(A.D. 1622.)
[Roman Martyrology. Beatified, A.D. 1661, canonized, A.D. 1665.
Jan. 29th, is the day of the translation of his body to Annecy; he
died on Holy Innocents' Day. Authorities: authentic lives by his
nephew, Charles Augustus de Sales, also by F. Goulu, general of the
Feuillans, also by Henry de Maupas du Tour, Bishop of Puys, and
afterward of Evreux; also by Madame de Bussi-Rabutin, nun of the
Visitation; also anecdotes of him collected by his friend Camus,
Bishop of Belley; and finally, his own writings.[133]]
S. Francis of Sales was the eldest son of one of the principal nobles of
Savoy,--John, Lord of Sales, of Boisy, of Balleyson, and of Ville-Roget,
usually styled by the second of these titles. His mother Frances,
daughter of the Lord of La Thuille and of Vallieres, came of no less
noble stock. He had many brothers and sisters, of whom Louis, Lord of La
Thuille, was the father of Charles Augustus, the pious biographer of the
Saint. Francis was born, Aug. 21st, 1567.
He was sent in early childhood to the college of Annecy, where he was
trained in all the accomplishments which in those days were considered
essential to the rank of a young noble. He was five years at the college
of Annecy. At the age of eleven, he entreated permission of his father
to take the tonsure, having at that early age decided to adopt the
ecclesiastical life. M. de Boisy by no means desired this, for his
ambition was, that his eldest son should succeed him as the head of the
family, and distinguish himself in political life; but, with that sort
of management which men of great experience often prefer to violent
measures, he permitted him to do as he pleased. The old lord knew that
the tonsure did not bind his son finally to become an ecclesiastic; and
he depended on the changes to which a young man's mind is subject, to
dissipate this predilection.
In 1580, he was sent to pursue his studies in the University of Paris.
At Paris one of the most critical events of his life took place, a
terrible temptation to despair, which came on suddenly, and lasted for a
considerable time, but from which he was released in a wonderful manner.
He was about the age of seventeen, when the idea took possession of his
mind, that he was not in a state of grace, and that the face of God was
turned away from him. In his agony of mental distress he prayed, "Lord
if I may not see Thee hereafter, yet, oh grant, that I may never
blaspheme Thee!" He seems, if it were possible, to have suffered the
very anguish of hell, without the loss of the love of God. During the
six weeks this shadow lay upon him, he could hardly eat or sleep, he
wasted to a skeleton and his friends became greatly alarmed for his
health. At length, this great cross disappeared as suddenly as it came.
He one day entered the church of S. Etienne des Grés and knelt down
before an image of the Blessed Virgin. His eye was caught by a tablet on
the wall, on which was inscribed the famous prayer of S. Bernard, called
the _Memorare_. He repeated it with great emotion; and implored that,
through the intercession of Mary, it might please God to restore his
peace of mind. He also made a vow of perpetual chastity. The dark
thoughts which had brooded over his soul for many weeks now sped away,
and the sun of God's favour shone on it and warmed it once more. He came
out of the church in that sweet and profound calmness of mind which he
never afterwards lost. Considering what he was to become in after life,
the guide and comforter of such a multitude of souls, it was necessary,
in order to give him his tender overflowing sympathy, that he should
have sounded the most unusual depths of human agony.
After having spent five years at Paris, he was sent to finish his
education at the university of Padua, and there he remained till he was
twenty-four years of age, when, in 1591, he took his degree of doctor of
laws. Soon after his return home, his father sent him to Chambéry, to
take the office of senator in the court, and the young Francis took the
opportunity of conferring with the Bishop on the steps which it would be
most advisable for him to take, in order to ensure the consent of his
family to his embracing the ecclesiastical state, on which his heart had
long been set. The Bishop advised him to wait a little, before declaring
this intention; and, in the mean time he obtained a bull from Rome
authorizing the appointment of Francis to the deanery of the cathedral,
knowing that the attainment of this dignity would soften the feelings of
the family towards the purposed steps. The hopes of Francis, however,
seemed destined to be frustrated altogether by the extreme anxiety of
his father, both that he should accept the post offered him, and also
that he should marry a rich, amiable, and beautiful girl, the daughter
of one of their oldest friends. But Francis, to the surprise and despair
of his parents, refused both offers. Not long after, the suspense
becoming intolerable to him, and his vocation day by day stronger, he
resolved to reveal the cause to his father and mother, and taking with
him his cousin, Louis of Sales, he implored their consent to his
becoming a priest. M. de Boisy was stupified at his son's proposal,
which took him completely by surprise, and at first flatly refused his
consent. But after combating the resolution of Francis for a long time,
he yielded to the entreaties of his wife, who warned him that, should he
oppose so decided a vocation, it would be refusing him permission to
follow the voice of God. Armed with his father's consent and blessing,
Francis lost no time in hastening back to the Bishop of Geneva, from
whom he received minor orders on June 8th, 1593. The Bishop, who had the
highest opinion of his power, told him that he expected him to preach on
the following Thursday, which was the Feast of Corpus Christi. When the
morning came, Francis was seized with a sudden panic, and he cast
himself on his bed when the bells were ringing for service. But,
overcoming his bashfulness, he rose and went to the cathedral, where he
preached on the Real Presence in the Holy Eucharist, a sermon which
flowed from a heart which had long loved and adored that Presence. The
Bishop was much moved by this discourse, and three leading Calvinist
gentlemen who had come out of sheer curiosity to hear the new preacher
were convinced, and shortly after were received into the Church of God.
