Part 4

IN everything I must find self-denial and sacrifice; thus I feel that a letter will not bear fruit unless I write it with a certain reluctance, and solely through obedience. When conversing with a novice I am careful to mortify myself and to avoid asking her questions which would gratify my curiosity. If she commence to speak of something interesting, then, leaving it unfinished, pass to a subject wearisome to me, I take care not to remind her of the interruption, for it seems to me that one can do no good by self-seeking.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. X

GOD did not permit that our Mother should tell me to write down my poems according as I composed them, and I would not have liked to ask her, fearing lest that might be a fault against poverty. So I used to wait until the hour of free time, and it was not without extreme difficulty that I recalled to mind, at eight o'clock in the evening, what I had composed in the morning.

These little nothings are a martyrdom it is true, but we must be well on our guard not to lessen it by allowing ourselves, or seeking to be allowed, a thousand things which would render the religious life pleasant and comfortable.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

WHEN some one rings for us, or knocks at our door, we must mortify ourselves so as not even to do one stitch more before answering. I have practised that; and it is, I assure you, a source of peace.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

DO you know my Sundays and festivals? They are the days when the good God tries me the most.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

SŒUR Thérèse de l'Enfant Jesus says that she has not done any great penances: that is because her fervour counted as nothing those which were allowed her. It nevertheless happened that she became ill from wearing for too long a time a small iron cross, of which the sharp points were sunk into her flesh.

"That would not have befallen me from so slight a penance," she said afterwards, "if the good God had not wanted to make me understand that the macerations of the Saints are not intended for me, nor for the little souls who will tread the same path of spiritual childhood."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII

TO a novice whom she saw practise a little act of self-denial she said:

"You will be very glad to find that before you at the moment of death. What you have just done is more glorious than if, by some skilful measures, you had gained for the religious communities the good-will of the Government, and that all France applauded you as a Judith."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

TO another who was bewailing her want of courage:

"You complain of what should cause you the greatest happiness. Where would be your merit if you must fight only when you felt the courage? What matters it if you have none, provided that you act as if you had! If you feel too slothful to pick up a bit of thread, and that nevertheless you do it for the love of Jesus, you have more merit than if in a moment of fervour you were to accomplish something of far greater importance. So instead of being sorrowful, rejoice to see that in letting you feel your weakness the good Master provides you with an opportunity of gaining for Him a greater number of souls."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

BEING questioned as to her mode of sanctifying the repasts, Thérèse made answer:

"In the refectory we have but one only thing to do: to accomplish this so lowly act with thoughts uplifted. I declare to you that often it is in the refectory the sweetest aspirations of love come to me. Sometimes I am impelled to dwell on the thought that if our Divine Lord were in my place, with the fare set before Him as served to me, He would certainly partake of it . . . It is very probable that during His life on earth He tasted of the like food: _He ate bread, fruits, etc_. . . .

"Here are my simple little rubrics:

"I picture myself at Nazareth in the house of Holy Family. If I am served with, for instance, salad, cold fish, wine or anything of strong flavour, I offer it to St. Joseph. To the Blessed Virgin I give the hot portions, well-ripened fruits, etc.; and the feast-day fare, particularly corn-flour, rice, preserves, these I offer to the Child Jesus. Lastly, when a bad dinner is brought me I say gaily to myself: 'Today, my dear little child, all that is for you.'"

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

ONE fast-day when the Mother Prioress had ordered some special little thing by way of alleviation for Sœur Thérèse, a Sister relates that she surprised her in the act of seasoning this too palatable fare with wormwood.

Another time she saw her slowly drinking some particularly disagreeable physic, and exclaimed: "But be quick, drink that off at one draught!" "Oh no!" was the reply, "must I not take advantage of the trifling opportunities I meet with, to mortify myself a little, since it is forbidden me to look for greater?"

