NOVEMBER I
ALL SAINTS
THE church in this great festival honors all the saints reigning together in glory; first, to give thanks to God for the graces and crown of all his elect: secondly, to excite ourselves to a fervent imitation of their virtues by considering the holy example of so many faithful servants of God of all ages, sexes, and conditions, and by contemplating the inexpressible and eternal bliss which they already enjoy, and to which we are invited: thirdly, to implore the divine mercy through this multitude of powerful intercessors: fourthly, to repair any failures or sloth in not having duly honored God in his saints on their particular festivals, and to glorify him in the saints which are unknown to us, or for which no particular festivals are appointed. Therefore our fervor on this day ought to be such, that it may be a reparation of our sloth in all the other feasts of the year; they being all comprised in this one solemn commemoration, which is an image of that eternal great feast which God himself continually celebrates in heaven with all his saints, whom we humbly join in praising his adorable goodness for all his mercies, particularly for all treasures of grace which he has most munificently heaped upon them.* In this and all other festivals of the saints, God is the only object of supreme worship, and the whole of that inferior veneration which is paid to the saints is directed to give sovereign honor to God alone, whose gifts their graces are; and our addresses to them are only petitions to holy fellow-creatures for the assistance of their prayers to God for us. When therefore we honor the saints, in them and through them we honor God, and Christ true God and true Man, the Redeemer and Saviour of mankind, and King of the Saints, and the source of all their sanctity and glory. In his blood they have washed their robes; from him they derive all their purity, whiteness, and lustre. We consider their virtues as copies taken from him the great original, as streams from his fountain, or as images of his virtues produced by the effusion of his spirit and grace in them. His divine life is their great exemplar and prototype, and in the characteristical virtues of each saint, some of his most eminent virtues are particularly set forth; his hidden life in the solitude of the anchorets; his spotless purity in the virgins; his patience or charity in some; his divine zeal in others: in them all in some degree his plenitude of all virtue and sanctity. Nor are the virtues of the saints only transcripts and copies of the life or spirit of Christ; they are also the fruit of his redemption; entirely his gifts and graces. And when we honor the saints we honor and praise him who is the author of all their good; so that all festivals of saints are instituted to honor God and our Blessed Redeemer.
In all feasts of saints, especially in this solemn festival of All Saints, it ought to be the first part of our devotion to praise and thank God for the infinite goodness he has displayed in favor of his elect. A primary and most indispensable homage we owe to God, is that of praise, the first act of love, and complacency in God and his adorable perfections. Hence the psalms, the most perfect and inspired model of devotions, repeat no sentiments so frequently or with so much ardor as those of divine adoration and praise. This is the uninterrupted sweet employment of the blessed in heaven to all eternity; and the contemplation of the divine love, and other perfections, is a perpetual incentive inflaming them continually afresh in it, so that they cannot cease pouring forth all their affections, and exhausting all their powers; and conceive every moment new ardor in this happy function of pure love. So many holy solitaries of both sexes in this life have renounced all commerce and pleasures of the world, to devote themselves wholly to the mixed exercises of praise and love, and of compunction and humble supplication. In these, all servants of God find their spiritual strength, refreshment, advancement, delight, and joy. If they are not able here below to praise God incessantly with their voice or actual affections of their hearts, they study to do it always by desire, and by all their actions strive to make the whole tenor of their life an uninterrupted homage of praise to God. This tribute we pay him, first, for his own adorable majesty, justice, sanctity, power, goodness, and glory; rejoicing in the boundless infinitude of his perfections we call forth all our own faculties and all our strength; summon all the choir of the creation to praise him, and find it our delight to be vanquished and overwhelmed by his unexhausted greatness, to which all our praises are infinitely inadequate, and of which all conceptions fall infinitely short; so as not to bear the least degree of proportion to them. To aid our weakness, and supply our insufficiency, in magnifying the infinite Lord of all things, and exalting his glory, we have recourse to the spotless victim, the sacrifice of the Lamb of God, put into our hands for us to offer a holocaust of infinite price, equal to the majesty of the Godhead. We also rejoice in the infinite glory which God possesses in himself, and from himself. Deriving from himself infinite greatness and infinite happiness, he stands not in need of our goods, and can receive no accession from our homages as to internal glory; in which consists his sovereign bliss. But there is an external glory which he receives from the obedience and praise of his creatures, which, though it increase not his happiness, is nevertheless indispensably due to him, and an external homage with which all beings are bound to sound forth his sovereign power and sanctity. Nor do we owe him this only for his own greatness and glory, which he possesses in himself, but also for the goodness, justice, wisdom, and power which he manifests in all his works. Compounds of the divine mercies, as we are, we are bound to give to God incessant thanks for all the benefits both in the order of nature and of grace, which he has gratuitously conferred upon us. We owe him also an acknowledgment of praise and thanksgiving for all his creatures from the beginning, and for all the wonders he has wrought in them or in their behalf. For this the psalmist and the prophets so often rehearse his mighty works, and invite all beings to magnify his holy name for them.
