“You will be a Carmelite.”

(Words of Our Lord.)

Previous to her entering the novitiate of Carmel, Perrine, retained in the world by her confessor, was destined by divine Providence to fill the office of little directress, or rather to be a pious little apostle among her young companions. Let us permit her to explain herself on this subject.

“I continued to work with my pious aunts, who employed many young girls in their service. These latter, observing that by the grace of God, I practiced virtue, and that I always looked cheerful and happy as my director had commanded, placed great confidence in me, and frequently consulted me in their little embarrassments of conscience and on their practices of piety. I taught them the method of mental prayer, and assisted them to advance in virtue: miserable sinner that I was, I had received grace in abundance from God and it was but just that I should be charitable to others. One of these young persons made such rapid progress in virtue, that she very soon surpassed her little directress and entered the religious state before I did. We conversed about our Divine Lord, the Blessed Virgin, and the glorious Patriarch St. Joseph, and also on the practice of virtue. Observing that they thus consulted me, who stood so much in need of counsel myself, I was afraid that I was acting contrary to humility and I sought the advice of my confessor. He told me to continue, that the piety of these young girls would supply my deficiency: this opinion tranquilized me and I continued to aid them as before. But during all my intercourse with them I never revealed what was passing in my own soul; I kept my secret to myself. I had no difficulty in teaching them the method of mental prayer, as I myself performed this exercise with the greatest ease, for the presence of my Divine Savior was so familiar, that I seemed to behold Him dwelling in my heart.”

We know from the testimony of others, that in order to give greater facility for audience to her young friends, our little directress prepared a small room in her father’s house, to which they had private and easy access. Here she received these pious young persons for a pleasant little “chat” as she termed it, dissimulating under this popular expression the role of confidence assigned her.

Those who desired could converse without restraint of their spiritual necessities. She taught them how to meditate, to examine themselves interiorly, and how to walk resolutely in the path of virtue, thus, to be prepared to meet all the possible dangers which might menace their innocence in the midst of the world in which they were destined to live.

“One of my companions was afflicted with a very extraordinary malady. The remedies prescribed by the physician giving her no relief, I had an intimate conviction that if she had recourse to the most Blessed Virgin, her distemper would be cured; and I advised her to wear a miraculous medal. We made a novena together, at the conclusion of which she was entirely cured. The graces which we thus received from our heavenly protectress inflamed us with a tender love for her. I prayed her unceasingly to break the chains which held me captive, and I frequently offered tapers to be burned before her altar. I prepared myself for the celebration of her feasts by novenas; and presented little crowns, bouquets of flowers, and other decorations for her altars. In fine, I tried my best to touch her maternal heart, that she might give me her divine Son for my heavenly spouse. So many offerings, though unworthy of being presented to the august Queen of heaven, were not regarded by her with indifference, for she soon removed one of my greatest difficulties, that of leaving my father.”

As we have seen, Perrine lost her mother when only twelve years old. “After the death of my mother,” said she, “my good father had no other desire but to serve God and his neighbor. He worked peacefully at his trade of locksmith, without any idea of ever marrying again; his life was modeled on that of St. Joseph. Every morning he assisted at the holy sacrifice of the mass, and at the benediction of the most Blessed Sacrament in the evening, when possible; notwithstanding his hard work he always observed the abstinences and fasts of the Church, and regularly approached His sacraments with the most edifying faith and piety. He was often visited with great tribulations which he bore with Christian-like fortitude and patience.”

His eldest son, Prosper, had left home and gone to America with Monseigneur de la Hailandière, to whom he was much attached. He settled at Vincennes in the United States, where he resumed his trade of locksmith, attending punctually to his business affairs, and giving there as well as when at home, the edifying example of a virtuous and Christian life.

