THE GLORIES OF MARY. PART SECOND: (continued 3)

In the third place, the certainty of eternal salvation renders death sweet. Death is called a passage, since through death we pass from this short life to life eternal. And, as the dread is great of those who die in doubt of their salvation, and who approach the solemn moment with just fear of passing into an eternal death, thus, on the other hand, very great is the joy of the saints at the end of life, hoping with some security to go and possess God in heaven. A nun of the order of St. Theresa, when the physician announced to her that death was near, was so full of joy that she said to him: “And how does it happen, sir, that you tell me this good news and ask no fee for it?” St. Lawrence Justinian being at the point of death, and seeing his friends weeping around him, said to them: “Away, away with your tears, this is no time for tears.”[1280] Go elsewhere to weep; if you will remain with me you must rejoice, as I rejoice, in seeing the gate of paradise open to unite me with my God. And thus, also, a St. Peter of Alcantara, a St. Louis of Gonzaga, and so many other saints, on hearing that death was at hand, burst forth into exclamations of joy and gladness. And yet they were not certain of the divine favor, nor secure of their own sanctity, as Mary was secure of hers. But what joy must the divine mother have felt in learning that her death was at hand; she, who had the fullest security of enjoying the divine favor, especially after the angel Gabriel had assured her that she was full of grace, and already possessed God! “Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with thee ... thou hast found grace.”[1281] And well did she herself know that her heart was burning continually with divine love, so that as Bernardine de Bustis says, Mary, by a singular grace not granted to any other saint, loved, and was always actually occupied in loving God every moment of her life, and so ardently, that, as St. Bernard says, it required a perpetual miracle to preserve her life in the midst of such burning flames.

It was before said of Mary in the sacred Canticles: “Who is she that goeth up by the desert as a pillar of smoke of aromatical spices, of myrrh, and frankincense, and of all the powders of the perfumer?”[1282] Her entire mortification was prefigured in the myrrh, her fervent prayers were signified by the incense, and all her holy virtues united to her perfect charity towards God, kindled in her a flame so great, that her holy soul, wholly devoted to, and consumed by divine love, arose continually to God as a pillar of smoke that on all sides breathed sweet odor. As a pillar of smoke, oh blessed Lady, wrote Rupert, thou hast breathed forth a sweet odor to the Most High.[1283] And Eustachius still more strongly expresses it: A pillar of smoke, because burning interiorly as a holocaust with the flame of divine love, she sent forth a most sweet odor.[1284] As the loving Virgin lived, such she died. As divine love gave her life, so it gave her death; for she died as the holy Doctors and Fathers of the Church generally affirm, of no other infirmity than pure love; for St. Ildephonsus says, that Mary either ought not to die, or only die of love.

Second Point.—But let us now see what were the circumstances of her happy death. After the ascension of Jesus Christ, Mary remained on earth to attend to the propagation of the faith. Hence the disciples of Jesus had recourse to her, and she resolved their doubts, comforted them in their persecutions, and encouraged them to labor for the divine glory and for the salvation of the souls redeemed by her Son. She, indeed, willingly remained on earth, understanding this to be the will of God for the good of the Church; but she could not but feel the pain of being far from the presence and sight of her beloved Son, who had ascended into heaven. “Where your treasure is,” said the Redeemer, “there will your heart be also.”[1285] Where any one believes his treasure and his happiness to lie, there he always holds the love and desire of his heart fixed. If Mary then loved no other good than Jesus, he being in heaven, in heaven were all her desires. Taulerus wrote of Mary: The cell of Mary was heaven: “Mariæ cella fuit cœlum,”[1286] for being in heaven with her affection, she made of it her continual abode. Her school was eternity: “Schola æternitas,” for she was always detached from temporal possessions. Her teacher, divine truth: “Pædagogus divina veritas,” for she was always guided in her actions by the divine light. Her mirror, the Divinity: “Speculum divinitas,” for she looked upon nothing but God, in order to conform always to the divine will. Her ornament, devotion: “Ornatus ejus devotio,” for she was always ready to fulfil the divine commands. Her repose, union with God: “Quies unitas cum Deo,” for her peace was only in uniting herself with God. In a word, the place and treasure of her heart was God alone: “Cordis illius locus et thesaurus solus Deus erat.” The most holy Virgin consoled her loving heart during this cruel separation, by visiting, as it is narrated, the holy places of Palestine, where her Son had been in his lifetime: she often visited now the stable of Bethlehem, where her Son was born; now the workshop at Nazareth, where her Son had lived so many years poor and despised; now the garden of Gethsemane, where her Son commenced his passion; now the hall of Pilate, where he was scourged; the place where he was crowned; but more often she visited Calvary, where her Son had expired; and the holy sepulchre, where she finally had left him. And thus the most loving mother used to soothe the pains of her cruel exile. But this was not enough to satisfy her heart, which could not find its perfect rest upon this earth; hence her continual sighs were ascending to her Lord, as she exclaimed with David, but with more ardent love: “Who will give me wings like a dove, and I will fly and be at rest.”[1287] Who will give me wings like a dove to fly to my God and there to find my rest? “As the hart panteth after the fountains of water, so my soul panteth after thee, oh God.”[1288] As the wounded stag pants for the fountain, so my soul, wounded by thy love, oh my God, desires and sighs for thee. Ah, the sighs of this holy turtle-dove could not but reach the heart of her God, who loved her so much: “The voice of the turtle is heard in our land.” Wherefore not being willing to defer any longer consolation to his beloved, behold, he graciously hears her desire and calls her to his kingdom.

Cedrenus,[1289] Nicephorus,[1290] and Metaphrastes,[1291] relate, that the Lord, some days before her death, sent to her the angel Gabriel, the same who once announced to her that she was the blessed woman chosen to be the mother of God: My Lady and Queen, said the angel to her, God has already graciously heard thy holy desires, and he has sent me to tell thee to prepare to leave the earth, for he wishes thee with him in paradise. Come then, to take possession of thy kingdom, for I and all its holy citizens await and desire thee. At this happy annunciation what should our most humble and holy Virgin do but conceal herself more deeply in the centre of her most profound humility, and reply in those same words with which she answered St. Gabriel when he announced to her that she was to become mother of God: Behold the handmaid of the Lord: “Ecce ancilla Domini?” Behold, she again answered, the servant of the Lord; he in his pure goodness has chosen me and made me his mother; now he calls me to paradise. I neither merited the one nor the other honor; but since he wishes to manifest his infinite liberality towards me, I am ready to go where he wishes. “Behold the handmaid of the Lord;” may the will of my God and Lord always be fulfilled in me.

After receiving this precious intelligence, she imparted it to St. John, and we may imagine with what grief and tender emotion he heard this news; he who for so many years had been near her as a son, and had enjoyed the celestial conversation of this most holy mother. She then visited anew the holy places of Jerusalem, tenderly taking leave of them, especially of Calvary, where her beloved Son had died. And then she returned to her poor dwelling to prepare for death. During this time the angels did not cease to come and visit this their beloved queen, consoling themselves with the thought that they should soon see her crowned in heaven. Many authors assert,[1292] that before she died, by a divine miracle, the apostles and also some of the disciples came from the different places where they were dispersed, and all assembled in the apartment of Mary, and that when she saw all these her dear children united together in her presence, she thus addressed them: My dear children, for love of you, and to help you, my Son left me on this earth. But now the holy faith is spread throughout the world, already the fruit of the divine seed is grown up; hence my divine Son, seeing that my assistance was no longer needed upon the earth, and compassionating me for the pain of separation, has graciously heard my desire to depart from this life, and go to see him in glory. If I leave you, my heart does not leave you; I will carry with me the great love I bear you, and it shall always remain with me. I am going to paradise to pray for you. At these sad tidings, who can realize how great were the tears and lamentations of these holy disciples, knowing that they were shortly to be separated from their mother? Then, they all in tears exclaimed, then, oh Mary, thou wilt leave us! It is true that this earth is not a worthy and fit place for thee, and that we are not worthy to enjoy the society of a mother of God; but remember that thou art our mother; thou hast until now enlightened us in our doubts, consoled our sorrows, strengthened us in persecutions, and how canst thou now abandon us, leaving us alone without thy comfort in the midst of so many enemies and so many conflicts? We have already lost on earth Jesus, our Master and our Father, who has ascended into heaven; we have since been consoled by thee, our mother; and now how canst thou leave us orphans, without father or mother? Oh remain with us, oh our Lady! or take us with thee. Thus writes St. John Damascene.[1293] “No, my children (thus sweetly the loving queen began to speak) this is not according to the will of God; content yourselves to do what he has appointed for you and for me. To you it yet remains to labor on the earth for the glory of your Redeemer, and to perfect your eternal crown. I do not leave you to abandon you, but to help you more by my intercession with God in heaven. Be satisfied. I commend to you the holy Church; I commend to you the souls redeemed by my Son; let this be my last farewell, and the only remembrance that I leave you. If you love me, labor for souls, and for the glory of my Son; for we shall one day meet again in paradise, never more to separate throughout eternity.”