It is in his saints that he is wonderful above all his other works.1 For them was this world framed: for their sakes is it preserved and governed. In the revolutions of states and empires, and in the extirpation or conservation of cities and nations, God has his elect chiefly in view. By the secret unerring order of his most tender and all-wise providence, All things work together for good to them.2 For their sake will God shorten the evil days in the last period of the world.3 For the sanctification of one chosen soul he often conducts innumerable second causes, and hidden springs. Nor can we wonder hereat, seeing that for his elect his coeternal Son was born and died, has wrought so many wonders, performed so many mysteries, instituted so many great sacraments, and established his church on earth. The justification of a sinner, the sanctification of a soul, is the fruit of numberless stupendous works, the most wonderful exertion of infinite goodness and mercy, and of almighty power. The creation of the universe out of nothing is a work which can bear no comparison with the salvation of a soul through the redemption of Christ. And with what infinite condescension and tenderness does the Lord of all things watch over every one of his elect! With what unspeakable invisible gifts does he adorn them! To how sublime and astonishing a dignity does he exalt them, making them companions of his blessed angels, and coheirs with his Divine Son! Weak and frail men, plunged in the gulf of sin, he, by his omnipotent arm, and by the most adorable and stupendous mercy, has rescued from the slavery of the devil and jaws of hell; has cleansed them from all stains; and by the ornaments of his grace, has rendered them most beautiful and glorious. And with what honor has he crowned them! To what an immense height of immortal glory has he raised them! and by what means? His grace conducted them by humility, patience, charity, and penance, through ignominies, torments, pains, sorrows, mortifications, and temptations to joy and bliss, by the cross to their crowns. Lazarus, who, here below, was covered with ulcers, and denied the crumbs of bread which fell from the rich man’s table, is now seated on a throne of glory, and replenished with delights, which neither eye hath seen, nor ear hath heard. Poor fishermen, here the outcast of the world, are made assessors with Christ in judging the world at the last day: so great will be the glory and honor with which they will be placed on thrones at his right hand, and bear testimony to the equity of the sentence which he will pronounce against the wicked. Thy friends are exceedingly honored, O God.4 These glorious citizens of the heavenly Jerusalem he has chosen out of all the tribes of the children of Israel,5 and out of all nations, without any distinction of Greek or barbarian; persons of all ages, showing, there is no age which is not ripe or fit for heaven; and out of all states and conditions; in the throne amidst the pomp of worldly grandeur; in the cottage in the army; in trade; in the magistracy; clergymen, monks, virgins, married persons, widows, slaves, and freemen. In a word, what state is there that has not been honored with its saints? And they were all made saints by the very occupations of their states, and by the ordinary occurrences of life; prosperity and adversity; health and sickness; honor and contempt; riches and poverty; all which they made the means of their sanctification by the constant exercise of patience, humility, meekness, charity, resignation, and devotion. This is the manifold grace of God.6 He has employed all means, he has set all things at work to show in ages to come the abundant riches of his grace.7 How do these happy souls, eternal monuments of God’s infinite power and clemency, praise his goodness without ceasing! I will sing to the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously, &c.8 And casting their crowns before his throne they give to him all the glory of their triumphs.9 “His gifts alone in us he crowns.”* We are called upon with the whole church militant on earth to join the church triumphant in heaven in praising and thanking our most merciful God for the graces and glory he has bestowed on his saints. Shall we not, at the same time, earnestly conjure him to exert his omnipotence and mercy in raising us from all our spiritual miseries and sins, healing the disorders of our souls, and conducting us through the paths of true penance to the happy company of his saints, to which he has vouchsafed most graciously to invite us?
