“Sola Soli”
Letters of condolence — "How simple it is to die!" — Thirst for self-sacrifice — Retreat of 1905 — Impressions of the last hour — A presentiment.
The same freshness and high tone of feeling characterizes all Sister Elizabeth's correspondence. Her refined, delicate style, graceful and inspired by supernatural feeling, gives an indescribable charm to every subject she treats, so that it has been said of this daughter of St. Teresa, as of her seraphic Mother, that she cannot be thoroughly known except by her letters. Were it not for fear of making our story too long, we should give the reader all that have been preserved ; however, we select a few which presage the final state of her soul, which was already raised above this world and had begun to mount towards God. " I have heard of the painful sacrifice God asks of you," she wrote to Monsieur l'abbe X , when his father died. " I think that, at such times, our only comfort can come from the Master Whose divinely loving Heart ' was troubled ' at the tomb of Lazarus, so that we can weep with Him, and, leaning on Him, find fresh strength and peace. I pray a great deal for your father's soul. He was indeed the 'just man ' of whom the Scriptures speak,
What a consolation, when his course was run, to look back upon his life so full of good works ! For him the veil has fallen, the darkness of mystery has disappeared : he has seen ! . . . Let us follow him by faith into the regions of peace and of love, for all must end in God, Who some day will say His Vent to us also ; then, like the little babe on its mother's breast, we shall sleep in Him, and c in His light we shall see light.'*
" Good-bye, Monsieur l'abbe. Let us live on the heights far away ... in Him ... in our hearts, and as the communion of saints brings us into intercourse with those who have left us, let us pray together for the soul of your dear father, so that if he has not yet attained to it, he may soon enjoy the eternal vision of God. It is beneath this radiance of the presence of God that I remain at one with you !"
She wrote to a friend urging her to rise above her grief:
" I can understand your sorrow. What an impenetrable mystery death is ! Yet, at the same time, how simple for the soul that has lived in faith, for those who clook not at the things which are seen. . . . For the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.' f St. John, whose pure soul was radiant with divine light, gives in a few words what seems to me a most beautiful definition of death : c Jesus knowing that His hour was come, that He should pass out of this world to the Father . . .'J Is not the simplicity of these words touching ? When the final hour sounds for us, we must not suppose that God will come before us to judge us, but that we shall * Ps. xxxv. 10; f 2 Cor. iv. 18. X St. John xiii. I.
remain for all eternity in the state in which God finds us then, and our degree of grace will be our degree of glory. By the fact of being delivered from the body, the soul can see Him without a veil within itself, as it has possessed Him all its lifetime, though unable to contemplate Him face to face. This is perfectly true ; it is theology. Is it not a comfort to think that He Who is to be our Judge dwells within us throughout our miseries, to save us and to forgive our sins ? St. Paul affirms positively that we are justified freely by His grace, . . . through faith in His blood.'* How rich we are in the gifts of God, predestinate by divine adoption, and so heirs of the heritage of His glory l"
She whose soul found heaven so near and death so simple, approached the end of her exile ; the thirst for immolation, the grace of her childhood, was a divine call to the Calvary now appearing on the horizon.
Sister Elizabeth's health had been maintained, with the help of a little management, until the spring of 1905, after which our Observance had to be modified for her — a supreme renouncement for this true Carmelite, who wished to keep her Rule until death, " until she died of very love !"
" It was very painful to me to be taken care of, because I keenly longed to follow my Master in His self-sacrifice," she confided to the Mother Prioress shortly before she died. " I remember now what a severe sacrifice you asked of me one day. It was the beginning of Lent, and I begged you, as a favour, to let me have no more than usual at collation. You answered, giving me no hope of obtaining what * Rom. iii. 24, 25.
i *6 THE " PRAISE OF GLORY o
I asked : ■ You will eat whatever is given you/ Your reply seemed a refusal, and I submitted, but not without regret. On entering the refectory in the evening I longed to look at my place, but I offered this and my eagerness to our Lord as a renewal of the sacrifice made in the morning. But when I slipped along the bench of our table there was the meagre little collation I wanted ! I cannot tell you how glad I was ! No epicure was ever so pleased with a sumptuous dinner as I was with the frugal little meal ! How happy I was, and how thankful to God and to you, my Mother !"
Alas ! she would never enjoy that happiness again. She could not fast, but the doctor gave us hopes that, with rest and fresh air, she would recover.
She was taken from the office of portress, and henceforth, {C alone with the One," we saw her fully correspond to grace in her complete solitude.
f< Our kind Mother, who watches over your Elizabeth with true maternal love," she wrote to her mother, " insists upon my living out of doors, so instead of working in our little cell, I instal myself like a hermit in the most deserted part of our immense garden, where I spend a delightful time. Nature seems to me full of God : the wind rustling among the trees, the songs of the little birds, the beautiful blue sky, all speak to me of Him. O mother ! I must tell you that my happiness continually increases, is becoming infinite, like God Himself; yet it is so calm and sweet. I should like to tell you my secret.
