The Superior of the Hospital d'Enghien relates that, one year, when Sister Catherine had gone with several of her companions to spend the beautiful Feast of December 8th at the Community, on getting into the omnibus that evening she fell and broke her wrist. She said not a word, and no one perceived the accident. Some minutes after, seeing that she held her arm in her handkerchief, Sister Dufès inquired what had happened. "Ah! Sister," she quietly replied, "I am holding my bouquet; every year the Blessed Virgin sends me one of this sort."
Detachment from the esteem and affection of creatures was still another trait characteristic of our dear Sister. God sufficed her; that God who had manifested Himself to her in so wonderful a manner, that Immaculate Virgin whose charms had ravished her heart, were her sole joy and delight. The Blessed Virgin, pointing to the sacred tabernacle where her divine Son reposes, had said to her: "In all your trials, my daughter, it is there you must seek consolation." Faithful to these words of her good Mother, Sister Catherine in moments of trial sought the chapel, whence she soon returned to her occupations with renewed serenity of soul and countenance ever cheerful. Jesus and Mary alone received the confidence of her sufferings and her fervor, so that her virtues in a measure were concealed from creatures.
One of the Sisters of the house says that, having often observed her closely to discover, if possible, some trace of her communications with God, she could find nothing especial except that during prayer she did not cast down her eyes, but always kept them fixed upon the image of Mary. She remarks, also, that Sister Catherine never wept except from great anguish of heart, but manytimes she saw her shed tears in abundance on listening to some traits of protection or some conversion obtained through the Blessed Virgin's intercession, or, as in 1871, at the evils afflicting the Church and France.
Solidly pious in the midst of companions apparently more so, we see nothing indeed in our humble Sister to distinguish her from others. Only one especial circumstance has been remarked, the importance she attached to the recitation of the chaplet. Let us hear what her Sister-Servant says on this point—
"We were always struck," writes Sister Dufès, "when saying the chaplet in common, with the grave and pious manner in which our dear companion pronounced the words of the Angelical Salutation. And what convinced us of the depth of her respect and devotion was the fact that she, always so humble, so reserved, could not refrain from censuring the indifference, the want of attention, which too often accompanies the recitation of a prayer, so beautiful and efficacious."
Her love for the two families of St. Vincent, far from diminishing with age, only incited her to employ continually in their behalf the sole influence at her disposal, prayer; regularly every week, she offered a Communion to attract the benediction of Heaven upon the Congregation of the Mission; her prayers for her Community were incessant.
Sister Catherine always retained the same duty at the Hospital d'Enghien; with truly admirable solicitude, she nursed the old men entrusted to her, at the same time not neglecting the pigeon house, which recalled the purest and sweetest joys of her childhood. The young girl of former days, whom we have seen with her dear pigeons hovering round her, was now a poor Sister, quite aged, but none the less attentive to her little charge.
Sister Catherine was, then, the soul of the little family in charge of the hospital. During these later years, the number of our Sisters had increased considerably, and consequently the administration of the two houses, d'Enghien and Reuilly, being very difficult for one person, an assistant was sent me for the hospital. If Sister Catherine had not for years been moulded to obedience and abnegation, it would have been hard to her quick, impulsive nature, to recognize the authority of a companion so much younger than herself; but far different were the thoughts of this humble Sister, who always endeavored to abase herself.
"She was the first to tender her perfect submission. 'Sister,' said she, 'be at ease, it suffices that our Superiors have spoken; we will receive Sister Angélique as one sent from God, and obey her as we do you.' Her conduct justified her words."Although Sister Catherine guarded rigorously the supernatural communications she had received, she occasionally expressed her views to me on actual occurrences, speaking then as if inspired by God."Thus, at the time of the Commune, she told me that I would leave the house accompanied by a certain Sister, that I would return the 31st of May, and she assured me I need have no fears, as the Blessed Virgin would take my place and guard the house. At the time, I paid very little attention to the good Sister's words."I left, indeed, and realized, contrary to my plans, and without a thought on the subject, all that Sister Catherine had predicted. On my return from the Community, May 31st, I expressed my anxiety concerning the house, which had been in the hands of the Communists, and, it was said, plundered. Sister Catherineendeavored to reassure me, repeating that the Blessed Virgin had taken care of everything, she was confident of it, for the Blessed Virgin had promised her."We found on our arrival that this Mother of mercy had, indeed, guarded and saved all, notwithstanding the long occupation of our dear house by a mob of furies, whose Satanic pleasure was to destroy."One circumstance in particular struck me most forcibly; these wretches had made useless efforts to overthrow the statue of Mary Immaculate placed in the garden—it had withstood all their sacrilegious attempts."Sister Catherine hastened to place upon the head of our august Queen the crown she had taken with her in our exile, telling the Blessed Virgin she restored it in token of gratitude."Many times did Sister Catherine thus reveal her thoughts to me with the simplicity of a child. When her predictions were not realized, she would quietly say: 'Ah! well, Sister, I was mistaken. I believed what I told you. I am very glad the truth is known.'[6]"Meanwhile, time fled, and our good Sister often spoke of her approaching end. Our venerated Superiors began to feel anxious about losing her, and the Superior General one day sent for her to come to the Community that he might receive from her own lips certain communications which he considered very important."Sister Catherine, to whom this was wholly unexpected, was almost speechless with amazement. On her return, she expressed to me her emotion, and, for the first time, opened her heart to me concerning that which she had formerly so much feared to reveal."This repugnance had vanished; seeing herself on the borders of the tomb, she felt constrained to make known the details which she thought buried with the venerated Father Aladel, and she expressed great grief that devotion to the Immaculate Conception was less lively and general than it had been."These communications, moreover, were for myself alone; I did not impart them to the other Sisters. It is true, the greater number were informed of this pious secret, but they never learned it from Sister Catherine herself. All they could observe in connexion with it was her ardent love for Mary Immaculate and her zeal for the propagation of the Miraculous Medal, also that, when she heard one of our Sisters express a desire to make the pilgrimage to Lourdes or some other privileged sanctuary of Mary, she could not refrain from saying, somewhat impetuously: 'But why do you wish to go so far? Have you not the Community? Did not the Blessed Virgin appear there as well as at Lourdes?' And a most extraordinary fact is, that, without having read any of the publications concerning this miraculous grotto, Sister Catherine was more familiar with what had taken place there than many who had made the pilgrimage. Leaving these incidents aside, never did she utter a word calculated to give the impression that shehad any part in the singular favors the Blessed Virgin had lavished upon our humble chapel at the Mother House."Since opening her heart to me, this good companion had become very affectionate; it was a rest for her, a consolation to find some one who understood her. Our worthy Father Chevalier, Assistant of the Congregation of the Mission, occasionally visited her to receive her communications concerning the apparition. One day, he spoke to her of the new edition he was preparing of the notice of the medal. 'When M. Aladel's edition of 1842 appeared,' replied Sister Catherine, 'I said to him, truly, that he would never publish another, and that I would never see another edition, because it would not be finished during my lifetime.' 'I shall catch you there,' replied M. Chevalier, who expected it to appear very soon. But unforeseen difficulties having retarded the publication, he subsequently recognized that the good Sister had spoken rightly."From the beginning of the year 1876, Sister Catherine alluded very frequently to her death; on all our feast days, she never failed to say: 'It is the last time I shall see this feast.' And when we appeared not to credit her assertion, she added: 'I shall certainly not see the year 1877.' We could not, however, believe her end so near. For some months she had been obliged to keep her bed, and relinquish that active life she had led so many years."Her strength was gradually failing; the asthma joined to some affection of the heart undermined her constitution; she felt that she was dying, but it was without a fear, we might say without emotion. One day, when speaking to her of her death: 'You are notafraid, then,' said I, 'dear Sister Catherine.' 