Thoughts of Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus

by Saint de Lisieux Thérèse

THOUGHTS

OF SAINT THÉRÈSE
OF THE CHILD JESUS

[LOVE OF GOD]

JESUS! . . . I would so love Him! Love Him as never yet He has been loved. . .

IV LETTER TO MÈRE AGNÈS DE JÉSUS
(Her sister Pauline.)

THE science of love! Sweet is the echo of that word to the ear of my soul. I desire no other science. Having given all my substance for it, like the spouse in the Canticles, I think that I have given nothing. [1]

HISTOIRE D'UNE AME, CH. VIII

[1] Cant., viii, 7.

WITHOUT love, deeds, even the most brilliant, count as nothing.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII

ONE evening, at a loss for words to tell Jesus how I loved Him and how much I wished that He might be everywhere served and glorified, I reflected with pain that not one act of love would ever mount upwards from out of the depths of hell. Then I cried out that willingly would I consent to see myself plunged into that place of torment and blasphemy, in order that He might be loved there eternally. That could not really glorify Him since He desires only our happiness, but love makes one want to say a thousand foolish things. If I spoke thus, it was not that I did not long for heaven; but then, my heaven was none other than Love, and in my fervour I felt that nothing could separate me from the Divine object of my love. . .

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. V

SEEING the eternal recompense so disproportionate to the trifling sacrifices of this life, I longed to love Jesus, to love Him ardently, to give Him a thousand proofs of tenderness while yet I could do so. . .

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. V

THE love of God reveals itself in the very simplest soul who resists His grace in nothing, as well as in the most sublime. Indeed, the characteristic of love being to humble itself, if all souls resembled those of the holy Doctors who have enlightened the Church, the good God would not seem to descend low enough in coming to them. But He has created the infant who knows nothing and can only wail; He has created the poor savage who has but the natural law for guidance, and it is even unto their hearts that He deigns to stoop.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. I

IN order that Love may be fully satisfied it must needs stoop to very nothingness and transform that nothing into fire.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI

IN times of aridity when I am incapable of praying, of practising virtue, I seek little opportunities, mere trifles, to give pleasure to Jesus; for instance a smile, a pleasant word when inclined to be silent and to show weariness. If I find no opportunities, I at least tell Him again and again that I love Him; that is not difficult and it keeps alive the fire in my heart. Even though this fire of love might seem to me extinct I would still throw little straws upon the embers and I am certain it would rekindle.

XVI LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE

ON the day of my conversion Charity entered into my heart and with it a yearning to forget self always; thenceforward I was happy.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. V

I DO not will that creatures should possess a single atom of my love; I wish to give all to Jesus, since He makes me understand that He alone is perfect happiness. All shall be for Him, all! And even when I have nothing to offer Him I will give Him that nothing.

II LETTER TO MÈRE AGNÈS DE JÉSUS

OUR Lord is more tender than a mother, and well do I know more than one maternal heart! I know a mother is ever ready to forgive the little involuntary failings of her child.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII

I KNOW of one means only by which to attain to perfection: LOVE. Let us love, since our heart is made for nothing else. Sometimes I seek another word to express Love, but in this land of exile the word which begins and ends [2] is quite incapable of rendering the vibrations of the soul; we must then adhere to this simple and only word: TO LOVE.

But on whom shall our poor heart lavish its love? Who shall be found that is great enough to be the recipient of its treasures? Will a human being know how to comprehend them, and above all will he be able to repay? There exists but one Being capable of comprehending love; it is Jesus; He alone can give us back infinitely more than we shall ever give to Him.

LETTER TO HER COUSIN MARIE GUÉRIN

[2] St. Augustine.

THERE is one ONLY THING to do here below: to love Jesus, to win souls for Him so that He may be loved. Let us seize with jealous care every least opportunity of self-sacrifice. Let us refuse Him nothing—He does so want our love!

VI LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE

WHEN we really love, we rejoice in the happiness of the loved one and make every sacrifice to procure it for him.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

TRUE love is nourished by sacrifice, and the more the soul denies itself natural satisfactions, the stronger and the more disinterested becomes its tenderness.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

THE good God does not need years to accomplish His work of love in a soul; one ray from His Heart can, in an instant, make His flower bloom for eternity. . .

VI LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE

LOVE can supply for length of years. Jesus, because He is Eternal, regards not the time but only the love.

V LETTER TO MÈRE AGNÈS DE JÉSUS

I DESIRE no sensible consolation in loving; provided Jesus feel my love that is enough for me. Oh! to love Him and to make Him loved . . . how sweet it is. . .

V LETTER TO MÈRE AGNÈS DE JÉSUS

O JESUS, I ask of Thee only Peace! . . . Peace, and above all LOVE—love without bound or limit. Jesus, let me for Thy sake die a martyr; give me martyrdom of soul or body. Ah! rather give me both the one and the other!

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII

I HAVE no longer any desire unless it be to love Jesus even to folly! Yes, LOVE it is that draws me. I can say these words of the canticle of our Father, St. John of the Cross:

In the inmost cellar
Of my Beloved have I drunk; and when I went forth
Over all the plain
I knew nothing,
And lost the flock I followed before.
My soul is occupied
And all my substance in His service;
Now I guard no flock,
Nor have I any other employment:
My sole occupation is love.

(Spiritual Canticle, Trans. D. Lewis.)

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII

OH! if souls weak and imperfect as mine, felt what I feel, not one would despair of reaching the summit of the mountain of Love, since Jesus does not demand from us great deeds, but only self-surrender and gratitude.

I have no need, saith He, of the goats of thy flocks . . . If I were hungry I would not tell thee . . . Offer unto God the sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving. [3]

See then, all that Jesus asks of us! He has not need of our works but only of our love. This very God who declares that He needs not to tell us if He were hungry, did not hesitate to beg of the Samaritan woman a little water . . . He thirsted!!! But in saying: "Give me to drink," [4] it was the love of His poor creature that the Creator of the universe besought. He thirsted for Love!

And now, more than ever is Jesus athirst. He meets with none but the ungrateful and the indifferent among the disciples of the world; and amongst His own disciples He finds, alas! very few hearts that surrender themselves without any reserve to the tenderness of His infinite Love.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI

[3] Cf. Ps. xlix, 9, 12, 14.
[4] John, iv, 7.

Since ever I have known Love's mighty power
Thus hath it wrought its work within my soul—
Whate'er it findeth there, or good or ill,
It turneth all to gain; its living flame
Transforms my soul into its very self. [5]

[5] St. John of the Cross.

HOW sweet is the way of Love! True, one may fall, one may not be always faithful, but Love, knowing how to draw profit from all, very quickly consumes whatsoever may displease Jesus, leaving naught but humble and profound peace in the innermost soul.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII

THINKING one day of those who offer themselves as victims to the Justice of God in order to turn aside the punishment reserved for sinners by taking it upon themselves, I felt this offering to be noble and generous, but I was far from feeling moved to make it.

"O my Divine Master," I cried in the depths of my heart, "shall Thy Justice alone receive victims of holocaust? Has not Thy Merciful Love also need of them? On all sides it is ignored, rejected . . . the hearts on which Thou wouldst lavish it turn to creatures, seeking happiness in miserable and fleeting affections instead of casting themselves into Thine arms, into the ineffable furnace of Thine Infinite Love.