Nothing can more powerfully incite us to aspire with all our strength to the incomparable happiness and blessed company of the saints than their example. Nor can any thing more strongly inflame us with holy emulation than the constant meditation on that glory of which they are even now possessed, and in which they earnestly wait for us to join them. How does their immortality inspire us with a contempt of the inconstant, perishable, and false honors of this world! How does the unspeakable joy of that state, which satisfies all the desires, and fills the whole capacity of the heart, make us sovereignly despise the false, empty pleasures of this life, and trample under our feet the threats and persecutions of a blind world, with all that we can suffer from it, or in it! Are we not transported out of ourselves at the thought that, by the divine mercy and grace, we are capable of attaining to this state of immense and endless bliss? And do we not, from our hearts, this moment bid adieu forever to all pursuits, occupations, and desires, which can be an impediment to us herein, and embrace all means which can secure to us the possession of our great and only good. Do we not burn with a holy desire of being admitted into the society of the friends of God, and being crowned by him in this blessed company with eternal joy and glory? A certain general who, from the rank of a common soldier, had, by his valor and conduct, raised himself to the dignity and command of lieutenant-general, used sometimes familiarly to converse with his soldiers, and tell them that he once carried his musket, stood sentry, lived and bore fatigues like them. He used to relate how in sieges he had dug the trenches, carried fascines, been the first man in mounting a breach, making an assault, or forcing a dangerous pass. He gave them an account upon what occasion and by what means he was made a sergeant, and gradually advanced to the posts of lieutenant, captain, colonel, and general officer. It is not to be easily conceived with what ardor his soldiers were fired by such discourses, and by such an example which they had before their eyes. The greatest fatigues and dangers were to them at that time no longer a subject of complaint, but of joy and ambition, while every one seemed to himself to see a door by such means open to him to some degree of preferment. Yet they could not but be sensible how great the odds were against them, through how many dangers the very least promotion was to be purchased, and after all that could be done by them, after the greatest exploits and most happy success on their side, the reward and honor which they had in view was too extraordinary, too precarious, and depended too much upon the caprices of favor and fortune rationally to raise high expectations. In the affair of our salvation the case is quite otherwise. The option is in our own breast: how exalted and how immense soever the glory is to which we aspire, it is God who invites us, and who is our light and our strength: by his grace, which can never fail but through our fault, we are sure to attain to that state of bliss which will never have an end, and which is far beyond all we can imagine possible. So many happy saints are already arrived there. By their example they have pointed out the way to us. We have but to tread their steps. They were once what we now are, travellers on earth; they had the same weaknesses which we have: Elias was a man subject to the same infirmities as we are, says St. James;10 so were all the saints. We have difficulties to encounter, so had all the saints, and many of them far greater than we can meet with. They had the allurements of vice, and several of them the flatteries of courts to resist, with a thousand particular obstacles from kings and princes, from the interest of whole nations, from the seduction and snares of fawning, worldly friends, from the rancor and injustice of enemies, sometimes from the prisons, racks, and swords of persecutors, and from an infinity of other circumstances. Yet they bravely surmounted these difficulties, which they made the very means of their virtue and sanctity by their victories and triumphs over these enemies, and by their extreme watchfulness over themselves, their fervor in continual prayer, mortification, and penance, their plentiful alms-deeds, and their ardor in the exercise of all good works, to which their alarming dangers served much more strongly to excite them.
Do we complain of our frailty? The saints were made of the same mould with us. But being sensible of their weakness, they were careful to retrench all incentives of their passions, to shun all dangerous occasions of sin, to ground themselves in the most profound humility, and to strengthen themselves by the devout use of the sacraments, prayer, an entire distrust in themselves, and other means of grace. It was by the strength they received from above, not by their own, that they triumphed over both their domestic and their external enemies. We have the same succors by which they were victorious. The blood of Christ was shed for us as it was for them; the all-powerful grace of our Redeemer is not wanting to us, but the failure is in ourselves. If difficulties start up, if temptations affright us, if enemies stand in our way like monsters and giants, which seem ready to devour us,11 let us not lose courage, but redouble our earnestness, crying out with Josue,12 The Lord is with us. Why do we fear? If the world pursue us, let us remember that the saints fought against it in all its shapes. If our passions are violent, Jesus has furnished us with arms to tame them, and hold them in subjection. How furious assaults have many saints sustained in which they were supported by victorious grace! Many, with the Baptist, happily prevented the rebellion of these domestic enemies by early watchfulness, abstinence, and retirement. Others God suffered for their own advantage to feel their furious buffets; but animated them to vigilance and fervor, and crowned them with victories, by which they at length brought these enemies into subjection. Of this many are instances who had had the misfortune formerly to have fortified their passions by criminal habits. St. Austin, after having been engaged many years in irregular courses, conquered them. How many other holy penitents broke stronger chains than ours can be, by courageously using violence upon themselves, and became eminent saints! Can we, then, for shame think the difficulties we apprehend an excuse for our sloth, which, when we resolutely encounter them, we shall find to be more imaginary than real? Shall we shrink at the thought of self-denial, penance, or prayer? Shall not we dare to undertake or to do what numberless happy troops of men and women have done, and daily do? So many tender virgins, so many youths of the most delicate complexion and education, so many princes and kings, so many of all ages, constitutions, and conditions, have courageously walked before us! “Canst not thou do what these and those persons of both sexes have done?”* said St. Austin to himself. Their example wonderfully inspires us with resolution, and silences all the pretexts of pusillanimity. To set before our eyes a perfect model of the practice of true virtue, the Son of God became man, and lived among us. That we may not say the example of a God-man is too exalted for us, we have that of innumerable saints, who, inviting us to take up the sweet yoke of Christ, say to us with St. Paul, Be you imitators of me, even as I am of Christ.13 They were men in all respects like ourselves, so that our sloth and cowardice can have no excuse. They form a cloud of witnesses, demonstrating to us, from their own experience, that the practice of Christian perfection is easy and sweet. They will rise up and condemn the wicked at the last day, covering them with inexpressible confusion: Thou raisest up thy witnesses against me.14 To animate and encourage ourselves in the vigorous pursuit of Christian perfection, and in advancing towards the glory of the saints, we ought often to lift up our eyes to heaven, and contemplate these glorious conquerors of the world, clothed with robes of immortality, and say to ourselves: These were once mortal, weak men, subject to passions and miseries as we are now: and if we are faithful to our sacred engagements to God, we shall very shortly be made companions of their glory, and attain to the same bliss. But for this we must walk in their steps; that is to say, we must with them take up our cross, renounce the world and ourselves, and make our lives a course of labor, prayer, and penance. We are lost if we seek any other path. We must either renounce the world and the flesh with the saints, or we renounce heaven with the wicked.
