Chapter X
Blind Obedience
1611–1613
St. ALONSO had now reached his eightieth year. His had been a life of “labour and pain,” growing only the more painful as his days advanced. He owned that for years he had not been able to move without suffering, and he felt that there was no remedy for it, save in death, though sometimes he enjoyed a short respite.1 Nor can we be surprised if, like St. Paul, in the midst of his supernatural favours, Brother Rodriguez was still dogged by the Tempter. The remedy which he employed against the foul suggestions of the demons was to make a large sign of the cross, and to bid the evil spirits prostrate themselves and adore; or, at other times, he would summon them to repent and to beg pardon for their sins. This he did with great haughtiness of mien, nor could the rebel angels endure his scorn, but swiftly left him. Sometimes they suggested doubts and feelings of disgust at something he chanced to read in the life of a Saint, or even in that of Our Lord. He turned his thoughts away, and only said to those of whom he read, “Now I must serve you all the better;” and again he treated the demons with such contempt, that they were fain to leave him alone.
Some few days before he made his Manifestation of Conscience, in the June of 1611, St. Alonso was met by his old trouble, the fear of being expelled from the Society. He defended himself with his usual weapon, prayer to God for the grace to cast himself unreservedly into His Holy Hands, in this as in all other dangers. At once a deep peace came over his soul, and God, in reward for his generosity, granted him more graces at that moment than He had done for the whole of the last two years. So great indeed were they that the holy Brother half regretted that the temptation had so quickly passed away. It did come, however, again, and shortly after; but it could not win the day, because God supported His servant during the fight.
It was about this same time, that, in answer to his prayer that his two holy sisters might not only be saved, but might escape the prison house of purgatory, he received from God a distinct promise that it should be as he desired.
On the 31st of August, in the vessel which brought to Majorca the new Viceroy, Don Charles Coloma, there came, accompanied by several Fathers and Brothers, Father Gil, the new Rector of Montesion. He had been a distinguished student before his entry into the Society, and for twenty years had been, when a Jesuit, professor of Divinity at Barcelona, and three times Rector of the College of that city. Don Bernardine Cardeñas, Duke of Maqueda, took him as his confessor, when that nobleman went, in 1598, to Sicily as Viceroy; but he could not persuade Father Gil to lay aside his old and patched habit, which he had worn for thirty-three years.2 The new Rector resembled our Saint in his guard over his eyes, and in his devotion to the Immaculate Conception. He lived to give some very interesting evidence at the Process of our Saint, and died at Barcelona, after being Provincial of Aragon, in 1622.3
Under his active rule, to the Students’ and Gentlemen’s Sodalities there was added a Confraternity of Ecclesiastics, under the dedication of Our Lady’s Expectation. Father Gil also relieved the College of debt, built five additional rooms,4 and enriched both the Church and the Library. When in the following year, 1612, the new Confraternity was solemnly aggregated to the Prima Primaria of Rome, it already numbered one hundred Sodalists, and their piety was quite a matter of notoriety in the island.
A young man was received this year into religion by Father Gil,5 whose death was to be blessed by the aid obtained for him by our Saint’s prayers. Twelve of the students of Montesion became members of various Orders, at this time; besides another twelve, all of whom offered themselves for the Society. But it was thought best to accept, there and then, two only out of the number. Of these two, was Mark Antony Puigdorfila. He had a hard fight for his vocation. Born of the distinguished family of that name at Palma, he was the youngest of four brothers, and was a young man of twenty when he sought admission into the Order. He had gone through a course of philosophy at Montesion. But his early studies had been almost forgotten in his life of pleasure, and the Provincial6 discovered his deficiency of education, and refused to receive him, unless he would refresh and renew the whole of his classical studies. This he engaged to do, and did so bravely that he began again to follow the lower classes. By dint of hard work, in three months he regained his lost ground.
There was no vessel for Spain at the time in the harbour of Palma, so he made for the port of Soller, in order to cross to the mainland and to see the Provincial. But his father discovered his movements. He followed the runaway, and produced to the captain of the vessel on which Mark Antony intended to sail, a letter from the Viceroy, threatening him with pains and penalties, if he took the young man on board. Thus Mark was forced to return, but he went in tears to Montesion, and begged to be admitted. The sole answer was the advice to return home. Seven months passed in private study, until at last, with the aid of his kinsman, Count Savella, he managed to escape to Spain, and was there received into the Society. After his two years’ Noviciate, which he spent with great fervour, he was sent back to Majorca to continue his studies in 1614.