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

AN extremely interesting letter had been read one day at the recreation in the absence of Thérèse who later showed a desire to read it. Some time afterwards when returning the letter, she was begged to say what she thought regarding something which should especially have delighted her. She appeared embarrassed and then replied:

"The good God has asked of me this sacrifice because of the eagerness that I manifested the other day; I have not read it. . ."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

SHE told the novices: "At recreation more than elsewhere will you find occasions for the exercise of virtue. If you would reap great benefit, never go to it with any thought of your own recreation, but thinking of the recreation of others; practise therein total detachment from yourself. If, for instance, you are relating to one of the Sisters a story which seems to you interesting, and that she interrupts it to tell you something else, even though this may not at all interest you, listen to her as if it did, and do not try to return to your first subject. By so acting, you will go from the recreation room with great interior peace, and endued with fresh vigour in the practice of virtue, all because you have not sought to gratify yourself but to give pleasure to others. If one only knew what is gained by renouncing self in all things! . . ."

"You know it well; you have always acted thus?"

"Yes, I have forgotten self, I have tried not to seek myself in anything."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

OBEDIENCE

AS I had self-love as well as the love of what is right it was sufficient but once to tell me: "Such a thing should not be done," and I would have no desire to do it again.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. I

FROM what anxieties do we not free ourselves by making the vow of obedience! How happy are single-minded religious. Their sole guide being the will of Superiors, they are ever secure of going the right way without fear of error, should it even appear to them certain that the Superiors are mistaken. But when one ceases to consult the sure compass, the soul forthwith loses her way in arid paths where the waters of grace soon fail her.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX

DURING her illness the Infirmarian had recommended Sœur Thérèse to take a little walk in the garden every day for a quarter of an hour. For her, this advice was a command. One afternoon, a Sister seeing her walk with much difficulty said to her: "You would do far better to rest; in such circumstances walking can do you no good, you exhaust yourself, that is all."

"It is true," replied this child of Obedience, "but do you know what gives me strength? . . . Well! _I walk for a Missionary_. I think how some one of them far away, yonder, is perhaps exhausted in his apostolic journeyings, and to lessen his fatigue I offer mine to the good God."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII

POVERTY

AFTER I was clothed with the holy Habit abundant lights on religious perfection were granted me, chiefly regarding the vow of poverty. During my postulate I was pleased to have for my use, anything that was nice, and to find at my hand whatever was necessary. Jesus bore with this patiently, for He does not like to disclose all to the soul at once. He ordinarily gives His light little by little.

After Compline one evening I looked in vain for our lantern on the shelves appointed for them; it was the time of great silence, not possible therefore to ask for it back. I rightly supposed that a Sister believing she took her own had carried away ours; but must I spend a whole hour in the dark in consequence of this mistake? And just that evening I had intended doing much work. Without the interior light of grace I should assuredly have bewailed my loss, but with that light, instead of experiencing vexation I was happy in thinking that poverty consists in being deprived not only of things desirable, but of those also that are indispensable. And in the exterior darkness I found my soul illumined with divine light.

I was seized at this time with a genuine love for what was ugliest and least convenient, thus I was delighted when I saw the pretty little jug carried off from our cell, and received in its stead a large one, all chipped.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VII

A NOVICE expressed regret for having lent a pin which was very serviceable to her:

"Oh! how rich you are," replied Thérèse, "you cannot be happy."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

_"MAKE haste and come down: for this day I must abide in thy house."_ [1] Jesus tells us to come down; where, then, must we go? . . . At an earlier time the Jews asked Him: _"Master, where dwellest Thou."_ [2] And He said: _"The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air nests; but the Son of Man hath not where to lay His head."_ [3] Behold whereunto we must descend if we would serve as dwellings for Jesus: we must be so poor that we have not where to lay our head.

XIII LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE

[1] Luke, xix, 5 [2] John, i, 38. [3] Luke, ix, 58.

CONFIDENCE

WHAT offends Jesus, what wounds Him to the Heart, is want of confidence.

