She describes certain great favours that the Lord bestowed on her, by graciously revealing to her some of the secrets of heaven, and by vouch-safing her further great visions and revelations. She speaks of the effects which these had upon her and of the great benefit that they did to her soul
ONE night when I was so ill that I intended to excuse myself from mental prayer, I took up a rosary, so as at least to occupy myself with vocal recitation. At the same time I tried not to be recollected in mind, though I was so outwardly since I was in an oratory. But such precautions are of no avail when the Lord wills otherwise. I had been there only a few moments when I was seized by a rapture so violent that I could offer no resistance. I seemed to be raised to Heaven, and the first persons I saw there were my father and my mother. Such mighty things happened in so short a time – it can have been no longer than it would take to recite an Ave Maria – that I was quite lifted out of myself, finding it altogether too great a favour. As to the question of time, it may have been longer than I say, but it all passed in a very short space.
I was afraid that this might be an illusion, though it did not seem like one. I could not think what to do, since I felt ashamed to go to my confessor about it – not, I think, out of humility, but because I was afraid he might laugh at me and say: ‘What a St Paul she is with her heavenly visions, or another St Jerome!’ The fact that these glorious saints had similar visions made me the more afraid, and all I could do was to weep copious tears, for I did not think I could possibly have seen what they saw. In the end, though feeling even more upset, I went to my confessor. I never dared keep such things to myself, however much it pained me to speak of them; I was too much afraid of being deceived. When he saw me in this distressed state, he comforted me a great deal, and gave me plenty of sound reasons why I need not worry.
In the course of time, the Lord showed me other great secrets, and He sometimes does so still. The soul may wish to see more than is put before it, but this is impossible; there is no way in which it may do so. I never saw more on any occasion, therefore, than the Lord was pleased to show me. But what I saw was so great that the least part of it was enough to leave the soul amazed, and so to benefit it that it considers all the things of this life as of small account. I wish that I could describe at least some small part of what I learnt, but when I consider how to do so I find that it is impossible. The mere difference between the light we see here and the light of vision is inexpressible. Both are alike light, but the brightness of the sun seems dull in comparison with that other. In fact, however skilful the imagination may be, it will not succeed in describing or indicating the nature of this light, or any of the other things that the Lord revealed to me. This revelation is accompanied by a joy so sublime as to be indescribable. All the senses are filled with such a profound bliss and sweetness that no description is possible. It is better, therefore, to say no more about this.
On one occasion, when I had been in this state for more than an hour and the Lord had been showing me the most wonderful things, just as He seemed on the point of leaving me, He said: ‘Daughter, see what they lose who are against me. Do not fail to tell them of it.’ Ah, Lord, how little good will my words do to people blinded by their own actions, unless Your Majesty gives them light! There are some to whom You have given it who have profited by the knowledge of Your wonders. But when they see them, Lord, revealed to such a poor and base creature as myself, I think it is remarkable if anyone believes me. Blessed be Your name and Your mercy, for at least I have seen a notable improvement in my soul. After that vision I wished it had stayed in that state for ever, and never returned to life, for I was left with a great contempt for all earthly things. They seemed to me like so much dross, and I see the meanness of our occupations, while we are detained here below.
When I was staying with the lady of whom I have spoken, I happened on one occasion to have pains in my heart – as I have said, I used to suffer severely from these, though I do so less now. Being a very kind person, she had some precious golden jewels and stones brought out for me, one set of diamonds in particular which she valued most highly. She thought that these would cheer me. But I only laughed to myself, and felt sorry that people should value such things, when I remembered what the Lord has in store for us. I thought how impossible it would be for me to attach any value to such objects, even if I tried, unless thlabour of out own and it is alle Lord were to expunge other things from my memory.
A soul in this state has so great a dominion over itself that I do not think anyone can understand it who does not possess it. It is a real, natural detachment, achieved without any labour of our own, and it is all of God’s doing. For when His Majesty reveals these truths to us, the very deep impression that they make upon our souls clearly shows us that we could not possibly acquire them for ourselves in this very short time. With that experience, I lost almost all my fear of death, which had always terrified me. Now it seems to me a very easy thing for a servant of God that in a single moment the soul should find itself freed from this prison and at rest. This moment in which God raises and transports the soul to show it things of such a sublime excellence seems to me very like that in which the soul leaves the body. In just such a single instant it finds itself in possession of all its blessings. Let us, therefore, leave out of account the agonies at the moment of parting, to which no great importance need be attached, because to those who really love God and have put aside the things of this world death must come very gently.
