Chapter 2-20

THIS worthy friar of whom I have spoken, and who had already previously received from God sufficient grace to dispose him to spiritual views, though for want of help and, perhaps, of faithfulness, he had not advanced—this good friar, I say, felt himself led to open his heart to me like a child. Our Lord gave me all that was necessary for him, So that, not being able to doubt the impression of his grace, he said to me, without knowing what he was saying, “You are my true mother.” From that time our Lord had the goodness to show him much mercy through this petty nothing, and I felt indeed that he was my son, and one of the most united and faithful. Whenever he came to see me, our Lord showed him fresh mercies, and he used to go away full, strengthened, encouraged to die really to himself, and certified of the power of God in me, which he experienced with his dependence. Our Lord gradually taught him to speak in silence, and to receive grace without the intervention of words; but this took effect in him only in proportion as he died to himself. Our Lord had promised that where several should be assembled in his name, he would be in the midst of them. It is in this way the promise takes effect very really. As he was already far advanced in prayer, and was only arrested and retarded, he was soon re-established.

In proportion as his soul advanced so as to be able to remain in silence before God, and the Word operated in him in this silence—which is fruitful and full, not a mere indolence, as those who have not experienced it imagine—he increased in grace and prayer. O immediate speech, ineffable speech, who say everything without articulating anything, who are the expression of what you say! He who has not experienced you knows nothing, however wise he may think himself. It is in you is the source of all knowledge, and when you are in plenitude in a soul, what is she ignorant of? In proportion, then, as the Word communicated himself to him in silence ineffable, it was given him in silence to communicate with me, and to receive through me in silence the operations of the Divine Word—operations which he could not be ignorant of, for the plenitude became in him more abundant; like a sluice opened up which profusely discharges itself, and that with such force and such grace in well-disposed souls, that a river does not run with greater impetuosity. But, alas, how few souls there are pure enough for it to pass thus in them! This plenitude which he continually received, emptied him more of himself, and put him into a state of greater silence before God and profounder death and separation from all things. The more he died to everything, the more he was inclined towards God and towards me. O my God, I understood so well that it is in this manner you communicate yourself profusely to those souls, who are entirely yours; it is in these souls that your grace flows as a river, and it is in them that you become a “spring of water springing up unto life eternal,” and that with such abundance that there is enough to fill an infinity of hearts, each according to his degree, without ceasing to be full. It was that plenitude, great and unrivalled, with which the angel saluted the Holy Virgin. She was in such perfect plenitude that she flowed out and will flow out eternally into all the saints as their Hierarchic Queen, and it is in this sense that all the graces which God gives men pass all through Mary. What abundance do not you experience, you who communicate to all, and who are the first receptacle, who, overflowing from your plenitude, furnish to other souls all that is needed for them!

O wonderful Hierarchy, which commences in this life to continue through all eternity! Yes, there is a Hierarchy among the Saints as among the angels, and those who shall have served as a channel in their plenitude to water other souls will so serve through all eternity in Hierarchic manner.

And it is in this sense that the divine Eve is mother of all living, since there will be an outflow from her plenitude into the souls of all those who will live by grace, greater or less, according as the hearts are more disposed, more extended and dilated to receive from that plenitude and superabundance. It needs a great largeness and extent of soul to receive much and enough to give to others. Those who are dead through sin receive nothing from this plenitude of life, and that is the reason they are dead; because all the passages by which life might flow into them are stopped; but for souls living in charity, they all receive of that plenitude, more or less according as they are more or less disposed by purity and largeness of soul. The good friar then received in this way, as well as many others of my spiritual children; for what I say of him, I say of many others, but I give him as an example. He was also given the means of aiding other souls, not in silence, but by words; for as to the communication in silence, those who are in a state to receive are not thereby in a state to communicate: there is a long road to travel before. Father La Combe communicated and received, as I have said; but as for the others, they received without communicating. This same worthy friar had occasion to bring to me some of his companions, and God took them all for himself. Not that they were my children, as he was; they were only conquests. And it was at the very time God was giving me these worthy monks, that the other monks of the same order were committing the ravages of which I have spoken, and endeavouring to destroy spiritual religion. I marvelled how our Lord compensated himself on these worthy monks—in pouring out his Spirit upon them with fulness—for what the others tried to make him lose, but without much effect; for those other good souls which were persecuted were strengthened by the persecution, instead of being shaken. The Superior and the master of the novices of the House where this worthy friar was declared against me without knowing me, and were vexed that a woman, they said, should be so sought after. As they regarded things in themselves and not in God, who does what he pleases, they had only scorn for the gift which was contained in so miserable a vessel, in place of esteeming only God and his grace, without regard to the baseness of the subject in which he pours it out. This worthy friar contrived that his Superior came to thank me for the charities, he said, that I gave them. Our Lord permitted that he found in my conversation something which pleased him. At last he was completely gained over, and it was he who, being made Visitor some time afterwards, distributed so great a quantity of those books, which they, out of extreme charity, purchased at their expense, and which the others had tried to destroy by causing them even to be burnt. How admirable are you, O my God, in your conduct, all wise and all loving, and how well you know how to triumph over the false wisdom of men and over all their precautions!