Then she begged them to give burial to her body after death, blessed them, and directed St. John, as Damascene relates,[1294] that after her death he should give her two garments to two virgins who had served her for some time, and then she decently composed herself upon her poor little bed, where she laid herself to await death, and with death the meeting with her divine spouse, who shortly was to come and take her with him to the kingdom of the blessed. Behold, she already feels in her heart a great joy, the forerunner of the coming of the spouse, which overwhelms her with a great and new sweetness. The holy apostles, seeing that Mary already was about to depart from this earth, burst forth into fresh weeping, and knelt around her bed: some kissed her holy feet, others asked her special blessing, one recommended to her some particular necessity of his, and all wept bitterly, for their hearts were pierced with grief at being obliged to separate forever in this life from their beloved Lady. And she, their most loving mother, compassionated all, consoled all, promising to some her protection, blessing others with peculiar affection, and encouraging others to labor for the conversion of the world; especially did she call St. Peter to her, and as head of the Church, and vicar of her Son, she recommended to him in particular the propagation of the faith, promising him her special protection from heaven. But in a very special manner did she call to her St. John, who felt a greater sorrow than all the others at the moment of separation from that holy mother; and the most grateful Lady, calling to mind the affection and attention with which this holy disciple had served her through all the years they had passed on earth since the death of her Son, said to him with great tenderness: My John, I thank thee for all the assistance thou hast afforded me; my son, be certain that I never will be ungrateful to thee for it. If I leave thee now, I am going to pray for thee. Remain in peace in this life until we meet in heaven, where I will await thee. Do not forget me; in all thy necessities call me to thy aid, for I never will forget thee, my beloved son. My son, I bless thee, I leave thee my benediction; rest in peace—adieu.

But the death of Mary draws near. The divine love, with its blessed and ardent flames, having almost entirely consumed the vital spirits, the celestial phœnix is going to lose her life in the midst of this fire. Then the hosts of angels come to meet her, as if to be ready for the great triumph with which they were to accompany her to paradise. Mary was indeed consoled at the sight of these holy spirits; but not fully consoled, for she did not yet see her beloved Jesus, who was the whole love of her heart. Hence she often repeated to the angels who descended to salute her: “I adjure you, oh daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my beloved, that you tell him that I languish with love.”[1295] Oh holy angels! oh blessed citizens of the heavenly Jerusalem! ye come in hosts kindly to console me, and ye all console me with your sweet presence; I thank you, but ye all do not fully satisfy me, for I do not yet see my Son coming to console me. Go, if you love me, return to paradise, and tell my beloved, from me, that I languish and faint for his love. Tell him to come, and come quickly, for I am dying with my desire to see him.

But behold, Jesus himself comes to take his mother to the kingdom of the blessed. It was revealed to St. Elizabeth, that the Son appeared to Mary before she expired, with the cross in his hand, to show the special glory he had obtained from the redemption, having by his death made the acquisition of this great creature, who through the ages of eternity was to honor him more than all men and all angels. St. John of Damascus relates, that he gave to her the viaticum, saying to her, tenderly: Take, oh my mother, from my hands, that same body which thou hast given me. And the mother having received with the greatest love that final communion, with her last sighs said to him: My Son, into thy hands I commend my spirit; I recommend to thee this soul that thou, in thy goodness, didst create even from the beginning, rich in so many graces, and by a peculiar privilege hast preserved from every stain of sin. I commend to thee my body, from which thou hast deigned to take flesh and blood. I commend to thee, also, these my dear children (speaking of the holy disciples who were around her); they are afflicted at my departure; do thou console them, who lovest them more than I do; bless them, and give them strength to do great things for thy glory.[1296]

The end of the life of Mary having now arrived, there was heard, as St. Jerome relates, in the apartment where she lay, a great harmony; and also, as it was revealed to St. Bridget, a great brightness was seen. By this harmony and unusual splendor the holy Apostles perceived that Mary was then departing, at which they broke forth again in tears and prayers, and raising their hands, with one voice exclaimed: Oh, our mother, now thou art going to heaven, and art leaving us, give us thy last benediction, and do not forget us in our misery. And Mary, turning her eyes around upon them all, as if bidding them for the last time farewell, said: Adieu, my children: I bless you; do not fear that I shall forget you. And now death came, not indeed clothed with mourning and sadness, as it comes to others, but adorned with light and joy. But why death, why death? Rather should we say that divine love came to cut the thread of that noble life. And as a lamp before going out, her life, amid these last flickerings, flashed forth more brightly, and then expired. Thus, this beautiful soul, her Son inviting her to follow him, wrapped in the flame of her charity, and in the midst of her amorous sighs, breathed forth a greater sigh of love, expired and died; and thus that great soul, that beautiful dove of our Lord, was released from the bonds of this life, and entered into the glory of the blessed, where she sits, and will sit, as queen of paradise, for all eternity.

Now Mary has left the earth, now she is in heaven. From thence this kind mother looks down upon us, who are still in this valley of tears, compassionates us, and promises us her support if we wish for it. Let us pray her always that by the merits of her blessed death she may obtain for us a happy death; and if it please God, that she may obtain for us to die on a Saturday, which is dedicated to her honor, or on a day of the Novena, or of the octave of some of her feasts, as she has obtained for so many of her servants, and especially for St. Stanislas Kostka, for whom she obtained to die on the day of her glorious Assumption, as Father Bartoli relates in his life of the saint.[1297]

EXAMPLE.

During the lifetime of this holy youth, who was wholly devoted to the love of Mary, it happened that on the first day of August, he heard a sermon of Father Peter Canisius, in which, preaching to the novices of his society, he fervently urged upon all, the important advice, to live every day as if it might be the last of their life, after which they were to be presented at the divine tribunal. The sermon being finished, St. Stanislas told his companions that this counsel had been for him especially the voice of God, for that he was to die on that very month. He said this either because God had expressly revealed it to him, or at least because he gave him a certain internal presentiment of what afterwards happened. Four days after, the blessed youth went with Father Emmanuel to St. Mary Major, and beginning to speak of the approaching festival of the Assumption, he said: “Father, I believe that on that day there is seen in paradise a new paradise, the glory being seen there of the mother of God crowned queen of heaven, and seated so near the Lord above all the choirs of angels. And if it is true that every year, as I believe it to be certain, this festival is renewed in heaven, I hope to see the next one.” The glorious martyr St. Lawrence, having fallen to the saint by lot as his monthly patron, according to the custom of that society, it is said that he wrote a letter to his mother Mary, in which he prayed her to obtain for him that he might be a spectator of this festival of hers in paradise. On St. Lawrence’s day he received communion, and after it supplicated the saint to present that letter to the divine mother, by interposing his intercession that the most holy Mary might graciously hear his prayer. At the close of this very day a fever came upon him, and although it was very light, he, however, from that hour esteemed it for certain that he had obtained the favor asked for him, namely, an early death. Indeed, on going to bed he said joyfully, with a smiling countenance: “From this bed I shall never arise.” And speaking to Father Claudius Aquaviva, he added: “I believe that St. Lawrence has already obtained for me the grace from Mary that I should be in heaven on the festival of her Assumption.” But no one thought much of these his words. The vigil having arrived, his malady continued to appear light, but the saint told a brother that he should die the next night, and the brother answered: “Oh, brother, it would be a greater miracle to die of so slight an illness, than to be cured.” But, behold, after noon he fell into a deadly swoon, and then came a cold sweat, and he entirely lost his strength. The superior hastened to him, and Stanislas prayed him to order him to be placed on the bare floor, that he might die as a penitent, which was granted in order to satisfy him, and he was laid on the floor on a mattress. Then he made his confession, received the viaticum, not without the tears of all present, for when the divine sacrament was brought into the apartment, his eyes kindled with celestial joy, and his whole countenance was radiant with holy love, so that he seemed a seraph. He also received extreme unction, and meanwhile did nothing but now raise his eyes to heaven, now look upon, kiss, and lovingly press to his breast, an image of Mary. A father said to him: “Of what use is it to wear that rosary around your hand, if you cannot recite it?” He answered: “It serves to console me, for it is something belonging to my mother.” “Oh, how much more,” said the Father, “will you be consoled by seeing her, and kissing, in a short time, her hands in heaven!” Then the saint, with his countenance all on fire, raised his hands, thus to express his desire of finding himself soon in her presence. Then his dear mother appeared to him, as he himself declared to those around him, and soon after, at the dawn of day on the fifteenth of August, he expired as a saint, his eyes fixed on heaven, without a motion, so that not until afterwards, when the image of the most holy Virgin was presented, and he made no movement towards it, it was perceived that he had already gone to kiss in paradise the feet of his beloved queen.

PRAYER.

Oh, our most sweet Lady and Mother, thou hast already left the earth, and hast reached thy kingdom, where thou sittest as queen over all the choirs of angels, as the holy Church sings: She was exalted above the choirs of angels in the celestial kingdoms: “Exaltata est super choros angelorum ad cœlestia regna.” We know that we sinners are not worthy of having thee with us in this valley of darkness. But we know also, that thou in thy grandeur hast never forgotten us in our misery, and by being exalted to such glory hast never lost compassion for us poor children of Adam, but rather that it is increased in thee. From the high throne then, where thou dost reign, turn, oh Mary, even upon us, thy pitying eyes, and take compassion upon us. Remember, too, that on leaving this world, thou didst promise not to forget us. Look upon us and succor us. See in what tempests and in how many dangers we are, and always shall be, till the end of our life arrives. By the merits of thy holy death, obtain for us holy perseverance in the divine friendship, that we may finally depart from this life in the grace of God, and thus come one day to kiss thy feet in paradise, and unite ourselves with the blessed spirits in praising thee, and singing thy glories, as thou dost merit. Amen.

