The reader has been able to form some idea of the sanctity of the servant of God, both from the letters we have transcribed, and the testimony of enlightened priests, who knew him intimately and for a con­siderable length of time. But, as we wish to give here a slight sketch of his virtues, we will add that our holy missionary was endowed, in the highest degree, with all the theological and moral virtues, the as­semblage of which constitutes those great saints who have so brightly adorned the Church of God.

With regard to faith, he possessed it in so high a degree, and had received from God so much light, that he would willingly have given his life to enkindle it in the hearts of those who were, unfortunately, in doubt, or who were ignorant of the divine mysteries. He did not think himself worthy of martyrdom, but his heart burned with the desire of suffering it, by dying for the defence of religion in some obscure cor­ner of the world. With what zeal did we not see him, in Rome, preach the truths of faith in those unhappy days, when the sovereign pontiff, Pius VII., having been expelled from his Apostolic see, the holy city witnessed within her walls the ravages of error, heresy and unbelief, propagated by wicked men who, by their words as well as by their infamous writings, professed to believe nothing themselves and sought only to pervert others. Father De Andreis im­mediately endeavored to counteract their efforts by invincible arguments, whereby he cautioned his auditors against these erroneous doctrines ; and he composed an excellent catechism, in which the truths of faith were clearly demonstrated. For no other end than the greater extension of the faith, Father De Andreis entirely re­nounced his country, his parents, his favorite studies, all his holy employments, even Rome itself, so dear to his heart, and started for North America where he knew that thousands of his fellow creatures were deprived of the light of the gospel, and consequently immersed in the shadows of death. And how great was the zeal which devoured him, when at length, in the midst of innumerable dangers, he arrived among those savage nations, and saw them with his own eyes, living almost like the animals of their native forests. We may truly say, that his heart throbbed with sorrow and tenderness, like that of St. Paul, who on his entrance into the Areopagus perceived that the Athenians were no less superstiti­ous than the most idolatrous barbarians.

The ardor of the servant of God was such, only because of the extraordinary gifts with which God had so profusely en­dotved him. “The lights which I receive,” says he in his private memoirs, “are so numerous, vivid and extensive, the senti­ments and emotions which I experience so certain, although interrupted, that I can truly say, that I scarcely ever have need of faith in order to believe, because I not only clearly perceive the things of faith, but seem to touch them. Our Lord vouch­safes to act thus with me on account of my extreme weakness, knowing that with faith alone I should have done no good. I must then in consideration of all this,

“1. Think much less of myself than of those who proceed onward by the guidance of faith alone, without these extraordinary aids.

“2. I must renounce all this, and trust to faith alone ; for what,” adds the servant of God, “is all human and even angelic knowledge in comparison to the divine in­spirations of faith? This is a sun whose splendor eclipses all minor luminaries, and prevents their brightness from being seen. 0 how wise it is to rely entirely on faith, and to despise thoroughly all the uncertain opinions and researches of human know­ledge! The animal man perceives not the invisible government of God, who orders and prepares all thingwith admirable economy, only discernibleNto the eye of faith. And, 0 what a spectacle is this, for one who is capable of admiring its gran­deur I What peace and contentment does it not produce amid the vicissitudes of life, the various civil and political commotions which agitate kingdoms, cities and families! What joy it is to know that all is arranged by God, for his greater glory and the good of his elect !”

Such was his hope of eternal salvation through the merits of Jesus Christ, that he appeared to have a certain foresight of his future happiness in heaven. Thence pro­ceeded his reluctance to linger still on earth, where, to use his own words, he did not wish to see even his shadow; that com­plete detachment, which he felt from all creatures and his indifference to the honors and praises which he received from men ; his ardent desire to accelerate, indeed it might be said to consummate, the sacrifice of his life, that he might ascend to heaven and there contemplate the wisdom, truth, and glory of God ; thence, in a word, pro­ceeded those interior emotions which at­tracted even his bodily senses to the in­effable beauties of his Creator and Last End.