" St. Peter says in his first epistle : ' You . . . believing, shall rejoice with joy unspeakable/ * The Carmelite draws all her happiness from this * i St. Pet. i. 8.
divine source of faith. She believes, as St. John says, in the c charity the Father hath bestowed on us;'* she believes that this charity drew Him to earth and into her own soul, for He Who is called ( the Truth ' has said : ' Abide in Me, and I in you.'f She obeys this most sweet commandment in all simplicity, living in intimacy with the God Who dwells within her, Who is more present to her than she is to herself. This is not ail imagination or sentiment, dearest mother, it is pure faith ; and your own faith is so strong that God might say to you as He said to another : c O woman, great is thy faith !' Yes, it was great when you led your Isaac to sacrifice him on the mountain ! The good God has registered this heroic act of a mother's heart in the great book of life. I think your page will be well filled, and that you can await the hour of Divine judgment in peaceful confidence.
cc It is your feast on Tuesday, mother dear, and though as a rule we do not write on such occasions in Carmel, our Reverend Mother has allowed me to make my letter coincide with the date so dear to me. You will feel sure that I send you my tenderest wishes. Do you remember how I used to enjoy preparing my surprises for that day ? I have offered all such things on the altar of my heart to Him Who is a ' Spouse of blood.' It would be far from true to say that it has cost me nothing. Sometimes I wonder how I could have left so good a mother, but the more we give to God, the more He gives, as I realize better every day. So I wish you a happy feast ! I should be very glad if our Lady, on the Feast of the Assumption, were to take with her all * 1 St. John iii. 1. t St. John xv. 4.
your cares, past, present, and to come, for you have only too many, and your Elizabeth cannot bear to see. a shadow pass over your dear face."
iThe " most sweet commandment — c Abide in Me"' — of which Sister Elizabeth of the Trinity reminds her mother, was the source of changeless peace to herself, in spite of the lassitude caused by her failing health. \ She knew how to raise herself above her feelings.
"I press towards the mark . . . Christ Jesus,"1 she said, and she spoke the truth. Later oh she owned to her Prioress that she used to look at her sometimes on leaving midday recreation, in the hopes of seeing a little gesture of invitation which would have been a ray of sunshine in the gloom. " As you did not notice me, Mother, I went back to our cell with f my trials." " What did you do there ?" " I used to try to raise myself above, or creep under them. I read St. Paul, who had always brought me grace — although purely in the spirit of faith at such times, I assure you. I went over my favourite passages, or asked my Master to lead me to fresh pastures, and by ruminating over what I found there! got the better of my troubles in the end. But if you only knew what God wants of me ! He will not allow me to cast a glance at anything but Him, although He hides Himself entirely. He requires real heroism of me."
" I am starting this evening on a long journey, which is nothing less than my private retreat," she wrote on October 8, 1 905, to Monsieur l'abbe X , a recently ordained priest. " I shall be in absolute solitude for the next ten days, with several extra hours for prayer, and shall wear our veil down when walking about the convent. I shall be more like a hermit of the desert than ever. Before entering my Thebaid, I feel a real need of asking for the help of your holy prayers — above all, for a special intention in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. When you consecrate the Host in which Jesus, Who alone is holy, is about to become incarnate, will you consecrate me with Him as a victim of praise of His glory, so that all my aspirations, my movements, my actions, may be a homage to His sanctity ?
" ' Be ye holy, because I the Lord your God am holy.'2 I concentrate my thoughts upon this sentence, beneath the light of which I shall make my Divine journey. St. Paul comments upon it for me when he says : cHe chose us in Him before the foundations of the world, that we should be holy and unspotted in His sight in charity.' f This, then, is the secret of virginal purity : to dwell in love — that is to say, in God. * God is charity.' J
" Pray much for me during these ten days, for I trust in your doing so. Indeed, it seems to me quite simple, for God has united our souls so that we should help one another. Has He not said : 'A brother that is helped by his brother is like a strong city '?3 This is the mission I entrust to you. Monsieur l'abbe, will you offer for me St. Paul's fervent prayer for his loved Ephesians ? — c that the Father . . . would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened by His Spirit with might unto the inward man, that Christ may dwell by faith in your hearts ; that being rooted
X 1 St. John iv. 16. § Prov. xviii. 19.
i4o THE "PRAISE OF GLORY"
and founded in charity, you may be able to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth, and length, and height, and depth. To know also the charity of Christ, which surpasseth all knowledge, that you may be filled unto all the fulness of God.'*
" ■ Sanctify the Lord Christ in your hearts,'f so as to realize what David sang under the influence of the Holy Ghost : ' Upon him shall My sanctification flourish.' "|
This retreat might be termed the crown of all the rest.
"God has given me such light on our holy vocation," she said, when giving an account of these days of grace : " I have learnt to realize its height and sublimity so deeply, that I beg Him not to let me live long, for it seems so difficult for such a coward as myself to mount so high, and to remain there. He can find many substitutes for the deficiency of the glory His little ' praise ' could have rendered Him in this world, and can make a few days equal the long career I might have had. He knows how I love Him and long to suffer for Him."
After this retreat we could see that she was rapidly approaching the state in which the soul lives for God alone. The young nuns who were her neighbours at recreation said that they could no longer follow her spiritual flight. Truly she dwelt in higher regions, as was evident to all who had to deal with her.
Her inner feelings imparted a striking modesty and dignity to her appearance. A novice who met her in the cloisters, seeing her so deeply absorbed in God, was afraid to ask her for some service that was required.
There was much during the latter part of her life that resembled her postulancy, but her continuaJ progress in recollection and prayer gave this privileged soul a maturity, and a grace for helping others, which raised our highest expectations.
Sister Elizabeth of the Trinity was about to leave the noviceship and to devote herself still more to the community, where her influence would naturally be more widespread.
As we witnessed her treasures of grace, we said to ourselves that God intended either to make her a great saint, or to accomplish His work rapidly. The latter conjecture was soon forced upon us. Our hopes were obliged to concede to her ardent longings. Did the Divine Master give her any secret presentiment of it? While she was preparing the crib at Christmas time, she was heard to say to the Divine Infant : " Ah ! my little King of love ! we shall see one another nearer next year !" " How do you know that ?" her companion asked. She looked at her, gave her usual angelic smile, and spoke no more.
Footnotes
Chapter 12 of 19