Blessed Charles Spinola

After having communicated this plan to his uncle, the latter, recognizing in his nephew the certain signs of a divine vocation, fully agreed to his desires. From that moment on, the young Charles, who was in his twentieth year, did not hesitate for a single instant; he went to present himself at the Jesuit novitiate in Nola, where he was received on December 23, 1584. The novice master, charged with forming him in the virtues that make a fervent religious, Père Barthélemy Ricci Novice master of Charles Spinola at Nola. was Father Barthélemy Ricci. Charles was worthy of such a master. The seed falling into good soil yielded a hundredfold, for his beginnings in the path of renunciation and sacrifice corresponded to the glorious end of his career. After a year of novitiate, his superiors sent him to the college of Lecce to continue the course of the exercises of the contemplative life, while taking part in the active life of the religious charged with the instruction of youth. From there he was sent to Naples, in 1586, to follow the course of philosophy. After his two years of novitiate, he pronounced the simple vows of religion, and in this commitment, he put all the generosity of his soul.

He stayed for some time in Rome, where he studied mathematics, then he went to finish his philosophy course at the Brera college in Milan, where, after having taught grammar for a year, he studied theology. But among these diverse studies, in the midst of the fatigues of sustained work, his ardor for spiritual things did not cool. His piety and his virtue made him a model for the religious and a subject of admiration for people of the world.

He had a holy avidity for prayer, especially for mental prayer, that familiar and intimate conversation of the soul with God. Thus, from day to day, he spent more time in it. The hours marked for the exercises of devotion were observed with scrupulous care, and at the first signal of the bell he would fall to his knees and remain motionless until the end of the meditation. Each day, he recited several particular prayers, which clearly showed his vehement desires for martyrdom. His piety inspired in him the most touching testimonies of respect and love for the Holy Eucharist. He loved to visit the hidden God of the tabernacle, and, on holidays, his delight was to remain as long as he could near his divine Master.

The life of his heart was charity, and he spent the hours of recreation speaking with his brothers in religion about God or questions related to Him. To recreate his spirit, he wanted no other discourse. When it happened that he spoke of the martyrs, especially those who had died attached to a cross, then his burning words and animated gestures inflamed his listeners with the ardor of martyrdom: he had the eloquence of passion and the poetry of enthusiasm. He nurtured a filial tenderness for the Blessed Virgin Mary, and, in private as in public, his speeches manifested the love and confidence of a son for the most tender and loving of Mothers. During the four years that he was in charge of directing the students' congregation, he knew how to ignite in the hearts of these young people a deep devotion toward the Mother of God. It was he who invented this practice of devotion which consists of repeating the angelic salutation nine times in honor of the nine months of the dwelling of the Incarnate Word in the womb of the Immaculate Virgin.

His desire to save souls was immense; even before being honored with the priestly character, he traveled through villages and hamlets during the autumn vacations to spread the seed of the evangelical word and give these coarse and ignorant minds the teachings that were to lead them to a more Christian life. He applied himself to this work with so much enthusiasm and pleasure that, had he not obtained the mission to the Indies, he would have willingly devoted his whole life to catechizing the country populations. This zeal followed him everywhere; in him, the professor was also an apostle who strove to form his students in virtue, which is why he took special care of the congregants. He had distributed his time in such a way that each of them would have his turn for a private interview with him, and then, he would speak to one about the thing necessary above all, that of salvation; to another, he taught the way to meditate; sometimes he exhorted these ardent souls to the love of purity; he always deposited the precious seeds of the fear of God in these young hearts open to all the influences of virtue.

Charles Spinola walked with a firm step on the path of religious perfection. Always applied to overcoming himself, never letting an opportunity escape to practice virtue and to suffer for the love of Jesus Christ, he wanted no privilege, no exemption, even when, weakened by spitting blood and the onset of a painful illness, he could in all justice claim special care and the dispensation of some obligations imposed by the rule. Moreover, he feared that the pretext of his poor health would be used to prevent him from going to foreign missions. Although of a delicate constitution, he had the courage to rigorously chastise his body with voluntary austerities, such as the hair shirt, the discipline, and supererogatory fasts. He went to serve the sick in the hospitals and led the congregants there; there, this young and valiant troop under the guidance of its leader vied in zeal and ardor in the bodily care it lavished on the suffering members of Jesus Christ.