In the Noviciate there were several novices. He who was the senior of them was so disgusted with his vocation that he did not know what to do. The temptation was such that he could neither read, nor study, nor pray, nor perform almost any of his duties. The begging friar, one day that he acted as his companion, had a movement to bring him to me. We talked a little together, and our Lord made me discover the cause of his trouble and the remedy. I told it to him, and he set himself to pray, but a prayer of affection. He suddenly changed, and our Lord gave him great grace. In proportion as I spoke to him, an effect of grace was produced in his heart, and his soul opened herself like a parched land to the dew. He felt he was changed and freed from his trouble before leaving the room. He performed at once with joy, and even to perfection, all his exercises, which previously he performed with disgust, or did not perform at all. He studied and prayed with ease, and discharged all his duties, so that he no longer knew himself, nor did the others. But what astonished him more was a germ of life which had remained with him, and a gift of prayer. He saw that there was given to him without trouble what previously he could not have, whatever trouble he took; and that vivifying germ was the principle which made him act, and gave him grace for his occupations and a root of God’s presence, which brought with it all good. He gradually brought to me all the novices, who all felt the effects of grace, but differently and according to their degree; so that never did Noviciate appear more flourishing.

The Father, who was master, and the Superior, could not help wondering at so great a change in their novices, although they did not penetrate the cause; and one day as they spoke of it to the begging friar, and said to him—for they had him in great esteem, being men of merit and virtue—that they were surprised by the change in the novices, and the blessing that the Lord had given to their Noviciate, he said to them, “My Fathers, if you permit me, I will tell you the cause. It is that lady, against whom you cried out so strongly without knowing her, of whom God has made use for this.” They were very much surprised, and that Father, although very aged, had the humility, as well as his Guardian, to use prayer in the way taught in a little book which our Lord had made me compose, and of which I shall speak immediately. They so much profited by it that the Guardian said, “I am a new man. I could not pray because my reasoning was dulled and exhausted, and now I do it without trouble as much as I wish, with much fruit and a quite different presence of God.” The other Father said to him, “For forty years I am a monk, and I can say that I have never known how to pray, nor known and tasted God until this time.” As my true children I had only the first of the novices of whom I have spoken, the begging friar, and another Father, nephew of the begging friar. There were many others won for God in a special manner. I saw clearly that they were gained, but I did not feel in their case that maternity and that inward flowing out of which I have spoken, although they were, however, our Lord’s through my means. I do not know if I can make myself understood.

Our Lord gave me a very great number of children, and three famous monks, from an order by which I have been, and am still, much persecuted. These are very closely bound to me, especially one. He made me help a great number of nuns and virtuous girls, and even men of the world, among others a young man of rank, who has given himself to God, and is his in a very special manner. He is a man very spiritually minded, and who, while married, is very holy. Our Lord sent me also an Abbe of rank, who had left the Order of Malta, to take up that of the priesthood. He was relative of a Bishop of that neighbourhood, who had plans for him. Our Lord gave him great grace, and he is very faithful to prayer. I could not write the great number of souls then given to me—maids and wives, monks and priests; but there were three cures, and one canon, who were more especially given to me, and a grand vicar. There was also a priest who was given to me very intimately, for whom I suffered much; but as he was not willing to die to himself, and too much loved himself, he was entirely torn away from me, and I suffered terribly. I suffered before he was torn from me, and I knew by my suffering that he was about to be torn from me, and to fall. As for the others, some remained unshaken, and others were a little shaken by the tempest, but they are not torn away: although these stray, they still return; but those who are torn away never return.

Among the great number of persons whom our Lord caused me to aid, and who all entered on the way of spirituality, and gave themselves particularly to God, there were some who were given to me as true daughters, and all recognized me as their mother, and of these last some were in a state to remain in silence: but that was rare. There was one whom our Lord made use of to gain many others to him. She was in a strange state of death when I saw her. Our Lord gave her peace and life. She afterwards fell sick to death, and although the doctors said she would die, I had a certainty to the contrary, and that God would make use of her, as he did, to gain souls. There was in a convent a girl whom people without light had caused to be confined because she was in trouble. I saw her; I understood her distress, and that she was not what she was thought to be. As soon as I had spoken to her she was restored; but the Prioress was displeased at my telling her my thoughts, because the person who for want of light had reduced her to that state was her own friend. So that they tormented her more than before, and threw her back into her trouble.

A Sister of another convent was for eight years in an inconceivable trouble without finding anyone to relieve her; for her director increased it by giving her remedies quite unsuited to her disease. I had never been in that convent, as I used not to go to convents unless I was sent for. Our Lord gave me no inclination nor movement to thrust myself in of myself; but I used to allow myself to be led by providence, and to go where I was sent for. I was very much surprised, when, at eight in the evening, I was sent for by the Prioress. It was in summer, and the days long. As I was very near I went at once. I found a Sister who told me her trouble, and that she had been driven to such a point that she had taken a knife to kill herself, seeing no other remedy; but that the knife had fallen from her hand, and a person who had been to see her, without her disclosing the nature of the trouble, had advised her speak to me. Our Lord made me recognize at once what the matter was, and that he wished her to abandon herself to him, instead of resisting him, as they had made her do for eight years. I made her give herself up to our Lord, and she entered at once into a heavenly peace; all her pains were taken away in a moment, and since that time have never returned. She is the most capable girl in that House. She was at once so changed that she was the admiration of the community. Our Lord gave her a very great gift of prayer, his constant presence and ability for everything. She was given to me as a daughter; and a Sister, who was servant, a very holy woman, troubled for twenty-two years, was also delivered from her pain. This caused a friendship to be formed between the Prioress and me (and in her manner she was a very holy person), because the change and the peace of that Sister surprised her, having seen her in such terrible pains. I formed yet other connections in that convent, where there are souls to whom our Lord has shown great mercies through the means he had chosen.