Saint Rose of Viterbo

Rose advanced less in age than in virtue. Her heart was so filled with her God that she thought only of Him and loved only to hear Him spoken of. From this came the great taste she felt for retreat and the lively pleasure she experienced in going to church, especially that of Saint Francis, for whom she had a sin Saint François Founder of the Order of Friars Minor. gular devotion.

When she attended the celebration of the divine mysteries, one could see that her recollection and transports redoubled as she appreciated their holiness and grandeur more. At times, fully absorbed in the adoration of the sovereign Majesty present, she appeared as if annihilated: everything was silent in her limbs, on her lips, and in her features. At other times, with panting chest, gaze fixed intently on the altar, face ardent, mouth half-open, it seemed that her soul, incapable of resisting the fire that devoured it, was on the point of leaving her body to rush toward the divine object of its love.

As soon as this pious child was capable of performing acts of virtue, the first care of the heavenly Father was to lead her to make herself in all things conformable to Jesus, her divine model. Thus, she took up early the resolution to imitate Him in His humility, His silence, His spirit of poverty, His love for suffering, and His obedience to her parents. From the tenderest age, she manifested a great detachment from the world, its conversations, its amusements, and its vanities. If she even fled the company of little girls of her age, it was certainly not out of pride. Finding, on the contrary, nothing in herself that she had not received, she considered herself a worm of the earth worthy of the contempt and reprobation of all.

Although her parents were not in a position to give her any superfluity, she always complained of too great an abundance. She therefore came to constitute herself very poor even in the midst of her poverty. Covered by a simple robe of very rough and coarse wool, which served less to preserve decency than to tear her flesh, she walked, winter and summer, barefoot, head uncovered, and hair in disarray given over to the caprice of the winds. This more than ordinary simplicity in clothing was accompanied by a no less astonishing simplicity in food. As she never accepted food more suited to flatter the taste than to sustain her strength, one was forced to resort to violence to make her take what was necessary. She was content most often with a little bread for her day, thus preluding those severe mortifications, those incredible fasts to which she was to surrender herself later. "Those who are of Jesus Christ," says Saint Paul, "crucify their flesh." It would not be enough, therefore, for our holy child to humble it in the eyes of all and deprive it of everything; she had to torture it by scourging it. To the hair shirt, she consequently joined the discipline.

But if she is filled with a holy cruelty against herself, her compassionate and sensitive soul is moved with the most touching tenderness toward the suffering members of Jesus Christ. The slightest trouble, the lightest pain in her neighbor, is enough to make her turn pale or draw tears from her. To relieve them, she always begins by imploring the help of the Almighty for herself, and then addresses to them the most affectionate and consoling words. Although she was very small, older people listened to her with pleasure, because one felt that it was more than the soul of a child speaking through her mouth. But one can say that, if she succeeded in healing many wounds and in making joy and hope reborn in afflicted hearts, it is because, from the very first, she became infirm with the infirm, suffering with those who suffered.

It was also toward the poor that her incomprehensible charity shone forth. Considering her divine Jesus in their person, she loved them more than herself. Despite her poverty, she always found the means to help them. Those who could not go to beg for public charity, because they were kept at home by some infirmity, excited her compassion more particularly. She had their dwelling pointed out to her, and brought them, whatever the weather, always barefoot and head uncovered, through rain, ice, and snow, everything she had been able to procure. When she perceived them in the streets, without waiting for them to come to humble themselves by holding out a suppliant hand, she ran to meet them, approached them with an affable air, and after addressing a few words to them imbued with the most respectful tenderness, she furtively slipped them everything she possessed. Most often, it was only the little piece of bread she had accepted for her day, and whose pious use she carefully hid from her mother. As the needy knew her extreme kindness, they came each day in quite a good number before her door. When her parents were absent, she took all the provisions and distributed them to them with as much pleasure and joy as if she herself had received the most precious treasures. But when her father or mother were at home, the portion was naturally much less abundant. Then, she accompanied her offering with words so cordial and so tender, the sentiment that was painted on her features was so filled with sadness and pain, that the unfortunate, astonished, withdrew quite satisfied and very content. They celebrated her everywhere as charity itself personified in the soul of a child.

But if Rose was full of tenderness and charity for the poor, we can say that she carried to the highest degree the love, respect, and obedience that a child owes to her parents. Vividly convinced that they were for her the most august representatives of God on earth, she manifested to them by her words and actions those sentiments of pious deference, sincere esteem, and perfect veneration that she held for them from the depths of her soul. With what perspicacity did she not foresee their needs to provide for them! With what promptitude, what good grace, did she not execute their orders, did she not anticipate their desires! Outpourings of heart, sweet words, amiable manners, smiling airs, she had recourse to all means to testify to them that great, vast, profound affection with which she was penetrated toward them.

The example of so many virtues already caused her to be venerated as a saint. From all sides, people gathered on the paths she was to travel to see or hear her. This eagerness caused her neither confusion nor vainglory, but it pained her because it interrupted the continuity of her conversations with her God. The powerful attraction she had for the contemplative life drew her toward retreat; from the age of seven, she decided to shut herself away.

At that time, there was only one convent in Viterbo: the one where her father and mother were employed as servants. The nuns who lived there were originally only young girls who had gathered under the guidance of a pious lady to edify one another through the practice of virtues. But, increasingly desirous of rising to perfection, they committed themselves to observing the enclosure, constrained themselves to a life of poverty, and adopted the Rule of Saint Damian, a religious of the Order of Saint Benedict. It is for this reason that, in confirming their institute, Pope Gregory IX gave them the title of Nuns of Saint Damian. The people of Viterbo were so impressed by the calm and holy life of these good Sisters that, fearing they might be forced to disperse for lack of space and air, they built them, at the city's expense, a monastery and a church known as Saint Mary of the Roses.

Our little child made incredible efforts to enter this pious retreat; but God, wh o wanted to lead her t Sainte-Marie des Roses Convent in Viterbo where Rose wished to enter. hrough a state of pure contemplation to then send her into the world to work for the conversion of souls, did not permit her to be admitted. The superior objected to her age, which was still too tender, and the complete lack of resources she could offer to a community whose members subsisted only on the small amount of goods that each novice brought upon her entry. This refusal only increased her inclination for solitude. She created one for herself in her father's house, where she shut herself away from the age of seven, fully resolved to spend every day and every moment of her life there.

