Timna was concubine to Eliphaz, Esau’s son; and she bare to Eliphaz Amalek. Consequently the Israelites and the Amalekites were near of kin; they were sprung from the loins of one father, Isaac. This nation, consequently, which was bound by kindred to assist the Israelites, forgot its ties of blood, and fell upon them.

There is also a third reason for the annihilation of Amalek. It was the FIRST of all the nations to assault the chosen people, the first to fall upon them with the sword, the first to stop the way to the Promised Land. This was the final reason why Amalek was singled out for such overwhelming destruction that Balaam in prophecy could exclaim: Amalek was the first of the nations that warred against Israel (marg.), but his latter end shall be that he perish for ever. The children of Israel were in a critical position when encamped at Rephidim: they had just escaped from Egypt, and in a few days they might return thither if their hearts failed at the prospect of war. They had begun to sigh for the leeks, and the onions, and the flesh-pots of Egypt, and but little more was wanting to bring their discontent to a climax, and to send them back to their captivity. Amalek, being the first to attack them, set an example to other nations of the land, provoking Midianite, Moabite, and Amorite to regard the chosen people of God as enemies instead of treating them as wayfarers, to impede their progress instead of opening to them a passage.

Applicatio. From this learn, Christian soul, that if God chose to annihilate this people because it hindered the chosen race in its progress to the Land of Promise, because it opposed this people which it was bound by relationship to assist, because it was the first to do so, thereby encouraging others to stand against it—then great indeed will be God’s wrath with you, if you prevent others from reaching the Heavenly Canaan, they being members of the same spiritual family, and you being the one to encourage others to destroy the souls for which Christ died.

Let infidel, heathen, and heretic persecute, their guilt is tolerable compared to yours; if you lead from the paths of righteousness, and you be the first so to lead astray, one who is of the same household of Faith, a brother, a relation, one redeemed by Christ’s blood, a member of the same mystical body, of the same Church—think what you are thereby doing! Christ, the true Moses, is leading His people from the Egypt of sin, through the wilderness of this world, into the country of everlasting felicity. And what are you doing? Barring the passage to God’s people, undoing the work of Christ, setting at nought the blood of the covenant. Terrible will be the condemnation of those who act thus!

De Barzia, after having appealed earnestly to the consciences of his hearers, and urged them to examine themselves whether they have ever put an occasion of falling in their brother’s way, bursts into a magnificent piece of irony. He says that he hears the excuse made,—“Come, now! persecution is a strong term, unjustifiably strong; I never persecuted any one for leading a holy life: I may have teased So-and-so, but that is all; just teased him in joke, you understand.” In joke! a joke more ruinous than the worst cruelty of a persecutor. A joke! Ah, ha! a right merry joke, a capital joke, indeed! Go, cut the pipes which bring water into this city—only in joke, of course—cut the pipes, then, and watch the result. Such a joke! the fountains fail, the mills cease working, the gardens are parched up, men and beasts perish through thirst. Oh, magnificent joke!

This the Bishop applies with all his vehemence and fire. He then continues by reference to the old law: Life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe. If a man smote another with a stone and injured him, by the law of Moses he was bound to pay for the cure of the injured man, and also for the loss of time. By which is signified, that if any one by evil example, or bad advice, cause spiritual sickness in another, he must atone for that, suffering for the sins which he has led his brother to commit.

Epilogus. Woe to such an one on the last great day, when the Judge says, “See, impious man, this child was waxing strong in spirit, filled with wisdom, and the grace of God was upon him, but you by your sneers and ridicule, by your jests and scoffs, turned him aside from the path of My commandments into the way of death. You have made My labours for that poor soul in vain; come now, make recompense for all that you have done,” and He shall deliver him to the tormentors till he have paid the debt.

At the risk of wearying the reader, I shall give in outline a specimen of one of De Barzia’s Saints’-day sermons, and I select the third for the festival of St. John the Divine.

Text, John xxi.—What is that to thee?

Introduction. Although our Lord promised to His disciples that they should have whatsoever they asked, yet He made the condition—If ye abide in Me. Wherefore? Judas had at this time gone out, so that those to whom the promise was made were certain to abide in Christ; and He in His foreknowledge knew that of the eleven all would remain constant till death. But Jesus spake not out of His omniscience as God, but out of care for the eleven, lest they should be elated and puffed up with spiritual pride, knowing that they were ordained to eternal life. Christ spoke conditionally, so as to teach them fear and anxiety for themselves, and in order to keep them humble.

Subject. The uncertainty in which we are as to our future condition is salutary; for it keeps us on the watch, it makes us cautious and anxious about our salvation.

Confirmation. When Jacob fled from Laban, he was pursued by his father-in-law, who had lost his household gods which Rebecca had stolen. Laban charged Jacob with the theft, and Jacob bore the charge with patience, and without resentment. But after that Laban had searched through the goods of his son-in-law, but found them not. And then, but not till then, Jacob was wroth and chode with Laban. (Gen. xxxi. 36.) How was this? At first Jacob was full of meekness, but now he is wroth. Oleaster gives the reason, he says: “At first Jacob knew not whether the idols were amongst his stuff or not, but now, the moment that he feels himself secure, his anger breaks forth against Laban for having accused him of the theft. As long as he was afraid lest the idols should be found, he was silent; but when they were not found, then he became bold.” And which of you, Christian souls, knows whether some idols may not be secreted in the dark corners of your hearts, some secret sins buried deep in your bosoms? No man knoweth. Wonderful is the providence of God which leaves us ignorant as to our final condition, so as to keep us humble. But suppose now, O man! that you were assured of your final acceptance, satisfied that there was no idol hidden in the depths of your heart, would you not be filled with pride as was Jacob, would you not break forth into words of contempt for those who are not so sure?