But let us return to Perrine: “My eldest sister,” said she, “who attended to the household duties, was attacked with a long illness  and about the same time my father had conceived the idea that I was thinking of leaving him to embrace the religious state. This filled him with alarm and anxiety, for he did not wish to confide his house to the care of a servant. In his perplexity he made me the confident of his troubles hoping thereby to deter me from leaving him. I spoke to him rather ambiguously of my vocation, as I myself did not know when my confessor would permit me to enter the Carmelites, for he still continued his evasive answers and gave me very little hope, notwithstanding my earnest desire to quit the world. In the meantime, my dear father was preparing for the emergency; he spoke of his troubles to the parish priest, his confessor; this worthy pastor, held him in the highest esteem, for he often said that he was the best of his parishoners. Already aware of my intention of becoming a Carmelite, he advised my father to get married. My good parent was naturally of a very cold and retiring disposition, and as can be easily imagined, was not a little embarrassed in the execution of this project; but his kind friend, the priest, assured him that he would undertake to find a suitable companion; and at last, through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin, he was married to a most excellent woman whom we kindly welcomed to our home, and my father was happy.”

The sister concludes this artless narrative by enumerating the many other obstacles to be surmounted in the pursuit of her vocation.

“I thought I had at last reached the term of my sufferings and disappointments, and that the doors of Carmel were about to be opened to receive me. One of my aunts with whom I worked, decided to go to Mans to assist at the benediction of the new Carmelite monastery, and at the same time to visit one of the religious, an old friend of hers whom she loved very dearly; she told me that I might accompany her. This good news filled me with joy, and I hastened to my confessor, entreating him to allow me to take advantage of this excellent opportunity to accomplish my long cherished desire, he consented, and gave me a letter for the reverend mother prioress, telling me that I could enter the monastery of Mans if she was willing to receive me; he then, gave me his benediction, and I set out immediately with my aunt. We arrived on the eve of the ceremony at the monastery where we were most kindly received by the Carmelites: the next day I assisted at the benediction of a new refectory and a new cemetery. Oil the same day a postulant received the holy habit.”

“The cloister being thrown open for the occasion, we visited the interior of the convent. I entered the community room and there beheld those dear sisters, many of whom were from my own native province; nothing could have given me more pleasure than this visit. In the afternoon, I had the honor of speaking privately to the very reverend mother prioress, to whom I had presented my confessor’s letter the evening previous. I expressed my great desire of becoming a Carmelite. She told me that she had received positive orders from his Lordship the Bishop to admit no more subjects, as the house was then too small, every cell being occupied. Although disheartened by this information, I consulted her respecting my vocation, and spoke to her of my inward dispositions. She evidently saw that, notwithstanding my unworthiness, Our Lord had chosen me to be a child of Carmel, and kindly gave me some information on the rules of the order, expressing her regret at not being able to admit me; nor could she make any application in my behalf, as Monseigneur was at the time absent on a journey. She spoke very highly of the monastery of Orleans from which she had come to found the house at Mans, and promised to apply there for my admission.”

Our disappointed little postulant was thus obliged to return home and resume her ordinary duties. She entreated her confessor to make application for her entrance among the Carmelites of Orleans or those of Blois; however, he did not seem to be very sanguine about the matter.

“I was so importunate in my request that he must have been annoyed with me; his evasive answers were most discouraging. ‘We shall see to that’ or ‘God’s time has not yet come.’ One day I went to a chapel dedicated to St. Martin. It being his feast, his relics were exposed for the veneration of the faithful; I kissed them with great devotion, and also received holy communion in honor of this great saint of whom, at the time, I knew nothing; not even in what part of France he had exercised his holy ministry; but that was of little consequence to me then, overwhelmed as I was with grief and desolation. I addressed to him this simple and fervent prayer: ‘O holy Saint Martin, look down upon me in my sorrow. I desire to consecrate myself to God, but there is no one to take any interest in me or plead my cause. O holy Saint, I feel convinced that if you were now on this earth your heart would be touched at my distress and you would aid me to obtain the object of all my desires.’ I implored him to receive me in his diocese if there were any religious in it. St. Martin heard my prayer, for I am confident that it was through his intercession, I became a Carmelite at Tours. I had neither desired nor asked my confessor to enter the house of Tours, for I did not know that there was a Carmelite monastery in the city until I had been received there.”

In the meantime Our Lord was preparing her for the life of sacrifice which she was about to embrace, and for this end, had already bestowed upon her supernatural graces of the highest order.