I think that this experience also helped me greatly to recognize my true home and to realize that here we are but pilgrims. It is a great thing to see what awaits us there, and to know where we shall live hereafter. For if someone has to go and settle in another country, it makes the hardships of the journey much lighter for him if he has evidence that he is going to a place where he will live in great comfort. It also makes death easier if we turn our minds to heavenly things and try to hold conversation with heaven. This is a great gain; merely to glance up to heaven makes the soul recollected, for as the Lord has graciously revealed some part of what is there, the thoughts turn to it. It sometimes happens that my companions and those who give me the greatest comfort are amongst those whom I know to dwell there; they are, as I see it, the people who are truly alive, whilst those who are on earth are so dead that I seem unable to find a companion in the whole world, especially when these raptures come upon me.
Everything seems to me like a dream. That which I see with the eyes of the body is a mockery, and that which I have seen with the eyes of the soul is what the soul desires. Finding itself so far from all such things is for it death. In brief it is a very great favour that the Lord is granting when He gives people such visions. He is helping them greatly, while at the same time he gives them a heavy cross to bear, for then nothing on earth is pleasing, everything is an impediment. I do not know how one could live if the Lord did not sometimes allow His high mysteries to be forgotten – though they are soon remembered again. Blessed and praised be He for ever and ever! May His Majesty grant, by the blood which His Son spilt for me, that since He has been pleased to give me some understanding of these great blessings and since I have now begun in some degree to enjoy them, I may not share the fate of Lucifer, who lost everything through his own fault. May He not permit this, for His own sake. Sometimes I am afraid that He will, although at other times, and more generally, I am comforted by the thought of God’s mercy. Since He has rescued me from so many sins, He will not let me slip from His hand and be lost I implore you, your Reverence, always to beg this of Him for me.
The favours of which I have spoken so far are less great, in my opinion, than the one that I shall now describe. There are many reasons for this, including the great benefits with which it left me, and the great strengthening that it brought to my soul. But each favour, considered by itself, is so great as to be beyond comparison. One day – it was on the eve of Pentecost – I went after Mass to a very lonely spot where I used often to pray, and began to read about this festival in the Carthusian book.1 I read about the signs by which beginners, improvers, and the perfect may know if the Holy Spirit is with them; and when I had read of these three states, it seemed to me, in so far as I could understand it, that God, of His goodness, was certainly with me. I praised Him for this, and remembered another occasion when I had read this passage, and when I had lacked much that I have now. I saw the difference very clearly and, as I grew aware of how radically I had altered, I realized what a great favour God had done me. Then I began to meditate on the place in hell that I had earned by my sins, and gave great praise to God, for I did not seem to recognize my own soul, so great was the change that had come over it. While I was meditating in this way, a great impulse swept over me, without my seeing the manner of it; my soul seemed to be on the point of leaving my body, because it could no longer contain itself and was incapable of waiting for its great blessing. The impulse was so strong that I could do nothing against it; it did not seem the same as on other occasions, and my soul was so changed that I did not understand what had happened to it, or what it desired. I leaned for support, because even seated I could not stay upright; my natural strength entirely failed me.
While in this condition, I saw above my head a dove very different from the doves of this world. It was not feathered like them, but its wings were made of little shells which shone with a great brilliance. It was bigger than a dove, and I seemed to hear the rustling of its wings. It must have been hovering like this for the space of an Ave Maria. But my soul was in such a state that, as it became lost to itself, so it lost sight of the dove. My spirit was calmed by the goodness of its guest, though I think that this marvellous favour disturbed and alarmed it. But once it began to rejoice in the vision, all fear left it and, as this rapture continued, with joy came tranquillity.
The glory of this rapture was very great; for the remaining days of the feast I was so bewildered and foolish that I did not know what to do, or how I could have received this great favour and grace. Such was my inward rejoicing that, as you might say, I could neither hear nor see. From that day I realized the very great progress that I had made in the highest love of God, and the great increase in the strength of my virtues. May He be blessed and praised for ever. Amen.
On another occasion I saw this same dove above the head of a Father of the Order of St Dominic.1 But the rays and the brightness of the wings seemed to extend much further. I understood by this that he was to bring souls to God.
