ST. RITA RECEIVES HER MIRACULOUS WOUND
ST. RITA RECEIVES HER MIRACULOUS WOUND
LIFE OF ST. RITA
OF CASCIA, O.S.A.
from the Italian
BY
VERY REV. RICHARD CONNOLLY
O.S.A., D.D.
R. & T. WASHBOURNE
4 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON
BENZIGER BROS.: NEW YORK, CINCINNATI AND CHICAGO
1903
Nihil Obstat:
FR. JOANNES L. CONDON, O.S.A.,
CENS. DEPUTATUS.
PERMISSION TO PUBLISH
We approve of the publication of the 'Life of
St. Rita of Cascia,' from the Italian, by the
Very Rev. Fr. Richard Connolly, O.S.A., D.D.
FR. W. O'SULLIVAN, O.S.A.,
VICAR PROVINCIAL.
CORK, Feast of St. Patrick, 1903.
Imprimatur:
HERBERTUS CARDINALIS VAUGHAN,
ARCHIEPISCOPUS WESTMONASTERIENSIS.
CONTENTS
PART I
RITA IN THE WORLD
CHAPTER
I. CASCIA: A GLANCE AT ITS HISTORY
II. RITA'S PARENTS
III. RITA'S WONDERFUL CONCEPTION
IV. RITA'S BIRTH
V. THE WHITE BEES OF ST. RITA
VI. RITA'S CHILDHOOD
VII. RITA'S LOVE OF RETIREMENT
VIII. RITA'S MARRIAGE
IX. RITA AS WIFE
X. DEATH OF RITA'S HUSBAND AND CHILDREN—RITA AS WIDOW
PART II
RITA IN THE CLOISTER
I. RITA'S MIRACULOUS ENTRY INTO THE CLOISTER AND HER RECEPTION
II. RITA AS NOVICE—HER PROFESSION
III. RITA'S CHARITY
IV. OTHER VIRTUES WHICH RITA PRACTISED IN THE CLOISTER
V. RITA'S OBSERVANCE OF THE RELIGIOUS VOWS
VI. RITA'S PENANCES
VII. RITA'S SPIRIT OF PRAYER
VIII. A THORN FROM THE SAVIOUR'S CROWN OF THORNS WOUNDS RITA'S FOREHEAD
IX. RITA GOES TO ROME TO GAIN THE INDULGENCE OF THE JUBILEE
X. RITA'S LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH
PART III
RITA IN HEAVEN
I. WONDERFUL EVENTS THAT HAPPENED AT RITA'S DEATH—BURIAL OF HER SACRED BODY
II. MIRACLES WROUGHT BY GOD THROUGH RITA'S INTERCESSION BEFORE HER BEATIFICATION
III. EFFICACY OF THE RELICS OF ST. RITA
IV. MARVELS OF ST. RITA'S SEPULCHRE
V. IMMEMORIAL WORSHIP OF ST. RITA
VI. SOLEMN BEATIFICATION OF RITA
VII. MIRACLES WORKED BY RITA AFTER HER BEATIFICATION
VIII. MORE RECENT MIRACLES OF ST. RITA
IX. HER CANONIZATION
X. THE THREE MIRACLES APPROVED FOR HER CANONIZATION
CONCLUSION
Part I
RITA IN THE WORLD
LIFE OF ST. RITA OF CASCIA
CHAPTER I
CASCIA: A GLANCE AT ITS HISTORY
St. Bernard observes that the place in which our Saviour died attracts our devotion in a greater degree than any of those places in which He dwelt during His life, and can therefore boast of a certain pre-eminence. Speaking of St. Rita, we can say the same of Cascia compared with Rocca Porena, her birthplace. Cascia governed Rocca Porena as did Jerusalem Nazareth, but it is not on this account we claim its superiority, but because our saint lived there for many years and died there, and there her relics are venerated. Cascia is therefore looked upon as St. Rita's home, and hence she is called St. Rita of Cascia. Were we but to give a cursory sketch of the history of Cascia from its annals, which still exist, the present volume could not contain what we should be forced to write, so important did it become; we will therefore content ourselves with alluding to a few of the more salient points in its story.
This ancient and illustrious town is built under the shadow of the Apennines, at a point in that chain of mountains almost midway between the Alps and the Mediterranean. It is on the borders of Umbria, seven miles from Norcia, ten from Leonessa, thirty from Rieti, and twenty-three from Spoleto. It stands on the site of the ancient Cursula, which is believed to have been a Roman free-town—that is, its people enjoyed the honours, rights, and privileges of Roman citizenship, and their town was governed by its own laws. That Cursula was a town of some importance is attested by its remains, which are still extant, notably by the Temple of the Augurs, the Temple of Mars, and the House of the Duumviri.
We have nothing else than these remains to guide us in inquiring into the history of Cursula, nor can we surmise the epoch from whence to date its existence. We know from Dionysius of Halicarnassus that it was destroyed, and that a new town rose on the ruins of the original one, but the dates of these events cannot be fixed with certainty. The date of the rebuilding of Cursula may, with some probability, be placed at something more than ten years before the birth of our Saviour, and hence its pagan inhabitants were strengthening the foundations of its future greatness when Jesus Christ, born in Bethlehem, was laying the foundation of the Redemption of man. We know, too, that it was a republic, but are left in the dark as to how it managed to achieve and preserve its independence. It is credible that, like other Italian cities, it acquired its liberty at the time of the second fall of the Roman Empire, after the death of the Emperor-Saint Henry, during the Pontificate of John XIX., or about the year 1025. This independence it retained till 1260, in which year, through the ambition of rival leaders, the seeds of civic dissension were sown, and the republic was exposed to dangers from without. It was at this time that the people of Cascia determined to put themselves under the authority of Alexander IV., who then occupied the Papal chair. They were induced to this action by what they saw of the peaceful nature of the Papal government, and because they adhered to the Guelph party, which was favourable to the Holy See. Alexander IV. was the great Pontiff who, uniting the greatest virtues to the highest mental attainments, contrived during the height of the sanguinary quarrels between Guelphs and Ghibellines, which had for twenty years torn and divided Italy, to stamp out incendiarism, to crush tyranny, and cause peace and happiness to flourish again in the distracted peninsula. Cascia had no reason to regret the changed state of affairs, for the monarchical system which its submission to the Pope introduced by no means destroyed its republican form of government. Hence it retained the right of regulating its own affairs by its own laws; hence its mayor, elected every six months, retained his authority; hence it retained those chiefs of the people, at first called 'Ateposti,' then 'Gonfalonieri,' and finally 'Consuls.' To these latter a troop of soldiers, called the people's jury, was subject, who had the duty not only of defending the people, but of acting on the offensive when necessary. The court of justice, the guards and robes of the consuls, the stately retinue of the mayor, the fortifications with their garrisons, the number of subject towns and villages—of which more than forty recognise Cascia as their chief at present, without speaking of the many which the ravages of time have destroyed—the right of peace and war left, at least in part, to the brave people of Cascia—these and other memories of the past, which even now may be seen in the consular registers, constitute a proof of the liberty which Cascia enjoyed under the Popes and of the fame which it acquired.