Faithful to the law of spiritual progress that the holy Founder of the Society of Jesus recommends and imposes on all the religious of his Order, he did not neglect this interior work of the soul by which it tends to free itself from its bad inclinations and imperfections. He advanced more and more in the knowledge and contempt of himself, did not fear to publicly accuse his faults, and applied himself seriously to correcting them. His happiness was to beg for the poor, his delight to feel deprivation, his joy to renounce everything that could be agreeable to him.

He was an enemy of everything that could win him esteem, and although he was gifted with great talents and adorned with much knowledge, he never showed the slightest pride, never gave the slightest sign that he preferred himself to others; he treated everyone with considerations full of modesty and affability. As he sincerely despised himself, insults and contempt caused him no pain: he would have felt joy rather than sadness from them. Such was the character of his virtue, the most salient trait of which is the generosity of an elevated soul that gives itself to God without reserve and wishes to imitate the great model of all holiness, Our Lord Jesus Christ.

His theological studies finished, he received the priestly anointing in 1594. This was for him a new motive to move with more ardor toward virtue and the exercises of Christian piety. From then on, he began to recite the canonical hours on his knees, and he kept this pious custom even in the midst of the harsh labors of his missionary life. Ordinarily, he confessed several times a week, and he approached this sacrament with such devotion, shedding such abundant tears and uttering such loud groans, that he could be heard from the neighboring rooms.

He had never ceased to ask for the mission to the Indies; so he sought through pressing letters to obtain the realization of this desire. While waiting for the determination of the superiors, he was sent with another religious to Cremona to exercise the holy ministry there. He arrived there burning with zeal and ready for every devotion. He first preached every feast day in the churches and even in the public squares, which was then little used in Italy. He re-established the use of catechisms by doing it himself in the parishes; but, in order to maintain this very useful method of teaching Christian doctrine, he instituted a confraternity that devoted itself to this type of ministry; and so that young girls would not be deprived of this advantage, he engaged some noble ladies to patronize this work with their name and their example. In the monasteries, he exhorted the nuns to perfection or occupied himself with their spiritual direction. He contributed effectively to the reform of a community in which each nun, forgetting the practice of the common life, lived on her own income; from then on, thanks to the efforts of his zeal, they lived in a manner consistent with the spirit of their vocation.

While he was occupied with evangelizing Cremona, the long-desired letter allowing him to leave for the Indies arrived. It was for him a command from heaven; he immediately went to Milan to prepare for his departure. He had to say goodbye to his family and perhaps struggle against the alarms and fears of an overly natural affection. In vain did his parents seek through their prayers and reproaches to turn him from his resolution; he remained firm and unshakable. He had, he said, three motives for leaving his homeland: first, his desire to preach the faith to barbarian nations; second, his will to renounce all the enjoyments he could find within his family; and finally, his desire to close off any access to the dignities and offices that his superiors might have imposed upon him. His farewells were short, and he hastened to go to

Genoa, where he found a ship that was to set sail within a few days.

The ship having dropped him off at Barcelona, he traveled by land to Lisbon, where h e embark Lisbonne Port of departure for missions to the Orient. ed for the Indies on April 10, 1596, with seven other missionaries of the Company. The navigation was long and perilous; on July 15, they entered the port of Bahia, or the Bay of All Saints, fortunately, and five months later they put back to sea. On March 25, 1597, they arrived at Puerto Rico, the capital of the island of that name; on August 21, they embarked on a merchant ship that was captured by an English vessel near the Azores on October 17. The captives were taken to England; once set free, they embarked on January 8, 1598, for Lisbon, where they were welcomed with a joy all the more vivid for having gone so long without news of them. He remained for a year in Portugal, where he prepared himself, in prayer and humility, to pronounce the solemn profession of the four vows.

At the end of March in the year 1599, he embarked with Father Jerome de Angelis and several other religious, of whom he was named superior. After a fortunate crossing, he arrived in Goa, where he stayed for some time, then in Malacca, in Macao, and fina lly in Na Nangasaki City in Japan, center of anti-Christian persecution. gasaki in 1602. He immediately went to the college of Arima to learn the Japanese language, and during this year devoted to study, he directed the congregation of the Blessed Virgin which had just been established there. As he possessed enough of the Japanese language to exercise the sacred ministry, he was entrusted with the duties of a missionary in Aria, a town not far from Arima. About a hundred villages belonged to this mission, of which Aria was the chief town. From then on, he was able to give free rein to his devotion to the cause of God, and he showed well that he spared no fatigue to maintain the flourishing state of this Christendom and to increase it if possible. He was a pastor entirely devoted to his flock and he forgot himself for the sake of others.

