Saint Leonard of Port Maurice

At the age of ten, a ship captain, attracting him and his young companions, tried through caresses and small gifts to lead them into evil: these weak lambs commended themselves to God and immediately took flight to escape the wolf's tooth that was pursuing them. As soon as our Blessed one was out of danger, he went to church to thank God for having saved his innocence; then he made a pilgrimage, barefoot, to Our Lady of the Plain, to show his gratitude to his good Mother. After having studied with the greatest success in his native city, he went to Rome to stay with a paternal uncle named August ine; Rome Birthplace of Maximian. this wise and virtuous man entrusted him to a skilled master and found him a pious confessor in the person of Father Grifonelli, and, charmed by his progress in the sciences and his edifying conduct, he treated him with as much affection as his own children. After three years, he had him follow the public lessons of the Roman College. Our Blessed one had as his master Father Toloméi, whom his knowledge as well as his virtues made famous and who later became a cardinal. His progress was no less in piety than in science. He dedicated himself in a very special way to a life that was entirely interior and spiritual; he approached the Sacraments in the oratories every feast day, and he made it a habit to commend his soul to God every day, evening and morning, as if he were to die that very day or the following night. He was modest, humble, pious, studious, and vigilant over himself, to the point that he never said a word nor performed the slightest action that could be looked upon as a sin, or that was of a nature to cause scandal or astonishment; all his conversations with his companions revolved around subjects of piety or study, so much so that his virtue and exemplary life made him the mirror of all the youth who frequented the Roman College; he was for everyone an object of edification and an accomplished model.

A friend of solitude and retreat, he had few friends, but he had only virtuous ones, as it should be. He loved one of them above all, because he had learned from him the great maxim that, in order not to give way to impatience or other faults, one must walk constantly in the presence of God. This precious companion, having proposed one day to take him to a sermon, led him to a square where one could still see the body of a criminal hanging from the gallows, and, turning toward him, said: "My dear, there is the sermon: whoever lives badly is sooner or later reached by divine justice; for when a man does not have the fear of God, he is capable of committing all crimes." These words and this spectacle deeply moved the servant of God, who conceived an even greater horror of sin.

While still very young, he had himself enrolled in pious congregations, which met, one at the oratory of Father Caravita, a Jesuit, the other at that of Saint Philip Neri, at the Chiesa Nuova; he was already practicing the mission of an apostle, going through the streets and public squares of Rome on feast days, and exhorting everyone to go to the sermons: the inappropriate words, the disdain, and the insults he often had to endure from libertines and irreligious people could not slow his zeal.

He diligently did his spiritual reading, particularly in the Introduction to the Devout Life by Saint Francis de Sales, which he always carried with him, professing a special devotion to the holy author. He often approached the sacraments and found hi s delight in visiting c saint François de Sales Bishop of Geneva who prophesied the vocation of Olier. hurches and hearing sermons; he would retain them in part from memory and then recount them to the people in his house. He himself recounted, in a more advanced age, that having made his general confession while he was still a layman to Father Grifonelli, in the very cell once occupied by Saint Philip Neri, God deigned to give him such a vivid contrition that, changed into another man, he felt the love of austerities and penances increase in his heart; he added later, out of humility, that at that time he had a little fervor, but that since then he had totally lost it.

Preaching in Rome in 1749, and exhorting the faithful to preserve and increase the grace of God within them, among other means he indicated to them to obtain this result, he advised them to affiliate themselves with some pious congregation, assuring them that he spoke from experience and adding that, if he had done any good, and especially avoided evil in his youth, he believed he owed it to the favor he had had of being aggregated to the oratory of Father Caravita and that of the Chiesa Nuova.

In the pious meetings of these congregations, he was inflamed with such love for virtue, with such a desire to suffer and mortify his body, that upon returning to his uncle's house, he could not help but let the fervor with which he was filled shine through; he spoke only of the things of God, recounted the lives of the Saints who were commemorated that day, or delivered the sermons and instructions he had heard, either in the oratories or in the churches. He often gave himself to these pious lessons in the evening during supper, and he was so preoccupied with his subject that he even forgot to eat. His uncle, noticing sometimes that the meal was going to end without his having taken the slightest thing, would order him to be silent and eat, adding that his listeners would take care to imitate the life of the Saints of whom he had spoken. However, some surmised from this that this virtuous young man would one day become a great preacher; others noticed that he intentionally spent the supper hour in these pious conversations so that, in the meantime, the dishes he wanted to deprive himself of would cool, giving him a pretext to do without them and thus hide his spirit of mortification. He used a thousand ruses to hide in the same way the other penances by which he chastised his body in order to subject it to the spirit; however, he could not prevent various people in the house from noticing clearly that he left his bed at night to lie on the bare floor of his room, resting his head on a board or on a stone that he kept hidden in his room; other instruments of penance were also found, such as disciplines and hairshirts, which it was very well noted he made use of.