"O my God, must Thy Love—disdained—remain within Thy Heart? Methinks that if Thou shouldst find souls offering themselves as victims of holocaust to Thy Love, Thou wouldst consume them rapidly; that Thou wouldst be glad not to restrict the flames of infinite tenderness pent up within Thee.

"If Thy Justice—the Justice which Thou dost exercise on earth—be pleased to find voluntary victims on which to discharge its weight, how much the more must Thy Merciful Love also desire its victims, since Thy Mercy reacheth even to heaven. [6]

"O Jesus, that happily I may be that holocaust consume Thy little victim in the fire of Divine Love."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII

[6] Cf. Ps. xxxv, 6.

AH! since that day love penetrates me and surrounds me; this Merciful Love each moment renews and purifies me, leaving in my heart no trace of sin. No, I cannot fear Purgatory; I know that I do not merit even to enter with the Holy Souls into that place of expiation, but I know too that the fire of Love is more sanctifying than the fire of Purgatory, I know that Jesus cannot will needless suffering for us, and that He would not inspire me with the desires I feel if He were unwilling to fulfil them.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII

TO offer oneself as a Victim to Divine Love is not to offer oneself to sweetness—to consolation; but to every anguish, every bitterness, for Love lives only by sacrifice; and the more a soul wills to be surrendered to Love, the more must she be surrendered to suffering.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII

IN order to love Jesus, to be His victim of love, the more weak and miserable we are, the more fitting are we for the operations of this consuming and transforming Love . . . The sole desire to be victim suffices; but we must consent to remain always poor and without strength, and there lies the difficulty, for where shall be found the truly poor in spirit? He must be sought afar off, [7] saith the author of the Imitation . . . He did not say that we must seek him amongst great souls, but afar off, that is to say in lowliness, in nothingness . . . Oh! let us keep afar off from all that glitters, let us love our littleness, and be satisfied to feel nothing, then shall we be truly poor in spirit, and Jesus will come to seek us how far soever we may be; He will transform us into flames of Love! . . .

VI LETTER TO SŒUR MARIE DU SACRÉ-CŒUR
(Her sister Marie.)

[7] Cf. Imit., II, xi, 4.

TO be truly a Victim of Love requires absolute self-surrender. The soul is consumed by Love only in so far as she surrenders herself to Love.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

IT appears to me that for Victims of Love there will be no judgment, but rather, that the good God will hasten to recompense with eternal delights His own Love, which He will see burning in their hearts.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

AT any cost I will cull the palm of Saint Agnes; if not by shedding my blood then it must be by Love. . .

IV LETTER TO MÈRE AGNÈS DE JÉSUS

O MY God, Thou knowest I have never desired but to love Thee alone. I seek no other glory. Thy Love has gone before me from my childhood, it has grown with my growth, and now it is an abyss the depths of which I cannot fathom.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI

LOVE attracts love, mine rushes forth unto Thee, it would fain fill up the abyss which attracts it; but alas! it is not even as one drop of dew lost in the Ocean. To love Thee as Thou lovest me I must borrow Thy very love—then only, can I find rest.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI

JUST as a torrent sweeps along with it unto the depths of the sea whatsoever it encounters on its course, even so, my Jesus, does the soul which plunges into the boundless ocean of Thy Love draw after her all her treasures. Lord, Thou knowest that for me these treasures are the souls it has pleased Thee to unite to mine.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI

CHARITY gave me the key to my vocation. I understood that the Church being a body composed of different members, the most essential, the most noble of all the organs would not be wanting to her; I understood that the Church has a heart and that this heart is burning with love; that it is love alone which makes the members work, that if love were to die away apostles would no longer preach the Gospel, martyrs would refuse to shed their blood. I understood that love comprises all vocations, that love is everything, that it embraces all times and all places because it is eternal!

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI

O MY Well-Beloved! I understand to what combats Thou hast destined me; it is not on the battle field that I shall fight . . . I am prisoner of Thy Love; freely have I riveted the chain which unites me to Thee and separates me for ever from the world. My sword is LOVE; with it I shall chase the stranger from the kingdom, I shall make Thee to be proclaimed King in the souls of men.

HIST. D'UNE AME, APPENDIX

LOVE! . . . that is what I ask . . . I know but one thing now—to love Thee, O Jesus! Glorious deeds are not for me, I cannot preach the Gospel, shed my blood . . . what does it matter? My brothers toil instead of me, and I, the little child, I keep quite close to the royal throne, I love for those who fight.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI

HOW shall I show my love since love is proved by deeds? Well,—the little child will strew flowers . . . she will embalm the Divine Throne with their fragrance, will sing with silvery voice the canticle of love.

Yes, my Beloved, it is thus that my life's brief day shall be spent before Thee. No other means have I of proving my love than to strew flowers; that is, to let no little sacrifice escape me, not a look, not a word, to avail of the very least actions and do them for Love. I wish to suffer for Love's sake and for Love's sake even to rejoice; thus shall I strew flowers. Not one shall I find without shedding its petals for Thee . . . and then I will sing, I will always sing, even if I must gather my roses in the very midst of thorns—and the longer and sharper the thorns the sweeter shall be my song.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI

SŒUR Thérèse de l'Enfant Jésus often spoke of a well-known toy with which in childhood's days she had amused herself: a kaleidoscope; in form somewhat like a small telescope; on looking through, one sees an endless succession of pretty and many-coloured designs, varying at each turn of the kaleidoscope.

"This toy," she said, "aroused my admiration and I used to wonder what could produce so pleasing a phenomenon; when one day, after serious examination, I saw there were simply a few tiny scraps of paper and of wool cut no matter how, and thrown here and there. I pursued my investigation and discovered three mirrors inside the tube: I had there the key to the problem.

"This was for me the image of a great mystery. As long as our actions, even the least of them, remain within the focus of Love, the Blessed Trinity, which is figured by the three mirrors, reflects them, and endows them with a wondrous beauty. Jesus, looking at us through the little lens, that is to say, as it were through Himself, finds all our actions pleasing to Him. But if we leave the ineffable centre of Love, what will He see? Mere straws . . . actions sullied and nothing worth."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

THIS little prayer which includes all my desires I ask you to say for me each day:

"Merciful Father, in the name of Thy sweet Jesus, of the Blessed Virgin and of the Saints, I pray Thee that my sister be fired with Thy spirit of love, and that Thou wilt grant her the grace to make Thee greatly loved."

If God should take me soon to Himself, I ask you to continue each day this same prayer, for in Heaven my desire will be the same as upon earth; to love Jesus and to make Him loved.

III LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"

SHE was looking at the sky one day when some one remarked to her:

"Very soon you will dwell beyond the blue sky; with what love you contemplate it!"

She merely smiled, but afterwards said to the Mother Prioress:

"Mother, our Sisters little know what I suffer! Looking at the blue sky I was thinking only of the beauty of the material heavens; the other is more and more closed to me . . . I was at first distressed by that remark, then an interior voice answered: 'Yes, through love thou didst look at the heavens. Since thy soul is wholly consecrated to Love, all thy actions, even the most indifferent, bear the impress of this divine seal.' I was instantly consoled."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII

UNTIL two days before her death she wished to be alone at night, however, notwithstanding her entreaties, the Infirmarian used to rise several times to visit her. On one occasion she found our little invalid with hands clasped and eyes raised to Heaven.

"But what are you doing?" she asked; "you should try to sleep."