He was the father of the Christians entrusted to his care; not content with providing for their spiritual needs through ordinary means, he also relieved their indigence through alms that he obtained from the Portuguese or from Japanese Christians more favored by fortune. But could he see the infidels plunged into the darkness of idolatry without being moved by compassion and without trying to enlighten them? It would have cost too much to the charity with which he was inflamed not to attempt their conversion. Thus, he sought to catechize these unfortunate worshippers of idols. He studied their customs, their habits, their manners, and the ceremonies of their worship, in order to be better able to make the truth shine and to find easier access to their minds. God blessed the efforts of his zeal.

But, while working and devoting himself without measure, the tireless laborer of the Lord did not neglect the care of his own perfection. The personal holiness of the minister of the word and the sacraments is not, of course, necessary to allow grace to act upon souls subject at all times to its heavenly influence; but it is also true that the piety and virtues of the priest draw special blessings upon his work and become like an external means that gives supernatural strength an easier entry into hearts. It is therefore useful that the instrument of divine wonders remains united to God through incessant prayer and ardent charity.

This is what the holy missionary had understood; to preserve and increase his union with God, he had recourse to the solitude and silence of the retreat. Every month, he came to the college of Arima, and through prayer, spiritual conversations, and recollection, he refreshed his soul; then he returned to work, renewed and as if rejuvenated by fervor. After having thus devoted himself to the salvation of souls for two years, obedience removed him from his dear mission of Aria and sent him to the college of Kyoto, o r Miyako, an imp Kioto, ou Miyako Major city in Japan where Spinola served as college superior. ortant city in Japan. There, he had to fulfill the duties of minister or second superior for seven years. He made himself admired for his virtues and loved for his charity, his affability, and his gentleness. He once again justified the reputation he had acquired of being an excellent religious worthy of being proposed to all as a model. He was hard and severe only with himself. Every day he took a harsh discipline, and, during Lent, he did not cease striking himself until he had drawn blood.

At the college of Miyako, as in the mission of Aria, he strove to live constantly with God and for God. Thus, every year he spent a month in deep recollection, occupied solely with spiritual exercises and intimate communications with the Lord. During these weeks of retreat, he was so flooded with the sweetness and delights of contemplation that he could not hold back his tears; they flowed abundantly, especially during the celebration of the Holy Mass. In these relations of his soul with God, he drew that truly superhuman strength of soul which made him despise life, and that generous disposition to seize every opportunity to suffer. No one knew as well as he how to lift up courage crushed by the sight of dangers, and to animate, even to the enthusiasm of martyrdom, those whom threats alone dismayed. While he lived at the college of Miyako, he was charged with directing the congregation of catechists, and he formed them in virtue as much by his words as by his examples. A man of sincere humility, he disdained no one; the smallest, the most miserable, the most degraded, were not beneath the attentions of his charity. It was not enough for him to relieve the poor by giving them alms; he served them with his own hands. But these voluntary humiliations only turned to his honor and increased the veneration held for him. He was never heard to speak of his actions or the illustration of his family: he thought only of one thing: to despise and humble himself. It must have cost him to be kept within the walls of a college and to be unable to give his zeal free rein. A child of obedience, he did not complain against this decision of authority. He seized every opportunity to practice zeal, especially through the ministry of confession. He was always ready to receive those who presented themselves to him; and one never noticed on his features a sign of boredom, nor was he ever heard to excuse himself under any pretext when he was called to exercise this kind of ministry. He also made some apostolic excursions in the vicinity of Miyako. It was during one of these journeys that he was miraculously saved from imminent peril. As he was crossing a river, the boat on which he was traveling overturned, and he was plunged to the bottom of the water where he remained for some time, which caused him a serious illness.