It is no matter of surprise that, at four score, our Saint’s memory began to fail him, to such a degree, that he could with difficulty recollect even the precious teachings he constantly received from on High. For God’s glory, for his own sake, for the good of others,7 he would gladly have noted them down; but the positive prohibition of Father de Villegas seemed to stand in the way. However, the exception which the late Provincial had made with reference to his Manifestations,8 made him question whether he was not permitted to avail himself of this permission, even though indirectly it might benefit others. Father de Villegas by this time had not only ceased to be Provincial, but was dead. It was therefore impossible to consult him as to the meaning of his injunction. Still it seemed to Rodriguez far the safest way to continue to abstain from writing, as in fact he had done ever since the precept was laid upon him. It was God, however, who, desirous that St. Alonso should leave behind, for the benefit of others, the lessons which He taught him, had put into the Brother’s heart this strong wish to write. In the doubt and perplexity which this caused him, again and again he had recourse to Jesus and Mary in earnest prayer. Our Lord declared to him explicitly that he might write what had occurred to him in prayer during the last few days, and that without fear.9
Another day, when saying grace after meals, Our Lady appeared to him, and told him to note down for the glory of God the devotions which he practised in her honour, and which he had employed for a great number of years.10 This order only created in our Saint’s mind fresh difficulties; and, in answer to his earnest petition for further light, God assured him that the order of the late Provincial referred only to writing anything for others. Still Alonso felt that these heavenly visions might be simply a snare, and he determined to consult the Spiritual Father of the House, the authorised Confessor and Director of the Community, at that time Father Torrens. As our Saint was weighing this before God, Our Lord said to him, “Father Torrens will say the same as I have told you. Go to him at once, speak to him about it, and lay before him your doubts.” And thus it fell out. Father Torrens very naturally knew perfectly well what had been the intention and wishes of Father de Villegas. So pleased were Jesus and Mary with the faithful obedience of their servant, that they appeared to him in great glory, and tenderly embraced him.
Though no distinct account is left of the prohibition having been renewed, certain it is that it did not remain very long in force. Very probably when the truth of the revelation about the Velina was made evident by the safe return of the ten captives, Father Gil released St. Alonso from the restriction, and to this we owe so many of the precious writings which our Saint has left us.
Father Torrens had such a high esteem of St. Alonso that he was naturally anxious to leave the Brother quite free in this matter, and as he was for about fourteen years his director, his evidence is most valuable. “Such was the love of God that burned in his breast that it not only showed itself in all his words; but they inflamed the hearts of all that heard him, however indevout and cold they might be. As to myself, I can assert that no spiritual book ever produced in me such fervour as did a conversation with Brother Alonso. Nor do I ever remember to have asked him to commend me to God without having experienced in consequence spiritual consolation, and this generally in great abundance. For this reason every time the Brother came to my room on any business, I begged of him as he left to pray to God for me. Many others owned that as often as they asked him for prayers to obtain any favour from God, they always gained it through the intercession of the Brother.”
“I was asked, when Rector, for some Fathers to give a mission in a town. We were very few in number, and I was then delicate, and did not feel myself up to the fatigue of the mission. However, I trusted in God and in the power of Alonso, and I took heart and went. During the mission I got perfectly well, and was even strong enough afterwards to undertake some other missions. I never remember hearing him speak on any subject save what related to God. And he did so with all his strength, and all his heart, never growing weary or failing in his fervour, for he lived a purely supernatural life, like that of an angel in Heaven.”11 In a letter of Francis Colin, September 21st, 1618—which he wrote, when not as yet a priest, to Father Marimon—from the College of Barcelona, he says that he had found a piece of paper in the handwriting of Alonso, which said that as he was recommending to our Lord Father Blanch, who then was suffering from giddiness in his head, the reply came that he would have lost his mind, but that God, at the Saint’s prayers, granted him health enough to do the work of the Society for——. The numbers of years and months were scratched out. The letter of Francis Colin goes on to say:
“He dealt with God about matters most hidden from other eyes. I recollect in 1611 that for five or six months, during his night examination, his sighs were so loud and so deep that he was heard over a great part of the college; and as I was living in another portion of the house, on the first night that I heard them, not knowing what they meant, I went close to where he lived, and found that it was Brother Rodriguez, and that he was near the door of his room, which he kept dark and with the door open. And, though we were all very anxious to know what this new thing meant, we never could find out.”12
The singleness of our Saint’s view in obedience, and the manner in which he acted in consequence, as has been already noticed, was clearly a difficulty to some of those who lived with him, and he tells us13 that oftentimes he had to suffer some persecution for the way in which he followed to the letter whatever he was told, and that one of the Fathers had even said he obeyed like an ass. His only answer was to beg Heaven fervently to undeceive him, if perchance he was wrong. So strong a light poured into his mind, in reply to his prayer, that he saw in God how the orders of his Superior proceeded from Him, and that he was, in consequence, to obey without reasoning, just as he would, were Our Lord to speak directly to him.
