{"id":105554,"date":"2016-07-13T04:00:02","date_gmt":"2016-07-13T02:00:02","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/vincentians.com\/?p=105554"},"modified":"2016-07-14T12:18:30","modified_gmt":"2016-07-14T10:18:30","slug":"letters-of-frederic-ozanam-chapter-01","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/vincentians.com\/en\/letters-of-frederic-ozanam-chapter-01\/","title":{"rendered":"Letters of Fr\u00e9d\u00e9ric Ozanam. Chapter 01"},"content":{"rendered":"

Introductory \u2014 His family and early life.<\/em><\/p>\n

A little more than thirty years ago, a young French\u00adman (comparatively young, at least, for he had only passed his fortieth birthday) died at Marseilles. After his death, his wife consoled herself by collecting, arrang\u00ading, and putting through the press his literary remains\u2014so much as it was practicable to publish\u2014in nine volumes. His friends showed their appreciation of his amiable character, intellectual endowments, and earnest life by rendering their aid in this enterprise, and his all but native city, Lyons, thought the best monument they could raise to his memory was an edition of his works. This man was Antoine-Frederic Ozanam, Professor of Foreign Literature in the Sorbonne. To him M. Guizot, speaking in the Academy after his death, referred as “model of a Christian man of letters : dignified and humble ; ardent friend of science, and firm champion of the faith ; tasting with tenderness the pure joys of life, and submitting with gentleness to the long expectation of death ; carried away from the holiest affections and from the noblest labors, too soon according to the world, but already ripe for heaven and for glory.” And of him M. Renan, who had perhaps listened to his lectures, is reported to have exclaimed : ” Ah, how we loved him ! What a beautiful soul !” After the publication of his Works which spread over a period of twelve or fourteen years \u2014his literary remains were very numerous, and many of them quite unfinished\u2014his friends, apparently with con\u00adsiderable hesitation, resolved upon putting a biography of him into the hands of the public, by publishing two volumes of letters. These remarkable letters are worthy of being widely known and read. Ozanam calls him\u00adself loquacious and prolix. One of his friends says of him that he not only possessed the art of loving his friends, but that of telling them so. Certainly some of these letters\u2014written, perhaps, at rare intervals\u2014are of a very unusual length. Whole pages are taken up in reasoning of things around him, persuading and exhorting, opening out his troubles and perplexities, sometimes in descriptions of country or of manner of life ; lastly, in laying out in detail large plans of work to be done, both in action and writing, both by him\u00adself and any of his friends who would assist him. As they date from his eighteenth year, they are many of them written at a time when both heart and hand are apt to be diffuse and flowing. One of his friends, indeed, said that Ozanam never was young ; but while this may be descriptive of the subjects, the scope, and the reasoning of his letters, there is plenty of the artlessness and freshness and ready flow of youth about them. Some of these letters might easily, however, be divested of the epistolary form altogether, and appear by themselves as dissertations, reports, etc. But there is no end of the short sentences or brief passages which might at the same time be culled for profit and in\u00adterest from almost all. Twenty or twenty-five years after his death, his elder brother completed the monu\u00adment of affection and esteem by publishing a “Life,” in which a detailed account of his youth up to the time when the letters commence, and much which could not be drawn from the letters, is found, together with extracts from the letters themselves, and from his works.<\/p>\n

These letters are translated and reproduced in the following pages. Not, indeed, wholly ; there is much in them which may trench on Protestant feeling, or offend Protestant sympathies ; and although it would not be well to exclude all these passages, simply upon this account, yet as by reason of the length of the letters much must be omitted, it seemed preferable to omit first some of those parts which from any cause might be presumed to lack interest to the present reader. Of the accompanying sketch of the life perhaps the same may be said.<\/p>\n

