FOR GREATER THINGS_ The story of Saint Stanislaus(圣·斯坦斯洛斯·科斯卡传)

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FOR GREATER THINGS: The story of Saint Stanislaus Kostka

FOR GREATER

THINGS: The story of

Saint Stanislaus Kostka

by William T. Kane, S.J.

PREFACE

Among Christian evidences the heroic virtue and holiness of Catholic

youth must not be overlooked. Juvenile and adolescent victories of a

conspicuous kind, over the flesh, the world, and the devil, can be found in

no land and in no age, except a Christian land and age, and in no Church

except the Catholic Church. It is of all excellences the very rarest and most

difficult, this triumphant mastery over human weakness and human pride.

It has defied the life-long strivings of men whom the world recognizes as

beings of superior wisdom and power of will. The philosophers who have

described it most beautifully and encouraged its pursuit in the most

glowing and impressive terms remain themselves sad examples of human

futility in the struggle to disengage the spirit from the claws of dragging

and unclean influences. For the forces of evil are infinite in their variety,

insidious beyond the ability of natural sharpness to detect and guard

against, and unsleeping in the pressure of their siege upon the heart of man.

Who will explain how it comes to pass that youth, whose callowness and

inexperience are the mockery of the world, has laid prostrate in single

combat this giant of evil and won fields where the reputations of the

world's wisest and noblest and most tried lie buried?

It is a matter of idle curiosity with us how an unbelieving generation,

ingenious in devising natural explanations (which are most unnatural) of

FOR GREATER THINGS: The story of Saint Stanislaus Kostka

supernatural phenomena, would explain away the wonder of the young

Saint's life which is the subject of the following pages. It presents to us a

picture of Divine Condescension guiding and inspiring and aiding human

effort, so convincingly clear and transparent in its smallest details and in

its general effect as to seem outside the pale of all possible mutilation and

misinterpretation by malice or skeptical analysis. Natural reaction against

sinful excess, thwarted ambitions, disappointed hopes, meek conformity

with environment, ecclesiastical manipulation of pliant material, tame

acquiescence in family traditions and arrangements, these and all the other

stock "explanations," with which a groveling world seeks to pull down the

Saints to its own dreary level, cannot be invoked to dissipate the mystery

and the glory surrounding Stanislaus. How did he come so early in life,

and in a nobleman's family, to set such store upon spiritual values? How

did his tender and immature mind grasp with such swift sureness the one

lesson of all philosophies, that life on its material side is an incident rather

than the sum of human existence and can never satisfy the soul's desires ?

How could this mere boy have developed, so young, an iron will which

wrought that hardest of all laborious tasks, namely, the conformation of

conduct with lofty ideals? There are supernatural answers to these and

similar questions which might be raised concerning the brief career of St.

Stanislaus. We know of no merely natural answers.

The lively and energetic style adopted in the present biography may

create a trace of mild surprise in older readers. Sanctity, it is true, some

one may say, is a very beautiful achievement in a world of poor and, at

best, mediocre performance; but, after all, the business of sanctity is a

serious business. It calls for grit and endurance, and, as a picture, is only

saved from the sordid by spiritual motives which are unseen. If all moral

life is a monotonous warfare, the life of a Saint is warfare in the very first

ranks where the trenches are filled with water and the shells fall thickest

and the general discomfort and pettiness are at their maximum. It is

misleading and not in strict accord with known realities, to paint the

portrait of a Saint in rose color and sunlight, diffusing an iridescent

atmosphere of cheerful gayety and buoyancy.

The criticism is not without some foundation; but youthful readers will

FOR GREATER THINGS: The story of Saint Stanislaus Kostka

not adopt it. For youth is generous, and age is crabbed. And because Saints

never become crabbed we are right in concluding that they always remain

youthful. And, to draw out our conclusion, the lives of Saints, contrary to

the popular belief, are much more interesting to the child than they are to

the man. It is a pity that Catholic parents do not recognize this outstanding

truth. No Saint's life is dull to the average intelligent child. Grown-ups are

dull: they never yield to sublime impulses: they measure, calculate,

practice a hard-and-fast moderation, reduce the splendid possibilities of

life to a drab level of safe actuality, and pursue ideals at a canny and

cautious pace. Not so the Saints. They always retained the freshness and

confidence and generous impulses of childhood. If God spoke to their

inner ear and bade them leap boldly forth into His Infinite Arms, spurning

irretrievably the solid footing of our spinning globe, without hesitation or

question they took the leap. And every child can see the wisdom of it. To

the child it is common sense: to his elders it is inspired heroism or

unintelligible hardihood. We have always entertained a deep- seated

suspicion that there is no child who does not think it easy to be a Saint, so

native is sanctity to Catholic childhood. Cardinal Newman, we believe,

exhorted us all to make our sacrifices for God while we are young before

the calculating selfishness of old age gets hold of us.