"I cannot, dear Sister, I suffer too much! then I pray. . ."

"And what do you say to Jesus?"

"I say nothing, I love Him!"

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII

A SISTER was speaking to her of the happiness of Heaven: Thérèse interrupted, saying:

"It is not that which attracts me. . ."

"What is it then?"

"Oh! it is LOVE! To love, to be beloved, and to come back to earth to make LOVE loved."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII

LOVE alone have I ever given to the good God, with love He will repay me.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII

ALL that I have written regarding my desire of suffering is most true; oh! I do not repent of having surrendered myself to Love.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII

JESUS! Jesus! if it be so sweet to desire Thy Love, what will it be to possess and to enjoy it for ever!

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI

O JESUS! could I but tell all little souls of Thine ineffable condescension! . . . I feel that if it were possible to find one more weak than mine Thou wouldst take delight in showering upon her greater favours still, provided that she abandoned herself with entire confidence to Thine Infinite Mercy.

But why these desires, O my Beloved, to impart the secrets of Thy Love? Is it not Thyself alone Who hast made them known to me and canst Thou not reveal them to others? Yes, I know it and I implore Thee to do so: I beseech Thee to let Thy divine gaze rest upon an immense number of little souls, I beseech Thee to choose in this world a Legion of little victims worthy of Thy Love!

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI

HER last words—looking at her crucifix:

"OH! . . . I LOVE HIM! . . . MY GOD, I . . . LOVE . . . THEE!!!"

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII

O MY God, Most Blessed Trinity, I desire to love Thee and to make Thee loved, to labour for the glory of Holy Church by saving souls still on earth and by delivering those who suffer in purgatory. I desire to accomplish Thy Will perfectly, and to attain to the degree of glory which Thou hast prepared for me in Thy Kingdom, in one word, I desire to be a saint, but I know that I am powerless, and I implore Thee, O my God, to be Thyself my sanctity.

Since Thou hast so loved me as to give me Thine only Son to be my Saviour and my Spouse, the infinite treasures of His merits are mine, to Thee I offer them with joy, beseeching Thee to see me only as in the Face of Jesus and in His Heart burning with Love.

Again, I offer Thee all the merits of the Saints—in Heaven and on earth—their acts of love and those of the holy Angels; and finally I offer Thee, O Blessed Trinity, the love and the merits of the Holy Virgin, my most dear Mother; it is to her I entrust my oblation, begging her to present it to Thee.

Her Divine Son, my well-beloved Spouse, during His life on earth, told us: "If you ask the Father anything in My Name He will give it to you." [8] I am then certain that Thou wilt hearken to my desires . . . My God, I know it, the more Thou willest to give the more dost Thou make us desire. Immense are the desires that I feel within my heart, and it is with confidence that I call upon Thee to come and take possession of my soul. I cannot receive Thee in Holy Communion as often as I would; but, Lord, art Thou not Almighty? . . . Remain in me as in the Tabernacle—never leave Thy little Victim.

I long to console Thee for the ingratitude of the wicked and I pray Thee take from me the liberty to displease Thee! If through frailty I fall sometimes, may Thy Divine glance purify my soul immediately, consuming every imperfection—like to fire which transforms all things into itself.

I thank Thee, O my God, for all the graces Thou hast bestowed on me, and particularly for making me pass through the crucible of suffering. It is with joy I shall behold Thee on the Last Day bearing Thy sceptre—the Cross; since Thou hast deigned to give me for my portion this most precious Cross, I have hope of resembling Thee in Heaven and seeing the sacred stigmata of Thy Passion shine in my glorified body.

After exile on earth I hope to enjoy the possession of Thee in our eternal Fatherland, but I have no wish to amass merits for Heaven, I will work for Thy Love alone, my sole aim being to give Thee pleasure, to console Thy Sacred Heart, and to save souls who will love Thee for ever.

At the close of life's evening I shall appear before Thee with empty hands, for I ask not, Lord, that Thou wouldst count my works . . . All our justice is tarnished in Thy sight. It is therefore my desire to be clothed with Thine own Justice and to receive from Thy Love the eternal possession of Thyself. I crave no other Throne nor other Crown but Thee, O my Beloved! . . .

In Thy sight time is nothing, one day is as a thousand years. [9] Thou canst in an instant prepare me to appear before Thee.

That I may live in one Act of perfect Love, I OFFER MYSELF AS A VICTIM OF HOLOCAUST TO THY MERCIFUL LOVE, imploring Thee to consume me without ceasing, and to let the tide of infinite tenderness pent up in Thee, overflow into my soul, that so I may become a very martyr of Thy Love, O my God!

May this martyrdom, having first prepared me to appear before Thee, break life's thread at last, and may my soul take its flight, unretarded, into the eternal embrace of Thy Merciful Love.

I desire, O Well-Beloved, at every heart-beat to renew this Oblation an infinite number of times, till the shadows retire [10] and I can tell Thee my love eternally face to face!

[Signed]

MARIE-FRANÇOISE-THÉRÉSE
DE L'ENFANT JÉSUS ET DE LA SAINTE FACE
Rel. Carm. ind.

Feast of The Most Holy Trinity.
The 9th of June in the year of grace, 1895.

[8] John, xvi, 23.
[9] Cf. Ps. lxxxix, 4.
[10] Cant., iv, 6.

[LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR]

THERE are moments when we are so wretched within, that we must needs hurry away from ourselves. The good God does not oblige us to remain at such times in our own company; indeed He often permits that it should be displeasing to us just that we may leave it. And I see no other means of going out of ourselves than by going to visit Jesus and Mary, that is, hastening to deeds of charity.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

I APPLIED myself above all to practise quite hidden little acts of virtue; thus I liked to fold the mantles forgotten by the Sisters, and sought a thousand opportunities of rendering them service.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VII

HAD I been rich I never could have borne to see a poor person hungry without giving him to eat. It is the same in my spiritual life: knowing there are souls on the point of falling into Hell, I give them my treasures according as I earn anything, and I have never yet found a moment to say: "Now I am going to work for myself."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

I FEEL that when I am charitable it is Jesus alone who acts in me; the more I am united to Him the more do I love all my Sisters. If, when I desire to increase this love in my heart, the demon tries to set before my eyes the faults of one or other of the Sisters, I hasten to call to mind her virtues, her good desires; I say to myself that if I have seen her fall once, she may well have gained many victories which she conceals through humility; and that even what appears to me a fault may in truth be an act of virtue by reason of the intention.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX

TRUE Charity consists in bearing with all the defects of our neighbour, in not being surprised at his failings, and in being edified by his least virtues; Charity must not remain shut up in the depths of the heart, for no man lighteth a candle and putteth it under a bushel, but upon a candlestick, that it may shine to all that are in the house. [1] It seems to me that this candle represents the Charity which ought to enlighten and make joyful, not only those who are dearest to me, but all who are in the house.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX

[1] Cf. Matt., v, 15.