Frederic Ozanam, though he might be styled a native of Lyons, was born in Milan. In the early part of the present century, his father, John Antoine Ozanam, with his wife and two children, had settled here. The family were said to be anciently of Jewish origin, and the name to be derived from the plural form of the word “Hosanna.’ John Antoine, a man of forty years old at this time, and his wife Marie, eight years younger, each had a history behind them. The husband was a medical man at the time Frederic’s life opens, having passed his examina\u00adtions at Pavia since coming to Milan. Early in life he had felt the desire of practicing what in later years he considered ” a kind of priesthood,” of which he often repeated that to fulfil its functions worthily one must be ready, if necessary, to give one’s life for one’s patients. In this he joined example to precept. When, in 1813, the typhus made terrible ravages in Milan, it is said that he established himself in the military hospital, and alone\u2014for two doctors had just succumbed to the terrible plague\u2014took under his charge three hundred sick, until the danger was past. For this devotion, “the decoration of the Iron Crown ” was sent him. Later on, for many years he gave gratuitous aid to the poor, and his son Frederic chronicles that, after his death, when he had to inspect his affairs, he found that a large share of his visits were made to the poor, to those from whom he had no expectation of payment. His father, falling into the error which he himself somewhat singularly repeated in later years, desired to bring him up for the law, and to this desire he had deferred. He was, however, compelled to take arms at the beginning of the Revolution in 1793. In this time of terror his father was imprisoned and threatened with death ; the fall of Robespierre inter\u00advened, after the young soldier had, by a desperately bold stroke, risked his own life to save his father’s. He was at some of the most celebrated battles of the campaign\u2014among others, Lodi and Pavia\u2014passed through various adventures, and received various wounds, and was pre\u00adsented to Bonaparte, who promised to remember him. He did not, however, desire to be remembered with martial honors ; after six years’ service, he obtained with some trouble his dismission, and in the following year married. A reverse of fortune drove him in a year or two to Milan, and there, wanting resources for his family, his mind fell back upon its early idea, and he entered the profession for which Nature seemed to have destined him.<\/p>\n

His wife Marie, born at Lyons, where her father was a silk merchant, was still a child there, when, amid the other horrors of the Revolution, its siege took place. The little girl was hidden in the cellar, that she might be sheltered from the bombs ; she saw her father and mother dragged to prison, together with a brother who was afterwards massacred. The parents escaped death, and were after joined by their child in Switzerland. In a village near Lausanne they took up their abode for a while, and there little Marie made her first Commu\u00adnion, instructed by a good Swiss cure, who was accus\u00adtomed to repeat to his little catechumen with great gentleness some sweet words, which she in her turn repeated to her children when they were round her knees\u2014whether they were the refrain of a hymn or not we know not : ” We will go both of us, we will go both of us into Paradise.” The miseries of her childhood, her later misfortunes\u2014in especial the frequent loss of children\u2014and her own somewhat delicate health, had made her nervous and prone ” to look on the dark side of things.” ” The least thing excited her uneasiness,” and the scrupulosity of her own conscience added to this. Probably, however, these developments came later on more into view ; and in spite of all she was gentle and lively, making joyful songs for her children in their family feasts, and, adds her eldest son, in sketching her life, as an evident proof of her great goodness, ” she kept during all her life the same servant.” She herself, not\u00adwithstanding her many hindrances, was very active in her domestic life, rising at seven, dressing quickly, and forthwith “looking well to the ways of her household, occupying herself continually with her young children, teaching them to walk, to read, to write ; her happiness, above all, was to give them their earliest lessons of piety and religion.” She saw them put to bed, taught them to turn their little hearts to God, and spoke to them at the last a few words ” of God, the Holy Virgin, the good Angel, or the Saints, mingling her gentle words with those mother’s kisses which penetrated to the depth of the soul, and which embalmed them for ever.” She watched over all their little works, taught them how to study ; and the time was ruled for study, for play, for eating, and for sleeping, with regularity, and her watchfulness grew rather than lessened with their increasing years. Father and mother were earnest-minded Christians, having, indeed, as it would appear, no idea of forsaking the form of faith in which they had been brought up, but having certainly as little of abandoning the faith, or attempting to substitute for it the sceptical forms of their day. ” In the midst of an age of scepticism,” says Frederic, writing many years later, ” God gave me the grace of being born in the faith. As a child He set me on the knees of a Christian father and of a holy mother.”<\/p>\n