Still it may not be quite clear to the inquiring mind why the desperate

difficulties of sainthood can be truthfully viewed in the light of a

breathless adventure. Learn, then, the great secret. The love of God in the

heart is the magical light which touches the dreariness and hardship of

self-thwarting with a splendor of sublime Romance. You cannot have

holiness without love. Holiness can be either greater nor less than the love

of God. Let this love faint or grow cold, there is at once a loss of holiness,

even though it retain all its external gear. This is a cardinal truth; it is a key

which will solve many a puzzle. It will explain why fanatics and similar

oddities are not Saints, though secular history sometimes honors them

with the title.

Merely concede that the Saint possesses love for God in an

extraordinary measure and degree, and it is the most comprehensible thing

in the world that he will not only accept all tests of his love readily, but

FOR GREATER THINGS: The story of Saint Stanislaus Kostka

will go forth in search of them with eager alacrity. First and last and

always the only keen satisfaction of great love, whether human or divine,

is to welcome opportunities of proving itself in some heroic form of

courage and endurance. Danger, suffering, battling against odds,

discouragement, overwork, pain of mind and body, failure, want of

recognition, rebuffs, contempt and persecution, are no longer the subject

matter of a strong-jawed stoicism or a submissive patience but rather the

quickening bread and wine of an intense and high-keyed life. This is why

the Saints, be the provocation ever so great, never develop nerves, or

experience those melancholy and humiliating reactions which are the

natural ebb-tide of spiritual energies. This is why Saints can fast and keep

their temper sweet, can wear hair-shirts without cultivating wry faces, can

be passed by in the distribution of honors without being soured, can pray

all night without robbing the day of its due meed of cheerfulness, can rise

superior to frailties and weaknesses without despising those who cannot,

can be serious without being testy and morose, can live for years in a cell

or a desert or a convent-close without perishing of ennui or being

devoured by restlessness, and can mingle with life, where all its currents

meet, without losing their heads or swerving a hairbreadth from the

straight line of a most uncommon and most impressive kind of common

sense.

Unless we keep before our eyes this mainspring of a Saint's life, that

life will be as enigmatical to us as it is to the world. Jesus balked at no test

of the love which He bore towards us: nay, He devised tests passing all

human imagining. Let Him make trial of our love for Him! We are

unhappy till He does! And with this daring spirit in his heart every Saint

enters upon a career of Romance in its sweetest and highest form. And, we

submit, to recur to the literary style of the following biography, Romance

is light-hearted, light-stepping, cheerful, with the starlight on its face and

in its eyes.

James J. Daly, S.J.

FOR GREATER THINGS: The story of Saint Stanislaus Kostka

CHAPTER I

ON THE ROAD

Mid-August in Vienna, the year 1567: when Shakespeare was still a

little boy; twenty years before Philip II fitted out the Spanish Armada;

forty years before the first English colony settled in America. The sun had

just well risen, the gates of Vienna had been opened but a few hours.

Through the great western gate, which cast its long shadow on the road to

Augsburg, came a strange-looking boy.

He lacked but a month or two of seventeen years, was some five feet

two or three inches in height, had an oval face of remarkable beauty and

liveliness, jet black hair, and eyes in which merriment dwelt as in its home.

He was dressed as became a noble of the time, and in apparel of unusual

splendor and costliness; plumed bonnet, slashed velvet doublet, tight

silken hose, jeweled dagger at his girdle.

But it was odd to see so brilliant a figure on foot in the dusty highway;

still more odd that be carried a rough bundle slung on a staff over his and

that, peasant fashion, he munched at a loaf of bread as he trudged the road.

By no means stalwart-looking, still he swung along with an easy stride

and a confident strength that many a stouter man might envy. He was

bound for Augsburg, 400 miles to the west, and he set himself thirty miles

a day as his rate of travel.

He wore splendid clothes, because he was Stanislaus, the son of John

Kostka, Lord of Kostkov, Senator, and Castellan of Zakroczym in the

Duchy of Mazovia, Poland. He ate his rough breakfast, like a peasant, on

the road, because he had just been to Mass and received Holy Communion

at the Jesuit church in Vienna. He carried a bundle on his staff, because he

laughed merrily at fine clothes and had in the bundle a coarse tunic and a

stout pair of brogans, which he meant to put on as soon as he got well out

of the city. And his face and his eyes shone with joy, because he loved

God most wonderfully and was as happy a boy as ever moved through this

dull world.

