Saint Philomena

The martyrdom of Saint Philomena is known only through the symbols depicted on the sepulchral stone of which we have just spoken, and through revelations made to various persons by the Saint herself. At this word revelations, let no one be alarmed; for it is certain that from the beginning of the world, God has revealed to men many things that were known to Him alone. He has done so, says Saint Paul, in many places and in many ways; but especially in these latter days by His beloved Son. Now, what He has done for us so often, who would dare, even in our day, to contest His right to do so, or to forbid Him the exercise of it? If it is the smallness of man, or his unworthiness that one seeks to put forward against revelations, is our God not the God of infinite mercies?... Is man, however miserable he may be, not His child, the work of His hands and of His goodness, destined to be but one with Him in the blessed eternity? If it is the uselessness of these kinds of communications between God and man that is objected to, where are the proofs that one will give for it? Thus did not reason the learned and great pontiff Benedict XIV, whose words have suc h great we Benoît XIV Pope who beatified Jerome Emiliani. ight in these kinds of matters; for he thinks that revelations, if they are pious, holy, and advantageous to the salvation of souls, should be admitted in the processes that take place in Rome for the canonization of Saints. He did not, therefore, regard all revelations as useless. Now, if after mature examination, if after having consulted learned persons versed in these kinds of matters, if even, as happened for these, after having submitted them to ecclesiastical authority, one has obtained permission to publish them for the glory of Our Lord and for the edification of men, who would dare to say that such revelations, full moreover of piety and holiness, are useless and harmful? Ah! for pity's sake, let the faithful not deserve from the Holy Spirit the reproach He makes to the impious, of blaspheming what they do not know! We certainly do not wish for one to imitate the imprudence of those who indiscriminately admit everything they hear qualified by the name of revelation; this would be, we agree, the most dangerous of follies. But we must repeat with Saint Paul, that no revelation, any more than any prophecy, should be despised, and that one must give pious belief to those which, according to the rules approved by the Church and followed by the Saints, bear the marks of truth. Telles are the revelations of which we are going to speak, and which are found to be in perfect agreement with the hieroglyphs traced on the sepulchral stone. The first is an anchor, a symbol not only of strength and hope, but also of a kind of martyrdom such as that to which Trajan condemned Pope Saint Clement, thrown by his orders into the sea with an anchor tied to his neck. The second is an arrow which, saint Clément Pope and martyr cited in comparison for the miracle of the underwater tomb. on the tomb of the Martyrs of Jesus Christ, signifies a torment similar to that by which Diocletian tried to put to death the generous tribune of the first cohort, Saint Sebastian. The third is a palm, placed almost in the middle of the stone; it is the sign and as it were the messen saint Sébastien Martyr noted for his execution by arrows. ger of a brilliant victory won over the cruelty of the persecuting judges and the rage of the executioners. Below is a kind of whip used to scourge the guilty and whose straps, armed with lead, sometimes did not cease to furrow and bruise the bodies of innocent Christians until after having deprived them of life. Then come two other arrows arranged in such a way that the first has its point upward, and the second in the opposite direction. Would the repetition of this sign indicate a repetition of the same torments, and its arrangement, a miracle such as, for example, that which took place on Mount Gargano when a shepherd, having launched an arrow against a bull that had taken refuge in the cave since consecrated to Saint Michael, saw, as did several other people who were present, this same arrow return to him and fall at his feet? Finally, appears a lily, a symbol of innocence and virginity, which, by uniting with the palm and the blood-stained vase of which we have already made mention, proclaims the double triumph of Saint Philomena, over the flesh and over the world, and invites the Church to honor her under the glorious titles of Martyr and Virgin.

As for the three revelations that make known to us the history of our Saint, they were submitted to ecclesiastical authority, and permission was obtained to publish them for the glory of Our Lord and for the edification of men. They are in perfect agreement with the hieroglyphs traced on the sepulchral stone. They were given to three different persons, the first of whom is a young artisan well-known for the purity of his conscience and his solid piety; the second is a zealous priest, a canon, in 1836; the third, finally, is one of those virgins consecrated to God in an austere cloister, who was about thirty-four years old in that same year of 1836, and living in Naples. These three persons did not know each other, had never had the slightest connection between them, and lived in countries very distant from one another, and yet their accounts agreed in substance and in circumstances. We shall recount only the revelation made to the nun of Naples by our wonder-worker, though we do not know exactly how long after the discovery of these holy relics.