There is but one Gospel, but one Redeemer and divine Legislator, Jesus Christ, and but one Heaven. No other road can lead us thither but that which he has traced out to us the rule of salvation laid down by him is invariable. It is a most pernicious and false persuasion, either that Christians in the world are not bound to aim at perfection, or that they may be saved by a different path from that of the saints. The torrent of example in the world imperceptibly instils this error into the minds of many,—that there is a kind of middle way of going to heaven; and under this notion, because the world does not live up to the gospel, they bring the gospel down to the level or standard of the world. It is not by the example of the world that we are to measure the Christian rule, but by the pure maxims of the gospel. All Christians are commanded to labor to become holy and perfect, as our heavenly Father is perfect, and to bear his image, and resemble him by spotless sanctity, that we may be his children. We are obliged, by the law of the gospel, to die to ourselves by the extinction of inordinate self-love in our hearts, by the crucifixion of the old man, and the mastery and regulation of our passions. It is no less indispensable an injunction laid on us than on them, that we be animated with, and live by, the Spirit of Christ; that is, the spirit of sincere and perfect humility, meekness, charity, patience, piety, and all other divine virtues. These are the conditions under which Christ makes us his promises, and enrols us among his children, as is manifest from all the divine instructions which he has given us in the gospel, and those which the apostles have left us in their inspired writings. Here is no distinction made between the apostles, or clergymen, or religious and secular persons. The former indeed take upon themselves certain stricter obligations, as means of accomplishing more easily and more perfectly these lessons, but the law of sanctity and of a disengagement of the heart from the world is general, and binds all the followers of Christ, all who can be entitled to inherit his promises. Now, what marks do we find in the lives of Christians of this crucifixion of their passions, and of the Spirit of Christ reigning in their hearts and actions? Do not detraction, envy, jealousy, anger, antipathies, resentments, vanity, love of the world, ambition, and pride, discover themselves in their conversation and conduct, and as strongly as in the very heathens? It is in vain to plead that these are sins of surprise. It is manifest that they are sins of habit, and that these passions hold the empire in their hearts. An interior disposition of charity, meekness, and other virtues, would give a very contrary turn to their conversation and behavior, and would make them like the saints, humble, peaceable, mild, obliging to all, and severe only to themselves. The dirt lies always lurking in their hearts; the provocation and occasion only stirs it up, and shows it to be there. It is in vain that such persons shelter themselves under a pretended course of a pious life, and allege that they are regular in their prayers, in frequenting the sacraments, and in other duties, and are liberal in their alms; all this is imperfect so long as they neglect the foundation, which is the mortification of their passions. They are unacquainted with the very soul of a Christian spirit, which was that of all the saints.
What, then, is the first duty of one who desires to become a disciple of Christ? This is a most important point, which very few sufficiently attend to. The first thing which a Christian is bound to study is, in what manner he is to die to himself and his passions. This is the preliminary article or condition which Christ requires of him, before he can be admitted into his divine school. For this such a practice of the exterior mortification of the senses is necessary that they may be kept under due government; but the interior denial of the will and restraint of the passions is the most essential part, and is chiefly effected by extirpating pride, vanity, revenge, and other irregular passions, and planting in the heart the most perfect spirit of humility, meekness, patience, and charity. The motives and rules of these virtues ought to be studied and meditated upon, according to every one’s capacity; both interior and exterior acts of each must be frequently and fervently exercised, and the contrary vices diligently watched against and vigorously curbed. By diligent self-examination all the foldings of the heart must be laid open, every vicious inclination discovered, and the axe laid to the root, that the disorder may be cut off. Thus must we study to die to ourselves. By the frequent use of the sacraments, assiduous prayer, pious reading, or meditation, and the practice of devout aspirations, we must unite our souls to God. This crucifixion of self-love and union of our hearts to God are the two general means by which the Spirit of Christ must be formed and daily improved in us, and by which we shall be imitators of the saints. This task requires earnest application, and some consideration and leisure from business. How much time do we give to every other improvement of mind or body! the student to cultivate his understanding in any art or science! the artisan to learn his trade! and so of every other profession. And shall we not find time to reform our hearts, and to adorn our souls with virtue?* which is our great and only business, upon which the good use of all other qualifications, and both our temporal and eternal happiness depend. In virtue consists the true excellence and dignity of our nature. Against this great application to the means of our sanctification, some object the dissipation and hurry of the world in which they live; they doubt not but they could do this if they were monks or hermits. All this is mere illusion. Instead of confessing their own sloth to be the source of their disorders, they charge their faults on their state and circumstances in the world. But we have all the reason in the world to conclude that the conduct of such persons would be more scandalous and irregular in a monastery than it is in the world. Every thing is a danger to him who carries the danger about with him.