While yet very young, John Antoine Ozanam had read the Bible of Calmet from beginning to end. Family prayer was had each evening ; sometimes pious reading followed the prayer. Two children formed this family at the time our history opens\u2014Elisa, a girl of twelve, lively and intelligent, ” with a remarkable memory and a great aptitude for the sciences,” and Alphonse, nine years old, who, later on, writes his mother’s memoirs. The servant, Marie Croziat, must also be introduced here, as being in reality one of the family and a very valuable member. She must now have been about thirty years in the service of either parents or grandparents, of an honesty above proof, and a “fabulous economy,” labouring with all her might, and gifted by nature with a good deal of originality, and also, what was perhaps better still, a very good judgment. She had passed the dark days of the Revolution with her masters or mistresses, and though she was not exempt from defects of temper and manner, her employers would as little have thought of separating from her as she from them. She died in the family many years later. ” Seventy-two years in the service of our family,” says Alphonse Ozanam. Here, then, and in this manner, had this family been living for four years, watching the d\/nouement <\/em>of the ” gigantic drama ” which was working a complete revolution in the history of their country. ” The brilliant star of Napoleon began to pale,” the Russian war drew to its disastrous end, and the Milan hospitals were filled with sick and wounded, while typhus made frightful ravages,<\/p>\n

It was at this time that, on one spring day, another babe came into the family (April 23rd, 1813), Antoine Frederic, who was baptized in a church since destroyed and rebuilt, Santa Maria dei Servi. He was a delicate child, and as he grew out of his first days, showed a ner\u00advous temperament from which he was destined to suffer greatly in future life, and an intellect decidedly in ad\u00advance of his physical powers. He spoke early, and before he was able to walk they used to set him on the table whilst his brother and sister repeated their lessons ; among other things, the fables of La Fontaine. He paid a serious attention to them, retained\u2022 without difficulty entire passages whose poetry enticed him and favoured his infant memory. He also learned to make use of and apply them, and was hardly two years old when, his father playing with him, he quoted appositely a portion of one of them in answer to him.<\/p>\n

His sister, Elisa, then fourteen or fifteen, was delighted with the cleverness of her little brother, and undertook carefully to develop his intelligence. She became his instructress in his early years, and taught him the ele\u00adments of sacred history, geography, and some little fables. This gentle instructress, of whom Frederic, many years later, said that she was “pious and intelligent as the angels whom she went to rejoin,” died after a short illness, when her little pupil was six or seven years old. When Frederic was four the family had returned to Lyons, where he was brought up, “becoming Lyonnese by heart.” Dr. Ozanam removed when Milan came under Austrian rule, and when Frederic was ten years old he began to attend the Royal College at Lyons. The director of the College at that time was the Abbe Rousseau, and the child was happy in his teachers. One of them\u2014M. Legeay\u2014says that ” he was of the small number of those of whom a prudent master ought to restrain the ardour.”<\/p>\n

Several Latin poems, preserved by M. Legeay, are given. One is put into the mouth of the unfortunate Marie Antoinette, addressed to Madame Elizabeth in her last moments ; one is addressed to the Virgin Mary ; and there are various others. Of two of these the age is given\u2014thirteen. One of these two last is ” Of the Shortness of Life.” A rough translation of this is added :<\/p>\n

OF THE SHORTNESS OF LIFE.<\/p>\n

As the swift eagle like a flash of light
\nFrom thundercloud comes down with rapid flight,
\nFrom the high heaven the little birds upon,
\nSnatches with quick claw and again is gone;<\/p>\n

Or as in Grecian games the flying steed,
\nWhen first the trumpet gives the signal shrill,
\nFrom post to goal darts on with breathless speed,
\nAnd in a moment at the end stands still ;<\/p>\n

So, 0 my friends ! the years are flying on
\nNot to return : so swiftly life is gone,
\nYouth’s laughter dies away, and Time hath brought
\nWith speedy foot old age with pensive thought.<\/p>\n

The course of nature no delay can hold,
\nNot virtue’s self\u2014not prayers though humbly told ;
\nNo hundred victims with their dying breath
\nCan keep from us indomitable Death.<\/p>\n

