{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_7403/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_7403","id":"gutenberg_7403","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/7403","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: History - Medieval/Middle Ages","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Catherine, of Siena, Saint, 1347-1380 -- Correspondence","Christian women saints -- Italy -- Siena -- Correspondence"],"text":"Anne Soulard, Charles Franks, Robert Shimmin, and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team\n\n\n\nLETTERS OF CATHERINE BENINCASA\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: _The Ecstasy of St. Catherine\nDetail from Bazzis Fresco_]\n\n\n\n\nSAINT CATHERINE OF SIENA\nAS SEEN IN HER LETTERS\n\nTRANSLATED & EDITED WITH INTRODUCTION BY\nVIDA D. SCUDDER\n\n\n\n\nTABLE OF CONTENTS\n\n\nTable of Persons Addressed\nSt. Catherine of Siena as seen in her letters\nChief Events in the life of St. Catherine\nBrief Outline of Contemporary Public Events\nTo Monna Alessa dei Saracini\nTo Benincasa her brother, when he was in Florence\nTo the Venerable Religious, Brother Antonio of Nizza\nTo Monna Agnese, who was the wife of Messer Orso Malavolti\nTo Sister Eugenia, her niece at the Convent of St. Agnes of Montepulciano\nTo Nanna, daughter of Benincasa, a little maid, her niece\nLetters on the Consecrated Life\n    To Brother William of England\n    To Daniella of Orvieto, clothed with the Habit of St. Dominic\n    To Monna Agnese, wife of Francesco, a tailor of Florence\nLetters in response to certain criticisms\n    To Monna Orsa, wife of Bartolo Usimbardi, and to Monna Agnese\n    To a Religious man in Florence, who was shocked at her Ascetic\n    Practices\nTo Brother Bartolomeo Dominici\nTo Brother Matteo di Francesco Tolomei\nTo a Mantellata of Saint Dominic, called Catarina di Scetto\nTo Neri di Landoccio dei Pagliaresi\nTo Monna Giovanna and her other daughters in Siena\nTo Messer John, the Soldier of Fortune\nTo Monna Colomba in Lucca\nTo Brother Raimondo of Capua, of the Order of the Preachers\nTo Gregory XI\nTo Gregory XI\nTo Gregory XI\nTo Brother Raimondo of Capua, at Avignon\nTo Catarina of the Hospital, and Giovanna di Capo\nTo Sister Daniella of Orvieto\nTo Brother Raimondo of Capua, and to Master John III\nTo Sister Bartolomea della Seta\nTo Gregory XI\nTo the King of France\nLetters to Florence\n    To the Eight of War chosen by the Commune of Florence\n    To Buonaccorso di Lapo: written when the Saint was at Avignon\nTo Gregory XI\nTo Monna Lapa, her mother, before she returned from Avignon\nTo Monna Giovanna di Corrado Maconi\nTo Messer Ristoro Canigiani\nTo the Anziani and Consuls and Gonfalonieri of Bologna\nTo Nicholas of Osimo\nTo Misser Lorenzo del Pino of Bologna, Doctor in Decretals\nLetters written from Rocca D'Orcia\n    To Monna Lapa, her mother, and to Monna Cecca\n    To Monna Catarina of the Hospital, and to Giovanna di Capo\n    To Monna Alessa, clothed with the Habit of Saint Dominic\nTo Gregory XI\nTo Raimondo of Capua\nTo Urban VI\nTo her spiritual children in Siena\n    To Brother William and to Messer Matteo of the Misericordia\n    To Sano di Maco, and to all her other sons in Siena\nTo Brother Raimondo of Capua\nTo Urban VI\nTo Don Giovanni of the Cells of Vallombrosa\nLetters announcing peace\n    To Monna Alessa, when the Saint was at Florence\n    To Sano di Maco, and to the other sons in Christ\nTo three Italian Cardinals\nTo Giovanna, Queen of Naples\nTo Sister Daniella of Orvieto\nTo Stefano Maconi\nTo certain holy hermits who had been invited to Rome by the Pope\n    To Brother William of England, and to Brother Antonio of Nizza\n    To Brother Andrea of Lucca, Brother Baldo, and Brother Lando\n    To Brother Antonio of Nizza\nTo Queen Giovanna of Naples\nTo Brother Raimondo of the Preaching Order, when he was in Genoa\nTo Urban VI\nLetters describing the experience preceding death\n    To Master Raimondo of Capua\n    To Master Raimondo of Capua, of the Order of the Preachers\n\n\n\n\nTABLE OF PERSONS ADDRESSED\n\n\nAgnese, Monna, di Francesco\nAndrea, Brother, of Lucca\nAntonio, Brother, of Nizza\n\nBaldo, Brother\nBartolomea, Sister, della Seta\nBartolomeo, Brother, Dominici\nBenincasa, Benincasa\nBenincasa, Eugenia\nBenincasa, Monna Lapa\nBenincasa, Nanna\nBologna, Anziani of\n\nCapo, Giovanna di\nCanigiani, Ristoro\nCardinals, Three Italian\nCatarina, of the Hospital\nCecca, Monna\nColomba, Monna, of Lucca\n\nDaniella, Sister, of Orvieto\n\nFrance, the King of\nFlorence, Letters to\n\nGiovanna, Queen of Naples\nGiovanni, Don, of the Cells of Vallombrosa\nGregory XI.\n\nJohn, Messer, Soldier of Fortune\nJohn III., Master\n\nLando, Brother\nLapo, Buonaccorso di\n\nMaco, Sano di\nMaconi, Monna Giovanna di Corrado\nMaconi, Stefano\nMalavolti, Monna Agnese\nMatteo, Messer, of the Misericordia\n\nOsimo, Nicholas of\n\nPagliaresi, Neri di Landoccio dei\nPino, Lorenzo del\n\nRaimondo, Brother, of Capua\nReligious, A, in Florence\n\nSaracini, Monna Alessa dei\nScetto, Catarina di\n\nTolomei, Brother Matteo di\n\nUrban VI., Pope\nUsimbardi, Monna Orsa\n\nWar, the Eight of\nWilliam, Brother, of England\n\n\n\n\nLETTERS OF CATHERINE BENINCASA\n\n\n\n\nST. CATHERINE OF SIENA AS SEEN IN HER LETTERS\n\n\nI\n\nThe letters of Catherine Benincasa, commonly known as St. Catherine of\nSiena, have become an Italian classic; yet perhaps the first thing in them\nto strike a reader is their unliterary character. He only will value them\nwho cares to overhear the impetuous outpourings of the heart and mind of\nan unlettered daughter of the people, who was also, as it happened, a\ngenius and a saint. Dante, Petrarch, Boccaccio, the other great writers of\nthe Trecento, are all in one way or another intent on choice expression;\nCatherine is intent solely on driving home what she has to say. Her\nletters were talked rather than written. She learned to write only three\nyears before her death, and even after this time was in the habit of\ndictating her correspondence, sometimes two or three letters at a time, to\nthe noble youths who served her as secretaries.\n\nThe modern listener to this eager talk may perhaps at first feel wearied.\nSuffocated by words, repelled by frequent crudity and confusion of\nmetaphor, he may even be inclined to call the thought childish and the\ntone overwrought. But let him persevere. Let him read these letters as\nchapters in an autobiography, noting purpose and circumstance, and reading\nbetween the lines, as he may easily do, the experience of the writer.\nBefore long the very accents of a living woman will reach his ears. He\nwill hear her voice, now eagerly pleading with friend or wrong-doer, now\nbrooding tender as a mother-bird over some fledgling soul, now broken with\nsobs as she mourns over the sins of Church and world, and again chanting\nhigh prophecy of restoration and renewal, or telling in awestruck\nundertone sacred mysteries of the interior life. Dante's Angel of Purity\nwelcomes wayfarers upon the Pilgrim Mount \"in voce assai pi\u00f9 che la\nnostra, viva.\" The saintly voice, like the angelic, is more living than\nour own. These letters are charged with a vitality so intense that across\nthe centuries it draws us into the author's presence.\n\nImagination is inclined to see the canonized saints as a row of solemn\nfigures, standing in dull monotony of worshipful gesture, like Virgins and\nConfessors in an early mosaic. Yet, as a matter of fact, people who have\nbeen canonized were to their contemporaries the most striking\npersonalities among men and women striving for righteousness. They were\nall, to be sure, very good; but goodness, despite a curious prejudice to\nthe contrary, admits more variety in type than wickedness, and produces\nmore interesting characters. Catherine Benincasa was probably the most\nremarkable woman of the fourteenth century, and her letters are the\nprecious personal record of her inner as of her outer life. With all their\ntransparent simplicity and mediaeval quaintness, with all the occasional\nplebeian crudity of their phrasing, they reveal a nature at once so many-\nsided and so exalted that the sensitive reader can but echo the judgment\nof her countrymen, who see in the dyer's daughter of Siena one of the most\nsignificant authors of a great age.\n\n\nII\n\nAs is the case with many great letter-writers, though not with all,\nCatherine reveals herself largely through her relations with others. Some\nof her letters, indeed, are elaborate religious or political treatises,\nand seem at first sight to have little personal colouring; yet even these\nyield their full content of spiritual beauty and wisdom only when one\nknows the circumstances that called them forth and the persons to whom\nthey were addressed. A mere glance at the index to her correspondence\nshows how widely she was in touch with her time. She was a woman of\npersonal charm and of sympathies passionately wide, and she gathered\naround her friends and disciples from every social group in Italy, not to\nspeak of many connections formed with people in other lands. She wrote to\nprisoners and outcasts; to great nobles and plain business men; to\nphysicians, lawyers, soldiers of fortune; to kings and queens and\ncardinals and popes; to recluses pursuing the Beatific Vision, and to men\nand women of the world plunged in the lusts of the flesh and governed by\nthe pride of life. The society of the fourteenth century passes in review\nas we turn the pages.\n\nCatherine wrote to all these people in the same simple spirit. With one\nand all she was at home, for all were to her, by no merely formal phrase,\n\"dearest brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus.\" One knows not whether to\nbe more struck by the outspoken fearlessness of the woman or by her great\nadaptability. She could handle with plain directness the crudest sins of\nher age; she could also treat with subtle insight the most elusive phases\nof spiritual experience. No greater distance can be imagined than that\nwhich separates the young Dominican with her eyes full of visions from a\nman like Sir John Hawkwood, reckless free-lance, selling his sword with\nlight-hearted zeal to the highest bidder, and battening on the disorder of\nthe times. Catherine writes to him with gentlest assumption of fellowship,\nseizes on his natural passions and tastes, and seeks to sanctify the\nmilitary life of his affections. With her sister nuns the method changes.\nShe gives free play to her delicate fancy, drawing her metaphors from the\nbeauty of nature, from tender, homely things, from the gentle arts and\ninstincts of womanhood. Does she speak to Pope Gregory, the timid? Her\nwords are a trumpet-call. To the harsh Urban, his successor? With finest\ntact she urges self-restraint and a policy of moderation. Temperaments of\nevery type are to be met in her pages--a sensitive poet, troubled by\n\"confusion of thought\" deepening into melancholia; a harum-scarum boy, in\nwhose sunny joyousness she discerns the germ of supernatural grace;\nvehement sinners, fearful saints, religious recluses deceived by self-\nrighteousness, and men of affairs devoutly faithful to sober duty.\nCatherine enters into every consciousness. As a rule we associate with\nvery pure and spiritual women, even if not cloistered, a certain deficient\nsense of reality. We cherish them, and shield them from harsh contact with\nthe world, lest the fine flower of their delicacy be withered. But no one\nseems to have felt in this way about Catherine. Her \"love for souls\" was\nno cold electric illumination such as we sometimes feel the phrase to\nimply, but a warm understanding tenderness for actual men and women. It\nwould be hard to exaggerate her knowledge of the world and of human\nhearts.\n\nYet sometimes Catherine appears to us austere and exacting; unsparing in\ncondemnation, and unrelenting in her demands on those she loves. Many of\nher letters are in a strain of exhortation that rises into rebuke. The\nimpression at first is unpleasant. We are tempted to feel this unfailing\ncandour captious; to resent the note of authority, equally clear whether\nshe write to Pope or Cardinal; to suspect Catherine, in a word, of\nassuming that very judicial attitude which she constantly deprecates as\nunbecoming to us poor mortals. And perhaps the very frequency of her plea\nfor tolerance and forbearance suggests a conscious weakness. Like most\nbrilliant and ardent people, she was probably by nature of a critical and\nimpatient disposition; she was, moreover, a plebeian. At times, when she\nis quite sure that men are on the side of the devil, she allows her\ninstinctive frankness full scope; it must be allowed that the result is\nastounding. Yet even as we catch our breath we realise that her remarks\nwere probably justified. It is hard for us moderns to remember how crudely\nhideous were the sins which she faced. In these days, when we are all\nreduced to one apparent level of moral respectability, and great\nsaintliness and dramatic guilt are alike seldom conspicuous, we forget the\nviolent contrasts of the middle ages. Pure \"Religious,\" striving after the\nexalted perfection enjoined by the Counsels, moved habitually among moral\natrocities, and bold vigour of speech was a practical duty. Catherine\nhandled without evasion the grossest evils of her time, and the spell\nwhich she exercised by simple force of direct dealing was nothing less\nthan extraordinary.\n\nIt is easy to see why Catherine's plain speaking was not resented. She\nrarely begins with rebuke. The note of humility is first struck; she is\nalways \"servant and slave of the servants of Jesus Christ.\" Thence she\nfrequently passes into fervent meditation on some special theme: the\nexceeding wonder of the Divine Love, the duty of prayer, the nature of\nobedience. We are lifted above the world into a region of heavenly light\nand sweetness, when suddenly--a blow from the shoulder!--a startling sense\nof return to earth. From the contemplation of the beauty of holiness,\nCatherine has swiftly turned us to face the opposing sin. \"Thou art the\nman!\" A few trenchant sentences, charged with pain, and the soul which has\nbeen raised to celestial places awakes to see in itself the contradiction\nof all that is so lovely. Into the region of darkness Catherine goes with\nit. It is not \"thou\" but \"we\" who have sinned. She holds that sinful heart\nso near her own that the beatings are confounded; her words now and again\nexpress a shuddering personal remorse for sins of which she could have had\nno personal knowledge. Her sense of unity with her fellow-men lies deeper\nthan any theory of brotherhood; she feels herself in sober truth guilty of\nthe sins of her brothers: her experience illustrates the profound truth\nthat only purity can know perfect penitence.\n\nCatherine is then saved from any touch of Pharisaism by her remarkable\nidentification of herself with the person to whom she writes. But to\nunderstand her attitude we must go further. For she never pauses in\nreprobation of evil. Full of conviction that the soul needs only to\nrecognise its sin to hate and escape it for ever, she passes swiftly on to\nimpassioned appeal. Her words breathe a confidence in men that never fails\neven when she is writing to the most hardened. She succeeded to a rare\ndegree in the difficult conciliation of uncompromising hatred toward sin\nwith unstrained fellowship with the sinner, and invincible trust in his\nresponsiveness to the appeal of virtue. When we consider the times in\nwhich she lived, this large and touching trustfulness becomes to our eyes\na victory of faith. That it was no mere instinct, but an attitude\nresolutely adopted and maintained, is evident from her frequent\ndiscussions of charity and tolerance, some of which will be found in these\nselections. She constantly urges her disciples to put the highest possible\nconstruction on their neighbours' actions; nor is any phase of her\nteaching more constantly repeated than the beautiful application of the\ntext: \"In My Father's House are many mansions,\" to enjoin recognition of\nthe varieties in temperament and character and practice which may coexist\nin the House of God.\n\nCatherine had learned a hard lesson. She saw in human beings not their\nachievements, but their possibilities. Therefore she quickened repentance\nby a positive method, not by morbid analysis of evil, not by lurid\npictures of the consequences of sin, but by filling the soul with glowing\nvisions of that holiness which to see is to long for. She never despaired\nof quickening in even the most degraded that flame of \"holy desire\" which\nis the earnest of true holiness to be. We find her impatient of mint and\ncummin, of over-anxious self-scrutiny. \"Strive that your holy desires\nincrease,\" she writes to a correspondent; \"and let all these other things\nalone.\" \"I, Catherine--write to you--with desire\": so open all her\nletters. Holy Desire! It is not only the watchword of her teaching: it is\nalso the true key to her personality.\n\n\nIII\n\nWe have dwelt on Catherine, the friend and guide of souls; but it is\nCatherine the mystic, Catherine the friend of God, before whom the ages\nbend in reverence. The final value of her letters lies in their\nrevelation, not of her dealings with other souls, but of God's dealings\nwith her own.\n\nBut in presence of the record of these deep experiences, silence is better\nthan words: is, indeed, for most of us the only possible attitude. The\nletters that follow must speak for themselves. The clarity of mind which\nCatherine always preserved, even in moments of highest exaltation, and her\nloving eagerness to share her most sacred experiences with those dear to\nher, have given her a power of expression that has produced pages of\nunsurpassed interest and value, alike for the psychologist and for the\nbeliever. Moreover--and this we well may note--her letters enable us to\napprehend with singularly happy intimacy, the natural character and\ndisposition of her whom these high things befell. In the very cadence of\ntheir impetuous phrasing, in their swift dramatic changes, in their\nmarvellous blending of sweetness and virility, they show us the woman.\nSome of them, especially those to her family and friends, are of almost\nchildlike simplicity and homely charm; others, among the most famous of\ntheir kind, deal with mystical, or if we choose so to put it, with\nsupernatural experience: in all alike, we feel a heart akin to our own,\nthough larger and more tender.\n\nThe central fact in Catherine's nature was her rapt and absolute\nperception of the Love of God, as the supreme reality in the universe.\nThis Love, as manifested in creation, in redemption, and in the sacrament\nof the Altar, is the theme of her constant meditations. One little phrase,\ncharged with a lyric poignancy, sings itself again and again, enlightening\nher more sober prose: \"For nails would not have held God-and-Man fast to\nthe Cross, had love not held Him there.\" Her conceptions are positive, not\nnegative, and joyous adoration is the substance of her faith.\n\nBut the letters show us that this faith was not won nor kept without sharp\nstruggle. We have in them no presentation of a calm spirit, established on\ntranquil heights of unchanging vision, above our \"mortal moral strife.\"\nCatherine is, as we can see, a woman of many moods--very sensitive, very\nloving. She shows a touching dependence on those she loves, and an\ninveterate habit of idealising them, which leads to frequent disillusion.\nShe is extremely eager and intense about little things as well as great;\nhers is a truly feminine seriousness over the detail of living. She is\nkeenly and humanly interested in life on this earth, differing in this\nrespect from some canonized persons who seem always to be enduring it\n_faute de mieux_. And, as happens to all sensitive people who refuse to\nseclude themselves in dreams, life went hard with her. Hers was a frail\nand suffering body, and a tossed and troubled spirit; wounded in the house\nof her friends, beset by problem, shaken with doubt and fear by the\nspectacle presented to her by the world and the Church of Christ. The\nletters tell us how these, her sorrows and temptations, were not separated\nfrom the life of faith, but a true portion of it: how she carried them\ninto the Divine Presence, and what high reassurance awaited her there.\nOrdinary mortals are inclined to think that supernatural experience\nremoves the saints to a perplexing distance. In Catherine's case, however,\nwe become aware as we study the record that it brings her nearer us. For\nthese experiences, far from being independent of her outer life, are in\nclosest relation with it; even the highest and most mysterious, even those\nin which the symbolism seems most remote from the modern mind, can be\ntranslated by the psychologist without difficulty into modern terms. They\nspring from the problems of her active life; they bring her renewed\nstrength and wisdom for her practical duties. An age, which like our own\nplaces peculiar emphasis and value on the type of sanctity which promptly\nexpresses itself through the deed, should feel for Catherine Benincasa an\nespecial honour. She is one of the purest of Contemplatives; she knows,\nwhat we to-day too often forget, that the task is impossible without the\nvision. But it follows directly upon the vision, and this great mediaeval\nmystic is one of the most efficient characters of her age.\n\n\nIV\n\nCatherine's soaring imagination lifted her above the circle of purely\npersonal interests, and made her a force of which history is cognisant in\nthe public affairs of her day. She is one of a very small number of women\nwho have exerted the influence of a statesman by virtue, not of feminine\nattractions, but of conviction and intellectual power. It is impossible to\nunderstand her letters without some recognition of the public drama of the\ntime.\n\nTwo great ideals of unity--one Roman, one Christian in origin--had\npossessed the middle ages. In the strength of them the wandering barbaric\nhordes had been reduced to order, and Western Europe had been trained into\nsome perception of human fellowship. Of these two unifying forces, the\nimperialistic ideal was moribund in Catherine's time: not even a Dante,\nborn fifty years after his true date, could have held to it. Remained the\nideal of the Church universal, and to this last hope of a peaceful\ncommonwealth that should include all humanity, the idealists clung in\ndesperation.\n\nBut alas for the faith of idealists when fact gives theory the lie! What\nat this time was the unity of mankind in the Church but a formal\nhypothesis? The keystone of her all-embracing arch was the Papacy. But the\nPope no longer sat heir of the Caesars in the seat of the Apostles; for\nseventy years he had been a practical dependant of the French king, living\nin pleasant Provence. Neither the scorn of Dante, nor the eloquence of\nPetrarch, nor the warnings of holy men, had prevailed on the popes to\nreturn to Italy, and make an end of the crying scandal which was the\nevident contradiction of the Christian dream. Meantime, the city of the\nCaesars lay waste and wild; the clergy was corrupt almost past belief; the\ndreaded Turk was gathering his forces, a menace to Christendom itself. The\ntimes were indeed evil, and the \"servants of God,\" of whom then, as now,\nthere were no inconsiderable number, withdrew for the most part into\nspiritual or literal seclusion, and in the quietude of cloister or forest\ncell busied themselves with the concerns of their own souls.\n\nNot so Catherine Benincasa. She had known that temptation and conquered\nit. After her reception as a Dominican Tertiary, she had possessed the\nextraordinary resolution to live for three years the recluse life, not in\nthe guarded peace of a convent, but in her own room at home, in the noisy\nand overcrowded house where a goodly number of her twenty-four brothers\nand sisters were apparently still living. And these had been years of\ninestimable preciousness; but they came to an end at the command of God,\nspeaking through the constraining impulse of her love for men. From the\nmystical retirement in which she had long lived alone with her Beloved,\nshe emerged into the world. And the remarkable fact is that in no respect\ndid she blench from the situation as she found it. She \"faced life\nsteadily and faced it whole.\" A Europe ravaged by dissensions lay before\nher; a Church which gave the lie to its lofty theories, no less by the\nhateful worldliness of its prelates than by its indifferent abandonment of\nthe Seat of Peter. Above this sorry spectacle the mind of Catherine soared\nstraight into an upper region, where only the greatest minds of the day\nwere her comrades. Her fellow-citizens were unable to entertain the idea\neven of civic peace within the limits of their own town; but patriotic\ndevotion to all Italy fired her great heart. More than this--her instinct\nfor solidarity forced her to dwell in the thought of a world-embracing\nbrotherhood. Her hopes were centred, not like Dante's in the Emperor the\nheir of the Caesars, but in the Pope the heir of Christ. Despite the\ncorruption from which she recoiled with horror, despite the Babylonian\ncaptivity at Avignon, she saw in the Catholic Church that image of a pure\nuniversal fellowship which the noblest Catholics of all ages have\ncherished. To the service of the Church, therefore, her life was\ndedicated; it was to her the Holy House of Reconciliation, wherein all\nnations should dwell in unity; and only by submission to its authority\ncould the woes of Italy be healed.\n\nCatherine's letters on public affairs--historical documents of recognised\nimportance--give us her practical programme. It was formed in the light of\nthat faith which she always describes as \"the eye of the mind.\" She was\ncalled during her brief years of political activity to meet three chief\nissues: the absence of the Pope from Italy; the rebellion of the Tuscan\ncities, headed by Florence, against his authority; and at a later time the\ngreat Schism, which broke forth under Urban VI. During her last five years\nshe was absorbed in ecclesiastical affairs. In certain of her immediate\naims she succeeded, in others she failed. It would be hard to say whether\nher success or her failure involved the greater tragedy. For behind all\nthese aims was a larger ideal that was not to be realised--the dream,\nentertained as passionately by Catherine Benincasa as by Savonarola or by\nLuther, of thorough Church-reform. Catherine at Avignon, pleading this\ngreat cause in the frivolous culture and dainty pomp of the place;\nCatherine at Rome, defending to her last breath the legal rights of a Pope\nwhom she could hardly have honoured, and whose claims she saw defended by\nextremely doubtful means--is a figure as pathetic as heroic. Few sorrows\nare keener than to work with all one's energies to attain a visible end\nfor the sake of a spiritual result, and, attaining that end, to find the\nresult as far as ever. This sorrow was Catherine's. The external successes\nwhich she won--considerable enough to secure her a place in history--\navailed nothing to forward the greater aim for which she worked. Gregory\nXI., under her magnetic inspiration, gathered strength, indeed, to make a\npersonal sacrifice and to return to Rome, but he was of no calibre to\nattempt radical reform, and his residence in Italy did nothing to right\nthe crying abuses that were breaking Christian hearts. His successor, on\nthe other hand, did really initiate the reform of the clergy, but so\ndrastic and unwise were his methods that the result was terrible and\ndisconcerting--the development of a situation of which only the Catholic\nidealist could discern the full irony; no less than Schism, the rending of\nthe Seamless Robe of Christ.\n\nWith failing hopes and increasing experience of the complexity of human\nstruggle, Catherine clung to her aim until the end. There was no touch of\npusillanimity in her heroic spirit. As with deep respect we follow the\nLetters of the last two years, and note their unflagging alertness and\nvigour, their steady tone of devotion and self-control, we realise that to\ntragedy her spirit was dedicate. Her energy of mind was constantly on the\nincrease. Still, it is true, she wrote to disciples near and far long,\ntender letters of spiritual counsel--analyses of the religious life\ntranquilly penetrating as those of an earlier time. But her political\ncorrespondence grew in bulk. It is tense, nervous, virile. It breathes a\nvibrating passion, a solemn force, that are the index of a breaking heart.\nNot for one moment did Catherine relax her energies. From 1376, when she\nwent to Avignon, she led, with one or two brief intermissions only, the\nlife of a busy woman of affairs. But within this outer life of strenuous\nand, as a rule, thwarted activities, another life went on--a life in which\nfailure could not be, since through failure is wrought redemption.\n\nFrom the days of her stigmatization, which occurred in 1375 at Pisa,\nCatherine had been convinced that in some special sense she was to share\nin the Passion of Christ, and offer herself a sacrifice for the sins of\nHoly Church. Now this conception deepened till it became all-absorbing. In\nfull consciousness of failing vital powers, in expectation of her\napproaching death, she offered her sufferings of mind and body as an\nexpiation for the sins around her. By word of mouth and by letters of\nheartbroken intensity she summoned all dear to her to join in this holy\noffering. Catherine's faith is alien to these latter days. Yet the\npsychical unity of the race is becoming matter not only of emotional\nintuition, but established scientific fact: and no modern sociologist, no\npsychologist who realizes how unknown in origin and how intimate in\ninterpenetration are the forces that control our destiny, can afford to\nscoff at her. She had longed inexpressibly for outward martyrdom. This was\nnot for her, yet none the less really did she lay down her life on the\nAltar of Sacrifice. The evils of the time, and above all of the Church,\nhad generated a sense of unbearable sin in her pure spirit; her constant\ninstinct to identify herself with the guilt of others found in this final\noffering an august climax and fulfilment.\n\nDuring the last months of her life--months of excruciating physical\nsufferings, vividly described for us by her contemporaries--the woman's\nrectitude and wisdom, her swift tender sympathies, were still, as ever, at\nthe disposal of all who sought them. With unswerving energy she still\nlaboured for the cause of truth. When we consider the conditions,\nspiritual and physical, of those last months, we read with amazement the\nable, clearly conceived, practical letters which she was despatching to\nthe many European potentates whom she was endeavouring to hold true to the\ncause of Urban. But her spirit in the meantime dwelt in the region of the\nEternal, where the dolorous struggle of the times appeared, indeed, but\nappeared in its essential significance as seen by angelic intelligences.\nThe awe-struck letters to Fra Raimondo, her Confessor, with which this\nselection closes, are an accurate transcript of her inner experience. They\nconstitute, surely, a precious heritage of the Church for which her life\nwas given. Catherine Benincasa died heartbroken; yet in the depths of her\nconsciousness was joy, for God had revealed to her that His Bride the\nChurch, \"which brings life to men,\" \"holds in herself such life that no\nman can kill her.