But can any one pretend that seculars can be excused from the obligation of subduing their passions, retrenching sin, and aiming at perfection? Are they not bound to save their souls; that is, to be saints? God, who commands all to aim at perfection, yet whose will it is at the same time that to live in the world should be the general state of mankind, is not contrary to himself. That all places in the world should be filled, is God’s express command; also that the duties of every station in it be faithfully complied with.15 He requires, not then that men abandon their employs in the world, but that by a disengagement of heart, and religious motive or intention, they sanctify them. Thus has every lawful station in the world been adorned with saints. God obliges not men in the world to leave their business; but on the contrary, he commands them diligently to discharge every branch of their temporal stewardship. The tradesman is bound to attend to his shop, the husbandman to his tillage, the servant to his work, the master to the care of his household and estates. These are essential duties which men owe to God, to the public, to themselves, and to their children and families; a neglect of which, whatever else they do, will suffice to damn them. But then they must always reserve to themselves leisure for spiritual and religious duties; they must also sanctify all the duties of their profession. This is to be done by a good intention. It is the motive of our actions upon which, in a moral and Christian sense, the greatest part, or sometimes the whole of every action depends. This is the soul of our actions; this determines them, forms their character, and makes them virtues or vices. If avarice, vain-glory, sensuality, or the like inordinate inclinations influence the course of our actions, it is evident to what class they belong; and this is the poison which infects even the virtuous part of those who have never studied to mortify their passions. Thus the very virtues of the foolish drudgers for popular fame among the ancient philosophers, were false; they have already received their reward, the empty applause of men. The Christian who would please God, must carefully exclude in his actions all interested views of self-love, and direct all things he does purely to the glory of God, desiring only to accomplish his holy will in the most perfect manner. Thus a spirit of divine love and zeal, of compunction, penance, patience, and other virtues, will animate and sanctify his labor and all that he does. In the course of all these actions he must watch against the dangerous insinuation of his passions, must study on all occasions to exercise humility meekness, charity, and other virtues, the opportunities of which continually occur; and he ought from time to time, by some short fervent aspiration, to raise his heart to God. Thus the Isidores and Homobons sanctified their employs. Did the Pauls or Antonies do more in their deserts? unless perhaps the disengagement of their hearts, and the purity and fervor of their affections and intentions were more perfect, upon which a soul’s progress in sanctity depends.
But slothful Christians allege the difficulty of this precept; they think that perfectly to die to themselves is a severe injunction. God forbid any one should widen the path, which the Saviour of the world has declared to be narrow. It is doubtless difficult, and requires resolution and courage. Who can think that heaven will cost him nothing which cost all the saints so much? What temporal advantage is gained without pains? The bread of laborers, the riches of misers, the honors of the ambitious, cost much anxiety and pains. Yet, what empty shadows, what racking tortures, what real miseries are the enjoyments which worldlings purchase at so dear a rate! But it is only to our inordinate appetites (which we are bound to mortify, and the mortification of which will bring us liberty and true joy) that the doctrine of self-denial appears harsh. And its fruits in the soul are the reign of divine love, and the sweet peace of God which surpasseth all understanding;16 which springs from the government of the passions, and the presence of the Holy Ghost in the soul, and is attended with a pure and holy joy which fills the whole capacity of the heart, and which the whole world can never take from the servant of God. This precious gift and comfort does not totally forsake him under the severest interior trials, with which God suffers his servants to be sometimes visited in this life for their greatest advantage; under which they are also supported by the prospect of eternal glory. And even in this present life their sufferings are often repaid by the inexpressible consolations which the Holy Ghost infuses into their hearts, so that they receive a hundred-fold for all that they have forsaken for God. The wicked have told me their fables; but not as thy law, O Lord.17 A voice of joy and salvation rings in the tabernacles of the just.18 Compare the state of the greatest worldly monarch with that of the humble servant of God.19 Power, riches, and pleasure, constitute the king’s imaginary happiness. Nations conspire to obey his will or even prevent his inclinations. The earth is silent before him. At his orders, armies march, lay whole countries waste, or sacrifice their lives. He punishes by his very countenance, and scatters favors at pleasure, without any one asking him a reason. Even princes approach him with trembling, count it their greatest happiness and honor if he vouchsafes to receive their homages, and, with the countenances of slaves, study in his eyes what sacrifice he requires of them. Is this that happy state of independence and power which the world admires? Certainly there cannot be a baser slavery, than that of the world and the passions. Only the servant of God enjoys true liberty and independence, who fears only God, and has no concern but for his duty, is equally resigned under all vicissitudes of fortune, as much