'Afraid! Sister!' she exclaimed; 'why should I be afraid? I am going to our Lord, the Blessed Virgin, St. Vincent.'"And, truly, our dear companion had nothing to fear, for her death was as calm as her life."Several days previous, one of our Sisters was talking familiarly with her, when, without any allusion to the subject from the other, our sick Sister said: 'I shall go to Reuilly.' This was the name given the House of Providence, separated from d'Enghien Hospital by a vast garden, and similar to it in the nature of its works. 'What! to Reuilly?' answered her companion; 'you would not have the heart to do so, you who love so well your Enghien, that you have never left.' 'I tell you, I shall go to Reuilly.' 'But when?' 'Ah! that is it!' said Sister Catherine, in a decided, mysterious tone, that disconcerted her companion. After a few moments, she added: 'There will be no need of a hearse at my funeral.' 'Oh! what do you mean?' replied the Sister. 'It will not be needed,' said the sick one, emphatically. 'But why not?' 'They will put me in the chapel at Reuilly.' These words struck her companion, who repeated the conversation to me. 'Keep that to yourself,' said I."On the 31st of December, she had several spells of weakness, symptoms of her approaching end. We then proposed to her the last consolations of religion; she gratefully consented, and received the Sacraments with indescribable peace and happiness; then, at her request, we recited the litany of the Immaculate Conception."Being one day near her bed, speaking to her of Heaven and of the Blessed Virgin, she expressed a desire to have during her agony sixty-three children, eachinvoking the Blessed Virgin by one of her titles in the litany of the Immaculate Conception, and especially these very consoling words: 'Terror of demons, pray for us.' It was observed that there were not sixty-three invocations in the litany. 'You will find them in the office of the Immaculate Conception,' said she. Measures were taken to comply with her desires, the invocations were written upon slips of paper and kept for the final hour, but, just at the time of her agony, we could not collect the children; she then asked that the litany be recited, and had us repeat three times the invocation which makes hell tremble."Our Sisters were especially touched to hear her exclaim, with an accent of deep tenderness: 'My dear Community! my dear Mother House!' So true is it, that what we have loved most in life returns to us with renewed vigor at the hour of death!"Some of her former companions and friends of the House came during the day to see her for a last time; one of them, holding an office in the Seminary, approaching her, said sadly: 'Sister Catherine, are you going to leave us without telling me a word of the Blessed Virgin?' Then the dying Sister leaned towards her, and whispered softly in her ear quite a while. 'I ought not to speak,' said she; 'it is M. Chevalier who is commissioned to do that.' ... She continued, without interruption: 'The Blessed Virgin has promised to grant especial graces every time one prays in the chapel, but particularly an increase of purity, that purity of mind, heart, will, which is pure love.'"This good daughter, animated with the true primitive spirit of the Community, was, in uttering these last words, the unconscious echo of the venerable Mother Legras, whose writings breathe the same thought."A Sister-Servant, who came to visit her, approaching the sick Sister, reminded her of the necessities of the Community and of the Seminary, and ended by saying: 'Dear Sister Catherine, when you get to Heaven, do not forget all this, attend to all my commissions.' Sister Catherine answered: 'Sister, my will is good, but I have always been so stupid, so dull, I shall not know how to explain myself, for I am ignorant of the language of Heaven.' Upon which the other, delighted with so much simplicity, was inspired to say: 'Oh! my dear Sister Catherine, in Heaven we do not speak as we do on earth; the soul regards God, the good God regards the soul, and all is understood—that is the language of Heaven.' Our dear Sister's countenance became radiant at this, and she answered: 'Oh! Sister, if it is thus, be tranquil, all your commissions will be fulfilled.'"M. Chevalier came, also, that day to give her his blessing, and he spoke to her on the same subject. Sister Catherine answered him with faculties undimmed, and said to him, among other things: 'The pilgrimages the Sisters make are not favorable to piety. The Blessed Virgin did not tell me to go so far to pray; it is in the Community chapel she wishes the Sisters to invoke her, that is their true pilgrimage.'"The poor, to whom she was so devoted, likewise occupied her thoughts.——"At four in the afternoon, another attack of weakness collected us all around our dear, dying one, but the supreme moment had not yet come. We surrounded her bed until evening. At seven, she seemed to sink into a slumber, and without the least agony or the least sign of suffering, she yielded her last sigh. Scarcely could we perceive that she had ceased to live.... Never have I seen a death so calm and gentle.""The deepest emotion now filled our hearts; we pondered the celestial interview of our blessed companion with that good God who had so often revealed Himself to her during her Seminary life, and that beautiful Virgin, whose charms can never be depicted on earth."It was not sorrow which pervaded our hearts; not a tear was shed in these first moments; we yielded to an indescribable emotion; we felt ourselves near a Saint; the veil of humility under which she had lived so long concealed was now rent, that we might see in her only the soul favored by Heaven."Our Sisters disputed the happiness of passing the night beside her venerated remains, a magnetic attraction drawing them to her."To perpetuate the fact that she had received these favors whilst still a Seminary Sister, we thought of having her photograph taken, also, in the Seminary habit; it succeeded completely in both costumes."We now carried her blessed remains into the chapel. There the Immaculate Virgin watched over her; lilies and roses surrounded her virginal body, and her cherished device—'O Mary! conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee'—surrounding this little sanctuary, seemed the last echo of her life."Then commenced the miracle of glorified humility; this humble Sister, who in life had been scarcely noticed, was suddenly surrounded by persons of every age and condition, who considered it a very great happiness to come, not to pray for her, but to recommend themselves to her blessed intercession."As for us who were keeping watch around our dear relic, we could not bear to think of the moment which would take her from us. This house which had beenprotected by her presence for forty-six years, would it be deprived of her forever? The thought was heart-breaking; it seemed as if we were about to lose the protection of the Immaculate Virgin, who would henceforth cease to hover over us."On the other hand, to keep our dear Sister with us appeared impossible. Our Superiors being consulted, permitted us to take measures in accordance with our wishes. We had a world of difficulties to surmount."'Pray,' said I to our Sisters; and they passed the night supplicating the Immaculate Mary to let our beloved companion remain with us."All night long, I vainly tried to think of a suitable resting place for her, when suddenly, at the sound of the four o'clock bell, I thought I heard these words: 'The vault is under the chapel of Reuilly.' 'True enough,' said I, joyfully, like a person who suddenly sees the realization of a long deferred hope. I remembered now that, during the construction of the chapel, a vault had been made communicating with the children's refectory. Our worthy Mother Mazin had assigned to it no actual purpose, saying we might have use for it hereafter."There was no time to lose. We were on the eve of her funeral, and the authorization, so difficult to obtain, had not yet been solicited."The vault was hastily prepared, and the petition, sustained by influential persons, succeeded as if by enchantment."January 3d, the feast of St. Genevieve, was the day appointed for the interment of her, whom we regarded as the tutelary angel of our house. But the word 'interment' is not appropriate here—'triumph' is the proper expression—for it was a veritable triumph for our humble Sister."A deputation was sent from all the houses of our Sisters, that had received timely notice, and the little chapel was much too small to accommodate the numbers that came. Mass over, the funeral cortege which was to accompany the body in procession from d'Enghien Hospital to the vault at Reuilly was organized, as follows: The inmates of our industrial school, Children of Mary, came first, bearing their banner; next to these, all our little orphans; then, our young girls of the Society (both externs and those belonging to the house), wearing the livery of the Immaculate Mary; the parishioners, and lastly, our Sisters preceding the clergy."This lengthy procession passed slowly through the long garden walk, and whilst the solemn chants of the Benedictus resounded afar, the modest coffin appeared in sight, covered with lilies and eglantines, emblems of purity and simplicity."At the entrance of the vault, the crowd stood aside, and our Children of Mary greeted the arrival of the body by singing the blessed invocation: 'O Mary! conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee!' It would be impossible to describe the effect of these funeral obsequies, of a nature so entirely new."To preserve our treasure, it was necessary to wall up the subterranean entrance, but we had an opening made communicating with the chapel."The poor, whom Sister Catherine had nursed, lay a magnificent crown on the tomb of St. Vincent's humble daughter, who, in life, sought only the lowliest paths, and who had supplicated the Blessed Virgin to keep her unknown and unsought.——"
"She was the first to tender her perfect submission. 'Sister,' said she, 'be at ease, it suffices that our Superiors have spoken; we will receive Sister Angélique as one sent from God, and obey her as we do you.' Her conduct justified her words.