On the 18th December of the same year, Francis was promoted to priests'
orders, on which occasion his ecstatic devotion amazed the assistants.
At this time the Bishop received an appeal from the Duke of Savoy to
send missionaries into the Chablais. This is a portion of Savoy to the
south of the lake of Geneva, which had been forced into heresy by the
canton of Berne in Switzerland. The circumstances were as follows.
During the wars between the canton of Berne, supporting insurgent Geneva
against the Duke of Savoy, Charles III, who was thus engaged in war with
Francis I., King of France, the troops of Berne had invaded the province
of Chablais, and has wrested it from him. Not content with this
usurpation, the senate of Berne determined to undermine the Catholic
religion in this canton, and for this purpose divided the conquered
province into townships, of which the principal was fixed at Thonon, on
the borders of the lake. There were two large churches in the town,
those of S. Hippolytus, and S. Augustine. The authorities of Berne drove
out the Catholic clergy, and sent two violent reformers, Farel and
Lambertet to preach during Lent in 1536, and try to prevail on the
people to disbelieve the majority of those truths which the Church had
taught them. This they accordingly did, but when Lambertet began to
preach in the pulpit of the church of S. Hippolytus, a scene of
confusion ensued; he was absolutely refused a hearing, and one of the
citizens forced him to come down from the pulpit. The government of
Berne, to punish this tumult, sent six commissioners, who, on the 4th of
June, destroyed and defaced the sacred images, burnt the crosses,
forbade the exercise of the Catholic religion, and drove away all the
priests and religious; and by edict forbade the exercise of any Catholic
rite under a penalty of ten florins for each offence. In a few years, to
all intents and purposes, Catholicism was banished from the land.
Fifty-seven years had passed, and by means of rigid suppression of
Catholicism, the people had grown up in heresy or total unbelief. Now,
the Chablais was returned to the Duke of Savoy, and he wrote to the
Bishop of Geneva, entreating him to send some holy priest to Thonon to
inaugurate the work of leading the people out of the darkness of error
into the clear light of the Gospel of Christ. The Bishop sent a virtuous
priest, but the following year the castle of Thonon was betrayed and
destroyed by the Bernese troops, and the poor priest, fearing for his
life, and utterly despairing of effecting any conversions among the
Protestants, quitted his post, and returned to report his failure to the
Bishop at Annecy. But the Duke, no way disheartened by this state of
things, rebuilt and fortified the castle of Allinges not far from
Thonon, placed it in a garrison, and wrote again to the Bishop,
imploring for fresh workers in the neglected spiritual vineyard.
The Bishop summoned a meeting of the Cathedral Chapter, and made a
moving discourse before them on the subject of the Duke's letter, which
he first read to the assembly. A profound and chilling silence followed
the Bishop's appeal, but all turned to look at the young dean, whose
face seemed radiant with joy and emotion. He rose, and said simply and
earnestly, "My Lord, if you think me capable and worthy of this mission,
I undertake it with joy. At thy word will I let down my net!" The Bishop
gratefully accepted the generous offer, and prepared to do all for
Francis that lay in his power to ensure his success.
Far different, however, was the scene in the castle of Sales, when the
fatal news became known. M. de Boisy flew to Annecy, and overwhelmed
Francis with entreaties and reproaches. "Wist ye not that I must be
about my Father's business," was the reply of the Saint; then throwing
himself at his father's feet, he besought his consent and his blessing.