DISCOURSE VIII. ANOTHER DISCOURSE ON THE ASSUMPTION OF MARY.

1st. How glorious was the triumph of Mary when she ascended to heaven! 2d. How exalted was the throne to which she was raised in heaven!

It would seem just that the holy Church, on this day of the Assumption of Mary to heaven, should rather invite us to weep than to rejoice, since our sweet mother has quitted this earth, and left us bereft of her sweet presence, as St. Bernard says: It seems that we should rather weep than exult: “Plangendum nobis, quam plaudendum magis esse videtur.”[1298] But no, the holy Church invites us to rejoice: “Let us all rejoice in the Lord, celebrating a festival in honor of the blessed Virgin Mary.”[1299] And justly, if we love this our mother, we ought to congratulate ourselves more upon her glory than upon our own particular consolation. What son does not rejoice, although separated from his mother, if he knows that she is going to take possession of a kingdom? Mary, to-day, is to be crowned queen of heaven, and shall we not make a feast and rejoice if we truly love her? Let us all rejoice, let us rejoice: “Gaudeamus omnes, et gaudeamus.” And that we may be consoled the more by her exaltation, let us consider, in the first place, how glorious was the triumph of Mary ascending to heaven; secondly, how exalted was the throne to which she was elevated in heaven.

First Point.—After Jesus Christ our Saviour had completed the work of our redemption by his death, the angels earnestly desired to have him with them in their heavenly country; hence they were continually supplicating him, repeating the words of David: “Arise, oh Lord, into thy resting-place, thou and the ark which thou hast sanctified.”[1300] Come, oh Lord, now that thou hast redeemed men, come to thy kingdom with us, and bring with thee also the living ark of thy sanctification, namely, thy mother, who was the ark sanctified by thee when thou didst inhabit her womb. Thus St. Bernardine puts it into the mouth of the angels to say: Let thy most holy mother Mary also ascend, sanctified by thy conception.[1301] At length, then, our Lord wished to satisfy this desire of those citizens of the heavenly country, by calling Mary to paradise. But, if he wished that the ark of the covenant should be conducted with great pomp into the city of David—And David and all the house of Israel brought the ark of the covenant of the Lord with joyful shouting, and with sound of trumpet[1302]—with far more splendid and glorious pomp he ordained that his mother should enter into heaven. The prophet Elias was carried up to heaven in a chariot of fire, which, according to the interpreters, was but a company of angels who raised him from the earth. But to conduct thee into heaven, oh mother of God, as Rupert the Abbot says, a company of angels was not enough, but the King of heaven himself, with all his celestial court, came to accompany thee.[1303]

St. Bernardine of Sienna is of the same opinion, namely: that Jesus Christ, in order to honor the triumph of Mary, came himself from paradise to meet and accompany her.[1304] And precisely for this object it was, says St. Anselm, that the Redeemer wished to ascend before his mother, not only to prepare for her a throne in that palace, but also to render her entrance into heaven more glorious, by accompanying her himself, with all the blessed spirits.[1305] Hence St. Peter Damian, contemplating the splendor of this assumption of Mary into heaven, says that we shall find it more glorious than the ascension of Jesus Christ; for the angels only came to meet the Redeemer, but the blessed Virgin went to glory met and accompanied by the Lord of glory himself, and by all the blessed company of saints and angels.[1306] Hence Guerric the Abbot represents the divine Word speaking thus: I descended from heaven upon earth to give glory to my Father; but afterwards, to pay honor to my mother, I ascended again into heaven, that I might thus be enabled to come to meet her, and accompany her by my presence to paradise.[1307]

Let us now consider how the Saviour really did come from heaven to meet his mother, and at the first interview said, to console her: “Arise, make haste, my love, my dove, my beautiful one, and come; for winter is now past ... and gone.”[1308] Come, my dear mother, my beautiful and pure dove, leave that valley of tears where thou hast suffered so much for my love; come from Libanus, my spouse, come from Libanus, come, thou shalt be crowned.[1309] Come with soul and body, to enjoy the reward of thy holy life. If thou hast suffered much upon earth, far greater is the glory that I have prepared for thee in heaven. Come there to sit near me; come to receive the crown that I will give thee as queen of the universe. Now, behold, Mary leaves the earth, and calling to mind the many graces she had there received from her Lord, she looks at it at the same time both with affection and compassion, leaving in it so many poor children, in the midst of so many miseries and dangers. And now Jesus offers her his hand, and the blessed mother rises in the air and passes beyond the clouds and spheres. Behold her now arrived at the gates of heaven. When monarchs make their entrance to take possession of their kingdom, they do not pass through the gates of the city, for either these are taken off entirely, or they pass over them. Hence the angels, when Jesus Christ entered paradise, cried: “Lift up your gates, O ye princes, and be ye lifted up, O eternal gates; and the King of glory shall enter in.”[1310] Thus, also, now that Mary is going to take possession of the kingdom of the heavens, the angels who accompany her cry to the others who are within: “Lift up your gates, ye princes, and be ye lifted up, O eternal gates, and the queen of glory shall enter in.”[1311]

And now Mary enters into the blessed country. But on her entrance, the celestial spirits seeing her so beautiful and glorious, ask of those who are without, as Origen describes it, and exclaim, all rejoicing in heaven in one (voice): “Who is this that cometh up from the desert, flowing with delights, leaning upon her beloved?”[1312] And who is this creature so beautiful, that comes from the desert of the earth, a place full of thorns and tribulation? But this one comes so pure and so rich in virtue, supported by her beloved Lord, who deigns to accompany her with so great honor. Who is she? The angels who accompany her answer: This is the mother of our King, she is our queen, and the blessed one among women, full of grace, the saint of saints, the beloved of God, the immaculate, the dove, the most beautiful of all creatures. And then all those blessed spirits begin to bless and praise her, singing, with more reason than the Hebrews said to Judith: “Thou art the glory of Jerusalem, thou art the joy of Israel, thou art the honor of our people.”[1313] Ah! our Lady and our queen, then thou art the glory of paradise, the joy of our country, thou art the honor of us all; be ever welcome, be ever blessed; behold thy kingdom, behold us, we are all thy servants, ready for thy commands.

Then all the saints who were at that time in paradise came to welcome her and salute her as their queen. All the holy virgins came: They saw her, and declared her most blessed ... and they praised her.[1314] We, they said, oh most blessed Lady, are also queens of this kingdom, but thou art our queen; for thou wast the first to give us the great example of consecrating our virginity to God; we all bless and thank thee for it. Then came the holy confessors to salute her as their mistress, who had taught them so many beautiful virtues by her holy life. The holy martyrs came also to salute her as their queen, because by her great constancy in the sorrows of the passion of her Son, she had taught them, and also obtained for them by her merits, strength to give their life for the faith. St. James came also, the only one of the apostles who was then in paradise, to thank her in the name of all the other apostles, for the great comfort and support she had given them while she was upon earth. The prophets next came to salute her, and they said to her: Ah, Lady, thou wast foreshadowed in our prophecies. The holy patriarchs came and said to her: Oh Mary, thou hast been our hope, so much and so long sighed for by us. And among those came our first parents, Adam and Eve, to thank her with greater affection. Ah, beloved daughter, they said to her, thou hast repaired the injury done by us to the human race; thou hast obtained for the world that blessing lost by us, on account of our crime; by thee we are saved, and for it be forever blessed.

Then came holy Simeon to kiss her feet, and with joy reminded her of that day on which he received from her hands the infant Jesus. St. Zachary and St. Elizabeth also came, and thanked her again for that loving visit, that with so much humility and charity she made them in their dwelling, and through which they received so many treasures of grace. St. John the Baptist came with greater affection to thank her for having sanctified him by means of her voice. But what could her parents, St. Joachim and St. Anna, say to her, when they came to salute her? Oh God! with what tenderness must they have blessed her, saying: Ah! beloved daughter, what happiness was ours in having such a child! Ah! be thou our queen now, because thou art the mother of our God; as such we salute thee and adore thee. But who can comprehend the affection with which her dear spouse St. Joseph came to salute her? Who can describe the joy that the holy patriarch experienced at seeing his spouse arrive in heaven with so much triumph, made queen of all paradise? With what tenderness did he say to her: Ah! my Lady and spouse, how shall I ever be able to thank our God as I ought for having made me thy spouse, thou who art his true mother? Through thee I merited on earth to attend upon the childhood of the incarnate Word, to bear him so often in my arms, and receive from him so many special favors. Blessed be the moments that I spent in life serving Jesus and thee, my holy spouse. Behold our Jesus; let us console ourselves that now he is no more lying in a stable upon hay, as we saw him at his birth in Bethlehem; he does not now live poor and despised in a shop, as once he lived with us in Nazareth; he is not now nailed to a shameful cross, as when he died for the salvation of the world in Jerusalem; but he sits at the right hand of the Father, as king and Lord of heaven and of earth. And now, oh my queen, we shall never more depart from his holy feet, where we shall bless and love him eternally.