Epilogue. Thanks be to Thee, O infinite God, for Thy great mercy in having veiled Thy final judgment from our eyes, so that every one is rendered fearful lest he should miss the prize of his high calling, and fail to reach the crown for which he is now striving. For Thou hast concealed it solely for our good: yet is our future state foreknown to Thee; and Thou wouldst have us serve Thee not for the hope of reward, or for the fear of torment, but from love: and Thou art worthy to be loved and served though there were no future glory, no future hell.

JACQUES MARCHANT.

Although the subject of this notice was well known in his own day as an eloquent preacher, his sermons, with few exceptions, have not come to us in their original condition, and Marchant is known now chiefly as a dogmatic and moral theologian. His great work, the Hortus Pastorum, contains the notes of his sermons and catechetical instructions, as we know from his own account; and he published them in a compendious form, that they might serve the like purpose to other preachers. The Hortus Pastorum differs widely from the Dictionaries and Libraries of Predication, which issued from the press at the close of the Middle Ages; for they contained crude extracts from the Fathers and from Mediæval expositors of Holy Scripture, without any attempt being made at digesting them into a form ready for delivery, whereas each proposition of Marchant might be pronounced from the pulpit verbatim, and indeed possesses all the ring of a popular sermon.

Jacques Marchant flourished in the Low Countries at the beginning of the seventeenth century. He had the good fortune to sit at the feet of Cornelius à Lapide, when that great man taught at Louvain, a circumstance fully appreciated by Marchant, and referred to by him with thankfulness in his preface.

He was appointed Professor of Theology in the Benedictine monastery of Floreffe, which had been founded in 1121 by Godfrey Count of Namur, and he seems to have looked back in his later life with firm attachment to his cloister life in that picturesque and venerable abbey above the gliding Sambre. He was afterwards removed to the more famous monastery of Lobes, which had sent forth so many great men in the Middle Ages, and there he contracted a lasting intimacy with Raphael Baccart, afterwards its abbot.

Marchant was next transferred to the town of Couvin, to the church of which he became pastor and dean.

Jacques Marchant wrote his work, “The Garden of Pastors,” at the instigation of his brother Peter, a Franciscan, at one time Commissary and Visitor-General of the Province of Britain, and afterwards Provincial of that of Flanders.

The Dean of Couvin was a man of very remarkable refinement of taste. His mind was eminently poetic, and there is not a subject which he touched, over which he has not cast a gleam of beauty. He handles his matter with the utmost tenderness, yet he holds it with the firm grasp of a theologian.

The glow of his fervent piety irradiates every page of his writings, and invests them with that peculiar charm which attaches to the works of the great mystic and spiritual writers of an earlier age. He is full of holy reverence and godly fear: with him there is none of that offensive trifling with sacred matters, none of that profane prying into solemn mysteries, which disgraced certain of the earlier preachers, who were only eager to exhibit themselves as well versed in the subtleties of the schools.

Marchant never approaches a sacred subject but with veiled face and the bow of reverence; never does he degenerate into buffoonery; “The wise man doth scarcely smile a little,”—and the smile of our author is inexpressibly sweet.

If St. Thomas Aquinas is to theology what Michael Angelo was to art, then Jacques Marchant may take his place beside Angelico of Fiesole.

And perhaps the reason of this spirituality is, that the Dean drew from the purest wells of living water, instead of letting down his pitcher in the polluted cisterns of a pagan antiquity. Profoundly learned he was not; his knowledge of the classics was but limited;—but he was well versed in the writings of the great Christian Fathers, and well trained in the science of the Saints.

His pure and loving spirit seems to have panted, like the hart, for the water-brooks of Divine wisdom, and to have turned instinctively from the dry and sterile land whither the men of his day were bending their steps. Yes; he left the satyr to dance in the desolate ruins of the olden world, that he might lie down in the green pastures of the Christian faith.

It is certainly remarkable that, whereas in his day men affected to quote the classic writers of Rome and Greece, and the study of these authors was reviving, Marchant passes them almost completely over[4]. The catalogue of his library I give, as it would be hard to find one more judiciously selected.

His commentators on Holy Scripture, in addition to the Fathers, are Jansenius, Titelmann, Jansonius Baradius, Viegas, Salasas, Ribera, and Cornelius à Lapide. His theological writers, after the great Thomas and Cajetan, are Bellarmin, Suarez, Clarius, Torres, and Malderus. The preachers whom he consults are Pepin, Louis of Granada, Diez, Stella, Vega, Iachinus, Stapleton, Osorius, Valderama[5], Coster, Labata, and Carthagena.

His spiritual authors are Thomas à Kempis, Blosius, Harphius, Platus, Aponte, Sales, Salo, Solutivo, Roderiguez, Bruno, and Baldesanus.

His catechetical writers are Canisius, Somnius, Fœlisius, Nider, Bayus, and Claude Thuet.

“And although,” says Marchant, “I may have amassed stones, wood, and mortar from other sources than my own field or quarry, in order that I might erect this edifice, yet do not deny it to be mine, for it is according to my own scheme; mine is the labour, mine the skill, mine the hand which erected, disposed, and consummated it. No one surely will deny that the garden is his who possesses, digs, cultivates, arranges, and adorns it, though he may have brought from elsewhere some seeds, herbs, fruit-trees, and flowers, which by pruning, lopping, and transplanting, he may have sown or planted there. However, it is little to have sown, planted, watered, and cultivated, unless there be increase and fruit produced, all which comes, not of human skill, but of God alone.

“I say, then, that the garden is not mine, but His who worketh all in all, to whom I commend and reconsecrate it with my whole heart, that He may give it increase. And do thou use it happily, and pray for me. Farewell.”

The Hortus Pastorum consists of four books; the first treats of Faith, the second of Hope, the third of Charity, the fourth of Justice—the four great streams springing from one source which water the Eden of the Church.