The Saint very distinctly acknowledges that this fashion of literal obedience, where the understanding refused to interfere, and the will alone hastened to act, is not for all. “There is,” he says, “within all perfect virtues, when God plants them in the soul, a great mystery, which is known only by the perfect. This is the work of Divine Love, which makes the soul do deeds high and heroic according to God, deeds which are not understood by all who see them, but which rather appear oftentimes to them to be imprudent and foolish, because they have not penetrated this mystery; and even servants of God sometimes in consequence lose patience at these actions.”14
And earlier on in the same treatise, he says: “This is the work of perfect virtue, without which, he who dares to attempt such things, might commit sin. So one needs must possess such true and real virtue as saves a soul from deceit, and makes it able to act virtuously and according to God, and not wickedly.”15
These acts of obedience are clearly, therefore, acts to be admired, but not imitated by all. They are out of the reach of ordinary holiness, and can be done by none but saints, who live in the closest union with God, and to whom He is all in all. That God could require such obedience is undeniable; and, to assert that He has never demanded it of His servants, would be to condemn as wanting in prudence many others besides St. Alonso. He himself tells us that God had taught him so to act. The question was warmly discussed during the Process of Canonization of St. Alonso, and his action was defended on the grounds laid down by the Saint, and these grounds satisfied the searching inquiry of the Roman Congregation. They are the exaltation of what is the principle of all obedience, recognising in the order of a Superior the will of God, made known by means of that order. Love brooked no delay to carry out the will of God, and so did not, could not, pause to consider whether the words could bear any other than their literal interpretation.16
So clear was his position, in the light vouchsafed to him, that he owned sometimes to feeling a sort of ardour and impatience to speak in its defence, even to those who were learned in theology; but he checked himself and pretended not to hear the remarks made about it, and, while carrying out strictly what he was told, strove gently and politely to avoid any discussion.17
Once during the Forty Hours’ exposition at Carnival time, there was a great crush of people in the College Church, and even the galleries or tribunes which ran round it were full. St. Alonso was seated in one of these, listening to a sermon, when Father Gil, the Rector, came in, both to hear the sermon and to see that there was no confusion on account of the crowd. The holy Brother at once got up from his place, and, squeezing himself against the wall, made room for his Superior. Father Gil at once said, “Keep quiet, Brother, don’t move, sit down!” and he did as he was bid. The sermon came to an end, and the Rector went to his room; the Mass, which was a solemn High Mass, and lasted a long time, came to an end, and the people left the tribunes. But St. Alonso stayed where he was. The bell rang for the first dinner, and again for the second dinner. Our Saint never stirred.
The attention of Father Redó was called, probably at the second dinner, to the absence of Rodriguez, and when the meal was over, he asked his Superior if he had sent the good Brother on any errand, or had used any words to him, which he could have taken as an order. Father Gil answered that he was not aware that he had done so. “Just think,” insisted Father Redó, “whether you have not said something to him.” Then the Rector remembered what he had said, and sent off at once to the tribune, and there St. Alonso was found sitting exactly where he had been, not having moved even so much as to put on his biretta, which was at the end of the bench. He was told to go down to the refectory, and at once he went, not even taking his cap, nor entering his room, which he passed on the way, to lay aside his cloak and put on his zimarra, a loose outer robe.