As from the snowy heights the mountain stream
\nRushes in torrents o’er the stony ground,
\nO’erwhelms, effaces, like a passing dream,
\nHouses and trees which in its path are found ;<\/p>\n

So our sweet life departs with hasty flight ;
\nHardly the morning’s dawn is o’er the land
\nWhen Vesper beams from heaven with evening light,
\nAnd following darkness cometh close at hand.<\/p>\n

Hardly has man, unhappy, left the bed,
\nA cradled infant where he feebly lay,
\nHe presses on the tomb with trembling tread ;
\nJust born he seeks the tomb\u2014another stay !<\/p>\n

In vain we deck our temples with a crown,
\nIn vain among the fragrant rose we twine
\nThe violet, and our troubles seek to drown,
\nOur rugged cares, with draughts of honeyed wine.<\/p>\n

In vain, triumphant in the martial field
\nWhen death is all around, the hero stands,
\nAnd, joyful, bears the trophies war can yield\u2014
\nCrops of bright laurels\u2014to his native land ;<\/p>\n

In vain the poet with his speaking song
\nEarns for himself from all a poet’s name ;
\nAnd in his joy, the coming years along,
\nDeems he has gained an ever-flowing fame.<\/p>\n

Earth, fame, and life must all behind be left ;
\nWife and beloved children, friends so dear ;
\nWhile in one darksome kingdom we bereft
\nAbide, the land of shadows dark and drear.<\/p>\n

Why not then seek the inmost rest of soul ?
\nThe mind’s repose, with virtue’s constant powers,
\nUse Heaven’s brief gift, the flying years control,
\nAnd with good deeds adorn the passing hours ?<\/p>\n

Alas ! 0 friends ! believe, believe !
\nTime flies along, the minutes will not stay ;
\nAnd we our short career must quickly leave :
\nThey draw, they snatch us with themselves away.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Here are a few more of his early poems as specimens. The translation in French prose of this and the pre\u00adceding is given by M. Legeay, who deemed it well worth his while to preserve these compositions of his pupil.<\/p>\n

THE ASCENSION OF CHRIST.<\/p>\n

Who is this rising through the radiant skies
\nWith shining vesture and with countenance,
\nAs upward to the distant stars He flies,
\nOf brilliant glance ?<\/p>\n

Light flowing from His brow divine,
\nAnd majesty o’er all doth shine ;
\nAnd with sweet incense doth His floating hair
\nFill the soft air.<\/p>\n

O day for ever placed ‘mid days on high !
\nO shining grace of His all-conquering breath !
\nIn which our Lord, returning to the sky,
\nTrampled on Death !<\/p>\n

Already rising swift, He leaves our earth,
\nOur earth unhappy as it lies adown :
\nHe looketh back, then tendeth toward the mirth
\nOf His Father’s throne.<\/p>\n

So He o’ercomes the darkness of the tomb,
\nAnd snaps death’s bonds with all-victorious strife :
\nHe comes with spoils from Hades’ deepest gloom
\nTo the shores of life.<\/p>\n

Not so much beauty follows the first birth,
\nWhen the sweet sun comes forth with radiance bright,
\nAnd in his brilliant course the joyful earth
\nRecreates with light.<\/p>\n

Why ragest thou, 0 Satan, still in vain ?
\nWhy sighs the gulf of darkness from beneath ?
\nBehold, He triumphs who hath burst the reign
\nAnd gates of Death I<\/p>\n

Behold, the happy souls are in His train,
\nFollowing their Saviour, and with joy they sing,
\nThey chant His praises ; in full choir again
\nThey lead their King.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

When about fifteen, Frederic gathered together a few of his Latin poems into a little book, which, with all modesty and affection, he dedicated to his father and his mother. An epistle in Latin verse to his father ends with the words, “Do not disdain these firstfruits of my labour ; be for me not a judge, but a father.” Here is the dedication\u2014in French apparently\u2014to his ” dear mamma :” ” It is again this giddy scholar who comes to break your head with his Latin. Take him to your indulgence ; you have accustomed him to believe that all that he does for you may be agreeable to you. Besides, he pays you with what money he has. It is the only present which his purse permits him to offer you. Receive it with the wishes your son forms for you, Frederic Ozanam.” A little later he composed a French poem, “Jeremiah on the Ruins of Jerusalem,” from which are translated roughly a few extracts of the close ; and a very different little thing\u2014a translation into Latin verse from the Italian of Tasso, of Tasso’s sonnet to his cats.<\/p>\n