Scarcely had she entered when, following the transports of her love for the suffering Jesus, she gave herself, to imitate and please Him, to all the exercises of the most austere penance and the most intimate union with her God. Constantly wearing a hair shirt applied directly to her flesh, she disciplined herself several times each day, but so long and with such force that, exhausted by fatigue, she would fall unconscious to the floor in the middle of a veritable pool of blood. Apart from the three or seven days in a row that she often spent without taking any kind of food, she never allowed herself anything but bread and water, and even that in such a minimal quantity that she could obviously only survive through an extraordinary aid from the Divinity. When she was overcome by sleep, she would throw herself fully clothed onto her miserable bed, and upon the first awakening, no doubt hastened by her stinging pains, she would rise to begin the course of new tortures. Frightened at the sight of these incredible excesses, her parents made, from the beginning, the most energetic efforts to remove her from her foul and dark dungeon and to obtain from her another line of conduct. But she showed them, with tears in her eyes, that the glory of God and the interest of her poor soul demanded a very austere life, and she redoubled the number of her fasts, the harshness of her hair shirts, and the rigor of her macerations.

Now, suffering that is willed, loved, and sought after purifies the heart, ennobles the sentiments, elevates the thoughts, detaches the spirit from the earth, and carries it toward heaven. Hence it is that this lovable child had such facility for prayer. She spent the whole day and the greater part of the nights in it, and her soul was so absorbed that the loudest noises seemed not to reach her. Nothing could distract her. Her parents and the strangers who went to her cell to contemplate, through the door that their pious indiscretion gently opened, the admirable spectacle of her angelic fervor, often found her plunged into a meditation so deep that her insensible and fixed body made her appear dead or fainted. It was in vain that they hurried to make her regain her senses. It was only after several hours, and sometimes at the end of a whole day, that, emerging from her rapture and ecstasy, she returned to movement and life.

These intimate and continuous conversations with God were for her the source of a science, a strength, and a happiness that the Holy Spirit can indeed communicate, but that all human activity could not acquire. Thus, when, to answer the various questions addressed to her, she began to speak of the Power, the Mercy, the Justice, the Beauty, the Glory, and all the perfections of God, she did so with sentiments so tender and so elevated, expressions so simple but so ardent, movements so compelling and so lively, a fecundity so sudden and so inexhaustible, that all who heard her proclaimed very loudly that it was in the very bosom of eternal Truth that she drew such extraordinary and sublime knowledge, and that it was He Himself who had inspired the Prophets and all the sacred writers who was speaking through her lips. Likewise, when visitors, pitying her age and the rigor of her penances, recommended that she bring some softening to her harsh practices, she explained the happiness that exists in suffering with such charm and eloquence that one soon realized that it was a true felicity for her to suffer. And, indeed, the greatest of her pains was not to have any. It is certainly not that she did not feel all that is painful and poignant in suffering, but knowing that suffering contributes to making us more conformed to our divine Model, not only did she take pleasure in torments, but she also had recourse to a thousand means to create more for herself.

However, these rigid deprivations, these so often repeated flagellations, this severe enclosure in a narrow and poorly ventilated place, joined to the constant occupation of her mind and heart, caused her, at the age of eight, a serious illness that lasted nearly fifteen months and several times nearly led her to the grave. It declared itself by an excessive weakness that soon degenerated into consumption. What a touching spectacle was that of this little virgin, stretched out on her poor cot, continually burned by fever, never exhaling a single complaint, never opening her mouth except to bless the Lord, keeping silence only to occupy herself in prayer with as much calm and application as if she had been in perfect health! What afflicted her most was being forced to keep rest without being allowed to macerate herself as usual. Thus she complained to her parents, her friends, and strangers about her excessive delicacy, and she asked them all with the most pressing entreaties that, since her arm was too weak to make her expiate her sins through voluntary pains, they would be willing to make up for her unfortunate powerlessness by whipping her with all their strength for the love of her adorable Jesus, who had been so harshly scourged for her. Tears flowed on all faces, sobs escaped from all chests, when one saw this poor child, exhausted by long pains, having almost only a breath of life left, painfully straightening herself on her bed, and asking with joined hands, eyes in tears, and a voice more than heart-rending, that new torments be added to those she was enduring. But if men refused to accede to her desires, heaven accomplished them in the most prompt and rigorous manner: her pains became more and more vivid, and there arrived a moment when, the fever having fallen, her weakness was so great that, all pale and entirely exhausted, she appeared to exist no longer.

On the eve of Saint John the Baptist, she had a very sweet vision that we cannot help but relate, because it was of the highest consequence for the rest of her life. As her strength was constantly failing, and for some time her last breath had been expected from hour to hour, her cell and the whole house were filled with young girls and pious ladies, her friends, who wished to assist her at this supreme moment. Now, at the moment when, motionless and without a pulse, she was looked upon as already passed away, all of a sudden her eyelids opened, her gaze became fixed, her face sparkled with joy, an extraordinary vigor spread through all her limbs, and rising hastily on her couch, she cried out: "All of you who are here, why do you not greet the Queen of the world? Do you not see Mary, the august Mother of my God, who is approaching? Let us hasten to meet her: let us prostrate ourselves before her majesty." She rose at these words, walked with a rapid and firm step toward the door of her cell, fell to her knees with all those present, and while humility, modesty, the tenderest devotion, and the liveliest love were painted on all her features, her gaze remained constantly fixed on the object that drew her. She did not utter a single word. It seemed that her soul, completely absorbed in the contemplation of the great spectacle that was offered to her eyes, was incapable of bringing her body out of the complete immobility in which it was plunged.

The celestial Queen appeared to her in all the brilliance of her graces and the charm of her goodness. She was clothed in the most magnificent ornaments, and the vivid, immense light with which she was surrounded and which penetrated her entirely had, however, nothing but what was very pleasant and very sweet. The power and grandeur, which were revealed in her majestic bearing and on her resplendent figure, were admirably enhanced by the attraction of that merciful tenderness which forms the foundation of her nature. Around her stood in brilliant crowns several groups of glorious lovers of Jesus. They were less tall, less luminous, and less beautiful than their divine Sovereign. Their faces, all radiant with innocence and love, happiness and joy, appeared framed in bands of long and brilliant hair that flowed in streams of gold over their virginal shoulders.

As soon as this blessed child had recovered the breath and speech that the rapture of her senses and the superabundance of her bliss had caused her to lose, she suddenly broke the silence and cried out: "O my Queen, O my joy, O my consolation, O my happiness! You have some recommendation to make to me, some order to give me; speak, speak, for your servant is listening."