M. de Boisy replied, "As to consenting to this mad undertaking, I cannot
do it. It is of no use asking me;" and so saying, the poor old man left
the palace, and returned in tears to his castle, there to be soothed,
but not consoled, by the stronger faith of his wife.
[Illustration: François de Sales Euesque et Prince de Geneue]
On Sept. 9th, 1594, Francis, accompanied by his cousin, Louis, started
on his evangelical mission. It was necessary to pass by the castle of
Sales, when Frances had a fresh battle to fight with his family. "The
Château of Sales," writes a contemporary of our Saint, "was at that time
one of the most beautiful in Savoy, situated at the foot of mount
Ferreo, and surrounded with lovely gardens and shrubberies. A fountain
in the centre, and a lake on one side, added to its charms." Yet all
this Francis seems to have left without a thought or even a regret.
During their visit, the cousins determined to spend a couple of days in
retreat. The evening of the second day, Francis went to take leave of
his mother. Her conduct throughout had been admirable. This terrible
parting over, Francis went back to the chapel, where, as a child, he had
so often knelt with that tender mother before the altar and repeated,
evening after evening, his childish prayers, and there the noble
sacrifice of his whole future life to God was consummated and accepted.
His natural sorrow quenched in the Sacred Presence, Francis spent the
rest of the night in prayer, for the success of his mission; and the
next morning the cousins started at break of day, avoiding all further
leave-takings; and without either servants or provisions; his father
having expressly forbidden any assistance being given to them, hoping
thereby to disgust them of their enterprise. So, in poverty, S. Francis
left his ancestral home. Nine years afterwards, writing to the Pope, he
says, "On arriving in the Chablais, nothing but heart-breaking sights
met our eyes. Out of sixty-five parishes, excepting a few officers of
the Duke's garrisons, there were scarcely fifty Catholics. The churches
were desecrated or destroyed, and the cross everywhere broken down."
It would be impossible to give an idea of the fury of the Protestants of
Thonon when they heard of the mission of the two cousins. The news flew
to Geneva, where a public meeting was instantly held to declare that any
one was at liberty to take the lives of the two Papists who had dared to
undertake the mission; some of the Protestants present went so far as to
swear that they themselves would be their assassins. M. de Boisy was
alarmed when news reached him that the life of his son was menaced, and
he sent his old and faithful servant, George Roland, with positive
orders to bring Francis back; but the Saint was not to be moved; he,
however, persuaded his cousin, Louis, to go back for a short while, in
order to calm the anxiety of his family, whilst he himself remained to
prosecute his great work. Louis obeyed, but soon returned, and the two
earnest missioners laboured indefatigably together to advance the
Gospel. Francis went on foot among the villages, his stick, his
breviary, and his Bible being his sole companions; Louis being sent into
other parts of the province.
One night, on the 12th December, being on an expedition of this kind,
night came on suddenly; the earth was covered with snow, and he found
himself alone in a large wood infested with wolves. Afraid of being
devoured, he climbed up into a tree to pass the night; and then, lest he
should fall asleep and drop from the branch, he tied himself with his
leathern girdle to the stem. The next morning some peasants from a
neighbouring village found him there, nearly frozen with cold, and
unable to move. They carried him to their home, gently chafed his numbed
limbs, and brought him back to warmth and consciousness. Their charity
was not without its reward, for the Saint profited by the occasion to
speak to them on things concerning their eternal salvation. His gentle,
loving voice and manner effected even more than his words, and the zeal
he had shown in braving every kind of peril and suffering for the sake
of bringing back a few stray sheep to the fold, spoke more forcibly to
their hearts than a thousand sermons. These poor peasants were moved and
touched, and S. Francis numbered them among his first converts. M. de
Boisy sent George Roland back to Francis at the beginning of the year
1595, and to the records of this faithful servant, who from that hour
never left him, we are mainly indebted for the details of the most
interesting personal adventures which befell the Saint. But God Himself
interposed on several occasions to save His servant from dangers of
which even George Roland knew nothing. There was one bigoted Protestant,
who in the height of fanatical fury, swore that he would murder Francis
and carry his head to Geneva. This man was afterwards converted, and
declared on oath that he had thrice waylaid the Saint to accomplish
his purpose, and that each time his gun missed fire, and that he had
posted various other persons to kill him, but on each occasion God had
rendered His apostle invisible. The instigator of this diabolical design
was at last touched by the wonderful way in which providence shielded
Francis from harm; he abjured his heresy, and became afterwards one of
the Saint's most devoted followers.