Although he lived in the world as not being of the world, he resolved to better ensure his salvation and to serve God more perfectly by following the inner voice that called him to the religious state. He spoke of it to his confessor, who first wanted to prepare him for such a holy vocation through the most humiliating trials. One day, he ordered him to go to the booksellers of Rome to buy a book that contained, gathered in a single well-bound volume, the fables of Aesop, Bertoldo, and Bertoldino. Although the young man foresaw at that very moment the impossibility of finding such a book, and the mockery to which his efforts would expose him, he immediately set out to execute this strange order, and he went around the bookstores without being discouraged, although he gathered from his searches only what he had foreseen. Finally, as if nothing had happened, he returned cheerfully to the Chiesa Nuova to tell Father Grifonelli that he had not been able to find the book in question, but that he was prepared to start again and make more diligent searches if he deemed it good; the latter replied that he was convinced that his stupidity would not allow him to find such an easy thing; the young man remained silent and did not say a word to defend or excuse himself.

While Paul-Jerome, multiplying his prayers and penances, asked Our Lord to make His holy will definitively known to him, he saw, while crossing the Piazza del Gesù, two religious of poor appearance and very modest demeanor; he was edified and struck by their aspect, and, as he recounted later when speaking of his vocation, it seemed to him that he saw two angels descended from heaven; at the same time, he felt inflamed with the desire to embrace their way of life. But, not knowing to which Order they belonged, nor which convent they inhabited, he began to follow them until he saw them enter the convent or retreat of Saint Bonaventure, located on the Palatine, and inhabited by the Friars Minor, who are the poorest of the various branches of the Order. He entered the church of the convent at the moment when the religious were beginning the recitation of Compline, and he heard the first words: Converte nos, Deus, salutaris noster: "Convert us, O God, our Savior!" He felt immediately struck to the heart by these words, and, enlightened by a light from above, he determined on the spot to embrace this rigorous institute, saying to himself: Hac requies mea: "This is the place of my rest." Indeed, he presented himself to this house, after having consulted his confessor and other pious persons, despite the resistance of his uncle, on October 2, 1697, and received at the same time the name Leonard. His humility has made known to us with what fer vor he Léonard Saint whose prophetic letter called for the definition of the mystery. made his novitiate: for, in a more advanced age, when he happened to speak of this happy time, he called the day he had received the religious habit the day of his conversion, and the year of his novitiate the holy year: he complained of having lost the devotion he had then, and of having only regressed instead of advancing on the path of perfection. It was foreseen from then on that he would one day be the glory of the Order. He was admitted unanimously to solemn profession on October 2, 1698. As soon as he had pronounced his vows, he was applied to the study of theology. One soon admired, not only his success in this science, but also his great regularity. He exhorted his companions to be faithful even in the smallest things, and exact in keeping the pious practices of the Order, for the reason that one must not regard as a small thing what can please or displease God. "If, while we are young," he sometimes added, "we do not value small things and if we fail in them with awareness, we will allow ourselves to fail in the most important points when we are more advanced in age and have more freedom." If, by his conduct, he served as a model, by such discourses he animated the other religious to the practice of all virtues; thus the community was amazed to see with what rapidity he tended toward the most sublime holiness. This thought followed him even during the hours of recreation, when he walked in the garden with his confreres: "Let us hope in God," he was accustomed to say, "and with the help of His grace, which never fails, we can not only be good, but even become Saints." He led them to choose each week a virtue, of which each one had to produce as many acts as possible during that time; this virtue and the means to acquire it were to be the subject of their conversations. He also established that, if anyone were to commit a fault, he would be obliged, in the conference they had among themselves, to kneel before one of his fellow students, to ask him to have the charity to warn him of the failings that had been noticed in him, and to promise, with the help of God, to amend himself.

Inflamed with love for God and zeal for the salvation of his neighbor, he nurtured the keenest desire to go among the infidels, and was on the point of accompanying M. de Tournon, who later became a cardinal, to China; but the Lord, who wanted him to evangelize the peoples of Italy, did not permit this project to be realized: he often repeated later that he had not been judged worthy to shed his blood for Jesus Christ. When he learned of the persecution that sent so many martyrs to heaven in that distant land: "I too," he would exclaim, "should have been one of them, but my sins were the cause that I did not go there." When he was ordained a priest, he made it a habit to confess every morning before going to the altar: he often even confessed in the evening and in the morning. He finished his studies with marvelous success, which was due no less to his application than to his natural talents. In his conferences to religious, he returned throughout his life to the necessity of acquiring new knowledge to procure the glory of God and the salvation of souls; which can only be done through study. He sometimes added that he had always studied and that he was still studying continuously for this purpose. Thus he knew how to unite the reputation of a scholar with that of a Saint: this is why he was named professor of philosophy. But Providence, which wanted to make of him, not a Thomas Aquinas, but a Vincent Ferrer, permitted him to fall ill: his delicate constitution, his rigorous penances, and his application to study soon made his health hopeless: he became like a skeleton having nothing left but skin and bones. He was obliged to go to Naples, then to Port-Maurice, his native land, to recover.

