(came from an internet source...)
St.
Dominic Savio (Pupil
of St. Don Bosco) whose cause (for Beatification and Canonization) was
introduced February 11th, 1914.
PREFACE
"Let
us leave a saint to write the life of a saint," is said to have been the
exclamation of the Angelic Doctor St. Thomas Aquinas, when he entered the cell
of his brother doctor, St. Bonaventure, and found him absorbed in writing the
life of his spiritual father, St. Francis. The peculiar value of the present
little book is that it may be said once more to present the spectacle of a
saint writing the life of a saint. Only whereas in St. Bonaventure's case a son
was writing the life of a father, in this case we have the unique example of a
father writing the life of his spiritual son. The writer, the saintly Don
Bosco, has already been declared Venerable, and the process for his
Beatification is proceeding in Rome. Little Domenico Savio, whose biography was
originally published by Don Bosco very shortly after the holy child's death,
was, as will be seen, Don Bosco's spiritual child, and it is a subject of great
joy to all his admirers that his cause also has at last been introduced at Rome
with the approval of the Holy See. The publication of this English translation
of the life, may, please God, contribute not a little to the successful issue
of the cause of his beatification. There are reasons why the life of Domenico
Savio should be considered particularly appropriate at the present day, and
also why it should appeal especially to English Catholics. As will be seen from
the narrative which follows, the boyhood of Domenico to some extent coincided
with that of our present Holy Father,—there were less than seven years between
the times of their birth, and in many respects the early years of the one were
like those of the other. Both were sons of humble peasant families in the North
of Italy; both as boys had to trudge many miles barefooted day by day to attend
school; both were distinguished by identical qualities of mind and soul. More
than this. The boy Giuseppe Sarto of Riese was destined to become "the
Pope of the Eucharist," and no acts of his wonderful Pontificate have more
profoundly influenced the spiritual life of the Catholic Church than his
legislation on daily Communion and on the first Communion of children on
arriving at the use of reason. Now it is a remarkable fact that the childhood
of Domenico Savio anticipated these profound reforms, inasmuch as, owing to his
extraordinary sanctity, he was as early as 1849 admitted to his first Communion
at the age of seven, and continued thereafter to be a daily Communicant. At
that date such an event must indeed have appeared phenomenal and seems to
constitute Domenico a most suitable patron for the juvenile first communicants
and daily communicants of the present discipline. Nor is this all. Domenico
Savio, whom we all hope to see one day raised to the Altars of the Church, died
as a schoolboy and when not yet fifteen years of age. He was not a Religious of
any Order, he was not a Cleric, nor even as yet a church student, though hoping
one day to become one; he was just an ordinary schoolboy, fond of his games, as
well as of his books. Herein again we seem to see a peculiarly appropriate
patron for all Catholic school children, for Domenico may be truly said to be
one of themselves, and in these days of educational strife and danger such a
patron is more than ever needed by our Catholic schools. Last of all we cannot
but be struck by the extraordinary fact of Domenico's interest in England, as
mentioned in chapter ten, and his wonderful vision narrated in chapter
nineteen. As far as I know, there is nothing to show why this little Italian
schoolboy should have felt any interest in England, or indeed how he came to
know anything about it. It reminds one of the case of St. Paul of the Cross,
except that it is a much more wonderful phenomenon in the case of a mere child.
For this reason I feel specially pleased to see the life in an English dress,
and I sincerely trust that the book may have a wide circulation in English
speaking countries, and that all readers, and specially the children of our
schools, may join in earnest prayer for the promotion of the cause of one whom
we may hope some day to acclaim as "the Schoolboy Saint."
†
LOUIS CHARLES; Bishop of Salford; St. Bede's College, May 6th, 1914.
THE
AUTHOR'S PREFACE.
The
reference made by His Lordship the Bishop of Salford to the Ven. Don Bosco in
the preceding preface, convinces us that the introduction to this work, as
written by the Servant of God, ought not to be omitted from the translation. In
fact, all that has been written by the Ven. Don Bosco is now regarded as
invested with a higher authority, apart from its own intrinsic merit, arising
from his considerable repute as an author. The Ven. Don Bosco addressed these
words to the boys of his Oratory at Turin: "You have frequently asked me
to write something about your former companion, Dominic Savio; and now I have
done what I could to satisfy your desire. Here is his life, described with that
brevity and simplicity which I know is most acceptable to you. There were two
difficulties in the way of publishing this work; first there was the criticism
to which one is exposed, who describes what was performed under the eyes of
many witnesses. I think I have overcome this by determining to narrate only
what has been observed by you or by myself, and which I keep preserved in your
own writing. The other obstacle was the necessity of often mentioning myself,
for as Dominic was three years in this House, I must necessarily refer to
things with which I am personally connected. This I think I have overcome by
adhering strictly to the duty of an historian, which is to present the
statement of facts, irrespective of the persons concerned. But if, here and
there, I should appear to speak too openly of myself, you must put it down to
my regard for the boy who has gone, and for all of you besides; for this
affection makes me open my heart to you, as a father does when speaking to his
children. Some of you may wonder why I have prepared a Life of Dominic Savio, and not of
other youths who were here at school, and lived lives of eminent virtue. It is
quite true that Divine Providence deigned to send us several boys who were
examples of holiness, such as Gabriel
Fascio, Louis
Rua, Camillus
Gavio, John
Massiglia and others; but the incidents connected with these are
not so conspicuous and remarkable as those of Savio, whose whole life was
wonderful. However, if God gives me health and grace, I intend to publish a
collection of facts concerning these other companions, both to satisfy your
desires and my own, and so that you may imitate what may be compatible with
your state. In this edition I have inserted several new accounts, which will
increase the interest of those who have read the former editions. But I would
ask you to try to draw profit from what I am going to describe; say with St.
Augustine: si ille, cur non
ego? If a companion of mine, of my age and circumstances, exposed
to the same or even greater difficulties, could yet remain a faithful disciple
of Christ, why cannot I do the same? Remember that true religion is not a
matter of words; there must be deeds. Hence, if you find something related
worthy of admiration, do not be satisfied with saying: I like that, or that is very good; but
rather say: I want to put
into practice what I see is praiseworthy in others. May God grant
you, and all the readers of this book, strength and grace to draw profit from
what is therein contained; and may Our Blessed Lady, to whom Dominic was so
devout, obtain for us all one heart and mind in serving God, who alone is
worthy of being loved above all things, and faithfully served during our whole
life.
Chapter
I. Early Life and Signs of Extraordinary Gifts
ABOUT
ten miles from Turin, in the north of Italy, lies the village of Castelnuovo
d'Asti, and there in 1841 lived a good, hardworking couple, Charles and Bridget
Savio. About that time, however, there was scarcity of labour in the
neighbourhood, and they accordingly moved away in the direction of Chieri,
which is about nine miles south-east of Turin; and, having settled at the
little township of Riva, Charles Savio applied himself to his trade of an
ironworker. On April 2nd of the next year, 1842, a child was born, who was to
prove a blessing and consolation to his parents; he was given the name of
Dominic at baptism, and though no particular importance was attached to the
name at the time, the boy, in later years, held it in particular esteem, as
there will be occasion to learn. When the boy was scarcely two years of age,
his parents decided to return to their former neighbourhood, and they settled
at Murialdo, which is quite close to
their early home at Castelnuovo. Like devoted parents, the careful upbringing
of their boy was their chief solicitude, and, considering his tender years,
Dominic soon displayed an excellent disposition, and piety seemed to be part of
his very nature. Morning and evening prayers at once impressed themselves on
his childish mind, and at four years of age he could recite them all quite
readily; he was always attentive to his mother's wishes, and only left her to
say his prayers in some quiet corner, where he was undisturbed. In the
unreflecting manner, natural to them, children are generally a source of worry
and disturbance to their mothers; it is the age when they must touch and
examine and often taste everything they come across; but Dominic's parents
testify that he never gave the least trouble in this way. He was not only
obedient to the smallest point, but ready for any expression of a wish, and
tried to forsee opportunities of doing them some little service. He was quite
above the average in his appreciation for his parents' kindness, and he had his
own method of expressing it, particularly as his father returned from his day's
work. He always ran out to meet him, hoped he was not too tired, and promised
to pray for him in return for all his labours. So saying, he would enter the
house, place his father's chair ready, and attend to all his wants. "This childish
appreciation and thoughtfulness," says his father, "were naturally
very welcome to me, and as evening drew nigh I began to feel a particular
longing to get home, to receive and give these marks of affection; for the boy
was everything to me." Day by day the child's piety increased, and from
the time that he was four years of age, there was no need to remind him of his
prayers, whether morning or evening or at meals, or at the time of the Angelus;
in fact he would even remind others, should they appear to forget them. One day
some distraction occurred as they were sitting down to dinner, and grace before
meals was forgotten; but little Dominic was too attentive: "Father,"
he said, "We have not yet asked God's blessing on our food," and he
straightway made the Sign of the Cross and began the usual prayer. At another
time a stranger was staying in the house, and he sat down to his meal without
any act of religion. Dominic did not like to speak of it openly, yet he was too
much moved to remain at the table, and went to one of his quiet corners. When
he was questioned about this unusual proceeding by his parents, he replied:
"I could not remain at table with one who eats as do the beasts without a
thought of God."
CHAPTER
II. EXAMPLES OF YOUTHFUL VIRTUE AT MURIALDO. HIS EARLY DAYS AT SCHOOL.
It
is a common thing to find people who are incredulous on the subject of youthful
piety, and therefore it would be well to state at the outset that, for the
following account, the writer is drawing directly from the narrative of the
parish priest of the district in which Murialdo lay. In his written account he
states: "Soon after I had been appointed to Murialdo, and had commenced my
duties, my notice was drawn in a special manner to a little boy of about five
years of age who was brought by his mother to the church. His gentle
countenance, his air of composure, his whole demeanour so devout and
attractive, drew my attention to him, as they had already drawn the notice of
others. When he had learnt the way to church, he would sometimes arrive there
before the doors were opened; however, it did not suggest itself to him to
spend the interval in play, as doubtless other boys would have done, but he
used to kneel down on the steps, place himself in an attitude of prayer and
remain thus till the church was opened. Neither rain nor snow seemed to affect
him in any way when he was thus occupied. It was therefore very natural that I
should be curious to make the acquaintance of this extraordinary child, and I
found that he was none other than the little son of the blacksmith, Charles
Savio. If he ever saw me in the street he immediately made a respectful and
joyful salutation, and always anticipated my greeting. It was about this time
that he commenced to attend the parish school, and his already acquired habits
of diligence and of taking pains with everything, soon showed their effect in
his rapid progress. He had, of course, to mix with the young and thoughtless
boys of his own age, but he always managed to avoid their little quarrels and
disputes, although this at times brought upon him taunts and insults, which he
bore with remarkable courage and patience. The usual boyish, but by no means
praiseworthy, tricks and escapades were part of the usual programme of his
companions, but Dominic generally found means for being otherwise employed when
these were in progress. The little habits of piety already described increased
with the growing years of his boyhood, and developed in proportion as he had
scope for its practice. At five years of age he had already learnt to serve
Mass and did so with great devotion. He went in good time every day to the
church, and, dearly as he loved to serve, he was ready to yield the privilege
to others if they wished to do so, in which case he assisted with great
devotion. He often went to Confession, and as soon as he was allowed to make
his First Communion he did so with fervour and delight. At the sight of so many
signs of unusual piety I often used to think to myself: 'Here surely is a boy
of great promise; God grant that some means may be found to bring such rare
gifts to maturity.' " Such was the narrative of the parish priest of
Murialdo, who had watched over the childhood of this gifted boy.
CHAPTER
III. DOMINIC IS ALLOWED TO MAKE HIS FIRST COMMUNION BEFORE THE USUAL AGE.
PREPARATION FOR THE IMPORTANT DAY. HIS RESOLUTIONS.
IT
was remarked in the foregoing chapter that Dominic showed exceptional piety
when he Approached the HolyTable, but there were important circumstances
connected with his First Communion that call for consideration. As far as
dispositions are concerned, Dominic appeared to have the most excellent ones;
he knew the necessary catechism thoroughly; he had a clear knowledge,
considering his years, of this the greatest of the Sacraments, and moreover,
his desire to receive it was eager and constant. The only obstacle, therefore,
was his age, for at that time, children were usually not allowed to make their
First Communion before they were eleven or twelve. Savio was only a boy of seven,
and he hardly looked his few years, so that the parish priest hesitated. He
consulted the neighbouring priests, and having carefully considered the the
boy's knowledge and dispositions, all doubt and hesitation were finally swept
aside, and Dominic was allowed to partake, for the first time, of the food of
angels. The boy could not repress his delight when he was told this good news,
and a supernatural joy seemed to take possession of his soul. He ran to his
mother to tell her; he was eager to spend more time in prayer, or in reading
the instructions for Holy Communion; he spent more time than ever at church,
before and after Mass; he seemed to be already communing with the angels in
adoration. On the eve of the great event in his life, he said to his mother:
"As I am going to make my First Communion tomorrow, forgive me the pain I
have caused you in the past; from now I shall be much better; I shall be more
attentive at school, and more obedient in whatever you tell me to do." His
sorrow for what he imagined to be his past faults so moved him as to fill his
eyes with tears; and the mother, deeply touched, as was natural, at these pious
dispositions in her boy, and remembering that in the past he had been a
continual source of consolation to her, comforted him by saying: "Put your
fears away, my child, whatever you may have done is all forgiven; pray that God
may keep you good, and pray for your father and mother." When that
memorable day dawned, he rose early, and long before the time set off for the
church, which he found still shut. He knelt down on the step, as was his wont,
and said his prayers, till the doors were opened to admit the children, who by
this time had gathered together. There were still some confessions to be heard,
so that, allowing for preparation and thanksgiving, and the Mass and discourse,
the function of the First Communion was a matter of hours. Dominic had been the
first to arrive to offer his salutation to God; he was the last to retire after
his thanksgiving. The whole period had been for him one of abstraction from
things of earth, and of contact with the things of heaven. Later on, when any
reference was made to his First Communion day, his face would light up with
joy, as he exclaimed: "That was indeed a day of happy remembrances for
me:" It was a sort of re-commencement of a life which might serve as a
model to all. In his little book of devotions he wrote down some resolutions,
which I have been able to transcribe with all their original and direct
simplicity, and their introduction in diary form:
"Resolutions
made by me, Dominic Savio, in the year 1849, on the day of my First Communion,
at the age of seven.
1.
I will go to Confession often, and as frequently to Holy Communion as my
confessor allows.
2. I wish to sanctify the Sundays and festivals in a special manner.
3. My friends shall be Jesus and Mary.
4. Death rather than sin.
2. I wish to sanctify the Sundays and festivals in a special manner.
3. My friends shall be Jesus and Mary.
4. Death rather than sin.
These
resolutions were not simply written out and then put carefully away; he read
them very often, and they were a guide to him throughout his life. If among the
readers of this little work there should chance to be some who are yet to make
their First Communion, I would strongly urge them to follow young Savio as
their model. But in particular, fathers and mothers, and those who exercise any
authority over the young, should attach the greatest importance to this
religious act; for a First Communion that is well made constitutes a solid
moral foundation for the whole future life; and it would be indeed surprising
if this solemn act, when worthily performed, did not result in a virtuous life.