The holy Martyr had for a long time given this nun several tangible marks of a very particular protection; she had delivered her from the temptations of distrust and impurity by which God had wished to further purify His servant, and in the painful state to which these attacks of Satan had brought her, she had caused the sweetness of joy and peace to follow. In the intimate communications which, at the feet of the crucifix, took place between these two spouses of the Savior, the Saint gave her advice full of wisdom, sometimes on the direction of the community with which this nun had been charged by her superiors, sometimes on her personal conduct. What they conversed about most often together was the value of virginity, the means Saint Philomena had used to keep it always intact, even in the midst of the greatest perils, and the immense goods that are found in the cross and in all the fruits it bears.

These extraordinary graces, granted to a soul who, penetrated by her miseries, judged herself totally unworthy of them, made her fear illusion. She resorted to prayer and to the prudence of those whom God had given her as guides for her conscience, and while her wise directors submitted to a slow and judicious examination the various favors with which heaven had honored this nun, revelations of another nature were made to her through the intercession of the same Saint; they all tended to make her name more glorious.

The person of whom we speak had in her cell a small statue of Saint Philomena made on the model of her holy body, as it is seen in Mugnano, and more than once the whole community had noticed with admiration on the face of this same statue alterations that seemed to them to partake of the miraculous. This had inspired in them all the pious desire to expose it in their church, celebrating it with the greatest possible solemnity. The feast took place, and since then the miraculous statue remained on its altar. The good nun, on days of communion, would go before it in thanksgiving; and one day when a vivid desire formed in her heart to know the precise time of the Saint's martyrdom, so that, she told herself, her devotees could honor her more particularly, suddenly her eyes closed

without her being able, despite all her efforts, to reopen them, and a voice full of sweetness, which seemed to her to come from the place where the statue was, addressed these words to her: "My dear sister, it was on the 10th of the month of August that I died to live and that I entered triumphant into heaven, where my divine Spouse put me in possession of those eternal goods, incomprehensible to human intelligence. It was also for this reason that His admirable wisdom so arranged the circumstances of my translation to Mugnano that, despite the set plans of the priest who had obtained my mortal remains, I arrived in that city, not on the 3rd of this month, as he had fixed, but on the 10th; nor to be placed quietly in the oratory of the house, as he also wished, but in the church where I am venerated, and in the midst of cries of universal joy, accompanied by so many wonderful circumstances that made the day of my martyrdom a day of true triumph."

These words, which carried with them proofs of the truth that had dictated them, renewed in the heart of the nun the fear she had already had of finding herself in illusion. She redoubled her prayers and begged her director to disabuse her; the means was easy. They therefore wrote to Dom Francis, the priest of whom the Saint had spoken, and, while recommending secrecy regarding what had taken place, they conjured him to answer clearly about the circumstances of the revelation that related to the resolutions he had taken. He found them perfectly in agreement with the truth, and his answer not only consoled the afflicted nun, but also encouraged her directors to profit, for the glory of God and of Saint Philomena, from the means that she herself seemed to indicate to them, in order to better know the details of her life and her martyrdom.

They therefore ordered the same person to make the most urgent requests to the Saint to this end; and as obedience, as the holy books say, is always victorious, one day when she was in her cell in prayer to obtain this grace, her eyes closing again despite her resistance, she heard the same voice that said to her:

"My dear sister, I am the daughter of a prince who governed a small state in Greece. My mother was also of royal blood, and as they found themselves without children, both still idolaters, they continually offered sacrifices and prayers to their false gods to have some. A doctor from Rome, named Publius, now in paradise, lived in the palace and was in my father's service. He professed Christianity. Seeing the affliction of my parents, and deeply touched by their blindness, he began, by the impulse of the Holy Spirit, to speak to them of our faith and went so far as to promise them offspring if they consented to receive baptism. The grace that accompanied these words enlightened their understanding and triumphed over their will; and, having become Christians, they had the happiness so desired, of which Publius had promised their conversion would be the pledge. At the moment of my birth, I was given the name Lumena, in allusion to the light of the faith of which I had, so to speak, been the fruit, and on the day of my baptism I was called Philomena, or Daughter of Light (Filia luminis), since on that day I was born to the faith! The tenderness my father and mother bore me was so great that they always wanted to have me near them. This was the reason they took me with them to Rome, on a journey my father was forced to make on the occasion of an unjust war with which he saw himself threatened by the proud Diocletian. I was then thirteen years old. Arrived in the capita Dioclétien Roman emperor under whom the martyrdom is said to have taken place. l of the world, we all three went to the emperor's palace, who admitted us to his audience. As soon as Diocletian caught sight of me, his gaze fixed upon me, and he appeared thus preoccupied during the entire time my father took to explain to him with warmth all that could serve his defense. As soon as he had ceased speaking, the emperor replied that he need no longer worry, but that, banishing all fear henceforth, he should think only of living happily. 'I will place,' he added, 'all the forces of the empire at your disposal, and, in return, I ask of you only one thing: it is the hand of your daughter.' My father, dazzled by an honor he was very far from expecting, immediately and very willingly acceded to the emperor's proposal; and when we had returned to our home, they, my mother and he, did everything they could to make me condescend to the will of Diocletian and their own. 'What then?' I said to them, 'do you want me, for the love of a man, to fail the promise I made to Jesus Christ two years ago? My virginity belongs to Him, I can no longer dispose of it.' — 'But,' my father replied, 'you were then too much a child to contract such an engagement.' And he joined the most terrible threats to the order he gave me to accept Diocletian's offer. The grace of my God rendered me invincible; and my father, having been unable to make that prince accept the reasons he alleged to be released from the word given, found himself obliged by his order to lead me before him.

"I had to sustain, a few moments later, a new assault of his fury and his tenderness. My mother, in concert with him, strove to overcome my resolution. Caresses, threats, everything was employed to reduce me. Finally, I saw them both fall at my knees, and they said to me, with tears in their eyes: 'My daughter, have pity on your father, your mother, your country, our subjects.' — 'No, no,' I replied to them, 'God and the virginity I have vowed to Him above all, before you, before my country! My kingdom is heaven.' My words plunged them into despair, and they led me before the emperor, who also did everything in his power to win me over; but his promises, his seductions, and his threats were equally useless. He then entered into a violent fit of anger and, pushed by the demon, had me thrown into one of the prisons of his palace, where soon I saw myself covered in chains. Believing that pain and shame would weaken the courage that my divine Spouse inspired in me, he came to see me every day, and then, after having me untied so that I might take the little bread and water he gave me for all nourishment, he recommenced his attacks, some of which, without the grace of God, could have become fatal to my virginity. The defeats he always experienced were for me the prelude to new torments; but prayer sustained me; I did not cease to recommend myself to my Jesus and to His most pure Mother. My captivity had lasted for thirty-seven days when, in the midst of a celestial light, I saw Mary holding her divine Son in her arms: 'My daughter,' she said to me, 'three more days of prison, and after these forty days you will leave this painful state.' Such happy news made my heart beat with joy; but when the Queen of Angels added that I would leave it to sustain, in frightful torments, a combat even more terrible than the preceding ones, I passed suddenly from joy to the most cruel anxieties; I thought they were going to make me die. 'Courage then, my daughter,' Mary then said to me, 'are you ignorant of the love of predilection I have for you? The name you received at baptism is the pledge of it, by the resemblance it has to that of my Son and to mine. You are called Lumena, as your spouse is called Light, Star, Sun; as I am also called Dawn, Star, Moon in the fullness of its splendor, and Sun. Do not fear, I will help you. Now nature, whose weakness humbles you, claims its rights; at the moment of the combat, grace will come to lend you its strength; and your Angel, who was also mine, Gabriel, whose name expresses strength, will come to your aid; I will recommend you specially to his care, as my daughter beloved among others.' These words of the Queen of Virgins restored my courage, and the vision disappeared, leaving my prison filled with a most celestial perfume."