There, after having experienced the impotence of human remedies, he turned to the Blessed Virgin, begging her to obtain from her divine Son a health that he would consecrate to winning souls for heaven. His prayer was answered; the infirmity from which he had suffered for five years disappeared so completely that he was able to undertake and continue without respite works more numerous, more difficult, and more glorious than those of Hercules, since he struck down monsters far more terrible, we mean those that devour souls. He began by making known the pious exercise of the Way of the Cross and the incomparable treasure of indulgences that can be gained by practicing it; he even worked with the sovereign pontiffs Benedict XIII, Clement XII, and Benedict XIV, so that these indulgence Benoît XIV Pope who beatified Jerome Emiliani. s might be extended to all places. It was in the diocese of Albenga that he held his first mission, at Artallo, two miles from Port-Maurice. He left this residence every morning and returned in the evening, barefoot, even though it was the middle of winter, a practice he continued, despite his fatigue, until the penultimate year of his life, when Benedict XIV obliged him to wear sandals. Two traits will suffice to show the fruits that our Blessed one must have gathered in this mission.

One day, as he was returning quite late, according to his custom, to the convent of the Observant Friars where he was staying, he noticed a man following him while heaving deep sighs; he turned around, waited for him, engaged him in conversation on a spiritual subject, and asked if he could be of any use to him, assuring him that he was ready to help. The poor man, falling to his knees, said to him while weeping: "My father, you have at your feet the greatest sinner on earth." The Blessed one, moved by his words and tears, immediately replied: "And you, my son, have found in me, wretched as I am, a father who will be full of tenderness for you." He encouraged this sinner to reconcile with God, led him to the convent, heard his long confession, and dismissed him full of joy at seeing himself unburdened of a weight of sins which, until then, he had not been able to bring himself to confess.

On the occasion of the feast of Saint Bartholomew, Apostle, which was to be celebrated in Caramagna, he was invited to preach a sermon there: having been warned of an abuse that recurred every year on that same day, which consisted of men and women dancing together in public, turning a feast day into a true carnival, he rose up with force against such disorder, showing with the strongest reasons that the devil has everything to gain in balls. Despite this, most of his listeners, barely out of the church, went, as in other years, to the place where they were dancing. Leonard, being informed of this, took a crucifix in his hand, and, accompanied by two men carrying lighted candles, went to the scene himself. At his appearance, the musicians and others took flight, but he invited them to stop, addressed them, and made such a vivid impression on those present that the whole crowd, melting into tears, offered the spectacle of the most sincere and universal repentance. It happened that, while he was speaking, an arm of the crucifix detached itself from the cross; the people, at this sight more moved than ever, cried out asking God for mercy; the man of God took advantage of this circumstance to condemn with more energy the guilty practice of profaning with balls the feasts consecrated to the Saints; adding that the Lord had wished to make it understood by this sign that He was ready to launch His thunderbolt if they did not promise to no longer commit these kinds of profanations. The people, seized with a holy fear, promised it on the spot, and have faithfully kept their promise ever since. The new missionary, seeing that heaven was blessing his labors, was encouraged in preaching, for the spiritual good of his neighbor; so that he ran wherever he was called, without worrying about fatigue or difficulties.

It is impossible to say how many sinners he drew from their wanderings; almost all of Italy was successively witness to his labors and his victories over sin. The Grand Duke of Tuscany, Cosimo III, called him to reform the morals of his States, and he often went to visit him to learn how to gove rn others Cosme III Grand Duke of Tuscany, protector and friend of the saint. and above all, which is much more difficult, how to govern himself. In order to extend as much as possible the fruits of our apostle's zeal, he asked him to give missions throughout the Grand Duchy, offering him assistance and protection, both for himself and for his companions. The servant of God thanked this good prince for his generosity, and told him with a holy freedom that he would very willingly take charge of working in the Lord's vineyard, but that, as for his maintenance, he had a Master richer than His Highness, who had always provided for it in the past, and would certainly not fail to do so in the future. The Grand Duke asked him who this master was, and he replied that it was God Himself, upon whose providence he relied, wishing to live only on alms, persuaded that this divine Master would not forget him while he worked for His glory. One can conceive how this prince, who was very religious, was edified by such a response. He appointed someone to take care of the missionary, and here are the terms in which this person reports, in a letter, the results of the mission of Pitigliano: "I cannot help but inform you, in the sentiments of the liveliest joy, of the happiness Pitigliano has had in possessing this great servant of God, who is finishing his mission there, to then go to Sorano, and sanctify that place in its turn; for it is not only converting, it is sanctifying, that he does. Father Leonard is an instrument of the Holy Spirit, who, by his good manners, attracts to himself all those who hear him, even the most hardened. I have the honor of having been charged by His Royal Highness to serve him and to have everything he needs prepared for him; but I have had few occasions to be useful to him, or to his companions; for the little they take for their food, they go and beg for. I had had a small apartment prepared for him consisting of five rooms, with a bed for him, provided with mattresses and everything suitable; barely arrived, he had everything taken away to put in its place a few planks on which he takes his rest at night. I believe that God preserves his life through a special assistance, for it is not possible to sustain oneself naturally in the midst of such great fatigues, with such harsh penances."