\" \"Sweetest My daughter, thou seest how she has soiled\nher face with impurity and self-love, and grown puffed up by the pride and\navarice of those who feed at her bosom. But take thy tears and sweats,\ndrawing them from the fountain of My divine charity, and cleanse her face.\nFor I promise thee that her beauty shall not be restored to her by the\nsword, nor by cruelty nor war, but by peace, and by humble continual\nprayer, tears, and sweats poured forth from the grieving desires of My\nservants. So thy desire shall be fulfilled in long abiding, and My\nProvidence shall in no wise fail.\"\n\n\nV\n\nPsychologically, as in point of time, St. Catherine stands between St.\nFrancis and St. Teresa. Her writings are of the middle ages, not of the\nrenascence, but they express the twilight of the mediaeval day. They\nreveal the struggles and the spiritual achievement of a woman who lived in\nthe last age of an undivided Christendom, and whose whole life was\nabsorbed in the special problems of her time. These problems, however, are\nin the deepest sense perpetual, and her attitude toward them is suggestive\nstill.\n\nIt has been claimed that Catherine, a century and a half later, would have\nbeen a Protestant. Such hypotheses are always futile to discuss; but the\nview hardly commends itself to the careful student of her writings. It is\nsuggested, naturally enough, by her denunciations of the corruptions of\nthe Church, denunciations as sweeping and penetrating as were ever uttered\nby Luther; by her amazingly sharp and outspoken criticism of the popes;\nand by her constant plea for reform. The pungency of all these elements in\nher writings is felt by the most casual reader. But it must never be\nforgotten that honest and vigorous criticism of the Church Visible is, in\nthe mind of the Catholic philosopher, entirely consistent with loyalty to\nthe sacerdotal theory. There is a noble idealism that breaks in fine\nimpatience with tradition, and audaciously seeks new symbols wherein to\nsuggest for a season the eternal and imageless truth. But perhaps yet\nnobler in the sight of God--surely more conformed to His methods in nature\nand history--is that other idealism which patiently bows to the yoke of\nthe actual, and endures the agony of keeping true at once to the heavenly\nvision and to the imperfect earthly form. Iconoclastic zeal against\noutworn or corrupt institutions fires our facile enthusiasm. Let us\nrecognize also the spiritual passion that suffers unflinchingly the\ndisparity between the sign and the thing signified, and devotes its\nenergies, not to discarding, but to restoring and purifying that sign.\nSuch passion was Catherine's. The most distinctive trait in the woman's\ncharacter was her power to cling to an ideal verity with unfaltering\nfaithfulness, even when the whole aspect of life and society around her\nseemed to give that verity the lie. To imagine her without faith in the\nvisible Church and the God-given authority of the Vicar of Christ is to\nimagine another woman. Catherine of Siena's place in the history of minds\nis with Savonarola, not with Luther.\n\nCatherine confronted a humanity at enmity with itself, a Church conformed\nto the image of this world. Her external policy proved helpless to right\nthese evils. The return of the Popes from Avignon resulted neither in the\npacification of Christendom nor in the reform of the Church. The Great\nSchism, of which she saw the beginning, undermined the idea of Christian\nunity till the thought of the Saint of Siena was in natural sequence\nfollowed by the thought of Luther. Outwardly her life was spent in\nlabouring for a hopeless cause, discredited by the subsequent movement of\nhistory. But the material tragedy was a spiritual triumph, not only\nthrough the victory of faith in her own soul, but through the value of the\nwitness which she bore. Neither of the great conceptions of unity which\npossessed the middle ages was identical with the modern democratic\nconception; yet both, and in particular that of the Church, pointed in\nthis direction. That ideal of world-embracing brotherhood to which men\nhave been slowly awakening throughout the Christian centuries was the\ndominant ideal of Catherine's mind. She hoped for the attainment of such a\nbrotherhood through the instrument of an organized Christendom, reduced to\npeace and unity under one God-appointed Head. History, as some of us\nthink, has rejected the noble dream. We seem to see that the undying hope\nof the human spirit--a society shaped by justice and love--is never likely\nto be gained along the lines of the centralization of ecclesiastical\npower. But if our idea of the means has changed, the same end still shines\nbefore us. The vision of human fellowship in the Name of Christ, for which\nCatherine lived and died, remains the one hope for the healing of the\nnations.\n\n\n\n\nCHIEF EVENTS IN THE LIFE OF SAINT CATHERINE\n\n[Processor's note: this timeline and the one that follows appeared in the\nopposite order in the 1905 edition on which this etext is based. Their\norder has been reversed to correctly reflect the order in which they\nappear in the table of contents.]\n\n\n1347. On March 25th, Catherine, and a twin-sister who dies at once, are\nborn in the Strada dell' Oca, near the fountain of Fontebranda, Siena. She\nis the youngest of the twenty-five children of Jacopo Benincasa, a dyer,\nand Lapa, his wife.\n\n1353-4. As a child, Catherine is peculiarly joyous and charming. When six\nyears old she beholds the vision of Christ, arrayed in priestly robes,\nabove the Church of St. Dominic. She is inspired by a longing to imitate\nthe life of the Fathers of the desert, and begins to practise many\npenances. At the age of seven she makes the vow of virginity. She is drawn\nto the Order of St. Dominic by the zeal of its founder for the salvation\nof souls.\n\n1359-1363. Her ascetic practices meet with sharp opposition at home. She\nis urged to array herself beautifully and to marry, is denied a private\nchamber, and forced to perform the menial work of the household, etc. In\ntime, however, her perseverance wins the consent of her father and family\nto her desires.\n\n1363-1364. She is vested with the black and white habit of Saint Dominic,\nbecoming one of the Mantellate, or Dominican tertiaries, devout women who\nlived under religious rule in their own homes.\n\n1364-1367. She leads in her own room at home the life of a religious\nrecluse, speaking only to her Confessor. She is absorbed in mystical\nexperiences and religious meditation. During this time she learns to read.\nThe period closes with her espousals to Christ, on the last day of\nCarnival, 1367.\n\n1367-1370. In obedience to the commands of God, and impelled by her love\nof men, she returns gradually to family and social life. From this time\ndates her special devotion to the Blessed Sacrament. She joyfully devotes\nherself to household labours, and to a life of ministration to the sick\nand needy. In 1368 her father dies, and the Revolution puts an end to the\nprosperity of the Benincasa family, which is now broken up. Catherine\nseems to have retained to the end the care of Monna Lapa. In 1370 she dies\nmystically and returns to life, having received the command to go abroad\ninto the world to save souls.\n\n1370-1374. Her reputation and influence increase. A group of disciples\ngathers around her. Her correspondence gradually becomes extensive, and\nshe becomes known as a peacemaker. At the same time, her ecstasies and\nunusual mode of life excite criticism and suspicion. In May, 1374, she\nvisits Florence, perhaps summoned thither to answer charges made against\nher by certain in the Order. She returns to Siena to minister to the\nplague-stricken. She meets at this time Fra Raimondo of Capua, her\nConfessor and biographer. Her gradual induction into public affairs is\naccompanied by growing sorrow over the corruptions of the Church.\n\n1375. At the invitation of Pietro Gambacorta, Catherine visits Pisa. Her\nobject is to prevent Pisa and Lucca from joining the League of Tuscan\ncities against the Pope. She meets the Ambassador from the Queen of\nCyprus, and zealously undertakes to further the cause of a Crusade. On\nApril 1st she receives the Stigmata in the Church of Santa Cristina; but\nthe marks, at her request, remain invisible. She prophesies the Great\nSchism. A brief visit to Lucca.\n\n1376. Catherine receives Stefano Maconi as a disciple, and at his instance\nreconciles the feud between the Maconi and the Tolomei. She attempts by\ncorrespondence to reconcile Pope Gregory XI. and the Florentines. On April\n1st the Divine Commission to bear the olive to both disputants is given\nher in a vision. In May, at the request of the Florentines, she goes to\nFlorence. Sent as their representative to Avignon, she reaches that city\non June 18th. Gregory entrusts her with the negotiations for peace. The\nFlorentine ambassadors, however, delay their coming, and when they come\nrefuse to ratify her powers. Thwarted in this direction, she devotes all\nher efforts to persuading the Pope to return to Rome, and triumphing over\nall obstacles, succeeds. She leaves for home on September 13th, but is\nretained for a month in Genoa, at the house of Madonna Orietta Scotta.\nAfter a short visit at Pisa, she reaches Siena in December or January.\n\n1377. Catherine converts the castle of Belcaro, conveyed to her by its\nowner, into a monastery. She visits the Salimbeni in their feudal castle\nat Rocca D'Orcia, for the purpose of healing their family feuds. While\nhere she learns miraculously to write. She also visits Sant' Antimo and\nMontepulciano.\n\n1378. Gregory, in failing health, perhaps regretting his return, becomes\nalienated from Catherine. He sends her, however, to Florence, where she\nstays in a house built for her by Niccol\u00f2 Soderini, at the foot of the\nhill of St. George. She succeeds in causing the Interdict to be respected,\nbut almost loses her life in a popular tumult, and keenly regrets not\nhaving won the crown of martyrdom. After the death of Gregory, and the\nestablishment of the longed-for peace by Pope Urban, Catherine returns to\nSiena, where she devotes herself to composing her \"Dialogue.\" After the\noutbreak of the Schism, Urban, whom she had known at Avignon, summons her\nto Rome. She reluctantly obeys, and takes up her abode in that city on\nNovember 28th, accompanied by a large group of disciples, her \"Famiglia,\"\nwho live together, subsisting on alms. From this time Catherine devotes\nher whole powers to the cause of Urban. She is his trusted adviser, and\nseeks earnestly to curb his impatient temper on the one hand, and to keep\nthe sovereigns of Europe faithful to him on the other. She writes on his\nbehalf to the Kings of France and Hungary, to Queen Giovanna of Naples, to\nthe magistrates of Italian cities, to the Italian cardinals who have\njoined the Schism, and to others. Fra Raimondo, despatched to France, to\nher grief and exaltation, evades his mission through timidity, to her\nbitter disappointment, but does not return to Rome till after her death.\nCatherine's health, always fragile, gives way under her unremitting\nlabours and her great sorrows.\n\n1380. Catherine succeeds in quieting the revolt of the Romans against\nUrban. She dedicates herself as a sacrificial victim, in expiation of the\nsins of the Church and of the Roman people. In vision at St. Peter's, on\nSexagesima Sunday, the burden of the Ship of the Church descends upon her\nshoulders. Her physical sufferings increase, and on April 30th she dies,\nin the presence of her disciples.\n\n\n\n\nBRIEF TABLE OF CONTEMPORARY PUBLIC EVENTS\n\n\n1368-1369. Political Revolution in Siena. The compromise government of the\nRiformatori is established. The Emperor Charles V. is summoned to the city\nby the party worsted in the Revolution, joined by certain nobles. He\narrives in January, '69, but is forced to withdraw by a popular rising.\nThe nobles are excluded from the chief power and ravaged by feuds among\nthemselves.\n\n1372. Gregory XI. declares war against Bernabo Visconti of Milan, and\ntakes into his pay the English free-lance, Sir John Hawkwood. Peter\nd'Estaing, appointed Legate of Bologna, makes truce with Bernabo. The\nlatter, however, continues secretly to incite Tuscany to rebel against the\nPope, inflaming the indignation of the Tuscans at the arbitrary policy of\nthe Papal Legates, and in particular of the Nuncio, Gerard du Puy, who is\nsupporting the claims of those turbulent nobles, the Salimbeni in Siena.\nCatherine is in correspondence with both d'Estaing and Du Puy. On April\n22nd, Gregory, in full consistory, announces his intention of returning to\nRome.\n\n1373. Italy is devastated by petty strife: \"It seems as if a planet\nreigned at this time which produced in the world the following effects:\nThat the Brothers of St. Austin killed their Provincial at Sant' Antonio\nwith a knife; and in Siena was much fighting. At Assisi the Brothers Minor\nfought, and killed fourteen with a knife. And those of the Rose fought,\nand drove six away. Also, those of Certosa had great dissensions, and\ntheir General came and changed them all about. So all Religious everywhere\nseemed to have strife and dissension among themselves. And every Religious\nof whatever rule was oppressed and insulted by the world. So with brothers\naccording to the flesh--cousins, wives, relatives, and neighbours. It\nseems that there were divisions all over the whole world. In Siena,\nloyalty was neither proposed nor observed, gentlemen did not show it among\nthemselves nor outside, nor did the Nine among themselves or with outside\npersons, nor did the Twelve. The people did not agree with their own\nleader, nor exactly with any one else. Thus all the world was a place of\nshadows.\"--_Chronicle of Neri di Donato_.\n\nA Crusade publicly proclaimed by the Pope.\n\n1374. Plague and famine lay Tuscany waste. William of Noellet, the Papal\nLegate, refuses to allow corn to be imported into Tuscany from the Papal\nStates. Hawkwood, probably at his instigation, ravages the country, and\neven threatens the city of Florence. Florence, enraged, rebels against the\nPope, and appoints from the ranks of the Ghibellines a new body of\nMagistrates, known as the Eight of War. Meantime, Cione de' Salimbeni is\nraiding the country around Siena. The roads through the Maremma are\ninsecure for peaceable folk, and the peasants are driven to take refuge in\nthe plague-stricken town.\n\n1375. Eighty Italian cities join a League, headed by Florence, against the\nPope, with the watchword, \"Fling off the foreign yoke.\"\n\n1376. Gregory despatches ambassadors to the Eight of War, who scorn his\nproposals. Florence incites Bologna to revolt, and the Legate flees. The\nPapal Nuncio is flayed alive in the streets of Florence. The city is\nplaced under an Interdict. Envoys are despatched to Avignon, who set forth\neloquently, but to no avail, the grievances of the city. War is declared\nagainst Florence by the Pope, and Count Robert of Geneva, with an army of\nfree-lances, is sent into Italy. Count Robert, laying waste the territory\nof Bologna, summons Hawkwood to his aid, and perpetrates the hideous\nmassacre of Cesena. Catherine, sent to Avignon, fails to procure peace.\nGregory, swayed by her representations, returns to Italy, and reaches\nRome, after a difficult journey, on January 17th, 1377.\n\n1378. Gregory, exhausted and disappointed by the continued discords in\nItaly, dies in March. The Archbishop of Bari, known as Urban VI., is\nappointed his successor. In July, peace is made with Florence, and the\nInterdict upon the city is raised. The harsh measures of Urban in dealing\nwith the clergy arouse violent antagonism. In June, the Cardinals begin to\ncirculate rumours challenging the validity of the election, and on\nSeptember 20th they formally announce that the election was invalid,\nhaving been forced on them by fear, and appoint as Pope the Cardinal\nRobert of Geneva, who takes the name of Clement VII.\n\n1379-1380. The Great Schism divides Europe. England remains faithful to\nUrban: France and Naples, after wavering, declare for Clement. War rages\nbetween the two Popes. The schismatic forces gain possession of the Castle\nof Saint Angelo at Rome, but are driven out by the forces of Urban, who in\ngratitude marches barefoot in solemn procession from Santa Maria in\nTrastevere, to St. Peter's. The city, however, later revolts against\nUrban, but is reconciled to him, partly through the efforts of Catherine.\nQueen Giovanna of Naples, having conspired against Urban's life, is\nexcommunicated.\n\n\n\n\nLETTERS\n\n\n\n\nTO MONNA ALESSA DEI SARACINI\n\n\nThe young widow of noble family to whom this letter was written was the\nmost cherished among Catherine's women friends. She seems, as often\nhappens with the chosen companion of a fervent and powerful nature, to\nhave been a person simple, lovable, and quietly wise. Having after her\nhusband's death assumed the habit of St. Dominic, she distributed her\npossessions to the poor by Catherine's advice, but she evidently retained\nher home in Siena. This became a constant refuge for the saint from the\novercrowded Benincasa household, and the scene of more than one charming\nepisode in her life as told by the legend. For the Mantellate, or\ntertiaries of St. Dominic, were not cloistered, nor did they take the\nmonastic vows; they simply lived in their own homes a life of special\ndevotion.\n\nTo Alessa, Catherine left on her deathbed the care of her spiritual\nfamily. This intimate little letter dates from an early period in their\nfriendship. In its homely, practical wisdom, as in the gentle loftiness of\nits tone, it shows the watchful and loving care with which Catherine\nentered into the details of the daily life of those whom she sought to\nlead with her in the way of salvation. The tests she proposes are as\npenetrating to-day as they were then.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest daughter in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, thy poor unworthy\nmother, want thee to attain that perfection for which God has chosen thee.\nIt seems to me that one wishing so to attain should walk with and not\nwithout moderation. And yet every work of ours ought to be done both\nwithout and with moderation: it befits us to love God without moderation,\nputting to that love neither limit nor measure nor rule, but loving Him\nimmeasurably. And if thou wish to reach the perfection of love, it befits\nthee to set thy life in order. Let thy first rule be to flee the\nconversation of every human being, in so far as it is simply conversation,\nexcept as deeds of charity may demand; but to love people very much, and\ntalk with few of them. And know how to talk in moderation even with those\nwhom thou lovest with spiritual love; reflect that if thou didst not do\nthis, thou wouldst place a limit before perceiving it to that limitless\nlove which thou oughtest to bear to God, by placing the finite creature\nbetween you: for the love which thou shouldst place in God thou wouldst\nplace in the creature, loving it without moderation; and this would hinder\nthy perfection. Therefore thou shouldst love it spiritually, in a\ndisciplined way.\n\nBe a vase, which thou fillest at the source and at the source dost drink\nfrom. Although thou hadst drawn thy love from God, who is the Source of\nliving water, didst thou not drink it continually in Him thy vase would\nremain empty. And this shall be the sign to thee that thou dost not drink\nwholly in God: when thou sufferest from that which thou lovest, either by\nsome talk thou didst hold, or because thou wast deprived of some\nconsolation thou wast used to receiving, or for some other accidental\ncause. If thou sufferest, then, from this or anything else except wrong\nagainst God, it is a clear sign to thee that this love is still imperfect,\nand drawn far from the Source. What way is there, then, to make the\nimperfect perfect? This way: to correct and chastise the movements of thy\nheart with true self-knowledge, and with hatred and distaste for thy\nimperfection, that thou art such a peasant as to give to the creature that\nlove which ought to be given wholly to God, loving the creature without\nmoderation, and God moderately. For love toward God should be without\nmeasure, and that for the creature should be measured by that for God, and\nnot by the measure of one's own consolations, either spiritual or\ntemporal. So do, then, that thou lovest everything in God, and correct\nevery inordinate affection.\n\nMake two homes for thyself, my daughter. One actual home in thy cell, that\nthou go not running about into many places, unless for necessity, or for\nobedience to the prioress, or for charity's sake; and another spiritual\nhome, which thou art to carry with thee always--the cell of true self-\nknowledge, where thou shalt find within thyself knowledge of the goodness\nof God. These are two cells in one, and when abiding in the one it behoves\nthee to abide in the other, for otherwise the soul would fall into either\nconfusion or presumption. For didst thou rest in knowledge of thyself,\nconfusion of mind would fall on thee; and didst thou abide in the\nknowledge of God alone, thou wouldst fall into presumption. The two, then,\nmust be built together and made one same thing; if thou dost this, thou\nwilt attain perfection. For from self-knowledge thou wilt gain hatred of\nthine own fleshliness, and through hate thou wilt become a judge, and sit\nupon the seat of thy conscience, and pass judgment; and thou wilt not let\na fault go without giving sentence on it.\n\nFrom such knowledge flows the stream of humility; which never seizes on\nmere report, nor takes offence at anything, but bears every insult, every\nloss of consolation, and every sorrow, from whatever direction they may\ncome, patiently, with joy. Shames appear glory, and great persecutions\nrefreshment; and it rejoices in all, seeing itself punished for that\nperverse law of self-will in its members which for ever rebels against\nGod; and it sees itself conformed with Christ Jesus crucified, the way and\nthe doctrine of truth.\n\nIn the knowledge of God thou shalt find the fire of divine charity. Where\nshalt thou rejoice? Upon the Cross, with the Spotless Lamb, seeking His\nhonour and the salvation of souls, through continual, humble prayer. Now\nherein is all our perfection. There are many other things also, but this\nis the chief, from which we receive so much light that we cannot err in\nthe lesser works that follow.\n\nRejoice, my daughter, to conform thee to the shame of Christ. And watch\nover the impulse of the tongue, that the tongue may not always respond to\nthe impulse of the heart; but digest what is in thy heart, with hatred and\ndistaste for thyself. Do thou be the least of the least, subject in\nhumility and patience to every creature through God; not making excuses,\nbut saying: the fault is mine. Thus are vices conquered in thy soul and in\nthe soul of him to whom thou shouldest so speak: through the virtue of\nhumility.\n\nOrder thy time: the night to vigil, when thou hast paid the debt of sleep\nto thy body; and the morning in church with sweet prayer; do not spend it\nin chatting until the appointed hour. Let nothing except necessity, or\nobedience, or charity, as I said, draw thee away from this or anything\nelse. After the hour of eating, recollect thyself a little, and then do\nsomething with thy hands, as thou mayest need. At the hour of vespers, do\nthou go and keep quiet; and as much as the Holy Spirit enjoins on thee,\nthat do. Then go back and take care of thy old mother without negligence,\nand provide what she needs; be thine this burden. More when I return. So\ndo that thou mayest fulfil my desire. I say no more. Remain in the holy\nand sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO BENINCASA HER BROTHER\nWHEN HE WAS IN FLORENCE\n\n\nOne questions whether Catherine's brother would have relished the\nadmonitions of his saintly sister, had he known what we learn through her\nbiographer: that, feeling the temporal prosperity of her family to be a\nsnare to them, she had earnestly prayed that they might fall into poverty.\nThe petition was promptly granted: worldly losses, and the departure of\ntwo of the brothers for Florence, followed upon the Sienese Revolution of\n1368. Apparently, family misunderstandings accompanied these\nreadjustments. In the first of the present letters Catherine takes her\nelder brother to task for neglect of his mother, Monna Lapa. We do not\nknow the effect of her remarks, but we do know that in the large family of\ntwenty-four, no one except Catherine herself--first recluse, and later\nbusy woman of affairs as she was--seems to have carried the\nresponsibility for the mother's welfare. The mother lived for the most\npart with her great daughter, except when public interests took Catherine\naway from home--occasions to which poor Monna Lapa was never reconciled.\n\nIn the second of these notes, Catherine comforts her brother very sweetly,\nprobably for the loss of his wealth. But if we may judge from the nature\nof the reflections addressed to him, the spiritual instruction by which\nBenincasa was capable of profiting was extremely elementary in character.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest brother in Christ Jesus: I Catherine, a useless servant, comfort\nand bless thee and invite thee to a sweet and most holy patience, for\nwithout patience we could not please God. So I beg you, in order that you\nmay receive the fruit of your tribulations, that you assume the armour of\npatience. And should it seem very hard to you to endure your many\ntroubles, bear in memory three things, that you may endure more patiently.\nFirst, I want you to think of the shortness of your time, for on one day\nyou are not certain of the morrow. We may truly say that we do not feel\npast trouble, nor that which is to come, but only the moment of time at\nwhich we are. Surely, then, we ought to endure patiently, since the time\nis so short. The second thing is, for you to consider the fruit which\nfollows our troubles. For St. Paul says there is no comparison between our\ntroubles and the fruit and reward of supernal glory. The third is, for you\nto consider the loss which results to those who endure in wrath and\nimpatience; for loss follows this here, and eternal punishment to the\nsoul.\n\nTherefore I beg you, dearest brother, to endure in all patience. And I\nwould not have it escape your mind that you should correct you of your\ningratitude, and your ignoring of the duty you owe your mother, to which\nyou are held by the commandment of God. I have seen your ingratitude\nmultiply so that you have not even paid her the due of help that you owe:\nto be sure, I have an excuse for you in this, because you could not; but\nif you had been able, I do not know that you would have done it, since you\nhave left her in scarcity even of words. Oh, ingratitude! Have you not\nconsidered the sorrow of her labour, nor the milk that she drew from her\nbreast, nor the many troubles that she has had, over you and all the\nothers? And should you say to me that she has had no compassion on us, I\nsay that it is not so; for she has had so much on you and the other that\nit costs her dear. But suppose it were true--you are under obligation to\nher, not she to you. She did not take her flesh from you, but gave you\nhers. I beg you to correct this fault and others, and to pardon my\nignorance. For did I not love your soul, I would not say to you what I do.\nRemember your confession, you and all your family. I say no more to you.\nRemain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest and most beloved brother in Christ Jesus: I Catherine, servant and\nslave of the servants of Jesus Christ, comfort you in the Precious Blood\nof the Son of God: with desire to see you wholly in accord with the Will\nof God, and transformed thereby; knowing that this is a sweet and holy\nyoke which makes all bitterness turn into sweetness. Every great burden\nbecomes light beneath this most holy yoke of the sweet will of God,\nwithout which thou couldst not please God, but wouldst know a foretaste of\nHell. Comfort you, comfort you, dearest brother, and do not faint beneath\nthis chastisement of God; but trust that when human help fails, divine\nhelp is near. God will provide for you. Reflect that Job lost his\npossessions and his sons and his health: his wife remained to him for a\nperpetual scourge; and then, when God had tested his patience, He restored\neverything to him double, and at the end eternal life. Patient Job never\nwas perturbed, but would say, always exercising the virtue of holy\npatience, \"God gave them to me, God has taken them from me; the Name of\nGod be blessed.\" So I want you to do, dearest brother: be a lover of\nvirtue, with holy patience, often using confession, which will as often\nhelp you to endure your afflictions. And I tell you, God will show His\nbenignity and mercy, and will reward you for every affliction which you\nshall have borne for His love. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God.\nSweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO THE VENERABLE RELIGIOUS, BROTHER ANTONIO OF NIZZA,\nOF THE ORDER OF THE HERMIT BROTHERS OF SAINT AUGUSTINE\nAT THE WOOD OF THE LAKE\n\n\nIt is in her letters to persons leading the dedicated life that one can\nmost clearly study Catherine's own inner experience. When warning and\nconsoling them, she is speaking to herself. This obscure girl had a way of\nwriting to the great of this earth--and indeed to the very Fathers of\nChristendom--with the straightforward simplicity of a teacher instructing\nchildish minds in the evident rudiments of virtue. Often the sanctified\ncommon sense of her letters to dignitaries is the most noticeable thing\nabout them. But when she turns to a holy hermit, the tone changes. The\ncommonplaces of the moral life are assumed or left behind; she speaks to a\nsoul that has presumably already brought its will into accord with the\ndivine will in regard to all outward happenings, and she takes calmly for\ngranted that this is a light and little thing. We proceed to the analysis\nof temptations more subtle and more alluring. Catherine has few superiors\namong religious thinkers in the power to trace self-will to its remotest\nlairs, in the deeper reaches of personality. In letters to such\ncorrespondents as Frate Antonio she often gives us, as here, precious\nrecords of her intercourse with her Lord.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nTo you, most beloved and dearest father and brother in Christ Jesus: I\nCatherine, servant and slave of the servants of Jesus Christ, write and\ncommend me in the Precious Blood of the Son of God, with desire to see you\nkindled and inflamed in the furnace of divine charity and your own self-\nwill--the will that robs us of all life--consumed therein. Let us open our\neyes, dearest brother, for we have two wills--one of the senses, which\nseeks the things of sense, and the other the self-will of the spirit,\nwhich, under aspect and colour of virtue, holds firm to its own way. And\nthis is clear when it wants to choose places and seasons and consolations\nto suit itself, and says: \"Thus I wish in order to possess God more\nfully.\" This is a great cheat, and an illusion of the devil; for not being\nable to deceive the servants of God through their first will--since the\nservants of God have already mortified it so far as the things of sense\ngo--the devil catches their second will on the sly with things of the\nspirit. So many a time the soul receives consolation, and then later feels\nitself deprived thereof by God; and another experience will harrow it,\nwhich will give less consolation and more fruit. Then the soul, which is\ninspired by what gives sweetness, suffers when deprived of it, and feels\nannoyance. And why annoyance? Because it does not want to be deprived; for\nit says, \"I seem to love God more in this way than in that. From the one I\nfeel that I bear some fruit, and from the other I perceive no fruit at\nall, except pain and ofttimes many conflicts; and so I seem to wrong God.