"What had been announced to me did not take long to come to pass. Diocletian, despairing of bending me, resolved to have me tormented publicly, and the first torture to which he condemned me was that of the scourging. 'Since she is not ashamed,' he said, 'to prefer to an emperor such as I, a criminal condemned by his nation to an infamous death, she deserves that my justice treat her as he was treated.' He ordered, therefore, that I be stripped of my garments, that I be bound to the column, and, in the presence of a great number of gentlemen of his court, he had me beaten with such violence that my bloodied body offered nothing but a single wound. The tyrant, having noticed that I was about to faint and die, had me immediately removed from his sight and dragged back to prison, where he believed I would draw my last breath. But he was deceived in his expectation, as I was in the sweet hope I had of soon going to join my Spouse, for two Angels resplendent with light appeared to me and, pouring a healing balm upon my wounds, they rendered me more vigorous than I was before the torment. The next morning, the emperor was informed of this: he had me brought into his presence, considered me with astonishment, then sought to persuade me that I owed my healing to the Jupiter he adores. 'He absolutely wants you,' he said, 'as Empress of Rome'; and joining to these seductive words the most honorable promises and the most flattering caresses, he strove to consummate the infernal work he had begun; but the divine Spirit, to whom I owed my constancy, filled me then with so much light that, to all the proofs I gave of the solidity of our faith, neither Diocletian nor any of his courtiers found anything to answer. He then fell into a fury again and commanded that I be buried, with an anchor at my neck, in the waters of the Tiber. The order was executed; but God permitted that it could not succeed, for, at the moment I was cast into the river, two Angels came again to my aid, and, after having cut the rope that bound me to the anchor, while the latter fell to the bottom of the Tiber where it has remained until now, they carried me gently, in the sight of an immense crowd, to the banks of the river. This prodigy worked happy effects on a great number of spectators, and they converted to the faith; but Diocletian, attributing it to some secret magic, had me dragged through the streets of Rome and then ordered that a hail of arrows be shot at me. I was all bristling with them, my blood flowed from all sides; exhausted, dying, he commanded that I be carried back to my dungeon. Heaven honored me there with a new grace. I entered into a sweet sleep, and I found myself, upon waking, perfectly healed. Diocletian learned of it: 'Well!' he cried then in a fit of rage, 'let her be pierced a second time with sharp darts, and let her die in this torture.' They hastened to obey him. The archers bent their bows, gathered all their strength; but the arrows refused to second them. The emperor was present; he raged at this spectacle, he called me a sorceress; and, believing that the action of fire could destroy the enchantment, he ordered that the darts be reddened in a furnace and then directed a second time against me. They were indeed; but these darts, after having crossed a part of the space they were to travel, suddenly took the opposite direction and flew to strike those who had launched them. Six of the archers died from them, several of them renounced paganism, and the people began to render public testimony to the power of God who had protected me. These murmurs and acclamations made the tyrant fear some further unfortunate accident and he hastened to end my days by ordering that my head be cut off. Thus my soul flew toward its celestial Spouse, who, with the crown of virginity and the palms of martyrdom, gave me a distinguished rank among the elect whom He causes to enjoy His divine presence. The day, so happy for me, of my entry into glory was a Friday, and the hour of my death, the third in the afternoon (that is to say, the same that saw His divine Master expire)."