Then all the angels came to salute her, and she, the great queen, thanked all for the assistance they had given her on earth, especially thanking the Archangel St. Gabriel, who was the happy ambassador of all her glories, when he came to announce to her that she was to be made mother of God. Then the humble and holy Virgin, kneeling, adores the divine majesty, and, wholly lost in the consciousness of her nothingness, thanks him for all the graces bestowed upon her solely by his goodness, and especially for having made her mother of the eternal Word. Let those who can, comprehend with what love the most holy Trinity blessed her. Let them comprehend what a welcome the eternal Father gave to his daughter, the Son to his mother, the Holy Spirit to his spouse. The Father crowns her by sharing with her his power, the Son his wisdom, the Holy Spirit his love. And all the three divine persons establishing her throne at the right hand of Jesus, declare her universal queen of heaven and of earth, and command angels and all creatures to recognize her for their queen, and as queen to serve and obey her. And here we pass on to the consideration of how exalted was this throne to which Mary was elevated in heaven.

Second Point.—If the human mind, says St. Bernard, cannot attain to comprehend the immense glory which God has prepared in heaven for those who have loved him on earth, as the apostle declares, who will ever attain to comprehend what he has prepared for her who bore him? “Quid præparavit gignenti se”? What glory did he prepare for his beloved mother, he who on earth loved her more than all men; who, even from the first moment of her creation, loved her more than all men and angels united! Justly, then, does the holy Church sing that Mary having loved God more than all the angels, she has been exalted above all the angels in heaven.[1315] Yes, she was exalted, says William the Abbot, above the angels, so that she sees no one above her but her Son, who is the only begotten Son of God.[1316]

Hence the learned Gerson asserts, that all the orders of angels and of saints being divided into three hierarchies, as the angelic Doctor declares,[1317] and St. Dionysius also, Mary constitutes in heaven a hierarchy of herself, the most sublime of all, and next to God.[1318] And as the mistress, St. Antoninus adds, is incomparably above her servants, so is the glory of Mary incomparably greater than that of the angels.[1319] And in order to understand this, it is enough to know what David said, that this queen was seated at the right hand of the Son: The queen stood on thy right hand: “Astitit regina a dextris tuis.”[1320] Which St. Athanasius exactly explained by saying: Mary is placed at the right hand of God.[1321]

The works of Mary, as St. Ildephonsus says, certainly incomparably surpassed in merit the works of all the saints, and therefore the reward and the glory she merited cannot be conceived.[1322] And if it is certain that God rewards according to merit, as the apostle says, “Who will render to every man according to his works;”[1323] it is also certain, says St. Thomas, that the Virgin, who excelled in merit all, both men and angels, must have been exalted above all the celestial orders.[1324] In fine, adds St. Bernard, let us measure the singular grace that she acquired on earth, and then we may measure the singular glory that she has obtained in heaven.[1325]

The glory of Mary, remarks a learned author,[1326] which was a full glory, a complete glory, is different from that which the other saints have in heaven. It is true that in heaven all the blessed enjoy a perfect peace and full content; yet it will always be true that no one of them enjoys that glory that he could have merited if he had loved and served God with greater fidelity. Hence, although the saints in heaven desire nothing more than what they possess, yet, in fact, there is something they could yet desire. It is also true that the sins which they have committed, and the time which they have lost, do not bring suffering; but it cannot be denied that the most good done in life, innocence preserved and time well employed, give the greatest content. Mary in heaven desires nothing, and has nothing to desire. Who of the saints in paradise, says St. Augustine, if asked whether he has committed sins, can answer no, except Mary?[1327] It is certain, as the holy Council of Trent has defined,[1328] that Mary never committed any sin, not even the least; not only she has never lost divine grace—never bedimmed it, but she has never kept it unemployed; she never did an action that was not meritorious; she never said a word, or had a thought, or drew a breath, that was not directed to the greatest glory of God; in a word, she never relaxed or stopped one moment in her onward course to God; she never lost any thing through negligence, for she always corresponded with grace with all her power, and loved God as much as she could love him. Oh Lord, she now says to him in heaven, if I have not loved thee as much as thou dost merit, at least I have loved thee as much as I could.

The graces of the saints were different in each, as St. Paul said: There are diversities of graces: “Divisiones gratiarum sunt.” So that each of them corresponding with the grace received, has rendered himself excellent in some virtue; one in saving souls, one in leading a life of penance, one in suffering torments, one in contemplation; hence the holy Church, when celebrating their festivals, says of each: And there was not found the like to him: “Non est inventus similis illi.” And as in their merits, so are they in heaven different in glory: For star differeth from star in glory: “Stella enim a stella differt.”[1329] The Apostles differ from the martyrs, confessors from virgins, the innocents from penitents. The holy Virgin being full of all graces, excelled each saint in every kind of virtue; she was the apostle of the apostles; she was queen of the martyrs, for she suffered more than all of them; she was the standard-bearer of the virgins, the model of spouses; she united in herself a perfect innocence with a perfect mortification; in a word, she united in her heart all the most heroic virtues which any saint has ever practised. Hence it was said of her: “The queen stood on thy right hand in gilded clothing, surrounded with variety;”[1330] for all the graces, privileges, and merits of the other saints were found united in Mary, as the Abbot of Celles says: The prerogatives of all the saints, oh Virgin, thou hast united in thyself.[1331]

Thus as the splendor of the sun exceeds the splendor of all the stars united, so, says St. Basil, the glory of the divine mother exceeds that of all the blessed.[1332] And St. Peter Damian adds, that as the light of the stars and of the moon disappears as if they were not, at the rising of the sun, thus Mary so far obscures in glory the splendor of men and of angels, that, as it were, these do not appear in heaven.[1333] Whence St. Bernardine of Sienna agrees with St. Bernard in asserting that the blessed participate in part in the divine glory, but that the Virgin, in a certain manner, has been so enriched with it, that it seems no creature could be more united with God than is Mary.[1334] Which is confirmed by the blessed Albertus Magnus, when he says that our queen contemplates God very near, incomparably more so than all the other celestial spirits.[1335] And the above-named St. Bernardine says, moreover, that as the other planets are illuminated by the sun, so all the blessed receive greater light and joy from the sight of Mary.[1336] And in another place he likewise asserts, that the mother of God, ascending to heaven, increased the joy of all its inhabitants.[1337] Hence St. Peter Damian says, that the blessed have no greater glory in heaven, after God, than to enjoy the presence of that most beautiful queen: “Summa gloria est post Deum te videre.”[1338] And St. Bonaventure: Next to God, our greatest glory and our greatest joy is from Mary.[1339]

Let us rejoice, then, with Mary, in the exalted throne to which God has elevated her in heaven. And let us rejoice also for our own sake, since if our mother has ceased to be present with us, by ascending in glory to heaven, she has not ceased to be present with us in her affection. Nay, being there nearer and more united to God, she better knows our miseries, and therefore pities them more, and is better able to relieve us. And wilt thou, as St. Peter Damian asks, oh blessed Virgin, because thou hast been so exalted in heaven, be forgetful of us miserable creatures?[1340] No, may God preserve us from the thought; a heart so merciful cannot but pity our miseries which are so great.[1341] If the pity of Mary for us was so great when she lived upon earth, much greater, says St. Bonaventure, is it in heaven, where she reigns.[1342]

Meanwhile let us dedicate ourselves to the service of this queen, to honor and love her as much as we can; for she is not, as Richard of St. Lawrence says, like other rulers, who oppress their vassals with burdens and taxes, but our queen enriches her servants with graces, merits, and rewards.[1343] And let us pray her with Guerric the Abbot: Oh mother of mercy, thou who sittest so near to God, queen of the world, upon a throne so sublime, satiate thyself with the glory of thy Jesus, and send to us thy servants the fragments that are left. Thou dost now enjoy the banquet of the Lord; we who are still on earth, like the dogs under the table, ask thy pity.[1344]

EXAMPLE.

Father Silvanus Razzi relates,[1345] that a devout ecclesiastic who had a tender love for our Queen Mary, had heard her beauty so much extolled that he ardently desired once to see his Lady, and with humble prayers asked this favor. The kind mother sent an angel to tell him that she would gratify him by allowing him to see her, but on this condition, namely, that after seeing her he should become blind. He accepted the condition. On a certain day, behold the blessed Virgin appeared to him, and that he might not become wholly blind, he at first wished to look at her with one eye only; but afterwards becoming enamored of the great beauty of Mary, he wished to contemplate her with both, and then the mother of God disappeared. Deeply grieved at having lost the presence of his queen, he could not cease weeping; not indeed for his lost eye, but that he had not seen her with both. Then he began to supplicate her anew, that she would again appear to him, and he would be willing to lose the other eye and become entirely blind. “Happy and satisfied,” oh my Lady, he said, “I will remain, if I become wholly blind for so good a cause, which will leave me more enamored of thee, and of thy beauty.” Again Mary was willing to satisfy him, and again she consoled him with her presence; but because this loving queen can never injure any one, when she appeared to him the second time, not only she did not take from him the other eye, but she even restored to him the one he had lost.

PRAYER.