“One day after holy communion,” said she, “I had a vision: Our Lord concentrated all the powers of my soul in his Divine Heart, and I seemed to behold therein a number of persons bound together by a golden chain, each, seemingly, bearing a cross. These were, without doubt, religious souls, for I recognized among the number, one of my friends who had embraced the religious life. It seemed that I, too, was enchained with them and I besought Our Lord to give me also a cross. He led me to understand that I must submit to his divine will for the present and await with resignation the accomplishment of his designs over me; insinuating that this was sufficient to bear for the present. ‘But, said He, ‘when you shall have entered religion, I shall give you another cross to carry.’ This promise remained so much engraved on my mind, that falling sick after I had entered Carmel as a postulant, I thought to myself:

‘Perhaps this is the cross which Our Lord promised me.’ But poor simpleton that I was, this was but a straw to carry in comparison to the cross which my good Master had in reserve for me after my profession. I am now convinced that the Work of Reparation with which the Lord charged me later, was the cross then predicted, for I found it in the Sacred Heart of Jesus. It was from that fountain of divine love that he spoke to me for the first time of this work which was to cost me so many sighs and tears.”

Thenceforth she had a very ardent affection for the most Sacred Heart of Jesus. “This devotion was my chief delight: and I earnestly engaged my companions to love and honor the divine Heart of my Savior. My sister was very ill at the time, and I advised her to have a novena of masses offered in reparation for the outrages committed against the Sacred Heart of Jesus in the sacrament of his love, with the intention of obtaining her restoration, if it were the divine will. She consented, and the masses were said in the chapel of the Visitation; for it was to a sister of this Order that our Divine Lord made known the devotion to his Sacred Heart. The principal altar of the chapel was dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. I assisted at these masses, during which I received the most extraordinary graces, a written account of which I gave to my director. I cannot recall them now as my mind was so penetrated with the ineffable love of Our Lord manifested to me in his divine Heart that I have only a confused idea of these heavenly favors, for it seemed that my soul was entirely lost in God. However, I am certain of one thing: that Our Lord showed me a cross, telling me it was on this he crucified his spouses. I think I must have been frightened, for soon after he added these words: ‘Be consoled my daughter; you will not be as inhumanly crucified as I was, the nails shall pierce though my flesh before touching yours.’ Doubtless, He wished by these words to assure me that He being the first to experience all the tortures and ignominies of the cross, the faithful disciples who followed in his footsteps would now find all its bitterness changed to delight.”

For some time Our Lord inspired her with a certain kind of prayer which she describes as “delightful,” but he soon gave her to understand that this inspiration would be withdrawn: and, in fact, shortly after she fell into a state of mental aridity. “Our Lord,” said she, “caused me to pass from Tabor to Calvary, according to his own good pleasure and the necessities of my soul; but as I was now more enlightened in the ways of God than during the period of my spiritual infancy, I passed through these interior trials without any detriment to  my soul.”

One grace which she esteemed far above all these extraordinary favors, was that of being able to alleviate the necessities of the indigent sick. “The Lord,” writes she, “endowed me with a love for giving alms; I had a small private fund which my dear father allowed me to dispose of as I thought proper. I would sometimes make a little offering to Our Lord, and then again to his holy Mother, in the persons of the poor and afflicted. A young woman came to dwell in our neighborhood, who soon after her marriage, had fallen ill of a long and painful malady which proved fatal: the charitable mission of preparing her for death fell to my lot. I placed a picture of the Blessed Virgin near her bed, that this good mother might come to assist her in her last moments. I was then quite young and had seldom confronted death. The poor, afflicted creature whom I encouraged by consoling words, desired that I should remain always at her side. She sent for me one night to inquire if she were soon going to die: I replied that in all probability Our Lord would soon call her to himself; she was then reduced to the last extremity. I do not remember distinctly but I think it was that same night that she was suddenly seized with terror at the sight of something invisible to us; it was the Angel of Darkness who had come to tempt her in this, her last moment. She suddenly screamed out: ‘Look at the large black cat at the foot of my bed!’— For my part I perceived nothing.— I sprinkled the bed with holy water. ‘I see it again!’ she exclaimed; we made a second aspersion and the Evil One was put to flight. “We continued praying for this poor creature, who expired before our eyes. She had received the last sacraments with the most edifying submission to the holy will of God and died very happily.”

“It so happened, that after her death, I and one of my friends, should be the only ones to prepare her for burial. I had the greatest repugnance to touch the dead, but as no one could be found to render this service to the poor deceased, I was obliged to do it myself.”