But at the beginning of the disastrous and prolonged schism of the anti-Popes, Cascia unfurled the standard of rebellion, either through a desire of complete independence, or, as some say, on account of the insolent conduct of the Papal soldiers, and for a period of about 131 years—till the year 1517—it remained under a sort of mixed government. This interval of complete independence was filled up by an uninterrupted series of wars waged with its neighbours of Norcia, of Leonessa, of Monreale, of Aquila, or of Cerreto. But after the first outburst of enthusiasm for complete independence, and in the midst of quarrels with its neighbours, the republic of Cascia took occasion to show its pristine reverence and love for the See of Rome. A clear proof of the correspondence between Cascia and the Papal See is the formal announcement, made by the Cardinals met together in council at Constance, to the commune of Cascia, of the election of Pope Martin V. to the Pontifical throne. The prompt assistance given by the people of Cascia to Eugene IV., successor to Martin V., against Corrado Trinci, Governor of Foligno, who tried to make himself lord and master of that city, is another proof of their loyalty to the Holy See. When the wise and great-minded Leo X. ascended the Papal throne he brought back Cascia to its obedience to the Holy See by a brief dated 1517. All its ancient privileges and distinctions were confirmed by him, and a Cardinal was appointed to govern the city; for Cascia still continued to have the title 'city,' as it had till 1600 at least. Some speak of money coined there, of its coats of arms, of printing done there, of its prosperity and commerce, of the cultivation of the fine arts; but the cultivation of souls is what chiefly adorns it.
And, in the first place, if nobility presupposes the talents or merits of ancestors either in field or court, what must we say of Cascia, which reckoned in its environs 200 famous families, which are extinct only within the last two centuries, without speaking of others that betook themselves elsewhere, or of the ancient patrician families that still dwell in the homes of their ancestors?
There is no need to go back to remote antiquity to catch a glimpse of the great men who had their origin in Cascia in the splendour of its greatest glories. The great ones born there, even in the latest years of its decadence, are a proof of what it produced in the past, and are sufficient to renew the honours it merited in its beginnings.
The Cardinals, the Bishops, the Prelates, the names distinguished in science and in arms of the Poli, Frenfanelli, Benenati, Cruciani, Squarcipani, Colangeli, Negroni, Graziani, Franceschini, Leonetti, Giudici, Elemosina, Girolami, Gregorietti, and of other illustrious families, would supply ample material to whosoever would wish to pronounce the praises of Cascia. We, who have for our study a nun and a saint, shall content ourselves with going into the shadow of the cloister and of the sanctuary. We find Andrew of Cascia, a Franciscan who lived at the same time as St. Rita, who had the happiness of bringing the Gospel to the Turks at Fez, where he suffered martyrdom after converting many to Christ and working many miracles. The glory of this humble friar outshines the glory which the honours of the world can give. Blessed Pace, a Minor Conventual, born in Cascia, great in virtue and by the miracles he worked, raised himself above every earthly greatness.
But what must have most drawn the soul of our St. Rita to desire from her childhood the life of the cloister, and to follow it in her mature years, were the singular models of sanctity which the Augustinian institute in Cascia could furnish. The memory of the saintly heroes, followers of the great Augustine, who dwelt in the woods about Cascia, was to her the memory of a recent event. The first of these recluses is Blessed John, who from being lord of three towns shut himself in the Valley of Attino, not far from Cascia, in order to lead a life hidden in God in the deepest contemplation. Then comes Blessed Ugolino, who imitated the example of Blessed John in renouncing the pleasant things of this world to engage himself entirely with heavenly things in the hermitage of St. Anatolia, in the territory of Cascia, where, living in misery, he prepared for himself a way to a high degree of glory in heaven. The third is Blessed Simon Fidati, whom the shades of the hermitage could not hide from the world. For the books on the ascetic life which this very learned hermit of St. Augustine wrote in these solitudes began to make him known; then his unwearying and fruitful preaching through the chief cities of Italy, especially Florence and Siena; the conversions of which he was the instrument; the number of enemies he reconciled; his spirit of prophecy; his unconquerable charity on most difficult occasions; the foundation of two monasteries in the city of Florence; the other works written by him, whence he deserved to be reckoned the brightest ornament of the Augustinian Order at that time, both by his eloquence and profound learning, more infused than acquired, as well as for the piety and fervour which animated him in writing—these and many other of his merits made him glorious in this world, and still more glorious in heaven.
Contemporary with Blessed Simon were many other remarkable men of the same Order, and born in the same place, as Fr. Bartolo, Vicar of the Lateran Basilica, who enriched his convent of Cascia with more than 600 relics; the Venerable Andrew, noble standard-bearer of the Gospel in Turkey; another Venerable Andrew, of the Capozi family, rendered famous his country, his name, and the Augustinian Order by his fruitful preaching and his learning. Fr. Nicholas, of the noble family of the Saracini of Cascia, was also a contemporary of St. Rita. After leaving the pomp of the world to follow Jesus Christ in poverty and humiliation, he was raised through all the ranks of the monastic hierarchy till he was elected and re-elected General of his Order, and then promoted by Pope John XXIII. to the episcopal See of Macerata and Recanati, where he died in the odour of sanctity in the arms of the people whom he had reformed and whom he loved. In those times, too, Stephen of Castel San Giorgio, in the district of Cascia, by his virtues and talents, obtained the highest honours in his Order, and became Procurator-General. We might mention the names of many other famous men of the convent and city of Cascia, either contemporary with St. Rita or nearly so, as Angelus and Louis of Cascia, Cherubinus Lavosi (Bishop of Telesia), Paoletti, Squarcipani, Amici, three of the Simonetti family—all either theologians of some eminence or famous preachers, or remarkable for their writings; but the notice of these and of others, however praiseworthy for virtue or honourable to their native city of Cascia, might seem beside our purpose and be tedious to those who wish to read the life of St. Rita. At all events, it may be deduced from what we have written that Cascia was not without honour in its history and in its inhabitants.
Still, what is Cascia in the sight of God? What is even Jerusalem before Him and in the light of His inscrutable judgment? Human greatness, which dazzles our eyes, disappears in the glance of God, and is lost in its own nothingness. There is no distinction of persons with Him, nor is there distinction of places. The little town of Nazareth, out of which, in the common very poor opinion of it, it seemed nothing good could come, was, in the Divine councils, preordained to be the fatherland of the Saviour of the world; and the still meaner town of Bethlehem—even a stable in Bethlehem—was chosen as His place of birth. Thus it often happens that God chooses the weak things, the lowly, the despicable, the things of naught to confound the goodly things and the strong, and to work great designs, in order that the creature may not have whence to vaunt himself before his Creator. Such was the case exactly with that humble spot Rocca Porena, which was destined to be the birthplace of St. Rita.