Oh great, excellent, and most glorious Lady, prostrate at the foot of thy throne, we adore thee from this valley of tears. We rejoice at the immense glory with which our Lord has enriched thee. Now that thou art really queen of heaven and of earth, ah, do not forget us thy poor servants. Do not disdain from thy lofty throne, from which thou dost reign, to turn thy pitying eyes towards us miserable sinners. As thou art so near the source of graces, thou art able so much the more to obtain them for us. In heaven thou seest more plainly our miseries, and therefore thou must pity and relieve us the more. Make us on earth thy faithful servants, that we may thus go to bless thee in paradise. On this day, when thou hast been made queen of the universe, we also consecrate ourselves to thy service. In thy great joy console us also this day, by accepting us for thy vassals. Thou, then, art our mother. Ah, most sweet mother! most amiable mother! thy altars are surrounded by many people who ask of thee, one to be healed of some malady, another to be relieved in his necessities, one prays thee for a good harvest, and another success in some litigation. We ask of thee graces more pleasing to thy heart. Obtain for us that we may be humble, detached from earth, resigned to the divine will. Obtain for us the holy love of God, a good death, and paradise. Oh Lady, change us from sinners to saints. Perform this miracle that will redound more to thy honor, than if thou didst restore sight to a thousand blind persons, or raise a thousand from the dead. Thou art so powerful with God, it is enough to say that thou art his mother, his most beloved, full of his grace; what can he then deny thee? Oh most lovely queen, we do not pretend to behold thee on the earth, but we desire to go and see thee in paradise; thou must obtain this for us. Thus we certainly hope. Amen, amen.

DISCOURSE IX. ON THE DOLORS OF MARY.

Mary was queen of martyrs, because her martyrdom was longer and greater than that of all the martyrs.

Who can have a heart so hard that it will not melt on hearing of a most lamentable event which once happened in the world? There was a noble and holy mother who had but one only Son; and he was the most amiable that could be imagined, innocent, virtuous, beautiful, and most loving towards his mother; so much so, that he never had caused her the least displeasure, but always had showed her all respect, obedience, and affection. Hence the mother had placed on this Son all her earthly affections. Now what happened? It happened that this Son, through envy, was falsely accused by his enemies, and the judge, although he knew and confessed his innocence, yet, that he might not offend his enemies, condemned him to an infamous death, precisely as they had requested him to do. And this poor mother had to suffer the affliction of seeing that amiable and beloved Son so unjustly taken from her, in the flower of his age, by a barbarous death; for he was made to die in torment, drained of his blood before her own eyes, in a public place, upon an infamous gibbet. Devout souls, what do you say? Is this case and this unhappy mother worthy of compassion? Already you know of whom I speak. This Son so cruelly slain was our loving Redeemer, Jesus, and this mother was the blessed Virgin Mary, who, for love of us, was willing to see him offered up to the divine justice by the barbarity of men. This great pain, then, which Mary suffered for us—a pain which was more than a thousand deaths—merits our compassion and gratitude. And if we can return nothing else for so much love, at least let us for a little time to-day stop to consider the severity of the suffering by which Mary became queen of martyrs; for her great martyrdom exceeded in suffering that of all the martyrs,—being, in the first place, the longest martyrdom; and in the second place, the greatest martyrdom.

First Point.—As Jesus is called King of sorrows and King of martyrs, because he suffered in his life more than all the other martyrs, so is also Mary called, with reason, queen of the martyrs, having merited this title by suffering the greatest martyrdom that could be suffered, next to that of her Son. Hence she was justly named by Richard of St. Laurence, the martyr of martyrs: “Martyr martyrum.” And to her may be applied what Isaias said: He will crown thee with the crown of tribulation: “Coronans coronabit te tribulatione.”[1346] For that suffering itself which exceeded the suffering of all the other martyrs united, was the crown by which she was shown to be the queen of martyrs. That Mary was a true martyr cannot be doubted, as is proved by the Carthusian, Pelbart, Catharinus, and others; for it is an established opinion that suffering sufficient to cause death, constitutes martyrdom, although death may not then take place. St. John the Evangelist is revered as a martyr, although he did not die in the caldron of boiling oil, but came out more sound than he went in: “Vegetior exiverit quam intraverit.”[1347] It is sufficient to procure the glory of martyrdom, says St. Thomas, that any one should be obedient even to offer himself to death.[1348] Mary was a martyr, says St. Bernard, not by the sword of the executioner, but by the bitter sorrow of her heart.[1349] If her body was not wounded by the hand of the executioner, yet her blessed heart was pierced by grief at the passion of her Son; a grief sufficient to cause her not only one, but a thousand deaths. And from this we shall see that Mary was not only a true martyr, but that her martyrdom surpassed that of all the other martyrs, for it was a longer martyrdom, and, if I may thus express it, all her life was a long death.

The passion of Jesus commenced with his birth, as St. Bernard says;[1350] and Mary also, in all things like unto her Son, suffered her martyrdom through her whole life. The name of Mary, among its other significations, as the blessed Albertus Magnus affirms, signifies a bitter sea: “Mare amarum.” Wherefore to her is applied the passage of Jeremias: Great as the sea is thy destruction: “Magna est enim velut mare contritio tua.”[1351] For as the sea is all salt and bitter, thus the life of Mary was always full of bitterness at the sight of the passion of the Redeemer, which was ever present to her. It cannot be doubted that being more enlightened by the Holy Spirit than all the prophets, she better comprehended than they the predictions concerning the Messias, which they recorded in their holy Scriptures. Precisely this the angel revealed to St. Bridget.[1352] Whence, as the same angel declared, the Virgin knowing how much the incarnate Word was to suffer for the salvation of men, even before she became his mother, and compassionating this innocent Saviour, who was to be so cruelly put to death for crimes not his own, she commenced, from that time, her great martyrdom.[1353]

Her grief afterwards increased immeasurably when she was made mother of this Saviour. So that at the painful thought of all the sufferings which her poor Son was to endure, she indeed experienced, says Rupert the Abbot, a long martyrdom—a martyrdom continued through her whole life.[1354] And exactly this was signified by the vision which St. Bridget had at Rome, in the church of St. Mary Major, where the blessed Virgin appeared to her with St. Simeon, and an angel, having a sword which was very long and red with blood; by which was prefigured the long and bitter grief that pierced the heart of Mary during her whole life.[1355] Whence the above-named Rupert puts into the mouth of Mary the following words: Oh redeemed souls and my beloved children, do not pity me only for that hour in which I saw my dear Jesus dying in my presence, for the sword of sorrow, predicted to me by Simeon, pierced my soul during my whole life; when I was giving suck to my Son, when I was warming him in my arms, I already saw the bitter death that awaited him; consider then what long and cruel sorrows I must have endured.[1356]

Wherefore Mary might truly say in the words of David: My life is wasted with grief and my years in sighs.[1357] My sorrow is continually before me: “Dolor meus in conspectu meo semper.”[1358] My life was wholly passed in grief and tears; for my grief, which was compassion for my beloved Son, never departed from before my eyes, seeing, as I did, continually the sufferings and death that he was one day to endure. The divine mother herself revealed to St. Bridget, that even after the death and ascension of her Son into heaven, the memory of his passion, whether she ate or worked, was deeply impressed and ever recent in her tender heart.[1359] Taulerus therefore says, that Mary passed her whole life in perpetual sorrow; for her heart was always occupied with thoughts of sadness and of suffering.[1360]

So that time, which usually mitigates the sorrows of the afflicted, did not relieve Mary; nay, time itself increased her sorrow, for as Jesus increased in years, on the one hand, he continually showed himself more lovely and amiable; and on the other, the time of his death was ever drawing nearer, and grief at having to lose him on this earth, continually increased in the heart of Mary. As the rose grows up among thorns, said the angel to St. Bridget, so the mother of God advanced in years in the midst of sufferings; and as the thorns increase with the growth of the rose, thus this rose selected by the Lord, Mary, as she increased in age, was so much the more pierced by the thorns of her dolors.[1361] Having considered the length of this suffering, let us now pass on to the second point, namely, the consideration of its greatness.