Every age has its adventurers: men who for fame, or for place, or for

money, cross wide seas, fight brave battles, endure great hardships. The

FOR GREATER THINGS: The story of Saint Stanislaus Kostka

age in which Stanislaus lived was filled with them. All the world reads

with delight the story of such men. And every decent boy who reads feels

himself, if only for the moment, their fellow in spirit, eager to do what

they did and as bravely as they did.

But was there ever adventure finer than this, ever spirit more gayly

daring? Stanislaus Kostka, son of a noble house, a boy in years, starting

without a copper in his pocket to cross half of Europe afoot! And for what?

Not to have men say what a brave chap he was; not to win a name, or rank,

or money: but because God would be pleased by his doing it, because God

called him to do something which he could not do in Vienna.

He felt he had a vocation to be a Jesuit. He knew his father would not

consent. He took six months to think it over, to pray for light, to make sure

it was no mere whim or fancy of his own, but the very voice of God. And

when he felt sure, he left a letter for his brother Paul and his tutor, Bilinski,

with whom he had been studying in Vienna; he gave his money to a couple

of beggars; he said, "If God wants me to do this, He'll furnish the means";

he put on his best attire, tied up a rough suit in a cloth, took a stout staff in

his hand, and with God's blessing upon him and His Eucharistic Presence

in his heart, stepped out cheerfully on a journey that would stagger most

men.

That is the stuff of which heroes are made. If Stanislaus had done this

for the glory of the world, we should have his praises in our histories, we

should have stories woven about him, the whole world would cry "Bravo!"

But he did it for God, and the world cannot understand him at all: the

world is silent.

An hour or so of that steady, tireless stride carried him well away from

Vienna. He slipped off his velvet and silk, put on his coarse tunic - a shirt-

like garment that came below his knees - girded himself with a bit of rope,

tied his stout shoes on his feet, and took the road again. There were folk

aplenty journeying from the countryside to Vienna in the early morning.

Stanislaus picked out one of the poorest-looking peasants and handed him

the gala dress he had just taken off.

"I can't carry these with me, friend," he said. "Won't you please take

them? I have no use for them, and perhaps you can sell them in the city."

FOR GREATER THINGS: The story of Saint Stanislaus Kostka

And he was gone before the peasant, gaping in wonder at the rich

garments and dagger in his hands, could much more than catch a glimpse

of that bright face and those laughing eyes.

He tramped all day, and made his thirty miles. When he was hungry,

he asked some one he met for food. It is not likely that any one would

refuse the smiling, handsome boy, from whose face innocence simply

shone. But if any one had refused him, it would not have annoyed

Stanislaus. His good humor came from heaven, as well as from his own

cheery soul - and you cannot rebuff that kind of good humor.

Night came down at last, and he was tired out. He came to an inn and

asked for shelter.

"I have no money," he told the landlord, smiling, "and I have no claim

upon you. Will you take me in?"

The landlord looked at him shrewdly a little, then said with respect:

"But what is your grace doing in such a garb?"

Stanislaus thought for a moment that he was recognized; but he put on

a bold front, and laughed as he said:

"I am not 'your grace. I am what you see me, and I have a long journey

to make."

In those days it was not unusual for even nobles to go, roughly clad,

upon pilgrimages of devotion. That Stanislaus was a noble, the landlord

was quite certain. That he might be engaged on some such pious business,

was possible. But who ever heard of a mere boy going upon pilgrimage?

The whole affair puzzled the landlord more than a little. However, the

face of the boy reassured him. At least there could be no evil behind that

frank, brave countenance. So he shook his head, saying:

"I do not understand. But come in. You are welcome."

He gave Stanislaus his supper and a bed to sleep in.

"You shall not be the poorer for this," said Stanislaus, as he thanked

him. "You know God makes it up to us for even a cup of cold water given

in His name."

And as the boy spoke, the landlord saw his face glow when he spoke

of God and he was very glad at heart that he had given shelter and food, to

this strange boy.

FOR GREATER THINGS: The story of Saint Stanislaus Kostka

Stanislaus slept soundly. But he was up with the sun, washed and

dressed quickly, and went to thank his host again before setting out.

"But you will have something to eat before you go?" cried the man, as

Stanislaus stood before him, staff in hand, ready for the road.

"It is good of you to offer it," the boy answered. "But perhaps I shall

find a church before long, and I must go fasting to Holy Communion."

Then the landlord marvelled again, for at that period even good people

did not go very often to Holy Communion, especially when they were

traveling hard, as Stanislaus evidently was. And his admiration and liking

grew for this boy with the merry face and the heart so near heaven.

