Produced by Michael Gray, Archdiocese of Portland in Oregon




THOUGHTS
OF SAINT THÉRÈSE
OF THE CHILD JESUS


Nihil Obstat
REMIGIUS LAFORT, S. T. D.
_Censor_

Imprimatur
JOHN CARDINAL FARLEY
_Archbishop of New York_


NEW YORK, _October_ 22, 1915



[Picture of Saint Thérèse]
SAINT THÉRÈSE OF THE CHILD JESUS
_The Little Flower of Jesus_



THOUGHTS
OF SAINT THÉRÈSE OF THE CHILD JESUS


THE LITTLE FLOWER OF JESUS
CARMELITE OF THE MONASTERY
OF LISIEUX, 1873-1897


TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH
"PENSÉES" BY AN IRISH CARMELITE




NEW YORK • PUBLISHED BY
P. J. KENEDY & SONS • 1915



COPYRIGHT, 1915
BY P. J. KENEDY & SONS



THE•PLIMPTON•PRESS
NORWOOD•MASS•U•S•A



TO
PETITE THÉRÈSE
AND
MÈRE AGNÈS DE JÉSUS


A LITTLE TRIBUTE OF
REVERENT AND LOVING GRATITUDE
FROM CARMEL OF KILMACUD

_June_ 9, 1914



CONTENTS

LOVE OF GOD
LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR
FAITH
HOPE
HUMILITY
DETACHMENT
MORTIFICATION
OBEDIENCE
POVERTY
CONFIDENCE
SELF-ABANDONMENT
GRATITUDE
ZEAL
SIMPLICITY
PRAYER
HOLY COMMUNION
SUFFERING
THE DIRECTION OF SOULS
THE BLESSED VIRGIN
VARIOUS SUBJECTS
PRAYER FOR THE BEATIFICATION OF THE SERVANT OF GOD



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-THÉRÈSE
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.


THERE 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.


JESUS 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.


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


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

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII

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


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

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

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

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

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


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

"Take your Crucifix and kiss it."

The novice kissed the feet.

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

She obeyed.

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

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

"That is well, now all is forgiven!"

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


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

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES



SELF-ABANDONMENT


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

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

XVII LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE

[1] Office of St. Cæcilia.
[2] Luke, ii, 14.
[3] Wisdom, iv, I.


I HAD offered myself to the Child Jesus to be _His little
plaything_. I had told Him not to use me like a costly toy which
children are pleased to look at without daring to touch; but as
He would a little ball of no value, that He might throw to the
ground, toss about, pierce, leave in a corner, or else press to
His Heart if so it pleased Him. In a word _I wanted to amuse the
little Jesus, and to give myself up to all His childlike
fancies._

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VI


MY heart is entirely filled with the will of Jesus; therefore
when anything over and above falls to its share, this does not
penetrate to its depths; it is a mere nothing which easily
glides by, as oil on the surface of limpid water. Ah! if my
heart were not filled up beforehand, had it to be filled by the
sentiments of joy or of sadness which so quickly succeed each
other, bitter indeed would be this flood-tide of pain; but these
rapid alternations do no more than ruffle the surface of my
soul, and I remain ever in a profound peace that nothing can
disturb.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


I AM not always faithful, but I am never discouraged; I leave
myself wholly in the arms of our Divine Lord; He teaches me to
_draw profit from all--both good and ill that He finds in me_.
[4] He teaches me to speculate in the Bank of Love, or rather it
is He who acts for me without telling me how He goes to work,
that is His affair and not mine; my part is complete surrender,
reserving nothing to myself, not even the gratification of
knowing how my credit stands with the Bank.

XVI LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE

[4] St. John of the Cross.


A SISTER told Sœur Thérèse of the strange phenomena produced by
magnetism on persons who really wish to yield up their will to
the mesmerizer. These details appeared to interest her keenly
and on the morrow she said to the Sister:

"Your conversation yesterday did me so much good. Oh! how I wish
to be magnetized by our Lord. It was my first thought on
awakening. With what delight have I delivered my will up to Him.
Yes, I want Him to make Himself master of my faculties in such
sort that my actions shall no longer be human or personal, but
wholly divine, inspired and directed by the Spirit of Love."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


YOU are quite wrong to think of sorrows that the future may
bring; it is, as it were, intermeddling with Divine Providence.
We who run in the way of Love must never torment ourselves about
anything. If I did not suffer minute by minute, it would be
impossible for me to be patient; but I see only the present
moment, I forget the past and I take good care not to anticipate
the future. If we grow disheartened, if sometimes we despair, it
is because we have been dwelling on the past or the future.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


I NO longer thirst for either suffering or death, yet both I
dearly prize. Long did I call upon them as the harbingers of joy
. . . Suffering has in very truth been mine, and I have thought
I wellnigh touched the eternal shore! I have believed from my
earliest youth that _the little flower_ would be gathered in its
spring-time; now, it is the spirit of self-abandonment alone
that guides me, no other compass have I. I know not now, how to
ask anything eagerly, save the perfect accomplishment of God's
designs upon my soul.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII


"PRAY for me," she would often say, "when I implore Heaven to
come to my aid, then it is that I feel most forsaken."

"And in this desolation how do you avoid discouragement?" they
asked her.

"I turn to the good God, to all the Saints, and I thank them
just the same. I think they wish to see to what point I shall
carry my trust . . . But not in vain have these words of Job
sunk into my heart: _'Though He should kill me yet will I trust
in Him.'_ [5] I acknowledge it was long before I reached this
degree of abandonment; our Lord has taken me and placed me
there!"

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII

[5] Job, xiii, 15.


IT seems to me that nothing now hinders me from taking flight,
for I no longer have any great desires, save to love, even unto
dying of love. I am free, I have no fear, not even of what I
most dreaded; I mean the fear of being a long time ill and
consequently a burthen to the Community. If it gives pleasure to
the good God I willingly consent to see my life of suffering,
both of soul and body, prolonged for years. Oh! no, I do not
fear a long life. I do not shun the combat. _"The Lord is the
rock upon which I am founded. Who teacheth my hands to fight and
my fingers to war; He is my protector in whom I have hoped."_
[6] Never have I asked God to let me die young; it is true I
have ever believed that it would be so, but without seeking to
obtain it.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX

[6] _Cf_. Ps., cxliii, 1, 2, 3.


WHATEVER the good God has given me has always pleased me, even
the gifts which have appeared to me less good and less beautiful
than those received by others.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


I HAVE no greater desire to die than to live; if our Lord gave
me the choice I would choose nothing; I only will what He wills;
it is what He does that I love.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


"SOME think you are afraid of death," they said to her.--"That
may indeed yet happen; I never depend on my own thoughts,
knowing how weak I am; but at present I will rejoice in the
sentiments that the good God now gives me, there will be time
enough to suffer from the contrary."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


A SISTER said to her:

"If anyone goes straight to Heaven, you surely will not spend
one moment in Purgatory!"

"Oh! I feel little anxiety about that; I shall always be content
with the sentence of the good God. If I go to Purgatory, well--I
shall walk in the midst of the flames, like the three Hebrews in
the furnace, singing the Canticle of Love."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES



GRATITUDE



OH, how happy God makes me! How easy and how sweet it is to
serve Him upon earth.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. X


SEEING several of my companions form special attachments to some
one or other of our mistresses, I wished to follow their example
but could not succeed therein. O happy inability! from how great
evils has it saved me . . . How I thank God for having made me
find only bitterness in the friendships of earth. With a heart
such as mine I should have been captured and had my wings
clipped; then how should I have been able to _fly away and be at
rest_. [1]

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IV

[1] Ps., liv, 7.


I UNDERSTAND well that our Lord knew I was too weak to be
exposed to temptation; without doubt I should have been wholly
destroyed had I been dazzled by the deceitful glamour of the
love of creatures; but never has it shone before my eyes. There,
where strong souls find joy, and through fidelity detach
themselves from it, I have found only affliction. Where then is
my merit in not being given up to these fragile attachments,
since it is only by a gracious effect of God's mercy that I was
preserved from it? Without Him, I recognize that I might have
fallen as low as St. Magdalene; and that word of deep meaning
spoken by the Divine Master to Simon the Pharisee, re-echoes
with great sweetness in my soul. Yes, I know it: _"To whom less
is forgiven, he loveth less."_ [2] But I also know that Jesus
has forgiven more to me than to St. Magdalene. Ah, how I wish I
could express what I feel. Here at least is an example which
will in some measure convey my thought.