Under the head of Faith, Marchant expounds the Apostles’ Creed in seventeen tracts, each containing several propositions and lections.

Under the head of Hope, he discusses prayer, and especially the Lord’s Prayer and the Angelic Salutation. In this book are five tracts.

Under the head of Charity, Marchant treats of the Commandments, in four tracts.

The fourth book of the Hortus Pastorum has a separate title, the Tuba Sacerdotalis, or the sevenfold blast of the priestly trumpet laying low the walls of Jericho.

These walls of the city of palms are, according to Marchant, the seven deadly sins, which he accordingly treats of in seven tracts, each containing from nine to ten lections.

In addition to the Hortus Pastorum and the Tuba Sacerdotalis, Marchant is the author of other works, a list of which follows, together with the list of the different editions of the Hortus.

Hortus Pastorum; Parisiis, Soly. fol., 1638.

Do. do. 1651.

Do. do. Josse, fol., 1661.

Do. Coloniæ, 4to., 1643.

Do. nova editio curante M. Alix; Lugduni, fol., 1742.

Candelabrum Mysticum; Montibus, 4to., 1630.

Do. cum Horto; Parisiis, fol., 1638.

Do. do. do. 1651.

Do. do. do. 4to., 1696.

Vitis florigera de palmitibus, etc.; Parisiis, fol., 1646.

Triomphe de St. Jean Baptiste; Mons, 12mo., 1645.

Opuscula pastoralia; Parisiis, 4to., 1643.

Resolutiones pastorales; Coloniæ, 18mo., 1655.

Do. cum Horto, q. v.

Quadriga Mariæ Augustæ; Montibus, 8vo., 1648.

Conciones funebres; Coloniæ, 2 vols. 4to., 1642.

Do. do. 1652.

Rationale Evangelizantium, in quo doctrina et veritas evangelica sacerdotibus ad pectus appendenda. Acc. Vitis florigera. Ed. quinta opusculis part. &c. Coloniæ, 3 vol. in uno, 4to., 1682.

The funeral orations are hardly likely to be much read now, but the sermons on the Saints, published under the title of Vitis florigera, are of value; they give an outline of the life of each Saint, and a moral application of the lesson inculcated by the Church in the appointment of the festival. The Resolutiones pastorales will be found exceedingly useful, as it contains solutions of many difficulties which are likely to beset a parish priest. The Candelabrum Mysticum is a very important and useful practical exposition of the Sacraments, and the Virga Aaronis florens, which is generally bound up with the Hortus, is an admirable directory of priestly life, containing godly admonitions and advice, under five heads and thirteen lections, each lection representing a blossom on Aaron’s rod, or a perfection in the sacerdotal life to which every priest should labour to attain. At the end of this work there is an interesting account of the introduction and founding of a congregation of St. Charles Boromeo (oblates), in the diocese of Leyden, by the joint efforts of Marchant and his friends Stephen Strecheus, Suffragan of Leyden, and John à Chokier, Vicar-General. This congregation is a society of secular Clergy constituted on much the same principles as the Societies of the Oratorians and St. Philip Neri. At this time, when associations for the advancement of spiritual life are being formed in our own branch of the Church, it would be well to consider whether the rules of St. Charles might not be taken and adapted to our modern exigencies, and so the congregation of oblates be revived amongst ourselves.

But to return to the Shepherd’s Garden.

As a specimen of the manner in which Jacques Marchant expounds a doctrine, I will give in outline his exposition of the eleventh Article of the Creed—“The Resurrection of the Body.”

Lection I. On the resurrection of the dead.

Lection II. Of the identity of the risen with the present body.

Lection III. The circumstances of the resurrection.

I confess to feeling quite at a loss what to select as a specimen of Marchant’s refined and beautiful writing. Every page contains beauties, and it is hard to choose among them.

The following is very tender. After quoting the text, My beloved is white and ruddy, the chiefest among ten thousand (Cant. v. 10), he breaks forth into the following passage: “White is my Beloved in His purity and His innocence, but ruddy in His burning charity, through which He shed His blood. White is He in His nativity, girded about with virgin flesh, but ruddy in His circumcision, sprinkled with His gore. White at the transfiguration, in His glistering raiment, ruddy on the Mount of Olives, bleeding in His sweat. White is He in the palace of Herod, dressed in the white robe, ruddy in that of Pilate in the purple garment. White upon the Cross, in the water which flowed from His side, but ruddy, bathed wholly in His Blood. White is He in the Sacrament, under the species of bread, ruddy under the veil of wine. White in His mercy, ruddy in His justice; white in His Body mystical, in the virgins, but ruddy in the purpled martyrs.” (114.)

“He is the chiefest among ten thousand, through His passion exalted above all creatures and above all glory of the elect.

“The chiefest among ten thousand, as leader of His people Israel to the Promised Land, by the pillar, the rod, and the Red Sea; the pillar, forsooth, at which He was scourged, the rod of His Cross, and the Red Sea of His Blood.

“The chiefest among ten thousand, as the great High Priest entering into the holiest of all with His own blood.

“The chiefest among ten thousand, as the Mediator between God and man, ever presenting before the Father those wounds by which He was constituted Mediator.

“The chiefest among ten thousand, as the Shepherd of either fold, that of Jew and that of Gentile; by the pastoral staff of His Cross reducing them into one fold under one Shepherd.

“The chiefest among ten thousand, as Head of the militant and triumphant Church.

“The chiefest among ten thousand, as Head and King of angels and men, of both making one society, one kingdom.

“The chiefest among ten thousand, as the Judge of living and dead.” (110.)

I make no apology for translating, almost entire, the following exquisite passage on the wound in our Lord’s side, so redolent with spiritual fragrance, so rapturous in heavenly ardour:—

“Not only ought the dove to dwell in the clefts of the rock, but she should also flee to the cavernam maceriæ (English vers., ‘secret places of the stairs’): that is, the wound in the side.… There make thy nest, and enter, O dove! therein lurk many mysteries: for why was that side opened?

