From Dom Guéranger's The Liturgical Year.

The sister of the patriarch St. Benedict comes to us to-day, sweetly inviting us to follow her to heaven. Apollonia the martyr is succeeded by Scholastica, the fervent daughter of the cloister. Both of them are the brides of Jesus, both of them wear crowns, for both of them fought hard, and won the palm. Apollonia’s battle was with cruel persecutors, and in those hard times when one had to die to conquer; Scholastica’s combat was the lifelong struggle, whose only truce is the soldier’s dying breath. The martyr and the nun are sisters now in the Heart of Him they both so bravely loved.

God, in His infinite wisdom, gave to St. Benedict a faithful co-operatrix, a sister of such angelic gentleness of character, that she would be a sort of counterpoise to the brother, whose vocation, as the legislator of monastic life, needed a certain dignity of grave and stern resolve. We continually meet with these contrasts in the lives of the saints; and they show us that there is a link, of which flesh and blood know nothing; a link which binds two souls together, gives them power, harmonizes their differences of character, and renders each complete. Thus it is in heaven with the several hierarchies of the angels; a mutual love, which is founded on God Himself, unites them together, and makes them live in the eternal happiness of the tenderest brotherly affection.

Scholastica’s earthly pilgrimage was not a short one; and yet it has left us but the history of the dove, which told the brother, by its flight to heaven, that his sister had reached the eternal home before him. We have to thank St. Gregory the Great for even this much, which he tells us as a sequel to the holy dispute she had with Benedict, three days previous to her death. But how admirable is the portrait thus drawn in St. Gregory’s best style! We seem to understand the whole character of Scholastica:—an earnest simplicity, and a child-like eagerness for what was worth desiring; an affectionate and unshaken confidence in God; a winning persuasiveness, where there was opposition to God’s will, which, when it met such an opponent as Benedict, called on God to interpose, and gained its cause. The old poets tell us strange things about the swan, how sweetly it can sing when dying; how lovely must have been the last notes of the dove of the Benedictine cloister, as she was soaring from earth to heaven!

But how came Scholastica, the humble retiring nun, by that energy, which could make her resist the will of her brother, whom she revered as her master and guide? What was it told her that her prayer was not a rash one, and that what she asked was a higher good than Benedict’s unflinching fidelity to the rule he had written, and which it was his duty to teach by his own observance of it? Let us hear St. Gregory’s answer: 'It is not to be wondered at, that the sister, who wished to prolong her brother’s stay, should have prevailed over him; for, whereas St. John tells us that God is charity, it happened, by a most just judgment, that she that had the stronger love had the stronger power.’

Our season is appropriate for the beautiful lesson taught us by St. Scholastica, fraternal charity. Her example should excite us to the love of our neighbour, that love for which God bids us labour, now that we are intent on giving Him our undivided service, and our complete conversion. The Easter solemnity for which we are preparing, is to unite us all in the grand banquet, where we are all to feast on the one divine Victim of love. Let us have our nuptial garment ready: for He that invites us insists on our having union of heart when we dwell in His house.[1]

The Church has inserted in her Office of this feast the account given by St. Gregory of the last interview between St. Scholastica and St. Benedict. It is as follows:

Ex libro secundo Dialogorum sancti Gregorii Papæ.

Scholastica venerabilis patris Benedicti soror, omnipotenti Domino ab ipso infantiæ tempore dedicata, ad eum semel per annum venire consueverat. Ad quam vir Dei non longe extra januam in possessione monasterii descendebat. Quadam vero die venit ex more, atque ad eam cum discipulis venerabilis ejus descendit frater; qui totum diem in Dei laudibus, sacrisque colloquiis ducentes, incumbentibus jam noctis tenebris, simul accepemnt cibum. Cumque adhuc ad mensam sederent, et inter sacra colloquia tardior se hora protraheret, eadem sanctimonialis femina soror ejus eum rogavit dicens: Quæso te, ut ista nocte me non deseras, ut usquo mane de cœlestis vitæ gaudiis lo quamur. Cui ille respondit: Quid est quod loqueris, soror? manere extra cellam nullatenus possum. Tanta vero erat cœli serenitas, ut nulla in aëre nubes appareret. Sanctimonialis autem femina, cum verba fratris negantis audivisset, insertas digitis manus super mensam posuit, et caput in manibus omnipotentem Dominum rogatura declinavit. Cumque levaret de mensa caput, tanta coruscationis et tonitrui virtus, tantaque inundatio pluviæ erupit, ut neque venerabilis Benedictus, neque fratres qui cum eo aderant, extra loci limen, quo consederant, pedem movere potuerint.

Sanctimonialis quippe femina caput in manibus declinans, lacrymarum fluvium in mensam fuderat, per quas serenitatem aëris ad pluviam traxit. Nec paulo tardiua post orationem inundatio illa secuta est: sed tanta fuit convenientia orationis et inundationis, ut de mensa caput jam cum tonitruo levaret: quatenus unum idemque esset momentum, et levare caput, et pluviam deponere. Tunc vir Dei inter coruscos, et tonitruos, atque ingentis pluviæ inundationem, videns se ad monasterium non posse remeare, cœpit conqueri contristatus, dicens: Parcat tibi omnipotens Deus, soror, quid est quod fecisti? Cui illa respondit: Ecce rogavi te, et audire me noluisti; rogavi Deum meum, et audivit me: modo ergo, si potes, egredere, et me dimissa, ad monasterium recede. Ipse autem exire extra tectum non valens, qui remanere sponte noluit, in loco mansit invitus. Sicque factum est, ut totam noctem pervigilem ducerent, atque per sacra spiritalis vitæ colloquia, sese vicaria relatione satiarent.