Suppose the son of a skilful doctor is tripped by a stone in his
path, which causes him to fall and fracture a limb. His father
comes in haste, lifts him up lovingly and attends to his
injuries, employing therein all the resources of his art; and
the boy, very soon completely cured, testifies his gratitude.
This child has certainly good reason to love so kind a father;
but here is another supposition.

The father having learnt that there lies in his son's way a
dangerous stone, sets out beforehand and removes it unseen by
anyone. His son, the object of this tender forethought, unaware
of the misfortune from which he has been preserved by the
father's hand, will of course show no gratitude, and will love
him less than if he had cured him of a grievous wound. But
should he come to know all, will he not love him still more?
Well--I am this child, the object of the preventing love of a
Father _Who sent His Son not to redeem the just but sinners._
[3] He wills that I should love Him because He has forgiven me,
not _much_, but _everything_. Without waiting for me to love Him
much, like St. Mary Magdalene, He has made me to know how He had
loved me with a preventing and ineffable love, in order that I
may now love Him even unto folly!

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IV

[2] Luke, vii, 47.
[3] Luke, v, 32.


WALKING one day in the garden, leaning on one of her sisters,
Thérèse paused to enjoy the fascinating sight of a little white
hen sheltering its chickens beneath its wings. Very soon her
eyes filled with tears, and turning to her dear companion she
said: "I can stay no longer, let us go in again quickly. . ."
And in her cell, her tears continued falling and she could not
utter a word. At last, looking at her sister with an expression
that was quite heavenly, she said:

"I was thinking of our Lord, and of the touching comparison He
chose in order to make us believe in His tenderness. That is
just what He has done for me all my life: _He has wholly hidden
me beneath His wings!_ I cannot express what passed within my
heart. Ah! the good God does well to veil Himself from my sight,
to show me the effects of His Mercy rarely, and as it were,
_'through the lattices;'_ [4] such consolations would, I feel,
be more than I could bear."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII

[4] Cant., ii, 9.


"OH! how _good_ is the good God!" . . . she would sometimes
exclaim. "Yes, He must indeed be good to give me the strength to
endure all that I suffer."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


ONE day she said to the Mother Prioress:

"I would like to speak to you, Mother, of the state of my soul;
but I cannot, I am too deeply moved just now."

And in the evening she sent these lines pencilled with a
trembling hand:

"O my God, how good Thou art to the little victim of Thy
Merciful Love! Now even though Thou dost join physical suffering
to the trials of my soul, I cannot say: _'The sorrows of death
have encompassed me.'_ [5] But I cry out in my gratitude: _'I
have gone down into the valley of the shadow of death, yet I
fear no evil, because Thou, O Lord, art with me.'_" [6]

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII

[5] Ps., xvii, 5.
[6] _Cf_. Ps., xxii, 4.



ZEAL



THE cry of Jesus agonizing, "I thirst!" re-echoed continually in
my heart, firing it with an ardent zeal till then unknown to me.
I longed to give to my Beloved to drink: I too felt myself
consumed with the thirst for souls, and at all cost I would
wrest sinners from the eternal flames.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. V


THE Precious Blood of Jesus I poured on souls, to Him I offered
these same souls renewed by the Dew of Calvary; thus I thought
to quench His Thirst; but the more I gave Him to drink, the more
ardently my poor little soul thirsted--and this I received as a
most precious recompense.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. V


LIKE the Prophets and the Doctors I would fain enlighten souls.
Fain would I travel the earth, O my Well-Beloved, to preach Thy
Name and to set up Thy glorious Cross in Pagan lands. But one
mission only would not suffice for me; would that I could at one
and the same time proclaim the Gospel all the world over, even
to the remotest of its islands. I would desire to be a
Missionary not only for a few years, but to have been one from
the creation of the world, and so to continue to the end of
time.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI


I LONG to accomplish the most heroic deeds. I feel within me the
courage of a Crusader. I would die on the battlefield in defence
of the Church.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI


OPEN, my Jesus, thy Book of Life wherein are recorded the
actions of all the Saints; those actions--would that I too, had
accomplished such for Thee!

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI


SOULS--dear Lord, we must have souls! Above all, souls of
apostles and of martyrs, that through them we may inflame the
multitude of poor sinners with love of Thee.

HIST. D'UNE AME, APPENDIX


AFTER recreation one day when the Mother Prioress had spoken of
the persecution already raging against Religious Communities,
Sœur Thérèse said to a novice: "Ah! Sister, we live in an era of
martyrs! Blood will be shed.--What happiness if it should be
ours!"

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


A NOVICE on her way to the laundry one day, went at a slow pace
through the garden, looking at the flowers as she passed. Sœur
Thérèse who followed walking quickly, soon overtook her and
said: "Is that how one hastens who has children (_souls_) to
support, for whose sustenance she is obliged to work? . . . "

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


DURING her illness she wrote:

"The will of the good God is my sole desire; and I declare that
if in Heaven I could no longer work for His glory, I would
choose exile rather than the Fatherland."

IV LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"


WHAT draws me towards the Heavenly Country is the call of our
Lord, the hope of at last loving Him as I have so ardently
desired, and the thought that I shall be able to make Him loved
by _a multitude of souls_ who will bless Him eternally.

VIII LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"


CONFIDENTLY I count upon not remaining inactive in Heaven, my
desire is to work still for the Church and for souls: this I ask
of God, and I am certain that He will hear me. If I quit already
the battlefield, it is not with the selfish desire of taking my
rest. Suffering has long since become my heaven here below, and
it is difficult to imagine how it will be possible for me to
become acclimatized to a country where joy reigns, unmingled
with sorrow. Jesus must needs transform my soul completely, else
I could not support eternal bliss.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


JUST now a few notes of distant music fell upon my ear, and set
me thinking that very soon I shall hear melodies beyond compare;
yet this thought can give me but a moment's gladness; one only
expectation makes my heart throb: _it is the love that I shall
receive and the love that I shall be able to give!_

_I feel that my mission is now to begin, my mission to make
others love the good God as I love Him . . . to give to souls my
little way_. I WILL SPEND MY HEAVEN IN DOING GOOD UPON EARTH.
This is not impossible, since the Angels in the full enjoyment
of the Beatific Vision keep watch over us. No, I shall never
rest till the end of the world! But when the Angel shall have
said: "Time is no more!" [1] then I shall rest--shall be able to
rejoice, because the number of the elect will be complete.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII

[1] Apoc., x, 6.



SIMPLICITY



WHEN I read certain treatises where perfection is set forth as
encompassed by a thousand obstacles, my poor little head grows
weary very quickly. I close the learned book which puzzles my
brains and dries up my heart, and in its stead I open the Holy
Scriptures. Then all appears clear, luminous . . . one single
word discloses to my soul infinite horizons, perfection seems
easy. I see that it is sufficient to recognize our nothingness,
and to leave oneself like a child, in the arms of the good God.
Let great souls and sublime intellects enjoy the beautiful books
which I cannot understand, still less put in practice; I rejoice
in being little, since _"children only and those who resemble
them will be admitted to the Heavenly banquet."_ [1]

It is well that the Kingdom of Heaven contains many mansions,
for if there were none other than those of which the description
and the way seem incomprehensible to me, I should never be able
to enter therein.

VI LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"

[1] _Cf._ Matt., xix, 14.


MY patrons in Heaven and my chosen favourites are those who have
stolen it--like the Holy Innocents and the Good Thief. The great
Saints have earned it by their works; as for me, I will imitate
the thieves, I will have it by ruse, a ruse of Love which will
open its gates to me and to poor sinners. The Holy Ghost
encourages me, saying in the Book of Proverbs: _"O little one,
come, learn subtlety of me."_ [2]

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

[2] _Cf._ Prov., i, 4.


OUR Lord replied to the mother of the sons of Zebedee: _"To sit
on My right and on My left hand is for them for whom it is
prepared by My Father."_ [3] I imagine that those places of
choice, refused to great Saints, to Martyrs, will be the portion
of little children.

Did not David predict it when he said that _the little Benjamin
will preside amidst the assemblies_ (of the saints)? [4]

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

[3] _Cf._ Matt., xx, 23.
[4] _Cf._ Ps., lxvii, 29.


"IF you could begin your religious life over again" asked a
novice, "what would you do?"

"It seems to me that I would do as I have done."

"You do not then feel like the hermit who used to say: 'Even
though I had lived long years in penance yet I should fear
damnation while there still remained to me one quarter of an
hour, one breath of life.'

"No, I cannot share that fear, I am too little to be damned,
little children are not damned."

"You always seek to be like the little ones--but tell us what we
must do to possess the spirit of childhood? What does it exactly
mean--to remain little?

