An ecclesiastic in Blessed Francis' diocese, had, because of his vicious
and scandalous life, been sent to prison. After a few days' sojourn there
he testified the deepest repentance, and with tears and promises of
amendment entreated the officers of the prison to allow him to be taken to
the Holy Prelate, who had already pardoned many of his offences, that he
might at his feet plead again for forgiveness.
This request was at first refused, as the officers considered that his
scandalous life deserved punishment, if only as an example to others,
and they knew that with Blessed Francis, to see a sinner was to pity and
forgive him.
At last, however, they yielded to the priest's passionate entreaties, and
he was taken before his Bishop. Throwing himself on his knees before the
Holy Man, he implored mercy, declaring that he would lead a new life,
and set an example of all that was edifying, whereas before he had given
nothing but scandal. Blessed Francis on his part knelt down before the
culprit, and with many tears, addressed these remarkable words to him; "I,
too," he said, "ask you to have pity upon me, and upon all of us who are
priests in this diocese, upon the Church, and upon the Catholic, Apostolic,
and Roman religion, the honour of which you are ruining by your scandalous
life. For that life gives occasion to the adversaries of our Faith, who
are always on the watch like dragons to detect our slightest failings, to
condemn us. For a priest to sin, I tell you, is to give occasion to devils
to mock at the lives of our clergy, and to blaspheme our Holy Faith, I
ask you also to have pity on yourself, and on your own soul which you are
losing for all eternity, and to seek anew God's favour, I exhort you in the
name of Jesus Christ to return to God by a true repentance, I conjure you
to do this by all that is most holy, and sacred in Heaven, or on earth, by
the Blood of Jesus Christ which you profane, by the loving-kindness of the
Saviour, whom you crucify afresh, by the Spirit of Grace against whom you
are rebelling." These remonstrances, or rather the Spirit of God speaking
by the mouth of this zealous Pastor, had such effect that the guilty man
was by this change of the Right Hand of the Most High converted into a
perfectly different being, and became as notable an example of virtue as
he had been an occasion of scandal.
Again--There was in his diocese a certain ecclesiastic who for very grave
faults, and for the scandal occasioned by them, was not only imprisoned and
treated while in prison with the greatest severity, but moreover, after
regaining his liberty, remained for six months suspended from all
ecclesiastical functions.
Our Blessed Father most unwillingly yielded to the entreaties of the
officers of justice not in any way to interfere in the matter, but to let
the law take its course, and to leave the offender in their hands to be
treated with exceptional rigour.
So little, however, did this mode of dealing with the criminal answer,
that, though while in prison he had been tractable, humble, lavish of
promises of amendment, and apparently penitent, when once he had shaken off
his fetters he relapsed into all his old evil habits, and passed from bad
to worse. The authorities were in fine constrained to deprive him of his
benefice, and to banish him from the diocese.
A few years later a very similar case occurred in which the officers showed
the same unwillingness to permit the intervention of Blessed Francis, and
this from no want of respect or love for him, but, as before, from a fear
lest his gentleness and charity should hinder the course of justice.
In this case, however, the holy Bishop was firm. "If," he said, "you forbid
him to appear before me, you will not forbid me to appear before him. You
do not wish him to come out of prison, suffer me then to go to prison with
him, and to be the companion of his captivity. We must comfort this poor
brother, who entreats us for help. I promise you that he shall not leave
the prison except with your leave."
Accompanied by the officers of justice he then proceeded to the prison.
No sooner did he see the poor man kneeling humbly before his Bishop, and
accusing himself of his sins, than the holy Prelate embraced him tenderly,
and turning to his gaolers said: "Is it possible that you do not see that
God has already pardoned this man? Is there any condemnation for one who is
in Christ Jesus? If God justifies him, who shall condemn him? Certainly not
I."
Then, turning to the culprit, he said: "Go in peace, my brother, and sin no
more, I know that you are truly penitent."
The officials protested that the man was a hypocrite, and like that other
suspended priest would himself soon show that they were right. "It is,
however, possible," replied the Saint, "that had you treated that other
priest with lenity, he, too, would have truly repented; beware, then, lest
his soul should one day be required at your hands. For my part, if you will
accept me as this man's bail, I am ready to pledge my word for his good
behaviour. I am certain that he is sincerely repentant, and even if he is
deceiving me, he will do more injury to himself than to me, or others."
The guilty man, bursting into tears, declared himself willing to undergo
any penance that might be imposed upon him, and even to give up his
benefice of his own accord, if the Bishop should judge this to be the
proper course.
"I should be much grieved if you were to take that step," replied Blessed
Francis, "the more so as I hope that, just as the steeple in falling
crushed the church, so now being set up again it will make it more
beautiful than before."
The officials gave way, the prison doors were thrown open, and after a
month's suspension, _a divinis_, the penitent resumed all the duties of his
sacred office. Thenceforth he lived so holy and exemplary a life as fully
to verify the predictions of his holy Bishop, who, when these two memorable
instances, one of perversion and the other of conversion, were once
afterwards discussed before him, said: "It is better by gentleness to make
penitents than by severity to make hypocrites."