Cumque die altero eadem venerabilis femina ad cellam propriam recessisset, vir Dei ad monasterium rediit. Cum ecce post triduum in cella consistens, elevatis in aëra oculis, vidit ejusdem sororis suæ animam de corpore egressam, in columbæ specie cœli secreta penetrare. Qui tantæ ejus gloriæ congaudens, omnipotenti Deo in hymnis et laudibus gratias reddidit, ejusque obitura fratribus denuntiavit. Quos etiam protinus misit, ut ejus corpus ad monasterium deferrent, atque in sepulchro, quod sibi ipsi paraverat, ponerent. Quo facto, contigit ut quorum mens una semper in Deo fuerat, eorum quoque corpora nec sepultura separaret.

From the second book of the Dialogues of St. Gregory, Pope.

Scholastica was the sister of the venerable father Benedict. She had been consecrated to almighty God from her very infancy, and was accustomed to visit her brother once a year. The man of God came down to meet her at a house belonging to the monastery, not far from the gate. It was the day for the usual visit, and her venerable brother came down to her accompanied by some of his brethren. The whole day was spent in the praises of God and holy conversation, and at night fall they took their repast together. While they were at table, and it grew late as they conferred with each other on sacred things, the holy nun thus spoke to her brother: ‘I beseech thee, stay the night with me, and let us talk till morning on the joys of heaven.’ He replied: ‘What is this thou sayest, sister? On no account may I remain out of the monastery.’ The evening was so fair, that not a cloud could be seen in the sky. When, therefore, the holy nun heard her brother’s refusal, she clasped her hands together, and resting them on the table, she hid her face in them, and made a prayer to the God of all power. As soon as she raised her head from the table, there came down so great a storm of thunder and lightning, and rain, that neither the venerable Benedict, nor the brethren who were with him, could set foot outside the place where they were sitting.

The holy virgin had shed a flood of tears as she leaned her head upon the table, and the cloudless sky poured down the wished-for rain. The prayer was said, the rain fell in torrents; there was no interval; but so closely on each other were prayer and rain, that the storm came as she raised her head. Then the man of God, seeing that it was impossible to reach his monastery amidst all this lightning, thunder, and rain, was sad, and said complainingly: 'God forgive thee, sister! What hast thou done?’ But she replied: 'I asked thee a favour, and thou wouldst not hear me; I asked it of my God, and he granted it. Go now, if thou canst, to the monastery, and leave me here!’ But it was not in his power to stir from the place; so that he who would not stay willingly, had to stay unwillingly, and spend the whole night with his sister, delighting each other with their questions and answers about the secrets of the spiritual life.

On the morrow, the holy woman returned to her monastery, and the man of God to his. When lo! three days after, he was in his cell; and raising his eyes, he saw the soul of his sister going up to heaven, in the shape of a dove. Full of joy at her being thus glorified, he thanked his God in hymns of praise, and told the brethren of her death. He straightway bade them go and bring her body to the monastery; which having done, he had it buried in the tomb he had prepared for himself. Thus it was that, as they had ever been one soul in God, their bodies were united in the same grave.

We select the following from the monastic Office for the feast of our saint:

Responsories and Antiphons

R. Alma Scholastica, sanctissimi patris Benedicti soror, * Ab ipso infantiætempore omnipotenti Domino dedicata, viam justitiæ non deseruit.
V. Laudate pueri Dominum, laudate nomen Domini. * Ab ipso infantiæ.

R. Exemplo vitæ venerabilis, et verbo sanctæ prædicationis informari cupiens, ad eum semel in anno venire consueverat: * Et eam vir Dei doctrinis cœlestibus instruebat.
V. Beatus qui audit verba ipsius, et servat ea quæ scripta sunt. * Et eam.

R. Sancta virgo Scholastica, quasi hortus irriguus,* Gratiarum cœlestium jugi rore perfundebatur.
V. Sicut fons aquarum, cujus non deficient aquæ. * Gratiarum.

R. Desideriuin cordis ejus tribuit ei Dominus: * A quo obtinuit quod a fratre obtinere non potuit.
V. Bonus est Dominus omnibus sperantibus in eum, animæ quærenti illum. * A quo obtinuit.

R. Moram faciente Sponso, ingemiscebat Scholastica dicens: * Quis dabit mihi pennas sicut columbæ, et volabo et requiescam?
V. En dilectus meus loquitur mihi: Surge, amica mea, et veni. * Quis dabit.

R. In columbæ specie Scholasticæ anima visa est, fraterna mens lætata est hymnis et immensis laudibus: * Benedictus sit talis exitus, multo magis talis introitus!
V. Totus cœlesti gaudio perfusus remansit pater Benedictus. * Benedictus.

R. Anima Scholasticæ ex arca corporis instar columbæ egressa, portans ramum olivæ, signum pacis et gratiæ. * In cœlos evolavit.
V. Quæ cum non inveniret ubi requiesceret pes ejus. * In cœlos evolavit.