Liban’s proud cedar which into the sky
\nCarried its head on high,
\nIs fallen ; now its trunk must lowly lie.
\nIts boughs are dead and dry,
\nWhich rose aloft erewhile to touch the skies,
\nAnd seemed to dare the fiercest storm to rise.<\/p>\n

Bethlehem’s lily droops, its dazzling white
\nHas gone, the rose no longer blooms in light :
\nAnd thou thyself shalt see thy youth decay,
\nShalt see eclipsed thy vigour and thy power ;
\nAnd all thy beauty only is a flower
\nWhich soon in years shall wither and decay.<\/p>\n

All feel the burden of their conquering foe,
\nAnd Zion weeps her widowhood :
\nWhere I heard solemn hymns before,
\nI only hear the silence round,
\nAnd on these altars where of yore
\nThe Ark of Covenant was found,
\nI only see dumb monsters lie
\nWho, gorged with blood and carnage past,
\nStill feed them on some new repast ;
\nWhere are the monarchs of a sinful race ?
\nWhere are the kings of Israel found,
\nWhom yesterday in stately grace
\nI saw within their palace ground ?<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Then comes the prophet’s parting address to Zoro\u00adbabel :<\/p>\n

With clearest voices let these ruins call,
\nAnd be they graven deep within thy soul,
\nThat Zion’s wail be king’s untimely fall ;
\nThat Babel, drunken, with her blood and dole,
\nMay teach thee at what price man may the Lord
\nInsult with deed or word.<\/p>\n

But lo ! upon my eyelid what new star
\nSends down its ray ?\u2014a veil is torn aside,
\nThe secret future opens from afar,
\nAnd brilliant day pours light as in a tide :
\nMy heart is drunk with joy, reborn of pain,
\nDestiny unfolds again.<\/p>\n

Where go these warriors ? O’er the desert sands
\nI see them marching towards our gloomy hills ;
\nAs the proud eagle, so their conquering bands
\nHave come to lift up Sion from her ills ;
\nThe temple rises and the walls once more
\nThey now restore.<\/p>\n

But what new sun before them beaming light,
\nIllumines with its shining Israel ?
\nIt speaks already of the tempest’s flight-
\n‘Tis thou, my blessed son, Zorobabel !
\nThese faithful hosts back to their land who brings ;
\nWinds lend your wings.<\/p>\n

Console thyself, 0 Sion I wipe thy tears.
\nI see the incense on thine altars rise ;
\nThy land bath laid aside her woes and fears,
\nAnd in the temple now her songs arise ;
\nShe brings to God her firstfruits once again
\nWith joyful strain.<\/p>\n

And thou, proud Queen\u2014thou, haughty Babylon !
\nWhere shall we seek thy state, thy ruins where ?
\nThe Lord in wrath bath overturned thy throne,
\nThy crown is broken, answered is our prayer ;
\nBut thou, Jerusalem, forget no more
\nThy Saviour Lord to adore.<\/p>\n

He speals. Zorobabel with heart-relief
\nHastes to o’ertake his people in their grief,
\nAnd with the blessing of the prophet’s hand
\nTakes up his chains and quits his native land.<\/p>\n