At the beginning of the year 1595, Francis began a short, clear, and
simple exposition of Catholic doctrine, written on loose sheets for
distribution among Protestants, with an answer to the principal
objections raised against the Faith. Every one read and discussed these
fly-leaves--and the Protestants were beyond measure surprised at the way
in which all their favourite arguments were disproved, while some among
them were equally startled at finding how their prejudices regarding the
Catholic faith melted away before the sunshine of God's truth.
The winter, always severe in Savoy, was this year one of unusual rigour.
The roads were one sheet of ice, and Francis was obliged to put iron
clamps on his shoes, in order to prevent himself from slipping. As he
suffered terribly from broken chilblains, his heels became in such a
state that the blood stained the snow as he walked along, penetrating
through his stockings and gaiters. One night he arrived, with his
cousin, Louis, at a village where all the doors were closed against him.
In vain they knocked and entreated for admission; the inhabitants, who
had been prejudiced against them, refused to give them shelter; they
crept into the village oven, which was still warm, and there slept.
On the 17th July, he preached a wonderful sermon at Thonon on the
mediation of Jesus Christ. He showed his hearers that the Catholic
Church, so far from destroying this doctrine, as the Protestant
asserted, based her whole system upon it. The Calvinist ministers were
exasperated at the effect of the sermon, and held a public meeting, in
which it was resolved to charge him with sorcery and magic. They even
suborned a man to swear that he had seen Francis in communication with
devils at a witch's festival. As he was walking through a wood at dusk
immediately after this, two men rushed upon him with swords, uttering
horrid imprecations. Francis met them with such composure, that they
were overcome, and casting themselves at his feet, implored his pardon,
alleging as their excuse the orders they had received from the
Protestant clergy. The Saint forgave and blessed them, and pursued his
road, unmolested. The Calvinists, more furious than ever, hired a body
of assassins who came secretly, in the dead of the night to the house in
which he lodged. Francis had not yet gone to bed. He was watching and
praying in his room, when he heard the tramp of armed men in the street,
and their whispered consultation at the door. He quietly slipped into a
secret chamber, cleverly concealed by a panel in the wall which had been
provided in case of any such emergency, and the assassins hunted through
the house from garret to cellar without being able to find him. What
promoted the Catholic faith far more than his sermons, was his daily
life of never-failing charity. Madame de Boisy at last brought her
husband to see and feel the beauty and reality of the mission in which
their son was engaged. This was an untold relief to Francis; and from
that time, father and mother worked together in forwarding to the utmost
of their power the apostolic labours of their son. They gave shelter in
the castle of Sales to such of the converts as were compelled to resort
to flight in order to escape the fury of the heretics; and it is
impossible to exaggerate the tender zeal with which Madame de Boisy
looked after their temporal and spiritual wants. The Saint, in the
meanwhile, continued without intermission his pastoral work. As he could
not carry the Blessed Sacrament publicly through the streets of Thonon
to the sick, he used to take a Host in a little silver pyx in the shape
of a triangle, suspended by three little silver chains round his neck,
and thus bear our Lord on his breast. Then wrapping himself up in a
large cloak, he would walk along very gravely, looking on the ground,
without speaking to any one, or raising his hat. This was the sign he
had given to the faithful, who no sooner saw him passing in that manner
than they left their occupations and silently followed, though at a
little distance, so as not to excite hostile observation. It was an
intense joy to him to carry the Blessed Sacrament in that way: his flock
often remarked that his face on such occasions positively shone with the
fire of his love. As prudence still forbade the public sacrifice of the
Mass in Thonon, S. Francis used to celebrate it in the little village of
Marin, on the other side of the river Drance, in the old church of S.
Stephen.
On one occasion he went to preach in an old parish church near Allinges;
it was S. Stephen's Day, 1595, and he summoned the inhabitants as usual
by ringing a bell, but, as it was very bad weather, only seven people
came. Some one said to him that it was not worth while his preaching to
so small an audience. He replied, "One soul is as precious to me as a
thousand;" and he began a most eloquent discourse on the Invocation of
Saints, of which he explained the doctrine, and refuted the Protestant
objections with great clearness. Among his seven hearers was a
magistrate of Thonon who had lately joined the Church, but had been
beset by the ministers, who had succeeded in shaking his feeble faith.