As the Saint herself revealed, the translation of her relics to Mugnan o del Cardinale, in t Mugnano del Cardinale Main center of the cult and resting place of the relics. he diocese of Nola, did not take place without miracles. One of her greatest was to perform none in a church in Naples to indicate that she should not be left in that city; as soon as she was taken out of the church and placed in a simple oratory with the intention of transporting her to Mugnano, three miraculous healings were obtained. During the journey, one of those carrying Philomena's body, who had been ill since the day before the departure, was healed. People were also astonished by the lightness of the precious burden. "Oh! how light the Saint is," the bearers said, "she weighs no more than a feather." At night, a column of light guided the casket through thick darkness. At the village of Cimitié, it became so heavy that all arms were useless to lift it; but some inhabitants of Mugnano having joined the exhausted bearers, it immediately regained its former lightness. The day before her arrival in that city, while the bells were being rung in her honor, an abundant rain, requested by the inhabitants, followed a long drought. When she appeared and was uncovered, the eager crowd rushed around her, crying: "Heavens! how beautiful she is!... what a heavenly beauty!" But suddenly a horrible hurricane formed, no doubt under the breath of evil spirits; it descended upon the frightened multitude and even headed toward the casket. It was soon repelled by an invisible hand and went to expire on a nearby mountain, where some trees were uprooted. From that happy day on, the town of Mugnano was the scene of wonders that would be too long to recount. Let us cite only those where the amiable Providence seems to have played to surround, on earth, its beloved virgin with some rays of that glory which she enjoys in heaven. The bones of our Martyr were covered with a figured body, which the unskilled hand of the worker had made too small, lacking elegance, and placed in an attitude that did not appear sufficiently decent. The magnificent garments with which she was adorned could not entirely compensate for these defects. Now, one morning in 1814, strangers saw the holy body modestly seated, which until then had remained lying down; all the ornaments had followed this miraculous movement to give the Saint a more graceful pose. What are we saying! The face had lost its initial features; the chin had rounded like that of a young person sleeping; the lips, which previously made the face deformed, now opened with a marvelous grace which, joined to the amiability of the physiognomy and the brilliant coloring of the cheeks, once whitish, pleasantly flattered the eyes; the hair, previously hidden for the most part, either behind the neck or beyond the left shoulder, then showed itself entirely and floated here and there with an elegant lightness; and yet the four seals of the Bishop of Potenza remained perfectly intact, and the key to the casket was in Naples; heaven had taken care that the miracle was evident to the most incredulous. That is not all: soon it was noticed that the Saint's clothes were falling into rags; an invisible hand detached a piece here and there every day; God, jealous of the external glory of the holy body, indicated by this that it had to be clothed with new magnificence. This was taken up seriously. But a difficulty arose: while taking measurements, it was observed that the Saint's hair, perfectly arranged toward the right shoulder, left some void on the left, because of the small number of silk hairs that had been put there when she was dressed for the first time. To supplement it with human hair did not seem appropriate; time did not allow for obtaining silk hair. In this embarrassment, on the eve of Pentecost, at the moment when the holy relics were uncovered, one saw again the care of Providence, care minute to the eyes of human wisdom, but admirable to those of faith; new and long locks of hair appeared on the side where this void had previously been seen, which one despaired of being able to fill. They seemed freshly washed and combed; their luster and beautiful arrangement spread a new grace over the exterior of the Saint. People cried out, and with good reason, of a miracle, when it was noticed several times that the Saint became not only more beautiful, but much larger than before. One day, we do not know what severity suddenly came to obscure the features, previously so radiant, of our Saint. The faithful immediately began to pray; this prayer of humble hearts was answered: on the spot the cloud dissipated, the first serenity reappeared; nothing more attractive than the amiability of the virgin; the joy of heaven radiated on her face, joy caused by the conversion of a sinner who declared, with tears in his eyes and in the humblest tone, that, incredulous an instant before, he had been touched by the prodigy. His heart, opened to the truth, poured itself out in thanksgiving to the Saint. He begged her to accept a rich offering for the embellishment of her altar.

We could cite an infinity of similar miracles: one would see not only sinners, but also apostles of impiety changed inwardly, in such a marvelous way that they subsequently became zealous apostles of virtue. Several times, marvelous movements also occurred in the eyes of the Thaumaturge, and this was when some extraordinary favors were asked of her. One evening the sky was obscured by so many clouds and the rain was falling in such great abundance that, despite six large lit candles, one could only see very imperfectly the cherished features of the one being invoked. All those present were sad, when suddenly a ray of light, gushing from a large window facing the East, came to shine on the face of the Saint and allowed it to be contemplated at leisure. That was a first miracle, because the sun was in the West. It was accompanied by a second, no less prodigious; for one saw at that moment, in a very distinct manner, the eyes of the Virgin martyr open eight different times and with an admirable vivacity. The inhabitants of Castel-Vetere, during a procession, admired the same prodigy on an image of Saint Philomena. She opened her eyes, and flashes of light came out of them that penetrated souls and gave birth to the most delicious feelings. The women stripped themselves of all the ornaments they had, and threw them onto the stretcher as a sign of their gratitude and devotion to the Saint; the rest of the procession was as if seized with tenderness and respect. The day before this procession, a distinguished lady from Fontemarano, who had been suffering for three months, seeing her pains become more acute, had lost all courage and had cried out: "All remedies are useless to me; there is no Saint in paradise who has pity on me. Jesus, send me death, life has become too burdensome for me." Finishing these words, she fell into a deep sleep; and then a young and amiable virgin appeared before her, accompanied by two angels who, looking at her with a severe air: "It is therefore quite true," she said to her, "that you have found no Saint in heaven who was interested in you!..." Then, smiling, she added: "Kiss this image of the virgin and martyr Saint Philomena, and you will obtain the grace you desire." The lady kissed it with respect, and immediately the two angels, applauding, cried out: "The grace is granted! the grace is granted!" It was indeed. Upon waking, no more pain, no more suffering. This lady and her husband came to Castel-Vetere to take part in the feast and publicly thank the Thaumaturge for the benefit they had received from her.