"Although Sister Catherine guarded rigorously the supernatural communications she had received, she occasionally expressed her views to me on actual occurrences, speaking then as if inspired by God.
"Thus, at the time of the Commune, she told me that I would leave the house accompanied by a certain Sister, that I would return the 31st of May, and she assured me I need have no fears, as the Blessed Virgin would take my place and guard the house. At the time, I paid very little attention to the good Sister's words.
"I left, indeed, and realized, contrary to my plans, and without a thought on the subject, all that Sister Catherine had predicted. On my return from the Community, May 31st, I expressed my anxiety concerning the house, which had been in the hands of the Communists, and, it was said, plundered. Sister Catherineendeavored to reassure me, repeating that the Blessed Virgin had taken care of everything, she was confident of it, for the Blessed Virgin had promised her.
"We found on our arrival that this Mother of mercy had, indeed, guarded and saved all, notwithstanding the long occupation of our dear house by a mob of furies, whose Satanic pleasure was to destroy.
"One circumstance in particular struck me most forcibly; these wretches had made useless efforts to overthrow the statue of Mary Immaculate placed in the garden—it had withstood all their sacrilegious attempts.
"Sister Catherine hastened to place upon the head of our august Queen the crown she had taken with her in our exile, telling the Blessed Virgin she restored it in token of gratitude.
"Many times did Sister Catherine thus reveal her thoughts to me with the simplicity of a child. When her predictions were not realized, she would quietly say: 'Ah! well, Sister, I was mistaken. I believed what I told you. I am very glad the truth is known.'[6]
"Meanwhile, time fled, and our good Sister often spoke of her approaching end. Our venerated Superiors began to feel anxious about losing her, and the Superior General one day sent for her to come to the Community that he might receive from her own lips certain communications which he considered very important.
"Sister Catherine, to whom this was wholly unexpected, was almost speechless with amazement. On her return, she expressed to me her emotion, and, for the first time, opened her heart to me concerning that which she had formerly so much feared to reveal.
"This repugnance had vanished; seeing herself on the borders of the tomb, she felt constrained to make known the details which she thought buried with the venerated Father Aladel, and she expressed great grief that devotion to the Immaculate Conception was less lively and general than it had been.
"These communications, moreover, were for myself alone; I did not impart them to the other Sisters. It is true, the greater number were informed of this pious secret, but they never learned it from Sister Catherine herself. All they could observe in connexion with it was her ardent love for Mary Immaculate and her zeal for the propagation of the Miraculous Medal, also that, when she heard one of our Sisters express a desire to make the pilgrimage to Lourdes or some other privileged sanctuary of Mary, she could not refrain from saying, somewhat impetuously: 'But why do you wish to go so far? Have you not the Community? Did not the Blessed Virgin appear there as well as at Lourdes?' And a most extraordinary fact is, that, without having read any of the publications concerning this miraculous grotto, Sister Catherine was more familiar with what had taken place there than many who had made the pilgrimage. Leaving these incidents aside, never did she utter a word calculated to give the impression that shehad any part in the singular favors the Blessed Virgin had lavished upon our humble chapel at the Mother House.
"Since opening her heart to me, this good companion had become very affectionate; it was a rest for her, a consolation to find some one who understood her. Our worthy Father Chevalier, Assistant of the Congregation of the Mission, occasionally visited her to receive her communications concerning the apparition. One day, he spoke to her of the new edition he was preparing of the notice of the medal. 'When M. Aladel's edition of 1842 appeared,' replied Sister Catherine, 'I said to him, truly, that he would never publish another, and that I would never see another edition, because it would not be finished during my lifetime.' 'I shall catch you there,' replied M. Chevalier, who expected it to appear very soon. But unforeseen difficulties having retarded the publication, he subsequently recognized that the good Sister had spoken rightly.
"From the beginning of the year 1876, Sister Catherine alluded very frequently to her death; on all our feast days, she never failed to say: 'It is the last time I shall see this feast.' And when we appeared not to credit her assertion, she added: 'I shall certainly not see the year 1877.' We could not, however, believe her end so near. For some months she had been obliged to keep her bed, and relinquish that active life she had led so many years.
"Her strength was gradually failing; the asthma joined to some affection of the heart undermined her constitution; she felt that she was dying, but it was without a fear, we might say without emotion. One day, when speaking to her of her death: 'You are notafraid, then,' said I, 'dear Sister Catherine.' 'Afraid! Sister!' she exclaimed; 'why should I be afraid? I am going to our Lord, the Blessed Virgin, St. Vincent.'
"And, truly, our dear companion had nothing to fear, for her death was as calm as her life.
"Several days previous, one of our Sisters was talking familiarly with her, when, without any allusion to the subject from the other, our sick Sister said: 'I shall go to Reuilly.' This was the name given the House of Providence, separated from d'Enghien Hospital by a vast garden, and similar to it in the nature of its works. 'What! to Reuilly?' answered her companion; 'you would not have the heart to do so, you who love so well your Enghien, that you have never left.' 'I tell you, I shall go to Reuilly.' 'But when?' 'Ah! that is it!' said Sister Catherine, in a decided, mysterious tone, that disconcerted her companion. After a few moments, she added: 'There will be no need of a hearse at my funeral.' 'Oh! what do you mean?' replied the Sister. 'It will not be needed,' said the sick one, emphatically. 'But why not?' 'They will put me in the chapel at Reuilly.' These words struck her companion, who repeated the conversation to me. 'Keep that to yourself,' said I.