TTHERE is no artist who does not like his work praised, and the Divine Artist of souls is pleased when we do not stop at the exterior, but penetrating even to the inmost sanctuary which He has chosen for His dwelling, we admire its beauty.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX

I OUGHT to seek the company of those Sisters who according to nature please me least. I ought to fulfil in their regard the office of the Good Samaritan. A word, a kindly smile, will often suffice to gladden a wounded and sorrowful heart.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. X

OH! what peace inundates the soul when she rises above natural sentiment. No joy can compare with that known to one who is truly poor in spirit. If he ask with detachment for some necessary thing, and it is not only refused him, but an attempt made besides to deprive him of what he already has, he follows the counsel of our Lord: "And if a man will contend with thee in judgment and take away thy coat, let go thy cloak also unto him." [2]

To yield up our cloak means, I think, to renounce our last rights, to consider oneself as the servant, the slave of others. When we have abandoned our mantle it is easier to walk, to run; therefore Jesus adds: "And whosoever will force thee one mile, go with him other two." [3]

It is not enough that I should give to whosoever may ask of me, I must forestall their desires, and show that I feel much gratified, much honoured in rendering service; and if they take a thing that I use, I must seem as though glad to be relieved of it.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX

[2] Matt., v, 40.
[3] Matt., v, 41.

IF it is hard to give to whoever asks, it is still harder to let what belongs to us be taken, without asking it back, or rather, I ought to say it seems hard; for the yoke of the Lord is sweet and light: [4] when we accept it we feel its sweetness immediately.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX

[4] Cf. Matt., xi, 30.

WHEN Charity is deeply rooted in the soul it shows itself exteriorly: there is so gracious a way of refusing what we cannot give, that the refusal pleases as much as the gift.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX

TO want to persuade our Sisters that they are in the wrong, even when it is perfectly true, is hardly fair, as we are not responsible for their guidance. We must not be Justices of the peace, but only angels of peace.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

JESUS wills that we give alms to Him as to one poor and needy. He puts Himself as it were at our mercy; He will take nothing but what we give Him from our heart, and the very least trifle is precious in His sight. He stretches forth His Hand, this sweet Saviour, to receive of us a little love, so that in the radiant day of Judgment He may be able to address to us those ineffable words: "Come, ye blessed of My Father; for I was hungry, and you gave Me to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me to drink; I was a stranger, and you took Me in; sick and you visited Me; I was in prison, and you came to Me." [5]

XV LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE

[5] Matt., xxv, 34-36.

IF I were still to live, the office of Infirmarian is the one which would please me most. I would not ask for it, but if it came direct by obedience I should think myself highly privileged. It seems to me that I would discharge its duties with a tender love, thinking always of our Saviour saying: "I was sick and you visited me." [6] The Infirmary bell should be for you as Heavenly music. You ought purposely to pass along beneath the windows of the sick to give them facility in calling you and asking your services. Ought you not to consider yourself like a little slave whom everyone has a right to command? If you could but see the Angels who from the heights of Heaven watch you battling in the arena! They await the end of the combat to cover you with flowers and wreaths. The good God does not disdain these combats, unknown and therefore all the more meritorious. "The patient man is better than the valiant, and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh cities." [7]

By our little acts of charity practised in the shade we convert souls far away, we help missionaries, we win for them abundant alms; and by that means build actual dwellings spiritual and material for our Eucharistic Lord.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

[6] Matt., xxv, 36.
[7] Prov., xvi, 32.

A NOVICE remarked to Sœur Thérèse: "I do not like to see others suffer, especially saintly souls." She replied instantly:

"Oh! I am not like you: to see saints suffer never moves me to pity! I know they have the strength to endure, and they thus give great glory to God: but those who are not holy, who know not how to profit by their sufferings, oh! how I pity them; they do indeed arouse my compassion, and I would do all I could to comfort and help them."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

SEEING her extreme weakness the doctor ordered some strengthening remedies; Sœur Thérèse was distressed at first on account of their high price: then she said to us: "I am no longer grieved about taking these costly remedies, for I have been reading that St. Gertrude rejoiced at the thought that all would be to the advantage of those who do us good, since our Lord has said: 'As long as you did it unto one of these My least brethren you did it unto Me.'" [8]

She added: "I am convinced of the uselessness of medicine for the purpose of curing me, but I have made a compact with the good God, that He is to allow some poor Missionaries to profit by it, who have neither time nor means to take care of themselves."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII

[8] Matt., xxv, 40.

REMEMBERING that Charity covereth a multitude of sins, [9] I draw from this fruitful mine opened to us by our Lord in His sacred Gospels. I search the depths of His adorable words and cry out with David: "I have run in the way of Thy commandments when Thou didst enlarge my heart." [10] And charity alone can enlarge my heart . . .

O Jesus! since this sweet flame consumes it I run with delight in the way of Thy new Commandment, and therein will I run until the blessed day when with Thy Virgin train I shall follow Thee through Thy boundless Realm singing Thy New Canticle which must surely be the Canticle of LOVE.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX

[9] Prov., x, 12.
[10] Ps., cxviii, 32.

[FAITH]

WHAT helps me most when I picture to myself the interior of the Holy Family is to think of a quite ordinary life.

The Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph knew well that Jesus was God, but wondrous things were nevertheless hidden from them and like us they lived by faith. Have you not noticed what is said in the sacred text: "And they understood not the word that He spoke unto them," [1] and these other words no less mysterious: "His father and mother were wondering at those things which were spoken concerning Him"? [2] Does not this imply that they heard of something new to them, for this wondering suggests a certain astonishment?

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

[1] Luke, ii, 50.
[2] Luke, ii, 33.

DURING her temptations against faith she wrote: "I strive to work by faith though bereft of its consolations. I have made more acts of Faith in this last year than during all the rest of my life.

"On each fresh occasion of combat, when the enemy desires to challenge me, I conduct myself valiantly: knowing that to fight a duel is an unworthy act, I turn my back upon the adversary without ever looking him in the face; then I run to my Jesus and tell Him I am ready to shed every drop of blood in testimony of my belief that there is a Heaven, I tell Him I am glad to be unable to contemplate, while on earth, with the eyes of the soul, the beautiful Heaven that awaits me so He will deign to open it for eternity to poor unbelievers."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX

HE whose Heart ever watcheth, taught me, that while for a soul whose faith equals but a tiny grain of mustard seed, he works miracles, in order that this faith which is so weak may be fortified; yet for His intimate friends, for His Mother, He did not work miracles until He had put their faith to the test. Did He not let Lazarus die though Martha and Mary had sent to tell Him that he was sick? At the marriage at Cana, the Blessed Virgin having asked Him to come to the assistance of the Master of the house, did He not reply that His hour was not yet come? But after the trial, what a recompense! Water changed to wine, Lazarus restored to life. . .

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VI

A SISTER said to her that beautiful Angels clothed in white robes, and of joyous and resplendent countenance, would bear away her soul to Heaven. She replied: "These imaginations do not help me: I can draw no sustenance except from the Truth. God and the Angels are pure Spirits, no one can see them as they really are, with corporal eyes. That is why I have never desired extraordinary favours. I would rather await the Eternal Vision."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

"I HAVE asked God to send me a beautiful dream to console me when you are gone," said a novice.

"Ah! that is a thing I should never do—ask for consolation! . . . Since you wish to be like me you well know that I say:

Oh! fear not, Lord, that I shall waken Thee:
I await in peace th' eternal shore. . .

"It is so sweet to serve the good God in the dark night of trial; we have this life only in which to live by faith."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

[HOPE]

TIME is but a shadow, a dream; already God sees us in glory and takes joy in our eternal beatitude. How this thought helps my soul! I understand then why He lets us suffer . . .