When the Rector saw him in that guise, he bade some one to take the Brother’s cloak, and go and fetch his biretta and zimarra, and he then told him to be seated. And when they were alone, he asked Brother Rodriguez, “Why did you stop up there?” “Out of obedience,” was his answer. “Brother,” urged the Rector, “when the bell rang for the refectory, was not that the call of obedience? Ought you not to have come down to dinner? And if you were ordered to stay where you were, as well as to come down, you had no ground for doubt as to what to do; for, as the rule tells you, you should have asked the Superior which of the two orders you had to obey. What do you say to that?” The Brother answered very simply, “I have nothing to say about it.” In fact, he never reasoned in presence of a command; and besides, he was so greedy of reproofs, that he was glad when he received any.18
A very similar event occurred one day in mid-winter. St. Alonso was sitting on a piece of timber, in the patio del Refectorio,19 taking recreation with the rest in the bright southern sun. Father Gil came to join the circle, and our Saint rose at once to make room for his Superior, “And,” to quote the Rector’s words, “I said, without thinking: ‘Keep quiet, Brother; don’t move;’ not for a moment adverting to the fact that I had given him an order under obedience to stay where he was. We chatted together the whole hour, and when it was finished, I went off to my room, and all the Fathers and Brothers too dispersed. But Brother Rodriguez remained sitting there for several hours, without stirring or saying a word to anyone who chanced to cross the patio. He stopped, in fact, so long, that the passers-by were astonished at his being there and all alone, such an unusual thing for him to be. One of the Community came to me and said, ‘Father Rector, Brother Rodriguez is sitting in the place where we take recreation, and does not seem to be going away. Is it because your Reverence has said something to him, or told him to do anything, that he is stopping there?’ I examined my memory, and recollected what I had said to him—that he was not to move—and I sent to him by one of the religious, to let him know that my meaning had not been that he should stay there, and so he might get up and go to his prayers and devotions.”20 When Father Rector asked him why he did not move at the sound of the bell, St. Alonso again shrugged up his shoulders and said, “I am a fool, a blockhead, in fact a mere nothing.”
A still stranger instance of blind obedience occurred at a little earlier date. Brother Roca, who was the infirmarian, was one day waiting on our Saint, who was ill at the time. He had brought to him in the Refectory some tasty and thick soup, in an earthenware dish or porringer—escudella. He noticed that the sick man would not touch it, out of love of mortification and dislike of special fare, and as Roca thought it would do him good, he got the Rector to send word that he must eat the whole dish—escudella. Alonso at once began with his knife to scrape the rough earthenware, endeavouring thus to fulfil the order to the letter. The noise naturally attracted the attention of the Brothers at his side, and Roca then asked him why he was spoiling the knife and scratching the dish. “Because,” answered Alonso, “they told me to eat it.” “No,” explained Brother Roca, “the Superior only wished you to finish the soup; that is what we mean here by the dish.” So the holy Brother laid down his knife, and did as he was bid.21 It is clear that the Rector might have enjoined in earnest what his words literally conveyed, as a test of the Saint’s obedience; so Alonso was justified in taking them in their strictest sense.
In the same way, one Wednesday in Holy Week, Alonso had been told off to put out the candles in the triangular candlestick during Tenebræ. Each time, however, that a psalm ended, a server, who was seated on the steps of the altar close to the candlestick, jumped up and put out a candle. Our Saint was fully aware that he was being forestalled, but he felt it his duty to carry out his instructions as far as he could. So he rose each time at the proper moment, left his place, genuflected to the cross, and though very infirm and hardly able to walk, went with his extinguisher to perform what was already done by the time he arrived; nor did he say a single word to the boy, who was a poor lad who could have borne a scolding. It is hardly necessary to add that the sacristan took care that the server did not repeat his tricks on the following nights.22
Another time, while Father Torrens was Rector, when some letters from missionary Fathers were being read after supper, in the library,23 the bell rang for the end of the recreation, and Father Rector, who was present, did not wish to miss the end of the letter, which was full of edifying news. Alonso rose to leave at the first sound; but his Superior said to him, “Sit down, Brother, do not go.” Soon after, the bell rang for the night examen. The Rector and all the rest left the room, but our Saint sat on, all night, on the same chair, full of joy at the exercise of a painful obedience. The Brother who went round to call the Community, informed the Father Rector of the absence of Alonso from his room, and Father Torrens bade the caller to seek for him, and to send him off to his cell. Thus was he discovered in the library.