After seven years spent at the college of Miyako, Father Spinola was appointed procurator of the province of Japan. This office was of the highest importance. The one invested with it saw, so to speak, all the interests of the mission entrusted to his care. To properly exercise such functions, one needs an immense charity that embraces all the missionaries scattered over a vast territory; that gives them what is necessary for food, clothing, the exercise of the ministry, and travel; that welcomes all requests with kindness and often anticipates them with delicate attentions. The choice of Father Spinola was well made, for he was a man of broad mind, magnanimous heart, and a generous and compassionate soul. He obeyed and left Miyako to go to Nangasaki, an important city whose port, frequented by the ships of European merchants, facilitated the mission procurator's relations with Catholic nations. The news of his departure deeply saddened the Christians who loved and revered him. He had already acquired over the Japanese that ascendancy of merit and virtue which this intelligent people, with their upright judgment and elevated souls, had recognized in him.

Father Spinola exercised this office for seven years, that is to say, until the day he was arrested. It is impossible to recount all the good that his charity accomplished in the exercise of this charge. He provided for all the needs of the missionaries; a fact all the more remarkable as the persecution raised against Christianity was at its most violent and made the task of bringing in and distributing necessary items more difficult.

The persecution, which had begun some years earlier, was to take on terrible proportions. In 1614, Shogun-Sama issued a new edict of proscription and banishment against all preachers of the Gospel, threatening with the torture of fire all those who would not obey his orders. Several people of different conditions had already been condemned to die for the name of Jesus Christ when Father Spinola, who had remained secretly in the kingdom with a few other Jesuits, was charged with exercising the functions of vicar general in Ximo, one of the great islands of Japan, which modern geographers call Kyushu. The bishop of Japan had just died, and Father Valentin Carvalho, then provincial of the Jesuits, was, according to the orders of the Sovereign Pontiff, administrator of this vast diocese. As he himself was forced to hide, he had to entrust a part of his authority to a faithful and devoted man: he chose Father Spinola.

It was in his capacity as vicar general of the bishop of Japan that, in 1615, he conducted the official investigations and legal inquiries into the actions and death of the martyrs who had fought and triumphed at Arima. One can easily conceive of the holy envy he bore toward these glorious athletes when one recalls the thought he had long nurtured of giving his life for Jesus Christ. In order to be less known and to more easily evade the searches of the Japanese police emissaries, Father Spinola changed his name. By allusion to the death he desired to suffer, he called himself Joseph of the Cross. We have few details on the labors and fatigues of his apostolate during this period. Time was pressing; it was necessary to fight, to exhort, to strengthen courage, to purify consciences, to distribute the bread of the strong, to stand in the breach, and to watch so as not to be surprised by the satellites intent on the pursuit of missionaries.

What increased the peril was the care of the affairs of the province, for which he remained responsible. He had to be less hidden than the others because he was the one to whom everyone turned. Moreover, the desire to wear chains and to shed his blood for Jesus Christ had made him so intrepid that everyone admired the courage and composure with which he braved death a thousand times. He had learned, through a supernatural knowledge, that he would one day fall into the hands of the persecutors; but he did not know the hour marked in the counsels of God. He could only say: *Paratum cor meum, Deus, paratum cor meum*: "My heart is ready, O God, my heart is ready." Forty days before being arrested, those who saw him familiarly observed in him signs of extraordinary fervor. He celebrated the divine sacrifice more slowly, gave more time to prayer, and showed himself more cheerful and affable in intimacy.

The fury of the enemies of the Christian name increased every day; they knew, through the revelations of some apostates, the names of the missionaries who were hiding. Gonzoco, governor of Nangasaki, had long desired to seize Fathers de Couros and Spinola, whose apostolic activity and energy sustained the Christians of that city. He spa red not Gonzoco Governor of Nagasaki responsible for the arrest and execution of Christians. hing to discover their retreat.

After some searching, Father Spinola was arrested in the house of a Portuguese man named Dominique Georges, along with Brother Ambrose Fernandez. They immediately bound his neck, hands, and feet so tightly that the flesh, torn by the ropes, always bore the livid scars of these bruises thereafter. The two captives were immediately taken to the governor, where two other prisoners, belonging to the Order of Saint Dominic, were brought a few hours later. The four religious were relegated to a courtyard, where they were left all night and the following day exposed to the insults of the weather, tormented by the cold, and suffering greatly from the bonds that cruelly tightened their limbs. On the evening of the second day, some Christian servants of the governor, touched by compassion, loosened the captives' bonds a little. During the night, Father Spinola heard the confessions of these Christians and asked for religious habits for himself and for Father Fernandez.

