_Br._ But, hear what the Franciscan told me besides: While I was intent upon these Things, says he, St. _Jerome_ was come close to the Bridge, and saluted _Reuclin_ in these Words, _G.o.d save thee, my most holy Companion, I am ordered to conduct thee to the Mansions of the blessed Souls above, which the divine Bounty has appointed thee as a Reward for thy most pious Labours._ With that he took out a Garment, and put it upon _Reuclin_. Then, said I, tell me in what Habit or Form St. _Jerome_ appear'd, was he so old as they paint him? Did he wear a Cowl or a Hat, or the Garb of a Cardinal? Or had he a Lion by his Side? Nothing of all these, said he; but his Person was comely, which made his Age appear such as carried in it much Comeliness, but no Deformity. What Need had he to have a Lion by his Side, as he is commonly painted? His Gown came down to his Heels, as transparent as Crystal, and of the same Fashion of that he gave to _Reuclin_. It was all over painted with Tongues of three several Colours; some imitated Rubies, some Emeralds, and others Sapphires; and beside the Clearness of it, the Order set it off very much.

_Po._ An Intimation, I suppose, of the three Tongues that he profess'd.

_Br._ Without doubt: For he said, that upon the very Borders of the Garments were the Characters of these three Languages inscrib'd in their different Colours.

_Po._ Had _Jerome_ no Company with him?

_Br._ No Company, do you say? The whole Field swarm'd with Myriads of Angels, that fill'd the Air as thick, as those little Corpuscles they call Atoms, fly in the Sun Beams; pardon the Meanness of the Comparison.

If they had not been as transparent as Gla.s.s, there would have been no Heaven nor Earth to have been seen.

_Po._ O brave, I am glad with all my Heart, for _Reuclin_'s, Sake; but what follow'd?

_Br. Jerome_, (says he) for Honour's Sake, giving _Reuclin_ the Right-Hand, and embracing him, conducts him into the Meadow, and up a Hill that was in the middle of it, where they kiss'd and embrac'd one another again: In the mean Time, the Heavens open'd over their Heads to a prodigious Wideness, and there appear'd a Glory so unutterable, as made every Thing else, that pa.s.s'd for wonderful before, to look mean and sordid.

_Po._ Can't you give us some Representation of it?

Br. No, how should I, that did not see it? He who did see it, says, that he was not able to express the very Dream of it. He said, he would die a thousand Deaths to see it over again, if it were but for one Moment.

_Po._ How then?

_Br._ Out of this Overture of the Heavens, there was let down a great Pillar of Fire that was transparent, and of a very pleasant Form: By this the two holy Souls were carried into Heaven, in one anothers Embraces; a Choir of Angels all the While accompanying them, with so charming a Melody, that the Franciscan says, he is never able to think of the Delight of it without weeping. And after this there follow'd a wonderful fragrant Smell. When he waked out of his Dream, if you will call it a Dream, he was just like a mad Man. He would not believe he was in his Cell; he called for his Bridge and his Meadow; he could not speak or think of any Thing else but them. The Seniors of the Convent, when they found the Story to be no Fable, for it is certain that _Reuclin_ dy'd at the very Instant that the holy Man had this Vision, they unanimously gave Thanks to G.o.d, that abundantly rewards good Men for their good Deeds.

_Po._ What have we to do, but to set down this holy Man's Name in the Calendar of Saints?

_Br._ I should have done that if the Franciscan had seen nothing at all of this, and in Gold Letters too, I'll a.s.sure you, next to St. _Jerome_ himself.

_Po._ And let me die if I don't put him down in my Book so too.

_Br._ And besides that, I'll set him in Gold in my little Chapel, among the choicest of my Saints.

_Po._ And if I had a Fortune to my Mind, I'd have him in Diamonds.

_Br._ He shall stand in my Library, the very next to St. _Jerome_.

_Po._ And I'll have him in mine too.

_Br._ If they were grateful, every one who loves Learning and Languages, especially, the holy Tongues, would do so too.

_Po._ Truly it is no more than he deserves. But han't you some Scruple upon your Mind, in as much as he is not yet canoniz'd by the Authority of the Bishop of _Rome_?