“The Divine Master in his infinite mercy thus offered me an excellent opportunity of cancelling a multitude of my sins, which were undoubtedly the cause of retarding my entrance into religion. The hour appointed by God was slowly approaching: I besought all the saints to intercede for me, and had recourse to the assistance of our holy mother St. Theresa. At home we had a picture of this saint, and when I was at table my eyes were always fixed on this portrait, so much so, that I was often more occupied in contemplating the picture than in eating my dinner. My father, who was then fully aware of my intention of becoming a Carmelite, often conversed with me on this subject. On one occasion, during dinner, he made me laugh heartly at his anxieties concerning my future bed at the convent. He had, no doubt, heard of some of the foolish notions entertained by people of the world regarding the austerities practiced by the Carmelites; he said, not without evincing great concern, ‘If the sheets are nailed to the four corners of the bed, how will you ever get into a bed thus arranged?’ ‘Oh!’ said I, ‘that is the least of my anxieties.”

“I was not content merely with praying to our holy mother St. Theresa, I read her life and made a list of her confessors, and of the holy persons who had assisted her in establishing the reform. I arranged them in a litany without examining whether they had been canonized or not. St. John of the Cross was the first on the list; and I added the names of the saints to whom I had a special devotion, hoping that with the aid of these powerful advocates the doors of Carmel might at length be opened to me. At last they were not regardless of this simple act of confidence, for it was on the eve of the feast of All-Saints that I was admitted to that happy asylum, the object of all my desires.”

Another trial was still in reserve for her. Her director fell ill, and was unable to hear her confession. Observing that she made no progress towards the attainment of her object, and being reluctant to importune her confessor, she made a last effort to interest in her behalf the ever blessed Virgin.

“I was inspired,” said she, “to undertake a pilgrimage in honor of Notre Dame de la Peinière, from whom I had already obtained m any favors. This chapel was in the parish of St. Didier, six leagues from Rennes. As I was well acquainted with its zealous pastor, and had also a friend residing there, I easily obtained permission to perform my pilgrimage. Full of confidence I set out with the intention of asking our Blessed Lady for the recovery of my confessor as a visible proof of my vocation; praying her at the same time to sever the many chains which held me captive in the world. ‘Ah,’ said I, ‘I am like a bird in a cage. I cannot find the smallest opening from which to make my escape.’ There was a good priest travelling in the same car with me, with whom I conversed during the journey. I spoke to him of the Blessed Virgin, and observing that it pleased him, I related many little incidents in her honor; I also spoke to him about the Arch-Confraternity of the Sacred Heart of Mary. This conversation afforded me much pleasure for I loved to honor and glorify the Blessed Virgin as much as I could. At length we arrived at St. Didier, and I directed my steps toward the church. There I offered my devotions, and Our Lord condescended to speak to me concerning my vocation.”

“To render what I am about to narrate more explicit, I must state that one of my reasons for fearing I would not be received by the Carmelites was, that my father was poor and could not give me more than six hundred francs ($100) on my entrance. I had asked assistance of a rich priest of my acquaintance, but he only expressed his regret at his inability to aid me in consequence of having recently met with considerable losses. Perhaps, I was wanting in confidence in the Providence of God. The communication which I had received from Our Lord, and to which I have previously hinted, filled me with consolation. I think that this time also He showed me a cross saying: ‘Is not a vocation of higher worth than gold?’ Thus giving me to understand that if in his infinite mercy he granted me the first grace, he could as easily provide the second, which was of minor importance. He then said: ‘Pray to my mother, and you shall obtain your request.’”

Full of faith and hope, Perrine continued her pilgrimage. This miraculous statue was in a very spacious chapel, which had been built a quarter of a league from the parish church. She cheerfully gave her little offering towards the completion of the chapel, and performed her visits for nine consecutive days, reciting the first part of the rosary going to the church, the second part in the chapel at the feet of the Blessed Virgin, and the third, on her return.