Then the Mother of God approached, embraced her with the most affectionate tenderness, and with that calm, delicious, ravishing voice that would carry serenity, strength, and happiness into the weakest and most troubled hearts, she said to her: "Most pure Rose, whose stem, which rests in the very bosom of the brightest of lilies, has been crowned with the most beautiful and fragrant of flowers, you see me pompously adorned, like the bride of a great king, adorned with precious jewels, surrounded by innocent and richly dressed virgins. Take as our example the most sumptuous ornaments that you can find, and after having visited the churches of Saint John the Baptist and of my beloved servant, the poor Francis, you will go to that of Saint Mary of the Hill, where they will cut your hair. You will then strip yourself of all these futile liveries of the world, and Dona Sita will impose upon you the holy habit of penance. For the cord, you will take that of your little donkey. After having thus celebrated your nuptials with the great King of glory and rendered your thanksgivings to the Most High, you will return to your cell where, clothed in the habit of the Third Order of Saint Francis, you will apply yourself to pray and to praise your God. Later, when the moment has come, you will arm yourself with confid Tiers Ordre de Saint-François Secular order joined by Jeanne before the foundation of the Visitation. ence and courage, and with all the zeal of which you are capable, you will travel through the cities to rebuke, convince, exhort, and bring back the strayed into the paths of salvation. If such conduct draws upon you sarcasm and mockery, persecutions and pains, you will bear them with patience, for they will be for you a source of merits and a subject of precious rewards. But woe to those who will oppose you and persist in hindering you in the accomplishment of your mission! They will be prey to the saddest calamities, while those who will second you in your pious efforts will see themselves enriched with all the graces of the Lord." After saying these words, she blessed her and withdrew, leaving her as if plunged into an ocean of happiness and joy.

Rose, accompanied by an immense crowd that had rushed at the first news of what was happening, went to the churches of Saint John the Baptist and Saint Francis, where she shed many tears of love, gratitude, and joy; but it was especially in that of Saint Mary of the Hill that she was obliged to give free rein to her ardor and transports. After the mass that was celebrated solemnly for her intention, she stripped herself of all her worldly finery, prostrated herself at the foot of the altar, and made aloud, in the hands of the priest and in the presence of all the people, the three vows of poverty, obedience, and perpetual virginity. Turning then toward the lady Sita, she begged her to finish the ceremony begun by the minister of the Lord. The latter believed herself too unworthy to render her such an office: "Such is the will of Mary, our Immaculate Mother," replied the child: "would you refuse to accomplish such a holy duty?" Sita submitted: she cut her hair and clothed her in the habit of the Third Order of Penance, which the priest had imposed upon her.

When after the ceremony she turned back toward the people to return to her place, a cry of admiration escaped from all breasts, tears of tenderness fl owed from all eyes. An inst Tiers-Ordre de la Pénitence Secular order joined by Jeanne before the foundation of the Visitation. antaneous shaking occurred in this immense crowd. Everyone wanted to approach her to see her, to touch her. There is in holiness a powerful virtue that besieges hearts and attracts them. How, moreover, could one not be moved at the sight of a little girl of ten years who, with full and complete knowledge, has just given herself to God without reserve and forever? Her bare feet, her body undermined by privations, her eyes lovingly glued to a crucifix that she pressed in her hands, her forehead where, with a celestial serenity, radiated the most amiable candor, her angel face that stood out radiant and tender from the shapeless folds of a coarse tunic, as a delicate and pure lily would from the midst of thorns, produced a marvelous effect in souls.

When she was out of the church, they wanted to hear her. The word sprang from her lips abundant, majestic, inflamed. She spoke with so much vehemence and feeling of the misfortune of those who live far from God; she made on her crucifix, which she flooded with tears, a picture so pathetic, so heartbreaking, and so vivid of the deplorable state to which sin had reduced her amiable Jesus; she used, to lead the guilty to repentance, reasons so energetic and so compelling, that there was no heart that was not struck down, that did not confess itself conquered. Sobs erupted everywhere; from all sides it was only an immense explosion of voices that rose toward heaven to implore mercy and forgiveness. Never perhaps had the word of God, so effective, so penetrating when it is wielded by an innocent and pure soul, acted with so much power and superiority, on the mass of a great people, through the mouth of a simple little child.

As soon as she had finished speaking, Rose hastened to return to her home. A secret inspiration moved her to be alone with God alone. Stealing away as soon as possible from the dense crowd that accompanied her, she shut herself in the silence of her cell and began to pour out before her heavenly Spouse the sentiments of joy, humility, confusion, gratitude, love, and complete abandonment of herself with which her soul overflowed. But Jesus had called her back to solitude only to speak more intimately to her heart. He let her glimpse that if He had wed her in the Order of Penance, it was so that she might assimilate herself more perfectly to Him through pain.

From this moment, one sees her multiply her privations and aggravate her tortures. She strikes her breast with a large stone she had prepared for this purpose. Every day, and several times a day, she tears her body with harsh flagellations, which she inflicts upon herself for entire hours. It matters little to her that blood escapes in great spurts and floods the floor; when the coarse folds of her haircloth robe have stuck firmly to her wide wounds, she tears them away violently to carry off shreds of flesh.

One day, as her soul was exhaling as usual in sentiments of the most ardent compassion, Jesus Christ appeared to her suspended on the cross, His hands and feet nailed, His head crowned with thorns, His face bruised and disfigured, His limbs frightfully stretched and dislocated, His flesh torn to the bone, His whole body flooded with a foaming blood that gushed from the wide and deep wounds He had received from His executioners.

At this sight, a piercing cry escapes her lips: an acute, sharp, overwhelming pain seizes her in all her limbs; she falls fainting face to the ground. When she rises, her chest is too oppressed, her mouth cannot utter a single word; but while her gaze is fixed with poignant avidity on the great and silent Victim, an unknown work takes place in her whole being: her veins swell, her nerves become irritated, her sensitivity sharpens, and her heart, which expands and deepens, becomes like an abyss where, from the bosom of Jesus, all the bitterness, all the anguish, all the pains rush in with excess. Excited by so many evils, and like that unfortunate spouse who, suddenly seeing the object of her tenderness bloodied, crushed, and expiring in some terrible catastrophe, instinctively raises a nervous arm against herself and seems, by torturing herself, to soften and even ward off the rigor of a too-fatal fate, Rose tears her hair, seizes with a clenched hand the large stone that lies at her side, strikes herself with it frightful blows on the shoulders and chest, and when the floods of blood escaping from her mouth have opened a free passage for her voice, she cries out: "O my Jesus, who has reduced you to this lamentable state? Who has so inhumanly bruised and torn you? Who has so cruelly pierced and attached you to this horrible wood?" — "It is my love, my ardent love for men," answers the Savior; "it is the sin of which they are guilty." — "Your love for men!" replies this admirable child, "it is then for me that you have suffered so much!!... The sin of men! It is then I, a miserable sinner, who have caused you all these torments!" Then, transported by all the furies of a holy despair, she utters the most lamentable cries, sheds the most bitter tears in torrents, and tears, tortures, and strikes herself until she breaks her bones.

Considering then that it is not only her sins, but those of all men, that have caused so much suffering to her God, and that arm His justice against the earth every day, she interposes herself between the irritated heaven and the guilty world. She implores the Lord to let all the arrows of His anger fall upon her head, and to close His eyes to the crimes of so many men who do not know what they are doing. To obtain, especially for Viterbo, these treasures of mercy that she implores with such ardor, she seeks to move her divine Spouse by associating herself more and more with His sufferings, and by tearing her skin and pieces of flesh with her nails or a knife. Incapable of struggling for long against the inexpressible pains she experiences, she falls a second time unconscious on the floor, and only rises to continue bruising herself while contemplating her crucified Jesus.