Several times, when the statues of the Saint were carried on stretchers, the streets that were too narrow seemed to widen; at least the Saint passed through them with ease as if in a large square. In Lucera, devotion to Saint Philomena spread through a large number of miracles. A canon, near death from a chest disease, was healed by applying the image of our Saint to the diseased part. Many incredulous people who mocked these wonders were converted by these very wonders. One of these men, whose family, full of confidence in our Saint, venerated her image in a small oratory, often repeated that believing in such nonsense was an indication of a small mind. One day it seemed to him, while sleeping, that he was in the church; he saw the holy Martyr surrounded by a large number of people. All were asking her for some favor, and all were returning fully satisfied. Desiring, he too, to see something he had very much at heart realized, he approached and addressed his prayer to her. "Away from here! away from here!" the angry Virgin immediately replied to him. "Are you no longer that man who adds no faith to the wonders that I perform? What! you dare to ask me for graces!..." These words, pronounced in a severe tone, made the most vivid impression on his heart, and he woke up. He was no longer the same man. From that moment on, he judged in a completely different way; he did not cease to weep for his error, and through the tenderness of his devotion to the Thaumaturge, he obtained many favors from her.

It often happened that the oil burning in the lamps of Saint Philomena multiplied miraculously. It was the same for the images that reproduced her features, and for the books that recounted her history and her miracles. One cannot help but see that our Saint, following the example of her divine Spouse, had a particular predilection for small children. A poor mother had recommended hers to her, and he had died despite her prayers. Grief, instead of extinguishing her faith, rekindled it; she ran to the image of the Saint, hanging on a wall, took it down, and, throwing it onto the corpse that was the object of her grief, she asked with loud cries and torrents of tears that this cherished son be returned to her. At the same instant, the little dead boy rose as if he were coming out of his sleep; he threw himself off the bed, and the eyes that were already weeping over him saw him not only resurrected, but without the slightest symptom of illness. What happened in Monteforte is no less marvelous. The daughter of Lelio Gesualdo and Antonio Valentino, then twelve months old, escaped from the arms that were carrying her and fell into the street: the height was twenty-four palms. The fall must have been very rapid, for the child, hitting her head against a brick pipe while passing, detached several shards from it; from there she fell back onto the pebbles of the pavement, when her mother, present at this deplorable scene, cried out from the top of the house: "My good Saint Philomena, this child is yours if you save her for me!" The father of little Fortunata, who happened to be in the street at the same instant, uttered the same cry in his fright, and running toward the child who was lying on the ground, he seized her, examined her, saw no wound, no contusion on her; there was no other sign of her fall on the little girl's whole body than the fracture of a silver ornament she had around her neck.

Our Saint declared herself above all the mother of the little girls who bear her name. In 1830, little Philomena Tedesco having pierced her eye with scissors, the ailment was judged incurable by the doctors. But the child was suddenly healed by washing herself with oil taken from the Saint's lamp; everyone even noticed that there was something more lively and brilliant in that eye than in the other. A poor woman named Thérèse Bovini had recommended herself to the Saint, and had explained to her that she did not have the slightest rag to cover the child she was about to bring into the world. The child saw the light of day before the prayer was answered, one did not know with what to cover her; finally, one searched in a chest where the mother said one should find something worn and half-torn. What was the astonishment of the person who opened it upon seeing a small layette where nothing was missing, neither for cleanliness nor for arrangement, nor even for elegance! A smell so sweet came out of it that the air was perfumed by it. She took this treasure, she kissed it; the mother, at the height of joy, did the same, and did not know how to show her gratitude to her celestial benefactress. The child, thus richly swaddled, was carried to the baptismal font; the news of the miracle spread, and people came from all sides to see, kiss the marvelous swaddling clothes, and breathe the celestial perfume they exhaled. The Saint did not stop there. The following night, Thérèse was awakened by the whimpering of the little creature. By the light of the poor lamp that illuminated the apartment, she searched with her eyes for the child, who was no longer in the place where she had put her. Uncertain, timid, she turned to another side, and she saw, oh wonder! a young person dressed in white and of a completely celestial beauty. Her arms supported the little girl, and with her hands she caressed her lovingly. What consideration for the poor mother! Seized with respect, joy, confusion, and gratitude, she could only cry out: "Ah! Saint Philomena!" And Saint Philomena, then rising from the chair where she was seated, gave a kiss to the child, put her back in her place, and disappeared. Thérèse, for several days, was in a kind of ecstasy.