Ant. Exsultet omnium turba fidelium pro gloria Virginis almæ Scholasticæ: lætentur præcipue catervæ virginum, celebrantes ejus solemnitatem, quæ fundens lacrymas, Dominum rogavit, et ab eo plus potuit, quia plus amavit.

Ant. Hodie sacra virgo Scholastica in specie columbae, ad æthera tota festiva perrexit: hodie cœlestis vitæ gaudiis cum fratre suo meretur perfrui in sempiternum.

R. The venerable Scholastica, the sister of the most holy father Benedict, * Being from her very infancy consecrated to almighty God, never left the path of righteousness.
V. O ye children, praise the Lord; praise ye the name of the Lord. * Being.

R. Anxious to be trained by the saintly life and the words of his holy teaching, she used to visit him once a year: * And the man of God instructed her in heavenly doctrine.
V. Blessed is he that heareth Benedict’s words, and keepeth those things which he hath written. * And.

R. The holy virgin Scholastica like a watered garden, * Was enriched with the ceaseless dew of heaven’s graces.
V. Like a fountain of water whose stream shall not fail. * Was enriched.

R. The Lord granted her the desire of her heart: * And from him she obtained what her brother refused.
V. The Lord is good to all them that trust in him, to the soul that seeketh him. * And.

R. The Bridegroom tarrying, Scholastica moaned, saying: * Who will give me the wings of a dove, and I will fly and take my rest?
V. Lo! my beloved speaketh unto me: Arise, my love, and come. * Who will.

R. Scholastica’s soul was seen in the form of a dove, and the brother’s glad heart sang hymns and praises beyond measure: * Blessed be such a departure, and still more blessed such an entrance!
V. Father Benedict was filled with heavenly joy. * Blessed.

R. Scholastica’s soul went forth, like a dove, from the ark of her body, bearing an olive branch, the sign of peace and grace. * She took her flight to heaven.
V. She found not whereon to rest her feet. * She took.

Ant. Let all the assembly of the faithful rejoice at the glory of the venerable virgin Scholastica; but above the rest, let the choirs of virgins be glad, as they celebrate the feast of her who besought her Lord with many tears, and had more power with him, because she had more love.

Ant. On this day, the holy virgin Scholastica took her flight, in the shape of a dove, all joyfully to heaven: on this day she is enjoying, with her brother, the eternal joys of the heavenly life she so well deserves.

The same Benedictine breviary gives us these two hymns for this feast:

Hymn

Te beata sponsa Christi,
Te columba virginum,
Siderum tollunt coloni
Laudibus, Scholastica:
Nostra te lætis salutant
Vocibus præcordia.

Sceptra mundi cum coronis
Docta quondam spernere,
Dogma fratris insecuta
Atque sanctæ regulæ,
Ex odore gratiarum,
Astra nosti quærere.

O potens virtus amoris!
O decus victoriæ!
Dum fluentis lacrymarum
Cogis imbres currere,
Ore Nursini parentis
Verba cœli suscipis.

Luce fulges expetita
In polorum vertice,
Clara flammis charitatis
Cum nitore gratiæ:
Juncta Sponso conquiescis
In decore gloriæ.

Nunc benigna pelle nubes
Cordibus fidelium,
Ut serena fronte splendens
Sol perennis luminis,
Sempiternæ claritatis
Impleat nos gaudiis.

Gloriam Patri canamus
Unicoque Filio;
Par tributum proferamus
Inclyto Paraclito,
Nutibus cujus creantur,
Et reguntur sæcula.

Amen.

O Scholastica, blessed bride of Christ!
O dove of the cloister!
the citizens of heaven proclaim thy merits,
and we, too, sing thy praises
with joyful hymns
and loving hearts.

Thou didst scorn
the honours and glory of the world;
thou didst follow the teaching of thy brother
and his holy rule;
and, rich in the fragrance of every grace,
thou caredst for heaven alone.

Oh I what power was in thy love,
and how glorious thy victory,
when thy tears drew rain from the skies,
and forced the patriarch of Nursia
to tell thee what he knew
of the land above!

And now thou shinest
in heaven’s longed for light;
thou art as a seraph in thy burning love,
beautiful in thy bright grace;
and united with thy divine Spouse,
thou art reposing in the splendour of glory.

Have pity on us the faithful of Christ,
and drive from us the miseries
which cloud our hearts;
that thus the Sun of light eternal
may sweetly shine upon us,
and fill us with the joys of his everlasting beams.

Let us sing a hymn of glory to the Father,
and to his only Son;
let us give an equal homage of our praise
to the blessed Paraclete:
yea, to God, the Creator and Ruler of all,
be glory without end.

Amen.

Hymn

Jam noctis umbræ concidunt,
Dies cupita nascitur,
Qua virgini Scholasticæ
Sponsus perennis jungitur.

Brumæ recedit tædium,
Fugantur imbres nubibus,
Vernantque campi siderum
Æternitatis fiori bus.

Amoris auctor evocat,
Dilecta pennas induit;
Ardens ad oris oscula
Columba velox evolat.

Quam pulchra gressum promoves,
O chara proles Principis!
Nursinus Abbas aspicit,
Grates rependit Nummi.

Amplexa Sponsi dextera,
Metit coronas debitas,
Immersa rivis gloriæ,
Deique pota gaudiis.

Te, Christe, flos convallium,
Patremque cum Paraclito,
Cunctos per orbis cardines
Adoret omne sæculum.