“Oh! how fervently I implored my Blessed Mother to take an interest in my vocation! What sweetness and consolation I tasted whilst at the feet of the consoler of the afflicted! She did not remain deaf to my entreaties, for I received from her divine Son the most wonderful graces during in y novena. For the honor of the most Holy Virgin, I sincerely regret not having preserved a written account of all those graces. I remember, however, that Our Lord commanded that I should be permitted to follow his will without more delay. I made an exact statement of all that had passed in my soul, and carried this important letter to the most Blessed Virgin, begging her to bless it and to touch the heart of him to whom I should remit it. ‘O my good Mother,’ said I with childlike simplicity, ‘I do not wish to spend this winter in sewing, I only desire to be occupied in praising your divine Son, and I therefore remit into your hands my scissors, needles, thimble etc., etc.’” Thus saying, she deposited the contents of her work-basket at the feet of the Blessed Virgin.

On her return to Rennes she found her director in better health, and presented him her letter, which produced a great impression on him. However, he tried to conceal it, but the effects were soon apparent, for he set to work in earnest to obtain her admission among the Carmelites; yet, in seeming opposition to her wishes, he proposed to her to enter among the religious Hospitallers of Rennes. “I feel no attraction for them,” said she, “yet I would prefer to enter among the Hospitallers rather than to remain in the world. How embarrassing! I knew of no other Carmelite convent than that of Mans, and there I could not be received. I did not know that there was a convent at Tours and one at Morlaix. I went to my little oratory and said to St. Theresa and to St. John of the Cross, of whom I had a picture: ‘Alas! you do not want to receive me then among your sisters!’”

She thought that the question of her portion might prove the greatest difficulty. She resolved to go and see the venerable priest who had directed her for two years and a half, and to whom she had been more than once a subject of edification. He was, then in his seventy seventh year, yet he had lost none of his faculties and fulfilled the duties of his ministry with as much activity as a young priest.

“I met him one day in the city; he seemed desirous of knowing if I really wished to be a sister, but as I had no intention of unfolding my plans in the middle of the street, I deferred my answer for a more suitable place; and as he possessed much of this world’s goods I proposed interesting his charity in my behalf. With this object in view I called to visit him one afternoon. It was here that Our Lord awaited me, to crown the long series of trials and humiliations to which I had been subjected. Through respect for this venerable servant of God, I knelt at his feet to speak on the subject of my vocation; but ignoring how well the soil of my poor soul had been ploughed and cultivated during the past five years, he desired to test my virtue in a very unexpected and mortifying manner. He took out his breviary and commenced to read without appearing to notice me, or to listen to what I was saying; after a few moments he arose quite abruptly and ordered me to leave. I respected the will of God manifested by his minister, and was not long awaiting my recompense. This trial was about the last I had to undergo during the remainder of my stay in the world. The worthy priest, agreeably to my desire had the goodness to present me a small sum of money.”

“But eight days, had elapsed since my return from my pilgrimage, and as I have said, the last time I saw my director he seemed quite decided to send me to the Hospitallers. I  was in painful anxiety, for I had such a desire to dwell in the desert of Carmel! The spirit of retirement, silence and prayer, had such an attraction for me, and in the order of the Hospitallers I would be obliged to take care of the sick, and what was still more repugnant, to prepare, for burial the bodies of the dead, of which I stood in mortal terror. Our Lord, in his goodness, relieved me from this embarrassment. He had promised to hear me through the intercession of his Blessed Mother, and he kept his word. The ninth day after my pilgrimage he revealed himself to me after holy communion, and with infinite condescension said the following words: ‘My child, I love you too much to permit that you should any longer he a prey to these perplexities! You shall not be a Hospitaller. This is only a trial to which you are being subjected. Even now matters are being arranged for your reception. You will be a Carmelite.’ This last sentence was repeated several times: ‘You will be a Carmelite;’ and I think Our Lord added, ‘a Carmelite of Tours.’ But I knew nothing of Tours, not even that the Carmelites had been established there. I feared that this was but an illusion, for I felt persuaded that my director thought no more of sending me to Carmel. What shall I do, said I to myself! I must write down this communication and take it to him according to my custom; but I was not particularly desirous of presenting this note: Oh! the infinite goodness of God! What was my astonishment when my confessor said to me: ‘My child, you have been received among the Carmelites of Tours.’. What delightful news! What happiness I enjoyed that day! What grateful thanksgiving I offered to our Blessed Lord and to his most Holy Mother for having so promptly heard the supplications and entreaties which I had addressed to them during my pilgrimage!”