The missionaries of Nagasaki had dressed like the Portuguese in order to more easily evade the searches of the governor's officers and spies. Under this disguise, one could not recognize the priest and the religious; Father Spinola had the clothes that the Jesuits used in the country brought to him, and it was in his religious habit that he was presented to the governor and underwent his first interrogation. He did not fear urging Gonzoco to recognize the law of the true God. He showed that the bonds that deprived him of the use of his limbs had in no way diminished the freedom of his spirit within him. Souls are never captive; this noble independence of the higher part of the human being is what constitutes its dignity.

To reason with human justice when it prepares to commit iniquity is to condemn oneself. Father Spinola knew this; but it was not for his judges that he pronounced this defense, so moderate in its expressions and so strong in its thought. There were Christians there who heard him; the Jesuit reassured them by silencing his accusers. After the interrogation of the other prisoners, conducted with the help of an interpreter, they were taken back to prison. The governor, fearing that if he left the captives in Nagasaki, too great a crowd of the faithful would gather around them, placed them in the prison of Suzutat, near Omura, where other Christians were confined. Gonzoco was not mistaken. There was a fairly c onsider Suzutat Location of the high-security prison where Spinola was held for four years. able number of the faithful in Nagasaki. The captives of Jesus Christ found, upon leaving the city, roads lined with pious Christians who showed them their veneration and their affliction.

Father Spinola, bound like a criminal and escorted by soldiers, walked first, having at his side a satellite who held the rope attached to the saintly missionary's neck. The other prisoners followed, led and bound in the same manner. The procession struggled to make its way through the crowd. Christians pressed in from all sides to touch the garments of the confessors of the faith or to address them with a farewell full of sadness. Father Spinola consoled them with affectionate words full of resignation. Upon leaving Gonzoco, he said to him: "I thank you for having made me a prisoner, and I am very far from reproaching you for it." He walked while meditating with his companions on the captivity of Our Lord or by singing psalms, full of joy that he had been judged worthy to suffer some outrage for the name of Jesus. They arrived quite late at the place where they were to spend the night. There, some Christians took advantage of the presence of the confessors of the faith to purify their consciences. Father Spinola refused out of humility a horse that was offered to him, preferring to go on foot to the shore, where he was to embark for a very short journey to Suzutat. As soon as they approached the prison, they intoned hymns and canticles, and at this signal, the captives who were there responded to these songs of joy, thus greeting the arrival of their new companions.

Father Spinola had been arrested in the month of December 1618; he was to see his captivity prolonged for nearly four years, to hear the account of the terrible ravages that were to desolate the Church of Japan, and to witness many ruins. However, he thanked the Lord that He had spared the presence of several missionaries and allowed them to escape the searches of the persecutors.

On April 7, 1619, the confessors of the faith were led to Suzutat, into a prison that did honor to the barbaric genius of its inventor. Built of stakes placed two fingers apart, it was two meters seven centimeters wide and five meters twenty centimeters long. Beams on which rough planks were placed formed the floor, and the door was so narrow that it barely allowed the passage of a man's body. On one side opened a small window through which food was passed. There was around the prison a space nearly two meters wide, which was enclosed by a double row of long, tight stakes, tipped with points and garnished with thorns; finally, a third palisaded enclosure where the main door and the passage leading to the inner prison were located. Thus, it was a sort of cage exposed to all the winds, preserving neither from the fires of the sun nor from the rigors of winter, where one could not stretch out to rest; a place of torture where the confessors of Jesus Christ were going to consume themselves slowly, delivered to the horrors of hunger, nakedness, and infection... The love of God that fills their hearts will be stronger than these torments. Here they are advancing, and, upon perceiving this dwelling that is destined for them, they sing with the Psalmist: *Læatus sum in his quæ dicta sunt mihi : in domum Domini ibimus*: "I rejoiced in the words that were said to me: we shall go into the house of the Lord."

