Now we have nothing more to hope for on earth--"the cool evenings are pa.s.sed"[4]--for us suffering alone remains! Ours is an enviable lot, and the Seraphim in Heaven are jealous of our happiness.
The other day I came across this striking pa.s.sage: "To be resigned and to be united to the will of G.o.d are not the same; there is the same difference between them as that which exists between union and unity; in union there are still two, in unity there is but one."[5] Yes, let us be one with G.o.d even in this life; and for this we should be more than resigned, we should embrace the Cross with joy.
IV
February 28, 1889.
MY DEAR LITTLE SISTER,--Jesus is "a Spouse of blood."[6] He wishes for Himself all the blood of our hearts. You are right--it costs us dear to give Him what He asks. But what a joy that it does cost! It is happiness to bear our crosses, and to feel our weakness in doing so.
Celine, far from complaining to Our Lord of this cross which He sends us, I cannot fathom the Infinite Love which had led Him to treat us in this way. Our dear Father must indeed be loved by G.o.d to have so much suffering given to him. I know that by humiliation alone can Saints be made, and I also know that our trial is a mine of gold for us to turn to account. I, who am but a little grain of sand, wish to set to work, though I have neither courage nor strength. Now this very want of power will make my task easier, for I wish to work for love. Our martyrdom is beginning ... Let us go forth to suffer together, dear sister, and let us offer our sufferings to Jesus for the salvation of souls.
V
March 12, 1899.
... I must forget this world. Here everything wearies me--I find only one joy, that of suffering, and this joy, which is not one of sense, is above all joy. Life is pa.s.sing, and eternity is drawing near. Soon we shall live the very life of G.o.d. After we have been filled at the source of all bitterness, our thirst will be quenched at the very Fountain of all sweetness.
"The figure of this world pa.s.seth away"[7]--soon we shall see new skies--a more radiant sun will light with its splendour crystal seas and infinite horizons. We shall no longer be prisoners in a land of exile, all will have pa.s.sed away, and with our Heavenly Spouse we shall sail upon boundless seas. Now, "our harps are hanging on the willows which grow by the rivers of Babylon,"[8]
but in the day of our deliverance what harmonies will they not give forth, how joyfully shall we make all their strings vibrate!
Now, "we shed tears as we remember Sion, for how can we sing the songs of the Lord in a land of exile?"[9] The burden of our song is suffering. Jesus offers us a chalice of great bitterness. Let us not withdraw our lips from it, but suffer in peace. He who says _peace_ does not say _joy,_ or at least sensible joy: to suffer in peace it is enough to will heartily all that Our Lord wills. Do not think we can find love without suffering, for our nature remains and must be taken into account; but it puts great treasures within our reach. Suffering is indeed our very livelihood, and is so precious that Jesus came down upon earth on purpose to possess it. We should like to suffer generously and n.o.bly; we should like never to fall. What an illusion! What does it matter to me if I fall at every moment! In that way I realise my weakness, and I gain thereby. My G.o.d, Thou seest how little I am good for, when Thou dost carry me in Thy Arms; and if Thou leavest me alone, well, it is because it pleases Thee to see me lie on the ground. Then why should I be troubled?
If you are willing to bear in peace the trial of not being pleased with yourself, you will be offering the Divine Master a home in your heart. It is true that you will suffer, because you will be like a stranger to your own house; but do not be afraid--the poorer you are, the more Jesus will love you. I know that He is better pleased to see you stumbling in the night upon a stony road, than walking in the full light of day upon a path carpeted with flowers, because these flowers might hinder your advance.
VI
July 14, 1889.
MY DARLING SISTER,--I am ever with you in spirit. Yes, it is very hard to live upon this earth, but to-morrow, in a brief hour, we shall be at rest. O my G.o.d, what shall we then see? What is this life which will have no end? Our Lord will be the soul of our soul. O unsearchable mystery! "Eye hath not seen nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man what things G.o.d hath prepared for them that love Him."[10] And all this will come soon--very soon--if we love Jesus ardently. It seems to me that G.o.d has no need of years to perfect His labour of love in a soul.
One ray from His Heart can in an instant make His flower blossom forth, never to fade... . Celine, during the fleeting moments that remain to us, let us save souls! I feel that Our Spouse asks us for souls--above all, for the souls of Priests... . It is He Who bids me tell you this.
There is but one thing to be done here below: to love Jesus, and to save souls for Him that He may be more loved. We must not let slip the smallest opportunity of giving Him joy. We must refuse Him nothing. He is in such need of love.
We are His chosen lilies. He dwells as a King in our midst--He lets us share the honours of His Royalty--His Divine Blood bedews our petals--and His Thorns as they wound us spread abroad the perfume of our love.
VII
October 22, 1889.
MY DEAREST CeLINE,--I send you a picture of the Holy Face. The contemplation of this Divine subject seems to me to belong in a special way to my little sister, truly the sister of my soul. May she be another Veronica, and wipe away all the Blood and Tears of Jesus, her only Love! May she give Him souls! May she force her way through the soldiers--that is, the world--to come close to His side... . Happy will she be when she sees in Heaven the value of that mysterious draught with which she quenched the thirst of her Heavenly Spouse; when she sees His Lips, once parched with burning thirst, speaking to her the one eternal word--love, and the thanks which shall have no end... .
Good-bye, dear little Veronica;[11] to-morrow, no doubt, your Beloved will ask some new sacrifice, a fresh relief for His thirst ... but "let us go and die with Him!"
VIII
July 18, 1890.
MY DEAR LITTLE SISTER,--I send you a pa.s.sage from Isaias which will comfort you. Long ago the Prophet"s soul was filled with the thought of the hidden beauties of the Divine Face, as our souls are now. Many a century has pa.s.sed since then. It makes me wonder what is Time. Time is but a mirage, a dream. Already G.o.d sees us in glory, and rejoices in our everlasting bliss. How much good I derive from this thought! I understand now why He allows us to suffer.
Since Our Beloved has "trodden the wine-press alone,"[12] the wine-press from which He gives us to drink--on our side let us not refuse to be clothed in blood-stained garments, or to tread out for Jesus a new wine which may quench His thirst! When "He looks around Him," He will not be able to say now that "He is alone"[13]--we shall be there to help Him.
"His look as it were hidden."[14] Alas! it is so even to this day, and no one understands His Tears. "Open to Me, My Sister, My Spouse," he says to us, "for My Head is full of dew and My Locks of the drops of the night."[15] Thus Jesus complains to our souls when He is deserted and forgotten ... _To be forgotten._ It is this, I think, which gives Him most pain.
And our dear Father!--it is heartrending, but how can we repine since Our Lord Himself was looked upon "as one struck by G.o.d and afflicted"?[16] In this great sorrow we should forget ourselves, and pray for Priests--our lives must be entirely devoted to them.
Our Divine Master makes me feel more and more that this is what He asks of you and me.
IX
September 23, 1890.
O Celine, how can I tell you all that is happening within me? What a wound I have received! And yet I feel it is inflicted by a loving Hand, by a Hand divinely jealous.
All was ready for my espousals;[17] but do you not think that something was still wanting to the feast? It is true, Jesus had already enriched me with many jewels, but no doubt there was one of incomparable beauty still missing; this priceless diamond He has given me to-day ... Papa will not be here to-morrow! Celine, I confess that I have cried bitterly... . I am still crying so that I can scarcely hold my pen.
You know how intensely I longed to see our dearest Father again; but now I feel that it is G.o.d"s Will that he should not be at my feast. G.o.d has allowed it simply to try our love. Jesus wishes me to be an orphan ... to be alone, with Him alone, so that He may unite Himself more closely to me. He wishes, too, to give me back in Heaven this joy so lawfully desired, but which He has denied me here on earth.
To-day"s trial is one of those sorrows that are difficult to understand: a joy was set before us, one most natural and easy of attainment. We stretched forth our hands ... and the coveted joy was withdrawn. But it is not the hand of man which has done this thing--it is G.o.d"s work. Celine, understand your Therese, and let us accept cheerfully the thorn which is offered us. To-morrow"s feast will be one of tears, but I feel that Jesus will be greatly consoled... .
X
October 14, 1890.
MY DARLING SISTER,--I know quite well all you are suffering. I know your anguish, and I share it. Oh! If I could but impart to you the peace which Jesus has put into my soul amid my most bitter tears. Be comforted--all pa.s.ses away. Our life of yesterday is spent; death too will come and go, and then we shall rejoice in life, true life, for countless ages, for evermore. Meanwhile let us make of our heart a garden of delights where Our sweet Saviour may come and take His rest. Let us plant only lilies there, and sing with St. John of the Cross:
"There I remained in deep oblivion, My head reposing upon Him I love, Lost to myself and all! I cast my cares away And let them, heedless, mid the lilies lie."[18]
XI
April 26, 1891.
MY DEAR LITTLE SISTER,--Three years ago our hearts had not yet been bruised, and life was one glad smile. Then Jesus looked down upon us, and all things were changed into an ocean of tears ...
but likewise into an ocean of grace and of love. G.o.d has taken from us him whom we loved so tenderly--was it not that we might be able to say more truly than ever: "Our Father Who art in heaven"?
How consoling is this divine word, and what vast horizons it opens before us!
My darling Celine, you who asked me so many questions when we were little, I wonder how it was you never asked: "Why has G.o.d not made me an Angel?" Well, I am going to tell you. Our Lord wishes to have His Court here on earth, as He has in Heaven; He wishes for angel-martyrs and angel-apostles; and if He has not made you an Angel in Heaven, it is because He wishes you to be an Angel of earth, so that you may be able to suffer for His Love.
Dearest sister, the shadows will soon disappear, the rays of the Eternal Sun will thaw the h.o.a.r frost of winter... . A little longer, and we shall be in our true country, and our childhood"s joys--those Sunday evenings, those outpourings of the heart--will be given back to us for ever!
XII