One cannot have an idea of the multitudes that pressed around our Blessed one, as formerly in the footsteps of the Son of God, to receive the bread of the divine word. One day, when a miraculous image of the Blessed Virgin was being carried in procession, to thank this good Mother for having delivered Tuscany from the plague, the number of the faithful who attended this touching ceremony amounted to more than one hundred thousand. When the procession arrived at the summit of the hill of Saint Mary, the holy missionary delivered a warm speech which was clearly heard by the whole multitude, without the most distant, who were a good mile away from the preacher, losing a single word. This speech was followed by the blessing; and at the same time, cannons, placed on purpose on high places, at intervals throughout the extent of the country, made a general discharge, so that all of Tuscany would be warned of the precise moment of the blessing, and that everyone, in whatever place they might be, could prostrate themselves to receive it. The emotion was at its height, all the people were melting into tears.

All the dioceses would have liked to possess the servant of God; he traveled through those of Massa, Arezzo, Volterra, and the countryside of Siena, gathering everywhere abundant harvests for heaven. One did not know which to admire more: his zeal, his eloquence, or his austerities. The Bishop of San Miniato, thanking in a letter the Father Guardian of Saint Francis of the Mount for having sent him such a holy and zealous apostle, expresses himself thus: "Father Leonard returns to his holy retreat laden with merits; he has worked with admirable zeal for fifteen days, and I could also say for fifteen nights, for the salvation of my beloved flock. Nothing surpasses his devotion, if not, I dare to hope, the fruits he produces. For my part, I say that divine grace triumphs in him, for it does not seem possible to me that, without a very special help from God, a man could do so much."

Here is now what the parish priest of Saint Roch, near Pistoia, wrote when our Blessed one had finished the mission there: "Blessed be the hour when the thought came to me to importune you, my Reverend Father, to obtain Father Leonard. All that God has deigned to accomplish through the means of his servant, God alone could make known, because God alone knows it. The whole city venerates Father Leonard as a Saint, as a learned preacher, as a fervent missionary, and all souls have been as if chained to his word of fire. He breaks hearts, even the most indifferent, who only lend an ear to what flatters them, and close it to the truth. No one has been able to resist except those who did not come to hear him. His audience was of the most numerous; at the second procession of penance it is judged that there were well fifteen thousand people, and at the papal blessing about twenty thousand. All the confessors of the city had much to do, and one noticed in all the penitents extraordinary dispositions, a very lively preoccupation with the needs of their soul and a profound forgetfulness of everything else. He took with him the universal regrets manifested by the tears of the faithful who would not let him leave. Thus, the city especially awaits with anxiety the happiness of possessing him again. The most notable inhabitants of Pistoia, men and women, came to Saint Roch at very inconvenient hours and in the heat of the day, to be able to hear him and confess to him. Many people spent the night under the portico of the church. God be blessed, who deigns to visit his Church by sending it such servants! One can judge the fruit of the mission, just by seeing the devotion with which the exercise of the Way of the Cross is practiced. It is a quite strange thing to see the men and ladies of quality of Pistoia, so hostile to external demonstrations of piety, doing the Way of the Cross with so much recollection and fervor, that they do not blush to kiss the earth, and this even since the mission is finished."

In 1715, while working in this manner in Tuscany, and precisely after the missions we have just described, he was appointed guardian and director of the convent of Saint Francis of the Mount, in Florence. He established the greatest regularity there through his exhortations and his examples. He spoke with such warmth and unction that one felt, while listening to him, moved not only to be good, but to become a Saint. Not content with observing with great exactitude all that was prescribed, he also gave himself over to great austerities; he took only a short rest on bare boards and had only a piece of wood for a pillow; he took only one meal a day, and it was a simple vegetable: he walked barefoot, even in the most rigorous cold; he wore in every season only a single garment, all torn and patched, not to mention many other mortifications that we will have occasion to mention later. One could not sufficiently admire the charity he showed at every encounter in helping his religious as well as secular persons, sparing himself no fatigue to lead the former to perfect observance, and to assist the latter in any of their needs.

But the solitude of an ordinary convent was not enough for our Blessed one; he sought, like the seraphic Saint Francis, a secluded place where he could, at least from time to time, live alone with his God, and warm at this hearth of eternal heat a soul that cools as it moves away from it. Our Lord granted his prayers and provided him with a hermitage situated on a mountain, six miles from Florence, and called Saint Mary of the Incontro. With the consent of the superiors of his Order, Leonard established there a solitu de for the benefit of the Sainte-Marie de l'Incontro Hermitage founded by Leonard on a mountain near Florence. religious whom God, by a particular inspiration, would call there from time to time. He drew up constitutions which were approved, and on the day of the Annunciation, he set out barefoot on the snow with some religious, singing psalms and canticles. He ensured that the rules of the strictest poverty were observed. The cell of each solitary was so small that by stretching one's arms, one could easily reach both ends, and by raising them, touch the vault, formed of simple reeds.

As for food, he established that neither meat, nor eggs, nor dairy products, nor fish would be eaten, and that the nine Lents would be observed there, following the example of Saint Francis; so that except for fifteen or sixteen days a year, when it was permitted to make use of eggs and dairy products, a fast so rigorous was observed that the food could be regarded as a continual penance; one had at noon only a dish of herbs and a dish of vegetables, with some fruit, and in the evening, the simple collation that is permitted on days of fasting prescribed by the Church. He further ordered that one would sleep on the hard ground, and that everyone would practice other mortifications as well. The pious solitaries embraced all his austerities with such joy and eagerness that they were for one another the object of a holy emulation and that they always aspired to do more.

