is nothing but misery and affliction, were worthy of compassion; and that on leaving the world, they were happy, as being recalled from exile, and released from so many evils and calamities. If barbarians who lived in the ignorance and obscurity of paganism, and who had no knowledge of the glory that awaits us after death, behaved themselves in this manner; how ought we behave who are enlightened with the rays of the true faith, and know for certain the happiness laid up in store for us, provided we depart this life in the grace and favour of God? This made the Wise Map say, “The hour of death is to be preferred to that of our nativity.” And that was the reason, says St. Jerom, why the Son of God, on leaving this world to return to his heavenly Father, comforted his disciples, who were troubled and afflicted thereat, by saying, ‘‘If you truly loved me, you would rejoice that I go to my Father.” (John 14:28) But when he determined to raise Lazarus, he wept. He wept not, says the saint, for the death of Lazarus, since he knew he was to be raised to life again; but he wept, because he whom he loved so affectionately was to be exposed anew to the miseries of this life, and to all the calamities of this deplorable exile.

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