To give some idea of it, let us say it is two miles and a half from Cascia towards the west, where it is closed in, not to say buried. An overhanging mountain crushes it in on all sides and dominates it, and with difficulty gives access to it from the east by two narrow roads, one on either side of a precipitous rock. The river which flows to the base of this rock, famous in the life of the saint, does not approach the small piece of level ground which, together with the village, forms the bottom of a deep basin. The sun is tardy there in rising, and sets early, leaving the barren plain to its languor and sadness. One would say that a place so isolated and confined, where neither the beauty of nature nor of art appears, and where the sky is almost the only thing in view, was created for contemplation and to be the home of innocence. The two houses of St. Rita are still to be seen, almost at opposite ends of the village, the one in which she was born and lived until her marriage in that part called the Borghetto, and the other where she lived a wife, and which is now turned into a little chapel in her honour, in the place called the Piazza. The saint's garden, now grown wild, is also shown to the pious traveller. Besides these there does not seem to be anything worthy of mention. We may therefore infer that as Bethlehem was styled the least amongst the cities of Judea, so, perhaps, is Rocca Porena the least amongst the towns of Cascia—the least, indeed, as a place, but memorable by reason of the favour shown it, which exalts it far above the others, since it has given to us that great saint who, by her singular example of innocence and virtue, is become the guide and model in the way of perfection to virgins, to married women, to widows, and to those living in the cloisters, in such a manner as Bethlehem—if we may lawfully make a comparison between the original and a faint copy—was exalted by the birth of Jesus Christ, where, as Blessed Simon of Cascia says, He made Himself the mystical and life-giving bread for our common nourishment and comfort on the way which leads to heaven.
CHAPTER II
RITA'S PARENTS
The fortunate parents of Rita were Antonio Mancini, of Rocca Porena and Amata Ferri, who is believed to be from a village called Fogliano. Antonio was not noble, nor had he a title, but we may apply to him the praise which the Holy Spirit gives to Noah—that he was a just man and perfect in his times, and he walked with God. The Gracchi, the Scipios, the CÆsars among the number of their family honours cannot find a title greater or even equal to this.
Every other superiority is vanity, and if there be glory from other titles, it is the glory of another, which cannot pass to the posterity of those who merited it. Justice alone makes that real nobility which St. Augustine and other holy fathers call nobility according to the heart of God. And although even this cannot be passed on to descendants, as it did not pass from Noah to his son Cham, whom he cursed, yet it is not unusual for God to recall the justice of parents, not only for a model, but to give a certain extrinsic glory to their descendants. Hence, when the Holy Spirit wished to record the praises of St. John the Baptist, He wished also for his honour that we should remember that his parents were both 'just before God, walking in all the commandments and justifications of the Lord without blame.' So we can also say of Antonio and Amata, of whom was born St. Rita, who had a special devotion to St. John. They were not of noble blood, but they were noble in their works; they were not rich in temporal goods, but they were rich in the true treasures of Divine grace, which do not pass from those who possess them. They enjoyed the esteem of all who knew them, an esteem more precious than that which flattery offers to the rich and great of this world. Their fortune constituted that mediocrity which the wise man sought from God in order that abundance might not tempt him to forget his Creator, nor poverty to give himself a prey to any vice. The industrious and honourable labour, and the innocent pastoral life which in their time did not degrade the Patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, did not make the Mancini family less worthy of honour. Rather from the fruits of their labour did they acquire the means of exercising a beneficent liberality towards the poor of Jesus Christ, whom they cherished with an ardent charity. Whether the fruits of their fields were abundant or scarce, these two happy ones, husband and wife, lived contented in their frugality, always giving thanks to the Giver of every good gift, and placing themselves entirely in conformity with the most just and providential dispositions of heaven. Perfect concord, which was their dearest virtue, since in it is the fulness of the law, always reigned in their home. And hence when they heard of divisions amongst others, which were only too frequent in that age and country, they were speedily present with them, and with their insinuating manners and holy zeal they insisted in their charitable offices till peace was restored. They were, on this account, commonly called the 'peacemakers of Jesus Christ.'
They corrected the erring according to the rules of the Gospel; they interceded for them with so fervent prayers, with so great concern, and with so happy results, that, like Moses, they appeared to be constituted mediators between the people and God. They steadily hated vice, and practised every virtue. The book from which they learned and cherished sentiments so virtuous was none other than the Passion of the Redeemer. It furnished them with inexhaustible matter for their meditations, for their liveliest compassion, and for that remarkable piety which, from her cradle, they instilled into the heart of Rita, and which they left her as a heritage. In a word, it may with reason be said of them what was said of the parents of St. John the Baptist—that they were both just to the eyes of God, walking without stain in the exact observance of the law. This was their nobility, this was their wealth, which it pleased God to pass to their daughter and to multiply in her in a singular way. Thus we may say, as Blessed Simon of Cascia writes, that the parents' goodness instilled the best dispositions even before her birth into her who was to be born from them, as the goodness of Zachary and Elizabeth went to exalt the holy precursor St. John.
Thus these two holy souls, husband and wife, lived a long series of years in these exercises of virtue and piety, without, however, seeing any fruit of their chaste union. God so disposed it that the desires of their youthful years should be vain, that they should labour to detach their minds still more from mortal things, and in order that the proofs of an extraordinary work of His providence should one day shine the brighter. Meanwhile, their desire of offspring, with which nature innocently inspired them, had not only grown cold with advancing years, but was quite extinct; no other care should remain with them now than that of ascending to the eternal heritage of the heavenly Father, instead of descending to the care of children and transmitting their temporal possessions to their posterity on earth.
CHAPTER III
RITA'S WONDERFUL CONCEPTION
That God, who is wonderful in His saints, and who, to use a sacred expression, seems at times to play sport with the world, and especially with those creatures that form His delight, wished in the end, and at a time when in the natural order offspring could least be expected from these old and barren consorts, to grant them in a prodigious manner the fulfilment of their ancient desires—a fulfilment the more acceptable as more unforeseen, and the happier and more certain inasmuch as it was marked and sealed with the seal of the Omnipotent. So great and so remarkable graces can foreshadow only great and remarkable sanctity.
Isaac was meant to be the type of Jesus Christ sacrificed for the human race; he was intended to be a figure of the propagation of the faithful; he should be great in the order of grace. Still, he was born out of the order of nature, of parents also barren by reason of their age. He who was to prepare the way for the impending appearance of the Redeemer, and who was to be more than a prophet and the greatest amongst the saints, he also was miraculously born of parents aged and barren; not to speak of other distinguished personages, both of the Old and New Testaments, who in various ways were born in a supernatural manner to exalt the stupendous works of omnipotence and of grace. Not otherwise did the Lord, who in His lofty designs intended great things for our heroine, dispose that her conception should be most remarkable and above the order of nature.