Blessed Leonard, in his capacity as founder of this solitude, to set an example for his own, wished to be the first to retire there and to rigorously execute all the points of his Rule, doing in addition everything that his love of suffering and the fervor of his spirit could suggest to him. He observed that continual and rigorous silence which was prescribed; he attended day and night, without ever missing it, the vocal and mental prayer that was done in common; he practiced that severe retreat, which did not allow anyone, except the superior, to administer the sacraments, nor to write, nor to receive letters, unless from high-ranking personages; he gave himself the discipline, as the Rule indicated, each night, after Matins, and during the day, after Vespers; he applied himself like the others, for an hour, to manual labor.

He would have liked never to leave this solitude: he called it the place of his delights, and, while going there, he said that he was going to make the novitiate of paradise. Only obedience and his ardent zeal for the conversion of sinners could tear him away from it. Thus he went there regularly twice a year; he even spent months there to make the spiritual exercises; he also went there at the approach of a solemnity, to better prepare himself to celebrate it, and when he returned from the missions to which, by order of Clement XI, he had to apply himself, even during the time he was guardian, his rest, after a life of apostolate and fatigue, was a more mortified and more penitent life in this desert. When he was about to leave the convent to go to this dear solitude, the evening before his departure, he would prostrate himself in the middle of the refectory, a stone hanging from his neck, and accusing himself of being a man of a lukewarm and negligent life, needing the assistance of God to revive his fervor and amend himself; he consequently asked for pardon from the religious community and begged it to obtain for him from God, through its prayers, the grace to change his life. It was in these sentiments that he retired to work for his sanctification, and he emerged from his retreat full of a fervor that cannot be described.

The good odor of the entirely angelic life that was led in this sanctuary spread outside. Regulars from various institutes asked to be admitted there to make the spiritual exercises, and, after having stayed there for a few days, they returned deeply touched and edified. Many men of the world even, moved by the desire to amend themselves, regarded it as a singular favor to be able to spend a week there with these solitaries; they took part in their pious and austere exercises day and night, and even wanted to wear their coarse tunic during these days of retreat; and, when the moment of departure arrived, they protested while shedding tears that they were leaving a paradise. Other distinguished personages, both ecclesiastical and secular, wanted to visit this holy place, and by noticing the poverty and austerity that reigned there, as well as the fervor with which one gave oneself to the exercise of Christian perfection, they returned full of astonishment and edification, praising God, who does not fail to send to his Church faithful servants, solely attentive to serving and glorifying him. The Grand Duke himself, Cosimo III, having heard that there was much talk in Florence of this solitude and the religious who inhabited it, went there in person with his court, and visited its smallest parts in detail; later, it received the visit of the Serene Electress Princess, his daughter, in the company of Mgr Conti della Gherardesca, Archbishop of Florence; everyone was amazed and seized with a holy awe at the sight of the place, as much as with admiration for its inhabitants. The Sovereign Pontiff, Clement XI, upon reading the constitutions and what they prescribed, could not hold back his tears and exclaimed that they realized the most perfect idea of a Friar Minor, and that he was spreading the flames with which his heart burned throughout almost all of Italy. Thus it would be difficult to say how far the public veneration for this great servant of God went.

At his prayer, Cosimo III, Grand Duke of Tuscany, had the trial of a young girl sentenced to death and about to be executed reviewed: she was found innocent and owed her life to the charity and influence of Leonard. In a city in the diocese of Pisa, he produced an extraordinary emotion in his audience while preaching on scandal; while he was publicly disciplining himself, according to the custom practiced in Italy during missions, the local parish priest climbed onto the platform, seized the instrument of penance, and began to scourge his own bare shoulders harshly, confessing aloud that he himself was the scandalous one; the people, who were already melting into tears, were even more moved to see their worthy pastor, a virtuous and edifying priest, give them this striking mark of humility. Mgr Frosini, Archbishop of Pisa, having heard of the wonders that this evangelical worker was performing in his diocese, wished to hear him in person. He therefore went to Pontedera, six miles from Pisa, where the man of God was then located; he arrived in the middle of the sermon on the Last Judgment, and, seeing the emotion of the people who were sobbing and crying out for mercy, to the point of often interrupting the preacher, he confessed that he had never seen so many tears and sobs. The city of Livorno seemed to be the sink of all vices: the minister of God undertook to convert it as Carnival approached: tears were soon shed at his sermons, and the most manifest signs of repentance were publicly given; there was no more talk of Carnival, and, although great preparations and expenses had been made, the masquerades were prohibited by common consent; as for the theaters, they remained closed for lack of spectators, and multitudes of penitents besieged the holy tribunals of penance day and night. More than forty people of ill repute having come to the sermon out of curiosity, without the slightest intention of changing their lives, were frightened by their state upon hearing the terrible threats of the preacher against those who hate their own soul to the point of preferring a vile pleasure to it, and who fear so little to lose it eternally: they conceived such sorrow for their sins that they all burst into sobs together and began to cry for mercy and to ask God and the city for forgiveness for the scandal they had caused until then. The pious missionary gathered them and placed them in a private house, from which, in the following days, they were seen coming out, dressed in a habit of penance, to go to the church; God thus granted them the grace to edify the city they had scandalized. The churches of Rome were too small for the crowd, which was eager to hear our Blessed one when he began his apostolic labors there on October 28, 1730. Everyone was struck by the strength and holy freedom with which he rebuked vice, highlighted its ugliness, and exhorted everyone to detest it. Could one hold back one's tears upon seeing him accompany his words with a harsh discipline that he inflicted upon his bare shoulders with an iron instrument, until blood flowed in abundance? The people were no less edified to see him walking barefoot and dressed poorly. He was quite accustomed, in his missions, to giving a sermon on the souls in Purgatory, followed by a collection whose proceeds were used in their favor. Seeing then the prodigious gathering of people of all ranks and conditions who were crowding into Saint-Charles, he decided to give this sermon there. His audience, upon hearing him, was touched by such vivid compassion for the souls in Purgatory that more than seven hundred Roman scudi (nearly four thousand francs) were collected that evening in the church alone; some even deposited their rings and even their swords. He did not wish, in this circumstance, any more than in any other, to take charge of the use of this money himself; he left to others the care of distributing it among the different churches of Rome to have masses said there for the souls of the deceased.