After the sermon, he threw himself at the feet of S. Francis and
exclaimed, "You have saved my soul this day!" He then declared that he
had meditated abjuring his new Catholicism next Thursday; that having
heard the bell ring, and seen only half-a-dozen poor peasants obey the
summons, and come to the church, he had thought that, if S. Francis were
to preach, it would be a proof that he loved souls, but if he did not
preach, then he would be convinced that he sought applause. He went on
to say that the pains taken by S. Francis to explain to those half-dozen
peasants the doctrine of the Communion of Saints, had cleared away his
difficulties, and had convinced him of the grand and unutterable truth
of the Catholic Church, of which he would ever remain a member. Little
by little the work advanced; Francis was given three energetic
assistants; for some time the progress was very small, but the great
mass of the people were like an avalanche, slowly undermined, to fall in
a body at the foot of the Cross.
It would exceed our limits to detail the steps by which S. Francis
advanced the cause. Let us turn to the crowning of his labour. In 1597,
he celebrated the "Forty Hours" Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament at
Thonon. The churches of S. Augustine and S. Hippolytus had been given up
to the Catholics, and the Bishop arrived to consecrate them anew, and to
administer the Sacraments of Confirmation and Ordination for the first
time for sixty-three years. An enormous crowd assembled from all
quarters. After the Blessed Sacrament had been carried in procession
through the town, it was placed in an oratory erected for the purpose.
Very soon a crowd came up, consisting of three hundred people,
inhabitants of Bellevaux, all begging to be admitted into the Church.
The inhabitants of S. Cergue arrived next, bearing with them a cross
which had been concealed by them between two walls during the Calvinist
persecution, and which cross remains in the hamlet to this day. Some of
these poor people arrived barefoot bearing other emblems of the Passion
of our Lord, the spear, the nails, the crown of thorns. Then came the
people of Bonneville, with the nobility of the Chablais. One portion of
the procession arrived later than the rest, and that was from the
village of Ternier. They had been attacked by the fanatics of Geneva on
their way. During the "Forty Hours" of Adoration, prayers, meditations,
catechizings, and sermons succeeded each other without intermission. The
personal love which all the people felt for S. Francis, together with
his tender and touching exhortations, gave an additional impulse to the
devotion of the spectators. Whole villages took the opportunity of
returning to the faith of their fathers; and when the Exposition was
over, the Bishop and S. Francis had several hard days' work in receiving
such numberless abjurations and administering to them the rites of
conditional baptism and confirmation.
On September 30th, the Duke of Savoy visited Thonon, and the Chablais
ceased to be Protestant. Few heretics now remained, and the Duke ordered
them to cross the lake to the land of Vaud, as the Calvinists before had
expelled those who would not submit to the abolition of their religion.
The spiritual conquest achieved by Francis has been commonly reckoned to
have amounted to 72,000 souls.
In 1599, S. Francis was appointed coadjutor bishop of Geneva. The
continual disputes between France and Savoy were at length adjusted by a
treaty contracted at Lyons, by which the latter government yielded to
the former the province of Gex to the north of the lake of Geneva,
containing thirty-seven parishes, with about 30,000 inhabitants. S.
Francis visited Paris in 1602, and persuaded Henry IV. to re-establish
the exercise of the Catholic religion throughout Gex, wherever there
were a sufficient number of Catholics; only the king stipulated that
this should be done gradually, so as to avoid giving alarm to the
Protestants.
Francis now returned to Savoy, where the failing health of the aged
Bishop of Geneva made it necessary for him to be present. Some time
previous to his death, he had the consolation of celebrating the jubilee
at Thonon, by which the history of the conversion of the Chablais was
wound up. Hundreds of thousands of pilgrims of all ranks, in companies
preceded by cross and banner, poured from all the country round, making
the Alpine valleys resound with their pious chants, as they thanked God
for having brought them out of darkness into the glorious liberty of the
children of God. More than a hundred confessors were engaged continually
at the tribunal of penance; and altogether 62,000 communions were made
in the church of Thonon. On Dec. 8th, 1702, Francis was consecrated
bishop, and appointed to the see of Geneva, in the parish church of
Thonon.
The first business which Francis undertook after he was settled at
Annecy, the seat of the Bishops of Geneva, after their expulsion by the
Calvinists from the city of Geneva, was to establish a confraternity of
Christian Doctrine, and to make catechetical instruction his strongest
point. He heard the classes himself every Sunday. A more interesting
sight there could not be than to behold him, seated in front of the
altar, teaching the little ones, the girls on one side, and the boys on
the other. Twice in the year he made a festival for the children, and
went through the city with them processionally, singing Litanies. The
influence of his kindness over them was so great, that he never came
forth, without the children running out from every nook and corner of
the streets to ask his blessing or kiss his robe. When some friends
complained of the troops of them who followed him, he said gently,
"Suffer them to come, they are my own dear little people."