This hope became an absolute reliance on God, and a total abandonment of every­thing to him. He thus expresses his feel­ings :

“After all, I can draw but this con­clusion : all the lights and inspirations which I have received and the trials which I have experienced admirably terminate in this : that I should always, and in every­thing, abandon myself with sincere, total, and filial tenderness, into the hands of my good God, my father, my loving spouse, my life, my all ; that I may be guided as he chooses, and as it seems best to him, without seeking to know what it is to be, or when, or how it is to be ; without asking why this, or why that’ since numquid lo-testis cogitantes adjicere ad staturant vestram cubitum ‘imam? I am the property of God, I am much more his than my own, and even what I call mine, and the very faculty of speaking thus, is his. He created me in order that I might be saved, and he knows how to lead me securely to this end; he can, and will do it; while I, on the con­trary, through my ignorance and malice, neither know, nor can do anything ; I am only fit to spoil the work. What then re­mains for me to do but to abandon all to him? I know not what he requires of me, nor by what paths he desires to lead me, what are the things he expects of me, nor those he does not wish me to understand. The ways of God are most holy and just, admirable and worthy of love; but they are, in general, secret, hidden, ineffable, and incomprehensible. Secretos Dei, says St. Austin, intentos debet facere non adver­sos. I much need to adopt and reduce to practice the maxim of our holy founder, St. Vincent, who spoke thus: have a strong attraction to follow Divine Providence, step by step, without ever going before it. Con­sequently, seeing in all the holy will of God, I ought to be indifferent to every­thing, whether suffering or delights, rest or labor, to do this or that, remain in one place or go to another, treat with this per­son or with that other; acting only in ac­cordance with the manifestations of the divine will in my regard. This is to be my polar star, and I must keep the magnet of my heart ever turned towards it; so that spiritual advantages, life or death, and even eternity itself, shall be desired by me, only in as much, and in the manner that God wills them.”

“0 altitudo divitiarimsapientiae et sci­entiae Dei! How great is my blindness when I want to understand all that con­cerns me, and see whither I am led by the Lord, grieving when this is denied me ! My God ! what folly! as if nothing were to be attributed to the incomprehensibility of divine justice and the mystery of its ways! As if I ought not to trust entirely to thee ! how absurd to imagine that the helm would be better in my own hand, and to wish thee to account to me for every move that thou makest .either to the right or to the left ! What no one would think of with an earthly pilot, I too often presume to do to­wards the great guide of my soul, the Holy Spirit. It is true that the hidden judg­ments of God cause in my soul fear, and even very great fear, because I know that God could make of me a terrible example of the way in which monsters of pride and ingratitude, like myself, are punished by divine justice. But, if this fear is accom­panied, (as it should always be,) by humility and submission to the divine will, it will give rise to tender confidence which will keep my soul in peace, even in the midst of the thickest darkness and the most frightful confusion.”

Charity, the most sublime of the three theological virtues, was deeply grounded in the soul of Father De Andreis. We could not give a better proof of this assertion than by transcribing some of his own words in reference to it. “At length,” says he, “a light shone around me which dispelled my darkness, and pointed out to me, with cer­tainty, the happiness of my state, which is rapidly advancing towards its end, that of completely purifying me. [Very clearly did I understand that, instruam te in via hue qua gradieris . . . and those other words, quid mini est incod° et a te quid voila super terrain!) I saw that when I concen­trate myself wholly in God, I enjoy great light and peace. It is only when treating with my neighbor, on indifferent subjects that do not refer immediately to God, that I feel, in a manner, estranged and be­wildered; that I suffer unspeakable anguish of mind, which only those who have un­dergone similar trials can understand. It is something like what one must feel in • being plunged headlong into a fathomless abyss… All in God, for God, with God, according to the views of God, and nothing more!

“It would be delightful to dwell in some corner of the house, forgotten and as if dead, being resolved to enjoy no other com­pany than that of Jesus Christ, the sweet spouse of my soul, resigning myself com­pletely into his hands, devoting entirely to his service my tongue, mind, and heart, my body, life, time, and everything that is mine.”