On the other hand, great numbers of young people are met with, who are the
despair of their parents and of those who interest themselves in them;the root
of this evil is generally found to lie in the fact, that their preparation for
First Communion was carelessly conducted, or in great part neglected. It would
be better to delay it, or even not to make it at all, than that it should be
made badly.
CHAPTER
IV. DOMINIC'S SCHOOL CAREER AT CASTELNUOVO D'ASTI. TRIALS AND DIFFICULTIES. HIS
TREATMENT OF EVIL COUNSEL. HIS MASTER'S ENCOMIUM.
AS
his early studies were now completed, Dominic should have been sent away to a
higher school for more advanced classes, which a small country place could not
provide. He was very desirous that this should be arranged, and his parents
were greatly in favour of it, but their condition did not allow of the
realisation of such ambitious plans. Divine Providence, however, intended to
provide the means, so that the boy might attain the end appointed for him. Dominic
had often said in his playful manner: "If I were a bird I should like to
fly every morning to Castelnuovo d'Asti so as to go on with my studies." His
eager desire to continue his studies made overcome all difficulties, and it was
arranged that he should attend the Municipal schools, although they were two
miles away from his home. He had to walk there and back; he was not yet ten
years of age, and all the variations of weather, both for summer and winter,
had to be put up with; but all difficulties were to be overcome; Dominic was
satisfied that he was thus performing an act of obedience to his parents which
meant advancing in the science of the Saints, and this appeared to him more
than enough reason for putting up with any inconvenience. One day an elderly
person saw Dominic going along the road, about two o'clock in the afternoon,
under a broiling sun, and, meaning to give him a little encouragement, said to
him: "Are you not afraid to go so far alone?" "I am not
alone," said Dominic, "I have my angel guardian with me, accompanying
every step." "But surely you find the journey long and tiresome in
this very hot weather." "Nothing seems tiresome or painful when you
are working for a master who pays well." "And who is your
master?" "It is God, our Creator, who rewards even a cup of cold
water given for love of Him." This little incident was related by the
person who had the conversation with Dominic, and he concludes by saying:
"A boy who has such thoughts in his head, when he is only ten years old,
is certainly destined for some great career." At school Dominic soon found
how to distinguish between desirable companions and those whose influence was
bad. If he noticed one who was diligent and respectful, who knew his lessons
well, and always worked hard, Dominic sought his companionship; an unruly,
insolent boy, or one who neglected his work, he left severely alone. He was
always kindly in his manner towards them, and seized any opportunity of doing
them a little service, but he took care not to become intimate with them. His
conduct at the higher school of Castelnuovo d'Asti might serve as a model to
any young student who desires to advance in knowledge and virtue. For this
reason, the account given by his master is useful and noteworthy. He says:
"I
very willingly send you an account of Dominic Savio, because in a very short
time he gained a high place in my estimation and affection, and because I still
have a vivid recollection of his excellent behaviour, his zeal in good works
and his many virtues. I cannot say much about the performance of his religious
duties, for he attended the parish church of his own district, which was two or
three miles from the school; for that reason he did not belong to our
confraternity, though he was just the sort of boy we should have been glad to
admit. He came to this school as soon as his elementary course was over,
beginning on the feast of St. Aloysius, June 21st, 1852. That was, in itself, a
little extraordinary, for the great patron of young students found no more
devoted follower than Dominic. He was gentle in appearance and manner, and had
an air about him of mingled gravity and affability. His disposition was always
marked, by calmness and good nature; both in school and out of it, his conduct
was such as to produce a most agreeable impression, and for me to deal with him
in the course of his school work was like a reward for the many fatigues so
often to be endured in the training of boys, who are often dull and not eager
for lessons. Hence it may very well be said that he was Savio (wise), not only
in name, but in fact, viz., in his studies, in piety, in conversation and his
dealing with others, and in all his actions. From the day he entered the school
to the end of that scholastic year, and during the four months of the next year
that he spent with us, his progress in his studies was little short of
phenomenal. He speedily gained the first place in his class, and the other
honours of the school, and invariably got full marks for the subjects which were
examined from time to time. These eminently successful results must be
attributed to his exceptional abilities and to his love of study and virtue. Deserving
also of special praise was his exactness in every duty, no matter how trivial,
and his constant attendance at the classes, in spite of all difficulties and of
his long walk to the school. He was by no means a robust or vigorous boy, and
this going to and from school, a distance of nearly three miles each way, would
in itself be ample proof of his assiduity in his studies. But during that year,
1852-1853, he showed signs of weakness and general failing health, so that his
parents decided on a change of abode. I was disappointed at losing so promising
a pupil, too whom I had become attached, but I had expected to lose him, for I
had seen that his delicate constitution was beginning to give way under the
strain; and when I heard later on that he was to go to the Oratory at Turin, I
was quite satisfied, as I knew he would there have the opportunity for the
cultivation of his rare intellect and piety." Such is the account given by
the master of his class.
CHAPTER
V. DOMINIC'S SCHOOL-LIFE AT MONDONIO. HIS CONDUCT UNDER A CALUMNIOUS CHARGE.
IT
would seem that Divine Providence had designed to make it clear to Dominic that
this world is truly a land of exile, where, like pilgrims, we are always moving
from place to place; or it may have been that it was in order to make him known
in several districts, that his virtues might be displayed in each. As has been
mentioned, it was towards the close of the year 1852 that Dominic's parents
found that their boy's health would necessitate another change of abode, and
this time they went to Mondonio, a village not far away from Castelnuovo. Here
again we find that nothing but the most edifying reports are given of Dominic.
It will not be necessary to quote a full account given by his master at
Mondonio, for it repeats the good points mentioned by his former master at
Murialdo. Attention will be drawn only to certain facts of particular
importance. The priest in question, writes: "I can state, without
hesitation, that during my twenty years experience with boys I never met one to
equal Savio in frank and genuine piety. He was gifted, with a wisdom beyond his
years; and his diligence, application and affability, made him a favourite both
with masters and companions. When I noticed him in church his recollection was
such as to fill me with wonder; his manner and attitude suggested the thought:
"Here is an innocent soul to whom the delights of heaven are opened, and
who by his piety soars aloft to the company of the angels in Heaven." The
following incident is worthy of special record: "One day a serious offence
had been committed by certain pupils of mine, and the guilty ones, when found,
were to be expelled. The culprits thought out several expedients in order to
escape the punishment, and at last settled on the plan of accusing Dominic of
the offence. I very naturally refused entirely to believe that Dominic would be
capable of any such thing, but the story and accusation were so skilfully put
together, that it had all the semblance of truth and conviction. When I entered
the school in the morning, prepared to deal with the matter, I was in an
indignant frame of mind, and spoke in general terms to the class. Then I turned
to Savio and spoke very severely to him, telling him that he deserved to be
expelled, and it was only because it was the first offence he had been guilty
of, that he would not be sent away; but that if ever the like occurred again,
expulsion would certainly follow. Dominic might have very easily shown that he
was entirely innocent, but he made no reply. He hung down his head, as one who
was deservedly reproved, and made no attempt at clearing his character. But it
is seldom God's way to let the innocent remain under the cloud of calumny, and
on the very next day the culprits were discovered. Deeply regretting now the
harsh terms of the reproof I had made to the boy, I sent for him and said:
"Why did you not tell me that you had had nothing to do with it?" He
replied in his usual candid manner: "I knew that the guilty boy was
already under threat of expulsion for other things, but I hoped to be forgiven,
since it was the first act of misconduct ever imputed to me at school. I also
remembered that Our Lord had been unjustly accused:" At this reply I was
silent; I somehow felt that there was nothing more to be said; not only the
masters, but the whole school admired this act of generous resignation to
suffering and insult on behalf of others, especially at the risk of being
humiliated and disgraced.
CHAPTER
VI. MY FIRST MEETING WITH DOMINIC SAVIO. SOME CURIOUS INCIDENTS CONNECTED WITH
IT.
THE
matter contained in the following chapters is based upon more personal and
complete evidence, for almost all the incidents occurred under my own notice,
and also in the presence of a large number of boys who are unanimous in their
attestation of them. It was in 1854 that Fr. Cugliero, the priest who relates
the incidents mentioned in the foregoing chapter, came to see me about a pupil
of his. "Here in your Oratory," he said, "there might possibly
be boys equal to him, but I can safely assert that there is none to excel him;
in fact you find him to be another St. Aloysius." At that time I used to
take my boys occasionally to Murialdo. It was a little country place, where a
short time was spent for the benefit of enjoying the country air and open life;
and there we usually made the Novena in preparation for, and celebrated the Feast
of the Holy Rosary. It was accordingly arranged that while I was at Murialdo,
Dominic should be brought over from Mondonio to see me.
lt
was therefore at Murialdo, on the first Monday in October 1864, that I became
acquainted with Dominic Savio. He was accompanied by his father, and as they
came up to speak to me, I noticed his pleasant, but respectful manner, and
something in his demeanour fixed my attention upon him. When he came up I put a
question to him, to which he answered: "I am the boy of whom Fr. Cugliero
has spoken to you. I have come with my father from Mondonio." We walked
together and I questioned him about his studies, and his desires for the
future, and we were immediately on the most friendly and confidential terms. I
may say that I at once recognised a boy after God's own heart, and I could not
help being struck by the workings of grace, already manifest in one of such
tender years. After some minutes conversation, and before I could turn aside to
speak to his father, he said to me: "Well, what do you think of the
matter; will you take me to Turin to study?" I replied that I thought
there was very good material to work upon. "And what do you think you can
make of it?" Seeing that he fully grasped my meaning I said: "Something
beautiful and acceptable to God." To this he replied: "Then I must be
the material and you are to fashion it; take me with you therefore."
"But," I said, "I am afraid that your delicate health would not
stand the strain of much study." "I don't think we need fear on that
point," he said. "God's given me health and every assistance till
now, and He will surely help me in the future." I then asked him what he
thought of doing when his preliminary course was finished. To this he replied:
"If I could hope for such a favour from God, I ardently desire to become a
priest." "Very well," I replied; "now I want to see whether
you are able to learn quickly; take this little book and study this page of it;
tomorrow I shall see if you know it. I then sent him to see the other boys and
to join in their games, while I talked to his father. But a little surprise
awaited me, for hardly ten minutes had elapsed when Dominic came back, and said
with his usual pleasant manner: "If you like I will recite that page to
you now." I took the book in some astonishment, and this only increased
when he recited the page by heart, and could explain any passage in it.
"Well done," I said, "as you have anticipated your lesson, I
shall anticipate my answer. I will take you to Turin and you will be one of my
chosen boys; you must pray that God will help both you and me to do His Holy
Will." Not knowing how to express his great gratitude he took my hand, and
said: "I hope my behaviour will never give you cause for complaint."
CHAPTER
VII. DOMINIC COMES TO THE ORATORY OF ST. FRANCIS OF SALES. HIS MANNER OF LIFE.
NOTHING
is more characteristic of youth than its tendency to changeableness. A decision
is taken on a certain thing today, tomorrow all will be changed; there may be
virtue in a heroic degree one day, but on the next the opposite may manifest
itself; and this is where there is need of guidance and firmness in education,
lest unhappy results should follow. There was no sign whatever of this in
Dominic. All the virtues seemed to grow together in him and he was able to
practice them all in combination. Directly he came to the Oratory, he came to
my room, in order to place himself, as he said, entirely in the hands of his
Director. He at once caught sight of an inscription which bore the favourite
words of .St. Francis of Sales: "Da mihi animas, caetera tolle." He
began to read it attentively, and I desired him to grasp the meaning. So I
helped him to make it out, the translation being: "Give me souls; take
away everything else!" "He seemed to reflect a moment, and then he
said: "I think I understand; here the aim is not to gain money, but to win
souls, and I hope that my soul will be included in the number." His mode
of life was just the routine life of school work; and at first there was
nothing extraordinary to remark, beyond his scrupulous observance of every
rule. At study or any other duty, he was at once diligent and zealous.
Convinced that the Word of God is the guide to Heaven, he was particularly
attentive to instructions and sermons, and from them he gathered maxims and
rules of conduct which formed his constant guide. He always made a point of
asking for explanations of difficulties, and thus he was able to make continual
progress in virtue, and in exactness in the performance of his duties, so that
it would be difficult to go beyond the excellence he attained. He had already
requested the favour of having his faults pointed out, so that his conduct
towards all became equally praiseworthy; he was very apt at noticing what
should be avoided in the conduct of a companion, and what should be imitated,
and Dominic chose his companions accordingly. The year 1854 was drawing rapidly to its
close. It was a memorable year throughout the Catholic World, for all were
awaiting the declaration of the Dogma of the Immaculate Conception. We, at the
Oratory, were preparing to celebrate the occasion with due solemnity, and
endeavouring to draw some spiritual advantage from it. Savio was one of those
who felt a desire to celebrate the great day in the manner most acceptable to
Our Lady. He wrote out on nine pieces of paper an act of virtue to be practised
every day of the Novena, drawing out one each day. These he faithfully put into
practice, and approached the Sacraments with great devotion. On the evening of
December 8th, Dominic knelt before the Altar of Our Lady, and, with the
approval of his Confessor, renewed the promises made at his First Communion,
begging particularly that he might be faithful to the last of the four,
repeating his petition several times. Strengthened thus in fervour by his
recourse to the Immaculate Mother of God, his conduct appeared so edifying, and
included such acts of virtue, that I began to note them down so as not to let
them be forgotten. Coming now to describe the particular doings of the boy I
find that I am confronted with quite an array of events and virtuous actions
deserving of mention. For the sake of greater clearness I propose to group
together certain incidents which deal with one phase or one particular matter,
rather than to adhere to a strict chronological sequence.
CHAPTER
VIII. HIS STUDIES AT THE ORATORY. HIS CONDUCT AT SCHOOL. HIS DEALINGS WITH
QUARRELS AND SPECIAL DANGERS.
HAVING
already laid a good foundation at Mondonio for the study of Latin, and owing to
his powers of application and exceptional talent, Dominic was soon raised to
the fourth class, which, according to present scholastic arrangements, would
correspond to the second course of Latin grammar. During this course he was one
of the pupils of Professor Bonzanino, for at that time classes for students
were not yet conducted at the Oratory itself. Were I to speak here of his
conduct, of the advancement he made, of his exemplary behaviour, I should have
to repeat what his previous masters said of him. I shall therefore restrict
myself to relating some incidents which were noted down during this period by
those who were closely associated with him. The Professor himself often said
that he could not recollect ever having had a pupil more attentive, more
respectful than young Savio, for he was quite a model in everything. There was
never any affectation about his manner or appearance; he was always careful and
courteous, so that his companions, many of whom were drawn from good families,
were anxious to become friendly and to converse with him. If the professor
noticed a pupil who was restless and troublesome, he contrived to put him near
Dominic, who, in his own tactful way, was sure to get him to keep silence, and
apply himself to study or the work then in hand. It is during this year that
the record of Dominic's life gives us an incident full of heroism, and which is
the more remarkable when his youth is taken into consideration, for he was only
fourteen when he came to the Oratory. The occurrence in question concerns two
of his school fellows, between whom a fierce quarrel had arisen, on account of
some remarks on a point of family honour. The quarrel proceeded from the
exchanging of insults to the giving of blows and stone throwing. Dominic came
to hear of this quarrel, but he saw the difficulty of trying to interfere, for
both boys were older and bigger than he was. However he found means for
approaching each in turn, urged them to give up their hatred, and pointed out
that anger and revenge were against the commandments of God; he wrote to each
of them, threatening to acquaint their parents and their master, but the
headstrong boys were not to be influenced; their minds had become so embittered
that all entreaties were in vain. Apart from the risk of bodily injury to
themselves, Dominic was most concerned with the offence against God, and he was
eager to find some means of effectually interfering, but was perplexed as to
the manner of doing so. He then seemed to have an inspiration. He waited for
the boys after school, and contriving to speak to each alone, he said:
"Since you will persist in this insane and sinful quarrel I ask you to
accept one condition." Each agreed, provided it did not interfere with
their challenge of a fight with stones, and indulged in some very unbecoming
language in reference to his enemy. The very language was enough to make Savio
shudder, but desirous of preventing a greater evil he said: "The condition
I wish to impose does not interfere with the challenge: "Then what is it?"