Amata became conscious of the wonderful event, and, full of amazement, she dared not credit the evidence of it. In such a state she felt her heart agitated, now by fears that she was deceived, again by hope of the contrary; at one time by shame at so unusual an occurrence at such an age as hers, at another her feelings of wonder overwhelmed her; and again she experienced renewed struggles of fresh fears, emotions, and passions. But, as is the way with the just, the troubled woman had recourse to prayer to the Father of light, to the God of consolation, and whilst she persevered in her humble, fervent, and constant prayers, there appeared to her an angel, a bearer of certainty, of peace, and of happy tidings, as an angel appeared to Abraham and Sara while they were employed in the charitable exercise of hospitality, and to Zachary amidst his prayers and offerings of incense. However joyful and consoling in itself was this angelic apparition, it did not fail to cause in her heart feelings of perturbation. Daniel and the other prophets had a like sensation in similar circumstances; Zachary had the same feelings, and so had the most holy Mother of God herself. The reason is, as Blessed Simon of Cascia wisely observes, that humanity is naturally disturbed and stricken with fear at the sudden sight of things extraordinary or greater than itself. But, as the same blessed writer adds, since those heavenly spirits, when they are sent for our relief, are accustomed to comfort the timid, thus, as the archangel told the father of the future Precursor not to fear, and by the announcement of his birth in the near future calmed his heart with efficacious words, so did another ambassador from heaven bring the same security and joy to the troubled mind of Rita's mother, and assure her that she should bring forth a child; and that nothing should be wanting to the fulness of her consolation, he made known to her in brief the eminent virtues and glory of the daughter that was to be born to her, as the sanctity of the Baptist was likewise foretold to Zachary.
The miraculous pledge of grace which Antonio's happy wife bore already in her womb and her lively faith prevented her from smiling at announcements so wonderful; unlike Abraham's wife, who smiled at a not dissimilar announcement. Nor did she sin through incredulity, as did Elizabeth's husband, who was punished for his sin, but forewarned by fact, and full of that faith which teaches that God can raise up children to Abraham even from the very stones, she instantly believed in the words of the angel. The angelic vision disappeared, and Amata, considering her own unworthiness, was seized with fresh wonder and profound humility. Thinking at the same time on the signal favour, she retired, with great contentment and singular gratitude and love towards the Divine goodness, to pour out the fulness of her pure and fervent affection at the feet of her most beneficent God. It is easy to think what a new stimulus to piety in herself and her virtuous husband was this great grace. Thus they remained happy in their virtue and secure in the hands of Divine providence, joyously awaiting the happy day of Rita's extolled birth.
CHAPTER IV
RITA'S BIRTH
Now that we are about to describe Rita's birth, it will not be out of place to cast a passing glance at the unhappy state of those times, in order to see things more clearly as we progress with our history, and in order that the providence of God and His grace may more clearly be discerned to His honour and glory. The memories are still fresh in our minds, or, rather, the wounds which the avenging sword of the God of armies inflicted on us. There is not a moment in which we do not recall with horror the mournful losses inflicted by arms on property, commerce, arts, study, families, States, good order, morals, on religion and the Church. But however true and just our regrets may be, it is a fact that Italy was much more harassed and afflicted at the period about the birth of Rita. To read of the extortions of the Visconti through the wide extent of their dominions in Lombardy, the cruelty exercised by them on the pretext of punishing treason, their unbridled lust, and their most unworthy harassing of the clergy, excites our horror. At the other extremity of Italy, in the kingdom of Naples, a territory of equal importance, wrongs and scandals of every description, and the most deplorable calamities, caused by the parties of the Dukes of Anjou and Surazzo, who laid claim to the kingdom, spread themselves and took root as the civil war that followed on the death of King Robert became more widespread. The different other States into which Italy was then divided were not anything better. For the luxury of these little Courts which tried to rival the great ones to the grave oppression of the people, their despotism, their rivalry and wars, their unbridled ambition to command which multiplied the domestic treasons and assassinations of brothers by brothers, of relatives by relatives (if we except the houses of Savoy, Monferrato, Saluzzo, and Este)—these and the other dominant vices and scandals served only to increase misery and sorrow. The cities of the Papal States were also, for the most part, groaning under the yoke of rebels—bloody, inexorable, lewd tyrants—and especially before Gregory IX. re-established his throne in Rome after his return from Avignon. And, as if these Italian tyrants were not sufficient to cause public misery, hordes of devastating soldiers issued from Germany, Hungary, and England to complete the confusion. Warner, Muriale, Sando, Anchino, Augustus, and others—all captains of the dissolute soldiers of fortune—were the stubborn arbiters of Italian affairs from the middle of the fourteenth century till the time of Charles V., although they were not owners of even a perch of land. These gave their services in the perpetual wars to whoever paid them best, and went about pillaging, imposing tribute and subsidies—and woe to him who was slow in satisfying their demands!—laying waste fields, besieging towns, and universally exercising their pitiless power. Hence, as the people model themselves after the manners of kings and nobles, it is easy to divine the general state of morals in the midst of such depravity. Let us draw a veil over that picture, the sight of which would move to horror humanity, religion, and especially modesty.
Let it suffice to say that so deeply rooted was this universal depravity that not even the pestilence, that so evident sign of the anger of heaven, which in the middle of that century carried off more than half the inhabitants of Italy, was able to check it. And that which the prophet Isaias seems to have foreseen in his time, but in another sense, was fulfilled here too: such as the people is, so shall the priest be—so strong was the influence of the bad example and want of discipline introduced into Italy by the abandoning of their Apostolic See in Rome by the Popes. The prevailing depravity afterwards opened the way to still greater evils.
For the zeal with which Urban VI., successor of Gregory XI., sought to remedy the evils which afflicted the Church was intolerable to some, and hence followed the election of an anti-Pope, which gave rise to that terrible schism which burst forth a little before the birth of Rita, and ended only a short time before her death.
Who can recall without tears the separations between friends, princes taking opposing sides, the spiritual and temporal arms put in antagonism, the neglect of the canons, the numberless scandals and losses of the Church, which would at that time have been threatened with absolute ruin, but that the gates of hell can never prevail against the unshakable edifice founded on the rock of Peter, which can never fail? The Church was at that time, moreover, filled with sorrow by the heresies of the Beguins, the Flagellants, the Adamites, the Waldensians, the Wickliffites, and others, and by the rapid successes of Amurath I., who, to the loss of the Christian name, took possession of Thessaly and Macedonia about the time of Rita's birth. Neither in the Eastern nor in the Western Church was there an Emperor either fitted to oppose a bulwark against the inrush of such evils or disposed to oppose them. John Paleologus in the East had lost heart through his frequent defeats, and was leagued against the powers of Christendom; and in the West, Wenceslaus, given to the wine-cup and to luxury, was become good for nothing.
The republics of the time, amongst which was Cascia, were not much more fortunate than the kingdoms. Genoa and Venice, which only a short time previous might have been compared in their rivalry to Rome and Carthage in the ancient world, had now both become exhausted of all their strength through a long series of stubborn wars undertaken against one another, and although they were now mutually at peace and also with the other Powers, through the intervention of the Duke of Savoy, they were unable to show any opposition to the common enemy of Christendom. Nor did the avarice and ambition of these States fail to bring in their train a fruitful crop of all other vices. Florence, too, although happy in the cultivation of the fine arts, was infected with the general depravity. The city was torn by faction, and weakened by those other vices against which Blessed Simon of Cascia had so strenuously preached a few years earlier. And although these exhortations brought about a reform, it was but half-hearted and short-lived. Vicious practices increased in the city, and open rebellion against the Holy See was their eventual outcome. Of Cascia itself we read that in 1380 the Guelphs and the Ghibellines committed horrible atrocities throughout the city and its dependent territory. And although the opposing factions patched up a peace between them in that year, it was of no long duration, since, as we have said in the first chapter, the people of Cascia rebelled against the Holy See during the first years of the schism of the anti-Popes, just after the birth of Rita. Murder and robbery, pillage and incendiarism followed in the wake of rebellion, and brought ruin to many families in Cascia and destruction upon her religious places. A war soon broke out between Cascia and Leonessa, which lasted for twelve months, and would have continued much longer but for the friendly intervention of the Trinci of Foligno, through whose efforts peace was made. Such was the wretched condition of affairs in Italy at that time.