"On the 31st of December, she had several spells of weakness, symptoms of her approaching end. We then proposed to her the last consolations of religion; she gratefully consented, and received the Sacraments with indescribable peace and happiness; then, at her request, we recited the litany of the Immaculate Conception.
"Being one day near her bed, speaking to her of Heaven and of the Blessed Virgin, she expressed a desire to have during her agony sixty-three children, eachinvoking the Blessed Virgin by one of her titles in the litany of the Immaculate Conception, and especially these very consoling words: 'Terror of demons, pray for us.' It was observed that there were not sixty-three invocations in the litany. 'You will find them in the office of the Immaculate Conception,' said she. Measures were taken to comply with her desires, the invocations were written upon slips of paper and kept for the final hour, but, just at the time of her agony, we could not collect the children; she then asked that the litany be recited, and had us repeat three times the invocation which makes hell tremble.
"Our Sisters were especially touched to hear her exclaim, with an accent of deep tenderness: 'My dear Community! my dear Mother House!' So true is it, that what we have loved most in life returns to us with renewed vigor at the hour of death!
"Some of her former companions and friends of the House came during the day to see her for a last time; one of them, holding an office in the Seminary, approaching her, said sadly: 'Sister Catherine, are you going to leave us without telling me a word of the Blessed Virgin?' Then the dying Sister leaned towards her, and whispered softly in her ear quite a while. 'I ought not to speak,' said she; 'it is M. Chevalier who is commissioned to do that.' ... She continued, without interruption: 'The Blessed Virgin has promised to grant especial graces every time one prays in the chapel, but particularly an increase of purity, that purity of mind, heart, will, which is pure love.'
"This good daughter, animated with the true primitive spirit of the Community, was, in uttering these last words, the unconscious echo of the venerable Mother Legras, whose writings breathe the same thought.
"A Sister-Servant, who came to visit her, approaching the sick Sister, reminded her of the necessities of the Community and of the Seminary, and ended by saying: 'Dear Sister Catherine, when you get to Heaven, do not forget all this, attend to all my commissions.' Sister Catherine answered: 'Sister, my will is good, but I have always been so stupid, so dull, I shall not know how to explain myself, for I am ignorant of the language of Heaven.' Upon which the other, delighted with so much simplicity, was inspired to say: 'Oh! my dear Sister Catherine, in Heaven we do not speak as we do on earth; the soul regards God, the good God regards the soul, and all is understood—that is the language of Heaven.' Our dear Sister's countenance became radiant at this, and she answered: 'Oh! Sister, if it is thus, be tranquil, all your commissions will be fulfilled.'
"M. Chevalier came, also, that day to give her his blessing, and he spoke to her on the same subject. Sister Catherine answered him with faculties undimmed, and said to him, among other things: 'The pilgrimages the Sisters make are not favorable to piety. The Blessed Virgin did not tell me to go so far to pray; it is in the Community chapel she wishes the Sisters to invoke her, that is their true pilgrimage.'
"The poor, to whom she was so devoted, likewise occupied her thoughts.——
"At four in the afternoon, another attack of weakness collected us all around our dear, dying one, but the supreme moment had not yet come. We surrounded her bed until evening. At seven, she seemed to sink into a slumber, and without the least agony or the least sign of suffering, she yielded her last sigh. Scarcely could we perceive that she had ceased to live.... Never have I seen a death so calm and gentle."
"The deepest emotion now filled our hearts; we pondered the celestial interview of our blessed companion with that good God who had so often revealed Himself to her during her Seminary life, and that beautiful Virgin, whose charms can never be depicted on earth.
"It was not sorrow which pervaded our hearts; not a tear was shed in these first moments; we yielded to an indescribable emotion; we felt ourselves near a Saint; the veil of humility under which she had lived so long concealed was now rent, that we might see in her only the soul favored by Heaven.
"Our Sisters disputed the happiness of passing the night beside her venerated remains, a magnetic attraction drawing them to her.
"To perpetuate the fact that she had received these favors whilst still a Seminary Sister, we thought of having her photograph taken, also, in the Seminary habit; it succeeded completely in both costumes.
"We now carried her blessed remains into the chapel. There the Immaculate Virgin watched over her; lilies and roses surrounded her virginal body, and her cherished device—'O Mary! conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee'—surrounding this little sanctuary, seemed the last echo of her life.
"Then commenced the miracle of glorified humility; this humble Sister, who in life had been scarcely noticed, was suddenly surrounded by persons of every age and condition, who considered it a very great happiness to come, not to pray for her, but to recommend themselves to her blessed intercession.
"As for us who were keeping watch around our dear relic, we could not bear to think of the moment which would take her from us. This house which had beenprotected by her presence for forty-six years, would it be deprived of her forever? The thought was heart-breaking; it seemed as if we were about to lose the protection of the Immaculate Virgin, who would henceforth cease to hover over us.
"On the other hand, to keep our dear Sister with us appeared impossible. Our Superiors being consulted, permitted us to take measures in accordance with our wishes. We had a world of difficulties to surmount.
"'Pray,' said I to our Sisters; and they passed the night supplicating the Immaculate Mary to let our beloved companion remain with us.
"All night long, I vainly tried to think of a suitable resting place for her, when suddenly, at the sound of the four o'clock bell, I thought I heard these words: 'The vault is under the chapel of Reuilly.' 'True enough,' said I, joyfully, like a person who suddenly sees the realization of a long deferred hope. I remembered now that, during the construction of the chapel, a vault had been made communicating with the children's refectory. Our worthy Mother Mazin had assigned to it no actual purpose, saying we might have use for it hereafter.
"There was no time to lose. We were on the eve of her funeral, and the authorization, so difficult to obtain, had not yet been solicited.
"The vault was hastily prepared, and the petition, sustained by influential persons, succeeded as if by enchantment.
"January 3d, the feast of St. Genevieve, was the day appointed for the interment of her, whom we regarded as the tutelary angel of our house. But the word 'interment' is not appropriate here—'triumph' is the proper expression—for it was a veritable triumph for our humble Sister.
"A deputation was sent from all the houses of our Sisters, that had received timely notice, and the little chapel was much too small to accommodate the numbers that came. Mass over, the funeral cortege which was to accompany the body in procession from d'Enghien Hospital to the vault at Reuilly was organized, as follows: The inmates of our industrial school, Children of Mary, came first, bearing their banner; next to these, all our little orphans; then, our young girls of the Society (both externs and those belonging to the house), wearing the livery of the Immaculate Mary; the parishioners, and lastly, our Sisters preceding the clergy.
"This lengthy procession passed slowly through the long garden walk, and whilst the solemn chants of the Benedictus resounded afar, the modest coffin appeared in sight, covered with lilies and eglantines, emblems of purity and simplicity.
"At the entrance of the vault, the crowd stood aside, and our Children of Mary greeted the arrival of the body by singing the blessed invocation: 'O Mary! conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee!' It would be impossible to describe the effect of these funeral obsequies, of a nature so entirely new.
"To preserve our treasure, it was necessary to wall up the subterranean entrance, but we had an opening made communicating with the chapel.