He preached penance in the city of Velletri with wonderful success; in order to extirpate the blasphemy that reigned then and to make them conceive all the horror that this frightful sin must inspire, he led the inhabitants to trace the monogram of the most holy name of Jesus above their doors; he recommended this pious practice everywhere, following the example of Saint Bernardino of Siena.

The Grand Duke of Tuscany and Princess Violante could not bear the absence of our Blessed one; they recalled him to their States, where he was received amidst the transports of universal joy. While opening the mission in the diocese of Lucca, he declared to the audience with extraordinary assurance that there was an obstinate people there, determined to persevere in their disorders and not to change their lives; that if his voice and his strength were not capable of shaking them, he prayed to God to let his thunder burst forth to break their hardness. Scarcely had he uttered these words than a frightful clap of thunder was heard from a clear sky, while lightning bolts crisscrossed the church in all directions, and without touching bodies, brought fear and consternation into souls. The people, moved beyond all expression, seeing that God was confirming with such striking signs the efforts of his minister for the conversion of sinners, responded with the most unanimous eagerness to the call of grace.

Here are a few more examples of the striking signs with which God took care to accompany the words of his servant. At Sezze, he rose up strongly against the infernal habit of blasphemy that dominated in that place. A young debauchee, a great blasphemer, laughed at his threats: one day, while he was crossing the city on horseback at the time of the sermon, he suddenly fell to the ground and died miserably, his tongue hanging out of his mouth in a frightful manner and black as a coal. This fact was viewed by everyone as a manifest punishment from heaven, and made them conceive a salutary fear of the judgments of God, who has a time to punish those who, instead of opening their ears to his warnings, despise them and mock them.

This is what was seen in the diocese of Velletri during the Carnival of 1732. Leonard had strongly exhorted the people to abstain from balls and masquerades. Some people, who had come to listen to him from a neighboring village, barely returned home when they accepted an invitation to a party, without taking into account the pressing exhortations of the missionary; they went there indeed, but soon the joy turned to mourning; for, in the middle of the ball, the floor of the hall where they had gathered suddenly collapsed, and everyone was more or less seriously injured; it was even noted that those who had been the promoters of the party were all reduced to the point of death. The lord of the place wanted to punish them severely; but, upon reflection, he judged it good to inflict upon them a punishment that became salutary for their souls: this was to oblige them all to go in procession to the exercises of the mission that Father Leonard was giving in Segni. They obeyed in the sentiments of true repentance and were a subject of general edification.

The city of Viterbo was witness to a much more terrible punishment. Our Blessed one had threatened with the wrath of God those who would dare to profane feast days by working: a young girl, having gone to work in the fields despite his threats, felt herself seized by violent pains in her bowels, as if an invisible fire had consumed her internally, and she began to cry: "I am burning, I am burning!" Her companions carried her under a tree, and having left her there for an instant alone to go and retrieve the objects that had remained in the middle of the field, they were frightened upon returning to find her black as a coal and lifeless. Everyone saw there a punishment from God; they conceived a higher idea of Leonard and resolved to faithfully observe everything he commanded. As for him, he was far from glorifying himself for these prodigies: he believed himself unworthy of his ministry; thus he regarded as a harsh trial what happened to him in the diocese of Orte, where the venerable Tenderini was bishop. After his sermon for the opening of the mission that he was to give in Orte, the man of God was led with his companions to the episcopal palace, which was assigned to him for lodging. Upon entering, he found, prepared in a hall, a seat, a basin filled with hot water, and everything necessary to wash his feet. Our Blessed one was astonished at first by all these preparations; but he was much more confused and humiliated when this venerable bishop invited him to sit, wishing to wash his feet himself. After a holy contest, the pious prelate, seeing that he could gain nothing by his prayers, ordered him, in the name of obedience, to suffer him to render him this office. At the mere word of obedience, the blessed Leonard sat down, all covered in confusion, and the humble prelate, on his knees, religiously performed his office, washing the feet first of the servant of God, then successively of his companions. This fact, which did not take long to become known, increased among the people the veneration they professed for their bishop, and disposed them to receive with more eagerness the seed of the word of God.