“First, that thou mightest enter the ark with the olive-bough, the symbol of peace. Lo! Christ is the ark, and the wound in His side is the window of the ark through which thou mayest enter; for as the dove found not rest for the sole of her foot, so dost thou wander in vain with the raven, and wheel around the corpses of this world; thou canst not find thy rest, save in the heart of thy Saviour. There has He chosen to build thee a home; there, in that heart burning with love, to plant thee a flowery Paradise, in which thou mayest delight, and exclaim, It is good for us to be here. ‘How good!’ says Bernard, ‘how good to dwell in that heart, in that dug field!’ O Lord, Thy heart is a good treasure, for which I will surrender all my fancies, all the desires of my mind. I will acquire it for myself, casting all my thoughts into Thy heart; and I will worship toward this ark of the covenant, and praise the name of the Lord.…

“If then at any time thou feelest want and lukewarmness, or dryness, then turn thy heart to the Lord, turn to the heart of thy Lord; seek it on the cross, His couch of love. There wilt thou find the way to His very heart open; by that broad gate of His side, by that door of piety, thou mayest enter. There join heart to heart, that thou mayest become partaker of light, of life, of flame, and of that peace which He shall speak unto His people, and to His saints, that they turn not again.

“Secondly, He chose that His side should be opened, because to the Redeemer it was not enough that His whole body was bloody with the rods, that His hands and feet were purpled by the nails, but He desired to shed forth, by the spear, as token of His unbounded love, that blood which still lingered about the heart, and which neither thorns nor scourge had extracted. Wherefore He was wounded, not so much by the spear, as by love, or if you prefer it, by both the lance and love. Whence it is said twice, Thou hast wounded My heart, My sister, My spouse; thou hast wounded My heart! And do thou reply, ‘Wound Thou my heart, my Bridegroom; wound Thou my heart! wound it with compassion, wound it with love; with these twin arrows from Thy bow pierce through my heart. Twice did Moses smite the rock, twice do Thou smite this stony heart, that from it may stream, if not blood, yet bitter tears.’

“Thirdly, He chose to show us the place of our regeneration. Hence there flowed forth both water and blood, signs of Baptism and the Eucharist, which regenerate us to God. And thus is it said, Thy daughters shall be nursed at Thy side (Isa. lx. 4), O Christ! for Thou regeneratest us by the blood and water streaming from Thy side.

“Fourthly, consider that, although the lance gave no pain to the Saviour, yet was it keen, for it wounded with cruel pang the heart of the Mother. For her heart was bound up with the heart of her Son; and to this the prophet seems to refer when he says, Supra dolorem vulnerum meorum addiderunt. (Ps. lxix. 27.) But in conclusion, I repeat—Arise, O dove! enter in, O love! for here is the door by which thou shalt pass to the marriage-feast of thy Bridegroom; for here is the window of love which desires to enkindle thee also; for here is the furnace streaming forth with mercy. Gathering together all thy evil affections, thy sins, thy negligences, cast them into that furnace of love, that there they may be consumed. There exclaim with Thomas, My Lord, and my God! and with the Psalmist, This shall be my rest for ever; here will I dwell, for I have a delight therein. For there is the place to live, there is the place to die.”

In like manner does Marchant exclaim: “Spare, O cruel nails, O spare those sacred feet, which have never walked in the way of sinners. Come rather and pierce my heart; pierce my hard heart with the piercing of penitence, that ye may draw from it the salty tears of contrition; for, from the time when ye were sprinkled with the Saviour’s blood, ye have had power to heal the wounds of the mind.

“Yet would not the Saviour spare Himself these nails, that He might make satisfaction for all offences committed by our feet walking in the way of sinners, when we went astray like the lost sheep; and that He might merit by this price and these pangs to guide our feet into the way of peace.

“It was not sufficient for Him to have endured so much labour, sweat, and weariness, whilst seeking His wandering sheep; but He desired also that His feet should at length be pierced, not with the thorns only, but also with the nails.”

On the words, He stood in the midst of them, he remarks: “There then were the disciples gathered in terror, in error, all had lost their faith, all wavered, doubting of the resurrection. All, the Virgin excepted, had lost the light of faith, as is represented by the Church in her Office for Holy Week (i. e. Tenebræ), when fifteen candles are extinguished, one alone being excepted and allowed to remain alight. This indicates the eleven Apostles with the three women losing the light of faith, which remained in the Virgin alone, of whom it might truly be said, Her candle goeth not out by night. These, then, being gathered together, Christ was present in the midst, though the doors were shut; for just as He issued from the Virgin’s womb leaving her still virgin, as He passed through the unmoved stone of the sepulchre, so now did He enter to His disciples without impediment, for nothing can hinder the transit of a glorious body: He stood in the midst of them! Stood as a pastor in the midst of his flock, gathering them to him; as a leader in the midst of his soldiers, encouraging them; as the sun in the midst of the stars, illumining them; as the heart in the midst of the body, vivifying it; as the tree of life in the midst of Paradise amongst the elect trees; as the candlestick in the midst of the house, lighting it and dispelling its gloom; as the column in the midst of the building, sustaining it.

“And this word stood has its special significance, denoting the resurrection. For before the resurrection, when He bore the burden of our sins, He is described as at one time lying in the manger, at another as seated weary by the well, and then as prostrate with His face to the earth praying, upon the mountain, or as bowed down and crying to the Father in the garden, or again as stooping under the weight of the cross as He ascended Calvary, whilst on the cross itself He is spoken of as bowing His head to give up the ghost. All which attitudes of the body denote the weight of our sins with which He was burdened. But now, that burden is shaken off in His resurrection, for He has drowned it in the abyss of His blood, and so rightly is He spoken of as standing in the midst.”