Point Second.—Ah, Mary was not only queen of the martyrs, because her martyrdom was longer than that of all others, but also because it was the greatest of all. But who can measure its greatness? Jeremias appears to be unable to find any one with whom he may compare this mother of sorrows, when considering her great suffering at the death of her Son. “To what shall I compare thee, or to what shall I liken thee, oh daughter of Jerusalem; for great as the sea is thy destruction; who shall heal thee?”[1362] Wherefore Cardinal Hugo, commenting on these words, says: Oh blessed Virgin, as the bitterness of the sea exceeds all other bitterness, so thy grief surpasses all other griefs.[1363] Hence St. Anselm affirms, that if God, by a special miracle, had not preserved the life of Mary, her grief would have been sufficient to cause her death at each moment of her life.[1364] And St. Bernardine of Sienna even says, that the grief of Mary was so great, that if it were divided among all men, it would be enough to cause their immediate death.[1365]

But let us consider the reasons why the martyrdom of Mary was greater than that of all the martyrs. In the first place, it must be remembered that the martyrs suffered their martyrdom in the body, by means of fire or steel; Mary suffered martyrdom in her soul, as St. Simeon had before prophesied: And thy own soul a sword shall pierce: “Et tuam ipsius animam pertransibit gladius:”[1366] as if the holy old man had said to her: Oh holy Virgin, the bodies of the other martyrs will be torn with iron, but thou wilt be pierced and martyred in thy soul, by the passion of thy own Son. Now, as the soul is more noble than the body, so much greater was the suffering of Mary than that of all the martyrs; as Jesus Christ himself said to St. Catharine of Sienna: There is no comparison between the sufferings of the soul and the body: “Inter dolorem animæ et corporis nulla est comparatio.” Whence the holy abbot Arnold Carnotensis says, that whoever had been present on Calvary at the great sacrifice of the immaculate Lamb, when he was dying on the cross, would have there beheld two great altars, one in the body of Jesus, the other in the heart of Mary; for there, at the same time that the Son sacrificed his body in death, Mary sacrificed her soul in compassion.[1367]

Moreover, while the other martyrs, as St. Antoninus says,[1368] suffered by sacrificing their own lives, the blessed Virgin suffered by sacrificing the life of her Son, whom she loved far more than her own life; so that she not only suffered in spirit all that her Son suffered in body, but, moreover, the sight of the sufferings of her Son brought more grief to her heart than if she had endured them all in her own person. There can be no doubt that Mary suffered in her heart all the tortures by which she saw her beloved Jesus tormented. Every one knows that the sufferings of children are also the sufferings of their mothers, when they are the witnesses of them. St. Augustine, considering the anguish that the mother of the Macchabees experienced in witnessing the tortures which her sons endured, says: “She suffered in them all, because she loved them all; and endured with her eyes what they all endured in the flesh.”[1369] Thus also was it with Mary; all those torments, scourgings, thorns, nails, and the cross, which tortured the innocent flesh of Jesus, entered at the same time into the heart of Mary to complete her martyrdom. He in the flesh, she in the heart suffered, writes St. Amadeus: “Ille carne, illa corde passa est.”[1370] So that, as St. Lawrence Justinian says, the heart of Mary became as it were a mirror of the agonies of her Son, in which were seen the spitting, the scourging, the wounds, and all that Jesus suffered.[1371] And St. Bonaventure remarks, that these wounds which were scattered all over the body of Jesus, were all united in the one heart of Mary.[1372]

The Virgin, then, through compassion for her Son, was scourged, crowned with thorns, insulted, and nailed to the cross. Whence the same saint considering Mary on Mt. Calvary, where she was present with her dying Son, asks of her: Oh Lady, tell me where you then stood? Perhaps only at the foot of the cross! Might I not rather say thou wast on the cross itself crucified with thy Son?[1373] And Richard, remarking on the words of the Redeemer, which he spoke by the mouth of Isaias: “I have trodden the wine-press alone, and of the Gentiles there is not a man with me,”[1374] adds: Oh Lord, thou dost rightly say that in the work of human redemption thou didst suffer alone, and there was no man that could pity thee sufficiently; but there was a woman with thee, thy own mother, who suffered in her heart whatever thou didst suffer in thy body.[1375]

But all this is saying only too little of the sorrows of Mary; for, as I have before said, she suffered more in seeing her beloved Jesus suffer, than if in her own person she had endured all the tortures and the death of her Son. Erasmus has written, speaking of parents, generally, that they feel the sufferings of their children more than their own.[1376] But this is not always true. It was no doubt true of Mary, for she certainly loved her Son and his life far more than herself, and a thousand lives of her own. Therefore St. Amadeus well declares, that the afflicted mother, at the sorrowful sight of the agony of her beloved Jesus, suffered much more than if she herself had endured his whole passion.[1377] The reason is plain, since, as St. Bernard says: The soul is more where it loves, than where it lives: “Anima magis est ubi amat, quam ubi animat.” And the Saviour himself had before said, that our heart is where our treasure is.[1378] If Mary, then, through love, lived more in her Son than in herself, a much greater grief did she suffer at the death of her Son, than if the most cruel death in the world had been inflicted on her.

And here is to be considered the other circumstance that rendered the martyrdom of Mary far greater than the sufferings of all the martyrs, for in the passion of Jesus she suffered much, and she suffered without alleviation. The martyrs suffered under the torments which their tyrants inflicted upon them, but love to Jesus rendered their pains sweet and delightful. A St. Vincent suffered in his martyrdom; he was tortured on the rack, torn with hooks, burned with red-hot iron plates; but St. Augustine says: One seemed to suffer, and another to speak: “Alius videbatur pati, alius loqui.” The saint addressed the tyrant with such power, and with such contempt of his torments, that it seemed as if one Vincent suffered and another Vincent spoke, so greatly did his God, with the sweetness of his love, comfort him in the midst of his sufferings. A St. Boniface suffered; his body was torn with irons, sharp-pointed reeds were thrust between his nails and flesh, melted lead was poured into his mouth, and at the same time he could not often enough repeat: I give thanks to thee, oh Jesus Christ: “Gratias tibi ago, Domine Jesu Christe.” A St. Mark and a St. Marcellinus suffered; they were bound to a stake, their feet pierced by nails, and the tyrant appealed to them, saying: “Miserable beings, look at your condition, and save yourselves from these torments.” And they answered: “What torments, what pains do you speak of? We have never feasted with more joy than now, when we are suffering with pleasure for the love of Jesus Christ.”[1379] A St. Lawrence suffered, but while he was burning on the gridiron, the interior flame of love, as St. Leo says, was more powerful to cheer his soul, than the flames without were to torture his body.[1380] Hence love made him so strong, that he even braved the tyrant by saying to him: Tyrant, if you wish to feed on my flesh, a part is sufficiently cooked, turn and eat: “Assatum est jam, versa et manduca.” But in such torture and lingering death, how could the saint thus exult? Ah, St. Augustine answers, because, intoxicated with the wine of divine love, he felt neither torments nor death.[1381]

For the holy martyrs, the more they loved Jesus, the less they felt torments and death, and the sight alone of the sufferings of a crucified God was sufficient to console them. But was not our afflicted mother, also, thus consoled by love for her Son, and the sight of his sufferings? No, for this very Son who suffered, was the whole cause of her grief; and the love she bore him was her only, and too cruel executioner; for the whole martyrdom of Mary consisted in seeing and pitying her innocent and beloved Son, who suffered so much. Therefore, the more she loved him, the more bitter and inconsolable was her sorrow. “Great as the sea is thy destruction, who shall heal thee?”[1382] Ah, queen of heaven, love hath alleviated the sufferings of other martyrs, and has healed their wounds; but who has ever soothed thy great sorrow? Who has ever healed the cruel wounds of thy heart? Who will heal thee? “Quis medebitur tui?” if that same Son, who could give thee consolation, was by his sufferings the sole cause of thy sorrows, and the love that thou didst bear him, caused all thy martyrdom? Therefore, whilst the other martyrs, as Diez remarks, are all represented with the instrument of their passion—St. Paul with the sword, St. Andrew with the cross, St. Lawrence with the gridiron—Mary is represented with her dead Son in her arms, because Jesus himself alone was the instrument of her martyrdom, by reason of the love which she bore him. In a few words St. Bernard confirms all I have said: With the other martyrs their great love soothed the anguish of their martyrdom; but the more the blessed Virgin loved, so much the more she suffered, and so much more cruel was her martyrdom.[1383]

It is certain that the greater is our love for a thing, the greater pain we feel in losing it. The loss of a brother certainly afflicts us more than the loss of a beast of burden; and the death of a son, more than that of a friend. Now Cornelius à Lapide says, that to comprehend how great was the grief of Mary at the death of her Son, we should comprehend how great was the love she bore him.[1384] But who can measure that love? The blessed Amadeus says, that in the heart of Mary two kinds of love to her Jesus were united: the supernatural love with which she loved him as her God, and the natural love with which she loved him as her son;[1385] so that, of these two loves, one only was formed, but a love so immense that William of Paris even said, that the blessed Virgin loved Jesus to such a degree that a pure creature could not love him more.[1386] And Richard of St. Laurence says, as there was no love like her love, so there was no grief like her grief.[1387] If, therefore, the love of Mary for her Son was immense, immense, also, must have been her grief in losing him by death. Where love is greatest, says blessed Albertus Magnus, there grief is greatest: “Ubi summus amor, ibi summus dolor.”

Let us imagine, then, that the divine mother, standing near her Son dying upon the cross, and justly applying to herself the words of Jeremias, says to us: “Oh, all ye that pass by the way attend, and see if there be any sorrow like to my sorrow.”[1388] Oh ye that are passing your lives upon this earth, and have no pity for me, stop a while to look upon me, now that I behold this beloved Son dying before my eyes; and then see if among all who are afflicted and tormented, there be sorrow like to my sorrow. No, answers St. Bonaventure, there can be found no sorrow, oh afflicted mother, more bitter than thine, for no son can be found more dear than thine.[1389] Ah, there has never been in the world, says St. Lawrence Justinian, a son more worthy of love than Jesus, nor a mother who loved her son more than Mary; if, then, there has never been in the world a love like the love of Mary, how can there be a grief like the grief of Mary?[1390]

Therefore, St. Ildephonsus did not hesitate to affirm, that it was little to say that the sufferings of the Virgin exceeded all the torments of the martyrs, even were they united together.[1391] And St. Anselm adds, that the most cruel tortures inflicted upon the holy martyrs were light or nothing, in comparison with the martyrdom of Mary.[1392] St. Basil likewise writes, that as the sun surpasses in splendor all the other planets, so Mary in her sufferings exceeded the sufferings of all the other martyrs.[1393] A certain learned author[1394] concludes with an admirable sentiment, saying, that so great was the sorrow which this tender mother suffered in the passion of Jesus, that she alone could worthily compassionate the death of a God made man.