It is truly wonderful, as St. John Chrysostom says of a somewhat similar case, how so fair a rose as St. Rita was could have bloomed amid so many thorns. Yet such was the disposition of Divine providence, which decreed that where sin superabounded grace should abound in that chosen soul who, from the miraculous events that preceded her birth and her innocence, which she preserved intact, seemed almost to have been sanctified in her mother's womb. Rita, then, was born in the village of Rocca Porena in the year 1381, during the pontificate of Urban. Her parents were Antonio Mancini and Amata Ferri, the child of whose old age she was, the first and only fruit of their chaste love, or, rather, of their remarkable virtue. The pure joy which filled Amata's heart at the sight of the infant, which heaven itself had extolled, must have made her forget those trials which every mother has experienced since our first mother Eve committed original sin. Antonio, too, as he gazed tenderly on the predestined child, must have exulted in the Lord, and must, like Simeon of old, have felt himself ready to die content; he, too, could now sing a hymn of thanksgiving to God, who had granted him the happiness of seeing the glory of his family, of his country, and of the new house of Israel. The general joy and universal congratulation of relatives and neighbours added to the happiness of the pious couple, whose virtue and charity had made them esteemed by all. Thus did the relatives and neighbours of the holy Elizabeth rejoice at the equally wonderful birth of St. John the Baptist, for the Lord desired to make known the mercy he had shown in the first appearance of the Precursor. 'All who love goodness,' says Simon of Cascia, 'participate in the joy that is occasioned by the birth of one destined to live for the common good.' Those who rejoice in grace, and in the sight of the fruits of justice, must let their sentiments be evident to all, as in the present case, in which a pious mother brought forth a saintly child. It is part of the spiritual life to be pleased at the prosperity of others, and to rejoice with those especially who have been marked by the favour of the Omnipotent God.
Meanwhile, the parents of the newly-born infant, in the midst of these rejoicings, were pondering on what name they should call her, and again that God, who had by an angel announced her birth, again in a vision of the night made them know that Rita was to be her name. It is a rare privilege of some saints, remarks St. Ambrose, to deserve to get their names from God Himself. Thus Jacob was named Israel by the Lord, thus was the Baptist named John by the angel, thus the Eternal Father called the Word made flesh by the name Jesus before He was born, and thus did she who was to imitate the virtues of the Baptist and be a faithful follower of Jesus Christ get her name from heaven. The name Rita, as being quite an unusual name, must have been meant to signify the sanctity that was to mark the life of the child so designated, and if we were to give credence to the opinion of the Augustinian author Didacus, Rita signifies virtue and grace.
But this name foreshadowed only what Rita was to be, not what she was. For although she could be considered from then as a child of God in the order of predestination, yet according to the order of nature, and according to her actual state, she was, owing to original sin, a child of wrath; and to become an adopted child of God she needed to be cleansed from the hereditary stain of original sin in the sanctifying waters of the Redeemer. Her baptism took place on the fourth day after her birth, although we may believe her pious parents wished her to be baptized with all possible speed, and from the delay we may conclude that the time of her birth must have been in the winter season. There was no baptismal font at that time in Rocco Porena, and the child had therefore to be taken to the collegiate church of St. Mary in Cascia, where that grace which was to be the beginning and the seal of her sanctification awaited her. There Rita put off the garb of sin, and came forth from the salutary bath of baptism clothed in the garment of innocence and enriched with the gifts of the Holy Ghost, who from the moment chose her to be His spouse. Thus did the regenerated babe return to her mother's bosom and the joyful embraces of her parents, fairer to the eyes of faith than her beauty made her to the eyes of men.
CHAPTER V
THE WHITE BEES OF ST. RITA
When the godmother and her attendants returned from Cascia after the baptism, a feast was prepared for them and the relatives of the happy parents, to celebrate in a manner becoming their humble position the double birth of Rita in the order of nature and of grace. Meanwhile, the child had closed her eyes in a tranquil slumber. When the next day dawned, the fifth day of her existence, a swarm of bees, all of the fairest white colour, and such as were never before seen, made their appearance. They flew a-buzzing about the cradle of the child, and after alighting for a moment on her angelic face were seen to go in and come out of her slightly open mouth in a sort of regular order, as if to take from her lips the honey of Paradise. What feelings of wonder and awe must have been awakened in the heart of Amata and those who were present by so marvellous an occurrence!
The Gospel tells us that fear came upon all the neighbours of Elizabeth and Zachary as they considered the miraculous events that marked the birth of the Baptist, and that they noised abroad all these things that foretold his future extraordinary sanctity. In like manner similar the wonderful signs that were given at Rita's birth, for Divine providence so disposed it in order that honour should be rendered to her by those whose attention had been attracted by these extraordinary happenings, and that those who came in contact with her should be induced to order their own lives more exactly by following the salutary example she was to give. This incident of the appearance of the white bees in the cradle of our saint is the one which the painters and poets who have illustrated her life have vied most with one another in depicting. To avoid having to return again to the subject of the bees, which have ever been mentioned in connection with the life of St. Rita, we will here describe what seems to be a confirmation and perpetuation of the wonderful occurrence we have just related. Going from Rocca Porena to Cascia, and entering the convent where our saint resided, there, in an old wall opposite the convent gate, at a point midway between the cell which Rita inhabited and the spot in which her body was laid to rest, we are met with a sight that cannot fail to move us to admiration. For there, even to the present day, the bees, commonly called St. Rita's bees, have their nest. They are called St. Rita's, for they have been there since her time, and have come there, we may believe, owing to her, and, as it were, to do her honour. There is only a small number of them—some twelve or fifteen—and everything connected with them is extraordinary and wonderful. In the first place, as we have hinted above, the species to which these bees belong has never, as far as we are aware, been determined. They live each one to itself in a hole which it has dug in the wall, and as often as these holes have been stopped up in the process of plastering the wall they have again excavated them. They spin a sort of white substance, with which they stop the entrance to their retreat, as if to hide themselves from view during their long retirement and fast of eleven months. They appear only on those days dedicated to the memory of our Lord's Passion, and, be it noted, these are mostly movable feasts; and they betake themselves to retirement about the time of the death of St. Rita, who was devoted, as we shall see, to meditation on the Passion of our Lord. For four centuries they have been found in the same place, without ever having changed their place of abode. These ascertained facts seem to declare clearly enough that it has been the will of the Most High to extol through them the merit and the glory of His beloved servant. There is no need to add the many anecdotes of these bees, which are related in some lives of our saint, and which the nuns of Cascia still tell; let one suffice. Jacobilli says that one of these bees was sent to Pope Urban VIII. in a crystal vessel, and that it soon flew back again to the place it occupied in the convent wall.