I will now relate some other instances of Blessed Francis' extraordinary
gentleness and of its softening effect upon others.
He had made himself surety for a considerable sum of money for one of his
friends, who, at the time when payment was due, happened to be in Piedmont
levying troops for the service of His Highness the Duke of Savoy.
The creditor becoming impatient for the discharge of the debt, applied to
the good Bishop, and insisted upon his making the money good, paying no
attention whatever either to his gentle remonstrances, or to his assurances
that the debtor, though unable at present to leave his troops, would do so
as soon as was consistent with his duty to his Prince and his country, and
that meantime his regular payment of the interest, and the knowledge that
he was worth a hundred times more than the sum owing, ought surely to
satisfy the creditor.
Blessed Francis remained perfectly calm and unmoved amid the storm of
invectives and reproaches that followed this remonstrance, and which were
accompanied by furious demands reiterated again and again, that he himself
as surety should repay the money.
At last, speaking with incredible gentleness, the Saint said: "Son, I am
your Pastor. Can you as one of my flock, have the heart to take the bread
out of my mouth in place of helping to feed me? You know that I am much
straitened in circumstances, and have really only barely enough for my
maintenance. I have never had in my possession the sum which you demand of
me, but for which, out of charity, I made myself surety: do you wish to
seize for it my goods, rather than those of the real debtor? Well, if so,
I have some patrimony. I give it up to you: there is my furniture. Turn it
all out into the public square, and sell it. I put myself absolutely into
your hands to do as you please. I only ask of you to love me for God's
sake, and not to offend Him in any way by anger, hatred, or scandal. If you
will do this I am content."
The only reply to this was a fresh outburst of furious invectives and
accusations, to which our Blessed Father replied with unalterable serenity:
"Sir, since my indiscretion in making myself surety for my friend is the
cause of your anger, I will with all the haste possible do what I can to
satisfy you. At the same time, I wish you to know that had you plucked
out one of my eyes, I would have looked as affectionately at you with the
other, as at the dearest friend I have in the world."
The creditor retired, covered indeed with confusion, but still muttering
injurious words, and calling the holy Bishop a hypocrite, a bigot, and the
like. Blessed Francis immediately sent an account of the affair to the real
debtor, who came as quickly as was possible and at once discharged the
debt. The creditor, full of shame and repentance, hastened to ask pardon of
our Blessed Father, and he, receiving the prodigal with open arms, treated
him ever afterwards with special tenderness, calling him his _friend
regained_.
Again, when he was in Paris in 1619, having gone there with the Cardinal of
Savoy, who wished to be present at the marriage of his brother, the Prince
of Piedmont, with Madame Christine of France, the King's sister, our
Blessed Father was told that a man of tolerably good position professing
the so-called Reformed Religion wished to see him.
Introduced into the Bishop's apartment, the Protestant, without the
smallest sign of reverence, or even courtesy, addressed him in these words:
"Are you what they call the Bishop of Geneva?"
"Sir," replied our holy Prelate, "that is my title, though in that city
I am not so much in request as I am in the other parts of the diocese
committed to my charge."
"Well, I should just like to know from you, who are regarded everywhere as
an apostolic man, whether the Apostles were in the habit of going about in
carriages?"
Our Blessed Father, in telling me this story, owned that he was somewhat
taken aback by the suddenness of this attack! Collecting his thoughts,
however, and remembering the case of St. Philip the Deacon, who, though not
the Apostle of that name, was undoubtedly an apostolic man, and who went
up into the chariot of Queen Candace's eunuch, he answered quietly that
they did so when convenience required it, and the occasion for doing so
presented itself.
"I should be very glad," replied the man, scornfully, "if you could show me
that in Scripture." The Bishop quoted the instance to which we have just
referred. His opponent, not noticing the fact of this not being St. Philip
the Apostle, retorted, "But this carriage was not his own, it belonged
to the eunuch, who invited him to come up into it," "I never told you,"
answered Francis, "that the carriage was his own. I only said that when
the occasion presented itself the first preachers of the Gospel rode in
carriages." "But not in gilded coaches such as yours, sir," returned the
Protestant, "nor drawn by such splendid horses, nor driven by a coachman in
such superb livery. Why, the King himself has nothing better! This is what
I complain of; and this it is in you which scandalizes me. And you, above
all, who play the Saint, and whom the papists look upon as such. Fine
Saints, forsooth, who go to Paradise so much at their ease!"
Blessed Francis, seeing at once where the shoe pinched, answered gently,
"Alas, sir, the people of Geneva who have seized upon the property
belonging to my See have cut me down so close as regards money that I have
barely enough to live upon in the most frugal way. As to a carriage, I have
never had one, nor money enough to buy one." "Then that splendid carriage,
which is, so to speak, regal, in which I see you every day driving about
the city is not your own?" rejoined the antagonist. "Certainly not,"
replied the Bishop, "and you are quite right in calling it regal, for it
belongs to His Majesty, and is one of those set apart by him for people
who, like myself, are mere attendants of the Princes of Savoy. The royal
livery worn by the servants ought to have shown you this!" "Now, indeed,"
said the Protestant, "I am satisfied, and I esteem you. I see that you
are in the right, and that, notwithstanding, you are humble." After some
further remarks he put some questions as to the birth and manner of life of
the Saint, and was so perfectly contented with his replies that he quitted
him with expressions of esteem and affection, and ever afterwards held him
in the highest respect.