On yet another occasion I saw Our Lady putting a pure white cope on a Licentiate of this same Order,1 of whom I have spoken several times. She told me that she was giving him that vestment as a reward for the services he had rendered her in helping towards the foundation of this house. She meant it as a sign that his soul would remain pure from that time onwards, and that he would not fall into mortal sin. I am quite sure that he never did. He passed the remainder of his life in penitence and sanctity, and a few years later died so holy and contrite a death that, so far as anything can be known, there can be no doubt about his freedom from sin. A friar who had been present at his deathbed told me that before he breathed his last he said that St Thomas was beside him. He then died with great joy, fervently desiring to depart from this exile. He has appeared to me several times since his death in very great glory, and has informed me of certain things. He was so given to prayer that when, on the point of death, he was so weak that he would have liked to cease praying, he was too continuously enraptured to be able to do so. Some time before he died, he had written to ask me what he ought to do, for as soon as he finished saying Mass he would go into a long rapture and could not avoid doing so. At the last, God gave him the reward for the many services he had rendered Him throughout his life.
As for the Rector of the Society of Jesus,1 whom I have mentioned many times, I had several visions of the great favours that the Lord was granting him, but for fear of being too long I will say nothing of them here. There was an occasion when he was in great trouble, being very sorely persecuted and suffering great distress. One day when I was hearing Mass, at the elevation of the Host I saw Christ on the Cross, and He gave me a message of comfort for the Rector, together with a warning of what was to come. He wished him to remember what He had suffered on his behalf and to prepare himself to suffer also. This gave the Rector great consolation and courage, and everything has since fallen out as the Lord told me it would.
I have seen great things concerning other members of the Society of Jesus to which this Father belonged, and concerning the Order as a whole. I have several times seen them in Heaven with white banners in their hands and, as I say, I have seen other visions of them that are truly wonderful. I have a great veneration, therefore, for the Order, with which I have had many dealings. I see too that their lives conform to what the Lord has told me about them.
One night when I was at prayer, the Lord began to speak to me. He reminded me of the wickedness of my past life, and filled me with shame and distress. Although He did not speak severely, He roused a consuming grief and sorrow within me. But a single word of this kind makes one more conscious of one’s progress in self-knowledge than many days spent in the contemplation of one’s wretchedness, since it bears the undeniable stamp of truth. He set before me the former bent of my will towards vanities, and told me that I must set great store by my present desire to fix my will, which had hitherto been so ill-employed, upon Him. He promised to accept this desire, and He told me to remember how I had once thought it honourable to oppose His honour. At other times, He said, I must remember my debt to Him, for when I was dealing Him the harshest blows He was all the time bestowing favours on me. Now, when I am doing anything wrong – and my wrong-doings are many – His Majesty makes me so conscious of it that I become entirely dissolved with shame – and as my faults are frequent the occasions for this are numerous. Sometimes I have been rebuked by my confessor, and when I have tried to find consolation in prayer, I have received a real reprimand there.
To return to what I was saying, when the Lord began to remind me of the wickedness of my past life, I wept to think that until then I had achieved nothing. But in the midst of my tears, I would wonder if He was not just about to grant me some favour. For quite often when I receive some particular favour from the Lord, it follows after a moment of complete humiliation. I think that His purpose in treating me like this is to show me how little I deserve His favours.
Soon after this my spirit was so transported that I felt it to be almost entirely out of the body, or at least I had no realization that it was still in it. I saw the most sacred Humanity in far greater glory than ever before. I saw Him with amazing clarity in the bosom of the Father. I cannot possibly say how it was, but without seeing, I seemed to see myself in the presence of that Divine Being. I was so amazed that I think it must have been several days before I came to myself again. All the time I seemed to have that majesty of the Son of God present with me, although not in the same way as in the original vision. I understood this well enough, but it remained so impressed on my imagination that, quickly though it passed, for some time I could not be rid of it. It has been a great comfort to me, and also a great blessing.
I have seen this same vision on three subsequent occasions. I think it is the most sublime vision that the Lord has ever given me the grace to see. It brings great benefits with it, and seems to have a most purifying effect upon the soul, almost entirely taking the strength out of our sensual nature. It is a great flame that seems to burn up and annihilate all worldly desires. For though – glory be to God! – I had no desires for the usual vanities, it was plainly shown to me here how all things are vain, and how absolutely vain are the dignities of this world. This is a great incentive towards raising the desires to pure truth. It impresses on the soul a sense of reverence of which I can say little except that it is very different from anything that we can acquire on earth. The soul is overwhelmed with amazement to think that it has dared offend His Supreme Majesty, or indeed that anyone should have the temerity to do so.
