of success in life. Here might be seen Savoyards, Swiss, Lombards and several other nationalities, all living together in harmony and brotherhood, though they had their trained regiments and bands and fought many sham battles: all was activity, but tempered and seasoned with rare and solid piety.
They were taught to repress nature, to overcome their passions and bad inclinations, to be mutually considerate and helpful toward the neighbor, as well as to unite in prayer, to hear holy Mass, and approach the Sacraments. Day by day the character was formed and strengthened by such loving guidance, perfect prudence and divinely inspired watchfulness, that good Christian citizens were being trained for society, and pure-hearted Levites for God's Church. A majority of the boys were engaged in employments of various kinds during the day, and alas! too often under wicked masters or among vicious companions, so that to the keen, far-seeing eyes of Don Bosco, their future was full of peril; for the good wrought in their hearts by the restraining influences and pious practices of the Oratory might even be neutralized by the evil atmosphere which surrounded them.
Don Bosco considered deeply all phases of the psychical problem, so momentous for time and eternity, and prayed fervently for light. He visited and made gentle but forceful remonstrances to the masters, which were met only with hatred and threats of violence. Their enmity became so bitter, indeed, that his life was often in danger; he was shot at several times, twice while vesting for Mass, but the bullet turned aside and left him unharmed. More than once he was brutally insulted, knocked down and roughly treated. Once he was attacked with a butcher's knife by an apparent madman, but escaped almost by miracle. A friend of Don Bosco asked the assassin what motive had urged him to attempt the life of so good a man.
"I had none at all," he answered coolly, "except the eighty francs paid me to feign madness and stab him."
"Eighty francs to kill a man?" echoed Don Bosco's friend. "Well, if I give you one hundred and sixty not to injure him?"
"Just double," said the bandit; "then I promise to guard him." And he kept his word.
Don Bosco was called one night to hear the confession of a dying woman. Margaret sent four pupils armed with sticks to escort him. No sooner was Don Bosco within the room of the supposed patient than a blow from a cudgel was dealt him on the shoulders; but his faithful boys, alert on the watch, rushed to his aid and rescued him from the would-be murderers. A touching story is told of one of Don Bosco's most devoted disciples, afterward Monsieur Buzzetti, Inspector of the School of Arts and Sciences, that when a boy, he imperilled his life for his kind benefactor, receiving into his right hand the ball levelled at his master; part of the thumb and forefinger was torn away; and but for this Buzzetti would have been a priest.
"Mamma Margaret," Don Bosco's Saintly Mother.
"Die my dear son, rather than ever commit a mortal sin."
The Farm-House where Don Bosco was born, 1815.
CHAPTER VI DON BOSCO'S PROTECTOR, GRIGIO
You remember the bears that avenged the prophet Eliseus and the tame wolf of St. Francis of Assisi. So history connects the name of Don Bosco with a mysterious dog sent to be his protector during these most dangerous years of his life—a beautiful, strong grey dog, whom they named "Il Grigio," the grey. Sometimes returning from Turin to Valdocco late at night, he pursued his way without a thought of danger, though the place was full of quagmires and thick hedges, safe hiding places for assassins. One night a vague fear assailed him, when suddenly a huge dog approached, wagging his tail; turning, he walked beside Don Bosco and escorted him to the Oratory, but refused to enter. Afterward, whenever he was late, the dog was sure to appear on one side or other of the lonely road.
Three times Grigio saved his life. One dark winter night Don Bosco took a short cut home. He noticed two men who had a suspicious appearance, and hurried his pace toward an inhabited house. In vain; one of the men rushed forward and threw a cloak over his head, and his mouth was instantly gagged. All hope had left their victim's heart, when suddenly a terrible howl was heard, more like the growl of an infuriated bear; it was Grigio, who sprang first on one, then on the other of the men, biting, howling and finally throwing one of the men down. Terrified, they asked Don Bosco's pardon, adding, "Call off your dog or we shall be torn in pieces." Don Bosco called Grigio, and the cowardly wretches beat an inglorious retreat.
An assassin once fired two shots at his face, but they missed, and Grigio put the men to flight. Once at midnight, passing through the Place Milan, he saw a man following him armed with a great cudgel and hastened his steps, hoping to reach the Oratory in safety. He was at the top of the declivity, when he descried a group of men, who surrounded him with cudgels raised to strike; but suddenly the faithful Grigio appeared and sprang upon the men in such fury that they besought Don Bosco to quiet him; at his word the dog left them and they fled in the darkness, while the heaven-sent deliverer accompanied Don Bosco to the Oratory.
Once Grigio assumed a different manner of guardianship. One night Don Bosco, sometime after his arrival at Valdocco, found he had forgotten an important commission in Turin. He was preparing to start back, Margaret in the meantime using her best efforts to dissuade him; with reassuring words, however, he called some of the boys, and went to the front door, when, lo! there was Grigio stretched at full length on the threshold.
"O this is good!" said Don Bosco; "our party will be the stronger.
He called the dog, but Grigio would not stir; twice he tried to go out, but Grigio made objections.
Margaret laughed and teased him. "The dog has more sense than you, my son; do you obey him." And Don Bosco had to return to his room.
A little later a neighbor came to warn him not to leave the house, as evil-looking men were prowling about the road. Don Bosco was at supper one evening with his mother and some priests, when Grigio walked into the boys' playground. Young Buzzetti cried out: "This is Grigio, Don Bosco's dog." All surrounded him, lavishing caresses on the beloved guardian of their master. They led him to the refectory where he went joyously to Don Bosco, refusing any food. The dog, resting his chin on the table, looked at Don Bosco with deep affection; then going away he disappeared, no one knowing whence he came or whither he went. His mission was fulfilled.
But thirty years after, Don Bosco, with one of his young priests, Don Durando, was passing through an unknown road, the rain falling in torrents. They lost their way, and Don Bosco slipped into a quagmire.
"Ah!" he cried, "if my faithful Grigio were here!"
His wish was scarcely uttered when a huge dog appeared. Don Durando was frightened, but Don Bosco caressed the dog, who showed great joy.
"You say this is Grigio?" inquired the young priest.
"Undoubtedly," was the answer, "the same size, the same color, and he recognizes me: but if you are really my old Grigio," he said affectionately to the dog, "you will lead us out of this peril." The dog started off and Don Bosco followed. Soon the three arrived at the Bordighera Oratory. Don Bosco turned to thank Grigio—but he had vanished.
How many conjectures have been offered as to the personality of this guide and guardian! I think that most persons concur in the opinion that it was Don Bosco's angel guardian. Some deem it to have been a special angel sent on that mission of deliverance. I know one who considers it the more plausible theory that one of Don Bosco's own boys—for many died young—had come to be the protector of him who had saved his soul; the profound parting look of affection in Grigio's eyes seems to support his theory. Or might it have been a soul from purgatory, Don Bosco's conquest from hell, that had been deputed to preserve the life of the holy Apostle of Turin? That the dog was a supernatural protector, seems to be the prevailing opinion.