VIII LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE

A DAY . . . an hour . . . and we shall have reached the port! My God, what shall we see then? What is that life which will never have an end? . . . Jesus will be the soul of our soul. Unfathomable mystery! "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man what great things God hath prepared for them that love Him." [1] And this will all come soon—yes, very soon, if we ardently love Jesus.

VI LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE

[1] I Cor., ii, 9. Cf. Is., lxiv, 4.

LIFE is passing, Eternity draws nigh; soon shall we live the very life of God. After having drunk deep at the fount of bitterness, our thirst will be quenched at the very source of all sweetness.

Yes, the figure of this world passeth away, [2] soon shall we see new heavens; a more radiant sun will brighten with its splendours, ethereal seas and infinite horizons . . . We shall no longer be prisoners in a land of exile, all will be at an end and with our Heavenly Spouse we shall sail o'er boundless waters: now our harps are hung upon the willows that border the rivers of Babylon, [3] but in the day of our deliverance what harmonies will then be heard! With what joy shall we not make every chord of our instruments to vibrate! Today, we weep remembering Sion . . . how shall we sing the songs of the Lord in a strange land? [4]

V LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE

[2] I Cor., vii, 31.
[3] Cf. Ps. cxxxvi, 2.
[4] Cf. Ps., cxxxvi, 1, 4.

HOW I thirst for Heaven—that blessed habitation where our love for Jesus will have no limit! But to get there we must suffer . . . we must weep . . . Well, I wish to suffer all that shall please my Beloved, I wish to let Him do just as He wills with His "little ball."

V LETTER TO SR. MARIE DU SACRÉ-CŒUR

OH! What mysteries will be revealed to us later . . . How often have I thought that I perhaps owe all the graces showered upon me to the earnest prayer of a little soul whom I shall know only in Heaven. It is God's will that in this world by means of prayer Heavenly treasures should be imparted by souls one to another, so that when they reach the Fatherland they may love one another with a love born of gratitude, with an affection far, far exceeding the most ideal family affection upon earth.

There, we shall meet with no indifferent looks, because all the Saints will be indebted to each other.

No envious glances will be seen; the happiness of every one of the elect will be the happiness of all. With the Martyrs we shall be like to the Martyrs; with the Doctors we shall be as the Doctors; with the Virgins, as the Virgins; and just as the members of a family are proud of one another, so shall we be of our brethren, without the least jealousy.

Who knows even if the joy we shall experience in beholding the glory of the great Saints, and knowing that by a secret dispensation of Providence we have contributed thereunto, who knows if this joy will not be as intense and sweeter perhaps, than the happiness they will themselves possess.

And do you not think that on their side the great Saints, seeing what they owe to quite little souls, will love them with an incomparable love? Delightful and surprising will be the friendships found there—I am sure of it. The favoured companion of an Apostle or a great Doctor of the Church, will perhaps be a young shepherd lad; and a simple little child may be the intimate friend of a Patriarch. Oh! how I long to dwell in that Kingdom of Love . . .

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

A SISTER showed her a photograph representing Joan of Arc consoled in the prison by her Voices. Sœur Thérèse said: "I too am consoled by an interior voice. The Saints encourage me from above, they say to me: 'So long as thou art in fetters thou canst not fulfil thy mission; but later, after thy death—then will be the time of thy conquests.'"

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

IN Heaven the good God will do all I wish, because I have never done my own will upon earth.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

EVEN now I know it; yes, all my hopes will be fulfilled . . . yes . . . the Lord will work wonders for me which will surpass infinitely my immeasurable desires.

VIII LETTER TO MÈRE AGNÈS DE JÉSUS

[HUMILITY]

IT appears to me that humility is the truth. I know not whether I am humble, but I know that I see the truth in all things.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

I HAVE understood what true glory is. He whose Kingdom is not of this world [1] showed me that the only enviable royalty consists in loving to be unknown and esteemed as nothing, [2] and finding our joy in contempt of self. I wished that like the Face of Jesus, mine might be as it were hidden and despised. [3] That none upon earth might esteem me. I thirsted to suffer and to be forgotten.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VII

[1] John, xviii, 36.
[2] Imit., I, ii, 3.
[3] Is., liii, 3.

JJESUS made me understand that the true, the only glory is that which will last for ever; that to attain to it we need not perform wonderful deeds, but rather, those hidden from the eyes of others and from self, so that the left hand knoweth not what the right hand doth. [4]

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IV

[4] Matt., vi, 3.

THÉRÈSE is weak, very weak; of this she has new and salutary experience every day. But Jesus takes pleasure in teaching her how to glory in her infirmities. [5] It is a great grace this, for herein is found peace and tranquillity. When we see ourselves so miserable, we wish no longer to look at self but only on the Well-Beloved.

II LETTER TO HER COUSIN MARIE GUÉRIN

[5] II Cor., xi, 5.

I AM a very little soul who can offer only very little things to the good God; yet, it often happens that these little sacrifices which give such peace to the heart escape me; but that does not discourage me, I bear with having a little less peace and I try to be more watchful another time.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. X

VEILED in the white Host, O my Well-Beloved, how meek and humble of heart dost Thou show Thyself to me! Thou couldst not stoop lower to teach me humility, and I, to respond to Thy Love, desire to put myself in the lowest place and share Thy humiliations, that I may have part with Thee [6] in the Kingdom of Heaven.

I beseech Thee, my Jesus, to send me some humiliation every time that I shall attempt to put myself above others.

HIST. D'UNE AME, APPENDIX

[6] John, xiii, 8.

WHAT pleases the good God in my little soul is to see me love my littleness and my poverty, it is seeing the blind trust that I have in His Mercy.

VI LETTER TO SR. MARIE DU SACRÉ-CŒUR

TO draw near to Jesus we must be so little . . . Oh! how few souls aspire to be little and unknown. . .

XIV LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE

I AM no longer surprised at anything, nor do I grieve at seeing that I am frailty itself; on the contrary I glory in it, and expect to discover new imperfections in myself each day. These lights concerning my nothingness do me more good, I affirm, than lights regarding faith.

HIST D'UNE AME, CH. IX

WHEN we commit a fault we must not think it due to a physical cause, such as illness or the weather, we must attribute this fall to our imperfection, but without ever growing discouraged.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

SINCE Jesus has gone back to Heaven I can follow Him only by the path He has traced. Oh how luminous are His footprints—diffusing a divine sweetness . . . I have but to glance at the holy Gospels and immediately I inhale the fragrance of the life of Jesus, and I know which side to take. Not to the first place do I run but to the last. I let the Pharisee go up, and full of confidence I repeat the humble prayer of the publican. Above all I copy the example of Magdalene; her amazing, or rather, her loving audacity, which so touched the Heart of Jesus, charms my own.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI

WITH a simplicity that delights me my little Sisters, the novices, tell me of the interior combats I arouse in them, in what way they find me trying; they are no more embarrassed than if it were question of some one else, knowing that by acting thus, they greatly please me.

Ah! truly it is more than a pleasure, it is a delicious feast which replenishes my soul with joy. How can a thing so disagreeable to nature give such happiness? Had I not experienced it I could not have believed it.

One day when I had an ardent desire for humiliation, it happened that a young postulant so fully satisfied it, that the thought of Semei cursing David came to my mind and I repeated interiorly with the holy King: Yes, it is indeed the Lord who has commanded him to say all these things to me. [7]

Thus the good God takes care of me. He cannot always offer me the strength- giving bread of exterior humiliation, but from time to time He permits me to feast upon the crumbs that fall from the table of the children. [8] How great is His Mercy!