raised above all consideration of human respect as he is disengaged from this world; yet, by charity, shares in the prosperity of all his neighbors as in his own. Neither can injuries or affronts reach his person, who, fenced by meekness, patience, and charity receives them as great opportunities of his spiritual advantage, and considers them as sent by God in infinite wisdom and tender love and mercy. A king is exposed to greater disappointments and troubles, as his concerns are greater, and his passions usually more impetuous. And is not the very grandeur and happiness of a king dependen upon others? and upon men whose favor is caprice? If he would reign by being feared, so as to say in his heart, “Let them hate, provided they fear me,” he bears in his heart all the seeds of tyranny and pride, and will be sure to have almost as many secret enemies as he has subjects. If he studies to gain the affections and love of his people by clemency and kindnesses, he will find the generality so blind as neither to know what is for their good, nor what they themselves desire; likewise ungrateful, whom benefits only embolden to be more insolent. If his power be so frail and so troublesome, shall we admire his riches? Is not he rather the poorest of men, whose wants are the greatest, and whose desires are usually the most craving? Him we ought justly to esteem the richest, whose necessities are fewest, and who knows not what more to ask or desire; and this, whether he live in a cell or a palace. A king’s pleasures are much abated because cheaper than those of others; for human enjoyments consist greatly in the pursuit; or, at least, it is by the eagerness of the pursuit that they are chiefly enhanced. If he be a stranger to virtue, his breast, amidst the glittering pomp which surrounds him, will often be miserably torn by all those passions which successively tyrannize over him, and will be a prey to corroding cares which embitter all enjoyments. The beautiful fat ox in the fable could not taste the rich pasture, but ran and roared, as it were, to call for compassion and help, because a contemptible insect, a little gnat, shot its sting into his nostrils. A man who governed the Persian empire under the king, could not take his rest, or find any pleasure in all that he possessed, because Mordecai, the Jew, refused to bow down to him at the gate of the palace. Thus does the most trifling check, or the most petty rage or envy, raise storms in the breasts of the wicked. Their pleasures are base, empty, and vain; whatever false joy they may give for a passing moment, this is dearly earned by succeeding pains; however these may be disguised from others, they are not less sharp or gnawing. Many who are seated on the pinnacle of human grandeur, are a burden to themselves, while they are the object of others’ envy.
Have we not then reason to conclude with St. Chrysostom, that happiness is not to be sought in the gratification of pride and worldly passions; which the oracles of eternal truth clearly confirm? But we are assured by the same unerring authority, that it is to be found in a steady practice of virtue. Hence the virtues in which the renunciation of ourselves consists, as humility, compunction, meekness, and the rest,20 are by our divine Redeemer himself styled Beatitudes, because they not only lead to happiness, but also bring with them a present happiness, such as our state of trial is capable of. This Christ gives in the bargain as an earnest of his love and promises But the recompense of the saints reserved in the kingdom of God’s glory is such as alone to make every thing that can be suffered here, for so great a crown, light and of no consideration. The examples of the saints show us the path; and their glory strongly animates our hope, and excites our fervor. “It is our interest,” says St. Bernard,21 “to honor the memory of the saints, not theirs. Would you know how it is our interest? From the remembrance of them I feel, I confess, a triple vehement desire kindled in my breast; of their company, of their bliss, and of their intercession. First, of their company. To think of the saints is in some measure to see them. Thus we are in part, and this the better part of ourselves, in the land of the living, provided our affection goes along with our thoughts or remembrance yet not as they are. The saints are there present, and in their persons; we are there only in affection and desires. Ah! when shall we join our fathers? when shall we be made the fellow-citizens of the blessed spirits, of the patriarchs, prophets, apostles, martyrs, and virgins? when shall we be mixed in the choir of the saints? The remembrance of each one among the saints is, as it were, a new spark, or rather torch which sets our souls more vehemently on fire, and makes us ardently sigh to behold and embrace them, so that we seem to ourselves even now to be amongst them. And from this distant place of banishment we dart our affections sometimes towards the whole assembly, sometimes towards this, and sometimes that happy spirit. What sloth is it, that we do not launch our souls into the midst of those happy troops, and burst hence by continual sighs! The church of the first-born waits for us; yet we loiter. The saints earnestly long for our arrival; yet we despise them. Let us with all the ardor of our souls prevent those who are expecting us; let us hasten to those who are waiting for us.” Secondly, he mentions the desire of their bliss; and, lastly, the succor of their intercession, and adds: “Have pity on me, have pity on me, at least you my friends. You know our danger, our frail mould, our ignorance, and the snares of our enemies; you know our weakness, and the fury of their assaults. For I speak to you who have been under the like temptation; who have overcome the like assaults; have escaped the like snares, and have learned compassion from what yourselves have suffered. We are members of the same Head. Your glory is not to be consummated without us,” &c.