I must have spoken several times of the effects left by visions and other such experiences. As I have already said, they may bring greater or lesser benefits; this kind of vision brings the greatest benefits of all. When I came up to take Communion, and remembered that tremendous majesty that I had seen, and reflected that it was He that was in the most holy Sacrament, and that the Lord often graciously appeared to me in the Host, my hair would stand on end and I would seem to be utterly annihilated. O my Lord, if You did not veil Your greatness, who would dare, being so foul and wretched, to bring himself into such frequent contact with Your great majesty? May You be blessed, O Lord, and may the angels and all creatures praise You, who measure all things by our weakness. Otherwise, when we are receiving Your sovereign favours, we might be so alarmed by Your great power as not to dare enjoy them, because we are weak and miserable creatures. The same thing might happen to us as happened, to my positive knowledge, to a certain peasant, who found a treasure far more precious than his poor mind could grasp. The mere possession of it made him so sad that little by little he wasted away to death out of pure grief and perturbation, because he did not know what to do with it. If he had not found it all at once, but had been given it bit by bit, so that he could have lived on it, he would have been happier than when he was poor and it would not have cost him his life.
O Treasure of the poor, how wonderfully You can nourish souls, by revealing Your great riches to them gradually, and not allowing them to be seen all at once! Since that vision I have never seen so great a majesty hidden in anything so small as the Host without marvelling at Your great wisdom. I do not know how the Lord gives me the courage and strength to approach Him. I only know that they were – and still are – bestowed on me by Him who grants me these great favours, and that I could not possibly conceal this, or refrain from proclaiming it aloud. What must be the feelings of a wretch like myself, weighed down by abominations, who has spent her life with so little fear of God, when she finds herself approaching that majestic Lord? It is His will that my soul shall see Him. But how can I open my mouth, that has spoken so many words against this same Lord, to receive that most glorious Body, which is all purity and compassion? For the soul, conscious that it has not served Him, is far more pained and grieved by the love that shines in that most beautiful, kind, and tender face than frightened by the majesty that it sees there.
Think then what my feelings must have been on the two occasions when I saw what I shall now describe. I feel impelled to say, O my Lord and my Glory, that my soul has performed some sort of service for You by suffering the great afflictions that it did. But I do not know what I am saying. I am writing this as if it were not myself that speaks. I find myself confused and almost beside myself when I recall these things to my memory. If my feelings really emanated from me, I should have a right to say that I have done something for You, my Lord. But since there can be no good thought unless You give it, I have nothing to thank myself for. I am the debtor, Lord, and it is You who have been offended.
Once when I was about to take Communion, I saw with the eyes of my soul, more clearly than ever I could with my bodily eyes, two most hideous devils. Their horns seemed to be about the poor priest’s throat; and when I saw my Lord, in all His majesty, held in those hands, in the form of the Host that he was about to present to me, I knew for certain that they had offended against Him, and that here was a man in mortal sin. How terrible, O my Lord, to see that beauty of Yours between two such hideous shapes! They seemed so cowed and alarmed in Your presence that I think they would gladly have fled if You had let them go. I was so upset, Lord, that I do not know how I was able to receive the Host; and afterwards I was afraid, for I thought that if the visions had been of God, His Majesty would not have allowed me to see the evil that was in that soul. Then the Lord Himself told me to pray for him, and said that he had allowed this in order that I might realize what power there was in the words of consecration, and that God never fails to be present however wicked the priest who pronounces them. He also wanted me to realize His great goodness in placing Himself in the hands of His enemy, only for the good of myself and of all men. This clearly showed me that priests are under an even greater obligation to be good than other men, and what a terrible thing it is to receive this Most Holy Sacrament when one is unworthy, also how completely the devil is master of a soul that is in mortal sin. This vision was a very great help to me, and made me fully understand what I owe to God. Blessed be He for ever and ever.
On another occasion I saw something else of a similar kind, which greatly alarmed me. I was in a certain place where someone had died who, as I knew, had lived a very evil life for many years. But for the last two he had been ill and seemed in some respects to have improved his ways. He died without confessing, but I did not think, all the same, that he would be damned. While his body was being laid in its shroud, I saw a number of devils lay hold of it. They seemed to be playing with it and tearing at it, tossing it from one to another with great hooks. I was utterly horrified. But when I saw it carried to the grave with all the honour and ceremony that is paid to the dead, I kept thinking of God’s great goodness in not allowing that soul to be dishonoured, or the fact that it had been His enemy to be revealed.
