Padre Francisco had the gifts of intuition and of clear-seeing, which generally are found developed respectively in women and brute beasts. He knew when a house was about to fall some time before it fell. He knew, on seeing a courier from his eldest son, that an heir was born to the Duke Don Carlos of Gandia. The courier did not relish this intuition, thinking that he deserved reward for his good news: of which disgust, also, Padre Francisco was aware; and gave reward. _The greater the detachment from the world, over worldly things the greater power is gained._ People who saw Padre Francisco during his generalship, saw rays of mysterious light playing round his head. The phenomenon of the electric aura now is well-known; and the camera will show it on occasion. Often, in his trances of prayer, he was seen floating above the ground. In 1566 the Lord Pius P.P. IV died; and, succeeding Him, the Lord Pius P.P. V. stopped his coronation procession at the Jesuit House in Rome, that He might pay His respects to the holy General. In 1569 Padre Francisco again was stricken with fever. Recovering, he made a pilgrimage to the Holy House of Nazareth, which angels carried over the sea from Palestine and set down at Loreto by Ancona. In 1571 the Pope’s Holiness sent an embassage to France and Spain and Portugal, to rouse the sovereigns of Christendom against the Muslim Infidel. The ambassadors were the Papal Nephew, the Lord Michele Bonello, son of Madonna Gardina the Pope’s sister, born at Boschi near Alessandria, who at his august Uncle’s first creation in 1566 had been named Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Maria _sopra Minerva_ with the cognomen Alessandrino; and Padre Francisco de Borgia, Prepositor-General of the Company of Jesus. The two left Rome in 1571. In Barcelona, they settled a long-standing dispute between the government and the cathedral chapter; for Padre Francisco was ever a peacemaker. In the province of Cataluna, which was not unmindful of him who had been its viceroy, the ambassadors were received with the highest honour. The record of this journey, through the scenes of his youthful glory, is one of the most pathetic things in human history. This sinister emaciated phantom shabbily robed in thread-bare black, whose thin lips bit perpetual pain; this great and narrow spirit with eyes tardy and grave, furtively, drowsily, reluctantly, regarding earthly things, having seen the heavenly; this mendicant, whose companion was a prince of the church sumptuous in ermine and vermilion,—he was no stranger in Cataluna, where aforetime as marquess, duke, and imperial viceroy he had exercised despotic and sovereign rule. Now he thought no place low enough, foul enough, for his deserts. He was in, but not of, the world. At Valencia, his children and his grandchildren knelt to kiss his way-worn feet. They prayed him to visit his duchy of Gandia. He refused. He was no longer of the world.