John Pasqual, a great friend of our Saint and an excellent priest, came one day when the Brother was poorly, and asked leave to see him. The Rector, wishing no doubt to spare Alonso a long visit, sent the porter to tell him that he might go and say a word or two with his friend. Brother Rodriguez went down to the cloister of the College, and, lifting his cap and saluting him, said to the priest, “Deo gratias;” then, with another reverence, came back at once, without another word, to his room. When the Rector heard from the porter what had happened, he bade our Saint go down again and have a little chat with the good priest.24 In fact, with all St. Alonso’s tenacity to the orders given him, he never failed to temper them with all possible gentleness and consideration when they were a trial to his neighbour. His Superiors had forbidden him, in order to keep the house quiet, to allow any horses or mules to stop in the patio of the Porteria. The doctor came one day to visit one of the Community who was ill; and, as it began to rain very violently, the doctor’s servant took his master’s mule for shelter under the arch of the entrance to the patio. Our Saint, unwilling to swerve from his orders, begged the servant, with all possible civility, not to stop up the way; at the same time he pointed out to him that he might take shelter under the entrance to a neighbouring house.
The official report which Father Gil sent to Rome of our Saint, in the last year of his office, declares that he was “of good judgment and talent, of great and heroic prudence, and a man of vast experience, especially in spiritual matters.”25 And for the three years or more that Father Gil remained in the College he could testify, that he had never seen or heard of St. Alonso violating a single rule, or in the slightest way any order or custom of the house. In fact, he knew that if he wanted anything to be done, it was quite enough to tell the holy Brother, who never failed to see to it, and never forgot it. If he asked him to remind him to speak to him, or bade him to tell someone anything, or to let him know when such a Father came in, or at such an hour to tell such a Father, or to bid the porter to let him know when someone came to see him, whatever, in short, might be enjoined him, the Rector could remain perfectly tranquil, because he knew he could rely absolutely on the Brother.26
Father Gil was giving a “Retreat” to the Scholastics and lay-Brothers, and he impressed upon them more than once during the Exercises the importance of following strictly the method laid down by St. Ignatius. His Superior’s words were a very practical difficulty to Alonso; and, several times during the Retreat he went to Father Gil to explain that the moment he began to pray he was at once closely united by love with God, and that he could not easily use his faculties in the way the Exercises describe. The Father Rector always reassured him that he was not bound so to do, because his way of prayer brought him to the same end towards which the Exercises lead.27
During another Retreat, whether before or after that given by Father Gil does not appear precisely, the same difficulty occurred. But with different results. The Father had been giving the “Points” in his own room, and had, like Father Gil, insisted that all must follow strictly the subject proposed to them. A short time after the exercitants had retired to make their meditations, St. Alonso came back and explained that for years he had followed a method of prayer, which entirely consisted of affections of gratitude for the light which seemed to flash upon him instantaneously out of the mystery before him. He wished to know whether, in place of that, he was to follow the plan the Father had laid down. “Do as I have told you,” was the reply, “for it is nothing else than what Our Holy Father prescribes.” The Saint bowed his head submissively and went away, fully determined to carry out to the best of his power the instructions he had received. And so he did. In spite of the graces which seemed to bear him off on high, he forced himself resolutely, all during the Retreat, to toil on across the dull and level plain. And God rewarded his obedience by flooding his soul with a peace and joy far beyond his ordinary favours, and which showed how acceptable was his ready compliance to an unwise and narrow direction.28
Spite of his great age, his old love of penance was still strong in the Saint; and over and over again he begged Father Gil to be allowed to fast. The Rector, however, saw that in his state of health, with his body broken down and his legs swollen, it was out of the question, and he told the holy Brother his fasts must be “fasts of desire.” Alonso got the same answer when he begged to gird on his haircloth or to take the discipline. Still, up to this time, or nearly so, he owned to his Rector that, though hardly able to stand, he had continued to discipline himself twice a week. And he complained bitterly of the little power he had in his arms, and he wished to exchange his scourge, which was old and worn, for a more cruel one. It had been always his practice, as has been remarked, to go each month to the Rector to get leave for the various penances with which he afflicted his body. When he was too ill to go to his Superior, he would send to ask leave, and if his sickness prevented his using his accustomed penances, he begged for something in their place which he was able to do.
