The doctor and apostle of prayer. St. Alphonsus - 12

When Alphonsus found himself once more in the bosom of his Congregation at Nocera, his chief aim was to return with new ardour to all the practices of his religious life. That beloved poverty, which had been the chief ornament of his episcopal palace, was also the sole decoration of the two little rooms which were to be his final dwelling-place. Loving God alone he cared for nothing else; whatever savoured of the world was hateful to him. Now that he was free from the heavy duties of the episcopate, he spent the greater part of his time in spiritual reading, and in holy contemplation, especially in presence of the Blessed Sacrament; for this Divine Mystery exercised over him a kind of holy violence, so that he would spend long hours in presence of his Sacramental Lord. The rest of his time was occupied either in directing his Congregation, or in writing new books; for advancing years seemed to increase rather than diminish his zeal for souls, and even in his extreme old age he published numerous works.

His retirement from the episcopate did not in any way quench the zeal of this holy man for converting and sanctifying others and for preaching the Word of God. He was never forgetful of the vow he had taken in honour of the Mother of God; and every Saturday he discoursed to the people on the glories of the Blessed Virgin. "He left nothing undone," says his biographer, Father Tannoia, "that might increase devotion to this Divine Mother, and to Jesus hidden in the Sacrament of His love." At this time, also, afflicted by the grievous ruin that was being worked by the writings of Voltaire, he wrote to Father Nonnotte, begging him not to desist from his vigorous confutation of these impious writings, since their author was the scourge and pest of the human race. Hearing that Voltaire had been converted, he wrote him a letter of congratulation, but did not send it since he found out that the report of his conversion was untrue. In a word, though broken down by age and infirmities, Alphonsus seemed once more to have returned to the vigour of youth, and applied himself without intermission to whatever he thought might be of advantage to the Church or promote the salvation of souls.

But whilst the saintly old man was thus giving vent to the final impulses of his zeal, a terrible and unexpected storm was about to discharge its fury upon him. This tempest was, doubtless, permitted by God, in order that Alphonsus might present to his children an example of patience as admirable as that of holy Job. We will relate in few words this painful history. The Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer had, from its very commencement, to sustain the most determined opposition. Its enemies were neither few in number nor wanting in ability and influence, and if the little flock was not dispersed, it was owing to the special protection of Heaven. The Marquis Tannucci, Prime Minister of the King of Naples, was a bitter enemy of the Church and Religious Orders, but happily for the Congregation, he resigned his office, and was succeeded by the Marquis della Sambuca. The new Minister had a great esteem for Alphonsus, and thus happier days seemed about to dawn upon the rising Institute.

Since by the resignation of Tannucci the most powerful enemy of the Congregation was removed, Alphonsus thought he had no longer to fear the suppression of his houses, and that he could now establish his Institute on a permanent footing. Relying on the good-will of the Minister, della Sambuca, he determined to make every effort to attain this desirable end; and having taken the advice of the principal members of his Congregation, he sent Father Majone to Naples to treat with the Government for the approbation of his Institute. Who would ever believe that this father, after having been entrusted with so sacred a duty, betrayed the confidence placed in him, and acted the part of a traitor? Yet so it was. In order to obtain the royal approbation with greater facility, he did not shrink from making changes of the greatest importance in the rules, and this on his own responsibility, and although these rules had been solemnly confirmed by the Supreme Pontiff. He then presented the rules thus altered for the approbation of the King. Although Majone acted in this matter with the greatest secrecy and caution, yet he could not prevent some suspicion of the plot from entering the minds of certain of the fathers. They, in great anxiety, applied to Alphonsus, begging him to be on his guard against the plots of his representative. But the holy old man could not believe Majone would be guilty of such perfidy, and he was all the more unsuspicious because he had been deceived in this matter by Father Villani, who was both his confessor and his Vicar-General. Father Majone had sent to the holy founder a copy of the new rule, which he had composed with the help of one of the King's chaplains; but this was written in such small characters that Alphonsus could not read it. He gave it, therefore, to Father Villani, who read it through; and fearing to grieve Alphonsus if he revealed the treachery, unwisely concealed it, and contented himself with saying that all was right. Thus it happened that Alphonsus believed that the anxiety of the Fathers was simply the work of the devil, and he did all in his power to allay their suspicions, which he imagined were entirely without foundation. But at length the treachery was revealed.