I LETTER TO HER COUSIN MARIE GUERIN

BELIEVING that I was born for glory, and seeking the means to attain to it, it was revealed to me interiorly that my glory would never be visible to mortal eyes but would consist in becoming a saint. This desire might well seem presumptuously bold, considering how imperfect I was, and how imperfect I am still after so many years in religion; and yet I feel ever the same audacious confidence of becoming a great saint. I count not on my merits, having none; but I trust in Him who is Virtue and Holiness itself. He alone it is who satisfied with my feeble efforts will raise me up even unto Himself, will clothe me with His merits and make me a saint.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IV

OURS is an age of inventions: nowadays, with the rich a lift saves the trouble of climbing the stairs. And I, fain would I too find a _lift_ to bear me up unto God, for I am too little to climb the rugged steps of perfection.

Then I turned to the Holy Scriptures, seeking from them an indication of this _lift_, the object of my desires; and I read these words which have issued from the very mouth of the Eternal Wisdom: _"Whosoever is a_ VERY LITTLE ONE, _let him come to me."_ [1] Then I drew nigh unto God divining truly that I had discovered what I sought: wishing however to know what He would do with the very little one, I continued my research and here is what I found: _"You shall be carried at the breast and upon the knees; as one whom the mother caresseth so will I comfort you."_ [2]

Ah, never came words more sweet, more tender, to gladden my soul. Thine arms then, O Jesus, are the _lift_ which must raise me up even unto Heaven! For this I need not grow, on the contrary I must remain little, I must ever tend to become yet more little. O my God, Thou hast gone beyond my expectations, and I--I will sing Thy mercies! _Thou hast taught me, O God from my youth: and till now I have declared Thy wondrous works. And unto old age and grey hairs_ [3] will I proclaim them.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX

[1] Prov., ix, 4. [2] Is., lxvi, 12, 13. [3] _Cf_. Ps., lxx. 17, 18.

SINCE it has been given to me too, to understand the love of the Heart of Jesus, I own that it has chased all fear from mine! The remembrance of my faults humiliates me, and urges me never to depend upon my own strength which is nothing but weakness: still more does this remembrance speak to me of mercy and of love. When, with all filial confidence we cast our faults into the devouring furnace of love, how should they not be totally consumed?

V LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"

THOUGH we must needs be pure indeed to appear in the presence of the God of all Holiness, yet I know too that He is infinitely just; and this justice which affrights so many souls is the ground of my joy and my confidence. Justice not merely exercises severity towards the offender; it moreover recognizes a right intention, and awards to virtue its recompense. I hope as much from the Justice of the good God as from His Mercy; it is because He is just, that _"He is compassionate and merciful, long-suffering and plenteous in mercy. For He knoweth our frame. He remembereth that we are but dust. As a father hath compassion on His children, so hath the Lord compassion on us!"_ [4] . . .

Listening to these beautiful and consoling words of the Royal Prophet, how can we doubt but that the good God will open the portals of His Kingdom to His children who have loved Him even unto sacrificing all for Him, who have not only left their kindred and their country, for the sake of making Him known and loved, but, still further, desire to give their life for Him? . . . Most truly has Jesus said that there is no greater love than this! How then could He suffer Himself to be outdone in generosity? How could He purify in the flames of Purgatory souls consumed by the fire of Divine Love? . . .

That is what I think of the justice of the good God; my way is all confidence and love, I do not understand those souls who fear so tender a Friend.

VI LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"

[4] Ps., cii, 8, 13, 14.

THAT joy to think that God is just, that is to say, that He takes our weakness into consideration, that He thoroughly knows the frailty of our nature. Of what then, should I be afraid? Must not the good and infinitely just God, who with such tender mercy deigns to pardon the Prodigal Son, must He not be just towards me too--_who am always with Him?_ [5]

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII

[5] Luke, xv, 31.