Thus in his monthly visit to the Rector he used to ask to be allowed to do some acts of humility in the Refectory, and, “I gave him leave,” that Father tells us,29 “to kiss the feet, once a week, of all the Fathers and Brothers who were at table, and he did so with great devotion and humility; but as he was so old, I noticed that he was not able to kiss the feet of so many, for he almost fell down, and I told him merely to kiss the feet of one at each table. I soon, however, saw that he was not fit to do even that, and I bade him to kiss them in spirit, and told him that he would get all the merit of the act by so holy a desire. He used to ask me also to let him say the Miserere on his knees in the Refectory, with his arms stretched out as a cross. And though his arms drooped down, and his body was bent like a bow, he held on and said the psalm to himself to the very end. It was a sight that filled all with devotion. So too, he often begged leave to ‘tell his fault’ at table for not keeping his religious rules, and when I granted him permission, he used to tell it with great humility and fervour; he did this without fail every week.”
As nothing displeased St. Alonso so much as to be thought much of, or to be considered in any way, so nothing pleased him better than to be treated with contempt. His Superiors knew his likings, and now and again would say to him that he was of no use in the house, and could do nothing but eat. He would simply answer; “Your Reverence says what is quite true; nothing ought to be looked upon as nothing.” Not only did he respect his Superiors and humble himself before them, but he paid, as did St. John Berchmans, special respect even to those who had, in former times, been his Superiors. All felt and knew that he regarded himself as the last and lowest in the house. As he invariably sought for the worst clothes, so he coveted the most menial occupation. If forced to accept better clothes he would jeer at himself and his fine feathers, and at the contrast between his profession and his practice.
No wonder that Father Gil, knowing how thorough a master he was in humility, would sometimes ask him at the Spiritual Conferences, which used to be held on Friday nights, to speak to them of this, his favourite virtue; and wonderful and profound were his utterances about it. Nor was this the only topic about which he astonished the Community with his heaven-won learning. Sometimes at these Conferences, after asking Fathers who had taken their doctorate in theology, to give their opinions on other spiritual points, Father Gil would turn to the humble lay-Brother and bid him to speak on the subject. At once he would pour out wonderful truths about the Blessed Sacrament, or on the reverence due to Holy Mass, and to pictures. When the subject proposed was the love and fear of God, then St. Alonso would get so rapt with affection that his face glowed, his voice rose, and, as he uttered marvels and wonders sublime, he looked like a seraph all on fire with divine charity. In fact, Father Gil, in his evidence30 deposed that his daily life was so full of modesty, so free from sloth, so recollected, so entirely given to prayer, he was so watchful in his words, so equable in his temper, that he seemed like an angel who is ever in the presence of his God. And this was the opinion of all who knew him, whether members of the Community or others.
Father Gil, while Rector, used to say the earliest Mass in the church on Sundays and holidays, and always noticed the venerable Brother wrapt in his cloak, in the Sanctuary—at the high altar—with his face aflame with piety and devotion, while from his eyes flowed a stream of silent tears. No matter how fatigued he might be, and in spite of his age and infirmity, though his head and body were bowed with weakness, he remained kneeling the whole time. Nor did he heed the sharp cold of winter—so sharp in the unwarmed church, nor the intense heat of summer. He was most greedy of spiritual food, going most regularly all through Lent and on other days, to the sermons, and listening to them with all attention; and in the Refectory it was clear that his mind was fixed on the reading which was going on.
One morning in 1611, he was serving the Rector’s Mass as he was accustomed. After the elevation, he began to make his usual renewal of his vows, as he was wont to do every day. He was pondering the immense favour which God’s goodness had done him in body and soul, by calling him to the Society, by allowing him to enter, and by keeping him in it, when God gave him so clear a light about this grace, that it seemed to him that the mind of man was unable to comprehend it. And as the memory came before him, under that supernatural ray, of all the general and special favours which he had received, he felt himself straitened on every side, and drowned in the thought of the debt he had contracted, and of his inability to meet it. Not knowing what to do, and full of shame and self-distrust, he turned to his Divine Master and laid before Him his distress. “Alonso,” was the reply from heaven, “always continue in this exercise of profound humility, prostrate at My feet, and all will go well with you.” And again and again he received the same precious lesson.
