Orsola's speciality, however, were those frequent trance-like conditions
by reason of which, during her lifetime, she was created "Protectress of
the City of Naples." I cannot tell whether she was the first woman-saint
to obtain this honour. Certainly the "Seven Holy Protectors" concerning
whom Paolo Regio writes were all musty old males. . . .
And here is quite another biography, that of Alfonso di Liguori (born
1696), the founder of the Redemptorist order and a canonized saint. He,
too, could fly a little and raise the dead to life; he suffered
devil-temptations, caused the clouds to rain, calmed an eruption of
Vesuvius, multiplied food, and so forth. Such was his bashfulness, that
even as an aged bishop he refused to be unrobed by his attendants; such
his instinct for moral cleanliness that once, when a messenger had
alighted at his convent accompanied by a soldier, he instantly detected,
under the military disguise, the lineaments of a young woman-friend.
Despite these divine gifts, he always needed a confessor. An enormous
batch of miracles accompanied his sanctification.
But he only employed these divine graces by the way; he was by
profession not a taumaturgo, but a clerical instructor, organizer,
and writer. The Vatican has conferred on him the rare title of "Doctor
Ecclesia," which he shares with Saint Augustine and some others.
The biography from which I have drawn these details was printed in Rome
in 1839. It is valuable because it is modern and so far authentic; and
for two other reasons. In the first place, curiously enough, it barely
mentions the saint's life-work - his writings. Secondly, it is a good
example of what I call the pious palimpsest. It is over-scored with
contradictory matter. The author, for example, while accidentally
informing us that Alfonso kept a carriage, imputes to him a degrading,
Oriental love of dirt and tattered garments, in order (I presume) to
make his character conform to the grosser ideals of the mendicant
friars. I do not believe in these traits - in his hatred of soap and
clean apparel. From his works I deduce a different original. He was
refined and urbane; of a casuistical and prying disposition; like many
sensitive men, unduly preoccupied with the sexual life of youth; like a
true feudal aristocrat, ever ready to apply force where verbal
admonition proved unavailing. . . .
In wonder-working capacities these saints were all put in the shade by
the Calabrian Francesco di Paola, who raised fifteen persons from the
dead in his boyhood. He used to perform a hundred miracles a day, and
"it was a miracle, when a day passed without a miracle." The index alone
of any one of his numerous biographies is enough to make one's head swim.
The vast majority of saints of this period do not belong to that third
sex after which, according to some, the human race has ever striven - the
constructive and purposeful third sex.