In 1603, when he was preaching the Lent course of sermons at Dijon, by
invitation of the magistrates, he made the acquaintance of Jane Frances
of Chantal, in combination with whom he afterwards founded the Order of
the Visitation. In 1605 and 1606, he made a general visitation of his
whole diocese, undergoing great fatigue, and often danger, in traversing
the Alpine districts, which formed the greatest part of it, and
everywhere preaching, catechizing, and hearing confessions. In 1618,
Francis was chosen by the Duke of Savoy to accompany an embassy to Paris
to negotiate the marriage of his son with the daughter of Henry IV., and
sister of Louis XIII. The negotiations of the embassy lasted for nearly
a year, during which Francis received incessant invitations to preach,
which he did almost daily; the people never tiring of listening to him.
The secret of his power lay in the exquisite charm of divine grace which
radiated from him. The churches were so crowded, that it more than once
happened that a ladder had to be brought for the preacher to enter by
the window, the doors being completely blocked up. People ran to gaze at
him, or to touch his robe as he passed in the streets. Cardinal de Retz,
Bishop of Paris, had set his heart on having him as his coadjutor, and
offered him a rich pension, the entire control of his diocese, and the
appointment of his brother, John Francis, to succeed him at Geneva, if
he would consent to come; but all was in vain.
By degrees the whole of the territory of Gex was catholicized, and
Francis had the felicity of continually organizing fresh parishes which
had submitted to the Gospel of Christ. Towards the close of 1622, he was
invited to attend the Duke of Savoy at Avignon, where he was to meet
Louis XIII. Francis had a presentiment that this journey would be his
last; but he did not think it right to decline the invitation of his
sovereign. Accordingly he made preparation, with the utmost calmness, as
if to return no more. He made his will, and gave directions concerning
his funeral, which he desired should be modest. On November 8th he bade
farewell to his friends and started next day. At Lyons a trifling
incident happened, which is worth relating, as an example of his sweet
and gentle demeanour. As he was going on board the boat, the ferryman
refused to receive him without his passport. When his attendants were
angry at the delay, the bishop remarked, "Let him alone, he knows the
duties of a boatman; we have forgotten that of a traveller." He had to
wait an hour for the passport in a bitterly cold wind. When at last they
got on board, he went and sat by the boatman, observing, "I wish to make
friends with this good man, and to talk to him a little of our Blessed
Lord."
At Avignon he held aloof from all the magnificence which the reunion of
two courts in that splendid age so lavishly displayed, and spent his
time in prayer, and in conference with religious persons. On his way
home he remained at Lyons, very ill. Nevertheless he said his midnight
Mass on Christmas morning and preached on the day with great fervour. He
then heard confessions, and said his third Mass shortly before noon,
after which he broke his fast. Then he gave the habit to two novices,
preached, received a number of visitors, and waited on the Queen Marie
de Medicis, who was to leave Lyons next day. Yet he was actually a dying
man when he thus crowded such astonishing exertions into one day. Next
day, the Feast of S. Stephen, he bade his last farewell to the nuns of
the Visitation, the order he had founded. On the following morning he
confessed, said Mass, and gave the Holy Communion to the nuns. The
Superioress noticed his altered looks. Outside the church he was
detained talking to some noblemen. It was cold and foggy, and he felt a
chill. By the time he got home he was excessively fatigued and ill; but
he sat down to write letters, and received several visitors. On their
departure his servant came in, and began to tell him about a sermon he
had heard, in which the preacher exhorted the Queen to love her
servants. Francis said, "And you, do you love me?" The good servant
could not speak for weeping, seeing how deadly ill he looked. The saint
continued: "And I, too, love you well; but let us love God above all,"
As he said these words he sank back in a fit. Next day the physicians
resorted to all the expedients used in the barbarous surgery of the age,
blisters on the head, the application of a hot iron to the nape of the
neck, and a red-hot ball pressed on the crown till it burnt to the bone.
He gradually sank after these operations, and his lips moving in prayer,
when unable to utter words, those in attendance knelt and recited the
"Recommendation for a departing soul," during which his gentle spirit
departed to its rest.
The body, after having been embalmed, was removed to Annecy, and reposes
in the Church of the Visitation.
[Illustration: Decoration]