During the retreat that Father De An­dreis made in 181o, he examined, with the utmost diligence, all the affections of his heart ; he thus concludes:— “It appears to me that I am, through the Divine Mercy, in this disposition, that if I knew there were in my heart a single fibre not entirely belonging to God, I would tear it out, even should it cost me my life : confirma Deus hanc voluntatem.” To this he adds: “God alone is great, to God alone be all honor and glory, God alone, and nothing else !” Again, he says, on the 3rd of November : “I have, during the past days, received from the Almighty a most admirable grace, which consists in a gentle, yet very strong desire to divest myself, once for all, of all my failings and imperfections, to clothe myself with Jesus Christ ; and I burn with divine love, in such a manner as to inflame the hearts of others I flammescat igne cari­tas accendat ardor proximos.”

Such,’as he himself describes it, was the flame ,that, day and night, consumed him. It was perceptible in his words, which had the power of moving, even to tears, the most hardened sinner. It shone upon his countenance, which, though naturally of a pallid hue, assumed a vivid glow whenever he spoke, either in public or in private, of the truths of faith or the mysteries of our holy religion. It could be seen in his abhorrence of the smallest fault, in his prayers, his zeal for his sanctification, his solicitude in forming good subjects for his Congregation ; in fine, in his unwearied anxiety to gain souls to God. All this pro­ceeded from the intensity of his love for God ; and with reference to this he wrote, May 1st, 1814, some secret aspirations, (for it was thus he called them). But it will be better to give his words, as we find them in his own hand-writing.

“SECRET ASPIRATIONS OF LOVE.

“1 I resolve, now and forever, to abhor, detest and avoid every sin, both mortal and venial, and even the slightest imperfection that might in any way be contrary to the maxims of Jesus Christ ; which might tend to strengthen the influence of self-love or any other passion, or draw my heart to seek rest in creatures. And as soon a I perceive anything of this, I will immediately turn my heart to God by a simple act of implicit love, an interior impulse of the soul. I will do this with God’s aid which I humbly implore and confidently expect ; for, with­out his help I am capable of nothing but sin, in which I might exceed the greatest criminals.

“2 I am resolved, at the very first ap­pearance of any temptation whatever, to cling as closely as possible, by an interior motion of the heart, to the holy and loving law of God in its full extent, disavowing all the repugnance of my wretched concupis­cence and protesting against it with all my heart.

“3 In all my undertakings, but especi­ally in discharging the functions of the holy ministry, I purpose to have in view the sole glory of God, and the salvation of souls, caring nothing for human respect, and really desiring to be, on that account, derided, ridiculed, and persecuted in every possible way.

“4 I purpose to remain always united to God, resigned to his holy will in all the events of life, looking upon everything as ordered by his loving providence for my greater good, having received so many positive proofs of his beneficent care over me. Therefore, disregarding all human things, I will neither wonder nor rejoice nor be grieved, except in God or for God.

“5, I purpose, henceforward, to trample under foot all the judgments and sayings of men, going to God with simplicity and full liberty of spirit ; I care not who may choose to call me severe, scrupulous, melancholy, ignorant, a hypocrite, a fool, a fanatic, an enthusiast or any similar term. Let them seek to humble, ill-treat me, or do me the greatest injury, I will only cling the closer to the cross and exulting in God, will exclaim: Christo confixus sum cruci . . . mihi absit gloriari nisi in truce Domini Nostri Jesu Christi.

“6. I resolve neither to think, wish, say, nor do anything, whether directly or in­directly, for my own satisfaction ; but, if I can, without transgressing the law, I will always endeavor to act against my natural inclination, and hope to do all this by the grace of God.^, ( Taken at the foot of the Crucifix.)