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. X

[7] Kings, xvi, 10.
[8] Mark, vii, 28.

ALL creatures might incline towards the little flower, admiring it and overwhelming it with their praise, but never would that add a shadow of vain satisfaction to the true joy of knowing itself to be a mere nothing in the sight of God.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX

BECAUSE I was little and weak, Jesus stooped down to me and tenderly instructed me in the secrets of His Love.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. V

I AM too little to have any vanity, I am also too little to know how to turn beautiful phrases so as to make it appear that I have a great deal of humility. I prefer to acknowledge simply that He that is mighty hath done great things to me; [9] and the greatest is His having shown me my littleness, my powerlessness for all good.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX

[9] Luke, i, 49.

THE only thing not subject to be envied is the lowest place, it is therefore this lowest place alone which is without vanity and affliction of spirit. Still, the way of a man is not always in his power [10] and sometimes we are surprised by a desire for that which glitters. Then, let us take our place humbly amongst the imperfect, deeming ourselves little souls whom the good God must sustain at each moment. As soon as He sees us truly convinced of our nothingness and we say to Him: My foot hath slipped: Thy mercy, O Lord, hath held me up, [11] He stretches out His Hand to us; but if we will attempt to do something grand, even under pretext of zeal, He leaves us alone. It is enough therefore that we humble ourselves, and bear our imperfections with sweetness: there, for us, lies true sanctity.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

[10] Cf. Jer., x, 23.
[11] Cf. Ps., xciii, 18.

THE most eloquent discourses would be incapable of inspiring one act of love without the grace that moves the heart.

See a beautiful, rose-tinted peach, of so sweet a savour that no craft of confectioner could produce nectar like it. Is it for the peach itself that God has created this lovely colour and delicate velvety surface? Is it for the sake of the peach that He has given it so delicious a flavour? No, it is for us; what alone belongs to it and forms the essence of its existence is its stone; it possesses nothing more.

Thus is Jesus pleased to lavish His gifts on some of His creatures, that through them He may draw to Himself other souls; but in His mercy He humiliates them interiorly, and gently constrains them to recognize their nothingness and His Omnipotence. These sentiments form in them, as it were, a kernel of grace, which Jesus hastens to develop for that blessed day when clothed with a beauty, immortal, imperishable, they shall without danger have place at the Celestial banquet.

XVI LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE

THE Apostles, without Jesus, laboured long—a whole night—without taking any fish; their toil was pleasing to Him but He wished to show that He alone can give anything. He asked only an act of humility: "Children, have you any meat?" [12] and St. Peter confesses his helplessness: "Lord we have laboured all night and have taken nothing." [13] It is enough! The Heart of Jesus is touched . . . . Perhaps if the Apostle had taken a few little fishes the Divine Master would not have worked a miracle; but he had nothing, and so through God's power and goodness his nets were soon filled with great fishes.

That is just our Lord's way. He gives as God, but He will have humility of heart.

XVII LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE

[12] John, xxi, 5.
[13] Luke, v, 5.

TO think ourselves imperfect, and others perfect—that is happiness. That creatures should recognize we are without virtue takes nothing from us, makes us no poorer; it is they who by this lose interior joy; for there is nothing sweeter than to think well of our neighbour.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

IT is a great joy to me, not only when others find me imperfect, but above all when I feel that so I am: compliments, on the contrary, cause me nothing but displeasure.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

A NOVICE confided to her that she made no progress and felt quite discouraged.

"Till the age of fourteen," said Therese, "I practised virtue without feeling its sweetness. I wished for suffering but had no thought of finding my joy therein; that is a grace which has been granted me later. My soul was like a beautiful tree whose blossoms no sooner opened than they fell.

"Offer to the good God the sacrifice of never gathering the fruits of your labours. If He so will that during your whole life you feel a repugnance to suffer and to be humiliated, if He permit that all the flowers of your desires and of your good-will fall to earth without fruit, be not troubled. At the moment of your death He will know well how to bring to perfection, in the twinkling of an eye, beautiful fruits on the tree of your soul.

"We read in the Book of Ecclesiasticus: 'There is an inactive man that wanteth help, is very weak in ability, and full of poverty: yet the eye of God hath looked upon him for good, and hath lifted him up from his low estate, and hath exalted his head: and many have wondered at him and have glorified God.

'Trust in God, and stay in thy place. For it is easy in the eyes of God, on a sudden to make the poor man rich. The blessing of God maketh haste to reward the just, and in a swift hour His blessing beareth fruit!'" [14]

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

[14] Ecclus., xi, 12, 13, 22, 23, 24.

"YOU have always been faithful to divine grace, have you not?"

"Yes, since the age of three I have refused nothing to the good God. Yet not mine the glory. See how the setting sun this evening gilds the topmost branches of the trees; even so does my soul appear to you—all bright and gilded, because it is exposed to Love's rays. If the Divine Sun withheld from me His rays, my soul would immediately become obscured and enveloped in darkness."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

"YOU really are a saint!" some one said to her.

"No, I am not a saint; I have never done the works of the Saints. I am a very, very little soul on whom the good God has outpoured the abundance of His grace. You will see in Heaven that I am telling you the truth."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

SHE said to the Prioress: "Mother, I feel that if I were unfaithful, if I committed but the very slightest infidelity, fearful troubles would follow, and I could no longer accept death with resignation."

And as the Mother Prioress showed surprise at hearing her speak thus, she continued:

"I mean an infidelity springing from pride. For instance, if I said: 'I have acquired such or such a virtue, I am able to practise it,' or, 'O my God, I love Thee too well—Thou knowest it—to dwell on one single thought against faith,' I feel that I should forthwith be assailed by the most dangerous temptations and should certainly be overcome by them.

"To avoid this calamity I have but to say humbly from the depths of my heart: 'O my God, I implore of Thee, suffer me not to be unfaithful!'

"I very well understand how St. Peter fell. He depended too confidently on the fervour of his feelings, instead of relying solely upon Divine strength. Had he said to Jesus: 'Lord, give me the strength to follow Thee even unto death,' that strength, I am quite sure would not have been refused him."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

"OH! when I think of all I have to acquire!" exclaimed a novice.

"Say, rather, to lose. Jesus, it is, who charges Himself with the care of filling your soul according as you free it from its imperfections. I plainly see that you are taking the wrong road, you will never arrive at the end of your journey. You wish to scale a mountain and the good God wants to make you descend: He is waiting for you low down in the fertile valley of humility."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

"WHEN I receive a reproof," said another, "I would rather have deserved it than be wrongfully accused."

"As for me," replied Thérèse, "I prefer being blamed unjustly, then I have no cause for self-reproach and I offer this unmerited blame to the good God with joy, then I humble myself at the thought that I should be quite capable of doing that of which I was accused."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

WHEN we are not understood, and are unfavourably judged, what good is there in defending ourselves? Let us leave it so and say nothing, it is so sweet to let ourselves be judged no matter how! It is not told in the Gospels that Saint Magdalen gave any explanation when blamed by her sister for sitting inactive at the feet of Jesus. She did not say: "Martha, if thou didst but know my happiness, if thou didst but hear the words I hear, thou too wouldst lay all else aside, to share my joy and my repose." No, she chose rather to be silent . . . O blessed silence which gives to the soul such peace!