Amen.

The shades of night are passing away:
the longed-for day is come,
when the virgin Scholastica
is united to her God, her Spouse.

Winter’s tedious gloom is over;
the rainy clouds are gone;
and the Spring of the starry land
yields its eternal flowers.

The God of love bids his beloved come;
and she, taking the wings of a dove,
flies swiftly to the embrace
so ardently desired.

How beautiful is thy soaring,
dear daughter of the King!
Thy brother, the abbot, sees thee,
and fervently thanks his God.

Scholastica receives the embrace of her Spouse,
and the crown her works have won;
inebriated with the torrent of glory,
she drinks of the joys of her Lord.

May the world-wide creation
of every age adore thee,
O Jesus, sweet Flower of the vale,
together with the Father and the Holy Ghost.

Amen.

Dear bride of the Lamb! Innocent and simple dove! How rapid was thy flight to thy Jesus, when called home from thine exile! Thy brother’s eye followed thee for an instant, and then heaven received thee, with a joyous welcome from the choirs of the angels and saints. Thou art now at the very source of that love, which here filled thy soul, and gained thee everything thou askedst of thy divine Master. Drink of this fount of life to thy heart’s eternal content. Satiate the ambition taught thee by thy brother in his rule, when he says that we must ‘desire heaven with all the might of our spirit.’[2] Feed on that sovereign Beauty, who Himself feeds, as He tells us, among the lilies.[3]

But forget not this lower world, which was to thee, what it is to us, a place of trial for winning heavenly honours. During thy sojourn here, thou wast the dove in the clefts of the rock,[4] as the Canticle describes a soul like thine own; there was nothing on this earth which tempted thee to spread thy wings in its pursuit, there was nothing worthy of the love which God had put in thy heart. Timid before men, and simple as innocence ever is, thou knewest not that thou hadst wounded the Heart of the Spouse.[5] Thy prayers were made to Him with all the humility and confidence of a soul that had never been disloyal; and He granted thee thy petitions with the promptness of tender love: so that thy brother, the venerable saint, who was accustomed to see nature obedient to his command, was overcome by thee in that contest, wherein thy simplicity was more penetrating than his profound wisdom.

And who was it, O Scholastica, that gave thee this sublime knowledge, and made thee, on that day of thy last visit, wiser than the great patriarch, who was raised up in the Church to be the living rule of them that are called to perfection? It was the same God, who chose Benedict to be one of the pillars of the religious state, but who wished to show that a holy and pure and tender charity is dearer to Him than the most scrupulous fidelity to rules, which are only made for leading men to what thou hadst already attained. Benedict, himself such a lover of God, knew all this; the subject so dear to thy heart was renewed, and brother and sister were soon lost in the contemplation of that infinite Beauty, who had just given such a proof that He would have thee neglect all else. Thou wast ripe for heaven, O Scholastica! Creatures could teach thee no more love of thy Creator; He would take thee to Himself. A few short hours more, and the divine Spouse would speak to thee those words of the ineffable Canticle, which the holy Spirit seems to have dictated for a soul like thine: 'Arise, make haste, my love, my dove, my beautiful one, and come! Show me thy face; let thy voice sound in mine ears; for thy voice is sweet, and comely is thy face.’[6]

Thou hast left us, O Scholastica! but do not forget us. Our souls have not the same beauty in the eyes of our God as thine, and yet they are called to the same heaven. It may be that years are still needed to fit them for the celestial abode, where we shall see thy grand glory. Thy prayer drew down a torrent of rain upon the earth; let it now be offered for us, and obtain for us tears of repentance. Thou couldst endure no conversation which had not eternity for its subject; give us a disgust for useless and dangerous talk, and a relish for hearing of God and of heaven. Thy heart had mastered the secret of fraternal charity, yea of that affectionate charity which is so well-pleasing to our Lord; soften our hearts to the love of our neighbour, banish from them all coldness and indifference, and make us love one another as God would have us love.

Dear dove of holy solitude! remember the tree, whose branches gave thee shelter here on earth. The Benedictine cloister venerates thee, not only as the sister, but also as the daughter of its sainted patriarch. Cast thine eye upon the remnants of that tree, which was once so vigorous in its beauty and its fruits, and under whose shadow the nations of the west found shelter for so many long ages. Alas! the hack and hew of impious persecutions have struck its root and branches. Every land of Europe, as well as our own, sits weeping over the ruins. And yet, root and branches, both must needs revive; for we know that it is the will of thy divine Spouse, O Scholastica, that the destinies of this venerable tree keep pace with those of the Church herself. Pray that its primitive vigour be soon restored; protect, with thy maternal care, the tender buds it is now giving forth; cover them from the storm; bless them; make them worthy of the confidence wherewith the Church deigns to honour them!

[1] Ps. lxvii. 7.
[2] Ch. iv., Instrument 46.
[3] Cant. ii. 16.
[4] Ibid., 14.
[5] Ibid., iv. 9.
[6] Cant. ii. 10, 14.

From Dom Guéranger's The Liturgical Year.