TASSO’S SONNET TO HIS CATS.<\/p>\n

As when the tempest on a cloudy night
\nCovers the heavens and lifts with thunder hoarse
\nThe watery deep, with terror and affright
\nThe trembling sailor seeks to guide his course
\nBy stars he dimly sees through clouds alight
\nWith fiery vengeance, so to me whom force
\nOf stern misfortune in this dungeon drear
\nHath cast adown, I seek my only cheer
\nIn thy bright eyes, 0 cat 1 and thus it seems
\nTheir sparkling glance brings comfort to my dreams.
\nAs polar star gives hope amid the storm,
\nSo I see them ; and yet another form\u2014
\nA little cat\u2014my straining eyes descry,
\nAnd then still more uplighteneth my care.
\nI think I have, as in the starry sky
\nBeside the Pole, a great and little,Bear !
\nO cats who lighten up my toilsome day-
\nOh cats, how much I love you, who shall say !
\nMay kindly Fortune keep you safe from blows,
\nAnd bring of meat and milk in full supplies !
\nOnly enlighten me, my verse to close,
\nWith the bright sparkle of your glancing eyes !<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Frederic was rapidly approaching a less serene time of life, so far as outward things were concerned ; and indeed even now, before he went out into the world, and before it might have been expected, a trial fell upon him\u2014a trial which comes in some form or other, at some time or other, to many, not to all\u2014a trial from which neither his Christian education, his upright simple heartedness, neither father, nor mother, nor brother, though they might help, could entirely save him. Distressing doubts found their way into his mind\u2014skeptical doubts. ” The noises of a world which be\u00adlieved not,” he says, “came even to me. I knew all the horror of those doubts which consume the heart by day, and which one finds again at night on a pillow moistened by tears. The uncertainty of my eternal destiny left me no repose.” It was given to a “priest philosopher “\u2014M. Noirot, professor of philosophy for twenty years in the College at Lyons\u2014to come to his effectual aid, and to put into his thoughts order and light,’ so that he believed henceforward with a faith re\u00adassured and touched with so rare a benefit he pro\u00admised to God to devote his days to the service of the truth which gave him peace.” M. Noirot was a highly intelligent and benevolent-hearted man. He took his young pupil Frederic with him in his walks about the rugged borders of the Saone and in the environs of Lyons, and there conversed with him without note of time on whatever he wished to consult him ; and it was he who re-opened “the windows of his soul to the day,” who dusted out from them and from the corners of his soul the cobwebs which too much thought of many things had engendered. “To him eternal gratitude,” said Frederic later on. This desolating time passed over at last, leaving, as one result, a kindlier considera\u00adtion for those with whom in later years he had to do. ” Oh,” said he to his brother often then, ” they accuse me sometimes of treating with too much indulgence and gentleness those who have not faith. When one has passed through the sufferings of doubt, one would feel it a crime to treat harshly those unhappy ones to whom God has not yet granted the grace of believing.”<\/p>\n