"I shall not tell you till you meet for the duel." They thought he
was making game of them, but Savio insisted that he was quite serious and that
he would be on the scene. Neither could conjecture what his plan was. The place
for the fight was a lonely spot outside the town. The boys, getting more and
more incensed, were almost going to fight on the way, but Dominic managed to
prevent them. The scene of action was reached, and the boys took up their
positions at a little distance from each other, and had by them the stones they
were to hurl. Now was Dominic's time for mediation. He stepped in the middle
and said: "Before you commence to fight you must fulfil the condition you
agreed upon." So saying he drew out of his coat pocket a crucifix and held
it up in the air. "I desire," he said, "that each of you should
look on this crucifix, and then if you will throw, you must throw the stone at
me and say: "Our Saviour died pardoning his very persecutioners; I, a
sinner, am about to offend Him by an act of open revenge." Having said
this, he threw himself on his knees before the one who seemed most enraged, and
said: "Throw your stone at me; let me have the first blow." A shiver
seemed to go through the boy thus addressed. "No," he exclaimed,
"I couldn't do it. I am not so mean as that. I have nothing against
you." On hearing this Dominic turned to the other boy, who had been
watching in amazement, and made the same proposal to him. He too refused such a
cowardly act. Then Dominic got up and said, with great earnestness: "You are
both ashamed to commit this act of brutality against me; and yet you would
commit it against God and lose your soul by grievous sin." And he held up
the crucifix again. This proved too much for the two boys; they were moved by
his true Christian charity and his courage. One of them confessed that he felt
a cold shiver, and felt thoroughly ashamed that he had forced a friend of
Savio's character to take such extreme measures. Wishing to make him some
amends, he forgave entirely the boy with whom he had quarrelled and promised to
go to Confession at once. Thus Dominic secured a victory for charity and taught
the boys a lesson. Is it too striking an act of courage to recommend for
example to young school boys? This incident would have remained a profound secret,
had it not been related by both boys who were the partners to the challenge.It
will be gathered from this incident that Dominic had gained great influence
over his companions, but he often had to put up with annoyance from some who
tried to draw him into undesirable practices. On one occasion in fact he had
almost consented to go off with some boys, who wished him to join them at play
instead of going to school, but the arguments against it arose so vividly
before him, that he not only rejected the proposal for himself, but convinced
the others that it would be wrong, and made them go with him to school. At the
end of that year he was among the very best of those who were promoted to a
higher class, but when his next year began there were already signs that his
health would need careful attention, and it was thought more prudent to let him
have some private teaching at the Oratory, where intervals of rest and fewer
tasks could be given him. Under this arrangement his health seemed to improve a
good deal, so that he was again sent out to the higher classes in the town,
this time to Professor Picco, who was held in the highest estimation as a
teacher. Several interesting facts are recorded of this year of rhetoric, and
they will be related in their turn as the narrative proceeds.
CHAPTER
IX. DOMINIC FORMS THE RESOLUTION OF STRIVING AFTER PERFECTION.
IN
the above chapters we have considered Dominic as a student going through his
scholastic course, and have insisted principally on his talents and industry. His
spiritual advancement was of even greater importance in his eyes. Savio had
been at the Oratory for six months when he heard a sermon delivered there on an
easy method of arriving at the perfection of the saints. The preacher brought
out particularly these three points that impressed themselves deeply on Savio's
mind: first, that it was God's will that we should become perfect; secondly,
that it was easy to become so; thirdly, that an exceeding great reward is laid
up for those who arrive at perfection. The effect of the sermon on Dominic was
to set his heart aglow with love of God. For some days he was extraordinarily
quiet, so that his companions began to remark it, and I noticed it myself. I
began to think that his health was commencing to give way again, so I
questioned him about it. His answer was put very quaintly: "If I am
suffering at all," he said, "it is from something beneficial." I
asked him to explain: he replied that he had been thinking over the sermon and
was seized with the desire of becoming a saint; that it now appeared to him
much easier than he had thought, and asked for some special guidance in regard
to his behaviour. I very naturally praised his good intentions, but pointed out
that it would not be beneficial for him to be disturbed and uneasy about it,
for in such disquiet of soul the voice of God could not be heard. I told him he
should be always happy and cheerful, to be exact in the practices of piety and
his other duties, and to take his recreation regularly with his companions. One
day I told him I wished to make him a little present, but that I left the
choice of it to him. "I do not desire anything else," he replied,
"but to become perfect; if I do not obtain that I shall be fit for
nothing." On another occasion we were discussing the etymology of names,
and he put the question: "What does Dominic mean?" Some one answered:
"Belonging to God:" "See then," he promptly replied,
"if I was not right in saying that I ought to become a saint; even my very
name says that I belong to God; therefore it shall be my constant endeavour to
become a saint." These and similar words on other occasions may seem
extraordinary in so young a boy, but Dominic meant them in all seriousness; and
his use of them, just referred to, was not because he was not leading a holy
life; on the contrary; but it was because he wished to undertake penances, and
remain for hours in prayer, things which his superiors decided were not
suitable for his years or health, or his occupations.
CHAPTER
X. ZEAL FOR THE SALVATION OF SOULS.
THE chief recommendation given to Dominic, to help him to attain perfection, was to endeavour to gain souls to God, for no action is more meritorious than to co-operate in the salvation of souls, for which Our Divine Saviour shed His Precious Blood. Dominic had a particular intuition of the importance of this good work, and on several occasions he said: "If I could help to gain my companions to God, what a happiness it would be!" It was on this principle that he never let any occasion go by of doing something to this end, and accordingly he frequently gave friendly advice or warning to those of the boys whose conduct was not approved of. He had a particular horror of anything in the nature of blasphemy or taking the name of God in vain; in fact, it worked upon him to such a degree that his health was quite affected by it. If he heard any words of that nature, as he passed along the streets, he would look down as though in sorrow, and make some pious ejaculation. A companion had often noticed him raise his cap and utter a few words of prayer when these blasphemies had been uttered. On another occasion, as he returned from school to the Oratory, he heard an elderly man utter some very blasphemous words. Dominic shuddered, and immediately offered up his pious ejaculation is reparation. But he was satisfied neither, nor disposed to let it pass. Summoning all his courage, and not at all affected by human respect, he went up to the man and asked him to direct him to the Oratory. The boy's gentle manner immediately softened the man's anger, and he replied, very affably: "No, I am sorry, I don't know where it is." "Then there is another favour you can do me," said Dominic. "Oh, what is it?" The boy then came nearer and said in a low voice, only audible to the man in question: "It would be a great pleasure to me, if, when you are angry again, you would use words that are not blasphemous." The man was naturally astonished at such a request from a boy, but there was something of admiration in his suprise; he replied: "Well done, you are right, it is a very bad habit, that I am determined to overcome." But Dominic's manner with young offenders was different. He once heard two little boys quarrelling at their games outside the house, and one of them in his boyish anger used the Holy Name. Dominic was pained, as he always was when this occurred, so he stepped between the two boys and made them patch up their quarrel. Then he turned to the one that he had heard utter the name of God and said to him: "Come with me, there is something to be done, with which you will be pleased." He took him off to a church, near by, and both went up to the altar. There he made the boy kneel down and ask pardon for his profane use of the Holy Name. The boy did not know the act of contrition, so Dominic made him say it after him, and added to it some pious ejaculations, to atone for the irreverence offered to God. Pursuing the same plan, Dominic made himself acquainted chiefly with the lives of those Saints who had spent their lives in the salvation of souls. A favourite topic with him was the missionary life, and what missionaries were actually undertaking at that time; and as it was impossible for him to help them materially, he offered daily prayers for their welfare, and at least one Communion a week. Strangely enough I have often heard him exclaim: "How many souls there are in England awaiting our assistance; there is nothing would please me more, had I the strength and virtue, than to go there and help, by preaching and good works, to gain them to Jesus Christ." He frequently lamented the lack of zeal in this direction, and also as regards the proper instruction of children in the truths of the Faith. It was his idea, that as soon as he was a cleric, he would go back to Mondonio, gather the children together, and teach them their catechism and to lead good lives. And he gave practical proof of this, for he often taught catechism in the church of the Oratory, and if any boy was backward, or had been neglected in regard to his religion, Dominic was always glad to take him in hand to instruct him, and prepare him for the Sacraments. This of course could not be carried on without remarks from those who thought his zeal was out of place, and that such things should only be mentioned in church. A companion rebuked him once for talking on the life of some Saint in recreation time, and asked him why he did so. Dominic's answer was so full of genuine zeal for the good of souls, which, he remarked, had been redeemed with a great price, that it made a deep impression on those around. During the intervals he spent at home for the holidays, Dominic put this zeal of his into practical effect; for he would gather other boys around him—and he had quite a gift for attracting them—and by conversations and stories he gave them good instruction and counsel, He also took home several objects of piety from the Oratory, and distributed them judiciously by way of rewards among these companions. It was therefore quite customary for several to accompany him to Mass and the Sacraments, and this good work had a lasting effect. During these holidays he was brought into contact with many people of all ages and conditions, for Dominic's manner had an attraction for all; and to all of them, in one way or another, he was the means of some spiritual advantage. No wonder that his reputation began to spread, even at that time. Dominic's guiding motto was, that no occasion for doing good to souls, or of offering some little act of reparation to God, should be missed; and this accounts for his constant zeal, and his visits to the Blessed Sacrament, in which he generally managed to be accompanied by a friend or some one he wished to bring to a better life.
CHAPTER
XI. VARIOUS INCIDENTS. HIS ATTRACTIVE MANNER WITH HIS COMPANIONS.
ALTHOUGH
Dominic, as we have seen, was imbued with the desire to do good to souls, it
did not, as some mistaken people might imagine, tend to make him melancholy or
mournful. On the contrary, he was the life of the recreation time, though he
very wisely knew how to turn every opportunity to account. When others had
something to say or a story to tell, he never interrupted or criticised; but
when conversation flagged, he had an inexhaustible fund of entertaining
information and anecdotes which were highly interesting to his companies. He
knew just when to seize the opportunity of speaking, if it were necessary to
deal with grumbling or murmuring, or something not approved of. His manner was
so cheerful and attractive that he counted among his companions even those who
were least disposed to piety, or were of an opposite nature to his own, and
they always took in good part whatever insinuation or hint he might give them. Once
when the boys were at play in an open space, a man came up and joined in the
conversation. He was amusing at first, and had a story or two that suited the
curiosity of young people. But when he had made himself at home a little; he
went on to speak of religious subjects and priests and the like, and treated
them with ridicule and disrespect. Many of the boys noticed the change in his
conversation and went off to play; others stayed on. But then Dominic arrived.
He stopped for a moment to listen, but immediately saw what the man was about,
and without any hesitation said to the boys round him: "Don't stay here
listening to such a degraded man; he is only trying to corrupt souls." The
boys were accustomed to Dominic's influence in regard to such things, and all
moved away, leaving the man alone. The latter retired discomfited, and never
tried his persuasive arts in that neighbourhood again. This influence of
Dominic's gradually increased, so that he could usually persuade the boys
against any course in which he saw that evil might lurk. There was at the
Oratory, at the time, a little society composed of the better and more able
boys, who endeavoured to check any wrongdoing amongst the rest, and to deal
with any unruly ones amongst them. Savio belonged to it and played a foremost
part in it. Whatever little presents came to him he reserved them to add weight
to his persuasion. Sometimes he would seize an opportunity in the games, when a
boy on whom he had designs was a partner of his, to ask him to promise to go to
Confession with him on the following Saturday. As Saturday usually seemed a
long way off, the boy generally consented; but Dominic did not let him forget
it, and when Saturday came he would take the boy off to church, as pleased with
the success of his little ruse as a sportsman is in securing his prize. In this
way it often happened that a boy, on whom a hundred sermons would be lost,
would at once succumb to some novel method invented by Dominic's zeal for
souls. However, it occasionally happened, that on the appointed day, the boy
who had promised to accompany him to Confession, would be missing. As soon as
Dominic saw him again he would say: "Ah, you disappointed me; you didn't
keep your promise." The boy would bring forward some excuse, but he was
never able to convince Dominic, who easily explained to the boy that he had been
caught in one of the devil's tricks for putting off Confession. He would then
go on to show him how happy he would be afterwards if he made a good
Confession, and get him to make another promise. It always happened that these
boys would go to Dominic afterwards and tell him how glad they were for having
followed his advice, and that they would go frequently to the Sacraments in
future. It is a common thing, that among a great number of boys, a few are left
more or less severely alone, whether on account of their peculiar character, or
of some defect, or something uninviting about them; sometimes, too, these are
the object of the ridicule and torment of their companions, and are sorely in
need of a friend. Dominic was always on the look out for these. He was frequently
in their company, entertaining them in one way or another. Others, who through
ignorance or neglect, were disposed to be mischevious or bad, Dominic took in
hand, and always brought them to a better frame of mind. With the sick again he
was in great demand; so that in one way or another Savio was a real apostle and
put into practice his great ideal of drawing souls to God.
CHAPTER
XII. HIS SPIRIT OF PRAYER. HIS DEVOTION TO THE HOLY MOTHER OF GOD. THE MONTH OF
MAY.
DOMINIC
was evidently endowed with special gifts from God, and among them was his
assiduity and fervour in prayer. It seemed to be part of his very nature to
converse with God, and no matter where he was, or what noises or games might be
going on around him, his recollection was never disturbed, and his ejaculations
were none the less frequent. At the general prayers of the boys, his manner can
only be described as that of an angel; his attitude was devotion itself; he
never seemed to want to rest even his elbows, but, kneeling, and with hands
joined, his eyes cast down, he gave himself up to communing with God. To look
at him thus was to be edified. In 1854 the Count Cays was elected President of
the Sodality of St. Aloysius, that was established at the Oratory. The first
time he was present at the functions of the Sodality, he saw a boy at prayer
with such an air of rapt devotion, that he was immediately struck by him. He
inquired about him afterwards, and of course, it was our young friend. Dominic
always managed to spend some part of his recreation in the chapel, generally
getting a companion to go in with him, though he need not stay as long as
Dominic did. His devotion to Our Blessed Lady was like a burning fire within
him. Every day he practised some act of mortification in her honour. Attracted
by her heavenly beauty he had no desire of gazing on things of earthly mould,
and the thought of her purity and modesty prevented him from taking interest in
the ordinary entertaining sights of the town which so much attract the average
boy. This abstraction or deep recollection, when out in the streets, was
frequently remarked upon by his companions, and he generally explained it by
saying that he was thinking of something far more interesting in connection
with Our Lady and Heaven. To her he offered special devotions in the course of
the day, particularly on Friday, in honour of the seven dolours, and he placed
his own purity of soul in the keeping of that immaculate Virgin. It was
therefore a natural development that he should be carried away with special
fervour during the month of May. There were always extra services in the church
for the benefit of the public, and the boys took part in them. But Dominic was
not satisfied with that. He arranged with certain companions to perform extra
devotions every day, and he prepared a stock of examples and anecdotes
concerning the devotion to Our Lady; with the aid of these he urged not a few
boys to make an effort to celebrate the month with fervour. Needless to say, he
received Holy Communion every day during that period and was a shining example
to all those that came in contact with him. A little incident is told in
connection with this month. It was proposed by someone that a little altar
should be erected in the dormitory to which Dominic belonged, and a collection
was made all round for contributions towards its expense. Savio found himself
among the number of boys who had no pocket money at the time; yet it was not to
be thought of that he should be out of the contribution to so good a cause. He
soon conceived a plan. He had among his books one that was of some value, which
he had received as a prize. He proposed that this should be sold and the
proceeds given to the altar. Others thought they would adopt the same plan;
they accordingly got together a few of their things that might be desirable in
the eyes of companions, and arranged to have a sort of lottery. Purchasers were
soon found, and the result was ample for the decoration of the altar. Its
adornment was to be done after night-prayers, by special permission—but Dominic
was expressly advised to go to bed, as he had not been well of late; he obeyed,
but it was quite a sacrifice for him to be deprived of doing something that he
thought tended directly to the honour of her, of whom he was one of the most
devout clients.