We were celebrating, not many days ago, the memory of Peter Nolasco, who was inspired, by the holy Mother of God, to found an Order for the ransoming of Christian captives from the infidels: to-day, we have to honour the generous saint, to whom this sublime work was first revealed. He established, under the name of the most holy Trinity, a body of religious men, who bound themselves by vow to devote their energies, their privations, their liberty, nay, their very life, to the service of the poor slaves who were groaning under the Saracen yoke. The Order of the Trinitarians, and the Order of Mercy, though distinct, have the same end in view, and the result of their labours, during the six hundred years of their existence, has been the restoration to liberty and preservation from apostasy of upwards of a million slaves. John of Matha, assisted by his faithful co-operator, Felix of Valois (whose feast we shall keep at the close of the year), established the centre of his grand work at Meaux, in France. We are preparing for Lent, when one of our great duties will have to be that of charity towards our suffering brethren: what finer model could we have than John of Matha, and his whole Order, which was called into existence for no other object than that of delivering from the horrors of slavery brethren who were utter strangers to their deliverers, but were in suffering and in bondage. Can we imagine any almsgiving, let it be ever so generous, which can bear comparison with this devotedness of men, who bind themselves by their rule, not only to traverse every Christian land begging alms for the ransom of slaves, but to change places with the poor captives, if their liberty cannot be otherwise obtained? Is it not, as far as human weakness permits, following to the very letter the example of the Son of God Himself, who came down from heaven that He might be our ransom and our Redeemer? We repeat it: with such models as these before us, we shall feel ourselves urged to follow the injunction we are shortly to receive from the Church, of exercising works of mercy towards our fellow-creatures, as being one of the essential elements of our lenten penance.

But it is time we should listen to the account given us by the liturgy of the virtues of this apostolic man, who has endeared himself, both to the Church and to mankind, by his heroism of charity.

Joannes de Matha, Ordinis sanctissimæ Trinitatis redemptionis captivorum institutor, Falcone in Provincia natus est, parentibus pietate et nobilitate conspicuis. Studiorum causa Aquas Sextias, mox Parisios profectus, confectoque theologiæ curriculo, magisterii lauream adeptus, doctrinæ, et virtutum splendore enituit: quibus motus Parisiensia Antistes, ad sacrum presbyteratus ordinem, præ humilitate reluctantem promovit, eo consilio, ut in ea civitate commorans, sapientia et moribus studiosæ juventuti præluceret. Cum autem in sacello ejusdem episcopi, ipso cum aliis adstante, primum Deo sacrum offerret, cœlesti favore meruit recreari. Nam angelus candida et fulgenti veste indutus, cui in pectore crux rubei et cærulei coloris assuta erat, brachiis cancellatis, et super duos captivos ad latera pósitos, Christianum unum, alterum Maurum, extensis apparuit. Qua visione in exstasim raptus, intellexit protinus vir Dei se ad redimendos ab infidelibus captivos destinari.

Quo vero maturius in re tanti momenti procederet, in solitudinem secessit; ibique divino nutu factum est, ut Felicem Valesium in ipsa eremo jam multis annis degentem repererit. Cum quo inita societate, se per triennium in oratione et contemplatione, omniumque virtutum studio exercuit. Contigit autem, ut dum secum de rebus divinis prope fontem colloquerentur, cervus ad eos accesserit, crucem inter cornua gerens, rubei et cærulei coloris. Cumque Felix ob rei novitatem miraretur, narravit ei Joannes visionem in prima Missa habitam: et exinde ferventius orationi incumbentes, ter in somnis admoniti, Romam proficisei decreverunt, ut a summo Pontifice novi Ordinis pro redimendis captivis institutionem impetrarent. Electus fuerat eo tempore Innocentius tertius; qui, illis benigne acceptis, dum secum de re proposita deliberaret, in festo sanctæ Agnetis secundo, Laterani intra Missarum solemnia, ad sacræ Hostiæ elevationem, angelus ei candida veste, cruce bicolori, specie redimentis captivos apparuit. Quo viso, Pontifex institutum approbavit, et novum Ordinem sanctissimæ Trinitatis redemptionis captivorum vocari jussit, ejusque professoribus albas vestes, cum cruce rubei et cærulei coloris præbuit.

Sic stabilito Ordine, sancii fundatores in Galliam redierunt; primoque cœnobio Cervi Frigidi in diœcesi Meldensi constructo, ad ejus regimen Felix remansit, et Joannes Romam cum aliquot sociis reversus est ubi Innocentius domum, ecclesiam, et hospitale sancti Thomæ de Formis in monte Cœlio eis donavit, cum multis redditibus, et possessionibus. Datis quoque litteris ad Miramolinnm regem Marochii, opus redemptionis felici auspicio inchoatum fuit. Tum ad Hispanias, sub jugo Saracenorum, magna ex parte oppressas, Joannes profectus est, regumque, principum, atque aliorum fidelium animos ad captivorum et pauperum commiserationem commovit. Monasteria ædificavit, hospitalia erexit, magnoque lucro animarum, plures captivos redemit. Romam tandem reversus, sanctisque operibus incumbens, assiduis laboribus attritus, et morbo confectus, ardentissimo Dei et proximi amore exæstuans, ad extremum devenit. Quare fratribus convocatis, eisque ad opus redemptionis cœlitus præmonstratum efficaciter cohortatis, obdormivit in Domino, sextodecimo kalendas Januarii, anno salutis millesimo ducentesimo decimo tertio, ejusque corpus in ipsa ecclesia Sancti Thomæ de Formis condigno honore tumulatimi fuit.