“The letter which I had placed at the feet of our Lady de la Peinière and afterwards remitted to my director, had been the principal instrument in the accomplishment of the long cherished wish of my heart. My confessor had written to the mother prioress of Tours applying for my admission. This good, charitable mother immediately replied, that she would receive me with pleasure. But how was all this accomplished? Why had Our Lord made known so manifestly that it was his divine will I should enter at Tours, sixty leagues from my native place, whilst there were Carmelites at Nantes and at Morlaix so much nearer home? I asked my confessor if he had held any communication with the Carmelites of Tours. He informed me that once, when passing through Tours, he had had the idea of visiting the Carmelites, but that he had not gone and consequently was not acquainted with them. The reverend mother prioress had still less to do in bringing about this result, for she was greatly astonished that a priest of whom she knew little more than his name would apply to her for the admission of a postulant. What then was the solution of this mystery? Ah! I see it all. St. Martin had not forgotten the prayers offered in his chapel on the day of his feast, when I confided to him my sorrows and besought him to procure my entrance to one of the houses of his diocese.” Here again is another remarkable circumstance connected with this affair: “The reverend mother prioress of Tours had fixed the time of my entrance for the feast of All-Saints: a long delay for my ardent disposition, leaving two months still to be passed in the world. Nevertheless, this day was not appointed by mere chance, for I left Brittany on the very feast of St. Martin, who evidently wished to prove that it was he who was my liberator.”

“There remained still another question to be solved, my entrance-fee. But that was soon disposed of. As I have before stated, my father was a mechanic attending regularly to his business; but God often sent him severe trials. He had to meet the heavy expenses of the prolonged illness of my eldest sister who was still feeble. My brother had failed in business and it cost two thousand francs to re-establish him, towards which my good aunts contributed as much as they could. After all these outlays it was found impossible to give me more than six hundred francs, but Our Lord had given me to understand that he who had bestowed the vocation could also provide the dowry.”

“The Blessed Virgin, with a generosity equal to her power, compensated me for the alms I had offered for the construction of her new chapel, and a young lady named Mary with whom my director had made me practice the virtue of mortification, as a preparation for her entrance to a religious congregation, promised to contribute the balance.”

“What remained for me to do after such special graces from the most Blessed Virgin! Our Lord had well said: ‘Address yourself to my mother, it is through her you shall be heard:’ remarkable words, of which I have always preserved a lasting souvenir. There still remained the fulfilment of a sacred duty towards the Blessed Virgin Mary: that of offering her a grateful and earnest act of love. I solicited the permission to return to her holy chapel to offer her thanks for all the benefits granted me. I then bade farewell to my protectress, recommending to her the new state I was going to embrace, in which I would be attached to her divine Son by the sweetest ties of love. In the simplicity of my heart I again asked her for that dear Son as my heavenly spouse; she, at length, consented to give him, notwithstanding my unworthiness; my heart had now no other love and nothing more to desire, save the arrival of the happy day of our spiritual nuptials.”

On her return, as if to celebrate in advance what she termed her ‘nuptials,’ the many relatives of the future Carmelite assembled around her for the last time, and celebrated in her honor a modest little fête, touching demonstration of affection worthy of the Christian sentiments which animated the father of the young aspirant and her virtuous relatives. Each felt the regret natural at parting, but all united in praying for her perseverance, for they beheld therein a happiness for Perrine and a blessing for themselves. Their wishes were fulfilled far beyond their most sanguine expectations.

“For myself I most ardently desired the approach of the day of my departure. We were awaiting the arrival of a religious, travelling in the direction of Tourraine, to whose care I was to be confided for the journey; but as she did not make her appearance, and as I was burning with the desire to set out, my father decided to leave his business for some days that he might present me himself to the Lord. I bade adieu to my home and friends with much joy, although I loved them very tenderly, yet, I had such a longing to go and serve the Holy Family at Carmel that my natural feelings of sorrow at such a separation were easily stifled. I went also to bid adieu to him who had directed me in my vocation. He vouched for my perseverance. But fearing that the way in which the Lord would conduct me might not be in harmony with the community life, he said, ‘My child, endeavor to follow the common way; when a religious is conducted in an extraordinary manner she is obliged to demand an extraordinary confessor, which is not always convenient in a community.’ Then as if in a spirit of prophecy, he added: ‘Do quickly that which you have to do; hasten to sanctify yourself for your course will not be long.’ After some other counsels he gave me his last blessing and I departed.”