\"\nSon and brother in Christ Jesus, I say that this soul is deceived by its\nself-will. For it would not be deprived of sweetness; with this bait the\ndevil catches it. Frequently men lose time in longing for time to suit\nthemselves, for they do not employ what they have otherwise than in\nsuffering and gloominess.\n\nOnce our sweet Saviour said to a very dear daughter of His, \"Dost thou\nknow how those people act who want to fulfil My will in consolation and in\nsweetness and joy? When they are deprived of these things, they wish to\ndepart from My will, thinking to do well and to avoid offence; but false\nsensuality lurks in them, and to escape pains it falls into offence\nwithout perceiving it. But if the soul were wise and had the light of My\nwill within, it would look to the fruit and not to the sweetness. What is\nthe fruit of the soul? Hatred of itself and love of Me. This hate and love\nare the issue of self-knowledge; then the soul knows its faulty self to be\nnothing, and it sees in itself My goodness, which keeps its will good; and\nit sees what a person I have made it, in order that it may serve Me in\ngreater perfection, and judges that I have made it for the best, and for\nits own greatest good. Such a man as this, dearest daughter, does not wish\nfor time to suit himself, because he has learned humility; knowing his\ninfirmity, he does not trust in his own wish, but is faithful to Me. He\nclothes him in My highest and eternal will, because he sees that I neither\ngive nor take away, save for your sanctification; and he sees that love\nalone impels Me to give you sweetness and to take it from you. For this\ncause he cannot grieve over any consolation that might be taken from him\nwithin or without, by demon or fellow-creature--because he sees that, were\nthis not for his good, I should not permit it. Therefore this man rejoices\nbecause he has light within and without, and is so illumined that when the\ndevil approaches his mind with shadows to confuse him, saying, 'This is\nfor thy sins,' he replies like a person who shrinks not from suffering,\nsaying, 'Thanks be to my Creator, who has remembered me in the time of\nshadows, punishing me by pain in finite time. Great is this love, which\nwill not punish me in the infinite future.' Oh, what tranquillity of mind\nhas this soul, because it has freed itself from the self-will which brings\nstorm! But not thus does he whose self-will is lively within, seeking\nthings after his own way! For he seems to think that he knows what he\nneeds better than I. Many a time he says, 'It seems to me that I am\nwronging God in this: free me from wrong, and let what He wills be done.'\nThis is a sign that you are freed from wrong, when you see in yourself\ngoodwill not to want to wrong God, and displeasure with sin; thence ought\nyou to take hope. Although all external activities and inward consolations\nshould fail, let goodwill to please God ever remain firm. Upon this rock\nis founded grace. If thou sayest, I do not seem to have it, I say that\nthis is false, for if thou hadst it not, thou wouldst not fear to wrong\nGod. But it is the devil who makes things look so, in order that the soul\nmay fall into confusion and disordered sadness, and hold firm its self-\nwill, by wanting consolations, times and seasons in its own way. Do not\nbelieve him, dearest daughter, but let your soul be always ready to endure\nsufferings in howsoever God may inflict them. Otherwise you would do like\na man who stands on the threshold with a light in his hand, who reaches\nhis hand out and casts light outside, and within it is dark. Such is a man\nwho is already united in outward things with the will of God, despising\nthe world; but within, his spiritual self-will is living still, veiled in\nthe colour of virtue.\" Thus spoke God to that servant of His spoken of\nabove.\n\nTherefore I said that I wished and desired that your will should be\nabsorbed and transformed in Him, while we hold ourselves always ready to\nbear pains and toils howsoever God chooses to send them to us. So we shall\nbe freed from darkness and abide in light. Amen. Praised be Jesus Christ\ncrucified and sweet Mary.\n\n\n\n\nTO MONNA AGNESE\nWHO WAS THE WIFE OF MESSER ORSO MALAVOLTI\n\n\nCatherine is well aware that the world can be as true a school of holiness\nas the forest cell. She writes to the noble lady, Monna Agnese Malavolti,\nin much the same strain as to Frate Antonio. The danger of spiritual self-\nwill forms indeed one of those recurring themes which pervade her letters\nlike the motifs of Wagnerian music--ever the same, yet woven into ever-\nnew harmonies.\n\nBut the general subject of this letter is the \"Santissima Pazienza,\" which\nis still frequently invoked by the common folk of Siena: and Catherine's\nanalysis searches deep. Patience could hardly have been one of the virtues\nmost native to the woman's valiant spirit, and one feels in her keen and\nsolemn meditations that she had herself known the bitter and corroding\npower of the sin \"that burns and does not consume,\" and that \"makes the\nsoul unendurable to itself.\" It is with convincing fervour and fulness\nthat she presents impatience as the permanent condition of the lost. The\nlittle discussion of impatience in human relations, and of the \"proud\nhumility\" resorted to by a soul ravaged by a sense of neglect, has also a\nvery personal note. But it is still more clear in the letter that\nCatherine's had become the disciplined nature which can \"endure a restless\nmind with more reverence than a tranquil one,\" if such be the will of God,\nand which has entered deeply into the joy that awaits the meek.\n\nMonna Agnese must have stood in special need of these touching\nexhortations: she was a woman sorrowfully tried. Her son had been beheaded\nin 1372, in punishment for heinous sin; and now her only daughter had\ndied. \"For the which thing,\" writes Catherine, with one of her own\ninimitable phrases, \"I am deeply content, with a holy compassion.\"\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest daughter in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of\nthe servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His Precious Blood, with the\ndesire to see you established in true patience, since I consider that\nwithout patience we cannot please God. For just as impatience gives much\npleasure to the devil and to one's own lower nature, and revels in nothing\nbut anger when it misses what the lower nature wants, so it is very\ndispleasing to God. It is because anger and impatience are the very pith\nand sap of pride that they please the devil so much. Impatience loses the\nfruit of its labour, deprives the soul of God; it begins by knowing a\nforetaste of hell, and later it brings men to eternal damnation: for in\nhell the evil perverted will burns with anger, hate and impatience. It\nburns and does not consume, but is evermore renewed--that is, it never\ngrows less, and therefore I say, it does not consume. It has indeed\nparched and consumed grace in the souls of the lost, but as I said it has\nnot consumed their being, and so their punishment lasts eternally. The\nsaints say that the damned ask for death and cannot have it, because the\nsoul never dies. It dies to be sure to grace, by mortal sin; but it does\nnot die to existence. There is no sin nor wrong that gives a man such a\nforetaste of hell in this life as anger and impatience. It is hated by\nGod, it holds its neighbour in aversion, and has neither knowledge nor\ndesire to bear and forbear with its faults. And whatever is said or done\nto it, it at once empoisons, and its impulses blow about like a leaf in\nthe wind. It becomes unendurable to itself, for perverted will is always\ngnawing at it, and it craves what it cannot have; it is discordant with\nthe will of God and with the rational part of its own soul. And all this\ncomes from the tree of Pride, from which oozes out the sap of anger and\nimpatience. The man becomes an incarnate demon, and it is much worse to\nfight with these visible demons than with the invisible. Surely, then,\nevery reasonable being ought to flee this sin.\n\nBut note, that there are two sources of impatience. There is a common kind\nof impatience, felt by ordinary men in the world, which befalls them on\naccount of the inordinate love they have for themselves and for temporal\nthings, which they love apart from God; so that to have them they do not\nmind losing their soul, and putting it into the hands of the devils. This\nis beyond help, unless a man recognizes himself, how he has wronged God,\nand cuts down that tree of Pride with the sword of true humility, which\nproduces charity in the soul. For there is a tree of Love, whose pith is\npatience and goodwill toward one's neighbour. For, just as impatience\nshows more clearly than any other sin that the soul is deprived of God--\nbecause it is at once evident that since the pith is there, the tree of\nPride must be there--so patience shows better and more perfectly than any\nother virtue, that God is in the soul by grace. Patience, I say, deep\nwithin the tree of Love, that for love of its Creator disdains the world,\nand loves insults whencesoever they come.\n\nI was saying that anger and impatience were of two kinds, one general and\none special. We have spoken of the common kind. Now I talk of the more\nparticular, of the impatience of those who have already despised the\nworld, and who wish to be servants of Christ crucified in their own way;\nthat is, in so far as they shall find joy and consolation in Him. This is\nbecause spiritual self-will is not dead in them: therefore they\nimperiously demand from God that He should give them consolations and\ntribulations in their own way, and not in His; and so they become\nimpatient, when they get the contrary of what their spiritual self-will\nwants. This is a little offshoot from Pride, sprouting from real Pride, as\na tree sends out a little tree by its side, which looks separated from it,\nbut nevertheless it gets the substance from which it springs from the same\ntree. So is self-will in the soul which chooses to serve God in its own\nway; and when that way fails it suffers, and its suffering makes it\nimpatient, and it is unendurable to itself, and takes no pleasure in\nserving God or its neighbour. Nay, if any one came to it for comfort or\nhelp it would give him nothing but reproaches, and would not know how to\nbe tolerant to his need. All this results from the sensitive spiritual\nself-will that grows from the tree of Pride which was cut down, but not\nuprooted. It is cut down when the soul uplifts its desire above the world,\nand fastens it on God, but has fastened there imperfectly; the root of\nPride was left, and therefore it sent up an offshoot by its side, and\nshows itself in spiritual things. So, if it misses consolations from God,\nand its mind stays dry and sterile, it at once becomes disturbed and\ndepressed, and, under colour of virtue--because it thinks itself deprived\nof God--it begins to complain, and lays down the law to God. But were it\ntruly humble and had true hate and knowledge of itself, it would deem\nitself unworthy of the visitation of God to its soul, and worthy of the\npain that it suffers, in being deprived, not of God's grace in the soul,\nbut of its consolations. It suffers, then, because it has to work in its\nchains; yes, spiritual self-will suffers under the delusion that it is\nwronging God, while the trouble is really with its own lower nature.\n\nTherefore the humble soul, which has freely uprooted with eager love the\nroot of Pride, has annulled its own will, seeking ever the honour of God\nand the salvation of souls. It does not mind sufferings, but endures a\nrestless mind with more reverence than a quiet one; having a holy\nrespectful knowledge that God gives and grants this to it for its good,\nthat it may rise from imperfection to perfection. That is the way to make\nit attain perfection, for it recognizes better thereby its own defects and\nthe grace of God, which it finds within, in the goodwill that God has\ngiven it to hate its mortal sin. Also, by meditating on its defects and\nfaults, old and new, it has conceived hatred for itself, and love for the\nHighest Eternal Will of God. Therefore it bears these things with\nreverence, and is content to endure inwardly and outwardly, in whatever\nway God grants it. Provided that it can be filled and clothed with the\nsweetness of the will of God, it rejoices in everything; and the more it\nsees itself deprived of the thing it loves, whether the consolations of\nGod, as I said, or of its fellows, the more gladsome it grows. For many a\ntime it happens that the soul loves spiritually; but if it does not find\nthe consolation or satisfaction from the beloved that it would like, or if\nit suspects that more love or satisfaction is given to another than to\nitself, it falls into suffering, into depression of mind, into criticism\nof its neighbour and false judgment, passing judgment on the mind and\nintention of the servants of God, and especially on those from whom it\nsuffers. Thence it becomes impatient, and thinks what it should not think,\nand says with its tongue what it should not say. In such suffering as\nthis, it likes to resort to a proud humility, which has the aspect of\nhumility, but is really an offshoot of Pride, springing up beside it--\nsaying to itself: \"I will not pay these people any more attention, or\ntrouble myself any more about them. I will keep entirely to myself; I do\nnot wish to hurt either myself or them.\" And it abases itself with a\nperverted scorn. Now it ought to perceive that this is scorn, by the\nimpulse to judge that it feels in its heart, and by the complaints of its\ntongue. It ought not then to do so; for in this fashion it will never get\nrid of the root of Pride, nor cut off the little son at the side, which\nhinders the soul from attaining the perfection at which it has aimed. But\nit ought to kneel at the table of the Most Holy Cross, to receive the food\nof the honour of God and the salvation of souls, with a free heart, with\nholy hatred of itself, with passionate desire: seeking to gain virtue by\nsuffering and sweat, and not by private consolations either from God or\nits fellows; following the footsteps and the teaching of Christ Crucified,\nsaying to itself with sharp rebuke: \"Thou shouldst not, my soul, thou that\nart a member, travel by another road than thy Head. An unfit thing it is\nthat limbs should remain delicate beneath a thorn-crowned Head.\" If such\nhabits became fixed, through one's own frailty, or the wiles of the devil,\nor the many impulses that shake the heart like winds, then the soul ought\nto ascend the seat of its conscience, and reason with itself, and let\nnothing pass without punishment and chastisement, hatred and distaste for\nitself. So the root shall be pulled up, and by displeasure against itself\nthe soul will drive out displeasure against its neighbour, grieving more\nover the unregulated instincts of its own heart and thoughts than over the\nsuffering it could receive from its fellows, or any insult or annoyance\nthey could inflict on it.\n\nThis is the sweet and holy fashion observed by those who are wholly\ninspired of Christ; for in this wise they have uprooted perverted pride,\nand that marrow of impatience of which we said above that it was very\npleasing to the devil, because it is the beginning and occasion of every\nsin; and on the contrary that as it is very pleasing to the devil, so it\nis very displeasing to God. Pride displeases Him and humility pleases Him.\nSo greatly did the virtue of humility please Him in Mary that He was\nconstrained to give her the Word His Only-Begotten Son and she was the\nsweet mother who gave Him to us. Know well, that until Mary showed by her\nspoken words her humility and pure will, when she said: \"Ecce Ancilla\nDomini, be it done unto me according to Thy word\"--the Son of God was not\nincarnate in her; but when she had said this, she conceived within herself\nthat sweet and Spotless Lamb--the Sweet Primal Truth showing thereby how\nexcellent is this little virtue, and how much the soul receives that\noffers and presents its will in humility to its Creator. So then--in the\ntime of labours and persecutions, of insults and injuries inflicted by\none's neighbour, of mental conflicts and deprivation of spiritual\nconsolations, by the Creator or the creature, (by the Creator in His\ngentleness, when He withdraws the feeling of the mind, so that it does not\nseem as if God were in the soul, so many are its pains and conflicts--and\nby fellow-creatures, in conversation or amusement, or when the soul thinks\nthat it loves more than it is loved)--in all these things, I say that the\nsoul perfected by humility says: \"My Lord, behold Thy handmaid: be it done\nunto me according to Thy word, and not according to what I want with my\nsenses.\" So it sheds the fragrance of patience, around the Creator and its\nfellow-creature and itself. It has peace and quiet in its mind, and it has\nfound peace in warfare, because it has driven far from it its self-will\nfounded in pride, and has conceived divine grace in its soul. And it bears\nin its mind's breast Christ crucified, and rejoices in the Wounds of\nChrist crucified, and seeks to know naught but Christ crucified; and its\nbed is the Cross of Christ crucified. There it annuls its own will, and\nbecomes humble and obedient.\n\nFor there is no obedience without humility, nor humility without charity.\nThis is shown by the Word, for in obedience to His Father and in humility,\nHe ran to the shameful death of the Cross, nailing and binding Him with\nthe nails and bands of charity, and enduring in such patience that no cry\nof complaint was heard from Him. For nails were not enough to hold God-\nand-Man nailed and fastened on the Cross had Love not held Him there. This\nI say that the soul feels; therefore it will not joy otherwise than with\nChrist crucified. For could it attain to virtue and escape Hell and have\neternal life, without sufferings, and have in the world consolations\nspiritual and temporal, it would not wish them; but it desires rather to\nsuffer, enduring even unto death, than to have eternal life in any other\nway: only let it conform itself with Christ crucified, and clothe it with\nHis shames and pains. It has found the table of the Spotless Lamb.\n\nOh, glorious virtue! Who would not give himself to death a thousand times,\nand endure any suffering through desire to win thee? Thou art a queen, who\ndost possess the entire world; thou dost inhabit the enduring life; for\nwhile the soul that is arrayed in thee is yet mortal, thou makest it abide\nby force of love with those who are immortal. Since, then, this virtue is\nso excellent and pleasing to God and useful to us and saving to our\nneighbour, arise, dearest daughter, from the sleep of negligence and\nignorance, casting to earth the weakness and frailty of thy heart, that it\nfeel no suffering nor impatience over anything that God permits to us, so\nthat we may not fall either into the common kind of impatience, or into\nthe special kind, as we were saying before, but serve our sweet Saviour\nmanfully, with liberty of heart and true perfect patience. If we do\notherwise, we shall lose grace by the first sort of impatience, and by the\nsecond we shall hinder our state of perfection; and you would not attain\nthat to which God has called you.\n\nIt seems that God is calling you to great perfection. And I perceive it by\nthis, that He takes away from you every tie that might hinder it in you.\nFor as I have heard, it seems that He has called to Himself your daughter,\nwho was your last tie with the outer world. For which thing I am deeply\ncontent, with a holy compassion, that God should have set you free, and\ntaken her from her labours. Now then, I want that you should wholly\ndestroy your own will, that it may cling to nothing but Christ crucified.\nIn this way you will fulfil His will and my desire. Therefore, not knowing\nany other way in which you could fulfil it, I said to you that I desired\nto see you established in true and holy patience, because without this we\ncannot reach our sweet goal. I say no more. Remain in the holy and sweet\ngrace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO SISTER EUGENIA, HER NIECE\nAT THE CONVENT OF SAINT AGNES OF MONTEPULCIANO\n\n\nTwo nieces, daughters of Bartolo Benincasa, were nuns in the Convent of\nMontepulciano. To one of them the following letter is addressed. One can\nread between the lines a lively solicitude. Never cloistered herself,\nCatherine had a close intimacy with cloisters, and knew their best and\nworst. She held in hearty and loyal respect the opportunities which they\noffered for leading an exalted life; to this Convent of St. Agnes she was\npeculiarly attached. At the same time, she was well aware, as other\nletters beside the present show, that even the best of cloisters afforded\nat this time scant shelter to young girls from emotional temptation, gross\nor fine. Her warnings to her niece have the authoritative tone of anxiety.\nLet us hope that Eugenia took them to heart; and that, leading the\ndisciplined life of Catherine's desire, she became not unworthy to receive\nand apprehend in its full beauty the penetrating meditation on Prayer\nwhich forms the second part of the letter. The thoughts of this\nmeditation, like many others in Catherine's letters, will be found\namplified in her Dialogue--a colloquy between God and her soul, composed\nand dictated in trance during the year 1378. The following quotation\nillustrates an interesting passage of the letter:--\n\n\"In this way, vocal prayer can be useful to the soul and do Me pleasure,\nand from imperfect vocal prayer it can advance by persevering practice to\nperfect mental prayer. But if it aims simply to complete its number (of\npaternosters), or if it gave up mental prayer for the sake of vocal, it\nwould never arrive at perfection. Sometimes, when a soul has made a\nresolution to say a certain number of prayers, I may visit its mind, now\nin one way, now in another: at one time with the light of self-knowledge\nand contrition over its lightness, at another, with the largesse of My\ncharity; at another, by putting before its mind, in diverse manner as may\nplease Me, and as that soul may have craved, the Presence of My Truth. And\nthe soul will be so ignorant that it will turn from My Visitation, in\norder to complete its number, from a conscientious scruple against giving\nup what it began. It ought not to do thus, for this would be a wile of the\ndevil. But at once, when it feels its mind ready for My Visitation, in any\nway, as I said, it should abandon the vocal prayer. Then, when the mental\nhas passed, if there is time it can resume the other, which it had planned\nto say. But if there is not time it must not care nor be troubled or\nbewildered.\"\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest daughter in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of\nthe servants of Jesus Christ, write to thee in His precious Blood, with\ndesire to see thee taste the food of angels, since thou art made for no\nother end; and that thou mightest taste it, God bought thee with the Blood\nof His Only-Begotten Son. But reflect, dearest daughter, that this food is\nnot taken upon earth, but on high, and therefore the Son of God chose to\nbe lifted up upon the wood of the Most Holy Cross, in order that we might\nreceive this food upon this table on high. But thou wilt say to me: What\nis this food of angels? I reply to thee: it is the desire of God, which\ndraws to itself the desire that is in the depths of the soul, and they\nmake one thing together.\n\nThis is a food which while we are pilgrims in this life, draws to itself\nthe fragrance of true and sincere virtues, which are prepared by the fire\nof divine charity, and received upon the table of the cross. That is,\nvirtue is won by pain and weariness, casting down one's own fleshly\nnature;--the kingdom of one's soul which is called Heaven (_cielo_)\nbecause it hides (_cela_) God within it by patience, is seized with force\nand violence. This is the food that makes the soul angelic, and therefore\nit is called the food of angels; and also because the soul, separated from\nthe body, tastes God in His essential Being. He satisfies the soul in such\nwise that she longs for no other thing nor can desire aught but what may\nhelp her more perfectly to keep and increase this food, so that she holds\nin hate what is contrary to it. Therefore, like a prudent person, she\nlooks with the light of most holy faith, which is in the eye of the mind,\nand beholds what is harmful and what is useful to her. And as she has\nseen, so she loves and condemns--holding, I say, her own fleshly nature\nand all the vices which proceed from it, bound beneath the feet of her\naffections. She flees all causes that may incline her to vice or hinder\nher perfection. So she annuls her self-will, which is the cause of all\nevil, and subjects it to the yoke of holy obedience, not only to the Order\nand its chief, but to every least creature through God. She flees all\nglory and human indulgence, and glories only in the shames and sorrows of\nChrist crucified: insults, outrage, ridicule, injuries, are milk to her;\nshe joys in them, to be conformed with the Bridegroom, Christ crucified.\nShe renounces conversation with fellow-beings, because she sees that they\noften intervene between us and our Creator, and she flees to the actual\nand to the mental cell.\n\nTo this I summon thee and the others: and I command thee, dearest daughter\nmine, that thou abide for ever in the cell of self-knowledge, where we\nfind the angelic food of the eager desire of God toward us; and in the\nactual cell, with vigil and humble faithful continual prayer, divesting\nthy heart and mind of every creature, and clothing them with Christ\ncrucified. Otherwise thou wouldst eat upon the earth, and there I have\nalready said to thee, one should not eat. Reflect that thy Bridegroom,\nChrist sweet Jesus, wishes naught between thee and Him, and is very\njealous. So as soon as He saw that thou didst love any thing apart from\nHim, He would go from thee, and thou wouldst be made worthy to eat the\nfood of beasts. And wouldst thou not truly be a beast, and food for\nbeasts, didst thou leave the Creator for the creature, and infinite good\nfor finite and transitory things that pass like the winds, light for\ndarkness, life for death, Him who clothes thee in the sun of justice with\nthe clasp of obedience, and pearls of living faith, firm hope, and perfect\ncharity, for him who robs thee of them? And wouldst thou not be foolish\nindeed to depart from Him who gives thee perfect purity--so that the\ncloser thou dost cling to Him, the more the flower of thy virginity is\nrefined--for those who many a time and oft shed a stench of impurity,\ndefiling mind and body? God avert them from thee by His infinite mercy!\n\nAnd in order that no such thing may ever happen to thee, be on thy guard:\nlet not thy misfortune be such as to enter into any private conversation,\nwith monk or layman. For if I were to know or hear it, even if I were much\nfarther away than I am, I would give thee such a discipline that it would\nstay in thy memory all thy whole life; never mind who may be by. Beware\nneither to give nor receive, except in case of need, helping every one in\ncommon within and without. Be steadfast and mature in thyself. Serve the\nsisters tenderly, with all vigilance, especially those whom thou seest in\nneed. When guests pass by and ask for thee at the gratings, abide in thy\npeace and do not go--but let them say to the prioress what they wanted to\nsay to thee, unless she commands thee to go on thy obedience. Then, hold\nthy head bowed, and be as savage as a hedgehog. Keep in thy mind the\nmanners which that glorious virgin Saint Agnes made her daughters observe.\nGo to confession and tell thy need; and when thou hast received thy\npenance, run. Beware, moreover, that thy confessors be not from the men\nwho have brought thee up. And do not wonder because I talk so; for many a\ntime thou mayest have heard me say, and it is the truth, that the talk of\nso-called pious men and women, full of depraved expressions, ruins the\nsouls and the habits and practices of Religious. Beware that thou bind thy\nheart to none but Christ crucified; for the hour would come when thou\nwouldst wish to set it free and couldst not, which would be very hard for\nthee. I say that the soul which has tasted of the food of angels has seen\nin the light that this and the other things we were speaking of are an\nobstacle between itself and its food, and therefore flees them with the\ngreatest zeal. I say that it loves and seeks what may increase and\npreserve it. And because it has seen that this food is better enjoyed by\nmeans of prayer offered in self-knowledge, therefore it exercises itself\ntherein continually by all the ways in which it can hold closer to God.\n\nPrayer is of three sorts. The one is perpetual: it is the holy perpetual\ndesire, which prays in the sight of God, whatever thou art doing; for this\ndesire directs all thy works, spiritual and corporal, to His honour, and\ntherefore it is called perpetual. Of this it seems that Saint Paul the\nglorious was talking when he said: Pray without ceasing. The other kind is\nvocal prayer, when the offices or other prayers are said aloud. This is\nordained to reach the third--that is, mental prayer: your soul reaches\nthis when it uses vocal prayer in prudence and humility, so that while the\ntongue speaks the heart is not far from God. But one must exert one's self\nto hold and establish one's heart in the force of divine charity. And\nwhenever one felt one's mind to be visited by God, so that it was drawn to\nthink of its Creator in any wise, it ought to abandon vocal prayer, and to\nfix its mind with the force of love upon that wherein it sees God visit\nit; then, if it has time, when this has ceased, it ought to take up the\nvocal prayer again, in order that the mind may always stay full and not\nempty. And although many conflicts of diverse kinds should abound in\nprayer, and darkness of mind with much confusion, the devil making the\nsoul feel that her prayer was not pleasing to God--nevertheless, she ought\nnot to give up on account of those conflicts and shadows, but to abide\nfirm in fortitude and long perseverance, considering that the devil so\ndoes to draw her away from prayer the mother, and God permits it to test\nthe fortitude and constancy of that soul. Also, in order that by those\nconflicts and shadows she may know herself not to be, and in the goodwill\nwhich she feels preserved within her may know the goodness of God, Who is\nGiver and Preserver of good and holy wills: such wills as are not\nvouchsafed to all who want them.\n\nBy this means she attains to the third and last--mental prayer, in which\nshe receives the reward for the labours she underwent in her imperfect\nvocal prayer. Then she tastes the milk of faithful prayer. She rises above\nherself--that is, above the gross impulses of the senses--and with angelic\nmind unites herself with God by force of love, and sees and knows with the\nlight of thought, and clothes herself with truth. She is made the sister\nof angels; she abides with her Bridegroom on the table of crucified\ndesire, rejoicing to seek the honour of God and the salvation of souls;\nsince well she sees that for this the Eternal Bridegroom ran to the\nshameful death of the Cross, and thus fulfilled obedience to the Father,\nand our salvation. This prayer is surely a mother, who conceives virtues\nby the love of God, and brings them forth in the love of the neighbour.