CHAPTER
XIII. HIS FREQUENTATION AND DEVOUT RECEPTION OF THE SACRAMENTS.
THE
confirmed experience of those who have assisted in the spiritual training or
the general education of the young is, that the Sacraments of Confession and
Holy Communion are the best safeguards and the strongest supports for that
critical period of their life. If you can show me a boy who frequently receives
the Holy Sacraments, it will be enough to convince me that he will pass through
the years of youth, reach the age of manhood and maturity, and, if God so
disposes, arrive at a venerable old age, and all during that time will be an
example to those who know him. This should be impressed upon the young so that
they may form this excellent habit: it should be seriously considered and
grasped by all who share in the education of the young, so that they may assist
them to put it into practice. Apart from certain establishments, few in number,
it was not usual in the time we are treating of, for children or adults to go
frequently to the Sacraments, and so Dominic Savio had only been accustomed to
go once a month to Confession and Communion before he came to the Oratory. But
from that time he began to go more often. In fact it had been stated in the
pulpit of the Oratory Chapel, that if the boys were really desirous of walking
in the path of virtue, and persevering in it, they should practise three
things: to go regularly to the Sacrament of Penance; to approach the Holy Table
very frequently; to open their heart freely to their confessor. Dominic had
noted down these counsels, for in such things he had a special knowledge of
what was important. He chose his confessor, and only had the one during his
stay at the Oratory. In order to make quite sure that everything was correct,
and to form a right estimation of his conscience, he made a general confession.
Then he began to go every fortnight, and then weekly. His habit of monthly
Communion was soon altered to a weekly one, and then to several times a week,
and then to a daily one. At one time he seemed to become scrupulous and wished
to confess oftener, but his confessor forbade him to go more than once a week,
and he adhered to this direction. But in this confessor he had the utmost
confidence, and opened his whole soul to him. Even out of confession he often
consulted him about the affairs of his soul, and in regard to a change of
confessor he very acutely said: "The confessor is the soul's physician.
You do not change your doctor unless he proves unworthy of your confidence, or
unable to deal with your complaint. Neither of these cases applies to me. I
have entire confidence in my confessor, and I do not know of any diseases of
the soul that he cannot cure." However, this confessor directed him to go
to another priest from time to time, especially at the monthly exercises for a
good death; and the boy did so. In these matters, indeed, he had special gifts.
He used to say that he could not possibly be in need of spiritual comfort or
strength;for he got all the guidance he required from his confessor, and all
the desires of his soul were satisfied in the delights of Holy Communion;
nothing could be added to his happiness, until it was time for him to be
admitted to the unveiled presence of Our Lord, whom he now beheld on the Altar
with the eyes of Faith. It was this frame of mind that conduced to Dominic's
perpetual calm and cheerfulness, and the special joy that seemed to accompany
his daily life. However, it must not be imagined for a moment that he was not
observant in the extreme, lest anything should prevent his being prepared to go
daily to the Holy Sacrament; on the contrary, his conduct was on all occasions
singularly without blemish. I have questioned those who were with him during
his three years amongst us, and who lived the same student's life with him, and
not one of them could, after due reflection, bring forward any defect or
negligence, or suggest any virtue in which he was lacking; and yet boys have a
high standard when judging of such things in their companions. In regard to his
actual reception of Holy Communion, he used to say a special prayer of
preparation the night before. In the morning he prepared with the other boys
during Mass, and with his own particular devotion; but his thanksgiving cannot
be said to have ever terminated. It was quite an ordinary occurrence, that, if
not specially called or aroused, he would not remember breakfast time or even
school time, remaining in prayer, or rather in a sort of contemplation and
adoration of the goodness of Our Divine Lord, who communicates with souls in
His own ineffable manner. If he could spend an hour during the day in the
presence of the Blessed Sacrament, it was his utmost delight; but he always
found time for a visit every day, and got someone to go with him if possible.
His favourite prayers were a series of acts in reparation to the Sacred Heart
of Jesus; they were a well known devotional practice, and to be found in most
prayerbooks; in order that his communions might be more fruitful and
meritorious, and that there might be a motive of renewed fervour every day, he
always had a definite intention in view. His intentions were thus distributed
over the week:
SUNDAY.—In
honour of the Blessed Trinity.
MONDAY.—For the welfare of spiritual and temporal benefactors.
TUESDAY.—In honour of my Patron Saint, Saint Dominic, and of my Guardian Angel.
WEDNESDAY.—In honour of Our Lady's Seven Dolours, for the conversion of sinners.
THURSDAY.—For the Souls in Purgatory.
FRIDAY.—In honour of the Sacred Passion of Christ.
SATURDAY.—In honour of Our Lady, to obtain her protection in life and death.
MONDAY.—For the welfare of spiritual and temporal benefactors.
TUESDAY.—In honour of my Patron Saint, Saint Dominic, and of my Guardian Angel.
WEDNESDAY.—In honour of Our Lady's Seven Dolours, for the conversion of sinners.
THURSDAY.—For the Souls in Purgatory.
FRIDAY.—In honour of the Sacred Passion of Christ.
SATURDAY.—In honour of Our Lady, to obtain her protection in life and death.
Whatever
devotions were practised in honour of the Blessed Sacrament, he took part in
them with eager joy and delight; and would accompany the priest when taking
Holy Viaticum, if he were allowed. One day a priest was passing across a muddy
street with the Blessed Sacrament, when Dominic was near. There had been a
great deal of rain and it was muddy all round. But the boy took no head of
that. He knelt in the mud and made his act of adoration. A companion
remonstrated that he need not have knelt in the mud: that God did not command
it, and did not wish him to dirty his clothes in that way. But that was not at
all Dominic's view of such things; he replied that trousers as well as knees
belonged to God; and should therefore be employed in His honour. "Whenever
I approach the Sacramental Presence," he said, "I would not only
throw myself in the mud, but even into a fiery furnace, for thus I should be
consumed with that fire of infinite charity, which moved Our Lord to institute
the Most Holy Sacrament. On another occasion he noticed that a soldier was
standing while the Blessed Sacrament was being carried by; Dominic did not like
to invite the soldier to kneel down, so he took out his handkerchief, spread it
on the ground, and made a sign that he might kneel on it. The soldier was a
little confused at this hidden rebuke, but he left the handkerchief alone and
knelt down where he was, in the middle of the street. One of Dominic's delights
was to be dressed as a cleric for the great Procession of the Blessed Sacrament
on the Feast of Corpus Christi. His whole bearing revealed the depth of his
Faith and the excess of his love.
CHAPTER
XIV. HIS MORTIFICATIONS.
IT
will be rightly conjectured that many reasons forbade that Dominic should
undertake any extraordinary penance: there was his age (he was only fourteen or
fifteen); there was his delicate health; there was the innocence of his life.
But he knew that it is difficult to maintain fervour and purity of soul without
some austerity, and this consideration made him ready for penances and
mortification; and by mortifications I do not here allude to the insults and
unpleasantness that he had to bear, or to his continual restraint over his senses,
whether in class, study or recreation. This form of penance was a habit with
him. I refer now to actual penances, painful to the body. In his fervour, and
his devotion to the Mother of God, he had resolved to fast on bread and water
every Saturday; but his confessor forbade it; he wished to fast during Lent;
but after a week it came to the knowledge of the Director of the House, and
that too was forbidden. He wished at least to do without breakfast, but
consideration for his health made it prudent to forbid that also. What then was
he to do to satisfy his desire for some bodily mortifications. As he was
forbidden to do anything that affected his food, he began to afflict his body
in other ways. He put some some sharp things into his bed, so that he might not
be able to repose in comfort: he wanted a kind of hair shirt; but all these
things were soon prohibited. He thought of something else. During the autumn
and winter he managed to escape having extra blankets for his bed, so that
during the cold of January he had only the summer coverings on his bed. This
was discovered, because, one morning he was unwell, and had to remain in bed;
and when the Director came to see him, he saw at once that he had insufficient
covering for that severe weather. "Why did you do this?" the Director
asked, "did you want to die of cold?" "Oh, I shall not die of
cold," he answered. "When in the stable at Bethlehem, or hanging on
the Cross, Our Lord had less to cover Him than I have now." He was then
forbidden to undertake any penance at all without express permission; and this
command, though difficult, was obeyed. Later on I saw that he was in some
difficulty. He said he could not reconcile the command of the Gospel to do
penance, with the prohibition he had received. "The penance God wishes
from you," I said, "is simply obedience. If you obey, that will
suffice for everything." "Can you not allow me to do some other
penance?" "The only penance you are to do, is to bear patiently all
that God sends you in this life." "But those things must be put up
with by necessity."
"Very
well," I replied, "whatever you have to suffer by necessity, offer it
to God, and it will become a virtue, and meritorious in the sight of God."
This counsel comforted his misgivings and he was never disturbed in that way
again.
CHAPTER
XV. THE MORTIFICATION OF HIS EXTERNAL SENSES.
ANY
casual observer of Dominic's outward behaviour would have thought his composure
so natural, that it must have been part of his character from birth; but those
who were intimately associated with him, and had the care of his education,
know very well that it was only gained by long and serious effort, assisted by
the grace of God. To obtain the guard he had over his eyes, he had to make so
great and constant an effort, that he once told a friend that his head often
ached in consequence of it; but the restraint he had acquired was so complete
that no one ever saw him give an unguarded glance, or indulge his sight to the
least degree. The eyes are like two windows, he would say, and it depends upon
yourself whether you admit an angel or a devil by them. One day a boy had
brought in, doubtless unthinkingly, a paper with some unbecoming pictures in
it. A group of boys gathered round to see them, and Dominic thought some sacred
pictures were being shown. So he came up to look also; but as soon as he
perceived of what nature the pictures were, he was surprised, and taking hold
of the paper he tore it into pieces. The boys stood around in silence; then he
quietly said: "Our eyes were given to see the beautiful things God has
created, and you use them to gaze on such unseemly pictures, provided by the
malice of satan for the ruin of souls. Perhaps you have forgotten what you have
so often heard, that one evil glance may stain the soul with sin; and yet you
indulge your eyes with such objects as that." Some began to make excuses,
but he easily showed them that they were but the snares of the devil, who could
draw them on to sin by these means; and in the end no reply could be made to
his arguments and recommendations. To this care of the eyes he joined
particular reserve in conversation. He never interrupted anyone who might be
speaking, and he often broke off his own sentences in the middle, if another
showed that he had something to say. His masters and associates all agree that
he was never observed to have said a single idle word, whether in class or in
study, or during the fulfilment of any duty. Even when he was the object of
unkindness or insults, he had a careful reserve over his words. One day he had
spoken to a companion about a bad habit he had contracted. The latter forgot
that this was a kindness, and answered with insults, and even struck and kicked
him. Dominic was older and bigger than the other boy, and might easily have
returned this treatment; but he sought no revenge but that of Christian
charity: at first he became red in the face, but stifling all feeling of
resentment he said: "I forgive you; you have done wrong; but do not try
that sort of behaviour on others." In regard to the mortification of all
his senses, I shall restrict myself to a few incidents. In winter-time he had a
novel way of treating his hands, for he was subject to chilblains, and these he
exposed to the cold and wet as much as he could, so as to increase their size
and painfulness; he even pricked them to make them smart the more. He thought
that he was thus imitating, in a small degree, the wounds inflicted on the
person of our Divine Lord. His companions assert that in the very cold weather
he went along slowly to school, so as to be exposed to the weather as much as
possible. Wherever there are a number of young people living together, there
are sure to be some who are ready with complaints. The arrangements of the
house, the discipline, the bed time, and such things, all form the subject of
complaint from different persons, and occasionally great disturbances are
caused. Savio was quite the opposite of this. He rejoiced if there were
something that might be taken exception to, and, particularly in his diet, he
was always satisfied and equally pleased. He was economical to a degree,
regarding the food as a gift of God, and therefore not to be despised, even in
the smallest way. He was always ready to do a service to others, particularly
to the sick, and he eagerly seized occasions for doing this, since his health
made him unable to undertake anything of a tiring nature. Little examples of
his mortification, charity, self-forgetfulness, humility, and the like, might
easily be multiplied, but these things were part of Dominic's very life, and
went to make up that perfect whole which constitutes a pleasing offering in
God's sight.
CHAPTER
XVI. THE CONFRATERNITY OF THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION.
SOMETHING
has been said above about Dominic's devotion to Our Blessed Lady, and it may be
well imagined that the circumstances of December, 1854, provided occasions for
extra fervour that were not lost upon him. On the eighth of that month the
Sovereign Pontiff defined the Dogma of Our Lady's Immaculate Conception, and
the Catholic world was filled as with a wave of devotion. Young Savio was
always practical in his manifestation of fervour. His idea was not only to
celebrate the event, but to set on foot something that might be a permanent
remembrance, and might be productive in years to come of a continual stream of
devout clients of Our Lady. He therefore set to work amongst his closest
friends, and proposed to them the formation of a sodality or association, to be
called the Sodality of the Immaculate Conception. Its object was to obtain the
special protection of Our Lady during life and particularly at the hour of
death. The means proposed were to practice and promote acts of devotion in
honour of the Mother of God, and the adoption of the practice of frequent
Communion by all members. It was to have a special rule and these were the
subject of long consideration, so that they were only in their final shape by
June 8th, 1856, about nine months before his death. These were read out by him
before the Altar of Our Lady on that day. The articles were of an exhaustive
character, twenty-one in number, providing for the regular meeting of the
members, the spiritual duties undertaken, and the means for gaining the chief
ends mentioned above. These rules were all submitted to the judgment of the
Director, and concluded with an appeal to Our Blessed Lady to assist the
associates and bless their efforts. Several of those who took part in the
formation of this society were distinguished, like Dominic, for their piety and
talents. One in particular was gifted with exceptional brilliance, and being
afterwards ordained as a secular priest, he had a most fruitful apostolate, and
took a large share in the arrangements for the opening of the Sanctuary of Our
Lady, Help of Christians, at Turin, during the octave of which celebrations he
was called to his reward. While still a cleric he founded the Sodality of the
Blessed Sacrament, which has since been a traditional sodality in our schools,
and by its means effected great good among the boys of the Oratory.