"The poor, whom Sister Catherine had nursed, lay a magnificent crown on the tomb of St. Vincent's humble daughter, who, in life, sought only the lowliest paths, and who had supplicated the Blessed Virgin to keep her unknown and unsought.——"
The life of dear Sister Labouré was the faithful realization of Our Lord's words in the Gospel: "I returnThee thanks, Father, that Thou hast concealed these things from the wise of this world and hast revealed them to little ones." Never were the gifts of God better concealed in a soul, under the double mantle of humility and simplicity.
For forty-six years did she lead a life of obscurity and toil, seeking no other satisfaction than that of pleasing God; she sanctified herself in the lowliest paths by a faithful correspondence to grace, and an exact compliance with the practices of a Community life. The favors she received from Heaven never filled her heart with pride; witness of the wonders daily wrought by the medal, she never uttered a word that might lead others to suspect how much more she knew about it than any one else.
Might we not say, she had chosen for her motto these words of À Kempis: "Love to be unknown and accounted as nothing?" How faithfully these traits portray the true daughter of the humble Vincent de Paul!
What, in Heaven, must be the glory of those whose earthly life was one of self-abasement? Do we not already perceive a faint radiance of this glory? The obsequies of the humble servant of the poor resembled a triumph; by an almost unheard of exception, her body remains in the midst of her spiritual family; her tomb is visited by persons of every condition, who, with confidence, recommend themselves to her intercession, and many of whom assure us that their petitions have been granted. In fine, this biographical notice discloses what Sister Catherine so carefully concealed, and thus accomplishes Our Lord's promise: "He who humbleth himself, shall be exalted."
Mary's Agency in the Church.
THIS AGENCY, EVER MANIFEST, SEEMS TO HAVE DISAPPEARED DURING THE EIGHTEENTH AND IN THE BEGINNING OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY—MARY APPEARS IN 1830—MOTIVES AND IMPORTANCE OF THIS APPARITION—THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION.
Devotion to the most Blessed Virgin is as ancient as Christianity, and we find traces of it from the very origin of the Church, among all nations who accepted the Gospel. During the first ages, it was concealed in the obscurity of the catacombs, or veiled itself under symbolical forms to escape the profanation of infidels; but when the era of peace succeeded that of bloody persecutions, it reappeared openly and in all the brilliancy of its ravishing beauty. It developed a wonderful growth, especially in the fifth century, after the Council ofEphesus had proclaimed the divine maternity of Mary, thereby sanctioning the exceptional homages rendered her above all the saints.
The image of the Virgin Mother, circulated throughout Christendom, becomes the ornament of churches, the protection of the fireside, and an object of devotion to the faithful. It is at this epoch, especially, we see everywhere gradually disappearing the last vestiges of paganism. The Immaculate Virgin, the Mother of tenderness, the Queen of Angels, the Patroness of regenerated humanity, supplants those vain idols, which for ages had fostered superstition, with its train of vices and errors.
Every Catholic admits that the Church's veneration of Mary rests upon an inviolable foundation—both faith and reason unite in justifying it. Events have proved that God Himself has authorized it, for it has often pleased Him to recompense the confidence and fidelity of her servants, by sensible marks of His power, by extraordinary graces—in a word, by true miracles. By a disposition of His Providence, He has decreed Mary's intervention in the economy of the Church and the sanctification of souls, as He did in the mysteries of the Incarnation and Redemption. Her character of Mediatrix between Heaven and earth obliges her to make this agency felt, to display the power she has received in favor of man. These manifestations of the Blessed Virgin in the Church, these marvelous proofs of her solicitude for us, form an interesting portion of the history of Catholicity. The liturgy is full of such souvenirs, and several feasts have been instituted to commemorate them. Christian countries abound in traditions of this nature; they are one of the sources whence piety derives its nourishment.
The majority of pilgrim shrines owe their origin to some supernatural intervention of the Blessed Virgin. Sometimes she has manifested herself under a visible form, most frequently to a poor shepherd or peasant; again, she has wrought a miracle, as the recovery of a sick person, the conversion of a hardened sinner, or some other prodigy betokening the power of a supernatural agency. Sometimes, a statue, a picture, apparently not fashioned by the hand of man, is accidentally discovered; the neighboring population are touched, their faith is reanimated, and soon a shrine, a chapel, or even a splendid basilica, is erected to protect this gift of Heaven, this pledge of Mary's affection. Innumerable generations repair to the spot, and new favors, new miracles, ineffable consolations, ever attest the tutelary guardianship of her, whom humble, confiding hearts have never invoked in vain. We might cite hundreds of names in support of these assertions.
The history of devotion to Mary in Catholic countries gives rise to an observation worthy of remark, that the faith of a country is in proportion to its devotion to the Blessed Virgin. We can also add that, when God wishes to revive the Faith among any people, He commissions Mary to manifest there her goodness and power.
Every age has furnished the Church with constantly increasing proofs of Mary's mediation; there are epochs in which she seems to be so lavish of her presence, that we might say she lives familiarly among mankind, and that her delights are to converse with them.
Again, on the contrary, she appears to retire, to hold herself aloof from the world, to give no more signs of her intervention. We have a striking example of this ina somewhat recent age. More than a century do we find deprived of Mary's sensible mediation; history records in all that period not one of these apparitions, not a new pilgrim shrine founded, not a signal grace obtained through the intercession of the Mother of Mercy. If a few events of this kind took place, they were at least very rare, and have remained in obscurity. This age, forsaken by the Blessed Virgin, was the eighteenth century, to which we must add the first thirty years of the nineteenth.
At this epoch, when impious rationalism endeavored to efface all idea of the supernatural, when the most firmly established truths were attacked, when among Christians the standard of virtue was lowered and character was of slight esteem in any class or station of society, we might believe that Mary, fatigued with men's ingratitude, had resolved to leave them to their own devices, and let them govern the world according to their ideas of assumed wisdom. She did, in reality, not renounce her mission of Mediatrix in favor of the Church, she still watched over her great adopted family, she listened to the prayers of her faithful servants, but she remained invisible, she no longer displayed any of those marks of tenderness her maternal heart had lavished upon them in the ages of faith.
We know the consequences of Mary's abandoning the earth, and how these sages who wished to dispense with God governed society. The history of their reign is written in letters of fire, of blood and of filth.
This revolutionary and impious naturalism was prolonged into the nineteenth century; it still exerts a deplorable influence at the present day, but it encounters opposition; the supernatural order is firmly asserted, thetruths of Faith are warmly defended, the holy Church is respected and obeyed, its august Head is held in veneration to the very extremities of the earth, God's kingdom is still opposed, but it numbers devoted subjects, who, if needful, would shed their blood in its defence. Indifference, human respect, jeering scepticism, are gradually disappearing, leaving the Church with only sincere friends or declared enemies. It is a progress no one can ignore.
Whence comes this change? and what the date of so consoling a resurrection? Beyond a doubt, it owes its origin to God's infinite bounty—but the instrument, can it be ignored or contemned? Is it not the Blessed Virgin Mary? Has not her mediation been visible for forty years? Yes; it is Mary who has wrought this astonishing transformation, and through the medal styled miraculous has this series of wonders been inaugurated.