"To remain little--it is to recognize our nothingness, to expect
everything from the good God, not to be too much afflicted about
our faults, for little children fall often but are too small to
hurt themselves much: in fine, it is _not_ to make one's
fortune, nor to be disquieted about anything. Even in the homes
of the poor, as long as a child is quite little they give him
what is needful; but when grown up, the father is no longer
willing to support him and says: 'Now work! you can provide for
yourself.' Well, it was to escape hearing that, that I have
never wished to grow up, for I know myself incapable of earning
my livelihood--Eternal Life!

"Again, to remain little is not to attribute to self the virtues
we practise; but to acknowledge that the good God places this
treasure in the hand of His little child to be made use of when
required."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


BE not afraid to tell Jesus that you love Him; even though it be
without feeling, this is the way to oblige Him to help you, and
carry you like a little child too feeble to walk.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


IT is a great trial to see only the black side of things, but
that does not depend completely upon you. Do your best to detach
your heart from the cares of this world, and above all from
creatures; then you may be sure that Jesus will do the rest. He
could not suffer you to fall into the abyss. Be comforted,
little one, in Heaven you will no longer see _all black but all
white;_ yes, all will be clothed with the divine whiteness of
our Spouse, the Lily of the Valley. Together we shall follow Him
whithersoever He goeth . . . Oh! let us profit by the brief
moments of this life to give pleasure to Jesus, let us win souls
for Him by our sacrifices. Above all let us be little, so little
that all the world may trample us under foot without even our
appearing to feel it or to suffer from it.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


YOU are wrong to find fault with one thing and another, and to
seek that all should yield to your way of viewing things. We
want to be like little children, and little children know not
what is best, to them all seems well; let us imitate them.
Besides there would be no merit [in obedience] were we only to
do what would appear reasonable to us.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


A NOVICE under a temptation which seemed to her insurmountable
said: "This time I cannot rise above it--it is impossible."
Thérèse replied: "Why do you try to rise above it? Pass beneath
it quite simply. It is very well for great souls to soar high
above the clouds when the storm is raging, but for us, we have
merely to bear the showers with patience. If we do get rather
wet--no matter! We shall dry ourselves afterwards in the
sunshine of Love.

"That brings to mind this little trait of my childhood; a horse
one day standing at the garden gate barred our entrance; those
with me endeavoured by force of talking, etc., to get him to
move back, but while they talked I very quietly slipped in,
through the horse's legs . . . See how one may gain by remaining
little!"

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


TO a young Sister discouraged at seeing her imperfections, Sœur
Thérèse said: "You make me think of a very little child who is
just able to stand upright but does not yet know how to walk.
Intent upon reaching the top of the stairs so as to get back to
his mother he lifts his foot to climb the first step. Fruitless
endeavour! At each attempt he falls without advancing in the
least. Well, be like that little child; by the practice of every
virtue keep on ever lifting your little foot to climb the steps
of sanctity, and do not imagine that you will be able to mount
even the first! No; but good will is all God requires of you.
From the top of those steps He is watching you with love; and
won by your unavailing efforts He will Himself soon come down,
and taking you in His arms will bear you away to His Kingdom,
never more to quit Him. But if you cease to lift your little
foot He will leave you a long time on earth."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


THE only means of making rapid progress in the path of Love is
to remain always very _little_; that is what I have done; so now
I can sing with our Father St. John of the Cross:

  And stooping so low, so low,
  I rose still higher and higher
  And thus I attained my end.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


SOME one was speaking to her of the mortifications of the
Saints, she replied:

"It is well our Lord has let us know that _there are many
mansions in His Father's House, that if not He would have told
us._ [5] Yes, if all souls called to perfection had been obliged
to practise these macerations in order to enter Heaven, He would
have said so, and gladly would we have undertaken them. But He
tells us that _in His House there are many mansions_. If there
are those for great souls, for the Fathers of the Desert and for
martyrs of penance, there must be one also for little children.
Our place is reserved there, if our love be great--for Him and
for our Heavenly Father and the Spirit of Love."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

[5] _Cf._ John, xiv, 2.


"I feel that my mission is now to begin," she said a few days
before her death, "my mission to make others love the good God
_as I love Him_, to give my little way to souls. . ."

"What is this 'little way' that you want to teach to souls?"

"_It is the path of spiritual childhood, it is the way of trust
and of entire self-surrender_. I want to make known to them the
simple means that have so perfectly succeeded for me, to tell
them that there is but one only thing to do here below: _to cast
down before Jesus the flowers of little sacrifices, to win Him
by caresses!_ That is how I have won Him, and that is why I
shall be so well received."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


IF I am misguiding you by my _little way_ of Love, she said to a
novice, do not fear that I shall let you follow it very long. I
shall appear to you, and tell you to take another path; but if I
do not return, believe in the truth of my words: _never can we
have too much confidence in the good God, so mighty and so
merciful! As much as we hope for shall we obtain from
Him!_ . . .

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


A NOVICE said to her on the eve of the Feast of Our Lady of
Mount Carmel: "If you were to die to-morrow after Holy
Communion, it seems to me that so beautiful a death would
console me in the midst of my grief."

And Thérèse replied with animation:

"Die after Holy Communion! On a grand Feast day! No, it will not
be so: little souls could not copy that. In my little way there
are only quite ordinary things; all that I do, little souls must
be able to do also."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII



PRAYER



AS I grew older I loved the good God more and more, and very
frequently did I offer Him my heart, using the words my mother
had taught me. I strove in all my actions to please Jesus and
was most watchful never to offend Him.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. II


MY whole strength lies in prayer and sacrifice, these are my
invincible arms; they can move hearts far better than words, I
know it by experience.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. X


GREAT is the power of prayer--a queen, as one might say, having
free access always to the King, and able to obtain whatever she
asks. In order to be heard, it is not necessary to read from a
book a beautiful form of prayer adapted to the circumstances; if
it were so, how greatly to be pitied should I be!

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. X


I HAVE not the courage to force myself to seek beautiful prayers
in books; not knowing which to choose I act as children do who
cannot read; I say quite simply to the good God what I want to
tell Him, and He always understands me.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. X


PRAYER is, for me, an outburst from the heart; it is a simple
glance darted upwards to Heaven; it is a cry of gratitude and of
love in the midst of trial as in the midst of joy! In a word, it
is something exalted, supernatural, which dilates the soul and
unites it to God. Sometimes when I find myself, spiritually, in
dryness so great that I cannot produce a single good thought, I
recite very slowly a _Pater_ or an _Ave Maria_; these prayers
alone console me, they suffice, they nourish my soul.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. X


THE principal plenary indulgence and one which all may gain
without the ordinary conditions, is that of _charity which
covereth a multitude of sins_. [1]

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

[1] Prov., x, 12.


FORMERLY if any of my family were in trouble, and that I had
been unable to succeed in comforting them during their visit, I
would go from the parlour heart-broken; but soon Jesus made me
understand that I was incapable of giving consolation to a soul.
From that day forth I grieved no more when anyone went away sad;
I confided to the good God the sorrows of those who were dear to
me, feeling certain that He heard me, and at their next visit I
used to find that it had indeed been so. Since I have
experienced this, I no longer torment myself when involuntarily
I give pain; I simply beg of Jesus to make up for what I have
done.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


ONE day after Holy Communion the good God made me understand
those words of the Canticles: _"Draw me: we will run offer Thee
to the odour of Thy ointments."_ [2] O Jesus, it is not then
necessary to say: In drawing me, draw the souls whom I love.
These, simple words: _"Draw me"_ suffice! Yes, when a soul has
allowed herself to be captivated by the inebriating fragrance of
Thy perfumes, she could not run alone, all the souls whom she
loves are drawn after her; this is a natural consequence of her
attraction towards Thee.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI

[2] Cant., i, 3.


_"DRAW me, we will run. . ."_

To ask to be drawn is to will intimate union with the object
which holds the heart captive. If fire and iron were gifted with
reason, and that the latter said to the fire: "Draw me," would
not this prove that it desired to become identified with the
fire even so far as to share its substance? Well, that is
exactly my prayer. I beg of Jesus to draw me into the flames of
His Love, to unite me so closely to Himself that He may live and
act in me. I feel that the more the fire of love inflames my
heart, the more I shall say: "Draw me," the more also will the
souls who draw near to mine run swiftly in the fragrant odours
of the Well-Beloved.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI


SOULS thus on fire cannot rest inactive. They may sit at the
feet of Jesus, like Saint Mary Magdalene, listening to His sweet
and ardent words; but, while seeming to give nothing, they do
give far more than Martha who troubles herself with _many
things_. [3] It is not however of Martha's labours that Jesus
disapproves, but only her too great anxiety; to this very same
work His Blessed Mother humbly submitted herself, when she had
to prepare the repasts for the Holy Family.

All the Saints have understood this, and more especially perhaps
those who have enlightened the world with the luminous teaching
of the Gospel. Was it not from prayer that Saint Paul, Saint
Augustine, Saint Thomas of Aquin, Saint John of the Cross, Saint
Teresa and so many other friends of God drew that wondrous
science which enraptures the greatest intellects?

Archimedes said: "Give me a lever and a fulcrum, and I will
raise the world." What he was unable to obtain because his
request had but a material end and was not addressed to God, the
Saints have obtained in full measure. For fulcrum, the Almighty
has given them Himself, Himself alone! for lever, prayer, which
enkindles the fire of love; and thus it is that they have
uplifted the world, thus it is that saints still militant,
uplift it, and will uplift it till the end of time.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI

[3] Luke, x, 41


THE Creator of the universe awaits the prayer of one poor little
soul to save a multitude of others, redeemed like her at the
price of His Blood.

Our vocation is not to go and reap in the Father's fields; Jesus
does not say to us: "Cast down your eyes and reap the harvest";
our mission is still more sublime. Here are the words of the
Divine Master: _"Lift up your eyes and see. . ."_ see that in
Heaven there are empty places; yours it is to fill them . . .
you are as Moses praying on the mountain; ask of Me labourers
and I will send them, I await but a prayer, a sigh from out your
heart!

Is not the apostolate of prayer higher as one might say, than
that of preaching? It is for us to form labourers who by
preaching the Gospel, will save thousands of souls of whom we
thus become the mothers; what then have we to envy the Priests
of the Lord?

XII LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE


HOW beautiful is our vocation! It is for us, it is for Carmel to
preserve _"the salt of the earth."_ [4] We offer our prayers and
sacrifices for the apostles of the Lord; we ought ourselves to
be their apostles while by word and example they preach the
Gospel to our brethren.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VI

[4] Matt., v, 13.


A NOVICE was grieving about her numerous distractions during
prayer: "I too, have many," replied Sœur Thérèse de l'Enfant
Jésus, "but I accept all for love of the good God, even the most
extravagant thoughts that come into my head."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


HER prayer was continual though she was habitually plunged in
aridity. One day a novice entering her cell, paused, struck by
the celestial expression of her countenance. She was sewing with
alacrity yet seemed lost in profound contemplation.

"Of what are you thinking?" asked the young Sister. "I am
meditating on the _Pater_," she replied. "It is so sweet to call
the good God our Father." And tears shone in her eyes.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


I DO not well see what more I shall have in Heaven than now, she
once said. I shall see the good God, it is true; but as to being
with Him, I am wholly with Him already upon earth.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


A LIVING flame of Divine Love consumed her.

"A few days after my oblation to _God's Merciful Love_," she
relates, "I had commenced in the Choir the Way of the Cross,
when I felt myself suddenly wounded by a dart of fire so ardent
that I thought I must die. I know not how to describe this
transport; there is no comparison which would make one
understand the intensity of that flame. An invisible power
seemed to plunge me wholly into fire . . . but oh! what fire!
what sweetness!"

The Mother Prioress asked her whether this transport was the
first in her life, she answered simply:

"Mother, I have several times had transports of love; once
especially during my novitiate when I remained one entire week
far indeed from this world; for me, there was as it were, a veil
thrown over all things of the earth. But I was not consumed by a
real flame, I was able to sustain those delights without
expecting that their intensity would cause my earthly fetters to
snap asunder, whilst on the day of which I speak, one minute,
one second more and my soul must have left its prison . . .
Alas!--and I found myself again on earth, and aridity
immediately returned to my heart!"

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII



HOLY COMMUNION



HOW sweet it was, the first kiss of Jesus to my soul! Yes, it
was a kiss of Love. I felt I was loved, and I too said: "I love
Thee, I give myself to Thee for ever!" Jesus asked nothing of
me, demanded no sacrifice. Already for a long time past, He and
the little Thérèse had watched and understood one another . . .
That day our meeting was no longer a simple look but a _fusion_.
No longer were we two: Thérèse had disappeared as the drop of
water which loses itself in the depths of the ocean, Jesus alone
remained; the Master, the King! Had not Thérèse begged Him to
take away from her, her liberty? That liberty made her afraid;
so weak, so fragile did she feel herself that she longed to be
united for ever to Divine Strength.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IV


I HAD taken as my rule of conduct, to receive most faithfully
Holy Communion as often as my confessor permitted, without ever
asking that it might be more frequent. I would act differently
now; for I am quite sure that a soul ought to make known to her
director the attraction that she feels to receive her God. It is
not to remain in a golden ciborium that He comes down each day
from Heaven, but to find another Heaven, the Heaven of our soul
in which He takes His delight.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. V


WHAT shall I say of my thanksgivings after Holy Communion? There
are no moments in which I feel less consolation. And is not this
very natural, seeing that my desire is to receive our Lord's
visit, not for my own satisfaction, but solely for His pleasure.

I imagine my soul to be as a plot of waste ground and beg the
Blessed Virgin to remove from it all the rubbish--meaning its
imperfections; then I beseech her to erect thereon, a vast
canopy worthy of Heaven and to decorate it with her own
treasures, and I invite all the Angels and Saints to come and
sing canticles of love. It seems to me then that Jesus is
pleased to see Himself so magnificently received; and I, I share
His joy. All this does not hinder distractions and sleep from
molesting me; therefore it not rarely happens that I resolve to
continue my thanksgiving all the day long, since I have made it
so badly in the Choir.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII


AT the time of Holy Communion I sometimes picture my soul under
the figure of a little child of three or four years, who at play
has got its hair tossed and its clothes soiled.--These
misfortunes have befallen me in battling with souls.--But very
soon the Blessed Virgin hastens to my aid: quickly she takes off
my little dirty pinafore, smooths my hair and adorns it with a
pretty ribbon or simply with a little flower . . . and this
suffices to render me pleasing and enables me to sit at the
Banquet of Angels without blushing.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


THE demon, traitor that he is, knows well, that he cannot make a
soul who wills to belong wholly to the good God, commit sin;
therefore he endeavours only to persuade her that she sins. That
is a great deal gained, but it is not yet enough to satisfy his
rage . . . he aims at something further, he wants to deprive
Jesus of a loved tabernacle. Not being able himself to enter
into this sanctuary he wishes that it may at least remain empty
and without its Lord. Alas! what will become of this poor heart?
. . . When the devil has succeeded in driving away a soul from
Holy Communion he has gained his ends, and Jesus weeps. . .

I LETTER TO HER COUSIN MARIE GUÉRIN


A NOVICE relates that she wanted to deprive herself of Holy
Communion because of some lack of fidelity. She wrote her
determination to Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus who thus
replied:

"Little flower cherished by Jesus, it is amply sufficient that
by the humiliation of your soul your roots _eat of the
earth_ . . . You must open a little, or rather raise on high
your corolla so that the Bread of Angels may come as a divine
dew to strengthen you, and to give you all that is wanting to
you.

"Good-night, poor little floweret; ask of Jesus that all the
prayers offered for my recovery may serve to augment the fire
which must consume me."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES



SUFFERING [1]



[1] No reader should be discouraged by this chapter on
Suffering. What Sœur Thérèse says is very consoling for those
who are nailed to the Cross; and others must remember that God
had given to His humble Servant a _sensible_ attraction for
suffering, which is a rare grace and reserved to very few souls,
though many imagine they possess it, and mistake their road
choosing to follow this supposed attraction. Without the
sensible desire and even though experiencing an invincible
repugnance to suffer, souls can be sanctified. What pleases God
is that the suffering be borne with love.

THE cross has accompanied me from the cradle; but then, Jesus
has made me love it passionately.

IX LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"


ONE day my sister Marie, speaking of suffering, said that
instead of making me walk by that way, the good God would no
doubt carry me always like a little child. These words recurred
to me after Holy Communion on the following day, and my heart
was fired with an ardent desire of suffering. I felt too an
inward assurance, that crosses in great number were in reserve
for me. Then my soul was inundated with consolations such as I
have never had again in all my life. Suffering became my
attraction, in it I found charms that entranced me.

Another great desire that I felt, was to love but God alone and
to find no joy save only in Him. Often during my thanksgiving
after Holy Communion I used to repeat this passage from the
_Imitation: "O Jesus, who art ineffable sweetness, turn for me
into bitterness all the consolations of earth."_ [2] These words
came from my lips without effort; I uttered them like a child
who repeats without too well understanding, words prompted by a
friend.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IV

[2] _Imit_., III, ch. xxvi, 3.


SUFFERING has held out its arms to me from my very entrance into
Carmel and lovingly have I embraced it. My intention in coming
here, I declared in the solemn examination which preceded my
profession: _I am come in order to save souls, and especially to
pray for Priests_. When we want to attain an end we must employ
the means, and Jesus having made me understand that He would
give me souls by means of the cross, the more crosses I met with
the more my attraction to suffering increased. During five years
this way was mine; but I alone knew it. Here was just the hidden
flower that I wanted to offer to Jesus, this flower which
exhaled its fragrance for Heaven alone.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VII


FOR one pain endured with joy, we shall love the good God more
for ever.

I LETTER TO MÈRE AGNÈS DE JÉSUS


IN my soul's intercourse with Jesus--nothing . . . dryness!
sleep! Since my Beloved wills to sleep I shall not hinder Him; I
am too happy in seeing that He does not treat me like a
stranger, that He is not constrained with me. He pierces His
little ball through and through with pin-pricks sore
indeed . . . When it is this tender Friend who Himself pierces
His ball, the pain is naught but sweetness--so gentle is His
Hand. How different when creatures pierce it!

Yet I am happy, yes, truly happy to suffer. If Jesus does not
Himself directly pierce His little ball, it is certainly He who
guides the hand that wounds!

II LETTER TO MÈRE AGNÈS DE JÉSUS


YES, I desire them, those heart-thrusts, those pin-pricks that
give so much pain . . . Sacrifice I prefer to all ecstacies:
therein lies happiness for me, I find it nowhere else. _The
little reed_ has no fear of breaking, for it is planted on the
shore of the waters of Love; and so, when it bends, that
beneficent wave invigorates it, and makes it long for another
storm to come and bow down its head anew. My weakness it is,
that makes my whole strength. Whatever happens I cannot get
broken; I see only the gentle hand of Jesus.

To win the palm no suffering is too great.

III LETTER TO MÈRE AGNÈS DE JÉSUS


THE drop of gall must be mingled in every cup, but I find that
trials greatly help to detach us from earth; they make us look
higher than this world. Nothing here below can satisfy us; we
can enjoy a little repose only by being ready to do God's Will.

I LETTER TO MÈRE AGNÈS DE JÉSUS


MY soul has known many kinds of trials, greatly have I suffered
here on earth. In my childhood I suffered with sadness; now, it
is with peace and joy that I taste of all the bitter fruits.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX


SUFFERING united to love is the only thing that appears to me
desirable in this vale of tears.

IX LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"


WHEN we are expecting only suffering the least joy surprises us:
suffering itself becomes the greatest of joys when we seek it as
a precious treasure.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX


THERE are people who take everything in the way that gives them
the most pain; with me it is the reverse; I see always the good
side of things. If I have naught but pure suffering, without any
break, well! I make of it my joy.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


JOY is not in the things that surround us, it resides in the
interior of the soul. One may possess it in the depths of a
gloomy prison, as well as in a royal palace. Thus am I happier
in Carmel, even in the midst of interior and exterior trials,
than in the world, where nothing was wanting to me.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VI


IF now, amid trials, and in the thick of the fight, we can
already find such delight in the thought that God has drawn us
away from the world, what will it be, when in Heaven's eternal
glory and never-ending rest, we shall understand the
incomparable favour He has shown us in choosing us here, to
dwell in His own House--the very threshold of Heaven.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. X


LET us not expect to find Love without Suffering. Our nature is
there, and it is not there for nothing; but what treasures it
enables us to acquire! It is our means of gain; so precious is
it that Jesus came down upon earth expressly to possess it . . .
We want to suffer generously, grandly; we wish never to fall;
what illusion! And what does it matter to me if I fall every
minute? I find great profit in it, for thereby I see my
weakness. My God, You know what I am capable of unless You carry
me in Your arms; and if You leave me alone, well; it is that it
pleases you to see me _on the ground_, so why should I be
disquieted?

V LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE


LIFE is often irksome and bitter; it is hard to begin a
laborious day, above all when Jesus hides Himself from us. What
is this tender Friend doing? Does He not then see our anguish,
the load that oppresses us; where is He? Why does He not come to
console us?

Ah, fear not . . . He is there, quite near! He is watching us;
He, it is, who begs for these our labours and our tears . . . He
has need of them for souls, for our soul; He wants to give us so
glorious a recompense. Ah! truly, it costs Him to make us drink
of this bitter cup, but He knows that it is the one way by which
to prepare us to know Him as He knows Himself and to become
ourselves God-like. What a destiny! How great is the soul. Let
us rise above all that passes away, let us hold aloof from the
earth, up on high the air is so pure; Jesus may hide Himself but
one is conscious of His presence.

I LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE


WHEN we speak of peace we do not mean joy--not at least sensible
joy; to suffer in peace it is enough that we truly will all that
God wills.

V LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE


NOTWITHSTANDING the trial which deprives me of every feeling of
enjoyment I can yet exclaim, _"Thou hast given me delight, O
Lord, in all Thou dost."_ [3] For is there a greater joy than to
suffer for Thy Love? The more intense the suffering and the less
apparent to human eyes, the more lovingly dost Thou smile upon
it, O my God. And even--supposing an impossibility--if Thou wert
unaware of it, I would still be happy to suffer, in the hope
that by my tears I might perhaps prevent, or make reparation for
one single sin against faith.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX

[3] Ps., xci, 5.


MINE is not an unfeeling heart, and it is just because of its
capacity to suffer deeply that I desire to offer to Jesus every
kind of suffering it can endure.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX


LIFE is full of sacrifices, it is true; but why look for
happiness in it? Is it not simply "a night to be passed in a bad
Inn" as says our Holy Mother Saint Teresa?

My heart has an ardent thirst for happiness, but well do I see
that no creature is capable of allaying this thirst. On the
contrary, the more I might drink of the waters of that enchanted
spring the more burning would be my thirst.

I know a fountain where _they that drink shall yet thirst,_ [4]
but with a thirst most sweet, a thirst one can always satisfy;
this fountain is the suffering that is known to Jesus
alone! . . .

II LETTER TO SR. MARIE DU SACRÉ-CŒUR

[4] _Cf_. Eccles., xxiv, 29.


OUR Lord never asks of us any sacrifice above our strength.
Sometimes, in truth, the Divine Master makes us taste the full
bitterness of the chalice which He presents to our soul. When He
asks the sacrifice of everything most dear to us in this world,
it is impossible unless by a very special grace, not to cry out
as He did in the Garden of the Agony: _"My Father, let this
chalice pass from Me. . ."_ But let us also hasten to add:
_"Nevertheless not as I will but as Thou wilt."_ [5] It is very
consoling to think that Jesus--Divine Strength itself--has
experienced all our weakness, that He trembled at the sight of
the bitter chalice, the chalice He had longed for so ardently.

I LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"

[5] Matt., xxvi, 39.


SINCE our Well-Beloved has _"trodden the wine-press alone."_
[6]--the wine which He gives us to drink--in our turn let us not
refuse to wear garments dyed with blood, let us press out for
Jesus a new wine which may slake His thirst, and _looking around
Him_ He will no longer be able to say that _He is alone_; we
shall be there _to help_. [7]

Neglect, forgetfulness . . . this it is, it seems to me, which
still pains Him the most.

VIII LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE

[6] Isa., lxiii, 3.
[7] Isa., lxiii, 5.


HERE on earth, where all changes, one sole thing changes not,
the King of Heaven's mode of acting as regards His friends. Ever
since He uplifted the standard of the Cross, it is in its shadow
that all must fight and gain the victory.

VI LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"


IT is indeed more through suffering and persecution than through
eloquent preaching, that God wills to establish His Kingdom in
souls.

VI LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"


I WANT to forget this world; here below, all things weary me, I
find no joy save one, that of suffering . . . and this joy,
though unfelt, is above every other.

V LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE


WHEN I suffer much, when things that are painful and
disagreeable befall me, instead of assuming an air of sadness, I
respond by a smile. At first I was not always successful, but
now it is a habit which I am very happy to have acquired.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


[Picture of Saint Thérèse.]
THE SERVANT OF GOD
SR. THÉRÈSE OF THE CHILD JESUS
AND OF THE HOLY FACE
_Carmelite of the Monastery of Liseux_
1873-1897


A NOVICE was complaining of being more tired than her Sisters,
for besides the common work, she had done another task, of which
they knew nothing; Thérèse answered: "I want to see you always
like a valiant soldier who does not complain of his pains; who
thinks very seriously of the wounds of his brothers and regards
his own as mere scratches. Why do you feel this fatigue to such
a degree? It is because no one knows about it. . .

"Blessed Margaret Mary having had two whitlows used to say she
had only really suffered from the first one, because it had not
been possible for her to hide the second from her Sisters, and
thus it became the object of their compassion.

"This feeling is natural to us; yet to wish that all should know
when we suffer is a very commonplace manner of acting."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


DURING the first months of her illness it was on her hard
palliasse that Sister Thérèse passed the time of rest, and her
nights were very bad: when asked whether she did not need some
assistance during those hours of pain, she replied: "Oh, no on
the contrary, I think myself very fortunate to be in a cell
distant enough for my Sisters not to hear me. I rejoice to
suffer alone; but from the moment I am pitied and surrounded
with delicate attentions I can no longer feel this joy."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


THE Sister infirmarian remarking, "It is said that you have
never suffered very much." Thérèse smiled and pointing to a
glass containing a draught of medicine, bright red in colour,
replied, "See this little glass, one would imagine it full of
some choice liqueur, but in reality I take nothing that is more
bitter. Well! it is an image of my life; to the eyes of others
it has ever appeared clothed in the most radiant hues; to them
it seemed as though I drank a delicious liqueur, while in truth
it was bitterness. I say bitterness, and yet my life has not
been bitter, for I have known how to make of all bitterness my
sweetness and my joy."

"You are in great pain at this moment, are you not?" "Yes . . .
but I have so much desired to suffer."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


"HOW it grieves us to see you suffer, and to think you may
perhaps have still more to endure," the novices were saying to
her.

"Oh! do not be troubled about me, I have arrived at the stage of
being no longer able to suffer, because all suffering is sweet
to me."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


A SISTER, who doubted her patience, noticed, when visiting her
one day, an expression of heavenly joy on her countenance and
wished to know the reason. "It is because of the very acute pain
I am feeling," replied Thérèse, "I have always striven to love
suffering and to give it a cordial welcome."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


"WHY are you so gay this morning?" she was asked; "It is because
I have had two little trials, nothing gives me _little joys_
like _little trials_."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


ANOTHER time: "You have had a great many trials today."

"Yes, but . . . seeing that I love them! . . . I love everything
the good God sends me."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


AGAIN, when some one said to her: "It is dreadful--all you are
suffering."

"No, it is not dreadful; could a little Victim of Love find
anything dreadful that her Spouse sends her? He gives me at each
moment what I can bear; not more; and the minute He increases my
sufferings He also augments my fortitude.

"Yet I could never ask for greater sufferings, for I am too
little; they would be my own--my own choosing, then I should
have to bear them by myself, and I have never been able to do
anything all alone."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


DURING her long and painful agony she exclaimed: "The chalice is
full to the brim. Never could I have believed it possible to
suffer so much . . . I can only find the explanation in my
extreme longing to save souls . . . Oh! I would not suffer
less."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII



THE DIRECTION OF SOULS



OUR Lord allowed me the consolation of closely studying the
souls of children.

Considering these innocent souls I used to compare them to soft
wax, upon which any impression may be stamped the bad, alas!
like the good; and I understood those words of Jesus: "_But he
that shall scandalize one of these little ones . . . it were
better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck and
that he were drowned in the depth of the sea_." [1] Oh! how many
souls might attain to a high degree of holiness if wisely guided
from the very first.

I well know that to accomplish His work of sanctification, God
has need of no one, but just as He enables a skilful gardener to
rear plants that are delicate and rare, granting him for this
end all the knowledge necessary, while reserving to Himself the
care of giving the increase, so, too, does He will to be aided
in His divine culture of souls.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. V

[1] Matt., xviii, 6.


AS soon as I penetrated into the sanctuary of souls I judged at
the first glance that the task exceeded my powers, and very
quickly placing myself in the arms of the good God I imitated
the little child, who, seized with sudden fear, tries to hide
its golden head on its father's shoulder, and I said: "Lord,
Thou knowest it, I am myself too little to be capable of
nurturing these Thy children; if Thou dost will to give to them,
through me, what is suited to each one, fill Thou my little
hand, and without leaving Thine arms, without even turning my
head aside, I will distribute Thy treasures to the souls who
come to me to seek sustenance. When they find it to their liking
I shall know that it is not to me they owe it but to Thee; on
the other hand if they complain, and find bitter what I offer
them, my peace shall remain undisturbed, I will try to convince
them that this nutriment comes from Thee, and I will carefully
refrain from seeking any other for them."

When I thus understood that it was impossible for me to do
anything by myself, the task appeared to me simplified.
Interiorly, I occupied myself solely in trying to become more
and more united to God--knowing that the rest would be added
unto me.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. X


FROM afar it seems easy to do good to souls, to make them love
God more, to mould them after our own views and opinions. But
coming closer one feels, on the contrary, that to do good
without the divine assistance, is as impossible a thing as to
bring the sun back after it has set. One feels that it is
absolutely necessary to forget our own inclinations, our
personal notions, and to guide souls, not by our own way--the
way we ourselves go--but by the particular way that Jesus wishes
to lead them.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. X


WHEN very young, and staying with my aunt, a book was given to
me to read. In one of the stories I saw that the mistress of a
school was much praised because she knew how to get on cleverly
in the world without offending anyone. This phrase I remarked
especially: "She would say to the one, 'You are not wrong,' and
to the other, 'You are right;" and while I read I was thinking:
"Oh! . . . I would not have acted thus; we must always tell the
truth." And so I do, always. Far more difficult it certainly is,
for when told of some little vexatious occurrence, it would be
easy to lay blame on the absent, and she who complains would at
once be pacified. Yes, but . . . I do quite the reverse. If I am
not liked, what matter! Let no one come to me who does not want
to hear the truth.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


THAT a reprimand may be fruitful it must cost in the giving; and
it must be given without a shade of passion in the heart.

One must not let kindness degenerate into weakness. When we have
blamed justly we ought to leave it so, and not yield to feelings
of distress at having given pain. To run after the aggrieved one
in order to console her, is to do more harm than good. To leave
her to herself is to force her to expect nothing from creatures,
to have recourse to the good God, to see her failings and to
humble herself. Otherwise she would grow accustomed to being
consoled after a deserved rebuke and would behave as does a
spoilt child, who stamps and cries, well knowing that this will
make its mother return to wipe away the tears.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


_LET the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God, abound
in your lips and hearts._ [2] If we have to do with a difficult
soul, let us not be discouraged, nor ever abandon her. Let us
have always "_the sword of the Spirit_" to reprehend her for her
faults, and not allow things to pass for the sake of leaving
ourselves in repose; let us fight unceasingly, even without hope
of gaining the victory. What matter about success! Let us fight
on, whatever be the weariness of the struggle. Let us not say:
"I can make nothing of this soul, she does not understand; I
must give it up." Oh! what cowardice that would be. We must do
our duty unto the end.

[Sœur Thérèse in these passages refers to her charge as Mistress
of Novices.]

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

[2] Ephes., vi, 17.


THE novices expressed their surprise at finding that she guessed
their most hidden thoughts.

"Here is my secret," she said to them: "I never give you any
advice without invoking the Blessed Virgin; I ask her to inspire
me to say what will do you the most good, and I myself am often
astonished at the things that I teach you. I simply feel in
saying them to you, that I am not deceived and that Jesus speaks
to you by my mouth."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


"GIVE us some advice as to how we ought to act concerning our
spiritual direction," they said to her.

"With great simplicity and without depending too much on
assistance, which may fail you at any moment. You would soon be
forced to say with the Spouse in the Canticles: '_The
keepers . . . took away my veil from me and wounded me_,' it
was only '_when I had a little PASSED BY them I found Him whom
my soul loveth_.' [3] If with detachment you humbly inquire
where is your Beloved, _the keepers_ will direct you.
Nevertheless, most frequently, you will find Jesus only after
you have _passed by_ all creatures. For my part, I have many
a time repeated this verse of the Spiritual Canticle of St.
John of the Cross:

  Send me no more
  A messenger
  Who cannot tell me what I seek.
  All they who serve
  Relate a thousand graces of Thee;
  And all wound me more and more,
  And they leave me dying,
  WHILE THEY BABBLE I KNOW NOT WHAT."

  _Trans. D. Lewis, M. A._

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

[3] Cant., v, 7; iii, 4.



THE BLESSED VIRGIN



HOW I love the Blessed Virgin! Had I been a Priest, oh! how I
should have spoken of her. She is represented as unapproachable,
rather ought she to be shown as imitable. She is more Mother
than Queen. I have heard it said that all the Saints are
eclipsed by her radiant brightness as the sun at rising makes
the stars disappear. How strange that seems--a mother eclipsing
the glory of her children! I think quite the contrary. I believe
that she will immensely increase the splendour of the
elect . . . The Virgin Mary! how simple does her life appear
to me. . .

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


SOMETIMES I find myself saying to the Holy Virgin: "Do you know,
O cherished Mother, that I think myself more fortunate than you?
I have you for Mother and you have not, like me, the Blessed
Virgin to love . . . You are, it is true, the Mother of Jesus,
but you have given Him to me, and He, from the cross gave you to
us as our Mother, so we are richer than you. Of old it was your
desire that you might be the little handmaiden of the Mother of
God; and I, poor little creature, I am, not your servant, but
your _child_: you are the Mother of Jesus and you are _my
Mother_."

XIII LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE


O MARY, if I were Queen of Heaven and thou wert Thérèse, I fain
would be Thérèse to see thee Queen of Heaven!

8 September, 1897.

Last words written by Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus.



VARIOUS SUBJECTS



LÉONIE, no doubt finding that she was growing too old to play
with dolls, came one day to Céline and me, with a basket full of
dolls' clothes, odds and ends of pretty materials, trimmings,
etc., on which she had laid her doll, saying to us: "There,
little sisters--choose!" Céline looked, and took a knot of
edging. After reflecting a moment I, in turn, put out my hand
saying: "I choose all!" and I carried off basket and doll
without further ceremony.

This trait of my childhood is, as it were, a summary of my
entire life. Later on when the meaning of perfection began to
unfold itself to me, I understood that to become a saint it is
necessary to suffer much, ever to seek after that which is most
perfect, and to forget self. I understood that in sanctity the
degrees are many, that each soul is free to respond to the
advances of our Lord, to do little or much for His sake, in a
word, to choose between the sacrifices that He asks. Then, as in
the days of my childhood, I exclaimed: "My God, I choose all! I
do not wish to be a saint by halves; the thought of suffering
for Thee does not frighten me, one thing only do I fear--my own
will; take Thou my will, for _I choose all_ that Thou willest."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. I


MY Father took me for a pleasant tour during which I began to
know a little of the world. Around me all was gaiety and
delight; I was made welcome, petted, admired, in short, for
fifteen days the pathway of my life was strewn with naught but
flowers. Holy Wisdom well says that _the bewitching of trifles
overturneth the innocent mind._ [1] At the age of ten the heart
easily allows itself to be dazzled, and I own that this sort of
life had some charms for me. Alas! how well the world contrives
to reconcile the delights of earth with the service of God. How
seldom does it think of death.

And death, nevertheless, has come to a great many of the people
whom I then knew, young, rich and prosperous. I like to go back
in thought to their beautiful dwellings, to ask myself where are
they, and what benefit do they now draw from the castles and
parks where I saw them enjoying all the comforts of life . . .
And I reflect that _"all is vanity"_ [2] _"but to love God and
to serve Him alone."_ [3]

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IV

[1] _Cf._ Wisdom, iv, 12.
[2] Eccles., i, 2.
[3] _Imit_., I, i, 3.


WHAT compassion I have for souls who are going astray. It is so
easy to lose one's way in the flowery paths of the world.
Undoubtedly for a soul who has risen a little above the things
of earth, the sweetness offered is intermingled with bitterness,
and the immense void of its desires cannot be filled by the
praises of a moment.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IV


WE have but life's brief day to save souls and thus to give to
Jesus proof of our love. The morrow of this day will be Eternity
and then He will render to you a hundredfold for the joys which
you have sacrificed for Him. He knows the extent of your
sacrifice, He knows that the grief of those dear to you
increases your own still more; but to save our souls He has
Himself suffered this martyrdom. He too, left His Mother, He saw
the Immaculate Virgin stand at the foot of the Cross, her heart
transpierced by the sword of sorrow.

Ah! if the Divine Master would but grant to those whom you are
going to leave for His sake, a foresight of the glory He
reserves for you, the multitude of souls who in heaven will form
your train, they would be already recompensed for their great
sacrifice in parting with you.

II LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"


THE good God has promised a hundredfold to all who have left
father or mother or sister for love of Him. These words are, I
know, usually applied to those who have entered the religious
state, but in my heart I feel that they were also spoken for the
generous parents who make to God the sacrifice of children whom
they cherish more than self.

LETTER TO HER COUSIN JEANNE GUÉRIN


HOW can a heart given up to human affection be united intimately
to God? That, I feel is not possible. I have seen so many souls
deluded by this treacherous light, dart into it like the poor
moth and burn their wings, then return wounded to Jesus, the
Divine Fire which burns without consuming.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IV


IN giving oneself to God the heart does not lose its natural
tenderness; on the contrary, its love grows deeper by becoming
more pure and more Christ-like.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX


THERE are souls for whom God's mercy wearies not of waiting, and
to whom He gives His light only by degrees.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. X


WHEN in the morning we feel no courage, no energy for the
practice of virtue, this is a grace, this is the moment to _"lay
the axe to the root of the tree,"_ [4] depending solely on
Jesus. If we fall all is retrieved by an act of love, and Jesus
smiles. He helps us without appearing to do so, and the tears
which the wicked cause Him to shed are dried by our poor feeble
love.

II LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE

[4] Matt., iii, 10.


WE must practice the little virtues. This is difficult
sometimes, but the good God never refuses the first grace, which
gives courage to conquer self: if the soul corresponds to it she
will find that she immediately receives light. I have ever been
struck with those words of praise to Judith: _"Thou hast done
manfully, and thy heart has been strengthened."_ [5] We must
first act with courage, then the heart is strengthened and we go
from victory to victory.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

[5] Judith, xv, 11.


MY God, how varied are the ways by which Thou dost lead souls.
In reading the Lives of the Saints we find a great number of
whom nothing has remained to us after their death: not the
smallest souvenir, not a written line. Others there are, on the
contrary, like our Holy Mother Saint Teresa, who have enriched
the Church with their sublime doctrine, not fearing _to reveal
the secrets of the King,_ [6] in the hope that souls might know
Him better and love Him more. Which of these two ways pleases
our Lord best? It seems to me that they are equally pleasing to
Him.

All the well-beloved of God have followed the inspiration of the
Holy Spirit by whom the Prophet wrote: _"Say to the just that
all is well."_ [7] Yes, all is well when we seek only the Divine
Will.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX

[6] Tobias, xii.
[7] _Cf._ Isaias, iii, 10.


HOW narrow are the thoughts of creatures! When they see that a
soul has lights which surpass their own, they conclude that the
Divine Master loves them less. Since when, then, has He lost the
right to make use of one of His creatures, in order to dispense
to His children the sustenance needful for them?

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. X


WHEN we are grieved at our powerlessness to do good, our only
resource is to offer to God the works of others. In this you see
the benefit of the communion of Saints.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


THOUGH I do not undervalue beautiful thoughts that seem to unite
us to God, I have long understood that we must carefully guard
against leaning too much upon them. The most sublime
inspirations are nothing without deeds.

Other souls, it is true, may draw therefrom much profit if they
testify humble gratitude to God for being permitted to share the
feast of one of His privileged children. But if the privileged
one were to grow vain of her spiritual riches, if her prayer
resembled that of the Pharisee, she herself would become like to
a person starving to death before a well-served table while all
her guests take from it abundant nourishment, and cast perhaps a
look of envy on the possessor of so much wealth.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. X


THE Well-Beloved has no need of our glorious deeds nor of our
fine thoughts. If He desire sublime conceptions has He not His
Angels, whose knowledge surpasses infinitely that of the world's
greatest geniuses? It is not then either intellect or talent
that He looks for here below . . . He has called Himself _the
Flower of the Field_ [8] to show us how much He cherishes
simplicity.

XIV LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE

[8] Cant., ii, 1.


TO keep the word of Jesus, this is the sole condition of our
happiness, the proof of our love for Him; and this _word_--it
seems to me that it is Himself, since He is called the Uncreated
_Word_ of the Father.

XVIII LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE


JESUS needs neither books nor Doctors of Divinity in order to
instruct souls; He, the Doctor of Doctors, He teaches without
noise of words.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII


AT Sext there is a verse which I utter unwillingly each day. It
is this: "_Inclinavi cor meum ad faciendas justificationes tuas
in æternum, propter retributionem_." (I have inclined my heart
to do Thy justifications for ever, because of the reward.) [9]
Interiorly, I hasten to say: "O my Jesus, Thou knowest well that
it is not for the reward I serve Thee, but solely because I love
Thee, and for the sake of saving souls."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

[9] Ps., cxviii, 112.


IN Heaven only shall we see the absolute truth concerning all
things. On earth, even in the Holy Scripture, there is a certain
obscurity: it grieves me to see differences in the translations;
had I been a Priest I would have learned Hebrew, so that I might
be able to read the Word of God in that human language in which
He deigned to express it.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


WE are not yet in our Fatherland, and temptation must purify us
as gold is purified by the action of fire.

XVIII LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE


IT is best not to expose oneself to the combat when defeat is
certain.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX


GOD is often satisfied with our desire of labouring for His
glory.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX


A SOUL in the state of grace has nothing to fear from the
demons, who are cowards, capable of flight before the gaze of a
child.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. I


_TO the pure all is pure,_ [10] the simple and upright soul sees
not evil in anything, since evil exists in impure hearts only
and not in material objects.

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VI

[10] Titus, i, 15.


THE good God has told us that in the Last Day He "_will wipe
away all tears from our eyes_," [11] and without doubt, the more
tears to be dried, the greater will be the consolation.

III LETTER TO SR. MARIE DU SACRÉ-CŒUR

[11] Apoc., xxi, 4.


THE Spouse in the Canticles, not having been able in repose to
find her Beloved, arose, she says and went about the city to
seek Him, but in vain . . . she could not find Him save beyond
the ramparts. It is not the will of Jesus that we should find
His adorable Presence without effort. He hides Himself, He
envelopes Himself with darkness . . . It was not thus He acted
in regard to the multitudes, for we read in the Gospels that the
people were in admiration when He spoke.

Weak souls Jesus charmed by His divine utterances. He was trying
to render them strong for the day of temptation and of trial;
but small, truly, was the number of His faithful friends when
_He was silent_ [12] before His judges. Oh, what melody for my
heart is that silence of the Divine Master.

XV LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE

[12] Matt., xxvi, 65.


I HAVE read in the Holy Gospel that the Divine Shepherd leaves
in the desert all His faithful flock, to go in haste after the
sheep that is lost. How touching is this confidence. He is sure
of them, they are captives of love--how could they break away?
Even so does the well-beloved Shepherd of our souls rob us of
the sense of His presence in order to give to sinners His
consolations; or else, if He leads us to Mount Thabor it is for
one moment . . . the valleys are nearly always the place of
pasture, _it is there He takes His repose at mid-day._ [13]

XVI LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE

[13] Cant., i, 6.


THE sole crime with which Herod reproached our Lord was _folly_
. . . and frankly, that charge was true. Yes, it was folly to
come seeking the poor shallow hearts of mortals, therein to make
His throne. He, the King of Glory Who sitteth above the
Cherubim! Was not His happiness complete in the company of His
Father and the Spirit of Love? Why come to earth to seek out
sinners and to make of them His friends, His chosen companions?

XX LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE


_MARY, breaking the fragile vase poured out upon the Head of her
Saviour a perfume of great price_ [14] _and the whole house was
filled with the fragrance thereof._ [15]

The Apostles murmured against Magdalene; and this it is which
still happens with regard to us: some, even of the most fervent
Christians think we (Carmelites) are exaggerated, that like
Martha we ought to serve Jesus, instead of consecrating to Him
the vases of our lives with the perfumes which are hidden
within. And yet what matters it--the breaking of these vases--
since our Lord is consoled, and the world in spite of itself is
made sensible of the fragrance they exhale. And oh! how
necessary are these perfumes to purify the unhealthy atmosphere
that it breathes.

XX LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE

[14] _Cf_. Marc., xiii, 3.
[15] _Cf_. John, xii, 3.


"ONE day when I was in tears," relates a novice, "Sister Thérèse
of the Child Jesus told me to acquire a habit of hiding my
little troubles, adding that nothing renders community life more
difficult than inequality of temperament.

"You are quite right," I answered, "I have thought so myself,
and in future I shall never cry but when alone with the good
God; to Him only shall I confide my trials, He will always
understand and console me."

"Shed tears before the good God!" she replied with vivacity,
"take care you do no such thing. Still less, by far, before Him
than before creatures ought you to exhibit signs of sadness. He
has but our monasteries, this dear Master, to rejoice His Heart;
He comes amongst us to find a little repose, to forget the
continual lamentations of His friends in the world who for the
most part, instead of recognizing the value of the Cross, meet
it with repining and with tears; and would you behave like the
generality of people? . . . Frankly that is not disinterested
love--disinterested love is _for us to console Jesus, not for
Him to console us._

"He is, I know, so kind of heart that if you weep He will dry
your tears; but afterwards He will go away quite sorrowful, not
being able to find in you the repose He sought. Jesus loves the
joyous heart, He loves the ever smiling soul. When will you
learn to _hide_ your troubles from Him, or to tell Him in
gladsome tones that you are happy to suffer for His sake?"

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


THE soul is reflected in the countenance: like to a little child
always content, your countenance should be invariably calm and
serene. When you are alone be still the same, because you are
ever in the Angels' sight.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


OUR Divine Lord wishes to have His court here below as on High,
He desires angel-martyrs, angel-apostles.

XI LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE


A SISTER, greatly grieved at seeing her so ill often exclaimed:
"Oh, how sad is life!" But Sœur Thérèse would at once correct
her, saying:

"Life is not sad, but on the contrary most joyful. If you said
'How sad is our exile,' I should understand you. It is erroneous
to give the name, '_life_,' to that which must end. Only to the
things of Heaven, to that which shall never know death, should
the true name of '_life_' be given; and in this signification
life is not sad but joyful--joyous exceedingly! . . . "

Her own gaiety was delightful to witness.

For several days she had been much better and the novices said
to her: "We do not yet know of what malady you will die . . . "

"But I shall die of _death!_ Did not God tell Adam of what he
would die, saying to him: Thou shalt die of death?" (In the
French: "_Tu mourras de mort_.") [16]

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

[16] _Cf_. Gen., ii, 17.


IT is not Death that will come to fetch me, it is the good God.
Death is no phantom, no horrible spectre, as represented in
pictures. In the Catechism it is stated that _death is the
separation of soul and body_, that is all! Well, I am not afraid
of a separation which will unite me to the good God for ever.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


ONE day she said to the Mother Prioress:

"Mother, I beseech you, give me permission to die . . . Let me
offer my life for . . . " mentioning the intention.

And this permission being refused:

"Very well," she resumed, "I know that at this moment the good
God so much desires _a little bunch of grapes_ which no one
wishes to present to Him, that He will certainly be forced to
come and steal it . . . I ask nothing, for that would be to
depart from my way of abandonment, I merely beg the Blessed
Virgin Mary to recall to her Jesus the title of _Thief_ which He
gives Himself in the holy Gospel, so that He may not forget to
come to _steal_ me away."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


"WILL the Divine Thief be coming very soon to steal His little
bunch of grapes?" some one asked.

"I see Him afar off, and I take good care not to cry out 'Stop
Thief!!!' On the contrary I call Him saying: 'This way! this
way!'"

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


THE Chaplain asked me: "Are you resigned to die?" I said: "Ah!
Father, I find it would be for living that I should need
resignation, but as regards dying, I feel only joy."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII


"YOU will be placed amid the Seraphim in Heaven," a novice said.

"If that should happen, I shall not imitate them; they cover
themselves with their wings at the sight of God. I shall take
good care not to cover myself with my wings!"

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


"UNDER what name should we pray to you when you are in Heaven?"
they asked her. She answered humbly: "You will call me 'little
Thérèse.' ('_petite Thérèse_.')"

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


"YOU will look upon us from the heights of heaven, will you
not?"

"No, I shall come down."

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES


"AFTER my death I shall let fall a shower of roses."

HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XIII



PRAYER FOR THE BEATIFICATION OF THE SERVANT OF GOD


[Transcriber's Note: Sister Thérèse was beatified on April 29,
1923.]


O JESUS, who, to put our pride to confusion didst will to become
a little child, and who later pronounced that solemn decree:
"_Unless ye become as little children ye shall not enter the
Kingdom of Heaven_," deign to listen to our humble prayer in
regard to her who lived perfectly that life of spiritual
childhood, and who has so well recalled to us the way.

O little Babe of Bethlehem, by the ineffable charms of Thy
Divine Infancy, O adorable Face of Jesus, by the humiliations of
Thy Passion, we implore, that if it be for the glory of God and
for the sanctification of souls, the halo of the Blessed may
soon irradiate the pure brow of Thy childlike spouse, Thérèse of
the Child Jesus and of the Holy Face.

O God, who didst inflame with Thy Spirit of Love the soul of Thy
Servant, Thérèse of the Child Jesus, grant that we also may love
Thee and may make Thee greatly loved.

[_Adapted from a prayer of Sœur Thérèse_.]

  100 days' indulgence.
  CARD. BOURNE, _Arch. of Westminster._
  August 1, 1912.