\nWhere dost thou show love, faith, and hope, and humility? In prayer. For\nthou wouldst never take pains to seek the thing which thou didst not love;\nbut he who loves would ever be one with what he loves--that is, God. By\nmeans of prayer thou askest of Him thy necessity; for knowing thyself--the\nknowledge on which true prayer is founded--thou seest thyself to have\ngreat need. Thou feelest thyself surrounded by thine enemies--by the world\nwith its insults and its recalling of vain pleasures, by the devil with\nhis many temptations, by the flesh with its great rebellion and struggle\nagainst the spirit. And thou seest that in thyself thou art not; not\nbeing, thou canst not help thyself; and therefore thou dost hasten in\nfaith to Him who is, who can and will help thee in thine every need, and\nthou dost hopefully ask and await His aid. Thus ought prayer to be made,\nif thou wishest to have that which thou awaitest. Never shall any just\nthing be denied thee which thou askest in this wise from the Divine\nGoodness; but if thou dost in other wise, little fruit shalt thou receive.\nWhere shalt thou feel grief in thy conscience? In prayer. Where shalt thou\ndivest thee of the self-love which makes thee impatient in the time of\ninsults and of other pains, and shalt clothe thee in the divine love which\nshall make thee patient, and shalt glory in the Cross of Christ crucified?\nIn prayer. Where shalt thou breathe the perfume of virginity and the\nhunger for martyrdom, holding thee ready to give thy life for the honour\nof God and the salvation of souls? In this sweet mother, prayer. This will\nmake thee an observer of thy Rule: it will seal in thy heart and mind\nthree solemn vows which thou didst make at thy profession, leaving there\nthe imprint of the desire to observe them until death. This releases thee\nfrom conversation with fellow-creatures, and gives thee converse with thy\nCreator; it fills the vessel of thy heart with the Blood of the Humble\nLamb, and crowns it with flame, because with flame of love that Blood was\nshed.\n\nThe soul receives and tastes this mother Prayer more or less perfectly,\naccording as it nourishes itself with the food of angels--that is, with\nholy and true desire for God, raising itself on high, as I said, to\nreceive it upon the table of the most sweet Cross. Therefore I said to\nthee that I desired to see thee nourished with angelic food, because I see\nnot that in otherwise thou couldst be a true bride of Christ crucified,\nconsecrated to Him in holy religion. So do that I may see thee a jewel\nprecious in the sight of God. And do not go about wasting thy time. Bathe\nand drown thee in the sweet Blood of thy Bridegroom. I say no more. Remain\nin the holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO NANNA, DAUGHTER OF BENINCASA\nA LITTLE MAID, HER NIECE, IN FLORENCE\n\n\nThis tender and playful little letter, with its childlike simplicity of\nfancy and gentle authority of tone, encourages us to believe that\nCatherine appreciated the full advantages of being an aunt. We have other\nindications that the many spiritual ties which held her as she grew older\nnever weakened the bond of any natural affection. Indeed, Catherine re-\ncreated each natural bond, when possible, as a spiritual bond, an\nachievement none too common. Doubtless, many children grew up around her\nin the large Benincasa household. We know that at the time of the plague,\nin 1374, Lapa was bringing up eleven grandchildren in her own house. Of\nthese, eight fell victims to the pestilence, and we have a glimpse of\nCatherine burying them with her own hands, and saying as she laid them to\nrest one by one, \"This one, at least, I shall not lose.\" Of the little\nNanna to whom this letter was written we know nothing, except that she was\nthe child of the elder brother, who, as we have already seen, had moved to\nFlorence.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest daughter in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of\nthe servants of Jesus Christ, write to thee in His precious Blood, with\ndesire to see thee a real bride of Christ crucified, running away from\neverything which might hinder thee from possessing this sweet and glorious\nBridegroom. But thou couldst not do this if thou wert not among those wise\nvirgins consecrated to Christ who had lamps with oil in them, and light\nwas within. See, then, if thou wishest to be a bride of Christ, thou must\nhave lamp, and oil, and light. Dost thou know what this means, daughter\nmine? By the lamp is meant our heart, because a heart ought to be made\nlike a lamp. Thou seest that a lamp is wide above and narrow below, and so\nthe heart is made, to signify that we ought always to keep it wide above,\nthrough holy thoughts and holy imaginations and continual prayer; always\nholding in memory the blessings of God, and chiefly the blessing of the\nBlood by which we are bought. For Blessed Christ, my daughter, did not buy\nus with gold or silver or pearls or other precious stones; nay, He bought\nus with His precious Blood. So one wants never to forget so great a\nblessing, but always to hold it before one's eyes, in holy and sweet\ngratitude, seeing how immeasurably God loves us: who did not shrink from\ngiving His only begotten Son to the opprobrious death of the Cross, to\ngive us the life of grace.\n\nI said that a lamp is narrow below, and so is our heart: to signify that\nthe heart ought to be narrow toward these earthly things--that is, it must\nnot desire nor love them extravagantly, nor hunger for more than God wills\nto give us; but ever thank Him, seeing how sweetly He provides for us so\nthat we never lack anything.\n\nNow in this way, our heart will really be a lamp. But reflect, daughter\nmine, that this would not be enough were there no oil within. By oil is\nmeant that sweet little virtue, profound humility: for it is fitting that\nthe bride of Christ be humble and gentle and patient; and she will be as\nhumble as she is patient, and as patient as she is humble. But we cannot\nattain this virtue of humility except by true knowledge of ourselves,\nknowing our misery and frailty, and that we by ourselves can do no good\ndeed, nor escape any conflict or pain; for if we have a bodily infirmity,\nor a pain or conflict in our minds, we cannot escape it or remove it--for\nif we could we should escape from it swiftly. So it is quite true that we\nin ourselves are nothing other than infamy, misery, stench, frailty, and\nsins; wherefore, we ought always to abide low and humble. But to abide\nwholly in such knowledge of one's self would not be good, because the soul\nwould fall into weariness and confusion; and from confusion it would fall\ninto despair: so the devil would like nothing better than to make us fall\ninto confusion, to drive us afterward to despair. We ought, then, to abide\nin the knowledge of the goodness of God in Himself, perceiving that He has\ncreated us in His image and likeness, and re-created us in grace by the\nBlood of His only-begotten Son, the sweet incarnate Lord; and reflecting\nhow continually the goodness of God works in us. But see, that to abide\nentirely in this knowledge of God would not be good, because the soul\nwould fall into presumption and pride. So it befits us to have one mixed\nwith the other--that is, to abide in the holy knowledge of the goodness of\nGod, and also in the knowledge of ourselves: and so we shall be humble,\npatient, and gentle, and in this way we shall have oil in our lamp.\n\nNow, then, we must have light--otherwise it would not be enough. This\nlight has to be the light of most holy faith. But the saints say that\nfaith without works is dead, so our faith might be neither living nor\nholy, but dead. Therefore we need to exert ourselves virtuously all the\ntime, and leave our childishness and vanities, and not behave any longer\nlike worldly girls, but like faithful brides consecrated to Christ\ncrucified; in this way we shall have a lamp, and oil, and light.\n\nThe Gospel says that these wise virgins were five. So I tell thee that\nthere must be five in each of us--otherwise we shall not enter the wedding\nfeast of eternal life.\n\nBy these five it is meant that we must subject and mortify our five bodily\nsenses, in such wise that we may never offend with them, taking through\nthem or some of them unregulated pleasure or delight. In this way we shall\nbe five, when we have subdued our five senses.\n\nBut think that that sweet Bridegroom Christ is more jealous of His brides\nthan I could tell thee! Therefore if He should see that thou didst love\nanyone more than Him, He would be angry with thee at once. And if thou\ndidst not correct thyself, the door would not be open to thee, to the\nwedding feast which Christ the Lamb without spot holds for all His\nfaithful: but we should be driven away like bad women, as those five\nfoolish virgins were, who, glorying only and vainly in the integrity and\nvirginity of their body, lost the virginity of their soul, through the\ncorruption of the five senses, because they did not carry the oil of\nhumility with them, so that their lamps went out. Therefore it was said to\nthem: \"Go hence to buy oil.\" By this oil is meant in this place the\nflatteries and praises of men; since all the flatterers and praisers of\nthe world sell this oil. As if it were said to them: \"You have not wanted\nto buy eternal life with your virginity and your good works; no, you have\nwanted to buy the praises of men, and to have the praises of men you have\nwrought. Go now and buy praises, for you will not enter here.\" Therefore,\ndaughter mine, beware of the praises of men; and do not want praise for\nany work that thou mayest do, for the door of eternal life would not be\nopen to thee later.\n\nSo, reflecting that this was the best way, I said that I desired to see\nthee a real bride of Christ crucified; and so I beg and command thee that\nthou try hard to be. I say no more to thee. Remain in the holy and sweet\ngrace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nLETTERS ON THE CONSECRATED LIFE\n\n\nCatherine is known in history as one of the great ascetics of the Church;\nthese letters show her intimate attitude toward the mortification of the\nflesh. She was a woman called of God and her natural powers, constantly to\nassume the dangerous duty of convincing men of their sin; these letters\ngive us her conception of the safeguards needed in the performance of that\nduty.\n\nBoth letters were written to Religious. Father William Flete was an\nEnglishman, who, passing through Italy in his youth, became fascinated\nwith the land, and spent the rest of his life in a hermit's cell in the\nForest of Lecceto. The annals of the time throw some entertaining side-\nlights on his figure. Famous for his austerities and for the sanctity of\nhis life, he was also a very impatient and somewhat intolerant person,\ngiven to carping criticism of his brother hermits. Catherine, in writing\nto him, analyses mercilessly the dangers of the ascetic life; one feels\nthat not much self-righteousness could be left in a man after reading her\ntrenchant phrases. Soon, however, she lifts him with her to the ardent\ncontemplation of the perfect life; it is in words of singular beauty that\nshe describes the attitude of generous loving-kindness, uncritical, humble\nand glad, with which the true servant of God considers all sorts and\nconditions of men: \"Such a man rejoices in every type that he sees,\nsaying: Thanks be to Thee, Eternal Father, that Thou hast many mansions in\nThy house.... He rejoices more in the differences among men than he would\nin seeing them all walk in the same way; for so he sees more manifest the\ngreatness of the goodness of God. He gets from everything the fragrance of\nroses.\"\n\nIn the letter to Sister Daniella, Catherine develops these ideas further.\nOf this \"great servant of God\" nothing is known except what Catherine's\nletters to her show. Something may be inferred from the fact that she is\none of the few people to whom the greater woman writes as to a spititual\nequal. She repeats to Daniella the letter to Father William--such\nwarnings, indeed, being needed by all persons leading the consecrated\nlife--and then goes on, in the remainder of the letter as here given, to\ndiscuss those farther reaches of perfection in which charity has done its\nperfect work. Two things she wishes herself and Daniella to observe: the\nfirst is abstinence from critical thoughts. Let us not \"judge the minds of\nour fellow-creatures, which are for God alone to judge.\" It is the key to\nher own method in her great cure of souls which she here gives us: \"When\nit seems that God shows us the faults of others, keep on the safer side--\nfor it may be that thy judgment is false. On thy lips let silence abide.\nAnd any vice which thou mayest ascribe to others, do thou ascribe at once\nto them and to thyself, in true humility. If that vice really exists in a\nperson, he will correct himself better, seeing himself so gently\nunderstood, and will say of his own accord the thing which thou wouldst\nhave said to him.\"--The other point which Catherine urges on Daniella is\nthe secondary importance of that life of mortification to which she firmly\nbelieves that they have both been called. \"Good is penance and maceration\nof the body; but do not present these to me as a rule for every one. If\neither for ourselves or others, we made penance our foundation ... we\nshould be ignorant, and should fall into a critical attitude, and become\nweary and very bitter: for we should strive to give a finished work to\nGod, Who is Infinite Love, and demands from us only infinite desire.\"\nSurely, in this last thought Catherine has attained in a flash to sublime\nspiritual insight.\n\nThe Saints knew all about telepathy long before Societies of Psychical\nResearch grew eager over the matter. It might surprise some modern\npsychologists to read the tranquil passage in which Catherine, assuming as\na matter of course that any servant of God engaged in intercessory prayer\nhas a mystical and direct knowledge of the condition of those she prays\nfor, proceeds to warn Daniella as intelligently as any modern could do,\nthough in different terms, as to the limitations within which this kind of\nknowledge can be trusted.\n\nThe little note with which this group closes is not written to a great\nrecluse, but to a tailor's wife. With the simple, Catherine showed herself\nsimple; but Monna Agnese is to lead the consecrated life no less than\nSister Daniella. Catherine's plain directions to the one about her daily\nliving evince the same mental clarity and sobriety as her exhortations to\nthe other, and discriminate in much the same way between the excitement of\nreligious practices and true consecration.\n\n\n\n\nTO BROTHER WILLIAM OF ENGLAND\nOF THE HERMIT BROTHERS OF ST. AUGUSTINE\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest son in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of the\nservants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood, with desire\nto see you in true light. For without light we shall not be able to walk\nin the way of truth, but shall walk in shadows. Two lights are necessary.\nFirst, we must be illumined to know the transitory things of the world,\nwhich all pass like the wind. But these are not rightly known if we do not\nknow our own frailty, how inclined it is, from the perverse law which is\nbound up with our members, to rebel against its Creator. This light is\nnecessary to every rational creature, in whatever state it may be, if it\nwishes to have divine grace, and to share in the blessing of the Blood of\nthe Spotless Lamb. This is the common light, that everybody in general\nought to have, for whoever has it not is in a state of condemnation. This\nis the reason; that, not having light, he is not in a state of grace; for\none who does not know the evil of wrong, nor who is cause of it, cannot\navoid it nor hate the cause. So he who does not know good, and virtue the\ncause of good, cannot love nor desire that good.\n\nThe soul must not stay content because it has arrived at gaining the\ngeneral light; nay, it ought to go on with all zeal to the perfect light.\nFor since men are at first imperfect rather than perfect, they should\nadvance in light to perfection. Two kinds of perfect people walk in this\nperfect light. There are some who give themselves to castigating their\nbody perfectly, doing very great harsh penance; and that the flesh may not\nrebel against the reason, they have placed all their desire rather on\nmortifying their body than on slaying their self-will. These people feed\nat the table of penitence and are good and perfect; but unless they have a\ngreat humility and conform themselves not wholly to judge according to the\nwill of God and not according to that of men, they often wrong their\nperfection, making themselves judges of those who do not walk in the same\nway in which they do.\n\nThis happens to them because they have put more thought and desire on\nmortifying their body than on slaying their self-will. Such men as these\nalways want to choose times and places and mental consolations to suit\nthemselves; also, worldly tribulations, and their battles with the devil;\nsaying, through self-deceit, beguiled by their own will--which is called\nspiritual self-will--\"I should like this consolation, and not these\nassaults or battles with the devil; not for my own sake, but to please\nGod, and possess Him more fully, because I seem to possess Him better in\nthis way than in that.\" Many a time, in such a way as this, the soul falls\ninto suffering and weariness, and becomes unendurable to itself through\nthem, and thus wrongs its state of perfection. The odour of pride clings\nto it, and this it does not perceive. For, were it truly humble and not\npresumptuous, it would see well that the Sweet Primal Truth gives\nconditions, time and place, and consolation and tribulation, according as\nis needful to our perfection, and to fulfil in the soul the perfection to\nwhich it is chosen. It would see that everything is given through love,\nand therefore with love.\n\nAll things ought to be received with reverence, as is done by the second\nclass of people, who abide in this sweet and glorious light, who are\nperfect in whatever condition they are, and, in so far as God permits\nthem, hold everything in due reverence, esteeming themselves worthy of\nsufferings and scandals in the world, and of missing their consolations.\nAs they hold themselves worthy of sufferings, so they hold themselves\nunworthy of the reward which follows suffering. These have known and\ntasted in the light the eternal will of God, which wishes naught but our\ngood, and that we be sanctified in Him, therefore giving His gifts. When\nthe soul has known this will, it is arrayed therein, and cares for nothing\nsave to see in what wise it can grow, and preserve its condition perfect,\nfor glory and praise of the Name of God. Therefore, it opens the eye of\nthe mind upon its object, Christ crucified, who is rule and way and\ndoctrine for perfect and imperfect: and sees the loving Lamb, Who gives it\nthe doctrine of perfection, which seeing it loves.\n\nPerfection is this: that the Word, the Son of God, fed at the table of\nholy desire for the honour of God and for our salvation; and with this\ndesire ran with great zeal to the shameful death of the Cross, avoiding\nneither toil nor labour, not drawing back for the ingratitude and\nignorance of us men who did not recognize His benefits, nor for the\npersecution of the Jews, nor for mockery or insults or criticism of the\npeople, but underwent them all, like our captain and true knight, who was\ncome to teach us His way and rule and doctrine, opening the door with the\nkeys of His precious Blood, shed with ardent love and hatred against sin.\nAs says this sweet, loving Word, \"Behold, I have made you a way, and\nopened the door with My blood. Be you then not negligent to follow it, and\ndo not sit yourselves down in self-love, ignorantly failing to know the\nWay, and presumptuously wishing to choose it after your own fashion, and\nnot after Mine who made it. Rise up then, and follow Me: for no one can go\nto the Father but by Me. I am the Way and the Door.\"\n\nThen the soul, enamoured and tormented with love, runs to the table of\nholy desire, and sees not itself in itself, seeking private consolation,\nspiritual or temporal, but, as one who has wholly destroyed his own will\nin this light and knowledge, refuses no toil from whatever side it comes.\nNay, in suffering, in pain, in many assaults from the devil and criticisms\nfrom men, it seeks upon the table of the Cross the food of the honour of\nGod and the salvation of men. And it seeks no reward, from God or from\nfellow-creatures; such men serve God, not for their own joy, and the\nneighbour not for their own will or profit, but from pure love. They lose\nthemselves, divesting them of the old man, their fleshly desires, and\narray them in the new man, Christ sweet Jesus, following Him manfully.\nThese are they who feed at the table of holy desire, and have more zeal\nfor slaying their self-will than for slaying and mortifying the body. They\nhave mortified the body, to be sure, but not as a chief aim, but as the\ntool which it is, to help in slaying self-will; for one's chief aim ought\nto be and is to slay the will; that it may seek and wish naught save to\nfollow Christ crucified, seeking the honour and glory of His Name, and the\nsalvation of souls. Such men abide ever in peace and quiet; there are none\nwho can offend them, because they have cast away the thing that gives\noffence--that is, self-will. All the persecutions which the world and the\ndevil can inflict run away beneath their feet; they stand in the water,\nmade fast to the twigs of eager desire, and are not submerged. Such a man\nas this rejoices in everything; he does not make himself a judge of the\nservants of God, nor of any rational creature; nay, he rejoices in every\ncondition and every type that he sees, saying, \"Thanks be to Thee, eternal\nFather, that Thou hast many mansions in Thy House.\" And he rejoices more\nin the different kinds of men that he sees than he would do in seeing them\nall walk in the same way, for so he sees the greatness of God's goodness\nmore manifest. He joys in everything, and gets from it the fragrance of\nroses. And even as to a thing which he may expressly see to be sin, he\ndoes not pose as a judge, but regards it rather with holy true compassion,\nsaying, \"To-day it is thy turn, and to-morrow mine, unless it be for\ndivine grace which preserves me.\"\n\nOh, holy minds, who feed at the table of holy desire, who have attained in\ngreat light to nourish you with holy food, clothed with the sweet raiment\nof the Lamb, His love and charity! You do not lose time in accepting false\njudgments, either of the servants of God or of the servants of the world;\nyou do not take offence at any criticism, either against yourselves or\nothers. Your love toward God and your neighbour is governed well, and not\nungoverned. And because it is governed, such men as these, dearest son,\nnever take offence at those whom they love; for appearances are dead to\nthem, and they have submitted themselves not to be guided by men, but only\nby the Holy Spirit. See then, these enjoy in this life the pledge of life\neternal.\n\nI wish you and the other ignorant sons to reach this light, for I see that\nthis perfection is lacking to you and to others. For were it not lacking\nto you, you would not have fallen into such criticism and offence and\nfalse judgment, as to say and believe that another man was guided and\nmastered by the will of the creature and not of the Creator. My soul and\nmy heart grieve to see you wrong the perfection to which God has called\nyou, under pretence of love and odour of virtue. Nevertheless, these are\nthe tares which the devil has sowed in the field of the Lord; he has done\nthis to choke the seed of holy desire and doctrine sowed in your fields.\nWill then to do so no more, since God has of grace given you great lights;\nthe first, to despise the world; the second, to mortify the body; the\nthird, to seek the honour of God. Do not wrong this perfection with\nspiritual self-will, but rise from the table of penance and attain the\ntable of the desire of God, where the soul is wholly dead to its own will,\nnourishing itself without suffering on the honour of God and the salvation\nof souls, growing in perfection and not wronging it.\n\nTherefore, considering that this condition cannot be had without light,\nand seeing that you had it not, I said that I desired and desire to see\nyou in true and perfect light. Thus I pray you, by the love of Christ\ncrucified--you and Brother Antonio and all the others--that you struggle\nto win it, so that you may be numbered among the perfect and not among the\nimperfect. I say no more. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God. I\ncommend me to all of you. Bathe you in the Blood of Christ crucified.\nSweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO DANIELLA OF ORVIETO\nCLOTHED WITH THE HABIT OF ST. DOMINIC\n\n\nThou seest, then, that such men enjoy in this life the pledge of life\neternal. They receive, not the payment, but the pledge--not waiting to\nreceive it till the enduring life, where is life without death, satiety\nwithout disgust, and hunger without pain. For far is the pain of hunger,\nsince they have completely what they desire; and far is the disgust of\nsatiety, since that is the Food of Life without any lack. It is true that\nin this life one begins to enjoy the pledge, in this way, that the soul\nbegins to be an-hungered for the food of the honour of God and the\nsalvation of souls. As it is an-hungered, so it feeds thereon; yes, the\nsoul nourishes itself on charity for the neighbour, for whom it has a\nhungry desire. That is a food which never satisfies those nourished on it.\nIt never satiates, and therefore hunger lasts for ever. As a pledge is a\nbeginning of surety given to a man, through which he expects to receive\npayment (not that the pledge is perfect in itself, but it gives assurance\nthrough one's trust, that fulfilment will come), so the soul enamoured of\nChrist, which has already received in this life the pledge of love for God\nand its neighbour, is not perfect in itself, but awaits the perfection of\nthe life immortal. I say that this pledge is not perfect--that is, the\nsoul which enjoys it has not yet reached such perfection as not to feel\nsufferings, in itself or others: in itself, from the wrong it does to God,\nthrough the perverse law which is bound into our members; and in others,\nfrom the wrong of the neighbour. It is, to be sure, perfect in grace, but\nit has not the perfection of the saints, who are in the eternal life, as I\nsaid; since their desires are free from suffering and ours are not. Dost\nthou know how it is with the true servant of God, who nourishes him at the\ntable of holy desire? He is bless\u00e8d and grieving, as was the Son of God\nupon the wood of the Most Holy Cross: for the flesh of Christ was grieved\nand tortured, and the soul was bless\u00e8d, through its union with the Divine\nNature. So, through the union of our desire with God, ought we to be\nblessed, and clothed with His sweet will; and grieving, through compassion\nfor our neighbour, casting from us sensuous joys and comforts and\nmortifying our flesh.\n\nBut listen, daughter and dearest sister. I have spoken to thee and me in\ngeneral, but now I shall speak to thee and me in particular. I want us to\ndo two special things, in order that ignorance may not hinder our\nperfection, to which God calls us; that the devil, under cloak of virtue\nand love of the neighbour, may not nourish the root of presumption within\nour soul. For from this we shall fall into false judgments; seeming to\nourselves to judge aright, we shall judge crookedly: often, if we followed\nour own impressions, the devil would make us see many truths to lead us\ninto falsehood; and this, because we make ourselves judges of the minds of\nour fellow-creatures, which are for God alone to judge.\n\nThis is one of the two things from which I wish that we should free\nourselves completely. But I want the lesson to be learned reasonably. This\nis the reasonable way: if God expressly, not only once or twice, but more\noften, reveals the fault of a neighbour to our mind, we ought never to\ntell it in particular to the person whom it concerns, but to correct in\ncommon the vices of all those whom it befalls us to judge, and to implant\nvirtues, tenderly and benignly. Severity in the benignity, as may be\nneeded. And should it seem that God showed us repeatedly the faults of\nanother, yet unless there were, as I said, a special revelation, keep on\nthe safer side, that we may escape the deceit and malice of the devil; for\nhe would catch us with this hook of desire. On thy lips, then, let silence\nabide, and holy talk of virtues, and disdain of vice. And any vice that it\nmay seem to thee to recognize in others, do thou ascribe at once to them\nand to thyself, using ever a true humility. If that vice really exists in\nany such person, he will correct himself better, seeing himself so gently\nunderstood, and will say that to thee which thou wouldest have said to\nhim. And thou wilt be safe, and wilt close the way to the devil, who will\nbe unable to deceive us or to hinder the perfection of thy soul. Know that\nwe ought not to trust in any appearances, but to put them behind our\nbacks, and abide only in the perception and knowledge of ourselves. And if\nit ever happened that we were praying particularly for some fellow-\ncreatures, and in prayer we saw some light of grace in one of those for\nwhom we were praying, and none in another, who was also a servant of God--\nbut thou didst seem to see him with his mind abased and sterile--do not\ntherefore assume to judge that there is grave fault or lack in him, for it\nmight be that thy opinion was false. For it happens sometimes that when\none is praying for the same person, one occasion will find him in such\nlight and holy desire before God that the soul will seem to fatten on his\nwelfare; and on another occasion thou shalt find him when his soul seems\nso far from God, and full of shadows and temptations, that it is toil to\nwhoso prays for him to hold him in God's presence. This may happen\nsometimes through a fault of him for whom one is praying, but more often\nit is due not to a fault, but to God's having withdrawn Himself from this\nsoul--that is, He has withdrawn Himself as to any feeling of sweetness and\nconsolation, though not as to grace. So the soul will have stayed sterile,\ndry, and full of pain--which God makes that soul which is praying for it\nperceive. And God does this in mercy to that soul which receives the\nprayer, that thou mayest aid Him to scatter the cloud. So thou seest,\nsweet my sister, how ignorant and worthy of rebuke our opinion would be,\nif simply from these appearances we judged that there was vice in this\nsoul. Therefore, if God showed it to us so troubled and darkened, when we\nhave already seen that it was not deprived of grace, but only of the\nsweetness of feeling God's presence--I beg thee, then, thee and me and\nevery servant of God, that we apply us to knowing ourselves perfectly,\nthat we may more perfectly know the goodness of God; so that, illumined,\nwe may abandon judging our neighbour, and adopt true compassion, hungering\nto proclaim virtues and reprove sin in both ourselves and them, in the way\nwe spoke of before.