CHAPTER
XVII. DOMINIC'S INTIMATE ASSOCIATES.
FROM
much of the foregoing it will be concluded that Dominic was a friend to all,
and was regarded by all as a friend. If anyone did not feel drawn to him in a
particular manner, it was impossible not to treat him with respectful regard.
He was of such excellent dispositions, partly from his natural gifts, partly
from his training and efforts, that he was often given charge of boys who
needed some special care and skilful handling, so that he might gradually bring
them up to the standard that flourished at the Oratory. In carrying out these
charges he was particularly apt at profiting of every occasion that presented
itself, whether in recreation, or walks, or church. But if he was regarded as a
friend by the boys in general, he was something more to those who were
associated with him in the Sodality of the Immaculate Conception. These were
his co-workers, counsellors, and intimate friends. They were brought together
for their extra devotions, their talks and arrangements, their discussions
concerning the boys who were entrusted to their care for special guidance, and
all other items concerning the apostolate of those who belonged to the
Sodality, and which was far reaching in its scope. These conferences and
propositions were made with the approval of the Director, but were held by the
boys themselves. Savio was the prime mover in these meetings, and, in fact, was
looked up to as the teacher and guiding spirit. There were, however, several
prominent members, who were very like him in their zeal and piety, and in their
skill and capabilities in assisting in the training of their younger
companions. Many of these are still living, and engaged in the priesthood, or
in prominent positions; it would therefore, perhaps, not be tactful to speak of
them directly. But I have thought it useful to call attention to two of them
who have already been called away to their eternal reward. They are Camillus
Gavio, and John Massaglia. The former only remained at the Oratory two months,
but it was long enough to leave a lasting remembrance. His piety had always
been conspicuous, and with this he possessed remarkable talents, particularly
for painting and sculpture; so much so, that the municipality of Tortona, his
native city, had awarded him a scholarship, so that he might come to the
Schools of Turin, to continue his studies and artistic training. Shortly before
his arrival at the Oratory he had recovered from a serious illness. This
doubtless accounted for much of his quiet, retiring life, for he was
practically only then convalescent, and at a distance from his home and
friends. Moreover, he knew none of the boys at the Oratory, and all these
circumstances combined to make him rather a spectator of, than a partner in the
games, and he was often noticed with a far away, abstracted look. Savio soon
made his acquaintance and got into conversation. He had quickly elicited the
main facts of the boy's life, including his late illness. But this last item
should be described in the words of the actual speakers. The new-comer had
described briefly his illness, which was concerned with a weakness of the
heart, and had brought him to death's door. "You desired very much to be
cured, I suppose?" enquired Dominic. "No, not a great deal; I only
desired that the Will of God might be done." No more than this was
required to convince Savio that his new acquaintance was gifted with
extraordinary piety, and he secretly rejoiced at this acquisition to the
Oratory; he therefore followed up the boy's response by remarking:
"Whoever desires to do the Will of God, is anxious for his own
sanctification; do you ever feel this desire?" "Oh yes, it has long
been my chief ambition." "Very good; the number of our friends
increases daily; you will join our inner circle of those who have the same
ambition as you have." The new boy agreed, and a discussion was held as to
his future conduct. Savio pointed out to him, that at the Oratory sanctity
consisted principally in being happy; that the boys took every care to avoid
sin, as the great enemy, to do all duties as well as possible, and to perform
the practices of piety with exactitude. Servite
Domine in laetitia is to be our motto. This advice of Dominic's
seemed to fall like a healing balm on the soul of Camillus. He became a close
companion of Dominic's, and from him learnt the secrets of great holiness that
he had himself acquired. With such a guide, and with his own excellent good
will and dispositions, it was no wonder he made rapid progress in virtue, so as
to become prominent even among those who were themselves all of a very high
standard of exactitude and piety. However, his rapid progress in piety was like
his swift course towards heaven. The illness he had described to Dominic had
left effects that could not be removed by medical aid, and it was soon evident
that he was in a very dangerous condition. Every care from physicians and
friends was his, but in vain. It was time for him to go to that Divine Lord
whose Will he had so faithfully sought to do, and after receiving the
Sacraments with great edification, he died on December 30th, 1856. Dominic was
his constant attendant during his illness, and would readily have watched by
him all night, but he was not allowed. When he was told that his companion had
died, he asked to go and see the body, and looking at the face of his friend he
said with emotion: "Farewell, Gavio; I am quite sure that you have gone to
Heaven; so prepare a place for me. However, I shall always be a friend to you,
and shall pray for the repose of your soul as long as I am left here on
earth." The Sodality of the Immaculate Conception had special rules for
the prayers and Communions to be offered for the deceased members, and Dominic
immediately arranged for them to be carried out. His words and recommendations
to his companions on this occasion were typical of that gravity, which he
always displayed in regard to things of the spiritual life, of the importance
of which he always had an intimate conviction.
CHAPTER
XVIII. DOMINIC SAVIO AND JOHN MASSIGLIA.
THERE
was a boy at the Oratory whose character and career bore a striking similarity
to Dominic's. He had come to Turin at the same time; he had come from a little
place quite close to Mondonio, so that they were practically from the one district.
He had the same intentions as Dominic, to embrace the ecclesiastical state, and
he was inspired with a like eagerness to advance in the science of the saints.
This was John Massiglia. He had been talking one day to his friend about their
future hopes, and after their exchange of ideas Dominic said: "It will not
be sufficient for us merely to desire to become priests; there are means to be
adopted to acquire the virtues that are suitable to that state." John
replied that he was fully aware of it, but that he had confidence that they
would have the grace to acquire them, if they were chosen to be among the
ministers of Jesus Christ. There had been some special sermons and exercises in
preparation for the Easter Communions, and these two had taken part in them
with singular devotion. After their Communion Dominic said to his companion:
"I very much desire that we should be true friends; friends, that is, in
regard to the affairs of the soul. I propose that from now we each admonish the
other in regard to anything that may be thought useful for our spiritual
advancement. If you see anything wrong in my conduct tell me immediately, that
I may correct it; or if you think of any good I ought to perform, point it out
to me." His friend promised to do so, "though," he said,
"there will be no opportunity, and on the condition that you do the same
for me, who am in much greater need of such an arrangement." Dominic
replied that that was not the time for compliments, but that henceforth they
would help each other in the progress of their soul. From that time, Dominic
Savio and John Massiglia were intimate friends, and it was a true and perfect
friendship, since it was founded upon real charity, and nourished by the
frequent intercommunion of those pious suggestions and experiences which are
prompted only by solid virtue.
At
the end of the scholastic year, after the examinations, all the boys were
allowed to go to their homes for the vacation, but some always preferred to
remain at the Oratory, both for the advantages of extra study and to continue
their exercises of piety, which could scarcely be carried on at home. Savio and
Massiglia were among the number. But I knew that both were eagerly expected by
their parents to spend the holidays at home, and that a change and rest were
necessary after their year's work at their books. I therefore met them both
together and said: "Why do you not prefer to go home for a time?" No
answer was at first forthcoming; both began to smile. "What is the meaning
of that smile?" I enquired. Then Dominic replied, "We know that our
parents would like us to go home, and in one way we are anxious to go; but as
long as birds are in their cage, they are safe from the hawk; once out of it,
there is risk of falling into the toils of the enemy of souls." But in
spite of their good intentions and their desires to stay, I insisted on their
going home for a time. They obeyed, but only stayed away the minimum time that
I had appointed. If a detailed description were to be given of this friend, it
would be very similar to the one being given of Dominic himself, for they had
the same ideals, and were led in the same paths of virtue. Massiglia was of far
more robust build than Dominic, and his health never gave anxiety; in fact he
was most promising in every way; particularly in regard to his progress in his
studies. He had finished his course of rhetoric and had received the clerical
habit, for which he had so ardently longed. But he was destined to enjoy his
happiness only for a few months. Some indisposition, slight though it appeared
to be, caused us to insist on his studies being laid aside for a time, and as
he did not appear to recover he was sent to his native place, by the advice of
the doctors. While there he wrote to his friend the following letter: "My
dear Friend, " When I left the Oratory, I thought I should be away only
for a short time, so that I did not think it necessary to bring any books or
school things with me. But now it appears that my recovery will take time, and
in fact the issue of my illness is quite uncertain. The doctor says I am
improving, but I think I am gradually getting worse: we shall see which of us
is right. My chief regret is that I must be away from the Oratory and from you,
and have had to give up most of the exercises of piety which we used to
practise. My only consolation is in the recollection of the days when we went
together to Holy Communion, and the preparation we used to make for them. "However,
although we are separated in body, we shall remain united in heart and spirit.
I want to ask you to get from my desk some manuscripts and the Latin copy of
the Imitation of Christ, which is beside them, and send both on to me. You may
imagine how tired I am of doing nothing. The doctor will not hear of my
studying at all. I have plenty of time for consideration, and often wonder
whether I am to be cured, or to go back again to the Oratory, or whether this
is destined to be my last illness. In any case I feel ready to submit with joy
to the Holy Will of God. "If you have any suggestion to make tell me of
it. Do not forget to pray for me, and if we may not have the opportunity of
enjoying our former friendship I trust we shall enjoy together one day a happy
eternity. "Remember me to all my friends, particularly to the Sodality of
Our Lady Immaculate. "Believe me, "Your affectionate friend, "JOHN
MASSIGLIA." Dominic at once carried out his friend's request, and enclosed
the following letter:"My dear Massiglia, "Your letter was a source of
consolation to me, and to all your friends, for it at least showed that you
were alive, a fact which we were beginning to doubt, and did not know whether
to sing the Gloria Patri
or the De Profundis.
The things you have asked for are being sent. I will only remark that though
Thomas à Kempis is a good friend, he is dead and gone; you must search for him
in his writings, and make his counsel living again by putting it into practice.
"I see that you are desirous for the opportunities we have here for the
performance of the spiritual exercises. You are right. When I am away from the
Oratory I feel the same need. I used to try to make up for it by visiting the
Blessed Sacrament every day, and getting some companions to go with me if they
would. Besides the Imitation
I used to read the Hidden
Treasure, by St. Leonard of Port Maurice. You could do the same
perhaps, if you feel disposed. "You say that you do not know whether you
will return to the Oratory or not. Truth to tell, I also feel that my health is
showing alarming symptoms, and I have a presentiment that I am advancing with
rapid strides towards the end of my studies and of my life. We can at least
pray for each other, that we may have the grace of a happy death. Whichever one
of us goes to Heaven first must prepare a place for the other, and will be able
to stretch out a helping hand to lead him to his heavenly home. "May God
keep us in His Grace, and help us to become saints, for we may not have long to
live. All your friends are longing for your return to the Oratory and send
their kind remembrances to you. For myself "I remain, "Your most
affectionate friend,
"DOMINIC SAVIO." This illness of young Massiglia, as we have said, appeared slight at first; more than once he seemed quite recovered; but again relapsed, until he was quite suddenly brought to the point of death. Fr. Vafrè, who was his Director while at Mondonio, writes: "He had time to receive the last comforts of Religion, and did so with greatest edification; he died the death of the just man who leaves this world to go straight to his reward." Savio was profoundly grieved at the death of his close friend, and although resigned to the Will of God, he mourned his loss for some time. It was almost the only occasion that I had seen his gentle face covered with the tears of sorrow. His one consolation was to pray for his friend's soul, and to get others to pray for him. More than once he said: "Massiglia has gone to join Gavio in heaven, when shall I go to join them in the bliss of Paradise?" As long as Dominic lived, he had his friend often in mind, particularly at Mass and at the spiritual exercises; he never ceased to recommend to God the soul of that friend, who, he felt, had been of such assistance to him. In fact this loss had more serious results than one would think, for it seriously affected the already weakened frame of the friend and his health, which had never been robust.
"DOMINIC SAVIO." This illness of young Massiglia, as we have said, appeared slight at first; more than once he seemed quite recovered; but again relapsed, until he was quite suddenly brought to the point of death. Fr. Vafrè, who was his Director while at Mondonio, writes: "He had time to receive the last comforts of Religion, and did so with greatest edification; he died the death of the just man who leaves this world to go straight to his reward." Savio was profoundly grieved at the death of his close friend, and although resigned to the Will of God, he mourned his loss for some time. It was almost the only occasion that I had seen his gentle face covered with the tears of sorrow. His one consolation was to pray for his friend's soul, and to get others to pray for him. More than once he said: "Massiglia has gone to join Gavio in heaven, when shall I go to join them in the bliss of Paradise?" As long as Dominic lived, he had his friend often in mind, particularly at Mass and at the spiritual exercises; he never ceased to recommend to God the soul of that friend, who, he felt, had been of such assistance to him. In fact this loss had more serious results than one would think, for it seriously affected the already weakened frame of the friend and his health, which had never been robust.
CHAPTER
XIX. SPECIAL GRACES GRANTED TO DOMINIC. SOME PARTICULAR INCIDENTS.
AS
far as the generality of boys is concerned, it would be considered quite
extraordinary for them to maintain the high standard of conduct, and the
continual endeavour after virtue that has been described above; that innocence
of life and performance of good works, penances, and acts of special fervour.
But these things made up the ordinary rule of Savio's life. Nothing short of
extraordinary, again, were his wonderful faith, his constant hope, his ardent
charity, and his perseverance till his last breath. I now wish to describe
certain facts that are really out of the common, and which may perhaps some day
be the subject of criticism. It may be well to point out to the reader, that
the facts to be related are very like others related in the Bible or in the
Lives of the Saints; moreover I am relating what occurred under my own notice,
and the incidents are given with scrupulous care; the conclusions to be drawn
must be left for the discreet reader. Very often when Dominic went into the
church, principally on his Communion days, or when the Blessed Sacrament was
exposed, he fell into what was clearly a sort of rapture or ecstasy; and thus
he would remain for a very long time, if he were not called away to fulfil his
ordinary tasks. It happened one day that he was absent from breakfast, from
class, from the mid-day meal, and no one knew where he was; he was not in the
study, nor in the dormitory. The Director was informed, and he had a suspicion
that he knew where to find him, namely in the church, as had happened before.
He went to the church, and up into the choir near the sanctuary; there stood
the boy like a statue; one foot was in front of the other, and one hand was on
a book stand near by, while the other was on his breast. His face was turned
towards the sanctuary and his gaze fixed on the tabernacle. His lips were not
moving. The Director called him; no reply; he shook him gently; then he turned
and said: "Oh, is the Mass over!" "See," said the priest,
showing him his watch; "it is two o'clock." The boy said he was sorry
for his transgression of the rule, and the Director sent him off to dinner,
saying: "If anyone asks you where you have been, say that you have been
carrying out an order of mine." This was in case any inquisitive boy
should put inopportune questions to him. Another day, after making my usual
thanksgiving, I was going out of the sacristy, when I heard a voice in the
choir, as if someone were disputing. I went in to see what was the matter, and
found Savio there. He was talking, and waiting every now and again as though
listening to the answer. Among other things he said, I distinctly caught the
words: "Yes, oh my God, I have already said it, and I say so again: I love
Thee and will love Thee till my last breath. If Thou knowest that I should ever
offend Thee, let me die; yes, I would die rather than commit sin." I
sometimes asked him what happened when he stayed behind like that. He would
answer in all simplicity: "I become distracted, and losing the thread of
my prayers, I behold such beautiful and entrancing sights that hours seem to go
in a moment." One day he came to my room and said: "Come quickly,
Father, come with me, there is a good work to be done." "Where am I
to go," I said. "Make haste, make haste," he said. I hesitated,
but as he insisted, and past experience had shown me the importance of such
invitations, I went down with him. He went first, I followed. Down one street,
then another, then a third, all in silence; there was yet another turning, and
at a certain door he stopped; there he went up the stairs to the third floor,
rang the bell vigorously, and turning to me said: "It is here that you are
wanted." Then he went away. The door was opened and a woman appeared.