I WANT to make you understand by a very simple comparison how much Jesus loves souls, even the imperfect, who trust in Him. Suppose the father of two wayward and disobedient children, coming to punish them, sees one tremble and draw away from him in terror; while the other, on the contrary, throwing himself into his arms, says he is sorry, promises to be good henceforward and begs for a kiss as punishment. Do you think the delighted father will withstand the filial confidence of this child? He knows nevertheless that his son will fall again many a time into the same faults, but he is disposed to pardon him always, if always there be an appeal to his heart.

I say nothing of the other child: you must understand that his father cannot love him as much or treat him with the same indulgence.

VIII LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"

TRULY the Heart of Jesus is more grieved by the thousand little imperfections of His friends than by even grave faults of His enemies. But it seems to me that it is only when His own chosen ones make a habit of these infidelities, and do not ask His pardon, that He can say: _"These wounds which you see in the midst of My Hands: with these was I wounded in the house of them that loved Me."_ [6]

For those who love Him and who come after each little fault and throw themselves into His arms, begging His forgiveness, the Heart of Jesus thrills with joy. He says to His Angels what the father of the prodigal son said to His servants: _"Put a ring on his finger and let us rejoice."_ [7] Oh! the goodness and the merciful love of the Heart of Jesus, how little is it known! True it is, that to share in these treasures we must humble ourselves, must acknowledge our nothingness, and that is what many souls are unwilling to do.

VII LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"

[6] _Cf_. Zach., xiii, 6. [7] _Cf_. Luke, xv, 22.

OUR dreams, our desires of perfection are not vain imaginations, since Jesus Himself has given us this commandment, He said: _"Be you, therefore, perfect, as also your Heavenly Father is perfect."_ [8]

II LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE

[8] Matt., v, 48.

TRULY I am far from being a saint. I ought not to rejoice at the aridity of my soul, but attribute it to the scantiness of my fervour and fidelity. I ought to grieve because I fall asleep very often during my prayer and my thanksgiving. Well, I do not grieve! I reflect that little children when they sleep are as pleasing to their parents as when they are awake; that in order to perform operations, doctors put their patients to sleep; in fine, that _the Lord knoweth our frame, He remembereth that we are but dust._ [9]

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII

[9] Ps., cii, 14.

I HAVE no fear of the last combats, nor of the physical suffering how great soever it may be. The good God has always come to my assistance, He has helped me and led me by the hand from my earliest years . . . I count on Him . . . my sufferings may reach their furthest limits, but I am sure that He will never abandon me.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII

IT is confidence, and confidence alone, that must lead us to Love . . . Does not fear lead us rather to think of the rigid justice by which sinners are warned? But that is not the justice that Jesus will show to those who love Him.

VI LETTER TO SŒUR DU SACRÉ-CŒUR

O JESUS, suffer me to tell Thee that Thy Love reacheth even unto folly . . . What wilt Thou, in face of this folly, but that my heart dart upwards to Thee--how can my confidence have any bounds?

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI

IT is not because I have been shielded from mortal sin that I lift up my heart to God in trust and love. I feel that even if there lay upon my conscience all the crimes one could commit I should lose nothing of my confidence. Brokenhearted with compunction I would go and throw myself into the arms of my Saviour. I know that He cherished the Prodigal Son, I have heard His words to Mary Magdalene, to the adultress, to the Samaritan woman. No one could frighten me, for I know what to believe concerning His Mercy and His Love. I know that in one moment all that multitude of sins would disappear--as a drop of water cast into a red-hot furnace.

It is related in the Lives of the Fathers of the Desert that one of them converted a public sinner whose misdeeds scandalized the whole country. Touched by grace this sinful woman was following the saint into the desert, there to do rigorous penance, when, on the first night of her journey, before she had even reached the place of her retreat, the bonds of life were broken by the impetuosity of her loving contrition. The holy hermit at the same moment saw her soul borne by Angels into the Bosom of God.

That is truly a striking instance of what I want to express, but one cannot put these things into words. . .

