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Cornelius a Lapide created a Scripture Commentary so complete and scholarly that it was practically the universal commentary in use by Catholics (often available only in 30 some Latin volumes) for hundreds of years. As part of the mission of Loreto Publications’ apostolate we have spent a lot of time and money over the last four years to produce a translation and design a beautiful edition of this priceless commentary so long hidden from the eyes of most Catholics. Now is your opportunity to own this masterpiece.

For an additional fee, customers can have access to an online version of the book. Detailed information and free samples are available from the online edition of a Lapide.

Note: If you have already purchased the books, and wish to purchase online access, contact us.

If you would like to purchase only the online edition ($40.00), you can do so here.

This set boasts the following features:

• Leather Covers & Satin Ribbons
• 2800+ Pages in Four Volumes
• Never Fully Translated Before
• Sewn Binding & Headbands
• First of over 30+ volumes to come
• A percentage of sales goes to further translations of other volumes
• Extensive discussion of Greek & Hebrew word meanings

Note: Customers ordering outside of the US should contact us to be notified of shipping rates.

Ireland, in its halcyon years, was commonly called the land of saints and scholars by a grateful Christendom. And, although the emerald isle, like other Catholic nations, had not only its peaks of sanctity but its lows of spiritual tepidity (as we see manifest everywhere today), the land of the Gaels has rarely, if ever, been without her martyrs. Be it at the hands of pagan Viking marauders, Puritan savages or the rapacious imperialists of perfidious Albion, Ireland has drunk from the Lord’s chalice deeply and often. This stirring account of a very crucial period in Irish history was written by historian Timothy T. O’Donnell, a worthy son of the illustrious O’Donnell clan, who now serves as president of Christendom College. With that Catholic reverence that only a filial piety nurtured in the holy Faith can generate, the author brings to life a somewhat obscure slice of Irish history that ought to stand out prominently in the annals of heroic struggles against draconian injustice. This is the story of the Catholic uprising of the three Hughs: Hugh O’Donnell, Red Hugh, his valiant son, and Hugh O’Neill, Earl of Tyrone, master dissembler and cunning diplomat, whom Queen Elizabeth preferred to call "Beelzebub." Beginning in 1595, the war for liberty and the reign of Christ the King grew in strength victory by victory, such wise that by 1599 all of Ireland was ruled by native Irishmen as an independent Catholic Kingdom. It was to be a short-lived independence ending with the pathos of the "Flight of the Earls" in 1603 and the toxic murder in Spain of Red Hugh, "the son of prophecy," by an English spy. The battle cry of the mighty warriors of "The O’Donnell," Red Hugh, may now be silent, though not ever silenced: "Papa Aboo!" (The Pope to victory!) For in Gaelic hearts "the visible King" of the isle will forever be the Vicar of Christ.

Isabel of Spain has always captivated historians, pro and con. According to historian Warren Carroll, she was not only the greatest woman monarch to rule in Christendom, but she is also eminently canonizable. A woman of prayer and courageous action, she was also a devoted wife and mother. Spain was far from a great Catholic country when Isabel came to full power in 1474. After eight hundred years of Moslem occupancy, much of the country was still under the enemy’s yoke. Even before she had married Prince Ferdinand of Aragon and united the country, the Princess of Castile had managed to restore order and discipline to her own morally dissipated province. After the reconquest of Granada, the Moslem’s last stronghold, she had the liberty to finance the expedition of Columbus. Many of her other virtues are chronicled by Doctor Carroll: her patience in suffering, her endurance of betrayals, and, most importantly, her unmitigating support for, and oftentimes her personal initiation of, ecclesiastical reform.

Never have you seen in print a book in the English language which captures so gloriously the triumphs of a chastised Church during the height of the French revolution’s three year Reign of Terror. A nation which prided itself on being the Church’s “Eldest Daughter” had nearly lost the Faith in the wake of the “Enlightenment” of the eighteenth century. A just king, Louis XVI, and his pious queen, Marie Antoinette, went bravely and separately to the scaffold with a prayer for their enemies on their lips, while a howling mob of twenty-thousand deranged libertarians cheered on the regicide. Among the forty-thousand Catholic victims of the revolution were sixteen Carmelite nuns, who sang the Veni Creator Spiritus as they consummated the final stage of a heavy blade’s ravenous conflict with the Cross. In The Guillotine and the Cross, Doctor Carroll not only presents the dark side of the bloodbath, but the inspirational as well.

In the late fifteenth century, Satan reigned in all his unmitigated cruelty in the very heart of what was to be the Americas. Only thirty some years later, the Queen of Heaven crushed his head, taking away his bloody government, and establishing in perpetuity the merciful reign of her very maternal and Immaculate Heart. Garnering his information from the best authentic sources, contemporary as well as modern, Warren H. Carroll weaves his tapestry of the true birth of Mexico in dramatic style.