The Works of John Dryden, now first collected in eighteen volumes. Volume 16

by John Dryden

This so close and so continual an union, could only proceed from a tender chanty: the divine love burning him up in such a manner, that his face was commonly on fire; and both for his interior and outward ardour, they were often forced to throw cold water into his bosom.

Frequently in preaching and in walking, he felt in himself such inward scorching, that, not being able to endure it, he was constrained to give himself air, by opening his cassock before his breast; and this he has been seen to do on many occasions, in the public places at Malacca and at Goa, in the garden of St Paul's college, and in the sandy walks of the sea-shore.

Almost every hour, words of life and fire burst and sallied as it were from out his mouth, which were indeed the holy sparkles of a burning heart. As for example, "O most Holy Trinity! O my Creator! O my Jesus! O Jesus, the desire of my soul!" He spoke these words in Latin, that he might not be understood by the common people: and being on the coast of Fishery, at the kingdom of Travancore, and at the Moluccas, he was heard to speak so many times every day these words, O Sanctissima Trinitas! that the most idolatrous barbarians, when they found themselves in extreme dangers, or that they would express their amazement at any thing, pronounced those very words, without understanding any thing more of them than that they were holy and mysterious.

Even sleep itself had not the power to interrupt those tender aspirations; and all the night long he was heard to say, "O my Jesus, my soul's delight!" or other expressions as full of tenderness, which shewed the inclination of his heart. Being out of his senses by the violence of a burning fever, both at Mozambique and at Sancian, he spoke of God, and to God, with more fervency than ever; insomuch, that his delirium seemed only to be a redoubling of his love. He was so sensible of the interests of the Divine Majesty, that, being touched to the quick with the enormity of those crimes that were committed in the new world, he wrote to a friend of his, in these very terms:—"I have sometimes an abhorrence of my life, and would rather chuse to die than to behold so many outrages done to Jesus Christ, without being able either to hinder or to repair them."

For the rest, that he might always keep alive the fire of divine love, he had incessantly before his eyes the sufferings of our Lord. At the sight of the wounds and of the blood of a crucified God, he fell into sighs and tears, and languishments, and extasies of love. He was consumed with the zeal of returning his Saviour life for life; for martyrdom was his predominant passion, and his sentiments are a continual proof of it. "It sometimes happens, through a singular favour of the Divine Goodness," says he in one of his letters, "that for the service of God we run ourselves into the hazard of death. But we ought to bear in mind, that we are born mortal; and that a Christian is bound to desire nothing more than to lay down his life for Jesus Christ."

From thence proceeded that abundant joy which he conceived, when the faithful poured out their blood for faith; and he wrote to the Fathers at Rome, on occasion of the massacre of the baptized Manarois;—"We are obliged to rejoice in Jesus Christ, that martyrs are not wanting, not even in our decaying times; and to give Him thanks, that, seeing so few persons make the right use of His grace for their salvation, He permits that the number of the happy shall be completed through the cruelty of men." "Admirable news," says he elsewhere, "is lately come from the Moluccas; they who labour there in the Lord's vineyard suffer exceedingly, and are in continual hazard of their lives I imagine that the Isles del Moro will give many martyrs to our Society, and they will soon be called the Isles of Martyrdom. Let our brethren then, who desire to shed their blood for Jesus Christ, be of good courage, and anticipate their future joy. For, behold at length a seminary of martyrdom is ready for them, and they will have wherewithal to satisfy their longings."

The same love which inspired him with the desire of dying for our Saviour, made him breathe after the sight and the possession of God. He spoke not but of paradise, and concluded almost all his letters with wishing there to meet his brethren.

But his charity was not confined to words and thoughts,—it shone out in his works and actions, and extended itself to the service of his neighbour. Xavier seemed to be only born for the relief of the distressed; he loved the sick with tenderness, and to attend them was what he called his pleasure: he sought out not only wherewithal to feed them but to feast them; and for that purpose begged from the Portuguese the most exquisite regalios, which were sent them out of Europe. He was not ashamed of going round the town with, a wallet on his back, begging linen for the wounded soldiers; he dressed their hurts, and did it with so much the more affection, when they were the most putrified and loathsome to the smell. If he happened to meet with any beggar who was sinking under sickness, he took him in his arms, bore him to the hospital, prepared his remedies, and dressed his meat with his own hands.

Though all the miserable were dear to him, yet he assisted the prisoners after a more particular manner, with the charities which he gathered for them; and in Goa, which was the common tribunal of the Indies, he employed one day in the week in doing good to such who were overwhelmed with debts. If he had not wherewithal to pay off their creditors entirely, he mollified them at least with his civilities, and obliged them sometimes to release one moiety of what was owing to them.

The poor, with one common voice, called him their Father, and he also regarded them as his children. Nothing was given him, but what passed through his hands into theirs, who were members of Jesus Christ; even so far as to deprive himself of necessaries. He heaped up, as I may call it, a treasury of alms, not only for the subsistence of the meaner sort, who are content with little, but for the maintenance of honourable families, which one or two shipwrecks had ruined all at once; and for the entertainment of many virgins of good parentage, whom poverty might necessitate to an infamous course of living.