In the midst almost of his troubles, or perhaps directly after\u2014after the promise which he had made to God\u2014the thought rose up in his mind which left it no more, which remained with him always, forming his life\u00adwork\u2014or the greater part of his life-work\u2014the thought of a work which he would execute, to which he would devote himself\u2014a written book which should undertake the proof and illustration of the truth of Christianity by history. He was then sixteen. Title and plan altered and developed as years passed on, but to the day of his death the elaboration and development of this idea occupied his mind.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Introductory \u2014 His family and early life. A little more than thirty years ago, a young French\u00adman (comparatively young, at least, for he had only passed his fortieth birthday) died at Marseilles. 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What an inspirational experience this has been. I am in awe of the determination, great intellect and amazing faith of Blessed Frederic Ozanam. He has shown us how an \u2018ordinary\u2019 person can accomplish extraordinary things when the talents given by God are put to use in service of others.\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Fr\u00e9d\u00e9ric Ozanam"","block_context":{"text":"Fr\u00e9d\u00e9ric Ozanam","link":"http:\/\/vincentians.com\/en\/category\/the-vincentian-family\/founders\/frederic-ozanam\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2012\/11\/ozanam-bust.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2012\/11\/ozanam-bust.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2012\/11\/ozanam-bust.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2012\/11\/ozanam-bust.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2012\/11\/ozanam-bust.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]},{"id":63034,"url":"http:\/\/vincentians.com\/en\/the-brave-never-die-a-story-of-frederic-ozanam-chapter-1\/","url_meta":{"origin":105554,"position":2},"title":"The Brave Never Die: A Story of Frederic Ozanam. Chapter 1","author":"Francisco Javier Fern\u00e1ndez Chento","date":"August 2, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"CHAPTER ONE This is the story of a man whose love for the poor was so great that he founded the Society of St. Vincent de Paul and spent his whole life of forty short years helping others. Frederic Ozanam was born in Milan, Italy, on April 23, 1813. At\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Fr\u00e9d\u00e9ric Ozanam"","block_context":{"text":"Fr\u00e9d\u00e9ric Ozanam","link":"http:\/\/vincentians.com\/en\/category\/the-vincentian-family\/founders\/frederic-ozanam\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/07\/ozanam-stamp.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/07\/ozanam-stamp.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/07\/ozanam-stamp.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/07\/ozanam-stamp.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/07\/ozanam-stamp.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]},{"id":64828,"url":"http:\/\/vincentians.com\/en\/frederic-ozanam-a-layman-for-now-chapter-2\/","url_meta":{"origin":105554,"position":3},"title":"Fr\u00e9d\u00e9ric Ozanam, A Layman for Now. Chapter 2","author":"Francisco Javier Fern\u00e1ndez Chento","date":"September 10, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"Chapter 2 - Biographical Sketch Frederic Ozanam was born on April 23, 1813 in Milan, Italy. He was the fifth child of fourteen born to Jean-Antoine- Francoise and Marie Nantas Ozanam, ardent French Catholics of middle-class circumstances. His father had served with distinction as an officer under Napoleon, retiring early\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Fr\u00e9d\u00e9ric Ozanam"","block_context":{"text":"Fr\u00e9d\u00e9ric Ozanam","link":"http:\/\/vincentians.com\/en\/category\/the-vincentian-family\/founders\/frederic-ozanam\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/07\/frederic-ozanam-layman-for-now.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/07\/frederic-ozanam-layman-for-now.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/07\/frederic-ozanam-layman-for-now.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/07\/frederic-ozanam-layman-for-now.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/07\/frederic-ozanam-layman-for-now.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]},{"id":63040,"url":"http:\/\/vincentians.com\/en\/the-brave-never-die-a-story-of-frederic-ozanam-chapter-5\/","url_meta":{"origin":105554,"position":4},"title":"The Brave Never Die: A Story of Frederic Ozanam. Chapter 5","author":"Francisco Javier Fern\u00e1ndez Chento","date":"August 6, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"CHAPTER FIVE After his father's death, Frederic had to care for his mother, who was no longer young or in good health. His younger brother, Charles, was in college and needed funds for his food, clothing and education. Doctor Ozanam had left very little money in his will since most\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Fr\u00e9d\u00e9ric Ozanam"","block_context":{"text":"Fr\u00e9d\u00e9ric Ozanam","link":"http:\/\/vincentians.com\/en\/category\/the-vincentian-family\/founders\/frederic-ozanam\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/07\/ozanam-stamp.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/07\/ozanam-stamp.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/07\/ozanam-stamp.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/07\/ozanam-stamp.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/07\/ozanam-stamp.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]},{"id":63046,"url":"http:\/\/vincentians.com\/en\/the-brave-never-die-a-story-of-frederic-ozanam-chapter-6\/","url_meta":{"origin":105554,"position":5},"title":"The Brave Never Die: A Story of Frederic Ozanam. Chapter 6","author":"Francisco Javier Fern\u00e1ndez Chento","date":"August 7, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"CHAPTER SIX A pleasant house was found in Paris and the lectures of the brilliant young professor soon began. His first one was probably the most painful. Always shy and clumsy, Ozanam feared going into the lecture hall. After he had done so, the first part of his talk was\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Fr\u00e9d\u00e9ric Ozanam"","block_context":{"text":"Fr\u00e9d\u00e9ric Ozanam","link":"http:\/\/vincentians.com\/en\/category\/the-vincentian-family\/founders\/frederic-ozanam\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/07\/ozanam-stamp.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/07\/ozanam-stamp.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/07\/ozanam-stamp.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/07\/ozanam-stamp.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/2016\/07\/ozanam-stamp.jpg?fit=1200%2C630&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]}],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/105554","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=105554"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/105554\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/149894"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=105554"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=105554"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/vincentians.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=105554"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}