John of Matha, the institutor of the Order of the most Holy Trinity for the ransom of captives, was born at Faucon, in Provence, of parents conspicuous for their nobility and virtue. He went through his studies first at Aix, and afterwards at Paris, where, after having completed his theological course, he received the degree of doctor. His eminent learning and virtues induced the bishop of Paris to promote him, in spite of his humble resistance, to the holy order of priesthood, that, during his sojourn in that city, he might be a bright example to young students by his talents and piety. While celebrating his first Mass in the bishop’s chapel, in the presence of the prelate and several assistants, he was honoured by a signal favour from heaven. There appeared to him an angel clad in a white and brilliant robe; he had on his breast a red and blue cross, and his arms were stretched out, crossed one above the other, over two captives, one a Christian, the other a Moor. Falling into an ecstasy at this sight, the man of God at once understood that he was called to ransom captives from the infidels.

But, that he might the more prudently carry out so important an undertaking, he withdrew into a solitude. There by divine appointment, he met with Felix of Valois, who had been living many years in that same desert. They agreed to live together, and for three years did John devote himself to prayer and contemplation, and the practice of every virtue. It happened, that as they were one day seated near a fountain, conferring with each other on holy things, a stag came towards them, bearing a red and blue cross between his antlers. John, perceiving that Felix was surprised by so strange an occurrence, told him of the vision he had had in his first Mass. They gave themselves more fervently than ever to prayer, and having been thrice admonished in sleep, they resolved to set out for Rome, there to obtain permission from the sovereign Pontiff to found an Order for the ransom of captives. Innocent III., who had shortly before been elected Pope, received them kindly, and while deliberating upon what they proposed, it happened that as he was celebrating Mass in the Lateran church, on the second feast of St. Agnes, there appeared to him, during the elevation of the sacred Host, an angel robed in white, bearing a two-coloured cross, and in the attitude of one that was rescuing captives. Whereupon, the Pontiff gave his approbation to the new institute, and would have it called the Order of the most Holy Trinity for the ransom of captives, bidding its members wear a white habit, with a red and blue cross.

The Order being thus established, its holy founders returned to France, and erected their first monastery at Cerfroid, in the diocese of Meaux. Felix was left to govern it, and John returned, accompanied by a few of his brethren, to Rome. Innocent III. gave them the house, church, and hospital of St. Thomas de Formis, together with various revenues and possessions. He also gave them letters to Miramolin, king of Morocco, and thus was prosperously begun the work of ransom. John afterwards went into Spain, a great portion of which country was then under the Saracen yoke. He stirred up kings, princes, and others of the faithful, to compassion for the captives and the poor. He built monasteries, founded hospitals, and saved the souls of many captives by purchasing their freedom. Having, at length, returned to Rome, he spent his days in doing good. Worn out by incessant labour and sickness, and burning with a most ardent love of God and his neighbour, it was evident that his death was at hand. Wherefore, calling his brethren round him, he eloquently besought them to labour in the work of ransom, which heaven had entrusted to them, and then slept in the Lord, on the sixteenth of the Calends of January (December 17), in the year of grace 1213. His body was buried with the honour that was due to him in the same church of St. Thomas de Formis.

And now, generous-hearted saint, enjoy the fruits of thy devoted charity. Our blessed Redeemer recognizes thee as one of His most faithful imitators, and the whole court of heaven is witness of the recompense wherewith He loves to honour thy likeness to Himself. We must imitate thee; we must walk in thy footsteps; for we too hope to reach the same eternal resting-place. Fraternal charity will lead us to heaven, for the works it inspires us to do have the power of freeing the soul from sin, as our Lord assures us.[1] Thy charity was formed on the model of that which is in the heart of God, who loves our soul yet disdains not to provide for the wants of our body. Seeing so many souls in danger of apostasy, thou didst run to their aid, and men were taught to love a religion which can produce heroes of charity like thee. Thy heart bled at hearing of the bodily sufferings of these captives, and thy hand broke the chains of their galling slavery. Teach us the secret of ardent charity. Is it possible that we can see a soul in danger of being lost, and remain indifferent? Have we forgotten the divine promise, told us by the apostle: ‘He that causeth a sinner to be converted from the error of his way, shall save his soul from death, and shall cover a multitude of his own sins’?[2] Obtain for us, also, a tender compassion for such as are in bodily suffering and poverty, that so we may be generous in comforting them under these trials, which are but too often an occasion of their blaspheming Providence. Dear friend and liberator of slaves! pray, during this holy season, for those who groan under the captivity of sin and Satan; for those, especially, who, taken with the frenzy of earthly pleasures, feel not the weight of their chains, but sleep on peacefully through their slavery. Ransom them by thy prayers, convert them to the Lord their God, lead them back to the land of freedom. Pray for France which was thy country, and save her from infidelity. Protect the venerable remnants of thy Order, that so it may labour for the present wants of the Christian world, since the object for which thou didst institute it has ceased to require its devotedness.

[1] Ecclus. iii. 33.
[2] St. James v. 20.

From Dom Guéranger's The Liturgical Year.

