avier is perhaps among the latest
also, whose renown for sanctity, and the powers attending it, appears to
have been extensive even while he was yet alive.[15] Above all, he was
of the order of Jesuits, and the very saint to whom Mary of Este had
addressed her vows, in hopes to secure a Catholic successor to the
throne of England.[16] It was, therefore, natural enough, that Dryden
should have employed himself in translating the life of a saint, whose
virtues must at that time have appeared so peculiarly meritorious; whose
praises were so acceptable to his patroness; and whose miracles were
wrought for the credit of the Catholic Church, within so late a period,
besides, the work had been composed by Bartoli, in Portuguese; and by
Bouhours, in French. With the merits of the latter we are well
acquainted; of the former, Dryden speaks highly in the dedication. It
may perhaps be more surprising, that the present editor should have
retained this translation, than that Dryden should have undertaken it.
But surely the only work of this very particular and enthusiastic
nature, which the modern English language has to exhibit, was worthy of
preservation, were it but as a curiosity. The creed and the character of
Catholic faith are now so much forgotten among us (popularly speaking),
that, in reading the "Life of Xavier," the Protestant finds himself in a
new and enchanted land. The motives, and the incidents and the
doctrines, are alike new to him, and, indeed, occasionally form a
strange contrast among themselves. There are few who can read, without a
sentiment of admiration, the heroic devotion with which, from the
highest principle of duty, Xavier exposes himself to hardship, to
danger, to death itself, that he may win souls to the Christian faith.
The most rigid Protestant, and the most indifferent philosopher, cannot
deny to him the courage and patience of a martyr, with the good sense,
resolution, ready wit, and address of the best negotiator, that ever
went upon a temporal embassy. It is well that our admiration is
qualified by narrations so monstrous, as his actually restoring the dead
to life;[17] so profane, as the inference concerning the sweating
crucifix;[18] so trivial and absurd, as a crab's fishing up the saint's
cross, which had fallen into the sea; and,[19] to conclude, so shocking
to humanity, as the account of the saint passing by the house of his
ancestors, the abode of his aged mother, on his road to leave Eur