Here it may be asked whether the bees we have described are the same that appeared when Rita was an infant in swaddling-clothes. It would be harder to give an answer to this question than to the riddle which Sampson proposed to his bridesmen. Sampson's faithless spouse was able to wrest his secret from him and then reveal it to her Philistine friends: that the sweetness that came forth out of the strong was the honeycomb that was made in the mouth of the lion that he had torn in pieces a short time before. But we can find no answer to our question. However, those biographers of St. Rita who, without hesitation, confused the bees that appeared at her birth with those in the convent may be excused, as they supposed both to be of the same white colour. But they have been mistaken, for those at present in the convent wall are not white—in fact, they do not differ in colour from ordinary bees, except that they are of a deep red on the back and they want the sting. But perhaps these writers were not so far from the truth, since there is but the accidental variety of colour that distinguishes the present bees from the white ones that appeared first at Rita's birth. And who can say but that those once meant by God to symbolize by their whiteness the splendour of Rita's baptismal innocence may not, through the power of God, have taken on their present appearance to signify the humiliation and sadness of the penances she took upon herself? To change the appearance of a species already existing or to create a new species is easy to God. Let the truth of the matter be where it may, it is clear that both are marvellous, and worthy to be recorded in the history of our saint. But it is time we returned to gaze on her, surrounded in her cradle by those lilies of her incipient sanctity, and crowned with the bright circle of bees that still buzzed around her. We might now inquire whether the bees that entered her innocent mouth made a honeycomb in it, as is believed to have happened to St. Ambrose in his infancy, as if to forecast the mellifluous eloquence which he poured forth in his manhood in defence of the Church. Although this anecdote as related of St. Rita is not sufficiently well proven, neither is it impossible; for when there is question of miraculous events the difficulties of time and place do not form an insurmountable obstacle, as they did not in the case of St. Ambrose. At all events, we have two authors that assert it, and perhaps their opinion is supported by the farther statement that is made—that Rita abstained from her mother's milk on the day on which the bees appeared, the fifth day after her birth. God may have wished to give her for corporal food mystical or symbolical honey of unearthly origin, as He had fed her soul with the food of baptismal grace. In this way would be more clearly signified that which was foreshadowed by the appearance of the bees, the insinuating sweetness in word and manner which was afterwards the cause of the conversion of many sinners, which ever brought consolation to the afflicted, and spiritual profit to all who had the good fortune to converse with her.
CHAPTER VI
RITA'S CHILDHOOD
St. Augustine in his Confessions takes up two chapters in describing his infancy, and he discovers in that period of his life only misery and vestiges of sin, but he recalls these evils that spring from our sinful origin only to extol the triumphs which Divine grace obtained in his mature years. The time of infancy is, however, one in which, since there can be no acts of reflection, nor exercise of will, there can be no demerit or actual sin, nor merit or virtue. It will not, therefore, be strange if our history passes over the infancy of Rita and proceeds to describe her childhood. From the extraordinary piety that distinguished her parents we can easily surmise what care they took in training and educating their child to instil into her mind the truths of religion. They had abundant proofs that Rita was especially dear to God, that she was born for heaven, and that Divine grace had marked her for its own. But they knew also that God, who disposes all things wisely, wished them to co-operate in moulding the chosen child to virtue and in establishing her in holiness. They were well aware that even the chiefest vessels of election had for a time kicked against the goads of grace. Nor were they ignorant what a bulwark of defence is raised by education and by the example of parents—a fact which many unhappy parents either know not or are careless of, and hence by their neglect they become the cause of the eternal ruin of their children. It will not, therefore, be useless to remark the watchfulness, the care and anxiety, with which Rita's parents observed all the movements, words, and actions of a child so dear to them, lest she should take a step to the right or to the left of the way that leads to heaven, and which, with the dawning of reason, she began to discern for herself. But these happy parents had no cause for anxiety during the process of instructing and moulding the character of their child, for she had, through God's grace, acquired a disposition marked by uncommon submission and precocious wisdom. Let it suffice to say that even then she could not bear those pastimes and sports which are proper to that tender age, and which are universally regarded as innocent. She had an example in Tobias, who, although he was the youngest in his tribe, showed himself to be the wisest, and never did anything that was childish.
Another failing, which is dear not only to children, but to all, and especially to the female sex, the love of fine clothes, was an abomination to Rita. We must not believe that a virtuous mother like Amata, especially considering her lowly condition, could allow her daughter to appear in anything savouring of pride or ostentation. On the other hand, Rita, although scrupulously obedient in other things to the slightest wish of her parents, became uneasy whenever they wished her to put on some pretty ornament; she used even to run away and hide herself at such times, till she saw that her disinclination provoked a smile. Thus, satisfied with her humble dress, she took more pains to adorn her soul than to improve her appearance by the addition of the least ornament. To simplicity in dress she joined a sedateness of manner so beyond her years that it attracted universal respect, admiration, and love, and set a salutary example not only to those of her own age, but to older people also. She restrained to a wonderful degree that common tendency of women to curiosity and gossip, and having her thoughts occupied with higher subjects she avoided all human conversation as far as good manners and obedience permitted. Obedience was the virtue according to which she regulated all her actions. She regarded a beck of her parents as a command of God which she could not violate; and her obedience was all the more willing as it accorded with the impulse of grace which impelled her to the practice of all other virtues. For obedience, as Blessed Simon of Cascia observes, is the gate of the virtues. Rita's love of retirement and of prayer had already risen to the heroic point. Whoever wished to see her was certain of finding her either at home or in the neighbouring parish church, which was her favourite place of prayer, where she spent entire hours in meditation and devotion, to the great edification of all. Although penance is a virtue hardly suitable to so tender an age or to such perfect innocence, yet Rita began from her earliest years to chastise her body by different mortifications, and especially by fasting; and to render her abstinence more meritorious and acceptable to God she distributed to the poor children of the neighbourhood that food which she denied herself, thus bringing forth fruits of mercy and charity from the root of penance. This was the only way in which her loving good-will and tender compassion could show themselves in action; poverty made anything further impossible. But the Lord, who searches the heart, and delights in men of goodwill, sought nothing more from Rita then. But she was unconsciously increasing in charity and in merit as she grew in years, so that she could apply to herself the saying of Job—that mercy came out with him from his mother's womb, and from his infancy grew up with him.[1] Not only did her spirit grow, as it were, and become strong by the exercise of these beautiful virtues, but her progress in all virtue was extraordinary.