Father Spinola only left this prison twice: the first time to go to Pirando, and the second to walk to his death. What he had to suffer, as well as his companions, during these four years of captivity, defies imagination. They were given so little food that their life was a perpetual and very rigorous fast, with just enough to keep death away, but never enough to appease hunger. These prolonged deprivations had so weakened Father Spinola that he often wondered if a death caused by the total exhaustion of his strength would not come to take him suddenly; but God amply compensated for this destitution with the delights of His presence in the depths of their hearts. Their greatest consolation was to be able to celebrate the Holy Mass, and, by a particular mark of divine goodness, they never lacked hosts, wine, candles, and other objects necessary for the holy sacrifice. The unfortunate captives, in their prison open to all the winds, were exposed during the summer to all the heat of a burning sun, and during the winter to the cold air, rain, and snow, without being able to protect themselves from it. They were allowed neither to change their worn-out linen nor to wash it when it was dirty, so that, from head to toe, they were covered with vermin. Their gaunt and livid faces, their disheveled hair, and their long, bristling beards gave an idea of the atrocious sufferings they endured, and against all these physical and moral tortures, they had no other remedy than patience and their firm hope in God.

The invincible patience of Father Spinola in enduring the long tortures of his prison, and his unshakable courage, which seemed eager for new sufferings, excited just admiration. It was a struggle sustained for nearly four years. These slow tortures, which had drunk the blood from his veins, had so disfigured him that he had become unrecognizable to his friends. However, the torments of his captivity did not yet appease his thirst for suffering. He added voluntary penances to them. In the midst of the deprivations he endured, he imposed upon himself, several times a week, a fast more rigorous than that to which the prison regime usually subjected them. He wore the cilice almost continuously. Every day, with the exception of feast days, he took the discipline with his fellow captives. Charity united all the hearts of the confessors of the faith, and to better preserve it, the authority of superior was deferred in turn each week to one of them.

The serious illnesses to which Father Spinola was subject often brought him to the gates of the tomb. He did not even have a little water to quench the thirst that devoured him in the heat of fever, and the guards, whose cruelty accumulated the deprivations, did not allow water to be brought outside of meal times. However, in the midst of this universal distress, his soul enjoyed incredible delights in prayer. His only sorrow in the midst of his sufferings was to see himself, through the loss of his strength and the weakening of his head, in the impossibility of applying himself as before to recollection or to the habitual union of his soul with God. He sought to draw from this weakness a new subject of joy, thinking that it was the symptom of an approaching dissolution of his body. But he was not to die in chains. It was Brother Ambrose Fernandez who paid this tribute to the tortures of the prison. Arrested at the same time as Father Spinola, he shared his captivity; but, weakened by age (he was sixty-nine years old), he could not resist so many sufferings. He died from the consequences of this accumulation of evils on January 7, 1620, and was beatified on July 7, 1867, by Pope Pius IX. Death had in vain made a void in the ranks of the confessors; their number increased by the addition of new captives.

Father Spin ola saw himself surround frère Ambroise Fernandez Jesuit brother and fellow captive of Spinola, who died in prison. ed by a small troop of generous soldiers who looked upon him with reason as their leader, and prepared themselves for martyrdom in this harsh novitiate of the prison. They had wanted to make it a hell for the unfortunate captives: it had become the vestibule of heaven. Such is one of those prodigious changes that faith operates; such is how, by placing his hopes in the supernatural and invisible regions, the Christian rises above the trials of the earth and takes on superhuman proportions. God is near the just man in his tribulations. Grace sustains nature, which of itself would succumb to the pain, and the Christian triumphs. It is faith that makes us conquer the world.

The governor, Gonzoco, having received the order from the emperor to put all the prisoners to death, had them brought to Nagasaki. The confessors of Jesus Christ finally left the enclosure where they had suffered so much, and were embarked at Suzutat itself, on a small vessel that carried them in a few hours to Nagoya. They were then made to mount horses; Father Spinola walked at the head of the troop; each of them had a rope around his neck and an executioner at his side. They traveled two leagues in this manner. A large number of soldiers surrounded them and had orders to keep away anyone who might attempt to speak to them. Night overtook them in a place called Ouracan, where they were forced to stop.

The prisoners were locked in an enclosure furnished with palisades, like a vile herd, and were left there without shelter; but as an abundant rain occurred, they were crowded into a hut. At daybreak, many Christians rushed over; only three were able to speak with the confessors of the faith. Among them was Father Spinola's catechist. It was through this faithful disciple that the missionary learned he was to be burned alive. The prisoners had not yet been told with certainty the type of death prepared for them. Needless to say, the immense joy of the holy missionary upon learning this good news. To thank his catechist, he wished to give him some souvenir; having nothing left but his discipline, he offered it to him.