\n\nWe have spoken of one thing, but now I tell thee of the other, which I beg\nthat we rebuke in ourselves: if sometimes the devil or our own very evil\nconstruction of matters tormented us by making us want to send or see all\nthe servants of God walking in the same way that we are walking in\nourselves. For it frequently happens that a soul which sees itself advance\nby way of great penance, would like to send all people by that same way;\nand if it sees that they do not walk there, it is displeased and shocked,\nfeeling that they are not doing right: while sometimes it will happen that\nthe man is doing better and being more virtuous than his critic, although\nhe does not do as much penance. For perfection does not consist in\nmacerating or killing the body, but in killing our perverse self-will. And\nin this way, of the will destroyed, submitted to the sweet Will of God, we\nought indeed to desire all men to walk. Good is penance and the maceration\nof the body; but do not show me these as a rule for every one, since all\nbodies are not alike, and also since it often happens that a penance begun\nhas to be given up from many accidents that may occur. If, then, we made\nourselves or others build on penance as a foundation, it might come to\nnothing, and be so imperfect that consolation and virtue would fail the\nsoul; for, deprived of the thing which it loved and had made of prime\nimportance, it would seem to be deprived of God, and so would fall into\nweariness and very great sadness and bitterness, and would lose in the\nbitterness the activity and fervent prayer to which it was accustomed. So\nthou seest what evil would follow from making penance alone one's chief\nconcern: we should be ignorant, and should fall into a critical attitude,\nand become weary and very bitter; we should strive to give only a finished\nwork to God, who is Infinite Good that demands from us infinite desire. We\nought, then, to build our foundation on killing and destroying our own\nperverse will; with that will submitted to the will of God, we shall\ndevote sweet, hungry, infinite desire to the honour of God and the\nsalvation of souls. Thus shall we feed at the table of that holy desire\nwhich never takes offence either at itself or at its neighbour, but\nrejoices and finds fruit in everything. Miserable woman that I am, I mourn\nthat I never followed this true doctrine; nay, I have done the contrary,\nand therefore I feel that I have often fallen into irritation and a\njudicial attitude toward my neighbour. Wherefore I pray thee, by the love\nof Christ Crucified, that for this and for my every other infirmity,\nhealing may be found; so that thou and I may begin to-day to walk in the\nway of truth, enlightened to build our true foundation on holy desire, and\nnot trusting in appearances and impressions; so that we may not lightly\nneglect ourselves and judge the faults of our neighbours, unless by way of\ncompassion or general rebuke.\n\nThis we shall do if we nourish us at the table of holy desire: otherwise\nwe cannot. For from desire we have light, and light gives us desire; so\none nourishes the other. Therefore I said that I desired to see thee in\nthe true light. I say no more. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God.\nSweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO MONNA AGNESE\nWIFE OF FRANCESCO, A TAILOR OF FLORENCE\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest daughter in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of\nthe servants of Jesus Christ, write to thee in His precious Blood, with\ndesire to see thee clothed in true and perfect humility--for that is a\nlittle virtue which makes us great in the sweet sight of God. This is the\nvirtue which constrained and inclined God to make His most sweet Son\nincarnate in the Womb of Mary. It is as exalted as the proud are humbled;\nit shines in the sight of God and men; it binds the hands of the wicked,\nit unites the soul with God, it purifies and laves away the soil of our\nsin, and calls on God to show us mercy. I will then, sweetest daughter,\nthat thou strive to embrace this glorious virtue, so that thou mayest pass\nover the stormy sea of this world free from storm and peril.\n\nNow comfort thee in this sweet and sincere virtue, and bathe thee in the\nBlood of Christ crucified. And when thou canst empty thy time for prayer,\nI pray thee to do it. And love tenderly every rational being. Then, I beg\nand command thee not to fast, except, when thou canst, on the days\ncommanded by Holy Church. And when thou dost not feel strong enough to\nfast then, do not observe them. At other times, do not fast, except when\nthou feelest able, on Saturday. When this heat is over, fast on the days\nof Holy Mary, if thou canst, and no more. And drink something beside water\nevery day. Labour hard to increase thy holy desire, and let these other\nthings alone for the future. Do not be anxious or depressed over us, for\nwe are all well. When it shall please the Divine Goodness, we shall see\none another again. I say no more to thee. Remain in the holy and sweet\ngrace of God. Comfort my sweet daughters, Ursula and Ginevra. Sweet Jesus,\nJesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nLETTERS IN RESPONSE TO CERTAIN CRITICISMS\n\n\nCatherine had ample opportunity to suffer from those keenly critical\ninstincts of the respectable which she reproved in the last group of\nletters. Her life was full of eager unconventionalities that drew down on\nher the frequent distrust of her co-religionists and fellow-townsmen. We\ncannot tell what special cause had excited the indignation of the loyal\nfriends to whom the following note is written; but we may enjoy the spirit\nof fresh and pure humility in which Catherine gives them the difficult\ninjunction to acquiesce in any criticism made upon her.\n\nThe very matters which were later to be considered as proofs of her\nsanctity, were during her lifetime grounds of suspicion. Some unknown,\nexercised in his mind over the reports of her extraordinary abstinence,\ntook evidently what would to-day appear the somewhat impertinent course of\nwriting her a letter of remonstrance. Catherine's inability or reluctance\nto eat as much as others was one of the most interesting marvels of her\nlife to her simple contemporaries. It is clear, that partly from the\nextreme mortification which according to mediaeval custom she inflicted on\nher flesh from childhood, her condition became at an early age thoroughly\nabnormal. Salads and water were practically her only diet; the curious are\nreferred to the copious details furnished by her biographers. Meantime,\nthe present letter shows how reasonable was her own attitude in the\nmatter. It shows also with what gentle dignity she received criticism. The\nlittle touch at the end--\"I pray you not to be light in judging, if you\nare not surely illumined in the sight of God\"--is the only hint at a\nnatural impulse of resentment: unless one reads, as it is tempting to do,\na delicate irony in the opening portion of the letter.\n\n\n\n\nTO MONNA ORSA\nWIFE OF BARTOLO USIMBARDI\nAND TO MONNA AGNESE\nWIFE OF FRANCESCO DI PIPINO TAILOR OF FLORENCE\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest daughter in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of\nthe servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood: with\ndesire to see you persevere in holy desire, so that you may never look\nback. For otherwise you would not receive your reward, and would\ntransgress the word of the Saviour, which says that we are not to turn\nback to look at the furrow. Be persevering, then, and contemplate not what\nis done, but what you have to do. And what have we to do? To turn our\naffections constantly back toward God, despising the world with all its\njoys, and loving virtue, bearing with true patience what the divine\ngoodness permits us; considering that whatever He gives is given for our\ngood that we may be sanctified in Him. We shall find in the Blood that the\ntruth is thus. So we ought to fill our memory with this glorious Blood,\nwhich shows us so sweet a truth, that we may never be without the\nrecollection of it. Thus I want you to do, dearest daughters: that in this\nlife you shall persevere until death, and at the close of your life shall\nreceive the Eternal Vision of God. I say no more here.\n\nI reprove thee, dearest my sweet daughter, because thou hast not kept in\nmind what I told thee--not to answer anyone who should say to thee\nanything about myself that seemed to thee less than good. Now I do not\nwish thee to do so any more, but I wish both of you to reply to anyone who\nnarrated my faults to you in this wise--that they are not telling so many\nthat a great many more might not be told. Tell them to be moved by\ncompassion within their hearts in the sight of God, as they appear to be\nby their tongues--and to pray the Divine Goodness earnestly for me, that\nIt will correct my life. Then say to them that it is the Highest Judge who\nwill punish my every fault, and reward every labour that shall be borne\nfor His Name. As to Monna Paula, I do not wish thee to be in the least\nindignant with her: but think that she is acting like a good mother, who\nwants to test her daughter to see whether she has virtue or not. I confess\ntruthfully that I have found little success in myself; but I have hope in\nmy Creator, who will make me correct myself and change my way of life.\nComfort you, and give yourselves no more pain; for we shall find ourselves\nunited in the fire of divine Charity, a union that shall be taken from us\nneither by demon nor by creature. I say no more to you. Remain in the holy\nand sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO A RELIGIOUS MAN IN FLORENCE\nWHO WAS SHOCKED AT HER ASCETIC PRACTICES\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest and most beloved father in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, a\nuseless servant of Jesus Christ, commend me to you: with the desire to see\nus united and transformed in that sweet, eternal and pure Truth which\ndestroys in us all falsity and lying. I thank you cordially, dearest\nfather, for the holy zeal and jealousy which you have toward my soul: in\nthat you are apparently very anxious over what you hear of my life. I am\ncertain that nothing affects you except desire for the honour of God and\nfor my salvation, which makes you fear the assaults and illusions of\ndevils. As to your special fear, father, concerning my behaviour about\neating, I am not surprised; for I assure you, that not only do you fear,\nbut I myself tremble, for fear of devilish wiles. Were it not that I trust\nin the goodness of God, and distrust myself, knowing that in myself I can\nhave no confidence. For you sent, asking me whether or no I believed that\nI might be deceived, saying that if I did not believe so, that was a wile\nof the devil. I answer you, that not only about this, which is above the\nnature of the body, but about all my other activities also, I am always\nafraid, on account of my frailty and the astuteness of the devil, and\nthink that I may be deceived; for I am perfectly well aware that the devil\nlost beatitude, but not wisdom, with which wisdom, as I said, I recognized\nthat he might deceive me. But then I turn me, and lean against the Tree of\nthe Most Holy Cross of Christ crucified, and there will I fasten me; and I\ndo not doubt that if I shall be nailed and held with Him by love and with\nprofound humility, the devils will have no power against me--not through\nmy virtue, but through the virtue of Christ crucified.\n\nYou sent me word to pray God particularly that I might eat. I tell you, my\nfather, and I say it in the sight of God, that in all ways within my power\nI have always forced myself once or twice a day to take food. And I have\nprayed constantly, and do pray God and shall pray Him, that in this matter\nof eating He will give me grace to live like other creatures, if it is His\nwill--for it is mine. I tell you, that often enough, when I have done what\nI could, I enter within myself, to recognize my infirmity, and God, who by\nmost special grace has made me correct the sin of gluttony. I grieve much\nthat I have not corrected that miserable fault of mine through love. I for\nmyself do not know what other remedy to adopt, except that I beg you to\npray that Highest Eternal Truth, that He give me grace, if it is more for\nHis honour and the salvation of my soul, to enable me to take food if it\nplease Him. And I am sure that the goodness of God will not despise your\nprayers. I beg you that if you see any remedy you will write me of it; and\nprovided it be for the honour of God, I will accept it willingly. Also I\nbeg you not to be light in judging, if you are not clearly illumined in\nthe sight of God. I say no more to you. Remain in the holy and sweet grace\nof God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO BROTHER BARTOLOMEO DOMINICI\nOF THE ORDER OF THE PREACHERS WHEN HE WAS BIBLE READER AT FLORENCE\n\n\nBelief in the wrath to come is sufficiently real to Catherine, and the\ncurrent demonology of her day slips readily from her tongue. These things\nshe accepted as she found them. But the atmosphere in which her spirit\nbreathes is the perception of the love of God. The spiritual history of\nthe race, from the creation to the coming of the Spirit and the perpetual\nsupport of the soul in the Sacrament of the Altar, is to her a revelation\nof the One encompassing Love, poured forth in fresh measure and under new\nforms at each stage in the movement of human destiny.\n\nAnd so, in this little letter, she invites us to enter with her the\n\"peaceful and profound sea\" found in the words \"God is Love.\" Elsewhere,\nboth in her Dialogue and in a letter to one Brother Matteo Tolomei, she\nanalyses with keen insight the relations which redeemed humanity can bear\nto the Loving God; she tells us how the servant, obedient through fear,\nmay become the friend, obedient through gratitude and desire for spiritual\nblessings; and how these lower loves, through the operation of the Holy\nSpirit, may be transformed into the love of the son, who seeks God for His\nown sake, \"with nothing between.\" And how shall human love, when it has\nreached this point, reflect the love of Him who \"needs not man's work nor\nHis own gifts?\" How become, not merely receptive, but active and creative?\nCatherine gives the simple Christian answer: \"God has loved us without\nbeing loved, but we love Him because we are loved.... We cannot be of any\nprofit to Him, nor love Him with this first love. Yet God demands of us,\nthat as He has loved us without any second thoughts, so He should be loved\nby us. In what way can we do this, then, since He demands it of us and we\ncannot give it to Him? I tell you: through a means which He has\nestablished by which we can love Him freely, and without the least regard\nto any profit of ours: we can be useful, not to Him, which is impossible,\nbut to our neighbour.... To show the love we have to Him, we ought to\nserve and love every rational creature.... Every virtue receives life from\nlove, and love is gained in love, that is, by raising the eye of our mind\nto behold how much we are beloved of God. Seeing ourselves loved, we\ncannot do otherwise than love.... So thou seest that we conceive virtues\nthrough God and bring them to the birth for our neighbour.\"\n\nThus do Catherine's loftiest meditations end on the practical note. Her\nfundamental thought, here as elsewhere, is strikingly akin to the thought\nof St. Bernard. Love yourself not for your own sake, but for God! she\nconstantly repeats. To the same effect, Bernard describes at length the\nprogress of the soul till it reaches the highest stage, in which self-love\nis so lost that even gratitude is left behind, and man loves himself and\nGod for the sake of God alone.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nTo you, most beloved and dear father, through reverence of the most sweet\nSacrament, and son in Christ Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of the\nservants of Jesus Christ, write and send comfort in His precious Blood,\nwith desire to see you kindled, on fire, and consumed in His most ardent\ncharity, since I know that he who is on fire and consumed with this\ncharity sees not himself. This, then, I will that you do. I summon you to\nenter through this most ardent charity, a sea that is peaceful and\nprofound. This I have just now found anew--not that the sea is new, but\nthat it is new to me in the feeling of my soul--in that word, God is Love.\nAnd in this word, as the mirror reflects the face of man, and the sun its\nlight upon the earth, so it is reflected in my soul, that all His works\nwhatsoever are Love alone, for they are not wrought of anything save love.\nTherefore He says, \"I God am Love.\" From this a light is thrown on the\nunsearchable mystery of the Incarnate Word, who by force of love was given\nwith such humility that it confounds my pride, and teaches us not to\nregard His works, but the burning devotion of the Word given to us. He\nsays that we should do as he who loves: who, when his friend comes with a\npresent, looks not at the hands for the gift which he brings, but opens\nthe eye of love, and regards his heart and affection. So He wills that we\nshould do, when the Highest eternal goodness of God, sweet above all\nthings, visits our soul. It visits us then with measureless benefits. Let\nmemory act swiftly to receive the intention in the divine charity: and let\nthe will arise with most ardent desire, and receive and behold the\nsacrificed Heart of sweet and good Jesus the Giver: and thus you shall\nfind you kindled and clothed with fire, and with the gift of the Blood of\nthe Son of God; and you shall be free from all pain and disease. This it\nwas which took away the pain of the holy disciples, when it behoved them\nto leave Mary and one another, and gladly they endured that separation, to\nsow the word of God. Run then, run, run.\n\nConcerning the affairs of Benincasa, I cannot reply unless I am at Siena.\nThank Messer Nicolao for the charity which he has shown for them. Alessa\nand I and Cecca, poor women, commend ourselves to you a thousand thousand\ntimes. May God be ever in your soul, amen. Jesus, Jesus.\n\nCatherine, servant of the servants of God.\n\n\n\n\nTO BROTHER MATTEO DI FRANCESCO TOLOMEI\nOF THE ORDER OF THE PREACHERS\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest son in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of the\nservants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood, with desire\nto see you seek God in truth, not through the intervention of your own\nfleshliness or of any other creature, for we cannot please God through any\nintervening means. God gave us the Word, His Only-Begotten Son, without\nregard to His own profit. This is true, that we cannot be of any profit to\nHim; but the reverse is not the case, because, although we do not serve\nGod for our profit, nevertheless we profit just the same. To Him belongs\nthe flower of honour, and to us the fruit of profit. He has loved us\nwithout being loved, and we love because we are loved: He loves us of\ngrace, and we Him of duty, because we are bound to love Him. We cannot be\nof any profit to God just as we cannot love Him of grace, without duty.\nFor we are bound to Him, and not He to us, because before He was loved, He\nloved us, and therefore created us in His Image and Likeness. There it is,\nthen: we cannot be of any profit to Him, nor love Him with this first\nlove. Yet I say that God demands of us, that as He has loved us without\nany second thoughts, so He should be loved by us. In what way can we do\nthis, then, since He demands it of us, and we cannot give it Him? I tell\nyou: through a means which He has established, by which we can love Him\nfreely, and without the least regard to any profit of ours; that is, we\ncan be useful, not to Him, which is impossible, but to our neighbour. Now\nby this means we can obey what He demands of us for the glory and praise\nof His Name; to show the love that we have for Him, we ought to serve and\nlove every rational creature, and extend our charity to good and bad, to\nevery kind of people, as much to one who does us ill service and\ncriticises us as to one who serves us. For God is no respecter of persons,\nbut of holy desires, and His charity extends over just men and sinners.\n\nOne man, to be sure, He loves as a son, and one as a friend, and another\nas a servant, and another as a person who has departed from Him, for whose\nreturn He longs--these last are the wicked sinners who are deprived of\ngrace. But wherein does the Highest Father show His love to these? In\nlending them time, and in time He gives them many opportunities, either to\nrepent of their sins, taking from them place and power to do as much ill\nas they would, or He has many other ways to make them hate vice and love\nvirtue, the love of which takes away the wish to sin. And so, through the\ntime which God gave them in love, from foes they are made friends, and\nhave grace and are fit to become the Father's heirs.\n\nHe loves as sons those who serve Him in truth without any servile fear,\nwho have annulled and killed their self-will, and are through God obedient\ntill death to every rational creature: no mercenaries they, who serve Him\nfor their own profit, but sons; and they despise consolations and joy in\ntribulations, and seek only in what way they can conform them to Christ\ncrucified, and nourish them on His shames and labours and sorrows. Such\nmen seek not God nor serve Him for sweetness or consolation, spiritual or\ntemporal, which they receive from God or the fellow-creature; they seek\nnot God for their own sakes, nor the neighbour, but God for God, inasmuch\nas He is worthy of being loved, and themselves for God, for the glory and\npraise of His Name; and they serve their neighbour for God, being of what\nprofit they may to Him. These men follow the footsteps of the Father,\nrejoicing wholly in charity toward their neighbour, loving the servants of\nGod through the love with which they love their Creator; and they love\nimperfect men through love that they should reach perfection, devoting to\nthem holy desire and continual prayers. They love wicked men, who lie in\nthe death of mortal sin, because they are rational beings, created by God,\nand bought by the same Blood as they, wherefore they mourn over their\ncondemnation, and to rescue them would give themselves to bodily death. As\nto the persecutors and slanderers and judges who take offence at them,\nthey love these both because they are creatures of God, as I said, and\nalso because they are the means and cause of testing their virtue, and\nhelping them reach perfection--especially as to that royal virtue\npatience, a sweet virtue, which is never offended or disturbed, nor cast\ndown by any contrary wind or any molesting of men. Such men are those who\nseek God with nothing between, and love Him truly as dear and lawful sons;\nand He loves them as a true father, and shows them the secret of His\ncharity, to make them heirs of His eternal kingdom, wherefore they run,\nrefreshed by the Blood of Christ, kindled by the fire of divine charity,\nby which they are perfectly illumined. Such men do not run in the path of\nvirtue after their own fashion, nay, but after the fashion of Christ\ncrucified, following in His steps. Were it possible for them to serve God\nand win virtue without labour, they would not wish it. These men do not\nact like the second kinds of men, the friend and the servant, for the\nservice of these last has some ulterior thought. Sometimes it has regard\nto the man's own profit; one can reach great friendship in this way, when\nhe knows his need, and his benefactor, who, as he sees, can and will help\nhim. Yet first he was a servant, for he knew his own wrong-doing, on which\nfollowed punishment; so from the fear of punishment he drives out his sin,\nand lovingly embraces virtue, serving his Lord, whom he has wronged; and\nhe begins to draw hope from His benignity, considering that He wills not\nthe death of a sinner, but that he be converted and live. If the man abode\nin fear alone, it would not suffice to give him life, nor would he attain\nto the perfect favour of his Lord; but he would be a mercenary servant.\nNor ought he to remain only in the love of the fruit and the consolation\nwhich he might receive from his Lord, after he has been made a friend; for\nthis kind of love would not be strong, but would fail when it was deprived\nof sweetness or consolation and joy of mind, or else when some contrary\nwind struck it, of persecution or temptation from the devil; then at once\nit would fail under temptations of the devil or vexations of the flesh. So\nit would fall into confusion through being deprived of mental consolation;\nand in the persecutions and insults wrought against it by fellow-\ncreatures, it would fall into impatience.\n\nSo you see, that this kind of love is not strong. Nay, he who loves with\nthis love does as St. Peter, who before the Passion loved Christ tenderly;\nbut he was not strong, therefore he failed in the time of the Cross: but\nthen, after the coming of the Holy Spirit, he separated him from the love\nof sweetness, and lost fear, and reached a love strong, and tried in the\nfire of many tribulations. Thence, having reached the love of a son, he\nbore all such with true patience--nay, ran under them in great gladness,\nas he had been going to a marriage feast and not to torment. This was\nbecause he had been made a son. But had Peter remained absorbed in the\nsweetness and the fear which he felt in the Passion and after the Passion\nof Christ, he would not have reached such perfection as to be a son and\nchampion of Holy Church, a lover and seeker of souls. But note the way\nthat Peter took, and the other disciples, to gain power to lose their\nservile fear and love of consolations, and to receive the Holy Spirit, as\nhad been promised them by the Sweet Primal Truth. Therefore says the\nScripture that they shut them in the house, and stayed there in vigil and\ncontinual prayers; they stayed ten days, and then came the Holy Spirit.\n\nNow this is the teaching which we and every rational creature ought to\nreceive; to shut ourselves into the house, and remain in vigil and\ncontinual prayer: to stay ten days, and then we shall receive the\nplenitude of the Holy Spirit. Who, when He was come, illumined them with\ntruth; and they saw the secret of the immeasurable love of the Word, with\nthe will of the Father, who willed naught but our sanctification. This has\nbeen shown us by the Blood of that sweet and enamoured Word: who was\nrestored to His disciples, when the plenitude of the Holy Spirit came. He\ncame with the power of the Father, the wisdom of the Son, the mercy and\nclemency of the Holy Spirit; so the truth of Christ is fulfilled, which He\nspake to His disciples: I shall go and shall return to you. Then did He\nreturn, because the Holy Spirit could not come without the Son and the\nFather, because He was one thing with them. Thus He came, as I said, with\nthe power that is assigned to the Father, and the wisdom that is assigned\nto the Son, and the benevolence and love that is assigned to the Holy\nSpirit. Well did the Apostles show it, for suddenly through love they lost\ntheir fear. So in true wisdom they knew the truth, and went with great\npower against the infidels; they threw idols to the ground and drove out\ndevils. This was not with the power of the world, nor with bodily\nfortitude, but with strength of spirit and the power of God, which they\nhad received through Divine grace. Now thus it will happen to those who\nhave arisen from the filth of mortal sin and the misery of this world, and\nbegin to taste the Highest Good and enamour themselves of His sweetness.\nBut as I have said, by remaining in fear alone, one would not escape hell;\nbut would do like the thief, who does not steal, because he is afraid of\nthe gallows; but he would not abstain from stealing if he did not expect\nto be punished. It is just such a case when one loves God for the\nsweetness of it; that is, one would not be strong and perfect, but weak\nand imperfect.\n\nThe way to arrive at perfection is that of the disciples, as I said. That\nis, as Peter and the others shut themselves into the house, so those have\ndone and should do who have attained the love of the Father, who are sons.\nThose who wish to reach this state should enter the house, and shut\nthemselves in; that is, the house of the knowledge of themselves, which is\nthe cell that the soul should inhabit. Within this cell another cell is\nfound, that of the knowledge of the goodness of God in Himself. So from\nknowledge of self the soul draws true humility, with holy hatred of the\nwrong which it has done to its Creator, and by this it attains to true and\nholy patience. And from the knowledge of God, which it finds in itself, it\nwins the virtue of most ardent charity: whence it draws holy and loving\ndesires. In this wise it finds vigil and continual prayer--that is, while\nit abides enclosed in so sweet and glorious a thing as is the knowledge of\nitself and of God. It keeps vigil, I say, not only with the eye of the\nbody, but with the eye of the soul; that is, the eye of the intellect\nnever sees itself closed, but remains opened upon its Object and ineffable\nLove, Christ crucified: and there it finds love, and its own guilt. For\nthat guilt, Christ gave us His Blood. Then the soul uplifts itself with\ndeepest devotion, to love what God loves and to hate what He hates. And it\ndirects all its works in God, and does everything to the glory and praise\nof His Name. This is the continual prayer of which Paul says, \"Pray\nwithout ceasing.\" Now this is the way to rise from being only a servant\nand a friend--that is, from servile fear and from tender love of one's own\nconsolation--and to arrive at being a true servant, true friend, true son.\nFor when one is truly made a son, he does not therefore lose being a\nservant and true friend; but is a servant and friend in truth, without any\nregard to himself, or to anything except pleasing God alone.\n\nWe said that they abode ten days, and then came the Holy Spirit. So the\nsoul, which wishes to arrive at this perfection, must observe ten days,\nthat is the ten commandments of the law. And with the legal commandments\nit will observe the Counsels; for they are bound together, and the one\ncannot be observed without the other. True, those who are in the world\nmust observe the Counsels mentally, through holy desire, and those who are\nfreed from the world must observe them both mentally and actually. Thus,\nif the soul receives the abundance of the Holy Spirit, with true wisdom of\ntrue and perfect light and knowledge, and with fortitude and power to make\nit strong in every battle, it becomes mighty chiefly against itself,\nlording it over its own fleshly nature. But all this you could not do if\nyou went roaming about, in much conversation, keeping far from the cell,\nand neglecting the choir. Whence, considering this, I said to you when you\nleft me that you should study to flee conversation and to visit the cell,\nand not to abandon the choir or the refectory (so far as might be possible\nto you), and to keep vigil with humble prayer: and thus to fulfil my\ndesire, when I told you that I desired to see you seek God in truth,\nwithout anything between. I say no more to you. Remain in the holy and\nsweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO A MANTELLATA OF SAINT DOMINIC CALLED CATARINA DI SCETTO\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nMy dearest sister and daughter in Christ sweet Jesus. I Catherine, servant\nand slave of the servants of Jesus Christ, write to thee in His precious\nBlood, with desire to see thee a true servant and bride of Christ\ncrucified. Servants we ought to be, because we are bought with His blood.