As God revealed to the great penitent, St. Margaret of Cortona, a vision of the glorious Order of St. Francis shining like a sun amidst the stars, so He showed to St. Alonso a like vision of the Society. But our Saint insisted that the success and progress of the Society, both in itself and in numbers, would depend entirely upon its fidelity to the high standard of obedience laid down for it by St. Ignatius.31
With the exception of the hours of meals, and of recreation, he passed all his time in either reading or writing spiritual subjects, and in praying in his own room or in the church.
His Superiors bade him, because so feeble and old, to take a mouthful every morning; for breakfast was not in those days a regular meal. St. Alonso, with his aversion to any exemptions, begged that the order might be rescinded; but as this could not be, he satisfied his love both of obedience and of penance by taking literally only a mouthful. However, the Infirmarian informed the Superior, and our Saint received a fresh and more explicit order as to the quantity of this meal. Needless to say, he obeyed; but Francis Colin, used often to notice that he kept one leg off the ground, to make up by this penance for the indulgence which had been enjoined him; and, with what he suffered in his lower limbs, this must have been a very painful compensation.
As his helplessness increased with his years, so did his unwillingness to give trouble, and so also his patience under any pain. Thus, when he went to the Refectory for his breakfast, if it were not ready, he would wait quietly for it, and neither for that nor for anything else did Father Gil ever know St. Alonso to ask anything for himself. On the contrary, he was glad when he found he was without something in his room, or elsewhere. He considered himself a beggar, who had been taken, out of charity, into another man’s house for the love of God. Not only did he not keep anything as his own, but never was he known to say or do anything which showed that he considered anything as his own.
If he found even a pin about the house, he would take it to the Brother Dispenser. St. Alonso used to get a scholastic to mend his pen. Partly out of reverence to our Saint, partly because it was so worn out, the scholastic sometimes gave him a new one, and kept the old one for himself as a relic. But when Alonso perceived this he would by no means permit it, as something against his rule; and when the other urged that the rule ‘did not refer to such trifles, our Saint insisted that the words by which he was forbidden to receive anything without the Superior’s consent, referred to small things as well as to great. Nor would he ever employ a bit of paper which he might chance to find lying about, without first taking it to the Father Minister to get leave to use it. It was on such old and dirty scraps of paper, that St. Alonso composed his notes on spiritual matters.
Father Gil was one of the Council Royal of Majorca, and used to meet at its board Don Francis Pacheco, to whom St. Alonso had done a great service in days past. He had been at that time a judge of the royal court. After a Visitor or inspector had been to the island, a report was spread that, in consequence of informations sent by that official to the Crown, Don Pacheco was either there and then actually deposed, or was on the point of being deprived of his place on the bench.
Alonso, to whose prayers this case had been strongly recommended by his Superior, spent the best part of that night in prayer, and when Don Francis came the following morning, our Saint assured him that he had commended the matter to God, and what he had learned from Heaven was, that Pacheco must go at once to Madrid, for his case had not yet been decided, and that he would not forfeit his position.
The advice did not please Don Francis, for he believed that his chief enemy was then at the Spanish Court. However, he followed our Saint’s advice, and sailed for Spain that very night, with only one servant. No sooner had he reached the province of Valencia, than he was informed of the death of his opponent. This was the first confirmation of the prophecy, and he went forward with a light heart. As he approached the capital, every difficulty cleared away. He was confirmed in his post, and returned on his way home, full of gratitude to his friend, the lowly lay-Brother of Majorca.
On embarking, a fresh protection of Providence awaited him. He had already put his luggage on a vessel, when some secret impulse induced him to defer his journey, and to take his baggage once more to shore. The ship sailed, but it was wrecked, went to the bottom, and all hands were lost.32 Don Pacheco embarked a second time, and arrived in safety at Majorca, where later on he received letters from his sovereign, giving him the post of Visitor of Minorca.
He never ceased to own that our Saint was his greatest benefactor. He had his portrait painted and he kept it, where Father Gil often saw it, at his bed-head, and many a time when he spoke of him he could not help bursting into tears. Some years after Don Francis received the appointment of Governor of Cagliari.33 Before leaving Majorca, a lawsuit between the Carthusians and the College of Montesion was being tried by Pacheco, about the tithes of S. Juan and El Rafal, which belonged to the common endowment of Montesion and the Chartreuse. It was going against the College; but the sentence was not as yet pronounced. The Rector, Father Gil, had got an inkling of this, and told St. Alonso: “Brother, Don Francis is trying a lawsuit of the College, and it is reported that we have lost it. I think he has not looked well into the matter; because I understand that right is on our side in one or two of the points which have gone against us. Commend the matter, Brother, to our Lord, in your prayers.” Next morning, when going to serve the Rector’s Mass, our Saint said to him, “Father, could we not let the judge know the points where he seems to be in error?” “Yes, we can,” he replied, “because the decision has not yet been made public, and in fact a lawyer is going to lay the matter before the judge.”