"At least," he said, "you must take something with you for the way."

And that Stanislaus did not refuse, but accepted gratefully, and so

parted from the kind landlord, leaving him gazing in the doorway with

wonder in his eyes.

His legs were a bit stiff and sore this second day. But the first few

miles wore that off, and he swung on his way as bravely and gayly as

before.

FOR GREATER THINGS: The story of Saint Stanislaus Kostka

CHAPTER II

THE PURSUIT

Meanwhile, there was a hubbub in Vienna. Stanislaus had lived in that

city about three years with his brother Paul, who was about a year older

than he, and in the care of a tutor, a young man named Bilinski. He had

left them in the early morning. As the day wore on and he did not return

home, they became uneasy. They went about all afternoon, inquiring

amongst their friends and acquaintance if any had seen him. Only one or

two were in the secret, and they kept discreet silence. Unable therefore to

get any trace of Stanislaus, they soon came to the conclusion that he had

fled. And, as we shall see, they had good reason in their own hearts for

guessing that from the first. They returned to the house of the Senator

Kimberker, where they were all lodging, and taking Kimberker, who was a

Lutheran, into their confidence, they held a council of war.

It was decided that Stanislaus must have gone to Augsburg. Paul

recalled something that Stanislaus had said to him only the day before,

when he had threatened plainly to run away. And they had heard him say,

another time, that at Augsburg was Peter Canisius, the Provincial of the

German Jesuits. Of course they were going to follow him and bring him

back. But night had come on before their inquiries and deliberations were

finished. They must wait till the next day.

Accordingly, bright and early the following morning, all three, with

one of the Kostkas' servants, drove out in a carriage over the Augsburg

road. They had four good horses and they told their coachman not to spare

the whip. They came to the inn where Stanislaus had spent the night. They

questioned the landlord.

"Have you seen a boy of seventeen, a Polish noble, pass westward

along this road yesterday or today?"

But the landlord was shrewd, and though the whole matter was beyond

him, he fancied somehow that these eager folk were no great friends of the

boy who had lodged with him. And as he trusted that boy and could

scarcely help being loyal to him, he shrugged his shoulders and answered:

"How should I know? So many travel this road."

FOR GREATER THINGS: The story of Saint Stanislaus Kostka

Then Bilinski described Stanislaus and his doublet of velvet and hose

of silk and jeweled dagger. But at that the landlord shook his head in

denial.

"I have seen no such person as your graces describe," he said.

Bilinski called out to the coachman:

"Drive on. We have nothing to learn here."

But Paul said: "NQ let us turn back. He cannot have walked this far in

one day. We must have passed him on the road."

"Perhaps you could not have walked so far," said Bilinski, with a sneer.

"But Stanislaus could. Drive on!"

Forty miles or more out of Vienna, they saw a boy trudging ahead of

them, in a rough tunic, rope-girdled, with a staff in his hand. At the noise

of the hurrying wheels the boy glanced back, then quickly turned up a lane

which there entered the road. He did not look in the least like a nobleman's

son, and the carriage passed the bottom of the lane without so much as

slacking speed.

Stanislaus ran up the lane until he came to where it ended at a rough,

brawling stream. Without a moment's hesitation he put off his shoes,

tucked up his tunic, and began wading in the course of the stream. The

water was cold, the sharp stones in the bed of the stream bruised his feet,

at any moment he might fall into a deep hole and be drowned. But he

splashed and stumbled ahead, as fast as he could go, praying to his

guardian angel to have care of him. A little farther, he knew, the highway

crossed this stream by a bridge, and there he could leave the water and

regain the road.

The carriage meantime kept on and came to this bridge. But Paul had

been thinking of the young fellow who took to the lane when he saw the

carriage approach and a shrewd suspicion came into his head.

"Did you see that boy who ran up the lane?" he cried at length to

Bilinski. "I believe it was Stanislaus."

"But he was dressed like a peasant," said Bilinski. "And Stanislaus had

on a handsome suit."

They debated for a time, but Paul prevailed. Round they turned and

drove furiously back to the lane. But as the driver tried to turn his horses

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FORGREATERTHINGS:ThestoryofSaintStanislausKostka1FORGREATERTHINGS:ThestoryofSaintStanislausKostkabyWilliamT.Kane,S.J.PREFACEAmongChristianevidencestheheroicvirtueandholinessofCatholicyouthmustnotbeoverlooked.Juvenileandadolescentvictoriesofaconspicuouskind,overtheflesh,theworld,andthedevil,canbefoun...

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FOR GREATER THINGS_ The story of Saint Stanislaus(圣·斯坦斯洛斯·科斯卡传)

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