This succor of the saints’ intercession is another advantage which we reap by celebrating their festivals, of which the same St. Bernard22 writes: “He who was powerful on earth is more powerful in heaven, where he stands before the face of his Lord. And if he had compassion on sinners and prayed for them while he lived on earth, he now prays to the Father for us so much the more earnestly as he more truly knows our extreme necessities and miseries; his blessed country has not changed, but increased his charity. Though now impassible, he is not a stranger to compassion: by standing before the throne of mercy he has put on the tender bowels of mercy,” &c.
ST. CÆSARIUS, M.
AT Terracina in Italy it was an impious and barbarous custom, on certain very solemn occasions, for a young man to make himself a voluntary sacrifice to Apollo, the tutelar deity of the city. After having been long caressed and pampered by the citizens, apparelled in rich gaudy ornaments, he offered sacrifice to Apollo, and running full speed from this ceremony, threw himself headlong from a precipice into the sea, and was swallowed up by the waves. Cæsarius, a holy deacon from Africa, happened once to be present at this tragical scene, and not being able to contain his zeal, spoke openly against so abominable a superstition. The priest of the idol caused him to be apprehended, and accused him before the governor, by whose sentence the holy deacon, together with a Christian priest named Lucian, was put into a sack, and cast into the sea, in 300, the persecution of Dioclesian then raging. St. Gregory the Great mentions an ancient church of St. Cæsarius in Rome.1 It had lain long in ruins, when it was magnificently rebuilt by Clement VIII., who created his little nephew Sylvester Aldobrandini cardinal deacon of this church. St. Cæsarius is mentioned with distinction in the Sacramentary of St. Gregory, in the Martyrology of the seventh age, published by the learned Jesuit Fronto le Duc, and in those of Bede, Usuard, &c. His modern acts in Surius are of small authority.
ST. MARY, M.
GOD, who, in the distribution of his graces, makes no distinction of condition amongst men, raised a humble female slave to the dignity of martyrdom; and, in the proud capital of the world, the boasted triumphs of its deified conquerors and heroes were all eclipsed by the admirable courage and virtue of a weak woman. Mary was slave to Tertullus, a Roman senator, a Christian from her cradle, though the only person in that great family who was favored with that grace. She prayed much, and fasted frequently, especially on all the idolatrous festivals. This devotion displeased her superstitious mistress; but her fidelity, diligence, and approved probity endeared her to her master. Dioclesian’s bloody edicts against the Christians filling all places with terror, Tertullus privately made use of every artifice to engage Mary to renounce her faith. But neither the caresses of an indulgent master, nor the apprehension of his indignation and chastisements, could shake her constancy. The senator fearing to lose her if she fell into the hands of the prefect, out of a barbarous compassion, in hopes of making her change her resolution, caused her to be unmercifully whipped, and then to be locked up in a dark cellar for thirty days, where no other sustenance was allowed her but bread and water. Prayer, in the mean time, was her comfort and strength, and it was her joy to lose all the favor she could promise to herself in this world, and to suffer torments for Christ. The matter at length taking wind, the judge made it a crime in Tertullus that he had concealed a Christian in his house, and the slave was forthwith delivered up to him. At her examination her answers were firm but modest. The mob in the court hearing her confess the name of Christ, demanded with loud clamors that she should be burnt alive. The martyr stood praying secretly that God would give her constancy, and said to the judge: “God, whom I serve, is with me; and I fear not your torments, which can only take away a life which I desire to lay down for Jesus Christ.” The judge commanded her to be tormented; which was executed with such cruelty, that the unconstant giddy mob tumultuously cried out that they were not able any longer to bear so horrible a spectacle, and entreated that she might be released. The judge, to appease the commotion, ordered the lictors to take her from the rack, and committed her to the custody of a soldier. The virgin, fearing chiefly for her chastity, found means to escape out of her keeper’s hands, and fled to the mountains. She finished her course by a happy death, though not by the sword. She is styled a martyr in the Roman and other Martyrologies, that title being usually given by St. Cyprian in his epistles, and by other ancient writers, to all who had suffered torments with constancy and perseverance for Christ. See her genuine acts published by Baluze, Miscel. t. 2, p. 115; also the Martyrologies of Bede, Ado, Usuard, &c.
ST. MARCELLUS, BISHOP OF PARIS, C.
