silver and gold, are melted by the heat of fire, and made like a flowing stream. To be burnt alive, singed with burning torches, torn with red-hot pincers, and roasted on burning coals were the worst tortures inflicted either by criminal judges on offenders, or by tyrants on the martyrs of Christ, who gave their blood for the faith. Our Father Eusebius Nierenberg, who was in his day a wonder of learning and piety in Spain, lay for ten years grievously ill in bed, and suffered so much in every part of his body, that there was hardly a limb that had not its own special torment; it was believed of him that he had begged of God so to afflict him in this life, that he might increase his merit by suffering the pains of purgatory before death. In all his torments, his only answer to those who used to visit and try to console him was: “It is not fire: it is not fire!” The pain I have to suffer is indeed severe, but it is not fire. His nerves were so contracted that he became quite crooked; his long lying in bed caused the flesh to become so corrupted that it had to be cut off his body; but his only cry was: “It is not fire; it will soon.be over.”
As we know by experience.
Why need we seek the testimony of others, my dear brethren, since we can consult our own experience on this point if we wish, and see what pain fire can cause? If one happens to burn the outer skin of the finger, it is recommended to hold the affected part to the fire to draw the heat out. The remedy is an assured one; but did any of you ever try it to see how painful it is? Oh, how the poor patient screams and bites his lips, and how often he draws his finger away! One might think he is almost on the point of losing his senses, so great is the pain he suffers. It would be almost impossible to bear it for the space of one Miserere. Yet the flesh is not even in the fire, which merely sends the heat out to it. How would it be if the finger had to be kept in the fire or on a burning coal for the space of a Miserere? Truly, there is many a one who would rather cut the finger off altogether than bear such torture. Some of you may have seen a glass-blowing establishment, or a smelting-furnace, in which iron and copper are melted? Is it not a grizzly sight to see the seething, hissing mass of molten flame? Not long ago I stood before a brew-kettle, and saw the fire underneath, which was not at all equal to that of a smelting-furnace. I wished to throw in a piece of wood, but the heat was so great that I was glad to abandon my intention. O my God! thought I; how would it be