But the miracle, without contradiction, the greatest of all those that the Lord has performed in favor of the holy Martyr, is the astonishing rapidity with which her cult has spread. Similar to light, which in a few moments crosses the immense space that exists from heaven to earth, the name of Saint Philomena, especially since the miraculous (and well-attested) sweat that was seen in 1823 on one of her statues erected in the church of Mugnano, has reached the ends of the earth in a few years. The books that speak of her miracles, the images where she is depicted, have been carried by zealous missionaries to China, to Japan, and to several Catholic establishments in America and Asia. In Europe, her cult continues to extend every day, not only in the countryside and villages, but also in the most illustrious and populous cities. The great and the small, the pastors as well as their flocks, unite to honor her. At their head, one sees cardinals, archbishops, bishops, heads of religious orders, and ecclesiastics commendable for their dignities, their knowledge, and their virtues. From the height of the Christian pulpit, the most eloquent orators proclaim her glory, and all the faithful who know her, especially in the kingdom of Naples and in the neighboring countries, where they are counted by the millions, give her with a common voice the name of Thaumaturge. France has a great devotion for our holy Thaumaturge; one finds her statue or her image in many of our churches, and after the medals of the Immaculate Mother of God, there are few that the faithful seek with more eagerness than those of Saint Philomena. Let us cite, among the churches or chapels of our country that are dedicated under the name of Saint Philomena and are at the same time a place of pilgrimage: Saint-Philomène of Ars; of Fourvières, in Lyon; of Saint-Gervais, in Paris; of Sempigny, near Noyon (Oise); of Le Thivet (Haute-Marne); of Neuville-sur-Seine (Aube); of Saulles (Haute-Marne); of Lavilleneuve-au-Roi (Haute-Marne), etc. Saint Philomena is above all the patroness of the little ones and the innocent. Children, struck by some ailment in their bodies, have often obtained their healing through her intercession; young girls who keep the delicate flower of honor without stain have also chosen her as their patroness. In Italy, in all the surroundings of the city of Lugnano, where her cult is held in such high honor, young girls have placed themselves under the authority of this holy memory, in a sort of spiritual community whose principal rule is the strictest observance of the vow of chastity. They are known in Italy under the name of Monacelle di santa Filomena, that is to say, young religious of Saint Philomena. In Neuville-sur-Seine, in the diocese of Troyes, a chapel was erected in her honor in 1844. Since that time, the name of the young virgin-martyr is on everyone's lips. Her devotion has won all hearts; her medals, her images, her litanies are found in every house, and mothers are happy to place their daughters under her powerful patronage. Each year, a preparatory triduum begins on August 7, and on the 11th of the same month, from dawn until noon, a large number of priests from the neighboring localities offer to God the holy sacrifice of the Mass, imploring the suffrages of the glorious martyr whose few bones rest under the altar. Great spiritual advantages attract numerous pilgrims to this place. Without speaking of the privileged altar that any secular or regular priest can enjoy every day of the year, our Holy Father Pope Pius IX, by a rescript from Rome dated April 26, 1852, has deigned to grant the favor of a Plenary Indulgence for all the faithful who, coming on pilgrimage to the chapel of Sa Pie IX Pope who canonized Josaphat in 1867. int Philomena, will receive Holy Communion there during the octaves of the feast of Saint Philomena, that is to say from August 11 to 18, and of the anniversary of the blessing of the chapel, that is to say from September 11 to 18. His Holiness Pius IX also grants an indulgence of one hundred days, which may be gained every day, to all those who visit the chapel, provided they are at least contrite of heart.