What I had seen drove me half out of my mind. But during the funeral service I saw no more devils. Afterwards, however, when they laid the body in the grave, there was such a multitude of them waiting there to seize it that I was beside myself at the sight, and needed no small presence of mind to conceal the fact. I thought of what they would do to his soul, if they could take possession of his body in this manner. Would to God that everyone who is in an evil state could see that hideous spectacle that I saw. I think it would be a great incentive towards the reformation of their lives. All this makes me more conscious of what I owe to God and of what He has delivered me from. Until I had talked to my confessor, I was in a state of great fear, for although this man had no great reputation for piety I wondered whether this was not a trick of the devil’s intended simply to discredit him. The truth is that, illusion or no, every time I remember it I am afraid.
Now that I have begun to speak of visions of the dead, I will refer to some matters which Our Lord has been pleased to reveal to me concerning certain souls. For the sake of brevity, and because such tales are unnecessary – for our profit, I mean – I will relate only a few. I was told that a former Provincial1 of ours had died – at the time of his death he was Provincial of another province – a man with whom I had had dealings and to whom I was grateful for various kindnesses, and a person of many virtues. I was very much upset when I heard that he had died, because I feared for his salvation. He had been a superior for twenty years, and this always makes me afraid, for I think it is a most dangerous thing to have charge of souls. I went in some distress to an oratory and offered on his behalf all the good that I had done in my whole life, which must have been very little. Then I begged the Lord to make up the deficiency from His own merits, so as to deliver that soul from purgatory.
Whilst I was offering the Lord the best prayers that I could on his behalf, he seemed to rise out of the depths of the earth on my right, and I saw him ascend into Heaven with the greatest joy. He had been very old, but as I saw him he appeared to be thirty or even less, and his face was bright. This vision was quickly over, but I was so comforted that I could never grieve for his death again, although I found people much distressed by it, for he was very well liked. My soul felt so much comfort that nothing disturbed it and I could have no doubt that this was a genuine vision – I mean, that it was no illusion. He had not been dead more than a fortnight at the time. Nevertheless I was tireless in getting people to commend him to God and in doing so myself, though I could not pray with as much earnestness as if I had not seen that vision. For once the Lord gives me a demonstration like that, I cannot help thinking that attempts to commend a soul to His Majesty are like gifts of alms to the rich. He died a long way away. So it was not till afterwards that I learnt what kind of death the Lord gave him. It was one of great edification; everyone was astounded by the consciousness, the tears, and the humility with which he died.
It was about a day and a half after the death, in our house, of a nun who had been a great servant of God, that the following incident occurred. The service for the dead was being recited for her in the choir. A sister was reading the lesson, and I was standing there to assist her with the response. Halfway through, I seemed to see the dead woman’s soul rising on my right, as in my earlier vision, and ascending to Heaven. This was not an imaginary vision, like the last, but was similar to the others of which I have spoken. But there was no more doubt about it than about those visions that are seen.
Another nun died in this same house, at the age of eighteen or twenty. She had always been in poor health, but was a great servant of God, dutiful in the choir and extremely virtuous. I certainly thought she would be excused purgatory, for not only had she suffered from severe illness but she had a superfluity of merits. About four hours after her death, while the Office was being said preparatory to her burial, I saw her rise on that same side and ascend into Heaven.
Once I was in a College of the Company of Jesus, suffering severely both in my body and soul as I have said I sometimes used to and still do, I was in such a state that I do not think I was capable of thinking a single good thought. A member of the Company, who belonged to that house, had died that night and I was endeavouring to commend his soul to God, while listening to a Mass said for him by another Father of the Company. Suddenly I became deeply recollected and saw him ascend to Heaven in great glory; and the Lord ascended with him. I understood that it was by a special favour that His Majesty rose with him.
Another friar of our Order, a very good man, was extremely ill. I was at Mass and became recollected. Then I saw that he was dead and was ascending into Heaven without passing through purgatory. He had died, as I afterwards learnt, at the hour when I had seen him. It amazed me that he had not gone to purgatory. But I realized that as he had been a friar who had carefully kept the Rule, the Bulls of the Order had been efficacious in saving him from a sojourn there. I do not know why this was revealed to me. I think it must have been to teach me that a habit – I mean the wearing of a habit – is not enough to make a man a friar, and does not imply that state of great perfection which is proper to a friar.
I will say no more on this subject, although the Lord has graciously allowed me to see many such things. For, as I have said, it is unnecessary. But from all the visions I have seen I have never learnt that any soul escaped purgatory, except those of this father, of the saintly friar, Peter of Alcántara, and of the Dominican father whom I have mentioned. It has pleased the Lord to show me the degrees of glory to which some souls have been raised, and He has shown them to me in the places assigned to them. There is a great difference between some of these places and others.