"Oh, make haste," she said, "quick, or it will be too late. My
husband has abandoned his faith; now he is at the point of death and wishes to
die a Catholic." I went over at once to the bedside, to the sick man, who
was indeed very anxious to put the affairs of his soul in order. I did what I
could for the man without loss of time, and his confession was just completed,
when the parish priest who had been sent for, arrived. He just had time to
administer Extreme Unction with one anointing, when the man breathed his last. Afterwards
I asked Dominic how he knew that there was a man ill at that house; he did not
answer, but looked at me with an air of sadness, and I noticed that tears were
beginning to come. I did not question him further. Purity of life, love of God,
and his longing for heavenly things had made Dominic almost habitually absorbed
in God. At times, even during recreation, these visitations would occur to him.
He would drop out of the game and walk away alone. Asked why he left his
companions he would answer: "My usual distractions are assailing me; it
seemed to me that Heaven opened and I have to leave my companions for fear that
I should say something that would appear to them ridiculous." On one
occasion something was being said about the reward of the innocent souls.
Dominic had given his opinion, and by the thought of such things he was quite
carried away; he became motionless at first, then dropped into the arms of
someone standing near. These ecatacies in fact came on in many different
places, in the study, going to and from school, and even during class. It was
remarkable that he often spoke about the Sovereign Pontiff, and expressed the desire
of being able to see him, as he had something of great importance to tell him.
As he had repeated this on several occasions, I one day asked him what the
important matter was. He replied: "If I could have an interview with the
Pope, I would tell him, that in spite of the great tribulations which he has to
endure at present he should never slacken in his particular solicitude for
England: God is preparing a great triumph for Catholicism in that
kingdom." "Why, what grounds have you for that statement?" "I
will tell you, but do not mention it to others, for they might think it
ridiculous. But if you go to Rome, tell Pius IX. for me. This is why I think
so. One morning, during my thanksgiving after Communion, I had a repeated
distraction, which was strange for me; I thought I saw a great stretch of
country enveloped in a thick mist, and it was filled with a multitude of
people. They were moving about, but like men, who, having missed their way, are
not sure of their footing. Somebody near by said: 'This is England.' I was
going to ask some questions about it when I saw His Holiness Pius IX. as I had
seen him represented in pictures. He was majestically clad, and was carrying a
shining torch with which he approached the multitude as if to enlighten their darkness.
As he drew near, the light of the torch seemed to disperse the mist, and the
people were left in broad daylight. 'This torch,' said my informant, 'is the
Catholic religion which is to illuminate England.' " When I was in Rome in
1858 I related this to the Holy Father, who was greatly interested and said:
"What you have told me confirms me in my resolution to do all that is
possible for England, which has long been the object of my special care. What
you have related is, to put it at its lowest estimation, the counsel of a
devout soul." There are many other facts of a somewhat similar nature, but
which are out of place in a small life like this. I have left them on record,
so that, when, in the opinion of others, their publication is demanded, they
maybe given to the world.
CHAPTER
XX. DOMINIC'S IDEAS ABOUT DYING AND HIS PREPARATION FOR A HAPPY DEATH.
THE
brief years of Dominic's innocent life, as above related, may well be
considered as a continual preparation for death. But he regarded the Sodality
of the Immaculate Conception, which he had practically founded, as a secure
means for obtaining the assistance of the Blessed Virgin, at the point of
death, which many thought to be a not very remote contingency in Dominic's
case. I do not know exactly whether he had a revelation concerning the time or
circumstances of his death, or merely a presentiment of it, but it is certain
that he spoke of it a good time before it occurred, and with such clearness and
circumstantial knowledge, that it could not have been described more exactly by
one who had actually witnessed his death. On account of the state of his
health, every care was taken to moderate his studies and his exercises of
piety; but as an effect of his natural delicate build, and the constant spiritual
effort, his strength gradually gave way. He had no misgivings about this
himself, and had often said: "I must hurry, or else night will overtake me
on the way," which meant that he had only a short time left to him, and
that he should use it well in the performance of good works. It is the custom
at the Oratory for the boys, to make the exercises for a good death every
month. This consists chiefly in approaching the Sacraments of Confession and
Holy Communion as though it were to be for the last time. Pius IX. had granted
several indulgences to this pious exercise. Dominic always made this
preparation for a good death with an exactitude that could not be excelled.
Among the prayers said in public on this day are an Our Father and Hail Mary
for the one amongst us who shall be the first to die. On one of the monthly
exercise days Dominic playfully said: "Instead of saying 'for the first
one amongst us who is to die,' it ought rather to be: 'for Dominic Savio, who
will be the first one amongst us to die.' " And this he remarked on more
than one occasion. In 1856, just before the month of May began, he went to his
Director to ask for some special guidance in order to keep the month with
particular devotion. The Director told him it should be done by the most exact
fulfilment of one's duties, by receiving Holy Communion daily, and performing
some little act in honour of Our Lady every day. Dominic then wished to know
what special grace he should ask for, and was told to ask that Our Lady might
obtain for him an improvement in health, and the grace to become more pleasing
in the sight of God. To this Dominic replied: "Yes, I shall ask the grace
to become a saint, that she may help me in the last morgent of my life and that
I may die a holy death." In fact during that month he seemed to be living
only outwardly amongst us and to be more than usually in communion with the
world of angels; and his efforts to do something in honour of Our Lady every
day were remarkably successful, so much so, that a companion was prompted to
remark to him: "If you do so much this year, how will you be able to
improve upon it next year?" Dominic replied: "You may leave that to
me; I must do all that is possible this year, and if I am here next year, I
will answer your question." In order that his failing health might have
every care I arranged for a medical consultation. Dominic was examined by these
specialists, and all wondered at his bright cheerfulness of disposition, the
acuteness of his intellect, and the prudence displayed in his replies. Dr.
Vallauri, of distinguished memory, who was one of the most eminent consulting
physicians, said: "What a priceless treasure you have in this boy!"
I
asked him what was the cause of the boy's gradual decline, that could be
noticed almost day by day. He said it was the delicacy of his constitution, his
precocious knowledge, and the constant highly strung tension of his whole
being; these were too great a strain on his vital powers. "Is there any
remedy that you can suggest?" "The best remedy, as far as I can see,
is to let him go to Paradise, for which he seems to be quite ready; but the
only thing that can prolong his life is to make him put his studies entirely
aside, and let him have some light occupation suitable to his strength."
CHAPTER
XXI. DOMINIC'S INTEREST IN THE SICK. HE HAS TO LEAVE THE ORATORY FOR CHANGE OF
AIR. HIS PARTING WORDS.
DOMINIC'S
gradual decline was not so rapid or so marked as to cause him to be continually
in bed; he sometimes went into the class room, or the study, or helped in some
light domestic work, as the doctor had suggested; but his chief delight was to
attend on his sick companions whenever there chanced to be any. But he seemed
to derive such pleasure from it that he doubted whether it could be meritorious
in the sight of God. However, while he waited upon their needs he was
particularly pleased to be able to assist them in some spiritual way, and was
very skilful in his method of so doing. He remarked to one companion that the
poor body could not last for ever, so that it had to become weak some time or
other and gradually be consumed; but then the soul which had been set free
would go to its everlasting home, and enjoy an eternal happiness. If the
medicine were distasteful, he would remark to the sick boy that it was not
nearly as bad as the gall and vinegar of our Divine Lord, and that it was
ordained by God that these remedies should be provided for the body. Dominic's
own health had already made it evident that he would have to leave the Oratory
and go home for his native air. He had a great repugnance to this, for it
interrupted his practices of piety; and in fact I had sent him to his home just
before this, but he only remained there a few days and then returned to the
Oratory. I must own that our regret was mutual and I would have made every
sacrifice to keep him amongst us; I regarded him with the affection that a
father has towards the best beloved of his sons. But the recommendations of the
doctors made it clear that it would be against all prudence to keep him longer
at the Oratory, especially as he had been troubled with a severe and obstinate
cough for some days. Notice was accordingly sent to his father and the day for
his departure was fixed for March 1st, 1857. In order to make a sacrifice of
his will to God, Dominic submitted to this arrangement, for he would have much
rather ended his days at the Oratory. Somebody suggested to him that it would
not be for long, and that he would return quite well and be able to continue
his studies. But Dominic was under no misapprehension; he replied that he was
going away and he knew quite well that he would never return. On the evening
before his departure he stayed with me a long time, so much so that he had no
wish to leave me. He had a great many questions to ask, concerning chiefly his
own method of action as an invalid, which now he was, and how he might make
that state meritorious. I told him that he should offer his illness and his
life to God. He was anxious about his past faults and whether I thought he would
be saved. I assured him that whatever he might have committed was forgiven, and
that he need have no fear of being saved. In regard to temptations, I
counselled him to reply to the tempter that he had already given his soul to
Our Lord, who had redeemed it with His Precious Blood. He had many further
questions about dying and about Heaven, and he seemed like one who had his foot
upon the threshold of Heaven and wanted to know beforehand what it was like. The
day for his departure happened to be the day for the exercises of a happy
death, and these he made with the utmost fervour. In fact I have no words in
which to describe the devotion with which he approached the Sacraments, though
it made a deep impression on me. He regarded these exercises as his actual
preparation for death, and thought that perhaps his end might come at any
moment. His few preparations for departure were soon made, though they were
carried out with that scrupulous care which showed that he regarded them as the
last acts he would do at the Oratory. He went to each of his companions to say
goodbye, and to several he gave a little message of advice or encouragement or
recommendation. To one boy he owed a few pence. He called to him and said:
"Come let us put our accounts right, or else there may be trouble in
settling accounts with God." To his associates in the Confraternity of the
Immaculate Conception he had some special advice to give, and encouraged them
always to have the greatest confidence in Our Lady. When he was going he turned
to me and said: "Then you will not have my body with you, and I must needs
take it to Mondonio? It would have been but a brief inconvenience and then all
would be over . . . . But the Will of God be done. If you go to Rome do not
forget the message I have given you concerning England; pray that I may have a
happy death, and that we may see each other again in Heaven. We had reached the
door of the Oratory leading out to the street. He still had hold of my hand,
but he turned to his companions and said: "Goodbye, my friends, pray for
me, and may we meet again in Heaven where there are no more partings."
Just as he was leaving he said to me: "I would like a present as a
souvenir." I asked him what he would prefer to have, a book for example? "No,
something better than that." I thought perhaps he wanted something for his
journey and suggested it to him. He replied: "Yes, it is exactly that,
something for the journey to eternity. You have spoken of a plenary indulgence
from the Pope, for those who are dying; I should like to participate in
that." I said I would willingly insert his name amongst those who should
enjoy that privilege which I had obtained especially from Rome. Thus he left
the Oratory where he had spent the last three years. They had been three happy
years for the boy, three years of continual edification for his companions and
even for his superiors; he had left it now to return no more. His parting
salutations, so unusual in a boy, had astonished all of us. We knew that he
suffered a good deal from his illness, but as he was nearly always up and
about, we were not accustomed to regard it as causing immediate anxiety. His
cheerful disposition also went far to conceal his sufferings. Therefore,
although we were inclined to take his parting words seriously, and were greatly
grieved at them, we still had hopes that he would return and continue his
studies. But the sequel proved otherwise. He was ready for Heaven; during the
few years of his boyhood he had merited the reward of the just, and it seemed
that God designed to take him to Himself in the spring time of his life, and
before he should encounter those dangers which bring shipwreck often even to
the purest souls.
CHAPTER
XXII. THE PROGRESS OF HIS ILLNESS. HE RECEIVES THE LAST SACRAMENTS. EDIFYING
INCIDENTS.
DOMINIC
had left the Oratory on the 1st of March. The journey home in the carriage and
the change of scene appeared to do him good, and therefore it was not thought
necessary that he should remain in bed. But after a few days he seemed to
become weaker, his appetite was poor, and his cough more noticeable, so that
the doctor was consulted. His opinion was that the boy was a great deal worse
than he appeared. He had him put to bed at once, and as he thought there was
some inflamation he had recourse to blood letting. This remedy usually had
great terrors for the young. The doctor therefore advised Dominic to fix his
attention on something else, and to have patience and courage. The boy smiled
and said: "What is such a little wound compared to those made by the nails
in the hands and feet of our Saviour?" Then with the greatest tranquillity
of mind, in almost a playful mood, and without the least sign of apprehension,
he watched the whole operation. When it had been repeated several times he seemed
to be somewhat better; the doctor thought there was a turn towards improvement;
his parents thought likewise; but Dominic was not to be brought to their
opinion. Guided by the thought that it is better to receive the Sacraments in
good time, than to delay till it was too late, he sent for his father and said:
"Father, I think it would be better to consult the heavenly physician. I
wish to go to Confession and Communion." His parents quite thought that he
was on the road to recovery; it was with sorrow they heard such remarks as
these, and it was just to satisfy his desire that they sent for the priest. He
came at once, heard the boy's confession and, in accordance with his request,
brought the Holy Viaticum. The devotion and eager fervour displayed by Dominic
under these circumstances is better imagined than described. Whenever he
approached the Sacraments it was in the attitude and dispositions of a Saint
Aloysius, and now that he received them for what he deemed to be the last time,
it was with outbursts of ardent love that his heart went out to meet his Divine
Lord. He recalled then the promises he had made at his First Communion: how he
had besought Jesus and Mary to be his constant friends, and resolved to prefer
death rather than wilfully give way to sin. When his thanksgiving was over he
said in complete tranquillity: "Now I am at peace; it is true that I have
to make the long journey to eternity, but with our Divine Lord by my side, I
have nothing to fear; tell everyone that if they have Him there is nothing to
fear, not even death itself." Dominic had always been a model of patience
under suffering, but this virtue was even more conspicuous in him during his
last illness, which he bore as a Saint. Whatever he could do for himself, he
wished still to do, so as not to inconvenience anyone; he thought his parents
had already had too much to bear from him. He took any and every medicine
without the least sign of distaste, and underwent ten times the operation of
blood letting without any sign of impatience. After four days of attendance the
doctor congratulated the boy and his parents on the improvement he found, and
told the mother and father to thank God that now the worst was over, and only
convalescence remained. The parents were naturally pleased; but Dominic smiled
and said: "The world is overcome. I have now only to make a befitting
appearance before God." When the doctor had gone, Dominic seemed to place
no reliance on his promise of recovery, and asked that the Sacrament of Extreme
Unction might be administered to him. In this again the parents only complied
in order to satisfy him, for neither they nor the priest could perceive any
signs of his being near to death; the very serenity of his countenance, and his
bright conversation, made them believe that there was really some improvement. But
whether Dominic was guided by sentiments of devotion, or whether some divinely
inspired voice had spoken to his heart, the fact is that he counted the days
and hours of his life as a person reckons numbers in arithmetic, and every
moment was occupied in preparation to appear before God. Before receiving
Extreme Unction he expressed his devotion thus: "Pardon my sins, O God,
for I love Thee, and wish to love Thee for ever! May this Sacrament which Thou
permitted me to receive in Thy infinite mercy, blot out all the sins I have
committed by my hearing, sight, tongue, hands and feet; may my body and soul be
sanctified through the merits of Thy passion. Amen." He answered all the
responses in such a clear voice, and with such realisation of their meaning,
that one would have imagined him to be in perfect health. It was then the 9th
of March, the fourth day of his illness, and the last day of his life. His
strength was diminishing, and remedies seemed to have no effect, so that the
Papal Blessing was given. He said the Confiteor
himself, and responded to the priest in his turn. When he was told that it
earned with it a Plenary Indulgence, he showed the greatest joy and said Deo gratias et semper Deo gratias.