The holy virgin who this day claims the homage of our devotion and praise, is offered to us by the Church of Alexandria. Apollonia is a martyr of Christ; her name is celebrated and honoured throughout the whole world; and she comes to us on this ninth day of February, to add her own example to that which we have so recently had from her sister saints, Agatha and Dorothy; like them, she bids us fight courageously for heaven. To her this present life was a thing of little value, and no sooner did she receive God’s inspiration to sacrifice it, than she did what her would-be executioners intended doing: she threw herself into the flames prepared for her. It is no unusual thing, nowadays, for men that are wearied of the trials, or afraid of the humiliations, of this world, to take away their own lives, and prefer suicide to the courageous performance of duty: but Apollonia’s motive for hastening her death by a moment’s anticipation, was to testify her horror of the apostasy that was proposed to her. This is not the only instance we meet with, during times of persecution, of the holy Spirit’s inspiring this lavish sacrifice to saintly virgins, who trembled for their faith or their virtue. It is true, such examples are rare; but they teach us, among other things, that our lives belong to God alone, and that we should be in readiness of mind to give them to Him, when and as He pleases to demand them of us.

There is one very striking circumstance in the martyrdom of St. Apollonia. Her executioners, to punish the boldness wherewith she confessed our Lord Jesus Christ, beat out her teeth. This has suggested to the faithful, when suffering the cruel pain of toothache, to have recourse to St. Apollonia; and their confidence is often rewarded, for God would have us seek the protection of His saints, not only in our spiritual, but even in our bodily sufferings and necessities.

The liturgy thus speaks the praises of our saint.

Apollonia, virgo Alexandrina, sub Decio imperatore, cum ingravescente jam setate ad idola sisteretur, ut eis venerationem adhiberet, illis contemptis, Jesum Christum verum Deum colendum esse prædicabat. Quamobrem omnes ei contusi sunt et evulsi dentes: ac, nisi Christum detestata deos coleret, accenso rogo combusturos vivam minati sunt impii carnifices. Quibus illa, se quamvis mortem pro Jesu Christi fide subituram respondit. Itaquecomprehensa ut combureretur, cum paulisper quasi deliberans quid agendum esset, stetisset, ex illorum manibus elapsa, alacris in ignem sibi paratura, majori Spiritus sancti flamma intus accensa, se injecit. Unde brevi con9umpto corpore, purissimus spiritus in cœlum ad sempiternam martyrii coronam evolavit.

Apollonia was a virgin of Alexandria. In the persecution under the Emperor Decius, when she was far advanced in years, she was brought up to trial, and ordered to pay adoration to idols. She turned from them with contempt, and declared that worship ought to be given to Jesus Christ, the true God. Whereupon, the impious executioners broke and pulled out her teeth; then lighting a pile of wood, they threatened to burn her alive, unless she would hate Christ, and adore their gods. She replied, that she was ready to suffer every kind of death for the faith of Jesus Christ. Upon this, they seized her, intending to do as they said. She stood for a moment, as though hesitating what she should do; then, snatching herself from their hold, she suddenly threw herself into the fire, for there was within her the intenser flame of the Holy Ghost. Her body was soon consumed, and her most pure soul took its flight, and was graced with the everlasting crown of martyrdom.

What energy was thine, Apollonia! Thy persecutors threaten thee with fire; but far from fearing it, thou art impatient for it, as though it were a throne, and thou ambitious to be queen. Thy dread of sin took away the fear of death, nor didst thou wait for man to be thy executioner. This thy courage surprises our cowardice; and yet, the burning pile into which thou didst throw thyself when asked to apostatize, and which was a momentary pain leading thy soul to eternal bliss, was nothing when we compare it with that everlasting fire, to which the sinner condemns himself almost every day of his life. He heeds not the flames of hell, and deems it no madness to purchase them at the price of some vile passing pleasure. And with all this, worldlings can be scandalized at the saints, and call them exaggerated, extravagant, imprudent; because they believed that there is but one thing necessary! Awaken in our hearts, Apollonia, the fear of sin; for sin gnaws eternally the souls of them who die with its guilt upon them. If the fire, which had a charm for thee, seems to us the most frightful of tortures, let us turn our fear of suffering and death into a preservative against sin, which plunges men into that abyss, whence the smoke of their torments shall ascend for ever and ever,[1]as St. John tells us in his Revelation. Have pity on us, most brave and prudent martyr. Pray for sinners. Open their eyes to see the evils that threaten them. Procure for us the fear of God, that so we may merit His mercies, and may begin in good earnest to love Him.

[1] Apoc. xiv. 11.

From Dom Guéranger's The Liturgical Year.

The calendar’s list of martyrs is interrupted for two days; the first of these is the feast of Romuald, the hero of penance, the saint of the forests of Camaldoli. He is a son of the great patriarch St. Benedict, and, like him, is the father of many children. The Benedictine family has a direct line from the commencement, even to this present time; but, from the trunk of this venerable tree there have issued four vigorous branches, to each of which the Holy Spirit has imparted the life and fruitfulness of the parent stem. These collateral branches of the Benedictine Order are: Camaldoli, founded by Romuald; Cluny, by Odo; Vallombrosa, by John Gualbert; and Citeaux, by Robert of Molesmes.

The saint of this seventh day of February is Romuald. The martyrs whom we meet with on our way to Lent, give us an important lesson by the contempt they had for this short life. But the teaching offered us by such holy penitents as the great abbot of Camaldoli is even more practical than that of the martyrs. ‘They that are Christ’s,’ says the apostle, 'have crucified their flesh, with its vices and concupiscences’;[1] and in these words he tells us what is the distinguishing character of every true Christian. We repeat it: what a powerful encouragement we have in these models of mortification, who have sanctified the deserts by their lives of heroic penance! How they make us ashamed of our own cowardice, which can scarcely bring itself to do the little that must be done to satisfy God’s justice and merit His grace! Let us take the lesson to heart, cheerfully offer our offended Lord the tribute of our repentance, and purify our souls by works of mortification.