In 1830, does Mary for the first time, after an interval of a century and a half, manifest her desire of a reconciliation with earth.
It is the first sign of pardon she accords man, after her long silence.
It is the announcement of a new era which is about to commence.
The apparition of November 27th, in the chapel of the Mother House of the Daughters of Charity, Paris, appears, at first, to be of little importance, yet it was destined to have an immense bearing upon the future and its consequences were to be incalculable. Like a stream whose source is concealed at the foot of a mountain, but which receives as it advances numberless tributaries, and finally becomes a majestic river, fertilizingthe provinces and kingdoms through which it flows; so the vision of the medal has been the initiatory step in a religious movement, which, to-day, extends throughout the world, sitting in justice upon old errors, superannuated prejudices; systems inimical to truth, and fully revealing the true Church and true sanctity, rendering to Mary Immaculate, Mother of God and Mother of men, such tributes of veneration, love and devotion, as she has never received since the preaching of the Gospel.
The reader is already acquainted with Sister Catherine, the humble daughter whom Mary deigned to select for her confidante. The following chapter gives a detailed account of the apparitions.
We have said that this event was the dawn of a new era, the signal of renewed devotion to Mary throughout the world. It seemed as if this tender Mother wished, by lavishing extraordinary graces upon her children, to make them forget the severity with which she had punished their offences.
A rapid glance at the development of devotion to Mary, during half a century, will suffice to show the truth of this affirmation.
The medal, scarcely struck, is circulated by millions; it immediately becomes the instrument of so many cures and conversions, that it is universally styled the Miraculous Medal, a name which clung to it, and which is justified by the constant working of new miracles, as the second part of this book will show. But this medal was destined not only to work miracles, it had an object still higher, it had a dogmatical signification, it was to popularize the belief in the Immaculate Conception of Mary.
As far as is possible for us to penetrate the adorable designs of Providence, everything inclines us to believe that the Immaculate Conception is one of those truthswhose proclamation is interwoven with the welfare of modern society, and whose influence upon Catholicity is incalculable. It is the complement of the Blessed Virgin's glory; even with the incomparable prerogative of her divine maternity, her grandeur would still lack something, were she not proclaimed free from original sin. The germ contained in the Holy Scriptures, preserved by tradition, taught by the Fathers and holy Doctors, supported by the Roman pontiffs, solemnized from the earliest ages in many churches, adopted instinctively by the piety of the faithful, and depicted under most graceful forms by brush and chisel of Christian artist, this belief received, through the medal, the seal of a popular devotion. The prayer revealed by the Blessed Virgin herself: "O Mary! conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee!" this prayer, repeated incessantly by numberless mouths from infancy to old age, by poor and rich, and in every quarter of the globe, entered as a formula into the practices of a Christian life, and hastened, we might safely say, the day when Pius IX was to declare the Immaculate Conception an article of faith.
The wonderful circulation of the medal, and the miracles wrought by means of it, would soon have made the chapel of the rue du Bac a much frequented pilgrim shrine, as many who were indebted to Mary for their cure or conversion wished to testify their gratitude by leaving there ex-voto offerings. But the Superiors of the Community deemed it inadvisable to allow this. However, Divine Providence, wishing to maintain this pious impulse, opened in the very centre of Paris a sanctuary, to receive what the chapel of the Daughters of Charity had refused.
The pastor of Notre-Dame-des-Victoires, M. Desgenettes, who had taken a lively interest in the apparition of 1830, was inspired to consecrate his parish to the holy and immaculate Heart of Mary. An Arch confraternity was established for the conversion of sinners; the success was as rapid as it was wonderful, and soon the whole world resounded with accounts of the miracles accorded the associates' prayers. To remind them that Notre-Dame-des-Victoires is allied with the vision of the Sister of St. Vincent de Paul, an article of their rule enjoins them to wear, with respect and devotion, the indulgenced medal of the Immaculate Conception, known as the Miraculous Medal, and they are advised to recite occasionally the prayer engraven upon that medal: "O Mary! conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee!"
Some years later, in 1846, the Blessed Virgin manifests herself upon the mountain at La Salette to two little shepherd children, charging them to warn mankind of the necessity of doing penance in order to avert the impending evils.
At Lourdes, in 1858, Mary appears to a poor and ignorant young girl; she tells her name, calling herself by that which is most dear to her: "I am the Immaculate Conception," and she promises abundant benedictions to all who come to pray in that favored place.
In 1871, she appears in the village of Pontmain to some children; she comes to revive their drooping courage and restore hope to their fainting hearts.
It would take too long to enumerate these manifestations of Mary in various parts of Christendom—those images which seem animated; those mysterious voices which warn, which encourage the world; those supernatural revelations to privileged souls—all, we might say, favors of a tender Mother, who pardons her guilty children, and who wishes by multiplied tokens of her love to make them oblivious of her past severity.
To so many marks of the Immaculate Mary's tenderness, the Catholic world has responded by an admirable outburst of filial piety; each year sees hundreds of thousands of pilgrims seeking her privileged sanctuaries; her Feasts are celebrated with admirable splendor; devotion to her is clothed in every form capable of expressing admiration, gratitude and tenderness. Who could enumerate the churches and monuments everywhere erected in her honor, the associations established under her invocation, the books composed in her praises?
But the homage which eclipses all others, is the definition of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception in 1854. This definition, ardently desired by the devout faithful, enthusiastically welcomed by the whole world, was the grand thought of Pius IX after his elevation to the chair of St. Peter, and it will be recorded in history as the crowning event of his Pontificate, already illustrious for so many other causes.
Mary, by this, has received from her children all the glory it was in their power to procure her; her prerogatives appear in all their lustre; she is acknowledged as sovereign mistress of Heaven and earth; she occupies in the economy of religion the true place Divine wisdom has assigned her. Let us hope she will soon display to the world the effects of her powerful protection, that she will crush the infernal serpent's head, that she will calm the storms hell has unchained—in fine, that she will assure the triumph of the Church and the reign of Jesus Christ in justice and truth.
APPARITIONS OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN
TO SISTER CATHERINE.
FIRST APPARITION: THE ANGEL CONDUCTS THE SISTER TO THE CHAPEL; MARY CONVERSES WITH HER—SECOND APPARITION: MARY UPON A GLOBE, HER HANDS EMITTING RAYS OF LIGHT, SYMBOLIC OF GRACE; MARY ORDERS A MEDAL TO BE STRUCK—THIRD APPARITION: MARY RENEWS THE COMMAND.
When Sister Catherine was favored with these apparitions of the Blessed Virgin she related by word of mouth to her Director, what she had seen and heard, and he, though apparently attaching little importance to her communications, carefully took note of them. The Sister never thought of writing them, she judgedherself incapable of doing so, and, moreover, in her opinion, it would have been contrary to humility.
In 1856, when events had confirmed the truth of her predictions, M. Aladel told her to commit to writing all she could recollect of the supernatural visitations of 1830. She obeyed, despite her repugnance, and sketched an account of her vision of St. Vincent's heart, which we have already read, and that of the apparitions of the Blessed Virgin.
In obedience, she again wrote in 1876, an account of these same apparitions.
Finally, another copy, not dated, was found among her papers after death.