“Well,” said Alonso, “let him go, and the judge will change his decision.” This foreknowledge was no doubt the fruit of his prayer, for things happened just as he had predicted, to the astonishment of the judge himself, who had suddenly come to take a completely new view of the matter, and one favourable to Montesion.
Notes
Memor., Append., p. 188.
↩V. Tanner, Apost. Imitat., p. 548.
↩He translated the “Imitation of Christ” into Catalan. Much to Father Marimon’s grief he prevented, when Provincial, in 1618, for reasons which do not very clearly appear, the publication of Marimon’s Life of our Saint; and the aggrieved Father, in 1627, complained of his conduct to Father Mutius Vitelleschi, the then General of the Society. Vida del Ven. Hermano Alonso Rodriguez. Prefacion, MS. Montesion.
↩The Community in 1611 amounted to 37, of whom 16 were Priests, 12 Scholastics, and 9 Lay-Brothers. Litt. Ann.
↩Obras Espir., Tom.I., p. 654. Cf. Litt. Ann., 1612.
↩Probably Father de Villegas.
↩“That some poor good Brothers who did not know how to write might profit by his lights.” Marimon, lib. vii., § 11.
↩Father Marimon says distinctly that he was allowed to take notes for his own use.
↩Marimon, loc. cit.
↩V. Memor., n. 207; cf. n. 201.
↩Elench. Summ., p. 188, lxvi. Cf. Nonell, p. 542.
↩MS. Letter of Father Colin, Montesion.
↩Memor., n. 196. 1613.
↩Lib. F., p. 67, cited by F. Nonell. Obras Espir., T. I, p. 210.
↩Ibid., p. 21.
↩The question was being talked over in the presence of the Venerable Father Beckx, the late General of the Society, and someone said that such obedience would be a great “bother” to Superiors. “It would be a very good thing if Superiors never had any other ‘bothers,’” was his rejoinder. Father Bonavenia. Vita di Sant’ Alfonso Rodriguez, p. 129. Rome, 1888.
↩Cf. Obras Espir., T. III., pp. 767–772.
↩V. Marimon, lib. v., § 22. Cf. Summ. Elench., pars. II., sect. xxxviii., evid. PP. Gil. et Colin, and MS. letter of Father Crespin, Montesion. From this letter it is evident that this took place in the year 1613, or in the first half of 1614.
↩The patio in which was the cistern mentioned before. It is a small and picturesque court, close to a large garden, with a fine palm tree now growing in it.
↩Proc. Inform. Summ., p. 91, § 16.; cf. Algunos prisos de la vida del Hermano Alonso por el Padre Gil, MS. Montesion, p. 6.
↩Evidence of Brother Roca. Proc. Ap. Summ., p. 95. Cf. Memor., n. 165. Jan., 1611.
↩Evid. of Don Jerome Caldes (who was present on the occasion). V. Summ., p. 48, sect. xvi. Cf. Marimon, lib. iv., § 6.
↩The library was built by 1611, and Doctor Guy Forteza, the Archdeacon of Majorca and uncle of Father John Forteza, left his valuable collection of works to the College in 1612.
↩Marimon, lib. v., § 24.
↩Catalogus trienn. Prov. Aragon; cited by Father Bonavenia, p. 133.
↩Summ., pp. 90, 91.
↩Algunos prisos., p. 6. In Father Gil’s evidence in the Summary, p. 87, he speaks as if this occurred when suggesting thoughts to the Scholastics and lay-Brothers during the time of Meditation, which he used to do when Rector, now and again, during the year.
↩Marimon, l. v., § 36. Cf. Boisseux, p. 201.
↩Summ., p. 119.
↩Summ., p. 92.
↩Memor., n. 193. Jan., 1613.
↩V. Marimon, l. vii., § 31.
↩He held this post when Father Marimon wrote this account, in 1618; v. loc. cit.
↩