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI

HAPPY indeed am I to die and go to Heaven, but when I think on those words of our Lord: _"Behold, I come quickly, and My reward is with Me, to render to every man according to his works,"_ [10] I reflect that He will be very much embarrassed as regards me: I have no works . . . Well, He will render to me ACCORDING TO HIS OWN WORKS!

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

[10] Apoc., xxii, 12.

[Picture of Saint Thérèse.] THE SERVANT OF GOD THERESE OF THE CHILD JESUS _The Little Flower of Jesus!_

ONE evening as they were telling her something which had been said at recreation, touching the responsibility of those who have the charge of souls, Sœur Thérèse de l'Enfant Jésus spoke these beautiful words: _"'To him that is little, mercy is granted.'_ [11] It is possible to remain _little_, even in the most important offices; and is it not written that at the end _the Lord will arise to save the meek and humble of the earth?_ [12] It says not to _judge_ but to _save_."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII

[11] Wisdom, vi, 7. [12] _Cf_. Ps., lxxv, 10.

A NOVICE questioning as to whether our Lord were not dissatisfied with her on account of her many miseries, Sœur Thérèse made answer:

"Set your mind at rest: He whom you have chosen as your Spouse possesses certainly every perfection that can be desired; but, if I may dare to say it, He has at the same time one great infirmity: _He is blind!_ And there is a science which He knows not, that of _calculation_. These two points which would be most lamentable deficiencies in an earthly spouse, render ours infinitely lovable. Were He to consider our sins and reckon with them, do you not think that in the face of all these sins He would cast us back into nothingness? But no, His love for us makes Him absolutely blind!

"See for yourself: if the greatest sinner on earth, at the hour of death repent of his transgressions and expire in an act of love, immediately, without calculating on the one hand the numerous graces abused by this unhappy man, nor on the other, all his crimes, Jesus sees nothing, counts nothing, but the penitent's last prayer, and delays not to receive him into the arms of His Mercy.

"But to render Him thus blind, to hinder Him from doing the least little bit of reckoning, we must know how to lay siege to His Heart; at that point He is defenceless. . ."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

TO another, who bitterly repented of a fault just committed, Sœur Thérèse said:

"Take your Crucifix and kiss it."

The novice kissed the feet.

"Is that how a child embraces her Father? Put your arms round His Neck immediately and kiss His Face."

She obeyed.

"That is not all, He must return your caresses."

And she had to hold the Crucifix to each cheek; then Thérèse said:

"That is well, now all is forgiven!"

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

HAVING caused her pain, a novice went to ask pardon of Sœur Thérèse, who replied with emotion: "If you only knew what I feel! Never have I so well understood with what love Jesus receives us, when, after a fault we beg Him to forgive us. If I, His poor little creature, feel such tenderness for you the moment you return to me, what must pass in the Heart of the good God when we return to Him? . . . Yes, surely, more swiftly yet than I have just done, will He forget all our iniquities, never again to remember them . . . He will do even more--He will love us still better than before our fault! . . . "

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

SELF-ABANDONMENT

I CANNOT think without rapture of the dear little Saint Cæcilia: what a model! In the midst of a pagan world, in the heart of danger, at the moment when about to be united to a mortal who sought none but earthly love, it seems to me that she ought to have trembled and wept. But no, _while her bridal was celebrated with joyful melody Cæcilia was singing in her heart_. [1] What abandonment to God! Without doubt she listened to other melodies than those of earth; her Divine Spouse, He too, was singing, and Angel choirs sang again the refrain of one most blessed night: _"Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to men of good will."_ [2]

The glory of God!--Oh! Cæcilia understood it; most earnestly did she long for it. She divined that her Jesus was athirst for souls . . . that is why her whole desire was that she might lead speedily to Him the soul of the young Roman, who dreamed of naught but human glory: this wise Virgin will make of him a martyr, and multitudes will follow in his footprints. She fears nothing: the Angels have promised and have sung of peace. She knows that the Prince of Peace is bound to protect her, to shield her virginity and to give to her its recompense. _"O how beautiful is the chaste generation!"_ [3]

XVII LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE