‘ape * p Bg “St Therese de V Enfant Jésus Uy Yj - y LMWH i [CC ELLY i thy My Yi YW MEE oe, Vy i; i yf Uy i Uy Y Yj YY Mi ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS SS 4700 Po) PHERESE => DE L’ENFANT JESUS 1873—1897 ACCORDING TO THE OFFICIAL DOCUMENTS OF THE CARMEL OF LISIEUX BY MGR. LAVEILLE APOSTOLIC PROTONOTARY, VICAR-GENERAL OF MEAUX (CROWNED BY THE FRENCH ACADEMY) Translated by REV. M. FITZSIMONS, O.M.I. New York, CINncINNATI, CHIcAGo, SAN FRANCISCO BENZIGER BROTHERS PUBLISHERS TO THE HOLY SEE First published 1928 NIHIL OBSTAT : GEORGIUS D. SMITH, Censor deputatus. IMPRIMATUR: EpDM. CAN. SURMONT, Vicarius generalts. WESTMONASTERII, Die 264 Novemébris, 1928. On Sale at THE CENTRAL OFFICE OF LISIEUX Depot FoR CaNADA: 4508, RESTHER STREET, MONTREAL Depot FOR UNITED STATES: 442, CiLLEY Roap, MANCHESTER, N.H. Made and Printed in Great Britain WT 4 LETTER TO THE AUTHOR From MONSEIGNEUR BAUDRILLART ?! CATHOLIC INSTITUTE OF Paris, 74, RUE DE VAUGIRARD, September 12, 1925. MONSEIGNEUR AND DEAR CONFRERE, You have graciously announced to me the publica- tion in the near future of your Life of St Thérése de l Enfant Jésus. The news has filled me with joy both on your account and hers, a sentiment which I had experienced the moment I learned that the Carmelites of Lisieux had chosen you to write a complete biography of their dear saint. Assuredly, other biographies have already popularized this touching and holy life—biographies, too, of undeniable merit. Something more, however, remained to be done; it was fitting that a biography, definite as possible in facts, rich in document and doctrine, should be given to the clients of her in whose honour sanctuaries of prayer are being raised throughout the Christian world, and whom millions honour with tender devotion in the hidden sanctuary of the heart. Who among spiritual biographers of our day is pos- sessed of wider experience or surer doctrine than yours ? How numerous the saints, both men and women, how many the Founders and Foundresses, whom you have already studied in their life and works. What a number 1 Translator’s note: This letter forms the Preface to the French editions. Vv v1 LETTER-PREFACE of diverse figures have been delineated by your pen. How many minds and characters, differing widely, yet all one in a common sanctity, you have intimately known. Has not your historian’s pen therein acquired a singular suppleness, your judgement a more searching keenness ? In this special work, however, the ordinary qualities of the writer and historian, be they even possessed in an eminent degree, are not sufficient. The sense of the supernatural must be there, added to a profound know- ledge of ascetic and mystical theology. In all these respects nothing is wanting to you. Were you not formed in that grand school of spirituality of Bérulle and Condren which Abbé Brémond so justly calls the French school of the seventeenth century? Have you not for years taught in the Scholasticate and Novitiate of the Oratory, showing priestly souls the road to perfection? Have you not also found the Carmel closely associated with the beginnings of the Oratory in France ? Surely all these reasons point you out for the delicate task of depicting a life original in its extreme simplicity. You are indeed in a position to understand it com- pletely. That the word “ original” will be disputed I have no doubt. In the opinion of many, original is but a polite word for eccentric. Original it is, however, amongst all the lives of the saints, because in it the development of the interior life is not supported by a chain of external events of notable importance or of actions capable of attracting attention. What could be more disconcerting than this to the historian who is merely an historian? ‘‘ Where shall I begin—what facts are there to take hold of?” he anxiously asks himself. Neither are there in evidence those extraordinary trials which call forth the special talent of the psychologist or theologian. A“ little way of confidence and abandon- LETTER-PREFACE Vii ment ” lovingly followed for a few years under the guidance of a very holy rule; that is all. All, yes; but how priceless that a//! What consola- tion is to be found therein for the thousands whose lives are spent without events worthy of notice, but not without trial and suffering. What consolation, what example, and what comfort, too. What a blessing it is that the lessons of such a life should be brought to light by a master-hand. Do not expect from me, dear Monseigneur, what is called a letter of approbation for your work. It would be of no advantage, and I would not presume to write thus to you. I have allowed my admiration for the author and for his undeniable talent to dictate these lines. This is not, however, the only motive which has determined me to write them, and to authorize their publication if you judge proper. The Rector of the Catholic Institute of Paris knows that he owes a particular debt of recognition to St Thérése de l’Enfant Jésus. He would hold himself ungrateful if he did not seize every opportunity of proclaiming the singular blessings, ‘‘ the shower of roses ”’ which, in times of difficulty, the dear little saint has shed over the Uni- versity he directs. He has experienced her immediate protection, and even at the risk of astonishing certain intellectuals, he will ever continue to proclaim the fact. Likewise, he will meditate, and incite others to meditate, on the lessons which the life of St Thérése directly holds for “ intellectuals.” The lesson of simplicity. I do not deny that there are men of superior intelligence, accustomed to the highest studies and most learned research, whose souls remain as simple as that of a child in presence of religious truths. In the measure that they remain simple before men, are they so before God. ‘These, unfortunately, are exceptions. The greater number esteem themselves too great and too strong to submit their intelligence. Or, Viil LETTER-PREFACE on the other hand, they require so many arguments, and place so many conditions, that they are never satisfied. Let them turn their eyes to this sweet child, white and straight as a lily, whose gaze is fixed peacefully on the highest truths, where candour of soul brings with it light to the understanding. The lesson of faith amid trials to that faith. Whatever the candour and good will of a soul, it is almost impossible in a time like ours that a man who studies and thinks, who by force of circumstances and the necessities of his work finds himself confronted with many diverse systems, is not at some time or other tried in his faith. God, then, in His infinite wisdom ordained that this same child should experience in the midst of severe physical sufferings the anguish of this trial of faith, and that though living in the very heart of the supernatural, she should feel doubts about the reality of the supernatural. And withal her faith never wavered, any more than that of St Vincent de Paul when severely tempted in faith regard- ing the Blessed Eucharist. Lessons of confidence, too, in the ultimate effects, distant perhaps, yet certain, of all work done for God. How many times we have felt that we work in vain, that we speak and write without result. Our work remains obscure, or we appear to bear no fruit whatever. And still we labour for God and our neighbour. Why, then, such poor result ? Listen to little Sur Thérése. When about to die at the age of twenty-four, she uttered these astonishing words: “I feel that my mission is now to begin.’’ God will choose the moment when He will draw from our efforts the good He desires; nothing that has been done for Him will be definitely lost. Sometimes even glory, the glory so dear to those who seek to influence the minds of men, will come abundantly. And I speak not only of the glory which in heaven is the fruit of grace, the crown of a saintly life. Is there, humanly speaking, in the world today a glory equal to LETTER-PREFACE 1x that of our humble Carmelite? What name is more frequently on men’s lips—what hero’s portrait has been so rapidly multiplied, so widely scattered ? Her renown carries the name of the little town in which she lived to the ends of the earth. Beautiful town of Lisieux, long appreciated by those who know it, charmingly situated in the midst of rich and fragrant valleys and tree-studded plains, possessed of the most beautiful and artistic monuments in Normandy, its old houses jealously preserved; astir, too, with industrial activity, thus joining modern life to history without taking away any of its beauty—what more was wanting to this town? And yet, how few visited it, how few even mentioned its name! The name became united with that of Thérése, and behold, Lisieux has become a world-city equal to the most celebrated. As Teresa and Avila, Angela and Foligno, Francis and Assisi, so Thérése and Lisieux have become inseparable names. Pilgrims come in crowds, and Lisieux takes its place for the centuries to come, among the holy cities of the world. May your book, dear Monseigneur, maintain and even increase the glory of Thérése de l’Enfant Jésus here below; may it multiply the number of souls eager for her powerful intercession, and at the same time increase our love of Him for whom she wished to live and die. ALFRED BAUDRILLART, Bishop of Himéria, Member of the French Academy. FOREWORD N September 30, 1897, a young nun of twenty-four died at the Carmel of Lisieux. Her life had been so humble and so hidden that one of her com- panions, seeing that she was fading away, wondered what facts worthy of attention could be mentioned in the death notice. And soon afterwards, her poor coffin was taken to the cemetery, accompanied by a few relatives. Twenty-five years later, this almost unknown maiden was proclaimed a wonder-worker as renowned as she was bountiful, and her relics, raised to the altar, became the object of tenderest homage and veneration. After another interval of two years, on May 17, 1925, in presence of more than 4,000 priests and 60,000 faithful, the Sovereign Pontiff, Pius XI, placed the crowning aureole on the forehead of the little nun of Lisieux. Almost a million spectators, gathered in Rome from every continent, standing there beneath the marvellous illumi- nations of St Peter’s, hailed the young Carmelite in the splendour of her canonization, and Thérése de 1|’Enfant Jésus became the most popular saint in the world. In face of this wonderful enthusiasm, this “‘ hurricane of glory’! which has raised the name of a lowly nun above all human renown, what can be said in her praise that has not been surpassed a thousandfold, that would not display miserable insufficiency ? Thus I will guard against undertaking the eulogy of the new saint after the solemn declarations of Pius X, Benedict XV, and Pius XI on the sublime quality of 1 Expression of Pius XI in his address to the pilgrims of Bayeux. xi xii FOREWORD Thérése’s virtues, and the rare fruitfulness of her spiritual doctrine. The task is, however, comparatively easy to a biographer who is solely desirous of following with exactitude the unobtrusive events of this brief life, spent entirely in the intimacy of her family and within the walls of an unknown cloister. These events are, besides, the substance of this super- natural and resplendent life which the Church has just glorified. To appreciate all its splendour, it will not be out of place to show in their simplicity and in their original setting, the daily actions which were its partial source and habitual condition. These have already been given with incomparable charm in the Histoire d'une Ame, unequalled in its admirable simplicity, enlightening doctrine, sweet and impressive unction. Is not full satisfaction given in this book, multiplied as it is in thousands of copies, to the curiosity and devotion of all the admirers of “little Therese ”’? I had thought so at first; but more attentive examina- tion of the book has shown me that several traits in the saint’s character have been omitted by her, probably through humility. These traits have been diligently noted by her companions in religion, more especially by those who were in a twofold manner her sisters here below. These testimonies, duly recorded in the acts of the different canonical processes, form two large volumes, the examination of which has revealed to me Thérése’s life, not only as seen by herself in the mirror of her modesty, but viewed from the outside with an unequalled keenness of perception and unerring judge- ment. Certain it is that the young saint did not reveal every- thing. Yet how can one dare to undertake her biography, even with the aid of additional information, after her own heavenly-worded pages which in their FOREWORD Xili numberless translations have already revealed to the world the exceptional beauty of her soul ? Two motives have conquered my fears: the confidence which the Rev. Mother Prioress of the Carmel of Lisieux, the saint’s sister, has reposed in me by charging me with a mission which will remain the great honour of my life, and the desire to show my gratitude to “ little Thérése ” who has given to my family and to me undeniable marks of her protection. Let me add that the fact of having been a member of the pilgrimage to Rome which, in 1887, allowed Thérése Martin to submit the question of her vocation to Leo XIII, inspired in me a special attraction towards the young Carmelite who was so eager to give herself to God. At all events, I have tried to find motives for under- taking a task which at first seemed rash. Being incapable of producing anything to equal the graceful pages of the Histoire d'une Ame, I have borrowed Thérése’s own words whenever she has appeared to me to give the events of her life in their fullness. I have done this especially as regards her confidences and effusions on the mysteries of divine love, of which she speaks so faimiliarly with charming candour, but also with a supernatural wisdom under the impulse of the Holy Spirit. Keeping to my role of biographer, I have avoided long dissertations on the diverse stages of Thérése’s spirituality, leaving this to other writers who, with more or less success, have undertaken to study her progress towards sanctity according to traditional classification. For the details that are not in the Histoire d’une Ame, and which consequently form my own contribution to the work, I have scrupulously followed the testimony of the nuns at the Carmel and other well-known persons who were called to give evidence at the process of Beati- fication. Every page of my manuscript has been submitted to xiv FOREWORD the careful revision of noted theologians and to the three Carmelite sisters of St Thérése de l’Enfant Jésus, so that the work appears with the explicit stamp and approbation of the most authoritative witnesses both as regards facts and doctrine. With this book will close, so far as I can judge, an already long series of works consecrated to the glory of many saints. In revealing her admirable and engaging inner life, may it surround with new splendour the pleasing figure of the maiden of Lisieux. May dear little Thérése, on her part, shed around the last years of her biographer a little of that peace-giving joy which she has so frequently sown in earthly paths. May her angelic smile console the last hour of a priest devoted to the glory of her name; may her helping hand lead him to the arms of God! \ AUTHOR’S NOTE TO THIRD FRENCH EDITION TuirTy thousand copies of this book have been sold in afew months. ‘This shows that the dear saint has visibly blessed it, and that Providence has made use of it to benefit numberless souls. Further information which I have received for the preparation of this third edition has enabled me to revise carefully the text. I have also been able to insert at the end of the book documents which fix certain family events regarding the saint’s ancestors. CONTENTS PREFACE. LETTER TO MGR LAVEILLE FROM MGR BAU- DRILLART . P ‘ 4 F 3 FOREWORD é 4 : . , : CHAPTER I ANCESTRAL ORIGIN—ALENCON—THE FATHER AND MOTHER OF THERESE MARTIN ; _ ej : CHAPTER II EARLY INFANCY OF “‘ LITTLE THERESE” . s - CHAPTER III GROWING VIRTUE OF THERESE—HER FIRST GREAT TRIAL . CHAPTER IV LISIEUX—-LES BUISSONNETS < 3 : 5 CHAPTER V THE BENEDICTINE CONVENT—STRANGE MALADY—FIRST COMMUNION—SUDDEN SPIRITUAL TRANSFORMATION . CHAPTER VI VOCATION TO CARMEL—STRUGGLE AGAINST EXTERIOR OBSTACLES WHICH RESTRAINED HER—JOURNEY TO ITALY . . . . . . CHAPTER VII THE CARMEL OF LISIEUX—THERESE AS POSTULANT, AND HER RECEPTION—TERRIBLE TRIAL—PROGRESS IN DETACH- MENT 7 : ‘ : “ : CHAPTER VIII PROFESSION—-APPARENT SEVERITY OF GOD, AND THE DIS- INTERESTED LOVE OF HIS SERVANT—GRACIOUS GIFT OF JESUS TO THERESE—POETRY OF THE YOUNG CARME- LITE—CORRESPONDENCE ON SPIRITUAL MATTERS— CELINE’S ENTRANCE } , ; ‘ XV 76 98 130 172 203 xvi CONTENTS CHAPTER IX INTERIOR LIFE AT THE CARMEL—DIVINE LOVE THE SOURCE OF ALL THERESE’S PERFECTION—QUALITIES OF THIS LOVE AND ITS PRINCIPAL MANIFESTATIONS—THERESE’S DEVOTION TO THE BLESSED VIRGIN AND THE SAINTS . CHAPTER X CHARITY OF ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS TOWARDS HER NEIGHBOUR—HER DEVOTION TO THE NOVICES UNDER HER DIRECTION—HER SPIRITUAL HELP TO TWO MISSIONARIES : 3 : : 2 CHAPTER XI SUFFERING’S ROLE IN THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD DISCERNED AND INTERPRETED BY THERESE—HER PERFECT PRACTICE OF MONASTIC VIRTUES PROPERLY SO CALLED: POVERTY, CHASTITY AND OBEDIENCE—HER LOVE OF THE CROSS THE CONDITION AND CONSEQUENCE OF HER LOVE FOR JESUS ; 2 : . ‘ : CHAPTER XII IDEA, ADVANTAGES AND NECESSITY OF THE “LITTLE WAY OF SPIRITUAL CHILDHOOD ”’ . . CHAPTER XIII THE VIRTUES OF THE “ LITTLE WAY ”’ IN PRACTICE: HUMILITY, SIMPLICITY, SPIRITUAL POVERTY, CONFIDENCE— THERESE’S CONSECRATION TO MERCIFUL LOVE AND ITS EFFECT ON HER LIFE : CHAPTER XIV BEGINNING OF HER ILLNESS—THE ‘‘ HISTOIRE D’UNE AME ?— THE ‘‘ NOVISSIMA VERBA ”’—END OF EXILE—FUNERAL CEREMONIES ° CHAPTER XV FIRST PHASES OF HER GLORIFICATION—CONTINUOUS ‘“‘ RAIN OF ROSES ”—SCEUR THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS RAISED TO THE ALTAR : . . . . APPENDIX . PAGE 233 253 286 302 319 344 381 428 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS CHAPTER ‘I ANCESTRAL ORIGIN—ALENCON—THE FATHER AND MOTHER OF THERESE MARTIN her father’s side came originally from Athis-de- l’Orne, a borough of some importance situated in the Domfront district. As far back as the sixteenth century we find agriculturists here named Martin, but authentic record of “ little Thérése’s ” parentage dates from April 2, 1692. On this day was baptized in the church of Athis a child named John Martin. Of a lineal descendant of this John Martin was born a son, who was baptized in the same church, April 16, 1777, and received the name Pierre-Francois. This child was later to be the grandfather of the glorious Carmelite whose life-story we are about to narrate. In him we recognize the head of that saintly family from which she has come; to his influence may be attributed in no small measure her eminent and highly developed virtues. os bave ancestors of St Thérése de |’Enfant Jésus on At the period of their son’s baptism the parents of Pierre-Francgois Martin lived near the church of Athis* in the house at present occupied by registration officials 1 For the paternal ancestors of the saint see the booklet Athis-de l’Orne and Blessed Thérése de l Enfant Fésus, by M. VAbbé Madeline of Athis-de l’?Orne (Flers-de-l’Orne, Im- primerie Catholique). I 2 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS and the sacristan. Afterwards they moved to a more completely rural dwelling, the “ Quentiniére.”” From here, as it would seem, Pierre-Francois set out for Alengon for his first military training. The military expeditions of the Empire soon accus- tomed him to war, and he acquitted himself so well that we find him in 1823 captain in the rgth Light Infantry garrisoned at Bordeaux.’ Here, in an old house in the rue Servandoni, on August 22, his wife, Marie- Anne-Fannie Boureau, gave him a son, who was baptized Louis-Joseph-Aloys-Stanislas, and was third of a family of five children.? The brave officer was absent from home at this time, his company taking part, apparently, in the expedition to Spain led by the Duke of Angouléme with purpose of re-establishing the throne of Ferdinand VII. The child was baptized privately, and weeks of waiting for the father’s return followed. But he was not to return to Bordeaux until November. It was decided, therefore, that the solemn baptism should not be deferred so long, and on October 28, 1823, the cere- mony was performed in the church of Saint Eulalie by the Abbé Martegoute, chaplain of the prisons in that city. The saintly Archbishop of Bordeaux, Mgr d’Aviau du Bois de Sanzay, attested in writing (January 14, 1824) 1 In the Appendix at the end of this book may be read the particulars of Captain Martin’s military service, and copies of a certain number of documentary records (certificates of baptism and marriage) concerning the ancestors of the saint. * M. Louis Martin, father of Thérése, had one brother Pierre, early destined for the navy, but he was lost in a ship- wreck while still young. He had also an elder sister, Marie, who married, but died in her twenty-sixth year, 1846. ‘Two sisters were born after him : Frangoise—in English, Fanny —who, after her marriage, died in 1853, aged twenty-seven; and Sophie the godchild and favourite sister of Louis, who died at the age of nine years. ANCESTRAL ORIGIN 3 to the authenticity of the certificate of baptism. It was probably on this occasion that he said to the parents: “Rejoice, for this child is one of the predestined !” This prophetic vision vouchsafed to the virtuous Archbishop was truly to be fulfilled in the life then opening. Captain Martin was himself one of the most powerful instruments of divine grace in the training of his son; from the beginning he set himself to infuse into this youthful mind his own deep faith and ardent piety. As far as his public duties permitted he watched over the education of Louis, took care to have him thoroughly instructed in religious truths, and made him also com- mence his classical studies. At length the hour of retreat sounded for the brave soldier. Bearing with him the esteem of his superior officers, decorated with the Cross of Saint Louis, which he had obtained at the age of forty-seven during the Spanish campaign,? Captain Martin left Bordeaux for his native district, there to seek a well-earned repose 1 The following is a copy of the register of baptism: “‘ In the year One thousand eight hundred and twenty-three on the twenty-eighth of October, has been baptized by me, priest, undersigned, Louis-Joseph-Aloys-Stanislas Martin, born the twenty-third of the month of August last, legitimate son of sieur Pierre-Francgois Martin, Captain in the Nineteenth Light Infantry, and of dame Marie-Anne-Fanny Boureau his wife, living at No. 3, rue Servandoni. He had for godfather Léonce de Lamothe, and for godmother Ernestine Beyssac who have signed with me “*Jn-Ant. Martegoute, priest, de licentia parochi. Léonce de Lamothe; Ernestine Beyssac, Jules Guibre. Fanie Martin, née Boureau. Copy conformable to the original: Jaure, Curé de Sainte-Eulalie. Followed by the attestation of Mgr d’Aviau. 2 This decoration was conferred on him by Charles X August 20, 1824. 4 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS and to provide for the future of his children. With this end in view, instead of returning to the little house at Athis where his parents had lived, he went to Alengon, drawn thither by the more favourable resources of educa- tion offered in that town. From henceforth his life was to be one long series of charitable works and saintly example. From Alencon the old soldier, accompanied by his children, went sometimes to Athis to visit the cousins and other relatives who remained in the old homes. Young Louis delighted in these visits to country homes where the service of God predominated over every other thought. It was time, however, to consider his future career. The army was not without attraction for the son of Captain Martin, but what seemed to be a chance occurrence was to lead him to more peaceable occupations. In the town of Rennes Captain Martin had cousins, watchmakers by trade. During a visit there Louis discovered his taste for this profession, and began to learn it merely as an amateur. During his sojourn in Rennes he received from his parents letters which show the character of the people of Normandy ennobled by the ancient faith. From his mother, a daughter of this rural district so attached to Catholic practices, he received the following letter on August 25, 1842: “What a joy it would be to me, my dear Louis, to offer you in person my heartiest and best wishes. Yet we must bear the crosses which God sends us, and thank him every day for the favours he has bestowed. I felt that he conferred a great blessing on me when I saw you for the first time in your Breton costume, your young heart filled with enthusiasm. ... With what joy I pressed you to my heart, for you, dear son, are the dream of my nights and the constant subject of my thoughts. * It was, however, at Strasbourg, where he was on the staff, that his discharge was definitely granted him in 1830. ANCESTRAL ORIGIN 5 “How many times do I not think of you when my soul, in prayer, follows the leading of my heart and darts up even to the foot of the divine throne. There, I pray with all the fervour of my soul that God may bestow on my children the interior happiness and calm which are so necessary in this turbulent world.” Then this true Christian, in her fear of the pernicious effects of youthful presumption in her son, adds: ‘ Re- main always humble, dear son.’’! In Strasbourg dwelt another friend of the Martin family, also engaged in the clockmaker’s business. Drawn to this city by the wish to be near one of his father’s old comrades, Louis still continued the delicate work to which he had commenced his apprenticeship. This gave him an opportunity of closely examining the mechanism of the celebrated cathedral clock which aroused his admiration. Gradually he found growing within him an attraction for this work, which requires 1 Unpublished letter in family archives. The letter written by his father to Louis on this occasion exhibits even more clearly the same Christian spirit. We give it as a novel and unique example of the type of family correspondence in Normandy at that period: “May God be for ever glorified and loved above all things ! “My DEAR SON, “ On behalf of your sisters Fanny and Sophie and all the family, I wish you a happy feast, in honour of your blessed patron, who is also my own as a Knight of Saint Louis, and to whom JI have and will ever have devotion. The bouquet which we are sending is a gift from your sister and godchild, Sophie. We should like to offer you in person our heartiest wishes, and clink glasses in sprinkling the bouquet; but let us make this sacrifice, since it is the will of the Master. “We are, thank God, enjoying good health. I hope you also are equally blessed. In conclusion, my dear Louis, I give you with all my heart the kiss of friendship for myself and all the family.” 6 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS in addition to skilled hands so much application and taste. But Louis had higher aspirations than the study of an earthly career. He had progressed in the practice of prayer and the frequent use of the Sacraments. Under this influence his thoughts no less than his love tended towards the joys of heaven. The beauty of creation, especially as shown in its varied aspects in the land of Normandy, filled him with delight, and was to him a mirror in which he contemplated the divine Creator. At the sight of the flashing dawn or the waning sunset his handsome and clear-cut face reflected in turn his gladness in the beauty of the divine plan, or his sadness at parting with things which must pass with the day. He had reached his twentieth year when he reflected, with faith already supported by experience, that beyond all passing earthly splendour is the light of an eternal day which shines for those happy beings who contem- plate the divine beauty. He realized that this great joy must be won by toil on earth, realized too that the surest way towards possession of the eternal reward of the invisible world is voluntary renunciation of the fleeting though alluring shadows which claim our attention here below. We find this youth, then, on a morning in September, 1843, slowly climbing up the slopes of Mount St Bernard, gazing with wondering eyes at the majestic peaks above. He had travelled across France, partly on foot, partly by stage-coach, to seek at the Monastery hidden here amid the snows the secret of his vocation. As he climbed upward, the wonderful stillness, the peaceful aspect of the wide spaces around, formed a powerful attraction towards this holy solitude, where he hoped to find, in familiar and daily communion with the Holy of Holies, that blessed peace for which his soul thirsted. On the threshold of life, with a realization of ANCESTRAL ORIGIN 7 the storms that would beset him, he already said with the Prophet at sight of the city which was to shelter him: “* Haec requies mea in saeculum saeculi,’’* Louis Martin was received by the Superior of the Augustinian Monks with that kindliness and sweetness which instinctively opened all hearts. The Prior knew immediately that this clear-countenanced youth had not come merely for a night’s shelter. His desire was to shield his innocence there till death, to devote his life, in accordance with the object for which the Monastery was founded, to the rescue of unfortunate travellers buried in the mountain gorges beneath the snow, or frozen by the glacial blast. An attraction towards solitude, or the desire to be im- molated in the service of others, is not always a sure mark of religious vocation. ‘The postulant must have already received the remote preparation which would fit him for the functions of the Order to which he seeks admission. Thus the Prior set himself immediately to find out the capabilities of his young visitor. “‘ Have you finished your Latin studies, my son ?” Louis replied in the negative. “TI am sorry,” said the Prior, “ for it is an essential condition for admission to our brotherhood. But be not discouraged. Return to Normandy, work diligently, and when you have completed your humanities, we will gladly admit you to our Novitiate.’’? Sad at heart, the pilgrim returned down the steeps of the glaciers, like a traveller who has been driven back into exile from the shores of his native land. Would Captain Martin’s means allow him to incur the expense of his son’s classical studies? A loyal effort was made; Louis set himself earnestly to the study of Latin under the Curé of St Leonard of Alengon. But illness soon compelled him to lay aside his books, and he 1 “This is my resting-place for ever and ever,” Ps. cxxxi 14. 2 See Histoire d’une Ame: Introduction. 8 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS decided finally to return to the watchmaker’s workshop. After some time in Paris, where in all probability he completed his apprenticeship, he returned to the little town in Normandy made dear to him by family ties. Here he lived with his parents in the rue du Pont-Neuf, dividing his time between work, prayer, and some suitable distractions, in which he was joined by a few chosen friends, devoted like himself to works of charity. In this way he lived until his thirty-fifth year, thinking still perhaps of the monastic life; at all events manifesting no desire to enter the married state, although his mother wished him to marry. About this time a young daughter of Normandy, Zélie Guérin, born at Saint Denis-sur-Sarthon (Orne), presented herself at the Hoétel-Dieu of Alengon, directed by the Sisters of Saint Vincent de Paul. She belonged to one of the most religious families of the district. Her forefathers had given asylum to the clergy during the Revolution, and her own father was familiar in his child- hood days with the ruses employed to evade the enraged pursuers of his uncle, a priest whom they had concealed in their house. Later, this child, having come to man’s estate, was to take his part, like Pierre-Francgois Martin, in the military campaigns of the Empire, was afterwards to serve as a gendarme, and then to retire to Alencon after forty years of military service. 1 Below is a résumé of the military service of M. Isidore Guérin, maternal grandparent of Thérése Martin. Born at Saint Martin l’Aiguillon (Orne) July 6, 1789, he entered the army on June 6, 1809, and went through his first military training at Wagram. Some months later he was in the Oudinot Division. He remained there after the defeat of Vittoria until the battle of Toulouse, and on the fall of the Empire returned home. He entered the foot gendarmerie, October 1, 1816, and passed into the mounted gendarmerie, June 1, 1823. He served first in the Compagnie de la Vendée; then, from February 23 1827, in the Compagnie de l’Orne (2nd Legion) at Saint Denis sur-Sarthon (Orne). On September 10, 1844, he left the ANCESTRAL ORIGIN 9 He had three children: an elder daughter, Marie Louise, who died, a Visitation nun, at Le Mans; Zélie, with whom we shall be largely concerned in the course of our narrative; and a son, Isidore, who early gave signs of his attraction to the medical profession. As pupil of the Dames de l’Adoration at Alencon, Zélie Guérin had received a careful education, as attested by her numerous successes in study; she had also been formed there to true piety, and desired to serve God in the person of His poor. She confided her wishes to the Superioress of the Hétel-Dieu, who declared unhesi- tatingly that God had other designs for Zélie than the religious life. Disappointed, but sustained by faith, the young girl remained with her brother, sister, and parents, to await the decision of Providence regarding her future. Her father, in 1843, had purchased a comfortable house, No. 42, rue Saint Blaise, where later he lived with his children. But the expenses consequent on the education of his son and daughters had made consider- able inroads on the pension of the old soldier. Zélie, understanding that she was destined for the married state, felt that she must increase her dowry in order to meet the calls of her future life. She was in considerable anxiety as to the means of so doing, when, on December 8, 1851, Feast of the Immaculate Conception, she was suddenly interrupted in the midst of an absorbing work Which excluded all freaks of the imagination. An interior voice seemed to give her this command: ‘‘ Have Alengon point lace made.’”! 'This was the reply given service finally to retire to Alencon, where he died September 3, 1868. (Taken from the Archives of the Guérin family and the Archives of the Ministry of War.) 1 The “ point d’Alencon ” is manufactured from hand-spun and twisted linen thread, exceptionally fine and consequently very costly. These laces are composed of pieces measuring from twenty to thirty centimetres joined together by im- 10 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS by the Blessed Virgin to the anxious doubts which Zélie had confided to her. The world-wide appreciation of this beautiful lace, the one kind in France worked entirely with the needle, is well known. Zélie Guérin studied the different processes of the manufacture, specialized in the assem- blage of the pieces already prepared, and finally placed herself at the head of one of those enterprises for the production of that light and delicate lace destined to complete the richest attire in the land. Her employées worked in their own homes, whilst she took charge of the orders, supplied the designs, and carefully watched over the execution of the work. Soon the lace which she produced was classed amongst the most beautiful; 500 francs a metre was a not unusual price for her work, so that the profits soon grew into a capital of some im- portance. Isidore Guérin, Zélie’s father, lived at a short distance from the Church of Notre-Dame, and Captain Martin with his wife and son had at this time, as we know, a house in rue du Pont Neuf in the parish of Saint Pierre de Montsort. Active, industrious, with a skilful hand, and a finely developed artistic taste, Louis Martin promised fair to become an expert in his profession; he had thoughts also of joining the lucrative business of jeweller to his trade of watchmaker. No acquaintanceship had as yet sprung up between the two families. Immersed in her daily task, Zélie Guérin satisfied herself with a petition to Providence to give her a worthy husband, Catholic not only in name, but in practice. She had asked God too, with profound faith, to bless her future union with perceptible stitches, At Alengon the industry was started under the administration of Colbert about 1664, that Minister having brought from Venice thirty skilled workers with this object in view. ANCESTRAL ORIGIN II many children, who might all be in some way conse- crated to His service. One day as she was crossing the bridge of Saint Leonard she met a young man, whose dignified and distinguished demeanour claimed her attention in a remarkable manner. She did not know him, but an interior voice made manifest to her once more the provi- dence of God watching over her life: ‘‘ This is he whom I have prepared for thee.”” Those words led to the two lives being drawn together; and they were indissolubly united on July 13, 1858, in the Church of Notre-Dame at Alencon. According to family records, the young husband, think- ing, as many saints had done, to join to the blessing of Christian marriage the honour of continence, expressed this wish to his wife on the evening of their marriage. He was, without knowing it, going against what she felt to be God’s design for her. Having learned this after a year, Louis renounced his plan of special perfection, and the young couple lived in conjugal fidelity, in perfect union of heart and will. They had established themselves in the rue du Pont Neuf. The watchmaking, to which Louis had now joined the sale of jewellery, added to the Alencon point lace manufacture, proved a considerable source of income to the family. They set earnestly to work; reliable customers came in numbers; the future seemed assured. The newly-married pair realized every day more and more the blessing of mutual charity. Endowed with a practical mind, with rare gifts of energy and untiring activity, Mme Martin was above all remarkable for her wonderful spirit of faith. One sole object dominated and directed her life. She could in all truth make this maxim of St Fran¢oise d’Amboise her own: “So act that in all things God be loved above all.” Louis, with perhaps a calmer disposition, his taste for 12 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS religious communion with nature, his love for the poetry of light and shade ever varying with the mists of his homeland, was a model of that patient and active charity which lends so much charm and happiness to life in common. On one occasion he was seen to raise up a drunken man from the thronged street where he had fallen, then, without the slightest regard for human respect, take his box of tools, give him the support of his arm, and with gentle but firm admonition conduct him to his home. Again, one day at a railway station, having come across a poor victim of epilepsy dying with hunger and without sufficient money to take him back to his own village, the young man took off his hat, and, placing therein the first alms himself, went round to all the passengers for money to enable the poor sufferer to reach his home. In the service of God, more especially in devotion to Jesus in the Tabernacle, did the intimate union of the newly-married couple find its full expression. M. and Mme Martin attended Mass every morning at half-past five; they knelt together at the Holy Table; and although very frequent communion was not yet in vogue in the French parishes, they endeavoured to receive the Holy Eucharist more frequently than every Sunday. Despite the fatiguing duties of the household and the absorbing labour of the husband’s daily business, at a time too when the spirit of mortification was growing weak in the better class families, they observed to the letter the fasts and abstinence of the Church. Another practice of renunciation must have proved very meri- torious for them. It was customary at that time amongst the young country folk to come to Alencon every Sunday to make their purchases or on pleasure bent. The jewellers’ windows formed the chief attraction for the gentler sex. When a marriage was in view their fiancés were liberal in the purchase of rings, trinkets, ear-rings, and the other ornaments so much appreciated, especially ANCESTRAL ORIGIN 13 by village folk. But when the intending purchasers came to Louis Martin’s establishment on Sunday they found the door closed; all business was suspended here out of respect for the Lord’s day. This line of action entailed considerable loss for the young man. Some of his friends counselled a less rigorous practice which would not at the same time militate against the day of rest: “* Leave the side-door at least open; in this way your shop will to all appearances remain closed, while pur- chasers can come in quietly and you will not lose good sales.” “TI prefer,” replied Louis, ‘‘to draw down on my house the blessing of God.” This spirit of faith so openly manifested showed itself in a still more touching way in the quiet of the home. They prayed in common, endeavouring to put into the prayer addressed to God the Father the fervour of Captain Martin, whose accents as he recited the Our Father moved others to tears. A habitual practice in the household was the study of the Lives of the Saints, in whom they recognized a spiritual brotherhood. One day, as the young wife read the life of Madame Acarie, who, after giving all her daughters to Carmel, consecrated herself also to God in the religious life, she exclaimed : “ All her daughters Carmelites! Is it possible that a mother may have so great an honour ?”! With these thoughts in her heart she was glad to see her husband take his place each succeeding month at the nocturnal Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. When- ever she accompanied him on a walk into the country, her greatest joy was to turn with him into some quiet church, where, in his devotion, he would prostrate before a tabernacle too often abandoned. Absorbed in his business, Louis Martin allowed him- 1 Apostolic Process of Beatification and Canonization— Deposition of Rev. Mére Agnés de Jésus. 14 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS self from time to time one little recreation. He loved fishing, and often plied the hook along the Sarthe, whiling away a few hours in the charm of horizons veiled in blue mists. In this, as in other things, he wished that honest recreation should be seasoned with charity; eel and trout were sent for the most part to the Monastery of the Poor Clares at Alencon. Following the example of her husband, Mme Martin was always ready to relieve misery and suffering. A servant in the household fell ill with a very painful attack of articular rheumatism. Her parents were poor and could not procure for her the proper treatment. The mistress devoted herself to the servant night and day until she was completely cured. At another time, Mme Martin was compelled to appear before a magis- trate in consequence of her endeavours to rescue a child from the maltreatment of two evil old women, who had taken charge of her education, but who were exploiting her in a shameful manner. What, then, was wanting to these true Christians save to be enabled to transmit their own virtues to a numerous posterity ? God gave a grand answer to the prayer of His servants; in a few years nine children were born to them. They wished that each child from its entrance into the world should be consecrated to the Queen of heaven by receiving the name of Marie, and in time Marie-Louise, Marie-Pauline, Marie-Léonie, and Marie-Héléne, came to increase the joy of the home. The parents, in their desire to multiply here below the noble works of their family, sought from God, by the intercession of St Joseph, ‘a little missionary.” They believed that their prayer was heard when to 1 Unpublished letter of Mme Martin to her daughters Marie and Pauline, January 17, 1875: Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux. ANCESTRAL ORIGIN 15 the little daughters who filled the house with laughter and song was added a baby brother, who received the names of Marie-Joseph-Louis. Alas! scarce had he learned to smile at his mother, when, five months after his birth, he departed from this earth to intercede amid the angels for his parents and sisters. Supplications and novenas were renewed with re- doubled fervour; a priest, a child who would be a “ great saint,” was the goal of all their desires. Another little cherub seemed sent as an answer from above, but eight months later he too, Marie-Joseph-Jean-Baptiste, de- parted, to fulfil in heaven the mission that God saw fit to deny him in this world. With this second cross, they understood that ‘ the thoughts of the Lord are not our thoughts, His ways are not our ways.’ And they ceased their supplica- tions for a missionary. But who, considering the lives of the remaining children of Louis Martin, would have the hardihood to say that God had rejected his petition ? The two elder daughters were now old enough for school. Mme Martin considered that she could not do better than confide them to the care of her saintly sister, the Visitation nun, so Marie-Louise and Marie- Pauline were sent as boarders to the convent at Le Mans. In order to meet the additional expense of educating her children and provide generally for her growing family, the courageous mother resolved to apply herself with renewed energy to the development of her lace industry. She accepted large orders, devoted long hours to the training of her workers, attended personally to the extensive commercial correspondence entailed, and brought to her artistic work so much activity and good taste that in a short time the renown and extent of her enterprise had greatly increased. Such a life of activity left little time for recreation or rest. Mme Martin made a virtue of necessity. “ Truth 1 Isa. v 8. 16 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS to tell,” she wrote, ‘‘ I seek no other recreation than to sit at my window putting together the pieces of my ‘ Point d’Alengon.’’”! In spite of all preoccupations her greatest joy was in her family life; it was, in fact, her one joy on earth, and she endeavoured to fulfil every duty to her children with characteristic simplicity, devotion, and good-will. She had, as we know, one brother, Isidore Guérin, who, before he became the exemplary Catholic that we find him later, had been, as a young medical student, drawn to the dissipations of Paris life. We find his sister addressing to him at the time letters such as these: ‘““T am, my dear brother, greatly disquieted on your account. My husband constantly speaks to me with apprehension concerning you. He is well acquainted with Paris, and says that you will be surrounded by temptations which you will not resist because you are not sufficiently grounded in piety. He has given me an account of some of his own experiences, and shown me what courage is required to come out victorious. If you but knew through what trials he has passed! I beseech you, my dear Isidore, to act as he acted, be fervent in prayer, and you will not be carried away by the torrent. If you go under once you are lost. It is but the first step that costs on the road to evil as on the path to virtue; afterwards you will be carried on by the current. “If you agree to do one thing which I am going to ask of you, and which you might well be willing to give me as a New Year’s gift, I shall be happier than if you gave me all Paris. You live quite near Notre-Dame-des- Victoires. Well! make a little visit there even once a day to say a Hail Mary to the Blessed Virgin. You will find that she will protect you in a special manner, she will give you success in this world and eternal happiness 1 Unpublished letter to her sister-in-law, September 28, 1872. ANCESTRAL ORIGIN 17 in the world beyond. ‘Think not that my words to you come from exaggerated piety without solid foundation; I have reason for confidence in Mary; I have received from her favours known only to myself. . . . You know well that life is very short. In a few brief years you and I will have reached the end; how happy we shall then be if our life has not tended to make our last hours bitter.”"4 The youth profited so much by this advice that he became soon afterwards one of the most practical and devoted Catholics of his time. He set up in business as a chemist in the town of Lisieux, and married a pious young girl, Mlle Fournet. From this time onward a close friendship sprang up between Mme Martin and the newly-married couple. At their house in Lisieux she spent in company with her children the few holidays which she allowed herself. To her sister-in-law were addressed for the most part those simple yet typical letters wherein she traces such charming pictures of the home-life, or gives expression to supernatural hope in the midst of tears and trials; letters which her family has faithfully preserved, and which are to us so invaluable a treasure in compiling the biography of “ little Thérése.” Neither did Mme Martin forget that, as elder sister, she had certain moral duties to her brother. Here is a novel example of her manner of persuasion. An old pair, of the rich and egoistic type, had just built a costly house at Alencon. At the prospect of soon enjoying this grand dwelling, the wife exclaimed: ‘‘ Oh, how happy I am! Nothing is wanting to me; I have health and fortune, can procure everything I wish; I have no children to disturb my peace; indeed, I know of no one so well off as I am.” 1 Unpublished letter of January 1, 1863. Some of the above lines contain an allusion to the supernatural counsel which she received on December 8, 1851, to undertake the manufacture of point d’Alenc¢on. 2 18 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS Mme Martin made the following comment to her brother on hearing the remarks of this lady: “‘T have always heard, ‘ Unfortunate, thrice un- fortunate, is the person who can speak thus.’ And, my dear friend, I am so convinced of this truth that, at certain periods of my life, when I had that feeling of happiness, I could only dwell on it with fear and trembling, for experience has shown beyond doubt that true happiness does not exist here below; its semblance may perchance appear on earth, but it is the herald of misfortune. I have noticed it myself. No, happiness cannot be found here; good fortune carries with it a danger-signal. God, in His wisdom, has so ordained our life that we may never forget that this earth is not our true home.’’! In confirmation of this seemingly rigid teaching, she gives a striking example. She tells of this old couple walking one evening through their new garden, at the end of which a deep trench had just been dug, and was left unprotected save for a few planks. In the growing darkness the husband and wife stepped on one of these slender planks, and both were dashed into the pit beneath, crushed and injured. Oftentimes, however, these more serious lessons give place to an account of some little incident in lighter vein. Now it is a story of the children’s pranks as they romp around the table where the lace is being prepared, now the repetition of some ingenuous question or remark which shows already the bent of their character; often, too, comes the expression of deep intense gratitude for these treasures that Heaven has entrusted to her. She had just put her baby, Héléne, under the care of a nurse, and in a letter to her brother she gives naive ex- pression to her feelings. “ I went to see her a fortnight ago. I think I never experienced a greater joy than when I took her in my arms; she smiled at me so sweetly that I thought I was looking at an angel. I cannot express + Unpublished letter to her brother, March 28, 1864. ANCESTRAL ORIGIN 19 what I felt. Never, I think, was seen, never will be seen a child so charming. My little Héléne, when shall I have the happiness of possessing her fully? I cannot realize that I have the honour of being the mother of so beautiful a little creature.’’! Alas ! this cherished child was destined to leave, five years later, her mother’s arms for ever. How deeply this would wound that loving heart the foregoing lines reveal.? In the meantime a poignant sorrow, the prelude of many another, now came to Mme Martin. Captain Martin, her husband’s father, who was in his eighty-ninth year, was lingering between death and life. On June 27, 1865, she wrote to her brother: “My father-in-law died yesterday at one in the after- noon. He received the last Sacraments on Thursday. He died like a saint; as was his life, so,also,hisdeath. I would never have believed that it could have such an effect on me; I feel it most deeply.”* She was destined to become familiar with the sight of death. In the course of the next few years two sons were born, and were quickly taken to heaven; then she had the sorrow of losing her own father, from whom she had never been parted. On September 3, 1868, she wrote to her sister-in-law: “If you had but witnessed his holy death! I cherish the hope, I have even the certitude, that my dear father has been favourably received by God. May my death be like to his! We have already had three Masses said for him, and intend to have many more, so that he may be speedily delivered from purgatory if anything yet remains to be atoned for. His tomb will be quite close 1 Unpublished letter, April 23, 1865. 2 Little Héléne died of consumption February 22, 1870, at the age of five. 3 Unpublished letter. 20 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS to that of my two little Josephs.” And on November 1 of the same year, writing to her brother: “ If the good God hears my prayer, He will admit him this very day to paradise. Poor father! He was not accustomed to suffer. For myself I do not fear purgatory; to suffer seems quite natural to me. If God so willed, I would at once agree to expiate his purgatory and my own, so desirous am I that he should be happy.’’? Added to this sorrow was disquietude caused by the frail constitution of her daughter Léonie, and the con- sequent difficulties regarding her education. This valiant woman, who in spite of her delicate sensitiveness had gone through such trials with fortitude, whom sorrow had strengthened rather than vanquished, could endure without flinching the thousand little annoy- ances which add weight to the burden of daily life. But to her cares as mother, wife, and mistress of a household, were added fears regarding the health of her sister, the Visitation nun, now threatened with phthisis. She dreaded the loss of this sister all the more because her two daughters Marie and Pauline were making wonderful progress under her charge, and their growing virtue was her greatest consolation amid crosses and vexations. The gentle and reserved nature of Marie concealed, as is usual in timid people, a depth of tenderness which only required expansion to bring out its true worth. The gracious and prepossessing disposition of Pauline, and her natural bent for learning, made her, notwithstand- ing her exuberant disposition, the joy of her teachers. More especially after her father’s death did Mme Martin appreciate these happy traits of character in her children; their lovable qualities proved a wonderful solace to her in her sorrows. Marie was asked to offer the pain of a dental operation for the soul of her grandfather: “ This morning at eight 1 Unpublished letter. 2 Ibid, ANCESTRAL ORIGIN 21 o’clock,”’ writes Mme Martin, “I took her to the dentist. She asked me if her suffering would really help ‘ the poor papa.’ On my answering in the affirmative, she never uttered a word; in fact, the dentist told me he had never seen a child so brave.”’ After a fresh examination, when the operation was declared unnecessary, she said to her mother: “‘ What a pity! the poor papa would no longer have been in purgatory.””? Thus, in return for the pious education given to her children, this Christian mother tasted, even in the midst of hard trials, the consolations of faith. God willed to brighten with a few flowers the rough path which she trod, for, ere the end of the way be reached, more thorns still would there be to harass and afflict her. On February 23 came the death of her fourth child, little Marie-Héléne. From the monastery of Le Mans her sister wrote: “ I cannot help considering you fortunate in giving to heaven these innocent souls who, later, will be your joy and your crown. Your faith and never- failing confidence will then receive a magnificent recom- pense. ... Rest assured that the Saviour will bless you; your joy hereafter will be according to the measure of the consolations refused you now; for if God, accepting your sacrifice, wills to give you this great saint whom you have so much desired for His glory,’ will you not then be well repaid ?’’? These last lines would seem to contain a presentiment of the future. The admonition of the good religious was hardly necessary in the case of Mme Martin, for we find her, shortly afterwards, writing to her sister-in-law at Lisieux, who had received a similar cross: ‘“‘ When I 1 Unpublished letter to her brother and her sister-in-law, January 1869. 2 An allusion to the prayers of the Martin family to obtain from God a “‘ little missionary,” or at least a son who would do great things for the extension of God’s kingdom on earth. 3 Unpublished letter of February 23, 1870. 22 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS closed the eyes of my dear little children, when I laid them in the grave, my grief, though great, was always resigned. I never regretted the pain and anxiety I had endured for their sake. Everyone said: ‘ Better they had never been born.’ I could not agree to this view. I realize that my pain and anxiety cannot be compared to the eternal happiness of my dear children. ‘They are not lost to me for ever. Life is short and full of sorrow; we shall meet again in heaven.” These and similar reflections were communicated to Sister Marie Dosithée, the fervent Visitandine, who, at the thought of such great spiritual strength in a life so sorely crossed, thus pays homage to the virtue of Mme Martin: “‘ I have fears,”’ she wrote to her brother, “ lest her health suffer from the effect of so many shocks. Her spirit of faith, however, and her wonderful courage re- assures me. What a valiant woman she is! Adversity has no power to overcome her, prosperity cannot deceive her; she is admirable.’’? At the beginning of 1870 M. Martin handed over his watch-making establishment to one of his nephews.* He thought it well to give henceforward more active and practical help to his wife, whose lace industry continued to extend considerably. A period of remarkable and unprecedented success opened for the family, until Alencon had to bow before the invasion of the victorious Prussian army. After having witnessed the sad spectacle of our soldiers suffering in the hospitals of the town from the wounds of battle or the contagion of disease, Mme Martin had to open her house in the rue du Pont-Neuf to nine German infantry soldiers, who, while refraining from insulting ? Unpublished letter, October 17, 1871. * Unpublished letter, October 28, 1868. ® He remained in the rue du Pont-Neuf, however, until J uly of the following year. : ANCESTRAL ORIGIN 23 violence, destroyed from the commencement the beautiful order established therein by its mistress. “They have,” she wrote, ‘‘ reduced the house to a deplorable condition. ... The town is in desolation; everyone is in tears except myself.” In spite of his consternation, M. Martin showed, like his valiant wife, the greatest courage. She herself is happy in testifying to the fact: “It is quite possible that the men between forty and fifty years will be called out; I am in hourly expectation of the order. My husband is not in the least alarmed. - He often says that if he were free he would soon be enlisted amongst the franc- tireurs.” Of a lady who had succeeded in concealing her husband and saving him from the mobilization, the heroic French- woman exclaimed: ‘Is it possible that anyone would so act |” The war was concluded before M. Martin was called to the colours. ‘The evils of invasion were confined in their case to material losses; their habitual order and economy in home life brought them through this tragic period without too much privation. With the return of peace, M. and Mme Martin decided to retire to the residence in the rue Saint Blaise, which had become theirs by the death of the grandfather, M. Guérin. The house was situated near the church of Notre-Dame. A simpler and more retired residence would be hard to find; adjoining on one side a quiet dwelling, it was separated on the other from the neighbouring house by a garden trellis. With its ground floor pierced by only two windows, with three arched windows to light its second floor, it appeared somewhat small for a large family; but the two elder girls, who were then boarders at Le Mans, spent only vacation-time at Alengon, and the parents, always adverse to ostentation, aspired to nothing beyond simplicity and good taste in their home. Witha 24 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS rather larger garden for her children's play, Mme Martin would have been perfectly content. Before the retirement of M. Martin they had been blessed with two more children. Marie-Céline, born in 1869, was to brighten the household with her laughter; but Marie-Mélanie-Thérése, born in 1870, had gone to join her little brothers in paradise. Of these the courageous mother wrote: ‘“‘ Four of my children are already in their eternal home, and the others —yes, the others—will also go to that heavenly kingdom, laden with more merits, for they will have been longer in the fight.’’+ Christian hope healed every painful wound, and gave her that resigned attitude of mind which was visible even to strangers, and which those little versed in the wonders of God’s love took for indifference or coldness. In spite of fresh trials, destined to fortify their virtue, Louis and Zélie spent in this house six years of the purest joy and happiness. Into this atmosphere of tender piety, of domestic peace and mutual forbearance, came on January 2, 1873, another child, hailed, like the rest, with transports of joy. It was the “‘ little missionary,” the object of such ardent longings and fervent prayers. Contrary to the expecta- tion of her parents, or to what anyone could foresee, this frail little daughter was destined to win to God, by the power of her intercession and of her miracles, more souls than the greatest apostle of foreign lands.* The two elder girls, who were home for the holidays, were sleeping in their little room on the second floor when, towards midnight, M. Martin received this new gift from heaven. He mounted the stairs with light step, ' Histotre d’une Ame : Introduction, p. xxxi. 2 One day, as Mme Martin was singing, she seemed to hear the child singing also. Itwasahappy augury. The soul which was about to make its entrance into the world was truly une ame chantante. ———— ANCESTRAL ORIGIN 25 and arousing them, announced in joyous tones, ‘‘ My children, you have a little sister.” Marie and Pauline joined him in fervent thanks to God. To follow the life of the newly-born little one will be henceforward the unique object of our work. Before speaking of the wonders of this life, it was fitting that we should present to the reader those chosen souls whose wise guardianship partly explains its secret.} 1 Some readers may consider the details regarding the ancestors of Thérése too diffuse. In fact, had this work con- formed to the canons of an ordinary biography it would have been necessary to abridge. But the desire of Catholic readers to learn every detail connected with the life of this new saint seems to show that they would be glad to enter as far as possible into that family circle so worthy of her. CHAPTER II EARLY INFANCY OF ‘‘ LITTLE THERESE ” to the child. Her future godfather, Paul Albert Boul, son of one of M. Martin’s friends, although he lived in Alencon, caused some delay. Anxious on account of this delay, Mme Martin besought God that he would not allow her child to die without baptism. At last, on the afternoon of January 4, everything was in readiness for the great ceremony, and the whole family set out for the church of Notre-Dame. ‘This church, with its three-sided porch surmounted by gracefully pointed arches, and lighted by small apertures of highly elaborate style, with its trifortum of rare elegance and its glistening stained glass windows of fifteenth- and sixteenth-century design, was a joy to artists, as well as to the faithful who came to pray and meditate within its walls smoothed by the long caress of the years. But it is not in the boldly curved arches, nor yet in the beautiful stained glass windows, each depicting an in- cident in the life of the Blessed Virgin,' that the most lively interest of the present-day pilgrim is centred. In the first chapel to the left, near a baptismal font of rather original design, and, until quite recently, before a group representing the baptism of Christ, the flames of innumerable candles bend to the north wind which blows M ARIE, the eldest sister, was chosen as godmother 1 The stained glass windows of Notre-Dame are admirably executed. They form two series. One depicts scenes from the life of the Blessed Virgin; the other scenes from the Old Testa- ment. Between the two series is a window showing the tree of Jesse. Allare in good preservation. 26 EARLY INFANCY OF “ LITTLE THERESE ” ay through the crevices made in the window by the ravages of winter.* Here persons of rank and wealth come side by side with the poor, to kneel in silent prayer and to offer their ex votos to the blessed soul regenerated long ago in this corner of the old church. The Sacrament of Baptism was conferred by Abbé Lucien-Victor Dumaine, a priest of the parish and personal friend of the Martin family. This priest, who became later Vicar-General of Séez, was to be a witness in the process of beatification of the child, whom he regenerated that day to the divine life. But who, on that cold January afternoon, could have predicted for her so glorious a future ?? In accordance with her parents’ vow, this child received, like her sisters, the name of Marie, Francoise-Thérése being added, of which the last became her usual name in the family. Pure as the dome of heaven studded with stars, white as a snow-clad countryside, Thérese was carried home in the arms of the faithful servant Louise, while the bells of Notre-Dame rang out in gladness. Mme Martin was now satisfied ; her mind was at rest. Weeks passed by, weeks full of radiant hope. ‘The mother took to herself the charge of nursing her dear little one, on whose brow she seemed already to discern the divine light. But very soon her strength failed, and the child, too, began to decline. ‘Thérése was following in the way of the little angels who were gone. ‘They were calling her, perhaps; another sacrifice seemed to be 1 A slab to commemorate the baptism of Thérése Martin has recently been put up in this chapel. A statue of the saint with a richly ornamented altar has also been erected there. A new window depicting the baptism of Thérése has replaced the old one described above. 2 Abbé Dumaine was as learned as he was wise. He has left an important work on local history entitled Tinchebray et sa région au bocage normand. 28 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS demanded of the poor parents. Every means was em- ployed to avert the threatened calamity. The family doctor declared that one chance of life alone remained, to confide Thérése to the care of a healthy nurse. Mme Martin had already had one of her children nursed by the wife of a farmer and mother of a large family living at some distance from Alengon. Her full name was Rose Taillé, but on account of her small stature, and, perhaps too, because of her prepossessing and pleasing manner, she was called by those who knew her ‘‘ little Rose.”’ The poor mother grasped eagerly at this one chance of saving the life of her child. “If it had not been so late,’’ she writes, ‘‘ 1 would have gone instantly to get the nurse. How long the night seemed! 'Thérése would scarce swallow a few drops of milk; the gravest symptoms that had preceded the death of the other little ones began to appear. I was sorely grieved that my poor babe could get no help from me in her feeble state. At daybreak I set out to find the nurse who lived at Semallé, almost two leagues from Alengon. My husband was away, and I did not wish to entrust to anyone else the success of my errand. In a lonely part of the road I met two men, and for a moment felt frightened; but I said to myself: ‘ Even though they should kill me, I do not care.’ I was sick at heart. At last I arrived at the nurse’s house, and asked her if she would come with me and remain with us, but she said that she could not leave her home and children; she would stay with me eight days and then take Thérése back with her. I consented, knowing that my child would be very safe in her care.’’! The two women reached Alencon in the forenoon. At sight of the dying child the nurse shook her head discouragingly, evidently thinking that it was too late. Mme Martin, grieved beyond measure at the pitiful aspect of the babe, hastened to her room, and throwing + Unpublished letter to her sister-in-law, March, 1873. EARLY INFANCY OF “ LITTLE THERESE ” 29 herself on her knees before a statue of St Joseph, invoked, with tears but with hope that never faltered, that patron of every hope-bereft cause. She then returned to the room below. Unexpected joy! The child, in the nurse’s arms, seemed to have come back to life. But the joy was fleeting, for, as though finally vanquished by the malady, little Thérése fell back again on the peasant’s lap; not a sign of life remained, not a breath, nothing! ... Amid her tears, the heroic mother’s piety gave her sufficient courage to offer a prayer of thanks to God that death had come so gently to her little one. Then, suddenly, Thérése opened her eyes once more, her features were reanimated, and she smiled as she gazed up at her mother. St Joseph had hearkened to that mother’s prayer; the child but a moment before at the point of death appeared now quite revived. The nurse was obliged to return to her home, but carried away in her arms the little Thérése. As may be easily imagined, a farmhouse in Basse- Normandie holds few attractions for a town-dweller. One or two apartments of stone or mud, with a roof of thatch, form the dwelling. To this retreat, surrounded as it is by evil-smelling stables, situated beside a cattle- pen which is a water-logged swamp during the winter months, and in summer little more than a manure-heap with pools of stagnant water, the Bocage peasant retires after his daily labour in the fields. To one of these humble dwellings was the little invalid brought. This simple home, a one-storied building with three openings, had still its cradle, for a child had been born to the farmer but a year before. Three other playful and happy mites gathered round to gaze on the new-comer in smiling wonder. As tothe rest, the cottage was comparatively neat and clean, and Mme Martin knew from the good woman’s former services that “‘ little Rose ”’ could be relied upon to give conscientious care 30 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS toher charge. But internal troubles, so common amongst young children, are usually tenacious. Little Thérése had been in Semallé not quite three weeks when she got a fresh attack, which awakened anew her mother’s gravest fears. ‘ We find this letter from Mme Martin to her relations at Lisieux, dated March 30, 1873: ‘“‘ Since Thérése had been taken over by the nurse she had been very well, and had even grown a good deal. But the internal irritation was only allayed for a time and has, since Friday last, attacked her throat and chest. When the doctor visited her she was in high fever... . He told me, however, that he did not think her in danger. ‘Today she is better, but I am in great fear; I doubt whether we shall be able to bring her up. ... I have done every- thing I can to save her life. If now the good God wills to dispose otherwise, I will strive to bear the trial with all possible patience. There is indeed need to reanimate my courage. I have already suffered much during my life. I should wish, my dear friends, that you were more fortunate than I: it grieves me to see that trials also come your way.” ‘The concluding words of the letter refer to a recent fire which had caused great damage to a portion of the pharmacy belonging to M. Guérin. For the rest, the Martin family had not seen the last of their sorrows. Before Thérése had gained health, Marie, her eldest sister and godmother, was attacked at Le Mans by typhoid fever and obliged to leave school. For weeks she lay ill at Alencgon, anxiously watched over by her mother. Every day, and oftentimes the greater part of the night, were spent by Mme Martin at the bed- | side of her daughter. Meanwhile orders were pouring in, the workers had to be directed, and the lace delivered at the promised time. The poor mother was weighed down with the heavy burthen, but her faith did not for a 1 Unpublished letter. iz EARLY INFANCY OF “‘ LITTLE THERESE ”’ 31 moment fail. Even in her own sorrow she had a thought for the trials of others. She wrote, at this time, to Mme Guerin: “* Each has his own cross to bear; some receive a heavier load than others. You have already begun to learn, dear sister, that life is not all strewn with roses. God, in His goodness, has decreed this in order to detach us from the earth, and to turn our thoughts towards heaven.’ She admits, nevertheless, that she herself had need of supernatural help in her great distress of soul. **T never leave the sick-room, and sometimes remain on my feet the whole night. The grace of God is surely necessary at such a time as this to keep one from breaking down.”’? Her husband realized the necessity of obtaining that grace, or at least of prolonging its effects, We find him imposing on himself, for his daughter’s cure, those primitive penances which, fifty years ago, were common in the cantons of Normandy, to obtain the intercession of some local patron saint. On May 5 Mme Martin wrote to her daughter Pauline: “‘ Your father sets out this morning for the ridge of Chaumont to make a pilgrimage on behalf of Marie. He goes fasting and will return fasting. He wants to do penance in order that God may hear his prayers; he has to travel six leagues on foot.’ God had already, at this time, answered in part the prayers of the poor parents for their two sick children. On April 20 the mother had been able to write these reassuring words: ‘‘ The nurse brought our little Thérése here today; she is quite well and strong.” Slowly, after frequent relapses, Marie too became convalescent, and once more gladness reappeared in the family circle. Sometimes little Thérése was the innocent 1 Unpublished letter. 2 Unpublished letter to her sister-in-law, April 13, 1873. > Unpublished letter. 32 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS messenger of joy, although her visits had on a few occasions other unforeseen effects. Thus one Sunday “little Rose” brought her, all unexpectedly, to Alengon, and without any previous announcement took her to the rue Saint Blaise. ‘We did not expect Thérése,” writes Mme Martin; ‘the nurse arrived with her four children at half-past eleven, just as we were sitting down to table. She put the baby in my arms and went off immediately to Mass. ** Yes, but the little one would not have this; she criea until we thought she would swoon away. Everyone in the house was upset. I had to send Louise’ to ask the nurse to come back immediately after Mass, as she had intended to make some delay in purchasing shoes for her children. She left before Mass was half finished and came running up to the house. I was vexed at that; the babe would not have died from crying. “‘ She became happy immediately. She is quite strong; everybody is surprised. I rocked her in my arms and walked about so much, trying to quiet her, that I had a pain in my back for the remainder of the day !’”? What a consolation for Mme Martin, after months of anxiety, to feel at last reassured about the life which had seemed so near its end. The child’s recovery could not indeed be attributed to delicate care. When the farmer’s wife was going out to the fields she placed Thérése on some straw in the bottom of her barrow, and thus wheeled her along the grassy paths through the clover and flowers to the spot where her husband was working. When milking-time came she carried the little one with her in her apron, so that Thérése lived constantly in the open air amidst the fragrance of the fresh hay and the scent of the ripe corn. In this way she became ‘“ browned by the sun,” and 1 A servant in the Martin family. * Unpublished letter to Pauline, May 5, 1873. EARLY INFANCY OF “‘ LITTLE THERESE ” 22 grew daily more robust from inhaling the chemicals given out by the harvest-bearing fields. From constant intercourse with this peasant family Thérése developed rustic instincts. Mme Martin had occasion to notice this almost every month when little scenes took place of which she chose to see only the pleasant side. She wrote on May 22 to her daughter Pauline: '“T saw little Thérése on Tuesday last. The nurse brought her here but she would not stay, and cried loudly when she found herself left with us. Louise had to take her to the market where ‘“‘ little Rose ”’ had gone to sell her butter; there was no other way out of the difficulty. The moment she caught sight of her nurse she began to smile, and cried no more. She remained there selling butter with all the women until midday. I know I could not hold her long in my arms without being really tired. She weighs fourteen pounds. She will be very winning and graceful later on.’’! The trifling incidents that went to make up the early days of Thérése differ very slightly from those which every mother may observe. Now comes what would seem to be the first manifestation of the presence of the Holy Spirit in the soul of the little child. It was November 30, 1873; Thérése was eleven months old. Her mother, writing to Pauline, tells of her physical development, and notices the dawning reflection on her countenance of the inward beauty of a child of God: “I expect that she will be able to walk unaided in five or six weeks more. You have only to put her standing beside a chair, and she remains quite steady—never falls. She takes her own little precautions to accomplish this and appears very intelligent. She is continually smiling ; she has the expression of one who is predestined.” 2 Unpublished letter. 2 Ibid, 3 34. ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS On January 11 following we find this letter: ‘My little Thérése has since Thursday been able to walk alone. She is sweet and lovely as a little angel. She has a charming disposition, that is apparent already; and she has such a winning smile. I long to have her with us again.” Was it not remarkable to see this frail infant, only a year old, already revealing by her sweet disposition and the unmistakable light of her countenance, the abiding presence of God in her soul, finding His delight in its innocent depths ? Thérése had been taken back to Alencon on April 2, 1874. The danger so feared by the family seemed to have passed. Marie, too, was growing strong again; Pauline, at the Visitation Convent, proved the constant joy of her teachers and the consolation of her mother; little Céline, of a lively and amiable disposition, and very quick intelligence, triumphed over certain symptoms which had given cause for disquietude. As for Léonie, everything gave promise for the near future of the expansion and activity, hitherto indeterminate, of her good qualities. Gladdened by the constant caresses of their children, the parents soon forgot their distress of mind. ‘The sight alone of her who was to be the “little Queen ”’ was sufficient to fill their hearts with joy. ‘‘ Of all, except my first child, she is the most robust,” declared Mme Martin. ‘“ She will be pretty; even now she has a pleasing grace; she has a tiny mouth, which I particularly admire.’”? In the midst of his happiness, M. Martin never forgot his debt of thanks to God. In May, 1873, after the cure of his daughter Marie, he went to Notre-Dame de Chartres to offer a prayer of gratitude. In October * Unpublished letter to her brother and her sister-in-law, January 11, 1874. * Unpublished letter to her sister-in-law, June 1, 1874. | | EARLY INFANCY OF ‘‘ LITTLE THERESE ”’ a5 of the same year he went on the diocesan pilgrimage to Lourdes, and brought back with him two large pieces of stone which he had detached from the rock of Massa- bielle, two yards distant from the spot of the Apparition. To these pilgrimages of penance and thanks this fervent soul joined more assiduously than ever the practice of nocturnal Adoration. Mme. Martin, on her part, surrounded as she was by her devout children who seemed already to give signs of the call to religious life, encouraged in the way of self- abnegation and piety by her saintly Visitandine sister, made daily effort to progress towards union with God, after the example of her husband. She wrote freely to her two eldest daughters, who were again together at the convent, of her intention to undertake a vigilant fight against nature. We give the letter in the familiar style _ of her native Normandy. ‘‘ I must go to Vespers to pray for the souls of our dead,” she writes on the evening of All Saints Day. “A day will come when you will go also to pray for me; but I must so act now as not to have too much need of your prayers. I earnestly wish to become a saint. It will not be easy; a great deal yet remains to be ‘ hewn’ off, and the wood is hard as stone. It would have been better to have commenced earlier in life, the task would have been less difficult, but ‘ better late than never.’ ’”! Needless to say that we have here the language of humility, and that the struggle towards perfection had been undertaken long before. M. Martin was a loving father, especially towards his younger children. So captivated was he by the charms of Thérése that he called her even then his ‘‘ Queen,” and sought to provide many little pleasures for her. The child must have been precocious beyond her age, 1 Unpublished letter to her daughters Marie and Pauline November 1, 1873. 36 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS for when only eighteen months old she was offered amusements which ordinarily belong to children more advanced. In June, 1874, M. Martin erected in their little garden a swing for the amusement of Céline and Thérése. It was wonderful to see how Thérése enjoyed the motion of the swing, imagining, no doubt, that she was floating on wings. ‘“‘ She acts just like an older child,’’ writes her mother. ‘‘ There is no danger that she will let go the rope; when the swing is not going high enough she calls out to us; we tie a cord in front to keep her from falling off, but notwithstanding that, I cannot feel at rest when I see her perched aloft.’ This exercise did, no doubt, appear somewhat violent for a child of her age; but God, who had such glorious designs for her, preserved her by means which sometimes seemed to defy the laws of nature. The following incident, related by Mme Martin, gives a striking ex- ample of this: * Quite lately I had a singular experience with the little one. It was my custom to go to Mass every morning at half-past five. At first I did not dare to leave her alone, but, seeing that she never awakened, I decided at last to leave her. I put her therefore to sleep in my bed, and placed the cradle so close beside it that it was impossible for her to fall out. “One day I forgot to place the cradle thus as a pro- tection, On my return I sawno Thérése. At that very moment I heard a cry, and looking, found her sitting on a chair close to the bed. Her head rested on the bolster, and there she was sleeping, uneasily, for she was in an uncomfortable position. “I cannot understand how she fell in such a way as to get seated on that chair. I thanked God when I found that she had come to no harm. It was certainly pro- vidential; she would, in ordinary circumstances, have fallen to the ground. Her guardian angel was there + Letter to her daughters Marie and Pauline, June 25, 1874. EARLY INFANCY OF “‘ LITTLE THERESE ” 37 keeping watch over her, and the souls in purgatory, whose intercession I ask for her every day, saved her.’’! Up to this time, Thérése’s faculties had lain dormant in the silent torpor of early infancy. At most, the light of heaven which seems to caress the brow of every little child, as it smiles perhaps an answering smile to the angels, appeared more distinctly reflected in her innocent countenance than in that of other babes. Now her soul began gradually to awaken. From the age of eighteen months Thérése manifested, in her own charming and naive way, a tender love for her mother. This was not always, be it admitted, “‘ the perfect love” without hope of recompense; nevertheless, Mme Martin smiled with delight at these first lispings of her little daughter. “* Picture to yourselves,”’ she wrote to Marie and Pauline, “the baby coming to embrace me and stroke my face with her little hand. I can see that she has some idea behind it all. She wants ‘a scarf pin. ...’ The poor baba, she cannot bear to leave me, and is continually at my side; she loves going into the garden, but if I am not there, does not want to stay, and cries until she is brought back to me.’” This good mother was soon to taste purer and deeper joy. She wished that the first words spoken by her child should be words of prayer, and on November 8, 1874, this baby, aged only twenty-two months, offered to the “good Jesus ” the love of her innocent soul with words and with a sincerity that delighted the heart of her mother. “ My little Thérése,’’ she said, ‘‘ grows every day more charming; she prattles from morning till night. She sings little songs for us; but you must become accustomed to her in order to understand. She says her prayers like a little angel; it is ideal.’’® Soon she was brought to church, and it was wonderful 1 Unpublished letter. pies “Ai 2 Unpublished letter to Marie and Pauline at the Visitation Convent. 3 Unpublished letter to her sister-in-law. 38 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS to see the interest which this child of two years took in the sacred functions; she seemed already to understand their meaning and import. Let her mother again describe her childlike actions, and her innocent remarks; we have nothing of greater worth than these accounts from so authoritative a witness to enable us to catch a glimpse of the first workings in this little soul. “ Thérése continues always in good health: she has an air of well-being. She says very amusing things. She already knows how to pray to the good God, and goes every Sunday to a part of Vespers; if, unfortunately, she is left at home, she cries and will not be comforted. “‘ Some weeks ago she was taken for a walk on Sunday. She had not been ‘ at Mass’ as she said herself. On returning from the walk she began to cry vigorously, saying that she wanted to go to Mass. She opened the hall door and ran away, in torrents of rain, towards the church. When we had run after her and brought her back, her tears and lamentation lasted a good hour. “‘ Once she said out aloud to me in church: ‘ I have been at Mass here, and I have prayed well to the good God too.’ When, on her father’s return home this evening, she did not see him say his prayers, she said: ‘ Why do you not say your prayers, papa? Have you already been to church ?” “Since the beginning of Lent, I go to six o’clock Mass, and often she is awake when I leave the house. Before I go, she says to me, ‘ Mama, I am going to be very good.’ In fact, she never stirs, but goes off to sleep again.’”! Allowing for the influence of example in religious exercises which affects the children of Christian families, the fact remains that a child of two years, whose attraction for the things of God was so great as to draw her towards the church in torrents of rain, manifested by her unusual courage, the interior influence of the Holy Spirit urging her, even then, “‘ to refuse nothing to Jesus.” * Unpublished letter to her sister-in-law, March 14, 1875. EARLY INFANCY OF ‘‘ LITTLE THERESE ”’ 39 Mme Martin’s heart rejoiced at these first gleams of supernatural light; but to those joys were often added the sudden and passing anxieties of a mother; such as when Thérése fell one day against the leg of a table and cut her forehead so badly that it was feared she would bear the mark all her life; or when, scarcely cured of one cold, she would contract another. But children, as we know, although liable to be affected seriously by the least accident, recover just as quickly. The clouds soon dis- appeared after each little storm, and the first smile of Thérése, on recovering from these not very serious attacks, brought back the light anew to her mother’s face. From this time onward the family enjoyed frequent periods of tranquil happiness. There is a painting which represents the complete group of children gathered around M. and Mme Martin in their sitting-room, in the rue Saint Blaise, during the quiet evening hours, probably towards the end of Sep- tember when Marie and Pauline were on vacation at Alencon. In the subdued lamplight each one is occupied or at rest according to inclination. ‘The father, his grave countenance rendered more venerable by his already white hair, has opened a newspaper, but he is more concerned with his children than with the news of the day, and he is speaking to Léonie, who is finishing some school task. Marie is leaning on the back of her mother’s chair. Her attention is centred on little Thérése, who, kneeling on her mother’s lap with joined hands and eyes raised heavenwards, addresses herself to the little Jesus, whom she seems almost to see, as through a transparent veil. Kneeling at her mother’s feet, Céline joins her prayer to that of her little sister whose dearest companion she was henceforth to be, while Pauline has interrupted her reading and sits smiling at the angelic child in converse with God. A beautiful and homely picture they make, a picture which gives an idea of the tastes and family life of the Martin household. Its members did not, it is true, 40 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS form a rigorously closed circle, but their habitual inter- course scarcely extended beyond their nearest relations. The deep affection of Mme Martin for her brother is already known to the reader. The more she knew of her sister-in-law, a woman of tender devotedness and solid piety, the more did she appreciate her friendship, and Mme Guérin became the confidante of all her joys and sorrows. Mme Martin always made of her visit to Lisieux a special holiday; not indeed that she sought relaxation for herself, but she knew what pleasure it gave the children to have a few hours’ play with little Jeanne Guérin and her sister Marie. In the same way, the greatest pleasure of New Year’s Day for the two families was the interchange of many and various presents, which on the one side and on the other aunts and uncles sent as New Year gifts to their little nieces. One outing, however, had for Mme Martin a deeper, if not a sweeter, charm than the visit to Lisieux. She prized her day in the Visitation Convent of Le Mans above all others. ‘This holy soul, who had at one time serious thoughts of the religious life, felt a profound attraction for the recollection and the self-abnegation of the cloister. When she found that her dearly loved sister had been attacked by phthisis, and that her days were numbered, her devotion redoubled towards the fervent religious who had, in great measure, been a mother to her two eldest children. | Mme Martin was anxious also that this dear sister should see her little Thérése, who gave, even as a child, so great promise of virtue. Who knows? Perhaps this little daughter would one day occupy in a convent choir the place that she had thought destined for herself. So, one morning in April, 1875, they set out by train for Le Mans. “I took with me,” writes Mme Martin, “little Thérése, who was delighted to travel by train. . . . EARLY INFANCY OF ‘‘ LITTLE THERESE ” 41 When we had arrived at Le Mans she was tired and began to cry, but became quite bright afterwards, and behaved like a grown girl all the time we remained in the parlour. Why she cried when we went in I do not know; her heart was full; the tears fell freely. She was convulsed with silent weeping. Perhaps the grille frightened her. Afterwards all went well. She answered every question addressed to her, as if she were undergoing an examina- tion. ““'The Superioress came to see her, and gave her some little presents. When I said to her ‘ Ask the good Mother for her blessing,’ she caused a general laugh by replying: ‘Mother, will you come home with us ?’ ’’4 We may smile at this little incident, but can we not see, even in this childish request, the inclination of the little soul towards everything which spoke of God, were it even the austere vesture of a religious ? But are we to suppose that Thérése was altogether free from childish caprice, from those quick flashes of child- nature, where a word or a cry reveals the naturally self- willed temperament of all very young children? This would be the more astonishing, since, according to the testimony of Mme Martin, her husband had been in- clined at first rather to spoil the little one. But even amidst childishly persistent and unreasonable demands, an ingenuous remark, an unexpected request, proved that Thérése was losing nothing of her growing piety. One day, when she offered some resistance, Mme Martin insisted on obedience from her little daughter. She wrote afterwards to Pauline that “little Thérése is very lovable.” Then she adds: ‘‘ On Sunday, after I had gone to bed, she told me that she had not said her prayers. I replied: ‘Goto sleep; you shall say them to- morrow.’ But that did not satisfy her. To end the matter, her father helped her to say them. But he was 1 Unpublished letter to her brother and her sister-in-law, April 29, 1875. 42 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS not the teacher all the time. They had to say ‘ Grace.’ He was not sure what this was for. In the end he had said everything nearly according to her ideas, and we had peace until the following morning.” Negligible details, the reader may be inclined to say at first. Perhaps so, if it were question of an ordinary child; but what seriously-minded Catholic will not be interested in searching for the first traces of divine influence in a soul which was to become afterwards so fruitful a source of supernatural charity ? The love of this innocent soul for God, and her attrac- tion towards heaven where His presence could be eternally enjoyed, led Thérése at times to give utterance to un- expected wishes. One day she surprised her mother by throwing her arms around her and telling her that she wished her to die. ‘‘ Oh, how I wish you would die, my poor little mother.’’ On her mother protesting, Thérése explained: “‘ But it is that you may go to heaven, since you say we must die to go there.’ And Mme Martin adds: “‘ She expresses the same wish to her father in the fervour of her love for him.’’! The desire of pleasing our Lord, or at least unwilling- ness to cause him pain, prompted her even at so early.an age to overcome certain imperious tendencies which arose instinctively in her nature. After leaving school Marie began to give lessons to Céline, who was three years and eight months older than Thérése. Thérése eagerly insisted on being allowed to stay in the room during lesson-time; nor was this without profit, for Mme Martin records that, at the end of December, 1875, before her third year was completed, Thérése knew almost all her letters and was even begin- ning to read.? 1 Letter of Mme Martin to her daughter Pauline, December 5, * Unpublished letter to her sister-in-law, December 23, 1875. - EARLY INFANCY OF “ LITTLE THERESE ”’ 43 Some months later in a letter to Pauline the mother wrote with ever growing delight: ‘“‘ She is endowed with more intelligence than I noticed in any of you.’ But the child’s anxiety to learn was sometimes em- barrassing. Marie, fearing that her work as teacher would be impeded by Thérése, did not always invite her tocome. But the little one was not to be denied; she came of her own accord. ““ One day,” Marie tells us, “‘ I saw her at the door of my room. She was trying to open it, but was too small to reach the handle. I waited to see what she would do; would she begin to cry, or would she call some one to open it forher? But no; she did not say a word, simply lay down outside the door in disappointment at her failure. “I told my mother of the incident. She said to me: * She must not be allowed to do that.’ “On the following day the same thing happened. Then I said: ‘ Thérése, you are grieving the Little Jesus.’ She looked at me earnestly. So well did she understand that never since has she repeated that action.”? Wonderful instance of divine solicitude; under the guiding influence of the virtues infused at baptism, virtues guarded and fostered by a mother’s loving care, the fear and love of God had already sown in the soul of this child of two years seeds which were daily springing forth into meritorious acts. Mme Martin was mindful of the ambition of her early motherhood: ‘‘ That all her children might be con- secrated to God.”’ What a joy! For a long time she feared that this dream would never be realized; but her hopes began now to revive. The deep and earnest piety of Marie, supported by a ready and acute intelligence, her constant application, her simple and modest tastes, 1 Unpublished letter to Pauline, March 22, 1877. , 2 Unpublished note of Scur Marie du Sacré-Cceur (Marie), of the Carmel of Lisieux. 44 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS pointed undoubtedly to a religious vocation. The brilliant qualities of Pauline might have given grounds to fear vanity, but that she was as obedient as industrious and her earnest preparation of class-work was exceeded by her fidelity to religious exercises. The account of her progress at the Visitation Convent was her mother’s great joy and consolation. ‘‘ You are my true friend,” she wrote to Pauline; ‘‘ you give me courage to bear trial with patience. ... I feel grateful to you for the joy that you are to us all. God will be your recompense in this world as well as in the next, for duty faithfully done brings its reward of happiness even here below.’”* Despite the inequalities of an uneven temperament, Léonie showed so real an attachment to her aunt in the convent as to give rise to the thought that she might one day join her there. In 1875 Sr Marie-Dosithée wrote to her brother, M. Guérin: “‘ Léonie inspires me with great hopes for the future. True she is somewhat difficult to manage, but she has a heart of gold. I find in her a fund of good sense and great force of character. When this child sees her duty nothing will hold her back from carrying it out.’’? In 1875 Céline was six years of age. ‘“‘ She is,” says Mme Martin, “‘ very gentle, she learns easily, and will be a charming child, if God leaves her with us.””® As to the little Benjamin of the family, who manifested so clearly by her unexpected remarks and precocious reflections the impress of the Holy Spirit, there was good reason to hope that she would one day be united to Him for ever. In order to keep alive these high aspirations, Mme Martin gave her moments of leisure to the reading of some book which portrayed the joys of the religious life, joys which 1 Unpublished letter to Pauline, December 5, 1875. * Unpublished letter: Family Archives. ® Céline was, in fact, of a delicate constitution. Unpublished letter of November, 1875. ‘ EARLY INFANCY OF ‘‘ LITTLE THERESE ”’ 45 had at one time won her own heart, and which she desired now more than ever for her children. ““I am reading at present,’ she wrote, ‘‘ the life of St Chantal. Iam rapt in admiration. It is all the more interesting for me, because I have a great love for the Order of the Visitation; I love it now more than ever. How fortunate are they who are called to that sacred retreat.” And some weeks later we find the following: ‘‘I do nothing but dream of the cloister and solitude. Indeed, with the ideas that I have, I do not know how it was not my vocation either to remain unmarried or to enter a convent. I would now wish to live to a great age, so that I might retire into solitude when all my children have been brought up.’”? . But these hopes of long life and of peaceful old age in the retirement of the cloister were not to be satisfied. God had other designs for that chosen one who was preparing souls to be consecrated to Him in the religious life. By the merit of suffering heroically endured she will complete the spiritual formation of her elder children, and will obtain for little Thérése—that child already predestined—grace to become, one day, the purest victim of God’s merciful love. 1 Unpublished letter to her daughter Pauline, December 5 1875. 2 Unpublished letter to Pauline, January 16, 1876. CHAPTER III GROWING VIRTUE OF THERESE—HER FIRST GREAT TRIAL surround me with love: my earliest memories are of smiles and tender caresses.”* ‘Thérése attributes her early attraction towards good, which we have already noticed in its commencement, to the in- fluence of this holy affection and the example of every family virtue. We must add to these the austere action of trial which raised her young soul, deprived from the first of the unstable happiness of earth, towards the joys of heaven. Before setting out to follow her progress in the path of virtue, we must first complete the picture of this family life where self-denial was the sustaining force of charity, and where the devotedness of each called forth from the others the most meritorious effort by the influence of example. Notice first these actions which, in their daily exercise by the parents before the eyes of 'Thérése, must have given her little by little a high sense of duty. The traits thus described will serve to bring into clearer outline the picture of this Christian home. i | my whole life God has been pleased to We have already given the reader an idea of Mme Martin’s zeal for work; but her husband, although retired from his former business, did not leave his wife unaided in her lace industry. On the front of the house occupied by the family was a marble slab bearing this inscription: ‘‘ Louis Martin, Manufacturer of Point d’Alengon,” and this notice gives 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. i, p. 8. 46 GROWING VIRTUE OF THERESE 47 an indication of the very real part which the master of the house took in the work. It was M. Martin who trans- acted all the business outside the house and took charge of the delivery to distant places. He also often kept the accounts. These occupations gave him opportunity to practise virtues of which little Thérése, an astute observer from her infancy, took note, and marked the progress. Thus he would on no account take goods on credit; everything must be paid for on the spot. ‘The workers too must be paid regularly ‘‘ in order that,”’ as he said himself, “a justly earned wage or a sum of money due for goods received may not be retained unjustly, and further- more, to safeguard oneself from running into debt by inadvertence.”’ Neither would he increase his income by frequent speculation, even ifjustifiable. Hewould say: “I know I could easily take large profits by the skilful manipulation of my capital, but speculation is a slippery incline, and I have no desire whatever to follow too closely the fluctuating values of those perishable securities.” His strictness in observing the rest from servile work prescribed for the Lord’s Day, his scrupulous care in carrying out the Church’s exercises of penance, are already known to the reader. In this respect also his wife surpassed the ordinary practice of the faithful. What an example of self-denial and sacrifice we find in this noble woman who, having come to Lisieux eight months before her death to undergo an operation for an incurable disease of long standing, refused to partake of the evening meal prepared for her “‘ because it was an Ember Day, and she intended to keep the fast.” To such heroic souls as hers are the supernatural manifestations of heaven vouchsafed. We have seen with what tenderness Mme Martin watched over little Héléne until her death at the early age of five and a half years. Recalling afterwards a slight untruth that had 48 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS escaped the child in its innocent prattling, the mother was reflecting sorrowfully one day before a statue of the Blessed Virgin that her Héléne might be in purgatory, when from this statue, which was later to play a part in the life of Thérése, came the reassuring words: ‘‘ She is here at my side.””* With Heaven-sent communications this devout Catholic was also to experience, after the manner of certain saints who were physically tormented by the demon, the brutality of the powers of hell raised in jealous strife against her virtues. One evening,? as Mme Martin was sitting alone in the lower room, a passage of an edifying work which she had just laid down led her to meditate on the trials inflicted on the servants of God by the spirit of darkness. She said to herself: “‘ Such attacks of the evil one will never be directed against me; only the saints are destined for trials of this nature.” At that moment an enormous weight, as of the claw of some wild beast, bore down upon her shoulder. After the first sensation of terror caused by this ferocious attack followed the calm of a soul which feels above all that it is in the hands of God. ; Such were the lives that came daily under the notice of little Thérése. With “‘her quick intelligence, her open and impressionable mind,”* she observed these examples attentively, admired them, and under the influence of the Holy Spirit grew to love more and more these devoted parents whom she felt to be the harbingers of the divine goodness to her in her weakness. ‘‘ No one can imagine,” she wrote, ‘‘ how I loved papa and mama. I showed my affection for them in numberless ways, for 1 This statue had been presented to M. Martin before his marriage by a pious lacy in Alengon, who was called ‘ the saint.” 2 This happened before the birth of Thérése. 3 Unpublished letter of Mme Martin. GROWING VIRTUE OF THERESE 49 I was very demonstrative ; the ways I employed make me laugh now when I think of them.’’! With this tender affection as its inspiration and guiding force, the piety of her young soul developed. She wished to be a joy to her parents; she knew that they owed their perfection in every good to the great love they had for God; she understood, besides, that the beneficent Being must be loved above all, his commands obeyed, every- thing that would displease him avoided, and she set herself with all the ardour of her nature to follow these dictates of conscience. Nor was hers the unquestioning piety of a child satisfying itself in the incoherent recital of a few prayers; the first dawnings of reason in Thérése were applied to discerning the relation between the obligations imposed by God and the eternal recompense of heaven. Eternity of happiness is a reward—a reward which must be won by merit; this truth grasped already by the childish intelligence formed the keynote of her life. “‘ Thérése told me this morning,” writes Mme Martin, ‘ that she wished to go to heaven, and, to obtain this, she would always act like a little angel.’’? Her lofty idea of the goodness of God led her to believe, in her innocence, that the Almighty would never separate a child from its mother, even should that child offend him ever so much. Hear her in this little dialogue: “* Shall I go to heaven, mama?” “ Yes, if you are very good.”’ ‘‘ Ah, mama, if I was not good I should then go tohell. But I know what I would do, I would fly up to you in heaven, and you would hold me close in your arms. How then would God be able to take me away ?””® And her look confirmed her conviction that God would be powerless to touch her if she were once in the arms of her mother. | 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. i, p. 8. 2 Unpublished letter. 8 Letter of Mme Martin to her daughter Pauline, October 29, 1876, 4 50 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS Some months later she gave an example of more orthodox theology. On her sister Céline asking ‘‘ How can God be in a little host ?”’ Thérése replied: “‘ That is not so wonderful, since God is all-powerful.” ‘‘ And what does all-powerful mean?” “‘ It means that he can do everything he wills.’ We have been left the following charming picture sketched by Mme Martin in one of her letters to Pauline, still at the Visitation Convent. “Céline and Thérése are inseparable. Two more loving companions could not be found. When Céline is taken away for lessons Thérése is immediately in tears. Alas! what is she to do? Her little friend is going from her. . . . Marie takes pity on her and brings her also, and the poor baby sits at the table with them for two, or maybe three, hours. She is given pearls to string or a piece of cloth to sew. She does not dare to stir, and from time to time gives vent to a deep sigh, especially when her needle comes unthreaded, for she is not able to thread it and she dare not disturb Marie. ‘Then the big tears roll down her cheeks. Quickly Marie turns to console her, threads her needle again, and the poor little angel smiles through her tears.’’? But while her little fingers were busy her ears were open to all that was being said, and Thérése carried away in her naturally retentive memory many precious ideas, especially regarding the things of God. Thus she learned by listening much more quickly than by reading. While ever showing a predilection for holy things, Thérése set herself, at the age of four, to learn by heart little pieces of poetry which she recited in the family circle, to the great delight of everybody. As can be well imagined, Mme Martin found in these little family . Letter of Mme Martin to her daughter Pauline, May 10, 1077. * Unpublished letter, March 4, 1877. GROWING VIRTUE OF THERESE 51 gatherings around Thérése a solace in her heavy toil. Let us again hear her tell the glad thoughts that filled her heart. “This dear little one,’ she wrote to Pauline, ‘‘ is the joy of usall. She will be good; the seeds of goodness are plainly there already. She speaks only of God; she would not omit her prayers for all the world. I wish you could hear her recite little verses that she has learned by heart. Never have I seen anything so pleasing. Without any help she gets the exact expression and tone of voice. This is particularly true when she recites: “ Sweet little child with locks of gold, Where, think you, hath the Lord his Home ? —Wide earth doth the Almighty hold; He ruleth, too, the great blue dome. When she comes to the last line she raises her eyes to heaven with an expression truly angelic. We never tire of hearing her repeat it, so beautiful is her rendering; there is something so heavenly in her expression that we are enraptured.’ The influence of this family life where all were so united in the bonds of affection and holy joy, the atmosphere of tender love and piety ruling and penetrating every word and action, had a profound effect in the formation of Thérése’s character. To the undaunted faith and devotion of her mother, to the unfailing goodness—unmingled with weakness— of her saintly father, to the charming tenderness of sisterly _ affection, did this child owe, after God, her sweet gracious- ness as well as her desire to diffuse peace and joy around her, and her imperative wish to please, at any cost, the good Jesus whom she saw so ardently loved in her home. Before noting the final indications of the educative action of her parents, let us try to understand the part 1 Unpublished letter to Pauline, March 4, 1877. 52 ‘ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS which the influence of her sisters had in the formation of her character. We have on this subject the invaluable testimony of the saint’s own words: ‘‘ I remember,” she writes, ‘‘ the great love which I had at this time for my dear godmother (her sister Marie), who had just finished her studies at the Visitation Convent. Without seeming to do so, I took note of all that was done and said before me; I think I judged of everything then as now. I listened attentively to whatever she taught Céline. To obtain the favour of admission into the room during lessons I was very well- behaved and obeyed her in everything. She also gave me numerous little presents, which, although of small worth, pleased me immensely.””* Mme Martin shows by the following incident Marie’s authority over her godchild. “* Marie loves her little sister very much and finds her charming. Indeed, if she did not she would be hard to please, for the little one dreads lest she should go against Marie’s wishes in anything. Yesterday I wanted to give her a rose, knowing the delight she took in flowers, but she begged me not to cut it; Marie had forbidden that. She flushed crimson with emotion. In spite of all I cut two roses for her, but she would not dare to appear with them in the house. It was useless to reassure her that the roses belonged to me. ‘ No,’ she said; ‘ they are Marie’s.” A very small thing disturbs the child.’’? Notwithstanding her continual contact with the little one in her almost maternal capacity of first instructor, it was not this eldest sister who had the most marked influence on the formation and future of Thérése. Strange to relate, it was the example of a sister who lived as yet far away from her; stranger still, it was a little word concerning the vocation of Pauline which decided the destiny of Thérése. 1 Histotre d’une Ame, ch. i, p. 11. * Unpublished letter to Pauline, May 21, 1876. GROWING VIRTUE OF THERESE 53 She tells us this expressly herself: “From the time I commenced to speak, whenever mama asked me ‘ Of what are you thinking ?’ my in- variable answer was ‘ Of Pauline.’ Sometimes I heard others say that Pauline would be a religious; then, without knowing too well what it meant, I thought to myself “I also will be a religious.’ That is one of my first memories, and since then I never once changed my resolution. Her example it was that, from the age of two years, drew me towards the Divine Spouse of virgins.’”! Wonderful message from the God of Love to this faithful soul through that sister who, after having un- consciously drawn her towards the cloister from her earliest years, was afterwards to be her official guide in the way of perfection. ‘This declaration of Thérése regarding the unusual manifestation of God’s Providence towards her should be carefully borne in mind. It was this consciousness of vocation to a life of perfection, a con- sciousness prudently but constantly entertained, which explains the heroic resolution of Thérése, at the age of three, never to refuse anything to Jesus. The influence of Léonie on the education of Thérése seems to have been lessmarked. Naturally a very delicate child, she had to content herself with courses of studies in the town of Alengon, so that she was little at the house. There were times, however, when her affectionate nature expanded, and she lavished her tenderness on Thérése, whose generous heart responded with gladness. ‘‘ Dear little Léonie,”’ she writes, “‘ held also a large place in my heart; she loved me very much. In the evening, when she came home from lessons, she took care of me while the rest of the family went fora walk. Iseem to hear even now her gentle voice in the sweet refrains with which she sang me to sleep. I can recall her first Communion perfectly. I remember also her companion, the poor 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. i, p. 11. 54 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS child whom mother had dressed, according to a time- honoured custom among families in easy circumstances, at Alencon. This little girl never left Léonie’s side for an instant during the whole of that happy day, and in the evening at dinner she was given the place of honour.’’* This incident throws one more light on the picture of that charitable mother, who sought above all else to teach her children by good example. Céline, on account of her tender years, could not have the same influence as the other sisters on the life and habits of Thérése. Nevertheless her precocious qualities formed a real attraction for her little companion, for she also was a charming child. “I believe,’ her mother wrote, ‘‘ that Céline will be a great consolationtome. She has an exceptionally good disposition, quite above the ordinary. She is already most anxious to find out how she should prepare for her first Holy Communion.’’? But she was above all the confidante of her little sister, her constant companion in every childish game and recreation. It was Céline, more than any other, who was to create around Thérése that atmosphere of radiant joy, whose memory made her ever afterwards bless “ these sunny years of childhood.” It was also from her child- hood companionship with Céline that 'Thérése learned the sweetness of a pure and tender attachment which was to prepare her to receive later into her virginal heart, already trained to the immolation of self, the outpourings of divine love. What more pleasing than this scene from the life of the two sisters, traced by Mme Martin ? “Céline and Thérése love one another dearly: they never require other company than themselves alone. The nurse gave Thérése a cock and hen of the smaller variety of fowls; at once the child gave the cock to Céline. Every day, after dinner, Céline goes to catch the little 1 Histoire d’une Ame, p. 12. * Unpublished letter to Pauline, October 8, 1876. GROWING VIRTUE OF THERESE 55 cock. She catches it immediately, as well as the hen which, nevertheless, is not so easy to seize hold of; but Céline is so agile that with one bound she has it in her hands. Then they bring them in beside the fire and there amuse themselves for quite a long time. “On Sunday Thérése took it into her head to leave her own cot and go to sleep with Céline. The maid, on coming to dress her, found no Thérése. She saw her at last, but the little one clung to Céline, saying: ‘ Do | leave me here, Louise; you see that we two are like two little white chicks that cannot be separated.’’! Should Céline leave the table before Thérése, the latter would immediately leave her dessert unfinished and go join her sister. Oftentimes thoughts of higher things, or some pious word or remark, were intermingled with their innocent amusements. ‘‘On Sundays,” Thérése relates, “‘ as I was too small to go to Church, mama remained at home to take care of me. Under- standing the circumstances, I tried to behave very properly, and walked about only on tiptoe in order not to make any noise ; but when I heard the door being opened it was the signal for an outburst of joy. I would rush to my dearlittlesister, saying: ‘O Céline, give me quickly some of the blessed bread !’ One day she had none... . What was I to do? I could not remain deprived of it, for I called this feast my Mass. Al! at once I conceived a brilliant idea. ‘You have no blessed bread. Well then, make some!’ Céline opened the cupboard, took out the bread, cut off a morsel, and reciting over it the Ave Maria in a solemn tone, triumphantly presented it tome. And I, having first made the sign of the Cross, ate it with great devotion, finding that it tasted exactly like blessed bread.”’? Thus, in every circumstance, in the simplest actions 1 Letter to Pauline, November 8, 1876, reproduced in part in Histoire d’une Ame, ch. i, p. 14. 2 Histotre d'une Ame, ch. i, p. 14. 56 ST THERESE DE ‘L’ENFANT JESUS as well as in religious rites, we find the soul of this child penetrated with sentiments of piety which fostered in her respect for the things of God. We have passed in review some outstanding examples of religious courage and devotion, given by the parents to their children from their very infancy. The force of good example would not, it is true, have influenced Thérése so powerfully had not these loved ones who watched over her with such solicitude surrounded her at the same time with love. It was by love that they developed divine charity within her to so high a degree— charity urging her to sacrifice and even to death. In all Mme Martin’s dealings with her daughters, tenderness was governed by virility of character. Hers was that strength of will which would never, for any consideration, foster a dangerous disposition in her children. On the other hand she was ready, when occasion offered, to shower upon them the sweetest and most touching marks of attachment. She has alluded, herself, to the loving condescension which she showed to the childish desires of Thérése. . “She. will not go up the stairs alone,”’ she writes, ‘without calling out at each step ‘Mama! Mama!’ An- other step, another cry of ‘Mama!’ And if, by chance, I forget to reply at each call ‘ Yes, my little child !’ she remains there without moving a single step.’”! On the part of her father, we see examples of even more demonstrative affection. The moment he returns from business, Thérése runs to him, throws her arms around him, and unceremoniously seats herself on his foot. Her delight is then to have herself carried along, mounted in this way. Mme Martin smilingly reproaches her husband for complying with every wish of Thérése. * Well, after all,” he says, “‘is she not the Queen?” And 1 Letter of Mme Martin, quoted in the Histoire d’une Ame, ch. ipo: a GROWING VIRTUE OF THERESE 57 he forthwith takes her in his arms, seats her on his shoulder, embraces her, and showers upon her every mark of tenderness. This upbringing by love, where the thought of God and the desire to please Him above all held so large a place, had no hurtful influence on the development of the normal qualities of Thérése. Grace perfected nature, without destroying it. Like all children of her years, she loved play; not the more violent open-air pastimes,’ but indoor amusements, for which she was well pro- vided with a varied collection of playthings, toy-carriages, dolls of different models, and ribbons to adorn them. She was delighted with a box of delicious bonbons which her uncle and aunt in Lisieux sent her on the occasion of a baptism. When afterwards someone spoke in her presence about the wealth of a rich proprietor, she clapped her hands and exclaimed that she preferred her aunt’s present to all the lands of this potentate. But beyond everything else, before her toys and even cakes, she preferred flowers: garden flowers whose rich colours filled her eyes with delight, flowers of the field above all, for her inborn love of subdued elegance and delicate beauty found its counterpart in the simple and too often unappreciated charms, the unobtrusive radiance and graceful formation of wild blossoms. In her innocent soul were springing up and blossoming forth, promiscuously perhaps, these thoughts so beauti- fully expressed by a recent poet in the lines which we give here in paraphrase: ‘ “Flowers of the meadows and woods, mountain blossoms and sweet water-flowers that are rocked to sleep by the song of the reeds. And you fair buds that bloom within orchard walls vieing with the butterflies in your tints of white and red. Flowers clothed in the purple of evening; golden and azure blossoms forming mystic 1 She liked the open-air exercise of the swing, but this taste seems to have been an exception. 58 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS censers, as you spread perfume from your white corollas. Gentle-faced flowers, and flowers with eyes of blue, heather blossoms which seem a bright reflection of the sunset on the steep hillside slopes. Primrose and lily, first-fruits of the spring, silver daisies that deck the fields with stars. Flower of the Gauls, vervain that gave to our ancestors the mystic portents of the future. The limpid stream waters you with its rippling wavelets—the virgin soil doth nourish your deep-set roots. For good and for bad, for all, you exhale your perfume, sweet sisters, God’s own flowers of the fields !’” Thus it was a red-letter day for Céline and Thérése when M. Martin brought them to the “ Pavillon.” It stood on the outskirts of the town, a small house, quaint with its rustic furniture, surrounded by a large garden where, during the summer months, strawberries, currants, geraniums, and beautiful deep-coloured roses abounded. Thérése returned home laden with enormous bouquets, formed not so much of the roses from the “ Pavillon ” as of daisies, buttercups, and wild poppies, gathered here and there along the paths. She seems to have under- stood, even at this early age, the symbolism of flowers offered in token of love. And so, in surrounding with wild flowers the statue of the Blessed Virgin, held in such honour in the home, or St Joseph’s image before which her mother was wont to kneel, she intends to signify the oblation of her soul and her life. At all events, she never prayed more fervently than in the oratory prepared for the “‘ month of Mary.” Her eldest sister assures us of this in convincing language. “It is quite a ceremony,” she writes to Pauline, “‘ this preparation for the ‘ month of Mary.” Mama is so very particular about it, more par- ticular than the Blessed Virgin herself. She wants haw- 1 Henry Thédenat, Quelques vers, p. 19: Paris, Jouve. 2 The statue thus honoured was that before which Mme Martin had already obtained an extraordinary favour, and which was afterwards to become lifelike and smile on Thérése. GROWING VIRTUE OF THERESE 59 thorn branches reaching to the ceiling, the walls decorated with evergreens, etc.... Thérése is in wonderment at it all. Every morning she goes bounding with glad- ness there to say her prayers. If you knew how frolicsome and ingenious she is. I have a wonderful admiration for this little ‘ bouquet.’ Everyone in the house showers affection on her.’’! Not alone had Thérése retained, under the action of divine grace, her childlike candour and grace of manner, but she was remarkable for the charming spontaneity of her language and the originality of her lively repartee, which showed itself from time to time in racy and piquant phrases. One morning Céline was tormenting her father to bring her and 'Thérése to the “‘ Pavillon,’’ as he had done the evening before. In a half-jesting, half- serious tone, M. Martin said: ‘‘ Are youjoking ? Doyou imagine that I can bring you there every day ?” Thérése was over in a corner amusing herself with a little wand and seemingly quite occupied with her toy. Suddenly she turned with a nonchalant air: ‘“‘ Oh, we need not flatter ourselves with the notion that papa will bring us there every day !”? Céline hung down her head, and ““ papa ”’ laughed heartily. This atmosphere of tender affection, where the child- hood of Thérése passed quietly amidst prayer, innocent amusement, and family love, contributed, as we know, to develop her spirituality; but although we have on her own testimony that she was not really spoiled by her parents, still self-love, which, as a consequence of original sin, has root in the souls of all, even the predestined, was sometimes to make itself felt in her virginal nature. Thérése recognized these attempts, weak and fleeting attempts, yet sufficiently distinct to leave an imprint 1 Unpublished letter. 2 Unpublished letter of Mme Martin to Pauline, October, 1876. 60 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS on her memory, which, in her humility, she has noted in the Histoire d'une Ame. About the age of three she had some fits of the wayward stubbornness so usual at that age. Her mother mentions this without extenuation, but without disquietude, recognizing in Thérése the good qualities which are its corrective. ‘‘ My little Céline,” she writes,‘‘ is altogether inclined to virtue; it is in every fibre of her being. Sheis the soul of candour and has an instinctive horror of evil. ‘* As to the ‘ little ferret,’ not much can yet be predicted about her; she is still so young, so heedless. She has a remarkable intellect and a heart of gold; she is very affectionate too, and absolutely frank. It is quaint to see her running after me to make her confession: ‘ Mama, I have pushed Céline once and I hit her once, but I will not do it again.’ And so for everything she does.’’! In spite of the precaution of the parents, who, while tenderly loving this child, never overlooked her slightest unruly caprice, Thérése appears in a few rare instances as aspoiledchild. But what touching regrets make amends for this momentary forgetfulness; with what promptitude the fault is atoned for! Let us hear her own words: “TI recall perfectly one day, when I was amusing myself on the swing, my father who was just passing by said to me: ‘ Come and kiss me, little queen.’ Contrary to my usual custom, I would not stir, but replied in a defiant tone: ‘ Come yourself, papa!’ He very rightly did not listen to me. Marie was present at the time. * Bold little one !’ she said to me, ‘ how naughty to answer papa in that manner.’ Immediately I got down from that ill-fated swing; the lesson had gone home. The whole house resounded with my cries of contrition; I climbed the stairs in all haste, not calling ‘ Mama’ now at each step; I thought only of finding papa and of being reconciled to him, which was speedily accomplished.’”? 1 Letter to Pauline, May 14, 1876. 2 Histoire d'une Ame, ch. i, p. 10. GROWING VIRTUE OF THERESE 61 The same, or an almost similar, scene was repeated be- tween Thérése and her mother. Mme Martin herself recounts it. “The other day I wished to embrace Thérész before going downstairs, but she appeared to be sound asleep. I would not risk awakening her, and was turning away when Marie said ‘ Mama, I am sure she is only pretending to be asleep.’ Hearing this, I bent down to kiss her; but she immediately hid herself under the coverlet, saying, with the air of a spoiled child, ‘I don’t want anyone to look at me.’ I was not in the least pleased, and took care to make her realize it. : “Two minutes afterwards I heard her crying, and soon, to my great surprise, found her at my side. She had got out unaided from the cot, had come down the stairs with bare feet, tripping over her nightdress, which was too long for her; her little face was wet with tears. ‘Mama,’ she said, throwing herself down at my knees, ‘I have been naughty; forgive me.’ Pardon was quickly granted. I took the little cherub in my arms, pressed her to my heart, and covered her with kisses.””! Would we not be tempted to say “‘ Happy fault which is atoned for by so touching a reparation ’’? The child adopted the practice, from her earliest years, _ of making known even involuntary little accidents of which she might have been the cause. Let us hear her mother speak on this subject: ** As soon as she has done the slightest thing out of the way everybody must know about it. Yesterday, having quite accidentally torn a little corner of the wall- paper, she got into a pitiable state. ‘Then papa must be told as soon as possible. When he came back, four hours afterwards, everyone had forgotten about it; but she ran to Marie and said, ‘Tell papa quickly that I have torn the paper.’ She stood there like a criminal awaiting sentence, but she has the idea in her little 1 Letter to Pauline, February 13, 1877. 62 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS head that pardon will come more easily if she accuses herself?”"? Not content with accusing herself, she makes an effort to repair the harm done, and this by means so quaint and simple as to draw an indulgent smile from her parents and redoubled tenderness from all. One day she broke a little vase which her mother had given her. Immediately, as was her custom, she came to show what she had done, and, seeing the look of dis- pleasure on her mother’s face, she commenced to cry. A moment afterwards she came to her and said: “* Do not be vexed, little mother; when I earn money of my own, I promise I will buy you another.” And Mme Martin adds in her letter to Pauline: ‘“‘ As you can see, I shall have to wait some time for it !’’? Notwithstanding these little clouds, everything con- tributed to the joy of Thérése. Her intelligence, her animation and charming grace of manner became every day more attractive. Her highly developed piety was, all unknown to herself, drawing wonder from those around her. But what solidity could be guaranteed to virtue, developing as hers now was, amid the smiles of her parents and sisters, scarcely interrupted by occasional gentle reprimands? Might not all her acts of devotion, now sustained by a mother’s watchful love, be checked by any discouragement? Divine Providence must guide the future. In order to increase and grow strong, Thérése’s infant piety required, like every other, the fortifying influence of trial. God, in His immutable design, early bestowed on her this chastening influence to such an extent that she could write later, she who, as a child, had been so fondled 1 Letter of Mme Martin to Pauline, May 21, 1876. * See unpublished letter of May 14, 1876: Archives of the Martin family. - GROWING VIRTUE OF THERESE 63 and caressed: “‘ The Cross has never, from my cradle, ceased to accompany me.” To the little attacks of illness and physical suffering, borne smilingly without a word of complaint, Thérése felt already the need of adding voluntary privations. Marie had brought from the Visitation Convent a special chaplet, used amongst the boarders to count their acts of virtue. Each bead was movable, and could be separated a space from the rest; every act of self-sacrifice was marked by moving on a bead. She gave Céline and Thérése each a chaplet. From this time onward Thérése was to be seen, almost all day, with the chaplet in her hand, moving forward a bead for every tiny sacrifice that she succeeded in accomplishing. The two little sisters encouraged each other un- ceasingly to renew these sacrifices. They called their acts of virtue “ practices,” so that in their conversation, and even at their games, there was continual question of “* practices.” One day, as they were having a very earnest discussion on this point in their garden of rue Saint Blaise, their mysterious conversation aroused the curiosity of a neigh- - bour who leaned out of the window in a vain attempt to understand their meaning. Finally she stole down quietly to the maid to ask her what were these “‘ practices ” which seemed so deeply to interest the children.’ This indiscreet step did not prevent either Céline or Thérése from reverting on every occasion to their favourite discussion. Of small importance, however, is more talk about these little privations, or even noting their number. The acquisition of solid durable virtue was the real end directing all. Soon it became evident that Thérése was not counting her chaplet in vain. ‘ How happy I was at this time!” she declared afterwards. ‘ Not only did I begin to enjoy life, but virtue had for me a real’charm. I had then, 1 Mme Martin alludes to this in one of her letters. 64 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS I think, the same dispositions as now; I exercised already great control over all my actions. Thus I had acquired — the habit of refraining from complaint when anything belonging to me was taken away; also when accused unjustly I preferred rather to remain silent than to offer excuse. In this there was no merit on my part; I simply acted naturally.” These ‘‘ natural’ actions were none the less con- sciously done for God, since, according to her mother, the child “‘ put her hand in her pocket a hundred times a day to move forward a bead on her chaplet every time she had practised a mortification.” But they were accomplished so easily and sweetly as to leave no doubt that the “‘ little sprite ”’ lived under the continual guidance of the Holy Spirit. Her love of wild flowers is already known. One Sunday, when she had spent the afternoon in the country gathering cornflowers, daisies, and buttercups in abun- dance, she returned home, glowing with delight, and set herself to arrange in clusters her wealth of blossoms. Her grandmother, Mme Martin, too old to realize certain delicate attractions of child-nature, claimed the flowers to decorate a little altar erected in the house. Poor Thérése felt the tears welling to her eyes, but controlled herself so well that only Céline, who knew her intimately, perceived her emotion; she gave away her dear flowers one by one to the very last.? In further ways, too, Thérése was to find that, in order to please fully her divine Lord, the mere adoption of a certain round of practices did not suffice; she must show herself ready toaccept gladly His good pleasure in allthings. A little incident which took place at this time is referred to later, as symbolizing the spontaneous and whole- 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. i, p. 16. * Cf. R. P. Carbonel, Histoire de Sainte Thérése de l’Enfant Jésus pour les enfants (Eng. trans., Little Thérése, Burns, Oates and Washbourne). GROWING VIRTUE OF THERESE Leog hearted acceptation of God’s will in all things. This early recognition of the importance of generosity with our Divine Lord grew afterwards to be the keynote of all her virtue. “One day,’’ she writes, ‘‘ Léonie, realizing, I suppose, that she was now too old to play with dolls, came to us (Céline and myself) with a basket full of dolls’ dresses, pretty bits of cloth, trimmings, etc. Placing her doll on the top of these, she said to us: ‘ Here, little sisters, choose for yourselves.’ Céline looked, and chose a ball of silk braid. After a moment’s consideration, I put forward my hand and said ‘I choose everything.’ And I carried off basket and doll without further ceremony. ““My whole life could be summed up in this little incident of my childhood. Later, when I realized what was meant by perfection, I understood that in order to become a saint, great sufferings must be endured, all thought of self must be put aside—in a word, the most perfect must be sought in all. I realized that there are in holiness many degrees, that each soul is free to corre- spond with the advances of Our Lord, to do little or great things for His love, to choose between the sacrifices that he asks. Then, as in my childhood days, I cried out :‘ My God, I choose all! I do not wish to be a saint by halves. _ I am not afraid to suffer for Your sake; only one thing do I fear—my own will. Take it from me, for I choose everything You will.’ ’” These generous t ndencies could only be in their commencement in the child of four years. But, to the grace of Christian education, and the influence of edifying example which had so largely developed Thérése’s piety, was now to be added the heavenly protection of her saintly aunt, recently taken from this world, and a share in the merit of severe physical suffering which for long months her mother was to endure. 1 Histotre d’une Ame, ch. i, p. 15. a 66 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS On February 24, 1877, Mme Martin received from one of the Visitation nuns at Le Mans the following lines: ‘‘ The life of our dear Sr Marie-Dosithée, that was so edifying, closed this morning by a death one might envy. She was quite conscious and preserved an admirable calmness to the end. One evening, almost the last before her death, she said to our mother: ‘O Mother, I have no other thoughts but of love, trust, and abandon- ment. Help me to thank God for it all.’ ‘* We can say that we have now another protectress in heaven, for it would be difficult to find a more saintly ending to a holier life.’’? Sustained in her great sorrow by this hope, Mme Martin induced her children,and more especially 'Thérése, to implore the protection of their aunt, now, she believed, among the blessed in heaven. Through the intercession of her dear sister, joined to that of the Holy Virgin Mary, she hoped for a miracle of which she personally stood in need. In her early years she had hurt herself so severely against the corner of a table as to cause a permanent swelling in her breast. This had not been very painful in the beginning, but developed in time into a fibrous tumour. Without a word of complaint, never inter- rupting her fatiguing work, or failing in a single duty to her family or her religion, Mme Martin had for sixteen years felt this malady doing its fatal work. The time came when intense pain made it no longer possible to hide her condition from her family. They immediately took her to a doctor in Alencgon, M. Prévost. For the sake of form he began to write a prescription. ‘‘ Of what use will it be ?” asked Mme Martin. ‘The doctor, looking at her, said in a low voice, “‘ It is useless; I give it to please patients.” In spite of this, M. Isidore Guérin recommended an * Cited by Mme Martin in an unpublished letter to her brother, February 26, 1877. GROWING VIRTUE OF THERESE 67 operation. For this end he took his sister to an experi- enced medical man in Lisieux, who declared that it was now too late. Given up by the doctors, having no other prospect than death in the midst of terrible suffering, this coura- geous Christian returned to Alencon, took up again her ordinary round of life, having no other thought but to persevere unfailingly and unostentatiously in duty, to the end. On her return home she wrote to her sister-in-law: “You are really causing yourself too much anxiety on my account; you put me toshame byit. I donot deserve that people should be so concerned about me; my life is not so precious.”’! She gave up, however, her lace industry, well knowing that she would never enjoy the leisure thus acquired. She resigned herself to the inevitable with barely ex- pressed regret. ‘“‘I have given up in good earnest my point d’Alengon and now begin to live on my income. All things considered, I believe it is time. My greatest | fear is that I shall not enjoy my retreat for long, although I can say that it has cost me dear.’’? The image of death had become familiarto her. She looked it unflinchingly in the face, although it seemed to her that she would still be of use in this world in order to finish the education of her children now that her sister was gone. Once more she began to cherish the hope that, by the all-powerful help of the Queen of heaven, and the intercession of her dear Visitandine, a pilgrimage to Lourdes would restore her to health. She wrote to her daughter Pauline: ‘‘ It was about ten or fifteen days after your aunt’s death that, rightly or wrongly, this con- fidence which I cannot explain entered my mind, and with it a great desire to live for another few years in order to bring up my children.’’? 1 Unpublished letter to her sister-in-law, January 28, 1877. 2 Ibid., May 10, 1877. 8 Unpublished letter, May 13, 1877. 68 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS A pilgrimage to Lourdes from the diocese of Angers was organized for June 18, 1877. Mme Martin, with her three daughters, Marie, Pauline, and Leonie, suc- ceeded in being enrolled amongst the pilgrims. “ The trouble and expense are considerable,’ she wrote; “but if I obtain the favour so greatly desired, I shall not be paying too dear for it. Moreover, it seems to me that the greater the sacrifices I shall make, the more disposed will the Blessed Virgin be to hear our prayer.’’? Her chief reason for taking the children was the hope which she placed in their fervent prayers, for with unparalleled faith they prepared to besiege the Im- maculate Mother by their supplications. The journey was more fatiguing than had been anti- cipated. Overwhelming heat, unsuitable food, and the difficulty of finding proper sleeping accommodation in Lourdes all contributed to weaken the invalid. The visits to the piscina were without success. On her return home she wrote to her relatives in Lisieux: “ I was immersed four times in the piscina, the last time two hours before we set out for home. I was in the icy water above my shoulders, but did not find it so cold as in the morning. I remained there over a quarter of an hour, hoping all the time that the Blessed Virgin would cure me. While actually in the water I felt no pain, but once out, the stinging recommenced as usual. “For your sake I would have been doubly happy to be cured. Alas! the Holy Virgin has said to us as to Berna- dette: ‘1 will make you happy, not in this world but in the next," ""* Strong in this hope, the courageous pilgrim set out on her homeward way, joining heartily in the hymns of the pilgrimage, while her daughters remained silent with grief and distress. But, on reaching Normandy, she * Unpublished letter to her sister-in-law, May 29, 1877. 2 Ibid,, June 24, 1877. GROWING VIRTUE OF THERESE 69 broke down, and was forced to admit that the journey had increased her malady. Her husband, with Céline and Thérése, was awaiting her at the station. He had passed an anxious week, hoping every day for the good news that never came. He was grief-stricken, and the little ones were astonished to find that the Blessed Virgin had not hearkened to their innocent prayers. M. Martin was, as his wife tells us, surprised to see her come back as happy as if she had obtained her desired favour. “That,” she added, ‘“‘reanimated his courage and restored the good spirits of all.’ This attitude of the sufferer was adopted out of pure charity towards her family. To her daughter Pauline, whose solid foundation in virtue was well known to her, and whom, on that account, she wished to train in un- wayering acceptance of trial, she confided her real thoughts. ‘‘ I wish to know,” she writes to her, ‘‘ what your present frame of mind is, whether you are still - wroth with the Blessed Virgin because she has not made _ you ‘leap for joy.’ Do not hope for much happiness on this earth; you would meet with too many disappoint- ' ments. For my part, I know by experience the fickle- ness of earthly joy ; if my hopes were not centred on heaven _ I should indeed be unhappy.’’? Nevertheless, in order to bring consolation to her loved ones and to sustain her own courage, the poor mother still continued to pray for a miracle. She greatly desired to see once more the dear family in Lisieux, always so affectionately helpful to her. She even planned to bring some of her daughters with her. ‘Telling her sister-in-law of the children’s longing to accompany her, she added: “The smallest is the most eager of them all. She will remember all her life that she was left behind at Alengon two years ago; when she refers to it, the tears come to her eyes immediately. She is a charming 1 Unpublished letter to Pauline, June 25, 1877. 2 Ibid, "0 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS little creature, my Thérése; I assure you that she will succeed.””4 The poor child who feared that she would not be taken to Lisieux did not foresee the cruel necessity which would soon constrain her to this journey. Mercilessly the dread malady progressed. June and July were months of intolerable suffering. No sleep or calm, not a moment’s respite for the poor invalid on her bed of pain, where she passed part of her days. She realized fully the gravity of her condition, and with that faith which had been the guiding light and the mainstay of her life, she prepared for the inevitable. ‘‘ I have made up my mind to it,” she writes, ‘‘ and am trying to prepare for death. I must not lose a moment of the short space which I have yet to live. These are days of salvation which will never return; I must, then, profit by them.’’? In order to secure in an especial manner the grace of final perseverance, and to give even to the end a living example of devotion to religious duty, she made a final painful effort to be present at Mass in the parish church on the first Friday of August. At each step she felt as if her neck were being pierced by a stiletto. Agonizing pains all down her right side obliged her several times to stand still. She persevered in spite of all. In this condition of suffering she assisted at her last Mass, and from the Sacrifice of Calvary renewed on the altar drew courage to face the final combat. The following weeks saw the gradual decline of the poor body sinking beneath the ravages of an implacable malady. It was not thought well that the two youngest children, Céline and Thérése, should witness these scenes of suffering; those two whom the devoted mother had, up to the last, tended with loving care. It was decided * Unpublished letter to her sister-in-law, July 8, 1877. 2 Ibid., July 15, 1877. GROWING VIRTUE OF THERESE ie that they be taken to a friend’s house each day. On this subject we will consult Thérése’s memoirs. “* Céline and I were like two poor little exiles. Every morning Mme X. came for us, and we spent the day at her house. Once, when we had not time to say our prayers before starting, Céline whispered to me on the way, ‘ Shall we tell that we have not said our prayers °’ “Oh, yes,’ I replied. Timidly she confided her trouble to this lady, who immediately replied: ‘ Well, my little ones, you shall say them.’ Then, leaving us in a large room, she went away. Céline looked at me stupefied; I was no less amazed, and exclaimed: ‘ Ah, that is no what mama would have done; she always helped us to say our prayers.’ “In spite of the distractions which they endeavoured to provide for us during the day, our thoughts were ever returning to our dear mother. I remember once when Céline was given a delicious apricot, her leaning towards me and saying, ‘ We wil! not eat it, we will give it to mama.’ Alas! our poor mama was now too ill to eat the fruits of this earth. She was never more to be satiated except by the glory of God in heaven, when she would drink with Jesus the mystic wine of which He spoke at His last supper, promising to share it with us in the kingdom of His Father.’’+ One last earthly joy was yet in store for this mother who was so anxious about the proper education of her children. Marie had continued to act as instructress to Céline and Thérése; and at the commencement of vacation, know- ing the encouragement that would result for her little pupils, and also in order to bring some consolation to her parents, she conceived the idea of imitating at home a school distribution of prizes. We have a description of the little scene in a letter to her aunt at Lisieux. “ I assure you it was quite a pretty sight. I had decorated my room with garlands of vinca, intermingled with 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. ii, p. 19. 72 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS bouquets of roses. Wreaths of flowers hung from the ceiling. The rostrum was covered with cloth, and two armchairs were in readiness for the presidents of ‘ the august ceremony,’ Monsieur and Madame Martin. — “ Yes, mama also took part in our distribution of prizes. Our two little girls were in white, and you should see with what a triumphant air they came up to receive their books and wreaths. Papa and mama gave out the prizes, and I, of course, called forward my pupils.’’* This was the last gleam of happiness before Death made a break in the family circle. Mme Martin went from the president’s chair to her bed of suffering. Eight days later she writes: ‘‘ My strength is at an end... . If the Holy Virgin does not cure me, then my term of life is over; God wills that I find my resting-place elsewhere than on this earth.’’? . This last message to her brother at Lisieux was dated August 16. On the 26th, Holy Viaticum was judged necessary. MM. Martin had the courage to go himself to the church, and to accompany to and from the house the Divine Saviour, who came to fortify the dying mother in her last journey. The holy Unction, with its saving effects of purification and renewal in grace, was administered to the departing soul. Thérése was present; she knew that a solemn separation was soon to take place, but she realized that by the mercy of the Almighty her heroic mother would not leave her for ever by returning to God. “The touching ceremony of Extreme Unction,” she writes, “has left a lasting impression on my mind. I see again the spot where they placed me on my knees, I hear once more the sobs of our poor father.’”? 1 Unpublished letter of August 9, 1877. * Unpublished letter to her brother, August 16, 1877. 3 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. ii, p. 20. GROWING VIRTUE OF THERESE 73 The soul thus prepared broke its bonds August 28, 1877, half an hour after midnight. She had passed here below forty-six years of toil and trial, which give every ground for hope that she enjoyed the eternal peace of heaven after her death. Before her mortal remains disappeared for ever from the eyes of Thérése, M. Martin took the little one in his arms. “Come,” he said, ‘‘ and kiss your dear mother for the last time.” And without uttering a word, the orphan touched with her lips the icy-cold forehead of the dead. This little child, hitherto so lively and laughter-loving, so full of the joy of living, seemed transformed and suddenly matured by the terrible vision of death. She shed no tear; she looked on and listened in silence, but understood everything. She had been left by herself for a moment, and, while alone, was confronted with the sight of the coffin lying in the corridor. She had never seen one before. Instead of fleeing at the sight, she contemplated the dismal object sadly for several moments, raising her head to examine its form more closely, and to familiarize herself with this narrow bed, the last resting- place of poor crumbling humanity. After the religious ceremonies in the Church of Notre- Dame the family returned home plunged in sorrow. “The whole five of us,” says Thérése, “ stood together in a group mutely gazing at one another in our grief. The maid seeing us thus was moved to compassion, and, turning to Céline and myself, she exclaimed: ‘ Poor little children, you have no longer a mother.’ Then Céline, throwing herself into Marie’s arms, cried: ‘ It is you who will be mama for us now.’ And I, accustomed as I was to follow Céline in everything, would also have imitated this action, so beautifully appropriate, but I thought that Pauline would perhaps feel sorrowful and forsaken, 1 Mme Martin’s daughters, now nuns, remember still the expression of unearthly serenity on her countenance. 74. ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS having no little daughter. I looked up at her tenderly, and leaning my little head on her heart, I said: ‘ As for me, Pauline will be my mama ’.’’+ The child of four and a half years was far from realizing to what an extent this chosen sister was to prove a mother to her, what a spiritual guide God was preparing for her in the person of Pauline. The two elder sisters made every effort to show their earnest acceptation of the delicate duty entrusted to them in order to lighten for the two little ones the cloud of sorrow that had come upon their home. The days following the burial were full of desolation and sadness. The grief-stricken family went out only to visit the cemetery. M. Martin was winding up his commercial affairs; his time was occupied by these and other cares of the same kind. What was to become of his orphan children, more especially the two youngest, now deprived of a mother’s guiding hand ? Friends at Alengon and elsewhere proffered advice, and offered their help regarding the education of the children. M. Martin thanked them, but could not reconcile his rigid principles with their suggestions. He remembered then that during her last agony, being no longer able to utter a word, his wife had turned to her sister-in-law with a long look of mute appeal, as though to confide to her the care of her children, and that Mme Guérin had promised to be a mother to them. He resolved to accept the kindly offer of his friends in Lisieux. The sacrifice was bitter; he had to bid adieu to all the old associations, to friends of his childhood, to his “* Pavillon,” to every cherished custom and time-honoured 1 'Thérése in thus acting was unknowingly directed by a prophetic action of her dying mother, who, seeing Pauline by the bedside, had taken her hand with respect and kissed it. She seemed, by this action, to entrust her with the office of mother, which she was to fulfil during her whole life. GROWING VIRTUE OF THERESE 75 habit. Above all, he had to leave his beloved graves. He did not hesitate, however, but asked his brother-in- law, M. Guérin, to look out for a house at Lisieux which would be large enough for him and his family. On September 10, following, a suitable residence was found. ‘The necessary preparations were quickly accom- plished. M. Martin remained behind at Alencon for a time, to settle some matters of business, but during the first fortnight of November he took his daughters to their new home selected by M. Guérin, which bore the pleasing name of ‘‘ Les Buissonnets.’’? 1M. Martin himself was buried at Lisieux in 1894, and M. Guérin, in order to re-unite all together in the one grave, had the remains of Mme Martin, of her little deceased children, and of the two grandparents, M. Guérin and Mme Martin, brought from Alengon to the cemetery of Lisieux. 2 'The house was then as we see it today: red brick, mouldings, cornices, and carved wood, as shown by a painting done at that time. ‘The only change made later was to clear a space to the right and provide an additional exit for the convenience of pilgrims. CHAPTER IV LISIEUX—LES BUISSONNETS ISIEUX, a group of picturesque steep-roofed houses, dominated by the bold spire and severe facade of a towering Gothic cathedral; a quiet retreat for the wood-carvers of Normandy, whose fine arabesques and fantastic monsters are displayed on the worm-eaten doors and window frames along the sides of the narrow streets; a melancholy little town in spite of its verdant surroundings and gaily-coloured flower gardens—such was to be henceforward the retreat of the Martin family after their great bereavement at Alengon. The children’s first impression on their arrival was one of sadness. Besides the fact that they carried everywhere with them the thought of their dear one departed, the smoke-blackened porches of Lisieux with their grimacing figures, the high factory chimneys covered with a pall of thick smoke, contrasted unfavourably to them with the pretty, attractive homes of Alencon. Little Thérése alone left the house in the rue Saint Blaise without regret, and she accuses herself of this later where she naively says “‘ Children love change.” Moreover, the welcoming smiles that awaited her at her uncle’s house kept her from remarking the rather depress- ing appearance of the old city. M. Guérin’s house, a high, solidly constructed build- ing of the old type, stood at the corner of the Grande-Rue and what is now called ‘Place Thiers.” With the master of the house we are already acquainted ; 76 LISIEUX—-LES BUISSONNETS sigh some further traits will help to complete the sketch previously outlined. M. Guérin, who at this time still conducted a flourish- ing pharmacy, was a man of medium height and dis- tinguished demeanour, a man whose keen look, decisive manner, and equally decisive speech, betokened unfailing honesty and uprightness. Imbued with the best tradi- tions of Christianity, endowed with an open and vigorous mind, he had early extended his studies beyond the circle of technical knowledge required for his profession, ; and had become so well versed in religious matters as to prove on occasion a formidable polemical opponent of the Church’s enemies. He had, moreover, a heart of un- changeable devotedness, as easily touched as it was con- stant in its friendship. With her tender, affectionate nature, her readiness to lend an ever helping hand, Mme Guérin was the un- obtrusive but warming ray of sunshine in this grave and somewhat austere household. A descendant of one of those thoroughly religious families, which had given priests and even martyrs‘ to the Church, Céline Fournet became, as we know, the intimate friend of her sister-in- law, and her promise to prove a mother to Mme Martin’s children had cheered the last moments of the dying woman. But she counted especially on the loving-kind- ness of her daughters Marie and Jeanne to bring a ray of joy to the hearts of her youngest nieces now so pitifully left orphans. The welcome given to the children was tender in its sincerity. Mme Guérin with her daughters stood at the door to receive the five exiles as they came accom- panied by their uncle to the house. Thérése must naturally have felt the least at home since it was her first 1 She was a relation of Thomas-Jean Monsaint, one time parish priest of Orbec-en-Auge, afterwards of Saint Roch, Paris, who was massacred at the Abbey on September 2, 1792. Cf. Joseph Grente, Les Martyrs de Septembre 1792 a& Paris. 78 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS time in Lisieux, but her aunt’s caresses soon brought a smile to the timid little face. After a quiet night’s rest the orphan children were taken to their new home. From the Pont L’Evéque road, on the east of Lisieux, we ascend by a rugged, winding path to a dwelling situated midway on the slopes of a hill. The town with its tiers of steep-roofed houses and its grey steeples spreads below. This is the house called Les Buisson- nets. A pleasant home, nestling amidst a wealth of foliage and commanding an extensive view of the varied landscape, it joined the advantages of comfort to its rural situation. In front spread a smiling little lawn studded with trees; at the back was a sufficiently large garden surrounded by an ivy-grown wall. No other sound broke the stillness save the clear notes of the nightingale from the lilac hedges or the shrill symphony of the crickets in the newly mown hay. The sight of this dwelling surrounded by the fresh foliage of fir and ash trees in sombre bloom was for Thérése a real joy. But even this could only lighten in small measure the abiding impressions of sorrow left by her great loss. ‘‘ Immediately after my mother’s death,” she writes, ‘“my happy disposition changed completely. I, who had been so lively, so expansive, became timid and shy and sensitive to excess; a look sufficed to make the tears flow; I dreaded notice; I could not bear the company of strangers, and only recovered my former cheerfulness in the bosom of my own family.’”! This trial continued for several years, becoming even more pronounced. It was alleviated for the moment by the tenderness of the Guérin family and the charm of that verdant home which was to be from henceforth the scene of the “‘ little Queen’s ”’ development. Meanwhile the house is yet without its master. But 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. ii, p. 22. LISIEUX—LES BUISSONNETS 79 M. Martin was already acquainted with this little nest, where he sought to shelter all that remained to him of his happiness; he had paid a visit there in September before completing arrangements with the owner. In a letter of November 16, his daughter Marie gives her first impressions: ‘‘ We are installed in Les Buissonnets. It is a delightful home with a smiling and cheerful aspect and its large garden where Thérése and Céline can enjoy their play. Only the staircase, and also the approach to the house, leave something to be desired.” His daughter omitted to mention that although pleasing in appearance it was nevertheless a very old building, badly proportioned in construction, with very low ceilings. She refrained above all from calling the attention of this fervent Catholic to the long distance which separated it from the church; but she noticed the narrow pathway leading to Les Buissonnets; this path which M. Martin called later ‘‘ the way to Paradise.”’ As to the rest, she promised him peace and happiness in this quiet home. ‘‘I feel assured, dear father,” she says, ‘“‘that you will be contented here. Yes, we will endeavour to be so good, and to make your life so pleasant, that you will be compensated for the great sacrifice you have made for our welfare.’ On November 30,M. Martinarrived at Les Buissonnets. Without further delay they organized their new home-life. A room on the ground floor opening on the garden at the rear of the house was given to Céline and Thérése. It was there that the “‘ little Queen ”’ was to offer so many innocent prayers to Jesus and his Blessed Mother.? But later on, when she was attacked by the severe illness of which we are soon to speak, her sister Marie brought her 1 Unpublished letter. 2 Tt is to this room that crowds of pilgrims come today, to see in a gallery fronted with glass—formerly Léonie’s tiny room— the little saint’s bed, the different objects that were formerly hers, and even the toys with which she amused herself. 80 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS to her own room situated on the left front of the house and bathed in the light that streamed in through two large windows. It was in this room, now transformed into an oratory, that Thérése was to contemplate the heavenly smile of the Virgin Mother of consolation. She was to share it with Céline after the departure of her two elder sisters for the Carmel. Céline, who now seemed possessed of her little sister’s lost vivacity, was sent with Léonie as day-boarder to the Benedictine Convent. Marie and Pauline, who remained at Les Buissonnets, looked after the home and took charge of Thérése’s education. The latter required to be urged forward with spirit, for although she had in earlier days learned her letters quickly, yet when the time came to form these into words, at about the age of three and a half years, she had returned to her games as if decided to end her learning at this point. From that time onward, it is true, she became more favourably disposed towards her books, but this entailed constant effort. On Pauline, for the most part, devolved the charge of the child’s formation, a duty which she performed with tact and devotedness. Having kissed the little innocent face upturned to her on awakening, she would make Thérése kneel by her side to say her prayers. The morning was then begun with a reading lesson. ‘The word “‘ cieux”’ was the first that Thérése could read unaided, and she ran joyously to announce this grand achievement to her father, who was in the room at the top of the house called the ‘* Belvedere,” which he had chosen for himself. To this room she came, in fact, every day after lessons to show him the marks obtained, and to enjoy his. affectionate recognition when it was a question of success. M. Martin, whom sorrow had rendered prematurely grey, had no longer any other thought but to sanctify his remaining years by prayer, by works of charity, and by the education of his children. Little Thérése was the LISIEUX—-LES BUISSONNETS 81 special object of his care. After daily Mass at the Cathedral, some time was given to working in the garden. Long hours were devoted to meditation and reading in the “Belvedere,” where he felt so close to heaven. Then each day he paid a second fervent visit to our Lord in the Tabernacle. Accompanied by Thérése, he would go to one or other of the churches where the Blessed Sacra- ment was reserved. It was thus the little one entered for the first time, while as yet her sisters did not even know of the existence of a Carmel at Lisieux, the chapel of that monastery where nine years later she was to take the veil. These afternoon outings were given to Thérése by way of reward. Her teacher was as firm as she was de- voted. She required a definite amount of study done. If application to work was remiss, the evening walk was irrevocably cancelled. Pauline never went back on a decision once given, and M. Martin, at whatever cost, always ratified her verdict. These prohibitions made Thérése appreciate all the more the long walks which were allowed her during the fine season. The child’s early preference for the simple flowers of 1 Pauline’s firmness was ever tempered by gentle affection, as can be seen from the following incident: One day Thérése returned hot and tired from a long walk and much talking. ‘‘O Pauline,” she cried, ‘‘if you only knew how thirsty Iam!’ Finding this a suitable opportunity ‘to drive home certain lessons, the elder sister suggested a sacrifice. ‘‘ Will you deprive yourself of a drink in order to save a sinner?” ‘“‘ Yes, Pauline,” said the little one with a deep sigh. Evidently the sacrifice was great. Seeing, however, that it had been accepted, Pauline, who suffered more than her little sister from the imposed mortification, decided to bring her a refreshing drink. But should Thérése accept this and abandon the sinner to perdition? Pauline hastened to reassure her by explaining that, after having had the merit of sacrifice, she was also to have that of obedience, thereby gaining a further chance of assisting some soul in distress. Cf. R. P. Carbonel, op. cit. 6 82 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS the hedgerows still continued. What joy it was to her to gambol through the thick copse amidst the woodland flowers and wild orchids. How triumphantly she re- turned in the evening, laden with bright-coloured bouquets and sweet-smelling garlands to decorate her little altar in the corner of the garden in honour of the God of Love. Sometimes Thérése went out with her father along the banks of the Touques, and, with her little line, made cunning attempts to imitate him in throwing the hook. It was easy to see, however, that her mind was otherwise occupied, and soon, leaving her line and hook, she would sit down amid the flower-strewn grass. ‘‘ There,” she writes, “‘I became immersed in deep thought, and without even knowing what meditation meant, my soul plunged into mental prayer. I listened’ to the distant sounds and the murmur of the wind. At times the music of a military band in the town reached me in faint and undecided notes, filling my heart with a sweet melancholy. Earth seemed to me a place of exile, and I dreamed of heaven.” We find expression of the same or even deeper impres- sions when, on one occasion, a sudden storm filled the skies with lightning flashes. ‘‘ I turned now to the left, now to the right,” declared the little one, ‘‘ in order to lose nothing of that brilliant spectacle. I saw a thunder- bolt fall into a neighbouring meadow, and far from being terrified, I was enchanted at the sight; it seemed to me that the good God was quite near.’”? Sometimes along the rugged paths leading to Les Buissonnets, as well as in the streets of the town, were to be met old men looking for alms. Thérése always went up to them smilingly and offered the money that her father had entrusted to her. One evening, meeting a man who was in a particularly miserable condition, she resolved to pray for him on the day of her first Holy 1 Histoire d'une Ame, ch. ii, p. 24. * Ibid., p. 25: LISIEUX—LES BUISSONNETS 83 Communion, for she had heard that God grants every favour demanded of Him on that day. But it was especially at her own home that the gentle child lavished her tokens of compassion on the poor who came every Monday to Les Buissonnets. At each sound of the bell 'Thérése went to open the garden gate. Then, quickly returning to her sister, she would say: “Pauline, it is a poor old crippled man. It is a poor woman with a family of little children; one of them is an infant in arms, and the mother looks pitifully pale. What shall we give them?’ And deep was the pity visible in her eyes. She ran immediately to the men- dicants with the bread or money that had been given her, At times she came back radiant with joy. ‘‘ Pauline, that poor person said to me, ‘God will bless you, my little one.’”’ The graces consequent on union with God were visibly increasing in this ingenuous child who sought our Divine Saviour with her whole soul. ‘“‘ As I grew up,” she declares, ‘I loved the good God more and more, and I frequently made Him the offering of my heart, using the words mama had taught me.’ I strove to please Jesus in all my actions, and I guarded with great care against ever offending Him.’’? She strove no less to make those around her avoid the smallest faults. The servant, by way of fun, one day let slip in her presence some little untruths. ‘‘ You know well, Victoire,’ she said, ‘‘ that this offends the good God.” In this child of five years certain remarkable traits wete already present, which some theologians have attributed to mystic intuition. All have especially remarked the impression which 1 These words ran as follows: ‘‘ My God, I give Thee my heart; may it please Thee to accept it, so that no creature can take possession of it but Thou alone, my good Jesus !”’ 2 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. ii, p. 26. 84 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS she received when returning in the evening with her father from M. Guérin’s house. ‘‘I well recall,’ she says, “that I watched the stars with inexpressible rapture. ... I noticed with especial delight one group of golden pearls (the belt of Orion) in the vast firmament, finding that they formed a ‘IT’, and I would say to my dear father as we walked along: ‘ See, papa, my name is written in heaven!’ Then, unwilling to look any longer on this miserable earth, I would ask him to lead me, and, heedless where I trod, would turn my little face upwards, never -tired of contemplating the starry skies.””* Childish perhaps this trait may be called, but place it side by side with the statement which 'Thérése was later to make: ‘“‘ The certitude of one day leaving this land of darkness far behind had been given me from my infancy. I did not merely believe this because of what I had heard from others, but I felt even then in my heart by intimate and certain inspiration, that another land, a more beautiful country, would one day be my lasting dwelling-place, just as the geniusof Christopher Columbus inspired him with a presentiment of the New World.’”? While waiting to call her into solitude to speak more intimately to her heart, God revealed himself to her in the mirror of sensible objects. In this way her walks through the sunlit countryside, which seemed to have no other purpose than to serve as a distraction for Thérése and to fill her soul with joy, had their invisible and sublime profit. On her return from her walk, the little one set herself to write out the exercises set by Pauline in the morning. She then passed the remainder of the day in frolicking around her father when she did not go with him to the “ Belvedere,” to contemplate once more the tranquil ex- panse of the blue firmament, where she could already read secrets so sublime. 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. ii, p. 30. S1bid., ch. ix pt 20. LISIEUX—-LES BUISSONNETS 8 5 The Christian formation of the child was continued in the evening when the family were gathered around a sparkling fire in the dining-room, where even today are the massive round table and austere-looking oak chairs which were silent witnesses of Thérése’s early years. After an animated game of draughts, Marie or Pauline would take the Liturgical Year of Dom Guéranger and read some pages relative to the ecclesiastical season or an approaching feast. ‘They then passed on to some other attractive and instructive reading, so that both soul and mind had each their special nourishment. Seated on her father’s knees, “‘ little Thérése °’ listened attentively but quietly to everything, and when the reading was finished, M. Martin, with his fine voice, would sing some melodious refrain as though to lull her to sleep. Then all went upstairs for night prayers, and Thérése, on her knees beside her father, ‘‘ had but to look at him to realize how the saints pray.” Once in bed, the little one invariably asked Pauline, as formerly she had asked her mother: ‘‘ Have I been good today? Is the good God pleased with me? Will the little angels come to hover round me?” The reply was always ‘“‘ Yes’; otherwise Thérése would have passed the night in tears. Evenings such as these presented scenes more angelic than earthly ; but sweeter still was the supernatural charm of Sundays and feast-days. Sunday, what a day of gladness for Thérése! It was not merely the day of rest, the weekly holiday. Rather was it the splendour of the ceremonies under the solemn arches of the cathedral whose clear-cut linés and sober decoration presented a chef d’awuvre of harmonious simplicity. Above all, it was the vision of Jesus in the Sacred Host. At the appointed hour, the whole family went to the High Mass and took their places in one of the chapels 86 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS at the Epistle side. This chapel being far from the pulpit, it was necessary to change their place during the sermon so as not to be deprived of the word of God. Each Sunday, then, might be seen a white-haired man holding by the hand a child of wondrously sweet coun- tenance coming down the nave in search of a favourable position, while her uncle, M. Guérin, seated in his church- warden’s pew, looked on, happy, as he said himself, to see his “‘ little ray of sunshine ”’ appear. Thérése listened attentively to the sermon, endeavour- ing to follow the preacher. A sermon on the Passion of our Lord was the first she understood, and she was vividly impressed. Her age was then five and a half years. From that time onward she was able to grasp and appreciate the meaning of all the instructions. The enchantment of sacred music and divine ceremony extended ordinarily to Compline. Asthe evening shadows spread through the old church, Thérése reflected sadly that this celestial dav was soon to end, and the morrow would bring its monotonous train of work once more. Then she dreamed of a never-ending Sunday, when the music of heaven’s choirs would continue without in- terruption. Everything seemed to raise her thoughts more and more above the things of earth, and by reason of a special grace, bring her into contact with supernatural reality. Sometimes, Sunday evening was spent with the Guérin family, where each of the five sisters was received in turn. When Thérése came Mme Guérin and the two cousins redoubled their attentions, making special efforts to give her pleasure, the more so because they feared that the little one would be made to feel ill at ease by her uncle’s serious conversation. But the precocious development of Thérése had not been taken into account. Not only was she not wearied, but she listened with unsuspected eagerness to the grave and instructive remarks of M. Guérin. Her joy was LISIEUX—LES BUISSONNETS 87 mingled with a slight feeling of fear, when, to amuse her, M. Guérin seated her on his knee and sang “‘ Barbe-Bleue”’ for her in a stentorian voice. Above even the happiness of Sunday the “ Little Queen ”’ loved the gladness of the principal feasts. She welcomed every succeeding holyday with redoubled fervour, for Pauline had taken care to explain to her the mystery commemorated on each festival. Especially when the time for Blessed Sacrament processions drew near did the soul of Thérése thrill with exultation. Other children, it is true, are delighted with the sight of splendid banners which reflect the azure sky, of white veils, of beautiful lace and golden copes, all ranged in splendour around the wayside altars on the Feast of Corpus Christi. But none of these imposing or beautiful objects could fully charm Thérése. Far higher went her admiration, her homage, and more especially her loving prayers. If she was happy in taking her place in the procession, among the little flower-girls carrying baskets laden with bright-tinted petals, her graceful costume or the kindness of her amiable companions counted for nothing in her joy. ‘“‘ What happiness,” she writes, ‘‘ to strew flowers in the path of the good God! But before letting them fall I threw them high in the air, and was never so happy as when I saw my rose petals touch the sacred Mon- strance.”’! In-her devotion to the Blessed Virgin she gives evidence of the same tender love. The little child of five was thought too young to assist every evening at the May devotions. Butthat makes no difference. She will have a chest of drawers in her elder sisters’ room converted into a Madonna altar, with its tiny flower vases and its illumination consisting of wax vestas to serve as candles. Victoire, the devoted servant, will alone form the congre- gation at these ceremonies, of which the principal exercise will be the recitation in common of the Memorare. 1 Histoire d’une Ame. ch. ii, p. 28, 88 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS Although the family scarcely held communication with anyone beyond its own circle, yet the virtues of little Thérése Martin began to attract attention. An old lady who had often met her at the church, and who had remarked the ecstatic expression of her coun- tenance in presence of the Blessed Sacrament during the processions, said to one of her neighbours: “‘ That little one is an angel. I shall be greatly surprised if she lives long; but if she lives, you will find that she will be spoken of later on as a saint.” A woman who came to work at Les Buissonnets one day insistently pleaded to be allowed to cut off a lock of the child’s hair, and carried it away as a treasure. Whenever she accompanied her sisters in their walks through the town the passers-by turned and gazed as if fascinated, not by her physical grace, though this too was striking, but by a supernatural charm which seemed to radiate from her. Withal, Thérése, who, more evidently from this time onward, lived in the continual presence of God, had nothing in common with those timorous devotees who, according to St ‘Teresa of Avila, ‘‘ do not dare to stir for fear their devotion should fly away.” She remained full of eagerness for games suited to her age, and the weekly holiday on Thursday was always heartily welcomed as permitting her to resume her old sports with Céline. ‘They gambolled around the flower- beds in the garden, they entered into competitions of skill in arranging bouquets, then Céline would start class with her dolls. Having but small attraction for dressing dolls, Thérése willingly entrusted hers to Céline, who, having ranged them in good order beside her own collection, gave her little regiment a course of morals or orthography. ‘Thérése greeted these tirades with peals of laughter; but she applauded still more when Céline, wishing to reward one of her speechless pupils, brought her to her sister, saying LISIEUX—LES BUISSONNETS 89 _ to the privileged one: ‘‘ My dear child, go and kiss your aunt.” It was but proper that in this predestined life the simple and artless amusements of infancy should play their part. While giving herself daily more and more to Jesus, this little saint of five years had her hours of exuberance, with all the freshness and charm of early childhood. Little Thérése had learned from Pauline that the sacraments are the principal channels whereby Jesus gives Himself to souls. She longed ardently to receive nourishment from the Divine Host which she had seen shining in the golden Monstrance. The practice then in vogue prevented her from approaching the Sacred Table for yet a long time; but knowing that the sacrament of Penance must be received in preparation for Holy Communion, she asked to be allowed at least to go to Confession as soon as possible. She was granted this privilege at the age of six. What was this child to tell the priest, this candid soul which had never from the age of three refused anything to Jesus ? In her examina- tion of conscience she had recourse to Pauline, who told her that she was about to speak to our Divine Saviour Himself in the person of the priest. So convinced was Thérése of this truth, that she asked whether she should not in consequence say to her confessor that ‘“‘ she loved him with all her heart.” The confessor before whom she presented herself was the Abbé Ducellier, then parish priest of Saint Pierre, who, at the time of his death in 1917, was arch-priest of the same parish. He was an ecclesiastic of grave de- meanour, little inclined to confidences. With all this he could not but be moved by the exceptional candour of this angelic soul. After having heard her confession, wherein he found great difficulty in discerning real faults, he exhorted her with fervent words to imitate the Queen go ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS of Virgins. Then, in conformity with the practice of the time, he gave her simply a blessing. Thérése was so small that she had to stand in the confessional. She succeeded, however, in passing her rosary through the grating to have it blessed, and came out radiant with happiness. It was dark outside, and Thérése stopped beneath a street lamp and examined curiously the rosary that had just been given back to her. ‘“‘ What are you looking at, Thérése ?”’ asked Pauline. ‘“‘ | want to see what a blessed rosary is like,” she said. From that time onward she sought more than ever to please Jesus, in order to prepare for him in her soul a choice dwelling for the day when it would please him to come there in his corporeal presence. She was seven years of age when the time came for Céline, then a day-boarder at the Benedictine Abbey, to prepare for her first Holy Communion. During the intervals of school-hours, Pauline undertook her remote preparation. ‘Thérése was admitted to the first instruc- tions, and she listened, eager to prepare her soul already for the great day which she had wished to bring nearer. She was told later that, on account of being too young, she must cease attending, and she remained away with a heavy heart, for it seemed to her that four years would ee too much to spend in preparation to receive her od. Obliged thus to fall back sometimes on her own thoughts, she restrained with difficulty her longing to receive the Holy of Holies. She conceived the idea of asking her sisters whether she could not join them secretly when they were to have the happiness of receiving Holy Communion. One Christmas Eve, before midnight Mass, she said to Marie: “‘ Oh, if you would only bring me with you tonight! ... This is what I would do, so that I, too, might receive the good Jesus. I would slip in amongst the others, quite near to you; I am so small that no one would notice me.’’ Her eyes shone LISIEUX—-LES BUISSONNETS gi with her desire, and she went away sadly when told that such a thing could not be thought of. The Guérin family liked spending a holiday at Trouville during the fine season. Thérése was nearly six when in August, 1878, she went to join them there, accompanied by her father and sisters. It was her first sight of the sea, and, susceptible as always to things sublime in which she discerned the image of God, she gazed enraptured, her eyes full of fervent and ingenuous admiration. Passers-by were not slow to notice this tall man with snow-white hair framing a face still young, holding by the hand a child whose sweet and clear countenance, long golden tresses and angelic smile, made one think of a seraphic vision. One day a lady accompanied by her husband could not refrain from saying in a low tone as they passed: “‘ What a pretty little girl!’ And she asked M. Martin if the child belonged to him.'' The father, though pleased, signed to these passers-by not to address compliments to his little daughter. But she had so well profited by Pauline’s teaching, which had long aimed at fortifying her against all vanity, that she paid no attention to the flattering remark. Having gone on the promenade des Planches one evening, accompanied by the other members of their party, this resort was abandoned, and she ventured to the isolated point of the Roches Noires which overhang the Fetée des Anglais. ‘There again she enjoyed moments of contemplation which made her realize still more the divine presence. The following gives her own account of the impression received at that time: 1 The same impression was produced at Lisieux. A lady, a friend of the family, said one day to Thérése’s sisters: ““ How do you account for that child’s angelic expression ? One sees other children with features as well formed, but she has heaven in her eyes.” 92 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS “‘ Just when the sun seemed to bathe itself in the vast expanse of waters, marking out before it a sparkling pathway, I sat beside Pauline on a lonely rock. I con- templated for a long time this golden pathway, which she had told me was an image of grace lighting the way for faithful souls here below. ‘Then I pictured to myself my own heart as a frail little barque with snowy white sail in the middle of this way, and I resolved never to wander away from Jesus’ sight.’’* Thus, then, at an age when ordinarily the first rays of reason struggle through the clouds of infancy, God was gradually taking possession of this little soul already in- undated at times with supernatural light. Assuredly it was the work of Divine Providence, who in His wisdom gives His gifts to whom He will; but much was also due to the Christian family who collaborated so actively in the divine work. We have dwelt on the part played by her mother in the formation of Thérése. Pauline, whom the little one had chosen as her “‘ new mother,” set herself especially to continue this labour of love. She took care, as we know, that this love should be without weakness. While refraining always from un- merited reproach, she never went back on a decision once given, and never passed over in silence the slightest imperfection in her little sister. She carried this firmness to the extent of making Thérése impervious to fear by sending her in the dusk to look for a forgotten object in some dark corner. But with these apparent severities, what devotion, what affection and common-sense she displayed; more especi- ally when there was question of instilling into the young mind some abstract truth. One day 'Thérése asked her why it was that God did not give equal glory in heaven to all His elect; she feared 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. ii, p. 35. LISIEUX—-LES BUISSONNETS 93 that the less favoured would not be truly happy. Pauline sent her for her father’s tumbler, and placing it beside Thérése’s tiny thimble, she filled both with water to the brim. She then asked the child which of the two appeared the fuller. ‘Thérése replied that they were both equally full, since neither could contain any more. “Thus,” said the ‘ little mother,’ “‘ will it be with the elect. Each will receive in accordance with his capacity, and having therefore no cause to envy the others will be in his own sphere perfectly happy.” Thérése grasped this truth immediately; the apt illustration had carried the lesson home. Though less manifest perhaps and less clear in detail, the father’s influence was, however, far reaching. This influence was primarily exercised by example. This fervent Christian had carried with him to Lisieux his cherished practices of Alengon, and Thérése, as she grew up, became each day more capable of appreciating their meaning and merit. During the first years M. Martin, rising early, went every morning in all weathers to six o’clock Mass, to which his daughters Marie and Pauline accompanied him. ‘They afterwards induced him to change the hour to seven o’clock. He did so with regret, for he loved to be there in company with the poor, who went to the earlier Mass, and whom he looked upon as God’s favourite children. Mass and thanksgiving ended, they returned to their rather distant home. ‘The father walked in silence and recollection. Marie asked him one day what occupied his thoughts so completely. “‘I continue,” he said, “to commune with our Lord.” It was natural that the charity of such a soul should extend, as formerly, beyond the family circle. Scarcely had he settled in Lisieux, when he persuaded M. Gueérin to establish, in co-operation with the clergy of St Pierre, a society for Nocturnal Adoration, and he became, as at Alencon, one of its most devoted members. 94 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS Little Thérése saw and understood everything. She kept these precious lessons in her heart, in order to make them her rule of life. Her father had, however, other and more personal influence on his daughter. Besides the country walks which provided numberless occasions for counsel and instruction, there were the little meetings in the ‘‘ Belvedere.” ‘Thérése often joined him there, and would it be rash to think that she owed, in part, to these intimate conversations her unflinching faith, and her maturely developed disregard for earthly things ? We can form our opinion from the following lines, the only fragment left to us of the reflections with which M. Martin loved to animate his fervour: ‘“‘ Men,” he writes, ‘‘ torment themselves with anxiety, and make as much effort to preserve their life on the eve of death as if they had yet many hundred years to live. They act similarly in regard to everything else in the world; there is nothing that they will not do in their endeavour to immortalize themselves. “* God, however, disregards their diligence. He knows the moment, decided by him from all eternity, when these: things shall be no more. “This divine decree does not exclude all solicitude, but only undue anxiety, and extraordinary and exaggerated precaution. Let us do what we are able and leave the rest to Providence. ‘The Abbé de Rancé was right. ‘In vain does the sea rage and foam in its wrath, in vain do the waves hurl themselves aloft and roar, in vain is the vessel tossed to and fro. If the breath of Divine Providence fills its sails it cannot be wrecked; nothing will prevent it from coming to port.””! Written perhaps near the large windows of his “‘ Belve- dere,” from whence could be seen every day the darkness strive for mastery against the dying light of evening, 1 The above unpublished fragment is unsigned, but there are grounds for attributing it to M. Martin: Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux. LISIEUX—-LES BUISSONNETS 95 spreading out before the eye illuminated by faith a type of universal decay, these lines express the serene faith and tranquil hope which were ever the foundations of Thérése’s piety. She learned, too, in these intimate conversations with her father, the lesson of tender love which was to be the guiding light in her relations with her divine Master. The following is an example of the ’ outpourings of love which M. Martin borrowed from the saintly Mere Barat, and which expressed his own feelings at the foot of his crucifix. ‘‘ My well-beloved Saviour, when I first bound myself to Thy service, I did not know the happiness that comes from belonging wholly to Thee; but today I know all that Thou art to me; and, with this experience, I wish to declare that before all earthly joys I prefer the honour and happiness of serving Thee.’” We see they were kindred souls, this fervent Christian and his little daughter who was already so decidedly drawn into the way of divine union. It happens occasionally, by the secret ordination of Providence, that new relations are established in mysteri- ous ways between two souls, sometimes by presentiments or visions of the future, which enlighten them in their mutual way of sanctity, but which often remain un- explained for long years. Little Thérése, at the age of six, was the recipient of a communication of this kind. Her father sometimes went on business to Alengon. One day when he had gone there, the child had a prophetic vision, which she relates as follows: ‘My father was away on a journey, and was not due to return for some time. It was about two or three in the afternoon; the sun was shining brilliantly, and all nature was in festal array. I was standing alone at a window which overlooked the garden, my mind occupied with joyous reflections, when I saw in front of the laundry 1 Private notes: Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux. 96 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS opposite to me a man dressed exactly like papa, equally tall, and with the same bearing, but very bent and aged. I use the word aged to describe his general appearance, for I did not see his features, as his head was covered with athick veil. He walked slowly with regular step past my little garden. Immediately a feeling of unearthly fear took possession of me, and I called out loudly with trembling voice: ‘Papa! Papa!’ But the mysterious personage did not seem to hear me; he continued his walk without even turning round, and went towards a clump of fir trees which divided the principal path in the garden. I expected to see him reappear on the other side of the trees, but the prophetic vision had vanished. “The whole thing had taken place in a moment, a moment so deeply graven in my memory that the im- pression is as vivid today after many years as was the vision itself. “‘ My sisters were together in a room adjoining. Hear- ing me call papa, both experienced a feeling of fear. Hiding her emotion, Marie ran to me. ‘Why do you call papa thus, my little one, when he is at Alencon?’ I related what I had just seen, and, to set my mind at rest, they said that very likely the maid wanted to startle me and had covered her head with her apron. “But Victoire, on being questioned, assured us that she had not left the kitchen. Besides, I could not banish the truth from my mind: I had seen a man, and that man resembled my father absolutely. Then we all went to look behind the clump of trees, and, finding nothing, they told me to think no more about it. “Think no more about it! Ah, that was beyond my power. Often and often did my imagination bring up before me the mysterious vision. Often I endeavoured to lift the veil which hid from me its meaning, and deep down in my heart I held the conviction that it would one day be fully revealed to me.””! 1 Histoire d'une Ame, ch, ii, p. 32. LISIEUX—-LES BUISSONNETS Q7 It was, in fact, destined to be revealed, and Thérése had little notion of the martyrdom she was then to endure. But the prophetic vision of her father “ bent and aged ” was from that time onward all the more painful to her, since, on her own avowal, she had not then the courage to dwell without terror on the thought that her “ dear king ” could die. ' To draw her more closely to Himself, the Well-Beloved continued to detach her by means of trials from the fascination of earthly joy, and even directed her on the way of severest sacrifice. j CHAPTER V THE BENEDICTINE CONVENT—STRANGE MALADY—FIRST COMMUNION—SUDDEN SPIRITUAL TRANSFORMATION r [ NHE years between 1877, the date of Mme Martin’s death, and Christmas, 1886, which marked a pro- found transformation in ‘Thérése’s character, marked, too, an epoch of trial scarcely interrupted by the joy of her first Communion and the tender affection of her family. These trials, as we have already mentioned in passing, form the strife through which God leads the souls of His predestined first away from sensible things, later from every other earthly attachment, on to intimate union with Himself. Céline has delineated in remarkably precise terms the condition of her little companion at that time, a state into which, by divine permission, she fell back even after the marked development which we have described. “'Thérése,”’ she declares, “‘ underwent (between these two dates) a period of darkness. ‘There seemed to be a veil thrown over those qualities that the Saviour had bestowed on her. . . . Inthe world she passed unnoticed. This impression of effacement was caused chiefly by her excessive timidity which made her hesitating in manner and paralysed every activity. She sometimes left herself open, it is true, to unfavourable interpretation by the fact that she hardly ever said anything in her own defence, always letting others speak. She suffered at this period from continual headaches, but her extreme sensibility 98 THE BENEDICTINE CONVENT 99 -and the delicacy of her feelings were to her the most fruitful source of pain—pain, however, which she bore uncomplainingly. “Tt is important to note that, even during these years, she was, in spite of her apparent weakness, truly strong. This remarkable strength was shown to me by the fact that her troubles never in the least degree turned her from the path of duty. For my part, I have never discovered in her during this period instability of character, never heard a sharp word, nor noticed a falling away from virtue. She practised mortification at every moment and in the smallest things. She seemed to me to lose no opportunity of offering sacrifices to God. “She regarded the trials of her youth as ‘the special providence of God, who wished to form her in humility. “I had all the more need of this austere formation,’ she writes, ‘ as I was not insensible to praise.’ “By reason of her extreme sensitiveness mentioned above, Thérése cried at the least thing that pained or distressed her, and when she had been consoled, she cried for having cried. She herself realized that this was great weakness, and she calls the sudden change which took place in her on Christmas night, 1886, ‘ her conversion.’ ””* This acute sensitiveness existed in the child, as we know, from the death of her mother. Her passing sorrows were, it is true, partly assuaged by the loving atmosphere of Les Buissonnets, where every little family feast-day gave Thérése occasion for joyous expansion. But she had reached an age when the formation received at home ought to be completed by a more systematic education, and, moreover, covering a wider field. Léonie was just about to leave the Benedictine Abbey where 1 Deposition for the Apostolic process, p. 126. The fact that Thérése called her former state “ feebleness ”? and the change wrought in her on December 25, 1886, “‘ conversion ”’ must be attributed to her humility, for Céline shows above that, even during this period, her virtue never failed. 100 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS Céline had been admitted with her, and M. Martin being satisfied with the intellectual and moral training given at this convent, decided that Thérése should replace Léonie there, and the two youngest sisters found themselves together as day-boarders. It was to be, then, for the family only an apparent separation. Nevertheless, the entrance of Thérése into this convent school, worthy of all esteem, marks a new phase of the long trial she had suffered since 1877. The Benedictine Abbey of Notre-Dame-du-Pré, of Saint Désir, is situated in a suburb of Lisieux at a con- siderable distance from Les Buissonnets. Founded in IOI1, it was for a long time devoted exclusively, as were the other convents of the same name, to the contemplative life; but in the seventeenth century its community began to give instruction to the young girls of the neighbourhood, and set up a boarding-school at the convent. Resuming its work after the interruption caused by the Revolution, the convent experienced during the nineteenth century periods of great prosperity. Its importance was, how- ever, diminished later on by the competition of new educational establishments. In October, 1881, when Thérése first went there, it counted about sixty pupils from the town of Lisieux and the best families of the neighbourhood. The instruction given there was solid and rather above the ordinary. Its system of education was simple and thoroughly religious, displaying even maternal kindness. For the rest, the nuns could not avoid bringing together the daughters of the farmer class and the children whom city life had rendered more refined, whence arose a certain amount. of friction to the annoyance of the latter. On the whole, a good spirit prevailed, piety was in honour, peace and joy were the general rule. ‘ 1 From a manuscript notice on the Abbey of Notre-Dame- u-Pré. THE BENEDICTINE CONVENT Io!I We already know the delight that Thérése took in the beauties of nature, and what a radiant picture Les Buissonnets presented to her when she came to Lisieux. Great was the change on her entrance to the boarding- school. High grey walls ranged around in geometrical precision, faultlessly neat but somewhat austere-looking classrooms, a chapel built in Louis-Philippe’s time, inadequately compensating for plainness by its com- modious arrangements, a spacious garden, but hemmed in from any outlook—such was the retreat offered to the child of eight and a half years, this child who so loved the sun and the flowers, who had revelled and grown strong in the open air of the country, who had been unceasingly surrounded with family affection. Happily, the wel- coming smile of her teachers brightened from the first the severe appearance of the school; more fortunately still, Thérése was to return every evening to Les Buis- sonnets. Her two cousins, Marie and Jeanne Guérin, also attended the convent school. It was arranged that Céline and Thérése should join them each morning at the pharmacy, and all four go together to the Abbey accompanied by a servant of M. Guérin’s. This servant, who later became a Benedictine,’ loved to recall after thirty years her relations with Thérése at this time. ‘‘ When the little one found herself alone with me on the way to the convent or in the house, she became affectionate and confiding, and freely told me her little secrets. These intimate conversations centred, quite naturally, on spiritual things. For her age she was exceptionally intelligent and reflective. I remember in particular how, even before her first Holy Communion, she explained to me as an excuse for some workmen whom she heard blaspheming, that we must not judge of the hidden things of souls, that these people had 1 She gave her evidence in the Process of Beatification under the name of Sr Joséphine de la Croix. 102 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS received much less grace than we, and that they were more unfortunate than blameworthy.’’* On account of her remarkable precociousness, the nuns had no hesitation in putting their new pupil immediately in a class composed of girls much older than herself, some of them even fourteen years of age. ‘Thérése’s success soon justified this measure. If certain classmates equalled or even surpassed her in arithmetic or orthography, she quickly succeeded, despite the difference of age, in placing herself amongst the first. She had a special attraction for Sacred and Church History. As for catechism, she grasped the doctrine with wonderful facility, but the literal recital of the text was at first a difficult effort. At the class for religious instruction she never failed to reply with perfect exactitude and precision to the questions of M. l’Abbé Domin, the chaplain of the con- vent. Her knowledge was so precise in the case of difficult questions that the good priest had named her “his little Doctor.” She seemed endowed with mar- vellous intuition, especially as regards heaven and every- thing that pertained to the life beyond. Nevertheless, it happened at rare intervals that she obtained even in religious doctrine something less than her usual success. The poor child was then inconsolable, for she could not bear to think that her father would have less cause for joy that evening when he examined her notes. Other incidents caused her painful surprise. There were in the Abbey, as in every other educational establish- ment, children of a naturally turbulent disposition, who profited by a momentary absence of supervision, especially in the corridors or on the staircases, to abandon them- selves to relaxation which was quickly repressed. 'Thérése, invariably adverse to anything which could displease God, could not understand this and would look on dumb- 1 Process of the Ordinary, p. 136. THE BENEDICTINE CONVENT 103 founded. Her silent disapproval, which was almost always taken note of, was the first penalty for these small acts of insubordination. But at that age censure, even if silent, is not willingly tolerated from a companion. Still less would they admit the intellectual superiority of a child several years their junior, and care was taken that the new-comer should be made aware of the fact. ‘There was one pupil in particular, aged fourteen,” relates Thérése, ‘‘ possessed of little intelligence, able, nevertheless, to pose before the others as better than she really was. Seeing me, so young, almost always first at composition and beloved by all the nuns, she became jealous and made me pay in many ways for my little successes. With my timid and delicate nature I knew not how to defend myself, and simply wept in silence.” A poor means of defence, truly, especially against the temptation so common to a number of children grouped together, to torment collectively the rival by whose superiority they are eclipsed. Thérése offered other vulnerable points to the taunts of certain companions. She seemed to have little relish for exuberant demonstrations and noisy recreation, and the others felt this keenly. Finding her joy in un- petalling roses and strewing the petals in front of the Blessed Virgin’s statue, or decorating with flowers the little altar before which she prayed, she was unskilful in handling a racquet or a croquet mallet, and more than one stupid or idle pupil took revenge for T hérése’s success in the classroom by triumphing over her awkwardness at the physical exercises in which they indulged. Hie , Another observed fact created unjust prejudice against her. Subject to frequent illness, she was obliged to remain at home on certain class-days, but even on these days she made every effort to complete the composition 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. iii, p. 37- 104 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS exercises that had been set. This led some of her com- panions to suspect that she remained at home purposely in order to have more leisure to study the matter set for competition.t From this state of affairs arose a mutual constraint, often obliging Thérése to spend her recreations apart from the animated and joyous groups around her, either alone with her catechism in an endeavour to memorize the literal words or in the company of some model children who understood her better than the others and felt drawn by her simple virtue. One of the older pupils, afterwards a Benedictine nun, has made known the object of this silent child’s constant preoccupation, even while only two paces away from a noisy and turbulent group of companions. ‘“ As I was president of a pious association,” says Sceur Marie du Saint Rosaire, ‘‘ Thérése came during recreation, accord- ing to the custom of the school, to ask advice. She was then about ten, and I was greatly surprised at her question. She asked me to explain to her the method of meditation. She also described to me then, as far as I can remember, how she herself made mental prayer on holidays. She hid behind her bed-curtain the better to recollect herself, “and there,’ she said, ‘I think.’ 'This word expresses clearly enough the state to which Thérése had arrived in her soul’s intercourse with God, and how little need she had therefore of the methods offered to beginners in the spiritual life.” She felt little need of a missal or other manual con- taining set prayers for the faithful. Her teachers re- marked that she hardly ever followed the method given in the prayer-book for assistance at the Holy Sacrifice. Sometimes they drew her attention to this fact by a word or look. She thanked them with a smile, but the next instant it could plainly be seen that her gaze, far ; Cf. manuscript notice on the Abbey of Notre-Dame-du- ré. THE BENEDICTINE CONVENT 105 from giving any indication of vague abstraction, fixed itself on heavenly reality. She prayed “‘ without noise of words.” The nuns realized in part the value of the treasure confided to their care, without however esteeming it at its true worth. Dispositions of soul which in the estima- . tion of those around her were faults, and which con- ' stituted in reality a trial from Providence, prevented them from discerning the degree of union with God to which this timid and reserved child whom they saw every day in their classrooms had attained. One of them has given the following picture of Thérése Martin. “A winning and delicate smile was her habitual expression of countenance, as soon as her tears, too ready and too frequent it must indeed be said, were dried. Sweet and gracious manners, tender piety, obedience in even the smallest things, a shrinking from turbulent and noisy associates or games, such were the character- istics of her school life. All this was, however, veiled by the excessive timidity and sensitiveness already noted.’’! As in the past, God vouchsafed to His well-beloved child some rays of joy in her night of trial. ‘The daily return to her father’s home, the re-union each evening of the “little Queen” and her “dear King,” as she called M. Martin, were to her a sweet alleviation of her daily troubles. There were also the holidays, and never did Thérése find them so joyful as when they were spent at Les Buissonnets with Céline. Sometimes, too, she passed a few hours with the Guérin family, enjoying very much the company of her little cousin Marie. They played at “ solitaries,” and became for the moment penitent anchorites dividing their time between con- templation and exercises of the active life. Sometimes, unfortunately, the hard facts of modern life intervened 1 Manuscript notice on the Abbey of Notre-Dame-du-Pré. 106 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS to remind the two hermits that they did not live in the desert. One evening as they were returning from the Abbey they wished to imitate the modesty of hermits. Thérése said to Marie, ‘‘ Lead me; I am going to close my eyes.” ‘TI want to close mine too,” said her cousin, and thus blindly they walked along on the footpath which was crowded with wares. Soon there was an unexpected collision as the two hermits tumbled over cases con- taining the early vegetables exposed for sale by some honest grocer. He was furious, and fumed and threatened as he gathered up his scattered products. The two blind solitaries promptly recovered their sight, in order to run away with all possible speed. Our little predestined soul could not but inspire the enemy of man with ferocious jealousy. God permitted that he should endeavour to cut off this life which was so pleasing in the sight of the Eternal Father. We know the place that Pauline held in the heart of Thérése, Pauline whom she called, and who with so much affection proved truly “her little mother.” Since she became exposed to the numberless small vexations of school-life, she appreciated more than ever the tenderness of this elder sister who had brought her up, instructed her, and unceasingly watched over her with loving care. One day, as Pauline and Mariewere talking together, she heard them speak of Pauline’s intention of very soon entering Carmel. What picture could Carmel present to the eyes of Therése ? Pauline described to her the life in the cloister, its austerity and renunciation, but also the infinite sweetness and intimacy established between the divine Master and chosen souls who have left all to follow Him. Thérése kept these thoughts in her heart, seeking from them a light for her future. Then, one evening, she discerned clearly, by sudden illumination, that Carmel THE BENEDICTINE CONVENT 107 ' was really the “distant desert”? of which she had so often dreamed, and in which the ineffable peace of companionship with God is to be found. She realized that there would be her refuge for ever, realized it with such force “ that from that day onward there was never the least doubt in her mind.”! Pauline, far from discouraging this hope, induced - Thérése to present her request to the Mother Prioress of the Convent of Lisieux. This good Mother listened to the “ great confidences’ of the child, and while not denying the existence of her vocation, told her that she did not receive postulants of nine years, and that she would have to wait until her sixteenth year before dreaming of admittance. Pauline, then, was going away, and for ever. The family re-union, grouping, each evening, the five daughters around their father, was to be dismembered. The separation was intensely painful, and harder still were the first visits, at the end of which Pauline, now become Sceur Agnés de Jésus, could give scarcely more than two or three minutes to her poor little sister. The child’s health, which had long been precarious, was not proof against this trial. The demon was going to profit by her weak condition to obtain from God a certain short-lived mastery over her body, to treat it with such cruelty as would even have shattered the delicate organs had God so permitted. Pauline entered Carmel in October, 1882. The months following were for Thérése a period of bitter sadness and physical suffering which tended to increase day by day. In March, 1883, M. Martin was in Paris, and, accom- pained by Marie and Léonie, he was introducing them to the wonderful ceremonies of Holy Week in the great churches of the capital, when he was suddenly called back to Lisieux. 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. iii, p. 42. 108 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS Thérése, who, with Céline, had been left in Mme Guérin’s charge, was suffering from a sharp and dis- quieting attack. After a conversation with her uncle, who was speaking about her departed mother, she had wept silently. Later in the evening she was seized, without any apparent cause, by fits of violent trembling. She was taken back to Les Buissonnets, and here her condition became decidedly critical. ‘Terrifying visions drew from her cries of distress which struck fear and compassion into those who stood around. Strange words which she seemed to articulate in spite of herself, then long hours of prostrate suffering, all seemed to denote the action of an evil spirit who had received external power over the little sick child. This impression was increased when, one day, she tried to climb over the bed-rail to throw herself to the ground. Her sisters had to prevent her by force. ‘“‘ One Sunday,” relates Léonie, “‘ 1 had remained alone to take care of her during High Mass. Seeing her very calm, I ventured to leave her for a few moments. On returning I found her stretched on the floor between the bed and the wall. She might have been killed or badly hurt, but, thanks to God, she had not even received a scratch.’’! Sometimes the most familiar objects assumed terrifying forms. Nails driven in the walls of her room suddenly appeared to her as huge fingers burnt black, and she cried out, “I am frightened! I am frightened!’ Her face, usually so calm and sweet, wore then an indescribable expression of terror. One evening her father came and sat close to her bed holding his hat in his hand. She looked at him at first without uttering a word, then suddenly her expression changed, and fixing her eyes on the hat with a look of horror, she cried out in a choking voice: ‘“ Oh, the big black beast !” ‘The poor father went away in tears. It happened sometimes that she did not even recognize 1 Deposition at the Process of the Ordinary, p. 130. - THE BENEDICTINE CONVENT 109g her own relatives; sometimes, too, she would hit her head violently against the sides of the bed. Dr. Notta, a conscientious practitioner, declared unhesitatingly on witnessing these strange happenings: “‘ Science is power- less in face of these phenomena; nothing can be done.”’! Thérése has written later that even during the most severe crisis she never lost the use of her reason, that - she heard and understood perfectly everything that took place around her; a further proof that while retaining the full use of her faculties she was under the action of a hidden power, whose author, realizing the obstacles that she would put to his influence in the future, made attempts on her life. The date fixed for Pauline’s reception of the habit was drawing near. It was not spoken of in Thérése’s pres- ence, lest regret at not being able to assist at this touching ceremony should aggravate her illness. But the little one declared that she would be able to accompany her sisters. She was in fact able, when the day came, to embrace her “‘ little mother,” sit on her lap, hide under her veil, and receive her caresses. Perhaps, too, she contemplated with feelings of envy the joy of this fiancée of Jesus. But her hours of rapture passed quickly away. Soon they had to get into the carriage and return to Les Buissonnets, and the following morning saw the poor child struck down by a fresh attack of even greater violence. Once more, they had to keep continual watch beside her. Marie, in particular, tended her with unwearied kindness, and the little invalid would hardly let her leave the room, except to go to church or to the Carmel. M. Martin, grieved at the failure of every remedy, but ever confiding in the power of the Queen of Heaven, requested a novena of Masses for the cure of his little daughter at the Church of Notre-Dame-des-Victoires, Paris. 1 Cf. Deposition of Sceur Marie du Sacré-Coeur (Marie) at the Process of the Ordinary. 110 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS Such supplication could not but touch the heart of the Immaculate Virgin. The scene which followed must be related by the inspired pen of her who contemplated “ the holy Virgin’s smile.” ‘Thérése writes: “On Sunday, during the novena, Marie went out into the garden, leaving me with Léonie who was reading near the window. After a few minutes I began to call in almost a whisper ‘ Marie, Marie.’ Léonie, accus- tomed to hear me continually calling in that way, paid no attention. I then cried out loudly, and Marie came back to me. I saw her perfectly as she came in, but for the first time failed to recognize her. I looked searchingly all round, gazed anxiously into the garden, and began again to call ‘Marie, Marie.’ It was un- utterable suffering, this inexplicable and constrained strife, and Marie suffered even more perhaps than her poor Thérése. At last, after vain efforts to make herself known to me, she turned to Léonie, whispered a word to her, and went out pale and trembling. ‘“‘ Dear Léonie quickly carried me near to the window; then I saw Marie in the garden again without recog- nizing her. She walked slowly, holding out her arms to me, smiling and calling me in her tenderest tone: ‘ Thérése, my little Thérése.’ This last attempt having also failed, my beloved sister, weeping, threw herself on her knees at the foot of my bed, and turning towards the Blessed Virgin she implored her with the fervour of a mother who begs with insistence for the life of her child. Léonie and Céline followed her example, and this was a cry of faith which forced the gates of heaven. “ Finding no help on earth and almost dead from grief, I also turned towards my heavenly Mother be- seeching her with all my heart to have pity on me. “* All at once the statue became animated. The Virgin Mary became so beautiful that I shall never find words to express that heavenly loveliness. Her countenance breathed sweetness, goodness, and ineffable tenderness ; THE BENEDICTINE CONVENT III but what penetrated to the depths of my soul was her ravishing smile. ‘Then all my pain vanished; two big tears gushed from my eyes and fell silently. “‘ Ah, those were tears of unalloyed celestial joy. The holy Virgin advanced towards me. She smiled on me .. . how happy I am, thought I. But I will tell no one, for _ then my happiness would vanish. Then I lowered my . eyes and without effort recognized my dear Marie. She was looking at me lovingly, and appeared deeply moved; she seemed to have guessed the great favour I had just received.’’ Seeing the child’s countenance transfigured before the statue, Marie had in truth conjectured that a miracle was taking place. She questioned Thérése, who con- firmed the reality of the glorious apparition, and then both realized that all trace of illness had disappeared. The joyous news must be made known at the Carmel. Marie told it immediately though discreetly, and Thérése herself some time afterwards. The latter had intended to confide the secret only to her “‘ dear little mother,” but the nuns having heard rumours of a miracle, questioned her in the parlour, and the little one’s very reserved account soon became a subject of conversation amongst the nuns at the risk of being modified or amplified. Thérése began to fear that she had given rise to these little inaccuracies by a clumsy account of the miracle, and her mind became tortured with anxieties, which were quieted only years afterwards before another statue of the Mother of mercy.? 1 Histoire dune Ame, ch. iii, p. 48. 2 'Thérése’s fears, which were sometimes so great as to obscure in her memory the reality of the heavenly vision, could only be the effect of divine permission with the object of keeping her humble. Besides, the account which she gave of her cure has been confirmed in every detail by that of her sister Marie. ‘The following is her deposition on this subject at the Process of the Ordinary: 11z ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS Be it as it may concerning this passing cloud, the demon was conquered. Once more the Immaculate had crushed him with her heel. By this terrible trial, borne with so much Christian fortitude, the child had progressed in union with God. Her first Communion was to strengthen still more her bond of union with the Well-Beloved. Before the great day, and, doubtless, to completely restore her health, M. Martin believed that he should accede to the wishes of some old acquaintances who offered Thérése a holiday in the country.. He took her to Alencon to these friends who received them in their respective chateaux of Saint-Denis, Grogny, and very probably Lanchal. The season was most favourable and the scenery enchanting. Everywhere the welcome was delightfully cordial. Féted continually, and petted even to emulation by all in these beautiful places, 'Thérése admits that she “'The most terrible crisis in Thérése’s illness was that which she has described in her Life. I believed that she was about to succumb. It was then that, with my sisters, I threw myself on my knees at the feet of the holy Virgin. Three times I repeated the same prayer. At the third repetition I saw Thérése gaze fixedly at the statue of the Blessed Virgin. Her countenance became radiant like one in ecstasy. She confided to me that she had seen the Blessed Virgin herself. This vision lasted four or five minutes, then she looked tenderly at me. From this time onward no trace of her malady was apparent. On the following day she resumed her ordinary mode of life.” Summarium of 1919, p. 416. The statue which became animated before Thérése is that mentioned earlier in the book, which had been for a long time previously in the possession of the Martin family. It is a copy of Bouchardon’s model, which had been executed in silver for the Church of Saint-Sulpice, Paris, and which disappeared during the Revolution. 'The venerated statue of the Blessed Virgin now stands over the Saint’s tomb in a side chapel of the Carmel of Lisieux called ‘the Chapel of the Shrine,” where rest her holy remains. THE BENEDICTINE CONVENT - 113 allowed herself to yield for the moment to the charm of attentions lavished on her with so much affection. But the temptation touched merely the surface of her soul already completely surrendered to the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Serious thoughts counteracted ‘ the bewitchment of trifles”’ so completely that the memory of this delightful holiday will inspire her later with no ’ other reflections than these: ‘‘ Alas! how well the world plans to combine the joys of earth with the service of God. How seldom it thinks of death.” The vanity of those things which had for the moment charmed her, inclined her more than ever, on her return to Lisieux, towards closer union with the Friend who remains when all the rest are gone. We know how she had for years longed to partake of the celestial banquet. When told that in the early Church fragments of the consecrated Host were given to quite little children, she exclaimed with astonishment: “ Why is it not so now ?” But the Diocesan laws had to be obeyed. By these regulations a child, in order to be admitted to her first Communion, must complete her eleventh year within the year of admission. ‘Thérése was born on January 2, 1873; she was, therefore, two days short of the required age when, in the Spring of 1883, came the usual time for first Communion. Seeing her companions preparing for the great event, the dear little one deplored these two unlucky days which kept her away from the holy table. Meanwhile, being one day in Lisieux with her sister Marie, she saw the Bishop of Bayeux, Mgr Hugonin, who was going towards the station accompanied by one of his Vicars-General. ‘‘ Oh, Marie,” she said eagerly, “ shall I run and ask his permission to make my first Communion this year?” Her elder sister had consider- able difficulty in preventing her from carrying out her purpose. Thérése, now definitely restored to health, had re- 8 114 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS turned to the Benedictine Abbey. Preparation had to be made for her first Communion, at all events for the following year, and therefore only a few months distant. Marie, who since Pauline’s departure supplemented the work of the nuns with Thérése, early undertook her remote preparation. ‘This was all the more easy as the little one, possessed of an ever increasing desire for the sacred nourishment, had moreover a marked taste for instruction in religious doctrine. Each evening, then, Thérése’s room, or the garden of Les Buissonnets, was the scene of a long and intimate colloquy where the elder sister instilled into her mind the inestimable value of the “‘ gift of God.” Behind the grilles of Carmel Pauline followed the supernatural work and took part in it by prayer. She did more. Recalling the chaplet of “ practices,” which had so happily contributed in former years to the sancti- fication of Céline and Thérése, she prepared a beautiful little notebook for the latter, advising her to write down day by day the number of her sacrifices and aspirations of love, which she exhorted her to multiply in order that she might belong entirely to the Well-Beloved whose advent was so near. At the end of three months the booklet noted 818 sacrifices and 2,774 acts of love. The angelic child wished to go further in her en- deavours to draw nearer to her Divine Master. Led by the Holy Spirit at an early age into intimate, easy, and almost spontaneous communication with God, she desired, during these last weeks of preparation, to consecrate regularly a half-hour each day to this familiar communion with Jesus. consider it prudent to agree. “‘ Then,” relates Marie, “she asked my permission for at least a quarter of an hour’s mental prayer every day. I did not grant this either. Seeing her so fervent, and that she comprehended in so She expressed the wish to her elder sister, who did not | Se ee ee THE BENEDICTINE CONVENT 115 exalted a manner the things of heaven, I thought it better to act with very great reserve on this point. “The dear little one submitted with her usual docility ; but innocently, and without suspecting that she was thus giving herself up to real contemplation, she used to hide herself in a corner of her room which could be easily . closed in by the bed-curtains, and there she would spend -a long time on the half-holidays ‘thinking about the good God, about the shortness of this life, and about eternity.’ ” The week for the final retreat came at last, and Thérése was invited to stay day and night at the Convent. She long retained happy memories of the supernatural tender- ness showered on her by the nuns during that period Each evening the first mistress, filled with holy admira- tion for the open-hearted child, came with her little lantern, gently drew back the bed-curtains, and respect- fully kissed her forehead. Seeing herself the object of so much care, the little one ventured one day to remark to her: ‘““O Madame, I love you so well that I am going to confide to you a great secret.” And she showed her the precious booklet, Pauline’s gift, where she noted down her offerings to the divine Master, and which she kept hidden under her pillow. The week was passed in religious exercises, in fervent and tender prayer, also classes in the study hall, where the solid instruction of Abbé Domin was recapitulated. “ At last,” writes Thérése, “‘ the happy day of all days dawned for me. What ineffable memories the least details of those celestial hours left in my soul. ‘The joyous awakening at break of day, the tender and respect- ful kisses of my mistresses and bigger companions, the dressing-room filled with snowy vesture in which each child was clothed in turn; above all, our entrance to the chapel to the strains of the matin-hymn: ‘ O sacred altar girt with angel-guard !’ “But I do not wish to, nor could I describe all... . 116 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS There are things which lose their perfume when exposed to the air; thoughts that cannot be translated into earthly language without losing their profound and heavenly meaning. ‘“* Ah, how sweet it was, this first kiss of Jesus to my soul! Yes, it was a kiss of love. I felt that I was loved, and I said in return: ‘I love Thee; I give myself to Thee for ever.’ Jesus did not ask for anything; He claimed no sacrifice. For a long time already had He and little Thérése regarded and understood one another... . On this day, our meeting could not be called by the simple name of regard but of Fusion. We were no longer two; Thérése had disappeared like the drop of water which is lost in the ocean’s depths; Jesus alone remained: He was Master and King. Had not Thérése asked Him to take away her liberty? Her liberty had caused her to fear; so weak and frail did she feel herself, that she longed to be eternally united to the Divine strength. . .t “So great was her joy and so profound that she could not restrain it. ‘Tears of happiness fell from her eyes, to the great astonishment of her companions, who said to one another afterwards: ‘ Why did she cry? Had she some scruple of conscience ? No, it was because she had not her mother near her, or her Carmelite sister whom she loves so much.’ But no one understood that this exiled heart, weak and mortal as it was, could not, without tears, contain all the joy that came to it from heaven.’’? This great love was to express itself in act. Thérése knew, that after the joys of Thabor, the Master would recall her to her daily task, and she determined to make 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch.iv, p.58. The concluding words of this paragraph explain what would at first sight be misleading as regards the meaning of ‘“‘fusion.” Thérése is evidently speaking of intimacy in its highest degree, which nevertheless leaves intact the duality existing between the weakness of the creature and the “‘ Divine strength.” 2 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. iv, p. 59. THE BENEDICTINE CONVENT 7 manifest by her actions that she had drawn strength from the Source of life. On the evening of the great day, she wrote in her little notebook the three following resolutions: (1) “I will never give way to discouragement.’ (2) ‘“‘I will say the Memorare every day.” (3) “‘ I will endeavour to humble my pride.” The second of these resolutions was connected with the _ Act of Consecration to the Blessed Virgin, which Thérése had recited that afternoon in the name ofall. The little one remembered the smiling vision of Mary, when so recently she had cured and delivered her, and so her whole soul entered into this offering of herself, which was at the same time a filial appeal for the constant protection of the Queen of Heaven. This day, opening with the Saviour’s kiss, was to be completed for Thérése by the sweet contemplation of the spiritual union which Jesus had deigned to establish, almost at the same hour, with her ‘“‘ little mother,” a union she continually dreamed of for herself. After the ceremony at the abbey, M. Martin took his little daughter to the Carmel to see her dear Pauline, that morning professed, ‘‘ wearing a white veil like her own, and crowned with roses.” No longer did the pangs of separation tear the heart of Thérése. Rather was it envy of Pauline’s lot and the cherished hope of soon sharing the same joy that made her heart expand. They returned finally to Les Buissonnets, where all were united in common gladness at the family repast. Afterwards M. Martin, in accordance with custom, made his “‘ little Queen ” a present of a pretty watch. The day had been so full of happiness, her intercourse with her Divine Lord so sweet, that gladly would Thérése have approached the Holy Table again on the following morning. She had, however, to wait eight days. On 1 Deposition of Saur Frangotse-Thérése (Léonie) religious of the Visitation, at the Process of the Ordinary, p. 132. 118 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS May 15, the feast of the Ascension, she was able to par- ticipate in the sacred banquet for the second time, accompanied by her father and her eldest sister. But, alas! the greater feast days, when alone it was possible at that time for her to communicate, were but few. She experienced then the hunger for this celestial food which was the lot of many pure souls before the happy inter- vention of Pius X. But she compensated for the rela- tively small number of communions by the fervour of her preparation. Marie clways helped her to prepare a worthy dwelling for the Holy of Holies. In one of these little talks before Communion, Marie spoke to her of the réle of suffering, adding that perhaps God would not lead her by that way. After Holy Communion the little one felt her heart inflamed with desire for the cross, with an inward con- viction that her desire would be granted. “‘ Then,’’ she declares, ‘‘ my soul was flooded with consolation such as I have never again known in my whole life.” The Most High had commenced to prepare his little victim. But Thérése felt at the same time that she would in- evitably fail under trial without the help of her divine Master. ‘Thus she disposed herself with unusual care and earnestness to receive the sacrament of Confirmation, whose dignity and fruit were apparent to her with a vividness unknown to most children. Hear Ceéline’s words on the subject: ‘‘She received the sacrament of Confirmation on June 14, 1884. The days immediately preceding are in particular deeply graven in my memory. Thérése, usually so calm, was no longer the same; a sort of enthusiasm and holy rapture were perceptible in her exterior. One day, during her preparatory retreat, I expressed my astonishment at seeing her thus. She explained to me what she understood regarding the power of this sacrament, of the Holy Spirit taking possession of her whole being. ‘There was in her words such con- 1 Histotre d’une Ame, ch. iv, p. 61. THE BENEDICTINE CONVENT 11g viction, in her countenance such ardour, that, penetrated by a sense of the supernatural, I came away profoundly moved. ‘This incident so struck me that I can see even now her actions, her attitude, the place where she stood, and the memory will never be effaced from my mind.”? After vacation, she resumed with more success than ever her religious and literary studies. A mere child in age, and also perhaps in sensitiveness, she was no longer such to anyone who observed the wonderfully developed maturity of her judgement. From henceforth, nothing childish entered into her intellectual development or the formation of her will. r Her very recreations had the stamp of gravity. For instance, she loved to give ‘“‘ honourable burial,’ as she said, under the large chestnut-trees of the Abbey to the little birds that had fallen accidentally from the nest. She took a delight, too, in telling stories, and told them so well that the older pupils readily formed a circle around her until the Sister in charge, who wished to see play rather than discussion, broke up the momentary group. With her affectionate and refined tenderness, Thérése naturally had friends. There were two whom she re- garded with special predilection among the souls that she loved for God. Of those two attachments one was no doubt so fleeting as to have left no definite trace in her life.. She has confided to us the course of the other. After an absence of some months, imposed by various circumstances on her little friend, Thérése received from her on her return merely a look of indifference, which revealed to her for the rest of her life the inconstancy of human friendship. ‘‘ But,” she says, “ the good God has given me so faithful a heart, that when it has once loved it loves always; so I continue to pray for that companion, and I love her still.””? 1 Deposition of Saeur Genevieve de la Sainte-Foie at the Process of the Ordinary, p. 123. 2 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. iv, p. 63 120 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS Rendered wise by this experience, she was on her guard against those attachments conceived by some of the pupils for one or other of the mistresses, attachments too often also passing and vain when founded on merely natural attraction. In recalling these memories later she wrote: “ How I thank God for having allowed me to find nothing but bitterness in earthly friendship. With a heart like mine I should have let myself be captured and my wings cut. How then could I fly away and be at rest !’”* Having kept her treasure of tenderness inviolate for Jesus, she renewed, in May, 1885, with her young com- panions, that solemn Communion which in the preceding year had brought her the most fervent emotion of her life. Alas! the Master refused her, this time, the joyous consciousness of this Presence. She had been tormented with scruples for several days, and this heavy trial was to last for many months. To afford her some necessary relaxation, her aunt, Mme Guérin, took her to Deauville with her own children on the day following the ceremony. The kindness of this second mother, the charming vivacity of her two daughters Marie and Jeanne, the sight of the great sea, calm as a beautiful lake or terrible in its sudden fury, helped the child to raise her soul to the Almighty whose majesty extends over the abysses. The family took a villa situated on the quay dela Touques, called then ‘‘ Chalet Colombe.” The church of Notre- Dame-des-Victoires was a long distance away. | They went, nevertheless, every evening to the devotions for the month of May. If the distance or some other motive sometimes caused hesitation, Thérése insisted in favour of the daily homage to the Mother of God, and never did the fatigue, however great, prevent her undertaking this long walk. It was also her happiness to assist, in spite 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. iv, p. 64. THE BENEDICTINE CONVENT 121 of storm and rain, at early Mass in the church consecrated to the holy Virgin. In September, Mme Guérin made a second visit to Trouville-Deauville, staying this time in a house in the rue Charlemagne. M. Martin having set out some weeks before on a long journey of which we shall speak later, she invited her nieces to join her. This second ’ visit to the Normandy coast was marked by two little incidents, which Thérése has noted in her autobiography. While providing abundant distractions for her little niece in order to make her holiday beneficial, Mme. Guérin took care to preserve her from all that could weaken her moral strength. One evening when the family were together in the little sitting-room, Marie Guérin, who was then about fourteen years of age, complained of a headache. Her mother, yielding to tenderness that made her over-anxious, began “‘ to fondle her, addressing her in the most affec- tionate terms without obtaining anything but tears.” For the moment, Thérése allowed herself to yield to the attraction of these tender words. She, too, has frequent headaches. She has never complained of them ; but is not the experiment worth trying? A few days afterwards, she retires into a corner of the sitting-room, sinks down on a chair and commences in her turn to cry. On being questioned she answered like Marie, “I have a headache.” What! No one bestirs herself to sympathize with her. Her aunt gravely reproves her as one grown up who wished to play the spoiled child. Even Jeanne, her cousin, corrects her in a slightly sarcastic tone, insinuating that Thérése does not wish to tell her aunt the true cause of her tears. ‘‘ Thérése,” she says, “is wanting in confidence and simplicity. She is, in all probability, tormented by some big scruple and does not 1 Cf. Deposition of Sceur Josephine de la Croix, a Benedictine nun, at the Process of the Ordinary, p. 141. 122 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS dare admit it.”! The lesson had gone home. “In fine,” declares the little one, ‘‘ I was paid back in my own coin, and I firmly resolved never again to imitate others, for I understood now the fable of ‘ The Ass and the Dog.’ I was the ass who, on seeing the lap-dog petted, placed his unwieldy hoof on the table to be kissed in turn. If I was not driven away with blows like the poor animal, I received, nevertheless, the price of my folly, and this price cured me for ever of the desire to attract attention.”’* Another day Mme Guérin, with her usual kindness, had given the little one some “ sky-blue ” ribbons to tie her beautiful golden hair. Thérese, for the moment, was highly pleased. But had she the right to pander to self-love by this vain finery? This problem placed her in a difficulty, and her extreme delicacy of conscience forced her to confess, even at Trouville, ‘‘ this childish pleasure which, to her, seemed a sin.’ ‘Thérese passed the remainder of the vacation at Les Buissonnets, where she had to suffer a privation which she had never known before and which she certainly must have felt very keenly: the prolonged absence of her father. At the earnest desire of a priest of Lisieux, the Abbé Marie, parish priest of Saint-Jacques, M. Martin was persuaded to go on a tour through Germany, Austria, Constantinople, and Italy. ‘This event, which was of some note in his peaceful life and indirectly in that of his family, calls for a few details. We possess a series of letters written by M. Martin to his daughters at different stages of the journey, which lasted six weeks. Munich with its museums, Vienna with its marvellous bridges ‘‘ unequalled in the traveller’s experience even in Paris,” Constantinople with the 1 Cf. “La Mission providentielle de la Bienhereuse Thérése del’Enfant Jésus,” an article published in La Croix of November, 1913, by M. l’Abbé Lepetit, professor of the Seminary of Caen, * Histoire d’une Ame, ch. iv, p. 67. 8 Ibid.) puibG: THE BENEDICTINE CONVENT 123 splendours of Santa Sophia and the dazzling panorama from the tower of Galata, presented to his eyes unsuspected wonders whose charm he describes to Marie, “ his Diamond,” to the “‘ good Léonie,” to “‘ the Intrepid ”’ Céline, to Thérése, the “‘ Queen of his heart,’ not for- getting Pauline, ‘“‘ the delicate Pearl” of Carmel.’ These beautiful sights did not, however, make him forget Les Buissonnets, and in reply to feast-day wishes which his daughters had sent for August 25, 1885, he wrote from Vienna: ‘‘ I seemed to see you all around me in the Belvedere, and to hear Thérése’s sweet and sympathetic voice murmur a little compliment to me. It so moved me that I wished to be back at Lisieux, to be there in good earnest to embrace you all.’”? The tour was completed in Italy. Naples, “that enchanting city’; Pompeii, with the poetry of its ruins; Rome, with the wonders of St Peter’s, which are in truth “the most magnificent in the world,” were successively the objects of M. Martin’s enthusiastic descriptions. Rome, above every other place, had for him the most compelling attraction. Near to the tomb of the Apostles, within a few paces of the Pontiff prisoner whose word and influence cease not to rule the world, he could scarcely contain his gladness. He wrote to Marie: ‘It is cer- tainly here that I experience the greatest joy. ‘Tell ‘ my Pearl ’ (Pauline) that my happiness is too great to last.’’* Is there a presentiment in these words? At all events, when in Milan on the eve of re-entering France, M. Martin experienced still more vividly the impression of the instability of human joy, and his tour ended with an aspiration towards the beauty of the eternal Fatherland, which cannot be dimmed by sad foreboding. ‘“ Every- thing I see is splendid,” he writes, “ but with earthly 1 Affectionate titles which M. Martin loved to give to his daughters. 2 Unpublished letter of August 30, 1885. 3 Unpublished letter of September 27, 1885. 124. ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS beauty; our heart is never satisfied as long as it sees not the Infinite Beauty. ... Welcome the intimate joy of family life! It is this which brings us nearest to the beauty above.’ When M. Martin returned to Lisieux, Thérése had already for some days attended the classes at the Abbey, which had re-opened in October. She returned alone this time, as Céline had finished her studies at the end of the preceding school-year. Her scruples, far from being calmed, had, alas, re- doubled. Moreover, the little one who worked with great diligence suffered so much from headaches, that her father felt obliged, after a few months, to interrupt her studies and withdraw her from the too sedentary life of the boarding-school. This was at the beginning of the year 1886. It was then decided that Thérése should be brought several times a week to a lady of good position, from whom she would receive excellent lessons, and combine the double advantage of instruction on the one hand, and on the other, of bringing her into contact with the world for the first time. There, then, we find the little one seated before a desk “‘in an antiquely furnished room, surrounded by lesson- and copy-books where numbers of well-meaning ladies came daily in search of distraction. One would go into ecstasy about the new pupil’s beautiful hair; another would ask in a whisper who was this pretty little girl. ‘Thérése was, to all outward appearance, studying, but she heard and understood all, and she was not slow to conclude that, in order not to make shipwreck of her humility, she had need of special assistance from the Queen of heaven. There was an Association of the Children of Mary at the Abbey of Notre-Dame-du-Pré. She will ask to be affiliated to this band of young girls specially devoted 1 Unpublished letter of October 6, 1885. THE BENEDICTINE CONVENT 125 - to the imitation of the divine Mother, and in order to be admitted she will accept a new term of probation among the older pupils of the convent. As one of the conditions, she had to assist, two or three times a week, at a lesson in manual work given at the Abbey. For the rest, Mother Saint-Placide, directress of the boarding-school, had said to the members of the ’ Sodality on receiving her request for admission: ‘‘ We - shall never have to regret her name on our list.” Thérése came, then, without enthusiasm it is true, and even with a certain amount of weariness, ‘‘ for she had not, like the others, a favourite amongst the mis- tresses.’ She worked in silence until the end of the work lesson, “‘and then, no one noticing me,” she writes, ““I went up to the tribune of the chapel until my father came for me.’”* Thérése deceived herself in imagining that no one thought about her. Among her companions, one of the senior girls who was afterwards to become a Benedictine under the name of Sceur St Jean l’Evangéliste, observed her during her silent work, and such was her admiration for the gentleness and continual recollection of the aspirant, that she watched, on coming out of the room, for an occasion of talking with her. But Thérése would disappear too quickly; she was before the Tabernacle in converse with Jesus, and usually remained there for more than an hour.? She became a Child of Mary officially on May 31, 1887. This was the last notable favour that she owed to the solicitude of the Benedictine nuns. She retained all her life a feeling of deep gratitude for the solid Christian 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. iv, p. 68. 2 Cf. Deposition of Sceur Saint-Fean l’ Evangeliste at the Process of the Ordinary, p. 154. It was this older companion who, once wishing to tease Thérése by pretending to suspect her sincerity, drew this reply from the grieved and astonished little one: “‘ Marie, I never tell a lie.” 9 126 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS education received at their convent and signified this to them at every opportunity.’ Thérése had nearly attained her fourteenth year, when in October, 1886, her sister Marie, who had become her principal confidante, believed her now sufficiently courageous to bear a new separation. She did not fear, then, to carry out a project formed some months pre- viously of joining Pauline at the Carmel. Thérése who herself aspired to the same destiny certainly could not blame her. But while awaiting the time to imitate her sisters in their supreme sacrifice, what was to become of her? Who would now guide her in her troubles of conscience ? She commenced by shedding tears. Then, seeing herself deprived of all human support, she thought of appealing for help to the four little angels who, born before her, had passed so soon from her mother’s arms and gone before her into the arms of God. In the name of the affection that they would have shown her here below had they lived, and which their entrance to heaven could not have extinguished, she conjured them to obtain peace of mind for her, thus proving that “‘ up there they still know how to love.” The answerfof these little brothers and sisters to the prayer of Thérése was not slow in coming. A delicious peace filled her soul hitherto so tormented. She was loved in heaven; her scruples had ceased. It now remained to conquer that excessive sensitiveness which, even yet, often betrayed itself by floods of tears. This little miracle—for it needed a miracle—was worked by the Babe of Bethlehem on Christmas night, 1886. ‘On that holy night,’ Thérése declares, ‘“‘ Jesus, the sweet Infant of an hour, changed the night of my soul into 1 We shall give later the letter which she wrote soon after entering the Carmel to Mother Sainte-Placide, her old Directress at the convent. See Appendix. THE BENEDICTINE CONVENT 127 floods of light. In making Himself weak and little for my sake, He made me strongand courageous. He clothed me with His armour, and since then I go from victory to victory, advancing, as it were, with giant strides. The fountain of my tears was dried up, not to be reopened, save rarely and with difficulty.” She afterwards describes the occasion and the precise - moment when this precious and unexpected grace was accorded to her. “On arriving at Les Buissonnets after midnight Mass, I knew I should find my shoes on the hearthstone filled with gifts, as in my infant days—which proves that lI had been, till now, treated like a little baby. Papa him- self loved to see my happiness, to hear my cries of delight as I drew out each new surprise from the enchanted shoes, and his gaiety further increased my pleasure. But the hour was come when Jesus willed to free me from the failings of childhood and also to withdraw from me its harmless joys. He permitted that my dear father, contrary to his usual habit of indulging me in everything, should this time feel annoyed. Going up the stairs to my room I heard him say these words, which pierced me to the heart: ‘ For a big girl like Thérése, this is too childish; I hope this will be the last time.’ “Céline, knowing my extreme sensitiveness, said to me in a low tone: ‘ Do not go down immediately; wait a little while; you would surely cry when looking at the presents before papa.’ But Thérése was no longer the same; Jesus had changed her heart. “ Driving back my tears, I went down quickly to the dining-room, then, endeavouring to quell my beating heart, I took the shoes and drew out joyously all the gifts, looking as happy as a queen. Papa laughed; no trace of displeasure appeared on his countenance; Céline thought she was in a dream. Happily it was a sweet reality; little Thérése had regained for ever her strength of soul lost at the age of four and a half years.” 128 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS “In that luminous night began the third period of my life, the most beautiful of all and the most full of graces from heaven. In an instant Jesus, pleased with my good will, accomplished the work that I had failed to do in many years.’ The trial ordained by Providence was at an end. The child who had borne it with undiminished virtue was to become one of the most valiant souls to be found in the “ Lives of the Saints.” Henceforth she could aspire to giving herself wholly to God in the religious life. Her childhood, too, was ended. In spite of the clouds of sadness which from time to time had bedimmed her skies, she never disclaimed, even when wearing the Car- melite veil, those youthful years when her soul opened in joyous candour to earthly beauty, the figure and symbol of Heavenly splendour. She never in her after life wrote anything more charming than the following lines in imitation of a well-known poem of Chateaubriand: “Oh, well-beloved memory, The joyous days of infancy ! To guard my innocence inviolably, Our Lord enclosed me from above With love. ** T loved the plain, the hillside green, The waving wheatfield’s golden sheen; Breathless my joy with sisters mine to glean Through the long summer hours Sweet flowers. “* T loved the little daisy white, The Sunday walk of pure delight; Birds warbling ’mid the boughs in sight, The radiant azure as it dyes The skies. ‘** Oh, memories, ye breathe repose, Full many a picture ye disclose, ‘The evening meal, the perfume of the rose, The summer-day at Buissonnets So gay.’ 1 Histoire d'une Ame, ch. v, p. 75. 2 Cf. Histoire d'une Ame, Poem: ‘‘ What I have Loved.” THE BENEDICTINE CONVENT 129 When Thérése bade this sweet and melancholy adieu to the ever dear past, she had had, for many years before, no other horizon except the grey walls of the cloister; but then had commenced that period rich in grace which she proclaims, in spite of all, the most beautiful of her life. It is now time to show how she endeavoured with a maturity beyond her years to leave behind the charm .of earthly beauty, and to follow in the odour of His perfumes the Well-Beloved who was calling her to the desert. CHAPTER VI VOCATION TO CARMEL—-STRUGGLE AGAINST EXTERIOR OBSTACLES WHICH RESTRAINED HER—JOURNEY TO ITALY } \HERESE herself unfolds with heartfelt gratitude the effects of that singular grace, which, according to her own admission, had transformed her on Christmas night, 1886. She summed them up in these words: ‘‘ Charity entered my heart with the need of entire forgetfulness of self; from that time forth I was happy.’”* Charity certainly dwelt in this virginal soul from the moment of baptism. But the gift of self to the Saviour even to the desire “‘ of entire self-forgetfulness ”’ is an act so perfect and rare that the child could not but have noted the precise moment when this grace, one of the greatest gifts of the Divine Master, was given to her. She was to appreciate all the more dearly this sacred hour because it brought her the “ perfect joy ” extolled by the seraphic beggar of Assisi as the reward of supreme self-abnegation. Here, then, is this child of fourteen years determined to serve her Creator even to the extent of forgetting self always, to become a choice stone in the mystic city built, according to St Augustine, by those who know how to love God even to the extent of utter contempt for self. Moreover, 'Thérése felt, ever more insistently, that the Crucified demanded this total surrender of herself without reserve, the only return which corresponds to the bloody sacrifice of Calvary. 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. v, p. 75. 130 VOCATION TO CARMEL 131 “One Sunday,” she relates, “in closing my book at the end of Mass, a picture representing Our Saviour on the cross slipped out a little from the pages, showing me one of the Divine Hands pierced and bleeding. I experienced then a new and inexpressible feeling. My heart was rent with grief at the sight of this precious Blood falling to the earth with no one eager to gather it _ as it fell, and I resolved that in spirit I would stand - continually at the foot of the cross to receive the Divine dew of salvation and to pour it out on souls. “From that day the cry of the dying Jesus, ‘ I thirst,’ resounded in my soul at every instant, inflaming it with an unknown and intense ardour. I longed to give my Saviour to drink; I felt myself devoured with the thirst for souls, and I desired at all costs to snatch sinners from eternal flames.’ Without doubt, she foresaw as one of the surest means of rescue for these unhappy ones the immolation of self, which her sisters were already practising behind the grilles of Carmel, and of which her dear Pauline had made known to her the powerful influence. But had not the Prioress declared that at her age it was not yet time to think of entering a convent ? While waiting in order to answer the pressing appeal of the Master, she must in every way and by every means devote herself to her neighbour, thereby gaining him to God. This neighbour was to be found in the first instance in the family circle. Having left school, and secretly aspiring to the life of Carmel, Thérése had at present the duty of sacrificing herself joyously in the interests of those around her. “ At this period,” her sister Léonie declares, ‘‘ 'Thérése, being constantly at home, was in truth the joy of the family. The very servants had a great love for her; everything about her breathed of peace, goodness, and 1 Histoire dune Ame, ch. v, p. 75. 132 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS consideration for all. She always forgot self in order to bring pleasure to others. Her evenness of temper was so simple and seemed so natural that no one would believe her perpetual renunciation cost her anything.”’* In speaking of this period of her life, she was to write later to one of her sisters: ‘‘ I had great compassion for those in service. In noticing the difference between masters and servants, I said to myself: ‘ How well this proves that there must be a heaven where each will be placed according to his interior merit. How well then will the poor and lowly be recompensed for the humilia- tions which they have endured in this life.’ ” After her own family came the poor. When each Monday they rang at the garden gate, they assuredly appreciated the piece of white bread which Thérése handed to them; but how much more did they love the smile of the little one and the care she took to protect them from barking Tom, the faithful watch-dog who made himself an object of terror to beggars. In the town, where she now accompanied her father more frequently than before, an appeal was made almost at every street- corner to M. Martin’s purse to help some poor wretched person crouching under the shelter of a sculptured gable. To relief of the body she joined charity for souls, Mme Guérin’s maid, who later became a Benedictine. has noted some manifestations of this distinctive love of her neighbour which gave evidence, even then, of Thérése’s vocation to the life of Carmel. “When she was scarcely fourteen years of age she visited poor little girls and taught them their catechism. I went with her several times to these families. I was then witness of her joy and of the gratitude shown her by the children.’”? 1 Deposition of Seeur Frangoise-Thérése of the Visitation, at the Apostolic Process. * Deposition of Seur Joséphine-de-la-Croix, O.S.B., at the Apostolic Process, p. 140. VOCATION TO CARMEL 133 Thérése herself has spoken in charming words of her friendly relations with two of these children: ‘‘ During the illness of the mother of a family,” she writes, “ I looked after her two children, the elder of whom was only six years old. It was a real pleasure to see with what simplicity they believed all I said to them. Holy Baptism must, indeed, plant the theological virtues deep in souls, since from very infancy the hope of future good suffices to make sacrifice acceptable. When I wished to see my two little ones very amiable to one another, instead of promising them toys or sweets, I would speak to them of the eternal recompense which the Little Jesus would give to good children. The elder child, whose reason had commenced to develop, would turn to me with an ex- pression of animated joy, asking me many charming questions about Jesus and His beautiful heaven. She afterwards promised me with fervour that she would always give way to her sister, adding that she would never forget the lessons of the ‘ grand lady,’ as she called me.””* Mme Guérin’s servant received from her in turn delicate and affectionate spiritual help of a different nature. The little one repeatedly spoke to her of the goodness of God to those who love Him, and of the consequent love that we should have for Him. The poor girl was then drawn to reveal an interior trouble of soul to Thérése. ‘“‘ As I did not at all feel this love,” she writes, ‘“‘ I mentioned the fact to her, saying that I had not this love for God by any means. She explained to me that love does not consist in sentiment, but in the practice of virtue.” Thérése could not speak thus openly to everyone whom she wished to instruct and sanctify. There were the obstinately impenitent, the hardened sinners who held aloof from her sweet voice as well as from every Christian influence. For these she had but one resource, un- 1 Histotre d’une Ame, ch. v, p. 87. 134 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS ceasing prayer, and, if need be, unwavering suffering. She preluded then her heroic act of charity, which, on her deathbed would be the résumé, as it were, of her life’s aspirations. ‘‘I beseech the good God that all the prayers which are offered for me serve not to allay my sufferings, but may be entirely for sinners.”* k No degree of perversity or obduracy could restrain the ardour of her charity. This was made evident when, in 1887, the newspapers recorded the fate of a great criminal who, after having astonished his judges by his cynical attitude, grieved by his impiety the chaplain who was charged with preparing him for execution. M Martin did not allow his daughters to read the newspapers, not even La Croix, to which he was a sub- scriber, but the topics of the day were discussed in the family circle. In the latter part of June, 1887, everybody was speaking about the hateful circumstances accompanying the murder of two women and a girl in the rue Montaigu, Paris, by a man named Pranzini. Since then, the assassin had given no sign of repentance, and it was soon known that, even on the near approach of the supreme punishment, he refused all help from religion. The thought of eternal punishment in store for the miserable man after the shame of the scaffold, moved Thérése to unbounded compassion, and she resolved, she a weak child living at fifty leagues distance from the guilty man who was entirely unknown to her, to attempt the impossible in order to rescue his soul from damnation. But we must hear her give in her own words the prelude of the attempt. “In order,” she says, “ to succeed in preventing the irremediable misfortune, I employed every spiritual means imaginable, and, knowing that of myself I could do nothing, I offered for the ransom of this unfortunate man 1 Deposition of Seeur Genevieve dela Sainte-Face at the Apostolic Process, p. 369. VOCATION TO CARMEL 135 the Infinite merits of Our Saviour and the fruits of the Church’s treasury. ““ Need I say that I felt in my heart the certitude of being heard? But in order to give myself courage to continue to strive for the conquest of souls, I offered up this naive prayer: ‘ My God, I feel assured that You will pardon the unfortunate Pranzini; I would believe this - even if he did not go to confession or give any mark of contrition, so great confidence have I in Your mercy. But this is my first sinner; for that reason I ask but a sign of repentance for my own consolation.’”’! From that time, Thérése thought it allowable to glance at the newspaper each day in order to find out as far as possible the fate of her protégé. On September 1, she read the following lines in the La Croix: “(Upon awaking) the condemned man was taken to the Office of Registration and handed over to Deibler and his assistants who were waiting for him. ** There his hair was cut off, his neck bared, his hands bound, and at two minutes to five, while the birds sang in the trees around and a confused murmur rose from the crowd, the order ‘ Sabre au clair’ rang out; the click of irons was heard, sword-blades gleamed, and at the opened door of the prison the assassin appeared with livid face. “The chaplain places himself in front to hide from him the fatal machine; the assistants help him along; he repels both priest and executioners. He now stands before the guillotine. Deibler pushes and throws him forward on to it. An assistant on the other side seizes hold of his head and draws it under the knife, holding it there by the hair. “ But before the final stroke—it may be that a lightning- flash of repentance penetrated his conscience—he asked for the chaplain’s crucifix, and three times he kissed it. And when the knife fell, when one of the assistants lifted up by one ear the separated head, we said to ourselves 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. v, p. 76. 136 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS that if human justice is satisfied, perhaps too this last kiss will have satisfied Divine Justice which demands, above all, repentance.”’* ; On reading this Thérése’s tears betrayed her emotion, and she was obliged to run away. ; ‘““T had then,” she continues, ‘‘ obtained the desired sign, and this sign was very consoling to me. Was it not in presence of the wounds of Jesus, watching His Divine Blood flow, that the thirst for souls had pene- trated my heart? I wished to give them this Immaculate Blood to drink in order to purify them from their stains, and the lips of ‘ mon premier enfant’ were pressed to the Divine Wounds. Ah, what an ineffable response! My desire to save souls increased each day since this wonderful grace. I seemed to hear Jesus whisper to me as He did to the Samaritan woman: ‘ Give Me to drink.’ It was a veritable exchange of love; for souls I offered the Blood of Jesus, to Jesus I offered those same souls refreshed by the Dew of Calvary; thus I thought to quench His thirst; but the more I gave to Him drink, the more did the thirst of my poor soul increase, and I received this burning thirst as the most delicious recompense.’”? With such dispositions one question absorbed 'Thérése : In what way could she best find an outlet for her all- consuming zeal? Was it her vocation to be a foreign missionary nun, or a Sister devoted to the care of the sick, or yet a priests’ helper in parish works? Did she not sometimes smile at herself, so athirst for sacrifices which would save sinners? ‘There can be no doubt, and she herself will declare afterwards, that she felt in her heart the flame which nourishes apostolic labourers; but an interior voice kept ever repeating to her that the life where unceasing prayer united to mortification perfected the entire immolation of the creature, would give more 1 La Croix, 1 September, 1887. * Histoire d'une Ame, ch. v, p. 76-77. VOCATION TO CARMEL 137 complete satisfaction to the Sitio of the Divine Saviour, and the attraction which from early childhood had inclined her towards Carmel became more pronounced than ever. “The Servant of God,” declares Sceur Geneviéve de la Sainte-Face (Céline), ‘‘ has herself confided to me the reason of this preference. It was in order to suffer more, -and by this means to gain more souls to Jesus. She reasoned that it is more difficult to nature to work without seeing the fruit of its labour, without encouragement, without distraction of any kind; that the most painful of all tasks is that of conquering self. “Thus it was this living death, most fruitful of all for the salvation of souls, that she chose to embrace, “longing,” as she said herself, ‘ to become a prisoner as soon as possible, in order to give the beauty and freedom of heaven to souls.’ Finally, in entering Carmel, her special object was to pray for priests and to immolate herself in the interests of holy Church.””! “The smallest movement of pure love is more useful to the Church than all works combined.” Without the help of any human stimulus, without even the aid of a director, this maxim of St John of the Cross was adopted by Thérése as the directing principle of her future, and she decided to go where she would be able to give most to God, in the first place, and then, indirectly but really, to her neighbour. Besides, nothing could be more natural than that she should feel drawn towards the cloister where her two elder sisters were already living in penitence and peace. 1 Deposition at the Process of the Ordinary, p. 204. During Thérése’s journey to Rome, a pilgrim lent her annals of missionary nuns. After having accepted them with enthusiasm, she gave them to her sister saying: ‘‘I will not read them, for I have too ardent a desire to consecrate myself to works of zeal, and I wish to be hidden in a cloister so as to give myself more completely to the good God.”—The Spirit of Saint Thérése de VEnfant Jésus. 138 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS But if Pauline, who still remained her dear confidante, did not hesitate to encourage her, in spite of her tender years, to follow her austere vocation, it must be re- membered that Marie, with her authority as eldest sister, considering her too young, opposed the idea of her immediate entrance. The little one could speak but rarely and with difficulty about her future to her two elder sisters, separated as they were from her by the convent grille. She was more at ease with Céline, the ‘“‘ dear companion of her infancy,” in whom she had for some time noticed those aspirations towards the perfect life which she herself experienced so forcibly and so clearly. This dear sister, suppressing her own desire for the sake of Thérése’s happiness, willingly consented to let her go first. Every evening, when the day’s round of study and domestic duty was over, the two young girls conversed freely of the austere joy of the cross enjoyed at Carmel, which gives here below a foretaste of heavenly peace. Seated in the “‘ Belvedere ” with hands linked together, watching the towering trees bathed in the silver light of summer twilight, together they turned their gaze towards the azure firmament studded with stars, and there behind the light and transparent veil of creation they discerned the presence of the Well-Beloved, and repeated in the words of the Divine Canticle: ‘‘ Having found Him without, He has given us His kiss so that no one can despise us.’’! They had to descend from these heights, for M. Martin considered that, notwithstanding their tender years, the two children could with profit devote themselves to the different duties that fall within a woman’s sphere, and acquire the knowledge necessary for good housekeeping. As before, Céline and Thérése always began their day by assisting at Mass. ‘Thérése communicated usually in that beautiful chapel of the fifteenth century which formed 1 Cant. viii 1. | VOCATION TO CARMEL 139 the apse of the cathedral, and which, according to a tradition, sometimes denied, had been built by Bishop Cauchon in expiation of his blameworthy part in the trial of Joan of Arc. Did Thérése find a special charm in receiving her God in this framework of beauty? Very probably yes, for earthly splendour which she instinctively appreciated ‘had never hindered her soul from soaring towards the magnificence of the invisible world. But what interested her most in this church, where she had watched the Holy Table with so much envy, was the possibility of often participating here in the sacred Banquet. Struck by the purity of this soul, her confessor, contrary to the custom of that time, allowed her Holy Communion several times in the week. Not content with giving her Well- Beloved her time, her work, and her sacrifices, she gave Him in an embrace of ever increasing sweetness her being, person, and entire life. Long since delivered from scruples, and cured of her excessive sensitiveness by the grace of Christmas night, Thérése was now a young girl of an exceptionally keen and reflective mind, inclined towards deep study by her desire for knowledge. She continued to attend the classes of the teacher whom her father had chosen for her on leaving the boarding school. That lady was very proud of so promising a pupil; but Thérése’s eager desire for knowledge con- tinually carried her beyond the limits of her teacher’s programme. Sucha disposition would have been perilous had not God taken care to guide this soul who saw in Him the climax of all human knowledge. By a preference worthy of attention, this young girl, eager to make special progress in the science of the saints, chose for her manual of spirituality the book which, after the Gospels themselves, is commended above all others to the meditation of the simplest Christians—namely, the Imitation of Christ. In these pages, humble in com- 140 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS position but rich in doctrine and deep observation, impregnated above all with an unction which seems borrowed from the sacred writings themselves, Thérése found a language adapted to the aspirations of her up- right soul, filled as it was with love and gifted with perfect understanding. She made it her constant companion, even to the extent of learning it by heart in a few months, and being able to repeat entire chapters from memory. Amongst the books which nurtured and strengthened her fervour at this time she mentions with special praise a volume which does not seem to have received from the Catholic public the same appreciation: Conferences on The End of the World and the Mysteries of the Future Life, by the Abbé Arminjon. ‘“ The reading of that book,” she declares, “‘ brought to my soul a happiness not of earth. I foresaw already what God has in store for those who love Him, and seeing how great is the eternal recom- pense compared with the trifling sacrifices of this life, I longed to love Jesus, to love Him ardently, and give Him a thousand marks of tenderness while it was yet in my power.’’! In other words, this child of fourteen, who shrinks from receiving, unmerited, the recompenses of another life of which she had already caught a glimpse, must hasten to Carmel, there to immolate herself. But how was she to force the convent gates, since neither the Mother Prioress nor even her eldest sister judged that the time had yet come to open these gates to her ? “‘T found but one soul,” she declares, “‘ to encourage me in my vocation: that of my dear Pauline. My heart found in hers a faithful echo, and without her, I would certainly never have arrived at the sacred shore which she had reached five years before.””? 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. v, p. 78. 3- Ibid. peste VOCATION TO CARMEL — I41I A difficulty more poignant if not more unsurmount- able than the opposition from the Carmel itself, was the prospect of leaving M. Martin in loneliness, which could not but sadden his heart. He was then sixty-four years of age. Outwardly he retained all appearance of health and vigour, although in reality he was weakened by an attack of paralysis, from which he had quickly recovered, . it is true, but which left his friends apprehensive of a possible recurrence. Besides this, he had once been stung while fishing by a poisonous fly, and had never been cured of a small excrescence left on his neck which resisted all remedies and sometimes caused him great pain. His life, then, was threatened with a twofold danger, and it was in these circumstances that he must be asked to part with his “‘ little Queen.” Thérése trembled at the very thought of broaching the subject to him. The months, meanwhile, were slipping by. She was now fourteen and a half, and had decided that if she overcame the obstacles raised against her project, she would enter Carmel at the coming feast of Christmas, the day on which a year previously she had received the “‘ grace of conversion.” Having chosen the Day of Pentecost on which to make her “‘ great disclosure,” she resolved to speak after having invoked the holy Apostles, renewed and fortified by the infusion of the Holy Spirit. The family had assisted as usual at the long ceremonies at the cathedral. After Vespers M. Martin, a little fatigued, was seated at the entrance to the garden at the back of the house, and there, with his hands joined he was contemplating the wonders of nature glowing in the May sunshine. The evening was glorious; the last rays of the setting sun shone golden on the leaves of the tall trees, and the birds filled the clear air with their adieu to the declining day as with an evening prayer. M. Martin’s noble countenance reflected the serenity of holy thoughts. 142 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS Softly, with her eyes full of tears, Thérése came, and without a word, sat down beside him. He looked at her with touching tenderness; then, drawing her to his heart, he said: ‘‘ What is it, my little Queen? Tellme... .’* And rising to hide his emotion, he commenced to walk slowly, keeping his arm still around her. Amid tears Thérése revealed her secret.... She felt called to Carmel, and she desired to enter soon within | its walls. The first shock was severe for the poor father. Did he in looking towards the future see his fireside deserted, his house empty, his old age abandoned to the care of hired servants? At all events, like the Saviour on the eve of His bloody sacrifice, he felt his soul torn with grief —and he wept. Nature had claimed her tribute of tears, but in an instant the great Christian soul recovered possession of itself. He first of all pointed out to Thérése that she was still very young to make so grave a decision; then he listened to her reasons, which she, having become more sure of herself, laid before him with calmness. 'Then approach- ing a wall where grew some tiny white flowers, which in form and colour resembled the lily, he plucked one and offered it to his daughter as a symbol of the virginal purity that she wished to consecrate to God. ‘These two hearts were henceforth united in their aspirations towards the same ideal; the step which cost Thérése the most had been | successfully taken. But from the time of her mother’s death, she had had a guardian, and it would not be right to leave her home without having first obtained his consent. M. Gueérin, in his affection for his niece, was surprised and greatly troubled, and showed himself at first adverse. “This would be,” he declared, “‘a unique case in the 1 ‘This scene has been reproduced by a skilful artist who has erected in this very place in the garden of Les Buissonnets a beautiful group in white marble. VOCATION TO CARMEL 143 whole of France. It would, in fact, be almost a scandal - for a child of fifteen years to enter Carmel.” As for him, he would oppose it with all his power, and to alter his opinion a miracle would be necessary. Such a reply filled Thérése with consternation. She besought her heavenly patrons to change her uncle’s resolve; but Heaven remained deaf to her pleading, and for three days she felt abandoned by God and man. - Nature was in unison with her soul; dense inky clouds covered the sky, betokening sadness and fear. Despite all, she prayed in her distress of soul. On the fourth day she returned to her uncle, and great was her surprise to find him completely changed. “A miracle is no longer necessary,” he said; ‘‘ I have prayed to God to give me an unbiassed inclination of heart, and my prayer has been granted. Go in peace, my dear child. You are a little privileged flower that the Saviour wills to cull for Himself; I will not stand in oppo- sition.” And he embraced his niece with the tenderness of a father. The horizon was cleared; Thérése could from hence- forth make direct appeal to the Carmel. Although formerly she had discountenanced the in- genuous request of the postulant of nine years, the Mother Prioress, who had since seen Thérése many times in the parlour and had learned about her from her sisters, was now quite disposed to welcome her. But before deciding finally to admit her, she had to consult the ecclesiastical superior of the community, who represented the Bishop in her regard. This superior, M. le Chanoine Delatréette, was then curé in the parish of Saimt-Jacques, in which the convent is established. A man of lively faith, of a disposition in the main benevolent, but with rigid, definitely moulded convictions, this priest, ignoring the just observations of the Prioress, constituted himself, in an exaggerated way, 144 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS the inflexible guardian of the Rule which he believed it his duty to maintain without modification or exception. He held that no one should be allowed to enter the Carmel before the completion of their twenty-first year.’ Mother Marie de Gonzague had tried without success to induce him to change his decision. She made another attempt in an indirect way. One day, when this for- midable Superior had come to the infirmary to visit the venerable Mother Geneviéve de Sainte-Thérése, foundress of the Carmel of Lisieux, she, on the suggestion of the Prioress, renewed the petition that Thérése Martin be admitted as a member of the community. A veritable outburst followed. ‘‘ Again this young girl,” exclaimed M. Delatréette. ‘‘'To hear you talk, one would think that the salvation of the community depended on the entrance of this child. There is no danger in delay. Let her remain with her father until she has reached her majority. Besides, do you believe that I would persist in refusing without having consulted God? Let no one speak further to me on this affair.””? The above scene gave an idea of the reception that awaited the one chiefly interested when she should present herself to plead her cause. ‘Therefore M. Martin, who now not only accepted as a fact but intended to foster his daughter’s vocation, decided to accompany her to the house of the redoubtable Canon. A sharp and decisive “ No” to the opening words of Thérése cut short the little speech she had prepared. But the conscientious priest said to them in parting: ‘‘ How- ever, I am only the delegate of Monseigneur. If he allows you to enter, I shall have no more to say.” 1 The Carmelite Constitutions did not fix an age limit for the entrance of postulants; at that time they merely directed that profession must not be made before completion of the seven- teenth year. 2 Deposition of Rev. Mére Agnes de cate at the Apostolic Process, p. 161. VOCATION TO CARMEL 145 They came away from the presbytery in torrents of rain. Like the heavens, Thérése’s soul, too, was sad. Yet the Superior’s last words gave her a ray of hope. Recourse to the Bishop of the diocese was possible. Without hesitation, M. Martin offered to take her to Bayeux, and Thérése found solace in the thought of this further attempt, from which, nevertheless her habitual timidity made her shrink. ’ Mgr Hugonin, the prelate in question, was a man of gentle and benevolent disposition. Of studious habits and already advanced in years, he left part of the administration of his diocese in the hands of his Vicars- General. . Associated with him in this quality was a priest of sterling piety and devotedness whose action was to have a momentary influence on 'Thérése’s destiny. Successively parish priest of Vaucelles de Caen, military chaplain, curé of Saint-Pierre, Caen, and Vicar- General of Bayeux, the Abbé Reverony had gained every- - where the reputation of an earnest apostle and an en- lightened director in matters of conscience. As humble and disinterested as he was charitable, he had refused the Episcopate, his only ambition being to minister to souls to the end, in the diocese where he had received the priesthood. He was in the confidence, too, of Mgr Hugonin, who hardly ever took an important step without consulting him.+ It was this confidential counsellor of the prelate who assigned October 31, 1887, to M. Martin as the date of his interview with the Bishop. Thérése set out accompanied by her father. It was the first time that the young girl had gone to visit anyone without her sisters, and now she was to begin by visiting a Bishop. Added to this, she who never spoke except to reply to the questions of others, found herself obliged 1See the Vie de l’ Abbé ¥. M. Reverony, Vicaire-Générale de Bayeux. (Anonymous.) La Chapelle Montligeon, 1900. 1Q 146 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS to explain before a prelate her reasons for seeking a strange and almost unheard-of favour. What a trial for her excessive reserve ! Meanwhile she endeavoured to put the best face on matters. In order not to appear as a child in the eyes of Mer Hugonin, she had put up her hair which, till then, fell on her shoulders in natural curls. In spite of all, when she had entered through the majestic gates and saw herself within two paces of those solemn walls behind which her fate was to be decided, she felt her emotion rising. But let her relate herself the interview on which her heart had founded so many hopes. “The Abbé Reverony was very friendly, although he looked slightly surprised. Noticing the tears in my eyes, he said to me: ‘ Ah, Isee diamonds. You must not show these to Monseigneur.’ “‘ We then passed through large state-rooms, which made me feel as insignificant as a tiny ant, and I asked myself what I should dare to say. Monseigneur was at the moment walking in a corridor with two priests. I saw the Vicar-General exchange some words with him and come back in his company to the room where we were waiting. ‘There three enormous armchairs were ranged in front of a brightly burning fire. “On seeing Monseigneur enter, papa knelt with me to receive his blessing; then his lordship motioned us to be seated. MM. Reverony offered me the central armchair. I excused myself politely. He insisted, telling me to show that I was capable of obedience. I immediately submitted without further hesitation, and had the mor- tification of seeing him take an ordinary chair while I found myself buried in a monumental seat where four girls like me might sit at ease—certainly more at ease than I was, for I was far from feeling at home. “T hoped that papa would open the conversation, but he told me to explain the object of our visit. This I did as eloquently as I could, though fully realizing that a simple VOCATION TO CARMEL 147 word from the Superior would have done me more service than anything I could say, and that his opposition must certainly tell against me. Monseigneur asked me if I had long had the desire to enter Carmel. ‘ Oh yes, Monseigneur,’ I replied, ‘a very long time.’ “““Tet us see,’ said M. Reverony smiling, ‘ certainly not as long as fifteen years.’ _ “That is true,’ I answered ; ‘ but it is not much less, for from the age of three I have desired to give myself to the good God.’ “‘ Monseigneur, believing that he would be expressing my father’s wishes, tried to explain that I ought to remain at home with him for some time longer. What was his lordship’s surprise and edification to see him immediately take my part, adding with respect and gentleness that we were going to Rome on the diocesan pilgrimage, and that I would not hesitate to speak to the Holy Father if I had not obtained before then the permission I sought. “Meanwhile a discussion on the matter with the _ Superior was considered indispensable before giving us a final decision. I could have heard nothing more dis- quieting, for I was well aware of his declared and decided opposition. So, disregarding M. Reverony’s warning, I did more than show my diamonds to Monseigneur, I gave them—shedding tears. I saw clearly that he was moved. He came and caressed me—a favour that no other child had ever, it appears, received from him. ‘ All is not lost, little one,’ he said to me, ‘ but I am pleased that you are going to Rome with your father; you will thus confirm your vocation. Instead of weeping you should rejoice. Besides, I am going to Lisieux next week; I shall speak to the Superior about you. You shall certainly receive my reply in Italy.’ His lordship then took us into the garden.’”* The audience was finished, and Thérése had, alas, accomplished nothing. 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. v. pp. 89-91. 148 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS Moved by the child’s candour and generosity, the venerable Bishop did not wish to discourage her openly; but the step appeared to him as well as to his Vicar- General both inopportune and unusual, and apparently they decided on withholding their approval, at least until the case had been more thoroughly examined. One last resource remained, a petition made in person to the Sovereign Pontiff, if that were possible. But what was this pilgrimage to which M. Martin had alluded and on which he counted to facilitate his * little Queen’s ”’ entrance to religion ? We are writing of that epoch when the recent spoliation of Italian convents, added to the position of the Sovereign Pontiff, who found himself virtually a prisoner, made the faithful of the whole world shudder, and more especially the Catholics of France. The Bishops of the most loyal dioceses wished to protest against these sacrileges, and to console the Holy Father by leading to his palace legions of pilgrims eager to make known their respectful attachment to him. Amongst the most ardent protestations against the usurpations of the Italian Government was that of the Bishop of Coutances, Mgr Germain. It was he, apparently, who had initiated the pilgrimage in which the Martin family were to join, and which had the avowed object of honouring the sacerdotal jubilee of Leo XIII. Mgr Germain had a Vicar-General well adapted to second him in his undertaking. A successful organizer of religious pilgrimages, of active disposition and ultra- montane tendencies, the Abbé Legoux, who bore the title of Pope’s chamberlain as reward of his many acts of devotion to the Holy See, set about finding among the clergy and the wealthy families of that part of the country a sufficient number of pilgrims to form an imposing body in the halls of the Vatican. VOCATION TO CARMEL 149 In order to increase their numbers, it was decided to make the projected journey both an act of filial loyalty to the Holy Father and at the same time a magnificent pleasure trip. ‘The programme published in the Diocese of Bayeux appeared so attractive that there also numerous families enrolled themselves as pilgrims, so many that Mgr Hugonin, wishing to have his flock officially re- . presented at the Vatican, sent at their head his Vicar- General, M. Reverony. Everything was in readiness for the approaching departure. The preliminaries of this long excursion had been exceptionally well thought out. Cares for the material side of the journey were reduced to the minimum, permitting each pilgrim to give himself without anxiety to the enjoyment of the wonderful sights. ‘The economic organization of the pilgrimage had been given to the “Agence Lubin” who, for an agreed sum payable in advance, guaranteed to provide the railway journey, hotel accommodation and meals, and sight-seeing tours by vehicle in the principal towns. M. Martifi had always a great love for travel. From the first he had been tempted by the charm of this pilgrimage which would enable him to see a second time the most beautiful sights in Europe, to view the most splendid monuments of Christian art, while at the same time bringing to the Pontiff prisoner the homage of unwavering fidelity. After his interview with Mgr Hugonin his resolution was strengthened by a new motive. He left Lisieux accompanied by his two daughters on November 4, for Paris, where all the pilgrims were to meet. Thérése soon remarked that certain ‘pilgrims were obsessed with other preoccupations than those of piety. In these carriages decorated with religious emblems were assembled the flower of the Normandy nobility. In this brilliant reunion, at the commencement of a tour which promised as much enjoyment as edification, each 150 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS one made willing display of his titles and family pre- rogatives. The little one was shocked by this worldly ostentation at the very beginning of the pilgrimage. “ Far from dazzling us,” she says, “‘all these titles of nobility appeared to our eyes as smoke and vanity. I recalled these words of the Imitation : ‘ Pursue not the shadow of agreatname.’: I understood that true greatness is not to be found in a name but in the soul.” Nothing reveals the little failings or whims of good people more than the continuous close intimacy of life on a pilgrimage. Thérése esteemed the many edifying Normandy priests with whom she travelled; edifying they were, in truth, though not wholly freed, as she saw, from every weakness of human nature. This continual association inspired Thérése, after a few weeks, with the following reflections: ‘‘ For the past month I have met many holy priests, and I have seen that if their sublime dignity has raised them above the angels, they are, as men, still subject to human weakness and frailty. If, then, holy priests whom Jesus in the Gospel calls the salt of the earth, show that they have need of prayer, what of those who are tepid ?”’? She now understood what had hitherto escaped her— namely, that prayer for priests was one of the highest and most salutary services rendered by Carmel, and she resolved to place this, later, in the first rank of the duties involved by her state of life. November 7 was fixed for the gathering together of the pilgrims in the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, Montmartre. While awaiting the departure for Italy, M. Martin thought it well to take his daughter to see the principal monuments of Paris. In ‘Thérése’s opinion, nothing equalled the little church of Our Lady of Victories. She felt that in this . Imit., b. iii, ch. xxiv, 2. * Histoire d’une Ame, ch. vi, p. 95. VOCATION TO CARMEL I51 sanctuary which had witnessed so many spiritual favours, Mary had something to reveal to her, and she held herself in confident and peaceful expectation at the foot of the _white statue which represented so well the maternal countenance of the Blessed Virgin. Our Lady of Victories made her understand clearly, first of all, that it was in very truth she who had smiled on her and cured her. This assurance was of inestimable worth for Thérése. It will be remembered that the search- ing questions of some of the Carmelites had troubled the “‘ little one ” to the extent of making her lose in part the joy of her supernatural cure. The Queen of Heaven set her mind at rest on this subject so completely that she could open her soul in gratitude and consolation un- alloyed. Such condescension on the part of the Blessed Virgin induced Thérése to ask for new favours. She feared that the tour through Italy, with its spectacle of purely pagan art or of art too directly inspired by paganism, would not be without danger to her modesty. Having no knowledge of evil, she dreaded to discover it. ‘Thus she besought the Immaculate Virgin to guard her un- ceasingly. After she had addressed the same prayer to St Joseph, “the father and protector of virgins,” she felt that her prayers were heard. The time had come to rejoin the pilgrimage. After the consecration of the members to the Sacred Heart in the Basilica of Montmartre, they set out for Switzerland, through which they had to pass before entering Italy. Each compartment of the train was, at the outset, placed under the patronage of a saint, the idea being to choose the patron of the presiding priest of each com- partment or that of his parish. Mer Legoux had already remarked the fervour of the three pilgrims from Lisieux. Approaching their group with animation, he announced in a loud tone the name of 152 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS their patron as St Martin. ‘Thérése’s father smiled and thanked him. He was to experience, during the journey, less agreeable incidents. He was accustomed to hear hymns sung on former pilgrimages. He thought that when travelling through the level plains of Champagne, where nothing worth notice was to be seen, some moments at least could well be devoted to united praise of God; but card-playing often occupied a greater number of hours than prayer, even in M. Martin’s compartment. When he was asked to join in this pastime he excused himself, saying that in his opinion it would be better to devote more time to devotional exercises. Vexed at this remark, although it was made in the most courteous manner, one of the persons concerned cried out: ‘“‘ Fortunately, pharisees are rare.” "lhe humble M. Martin did not utter a word; he pretended not to have heard the remark, and, soon afterwards, found an occasion of shaking hands with the man who was so utterly wanting in respect for his grey hairs. This was one of the numberless incidents which served for the sanctification of each according to his measure, and made of the beautiful tour, in spite of everything, a pilgrimage of penance. The first halting-place was Bale. As the pilgrims arrived at nightfall they were unable to visit the town, and after a few hours’ delay at the station set out again in the middle of the night for Lucerne. Switzerland had till then veiled its splendour; but when suddenly the lake of the Four Cantons came in view, the travellers perceived, beneath the clear rays of the sun, the deeply indented shores bathing their rugged or smiling promontories in the crystal waters; when they beheld the imposing heights of the Pilatus and the Righi with snow-capped summits veiled in cloud, there was a universal cry of admiration. Therése Martin rivalled in enthusiasm her most VOCATION TO CARMEL 153 _ animated companions. These splendid sights had lasting powers of enchantment since, she could write after the lapse of many years: ‘‘ What good it did my soul to see those beauties of nature spread out thus in profusion ! How they raised it to Him who is pleased to scatter His wondrous works over this land of exile which lasts but for a day.’” _ On leaving Lucerne, the town of historic bridges, of _which the majestic setting made one rather forget their archeological value, the railway followed the course of the Reuss. This is the most picturesque portion of Switzerland, so rich in magnificent scenery. Thus Thérése found at every turn occasion for a new hymn of praise to the Creator. ‘‘ At times we were carried up nearly to the summit of a mountain. Below the awful precipices seemed ready to engulf us in their un- fathomable depths. Or again, we would pass through a charming hamlet with its chalets and its graceful belfry, above which the fleecy clouds hung softly. Then, an immense lake with calm and crystal waters mingling their azure tint with the gold of the setting sun. How express in words my impressions of so poetic, so imposing a spectacle ? I had there a foretaste of the wonders of Reavers: wu. ? And again: “I said to myself, ‘ Later on, in the hour of trial when, a prisoner in the Carmel, I shall be able to see only a little corner of the heavens, I will recall this scene, and the remembrance will give me courage. I shall no longer be preoccupied about my own petty interests when thinking on the grandeur and power of God. I will love Him alone, and shall not be so unfortunate as to become attached to trifles, now that my heart foresees something of what He has in store for those who love Him.’ ’” Such was the spiritual profit of this rapid excursion through Switzerland and its renowned scenery. Beyond the Saint-Gothard tunnel new scenes of en- 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. vi, p.97. 2 [bid. 3 (bid. 154 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS chantment awaited them. They were now in the plains of Lombardy, resplendent in the sun, offering to the astonished eyes of the Normandy visitors, who had just left behind them leafless trees and leaf-strewn roads, the glory of summer growth and verdant fields as yet hardly touched by the autumn blast. Here, on the edge of transparent waters which throw back the reflection of its white houses, Lugano raises its cupolas in the centre of an elysian countryside. Here is Como with its lake sleeping peacefully in the moonlight, and its blue crown of hills wreathed in mist. Here, also, is Milan, the proud capital, which was reached at nightfall, and of which nothing but the broad boulevards with their sparkling lights could be seen. The pilgrims had to await the morrow for their visit to the “‘ Duomo,” that incomparable cathedral with its lace-like white marble and its innumerable statues. This church holds the body of St. Charles. IM. Martin and his daughters did not fail to assist at the early Mass celebrated by Mgr Germain before the precious shrine. As pilgrims were allowed to ascend to the top of the edifice, Thérése, whose admiration was not exhausted by the Swiss landscapes, undertook, with her sister, the ascent of dome and turret in order to see from this vantage-point the wide panorama of the city and the Lombard country- side. ‘They continued to mount upward until the people in the streets below appeared “ as small as ants.” The programme of excursions included a visit to the Campo-Santo of Milan. In the north of Italy, every large town has its monumental cemetery, where the tombs of the wealthy are usually of marble adorned with finely executed sculpture. Appreciating works of art, as well as Nature’s grandeur, 'Thérése was struck with admiration for the perfection and finish of these statues which almost seemed to palpitate with life. ‘‘ What masterpieces |”? she exclaimed. ‘‘ Here is a little child strewing flowers on its father’s tomb; the lifeless marble VOCATION TO CARMEL 155 is forgotten; the delicate petals seem to slip from the fingers. Here the light veil of the widow, and ribbons woven through young maidens’ hair, seem to float and shimmer in the breeze.” One pilgrim, however, tried to suppress this joy. He was an old gentleman who grumbled and found fault with everything, and who could in no way endure enthusiasm . of any description in his fellow-travellers. It would have - been better for him to remain at home, as Thérése frankly declared. But she refrained from complaining. She rather made this a subject of observation from which she purposed to draw profit. “‘ What an interesting study,” she writes, ‘‘is the world to one who is on the eve of leaving it.” On the following day the pilgrims took train for Venice, and arrived there at nightfall, about ten o’clock. Their entry into this singular town was lugubrious. On leaving terra firma, the solid ground of the station, they were handed over to the gondolier who had been engaged to bring them to the hotel selected beforehand; all this in the darkness. The gondolier, with whose language you are generally unacquainted, rows you along in silence over the marshy waters of the canals. Your route lies at times between high walls, dark and sinister-looking, intensifying by their shade the inky blackness of night which hangs over the stagnant waters. ‘Through numberless unknown windings you are finally taken to the hotel, where you regain with some difficulty your sense of security. Such was the first impression received by the Normandy pilgrims on entering the city of the Doges. Was it the memory of this cheerless arrival which drew from Thérése the following unenthusiastic appreciation? ‘‘ This city,” she says, ‘‘ has many charms, but it is melancholy.” Perhaps it did not sufficiently present the attraction which, in her eyes, surpassed all others, that of sanctuaries specially venerated for their precious relics or the miracles 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. vi, p. 98. 156 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS wrought within their walls. Assuredly, incomparable marvels of art were in evidence at the palace of the Doges, at St Mark’s, in the museums, on the fa¢ade of the palace near the Grand Canal; but all was solemn with the silent solemnity of a necropolis. And then there were the underground prisons, dungeons where so many victims pined away their lives in former days, the sight of which inspired Thérése with horror and pity.* The cathedral of Padua was a compensation to her fervour. Only after venerating the precious relic of St Anthony, did she turn to admire the splendid sculp- tures of Donatello lavished on the tomb of the humble Franciscan. The next break in their journey was at Bologna. With- out delaying over the details of San Petronio Cathedral, or the masterpieces of Francia within its walls, Thérése hastened to the church of St Catherine. The future Thérése de Enfant Jésus could not fail to contemplate with devotion the mortal remains of this little Collettine of the fifteenth century, whom the Divine Infant had loved with predilection, and on whose dead face still remained the imprint of His kiss. She venerated those limbs, pliant still in spite of death and the blood liquid after 400 years. ‘The pilgrims saw in this preservation the glorification of the saint’s purity and humility, this saint who, before entering the cloister, had shone as a lady of honour at the Ferrara court. Once more Thérése raised her heart in gratitude to the Almighty who seemed thus to recompense the virtues He loves best.? But Loreto was a real joy to her. There one can vener- 1 'Thérese Martin, on arriving at Venice, was brought to the Hotel della Luna, where the author of this book, amember of the same pilgrimage, also stayed. Without knowing her, he probably passed her often jn the corridors or on the stairs. 2 She, however, confided later to one of her sisters that the puri ae body of the saint was for her a not very attractive sight. VOCATION TO CARMEL 157 ate the humble dwelling where the Word was made flesh, those walls which were silent witnesses of the play as well as the rude toil of the Child Jesus. After a delightful journey along by the Adriatic studded with little triangular-sailed fishing barques, then through plains where, as in Virgil’s time, the vine is mated with the elm and the cherry-tree, the pilgrims could at last climb the slopes of the holy hill. As if the corner of the earth where the Santa-Casa lies should participate in the humility of this artisan’s dwelling, Loreto is a simple village where a house of some appear- ance or a comfortable hotel would be sought for in vain. The home of the King is surrounded, as of old, by lowly dwellings. ‘This very fact formed an additional attraction for Thérése. In this, she declares, lay the charm of Loreto. The Holy House, enclosed now in a gorgeous basilica, contains, as we know, certain objects well calculated to excite devotion in the pilgrim; for example, a little wooden vessel called “the bowl of the Infant Jesus.” ‘Thérése did not fail to touch with her rosary beads this relic held sacred by a graceful tradition; but the Santa-Casa had a yet more precious possession, an altar; and at this altar, so near to the place where Our Saviour lived, the two sisters, Thérése and Céline, by a holy daring, succeeded in receiving Holy Communion. Some hours later the train departed for Rome. The weather was exceptionally favourable; the Umbrian countryside, bathed in the transparent autumn light, produced in the souls of the pilgrims a feeling of deep peace. Each beautiful little village seemed to them a terrestrial paradise, as it emerged from the clusters of evergreen pines or yew-trees, crowning hills, the rounded summits of which seemed to succeed one another in infinite line. As for Thérése, she delighted more than any other in the charms of this enchanting country. Were not these the 158 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS farewell smiles of well-beloved nature to which she was about to bid adieu ? It was night-time, and she was asleep in a corner of the carriage, when the porters ran along the train crying out, “Roma, Roma!” She had reached the end of the journey ; the home of the Sovereign Pontiff, whose authority she was about to invoke, was not far away. Through the noisy modern streets which enclose ancient Rome within a circle of ugly commonplace houses, Thérése and her two companions were driven to one of the vast hotels which the agency had procured for the pilgrims. This was the Hotel du Sud, where she stayed during her brief sojourn in Rome,‘ while Mer Germain, Mgr Legoux, and the majority of the pilgrims from Coutances went to the Hotel Minerva. An inquisitorial eye had noted the actions and de- meanour of 'Thérése since they left Normandy, and did not cease to observe her during each halt in the journey. It was that of the Abbé Reverony. Though a little em- barrassed at finding herself the object of this prolonged solicitude, which she foresaw would grow more vigilant when they visited the Vatican, yet Thérése went on her way without constraint, and joined in the excursion arranged for the pilgrims before the day fixed for the Papal audience, with perfect freedom of spirit and child- like wholeheartedness. To visit the places of interest, the pilgrims had been divided into five groups. That to which the Martin family belonged began by visiting those the most celebrated of the Campagna. ' More than mere curiosity inspired 'Thérése and Céline to examine the gigantic circus which, under the name of 1 This hotel, situated in the Via Capo le Case, still exists, and a memorial tablet, bearing a representation of the saint (in relief), was set up there on May 17, 1925, the date of her canonization, VOCATION TO CARMEL 159 the Coliseum, had been the theatre of the cruel Roman games; they had a genuine veneration for its arena, red with the blood of martyrs. With real joy, then, they set out for the amphitheatre, that imposing ruin which forms one of the wonders of the papal city. Their ambition was to kiss the ground where the Christians had fallen torn by the teeth of wild beasts, and, if possible, to gather some grains of this sacred dust. But they had not taken into account the ravages of time, through which, in the course of centuries, the original soil had been covered up at a depth of at least 25 feet. Excavations had, however, been carried out in one part of the arena, and a gaping hole protected by a strong barrier gave access to depths where, perhaps, the soil sanctified by martyr-blood could still be found. Notwithstanding the barricade, the two sisters ap- proached this opening and Thérése, leaning over the edge, believed she saw a way of getting down: “‘ Come, follow me,” she said to Céline; “‘ we shall be able to get down.” But we must hear her own account of this exploit: ‘* We set ourselves immediately to the attempt, climbing over ruins which crumbled beneath our feet, while papa, astonished at our daring, called out to us from the dis- tance. But we no longer heard anything. ‘As warriors feel their courage rise according as the peril increases, so did our joy grow greater in proportion to our fatigue and the danger we had to face in order to attain the end in view. “Céline, more far-seeing than I, had listened to the guide. Remembering that he had described a certain stone marked with a cross, as indicating the place where the martyrs fought, she set herself to find it. She soon succeeded, and we knelt down on this sacred ground, our souls united in the selfsame prayer... . My heart throbbed with emotion as I touched with my lips the dust empurpled with the blood of the early Christians. I asked 160 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS the grace that I, too, might be a martyr for Jesus, and I felt deep down in my heart that my prayer was heard. *“* All this occupied but a few moments. Having col- lected some small stones, we returned towards the walls to resume the perilous part of our enterprise. Papa, seeing us so delighted, could not chide us; I even saw that he was proud of our courage.’”* It was during this expedition through the Campagna that the two sisters visited the catacombs of St Calixtus. They had as guide a Trappist of Norman origin, Pere Marie-Bernard. His kindness proved a considerable help in reaching this labyrinth of underground galleries, lighted only by the flickering flame of a torch. This catacomb contains, as we know, the sarcophagus where the body of St Cecilia was discovered. In order to show their veneration for the martyr’s last resting-place, Thérése and Céline lay in turn in this loculus of stone which had guarded through so many centuries the body of the gentle saint, ‘‘ the Queen of Harmony.’’? This moment marked for Thérése the beginning of a new devotion. She felt for St Cecilia not only veneration, but the real love of a friend. ‘“‘She became,” says Thérese, “my saint of predilection, my intimate con- fidante. What above all gained my love was her perfect abandonment to God, her unlimited confidence, which enabled her to convert to virginity souls who had never a thought before but to seek their joys in the things of earth. At the tomb of St Agnes she experienced the same emotion. She picked up and carried away with her a small fragment of the ancient mosaic as a souvenir for her dear Pauline (Sceur Agnés de Jésus). The days following the expeditions to these celebrated 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. vi, p. 102. * 'The reproduction of Maderna’s statue had not, at this time, been placed there. 8 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. vi, p. 103. VOCATION TO CARMEL 161 places where Thérése sought only food for her fervour, were devoted to visiting the principal churches and other monuments that history or art has immortalized. It was proposed, and had even been made the subject of a wager, that they should see in six days the most famous wonders at least of the Eternal City. Thus, to fulfil their programme, they had usually to hasten along after a guide . who too often allowed but little time for prayer even in - the most venerated places. To make matters worse, the rain never ceased to harass the pilgrims; every cupola and obelisk had for background a leaden sky. Visited under these conditions, the greater basilicas, including St Peter’s, then the Scala-Santa and the Mamer- tine prison, without counting the museums and private galleries, do not seem to have left any vivid impression on Thérése, since she does not mention them in her autobio- graphy.1 “At Rome,” she writes, “in the church of the Holy Cross of Jerusalem, we venerated several fragments of the true Cross, two of the thorns, and one of the sacred nails. In order to examine them more at leisure, I managed to remain last, and as the religious who had charge of the precious treasures was preparing to replace them on the altar, I asked him if I might touch them. He replied in the affirmative, though appearing doubtful that I should succeed. I then put my little finger through an opening in the reliquary, and was thus able to touch one of the precious nails once bathed in Our Saviour’s Blood. I acted towards Him, as can be seen, like a child who believes that everything is allowed her, and who regards as her own the treasures of her Father.’’? Besides, she became more and more preoccupied by 1 She makes exception for the Basilica of the Holy Cross of Jerusalem, where she enjoyed a privilege which she gladly acknowledges. 2 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. vi, p. 110. II 162 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS the thought of the Pontifical audience fixed for November 20, and of the petition which she was to address to the Holy Father. Early on the morning of the appointed day, the carriages arranged for by the Agency came to the hotels beneath a continuous downpour of rain and took the different groups of pilgrims to the Vatican. At half-past seven, all had assembled under the leadership of Mgr Germain and the Abbé Reverony, with the Bishops of Nantes, Séez, and Vanne ina vast hall hung with red damask, and occupied at one end by an altar of surprising simplicity. Here the Sovereign Pontiff was to celebrate the Holy Sacrifice, after which he had promised to receive the members of the pilgrimage. Exactly at eight, Leo XIII appeared, wearing a flowing red mantle over his white woollen cassock. Having given a silent blessing to the assembly, he knelt to prepare for the Holy Sacrifice, and the pilgrims realized how this great Pope, so renowned for powerful doctrine and great governing ability, was, at the same time, a man of prayer and recollection in presence of the Saint of Saints. With deathly pale countenance, ascetic in its worn appearance, and eyelids lowered over the dark eyes, ordinarily so sparkling with light, he communed with his God. His lips moved slowly as in that prayer where a few words sustain the intensity of inward feeling. He rose from prayer, and one noticed that, although his frail frame was scarce bent by age, he had to lean his already trembling hands on the arms of his chaplains to ascend the altar. The Papal Mass was to console Thérése for all the prayers said perforce so hurriedly during the preceding days. ‘To see Leo XIII at the altar was better than any sermon. He pronounced the Latin in a slow and measured voice. His Italian accent sometimes prevented the French congregation from catching the words per- fectly. But what faith, what tender piety was in his tone, VOCATION TO CARMEL 163 in his attitude, even in his least action. What unction, above all, in the prayers after Mass, which he had himself composed and prescribed for the universal Church. Leo XIII impressed Thérése as a truly saintly Pontiff, and when after the Mass of thanksgiving celebrated by one of the chaplains, he went into the Audience Chamber to receive the pilgrims, the young girl felt strongly drawn to speak to him as to a father. Theaudience commenced without great formality, almost with the intimacy of a family reunion. Mgr Germain presented in turn every member of his flock, giving name and rank, and, in certain cases, their title to a special blessing from the Holy Father, who, himself seated on an ordinary armchair raised on one or two steps, and wearing his soutane and camail, took the hand of each one, spoke a few fatherly words, gave fervently his blessing, and presented a commemoration medal. Next in turn came the Bayeux pilgrims; but Mgr Germain did not present these. M. Reverony, with a little less good grace perhaps, watched to see that the for- malities of the audience be, above all, scrupulously ob- served. Had he a suspicion that Thérése Martin, in a full public audience of the Sovereign Pontiff, in presence of the high dignitaries who surrounded him, and in sight and hearing of over a hundred people, would dare to address to Leo XIII the petition deferred by the Bishop of Bayeux ? Be that as it may, when he saw the two sisters, with calm and resolute faces beneath their black mantillas, approach the Pontifical throne, he announced in a loud voice that he absolutely forbade anyone to speak to the Holy Father. What was to be done? Thérése looked imploringly for a sign from Céline. To obey the injunction would mean 1 The writer of these lines was introduced by Mgr Germain as the author of a Manual on Thomistic Philosophy, and the Pope of the Encyclical Zterni Patris deigned to address to him the most encouraging congratulations. 164 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS seeing destroyed in one instant the hope that had sustained the two during a journey of 500 leagues. ‘‘ Speak!” said her elder sister. A moment afterwards Thérése is at the feet of Leo XIII. She quickly kisses the Pontiff’s foot, grasps his extended _ hand, then, with eyes bathed in tears, exclaims: “Most Holy Father, I have a great favour to ask.” The Pope bent down his head until it touched Thérése’s mantilla. His dark piercing eyes sought to read those of the child. She continued: “‘ Most Holy Father, in honour of your Jubilee, permit me to enter Carmel at fifteen.” Here was the famous petition feared by M. Reverony. No doubt he did not wish it said that what had been refused at Bayeux had been obtained in Rome. Standing, as he was, beside the Sovereign Pontiff, he believed that he should interfere. ‘‘ Most Holy Father,” he said, “‘ this is a child who desires the life of Carmel, but the superiors are, at the moment, considering the question.” This was almost a dictation of the Pope’s answer. “Well, my child,” said His Holiness, ‘‘ do whatever the superiors shall decide.” Thérése joined her hands and resting them on the Pontiff’s knees said in a suppliant voice: “‘ O Holy Father, if you only said yes everyone else would agree.” Leo XIII looking at her fixedly and with kindness, said in an earnest voice: “ Well, my child, you shall enter if it be God’s will.” This reply, though evasive, was not a refusal, and left room for the Bishop’s authorization. The other pilgrims were waiting their turn. Thérése was preparing to renew her petition when two of the noble guard told her to rise. As she still remained kneeling, hoping for a favourable answer, they took her by the arms, and M. Reverony had to come to their aid before she would relinquish her post at the knees of the Sovereign Pontiff. VOCATION TO CARMEL 165 It was over; the journey had failed in its object, at least until Mgr Hugonin should again intervene. The poor child retired in desolation. When her father, who had received the Pope’s blessing before her, met her coming out from the audience, she was bathed in tears, which she made no effort to dry... . The dark mass of cloud over the city continued to pour down torrents of rain, and Thérése remarked once more the harmony between her soul and the heavens which seemed as though wishing to share in her griefs as well as in her joys. This time her disappointment was profound ; but despite her bitter sadness, Thérése remained mistress over that pure region where her will, dominating the lower facul- ties, insured that serene happiness which results from union with God’s holy will. The young girl had done all in her power to answer Heaven’s call. The Almighty had judged fit to over- throw her calculations and hopes; the trial was hard, but, interiorly, she experienced great peace. A simple reflec- tion made her, moreover, accept lovingly this Divine providence in her regard. She had offered herself some time before to the Infant Jesus as His plaything—‘‘ His little ball,” as she expressed it. It was, then, only natural to see herself tossed to right or left, driven here and there or even pierced, according to His good pleasure. ‘The treatment, apparently so rigorous, which had been meted out to her was the consequence of her offering. Jesus had accepted that offering. Will not his acceptance be the source, was it not already the presage of that “perfect joy” promised, in spite of dire tribulation, to those who give themselves to God without reserve ? Thérése returned with her father to the hotel. Some days later M. Martin went to visit a venerable religious, Brother Simeon, founder, and, at that time, Superior of St Joseph’s college. He met there the Abbé Reverony whom he gently reproached for not having aided Thérése in her difficult 166 st ‘THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS enterprise, and he made known in a few words to Brother Simeon his daughter’s heroic attempt. ‘‘’That never happens in Italy,” saidthe old man. These words were meant, perhaps, as an indirect lesson for the Vicar-General, so little inclined to favour this noble and generous design. M. Reverony did not defend himself. He believed he had interpreted his Bishop’s wishes; that, to his conscience, was sufficient. It is probable, too, that his long-standing habits of administrative prudence suppressed the enthu- siasm which was, no doubt, required before taking part in this apparently rash project. The day following the Papal audience had been chosen for a visit to Naples and Pompeii. ‘They set out at early morning. Ina few hours, after a passing sight of Aquino, the native place of St Thomas, and the celebrated monas- tery of Monte Cassino, the travellers reached Pompeii. The sadness of this ruined city corresponded to the state of 'Thérése’s soul. She would have liked to wander alone through the abandoned streets and ruined palaces, to meditate at leisure on the decay of earthly splendour, but she had to follow the merciless guide, surrounded by the pilgrims who had been caught in a shower of rain, and were little disposed to stand still admiring roofless houses. The departure for Naples was a happy diversion. Thérése, who so lately was deeply impressed by the sight of the sea during her holiday at 'Trouville, would naturally be enraptured on beholding the Bay of Naples, dominated as it is by the great Vesuvius and its threatening crater. The town shelters beneath a hill on which stands a noble convent, now, alas, bereft of its monks. Its halls, adorned with fine frescoes, sculpture, and mosaic work, have been converted into a museum, so that, at the San Martino monastery, the traveller can enjoy priceless treasures of art and the still more astonishing marvels of nature. The view from this beautiful spot would assuredly, at another time, have greatly delighted Thérése, but, on VOCATION TO CARMEL 167 the morrow of her disappointment at the Vatican, she felt keenly the powerlessness of earthly things to bring joy to her soul. Nor did the wondrous Bay of Naples any more than its rich hotels awaken feelings of gladness within her, for she writes later, recalling this excursion: “T felt truly that joy is not to be found in the things that surround us; it resides in our inmost soul. We can possess joy in the depths of an obscure prison as well as in a royal palace.’’! A threatened accident had, it is true, helped to cloud her visit to Naples. Coming down the hill from San Martino the horses took the bit between their teeth and ran away; she owed it to the protection of her angel guardian that she arrived safe and sound at the hotel” where they were all to pass the night. The desire to return to France took possession of the Martin family, and it was with pleasure that Thérése saw, on the following day at Rome, preparations for the home- ward journey. Their departure was fixed for November 24. ‘The train left at six o’clock in the morning for the north of Italy. At one of the first stops Mgr Legoux came to the door of the carriage where Céline and her sister alone remained. He looked attentively at Therése, then smiling, said to her: ‘‘ Well, how is our little Carmelite?” ‘lhe poor child, who had thought that her petition to the Holy Father was known only to those who were quite near at the time, now understood that all the pilgrims knew her secret. ‘This made her suffer all the more, but only, in truth, because of her scrupulous reserve and modesty, for, on her own avowal, the revelation won for her some ‘< sympathetic ” glances, which never went beyond the bounds of discretion, as her perfect reserve during the journey had gained the respect of all. The writer of these lines had heard since the departure from Rome the touching history of this young girl of 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. vi, p. 109. 168 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS Lisieux, who had dared to ask Leo XIII for permission to bury herself at fifteen in an austere convent. The incident was spoken of in his compartment with curiosity, but also with unfeigned admiration, so much so, that he became greatly desirous of seeing this child, so impatient to leave all for God. But the train continued on its way without a stop; interesting sights succeeded one another; soon the charms of the beautiful pilgrimage gave place to the ordinary cares of everyday life, so that after long years it required the fame of St Thérése’s miracles to recall to her present humble biographer that he had lived for a whole month in her immediate vicinity. After skirting the beautiful lake of Pérouse, the pilgrims alighted on a clear sunlit evening at the foot of the hill at Assisi. The traces of the “ poor one ’”’ who had found “ perfect joy ’’ in complete renunciation had naturally an attraction for a young girl drawn to the lowly poverty of Carmel. So great was her ardour in seeking these out at the convent of Assisi, that she mislaid, in her distraction, some small articles of dress, and when the time came for departure, she was so preoccupied in looking for them that she let the carriage which was to take her to the station go off without her. There remained but one more conveyance, that of M. Reverony, and this was already full. On pain of missing the train, Thérése had to reveal her critical position to the priest whom she instinctively dreaded more than ever. The Abbé Reverony was a man capable of generosity, and, at times, of a certain delicate kindness. Conscious of the pain that he had caused Thérése, he asked one of his companions to sit with the driver, and placed the child opposite to himself in the best seat. She felt “ like a squirrel caught in a trap.”’ He, deter- mined to make her feel at ease, spoke to her continually VOCATION TO CARMEL 169 about Carmel, promising to do all in his Weeks to realize her desire of entering at fifteen. These words cheered her for the rest a the journey. She avows, however, that after so many disillusions ‘‘ she had lost confidence in creatures, and could no longer rely — on anyone but God alone.” Be that as it may, her soul had regained its calm when she reached Florence on her homeward way. Here again nature displays splendours which would have delighted the pilgrims; but, once more, dark rain-clouds hid the horizon. They had to content themselves with a visit to the principal buildings. While her fellow-travellers wandered through the galleries of the Uffizi or the Pitti Palace, which contain the richest collections of art in the world, Thérése, feeling, even amidst these marvels, the attraction of Carmel, hastened to the convent where St Magdalen of Pazzi had lived, and kneeling before her tomb, she begged the saint to obtain entrance for her into that house of her Order, where she unceasingly asked to be admitted. Numerous pilgrims wished to touch with their rosary beads the relics of the saint. Thérése’s hand alone was found small enough to pass through the grating which protected the venerated body. She rendered service thus to each one who passed their rosary beads to her, and this “* noble office,”’ as she tells us, made her feel very proud. A short delay only was made at Pisaand Genoa. They weré anxious to return to France, and Thérése, in her autobiography, makes merely a passing reference to these towns. But her poetic soul could not refrain from paying a final tribute to the Italian coast, along. which lay their way to the French frontier: ‘‘ We returned to France,” she says, ‘“‘ by a splendid route. We now skirted along by the sea, and one day during a storm the railway ran so close to the water’s edge that the waves seemed almost to reach us. Further on, we travelled through plains covered with orange-trees, olives, and graceful palms. 170 ~—«sSST.: THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS At evening-time the numerous seaports gleamed with brilliant lights while, in the firmament above, the first stars faintly sparkled. Yet, without regret, I watched this fairy-like tableau vanish away ; my heart aspired to greater things.’”! Having venerated Notre-Dame de la Garde at Marseilles, and Notre-Dame de Fourviére at Lyons, the pilgrims hastened towards Paris, where theyarrived on December 2. The dispersion of the various groups commenced imme- diately ; the pilgrimage was ended. M. Martin was, as we know, a born traveller. Whether to console Thérése after her recent disappointments, or to shorten the period of waiting which, seemingly, was to be imposed on her before entering Carmel, he offered, probably during the journey from Paris to Lisieux, to take her on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem; but this proposal held no attraction for the young girl. Instead of contem- plating new horizons, she wished to be shut in between the four walls of a cell. Moreover, in spite of every bitter failure, she had not yet given up her old and cherished idea of entering Carmel on December 25. No sooner had she reached Lisieux than she hastened to the convent to tell her sisters the result of the journey. Having exhausted in vain all her resources, she asked for advice and support, especially from Sceur Agnés de Jésus, who had always encouraged her desire to consecrate herself to God without delay. ‘This sister reminded her that the Bishop of Bayeux had promised her a written reply, a reply that one might hope would be favourable, and which had not yet been received. She consequently advised her to write to the Bishop asking to be allowed to enter the cloister at the coming feast of Christmas. She did so, but Mgr Hugonin remained silent. However, on January 1, 1888, Thérése received from the Prioress, Mére Marie de Gonzague, a letter informing her that the Bishop had addressed his reply to the monas- 1 Histoire d'une Ame, ch. vi, p. 111. VOCATION TO CARMEL 171 tery on December 28, that he sanctioned her immediate entrance, but that she herself thought it better to defer her entrance until after Lent. Thérése learnt later that the Mother Prioress had imposed this slight delay in order to soothe the susceptibilities of M. Delatroétte, who still maintained his opposition, and also to spare the postulant from undergoing, at the very beginning, the ’ rigour of a Carmelite Lent. At first this decision was extremely painful to Thérése. But she found means of sanctifying those months of waiting by endeavouring more than ever to forget self for others. She thus prepared herself beforehand for the life of renunciation which was soon to be imposed on her by the rule, and tied herself down in advance to the austere practices of the novitiate, which had such an attraction for her generous spirit. CHAPTER VII THE CARMEL OF LISIEUX—THERESE AS POSTULANT, AND HER RECEPTION—TERRIBLE TRIAL—-PROGRESS IN DETACH- MENT OWARDS the centre of old Lisieux, not far from the church of St Jacques, in a narrow street bordered in part by antique wood-stayed houses, stands the convent which Thérése Martin was to render famous all the world over. The beautiful chapel, embellished and enlarged in honour of her who has become its glory, though unchanged in its essential parts, did not present, at Thérése’s entrance, the same aspect as today. As to the rest, the cloister has not changed, and the saint who lived there would, if it were given her to return, recognize its every detail. Nothing could be more simple than the austere and geometrical architecture of this convent, built of red brick and surmounted by a little slate-roofed dome. Its garden, closed in between the muddy waters of the Orbiquet river and the adjoining properties, occupies but a narrow space, and the perfect arrangement of its walks does not take away the impression of smallness. This monastery had heroic beginnings, almost equal to the first Spanish Foundations of St Teresa of Avila. Established in 1838 in a small thatched house lent them in the Chaussée de Beuvillers, the first four Lisieux Carmelites, trained and governed by two nuns from Poitiers, experienced the rigours of extreme poverty. With their accommodation consisting of little more than two miserable garrets, a poor oratory and a room 172 THE CARMEL OF LISIEUX 173 eighteen feet square divided into three compartments, they lacked even the most necessary furniture. A box in the kitchen served as a cupboard ; a chimney- board, placed in a corner, did duty for a larder, while the stone floor had to be used as a serving-table. The plates and other utensils were so scarce that it was necessary to wash the dishes during dinner for use again at the same . meal. It was from this stable of Bethlehem that Mére Elizabeth de Saint-Louis, the Prioress, and Mére Geneviéve de Sainte-Thérése, whom we shall meet later on, took their little band to an old house in the rue de Liverot, which was to be replaced by the present convent. Here also long years of great hardship were endured, so much so that more than once the sisters had to dine on fried leeks. But the fervour of the community grew in proportion to its privations. It was blessed, moreover, by the prolonged government of one of those first nuns from Poitiers, Mére Geneviéve de Sainte-Thérése, chosen as Prioress after Mére Elizabeth’s death. She was a religious of consummate humility, who, by dint of application, had accustomed herself to carry out the ordinary duties of daily life with rare and supernatural perfection. Her eminent virtue drew down blessings on the convent, and with the arrival of new postulants came a much - needed increase in material prosperity. Mére Aimée de Jésus, future Prioress of the Carmel of Coutances, who for three years governed the house of Lisieux after the temporary deposition (enjoined by the rule) of Mere Genevieve, was able, in 1858, to have the first large wing of the present convent built, and Mére Marie de Gonzague, who later succeeded Mére Geneviéve, undertook in 1876 the building which was to give the convent its definite form. The Carmel of Lisieux was therefore, when Thérése Martin entered, a house already sanctified by heroic 174 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS sacrifice, where the most humble practices of the Carmelite rule were ennobled and hallowed by the memories that clustered around them.* April 9, 1888, had been chosen for Thérése’s entrance. Her last days of freedom were passed at Les Buissonnets, hallowed by the tender love of her father and her two sisters, Léonie? and Céline. Before parting with his “little Queen,” M. Martin sought every occasion of giving her pleasure. Returning from one of his country walks, he brought her a little lamb only one day old, all white and frizzly. Céline and Thérése were delighted ; they instinctively loved these frail little creatures, seeing in their delicate grace the smile of God; but, alas, their poor lambkin died that same day. Meditating on this disappointment, Thérése wrote to her sister Marie: ‘‘ We should not become attached to anything on this earth, not even to things most innocent, for they fail us at the moment we least think. Only the eternal can fully content us.” On the evening of April 8, the family, consisting of the father and the three sisters, to whom were added M. and Mme Guérin with Jeanne and Marie, had taken their places around the old oak table at which Thérése was to sit for the last time. Everything in this room spoke to the young girl of the happy past; a veritable sanctuary it was, where so many affectionate words had been inter- changed, so many conversations inspired and blessed by God. ‘There were the two armchairs which had generally been used by her parents during the intimate and restful gatherings on winter evenings. There was the hearth, the centre of attraction for all, from whose sparkling flames radiated heat and joy. Even the walls themselves, 1 On this early period of its beginnings see The Foundation of the Carmel of Lisieux, and its Foundress, Rev. Mére Genevieve de Sainte-Thérése, Central Office, Lisieux. * Léonie had returned home after a trial of the religious life in the Novitiate of the Poor Clares, which her delicate health made it impossible for her to continue. THE CARMEL OF LISIEUX 175 silent witnesses of so much quiet happiness, of so many loving confidences. To all these mute objects, which yet seemed this evening to give expression to their grief, she had to bid farewell. But what was this separation from inanimate things in comparison to the parting that awaited Thérése on the following morning? ‘‘ Then, just when one would wish . to be forgotten,” she wrote later, ‘‘ words of the deepest - tenderness are on all lips, as though to make the sacrifice of separation more keenly felt.’ The hour had come to leave all for God? “ That morning,” continues Thérése, “‘ after a last glance at Les Buissonnets, the charming nest of my childhood, I departed for the Carmel. I assisted at holy Mass, surrounded, as on the eve, by my dear ones. At the moment of Communion, when Jesus descended into their hearts, I heard nothing but the sound of weeping. As for me, I did not shed tears; but as I walked on before the others to the door of the cloister, my heart beat so violently that I asked myself whether I was not about to die. Ah, what a moment! What agony! One must have experienced it in order to understand. “* T embraced all, and knelt before my father to receive his blessing. He too knelt and, weeping, he blessed me. It was a sight to make the angels smile for joy—the old man presenting his child to the Saviour while yet in the springtime of her life. At last the doors of Carmel 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. vii, p. 116. 2 “* T witnessed the departure of my little sister for the Carmel,”’ declares Léonie, ‘‘ and I was particularly struck by her strength of soul. She alone was calm. ... I told her to reflect well before entering religion, adding that my experience had shown me that the life demands many sacrifices and should not be lightly undertaken. The reply she gave me and the expression of her countenance showed that she was ready for every sacrifice, that she would accept all with joy.”’ Deposition of Seur Frangoise-Thérése at the Process of the Ordinary, ppt tT. 176 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS closed behind me, and there I received the embrace of the two beloved sisters who had each been a mother to me, and of a new family whose loving devotedness is unknown to the world.’ The thought of living henceforth under the same roof with Marie, her ever devoted elder sister, and Pauline, her “‘ dear little mother,”’ the hope of being formed in part by their example in the life of immolation, had no share in the joy that inundated the soul of the postulant from the moment of her entrance. Solely with the enthusiasm inspired by sacrifice willingly undertaken, did she look forward to the rude austerities of the religious life. Everything in the monastery charmed her; she believed herself transported into the desert which had been the dream of her childhood; her cell above all, with its cold bare walls, had an attraction for her which made her say from the very first hour with a sigh of contentment: “* Now I am here for ever.” That she retained this happy impression speaks all the more highly for her when we consider the words of salutation with which M. Delatroétte thought fit to greet her entrance into the convent. In presence of M. Martin, the enclosure door being wide open, this unyielding Superior had said dryly: ‘“‘ Well, my Reverend Mothers, you can now chant a Te Deum. As the Bishop’s delegate, I present to you this child of fifteen whose entrance you have desired. I trust she may not disappoint your hopes, but I remind you that if it should turn out otherwise, the responsibility will be yours alone.’’? All the Sisters were chilled by the attitude of this venerable priest who seemed to set himself up as a prophet of evil. This was the first mortification of Thérése in the cloister to which she came to pray, suffer, and make reparation. 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. vii, p. 116. & eae a of Mere Agneés de Jésus at the Apostolic Process, p. 162 THE CARMEL OF LISIEUX 177 Happily, the sad forebodings of M. Delatroétte did not influence the judgement of her companions. On the contrary, they felt from the outset the power of that virtue which, all unconscious of itself, shone forth even in the physical aspect of the postulant. ‘‘ From her entrance,’ her Novice mistress has declared, ‘‘ the Servant of God surprised the community by her bearing which was marked by a certain majesty that one would not expect in a child of fifteen. What has been referred to as majesty “‘ did not exclude either simplicity or a charming readiness to render service,” since, on the testimony of the same religious, ““ she set herself to every duty with an admirable grace.” Before following the details of her daily life, let us give a rapid glance at the life she had chosen. To commence here below, as perfectly as may be possible, the life of contemplation led by the blessed above, such is the aim of the Carmelite. And as the life of heaven can be summed up in three actions which are the eternal occupation of the saints—namely, to see, love, and praise God—the Carmelite applies herself here on earth to acquire a knowledge and love of the Divine Majesty, as well as to praise Him, borrowing for hymn and psalmody words dictated by the Holy Spirit Himself. By the recitation of the Roman Breviary, to which the 1 Deposition of Mére Marie des Anges at the Apostolic Process, p.184. The deposition of Mére Agnés de Jésus on this subject is more explicit still. ‘‘ At her entrance,” she declares, “‘ the Sisters, aware of her youthfulness, expected to seeachild. Her presence, however, inspired them with respect; they admired her dignified yet modest bearing and her air of deep resolve. One of them, Sceur Saint-Jean de la Croix, who had been opposed to the entrance of so young a postulant, said to me some time afterwards: ‘ I thought that you would soon be sorry for all you had done to give us your little sister.’ I said to myself, ‘ They will both be disappointed.’ How deceived I was. Scur Thérése de l’Enfant Jésus is extraordinary; she is an example to us in everything.” Summarium of 1914, p. 679 (2831). 12 178 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS rule obliges her, by her reading and meditation, she has on her lips, during six and often seven hours a day, the word of God, and these inspired words must create in her heart divine affections. Zeal for the glory of God and the salvation of souls, the end and object proposed by St Teresa of Avila to her daughters, must ever urge them on.1 On the other hand, religious perfection is not obtained without an entire detachment from creatures and a deeply rooted distrust of self; and so the Carmelite practises, during her whole life, many exercises of morti- fication, of penance, obedience, and humility. Her rule enjoins a continual fast from September 14 until Easter, in addition to the prescribed fasts of the Church; every Friday of the year and numerous vigils are added to this, with perpetual abstinence except in cases of sickness. Obliged also to profound silence save during the two hours of daily recreation, spending a considerable portion of the day in her cell or in the office assigned to her, where in solitude and recollection she does her appointed work, clothed in coarse serge, she has but a hard palliasse supported on three planks on which to repose after her prolonged vigils. And to these austerities of the rule it is occasionally allowable to add those voluntary penances which have been at all times familiar to the saints. These austere mortifications are ordinarily insignifi- cant in comparison to the assaults directed against self- love and the caprices of the imagination. Acts of humility publicly performed, the obligation of never excusing herself though perhaps unjustly accused, or reproached without cause, prompt, absolute, and unquestioning obedience, even in the minutest details, to every superior commanding in the name of God—such are the arms unceasingly employed to bring her nature under subjec- tion and lead her to the happy state of a spouse who 1 The motto of Carmel is ‘‘ Zelo zelatus sum pro Domino Deo Exercituum. THE CARMEL OF LISIEUX 179 loves God even to the extent of wholly immolating herself for His glory. Not in vain is this struggle against the old enemy carried on in these shrines of joyous suffering. Little by little, souls become detached and purified and more Christ-like. There is, perhaps, no place in the world where peace so abounds, where happiness so reigns, as in the enclosures bounded by the sombre walls of Carmel. Such was the life that Thérése Martin had just em- braced in the hope of thus compensating for the insults launched by the world against her well-beloved Saviour. Mortifications were not slow in coming to this child, who had made the offering of herself with disinterested love. Providence permitted that she should find in the character of certain superiors and companions a source of suffering in addition to the rigours of the rule. The monastery had now, for two years, been governed by Mére Marie de Gonzague, who succeeded, in a fourth term of three years, the venerable Mére Gene- viéve de Sainte-Thérése, still living but weighed down with infirmities. Daughter of a noble Calvados family,’ the prioress in office had, in the past, given proof of initiative and administrative ability. These qualities, joined to a great heart and a charming personality, due in part to careful education in early years, had no doubt determined the choice of the community. But this active and richly endowed nature was not without some defects. Very impressionable, and of somewhat distrustful character, predisposed to melan- choly, she did not always possess that even-balanced judgement which makes rule beneficial and inspires sub- ordinates with confidence. Besides, although she had greatly desired the entrance of Thérése Martin to the Carmel, she judged, as it would 1 She was born at Caen, in 1834. 180 — ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS seem, that a vocation so premature required to be specially tested. As a result of this theory, and in consequence of a certain natural impulsiveness not always held in check, she made the child’s early religious life painful. Note the frank admission of the postulant: “‘ From the first,” she says, ‘“‘my way was strewn with more thorns than roses. Bitter dryness was the daily food of my soul. Then the Saviour permitted that I should be very severely treated by our Mother, even unconsciously ; I could never meet her without receiving some reproof. Once, when I had left a cobweb in the cloister, I remember her saying to me in presence of the whole community: ‘It can be easily seen that our cloisters have been swept by a child of fifteen. Too bad! Go, sweep away that cobweb, and learn to be more careful in future.’ “On the rare occasions when, for spiritual direction, I spent an hour with her, I was reprimanded nearly all the time, and what distressed me most was that I did not understand how to correct my faults, for example, my slowness and insufficient assiduity in the various duties. “One day, I said to myself that our Mother would, no doubt, like me to be employed at work during the free time usually devoted to prayer, and I plied my little needle without raising my eyes; but no one ever knew of it, as | wanted to be faithful and to act always for Jesus alone. ** When I was a postulant, our Mistress would send me at half-past four in the afternoon to weed in the garden. This cost me a great deal, especially as I was almost sure to meet Meére Marie de Gonzague on the way. She said on one of these occasions: ‘ After all, this child does absolutely nothing. What sort of novice would she be who must be sent out every day for a walk?’ And it was thus that she acted towards me in all things.’”! Such was the treatment which Thérése was to receive 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. vii, p. 117. THE CARMEL OF LISIEUX 181 for long years, the rigour of which, allowing for some intervals of calm, was scarcely relaxed, even during her last illness. How she acted under this undoubtedly heavy hand which was for her, nevertheless, always the hand of God, we learn from the testimony of the Prioress herself. ““Meére Marie de Gonzague,” declares R. P. Godefroy Madelaine,' ‘‘ confided to me that, in order to exercise Seur Thérése’s virtue, she had studiously sought to try her by affecting towards her a certain indifference and severity. She has, moreover, testified to me that this apparently harsh treatment had certainly been very painful to the Servant of God, but that no pain had ever caused her to deviate in the least from perfect obedience.””” We shall revert to this obedience, which attained an heroic degree in later years, and will ever be numbered amongst the most meritorious virtues of the young nun. After the Mother Prioress, to whom she felt at first drawn by a sympathy so soon checked, the mistress of novices, Mére Marie des Anges, contributed to the for- mation of Thérése. She was a good and pious religious of superior educa- tion who had known Thérése as a little child, having seen her from the age of nine come to the parlour to visit her sister Pauline.* She had conceived for her a real affection, which was increased by admiration for her virtues. ‘‘ From her entrance,” she declared, “‘ Thérése grew in grace and wisdom before God and before the 1 One time Prior of the Premonstratensian Abbey of Mondaye (Calvados), and vice-provincal of his order in France, afterwards Abbot of Saint-Michel de Frigolet. 2 Deposition of R. P. Godefroy Madelaine at the Apostolic Process, p. 739. 8 She was a daughter of the de Chaumontel family, one of the oldest and most deeply Christian in Calvados, which had as its device: ‘“‘ Douceur et discrétion.”” She died in 1924, aged seventy nine years. 182 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS community by a very constant correspondence with Divine grace. This it is which explains to me the rapid ascent of so young a child to the highest sanctity. Even quite lately a venerable and holy nun said to me in referring to Thérése’s novitiate: ‘ In truth, we had never seen anything like it.’ ””* From the outset, she too had procured for her novice an increase of merit by unintentionally exercising her patience. Not understanding, just at first, the special grace of the little saint, which was that of interior silence, she gave her during the early months long exhortations, of which the fervour did not lessen the monotony, and which rather impeded Thérése’s intimate communing with Jesus and hindered her soul from ‘‘ expanding.” But the esteem with which the virtues of this good mistress inspired all the sisters soon triumphed over this embarrassment. It was to her, notwithstanding the difficulty at first of expressing her feelings, that Thérése made known the pain caused her by the Mother Prioress’s severity—not that she dreamed of criticising or complaining—but through a need of her affectionate and loyal nature. “I see her still,” said Mére Marie des Anges, “‘ as she came one day to confide to me the grief of her heart, without, however, letting the least murmur of complaint escape her. She discerned the providence of God regarding her soul, and smiled in spite of everything.’ Seeing her pained, and sometimes physically weakened by the austerities of the rule, the mistress of novices tried to procure her some relaxation, in allowing her, for instance, to prolong her sleep. Unfortunately, the poor Mother was often absent-minded. Having for- gotten to give her this alleviation for whole weeks together, she would then oblige her, without sufficient reason, to rest for fifteen consecutive days, and the Mother 1 Deposition at the Apostolic Process, p. 215. 2 Deposition at the Process of the Ordinary, p. 665. THE CARMEL OF LISIEUX 183 Prioress, not seeing the novice at morning meditation, blamed Thérése, who did not then know whom to obey. : The child hoped for a time to find support and light in the counsel of the former Prioress, the venerable Mére Geneviéve de Sainte-Thérése, now definitely confined to bed, a prey to cruel suffering. But it was decreed that no human consolation should ever enter to lessen the merit of her generosity. Mére Geneviéve was a saint favoured with supernatural lights. Never- theless, Thérése did not receive from her the help that she desired for her spiritual advancement. This good Mother had, in more than one instance, prophetic visions of the future; she did not, however, divine the sublime destiny which awaited the humble postulant. She was even frightened by the hardihood of her ideas, and dis- concerted her by certain remarks; this, however, did not prevent her from consoling Thérése in the exterior trials with which she saw her afflicted.t Thérése profited by the inspiring example given her by the piety of the Foundress; but, excepting one instance which we shall mention, she received from her few words of en- couragement in her ascent to the heights of perfection. There remains to note the influence of the confessor, on whose help Thérése had the right to count on enter- ing the cloister. Abbé Youf, chaplain to the Carmel of Lisieux, was a priest of true piety and austere virtue, but whose spiritual activity was restricted by ill- health. It was impossible to obtain from him direction properly so called. He was not long, however, in noticing the rare qualities of the new-comer; he did not hesitate 1 See the biography of La Révérende Meére Genevieve de Sainte-Thérése, p. 88. One day, for example, when M. Martin was in a condition which was most painful to the hearts of his daughters, Mére Genevieve, then an invalid, sent for Thérése and her sisters, and calmed their fears by repeating to them a word which Our Saviour had said to her, and which was verified on the following day. JIbid., p. 89. / 184 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS to speak most highly of her, and favoured, as far as discretion permitted, her desire for daily Communion. Up to this time Thérése does not seem to have felt real need of a spiritual director. During the two years preceding her entrance to Carmel, God did not make use of an intermediary to instruct her regarding her vocation; at most He had given her a certain insight into convent life and the spirit of the Order by means of her sister Pauline, who was already a religious. But once across the threshold of the cloister, this light became dim; trials of darkness and aridity were added to the other sufferings sent her by the Divine Master for the purification of her soul. Henceforth, she sought counsel from the priests who came to the monastery. Excepting the chaplain, who was but feeble support to her, she saw only, and that at rare intervals, the preacher of the retreat. All did not understand her. Pére Blino, of the Society of Jesus, a holy man undoubtdely, and well versed in the ways of spirituality, considered rash her ardour for self-immolation, and in his opinion, these outbursts of love were scarcely compatible with a religious formation which was yet only in its commencement.’ Another Jesuit saw further and more clearly. Born in the vicinity of Alencon, at Carrouges, Pére Almire 1 “ Several confessors and preachers of retreats,”’ declares Mere Agnés de Jésus, ‘‘ succeeded in frightening her or para- lysing her ardent desires. ‘ Father, I want to become a saint,’ she said one day to R. P. Blino; ‘ I want to love the good God as much as St Teresa did.’ ‘,What pride and presumption!’ he replied. ‘Confine yourself to the correction of your faults; see that you offend the good God no more, make each day some little progress, and moderate your rash desires.’ ‘ But, Father, I do not think that these desires can be called rash, since our Saviour has said, “ Be ye perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect... .”’ But the priest was not convinced.” Sum- marium of 1919, p. 248 (605). THE CARMEL OF LISIEUX 185 Pichon was an eminent religious who excelled in his particular work as preacher of Retreats. Sent by his superiors to Canada in 1886, he returned to France in 1887 for some months. Thérése was then fourteen. On the advice of her sisters, whose director he was, she told him of her desire for the religious life, and he was probably the only ecclesiastic to encourage her project of entering the Carmel without delay, even if, to obtain permission, she must have recourse to the Sovereign Pontiff. During the year 1888, Pére Pichon came to give the Exercises at the Carmel of Lisieux, where he again met Thérése, and he thought that he had only to encourage her in the way of trustful love, the safety and efficacy of which he everywhere dwelt upon in his preaching. This was, alas, the time when the poor child, plunged as she was in aridity, asked herself with bitter disquietude if she were worthy of love or hatred. The Father commenced by restoring peace to her soul. But let us hear her tell of the benefits of his direction, though given but in passing. “R. P. Pichon was himself surprised, two months after my entrance, at the work of God in my soul; he thought my fervour quite childlike and my way very sweet. This little conference with the good Father might have brought me great consolation but for the extreme difficulty which I| felt in laying open my heart. I, nevertheless, made a general confession to him, after which he spoke these words: ‘ In the presence of God, of the Blessed Virgin, of all the Angels and Saints, I declare that you have never committed a single mortal sin. Render thanks to the Saviour who has given you this grace gratuitously without any merit on your part.’ “Without any merit on my part! Ah, I had no difficulty in believing this. I felt how feeble and im- 1 In 1915, four years before his death, he had already given - 1,015 Retreats. 186 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS perfect I was; gratitude alone filled my soul. The fear of having stained the white robe of my baptism had caused me much suffering, and this assurance, coming from the lips of a director who, according to the desire expressed by our Mother St Teresa, ‘joined knowledge to virtue,’ seemed to come from God Himself. The good Father also said to me: ‘ My child, may Our Saviour be always your Superior, and your Novice Master.’ He was so, in truth, and my Director too.... Hardly had Pére Pichon taken charge of my soul than his superiors sent him to Canada. Reduced, hence- forth, to receive from him but one letter a year, the ‘little Flower’ turned towards the Director of - directors.” Some time afterwards, Thérése met another priest who came to give a Retreat, and who perfectly under- stood the state of her soul; but his help was also to be but passing, so that she had again to implore the aid of her heavenly Director. She then accustomed herself to seek guidance and consolation either in the Holy Scripture or in writings where the doctrine and general tone more vividly re- called the word of God. On the testimony of her sister Céline, who was later to have her as novice mistress, ‘‘ she studied the Sacred Scriptures in order to know the character of the good God. The different senses of Scripture distressed her. ‘ If I had been a priest,’ she said, ‘ I would have diligently studied Greek and Hebrew, in order to know the Divine 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. vii, p. 119. The following are a few lines of the deposition made later by R. P. Pichon at the Process of Beatification: “It was easy to direct that child; the Holy Spirit led her, and I do not think that I ever had, either then or later on, to warn her against illusion. . . “What struck me during that retreat were the spiritual trials through which God made her pass. I had then a very strong impression that the good God willed to make her a great saint.” Summarium of 1919 (362 and 364). THE CARMEL OF LISIEUX 187 thought as God deigned to express it in our human language.””! It would appear, too, that the light of the Holy Spirit supplied for her want of knowledge of Eastern languages, for, if we rely on the testimony of Scur Marie de la Trinité, who made her novitiate under Scur Thérése’s direction, “‘ she interpreted the books of Holy Scripture with unheard-of facility. One would have said that these Divine books had no meaning hidden from her, so well was she able to discover all their beauty.’ Thus is her love for liturgical prayer explained, a love that began on her entrance to the convent, and which ’ was to go on increasing until her death. She affirms this herself in enthusiastic words which show the clearness with which she perceived, through these sacred writings, the radiance of the Spirit of God. ‘‘ How happy I was,” she says, ‘‘ when, officiating at the Divine Office, I said the prayers out loud in the centre of the choir. I re- flected then that the priest recited the same prayers at Mass, and that, like him, I had the right to pray aloud before the Blessed Sacrament, and to read the Gospel when I was First Chantress. I can say truly that the Divine Office has been, at the same time, my joy and my martyrdom, for I had a great desire to recite it without fault, and yet, in spite of all my application, I made mistakes.”’® Together with the Sacred Scriptures, Thérése had to make a deep study, at the commencement of her life in the convent, of the writings of St Teresa and St John of the Cross,‘ which are considered as classics in the Carmelite Order. She loved the beautiful and mystical lyrics of this latter, and became very deeply imbued with his doctrine. 1 Testimony of Sceur Genevieve de la Sainte-Face at the Apostolic Process, p. 330. 2 Testimony at the Apostolic Process, p. 702. 3 Unpublished notes. 4 More particularly those of the latter. 188 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS The novice’s predilection for the Imitation is already known; she had no need to re-read it, as she knew the whole book by heart. But the fruit that she had drawn from it inspired her with the thought of studying another book, which is nothing else but its commentary. The work formerly published by Pere Surin under the title The Foundations of the Spiritual Life, drawn from the Imitation of Christ, presents, among other merits, that of participating in the admirable simplicity and penetrating unction of the text that it expounds. It constitutes, moreover, a perfect manual of detachment, since it inculcates above all, contempt of the world, detachment from all earthly riches, mortification of the senses, and self-abnegation. This was sufficient re- commendation for Therese, already practised by the Divine Master in every degree of patience, to make of this book her constant companion. Another work, simple in style but remarkably lucid, which had for her an equal charm, was the treatise of Mgr de Ségur, entitled Piety and the Interior Life. The saintly prelate therein insists on the idea that the chief means of living the life of Jesus is diligent meditation on His Gospel. No doctrine could be more adapted to the long-standing and ever increasing attraction of Thérése for this Divine book, which, in the end, absorbed all her attention, to the exclusion of every human book. A word on the place which it held in her interior life. After her entrance to the convent, the fervent Carmel- ite succeeded in finding the four Gospels in one volume small enough to allow of its being carried constantly near her heart, and she was faithful to this practice until her death. Furthermore, at a time when she was under- going grievous temptations against faith, she wrote the entire Credo with her blood in this book, as counselled by one of her confessors. To her most intimate confidantes she explained this THE CARMEL OF LISIEUX 189 devotion. She wrote, for example, to the Mother Prioress: “It is the Gospels, which, above all, occupy my mind during mental prayer. From them I draw everything necessary for my poor little soul. I ever discover there new lights, hidden and mysterious mean- ings.’’! And again: ‘‘ When I read certain treatises where many obstacles to perfection are shown, my poor mind grows tired very quickly; I close the learned book which wearies my head and dries up my heart, and I take instead the Holy Scripture. Then, everything appears to me in clear light; a single word opens out infinite horizons to my soul; perfection seems easy to me; I realize that it is sufficient to recognize one’s nothingness, and to abandon oneself as a child in the arms of God.’”? These last words show clearly where Thérése found the idea of the “ Little Way ”’ of perfection, which she was afterwards to recommend to every soul. It was in the Gospel itself, in the Gospel clearly understood, which preaches unceasingly the way of abandonment and filial love towards our Heavenly Father. Could we find, in truth, a doctrine more frequently inculcated in the sacred text than that of our Divine sonship? And if we are really and literally the sons of God, is it not our first duty to becomeas little children towards Him? And consequently, shall we not be pleasing to Him in such measure as we show ourselves little and humble and trustful? It is important to note in passing the purely evangelical origin of this way of perfection which, in a few years, led the young religious to the highest degrees of Divine union. Exercised in detachment by the Mother Prioress, formed by the mistress of novices in the practices of cloister-life, instructed by the occasional counsel of an experienced director, and by the study of a few ascetical 1 Histoire d’une Ame, ch. viii, p. 146. 2 Letter published at the end of the Histoire d’une Ame, p. 370. 190 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS books, Thérése de l’Enfant Jésus had, above and beyond all these, as principal and soon as sole teacher, the Divine Saviour Himself, making known in His Gospel the secret of sanctity. She could have equally relied on the help of her own two sisters in religion to initiate her into the spirit of Carmel. But the postulant’s relations with her elder sisters were altogether different from what friends outside expected. On seeing this charming, intelligent, and gentle-mannered child of fifteen enter the Carmel, the natural conclusion, judging from a worldly point of view, was that she would be the “‘ pet ”’ of the community, and that her two elder sisters could never show her enough affectionate attention. Her real position in regard to them would have caused astonishment had it been known outside the Carmel. Persuaded that in the religious life more than anywhere else, perfect charity requires the sacrifice of natural affection, at least as regards its external manifestation, Thérése, loving, sensi- tive, and tender as she was, mortified herself to the extent of never seeking the company of Sceur Agnés de Jésus or Scur Marie du Sacré-Ceeur. At recreation, she took her place indifferently beside whoever came first, or rather, made sure of being near to one who seemed to her forlorn. If one of her own sisters were sick, she did not feel that she had any right to go to see her until other nuns had been before her in this little act of kindness. Certain admissions reveal, it is true, the cruel constraint she put on herself in such cases. During her last illness she was asked what she would have done if one of her sisters had been ill instead of herself. “Would you have gone to the infirmary during re- creation ?” ““ No, I would have gone straight to recreation without making any inquiry; but I would have done it quite THE CARMEL OF LISIEUX 191 simply, so that no one would notice the sacrifice I was making.” As regards visits to the parlour, she practised the same self-effacement, the same voluntary privation of family affection. With the exception of her beloved Léonie and Céline, whom she knew she ought to console in their loneliness by showing her tenderness for them, Thérése allowed her visitors to talk on while she listened, saying scarcely a word, and was the first to leave when the appointed time came. But in this school of renunciation, she learned that love renders every suffering sweet; she enjoyed profound peace, even in the apparent abandonment of creatures, even under heavy trials which, humanly speaking, should have dismayed her. The following lines, bearing the date of this period, are addressed to Céline at Les Buis- sonnets: “‘ You are right, life is often oppressive and sad ; it is hard to begin the day’s work, especially when Jesus hides Himself from our love. What is He doing, this sweet Friend? Does He not see our distress, the heavy weight that presses upon us? Where is He? Why does He not come to console us? Céline, have no fear; He is there, quite near. He is looking at us. It is He who asks of us this suffering, these tears... . He has need of them for the sake of souls, for our soul, as He wants to give us so glorious a reward. Oh, I assure you that it costs Him a great deal to plunge us thus in bitter- ness; but He knows that it is the only way of preparing us to know Him as He knows Himself, to become as gods ourselves! What a destiny, how great is our soul! Let us rise above passing things, let us hold ourselves aloof 1 Deposition of Mére Agnés de Fésus at the Process of the Ordinary, p. 570. ‘These acts of self-abnegation which un- enlightened worldlings may judge with severity have been called “‘ magnificent ”’ by R. P. Auriault, S.J., one of the most authoritative witnesses who gave evidence on the Saint’s doctrine at the Process of Beatification. 192 ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS from earth; high up the air is so pure! Jesus may hide Himself, but one divines His presence. . . .””* A child who, at fifteen, soared to these heights, could still be wounded by the thorns on the way in her inter- mittent contact with earth, but she could neither be brought down nor slackened in her flight. This rare virtue, moreover, quickly gained the secret admiration of the superiors who had believed it their duty to try her. Mére Marie de Gonzague, always so strict in regard to her, declared freely that she was a treasure for the Carmel, ‘‘ the best of the best; an angel.” What was of greater value, she permitted her to take the holy Habit—not, it is true, at the normal time, that is, after six months as postulant—but on January 10, 1889.” The preparatory retreat for her clothing was passed by Thérése in that aridity of soul by which Jesus was pleased to purify her. But the following lines, addressed at the time to Sur Agnés de Jésus, reveal to us her perfect comprehension of this Heaven-sent trial. ““. ..In my soul’s intercourse with Jesus there is nothing, nothing but dryness and sleep! Since my Well-beloved wills to remain asleep, I will not prevent Him; I am too happy in seeing that He does not treat me as a stranger, that He is not constrained with me. . . . “I am happy, yes, truly happy to suffer... O mother, if you knew how ardently I wish to become indifferent to the things of earth. What is created beauty tome? I should be exceedingly unhappy in its posses- sion. Oh, how great my heart appears when I compare it to the goods of this world, since all these united could not satisfy it. But when I consider it in relation to Jesus, how small it then seems. 1 Letter of May 8, 1888, published at the end of the Histoire dune Ame, p. 315. 2 This delay has been attributed to the opposition of M. Delatroétte, who did not cease to put forward the extreme youthfulness of the postulant, THE CARMEL OF LISIEUX 193 “How good He is to me, He who will soon be my Fiancé. How divinely lovable He is in not allowing me to become captive to anything here below. He well knows that if He sent me even one ray of earthly happiness, I would become attached to it with all the energy, all the power of my heart’s affection, and He refuses me this ray. ... He prefers to leave me in darkness rather than give me a false light which would not be His. “I do not wish creatures to possess a single atom of my love; I want to give all to Jesus, since He has made me understand that He alone is true happiness. Every- thing shall be for Him, everything. And even when I shall have nothing to give Him, as this evening, I will offer Him that nothing... .”! “* Even one ray of happiness Jesus refuses me.”” W at, then, was the great distress of soul which could diaw this cry of grief-stricken resignation from the postulant ? We know her secret privations. We realize the truth of her words when she affirms her growing indifference for the beauty of created things. But stronger and sweeter ties still bound her to her loved ones. Jesus was now preparing to cut to the quick, so that the be- trothal of Thérése, sealed in the blood of her sacrifice, would be for ever indissoluble. It will be remembered that, snortly before the de- parture of his youngest daughter for the Carmel, M. Martin had suffered his first attack of paralysis. He recovered almost completely, and it was in the spirit of joyous thankfulness that he had offered his child to God. He wrote at that time to one of his friends: ‘‘ Thérése, my little Queen, entered Carmel yesterday. God alone can claim such a sacrifice, but He helps me so powerfully that, in the midst of my tears, my heart abounds with joy.” How admirable were these dispositions, dispositions which were to carry him to the heights of heroism. One day he came to the Carmel and said to his three daughters: 1 Letter published at the end of the Histoire d’une Ame, p. 342. 13 194. ST THERESE DE L’ENFANT JESUS ‘‘ My children, I have just returned from Alengon, where I received, in the church of Notre-Dame, such wonder- ful graces and consolation that I made this prayer: ‘ My God, it is too much; yes, I am too happy. It is not possible to get to heaven in this manner; [ want to suffer something for Thee .. .’ And I offered myself . . .” The tender father did not dare to finish the sentence, but they understood. He had offered himself as a victim. Shortly afterwards, a second attack of paralysis seemed to indicate that the holocaust had been accepted. In spite of all, the feast of Thérése’s reception was an occasion of joy and happiness for the whole family, more especially for M. Martin. Thérése for the last time crossed the threshold of the cloister, arrayed in her bridal robes. To honour the King of Heaven to whom his “little Queen ”’ was about to be publicly betrothed, M. Martin wished that she should wear a dress of white velvet, bordered with swans- down and enriched with point d’Alencon. Her long fair hair fell over her shoulders in natural curls, and pure white lilies were her only ornament. “Papa was waiting for me,” she writes, ‘‘ at the enclosure door. Advancing towards me, while his eyes filled with tears, he pressed me to his heart, saying: ‘Ah, here is my little Queen.’ Then he gave me his arm, and we made our solemn entrance into the chapel. This day was his triumph, his last feast on earth. All his offerings were made; his children belonged to God. Céline having confided to him