Jacques Marchant thus paraphrases the 110th Psalm: “At the ascension it was said unto Him, Sit Thou on My right hand, until I make Thine enemies Thy footstool. That is, Do Thou, who art exalted above all creatures, share with Me My kingdom until all Thine enemies are subjected unto Thee, till the kingdom of the predestinate is filled, and Thy victory has attained to its perfection. And here by the fulfilling of the kingdom of predestination, and the conquering of foes, and the extension of empire, this is signified, that in the consummation of the age, He will return again into the world, that the subjection of every thing to Him may be made manifest in all the world. Wherefore the Psalmist adds, The Lord shall send the rod of Thy power out of Sion: be Thou ruler, even in the midst among Thine enemies. That is, the sceptre of Thy royal power, the sceptre of strength, shalt Thou begin to extend and pass on from the city and mount of Sion, even unto the ends of the earth, by Thy Apostolic messengers; so that Thou mayest rule even in the midst of Thy enemies and false brethren, Jews, heathen, and heretics. In the end of the age, however, Thy kingdom will be exalted perfectly over Thine enemies, when Thou shalt send forth the sceptre of virtue, the banner of Thy cross out of the Heavenly Sion, that Thy foes may be entirely subjected beneath Thy feet. Then he adds: In the day of Thy power shall the people offer Thee freewill offerings with an holy worship, when the kingdom will be Thine, and Thine the only principality.” The Vulgate varies so much from our English Version in this third verse, that Marchant’s paraphrase cannot apply to it, and I shall therefore pass on to the fifth verse: “The Lord upon Thy right hand shall wound even kings in the day of His wrath. Christ our Lord sitting at Thy right hand shall break all the power of kings who have persecuted the Church. Then shall the Neroes, Maximinians, and Deciuses be thrust down into hell. He shall judge among the heathen; He shall fill the places with the dead bodies: He shall then exercise judgment over all nations, and, having condemned the wicked, shall perfect and consummate their last extermination. Then shall the places of hell be filled with impious men, and with devils thrust down thither and there enclosed; and that because He shall smite in sunder the heads over divers countries, breaking down the proud, and bringing them into confusion before all the world.

“And would you know why He is given such power to judge the nations and trample upon kings and haughty men? He shall drink of the brook in the way: therefore shall He lift up His head. Because, forsooth, in this way and mortal life, which glides by as a brook, He drank the turbid water, bearing our infirmities, by His Passion descending into the very depths of the stream; therefore, because of this so great humility, hath God highly exalted Him, making Him the Judge of all.

“If indeed in His first Advent it was cried, Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord; Hosanna in the highest! how much more in that His second triumphal coming will it be cried by angels, by the elect, by kings, by priests, by people, by children, ay! by all creatures, Let the Heavens rejoice, and let the earth be glad: let the sea make a noise, and all that therein is. Let the field be joyful, and all that is in it; then shall all the trees of the wood rejoice before the Lord, for He cometh, for He cometh, to judge the earth.

“We too, considering that time of triumph, shall exclaim to our King and Saviour with glad accord, ‘Reign even in the midst among Thine enemies! Reign, Thou Son of David, setting up Thy throne above all monarchs! Reign, Thou peaceful King, trampling under foot all the kingdom of Satan! Reign, Thou Son of Mary, in the midst of heretics and blasphemers! Reign, Thou Galilæan, in the midst of infidels once rebels! Reign, Thou Nazarene, in the midst of Julians and persecutors! Reign, Thou innocent Lamb, in the midst of ravening wolves! Reign, Thou Lamb which was slain, in the midst of angels and all the elect!’ I heard the voice of many angels round about the throne and the beasts and the elders, saying with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing. And every creature which is in Heaven, and on earth, and under the earth, and such as are in the sea, and all that are in them, heard I saying, Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever.”

JOHN OSORIUS.

John Osorius, a Spaniard of the diocese of Burgos, entered the novitiate of the Society of Jesus in 1558, at the early age of sixteen. He taught moral theology, but gave himself up more especially to preaching, his talents in that line soon manifesting themselves. He preached often before the Court, and was selected to deliver orations on various public occasions. For instance, he preached twice at the fitting out of the Armada, and again on its discomfiture. His three sermons, entitled Cum nostri redirent ab Anglia re infecta, will be found in the fourth volume of his collected sermons. He was select preacher on the anniversary of the death of St. Ignatius Loyola, the founder of his order, and also on the occasion of the death of the king. He died at Medina, aged fifty-two, in the year 1594.

His sermons have been published several times.

Concionum Joannes Osorii; Antverpiæ, 1594-5, 3 vols. 8vo. Ibid., 5 vols., 1597, 8vo.

Concionum J. Osorii; Colon. Hierat. 1600, 12mo., 5 vols.; Lugduni, Pillehotte, 1601, 8vo.; Venetiis, 1601, fol.; Parisiis, M. Sonnium, 1601, 8vo., 5 vols.; Venetiis, 1604, 4to., 5 vols.; Monast. Westphaliæ, 1622, 8vo. 5 vols.

R. P. Osorii Concionum Epitome; Colon., 1602, 8vo., 3 vols.; De Sanctis, ibid., 1613, 8vo.

John Osorius was a preacher of a high order. He was eminently Scriptural, and thoroughly practical. He neither wasted his efforts on the discussion of profitless school questions, nor wearied his hearers by abstruse disquisitions on points of Canon law. His matter is always solid, and his method sound and clear. A man of refined taste and lively imagination, he could render his discourses attractive to both educated and uneducated. He seldom breaks into a torrent of eloquence, like De Barzia, but his style is polished and graceful. He had none of the fire of the Bishop of Cadiz, but in his heart burned the pure flame of a tempered zeal, not raging forth as a furnace, dazzling and scorching all around, but calmly glowing in unruffled peace, unnoticed perhaps in the glare of day, but steadily beaming as a guiding star to the wanderer in the night.