It is impossible for us to follow him in all his missions, to paint all his sufferings, to recount all his merits. He always went barefoot, as we have said, whatever the rigor of the season and the state of his health. People were astonished that he could resist his austerities and his labors. Cardinal Corradini, seeing him exhausted, invited him to rest. "My rest," he replied, "I neither desire nor want on earth, but I desire and want it in paradise." Such ardent zeal was moreover supported by numerous miracles. One day, while he was preaching on the holy name of Jesus, everyone saw a dove pass several times, fluttering, above and below the sounding board of the platform, and disappear, without anyone being able to say how, as soon as the sermon was finished. It was judged from this that the Holy Spirit, under this symbol, had wished to make it understood that he himself was assisting his minister and giving his words their strength and virtue. During another sermon, three marble columns that adorned the facade of the church, under which many people were located, detached themselves from their capitals; they should have, in falling, crushed several; but they remained as if suspended in the air, to the great astonishment of everyone, and therefore caused no damage.

Among the pious industries that he was accustomed to employ to help sinners, there is one that consisted simply of having the large bell rung in the evening, every day that the mission lasted: he wanted them to recite at the same time three Paters and three Aves for the most hardened. It happened one evening, as they had refused to execute this order, that the bell began to ring by itself. In another mission, a poor woman, desiring intensely to go and listen to the catechism that the missionaries were giving, left her child barely two years old in bed, and, after having recommended him to the Blessed Virgin, went to the church. Returned home, and no longer seeing the little one, she began to search for him in tears, and she recognized that he had fallen through an opening from the height of two stories, and that he had remained suspended in the air by his clothes, without doing himself any harm; which astonished all those who were witnesses to the fact or who had knowledge of it.

In Gaeta, preaching on the obstinate sinner, the Blessed one, in an extraordinarily animated tone, pronounced, against his custom, these words: "My heart tells me that there is an obstinate sinner here. If he does not return to himself, it is all over for him; this very night he will receive his punishment." Indeed, there was one in the audience who was maintaining a scandalous liaison, from which neither the admonitions nor the threats of his bishop had been able to turn him away, and which he was continuing even during the time of the mission. This wretch was supping that very evening with two ecclesiastics; while he was eating an egg, he was suddenly struck by a violent accident and fell stone dead, without either of the two priests having the time to utter the formula of absolution. He became black, distorted, hideous, and frightening to see. The whole city was deeply moved by this fatal accident; it conceived a higher idea of the missionary and took his words more than ever for so many oracles. In the sermon on the Blessed Virgin, he recommended to his listeners to forgive offenses received and to reconcile with their enemies; the major of the place who, for a long time, did not even greet his bishop, touched upon hearing the exhortation of the servant of God, immediately detached himself from the body of officers, and, in the presence of everyone, went to kiss the hand of the prelate on his throne, which drew tears of tenderness from the eyes of the bishop and the greater part of the assistants.

It happened to him sometimes to succumb from exhaustion, to faint in the middle of the sermon and to remain half-dead; but he took no account of these weaknesses: "My donkey has thrown itself to the ground," he would say, "but I will take care to punish it so that it does not think of starting again and that it holds firm on its feet." He would then put a chain around his neck, on his head a crown of thorns, take his discipline, and strike himself often until they threw themselves upon him to hold him back. Genoa, Lucca, and the island of Corsica felt the effects of this tireless zeal. In Genoa, it is believed that his audience sometimes exceeded the number of one hundred thousand people. After the mission, they erected a mound of white and black stones surmounted by three crosses and bearing for an inscription these words, often repeated by the servant of God: "My sweet Jesus, mercy!" And as he had recommended putting the names of Jesus and Mary on the doors of houses, these sacred names were put in gilded bronze letters, plated on marble, at the gate of Monte-Reale, with great pomp, to the sound of the port's cannon and the ringing of all the city's bells. In Corsica, subject to animosities and grudges, several families were divided by inveterate hatreds, which kept them constantly under arms; but upon hearing the touching exhortations of the missionary, they renounced all hostility, laid down their arms, and concluded peace. There was one of the most touching scenes: everyone wept hot tears, asked each other for forgiveness, and embraced like brothers. And what is most wonderful is that all this happened as if suddenly; those who had nurtured deadly enmities for many years not only reconciled publicly, at the voice of the Blessed one, but, moreover, wished to ratify the peace concluded by an authentic act.

Our Saint then traveled through Italy to Rome, where he preached for the Jubilee; he then retired to the convent of Saint Bonaventure. There, as if he had neglected himself while exhausting himself in the service of others, he wished in turn to attend to spiritual exercises. On the evening before his retreat, he threw himself at the knees of his superior in the common refectory to ask for his permission and blessing; and while protesting to his confreres that he was a religious in habit only, and recommending himself to the prayers of the community, he began to weep so much that his sobs stifled his voice.