These three narrations accord perfectly in the main, yet differ sufficiently in detail to prove that one was not copied from the other.
To these manuscripts, in which no change has been made, except a correction of faults in style and orthography, are we indebted for the following account of the apparitions.
It is to be regretted that M. Aladel's notes should have been almost entirely destroyed; no doubt they contained very interesting details, but what portion of them remains, is of little importance.
Before quoting Sister Catherine's own narration, we must remark, that the first vision, having little reference to anything but the Sister herself and St. Vincent's two Communities, M. Aladel did not deem it advisable to have published; also, that although the account of the vision of the medal in the first editions of the notice, seems to differ notably from that related by the Sister, we will see later how these discrepancies can be explained, and that in the main the two versions are identical.
FIRST APPARITION OF THE BLESSED VIRGINTo Sister Catherine Labouré, Daughter of Charity. After a picture painted from instructions given by Sister Catherine.(See the explanation at the list of engravings.)
FIRST APPARITION OF THE BLESSED VIRGINTo Sister Catherine Labouré, Daughter of Charity. After a picture painted from instructions given by Sister Catherine.(See the explanation at the list of engravings.)
Sister Catherine, already favored with celestial visions, ardently desired, with all the simplicity of her nature, to see the Blessed Virgin. To obtain this grace, she invoked her good Angel, St. Vincent, and the Blessed Virgin herself.
On the 18th of July, 1830, eve of the Feast of St. Vincent de Paul, the Directress of the Seminary gave an instruction on devotion to the Saints and the Blessed Virgin; this but inflamed our Sister's pious desire. Fully imbued with the thought, she retired for the night, recommending herself to her blessed Father, St. Vincent, and confidently believing that her prayers would be answered.
About half-past eleven o'clock, she hears her name, "Sister Labouré," distinctly called three times; suddenly awaking, she opens her curtain on the side whence the voice proceeds, and what does she perceive? A little child of ravishing beauty, four or five years of age, dressed in white and enveloped in the radiant light beaming from his fair hair and noble person. "Come," said he, in a melodious voice, "come to the chapel, the Blessed Virgin awaits you." But, thought Sister Catherine (she slept in a large dormitory), the others will hear me, I shall be discovered. "Have no fears," said the child, answering her thought, "it is half-past eleven, everybody is asleep, I will accompany you."
At these words, no longer able to resist the invitation of her amiable guide, Sister Catherine dresses hastily and follows the child, who walks always at her left, illuming the places through which he passes; and everywhere along their path, to the Sister's great astonishment, does she find the lamps lighted. Her surprise redoubles, on seeing the door open at the child's touch,and on finding the altar resplendent with lights, "reminding her," she said, "of the midnight Mass."
The child conducts her into the sanctuary; here she kneels, whilst her celestial guide remains standing a little behind at her left.
The moments of waiting seem long to Sister Catherine; at last, about midnight, the child says to her: "Behold the Blessed Virgin, behold her!" At that instant, she distinctly hears on the right hand side of the chapel, a slight noise, like the rustling of a silk robe; a most beautiful lady enters the sanctuary, and takes her seat in the place ordinarily occupied by the Director of the Community, on the left side of the sanctuary. The seat, the attitude, the costume (a white robe of a golden tinge and a blue veil), strongly resemble the representation of St. Anne in the picture adorning the sanctuary. Yet it is not the same countenance, and Sister Catherine is struggling interiorly against doubt. Can this indeed be the Blessed Virgin? she asks herself. Suddenly, the little child, assuming the voice of a man, speaks aloud, and in severe words asks her if the Queen of Heaven may not appear to a poor mortal under whatever form she pleases.
Her doubts all vanish, and following only the impulses of her heart, the Sister throws herself at the Blessed Virgin's feet, familiarly placing her hands upon the Blessed Virgin's knees, like a child beside its mother.
"At this moment," said she, "I felt the sweetest emotion of my life, it would be impossible for me to express it. The Blessed Virgin told me how I must act in all my trials; and pointing with her left hand to the foot of the altar, she told me it was there I must come and lay open my heart, adding that it was there I wouldreceive all needful consolation. Then she also said to me: 'My child, I am going to charge you with a mission; you will suffer many trials on account of it, but you will surmount them, knowing that you endure them for the glory of the good God. You will be contradicted, but you will be sustained by grace, do not fear; with simplicity and confidence, tell all that passes within you to him who is charged with the care of your soul. You will see certain things, you will be inspired in your prayers, give an account to him.'"I then asked the Blessed Virgin for an explanation of what she had already shown me. She answered: 'My child, the times are very disastrous, great trials are about to come upon France, the throne will be overturned, the entire world will be in confusion by reason of miseries of every kind.' (The Blessed Virgin looked very sad in saying this.) 'But come to the foot of this altar, here graces will be shed upon all—upon all who ask for them with confidence and fervor."'At a certain time the danger will be great indeed, it will seem as if all were lost, but do not fear, I shall be with you; you will acknowledge my visit, the protection of God and that of St. Vincent upon the two Communities. Have confidence, do not be discouraged, you are in my especial keeping."'There will be victims in other Communities.' (Tears were in the Blessed Virgin's eyes as she said this.) 'Among the clergy of Paris there will be victims, Mgr. the Archbishop will die.' (At these words her tears flowed anew.) 'My child, the cross will be despised, it will be trampled under foot, our Lord's side will be opened anew, the streets will flow with blood, the entire world will be in tribulation.'" (Here the Blessed Virgin could no longer speak, grief was depicted in her countenance.) At these words Sister Catherine thought, when will this take place? And an interior light distinctly indicated to her in forty years.
"At this moment," said she, "I felt the sweetest emotion of my life, it would be impossible for me to express it. The Blessed Virgin told me how I must act in all my trials; and pointing with her left hand to the foot of the altar, she told me it was there I must come and lay open my heart, adding that it was there I wouldreceive all needful consolation. Then she also said to me: 'My child, I am going to charge you with a mission; you will suffer many trials on account of it, but you will surmount them, knowing that you endure them for the glory of the good God. You will be contradicted, but you will be sustained by grace, do not fear; with simplicity and confidence, tell all that passes within you to him who is charged with the care of your soul. You will see certain things, you will be inspired in your prayers, give an account to him.'
"I then asked the Blessed Virgin for an explanation of what she had already shown me. She answered: 'My child, the times are very disastrous, great trials are about to come upon France, the throne will be overturned, the entire world will be in confusion by reason of miseries of every kind.' (The Blessed Virgin looked very sad in saying this.) 'But come to the foot of this altar, here graces will be shed upon all—upon all who ask for them with confidence and fervor.
"'At a certain time the danger will be great indeed, it will seem as if all were lost, but do not fear, I shall be with you; you will acknowledge my visit, the protection of God and that of St. Vincent upon the two Communities. Have confidence, do not be discouraged, you are in my especial keeping.
"'There will be victims in other Communities.' (Tears were in the Blessed Virgin's eyes as she said this.) 'Among the clergy of Paris there will be victims, Mgr. the Archbishop will die.' (At these words her tears flowed anew.) 'My child, the cross will be despised, it will be trampled under foot, our Lord's side will be opened anew, the streets will flow with blood, the entire world will be in tribulation.'" (Here the Blessed Virgin could no longer speak, grief was depicted in her countenance.) At these words Sister Catherine thought, when will this take place? And an interior light distinctly indicated to her in forty years.