The Office for St. Romuald’s feast gives us the following sketch of his life.

Romualdus Ravennæ, Sergio patre nobili genere natus, adolescens in propinquum monasterium Classense, pœnitentiæ causa secessit: ubi religiosi hominis sermone, ad pietatis studium vehementius incensus, viso etiam semel et iterum per noctem in ecclesia beato Apollinari, quod Dei servus illi futurum promiserat, monachus efficitur. Mox ad Marinum, vitæ sanctitate ac severiore disciplina in finibus Venetorum eo tempore celebrem, se contulit, ut ad arctam et sublimem perfectionis viam eo magistro ac duce uteretur.

Multis Satanæ insidiis, et hominum invidia oppugnatus, tanto bumilior se assidue jejuniis et orationibus exercebat, et rerum cœlestium meditatione, vim lacrymarum profundens fruebatur: vultu tamen adeo læto semper erat, ut intuentes exhilararet. Magno apud principes et reges in honore fuit, multique ejus consilio, mundi illecebris abjectis, solitudinem petierunt. Martyrii quoque cupiditate flagravit, cujus causa dum in Pannoniam proficiscitur, morbo quo afflictabatur cum progrederetur, levabatur cum recederet, reverti cogitar.

In vita et post mortem miraculis clarus, spiritu etiam prophetiæ non caruit. Scalam a terra cœlum pertingentem in similitudinem Jacob patriarchæ, per quam homines in veste candida ascendebant et descendebant, per visum conspexit, eoque Camaldulenses monachos, quorum instituti auctor fuit, designari mirabiliter agnovit. Denique cum annos centum et viginti ageret, et centum ipsos in summa vitæ asperitate Deo servisset, ad eum migravit anno salutis millesimo vigesimo septimo. Ejus corpus quinquennio postquam sepultum fuerat, integrum repertum, Fabriani in ecclesia sui ordinis honorifice conditum est.

Romuald was the son of a nobleman, named Sergius. He was born at Ravenna, and while yet a boy, withdrew to the monastery of Classis, there to lead a life of penance. The conversation of one of the religious increased in his soul his already ardent love of piety; and after being twice favoured with a vision of St. Apollinaris, who appeared to him, during the night, in the church which was dedicated to him, he entered the monastic state, agreeably to the promise made him by the holy martyr. A few years later on, he betook himself to a hermit named Marinus, who lived in the neighbourhood of Venice, and was famed for his holy and austere life, that, under such a master and guide, he might follow the narrow path of high perfection.

Many were the snares laid for him by Satan, and envious men molested him with their persecutions; but these things only excited him to be more humble, and assiduous in fasting and prayer. In the heavenly contemplation wherewith he was favoured, he shed abundant tears. Yet such was the joy which ever beamed in his face, that it made all who looked at him cheerful. Princes and kings held him in great veneration, and his advice induced many to leave the world and its allurements, and live in holy solitude. An ardent desire for martyrdom induced him to set out for Pannonia; but a malady, which tormented him as often as he went forward, and left him when he turned back, obliged him to abandon his design.

He wrought many miracles during his life, as also after his death, and was endowed with the gift of prophecy. Like the patriarch Jacob, he saw a ladder that reached from earth to heaven, on which men, clad in white robes, ascended and descended. He interpreted this miraculous vision as signifying the Camaldolese monks, whose founder he was. At length, having reached the age of a hundred and twenty, after having served his God by a life of most austere penance for a hundred years, he went to his reward, in the year of our Lord one thousand and twenty-seven. His body was found incorrupt after it had been five years in the grave; and was then buried, with due honour, in the church of his Order at Fabriano.

Faithful servant and friend of God! how different was thy life from ours! We love the world and its distractions. We think we do wonders if we give, each day, a passing thought to our Creator, and make Him, at long intervals, the sole end of some one of our occupations. Yet we know how each hour is bringing us nearer to that moment, when we must stand before the divine tribunal, with our good and our evil works, to receive the irrevocable sentence we shall have merited. Thou, Romuald, didst not thus waste life away. It seemed to thee as though there were but one thought and one interest worth living for: how best to serve thy God. Lest anything should distract thee from this infinitely dear object, thou didst flee into the desert. There, under the rule of the great patriarch, St. Benedict, thou wagedst war against the flesh and the devil; thy tears washed away thy sins, though so light if compared with what we have committed; thy soul, invigorated by penance, was inflamed with the love of Jesus, for whose sake thou wouldst fain have shed thy blood. We love to recount these thy merits, for they belong to us in virtue of that communion which our Lord has so mercifully established between saints and sinners. Assist us, therefore, during the penitential season, which is soon to be upon us. The justice of God will not despise our feeble efforts, for He will see them beautified by the union He allows them to have with such glorious works as thine. When thou wast living in the Eden of Camaldoli, thy amiable and sweet charity for men was such, that all who came near thee were filled with joy and consolation: what may we not expect from thee, now that thou art face to face with the God of love? Remember, too, the Order thou hast founded; protect it, give it increase, and make it ever, to those who become its children, a ladder to lead them up to heaven.

[1] Gal v. 24.