“To attach myself still more finnly to the cross, I firmly resolve to renounce all spiritual delights even unto death; in the following sense however: i. I do not mean, hereby, to make any vow, or bind myself by anything beyond a mere promise. 2. I mean that I will neither seek, desire, nor in any manner aspire to it, believing myself, in all sincerity, quite unworthy of such favors. 3. I will, on the contrary, beseech Divine Goodness to give me in its stead, an increase of light, that I may know what I should do, and strength to execute his will, always in view of himself alone. 4. If God, who is so good, should deign to bestow upon me this spiritual sweetness, I must humble myself and be ex­ceedingly confused thereat ; thank him for it, and endeavor to find an opportunity of suffering, and of humbling myself, in pro­portion, if possible, to the pleasure I have enjoyed. 5. I must not think much of this sensible fervor, but conceal it with great care, attaching my heart more and more to suffering and humiliation.”

Finally, in the retreat which the servant of God made in 1814, lie thus speaks in confirmation of the preceeding resolutions: “I now resolve to reserve every species of enjoyment and repose for paradise, and in this life, to seek nothing but suffering, fatigue and contempt, and to do this al­ways and to the best of my ability. My life must be one continual sacrifice, and I must desire to suffer, labor, and be despised, ever more and more, as long as life may last. I shall avoid enjoyments,repose and human esteem, each day endeavoring to detach myself still more from all creatures, however good, amiable and virtuous they may be, in order that I may concentrate all my faculties on the pure love of God.”

When Father De Andreis speaks of longing after still greater labors, he refers to the spiritual advantage of his neighbor, because charity towards our neighbor pro­ceeds from the same source as love for God. Properly speaking, these two virtues are but one, which makes us act in different ways, like a tree with two branches, one of which rises towards heaven while the other leans towards the earth. Now, our fervent Missionary has very frequently shown that the works he undertook for the good of his neighbor were all prompted by his love for God, but he mentions this expressly, in the following terms :

“I am resolved to consider in my neigh­bor the living image of the one triune God, to look upon all as his adopted children, the spouses of Jesus Christ; and I will seek, by every means in my power, to promote their salvation and perfection. How then could I refrain from being anxious to-com­fort, edify, instruct, serve, and assist them? To succeed in a proper manner, I resolve to adopt with all indiscriminately1 the most efficacious means, namely humility, respect, and kindness, both in word and deed ; seeking after nothing myself, unless it be very clearly the will of God that I should do so. I will think well of all, ex­cuse, compassionate, esteem all, and wish well to all. I will never stop to reflect on suspicions or hear-say, but will treat them as things of no consequence; and, being well convinced of the infirmities and weak­ness of. human nature, I will generously exclaim: “I am the worst of all!”

The desire of accomodating himself to others made him, like St, Vincent, reflect on his exterior deportment, in order to divest it of whatever might seem too seri­ous or reserved.

“The Lord,” he writes, “has revealed to me during this retreat, that it is now time to abate somewhat of my habitual re­serve; and, this matter having been men­tioned to my superior, in communication, he also thinks that it should be done.

“Learn then, 0 my soul, to make thyself all unto all, by the constant practice of active, meek, simple, cordial, mortified and zealous humility, making of this a par­ticular study in thy meditations and exam­inations of conscience, purposing to follow the example of Father De Petris. And, al­though the time of recreation is for thee a kind of torture, thou must bear it, and con­quer thyself by the thought that our voca­tion requires us to be affable and cheerful in our demeanor.

If thou art not gentle with thyself, thou wilt never be so towards others. However much thou mayest study to wear a pleasant and cheerful countenance, thy manner will reveal that it is really for show. Thou wilt unconsciously discover the interior disturbance of thy heart, and even shouldst thou make efforts to conceal it, these very efforts will appear constrained and affected! error pejor priore. And, as we generally act, according to the Angelic Doctor, ex ltabitit praeconcepto, (though unknown to ourselves,) thou wilt, in spite of all thy care, now and then, when interiorly dis­turbed, let something of this disquietude be perceptible in thy manners, by being taci­turn or sarcastic in conversation. Come then, my soul,,let us take courage, etc.”