CHAPTER VII
RITA'S LOVE OF RETIREMENT
St. John the Baptist experienced a similar strengthening of the spirit, as we read in that place in which it is also written that he went into the desert, where he hid himself, as Blessed Simon says, in order to give himself up entirely to prayer, contemplation, and penance. The comparison between these saints is often a fitting one, for Rita always follows closely in the footsteps of her great model. It is true that, according to the example of the Psalmist, she walked in the innocence of her heart, in the bosom of her virtuous family, for she found nothing abroad that could distract her spirit from the affairs of her home, whilst her gravity, modesty, and habitual seclusion opened to her a wide field for the exercise of her love of prayer. Yet she was so enamoured of heavenly things that she wearied of the things of earth, and desired, in a certain sense, to be out of the world; and since this could not be, she regarded with a holy envy the lot of so many anchorites and heroines of solitude, who, in deserts and in the depths of woods, lived lives more like those of angels than of men. She had before her eyes the examples of Blessed Simon, of Blessed Ugolino, of Blessed John, and of the other saintly hermits of St Augustine, who had only recently passed to their reward in heaven, or were still living in the neighbourhood of Rocca Porena. The example of these models of holiness increased in her heart her dearest desire to serve her beloved Jesus amid the silence of the woods and on the mounts of myrrh. But the love of her aged parents, and obedience, more than any thought of her youth and sex, prevented her from fulfilling her generous design. The sacred love with which she was animated made her industrious, and suggested the thought of converting her home into the solitude she longed for. With the consent of her parents she chose a little room separated from the others, and turned it into an oratory. Its walls she decorated with pictures of our Lord's Passion, and there she shut herself in, as into the midst of all delights. Her Divine Lover awaited her there to speak to her heart, and there, far from the eyes of men, in perpetual silence and abstinence, she enjoyed those ineffable consolations of grace which the profane know not of. The constant object of her thoughts, of her ecstasies of soul, of the most ardent love of her heart, was the Passion of her crucified Spouse; and in the midst of the tears which accompanied her meditation, whilst her heart was filled with Divine compassion, she experienced that true peace and happiness of soul which only grace can produce—how we know not—from sorrow. She felt herself transformed into the Crucified One, for whom alone she now lived—rather, she no longer lived, but Jesus Christ lived in her. In that school of love, through that Divine teaching, she came to know more certainly the fallacy of all worldly things; she saw how the world deceives us, and she saw also the charms and pomps and pleasures of this life, but she saw them as they really are, and could therefore say with the wise man that they are but vanity and affliction of spirit. She therefore resolved to have no part in this deceitful world, and since life in the desert was denied her, she resolved to bury herself in a cloister. But she had not yet reached the age in which to put her design into execution. Meanwhile the holy child lived in her first place of retirement for a full twelvemonth, until the obligation of assisting her parents and the duties of charity and obedience forced her from the place of her spiritual happiness. This happened probably when she was about eleven years old. Her parents were now beginning to feel the burden of their years, and Rita had perforce to enter upon an active life, and exercise works of mercy and justice, without, however, entirely abandoning her practices of meditation. Her history does not tell us how she performed the domestic duties that fell to her lot, perhaps because, from what we know of her life hitherto, that may more easily be imagined than described. Whilst fulfilling the parts of both sisters of Lazarus, she did not cease to envy John in the desert. Although the Holy Spirit had, through her prayers, made known to her many things, and although she continued still to be enlightened from above, yet she knew not what was written in the eternal decrees concerning herself, that Providence only put off to a better time the fulfilment of her thirst for solitude and for a cloistered life. Rita was intended to be an example to every age and condition; she should therefore live other lives before reaching the cloister she panted for.
CHAPTER VIII
RITA'S MARRIAGE
In the year 1393 Italy, not to say the whole world, was suffering under the evils that proceed from political disturbance, and the state of morals throughout the peninsula was deplorable. Still, the honour of the Church was upheld by the many saints whose lives then adorned it, not the least of whom was Rita. Urban VI. was dead, and Boniface IX. ruled in his place. But the Holy See had to withstand many a rude shock, for the anti-Pope Robert, then near his end, continued to dispute the possession of the Apostolic keys, and at his death left to his more impious successor, Pietro di Luna, his sad legacy of obstinate schism. Heresy, fanaticism,—religious and political—and the utmost corruption of morals were not wanting to fill the cup of Italy's woes.
The weak hands of the cruel and dissolute Wenceslaus still held the sceptre of the West, and John Paleologus, who had succeeded his father Emmanuel, could only weep over the impending ruin of his falling empire, that was shaken in every part by the infidel arms of the Sultan Bajazet. In Italy the rivalry of the different States, and, above all, the vaulting ambition of Gian Galeazzo Visconti, Lord of Milan, served to keep alive disunion, antagonism, and wretchedness. At this very time the republic of Cascia, which, since its revolt against the Holy See, had hardly enjoyed a moment of peace or prosperity, was in arms against the Guelphs of Cerreto, and had at the same time to prosecute a stubborn war against Aquila. In these contests the military portion of Cascia, by their deeds of violence, their robberies, and their atrocities, trampled on every law of humanity and modesty. It is true that hostilities came to an end in 1395, when terms of peace were agreed on; but warlike Cascia could not remain long at rest, but took up arms against Monte Reale in a new war, which lasted till 1397.
Whilst Cascia and the other States we have mentioned were seeking by iniquitous means to widen the borders of the kingdom of confusion and sin, Rita, in Rocca Porena, was meditating only how she could best please God, that, as the Apostle says, she might be holy in body and in spirit. The lurid picture of universal disorder rightly excited in her feelings of horror, and convinced her all the more of the vanity and cruelty of the world.
She saw the deceitful pleasures, the snares and thorns, the inevitable evils that show themselves at every step, and the dangers that at every moment threaten the soul with ruin. On the other hand, she perceived the great advantages that result from separating one's self from the world; she recalled all the spiritual joy and interior consolation she experienced during the time she lived in retirement in her home, and she therefore felt herself more firmly grounded in her determination to flee for ever from the tumult of worldlings. The solitude which formed the object of her desires, and in which she resolved to offer to God the holocaust of her virginity, was the convent of Cascia, where she afterwards lived and died, called at that time St. Mary Magdalen's, and occupied then, as well as now, by nuns of the Order of St. Augustine. This pious project had been for some time maturing in her mind, and although she was hardly twelve years of age she determined to carry it into effect without any of those wearisome delays which the grace of the Holy Spirit knows not of, which belong to certain weak and hesitating souls that cannot break the world's ties, or those of vain fear, when God calls them to a state of perfection. Although Rita then heard the call of her Divine Lover, she did not know the time He had fixed for the fulfilling of her wishes, but, overcome by a holy impatience, she resolved to make known to her parents her desire for a religious life. Who can tell what struggles the voice of nature must have caused in her soul at this crisis, as she thought that she was for ever about to separate herself from the side of her dearly loved and aged parents? Even the saints feel the strength of nature, but, like giants, they pass on to triumphs in the kingdom of grace. Thus Rita acted. She shut her ears to the insinuating voice of flesh and blood, informed her parents of her religious vocation, and humbly and fervently begged their leave to obey the voice of God. When they heard their daughter express such a wish, Antonio and Amata, pious though they were, did not hide their sorrow and the trouble they felt. They besought with tears that their only child, the one object of their tenderest love, their only prop and consolation, should not abandon them in their old age. Their tearful pleading, acting on the filial love and obedience which filled Rita's heart, prevailed on her to put off for a better time the fulfilment of her noble purpose. Being so far successful, her parents turned their attention to providing a husband for her, in order both to make sure of retaining her society and her assistance that had become necessary to them, and to save their family from extinction; and they fixed their eyes on a young man called, according to some, Ferdinand, and to others Paul. But old eyes do not always see clearly. The young man whom they selected was impulsive and irascible, with a character formed amid the savage surroundings of that time and place—in a word, he was well fitted to try the patience and virtue of Rita. He was proposed as a husband to the saintly girl, and all the weight of parental authority, and every motive that human nature could suggest, were adduced to win her consent. We do not know with what prayers and entreaties the distressed girl opposed the suggestion, but we do know that she showed the repugnance her soul felt. It was not, however, the disposition of her intended husband that made her hate the idea of marriage, for if the knowledge of it were hidden from her parents, it could scarcely be known to a young girl so fond of retirement. All Rita's aversion and complaining sprang from the fear of seeing closed to her the road that led to the conventual life to which she aspired, and the dread of having to dwell in the midst of an evil and destroying world, in which she would be plunged into the dangerous cares of married life. Seeing at last that her tears could not bend her parents to her wishes, and feeling somewhat shaken by considerations of filial piety and obedience, she had recourse in her hard trial to the Father of light. During her prayer she became conscious of an inspiration that told her to bend her neck to the yoke of matrimony, and thus understood that what she took to be a suggestion of paternal love, purely human and the voice of flesh and blood, was in reality a disposition of heaven. Resignation to the Divine will partly restored her peace of mind, and the consent to her marriage which she announced to her parents filled them with satisfaction. Rita gave her consent through an impulse of obedience, and since perfect obedience to the Divine will requires a holy blindness, she took no care to inquire about the fortune, appearance, or other qualities of her future husband. Rita was therefore in the first flower of her youth, her beauty, and virtue when, under the nuptial veil of her modesty, she stood before the altar to become a party to that indissoluble contract which Jesus Christ raised to the dignity of a Sacrament, and which gives children to the people of God. The relatives and friends on both sides were resolved to celebrate the nuptials with feastings, but the common joy did not reach the heart of the pious bride, for that was fixed on nobler objects. To the hour of her marriage Rita had been an excellent example to all virgins. In those few years she had given enough lessons to show how virginal candour and pure innocence should be preserved; she had now to follow another path to become a bright example of virtue to all who live in the married state.