Another version, also written by her own hand, says forty years, then ten, after which, peace. In connexion with this M. Aladel said to her:
"Will you and I see the accomplishment of all these things?" "If we do not, others will," replied the simple daughter.
"Will you and I see the accomplishment of all these things?" "If we do not, others will," replied the simple daughter.
The Blessed Virgin also entrusted her with several communications for her Director concerning the Daughters of Charity, and told her that he would one day be clothed with the necessary authority for putting them in execution.[7]After this, she said again: "But great troubles will come, the danger will be imminent, yet do not fear, St. Vincent will watch over you, and the protection of God is always here in a particular manner." (The Blessed Virgin still looked very sad.) "I will be with you myself, I will always keep my eye upon you, and I will enrich you with many graces." The Sister adds: "Graces will be bestowed, particularly upon all who ask for them, but they must pray, they must pray.——
"I could not tell," continues the Sister, "how long I remained with the Blessed Virgin; all I can say is that, after talking with me a long time, she disappeared like a shadow that vanishes."
"I could not tell," continues the Sister, "how long I remained with the Blessed Virgin; all I can say is that, after talking with me a long time, she disappeared like a shadow that vanishes."
On arising from her knees, Sister Catherine perceived the child just where she had left him, to throw herself at the Blessed Virgin's feet. He said: "She has gone," and, all resplendent with light as before, he stationedhimself anew at her left hand, and conducted her back to the dormitory by the same paths as they had come.
"I believe," continues the narration, "that this child was my Guardian Angel, because I had fervently implored him to procure me the favor of seeing the Blessed Virgin.... Returned to my bed, I heard the clock strike two, and I went to sleep no more."
"I believe," continues the narration, "that this child was my Guardian Angel, because I had fervently implored him to procure me the favor of seeing the Blessed Virgin.... Returned to my bed, I heard the clock strike two, and I went to sleep no more."
What has just been recounted was only a part of Sister Catherine's mission, or rather a preparation for a future mission to be given her as a pledge of the Immaculate Mary's tenderness for the human race.
In the month of November of this same year, 1830, Sister Catherine communicates to M. Aladel a new vision; but it is no longer that of an afflicted Mother weeping over the evils menacing her children, or the martyrdom of her dearest friends. This vision recalls the rainbow appearing in a sky still black with storms, or the star shining through the tempest to inspire the mariner with confidence—it is the Virgin Queen, bearing the promise of benediction, salvation and peace.
M. Aladel relates this to the Promoter of the diocese, and we find it inserted in the verbal process of the investigation, dated February 16, 1836, as follows:
"At half-past five in the evening, whilst the Sisters were in the chapel taking their meditation, the Blessed Virgin appeared to a young Sister as if in an oval picture; she was standing on a globe, only one-half of which was visible; she was clothed in a white robe and a mantle of shining blue, having her hands covered, as it were, with diamonds, whence emanated luminous rays falling upon the earth, but more abundantly upon one portion of it."A voice seemed to say: 'These rays are symbolic of the graces Mary obtains for men, and the point upon which they fall most abundantly is France.' Around the picture, written in golden letters, were these words: 'O Mary! conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee!' This prayer, traced in a semi-circle, began at the Blessed Virgin's right hand, and, passing over her head, terminated at her left hand. The reverse of the picture bore the letter M surmounted by a cross, having a bar at its base, and beneath the monogram of Mary, were the hearts of Jesus and Mary, the first surrounded with a crown of thorns, the other transpierced with a sword. Then she seemed to hear these words: 'A medal must be struck upon this model; those who wear it indulgenced, and repeat this prayer with devotion, will be, in an especial manner, under the protection of the Mother of God.' At that instant, the vision disappeared."
"At half-past five in the evening, whilst the Sisters were in the chapel taking their meditation, the Blessed Virgin appeared to a young Sister as if in an oval picture; she was standing on a globe, only one-half of which was visible; she was clothed in a white robe and a mantle of shining blue, having her hands covered, as it were, with diamonds, whence emanated luminous rays falling upon the earth, but more abundantly upon one portion of it.
"A voice seemed to say: 'These rays are symbolic of the graces Mary obtains for men, and the point upon which they fall most abundantly is France.' Around the picture, written in golden letters, were these words: 'O Mary! conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee!' This prayer, traced in a semi-circle, began at the Blessed Virgin's right hand, and, passing over her head, terminated at her left hand. The reverse of the picture bore the letter M surmounted by a cross, having a bar at its base, and beneath the monogram of Mary, were the hearts of Jesus and Mary, the first surrounded with a crown of thorns, the other transpierced with a sword. Then she seemed to hear these words: 'A medal must be struck upon this model; those who wear it indulgenced, and repeat this prayer with devotion, will be, in an especial manner, under the protection of the Mother of God.' At that instant, the vision disappeared."
According to the testimony of Sister Catherine's Director, this apparition appeared several times in the course of a few months, always in the chapel of the Mother House of the Daughters of Charity, either during Mass or some of the religious exercises. M. Aladel adds that he was not certain as to their number, but he knows they were repeated thrice, at least, the Sister having mentioned it three different times.
Here is the account written by the Sister's own hand:
"The 27th of November, 1830, which was a Saturday and eve of the first Sunday in Advent, whilst making my meditation in profound silence, at half-past five in the evening, I seemed to hear on the right hand side of the sanctuary something like the rustling of a silk dress, and, glancing in that direction, I perceived the BlessedVirgin standing near St. Joseph's picture; her height was medium, and her countenance so beautiful that it would be impossible for me to describe it. She was standing, clothed in a robe the color of auroral light, the style that is usually calledà la vierge—that is, high neck and plain sleeves. Her head was covered with a white veil, which descended on each side to her feet. Her hair was smooth on the forehead, and above was a coif ornamented with a little lace and fitting close to the head. Her face was only partially covered, and her feet rested upon a globe, or rather a hemisphere (at least, I saw but half a globe). Her hands were raised about as high as her waist, and she held in a graceful attitude another globe (a figure of the universe). Her eyes were lifted up to Heaven, and her countenance was radiant as she offered the globe to Our Lord.
"The 27th of November, 1830, which was a Saturday and eve of the first Sunday in Advent, whilst making my meditation in profound silence, at half-past five in the evening, I seemed to hear on the right hand side of the sanctuary something like the rustling of a silk dress, and, glancing in that direction, I perceived the BlessedVirgin standing near St. Joseph's picture; her height was medium, and her countenance so beautiful that it would be impossible for me to describe it. She was standing, clothed in a robe the color of auroral light, the style that is usually calledà la vierge—that is, high neck and plain sleeves. Her head was covered with a white veil, which descended on each side to her feet. Her hair was smooth on the forehead, and above was a coif ornamented with a little lace and fitting close to the head. Her face was only partially covered, and her feet rested upon a globe, or rather a hemisphere (at least, I saw but half a globe). Her hands were raised about as high as her waist, and she held in a graceful attitude another globe (a figure of the universe). Her eyes were lifted up to Heaven, and her countenance was radiant as she offered the globe to Our Lord.