"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
A design
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"
A design
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
A design
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
A design
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