Then he turned to the Crucifix and recited some verses of a favourite hymn.
CHAPTER
XXIII. HIS LAST MOMENTS AND HOLY DEATH.
IT
is one of the maxims of our Faith that at the hour of death we reap the fruit
of our good works during life: Quae
seminaverit homo, haec et metet. However, it sometimes happens that
good, pious people experience fear and dread at the approach of death. This is
in accordance with the adorable decrees of God, who wishes to purify those
souls from the small stains they may have contracted, so that they may increase
their merit in heaven. It was not thus with Dominic Savio. It is my conviction
that God deigned to give him the hundredfold, which He bestows upon the souls
of the just, as a preliminary to the glory of Paradise. And indeed the
innocence which he preserved to the last moment of his life, his generous
Faith, his habit of constant prayer, his mortifications, and the sufferings
which had, as it were, beset his life, certainly merited that consolation for
him at the hour of death. Hence it was that he perceived his end approaching
with the tranquillity of an innocent soul; it would seem that he did not feel
even the suffering and oppressiveness which are a natural outcome of the
efforts of the soul to break the bonds by which it is united to the body. In
short, Savio's death was more like the passing into a peaceful slumber. By the
evening of March 9th he had received all the consolations of our Holy Religion.
Anyone listening to his voice, or noticing his cheerful countenance, would have
thought he was lying in bed for a little rest. His bright manner, his looks,
still full of life, the complete possession of his senses, quite astonished
everyone, and nobody, except himself, believed him to be on the point of death.
An hour and a half before he passed away, the parish priest came to see him,
and seeing how calm he was, he was surprised to hear him recommending his soul
to God. He continued to make aspirations and short ejaculations expressing his
desire to go speedily to heaven. The priest remarked: "I am at a loss to
know what to suggest for the recommendation of a soul of this sort." He
recited some prayers, and was about to leave, when Dominic asked him for some
final thought by way of souvenir. The priest said he could recommend nothing to
him but the thought of the Sacred Passion; Dominic thanked him for this and
continued to recall it, and to repeat invocations to Jesus and Mary. Then he
rested for about half an hour. At the end of that time he turned to his parents
and said: "Father, it is time." The father replied: "I am here,
my son, what would you like?" "It is time, father; get my prayer
book, and read the prayers for a good death." At these words the mother
began to weep, and had to go out of the room. The father was greatly moved, but
he restrained his grief so as to read the prayers. Dominic repeated them after
him, and, in the proper place, said by himself: "Merciful Jesus, have
mercy on me." When they came to the part which says: "But deign to
receive me into Thy Kingdom where I may for ever sing Thy praises,"
Dominic added: "Yes, that is exactly what I desire; to sing the praises of
God for all eternity." He now seemed to rest a moment, as though pondering
over something in his mind. Then he opened his eyes again, and said with a
clear voice, and a smiling countenance: "Goodbye, father, goodbye; the
priest wanted to tell me something else, but I cannot remember it now . Oh!
what a beautiful sight I behold .." Thus saying, with his hands joined,
and a heavenly smile, his soul passed away. Yes, go forth, faithful soul, to
meet thy Creator; Heaven is opened to thee, and the angels and saints are
rejoicing for thee; Jesus, whom you loved so much, invites you and says:
"Come, good and faithful servant, thou hast fought and won the victory,
come and enjoy that happiness which will never fail: Intra in gaudium Domini tui."
CHAPTER
XXIV. THE NEWS OF HIS DEATH. REMARKABLE TESTIMONY.
THE
last words uttered by Dominic, as related in the preceding chapter, did not
give his father the impression that he was dying, He thought he was again
falling into a brief period of repose. He went out of the room for a few
minutes, and on his return spoke to Dominic; but there was no reply, and he
perceived that he had really expired. The grief of the parents and their
desolation at the loss of such a son may be well imagined. News was most
anxiously awaited at the Oratory. A letter was dispatched to me in haste by his
father, and when I read: "I have sad news for you," I concluded that
all was over. He went on to say: "Our dear son, your pupil, gave up his
soul to God yesterday evening, with the innocence of another St. Aloysius, and
after receiving the Holy Sacrament in a most edifying manner." There was
consternation at the Oratory when I told the boys. Some were in grief at the
loss of such a true friend; others, at being deprived of a valuable adviser,
and all missed the inspiring example of his virtuous life. Some gathered
together to say a prayer for him, but the greater number declared that they
were sure he was a saint and already in Paradise. Some began immediately to
invoke his intercession, and there was a general endeavour to get something
that had belonged to him, as a relic. The master of the class that he attended
in Turin, Father Picco, announced the sad tidings to his boys in these words: "A
short time ago, I happened to speak to you about the uncertainty of human life,
and I pointed out that death does not spare even those who are in the spring
time of youth. On that occasion, l had an example in one of the boys, who had
been a pupil of this very class, a boy full of life and vigour, and yet after a
few days absence we heard that he had been taken ill and had passed away, to
the great sorrow of his parents and relations. "When I brought forward
that example I little thought that this year would be saddened by a similar
occurrence, that such an instance would be repeated in the case of one who was
sitting here listening to me. Death has carried off one of your companions,
Dominic Savio. You may remember that he was not very well when he was here
last, and then had to stay away from the classes altogether. The doctors
advised his removal to his native place, and there he died after only four days
of illness. "Yesterday I read the letter from his father in which he makes
the sad announcement, and the picture he draws of the boy's saintly death moved
me to tears. He could find no more suitable expression to apply to his beloved
son than to call him another St. Aloysius, both on account of the holiness of
his life and his resignation in death. I leave to his superiors at the Oratory
to describe the holiness of his life, the intensity of his fervour and piety; I
must allow his companions and friends, who were in daily contact with him, to
describe the gentleness and modesty of his demeanour, and the careful restraint
he exercised over his words. As far as he came under my direction he always
deserved the highest praise for his behaviour, his diligence and exactness, and
it would afford me the greatest consolation if all of you would resolve to
follow his example. "While he was at the Oratory, but had not yet begun to
attend these classes, his diligence and piety won for him the highest
reputation. So rapid was his progress that I was most anxious for him to come,
and I had the highest possible hopes for his future career. I had met him
sometimes in my visits to the Oratory, had been struck by the innocence of his
life and the winning gentleness of his disposition, and had been drawn to him
in a particular manner. During the time that he attended these classes he
fulfilled my expectations perfectly, and all of you are witnesses to his
excellent conduct. In many details, which most boys consider beneath their
notice, he was scrupulously exact, and by the fervour and recollection he
brought to all his actions, he sanctified his whole day and made it an
acceptable offering in the sight of God. Such conduct is worthy of imitation;
it would bring consolation to parents and teachers, and all blessings and
happiness to the boys themselves. "Dominic gave us an example of how a
life should be spent in the service of God, in contrast to those youths who
seem to be in ignorance of the end for which they were created, or who stifle
the good dispositions that come to every soul. Reflect on the example of Savio,
and it will help you to spend your life in the service of your Creator and to
be prepared to give an account when the time comes. If I notice an improvement
in work and behaviour, I shall regard it as obtained by the intercession of
Dominic, and as a reward for having been associated with him, if only for a
short time." Thus did Fr. Picco announce the death of one of his most
promising pupils, and evince the general sorrow at his loss.
CHAPTER
XXV. THE INFLUENCE OF DOMINIC'S VIRTUES. FAVOURS RECEIVED. A RECOMMENDATION.
EVEN after such a brief description of his life, it will not be surprising that God deigned to honour his servant, Dominic Savio, with special marks of honour, which made his virtues shine forth the brighter. During his life many had depended for guidance on his advice, and been encouraged by his example; others had recommended their intentions to his prayers, and they had often been answered in a striking manner. It was natural, therefore, that after his death confidence in his intercession should rapidly spread. As soon as the news of his death reached us, many of his companions went about openly proclaiming him to be a saint. When the usual prayers were being offered for him, and the Litany was recited, they did not think it necessary or proper to say: "Pray for him" ;but continued the customary: "Pray for us." Dominic has gone to heaven, they said, and can need no payers from us. Others said: "If Dominic, with his innocent life and good works, has not gone to Heaven, who will ever get there?" Thus it was that by degrees he became a regular model for the example of all, and was regarded as a powerful protector and intercessor in Heaven. Almost every day I received accounts of temporal and spiritual graces received. Illnesses were cured, sometimes immediately. I myself was a witness of an instantaneous cure of yellow fever. * *This confidence in the intercession of Dominic was greatly increased by an assertion made is the strongest terms by his father. He says: "I was is the greatest affliction at the loss of my son, and was consumed by a desire to know what was his position in the other world. God deigned to comfort me. About a month after his death, during a very restless night, I saw, as it were, the ceiling opened, and Dominic appeared in the midst of dazzling light. I was beside myself at this sight, and cried out: "O Dominic, my son, are you already in Paradise?" "Yes," he replied, "I am in Heaven." Then pray for your brothers and sisters, and your mother and father, that we may all come to join you one day is Heaven." "Yes, yes, I will pray," was the answer. "Then he disappeared, and the room became as before." This the father asserts to be the simple truth. I have before me many documents containing accounts of favours received through Dominic's intercession. The character and authority of the writers are beyond question; but as most of them are still alive, I shall not insert them for the present. There is one related here of a grace obtained by a student who had been a companion of Dominic's. In the year 1858, this young man's health became very precarious. In fact it had broken down so badly, that he had to interrupt his course of philosophy, take every precaution, and at the end of the year he could not present himself for examination. However, there was a later examination towards the end of the year, and he thought he might be able to prepare for that, and thus prevent the loss of a whole year in the course of his studies; but his health continued to decline and his hopes gradually died away. During the autumn vacation he had a change of air and rest, and this seemed to give him renewed strength, so that he returned to Turin and applied himself to his studies. But again his health broke down, and he was in a worse state than ever, so that he saw there was no possibility of application to study, or of taking an examination. "It was then," he says, "that the accounts of the favours obtained by Dominic Savio struck me particularly, and I determined to make a novena to obtain the assistance of this former associate of mine. Certain prayers were said daily, and I made a special appeal on account of my previous intimacy with him, we having been in the same class, and striving for the first place. "About the fifth day, my health was suddenly much better, and I immediately took to my books; I seemed to master the subjects with great ease and took the examination. Nor was it a short-lived favour, for my health has since remained perfect, and two months have now elapsed since I was ill. I cannot but recognise that this grace was obtained from God by the intercession of my companion and friend." With this fact I shall bring the life of Dominic Savio to a close. In an appendix other favours are related, which seem to be conducive to the glory of God and the good of souls. But, dear Reader, before parting, I should like to propose some little resolution, which may be of service to you and to myself and to others; I should like you to join with me to a resolution to imitate young Savio in the practice of the virtues which are compatible with our state. In his own position he lived a most happy, virtuous and innocent life, which was crowned by a holy death. If we imitate his manner of life, we shall be assured of being like him in our last moments. But he is chiefly worthy of imitation in frequenting the Sacrament of Confession, which was his support in the constant practice of virtue, his guiding star through life, and his consolation at the hour of death. Frequent and devout use should be made of this sacrament so condusive to salvation; bbut every time we do so, let us give a thought to our last confession, in order to make sure that it has been properly made, and when there is need for so doing we should apply remedies to the defects. It seems to me that this is the safest means to spend happy days in the midst of the troubles of life, at the end of which we shall calmly await the moment of death. Then, with our minds at rest, and a smile on our lips, we shall go forth to meet our Divine Lord who will graciously welcome us; and, judging us according to His great mercy, will lead us both, I trust, dear reader, from the trials of this life to a happy eternity.
APPENDIX.
CERTAIN GRACES OBTAINED FROM GOD THROUGH THE INTERCESSION OF DOMINIC SAVIO.
AMONGST
the many graces which are attributed to the intercession of Dominic Savio I
select some which are of a more ordinary nature. Of these graces there exist at
the Archiepiscopal Palace at Turin an authentic account, signed by the recipients
of the heavenly favours, for the truth of which they have publicly vouched. In
order that the account may be given with greater exactness and truthfulness, I
have deemed it advisable to give the facts just as they are related in the
authentic accounts above mentioned. They are as follows: CURE OF A MALIGNANT
FEVER. If it be the duty of a Christian to keep hidden such facts as redound to
his own honour, it is, on the other hand, his duty to manifest such things as
serve to glorify God's servants and to exalt His Holy Name before men. This
duty it is that impels me to publish a fact concerning the servant of God,
Dominic Savio, whom I recognise as my protector before God and the benefactor
of my family. I had recommended myself on several occasions to the pious Louis
Comollo, as others had done, and God in His goodness had always answered my
request; on many occasions also I recommended myself to Dominic Savio, and his
intercession with Our Lord on my behalf was always efficacious. Private motives
keep me from relating a number of facts; one however I must make known, both in
order to give to God that honour which is His due, and to glorify before
Christians the faithful servant, whom God Himself has deigned to make the
depository of His treasures. Here is the fact in question; in relating it I am
only saying what is absolutely true, and conscientiously stated. On the 8th
September, 1858, I caught a severe chill, which after keeping me confined to my
bed for some weeks, developed into fever. I tried the various treatments
prescribed by the doctors, but without avail. My delicate constitution and my
weak state of health soon brought me to a state of great weakness and left me
almost prostrate. Visits from medical men, consultations, change of air,
medicines, country, were all unavailing in my case. To my bodily ailments was
added anxiety of mind, consequent on my inability to attend to my duty as a
mother of a family. I was indeed unfortunate. Prostrate on a sick bed, all
hopes in doctors and medicines gone, nothing now remained for me but help from
Heaven, and this did not fail me. Only a few days before, a small book
containing the life of Dominic Savio had been published, and moved by the
virtues which he practised during life, and still more by the graces which
others had obtained through his intercession, I resolved to recommend myself to
him in order to obtain relief in my distress. On the night, therefore, of
February 20th, 1859, relying on the power of God, who grants His favours in
abundance through the intercession of those who have been faithful to Him in
life, urged on likewise by the need of comfort in my afflictions and relief in
my infirmities, I gave utterance to the following words: "O thou, who in a
few years of life didst attain to so high a degree of virtue, show forth the
power and goodness of God; let me know that thou art in heaven and that from
that happy place thou dost protect thy clients. Obtain from God that I may be
relieved of my infirmities and may recover my former state of health. I promise
that I will relate, whenever I am able, the favour which thou wilt obtain for
me from God." I had hardly finished these last words, when I felt a sort
of shivering through my whole body. I felt at once a great relief; my
infirmities vanished, the fever disappeared and a sweet sleep stole upon me, so
that I was able to spend that night in calm repose. In the morning I was
perfectly cured. Dr. Frola, who came to see me, was not a little astonished at
so great an improvement. "I do not know," he said, "what remedy
has been able to do you so much good. Certainly the finger of God has been
here." I got up from my bed and found myself in perfect health, after a
sickness which should have required some months at least of convalescence. Eight
months have elapsed since my cure, and up to the present, thank God, through
the intercession of that holy youth, Dominic Savio, I have not been subject to
ailments of any sort. All this that I have of my own accord here set down, I
desire to be published wherever it may be deemed to promote the greater glory
of God and the good of souls: and I am prepared to testify to the truth of the
same in the presence of any person whatsoever. I have subsequently on various
occasions had recourse to this heavenly benefactor and have always been heard.