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

IN a moment of temptation and combat a novice received this note:

"The just man shall correct me in mercy and reprove me; but let not the oil of the sinner anoint my head. [15] I cannot be corrected or tried except by the just, inasmuch as all my Sisters are pleasing to God. It is less bitter to be reproved by a sinner than by the just; but through compassion for sinners, to obtain their conversion, I pray Thee, O my God, that I may be bruised by the just souls who are round about me. Again, I beg that the oil of praise, so sweet to nature, anoint not my head, that is to say, enervate not my mind, by making me believe that I possess virtues which I have only with difficulty practised several times.

"O my Jesus! Thy Name is as oil poured out; [16] it is in this divine perfume that I wish to be wholly bathed, far away from the notice of creatures."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

[15] Ps., cxl, 5.
[16] Cant., i, 2.

AT the close of her life she was able to say: "I used so to rise above all things, that I drew strength from humiliations."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII

"GOD has a special love for you," remarked a young Sister, "since to you He entrusts other souls."

"That does not add anything to me, and I am only really just what I am in God's sight . . . It does not follow that He loves me more, because He wills that I should be His interpreter to you; rather, He makes me your little servant. It is for you and not for me that He has given me the charms and virtues apparent to you.

"Often I compare myself to a little bowl which God fills with good things of every kind. All the kittens come to it to take their share, and sometimes there is a contest as to which shall have most. But the Child Jesus is there, keeping watch: 'I am very willing that you drink from my little bowl' saith He, 'but take care lest you overturn it and break it.'

"Truth to tell, the danger is not great, because I am placed on the ground. It is otherwise with Prioresses: they, being set on tables run many more risks. Honours are always dangerous.

"Oh! how poisonous the praises served up day by day to those who hold high places. What baneful incense! And how necessary it is that the soul be detached from self, that so she may escape unharmed."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

TO help a novice to accept a humiliation she said to her in confidence: "If I had not been received into Carmel I would have entered a Refuge, to live there unknown and despised in the midst of the poor penitents. To pass for such in the eyes of all would have been my happiness. I should have been the apostle of my companions telling them what I think of the Mercy of the good God."

"But how would you have been able to hide your innocence from your Confessor?"

"I would have told him that while in the world I had made a general confession and had been forbidden to do so again."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

ONE day they brought her some ears of corn. She took one so laden with grain that it leaned down upon its stalk, and having looked at it for a long time she said to the Mother Prioress:

"Mother, this ear of corn is an image of my soul: the good God has laden me with graces for myself and for many others! . . . Oh! I wish ever to bow down beneath the abundance of Heaven's gifts, recognizing that all comes from above."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII

WHAT do you think of all the graces which have been poured down upon you?

"I think that the Spirit of God breatheth where He will." [17]

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

[17] John, iii, 8.

A SISTER said that in Heaven she would be a beautiful flower, resplendent with light.

"Oh no," she replied, "you know how in pretty bouquets they conceal some moss to make the flowers stand out; well, I shall be a little bit of moss to set off the beauty of the elect."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

DURING her last agony the Mother Prioress encouraged her with these words:

"My child, you are quite ready to appear before God because you have always understood the virtue of humility."

Then of herself she gave this beautiful testimony:

"Yes, I feel it, my soul has never sought but the truth . . . yes, I have understood humility of heart!"

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII

[DETACHMENT]

IF the impossible were possible and that God Himself did not see my good actions, I would not grieve about it. I love Him so much that I should like to be able to give Him pleasure without His knowing that it was I . . . Knowing and seeing it, He is, in a way, bound to repay me . . . I would not give Him the trouble.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

THE glory of Jesus . . . that is my whole ambition; my own I abandon to Him; and if He seem to forget me, well, He is at liberty to do so since I am mine no more, but His. He will more quickly tire of making me wait, than I, of waiting!

VII LETTER TO MÈRE AGNÈS DE JÉSUS

THERE is no stay, no support to seek out of Jesus. He alone changeth not. What happiness to think that He can never change!

V LETTER TO MÈRE AGNÈS DE JÉSUS

THE sole happiness upon earth consists in hiding oneself and remaining in total ignorance of created things.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII

FAR from dazzling me all the titles of nobility appear to me but empty vanity. I have understood those words of the Imitation: "Be not solicitous for the shadow of a great name." [1] I have understood that true greatness is found not in the name but in the soul.

The Prophet tells us that the Lord God shall call His servants by ANOTHER NAME; [2] and we read in St. John: "To him that overcometh, I will give . . . a white counter, and in the counter a new name written, which no man knoweth but he that receiveth." [3] It is in Heaven, therefore, that we shall know our titles of nobility. Then shall each one receive from God the praise that he merits, [4] and he who upon earth will have made choice of being the poorest and the most unknown for love of our Lord, he will be the first, the noblest and the richest.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VI

[1] Imit., III, xxiv, 2.
[2] Is., lxv, 15.
[3] Apoc., ii, 17.
[4] Cf. I Cor., iv, 5.

I THANK my Jesus for making me walk in darkness; in it I am wrapped in profound peace. Willingly I consent to stay, during the whole of my religious life, in this sombre tunnel into which He has made me enter; I desire only that my darkness may win light for sinners.

IV LETTER TO MÈRE AGNÈS DE JÉSUS

IN this world we must not become attached to anything—not even things the most innocent, for they fail us at the moment when we are least expecting it. The eternal alone can satisfy us.

I LETTER TO SR. MARIE DU SACRÉ-CŒUR

THIS prayer she bore upon her heart on the day of her Profession:

"O Jesus, my Divine Spouse, grant that the robe of my baptism be never sullied! Take me, rather than suffer me here below to stain my soul by committing the slightest wilful fault. May I never seek nor ever find but Thee alone! May all creatures be nothing to me, and I nothing to them! May no earthly thing disturb my peace!

. . . . . . .

"Grant that I fulfil my engagements in all their perfection; that none concern themselves about me; that I may be trodden underfoot, forgotten, as a little grain of sand. I offer myself to Thee, O Well-Beloved, that Thou mayst ever perfectly accomplish Thy holy will in me, without let or hindrance from creatures."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII

WITH jealous care all must be kept for Jesus; it is so good to work for Him, and for Him alone! How joyous then the heart and how buoyant the spirit! . . .

VI LETTER TO MÈRE AGNÈS DE JÉSUS

I HAVE never wished for human glory, contempt it was, that had attraction for my heart; but having recognized that this again was too glorious for me, I ardently desire to be forgotten.

VII LETTER TO MÈRE AGNÈS DE JÉSUS

IF you only knew to what a degree I wish to be indifferent to the things of the earth! What matters to me all created beauty? I should be truly unfortunate were I to possess it. Oh! how great, how noble, seems my heart when I look at it in relation to this world's goods, since all of them put together could never satisfy it; but when I consider it with reference to Jesus, how small it then appears to me.

II LETTER TO MÈRE AGNÈS DE JÉSUS

YES, I now am able to say I have received the grace of being no more attached to the goods of mind and heart than to those of earth. If it happens that I repeat to my Sisters some thought of mine which pleases them, I think it quite natural that they should look on it as their own; this thought belongs to the Holy Ghost not to me, seeing that St. Paul tells us that without the Spirit of Love we cannot give to God the name of Father. [5] The Holy Spirit assuredly is free to use me as the means of conveying a good thought to a soul and I may not consider this thought as my property.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. X

[5] Cf. Rom., viii, 15.