CHAPTER IX
RITA AS WIFE
The Apostle's saying, that 'all things work together for good to those who love God,' remains always true. Rita had passed from the state of virginity to that of matrimony, yet this step towards a lower state was destined to lead her to a higher grade of glory. Thus St. Monica, whose faithful follower our heroine was ever to be, would not have been St. Augustine's mother by nature, and in the order of grace would not have drawn the erring Patrizio, her husband, to God, would not have so wide a field wherein to exercise her patience and fortitude, would not have left all those examples of virtue which her son Augustine admires and exalts in his book of 'Confessions,' if Divine Providence had not led her by that path which, long after, her daughter Rita followed.
The ways are diverse and diverse are the gifts, but the Spirit is the same which guides souls in a wonderful manner towards greater good. The way of tribulation was that which the Lord opened to our saint, and by the means of matrimony He wished her to pass through fire and water—in other words, through every sort of danger, temptation, and persecution, in order to prove and purify her, as gold is purified in the furnace, and thence to receive her into heaven as a most pure holocaust. Hence the God whose wish placed her in the married state so disposed it that she should pass from her original life of filial submission to that of slavery under a tyrannical husband. Thus it was that hardly had a few days passed after the marriage than her unworthy husband began to illtreat the innocent Rita with reproaches, abuse, threats, and even blows, of which the only cause was his own brutal inclination. But our gentle heroine had studied in the school of the Crucified One; she had already learned how to conquer her passions even to the extent of rejoicing in the midst of tribulation, for she was convinced that tribulation is the food of Christian patience, that penitence is the great proof of real virtue, and that on the exercise of it is based our priceless hope of eternal good that shall not fail us.
Yet because she was aware that not all who suffer are blessed, but only those who surfer for justice' sake, she took every care and tried every means to please her husband, whom nothing could satisfy. She waited on him, tried to discover his wants, sought to interpret his unspoken wishes, studied his temper—in a word, she did her utmost never to give him the least cause to complain, at least in everything in which her duty as a Christian permitted. She was well aware that a wife ought to regard her husband as a master to whom that obedience and reverential fear are due which the Church owes to her head, Christ Jesus. She not only knew, but practised it 111 a way that astonished all who were acquainted with the natural brutality of her husband and her own heroic submission, meekness, and invincible constancy. She obeyed his every beck, and undertook no duty without first seeking his approval. So far did she carry this submission that she did not go out of her house even to attend the Divine offices in church without having first obtained his permission. With all this the contest was a long one between the husband's cruelty and the wife's sweetness of temper, between his vicious nature and her virtue, between his pride and her humility, his ferocity and her meekness, his arrogance and her tractableness, between his power to give pain and her ability to surfer.
But the victory was gained by Rita's virtues, for her long-suffering at length won her husband's heart, and brought unity and love into their home. Whenever afterwards Ferdinand felt inclined, as he sometimes did, to have recourse to cutting words or unseemly acts, at the sight of her humility and patience, and the memory of her gentle admonitions, he adopted the expedient of going out of the house till his mind recovered its tranquillity. We read, too, that, completely overcome by her sweet gentleness, he one day threw himself at her feet to ask pardon from her for his faults and to promise to correct them. To the unspeakable consolation of Rita he kept this promise, nor was she slow to refer all the praise of this conversion to the Giver of all good things, who alone is Lord of the human heart. When fraternal correction is not the outcome of irritation or pride, it is an instrument of Divine grace, and we know that it has no other object than the salvation of him who is corrected when the word and manner which convey it are marked by moderation and kindness. Rita therefore brought into action all the graces, natural and supernatural, which she possessed, in order to bind closely to her that unquiet heart of her husband, and to draw him to the Lord, and induce him to fulfil his Christian obligations.
Two sons were born to them, the elder of whom was named Gian Giacomo, and the other Paolo Maria. Both of them inherited their father's quarrelsome and irascible temperament, and his example did not help to improve them. We may easily imagine the trouble, the watchfulness, the uneasiness, the fear, and anxiety which a devoted Christian mother like Rita must have experienced in rearing, educating, and, above all, in forming the minds of her young children. The words which she kept continually repeating in their ears, and which she would have wished to impress indelibly on their hearts, were words of the holy fear of God, of piety and devotion. But not so much with words did the pious mother endeavour to instil into them the pure maxims of the Gospel as by the example of her own exalted virtues. Would that fathers and mothers would learn once for all from the saints, and become convinced of the undeniable truth that their children are moulded more by their example than by their words, even when these are not contradicted by their deeds! Rita, however, in her vigilance spared nothing, neither words nor actions, nor advice nor blame, nor threats nor chastisements, to train these tender plants heavenwards; but their natural and more easy tendency was downwards, and this was her greatest cause of sorrow amongst so many causes, and the worst of all her troubles. We do not mean to say that Gian Giacomo and Paolo were like David's sons Amnon and Absolom, yet it is a fact that the children of holy people are sometimes self-willed and wicked, however holy their upbringing may have been. Rita, however, knew what a mother's duty was, and she therefore, in bringing up her children, never allowed her zeal to slacken, nor her patience to wear out, nor her watchfulness to grow weary.