Meantime, joyful news was sent to Nocera by Father Majone, and Alphonsus now fondly hoped that he had arrived at the summit of his wishes. On the very day on which the mutilated rule reached Nocera—which was the 27th of February, 1780—as he was talking with some Fathers who were spending the evening recreation with him, he said that the rule would be received on Good Friday, and since it was on that day Jesus Christ shed His Blood for them, they ought also again to sacrifice themselves for Him. "Yes," said they; "but we must first read through the rule and examine it well." But when the rule had been read, they saw with indignation what extraordinary changes had been made in it. The greatest consternation spread amongst the Fathers, and before daybreak all hurried to Alphonsus informing him of the changes that had been made, and demanding that justice should be done to them. The holy old man was stupefied with astonishment. He read through the mutilated rule, and then exclaimed with floods of tears: "It is impossible; it cannot be." Then, turning to Father Villani, he said,reproachfully: "I did not think, Father Andrew, that you would have deceived me." Afterwards addressing the community, he said with tears: "I deserve to be dragged at the horse's tail, for I ought to have read these rules myself, since I am Superior." Then, weeping bitterly, he fixed his eyes upon the crucifix: "My Jesus," he exclaimed, "it was my confessor in whom I trusted, and in whom could I have more safely confided? You know," said he, addressing the assembled Fathers, "how difficult it is for me to read even a single line." Then his tears and sobs completely choked his utterance, and he could only exclaim from time to time: "I have been deceived; I have been deceived." He then remained silent, as though he had lost his senses, and for the whole morning he remained in a state of the deepest dejection, his appearance being so altered that he seemed to be a spectre rather than a man. It was with difficulty he could be made to taste food, and what he ate was moistened with his tears. His grief became so terrible that for several days and nights he was unable to sleep, and great fears were entertained for his life.

When it got abroad that the rule had been mutilated, all the houses of the Institute were at once in a state of commotion. In order to restore peace, if possible, Alphonsus convoked a general assembly of the Fathers on May 12, 1780; but it failed entirely to secure the desired effect. Amongst the fathers assembled was one named Leggio, a man of turbulent spirit, and crafty in the extreme. This individual, concealing his abominable perfidy under the appearance of zeal, raised the standard of rebellion, and alleging the mutilation of the rule as an excuse for leaving Alphonsus, he repaired to Rome. There he succeeded in gaining the favour of the Pope, and by means of the calumnious charges which he brought against Alphonsus, he succeeded in breaking up the Congregation into two distinct parts. And that nothing might be wanting to fill up the measure of Alphonsus' sufferings, God permitted Pius VI to be deceived, and a Papal decree was issued ordering the houses in the Pontifical States to be severed from those in the Kingdom of Naples, and declaring Alphonsus and the Neapolitan Fathers to be excluded from the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer, and incapable of using the privileges granted to it. Hence it followed that many of the Neapolitan Fathers left their own houses, and withdrew into those in the States of the Church. Thus was the heart of the holy founder pierced with a sword of indescribable anguish. It was, indeed, a strange sight to see Alphonsus, the ardent defender of the Holy See, disgraced by the Pope himself, and driven from the Institute which he had founded with so much labour. But all this was permitted by God in order to effect a more complete resemblance between Alphonsus and his beloved Lord, Who on earth was the most despised and abject of men. Alphonsus had himself predicted this grievous humiliation; for, talking one day with some of his fathers, who feared he might die of a severe illness which had confined him to his bed: "Do not be afraid," said he, "I shall not die yet. God wills that I should die as a subject, not as Superior."