But St. Bonaventure, addressing the blessed Virgin, says: Oh Lady, why hast thou wished to go and sacrifice thyself also on Calvary? Was not a crucified God sufficient to redeem us, that thou his mother wouldst be crucified also?[1395] Indeed, the death of Jesus was more than enough to save the world, and also an infinity of worlds; but this good mother wished, for the love she bore us, likewise to aid the cause of our salvation with the merits of the sorrows which she offered for us on Calvary. And, therefore, says the blessed Albertus Magnus, as we are indebted to Jesus for what he suffered for love of us, we are also indebted to Mary for the martyrdom which she, in the death of her Son, voluntarily suffered for our salvation.[1396] I have added voluntarily, since, as the angel revealed to St. Bridget, this our so merciful and kind mother was willing to suffer any pain, rather than to see souls unredeemed or left in their former perdition.[1397] It may be said that this was the only consolation of Mary in the midst of her great sorrow at the passion of her Son, to see the lost world redeemed by his death, and men, who were his enemies, reconciled with God. Grieving, she rejoiced, says Simon da Cassia, because the sacrifice was offered for the redemption of all, by which wrath was appeased.[1398]

Such love as that of Mary merits our gratitude, and let us show our gratitude by meditating upon and compassionating her sorrows. But of this she complained to St. Bridget, that very few pitied her, and most lived forgetful of her sorrows. “I look around upon all who are in the world, if perchance there may be any to pity me, and meditate upon my sorrows, and truly I find very few. Therefore, my daughter, though I am forgotten by many, at least do not thou forget me; behold my anguish, and imitate, as far as thou canst, my grief.”[1399] In order to understand how much the Virgin is pleased by our remembrance of her dolors, it is sufficient to relate, that in the year 1239, she appeared to seven of her servants, who then became the founders of the order of the Servants of Mary, with a black garment in her hand, and told them that if they wished to please her, they should often meditate upon her dolors; and therefore she wished, in memory of them, that they would hereafter wear that garment of mourning.[1400] And Jesus Christ himself revealed to the blessed Veronica Binasco, that he takes more pleasure, as it were, in seeing his mother compassionated than himself; for thus he addressed her: “My daughter, the tears shed for my passion are dear to me; but loving with so great love my mother Mary, the meditation of the dolors which she suffered at my death is more dear to me.”[1401]

Wherefore the graces are very great which Jesus promises to those who are devoted to the dolors of Mary. Pelbart relates,[1402] that it was revealed to St. Elizabeth, that St. John the Evangelist, after the blessed Virgin was assumed into heaven, desired to see her again. This favor was granted him; his dear mother appeared to him, and Jesus Christ with her; and he then heard Mary asking of her Son some peculiar grace for those who were devoted to her dolors; and Jesus promised her for them the four following special graces: 1st. That those who invoke the divine mother by her sorrows, before death will merit to obtain true repentance of all their sins. 2d. That he will protect such in their tribulations, especially at the hour of death. 3d. That he will impress upon them the memory of his passion, and that they shall have their reward for it in heaven. 4th. That he will commit such devout servants to the hands of Mary, that she may dispose of them according to her pleasure, and obtain for them all the graces she desires. In proof of this, let us see in the following example how devotion to the dolors of Mary may aid our eternal salvation.

EXAMPLE.

We read in the revelations of St. Bridget,[1403] that there was once a lord as noble by birth as he was low and sinful in his habits. He had given himself by an express compact as a slave to the devil, and had served him for sixty successive years, leading such a life as may easily be imagined, and never approaching the sacraments. Now, this prince was about to die, and Jesus Christ, in his compassion, commanded St. Bridget to tell his confessor to visit him, and exhort him to make his confession. The confessor went, and the sick man told him that he had no need of a confessor, for that he had often made his confession. The confessor visited him a second time, and that poor slave of hell persevered in his obstinate determination not to make his confession. Jesus again directed the saint to tell the confessor to go to him again. He obeyed, and this third time related to him the revelation made to the saint, and that he had returned so many times because the Lord, who desired to show him mercy, had directed him to do so. On hearing this, the dying man was moved, and began to weep. But how, he exclaimed, can I be pardoned, when for sixty years I have served the devil, made myself his slave, and have laden my soul with innumerable sins? “Son,” answered the father, encouraging him, “do not doubt: if you repent of them, in the name of God I promise you pardon.” Then beginning to gain confidence, he said to the confessor: “Father, I believed myself lost, and despaired of salvation; but now I feel a sorrow for my sins, which encourages me to trust; and as God has not yet abandoned me, I wish to make my confession.” And in fact on that day he made his confession four times, with great sorrow; the next day he received communion, and on the sixth he died, contrite and entirely resigned. After his death, Jesus Christ further revealed to St. Bridget, that this sinner was saved, and was in purgatory, and that he had been saved by the intercession of the Virgin, his mother; for the deceased, although he had led so sinful a life, yet had always preserved devotion to her dolors, whenever he remembered them he pitied her.

PRAYER.

Oh my afflicted mother! queen of martyrs and of sorrows, thou hast shed so many tears for thy Son, who died for my salvation, and yet what will thy tears avail me, if I am lost? By the merits, then, of thy dolors, obtain for me a true sorrow for my sins, and a true amendment of life, with a perpetual and tender compassion for the passion of Jesus and thy own sufferings. And if Jesus and thou, being so innocent, have suffered so much for me, obtain for me that I, who am deserving of hell, may also suffer something for love of you. Oh Lady, I will say to thee with St. Bonaventure, if I have offended thee, wound my heart in punishment; if I have served thee, now I beg to be wounded as a reward. It is a shameful thing to see our Lord Jesus wounded, and thee wounded with him, and I uninjured.[1404] Finally, oh my mother, by the grief thou didst experience on seeing thy Son before thy eyes bow his head and expire upon the cross, I entreat of thee to obtain for me a good death. Ah, do not cease, oh advocate of sinners, to assist my afflicted and struggling soul in that great passage that it has to make into eternity. And, because at that time it may easily be the case that I shall have lost the use of speech with which to invoke thy name, and that of Jesus, who are all my hope, therefore I now invoke thy Son and thee to succor me at that last moment, and I say: Jesus and Mary, to you I commend my soul. Amen.

REFLECTIONS ON EACH OF THE SEVEN DOLORS OF MARY IN PARTICULAR.

ON THE FIRST DOLOR. OF ST. SIMEON’S PROPHECY.

In this valley of tears, every man is born to weep, and every one must suffer those afflictions that daily befall him. But how much more miserable would life be, if every one knew also the future evils which are to afflict him! Too unhappy would he be, says Seneca, whose fate was such.[1405] The Lord exercises this compassion towards us, namely, that he does not make known to us the crosses that await us; that if we are to suffer them, at least we may suffer them only once. But he did not exercise this compassion with Mary, who, because God wished her to be queen of dolors, and in all things like his Son, had to see always before her eyes, and to suffer continually all the sorrows that awaited her; and those were the sufferings of the passion and death of her beloved Jesus. For St. Simeon in the temple, after having received the divine child in his arms, predicted to her that this child was to be the mark for all the opposition and persecution of men: “Set for a sign which shall be contradicted;” and that therefore the sword of sorrow should pierce her soul: “And thy own soul a sword shall pierce.”[1406]

The holy Virgin herself said to St. Matilda, that at this announcement of St. Simeon all her joy was changed into sorrow.[1407] For, as it was revealed to St. Theresa, the blessed mother, although she knew before this that the life of her Son would be sacrificed for the salvation of the world, yet she then learned more particularly and distinctly the sufferings and cruel death that awaited her poor Son. She knew that he would be contradicted in all things. Contradicted in doctrine; for instead of being believed, he would be esteemed a blasphemer for teaching that he was the Son of God, as the impious Caiaphas declared him to be, saying: “He hath blasphemed, he is guilty of death.”[1408] Contradicted in his reputation, for he was noble, of royal lineage, and was despised as a peasant: “Is not this the carpenter’s son?”[1409] “Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary?”[1410] He was wisdom itself, and was treated as an ignorant man: “How doth this man know letters, having never learned?”[1411] As a false prophet: “And they blindfolded him and smote his face ... saying: Prophesy who is this that struck thee.”[1412] He was treated as a madman: “He is mad, why hear you him?”[1413] As a wine-bibber, a glutton, and a friend of sinners: “Behold a man that is a glutton, and a drinker of wine, a friend of publicans and sinners.”[1414] As a sorcerer: “By the prince of devils he casteth out devils.”[1415] As a heretic and possessed person: “Do we not say well of thee, that thou art a Samaritan, and hast a devil?”[1416] In a word, Jesus was considered as so bad and notorious a man, that no trial was necessary to condemn him, as the Jews said to Pilate: “If he were not a malefactor, we would not have delivered him up to thee.”[1417] He was contradicted in his soul, for even his eternal Father, in order to give place to the divine justice, contradicted him by not wishing to hear him when he prayed to him, saying: “Father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass from me;”[1418] and abandoned him to fear, weariness, and sadness, so that our afflicted Lord said: “My soul is sorrowful even unto death.”[1419] His interior suffering even caused him to sweat blood. Contradicted and persecuted, in a word, in his body and his life, for he was tortured in all his sacred members: in his hands, in his feet, in his face, in his head, in his whole body, till, drained to the last drop of his blood, he died an ignominious death on the cross.