In one point he certainly resembles his countryman De Barzia, viz. in his accurate Biblical knowledge. But the use he made of Scripture was different to that made by the Bishop, as his audience was very different from that to which the Prelate addressed his Mission Sermons. Holy Scripture was the spiritual food of this Jesuit preacher, and his discourses prove his intimate acquaintance with every portion of God’s Word. His discourses do not contain, as do so many modern sermons, crude and undigested lumps of Scripture, clumsily pieced and awkwardly inserted to distend the dull oration to its conventional limits, but the words of Inspiration float lightly and fragrantly on the stream of simple eloquence, as strands of new-mown grass and cut meadow flowers on the calm brook which softly glides past the field where the mowers mow the hay.

If De Barzia roused long-dead consciences, waking them from their sepulchres with note like a trumpet, bringing them forth bound hand and foot in the corpse-clothes of evil habits, and delivering them over to the confessors to be loosed and let go, Osorius quickened the consciences but just dead, with still small voice, taking them as it were by the hand and lifting them up with tenderness, that he might restore them to their parents—to their God, who was to them a Father, to the Church, which was to them a Mother.

But with all these rare merits, Osorius had his defects. His sermons are wanting in arrangement and in unity of design. He preached on the Gospel for the day, and aimed rather at giving a running commentary on the selected passage of Scripture, than at elaborating one text and concentrating his powers upon its application. Hence, each of his sermons, which are very long, may well be broken into six or eight short discourses with separate points, but when preached in their entirety the effect is that of a surfeit. Nothing can be better than the food he provides, but it is in too great abundance, and it is too varied; briefly, in his sermons there is what the French call an embarras de richesses.

There is this excuse to be made for Osorius, that he did but follow in the wake of the Patristic and Mediæval preachers, whose public orations consisted almost invariably of Scripture expositions, partaking more of the character of our modern Bible-class lectures than our set sermons; and it was only bold men like De Barzia, who set all conventionalities at defiance, that originated the class of sermon now recognized as the normal type of a pulpit discourse. Osorius, however, could divest himself of the trammels of custom when he chose, and he has left some notable specimens of sermons which have but one point and subject, in his fourth volume; and I very much question whether any more noble and more vigorous have ever been composed than those written by John Osorius, the Jesuit, on the Four Last Things, the Three Foes of Man, and the Seven Last Words.

Osorius seldom relates anecdotes, and his sermons are almost entirely free from those stories which preachers of his age delighted in introducing to illustrate their subjects; but, in their place, he brings forward similes to an extraordinary extent. His sermons are studded with them, and his similes are almost invariably graceful and neat. It may be questioned whether he does not somewhat overdo it, when one sermon contains fifteen similes. Yet these are so beautiful that we could ill spare one. Perhaps we are too critical in requiring all sermons to be cut to the same shape; perhaps the beauty of the wood hyacinth may consist in the multitude of its azure bells, and the splendour of the tulip would be lost if it grew in a bunch.

But the reader shall judge for himself. I will give him a string of similes from the Trinity sermons of Osorius.

“Aristotle says that as the sun, most visible in itself, cannot be contemplated without difficulty by our eyes, on account of their weakness; so God, of supreme entity and perfection, can hardly be grasped by us, through the imperfection of our intellect.”

“When my father and mother forsake me, the Lord taketh me up, says the Psalmist; and Israel exclaimed, Make us gods to go before us. For without God we have not power to advance. What will he say to this, who enters on a state of life without God to lead him, who undertakes hard matters forgetful of God? As the ivy trails along the earth when it finds not a tree, to which it may cling and by which it may ascend, so does the soul lie prostrate till it has found God, to whom it may cling as to its beloved; and having found Him, by Him ascend, going on from grace to grace.”

“The Heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth His handiwork: they all point wondrously to their Creator, showing themselves to be creatures fashioned by His hands.

“Cicero observes: If when travelling you came suddenly in a desert upon some magnificent palace, such as that of Solomon, and were to ask how it came thither, and the answer were made that a mountain had fallen, and that its ruins had shaped themselves, somehow, into this great mansion, you would laugh them to scorn who asserted this, for the house shows plainly the handiwork of an artificer—and that he was a famous artificer to boot—who thus ranged all in such perfect order, and this, you would say, was self-evident. So, too, he who considers the workmanship of this world with attention,—the garden of earth, the abyss of sea, the heavens wondrously adorned, the variety of stars, their varied and yet harmonious motions,—he will say that it is manifest that some master artificer has arranged them, and that their conjunction cannot be fortuitous.”

“Look first at the beauteous image of the soul, and gather from it that it has a divine artificer. If you saw a boy holding a charming image in his hand, and you asked him, Whose is this image? who fashioned it? if he were to reply, I made it; you would at once say, That is not true, for it is a masterpiece of art. So, too, the wondrous power of our souls, and their wondrous perfection, point to a Heavenly artificer.”

“Who, then, is God? He is One and Three: one in nature, one in wisdom, one in goodness; but three in Person: Three Persons but One God, one wise, one powerful, one good.

“How then three Persons and not three Gods? I and thou are two persons, but one in nature and species.

“How two persons with one nature? Because in me there is that which is not in thee, and this constitutes difference in personality.

“But thou sayest, What is there in the Father which is not in the Son?

“That thou mayest understand, take this illustration.

“I have invented a science, entirely of myself; this science I teach thee; thou and I communicate it to a third. The same science is in all three; one of us knows nothing which the other knows not; one knows as much as all the three. Yet is there this difference between us, I have the knowledge of myself, having received it of none; in thee it is derived from me; in the third it proceeds from thee and me. Now suppose that, instead of a science, this were my nature which I gave to thee, and which we two communicated to the third; then should we three be one in nature, and yet with the diversity I have specified.