"THERE is one only means of constraining the good God not to judge us at all, it is to appear before Him with our hands empty."

"But how?" they asked her.

"It is quite simple: keep nothing whatever in reserve, give away your gains according as you earn. As for me, if I live to be eighty I shall be always poor; I know not how to save up, all that I have goes immediately to ransom souls."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

THE further you advance the fewer combats will you have, or rather, the easier will your conquests be, because you will look at the good side of things. Your soul will then rise above creatures. Anything that may be said to me now, leaves me absolutely indifferent, for I have realized how little stability there is in human judgments.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

TO write books of devotion, to compose the most sublime poetry, is of less worth than the least act of self-renunciation.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

"ONE Sunday," Thérèse tells us, "I went right joyously on my way towards the alley of chestnut trees; it was the spring-time, and I meant to enjoy the beauties of nature. O cruel disappointment! My dear chestnut trees had been pruned, and the branches, already loaded with verdant buds, lay strewn upon the ground! It was heartrending to view this destruction, and to think that three years must pass ere I could see it repaired . . . My distress however did not last. 'If I were in another monastery,' thought I, 'what difference would it make to me if the chestnut trees in the Carmel of Lisieux were cut down altogether? I will fret no more about transitory things; my Well-Beloved shall take the place of all else for me . . . I will wander ever in the groves of His love, which none may touch!'"

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

SHE said to her novices: "You are too much taken up about what you are doing, you torment yourselves concerning the future as if you had the care of it . . . Are you at this moment preoccupied with what is passing in other Carmels, as to whether the nuns are pressed or not? Do their labours hinder your prayer or meditation? Very well, so, too, ought you to be detached from your personal work, employing conscientiously therein the time directed, but with disengagement of heart.

"I have read that the Israelites, when building the walls of Jerusalem, worked with one hand and with the other held a sword. [6] That is truly a figure of what we ought to do: never give ourselves completely up to the work."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

[6] II Esdras, iv, 17.

A NOVICE asked some of the Sisters to help to shake blankets, which being rather worn, she cautioned them somewhat sharply to be careful not to tear. Sœur Thérèse remarked:

"What would you do if it were not your office to mend these blankets? . . . With what detachment you would then act! And if you did point out that they are easily torn, how free from self-interest it would be. Thus, never let the least shadow of self-interest glide into your actions."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

IN the infirmary the novices used scarcely to wait till her thanksgivings were ended before speaking to her and seeking her counsels. This, at first, grieved her and she gently reproached them. Then very soon she let them have their way, saying:

"The thought has struck me that I am not to desire more of repose than our Lord. When He retired into the desert after His discourses, the people came immediately to break in upon His solitude. Come to me as much as you will. I must die arms in hand, having on my lips the sword of the Spirit which is the Word of God." [7]

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

[7] Ephes., vi, 17.

"HOW do you manage so to practise virtue," asked a novice, "as to be always the same, invariably joyous and composed?"

"It has not been always so," she replied, "but ever since I have shunned all self-seeking I lead the happiest life that can be."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

NOW, that I am about to appear before the good God, more than ever do I understand that there is but one thing necessary: to work solely for Him, and to do nothing for self or for creatures.

X LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"

[MORTIFICATION]

FAR from being like to those great souls who from their childhood practise all sorts of macerations, I made my mortification consist solely in the breaking of my will, restraining a hasty word, rendering little services to those around me without making anything of it, and a thousand other things of this kind.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VI

I had no taste for games, I should have liked to spend my life reading, but I was only to take a very limited time for this chosen recreation, and this was the ground of many a sacrifice, for I made it a point of duty to break off promptly at the end of the time allotted, even in the middle of the most interesting passage.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IV

I HAD accustomed myself never to complain when anything of mine was taken away; and when unjustly blamed I chose rather to remain silent than to defend myself.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. I

I WAS ten years old the day that my Father told Céline he was going to let her have lessons in painting; I was by, and envied her. Then Papa said to me: "And you, my little queen, would it give you pleasure too to learn drawing?" I was just going to respond with a very gladsome yes, when Marie made the remark that I had not the same taste for it as Céline. At once she gained the day; and I, thinking that here was a good opportunity of offering a grand sacrifice to Jesus, said not a word. So eager was my desire to learn drawing that now I still wonder how I had the fortitude to remain silent.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII

IN the world, on awakening in the morning I used to think over what would probably occur either pleasing or vexatious during the day; and if I foresaw only trying events I arose dispirited. Now it is quite the other way: I think of the difficulties and the sufferings that await me, and I rise the more joyous and full of courage the more I foresee opportunities of proving my love for Jesus, and earning the living of my children—seeing that I am the mother of souls. Then I kiss my crucifix and lay it tenderly on the pillow while I dress, and I say to Him: "My Jesus, Thou hast worked enough and wept enough during the three-and- thirty years of Thy life on this poor earth. Take now Thy rest . . . My turn it is to suffer and to fight."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

THE attraction to penance was given me, but I was permitted nothing to satisfy it. The only mortifications I was allowed consisted in mortifying self-love, which did me more good than corporal penance.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VII

AT prayer I was for a long time near a Sister who used to handle incessantly either her Rosary-beads or some other thing; perhaps none heard it but myself, for my hearing is extremely acute, but I cannot say how it tormented me! I should have liked to turn my head and look at the culprit so as to make her stop that noise: however in my heart I knew it was better to bear it patiently, for the love of God in the first place, and also to avoid giving pain.

I kept quiet therefore, but was sometimes worked up to fever-heat and obliged to make simply a prayer of endurance. Finally I sought out the means of suffering with peace and joy, at least in my innermost soul; I tried to like the teasing little noise. Instead of endeavouring not to hear it—a thing impossible—I listened with fixed attention as if it had been a delightful concert; and my prayer, which was not the prayer of quiet, passed in offering this concert to Jesus.

Another time I was in the laundry opposite a Sister who while washing handkerchiefs splashed me every minute with dirty water. My first impulse was to draw back and wipe my face, so as to show her who besprinkled me in that fashion, that she would oblige me by working more quietly; but I reflected immediately that it was very foolish to refuse treasures so generously offered me, and I took good care not to show my annoyance. On the contrary, I made such successful efforts to wish for a plentiful splashing of dirty water, that at the end of half an hour I had really acquired a taste for this new sort of aspersion, and I determined to come again as often as possible to a place where happily such riches could be had gratuitously.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. X

I REMEMBER that sometimes, when a postulant, I was so violently tempted to indulge myself by seeking some little consolations, that I was obliged to go quickly past our Mother's cell, and cling to the banisters of the staircase so that I should not turn back. There would come to mind a number of permissions to ask, a hundred pretexts for deciding in favour of my natural inclinations and gratifying them. How glad I am now of having denied myself from the outset of my life in religion! Already I enjoy the reward promised to those who fight courageously. No longer do I feel the necessity of refusing myself consolations of the heart; for my heart is firmly fixed in God . . . Because it has loved Him above all, it has gradually enlarged, even so as to love those who are dear to it with a love incomparably deeper than if it were centred in a selfish and fruitless affection.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. X

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.

THE SERVANT OF GOD