However, the vision disappears. But in withdrawing, the Savior does not calm her sufferings. He leaves her only a burning thirst for the salvation of souls, which triumphs for an instant over her excessive weakness, and leads her to traverse all the streets of the city to bring the people back to sentiments of virtue. She summons them with loud cries to the main squares; and there, to make herself heard by the numerous crowd which, pushed by curiosity, the spirit of faith, and the breath of the Almighty, pours out from all the avenues, she abandons herself to the heavenly inspirations of her heart. The crucifix she holds in her hands, the divine fire that shines in her eyes, the touching expression that her bloodied face assumes, the vivid, energetic, and true picture she presents of the frightful disorders in which one lives, and the terrible punishments with which one is threatened, make such a deep impression on the minds that some, who had come only with the avowed goal of contradicting and mocking, return all silent and moved. She renews her instructions several times in the various squares; and when evening has come, she goes to the church of Saint Mary of the Hill to finish publicly before God by her prayers, her groans, and her tears, what her preaching has so happily begun. But she has barely prostrated herself before the Most Blessed Sacrament and, while striking her breast, raised a suppliant voice toward her heavenly Spouse, when, exhausted by solicitudes, torments, and fatigue, she collapses and faints for the third time.

They transport her to her home; but as soon as she has regained her senses, the divine fire seizes her again and inflames her. She breaks free from the arms of those who want to hold her back, and goes again to traverse all the streets of the city, crying to the people, with a lamentable voice, to convert and to avert by fervent supplications the avenging blows with which heaven is on the point of striking them. The entire city is moved. The Catholics bring forth worthy fruits of penance, and several of those who had let themselves fall into error open their eyes to the faith and their hearts to repentance. But the main leaders of the imperial party, fearing that, as a result of her preaching, the Viterbians might shake off the yoke of Frederick II to return to the obedience of the Holy Father, conceive the design of destroying her. Dangers will not intimidate her. The glory of God, the care of her perfection, and the salvation of souls are the only principles that h er conscien Frédéric II Holy Roman Emperor. ce will consult and whose imperious laws she will follow, without pomp as without weakness.

Thus, a few months had barely passed, and a notable change had already occurred in all the districts of Viterbo. There was no longer any talk of murders, rapine, vengeance, insults, and hatred. Crime had given way to virtue; religion was rising everywhere triumphant; and faith, having become the rule of beliefs and morals again, brought new riches every day to the crown of glory that each was weaving for eternity.

It had already been nearly four years that, with the good odor of her virtues, little Rose had been spreading, in the heart of Viterbo, the ever-growing charm of her word, her miracles, and her benefits. The empire she had acquired there was so powerful that she seemed to hold in her hands the spring of all souls, to direct the aspirations of all hearts, and to communicate movement and energy to all wills. Rose saw with a feeling of inexpressible satisfaction the ravishing spectacle that this happy city offered; but far from attributing the cause to her good examples, her preaching, and her zeal, she constantly raised her hands toward heaven to thank the Lord for having opened the treasure of His mercies upon her dear homeland, and for having brought back into the paths of salvation so many wretches who were running blindly toward the abysses of perdition. Knowing, in fact, the price of souls through the horrible torments to which Jesus subjected Himself to save them, she felt the most stinging pains in the presence of the pernicious efforts that the courtiers of Frederick II were making to stop the torrent that was carrying the entire population toward piety. There were no insults, derisions, sarcasms, calumnies, or persecutions that they did not employ to discourage and make those who gave themselves to the service of the Lord fall back into impiety. But the more the malice of these enemies became formidable, the more our admirable child showed herself vigilant and active to paralyze its bad effects. While, in the silence of her retreat, she redoubled her prayers, her fasts, her macerations, and her vigils, one saw her multiply her journeys and instructions outside to encourage the weak and support the strong.

But the heretics, humiliated and defeated, only became more stubborn, more ardent, and more furious. They conspired; and, to prevent her from fighting them and bringing to light the odious web of their conduct, and especially to prevent her from diminishing the sympathy of the Viterbians for Frederick by activating their love for religion and the Sovereign Pontiff, they signaled to her that if she appeared in public again to continue her preaching, she would not be long in receiving the punishment for her imprudence and temerity.

Rose did not let herself be intimidated. She replied that here below there was only one Being whose fear she carried in her heart: the One to whom the entire universe was subject, the One who would judge them themselves one day, the One whom we must love above all because He created and redeemed us, the One consequently whom we must obey in preference to all, the God of heaven and earth; that this God had commanded her to make known, respect, and practice the religion He had come to found; to repress the guilty audacity of blind or perverted men who, excited by the enemy of all good and led by the miserable bait of some temporal advantages, apply themselves to making the work and sufferings of their Savior fruitless. She said that the Lord having prescribed for her to exercise her ministry despite the contradictions and personal dangers to which the fulfillment of His supreme will might expose her, she would pursue her mission with ardor, in all its extent and until the time He had been pleased to determine. She added that the power they relied upon did not impress her at all; that their threats and their evil designs would not make her modify in any way the paths she had entered upon several years ago; that far from trembling before prison, exile, torture, and the most violent death, she would consider herself too happy to have to undergo them for the love of a God who had suffered so much for her, and who was already showing her from the height of heaven the place reserved for her constancy and fidelity; that they could therefore execute their projects by making the most multiplied blows of their fury fall upon her head: for as long as God had not fixed the term of her heavenly mandate, and as long as there remained a breath in her chest, a movement in her heart, and a thread of voice on her lips, she would go, armed with confidence and courage, to announce to the people, with all the zeal of which she was capable, the truths of the faith.

At this protest, so energetic and firm, the anger of the heretics was exalted to rage; they went to find the Prefect, gave him a false and very black picture of the alleged excesses to which Rose was giving herself against the government of the Emperor; told him that, excited by her subversive speeches, the Viterbians, who already had only a cold indifference for Frederick, were on the point of rising up to put themselves back under the protection of the Holy Father; that if he wanted to prevent the danger of this imminent revolt, and make the spirit of attachment and submission to the Caesar, their master, revive in the city and province of Viterbo, he had only one course of action to take: that of getting rid of Rose by making her leave the city immediately. The Count of Chieti was shaken at the very word of uprising; he immediately summoned Rose and her parents, and without giving himself the time to accuse or hear them, he fulminated against them the sentence of immediate exile. Rose left the city immediately with her parents; but when they found themselves in the countryside, their perplexity became extreme. Dark and agitated clouds were rolling in the sky; the night was humid and black; a sharp, glacial wind was blowing without interruption from the North; and the snow, which was beginning to fall in large flakes, had, in a few moments, covered the plain, erased the trace of the paths, filled all the depressions of the ground, and made the thin layer of ice that had formed on the streams, marshes, and ponds disappear under an immense sheet.

After several hours of fatigue, they arrived, frozen and half-dead, at the end of one of the mountain gorges where they had ventured. Obliged to go ever forward, they had to reach the heights. Their strength was exhausted, the darkness was horrible, and as they rose, the terrain became steeper, the wind more impetuous, the cold more intense, the snow thicker. They huddled against a rock; and so as not to let themselves be surprised by a fatal sleep, they waited standing for the arrival of day. As soon as the dawn appeared, they set off again, and after having wandered for a long time, they arrived at a fairly late hour of the morning in front of the fortress of Soriano, which showed itself with its standard on one of the opposite rocks. It was only toward noon that they entered the city, and that they received from the charity of one of its inhabitants a piece of bread to sustain their frail existence, as well as a poor shelter to rest their harassed limbs. At the sight of all the appalling disorders of which this unfortunate city was the theater, Rose felt her heart tearing. For several days she cou Soriano Place of the saint's first exile. ld not take any kind of food, nor taste a single moment of rest. The outrages that her Beloved received were echoed in her soul and produced there an indefinable sadness, a supreme affliction that her strength seemed incapable of supporting.

Hardly a few months had passed since Rose's arrival in this city when, touched to the depths of their souls by the fervor, zeal, and high sanctity that this young girl constantly displayed, and unable to resist the light of truth that shone in her words, while also drawn by the power of the numerous and surprising wonders she scattered in her path each day, all the inhabitants, rich or poor, ended up yielding to her exhortations, abandoning their errors, renouncing their lives of disorder, and surrendering themselves entirely and forever to the practice of their holy religion. It was not only the inhabitants of Soriano who reaped such precious fruits of salvation from the preachings of this admirable child. From all the surrounding villages, men and women were seen flocking, who, surprised by the astonishing wonders they heard recounted, brought her their sick, commended themselves to her prayers, lent an attentive ear to her exhortations, and returned to their homes as resolved to change their lives as they were deeply content with the healings and other benefits they had obtained.

Rose, having learned that the inhabitants of Vitorchiano, led astray by a sorceress bribed by the Emperor's government, had conceived a deep hatred aga inst the te Vitorchiano Site of the miracle of the pyre. achings and practices of religion, had separated from the Holy See, and were living in a frightening heap of iniquities, it took no more to draw her into this new center of incessant labors and perilous combats. She therefore gathers the people of Soriano, rejoices with them for the numerous graces they have received from heaven during the course of this year, conjures them to remain faithful to the promises they have made to the Lord, and after telling them that, to obey the inspirations of her heart as well as the orders of the Most High, she will never forget them in her humble prayers, she announces to them that her mission calls her elsewhere and that she is on the point of leaving them. At these words, a cry of pain escapes from every breast, sobs break out on all sides, tears flow on every face, and all arms reach out to hold her back: there is no one who does not keenly feel the magnitude of the loss they are about to suffer. The poor remember that she fed them; the sick, that they owe her their health; the sinners, their conversion; the righteous, their advancement in the knowledge and love of God; all, that they obtained some signal benefit from her: it seems to them that this young girl is their hope, their happiness, their life that is about to flee. Rose seeks to console them by reminding them that they have in heaven a tender Father, a devoted Mother who will watch over them, assist them in their needs, and shower them with their favors; and to escape the emotions that are increasingly winning over her soul, she hastens to open a path through this desolate crowd and to take the road to Vitorchiano with her beloved parents. After commending herself to the most holy Virgin, to her good Angel, to the divine Precursor, and to her seraphic Father, she advances in the name of God, enters the city, and begins her mission.

The Vitorchianians already knew Rose, if not by sight, at least by reputation. Most had attended her preachings in Viterbo or Soriano, and all had heard of her as a girl extraordinary for her eloquence, her miracles, and her virtues. Thus, hardly had she appeared in the city when the news of her arrival spread with the speed of lightning even into the surrounding countryside. From all sides, a multitude of men, women, and people of all ages and conditions were seen rushing, grouping themselves in an ardent, compact mass around her, burning to see and hear her. She had not yet opened her mouth to speak when a sudden tremor had occurred in this vast assembly: emotion had reached all souls, tears had sprung into all eyes. Her bare feet; her uncovered head; her modest and calm pose; her humbly lowered gaze; her crucifix which she pressed to her heart with an lovingly trembling hand; her pale, angelic, animated yet tranquil face, on which, through the sacred character of suffering, seemed to be painted the sweet and ravishing candor of a divinized soul; her coarse, worn dress, held by a cord even poorer still, and whose dark color brought out so well the admirable serenity of her brow, like that dark cloud which, while letting us glimpse through a slight fissure the peaceful star of the nights, seems to clothe it in a more radiant and pure brilliance: all this gave this interesting little girl an air of tender piety, of amiable greatness, of attractive and sublime majesty, which, in winning their hearts, led them to embrace her sentiments and to submit to her wishes even before she had manifested them. When the crowd had ceased to grow, Rose raised her tear-filled eyes toward heaven for a moment, and then, with a voice broken by sobs, she let fall upon this softened people the great and painful thoughts that filled her soul. She exposed the terrible and numerous calamities with which the demon, always ungrateful to those who serve him, had overwhelmed this city once blessed by heaven; showed the signal deceits he had used to seduce and lead them astray; and after showing them the wrong they had done in renouncing their ancient faith to throw themselves into a party which, by perverting minds through lies and hearts through the incitement to all disorders, led them to their eternal loss, she conjured them to return to a God whose justice is always disarmed by the tears of a sincere penance. A week had not yet passed before the most notable inhabitants of the country were seen living in a manner consistent with her desires, and not fearing, to better satisfy the Lord, to give themselves publicly to the exercises of the most austere penance. Of all the heretics, indifferent, and impious people who were counted by the thousands in the city and territory of Vitorchiano, there were only a few who, captivated by the pleasures of a licentious life, stubbornly refused to open their eyes to the light.

To triumph over their prejudices and show with great evidence the divinity of our holy religion, she has an immense quantity of wood brought to the public square, and after having a pyre made, she signals for it to be lit. Sparks and smoke rise, the brushwood crackles, the conflagration widens; heat and dread radiate from all sides. Now, while the assistants recoil sharply, and the flames leap toward the sky in impetuous whirlwinds, Rose advances with a calm face, and, with a firm and assured step, she enters the fire!... A piercing, terrible cry escapes from every breast; instinctively, all arms reach forward to pull her out. But what is the general astonishment when, through the frightening mantle of flames that surround her, one sees her climb quietly to the top of the pyre!!... There, she stands, crosses her hands on her chest, and, with her gaze lovingly fixed toward heaven, she seems to converse with her Beloved. This pose, this ecstatic air, this mouth that opens deliciously under the inspiration of her prayer, this face on which the splendor of a seraphic smile begins to bloom, this throne of fire that holds her elevated in space and which, by collapsing little by little under the empire of the destructive element, seems to tell her again that a soul, created for God, must detach itself from the perishable grandeurs of the earth to fly toward the eternal munificence of the heavens; and these flames which, upon reaching her feet, lose their ordinary direction, move aside with an apparent respect, envelop her without touching her, and curve into a vault above her head to then vanish in an elongated arrow into immeasurable heights: all this gives her such an aspect of greatness and majesty that she no longer resembles a simple mortal. Soon her face lights up with the liveliest enthusiasm, her feelings overflow, and, as Saint Crescentia once did in her cauldron of molten lead, resin, and boiling pitch, she intones, with a sweet but strong voice, the admirable canticle: "Blessed be You, Lord, powerful God of our Fathers," which the three young Hebrews first made heard in the furnace of Babylon. While she thus invites the angels and the stars, the light and the darkness, the heat and the cold, the thunder and the lightning, the mountains and the valleys, the rivers and the seas, the plants and all animate beings, to bless Him who, seated in the heights, leans down to look below, in heaven and on earth, at all that His hand has drawn from nothingness, the people are there, stupefied, eyes fixed, mouths agape, incapable of making a single movement, of uttering a single word. But, when she comes to these words: Benedicte, filii hominum, Domino, and addressing the assembly directly, she cries out: "Children of men, bless the Lord, praise Him, and glorify Him for all ages"; an immense explosion of voices is heard. Everyone repeats: "Children of men, let us bless the Lord, praise Him and glorify Him for ages of ages." Meanwhile, the pyre, hollowed out and devoured by the fire, collapses, and the young girl, suddenly precipitated into the vast depths of this burning mass, disappears under a thick cloud of flames, sparks, and smoke. But in an instant she rises, climbs back to the surface, and, with a serene brow and hands placed on her heart, she goes, she comes, she walks on this burning pedestal as she would have done on a lawn of greenery or in a garden enamelled with flowers. Finally, when the wood had been reduced to ashes and the fire had gone out, the people, incapable of mastering the pious movements of their hearts, rushed toward little Rose to see her closer, to touch her, to embrace her. Struck by the humble, modest exterior, imbued with the thought and love of God, that this dear child maintained in the midst of the inexpressible eagerness of which she was the object, they felt a true joy in proclaiming her sanctity and in loudly thanking the Lord for having made her enter a religion whose divinity was manifested by such great miracles and such beautiful virtues.

Some time later, Rose left Vitorchiano and traveled throughout the province, leaving everywhere the traces of the most signal benefits. There was a multitude of sick people to whom she had restored health, sinners she had converted, just souls she had inflamed with the love of virtue, and systematic hostilities against religion and inveterate hatreds between citizens that she had caused to disappear. When she had thus brought back to God all the souls she had a mission to evangelize, she took the road to Viterbo with her parents, after the death o Viterbe City in Italy where Gerard fell ill. f Frederick. At the news of Frédéric Holy Roman Emperor. her return, the inhabitants of that city entered into an extraordinary jubilation and flocked in crowds to meet her. She would have liked to reach her home by the most solitary and circuitous paths; but, carried away by the multitude, which pressed her on all sides and deprived her of the freedom of movement, she was obliged to follow the route traced for her by the long lines of people stationed in several ranks on the path that led to her house. Upon seeing again, after sixteen or eighteen months of a painful separation, the blessed child whom they regarded as the consoler of the afflicted, the help of the poor, the light of souls, and the liberator of the fatherland, these good inhabitants could not contain the cries of their rejoicing and their transports.

As soon as she arrived in her cell, Rose thought only of carrying out the project she had formed so long ago. She wanted to separate herself from the world to live alone with God alone. Going out only once a day to hear Holy Mass or to speak with her confessor, without whose consent she never did or undertook anything, she returned as soon as possible to her solitude to continue with her celestial Spouse, in mortification and prayer, this union of thoughts and heart that she burned to make more perfect every day. But as her door was continually besieged by a multitude of people who came to seek her advice or to commend themselves to her charity, she sought a deeper retreat.

The monastery of Saint Mary of the Roses fixed her gaze more than ever. The poor, innocent, and retired life of the sisters who inhabited it gave new strength to the powerful attraction that had always drawn her toward that house. Without letting herself be stopped by the consideration of the refusal she had already experienced, she commended herself to her divine Master, to the most holy Virgin, to her seraphic Father Saint Francis, and went to throw herself at the feet of the Superior. She gave her a vivid and striking picture of the obstacles she found in her father's house to converse with her Beloved, and conjured her, with tears in her eyes, to be willing to admit her into the bosom of a community where the needs of her poor soul and all the dearest affections of her heart had called her for so long. By an adorable and beneficent disposition of Providence, the Superior did not believe she should accede to her prayer. Persuaded, no doubt, that this angelic little girl would work more for the glory of God and the salvation of souls in her father's house than in a convent, she invoked various pretexts not to receive her. However painful this sacrifice must have been to her heart, Rose submitted to it instantly, without difficulty, and with good grace.

Scarcely had she returned to her cell when the approach made to her by several young girls, her former friends, suddenly revealed to her the secret of this double inclination for retreat and for the sanctification of her neighbor, which she had never ceased to feel. These young companions had kept their fervor during the eighteen months of her absence, and they had nothing more urgent, upon her return, than to beg her to take them back under her guidance. Her confessor, Pierre Capostoti, pastor of Saint Mary of the Hill, strongly encouraged her to condescend to their desire; and from then on her house was almost transformed into a true convent. Apart from the few moments of recreation that followed the main meal, their silence was interrupted only by the recitation of the Divine Office, the singing of psalms and canticles, spiritual readings, and the short but inflamed exhortations that the little Saint addressed to them on the virtues most appropriate to their sex, their age, and their condition. She spoke to them of humility, which is the necessary foundation of all perfection; of modesty, which is the most powerful safeguard of innocence, the most beautiful ornament of virginity, and which, like that perfume with which the breath of the morning is scented, reveals by its mere presence, in the heart it adorns, a treasure of merits and holiness. "Now, the truly modest girl," she added, "is she who, convinced of the dangers the world offers her, penetrated by her own weakness, making her delights in conversing interiorly with her divine Jesus, does not like to pour herself out externally, lives under the eyes of her mother, avoids the company of men, speaks little and with circumspection, and fears as much to be seen as to see." She entertained them on the necessity of penance, prayer, and work. "By weakening the disordered appetites of our nature," she told them, "mortifications make it more apt to bend to the law of God and to follow the movements of grace. Prayer, which raises our spirit and our heart toward God, discovers to them from this high point of view the vanity of the goods and pleasures of this world, fills them with light, strength, and consolation, and makes them foresee the calm and the felicities of the celestial homeland. Work has its pains, but it procures us very great advantages. Not only does it preserve us from idleness, the fatal source of so many vices, but, transforming itself into prayer by the offering one makes of it to God, it enriches us with merits and is a means for us to satisfy for our sins." She also urged them to obey their parents and their superiors, whoever they might be; to keep their eyes fixed unceasingly on Our Lord Jesus Christ and his most holy Mother, of whom we must trace in ourselves a living image; to flee the amusements of the century, the luxury of finery, and the fashion of adornments, frivolities to which the thoughts of a soul made for God should not be attached; to behave like angels of peace and sweetness within their families, suffering with resignation the bad humor of the people around them, and receiving as a precious benefit all the annoyances that heaven does not cease to send us. But the most ordinary subject of her conversations was exact and scrupulous fidelity to all the exercises of piety; the love of God, which must always dominate in our heart, and which must be the principle as well as the end of our acts, our desires, and our thoughts; and devotion to the most holy Virgin, which, as a result of the innumerable favors of which she is the source, is a mark of predestination and salvation.

It was in such principles that Rose applied herself to raising her beloved companions. Her efforts were not long in being crowned with the happiest success. They made, in fact, such rapid progress in virtue that after only a few days, the Viterbians recognized them by the simplicity of their attire, the modesty of their gaze, the graceful candor of their features, the exemplary regularity of their life, and that something pure, indefinable, and divine, which pours out from a heart that God alone possesses, where God alone acts. Although their life of recollection and prayer sheltered them from most of the dangers the world offers, they conceived a vivid desire to plunge into an absolute retreat. Pierre Capostoti acquired for them a piece of land adjoining the monastery of Saint Mary of the Roses and adapted the few buildings found there to the needs of their community. Scarcely were they established in this new convent than, despite the weakness of their sex and their youth, they gave themselves to the exercise of the most sublime and austere virtues. They rose early in the morning, recited the office, made long meditations, sang psalms, gave themselves the discipline, imposed continuous privations upon themselves, and, not content with praying and mortifying themselves thus by day, they devoted the greater part of the night to these holy practices. However severe the Rule of the Third Order of Saint Francis that they had hastened to adopt may be in itself, their piety pushed them far beyond its prescriptions: it must also be added that, to spare their health, Rose was forced to stop, by her words, the too impetuous momentum that her examples imprinted upon them.

Although her strength was always weakening, one saw her redouble her prayers, her macerations, and her fasts. United unceasingly in spirit and heart to her divine Jesus, she lived completely absorbed in him. Already having no more sleep, taking only a little bread and water every eight or fifteen days, she seemed to emerge from her visions and ecstasies only to bloody, with lashes armed with points and knots, that thin and livid layer of flesh that barely covered her dislocated, half-broken bones. Her companions would have liked, to prolong an existence that was so dear to them, to suspend the course of her violences and her transports. But they could only approach her, fix a tender gaze upon her, fall at her knees, and withdraw silent, moved, and all inflamed.

Attracted by the charm of a life so celestial and so pure, numerous girls of Viterbo came every day to implore the favor of spending some time in their pious solitude. They followed the rule of the community punctually, took part in all the public exercises, did not make difficulty in entering the career of mortifications and penances, and after having been inflamed with ardor for perfection in contact with these little angels of the earth, they went to exhale outside the delicious perfume of their piety. It was not only a regular, deeply Christian conduct that they led in the world; there was in their demeanor, their conversation, and their whole way of acting, something so candid, so ravishing, and so sweet that one could not see or hear them without experiencing the sentiment of duty and the love of virtue. In the presence of the marvelous fruits that such retreats produced, Pierre Capostoti proposed to widen the sphere of his recent constructions, when, by a disposition of Providence, the small community was suppressed by Pope Innocent IV, at the request of the sisters of Saint Damian, who feared being deprived of the alms they received from outside. Rose and her companions all submitted with resignation and love to the will of the Most High, returned immediately, content and happy, to the bosom of their families, blessing God for having kept them longer than others in an asylum where they had received so many graces, and promising themselves also to follow in their private lives, as much as possible, the Rule th ey had adop Innocent IV 13th-century pope who testified to the saint's miracles. ted and from which they had gathered such precious favors.

Scarcely had Rose returned to her cell when she fell gravely ill. The harsh privations that had paralyzed and, as it were, withered her organs; the terrible blows with which she had torn her body; the divine love that devoured her to the very depths of her being and left her not a moment of rest, had ended by altering her health and adding to the sharpness of her sufferings a languishing illness that could only end in death. "O earth," she often cried out in the anguish of her love, "earth watered by the blood of my God, but which is enveloped in too great a number by the fatal effects of the curse with which He has struck you, how painful is your dwelling for my soul! Why can I not break the bonds that hold me captive and take my flight toward eternity! Night and day, Lord, I raise to You the voice of my prayer; why then hide from Your embraces a heart that aspires only to You! Daughters of Jerusalem, I conjure you, if you see Him whom my soul cherishes, whom my heart adores, tell Him that, struck down by sadness, far from Him I cannot live, far from Him I feel myself dying!" While with such inflamed and pure accents this tender spouse of Jesus drew tears from all those who crowded around her to soften, by means of some consoling words, the too vivid bitterness of her pains, heaven, which for a long time had envied the earth such a beautiful flower, was preparing to gather it. It was the divine Master Himself who made known to her the approaching moment when the circle of her days was to close.

We will not attempt to paint the intoxicating transports that this little Sister experienced upon learning that she was going to leave this world to fly into the heavens. "I rejoiced at what was said to me," she cried, "I shall soon go into the house of the Lord"; and from that moment her soul soared with all its aspirations toward the ravishing object of its desires, and seemed to fall back to earth only to rebound and rise higher toward its God. All her acts, all her affections, all her thoughts tended only toward heaven. A few hours before passing to the other life, she wished to receive, through participation in the sacred body of her divine Spouse, a pledge of that union, much more intimate and a thousand times more perfect, that she was about to contract with Him in eternity. Scarcely had the divine Master taken possession of her soul when, plunged suddenly into the deepest contemplation, she lost the feeling of external objects and remained for some time without giving any sign of life. Her breathing had ceased, her pulse no longer beat, paleness covered her features, and her limbs were struck with complete immobility. When she had regained the use of her senses, her strength was so weakened that she was obliged to lie down to receive Extreme Unction. After having thanked the Lord for all the graces He had just granted her, Rose said a final farewell to her good parents as well as to her young companions; then she immediately withdrew into herself to prepare more and more for the great passage of eternity. She asked God for forgiveness for the sins of her life, thanked Him for the innumerable benefits with which He had showered her, and made a sacrifice to Him of all that she held most dear. She only interrupted these acts of contrition, gratitude, and love to beg the divine Mary, the august Precursor, her seraphic Father Saint Francis, and all the blessed inhabitants of the celestial homeland to receive her soul and present it to her amiable Spouse; and while her tongue repeated with an unspeakable ardor this cry of hope and love: "O Jesus! O Mary!" her burning and pure soul took its flight toward the heavens on March 6, 1252.