May these facts serve to strengthen the faith of other faithful Christians, so
that they may have recourse to this source of blessings; and may they find in
their spiritual and temporal needs effectual help in him, who lived a holy life
on earth, and now in his glory protects us from heaven.
COUNTESS
BUSCHETTI née di Mazzenile. (Turin, 15 October, 1859.)
CURE
OF A SERIOUS EYE COMPLAINT.
It
was in 1858, about the end of May, that my eyes became seriously affected, and
the pain continued, sometimes diminishing, sometimes increasing, up to the
November of 1859. Beginning from the month of March of that year it increased
to such an extent that I was from the very outset constrained to lay aside all
studies, and later on to give them up altogether. In the early part of July my
affliction had increased to such an extent, that college life, which I had
before enjoyed, now appeared to me to be unbearable. Thus it came about, that,
owing to the state of my eyes, and the regret I felt at the sight of my
companions working for the approaching examinations, I had to go home: I
thought some improvement might follow, and indeed I did get slightly better,
but only for a short time. Four or five days had scarcely elapsed from the time
the improvement set in, when the malady again took a turn for the worse, and I
was not merely reduced to my former state, but to a far more deplorable one. I
then had recourse to several doctors. One of them required me to take about 400
pills of some particular make; I took them as prescribed and followed minutely
the directions given me, but all to no effect. I was bled four times, but
without avail. On five occasions I submitted to blistering operations behind
the ears without deriving any benefit thereby. I was at this time visited by
other well known eye specialists, amongst others Cavaliere Sperim, Dr. Fissore
and Dr. Paganini, but, after submitting me to various tests, they told me
plainly that the way to cure the disease with which I was afflicted was still
to them an unknown problem. Weary, then, at my hopeless plight I knew not where
to turn. My days were spent continually in a dark room. All amusement was a
source of horror to me and my eyes had become abnormally inflamed. Towards the
end of October I seemed to feel some improvement, and, with the hope of a
speedy and complete cure l returned to the college. A fortnight, however, had
hardly elapsed when my eyes again began to give me so much trouble that I felt
doubtful of ever being able to study again. I then had my arms blistered and
the operation was subsequently repeated; the same was done several times to my
ears, but no benefit resulted. I often spoke to the Director of the House about
it, and he, in order to console me, would address to me such words as he knew
would be to my temporal and spiritual advantage, encouraging me to be patient,
and holding out hopes of a speedy recovery. One evening, whilst all the boys
were engaged in some singing classes, I was sitting thoughtful and sad, with my
face buried in my hands, and leaning on the table near which the Director was
seated. Presently he arose, and coming quietly up to me, touched me on the
shoulder, smiling as he did so, and spoke to me as follows: "Why can we
not free you, once and for all, from this trouble? I wish to see the end of it.
Let us endeavour to take possession of Dominic Savio and not allow him to
depart until he has obtained your cure?" At these words I looked at him
steadfastly, but said nothing. Then he continued: "Yes, pray every day
during this novena (it was the eve of the first day of the novena for the feast
of the Immaculate Conception) to Dominic Savio, that he may intercede for you.
Endeavour to be in such a state as to be able to go to Communion every day of
this novena. In the evening, before retiring to bed, say these words:
"Dominic Savio, pray for me," and add one 'Hail Mary.' " I
promised to do this exactly, upon which he continued: "That is right, do
what I have told you and I will remember you every day of this novena in the
Holy Mass." "And who knows," he added, "whether this time
Dominic Savio will succeed in escaping us before you have been cured." On
the very day that I began to make the novena I felt an improvement in my
malady. I then continued the practices of piety with greater fervour, and was
soon rewarded for doing so, for in a few days my eyes were completely cured.
During the novena I had promised that, if, after a certain time, I had no
further relapse, I would do my best to have published, in honour of Dominic
Savio, the grace I had received from him.
I
now keep my promise, for the time fixed (1st February, 1860) has elapsed and I
am in perfect health. I hope that Dominic Savio will continue to bestow his
favours upon me, and I on my part shall do all that I can to show my gratitude
to him, striving to imitate him in those virtues of which he gave such a
striking example. Meanwhile let praise be rendered to God and to Dominic Savio,
through whose special protection I obtained this grace.
(Turin,
1st February, 1860).
Thank
God, my eyes are still in a perfectly healthy condition, and I hereby confirm
the above statement.
EDWARD
DONATA, of Saluggla. (Turin, March 20th, 1861).
INSTANTANEOUS
CURE OF TOOTHACHE.
Having
read the life of the holy youth Dominic Savio I conceived a deep veneration for
him. But a fact worthy of notice—a fact which has made me deeply indebted to
this heavenly Protector, is the one I am about to set down, with the request
that you will give it that publicity which you may think fit. On the morning of
Thursday, the 7th of April of the present year (1859) I had a slight attack of
headache. I paid no heed to it, thinking it was only a passing indisposition,
but it increased as the day went on, so that I was unable to work or to sleep
the following night. On getting up on Friday, with the pain ever increasing, I
was seized with such a sharp attack of toothache that although I went to class
I could neither study nor attend to the explanations given, nor to anything
else, so severe was the pain I experienced. The trouble went on increasing
until, in the evening, in sheer desperation, I was seized with a fit of
uncontrollable weeping. It was time for the evening class and I was wandering
aimlessly about the house, a prey to racking pain, when the prefect met me on
the balcony overlooking the playground. "Recommend yourself to Dominic
Savio," he said to me, for he understood the cause of my trouble.
"Recommend yourself to Dominic Savio; he can cure you if he wishes to do
so." I thanked him for this advice and reproached myself for not having
thought about it sooner. I hastened at once to Our Lady's altar, knelt down on
the step which had so often been hallowed by the presence of Savio, when he
used to withdraw to the silence of the sanctuary, his heart filled with
devotion towards her, by whose aid he succeeded in attaining the love, zeal and
piety which now form a crown of glory for him in heaven. Kneeling down there I
made the sign of the Cross and began to pray, determined, at any cost, to
obtain my cure, provided it were in accordance with the will of God. The pain
was then at its worst, but at the moment I was saying the words: "Sed
libera nos a malo," the aching pain suddenly ceased. My blood resumed its
usual course, the face assumed its natural proportions and I found myself cured
and at ease, without any trace remaining to remind me of the agony I had
suffered. How can I express the gratitude I then felt, and will ever feel,
towards young Savio! What esteem do I not furthermore owe to him, who so
speedily cured my body, for the good done to my soul! I beg you to take this
account into consideration, and make use of it in such a manner as you may
judge most suited to promote the glory of God, and confidence in the holy youth
Dominic Savio.
Obediently
yours,
MATTHEW
GALLEANO, of Caramangna
THE
TESTIMONY OF A MOTHER CONCERNING HER SON'S CURE.
My
only son had been lying sick in the hospital of SS. Maurice and Lazarus for
nearly a month. The cause of his illness was a rush of blood to the brain,
which made him delirious. Amongst other circumstances of his illness, one
deserving of special remark was that nothing could make him utter a word. No
one can imagine the sorrow of a mother who beholds heir only son a prey to a
disease which shows no hope of being cured. In my advanced years I should have
been left without help of any kind, and my life, in consequence would have been
a most unhappy one. One day, when under the weight of the deepest sorrow, I
went with some relatives to the hospital. Whilst we were by the patient's bed,
I heard how many times he had been bled, and at the sight of the death-like
pallor and emaciation of his features, I burst into tears and nothing seemed
able to console me. But thanks be to God, Who deigned to comfort me in an
unexpected manner and to change my sorrow into the greatest consolation! Some
little distance off I noticed a young man with a small book in his hands; he
went to a bed next to the one where my son was lying, and having opened the
book, showed to the patient a picture of a boy about fifteen years of age,
whose virtuous life was related in the book. He advised the patient to read and
to imitate the virtues of the boy who lived and died like a saint. At the sight
of the book and the picture I thought at once that the boy represented in it
was some saint, and approaching, I said to the one who held the book in his
hands, "for the love of God and of Our Blessed Lady give me one of those
books for my son." He answered that he would willingly do so, but that it
would be useless to give it to one in delirium to read, and that it would be
better for him to recommend himself to Domiriic Savio, imploring him to obtain
his cure. I at once approved of the proposal, and going close to my son I said
to him in a faltering voice: "My son; listen, recommend yourself to
Dominic Savio so that he may obtain your cure from God." At these words he
turned towards me, but remained for a few moments motionless. Then suddenly, to
the great surprise of those standing by and to my great consolation he said:
"I recommend myself to him." Words will not express the joy and
satisfaction which my heart experienced on hearing the voice of a son, whose
cure I had almost despaired of, on hearing that voice which for eighteen days
had not sounded in my ears. I then endeavoured to make him understand the
holiness and virtues of Savio, to whom we had both earnestly appealed. Shortly
afterwards there was a complete change, and he was entirely cured from a
disease which the doctors declared could only end in death or the asylum.
MARY
PAIRA. (Turin, April 10th, 1860).
SUDDEN CURE OF RUPTURE.
SUDDEN CURE OF RUPTURE.
Amongst
other favours obtained after recourse to Dominic Savio, the wonderful cure of a
young student deserves to be recorded. I, myself and many others were witnesses
of this fact, which is here described by the recipient of the favour.
Three
years ago I suffered from rupture, and though cured of it, I had undergone
intense pain on that account. But on February 20th of this year (1860), I was
attacked by the same complaint whilst at recreation in the playground. I could
not stand and was put to bed suffering intensely. The doctor was sent for, and
at his advice, everything was prepared for another operation; a carriage was
sent for to convey me to the hospital. The pain I was suffering at this time
was too great to bear, and a sort of delirium took possession of me; some
thought, in fact, that I was surely dying. But it was just then that I thought
of our deceased companion, Dominic Savio. I had read his life and knew all
about the favours he had obtained, so I appealed to him, saying: "If it be
true that you are in heaven, obtain some relief for me in this illness." I
then recited in his honour an Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory be to the
Father. I had scarcely finished the prayers, when a peaceful calm came over me,
and brought on a refreshing, sleep. But after a short time, I was awakened by
those who had been sent for to take me to the hospital. To their surprise I
said: "My pain has all gone." They found that I was perfectly cured, and
had it not been growing late, I should have got up again from bed. However, on
the following morning all traces of my attack had disappeared, and I arose with
the others in the best of health. I desire to offer my tribute of deep
gratitude to this faithful Servant of God.
CHARLES
BELLINO (Aosta).
A
DOUBLE CURE.
The
Very Rev. Don Rua, the first successor of Don Bosco, gives the following
account:
A
signal favour was obtained through the intercession of Dominic Savio in the
town of Chieri. A man, named Charles Bechio, had suffered for three years with
a very serious rupture. He could not apply himself to any work, for as soon as
he made the slightest effort, the pain became so acute that he could not stand
on his feet. He had already applied all the remedies suggested by doctors and
surgeons, but the illness only increased.
At
the beginning of this year he chanced to read the life of Dominic Savio, and
learning that many sick people had been cured by him, even instantaneously, he
felt his faith and confidence revive, and hoped to be favoured in the same way.
He began a novena at once for this end, and promised that if he were cured, he
would go to Don Bosco to attest the fact. In the very beginning of the novena
he noticed that his pains were diminishing, and an improvement had set in.
After three days he put aside his truss, and by the end of the novena was
perfectly cured, so that he could again undertake his work, which was of a very
vigorous and tiring nature. It was then the month of March, and from that time
has not been in the slightest pain. Moreover, Dominic did not only obtain for
him this temporal favour, but a spiritual one as well, of greater consequence.
For some years he had not approached the Sacrament of Penance, and felt such a
repugnance to do so, that nothing but a special grace would have been able to
conquer it. Accordingly he had recommended this intention also to Dominic, and
when his novena was over, all his old repugnance and hesitation disappeared,
and he felt a desire of drawing near to God. In fact he approached the
Sacraments of Penance and Holy Communion to his great consolation. The
undersigned has taken this down from the recipient of the grace, who is ready
to make any attestation required.
MICHAEL
RUA (Priest). (Turin, March 10th. 1861).
CURE OF A SERIOUS AFFLICTION OF THE EYES.
CURE OF A SERIOUS AFFLICTION OF THE EYES.
A
matter of great importance urges me to write to you. During January of this
year, I had been troubled with a painful malady of the eyes, and having tried
all material remedies in vain, I determined to have recourse to a spiritual
one. Remembering your former pupil, Dominic Savio, and the many graces
obtained. for those who invoked his intercession, I had recourse to him also.
It was on January 19th, and whilst in the act of prayer, it seemed that he bathed
my eyes in some miraculous manner, and from that moment the pain ceased and my
sight became quite clear and strong. It is my earnest wish that the foregoing
should be added to the accounts of other miracles worked by God for the glory
of his servant.
LAURENCE
PELAZZA. (Carmagnola, April 1861).
A
DANGEROUS ILLNESS OVERCOME.
Having
been requested by a number of prudent persons to inform you of a cure obtained
through the intercession of Dominic Savio, I would ask you to add it to the
other accounts sent to you. In July 1871, I was attacked by such a violent
cough that I could get no rest either night or day. The doctor was sent for,
and he consulted others, but there was no sign of improvement. After some days
I was evidently growing weaker and was troubled with catarrh, which made
breathing impossible. Acute bronchitis set in. I was unable to do anything but
a little reading, and so I picked up Dominic Savio's life, although it was
already familar to me. His virtuous life, and the favours he had obtained, naturally
suggested to me that I should have recourse to him in my illness, and I began a
triduum or three days of prayer. When the doctor came next he found such a
marked improvement, that he said it could not be due to human aid or power.
"It seems like an illusion," he said. The cough that had been racking
me for three months was gone, together with the bronchitis which was slowly
wearing me away; now, instead, I go about with sound and robust health,
blessing Savio for obtaining such a signal favour.
J.
B. PELLEGRINI (COMO).
Such
is the Ven. Don Bosco's narrative of the Life of Dominic Savio, and of some of
the favours obtained through his intercession. These favours have been
multiplied in the years that have passed; they have been influential in the progress
of the Cause of his Canonisation, which was formally introduced at Rome in
February last (1914). Much has been written about Dominic Savio, particularly
since that event, but we may well conclude by giving the Reader the words of
His Eminence the late Cardinal Parocchi, who wrote in 1895: "May the young
learn from Savio how to sanctify themselves, even in the midst of dangers, how
to join holiness with cheerfulness, frankness with reserve, dignity with
modesty, the interior life and intimate union with Our Lord with the diligent
exercise of external duties; let them learn of him to be beloved by God and
men, and thus to leave a holy memory to succeeding generations."
FINIS.
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