When David, in the midst of all his pleasures and royal grandeur, heard from Nathan the prophet that his son should die—“The child that is born to thee shall surely die”[1420]—he could find no peace, but wept, fasted, and slept upon the ground. Mary received with the greatest calmness the announcement that her Son should die, and peacefully continued to submit to it; but what grief she must have continually suffered, seeing this amiable Son always near her, hearing from him words of eternal life, and beholding his holy demeanor. Abraham suffered great affliction during the three days he passed with his beloved Isaac, after he knew that he was to lose him. Oh God! not for three days, but for thirty-three years, Mary had to endure a like sorrow. Like, do I say? A sorrow as much greater as the Son of Mary was more lovely than the son of Abraham. The blessed Virgin herself revealed to St. Bridget,[1421] that while she lived on the earth there was not an hour when this grief did not pierce her soul: As often, she continued, as I looked upon my Son, as often as I wrapped him in his swaddling clothes, as often as I saw his hands and his feet, so often was my soul overwhelmed as it were with a fresh sorrow, because I considered how he would be crucified.[1422] Rupert the Abbot, contemplating Mary, while she was suckling her Son, imagines her addressing him in these words: “A bundle of myrrh is my beloved to me, he shall abide between my breasts.”[1423] Ah, my Son, I clasp thee in my arms, because thou art so dear to me; but the dearer thou art to me, the more thou dost become to me a bundle of myrrh and of sorrow, when I think of thy sufferings. Mary, says St. Bernardine of Sienna,[1424] considered that the strength of the saints was to pass through death; the beauty of paradise to be deformed; the Lord of the universe to be bound as a criminal; the Creator of all things to be livid with stripes; the Judge of all to be condemned; the glory of heaven despised; the King of kings to be crowned with thorns, and treated as a mock king.

Father Engelgrave writes, that it was revealed to the same St. Bridget, that the afflicted mother, knowing all that her Son would have to suffer, when suckling him, thought of the gall and vinegar; when she swathed him, of the cords with which he was to be bound; when she bore him in her arms, she thought of him being nailed to the cross; and when he slept, she thought of his death.[1425] As often as she put on him his clothes, she reflected that they would one day be torn from him, that he might be crucified; and when she beheld his sacred hands and feet, and thought of the nails that were to pierce them, as Mary said to St. Bridget: “My eyes filled with tears, and my heart was tortured with grief.”[1426]

The evangelist says, that as Jesus Christ advanced in years, so also he advanced in wisdom and in grace with God and men.[1427] That is, he advanced in wisdom and in grace before men, or in their estimation; and before God, according to St. Thomas,[1428] inasmuch as all his works would continually have availed to increase his merit, if from the beginning grace in its complete fulness had not been conferred on him by virtue of the hypostatic union. But if Jesus advanced in the esteem and love of others, how much more did he advance in Mary’s love! But, oh God, as love increased in her, the more increased in her the grief of having to lose him by a death so cruel. And the nearer the time of the passion of her Son approached, with so much greater pain did that sword of sorrow, predicted by St. Simeon, pierce the heart of the mother; precisely this the angel revealed to St. Bridget, saying: “That sword of sorrow was every hour drawing nearer to the Virgin as the time for the passion of her Son drew nearer.”[1429]

If, then, Jesus our King and his most holy mother did not refuse, for love of us, to suffer during their whole life such cruel pains, there is no reason that we should complain if we suffer a little. Jesus crucified once appeared to sister Magdalene Orsini, a Dominican nun, when she had been long suffering a great trial, and encouraged her to remain with him on the cross with that sorrow that was afflicting her. Sister Magdalene answered him complainingly: “Oh Lord, thou didst suffer on the cross only three hours, but it is more than three years that I have been suffering this cross.” Then the Redeemer replied: “Ah! ignorant soul, what dost thou say? I, from the first moment I was conceived, suffered in heart what I afterwards suffered on the cross.” If, then, we too suffer any affliction and complain, let us imagine that Jesus and his mother Mary are saying to us the same words.

EXAMPLE.

Father Roviglione, of the Company of Jesus, relates,[1430] that a certain youth practised the devotion of visiting every day an image of the sorrowful Mary, in which she was represented with seven swords piercing her heart. One night the unhappy youth fell into mortal sin. Going next morning to visit the image, he saw in the heart of the blessed Virgin not only seven, but eight swords. As he stood gazing at this, he heard a voice saying to him, that his sin had added the eighth sword to the heart of Mary. This softened his hard heart; he went immediately to confession, and through the intercession of his advocate, recovered the divine grace.

PRAYER.

Oh my blessed mother, not one sword only, but as many swords as I have committed sins have I added to those seven in thy heart. Ah, my Lady, thy sorrows are not due to thee who art innocent, but to me who am guilty. But since thou hast wished to suffer so much for me, ah, by thy merits obtain for me great sorrow for my sins, and patience under the trials of this life, which will always be light in comparison with my demerits, for I have often merited hell. Amen.

ON THE SECOND DOLOR. OF THE FLIGHT OF JESUS INTO EGYPT.

As the stag, wounded by an arrow, carries the pain with him wherever he goes, because he carries with him the arrow that has wounded him; thus the divine mother, after the prophecy of St. Simeon, as we saw in our consideration of the first grief, always carried her sorrow with her by the continual remembrance of the passion of her Son. Ailgrin, explaining this passage of the Canticles, “The hairs of thy head as the purple of the king bound in the channel,”[1431] says: These hairs of Mary were her continual thoughts of the passion of Jesus, which kept always before her eyes the blood which was one day to flow from his wounds. Thy mind, oh Mary, and thy thoughts tinged in the blood of the passion of our Lord, were always moved with sorrow as if they actually saw the blood flowing from his wounds.[1432] Thus her Son himself was that arrow in the heart of Mary, who, the more worthy of love he showed himself to her, always wounded her the more with the sorrowful thought that she should lose him by so cruel a death. Let us now pass to the consideration of the second sword of sorrow which wounded Mary, in the flight of her infant Jesus into Egypt from the persecution of Herod.

Herod having heard that the expected Messiah was born, foolishly feared that the new-born King would deprive him of his kingdom. Hence St. Fulgentius, reproving him for his folly, thus says: “Why, oh Herod, art thou thus disturbed? This King who is born has not come to conquer kings by arms, but to subjugate them, in a wonderful manner, by his death.”[1433] The impious Herod, therefore, waited to learn from the holy magi where the King was born, that he might take from him his life; but finding himself deceived by the magi, he ordered all the infants that could be found in the neighborhood of Bethlehem to be put to death. But an angel appeared in a dream to St. Joseph, and said to him: “Arise, and take the child and his mother, and fly into Egypt.”[1434] According to Gerson, immediately, on that very night, Joseph made this command known to Mary; and taking the infant Jesus, they commenced their journey, as it seems clearly from the Gospel itself: “Who arose and took the child and his mother by night, and retired into Egypt.” Oh God, as blessed Albertus Magnus says in the name of Mary, must he, then, who came to save men flee from men? “Debet fugere qui salvator est mundi?”[1435] And then the afflicted Mary knew that already the prophecy of Simeon, regarding her Son, was beginning to be verified: “He is set for a sign which shall be contradicted.”[1436] Seeing that scarcely is he born, when he is persecuted to death. What suffering it must have been to the heart of Mary, writes St. John Chrysostom, to hear the tidings of that cruel exile of herself with her Son! Flee from thy friends to strangers, from the holy temple of the only true God, to the temples of demons. What greater tribulation than that a new-born child, clinging to its mother’s bosom, should be forced to fly with the mother herself![1437]

Every one can imagine how much Mary must have suffered on this journey. It was a long distance to Egypt. Authors generally agree with Barrada[1438] that it was four hundred miles; so that at least it was a journey of thirty days. The way, as St. Bonaventure describes it, was rough, unknown, through woods, and little frequented.[1439] The season was winter, and therefore they had to travel in snow, rain, wind, and storms, and through bad and difficult roads. Mary was then fifteen years of age, a delicate virgin, unaccustomed to such journeys. They had no servant to attend them. Joseph and Mary, said St. Peter Chrysologus, had no man-servant nor maid-servant; they were themselves both masters and servants.[1440] Oh God, how piteous a spectacle it was to see that tender Virgin, with that newly born infant in her arms, wandering through this world! St. Bonaventure asks, Where did they obtain food? Where did they rest at night? How were they lodged?[1441] What other food could they have, than a piece of hard bread which Joseph brought with him or begged in charity? Where could they have slept (particularly in the two hundred miles of desert through which they travelled, where, as authors relate, there were neither houses nor inns) except on the sand, or under some tree in the wood, in the open air, exposed to robbers, or those wild beasts with which Egypt abounded? Ah, if any one had met these three greatest personages of the world, what would he have believed them to be but three poor, roving beggars?