“Thus, as I have said, is it with our God, in whom it is the same to be, to know, to be able, &c. This wisdom and nature is in the Father self-derived, received of none. It is in the Son also, the same, but received by intelligence from the Father. It is in the Holy Ghost, but proceeding from the Father and the Son by love: therefore the Persons are three, but there are not three Gods nor three Lords, for the nature, and the wisdom, and the power, and the goodness are one, but in three Persons; therefore there is but one God, one Lord, one Wise.”

“God is the abyss of being, as signifies His name Jehovah; in Him are all perfections, of which perfections each is infinite, all are One. What then is my God? Ask every creature, and let them show you their God, and tell you what He is; not that each can declare Him perfectly, but each in part. Does it not happen to you sometimes, as you walk abroad, that you light upon a brook, and say, I will trace it to its source, and see whence this streamlet flows? Do you now act thus, and you will attain to your God. Mark what is good in the creatures you behold, in the song of birds, in the beauty of flowers, in the wealth of metals, in the sweetness of meats; these are but rills proceeding from God the abounding Fount; all these utter the things which are in God; for all creatures are but voices manifesting Him.”

Yet we must not rest in them. “It has happened that painters have pictured fruit with such accuracy that birds have come out of the sky thinking them real, in order to feed upon them; but finding them to be painted, and that there is no food in them, they fly away to seek their true sustenance. The Divine painter has traced with His brush in His creatures the beauties which live in Himself, and in them they seem to live. Yet are they but figures, not verities, for the fashion of this world passeth away. Would you know how to act, knowing that these are but pictures and not realities? Act as the bird, which finding no food in the painting seeks its real meat elsewhere. Mark this, you will find in creation no true food, no satiety, no repose; mark this and fly away to your God, He is very good, He is true food, in Him alone is repose.”

“When you hear sweet harmony, you say, I hear musicians, though you see them not; so seeing the harmony of creation, acknowledge God its source. In God are all perfections. Take the opal. Look at it fixedly from one point; it is white as snow, and you see nought save whiteness in it. Turn a little aside; it flashes out in flames as a carbuncle. Look from another point, it glows a rich crimson as the ruby; again, from another point it is all green as the emerald. Lo! you have an image of God, that most precious gem, to win which we must sell all we have. He is one, yet manifold. Moses beheld God, and He was to him like to the carbuncle, a burning fire: The Lord thy God is a consuming fire. That same God did David behold: The Lord is full of compassion and mercy: long-suffering and of great goodness. To him then was He not all white? Isaiah beheld him: Wherefore art Thou red in Thine apparel? and seeing Him executing vengeance, He was like to the ruby. John beheld Him, and a rainbow round about the throne, in sight like unto an emerald. Lo! what variety, and yet what unity!”

One of the most curious ideas of Osorius is the following. He says that as he lies in bed he hears the stroke, stroke, of his heart; and it sounds to him as though within were two wood-cutters engaged night and day in hewing down a tree. Nor am I wrong in thinking so, he continues, for Flux and Reflux are engaged every hour in laying their axes to the root of the tree of life. In another sermon he speaks of men fretting over the loss of worldly goods and neglecting their eternal inheritance as resembling the little boy who has built a mud castle, and who weeps when a passer-by overthrows it with his foot, though he cares nothing that a lawsuit is going on at the time by which a large inheritance is being wrested from him.

The following is singularly beautiful, to my mind. Osorius is speaking of the dower Christ has given to His Church. He says, that as when a traveller marries a wife in a far country he gives her a few presents, but says to her, O my beloved, when we come home to my own country, where all my wealth and property are, then you shall have ten thousand times better presents; so does Christ act with His Church. Here, in the far country of this earth, He gives her a few gifts and graces, but when He leads her home to His heavenly habitation, He will crown her with endless glory.

On the subject of the Ascension, he observes, very gracefully, that when a fleet is tossing on the sea, if one vessel enters the port in safety, the others pluck up courage to follow. When the soldiers see their leader mount the wall of the besieged city, they, though below, are stirred to press onward too.

And again, speaking of Christ resuming His seat in Heaven, he says that when a costly gem is given to a king, he sets it in a golden ring, which is exquisitely wrought, and which seemed a miracle of perfection before the insertion of the gem. But when the jewel is set, its glory eclipses all the graving of the ring. So was Heaven beauteous without Christ, beauteous as the setting, but now the precious gem, for whom all was made, is again in His place, and eclipses all other glories in His own effulgent beauty.

“The joy of Heaven must have been great, and the cause of the joy is manifest. Heaven has received its sun, enlightening it more than all its stars. It has gotten its precious gem adorning that ring of eternity more than its fine gold, more than all the comely forms thereon engraved. But, earth, how canst thou rejoice this day, deprived of the sun which late illumined thee? When the sun shines in this hemisphere, all things rejoice receiving light from it; but when it retires to the other hemisphere, those things which are in it begin their rejoicing, whilst those which are in ours are veiled in darkness, and droop in gloom and tears. When the ark of God was brought to Bethshemesh, that is, the house of the sun, the calves of the cows which drew it were shut up at home, and they lowed because the mothers which gave them milk were away. This day is the ark of God, which has been held captive in the house of this world, brought back into Heaven, the true house of the sun. And we, as the calves, remaining shut up in this world’s tabernacle, without our nourishment from the breast and wounds of Christ, how shall we do otherwise than low and lament?”

This beautiful and quaint passage will show how Osorius finds illustration in Scripture. I translate a few more specimens of his style.