\nBut I do not see that we can be of any profit to Him by our service; we\nought, then, to be of profit to our neighbour, because he is the means by\nwhich we test and gain virtue. Thou knowest that every virtue receives\nlife from love; and love is gained in love, that is, by raising the eye of\nour mind to behold how much we are beloved of God. Seeing ourselves loved,\nwe cannot do otherwise than love; loving Him, we shall embrace virtue\nthrough the force of love, and shall hate vice and spurn it.\n\nSo thou seest that we conceive virtues through God, and bring them to the\nbirth for our neighbour. Thou knowest well that for the necessity of thy\nneighbour thou bringest forth the child charity that is within thy soul,\nand patience in the wrongs which thou receivest from him. Thou givest him\nprayer, particularly to those who have done thee wrong. And thus we ought\nto do; if men are untrue to us, we ought to be true to them, and\nfaithfully to seek their salvation; loving them of grace, and not by\nbarter. That is, do thou beware not to love thy neighbour for thine own\nprofit; for that would not be faithful love, and thou wouldst not respond\nto the love which God bears thee. For as God has loved thee of grace, so\nHe wills that since thou canst not return this love to Him, thou return it\nto thy neighbour, loving him of grace and not by barter, as I said.\nNeither if thou art wronged, nor if thou shouldst see love toward thee, or\nthy joy or profit lessened, must thou lessen or stint love toward thy\nneighbour; but love him tenderly, bearing and enduring his faults; and\nbeholding with great consolation and reverence the servants of God.\n\nBeware lest thou do like mad and foolish people who want to set themselves\nto investigate and judge the deeds and habits of the servants of God. He\nwho does this is entirely worthy of severe rebuke. Know that it would not\nbe different from setting a law and rule to the Holy Spirit if we wished\nto make the servants of God all walk in our own way--a thing which could\nnever be done. Let the soul inclined to this kind of judgment think that\nthe root of pride is not yet out, nor true charity toward the neighbour\nplanted--that is, the loving him by grace and not by barter. Then let us\nlove the servants of God, and not judge them. Nay, it befits us to love in\ngeneral every rational creature: those who are outside of grace we must\nlove with grief and bitterness over their fault, because they wrong God\nand their own soul. Thus thou shalt be in accord with that sweet enamoured\nPaul, who mourns with those who mourn, and joys with those who joy; thus\nthou shalt mourn with those who are in mournful state, through desire for\nthe honour of God and for their salvation; and thou shalt joy with the\nservants of God who rejoice, possessing God through loving tenderness.\n\nThou seest, then, that through charity to God we conceive virtues, and\nthrough charity toward our neighbours they are brought to the birth. Being\nthus--loving thy neighbour sincerely, without any falsity of love or\nheart, freely, without any regard to thine own profit, spiritual or\ntemporal--thou shalt be a true servant, and respond by means of thy\nneighbour to the love which thy Creator bears thee; thou shalt be a\nfaithful, not a faithless bride. Then does the bride fail in faith to her\nbridegroom, when she gives to another creature the faith which she ought\nto give to him. Thou art a bride, for Christ in His circumcision showed\nthat He would wed the human race. Thou, beholding love so ineffable,\nshouldst love Him without any means that might be apart from God. Thus art\nthou made the servant of thy neighbour, serving him in all things to the\nmeasure of thy power. Verily thou art the bride of Christ, and shouldst be\nthe servant of thy neighbour. If thou art a faithful bride, since we can\nneither be of profit nor of service to God by the love which we bear Him,\nwe ought, as I said, to serve our neighbour with true and heartfelt love.\nIn no other way nor wise can we serve Him. Therefore I said to thee that I\ndesired to see thee the true servant and bride of Christ crucified. I say\nno more. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus\nLove.\n\n\n\n\nLETTERS TO NERI DI LANDOCCIO DEI PAGLIARESI\n\n\nNeri di Landoccio dei Pagliaresi is one of the attractive group of\nCatherine's secretaries, which included also Stefano Maconi and Barduccio\nCanigiani. There is something very charming, wholly Italian and mediaeval,\nin the thought of the three highly-born and gently-bred young Tuscans,\nwho, without leaving the world or taking religious vows, attached\nthemselves with a pure and passionate devotion to the person of the Beata\nPopulana, dedicated their time and powers to her service, caught the fire\nof her ideals, and after her death followed her wishes for their future.\nThe faces that appear a little later in such pictures as Botticelli's\n\"Adoration of the Magi,\" help us to understand the type of these young\nmen.\n\nOf the three secretaries, Neri was the first to enter Catherine's service.\nIt was he who introduced to her most of the people who later became her\ndisciples, and many letters yet extant from one and another show that he\nwas devotedly loved by the little group. He was of a sensitive, subtle,\nand despondent temperament--a reader of Dante, himself a poet, a man given\nto self-torment, and, as his later life showed, with a tendency to\nmelancholia. He must have possessed tact, force, and probably charm, for\nCatherine more than once sent him on important embassies--once as\nharbinger of her own coming to Pope Gregory at Avignon, and again, at a\nlater time, to the corrupt and brilliant court of Queen Giovanna at\nNaples. In obedience to the dying wish of his spiritual mother--who\nprobably well understood his needs--he became a hermit after her death.\n\nCatherine writes to this fine but fearful soul with an exquisite\ntenderness. \"Confusion of mind,\" with its inhibiting sadness and\nhelplessness, is of all evils in the world the one most abhorrent to her\nclear, decisive, intuitive nature. Against this, his besetting danger, she\nseeks with all her customary vigour to protect her beloved disciple. The\nlove rather than the wrath of God was, as we have seen, ever the chief\nburden of Catherine's teaching. Never did she dwell on it more earnestly\nthan here, as with searching insight into the unfathomable depths of the\nDivine mercy, she writes firmly: \"His truth is this, that He created us to\ngive us life eternal.\" Her words must have brought reassurance to any\ndarkened vision, while her practical counsels were never more adapted to\nindividual need than in these peculiarly gentle letters, written to one\nwhose temptations and spiritual perils were far different from her own.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest son in Christ sweet Jesus. I Catherine, servant and slave of the\nservants of Jesus Christ, write to thee in His precious Blood: with desire\nto see thee in the true light, that in the light may be known the truth of\nthy Creator. His truth is this, that He created us to give us life\neternal. But because man rebelled against God, this truth was not\nfulfilled, and therefore He descended to the greatest depths to which\ndescent is possible, when Deity assumed the vesture of our humanity. So we\nsee in this glorious light that God has been made man, and this He has\ndone to fulfil His truth in us: and He has shown this to us verily by the\nBlood of the Loving Word, inasmuch that what we held by faith is proved to\nus with the price of that Blood. The creature that has reason in itself\ncannot deny that this is so.\n\nI will, then, that thy confusion be consumed and vanish in the hope of the\nBlood, and in the fire of the immeasurable Love of God; and that nothing\nremain but the true knowledge of thyself, in which thou shalt humble thee\nand grow, and nourish light in thy soul. Is not He more ready to pardon\nthan we to sin? And is not He the Physician and we the sick, the Bearer of\nour iniquities? And does not He hold confusion of mind as worse than all\nother faults? Yes, truly. Then, dearest son, open the eye of thine\nintellect in the light of most holy faith, and behold how much thou art\nbeloved of God. And from beholding His love, and the ignorance and\ncoldness of thy heart, do not fall into confusion; but let the flame of\nholy desire increase, with true knowledge and humility, as I said. And the\nmore thou seest that thou hast not responded to such great favours as thy\nCreator has shown thee, humble thyself the more, and say with holy\nresolution: \"What I have not done to-day, I will do now.\" Thou knowest\nthat confusion is wholly discordant with the doctrine which has always\nbeen given thee. It is a leprosy that dries up soul and body, and holds\nthem in continual affliction, and binds the arms of holy desire, and does\nnot let one do what one would; and it makes the soul unendurable to\nitself, disposing the mind to conflicts and varying fantasies; it robs the\nsoul of supernatural light, and darkens its natural light. So one falls\ninto great faithlessness, because one does not know the truth of God, in\nwhich He has created us--that is, that He created us in truth to give us\nlife eternal. Then with living faith, with holy desire, and with hope in\nthe Blood of Christ, let the devil of confusion be defeated.\n\nI say no more. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God. I pray Him to\ngive thee His sweet benediction. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest and sweetest son in Christ sweet Jesus. I Catherine, servant and\nslave of the servants of Jesus Christ, write to thee in His precious\nBlood: with desire to see in thee the light of most holy faith, in order\nthat thou mayest never be shocked by anything that may happen to thee; but\nmay thy mind be pacified concerning all the mysteries of God, as thou\nbeholdest the ineffable love which moved Him to draw forth from Himself\nreasonable creatures, and to give us His image and likeness, and to buy us\nwith the Blood of the humble and spotless Lamb. Thus doing, thou wilt hold\nall that happens to thee in due reverence, and in true humility thou wilt\ndeny mere appearances, when sometimes through the illusion of the devil\nthings seem to thee to get out of their right proportion, through thy many\nmental occupations and sweet physical torments. I say no more. Remain in\nthe holy and sweet grace of God. May Christ the Blessed give thee His\neternal benediction. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest and sweetest son in Christ sweet Jesus. I Catherine, servant and\nslave of the servants of Jesus Christ, write to thee in His precious\nBlood: with desire to see thee ever grow from virtue to virtue, till I\nbehold thee return to that sea of peace where thou shalt never have any\nfear of being separated from God. For the foul perverse law that fights\nagainst the Spirit shall be left on earth, and shall have rendered its due\nthereto. I will, sweet my son, that while thou livest in this life thou\nexert thee to live dead to all self-will, and in such death thou shalt win\nvirtue. Thus living, thou shalt resign to earth the law of perverse\ndesire. So thou shalt not fear lest God permit in thy case what He\npermitted in that other, nor shalt thou suffer, because for a little while\nthe human part of thee is separated from me and from the rest of the\nfamily. Comfort thee, and may that which Truth says abide in thy mind--\nthat not one person shall be lost out of His hands. I say out of His\nhands, because all things are His. And I know that thou understandest me\nwithout many words. I say no more. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of\nGod. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO MONNA GIOVANNA AND HER OTHER DAUGHTERS IN SIENA\n\n\n\"Teach us, O Lord, and enable us to live the life of saints and angels!\"\ncried Cardinal Newman. There is a lovely parallel to Catherine's prayer in\nthe Paternoster of Dante's blessed souls in Purgatory:\n\n  \"Come del suo voler gli angeli tuoi\n  Fan sacrificio a te, cantando osanna,\n  Cosi facciano gli uomini de' suoi.\"\n\nFrom the gentle thoughts on non-resistance with which this letter opens,\nCatherine turns with transition as fine as sudden to the splendid figure\nof the holy soul as a horse without bridle, running most swiftly \"from\ngrace to grace, from virtue to virtue.\" One is accustomed by Plato--not to\nspeak of Browning in \"The Two Poets of Croisic\"--to the image of the soul\nas a charioteer. Catherine's metaphor is less familiar but not less\nforceful. The will, to her, is only free when pure: impure and sinful\ndesires, far from being the sign of liberty, are the bit and bridle that\nhinder its fiery course toward God. The same thought, less vividly put, is\nfound in a modern theologian--Dr. Moberly. \"The real consummation of\neither moral or immoral character,\" he writes, \"would exclude the\nambiguity which was offered as the criterion of free will.... Full power\nto sin is not the key to freedom. On the contrary, all inherent power to\ndo wrong is a direct infringement of the reality of free-will.... Free-\nwill is not the independence of the creature, but rather his self-\nrealisation in perfect dependence. Freedom is self-identity with\ngoodness.\"\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest and most beloved daughters in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine,\nservant and slave of the servants of Jesus Christ, and your mother in\nChrist, write to you and comfort you in the Precious Blood of the Son of\nGod, who was a gentle Lamb, spotless and slain not by power of nails or\nlance, but by power of love and measureless charity which He felt and\nstill feels to His creatures. Oh, charity unspeakable of our God! Thou\nhast taught me, Love most sweet, and hast shown me, not by words alone--\nfor Thou sayest that Thou dost not delight in many words--but by deeds,\nin which Thou sayest that Thou dost delight, and which Thou dost demand\nfrom Thy servants. And what hast Thou taught me, O Love Uncreate? Thou\nhast taught me that I should bear, patiently like a lamb, not only harsh\nwords, but even blows harsh and hard and injury and loss. And with this\nThou dost will that I be innocent and spotless, harmful to no one of my\nneighbours and brethren; not only in case of those who do not persecute\nus, but in that of those who injure us; Thou dost will that we pray for\nthem as for special friends who give us a good and great gain. And Thou\ndost will that we be patient and meek not only in injuries and temporal\nlosses, but universally, in everything that may be contrary to my will: as\nThou didst not will Thine own will to be done in anything, but the will of\nThy Father. How then shall we lift up our head against the goodness of\nGod, wishing that our perverted wills should be fulfilled? How shall we\nnot will that the will of God be fulfilled?\n\nO Jesus, Most Sweet Love, make Thy will to be fulfilled in us ever, as in\nHeaven by Thy Angels and saints! Dearest my daughter in Christ, this is\nthe meekness which our sweet Saviour wants to find in us: that we, with\nhearts wholly peaceful and tranquil, be content with everything which He\nplans and does concerning us, and wish neither times nor seasons in our\nown way, but in His alone. Then the soul, so divested of its every wish\nand clothed with the will of God, is very pleasing to God. Like an\nunbridled horse, it runs most swiftly from grace to grace, from virtue to\nvirtue; for it has no bridle that holds or prevents it from running, since\nit has severed from itself every inordinate appetite and impulse of its\nown self-will, which are bands and bridles that do not allow the souls of\nspiritual men to run.\n\nThe affairs of the Crusade are going constantly better and better, and the\nhonour of God is increasing every day. Increase constantly in virtue, and\nfurnish the ship of your soul, for our time draws near. Comfort and bless\nFrancesca, from Jesus Christ and me; and tell her to be zealous that I may\nfind her increased in virtue when I shall return. Bless and comfort all my\nsons in Christ. Now this very day the ambassador of the Queen of Cyprus\ncame and talked to me. He is going to the Holy Father, Christ on earth, to\nurge him concerning the affairs of the holy Crusade. And, moreover, the\nHoly Father has sent to Genoa to urge them concerning the same thing.\n\nOur sweet Saviour give you His eternal benediction! Remain in the holy and\nsweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO MESSER JOHN\nTHE SOLDIER OF FORTUNE AND HEAD OF THE COMPANY\nTHAT CAME IN THE TIME OF FAMINE\n\n\n _Which letter is one of credentials, certifying that he may put faith in\nall things said to him by Fra Raimondo of Capua. Wherefore the said Fra\nRaimondo went to the said Messer John, and the other captains, to induce\nthem to go over and fight against the infidels should it happen that\nothers should go. And before leaving he had from them and from Messer John\na promise on the sacrament that they would go, and they signed it with\ntheir hands and sealed it with their seals._\n\n So runs the old heading to this letter. It is piquant to contemplate\nCatherine writing to that picturesque gentleman, Sir John Hawkwood. Her\nattitude of friendly and almost sisterly sympathy with the audacious free-\nlance appears in her unwonted addition of the word \"glory\" to her usual\nformula, \"The honour of God and the salvation of souls,\" in the last\nsentence. We are told that the letter and Fra Raimondo produced a real\nimpression, and that Hawkwood not only vowed himself to the Crusade, but\nthat, no Crusade occurring, he from this time bore arms only in regular\nwarfare. He who follows the Englishman's subsequent career may perhaps\nwonder a little what \"regular warfare\" meant to his mind. Yet let us\nremember to his credit that Hawkwood protested against the massacre of\nCesena--nor was this the only occasion on which his nature flashed for a\nmoment a chivalrous light. May his bones rest in peace in the Duomo of\nFlorence, that city to the gates of which he brought terror and dismay,\nbut which bore him no grudge, and at the end decreed him splendid\nfunerals, and sepulchre among her honoured sons!\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nTo you, most beloved and dear brothers in Christ Jesus: I Catherine,\nservant and slave of the servants of Jesus Christ, write in His precious\nBlood: with desire to see you a true son and knight of Christ, in such\nwise that you may desire to give your life a thousand times, if need were,\nin service of sweet and good Jesus. This is a gift which would pay off all\nour sins, which we have committed against our Saviour. Dearest and\nsweetest brother in Christ Jesus, it would be a great thing now if you\nwould withdraw a little into yourself, and consider, and reflect how great\nare the pains and anguish which you have endured by being in the service\nand pay of the devil. Now my soul desires that you should change your way\nof life, and take the pay and the cross of Christ crucified, you and all\nyour followers and companions; so that you may be Christ's company, to\nmarch against the infidel dogs who possess our Holy Place, where rested\nthe Sweet Primal Truth and bore death and pains for us. I beg you, then,\ngently in Christ Jesus, that since God and also our Holy Father have\nordered a crusade against the infidels, and you take such pleasure in war\nand fighting, you should not make war against Christians any more--for\nthis is a wrong to God; but go against the infidels! For it is a great\ncruelty that we who are Christians, and members bound in the Body of Holy\nChurch, should persecute one another. We are not to do so; but to rise\nwith perfect zeal, and to uplift ourselves above every evil thought.\n\nI marvel much that you, having, as I heard, promised to be willing to go\nto die for Christ in this holy crusade, are wanting to make war in these\nparts. This is not that holy disposition which God demands from you if you\nare to go to so holy and venerable a place. It seems to me that you ought\nnow, at this present time, to dispose you to virtue, until the time shall\ncome for us and the others who shall be ready to give their lives for\nChrist: and thus you shall show that you are a manly and true knight.\n\nThere is coming to you this father and son of mine, Brother Raimondo, who\nbrings you this letter. Trust in what he tells you; because he is a true,\nfaithful servant of God, and will advise you and say to you nothing except\nwhat will be to the honour of God and the safety and glory of your soul. I\nsay no more. I beg you, dearest brother, to keep in memory the shortness\nof your time. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus,\nJesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO MONNA COLOMBA IN LUCCA\n\n\nLet us hope that the frivolous Monna Colomba listened to Catherine's\ngentle but very explicit exhortations and turned away from her levities.\nIf she had a sense of humour--and it is a not uncommon possession of\nlight-minded elderly widows--she must have been lovingly entertained at\nthe pale virgin's identification of herself with those who \"walk in the\nway of luxuries and pleasures,\" and \"set themselves up as an example of\nsin and vanity.\" But Catherine's use of the first person in this\nconnection, strained though it may appear, is more than a figure of\nspeech, to soften the severity of her rebuke. We learn from the legend\nthat till the end of her life she never ceased to repent, bitterly and\nwith tears, for having at the age of twelve allowed an older sister to\ndress her prettily, and blanch her hair after the fashion of the day. The\nreason for this terrible lapse, as she told her confessor, was simply a\ndelight in beautiful things--but she always looked back on it with horror.\n\nThe application of the finding of Christ in the Temple, in this letter, is\ncurious, but not devoid of grace.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nTo you, dearest sister and daughter in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine,\nservant and slave of the servants of Jesus Christ, write in His precious\nBlood, with desire that I might see you a fruitful field, receiving the\nseed of the Word of God, and bringing forth fruit for yourself and others.\nI want to see you, who are now getting to be an old woman, and who are\nfree from worldly ties, a mirror of virtue to younger women, who are still\nbound to the world by the tie of their husbands.\n\nAlas, alas, I perceive that we are unfruitful ground, for we are letting\nthe Word of God be smothered by the inordinate affections and desires of\nthe world, and are walking in the way of its luxuries and pleasures,\nstudying to please our fellow-beings rather than our Creator. And there is\na more wretched thing yet, for our own evil-doing is not enough for us;\nwhere we ought to be an example of virtue and modesty, we set ourselves up\nas an example of sin and vanity. And as the devil was not willing to fall\nalone, but wanted a large company with him, so we are enticing other\npeople to those same vanities and amusements that we indulge in ourselves.\nYou ought to withdraw, by love of virtue and your salvation, from vain\ndiversions and worldly weddings--for they do not suit your condition--and\ntry to keep others away, who would like to be there. But you talk bad\ntalk, and entice young women, who are wanting to withdraw from going to\nthese things through love of virtue, because they see that it is wronging\nGod. I do not wonder, then, if no fruit appears, since the seed is\nsmothered as I said. Perhaps you would find some excuse in saying,\n\"Still, I have to condescend to my friends and relatives by doing this, so\nthat they will not be annoyed and irritated with me.\" So fear and\nperverted self-indulgence sap our life, and often kill us; rob us of the\nperfection to which God chose and calls us. This excuse is not acceptable\nto God; for we ought not to condescend to people in a matter which wrongs\nGod and our own soul; nor to love or serve them, except in those matters\nwhich come from God and befit our condition.\n\nOh me, miserable! Was it our relatives or friends or any fellow-being who\nbought us? No; Christ crucified alone was the Lamb who with love\nunsearchable sacrificed His Body, making Him our Purification and Healing,\nour Food and Raiment, and the Bed where we can rest. He had no regard to\nlove of self nor fleshly joy, but abased Himself in pain, enduring shames\nand insults, seeking the honour of the Father and our salvation. It ill\nbefits that we poor miserable men should hold by another way than that\nheld by the Sweet Primal Truth.\n\nYou know that God is not found in luxuries and pleasures. We perceive that\nwhen Our Saviour was lost in the Temple, going to the Feast, Mary could\nnot find Him among friends or relatives, but found Him in the Temple\ndisputing with the doctors. And this He did to give us an example--for He\nis our Rule, and the Way we should follow. Notice that it says that He was\nlost when going to the Feast. Know, most beloved sister, that, as was\nsaid, God is not found at feasts or balls or games or weddings or places\nof recreation. Nay, going there is a very sure means of losing Him, and\nfalling into many sins and faults, and inordinate frivolous self-\nindulgence. Since this is the reason that has made us lose God by grace,\nis there any way to find Him again? Yes; to accompany Mary. Let us seek\nHim with her, in bitterness and pain and distaste for the fault committed\nagainst our Creator, to condescend to the will of men. It befits us then\nto go to the Temple, and there He is found. Let our hearts, our minds, and\ndesires be lifted up with this Company of Bitterness, and let us go to the\nTemple of our soul, and there we shall know ourselves. Then the soul,\nrecognizing itself not to be, will recognize the goodness of God towards\nit, who is He who is. Then the will shall be uplifted with zeal, and shall\nlove what God loves and hate what God hates. Then, as it enters into\nreason with itself, it will rebuke the memory which has held in itself the\ngaieties and pleasures of the world, and has nor held nor retained the\nfavours and gifts and great benefits of God, who has given Himself to us\nwith so great fire of love. It will rebuke the mind, which has given\nitself to understand the will of fellow-creatures, and the shows and\nobservances of the world, rather than the will of its Creator, and\ntherefore will and fleshly love have turned them to love and desire those\ngross things of sense, which pass like the wind. The soul should not do\nthus, but should note and know the will of God, which seeks and wants\nnaught but our sanctification, and has therefore given us life.\n\nGod has not set you free from the world, for you are smothered and drowned\nin the world by your affections and inordinate desires. Now, have you more\nthan one soul? No. If you had two, you might give one to God and the other\nto the world. Nor have you more than one body, and this gets tired over\nevery little thing.\n\nBe a dispenser to the poor of your temporal substance. Submit you to the\nyoke of holy and true obedience. Kill, kill your own will, that it may not\nbe so tied to your relatives, and mortify your body, and do not so pamper\nit in delicate ways. Despise yourself, and have in regard neither rank nor\nriches, for virtue is the only thing that makes us gentlefolk, and the\nriches of this life are the worst of poverty when possessed with\ninordinate love apart from God. Recall to memory what the glorious Jerome\nsaid about this, which one can never repeat often enough, forbidding that\nwidows should abound in daintiness, or keep their face anointed, or their\ngarments choice or delicate. Nor should their conversation be with vain or\ndissolute young women, but in the cell: they should do like the turtle-\ndove, who, when her companion has died, mourns for ever, and keeps to\nherself, and wants no other company. Limit your intercourse, dearest and\nmost beloved Sister, to Christ crucified; set your affection and desire on\nfollowing Him by the way of shame and true humility, in gentleness,\nbinding you to the Lamb with the bands of charity.\n\nThis my soul desires, that you may be a true daughter, and a bride\nconsecrated to Christ, and a fruitful field, not sterile, but full of the\nsweet fruits of true virtues. Hasten, hasten, for time is short and the\nroad is long. And if you gave all you have in the world, time would not\npause for you from running its course. I say no more. Remain in the holy\nand sweet grace of God. Pardon me if I have said too many words, for the\nlove and zeal that I have for your salvation have made me say them. Know\nthat I would far rather do something for you than merely talk. May God\nfill you with His most sweet Favour. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO BROTHER RAIMONDO OF CAPUA\nOF THE ORDER OF THE PREACHERS\n\n\nThe following is one of the famous letters of the world. The record in art\nand literature of the scene which it depicts has carried knowledge of\nCatherine to many who otherwise would have but the vaguest idea of her\npersonality. The letter has been frequently translated, but most of the\ntranslators have avoided the opening and closing paragraphs, with their\namazing, confused, and to our modern taste almost shocking metaphors.\nSurely, however, we want the whole just as Catherine poured it out; full\nof intense excitement, her emotions clearer than her ideas, lifted into a\nregion where taste and logic have no meaning, and using, to convey the\ninexpressible feelings quickened by the events she describes, homeliest\nfigures of speech, such as her commercial surroundings naturally suggest\nto her. For the matter of that, modern congregations sing with no\ndistress:\n\n  \"Jesus let me still abide\n  In Thy heart and Wounded Side.\"\n\nThe reiteration of the figure of the Blood is here psychologically\ninevitable. Catherine writes still quivering from close contact with the\nvictim of a mediaeval execution.\n\nA young gentleman from Perugia, Niccolo Tuldo by name, had been condemned\nto death for speaking critically of the Sienese Government. It does not\nappear that he was a serious political conspirator, but simply a young man\nwhose aristocratic sympathies led him thoughtlessly to the use of haughty\nor bitter speech. But a _parvenu_ Government is always sensitive. We hear\nof a man at this time being condemned and executed because he had not\ninvited one of the Riformatori to a feast!\n\nDeath was lightly inflicted in those days: probably it was no more lightly\nsuffered than in our own. We have vivid accounts of the incredulity with\nwhich Niccolo Tuldo received his sentence--incredulity leading to horror,\nto rage, to rebellion, to black despair. Then Catherine went to him; her\nown words tell the rest. As one reads of the wonderful effect of her\nsoothing presence, as one sees the terrified youth becoming quiet and\nsubdued, clinging wistfully to the spiritual strength of this frail woman,\nand catching at the end not only her spirit of calm submission, but even\nsomething of her exaltation, one is irresistibly reminded of another\nscene--George Eliot's marvellous description in \"Adam Bede\" of Dinah's\nministry to Hetty in the prison. But this scene is real, that only\nimagined; and here no third person, but the consoler herself, reveals the\nmeaning of the experience to her own spirit.