In Ars, in th Ars Famous pilgrimage site in France associated with the Curé d'Ars. e chapel of Saint Philomena, which possesses a considerable portion of her bones, one can see the most beautiful scenes of the Saint's life, reproduced on the eight walls of the delightful dome of this chapel. In the first painting, the Emperor Diocletian, seated on his throne, offers a golden crown to Philomena and announces to her that, delighted by her graces, he has chosen her to raise her to the rank of empress. The Saint remains indifferent to such flattering advances and pushes away the brilliant diadem with disdain. She declares that she will never have any spouse other than Jesus Christ, the immortal King of the ages.

In the second painting, Diocletian, furious at experiencing a refusal he was far from expecting, calls for archers and orders them to pierce this ungrateful girl with flaming arrows. Here the scene becomes vivid: Philomena appears tied to a post, her expression is calm, one might almost say saintly proud; her entire attitude breathes courage pushed to the point of heroism. The arrows fly, leaving behind them a long luminous trail. But, astonishing thing! These darts turn back upon themselves and go to pierce the executioners, who fall expiring at the feet of the young Virgin. Philomena, at the sight of the miracle, recollects herself and gives thanks to her God.

In the third painting, Diocletian, disconcerted by the news of the prodigy, has the heroine locked in a dark dungeon. She is seen in a contemplative attitude, in the midst of these shadows. One would say an athlete, resting peacefully after a glorious and painful combat.

In the fourth painting, the scene represents the Tiber river. A vessel carries Philomena to the middle of the waves. There, the tyrant's satellites, attaching a heavy anchor to the neck of the innocent victim, cast her to the bottom of the waters. But three angels watch over the salvation of the heroic virgin. One of them breaks the anchor chain and gently carries the Saint to the shore. The other two rush upon the boat and submerge it with all those who are on board. The expression of happiness painted on the face of the miraculously delivered Philomena, and the despair of the executioners who are sinking, form a happy contrast.

The fifth painting depicts the beheading of the Saint. She bows her head with an eagerness mixed with joy; one can see that she is impatient to reach the end of her combats.

The sixth painting represents the funeral procession carrying the body of the Saint, so gloriously mutilated. The scene takes place in the midst of darkness; it is during the night that the touching procession heads toward the catacombs. Two groups of virgins accompany the Virgin martyr; one of them carries with respect the sacred vial that contains the blood of the new heroine. Sorrow and recollection are painted on every brow.

The seventh painting represents the catacombs. A sculptor, in ancient costume, carves on the stone, behind which rests the body of the Saint, this name of Philomena, which was to remain sixteen centuries buried in the shadows, and then become so famous. A guardian of the catacombs holds in his hand an earthen lamp that casts a few pale glimmers on this silent scene.

The eighth painting represents heaven. It is the apotheosis of the young Saint. Diocletian believes he has crushed the young Virgin under the weight of his powerful anger. Unable to succeed in overcoming her virtue, he has broken her under the axe of his executioner! And yet, at the moment when he seems to triumph, the heroine enters into glory and takes possession of an immortal throne. There, she contemplates face to face the God whom she preferred to all the glories of the earth, and the blessed Spirits, delighted by the triumphs of her love, throw lilies, palms, and crowns at her feet.

One can also see in the chapel of Ars a bas-relief that represents the young martyr at the moment when she is gathered and deposited by the angels on the bank of the Tiber. The virginal body, of admirable suppleness and flexibility, seems to transfigure itself under the gaze, at the contact of the angelic hands that lift it. The ornamentation that accompanies it is of exquisite taste and charming poetry: it is a border of lilies and doves.

The churches of Liéttres (Pas-de-Calais); of the Madeleine, in Paris; of the Sacred Heart, in Amiens, etc., possess some of her relics.

We have drawn this summary from the Life and Miracles of Saint Philomena, Virgin and Martyr, nicknamed the Thaumaturge of the 19th Century, translated from the Italian by M. B. F. B., of the Society of Jesus, and we have completed it with the Annals of the Holiness of the 19th Century, and the Lives of the Saints of Troyes, by the Abbé Defer. — Cf. Abbé J. Darche, Very Complete Life of Saint Philomena, Virgin and Martyr, Paris, Régis Ruillet, 1867.