Again, preaching during an Advent and Lent at Grenoble, not only a great
concourse of Catholics flocked to hear him, but also such numbers of
Protestants of the Geneva following that their ministers became alarmed and
held meetings to decide what measures should be taken to avert a storm,
which threatened desolation to their strongholds and was fast emptying
their conventicles. They decided at last on a personal conflict with their
opponent, choosing one of their most furious pastors, a man of violent
temper and bitter tongue, to argue with Blessed Francis, and, as they
expected, to worst him in a controversy. The holy Bishop, who had already
had much practice and success in this kind of warfare at Thonon, Ternier,
and Gaillard, the bailiwicks of his diocese which he had brought back into
the bosom of the True Church, cheerfully agreed to the proposal. In answer
to the remonstrances of his friends, and especially of one gentleman of
Belley, a man of the greatest probity and piety, who painted the Protestant
ministers in the blackest colours, and told the Bishop that insults would
literally be heaped upon him, he replied, "Well, that is exactly what we
want; this contempt is just what I ask. For how great is the glory to
Himself that God will derive from my confusion!" On his friends reminding
him that he would be exposing his sacred office to derision, "What of
that?" replied the Bishop, "did not our Saviour suffer shame for us--were
not insults heaped upon Him?"
"Oh," said the other, "you aim too high." "To tell you the truth," said
our Saint, "I am hoping that God will give me the grace to endure insults
without end, for when we are finely humbled He will be gloriously exalted.
You will see conversion upon conversion following the train of this affair,
a thousand falling on the left hand and ten thousand on the right, God is
wont at all times to make our infamy redound to His honour. Did not the
Apostles come forth rejoicing from those assemblies in which they had
suffered contumely for the name of Jesus? Take courage, God will help us;
those who hope in Him never lack any good thing and are never confounded."
Was it possible to carry patience further than this? Doubtless, had the
meeting taken place, the envenomed darts of heresy would have glanced aside
from the spotless, shining shield of Faith carried by Blessed Francis, but
the devil, fearing to be worsted in the fight, suggested so many prudent
reasons to the Protestant Minister's friends, who, in reality, had their
doubts about both his virtue and his capacity for conducting the conference
that they got it forbidden by the Lieutenant of the King, though himself at
that time a heretic.
Another striking example of patience. A person of some influence and
consideration once applied to Blessed Francis asking him to obtain an
ecclesiastical preferment for a certain Priest. The Bishop replied that
in the matter of conferring benefices he had, of his free will, tied his
own hands, having left the choosing of fitting subjects to the decision
of a board of examiners, who were to recommend the person to be appointed
after due examination of the merits and talents of the candidates. As for
himself, he said, he simply presided over the meeting. Should, however, the
gentleman's friend present himself as a candidate, he, the Bishop, would
promise to bear the recommendation in mind. The petitioner felt piqued at
this answer, and quite losing his temper, replied to the Bishop in the most
disrespectful and even insulting manner. The gentle firmness with which
his anger was met only infuriated him the more, and he eventually lost all
command over himself. It was in vain that the Bishop tried to soothe him by
proposing to examine the claimant privately. This had no effect.
The Saint then said gently but gravely: "Do you then wish me to give the
charge of my sheep blindfolded and to the first comer? Ask yourself if
there is reasonableness in such a request as you are making?"
But not even this appeal to his reason turned the flood of the man's wrath,
and he quitted the Bishop's presence in a passion of disrespect impossible
to describe. A most excellent Priest who had been in the room all through
the interview asked the Bishop, after the departure of his impudent
visitor, how he could bear such treatment with the patience he showed.
"Well," he answered, "it was not he himself that spoke, it was his passion.
After all he is one of my best friends, and you will see that my silence on
this occasion will only make our friendship the stronger.
"More than this. Has not God from all eternity foreseen that these insults
would be offered to me to-day, and foreseen, too, that He would bestow
on me such grace as would enable me to bear them joyfully? Should I not
drain the chalice held to my lips by the hands of so loving a Father? Oh!
how sweet is this inebriating cup, offered to me by a hand which from my
infancy I have learnt to adore." "But," returned the Priest, "were not your
feelings stirred at all by this treatment?"
"Well," replied the Bishop, "I tried to overcome them by fixing my thoughts
on the good qualities of the man whose friendship I have so long and so
happily enjoyed. Then, too, I hope that when this storm in a tea-cup has
subsided and the clouds of passion have lifted, my friend will come back to
me with peace in his heart and serenity on his countenance."
Nor was the Saint's expectation disappointed. His friend did come back, and
with many tears begged his forgiveness; a forgiveness which was, you may be
sure, granted so fully and with such loving readiness as to increase the
fervour and sincerity of their old and mutual affection.