\n\nIn bringing Niccolo Tuldo to so illumined an end that he recognized the\njudgment-place as holy, and died in full accord with the will of God,\nCatherine achieved a great marvel which only Christianity can compass: she\nlifted one of those seemingly purposeless and cruel accidents of destiny\nwhich stagger faith, into unity with the organic work of the world's\nredemption.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nMost beloved and dearest father and dear my son in Christ Jesus: I\nCatherine, servant and slave of the servants of Jesus Christ, write to\nyou, commending myself to you in the precious Blood of the Son of God;\nwith desire to see you inflamed and drowned in that His sweetest Blood,\nwhich is blended with the fire of His most ardent charity. This my soul\ndesires, to see you therein, you and Nanni and Jacopo my son. I see no\nother remedy by which we may reach those chief virtues which are necessary\nto us. Sweetest father, your soul, which has made itself food for me--(and\nno moment of time passes that I do not receive this food at the table of\nthe sweet Lamb slain with such ardent love)--your soul, I say, would not\nattain the little virtue, true humility, were it not drowned in the Blood.\nThis virtue shall be born from hate, and hate from love. Thus the soul is\nborn with very perfect purity, as iron issues purified from the furnace.\n\nI will, then, that you lock you in the open side of the Son of God, which\nis an open treasure-house, full of fragrance, even so that sin itself\nthere becomes fragrant. There rests the sweet Bride on the bed of fire and\nblood. There is seen and shown the secret of the heart of the Son of God.\nOh, flowing Source, which givest to drink and excitest every loving\ndesire, and givest gladness, and enlightenest every mind and fillest every\nmemory which fixes itself thereon! so that naught else can be held or\nmeant or loved, save this sweet and good Jesus! Blood and fire,\nimmeasurable Love! Since my soul shall be blessed in seeing you thus\ndrowned, I will that you do as he who draws up water with a bucket, and\npours it over something else; thus do you pour the water of holy desire on\nthe head of your brothers, who are our members, bound to us in the body of\nthe sweet Bride. And beware, lest through illusion of the devils--who I\nknow have given you trouble, and will give you--or through the saying of\nsome fellow-creature, you should ever draw back: but persevere always in\nthe hour when things look most cold, until we may see blood shed with\nsweet and enamoured desires.\n\nUp, up, sweetest my father! and let us sleep no more! For I hear such news\nthat I wish no more bed of repose or worldly state. I have just received a\nHead in my hands, which was to me of such sweetness as heart cannot think,\nnor tongue say, nor eye see, nor the ears hear. The will of God went on\nthrough the other mysteries wrought before; of which I do not tell, for it\nwould be too long. I went to visit him whom you know: whence he received\nsuch comfort and consolation that he confessed, and prepared himself very\nwell. And he made me promise by the love of God that when the time of the\nsentence should come, I would be with him. So I promised, and did. Then in\nthe morning, before the bell rang, I went to him: and he received great\nconsolation. I led him to hear Mass, and he received the Holy Communion,\nwhich he had never before received. His will was accorded and submitted to\nthe will of God; and only one fear was left, that of not being strong at\nthe moment. But the measureless and glowing goodness of God deceived him,\ncreating in him such affection and love in the desire of God that he did\nnot know how to abide without Him, and said: \"Stay with me, and do not\nabandon me. So it shall not be otherwise than well with me. And I die\ncontent.\" And he held his head upon my breast. I heard then the rejoicing,\nand breathed the fragrance of his blood; and it was not without the\nfragrance of mine, which I desire to shed for the sweet Bridegroom Jesus.\nAnd, desire waxing in my soul, feeling his fear, I said: \"Comfort thee,\nsweet my brother; since we shall soon arrive at the Wedding Feast. Thou\nshalt go there bathed in the sweet Blood of the Son of God, with the sweet\nName of Jesus, which I will never to leave thy memory. And I await thee at\nthe place of justice.\" Now think, father and son, his heart then lost all\nfear, and his face changed from sorrow to gladness; and he rejoiced, he\nexulted, and said: \"Whence comes such grace to me, that the sweetness of\nmy soul will await me at the holy place of justice?\" See, that he had come\nto so much light that he called the place of justice holy! And he said: \"I\nshall go wholly joyous, and strong, and it will seem to me a thousand\nyears before I arrive, thinking that you are awaiting me there.\" And he\nsaid words so sweet as to break one's heart, of the goodness of God.\n\nI waited for him then at the place of justice; and waited there with\nconstant prayer, in the presence of Mary and of Catherine, Virgin and\nmartyr. But before I attained, I prostrated me, and stretched my neck upon\nthe block; but my desire did not come there, for I had too full\nconsciousness of myself. Then up! I prayed, I constrained her, I cried\n\"Mary!\" for I wished this grace, that at the moment of death she should\ngive him a light and a peace in his heart, and then I should see him reach\nhis goal. Then my soul became so full that although a multitude of people\nwere there, I could see no human creature, for the sweet promise made to\nme.\n\nThen he came, like a gentle lamb; and seeing me, he began to smile, and\nwanted me to make the sign of the Cross. When he had received the sign, I\nsaid: \"Down! To the Bridal, sweetest my brother! For soon shalt thou be in\nthe enduring life.\" He prostrated him with great gentleness, and I\nstretched out his neck; and bowed me down, and recalled to him the Blood\nof the Lamb. His lips said naught save Jesus! and, Catherine! And so\nsaying, I received his head in my hands, closing my eyes in the Divine\nGoodness, and saying, \"I will!\"\n\nThen was seen God-and-Man, as might the clearness of the sun be seen. And\nHe stood wounded, and received the blood; in that blood a fire of holy\ndesire, given and hidden in the soul by grace. He received it in the fire\nof His divine charity. When He had received his blood and his desire, He\nalso received his soul, which He put into the open treasure-house of His\nSide, full of mercy; the primal Truth showing that by grace and mercy\nalone He received it, and not for any other work. Oh, how sweet and\nunspeakable it was to see the goodness of God! with what sweetness and\nlove He awaited that soul departed from the body! He turned the eye of\nmercy toward her, when she came to enter within His Side, bathed in blood\nwhich availed through the Blood of the Son of God. Thus received by God\nthrough power--powerful is He to do! the Son also, Wisdom the Word\nIncarnate, gave him and made him share the crucified love with which He\nreceived painful and shameful death through the obedience which he showed\nto the Father, for the good of the human race. And the hands of the Holy\nSpirit locked him within.\n\nBut he made a gesture sweet enough to draw a thousand hearts. And I do not\nwonder, for already he tasted the divine sweetness. He turned as does the\nBride when she has reached the threshold of her bridegroom, who turns back\nher head and her look, bowing to those who have accompanied her, and with\nthe gesture she gives signs of thanks.\n\nWhen he was at rest, my soul rested in peace and in quiet, in so great\nfragrance of blood that I could not bear to remove the blood which had\nfallen on me from him.\n\nAh me, miserable! I will say no more. I stayed on the earth with the\ngreatest envy. And it seems to me that the first new stone is already in\nplace. Therefore do not wonder if I impose upon you nothing save to see\nyourselves drowned in the blood and flame poured from the side of the Son\nof God. Now then, no more negligence, sweetest my sons, since the blood is\nbeginning to flow, and to receive the life. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO GREGORY XI\n\n\nThis is the first letter to Gregory which has come down to us; it may or\nmay not have been the first which Catherine wrote him. That she had had\nrelations with him earlier seems fairly certain. As early as 1372 we find\nher writing to Gerard du Puy, a relative of the Pope and Papal Legate in\nTuscany. This letter is evidently a reply, and contains passages which she\napparently expected du Puy to share with Gregory. Perhaps Gregory had made\napproaches to her through his cousin. There was nothing unlikely at that\ntime in such action on the part of a great churchman, who, man of the\nworld though he was, retained a sincere reverence for humble men and\nwomen.\n\nBe this as it may, Catherine in her letter to Gerard du Puy writes\nconcerning the condition of the Church in the strain of indignant sorrow\nwhich she was to hold till her death: \"In reply to the first of the three\nthings you ask me, I will say that I believe that our sweet Christ on\nearth should do away entirely with two things which ravage the Bride of\nChrist. The first is the over-great tenderness and care for relatives,\nwhich ought to be entirely mortified. The other is that over-great good\nnature which is founded on too great mercy.... Christ holds three vices as\nespecially evil--impurity, avarice, and swollen pride, which reign in the\nBride of Christ among the prelates, who care for nothing but luxuries and\nhonours and vast riches. A strong justice is needed to correct them, for\ntoo great pity is the greatest cruelty. As to the other question, I say:\nWhen I told you that you should toil for Holy Church, I was not thinking\nonly of the labours you should assume about temporal things, but chiefly\nthat you and the Holy Father ought to toil and do what you can to get rid\nof the wolfish shepherds who care for nothing but eating and fine palaces\nand big horses. Oh me, that which Christ won upon the wood of the Cross is\nspent with harlots! I beg that if you were to die for it, you tell the\nHoly Father to put an end to such iniquities. And when the time comes to\nmake priests or cardinals, let them not be chosen through flatteries or\nmoneys or simony; but beg him, as far as you can, that he notice well if\nvirtue and a good and holy fame are found in the man; and let him not\nprefer a gentleman to a tradesman, for virtue is the thing that makes a\nman gentle.\" Savonarola could hardly say more.\n\nThis present letter must date from 1375, for the rebellion of the Tuscan\ncities was gathering when she wrote. It is evident that Catherine at the\ntime had never met the Pope personally. She must, however, have gained\nfrom hearsay a fairly just idea of his character; in the letter--one of\nthe most carefully composed which we have from her--we see her approaching\nhim with frankness, dignity, and courage, and also with a rare degree of\ntact. It was one thing to speak her mind out through Gerard du Puy: it\nmust have been another to speak directly to the Head of Christendom. How\nCatherine acquits herself the reader may judge. The hint that the \"sweet\nChrist on earth,\" the father of the faithful, lacks self-knowledge, is\nmade so delicately that offence could not be taken; yet as she proceeds\nthe indirect suggestion becomes unmistakable. Gregory is that weak prelate\nin whom through self-indulgence holy justice is dead or dying; the smooth,\npeaceable man, who to avoid incurring displeasure, shuts his eyes to the\ncorruption of the Church and the sins of her priests; he is the indolent\nphysician who anoints when he should cauterize. As soon as she deems his\nmind prepared, comes the direct statement: \"I hope by the goodness of God,\nvenerable father mine, that you will quench this [self-love] in yourself,\nand will not love yourself for your own sake, nor your neighbour, nor\nGod.\" Nor does she shrink from more specific mention of the dangers which\nbeset him, in his devotion to the interests of \"friends and parents,\" and\nconsiderations of temporal policy.\n\nIt is with relief, here as ever, that Catherine passes from criticism\nimplied or explicit to a strain of high enthusiasm by which she tries to\nrouse the soul to all of latent manhood it may possess. She heartens\nGregory with stirring appeal to the memories of his great predecessors--\nyet more with impassioned reminder of that mystery of divine love and\nsacrifice from which their strength was drawn. All that was possible to\nthem is possible to him, \"for the same God is now that was then.\" \"And if\nup to this time we have not stood very firm,\" she says--associating\nherself, as usual, with the weakness she would condemn--\"I wish and pray\nin truth that you deal manfully with the moment of time which remains,\nfollowing Christ, whose vicar you are.\" Gentle encouragement, and a\ncurious tone of almost maternal tenderness, pervade the rest of the\nletter. In dealing with the political situation which Gregory confronted,\nCatherine speaks without reserve. The suggestions concerning practical\nmatters with which the letter closes are lucid and to the point.\nAltogether, it is a masterly document which the daughter of Jacopo\nBenincasa despatches to the Head of Christendom. Reading it, one finds no\ndifficulty in understanding the influence which, as the sequel shows, she\nestablished over the sensitive and religious if weak spirit of Gregory XI.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nTo you, most reverend and beloved father in Christ Jesus, your unworthy,\npoor, miserable daughter Catherine, servant and slave of the servants of\nJesus Christ, writes in His precious Blood; with desire to see you a\nfruitful tree, full of sweet and mellow fruits, and planted in fruitful\nearth--for if it were out of the earth the tree would dry up and bear no\nfruit--that is, in the earth of true knowledge of yourself. For the soul\nthat knows itself humbles itself, because it sees nothing to be proud of;\nand ripens the sweet fruit of very ardent charity, recognizing in itself\nthe unmeasured goodness of God; and aware that it is not, it attributes\nall its being to Him who Is. Whence, then, it seems that the soul is\nconstrained to love what God loves and to hate what He hates.\n\nOh, sweet and true knowledge, which dost carry with thee the knife of\nhate, and dost stretch out the hand of holy desire, to draw forth and kill\nwith this hate the worm of self-love--a worm that spoils and gnaws the\nroot of our tree so that it cannot bear any fruit of life, but dries up,\nand its verdure lasts not! For if a man loves himself, perverse pride,\nhead and source of every ill, lives in him, whatever his rank may be,\nprelate or subject. If he is lover of himself alone--that is, if he loves\nhimself for his own sake and not for God--he cannot do other than ill, and\nall virtue is dead in him. Such a one is like a woman who brings forth her\nsons dead. And so it really is; for he has not had the life of charity in\nhimself, and has cared only for praise and self-glory, and not for the\nname of God. I say, then: if he is a prelate, he does ill, because to\navoid falling into disfavour with his fellow-creatures--that is, through\nself-love--in which he is bound by self-indulgence--holy justice dies in\nhim. For he sees his subjects commit faults and sins, and pretends not to\nsee them and fails to correct them; or if he does correct them, he does it\nwith such coldness and lukewarmness that he does not accomplish anything,\nbut plasters vice over; and he is always afraid of giving displeasure or\nof getting into a quarrel. All this is because he loves himself. Sometimes\nmen like this want to get along with purely peaceful means. I say that\nthis is the very worst cruelty which can be shown. If a wound when\nnecessary is not cauterized or cut out with steel, but simply covered with\nointment, not only does it fail to heal, but it infects everything, and\nmany a time death follows from it.\n\nOh me, oh me, sweetest \"Babbo\" mine! This is the reason that all the\nsubjects are corrupted by impurity and iniquity. Oh me, weeping I say it!\nHow dangerous is that worm we spoke of! For not only does it give death to\nthe shepherd, but all the rest fall into sickness and death through it.\nWhy does that shepherd go on using so much ointment? Because he does not\nsuffer in consequence! For no displeasure visits one and no ill will, from\nspreading ointment over the sick; since one does nothing contrary to their\nwill; they wanted ointment, and so ointment is given them. Oh, human\nwretchedness! Blind is the sick man who does not know his own need, and\nblind the shepherd-physician, who has regard to nothing but pleasing, and\nhis own advantage--since, not to forfeit it, he refrains from using the\nknife of justice or the fire of ardent charity! But such men do as Christ\nsays: for if one blind man guide the other, both fall into the ditch. Sick\nman and physician fall into hell. Such a man is a right hireling shepherd,\nfor, far from dragging his sheep from the hands of the wolf, he devours\nthem himself. The cause of all this is, that he loves himself apart from\nGod: so he does not follow sweet Jesus, the true Shepherd, who has given\nHis life for His sheep. Truly, then, this perverse love is perilous for\none's self and for others, and truly to be shunned, since it works too\nmuch harm to every generation of people. I hope by the goodness of God,\nvenerable father mine, that you will quench this in yourself, and will not\nlove yourself for yourself, nor your neighbour for yourself, nor God; but\nwill love Him because He is highest and eternal Goodness, and worthy of\nbeing loved; and yourself and your neighbour you will love to the honour\nand glory of the sweet Name of Jesus. I will, then, that you be so true\nand good a shepherd that if you had a hundred thousand lives you would be\nready to give them all for the honour of God and the salvation of His\ncreatures. O \"Babbo\" mine, sweet Christ on earth, follow that sweet\nGregory (the Great)! For all will be possible to you as to him; for he was\nnot of other flesh than you; and that God is now who was then: we lack\nnothing save virtue, and hunger for the salvation of souls. But there is a\nremedy for this, father: that we flee the love spoken of above, for\nourselves and every creature apart from God. Let no more note be given to\nfriends or parents or one's temporal needs, but only to virtue and the\nexaltation of things spiritual. For temporal things are failing you from\nno other cause than from your neglect of the spiritual.\n\nNow, then, do we wish to have that glorious hunger which these holy and\ntrue shepherds of the past have felt, and to quench in ourselves that fire\nof self-love? Let us do as they, who with fire quenched fire; for so great\nwas the fire of inestimable and ardent charity that burned in their hearts\nand souls, that they were an-hungered and famished for the savour of\nsouls. Oh, sweet and glorious fire, which is of such power that it\nquenches fire, and every inordinate delight and pleasure and all love of\nself; and this love is like a drop of water, which is swiftly consumed in\nthe furnace! Should one ask me how men attained that sweet fire and\nhunger--inasmuch as we are surely in ourselves unfruitful trees--I say\nthat those men grafted themselves into the fruitful tree of the most holy\nand sweet Cross, where they found the Lamb, slain with such fire of love\nfor our salvation as seems insatiable. Still He cries that He is athirst,\nas if saying: \"I have greater ardour and desire and thirst for your\nsalvation than I show you with My finished Passion.\" O sweet and good\nJesus! Let pontiffs shame them, and shepherds, and every other creature,\nfor our ignorance and pride and self-indulgence, in the presence of so\ngreat largess and goodness and ineffable love on the part of our Creator!\nHe has revealed Himself to us in our humanity, a Tree full of sweet and\nmellow fruits, in order that we, wild trees, might graft ourselves in Him.\nNow in this wise wrought that enamoured Gregory, and those other good\nshepherds: knowing that they had no virtue in themselves, and gazing upon\nthe Word, our Tree, they grafted themselves in Him, bound and chained by\nthe bands of love. For in that which the eye sees does it delight, when\nthe thing is fair and good. They saw, then, and seeing they so bound them\nthat they saw not themselves, but saw and tasted everything in God. And\nthere was neither wind nor hail nor demons nor creatures that could keep\nthem from bearing cultivated fruits: since they were grafted in the\nsubstance of our Tree, Jesus. They brought forth their fruits, then, from\nthe substance of sweet charity, in which they were united. And there is no\nother way.\n\nThis is what I wish to see in you. And if up to this time, we have not\nstood very firm, I wish and pray in truth that the moment of time which\nremains be dealt with manfully, following Christ, whose vicar you are,\nlike a strong man. And fear not, father, for anything that may result from\nthose tempestuous winds that are now beating against you, those decaying\nmembers which have rebelled against you. Fear not; for divine aid is near.\nHave a care for spiritual things alone, for good shepherds, good rulers,\nin your cities--since on account of bad shepherds and rulers you have\nencountered rebellion. Give us, then, a remedy; and comfort you in Christ\nJesus, and fear not. Press on, and fulfil with true zeal and holy what you\nhave begun with a holy resolve, concerning your return, and the holy and\nsweet crusade. And delay no longer, for many difficulties have occurred\nthrough delay, and the devil has risen up to prevent these things being\ndone, because he perceives his own loss. Up, then, father, and no more\nnegligence! Raise the gonfalon of the most holy Cross, for with the\nfragrance of the Cross you shall win peace. I beg you to summon those who\nhave rebelled against you to a holy peace, so that all warfare may be\nturned against the infidels. I hope by the infinite goodness of God that\nHe will swiftly send His aid. Comfort you, comfort you, and come, come, to\nconsole the poor, the servants of God, your sons! We await you with eager\nand loving desire. Pardon me, father, that I have said so many words to\nyou. You know that through the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.\nI am certain that if you shall be the kind of tree I wish to see you,\nnothing will hinder you.\n\nI beg you to send to Lucca and to Pisa with fatherly proposals, as God\nshall instruct you, supporting them so far as can be, and summoning them\nto remain firm and persevering. I have been at Pisa and at Lucca, up to\nnow, influencing them as much as I can not to make a league with the\ndecaying members that are rebelling against you: but they are in great\nperplexity, because they have no comfort from you, and are constantly\nurged to make it and threatened from the contrary side. However, up to the\npresent time, they have not wholly consented. I beg you also to write\nemphatically to Messer Piero: and do it zealously, and do not delay. I say\nno more.\n\nI have heard here that you have appointed the cardinals. I believe that it\nwould honour God and profit us more if you would take heed always to\nappoint virtuous men. If the contrary is done, it will be a great insult\nto God, and disaster to Holy Church. Let us not wonder later if God sends\nus His disciplines and scourges; for the thing is just. I beg you to do\nwhat you have to do manfully and in the fear of God.\n\nI have heard that you are to promote the Master of our Order to another\nbenefice. Therefore I beg you, by the love of Christ crucified, that if\nthis is so you will take pains to give us a good and virtuous Vicar. The\nOrder has need of it, for it has run altogether too wild. You can talk of\nthis with Messer Niccola da Osimo and the Archbishop of Tronto; and I will\nwrite them about it.\n\nRemain in the sweet and holy grace of God. I ask you humbly for your\nblessing. Pardon my presumption, that I presume to write to you. Sweet\nJesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO GREGORY XI\n\n\nThere is less formality here than in the first letter to Gregory.\nCatherine in writing to the Pope soon felt herself as much at home as a\nchild in her earthly father's house. The little pet name, \"Babbo,\" which\nshe habitually uses to him, could be translated only by \"Daddy\"--which\nwould sound so strange in English ears that it seems best to let the\nItalian stand. There is something touching as well as entertaining in the\nspirit of childlike freedom to which such a term bears witness.\n\nThe Anti-Papal League has become a grim reality. The un-Christian pomp and\narrogance of ruling prelates, the mean cruelty of William of Noellet in\nrefusing to allow corn to be imported from the Papal States in Tuscany in\ntime of famine, the harshness and lack of tact in the policy of Gregory\ntoward his unsatisfactory children, were all forces potent to destroy\namong the rebels any strong sense of committing a religious crime in their\nopposition to the Church. Catherine stands as mediator between the two\nparties. Not for a moment condoning the sin of a rebellion heinous indeed\nin her eyes, she yet does not allow the Pope to forget that the chief\ncause of the trouble has been the unjust and iniquitous things which the\nFlorentines have endured from the Legates--men \"whom you know yourself\"--\nso she writes with vigorous plebeian candour--\"whom you know yourself to\nbe incarnate demons\"! Let God's vicegerent, then, show forth the love of\nGod, and find in the divine attitude toward rebellious man an example for\nhis own attitude toward his rebellious cities. Conciliation is to her mind\nthe only wisdom. There is practical sagacity in her remark in another\nletter: \"On with benignity, father! For know that every rational creature\nis more easily conquered by love and benignity than by anything else: and\nespecially these Italians of ours in these parts. I do not see any other\nway in which you can conquer them, but if you do this you can do anything\nyou like with them.\"\n\nThe beautiful opening meditation on the Love of God as shown in creation\nand redemption is then no mere general exordium, but in close dramatic\nunity with the sequel of the letter. The Augustinian theology, however\nalien to our modern modes of thought, has, as she puts it, a nobility not\nto be ignored. As presented briefly here, and more grandly by Dante in the\nseventh canto of the _Paradiso_, it represents the supreme effort of the\nlaw-reverencing mind of the Latin Church to formulate the methods of\nInfinite Love. In the curious figure of the Tournament, we have a\ncharacteristic play of mediaeval fancy. As Langland puts it, a little\ndifferently:\n\n  \"Then was Faith in a fenestre, and cryed: Ah! Fili David!\n  As doth an heraude of armes when adventrous cometh to jousts.\n  Olde Jewes of Jerusalem for joy they sungen,\n    Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini.\n  Then I frayn\u00e8d at Faith what all that fare meant,\n  And who should joust in Jerusalem: 'Jesus,' he said,\n  'And fetch that the fiend claimeth: Piers' fruit the Plowman.'\n  'Is Piers in this place?' quoth I: and he winked at me,--\n  'This Jesus of His gentrice will joust in Piers' armes,\n  In his helme and in his habergeon, humana natura.'\"\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nMost holy and most reverend my father in Christ Jesus: I Catherine your\npoor unworthy daughter, servant and slave of the servants of Christ, write\nto you in His precious Blood; with desire to see you a good shepherd. For\nI reflect, sweet my \"Babbo,\" that the wolf is carrying away your sheep,\nand there is no one found to help them. So I hasten to you, our father and\nour shepherd, begging you on behalf of Christ crucified to learn from Him,\nwho with such fire of love gave Himself to the shameful death of the most\nholy Cross, to rescue that lost sheep, the human race, from the hands of\nthe demons; because, through man's rebellion against God, they were\nholding it for their own possession.\n\nThen comes the Infinite Goodness of God, and sees the evil state and the\nloss and the ruin of these sheep, and sees that they cannot be won back by\nwrath or war. So, notwithstanding that it has been wronged by them--since\nman deserved an infinite penalty for his disobedient rebellion against\nGod--Highest and Eternal Wisdom will not do thus; but finds an attractive\nway, the most gentle and loving possible to find. For it sees that the\nheart of man is in no wise so drawn as by love, because he was made by\nlove. This seems to be the reason why he loves so much, that he was made\nby nothing but love, both his soul and his body. For by love God created\nhim in His Image and Likeness, and by love his father and mother gave him\nsubstance, conceiving and bearing a son. God, therefore, seeing that man\nis so ready to love, throws the book of love straight at him, giving him\nthe Word His Only-Begotten Son, who takes our humanity, to make a great\npeace. But justice wills that vengeance should be wrought for the wrong\nthat has been done to God: so comes Divine Mercy and unspeakable Charity,\nand to satisfy justice and mercy condemns His Son to death, having clothed\nHim in our humanity--that is, with the clay of Adam, who sinned. So by His\ndeath the wrath of the Father is pacified, having wrought justice on the\nperson of His son: so He has satisfied justice and has satisfied mercy,\nreleasing the human race from the hands of demons. This sweet Word jousted\nin His arms upon the wood of the most holy Cross, death making a\ntournament with life, and life with death: so that by His death He\ndestroyed our death, and to give us life He sacrificed the life of His\nbody. So then with love He has drawn us, and has conquered our malice with\nHis benignness, in so much that every heart should be drawn to Him: since\ngreater love one cannot show--and this He Himself said--than to give one's\nlife for one's friend. And if He commends the love which gives one's life\nfor a friend, what, then, shall we say of that most burning and complete\nlove which gave its life for its foe? For we through sin had been made\nfoes of God. Oh, sweet and amorous Word, who with love hast found thy\nflock once more, and with love hast given Thy life for them, and hast\nbrought them back into the fold, restoring to them the Grace which they\nhad lost!\n\nHoliest sweet \"Babbo\" mine, I see no other way for us, and no other help\nin winning back your sheep, which have left the fold of Holy Church in\nrebellion, not obedient nor subject to you, their father. I pray you\ntherefore, on behalf of Christ crucified, and I will that you do me this\ngrace, to overcome their malice with your benignity. Yours we are, father!