_Br._ Why, pray, who canoniz'd (for that's the Word) St. _Jerome_? Who canoniz'd St. _Paul_, or the Virgin _Mary_? Pray tell me whose Memory is most sacred among all good Men? Those that by their eminent Piety, and the Monuments of their Learning and good Life, have ent.i.tled themselves to the Veneration of all Men; or _Catherine_ of _Sien_, that was sainted by _Pius_ the Second, in favour of the Order and the City?

_Po._ You say true: That's the right Worship, that by the Will of Heaven, is paid to the Merits of the Dead, whose Benefits are always sensibly felt.

_Br._ And can you then deplore the Death of this Man? If long Life be a Blessing, he enjoyed it. He has left behind him immortal Monuments of his Vertue, and by his good Works, consecrated his Name to Immortality.

He is now in Heaven, out of the Reach of Misfortunes, conversing with St. _Jerome_ himself.

_Po._ But he suffer'd a great Deal tho' in his Life.

_Br._ But yet St. _Jerome_ suffered more. It is a Blessing to be persecuted by wicked Men for being good.

_Po._ I confess so, and St. _Jerome_ suffer'd many unworthy Things from the worst of Men, for the best of Deeds.

_Br._ That which Satan did formerly by the Scribes and Pharisees against the Lord Jesus, he continues still to do by Pharisaical Men, against good Men, who have deserved well from the World by their Studies. He now reaps the blessed Harvest of the Seed he has been sowing. In the mean Time, it will be our Duty, to preserve his Memory sacred; to honour his Name, and to address him often in some such Manner as follows. _O holy Soul, be thou propitious to Languages, and to those that cultivate them: Favour the holy Tongues, and destroy evil Tongues that are infected with the Poison of h.e.l.l._

_Po._ I'll do't myself, and earnestly persuade all my Friends to do it.

I make no Question but there will be those that will desire to have some little Form of Prayer, according to Custom, to celebrate the Memory of this most holy Hero.

_Br._ Do you mean that which they call a Collect?

_Po._ Yes.

_Br._ I have one ready, that I provided before his Death.

_Po._ I pray let's hear it.

_Br. O G.o.d, that art the Lover of Mankind, that hast by thy chosen Servant_ John Reuclin, _renew'd to Mankind the Gift of Tongues, by which thy holy Spirit from above, did formerly furnish thy Apostles for their Preaching the Gospel; grant that all thy People may every where, in all Languages, preach the Glory of thy Son Jesus Christ, to the confounding of the Tongues of false Apostles; who being in a Confederacy to uphold the impious Tower of_ Babel, _endeavour to obscure thy Glory, and to advance their own, when to thee alone, together with thy only Son Jesus Christ our Lord, and the holy Spirit, is due all Glory to eternal Ages._ Amen.

_Po._ A most elegant and holy Prayer. As I live, it shall be mine daily.

And I account this a happy Opportunity, that has brought me to the Knowledge of so joyful a Story.

_Br._ Mayst thou long enjoy that Comfort, and so farewell.

_Po._ Fare you well too.

_Br._ I will fare well, but not be a Cook.

_A LOVER and MAIDEN._

The ARGUMENT.

_This Colloquy presents you with a very chaste Wooing, mingling many philosophical Notions with pleasant Jokes.

Of not being hasty in marrying; of chusing, not only for the Sake of the outward Person, but the inward Endowments of the Mind; of the Firmness of Wedlock; of not contracting Matrimony without the Consent of Parents; of living chastly in Matrimony; of bringing up Children piously; that the Soul is not where it animates, but where it loves. The Description of a deformed Man. That Wedlock is to be preferr'd before a single Life, and is not, as it is vulgarly called, a Halter. That we must not consult our Affections so much as Reason._

PAMPHILUS _and_ MARY.

_PA._ Good Morrow, Madam, cruel, hard Heart, inflexible.

_Ma._ Good Morrow to you too, Mr. _Pamphilus_, as often, and as much, and by what Names you please: But you seem to have forgotten my Name, 'tis _Mary_.

_Pa._ It should rather have been _Martia_.

_Ma._ Why so, pray, what is _Mars_ to me?