Saint Rose can serve as a model for young children and all Christian virgins through her affectionate respect for her parents, her profound modesty, and her angelic purity; for apostolic men, through her ardent zeal and unalterable patience; for the most rigid penitents, through the continuity of her fasts and the bitter macerations of her body; for anchorites, through her love for solitude and the heavenly occupations of her spirit; and for all Christians, through her constant fidelity to religious duties and the continual exercise of all virtues.

She is often represented holding roses in her hand or in her apron. One day, while she was carrying pieces of bread to the poor, she was met by her father, who wanted to see what she was carrying; she opened her apron, and, instead of bread, he found only roses. She is also depicted receiving communion, or kneeling near an altar and seeing in a dream the instruments of the passion of Jesus Christ.

CULT AND RELICS.

Immediately after her death, her body became all resplendent with light and did not experience the slightest alteration; such a pleasant odor exhaled from it that the whole house was perfumed. She was buried without a coffin and in her religious habit, that very evening, next to the baptismal fonts in the church of Saint Mary of the Hill (Santa Maria del Poggio). This ceremony took place as secretly as possible and without the knowledge of the people, whose pious thefts were feared. An immense multitude flooded the avenues of her dwelling or her tomb every day: they came to thank the Saint for her favors, to implore her protection, and to transform into precious relics the various objects they touched to her clothes, her bed, the walls of her room, the pavement her feet had trodden, and the earth that covered her body. At the request of the clergy, the magistrates, and all the people of Viterbo, Pope Innocent IV ordered inquiries into the life and miracles of Saint Rose; but he died before the end of the procedure. In 1258, Rose appeared to Pope Alexander IV, who was then in Viterbo, and told him to exhume her body and transport it to the convent of Saint Damian. When it had been raised from the earth, it was enclosed in a beautiful wooden reliquary, richly adorne d and covere Alexandre IV Pope who summoned Albert to Rome. d with crimson velvet draperies bordered with gold; four cardinals carried this precious remnant on their shoulders, and, accompanied by the Pope, the entire Sacred College, all the magistrates, and an immense crowd, they solemnly transported it to the monastery of the Sisters of Saint Damian, which from then on took the name of Saint Rose.

As miracles multiplied at her tomb, Alexander IV permitted the Viterbians to celebrate her feast solemnly on September 4, the anniversary of the translation of her relics. He even granted them a second one, which he fixed for March 6. The Pontiffs who ascended the Apostolic See after him favored the pious movement that led hearts to proclaim the holiness of this child. Pope Eugene IV, in a bull he sent against the usurpers of the property of the convent of Saint Rose, after having highly approved the veneration and cult that everyone rendered to her, did not hesitate to give her the title of Saint. Nicholas V ordered the city council of Viterbo to offer every year to the little Blessed one, during the Candlemas procession, three white wax candles, to honor, by this mysterious symbol, the light she had spread in souls, the ardent love with which she had been consumed, and the virginal innocence she had never lost. Finally, Pope Callixtus III decreed that she would be inscribed in the catalogue of Saints, and that the universal Church would render to her the cult of the Saints. Scarcely was this decision known when people hastened to erect altars to her in the churches of Aracoeli and Saint Catherine in Rome, Saint Mary of the Hill and Saint Sixtus in Viterbo, as well as in those of Vitorchiano, Bolsena, Tivoli, Fabriano, Foggia, etc. Entire populations went to her tomb, and even today, the multitude of those who come to place themselves under her protection is innumerable.

Among the sovereign Pontiffs who, after Alexander IV, Innocent VII, Martin V, and Eugene IV, made it a point of religion to visit her sanctuary, we will cite Nicholas V, Pius II (1459, 1460, 1462), Alexander VI (October 28, December 6, 1493), Julius II, Leo X, Clement VII, Julius III, Gregory XIII, Clement VIII, Benedict XIII, who raised her office to the rite of the twelfth class, Pius VI, Pius VII, and the immortal Pius IX.

The most illustrious princes and princesses also considered themselves very happy to be able to bow their heads before her holy remains. Suffice it to name Emperor Sigismund, who went to her sanctuary at the head of fifteen hundred of his lords; Emperor Frederick III and his wife Eleanor; the King of France, Charles VIII, who was so struck to see her body in a perfect state of preservation that he called Viterbo the city of Rose; the Grand Duke of Tuscany, Cosimo III; the King of England, James III, and his wife Clementina Sobieski; Yolande Beatrice of Bavaria; the King of Spain, Charles IV, the Infanta Maria Luisa, Queen of Portugal, and her son; and the Emperor of Austria, Francis I, with his wife Caroline and one of his daughters.

As for the cardinals, bishops, or priests from all countries of the world who come every year to recommend themselves to her intercession, it would be impossible to enumerate them. What maintains devotion toward Saint Rose in hearts is the boundless power she enjoys with the Lord.

In 1357, a fire having broken out in the chapel where her venerable relics rested, the reliquary and all the draperies with which it was covered were consumed; but the body was found intact, and God only permitted that the flesh of the Saint, which until then had kept all its whiteness, should take on a brown, almost blackish color. A reliquary similar to the one the fire had destroyed was made, the body was placed in it, and it was covered with draperies of the same nature and form as the previous ones. But in 1615, Cardinal Mutio, Bishop of Viterbo, had the velvet garments replaced by a gray tunic similar to that of the Poor Clare Sisters. In 1658, 1675, and 1750, this tunic underwent new modifications regarding material, form, and color; but since 1760, it has been made of black armoisin and is quite similar to that worn at this moment by the Sisters of Saint Clare. As for the wooden reliquary, it was replaced in 1699 by the beautiful transparent urn where the Saint now rests, and which, for greater convenience, opens from the side.

For more than six hundred years that it has existed, the precious body of Saint Rose has not yet experienced any change other than that of color. All those who have seen and touched it agree in saying that it is as whole, as soft, and as supple as if it were alive. The famous Papebroch, who examined it in 1661, affirms in his Itinerary from Rome to Flanders that he had never encountered one so perfect. His Eminence Cardinal Morlot, Archbishop of Paris (1857-1862), and seve ral priests and religious who précieux corps de sainte Rose Remains of the saint preserved intact since the 13th century. have considered it from very close and who have moved her head, arms, hands, and feet, have affirmed that, with the exception of the degree of warmth, it is still as it must have been immediately after her passing. Such a state of preservation can have no other cause than a miraculous intervention of the Almighty.

Excerpt from the Life of Saint Rose of Viterbo, by Abbé Darnsond, chaplain of the Lycée Louis-le-Grand. — Cf. Acta Sanctorum; Wadding.