HE was born at Paris in the fourth age, of parents not conspicuous for any rank in the world, but on whom his virtue reflected the greatest honor. Purity of heart, modesty, meekness, mortification, and charity, were the ingredients of his character in his youth; and he gave himself entirely to the discipline of virtue and prayer, so as to seem, while he lived in the flesh disengaged both from the world and the flesh, says the author of his life. The uncommon gravity of his manners, and his progress in sacred learning so strongly recommended him to Prudentius, bishop of Paris, that when he was yet young this prelate ordained him reader of that church. From this tune the saint is said to have given frequent proofs of a wonderful gift of miracles. He was afterwards promoted to the dignity of priesthood, and upon the decease of Prudentius was unanimously chosen bishop of Paris. As he undertook this charge by compulsion and with trembling, so a just apprehension of its obligations made him always humble, watchful, and indefatigable in all his functions. It is related that among other miracles he freed the country from a great serpent which inhabited the sepulchre of an adulteress. But the circumstances of this action depend upon the authority of one who wrote near two hundred years after the time, and who, being a foreigner, took them upon trust, and probably upon popular reports. The saint died in the beginning of the fifth century, on the 1st of November, on which day he is named in the Roman Martyrology, though in the Gallican his feast is deferred to the 3d. His body was buried about a quarter of a league from Paris, in a village which is now joined to the town, and called the suburb of St. Marceau. His relics have been long since kept in the cathedral. See the life of St. Marcellus by Fortunatus,* published by Surius.
ST. BENIGNUS, PRIEST, MARTYR
APOSTLE OF BURGUNDY
AMONG the holy Roman missionaries who preached the faith in Gaul, in the third century, St. Benignus laid the foundation of the church of Burgundy, and received the crown of martyrdom near Dijon, probably in the reign of Aurelian, who, in 272, raised a cruel persecution against the Christians, and after his victory over Zenobia in the East, waged war in Gaul, and led Tetricus, the Gaulish general, in triumph. This emperor is said to have built the town of Dijon, which was a place of no great note till long after this it became the seat of many of the sovereign dukes of Burgundy; since which time, there are few gayer cities in France. St. Gregory of Tours relates several miracles hat were wrought at the tomb of St. Benignus in this town, and says that his mother, by watching all night before it in prayer, on the eve of his festival, on the 1st of November, obtained of God that her whole family in Auvergne was preserved from a pestilence called lues inguinaria. In the life of St. Anno, archbishop of Cologne, we are told that the relics of St. Benignus were afterwards translated into Germany. The abbey of St. Benignus at Dijon was founded in the sixth century. See St. Gregory of Tours, l. de Glor. Mart. c. 51, 55; Tillemont, t. 3, p. 422. The acts of St. Benignus are of no authority.
ST. AUSTREMONIUS
WHO in the third century planted the faith with great zeal in Auvergne, and died a holy confessor, is also honored on this day. His head is preserved in the abbey which bears his name at Issoire in Lower Auvergne; the rest of his relics chiefly in the abbey of Mauzac near Riom; and at Pierre-Encise or St. Guoine in Aquitaine. His name was famous in France in the eighth century, and is mentioned in the Roman Martyrology. See St. Gregory of Tours, Hist. l. 1, c. 30, and de Glor. Confes. c. 30; Tillem. t. 4. Baillet, &c. Mabillon has published the history of the translation of his relics to Mauzac, with remarks, sec. 3, Bened. part 2.
ST. HAROLD VI., KING OF DENMARK, M.
THE archbishops of Bremen from St. Willehad the apostle of Saxony, and St. Anscharius, the first archbishop of Bremen, labored successively in planting the faith in the northern parts of Europe. Eric the Younger, king of Denmark, was converted to the faith by St. Anscharius. But his successors persecuted the Christians till Fronto VI. king of Denmark, brother and successor of Swein I., embraced the faith of Christ in his wars in England, and sent an ambassador to pope Agapetus II., about the year 950; but died before the return of the embassy, so that his conversion produced little fruit in that nation. Gormo III., the third king from him, was a cruel persecutor of the Christians, and demolished a church which they had built at Sleswic. But marrying Thyra, an English princess, he promised to become a Christian. His son and successor, Harold VI., surnamed Blodrand, embraced the faith with great ardor, and filled his dominions with churches and preachers; in which he was chiefly assisted by Adalbag, the most zealous archbishop of Bremen, the seventh from St. Anscharius, contemporary with Otho the Great, who, about the same time, founded the city and church of Magdeburgh. Adalbag instituted three bishoprics in Jutland, which this king endowed. When he had reigned many years, his son Swein, surnamed Tweskegk, who remained at that time an idolater,* stirred up the people to demand the restoration of their idols, and their ancient liberty to plunder their neighbors. The king was wounded in battle by one Toko, a leader of the malecontents, and died some days after of his wounds, on the 1st of November, 980. He was buried in the church of the Holy Trinity, which he had founded at Roschilde, and which continues to this day the burial-place of the Danish kings. On a pillar in the choir, over the grave of this king, is his effigies, with this inscription: “Harold king of Dacia, (or Denmark,) England, and Norway, founder of this church.” Though many historians style him martyr, he is not named in the Roman Martyrology. See Vetus Historia Regum Dani, prefixed to Lindenbruch’s edition of Adam Bremensis.
BUTLER, A., The Lives of the Fathers, Martyrs and Other Principal Saints (New York 1903) IV, 325-339.
NOVEMBER I ALL SAINTS 
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