One may judge by this with what recollection and profit to his soul he devoted himself to his holy exercises; thus, having subsequently gone to present himself to the Pope and being asked about the fruit he had reaped from them, he replied that this fruit consisted of an ardent desire to die soon to go and enjoy his God.

In the course of the missions he conducted thereafter, he said several times to his companions that they were his last. He hinted several times that his death was approaching. The Pope having written him a very affectionate letter to recall him to Rom Rome Birthplace of Maximian. e, he set out on his journey to obey him. This journey was very painful for him. Upon leaving Tolentino, as the mountains he had to cross were covered in snow, he endured such intense cold that, all warmth withdrawing from his limbs, he presented the appearance of a corpse. His companion having asked him how he felt, he replied twice: "I am unwell." No suffering had been able to wring this complaint from him for twenty-five years. Arriving at Foligno, he wished to say Mass; and, as the good brother begged him to refrain for this time, given that he could no longer stand on his legs, he replied in a very deeply moved tone: "My brother, one Mass is worth more than all the treasures of the world." As soon as he had crossed the gate of Rome, he said to his companion: "Intone the Te Deum, and I will respond." He did so indeed, and it was while reciting this song of thanksgiving that he arrived at the convent of Saint Bonaventure on November 26th after sunset.

They took him down from the carriage with difficulty; for he was so weak that his pulse could no longer be felt: thus it was necessary to carry him in their arms to the infirmary. Scarcely had he entered when he confessed and asked for the holy Viaticum, which was administered to him about an hour after his arrival, in the presence of the entire community. When his divine Savior entered the room, he addressed such an affectionate, such an expressive colloquy to Him, and pronounced his acts of faith, hope, and charity with such energy and feeling, that all those present were moved to tears. After remaining for some time recollected in God, he received a visit from the doctor, whom he begged not to order him to eat meat, so jealous was he of observing, until his last breath, the abstinence he had kept for so many years. The doctor found him completely without a pulse and ordered him to take a fortifying drink; he received it from the hands of the infirmarian, thanking him for his charity, and added: "Oh! If only one did as much for the soul as for the body!" After drinking, he said again: "My brother, I do not have sufficient terms to thank God for the grace He grants me to die in the midst of my confreres." The Blessed one, desiring to remain in recollection, dismissed the religious, telling them to go and rest; only the infirmarian remained near him to assist him if needed. The latter, standing outside the room, the door of which was open, was edified to hear the sick man make the most fervent acts of love, invoke the Blessed Virgin, and converse with her as if he had her present. Having then approached the bed, he saw that his face was all inflamed; he touched him and found his flesh burning. They immediately gave him Extreme Unction, which he received with the sentiments of the most perfect devotion; shortly after, having kept all his presence of mind until the end, he appeared as if surprised by a sweet sleep; and, without making any movement, he fell asleep in the Lord.

It was on Friday, November 26, 1751, a little before midnight, that he went to receive the reward for so many labors undertaken for the glory of God and for the salvation of his neighbor: he was seventy-four years, eleven months, and six days old; he had spent fifty-three years in religion and had dedicated forty-four of them to the missions. Early in the morning, in accordance with the instructions received, notice was given to the Holy Father, who, upon learning of the death of Father Leonard, said with a deep feeli ng of sorr Saint-Père Pope who beatified Jerome Emiliani. ow: "We have lost much; but we have gained a protector in heaven," and tears were seen flowing from his eyes.

He is depicted carrying a banner of the Blessed Virgin, to express the zeal he put into propagating the cult of the Mother of God.

## CULT AND RELICS. — HIS WRITINGS.

The funeral of the servant of God took place on November 28, 1751: the gathering of the people was so great that it was decided not to expose him in the church, for fear of disorder; but during the time of the Mass only, he was placed before the high altar. He was then transported from the church to the convent chapel, and he was deposited with great pomp in a coffin sealed with Spanish wax by order of His Holiness; he was buried opposite the chapel of Saint Francis. This tomb has become very famous in Italy, because of the great number of miracles that occur there. The body has escaped corruption and is perfectly preserved: one would say he had just died; he rests uncovered under the high altar. One can see in the cell where he died, and which has been transformed into a chapel, his iron discipline, his rope belt, his crucifix, and five letters written by his hand: the venerated cell is open all day on the feast of the Saint to the influx and piety of visitors. In 1796, Pope Pius VI placed him in the rank of the Blessed, and, in 1867, on the occasion of the Centenary of Saint Peter, he was solemnly canonized by Pope Pius IX.

We have from Saint Leonard: a Lent; Medit ations Pie IX Pope who canonized Josaphat in 1867. or exercises for a Retreat; a Directory and the Way of Eternity. The latter offers only a few meditations and ver y simple practices o Chemin de l'éternité A work of meditations written by the saint. f piety. All his writings are distinguished by a great warmth of feeling, by much abundance and unction of speech, and finally by a force of persuasion and a simplicity that has been called golden, which delight the reader.

Excerpt from the Life of the Saint, by the Rev. Fr. Salvator d'Ormée, of the Order of Saint Francis.