The next day, towards the middle of the day, the prisoners were made to mount horses and were led to the place of execution in the same order as they had come. It was a small hill located near Nagasaki, by the sea, five hundred paces fr om the on Nangasaki City in Japan, center of anti-Christian persecution. e where, twenty-five years earlier, twenty-six martyrs had been crucified, and which had since been called the Holy Hill or the Mount of Martyrs. Almost the entire population of Nagasaki had rushed to the mountain or the shore. The streets of the city had become silent and deserted, so that the religious could circulate freely in broad daylight, with more safety than they would have done during the darkness of night.

When the confessors of the faith appeared, an immense clamor arose within the crowd: it was a confused noise of cries, groans, and words. Besides the infidels, the number of Christians who had come to witness the heroic death of the confessors of the faith is estimated at thirty thousand. The paths where they passed were lined with a multitude of the faithful who, all in tears, threw themselves on their knees, asked for their blessing, or commended themselves to their prayers. The confessors of the faith consoled them by saying: "Have confidence; from heaven, where with the help of grace we hope to be soon, we will pray for you. Keep until death the faith that we have taught you, and believe that God, in His goodness, will not abandon His cause in the midst of these great dangers."

As soon as they perceived the preparations made for their execution, they showed their joy by their attitude and their words. They had to wait nearly an hour for the arrival of the second troop of confessors. These, who were to come from the prison of Nagasaki, were destined to perish by the sword. Among these athletes of Jesus Christ, some had been condemned for having given hospitality to the religious. Their wives, their children, and their neighbors were to share their fate. Among them were the wives and sons of four martyrs who, a few years earlier, had been burned alive for the love of Christ. A few days before the execution, Gonzoco had them brought before him to try to shake their conviction. They were pulled from the dungeon where they had been buried for two years; they crossed the city loaded with chains, and in such a miserable state that they excited the pity of all the onlookers. Gonzoco, seeing them pale, emaciated, and unable to stand, had believed that it would not be difficult to bring them back to the national cult of the Kamis; but he was dealing with Christians prepared for combat by penance and prayer, two weapons that make one invincible. He soon realized his error; not a single one allowed himself to be seduced, and he had to send them back to their prison.

The next day, they all went out together to be reunited with the prisoners of Suzutat and consummate their bloody immolation. The two troops of the soldiers of Jesus Christ greeted each other with demonstrations of the most tender charity, and immediately a military detachment was arranged around the enclosure to contain the multitude. An officer of Gonzoco, named Xuquendalu, appeared on a kind of platform, and no sooner was he placed there than he gave the signal to begin the execution. Then, each of those destined for the ordeal of fire was assigned the stake to which he was to be attached.

Twenty-five stakes were planted in a row in a straight line. The first faced the sea, the last the mountain. At the top of each stake hung a rope: all around was placed a pile of wood, which extended from one end of the space to the other and surrounded the twenty-five stakes. This immense pyre was surrounded by an enclosure of large and strong bamboo canes, arranged in the form of a lattice. One entered the enclosure through a door that opened on the side of the mountain.

Father Spinola prostrated himself before the tree of his martyrdom, and embracing it several times, he thanked God for this grace. When they were all attached to their stakes and the native Christians condemned to perish by the sword had been brought before them, Father Spinola intoned in a loud voice the psalm *Laudate Dominum, omnes gentes*, and all the confessors of Jesus Christ, as well as the Christians in the crowd who honored their friendship, kinship, or constancy, continued this canticle of thanksgiving with a spirit and joy that moved the spectators to tears.

While the executioners prepared their swords, the confessors were on their knees, awaiting the mortal blow. Soon the execution began, and one saw two or three heads fly off and fall at the feet of a young child, barely four years old, who was next to his mother, also condemned to death. He saw his mother's head roll without changing color, and himself received the blow of death with an intrepidity that could not be expected at such a tender age. As soon as this first troop of martyrs had consumed their sacrifice, their heads were placed in front of those who were to be burned; then the pyres were set on fire.