“Behold how He loved him. St. Thomas explains this passage admirably when he says, quoting the wise man, Nothing doth countervail a faithful friend, and his excellency is invaluable, for a faithful friend is worthy of love: and yet, a faithful man who can find? He is a faithful friend who is stable in friendship; not forgetting a first friend when a new one arrives, nor when exalted in prosperity forgetful of the friend in poverty, nor despising the friend who is cast down.

“God will be found the most faithful friend, in that He never forgets former friends for the sake of new ones; but those whom He chose before time was, these will He love in eternity, when time is no more. Neither does the addition of new friends make the former less the friends of God, but rather the more grateful is it to Him that many should love Him. Nor is Christ like the chief butler, who, when things went well with him, forgot Joseph; but though the Lord be high, yet hath He respect unto the lowly. Christ, when mortal, chose men to be His friends; when made immortal, He called them His brethren. Go to My brethren, and say unto them, &c. (John xx. 17). Nor is the friendship of Christ capable of change through loss of the friend, as is evident from the eleventh chapter of St. John. Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus, when they were hale and sound. But what will He do when Lazarus is sick? Lord, behold he whom Thou lovest is sick; He ceases not to love because His friend is sick. Lazarus dies, the misery increases, but friendship does not decrease; for He says, Our friend Lazarus sleepeth. Lazarus is not called friend because that he loves, but because he is still beloved. Now Lazarus stinketh, and still Christ is his friend, for He weepeth because of him. Behold, they say, how He loved him! Ill, O multitude, do you speak! to Him love is present, therefore rather say, Behold how He loveth him! O most faithful Friend, Thou art He who sayest, I have loved thee with an everlasting love!

“Far otherwise are we toward Christ. He is in bonds, and lo! Peter swears that he knows Him not. O man! if you seek a true friend, seek first Christ, who changeth not. What think you is the friendship of the world? What the friendship of the flesh? You have three friends. You are in peril, for you are summoned before the king to be tried, and sentenced for high treason. You go to your first friend, and tell him your danger, and ask of him assistance. He replies that he will accompany you as far as the judgment hall, and leave you there. ‘Do you settle your affair with the king; I can do no more for you.’ Seeing that there is no help to be gotten from this friend, you turn to the second, and ask of him succour. He replies, ‘When you are executed, I will wrap your body in some old and cast-off linen, for a shroud.’ You go to the third, and he says, ‘I will be your advocate. I will assist you, and will liberate you. I will pacify the king, and, if need be, I will die in your room.’ Is not this a faithful friend? Now those who enter into compact of friendship with their flesh, which of these friends have they got? The first, which will accompany you only to the gate of death. Cherish the flesh, love it, and it will be a Delilah to you, handing you over to your enemies, leaving your soul before the Judge, without accompanying it. The world resembles the second friend, to please which you must torture yourself, but all it will give you in the end will be the shroud to enwrap your dead body. But Christ is the third friend, the faithful one, our advocate, who, to liberate us, endured death for us; He who accompanies us to the judgment, who frees us, who protects us! Let Him be our friend who truly loves us. We love God because He first loved us.”

I conclude with the following striking passage:—

“Are ye able to drink of the cup that I shall drink of? Being desirous of alluring His disciples to drink of the cup, He expounds to them its sweetness, when He says that He will drink of it first. And, in sooth, if we were faithful to God, this reason would be sufficient to make us drink it readily. But, as says the wise man, most men will proclaim every one his own goodness: but a faithful man who can find? There is not a son, there is not a servant, who acts as faithlessly with his father or his master as we act towards God. Would you know that of a certainty? I tell you be loth to sin, be ready to die rather than sin.

“Ah! but you say, I like to sin. I ask you, Upon what grounds do you persist in sinning? Well, you say, God is so good; He loves me, He is ready to pardon. So this is the reason why you continue in sin! And what though you know this for certain, where is your fidelity? where is your Christian honour? Does a wife act in this manner with her husband? a son with his father? a servant with his lord? I pray you bid your wife act in this manner towards you. Say to her, ‘Be chaste.’ She will say, ‘That is no concern of mine. I know full well that you are good, that you love me, and that if I were an adulteress you would pardon me.’ And if it were so, would this answer of your wife gratify you? Why! where would be the honour of a good woman? where her fidelity? Would it be deemed sufficient by you, if she were an adulteress and were reconciled to her husband? Does any minister act thus? You say to the royal minister, ‘Beware lest thou plot treason against your master.’ He replies, ‘He is an excellent king; he loves me, he will most certainly pardon me even if I do turn traitor.’ O vilest of men! O man truly without honour! where is the fidelity which you owe to your monarch?

“Vilest Christian of the household of Faith, unfaithful and destitute of honour! how continue to sin? how do you still commit adultery against God? how are you so traitorous to your King? You say: He will pardon me. Be it so. Yet where is your fidelity? where your honour? Is it sufficient to be reconciled, to be a pardoned traitor? Is it not far better to be able to say, I never was a traitor?

“Now let us turn to the subject. If we are faithful servants of God, enough for us that He has said, The cup that I shall drink of, to make us thirst for that cup. He drank thereof before thee; wilt thou not quaff of it out of love for Him? Is there a faithful soldier who would see his sovereign enter the battle, and fight amongst the foe, and withdraw himself, leaving his king alone, and betake himself to his sports? Hear what Uriah said, The ark, and Israel, and Judah, abide in tents; and my lord Joab, and the servants of my lord, are encamped in the open fields; shall I then go into mine house? How different also she who said, My Beloved is mine, and I am His. Bernard says, ‘In no other way can man respond to his God in these same words, except by love, and by drinking of the cup.’ God gives thee gifts; thou canst give Him nothing. I will take no bullock out of thine house. God beatifies thee; thou canst not beatify Him, except by love and suffering. God loves thee; love Him thou canst. He suffered for thee; suffer for Him thou canst. Thus mayest thou render unto Him what thou hast received of Him, and return, as it were, like for like to thy God.”