The flammable materials had been placed about two and a half meters from the stakes where the confessors of the faith were attached, so that the torture would be slower and more cruel, and that, through prolonged torments, the athletes of Christ would be solicited more strongly to desert their post. This arrangement of ingenious cruelty was to produce this terrible result, of bringing about the death of the martyrs only after a sort of internal roasting. If the flame tended to rise or if the fire became too intense, the executioners took care to moderate it. During these minutes that must have seemed like years, in the midst of these atrocious pains that, like darts of fire, penetrated their entrails, the martyrs were calm and recollected; their bodies motionless, their eyes raised to heaven, they offered their bodies to God as a holocaust, like holy victims placed on the altar of charity.

Father Spinola, completely absorbed in God, seemed to have no more feeling. The wind blew the flames toward his side, so he was one of the first to feel the most vivid and mortal wounds. Sparks set fire to his clothes; he suddenly appeared surrounded by flames, and, unable to resist these devouring ardors any longer, he fell and soon breathed his last. His companions did not delay in following him in death as well as in triumph, on September 10, 1622, according to the most followed and best-authorized opinion. Here are the names of all these glorious martyrs:

François Moralès, priest of the Order of Preachers, Spaniard; — Ange Orsucci, priest of the Order of Preachers, Italian; — Alphonse de Mena, priest of the same Order, Spaniard; — Joseph de Saint-Hyacinthe, priest of the same Order, Spaniard; — Hyacinthe Orfanel, priest of the same Order, Spaniard; — Alexis, professed chorister of the Order of Preachers, Japanese; — Thomas du Rosaire, professed chorister of the Order of Preachers, Japanese; — Dominique du Rosaire, professed chorister of the Order of Preachers, Japanese; — Richard de Sainte-Anne, priest of the Order of Friars Minor, Belgian; — Pierre d'Avila, priest of the Order of Friars Minor, Spaniard; — Vincent de Saint-Joseph, professed layman of the Order of Friars Minor, Spaniard; — Charles Spinola, priest of the Society of Jesus, Italian; — Sébastien Kimura, priest of the Society of Jesus, Japanese; — Gonzalès Fusai; — Antoine Kiouni; — Pierre Sampô; — Michel Xumpo; — Jean Kiongocù; — Jean Acafoci; — Louis Cavara, all seven scholastics of the Society of Jesus and Japanese; — Léon de Satzuma, of the Third Order of Saint Francis, Japanese; — Lucie de Freités, of the Third Order of Saint Francis, Japanese, octogenarian; — Antoine Sanga, catechist of the Fathers of the Society of Jesus, Japanese; — Magdeleine, his wife, Japanese; — Antoine, catechist of the Fathers of the Society of Jesus, Korean; — Marie, his wife, Japanese; — Jean, aged twelve; — Pierre, aged three, their sons; — Paul Nangaci, Japanese; — Thècle, his wife; — Pierre, aged seven, their son; — Paul Tanaco, Japanese; — Marie, his wife; — Isabelle Fernandez, wife of the martyr Dominique Georgi; — Ignace, aged four, their son; — Apollonie, widow and aunt of the martyr Gaspard Cotenda, Japanese; — Dominique Xamada, Japanese; — Claire, his wife; — Marie, wife of the martyr André Tocuan, Japanese; — Agnès, wife of the martyr Cosme Taquea; — Dominique Nacano, son of the martyr Matthias Nacano; — Barthélemy Xikiemon, Japanese; — Damien Samihi, Japanese; — Michel, aged five, his son; — Thomas Xiquiro, aged seventy, Japanese; — Rufus Iscimola, aged seventy, Japanese; — Marie, wife of the martyr Jean Xoum, Japanese; — Clément Vom, Japanese; — Antoine, his son; — Dominique Ongatid, Japanese; — Catherine, widow, Japanese;

Marie Tanaura, Japanese, members of the Confraternity of the Holy Rosary. The martyrs giving no more sign of life, all the avenues leading to the place of execution were guarded. The bodies remained exposed for three days, after which they were thrown into a large pyre. Their ashes and the very earth that had been watered with blood were put into sacks and thrown into the sea. On September 17, 1627, Pope Urban VIII introduced the cause of the canonization of Father Spinola before the Congregation of Rites, and the Sovereign Pontiff Pius IX, by a brief of May 7, 1867, declared them Blessed.

Excerpt from the Life of the Blessed Charles Spinola, of the Society of Jesus, by Fr. Eugène Séguin, of the same Society. Tournai, 1566.