\nI know and recognize that they all feel that they have done wrong; but\nalthough they have no excuse for their evil deeds, nevertheless it seemed\nto them that they could not do otherwise on account of the many sufferings\nand unjust and iniquitous things that they endured from bad shepherds and\ngovernors. For, breathing the stench of the life of many rulers whom you\nknow yourself to be incarnate demons, they fell into the worst of fears,\nso that they did like Pilate, who, not to lose the government, killed\nChrist; so did they, for not to lose the state, they persecuted you. I ask\nyou, then, father, to show them mercy. Do not have regard to the ignorance\nand pride of your sons; but with the food of love and of your benignity,\ninflicting such sweet discipline and benign reproof as shall please your\nHoliness, restore peace to us miserable children who have done wrong. I\ntell you, sweet Christ on earth, on behalf of Christ in Heaven, that if\nyou do thus, without any strife or tempest, they will all come, grieving\nfor the wrong they have done, and will put their heads in your bosom. Then\nyou will rejoice, and we shall rejoice, because by love you have restored\nthe wandering sheep to the fold of Holy Church. And then, sweet my\n\"Babbo,\" you will fulfil your holy desire and the will of God, by making\nthe holy Crusade, which I summon you in His Name to do swiftly and without\nnegligence. They will turn to it with great eagerness; they are ready to\ngive their life for Christ. Ah me, God, sweet Love! Raise swiftly,\n\"Babbo,\" the gonfalon of the most holy Cross, and you will see the wolves\nbecome lambs. Peace, peace, peace, that war may not delay this happy time!\nBut if you will wreak vengeance and justice, take them upon me, poor\nwretch, and give me any pain and torment that may please you, even to\ndeath. I believe that through the stench of my iniquities many evils have\nhappened, and many misfortunes and discords. On me, then, your poor\ndaughter, take any vengeance that you will. Ah me, father, I die of grief\nand cannot die! Come, come, and resist no more the will of God that calls\nyou; and the hungry sheep await your coming to hold and possess the place\nof your predecessor and champion, Apostle Peter. For you, as the Vicar of\nChrist, should rest in your own place. Come, then, come, and delay no\nmore; and comfort you, and fear not for anything that might happen, since\nGod will be with you. I ask humbly your benediction, for me and for all my\nsons; and I beg you to pardon my presumption. I say no more. Remain in the\nholy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO GREGORY XI\n\n\n  \"Ahi, Constantin, di quanto mal fu matre,\n  Non la tua conversion, ma quella dote\n  Che da te prese il primo ricco patre!\"\n\n\"For ever since Holy Church has aimed more at temporal than at spiritual\nthings, matters have gone from bad to worse.\" Catherine's sorrowful\ndenunciations of the sins of the Church recall the thought of Dante, the\nthought of Petrarch--which is also the thought of all the great saints,\nseers, and loyal Catholics, to whom through the Christian ages the\nshortcoming of their spiritual mother has meant grief beyond words. The\nlovely conception of Holy Church as a garden, borrowed though it be from\nHoly Writ, she has made peculiarly her own by constant repetition. We\nrecognize in it the womanly imagination which, we are told, always found\nrefreshment in wreathing fragrant flowers and walking abroad through the\nfields and woods.\n\nCatherine in this letter presents explicitly her threefold policy: reform\nof the Church, return to Rome, the initiation of a Crusade. In her little\nletter to Sir John Hawkwood, we have already seen her devotion to this\nlast cause. A Crusade in the fourteenth century was not to be.\nNevertheless, Catherine never showed more political wisdom than in this\nmatter, and it was the one aim of her life in which she wholly failed. We\nhave in the Legenda Minore a racy account of a personal interview with\nGregory on the subject, in which she presented cogent considerations to\nhim. She shrewdly suggested that the mercenary troops who ravaged Italy,\nand were \"the very cause and nourishment of war,\" would gladly turn their\narms against the infidel, \"For there are few people so wicked that they\nare not willing to serve God by indulging their taste: all men would\ngladly expiate their sins by doing what they enjoy.\" Behind all such\nconsiderations of policy, however, lay, as we clearly see, the intense\ndesire that the infidels should be saved. And not for their own sake only.\nDesperate and desolate as she beheld the worldliness of Christian folk,\nand their remoteness from the faith and ardour of an earlier time,\nCatherine ventured to dream that new converts, won from the peoples that\nsat in darkness, might revive the spiritual life of Christendom by the\ninfusion of spiritual passion strong in young purity. \"Oh, what joy it\nwould be,\" she wrote to Gregory, \"could we see the Christian people\nconvert the Infidel! For when they had once received the Light, they might\nreach great perfection, like a young plant which has escaped the wintry\ncold of faithlessness, and expands in the warmth and light of the Holy\nSpirit; so they might bear flowers and fruits of virtue in the mystical\nbody of Holy Church; so that the fragrance of their virtue might help us\nto drive away the sins and vice, the pride and impurity, which abound to-\nday among the Christian people, and above all among those high in Holy\nChurch.\"\n\nIt was a strange dream, and hopeless; but it was the dream of a saint.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nMost holy and dear and sweet father in Christ sweet Jesus: I your unworthy\ndaughter Catherine, servant and slave of the servants of Jesus Christ,\nwrite to you in His precious Blood. With desire have I desired to see in\nyou the fulness of divine grace, in such wise that you may be the means,\nthrough divine grace, of pacifying all the universal world. Therefore, I\nbeg you, sweet my father, to use the instrument of your power and virtue,\nwith zeal, and hungry desire for the peace and honour of God and the\nsalvation of souls. And should you say to me, father--\"The world is so\nravaged! How shall I attain peace?\" I tell you, on behalf of Christ\ncrucified, it befits you to achieve three chief things through your power.\nDo you uproot in the garden of Holy Church the malodorous flowers, full of\nimpurity and avarice, swollen with pride: that is, the bad priests and\nrulers who poison and rot that garden. Ah me, you our Governor, do you use\nyour power to pluck out those flowers! Throw them away, that they may have\nno rule! Insist that they study to rule themselves in holy and good life.\nPlant in this garden fragrant flowers, priests and rulers who are true\nservants of Jesus Christ, and care for nothing but the honour of God and\nthe salvation of souls, and are fathers of the poor. Alas, what confusion\nis this, to see those who ought to be a mirror of voluntary poverty, meek\nas lambs, distributing the possessions of Holy Church to the poor: and\nthey appear in such luxury and state and pomp and worldly vanity, more\nthan if they had turned them to the world a thousand times! Nay, many\nseculars put them to shame who live a good and holy life. But it seems\nthat Highest and Eternal Goodness is having that done by force which is\nnot done by love; it seems that He is permitting dignities and luxuries to\nbe taken away from His Bride, as if He would show that Holy Church should\nreturn to her first condition, poor, humble, and meek as she was in that\nholy time when men took note of nothing but the honour of God and the\nsalvation of souls, caring for spiritual things and not for temporal. For\never since she has aimed more at temporal than at spiritual, things have\ngone from bad to worse. See therefore that God, in judgment, has allowed\nmuch persecution and tribulation to befall her. But comfort you, father,\nand fear not for anything that could happen, which God does to make her\nstate perfect once more, in order that lambs may feed in that garden, and\nnot wolves who devour the honour that should belong to God, which they\nsteal and give to themselves. Comfort you in Christ sweet Jesus; for I\nhope that His aid will be near you, plenitude of divine grace, aid and\nsupport divine in the way that I said before. Out of war you will attain\ngreatest peace; out of persecution, greatest unity; not by human power,\nbut by holy virtue, you will discomfit those visible demons, wicked men,\nand those invisible demons who never sleep around us.\n\nBut reflect, sweet father, that you could not do this easily unless you\naccomplished the other two things which precede the completion of the\nother: that is, your return to Rome and uplifting of the standard of the\nmost holy Cross. Let not your holy desire fail on account of any scandal\nor rebellion of cities which you might see or hear; nay, let the flame of\nholy desire be more kindled to wish to do swiftly. Do not delay, then,\nyour coming. Do not believe the devil, who perceives his own loss, and so\nexerts himself to rob you of your possessions in order that you may lose\nyour love and charity and our coming be hindered. I tell you, father in\nChrist Jesus, come swiftly like a gentle lamb. Respond to the Holy Spirit\nwho calls you. I tell you, Come, come, come, and do not wait for time,\nsince time does not wait for you. Then you will do like the Lamb Slain\nwhose place you hold, who without weapons in His hand slew our foes,\ncoming in gentleness, using only the weapons of the strength of love,\naiming only at care of spiritual things, and restoring grace to man who\nhad lost it through sin.\n\nAlas, sweet my father, with this sweet hand I pray you, and tell you to\ncome to discomfit our enemies. On behalf of Christ crucified I tell it\nyou: refuse to believe the counsels of the devil, who would hinder your\nholy and good resolution. Be manly in my sight, and not timorous. Answer\nGod, who calls you to hold and possess the seat of the glorious Shepherd\nSt. Peter, whose vicar you have been. And raise the standard of the holy\nCross; for as we were freed by the Cross--so Paul says--thus raising this\nstandard, which seems to me the refreshment of Christians, we shall be\nfreed--we from our wars and divisions and many sins, the infidel people\nfrom their infidelity. In this way you will come and attain the\nreformation, giving good priests to Holy Church. Fill her heart with the\nardent love that she has lost; for she has been so drained of blood by the\niniquitous men who have devoured her that she is wholly wan. But comfort\nyou, and come, father, and no longer make to wait the servants of God, who\nafflict themselves in desire. And I, poor, miserable woman, can wait no\nmore; living, I seem to die in my pain, seeing God thus reviled. Do not,\nthen, hold off from peace because of the circumstance which has occurred\nat Bologna, but come; for I tell you that the fierce wolves will put their\nheads in your bosom like gentle lambs, and will ask mercy from you,\nfather. I say no more. I beg you, father, to hear and hark that which Fra\nRaimondo will say to you, and the other sons with him, who come in the\nName of Christ crucified and of me; for they are true servants of God and\nsons of Holy Church. Pardon, father, my ignorance, and may the love and\ngrief which make me speak excuse me to your benignity. Give me your\nbenediction. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus\nLove.\n\n\n\n\nTO BROTHER RAIMONDO OF CAPUA\nAT AVIGNON\n\n\nThe last letter tells us that Catherine had sent to the Pope her beloved\nConfessor, who was later to become her biographer--Fra Raimondo of Capua.\nIt is evident that the simple Italian priest and his companions have\nbecome somewhat daunted by the conditions they have encountered at\nAvignon; and, indeed, the subtlest temptations and most perplexing\nproblems that Europe could furnish were doubtless focussed at the Papal\nCourt. Just what the difficulties were which Raimondo had confided to\nCatherine and which called forth this spirited answer, we do not know, but\nwe can easily imagine their nature. A holy man of considerable learning,\nFra Raimondo was also of mild disposition, much inclined to sigh over\ndangers and blench before exposure. Catherine, on more than one occasion,\nshowed herself the better man of the two. There was a militant strain in\nher bright nature; she was really the \"Happy Warrior\"--\n\n  \"Whose powers shed round him in the common strife\n  Or mild concerns of ordinary life\n  A constant influence, a peculiar grace;\n  But who if he be called upon to face\n  Some awful moment to which Heaven has joined\n  Great issues, good or bad for human kind,\n  Is happy as a Lover; and attired\n  With sudden brightness, like a man inspired;\n  And, through the heat of conflict, keeps the law\n  In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw.\"\n\nSo, in this letter, we find the daughter encouraging the father, with\nreflections much in the temper of Browning:\n\n        \"Was the trial sore,\n  Temptation sharp? Thank God a second time!\n  Why come temptations but for man to meet,\n  And master, and make crouch beneath his feet,\n  And so be pedestalled in triumph!\"\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nReverend father in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of\nthe servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood: with\ndesire to see you and the other sons clothed in the wedding garment that\ncovers all our nakedness. That is a protection which does not let the\nblows of our adversary the devil pierce our flesh with mortal wound, but\nmakes us rather strengthened than weakened by every blow of temptation or\nmolesting of devils or fellow-creatures or our own flesh, rebellious to\nthe spirit. I say that these blows not only do not hurt us, but they shall\nbe precious stones and pearls placed on this garment of most burning\ncharity.\n\nNow suppose there should be a soul that did not have to endure many\nlabours and temptations, from whatever direction and in whatever wise God\nmay grant them. No virtue would be tested in it; for virtue is tested by\nits opposite. How is purity tested and won? Through the contrary--that is,\nthrough the vexations of uncleanliness. For were a man unclean already,\nthere would be no need for him to be molested by unclean reflections, but\nbecause it is evident that his will is free from all depraved consenting,\nand purified from every spot by his holy and true desire to serve his\nCreator, therefore the devil, the world, and the flesh molest him. Yes,\neverything is driven out by its opposite. See how humility is won through\npride. When a man sees himself molested by that vice of pride, at once he\nhumbles himself, recognizing himself to be faulty--proud: while had he not\nbeen so molested he would not have known himself so well. When he has\nhumbled and seen himself, he conceives hatred in such wise that he joys\nand exults in every pain and injury that he bears. Such a one is like a\nmanful knight, who does not avoid blows. Nay, he holds him unworthy of so\ngreat grace, as it seems to him to be, to bear pain, temptations and\nvexations for Christ crucified. All is through the hate he has for\nhimself, and the love he has conceived for virtue.\n\nSo you see that we are not to flee nor to grieve in the time of darkness,\nsince from the darkness light is born. O God, sweet Love, what sweet\ndoctrine Thou givest, that through the contrary of virtue, virtue is won!\nOut of impatience is won patience; for the soul that feels the vice of\nimpatience becomes patient over the injury received, and is impatient\ntoward the vice of impatience, and is more hurt because it is hurt than\nover anything else. And so out of the very contrary its perfection comes\nto be won. It is not aware of this; it finds itself become perfect in many\nstorms and temptations. In no other wise does one ever arrive at the\nharbour of perfection.\n\nYea, meditate on this: that the soul can never receive nor desire virtue,\nunless it has cravings, vexations and temptations to endure with true and\nholy patience for the love of Christ crucified. We ought, then, to joy and\nexult in the time of conflicts, vexations and shadows, since from them\nproceeds such virtue and delight. Oh me, my son given me by Mary that\nsweet mother, I do not want you to fall into weariness or confusion\nthrough any vexations that you might feel in your mind; but I want you to\nkeep that good and holy and true faithful will which I know that God in\nHis mercy has given you. I know that you would rather die than offend Him\nmortally. Yes, I want that out of the shadows should issue knowledge of\nyourself, free from confusion; out of your goodwill should issue knowledge\nof the infinite goodness and unspeakable charity of God; and in this\nknowledge may our soul abide and fatten. Reflect that through love He\nkeeps your will good, and does not let it run by its own consent or\npleasure after the suggestions of the devil. And so, through love, He has\npermitted to you and me and His other servants, the many vexations and\ndeceits of the devil and fellow-creatures and our own flesh, solely in\norder that we might rise from negligence, and reach perfect zeal, true\nhumility and most ardent charity: humility which comes from knowledge of\nself, and charity which comes from knowledge of the goodness of God. There\nis the soul inspired and consumed by love.\n\nJoy, father, and exult; and comfort you, without any servile fear, and\nfear not, for any thing that you should see happen. But comfort you: for\nperfection is near you. And answer the devil saying: \"That power against\nyou did not work through me, since it was not in me; it works through\ngrace of the infinite pity and mercy of God.\" Yes, through Christ\ncrucified you shall be able to do all things. Carry on all your works with\nliving faith; and do not wonder should you see some contrary circumstance\npresent itself which seemed to oppose your work. Comfort you, comfort you,\nbecause the Sweet Primal Truth has promised to fulfil your and my desire\nfor you. Slay yourself through your burning desire, with the Lamb that was\nslain; rest you upon the Cross with Christ crucified. Rejoice in Christ\ncrucified; rejoice in pains; steep yourself in shames for Christ\ncrucified; graft your heart and your affection into the tree of the most\nholy Cross with Christ crucified, and make in His wounds your habitation.\nAnd pardon me, cause and instrument that I am of your every pain and\nimperfection; for were I an instrument of virtue, you and others would\nbreathe the fragrance of virtue. And I do not say these words because I\nwant you to suffer, for your suffering would be mine; but that you may\nhave compassion, you and the other sons, upon my miseries. I hope and\nfirmly hold, through the grace of the Holy Spirit, that He will put limit\nand end to all those things that are apart from the will of God.\n\nReflect that I, poor miserable woman, abide in the body, and find me\nthrough desire continually away from the body. Oh me, sweet and good\nJesus! I die and cannot die, my heart breaks and cannot break, from the\ndesire that I have of the renewal of Holy Church, for the honour of God\nand the salvation of every creature; and to see you and the others arrayed\nin purity, burned and consumed in His most ardent charity!\n\nTell Christ on earth not to make me wait longer; and when I shall see him,\nI shall sing with Simeon, that sweet old man: \"Nunc dimittis servum tuum,\nDomine, secundum verbum tuum, in pace.\" I say no more; for did I follow my\nwish, I should begin again at once. Make me see and feel you bound and\nfastened into Christ sweet Jesus, in such wise that nor demon nor creature\ncan ever separate you from so sweet a bond. Love, love, love one another.\nRemain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO CATARINA OF THE HOSPITAL AND GIOVANNA DI CAPO\n\n\nFrom the comparative quiet of her home Catherine looks off to far\nhorizons, surveying the religious and political world. She can encourage\nFra Raimondo, yet the sword has pierced her heart. This letter is full of\nsickening recognition of evils that hold grave prevision of worse\ndisaster. Even now we see clearly formed in Catherine's mind that strange\nsense of responsibility for the sins of her time, so illogical to the\nnatural, so inevitable to the spiritual vision. \"I believe that I am the\nwretched woman who is the cause of so great evils!\" Thus she cries, not in\nrhetorical figure of speech, but in deep conviction. It is a conviction\ndestined to grow more intense till it leads direct to her spiritual\nmartyrdom.\n\nOut of her pain she turns to the simple women, her daughters and\ncompanions in faith, calling on them to join her in the life of\nintercession and expiation. Then her thought fastens on one little lamb of\nthe flock--one who had strayed and been rescued, and was in danger of\nstraying again; and in care for this one soul needing shelter and strength\nshe finds comfort. Catherine's sense of proportion is that of the\nspiritual man so finely presented by Browning in the person of Lazarus.\nLet Andrea be saved, and the corruption of the Church will seem less\npainful! She can say as her last word, \"Sweet daughters, now is the time\nfor toils, which must be our consolations in Christ crucified.\"\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest daughters in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of\nthe servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood, with\ndesire to see you established in true patience and deep humility, so that\nyou may follow the sweet and Spotless Lamb, for you could not follow Him\nin other wise. Now is the time, my daughters, to show if we have virtue,\nand if you are daughters or not. It behoves you to bear with patience the\npersecutions and detractions, slanders and criticisms of your fellow-\ncreatures, with true humility, and not with annoyance or impatience; nor\nmust you lift up your head in pride against any person whatever. Know well\nthat this is the teaching which has been given us, that it behoves us to\nreceive on the Cross the food of the honour of God and the salvation of\nsouls, with holy and true patience. Ah me, sweetest daughters, I summon\nyou on behalf of the Sweet Primal Truth to awaken from the sleep of\nnegligence and selfish love of yourselves, and to offer humble and\ncontinual prayers, with many vigils, and with knowledge of yourselves,\nbecause the world is perishing through the crowding multitude of\niniquities, and the irreverence shown to the sweet Bride of Christ. Well,\nthen, let us give honour to God, and our toils to our neighbour. Ah, me,\ndo not be willing, you or the other servants of God, that our life should\nend otherwise than in mourning and in sighs, for by no other means can be\nappeased the wrath of God, which is evidently falling upon us.\n\nAh, me, misfortunate! My daughters, I believe that I am the wretched woman\nwho is the cause of so many evils, on account of the great ingratitude and\nother faults which I have committed toward my Creator. Ah, me! ah, me! Who\nis God, who is wronged by His creatures? He is Highest and eternal\nGoodness, who in His love created man in His image and likeness, and re-\ncreated him by grace, after his sin, in the Blood of the immaculate and\nenamoured Lamb, His Only-Begotten Son. And who is mercenary and ignorant\nman, who wrongs his Creator? We are those who are not ourselves by\nourselves, save in so far as we are made by God, but by ourselves we are\nfull of every wretchedness. It seems as if people sought nothing except in\nwhat way they could wrong God and their fellow-creatures, in contempt of\nthe Creator. We see with our wretched eyes that Blood which has given us\nlife persecuted in the holy Church of God. Then let our hearts break in\ntorment and grieving desire; let life stay in our body no more, but let us\nrather die than behold God so reviled. I die in life, and demand death\nfrom my Creator and cannot have it. Better were it for me to die than to\nlive, instead of beholding such disaster as has befallen and is to befall\nthe Christian people.\n\nLet us draw the weapons of holy prayer, for other help I see not. That\ntime of persecution has come upon the servants of God when they must hide\nin the caves of knowledge of themselves and of God, craving His mercy\nthrough the merits of the Blood of His Son. I will say no more, for if I\ndid according to my choice, my daughters, I should never rest until God\nremoved me from this life.\n\nTo thee now I say, Andrea, that he who begins only never receives the\ncrown of glory, but he who perseveres till death. O daughter mine, thou\nhast begun to put thy hand to the plough of virtue, leaving the parbreak\nof mortal sin; it behoves thee, then, to persevere, to receive the reward\nof thy labour, which thy soul endures, choosing to bridle its youth, that\nit may not run to be a member of the devil. Ah me, my daughter! And hast\nthou not reflection that thou wast once a member of the devil, sleeping in\nthe filth of impurity, and that God by His mercy drew thee from that great\nmisery in which thou wast, thy soul and thy body? It does not befit thee,\nthen, to be ungrateful nor forgetful, for evil would befall thee, and the\ndevil would come back with seven companions stronger than at first. Then\nthou shalt show the grace thou hast received by being grateful and\nmindful, when thou shalt be strong in battles with the devil, the world,\nand thy flesh, which vexes thee; thou must be persevering in virtue.\nCling, my daughter, if thou wilt escape such vexations, to the Tree of the\nmost holy Cross, in bodily abstinence, in vigil and in prayer, bathing\nthee by holy desire in the blood of Christ crucified. So thou shalt attain\nthe life of grace, and do the will of God, and fulfil my desire, which\nlongs to have thee a true servant of Christ crucified. I beg thee\ntherefore not to be a child any longer, and to choose for Bridegroom\nChrist crucified, who has bought thee with His Blood. If thou yet wishest\nthe life of the world, it befits thee to wait long enough so that the way\ncan be found of giving it to thee in a way that shall be for the honour of\nGod and for thy good. Be subject and obedient till death, and do not\ncontradict the will of Catarina and Giovanna, who I know will never\ncounsel thee or tell thee anything that is not for the honour of God and\nthe salvation of thy soul and body. If thou dost not behave so, thou wilt\ndisplease me very much, and do thyself little good. I hope in the goodness\nof God that thou wilt so act that He will be honoured, and thou shalt have\nthy reward and give me great consolation.\n\nI tell thee, Catarina and Giovanna, to work till death for the honour of\nGod and her salvation. Sweet daughters, now is the time for toils, which\nmust be our consolations in Christ crucified. I say no more. Remain in the\nholy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO SISTER DANIELLA OF ORVIETO\nCLOTHED WITH THE HABIT OF SAINT DOMINIC WHO NOT BEING ABLE TO CARRY OUT\nHER GREAT PENANCES HAD FALLEN INTO DEEP AFFLICTION\n\n\nCatherine's beloved sister Daniella is in trouble. As happened to many\nothers leading the dedicated life in the middle ages, she has carried her\nscorn of the body past all bounds of reason, has fallen ill and been\nobliged to care for her poor physical nature. Catherine, who is\nperpetually trying to raise Fra Raimondo and others in her spiritual\nfamily to more heroic heights, recognizes the different needs of this\nover-eager soul. She writes her friend, therefore, a long and tender\nletter, one of the most elaborate among her many analyses of the means\nthat lead to perfection, urging upon her discretion and a sense of\nproportion in spiritual things. It is noteworthy that Catherine's\nexhortations to impassioned sacrifice are almost always delivered in\nconnection with the claims of active service, to the Church or fellow-men.\nWhen writing to \"contemplatives\" absorbed in the ecstasies and trials of\nthe interior life, her habitual warnings are against excess, her constant\nplea, as here, for a perception of relative values. She ranks, herself,\nalike as a great \"contemplative\" and as a great woman of action: both\nphases of experience relate to something deeper. Her soul was athirst for\nthe Infinite, and well she knew that neither in deeds nor in ascetic\necstasy, but only in \"holy desire,\" in the life of ceaseless aspiration\n\"which prays for ever in the presence of God,\" can our mortality attain to\nuntrammelled union with Infinite Being.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest daughter and sister in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant\nand slave of the servants of Jesus Christ, write to thee in His precious\nBlood, with desire to see in thee the holy virtue of discretion, which it\nis necessary for us to have if we wish to be saved. Why is it so\nnecessary? Because it proceeds from the knowledge of ourselves and of God;\nin this house its roots are planted. It is really an offspring of charity,\nwhich, properly speaking, is discretion--an illumined knowledge which the\nsoul has, as I said, of God and itself. The chief thing it does is this:\nhaving seen, in a reasonable light, what it ought to render and to whom,\nit renders this with perfect discretion at once. So it renders glory to\nGod and praise to His Name; the soul achieves all its works by this light\nand to this end. It renders to God His due of honour--not like an\nindiscreet robber, who wants to give honour to himself, and, seeking his\nown honour and pleasure, does not mind insulting God and harming his\nneighbour. When the roots of inclination in the soul are rotted by\nindiscretion, all its works, relating to others or to itself, are rotten.\nAll relating to others, I say: for it imposes burdens indiscreetly, and\nlays down the law to other people, seculars or spiritual, or of whatever\nrank they may be. If such a person admonishes or advises, he does it\nindiscreetly, and wants to load everyone else with the burden which he\ncarries himself. The discreet soul, that sees its own need and that of\nothers reasonably, does just the opposite. When it has rendered to God His\ndue of honour, it gives its own due to itself--that is, hatred of sin and\nof its own fleshliness. What is the reason? The love of virtue, which it\nloves in itself. It renders its due to the neighbour with the same light\nas to itself, and therefore I said, in relation to itself and to others.\nSo it gives goodwill to its neighbour, as it is bound to do, loving virtue\nin him and hating sin. It loves him as a being created by the Highest\nEternal Father. And it gives him loving charity more or less perfectly,\naccording as it has this in itself. Yes, this is the principal result\nwhich the virtue of discretion achieves in the soul: it has seen clearly\nwhat due it ought to render, and to whom.\n\nThese are three chief branches of that glorious discretion which springs\nfrom the tree of charity. From this tree spring infinite fruits, all\nmellow and very sweet, which nourish the soul in the life of grace, when\nit plucks them with the hand of free will, and eats them with holy eager\ndesire. Whatever condition a person may be in, he tastes these fruits, if\nhe has the light of discretion, in diverse ways, according to his state.\nHe who is placed in the world, and has this light, gathers the fruit of\nobedience to the commands of God, and distaste for the world, of which he\ndivests himself in mind, although he may be clothed with it in fact. If he\nhas children, he plucks the fruit of the fear of God, and nourishes them\nwith this holy fear. If he is a nobleman, he plucks the fruit of justice,\ndiscreetly wishing to render to everyone his due--so he punishes the\nunjust man rigorously, and rewards the just, tasting the fruit of reason,\nand for no flatteries or servile fear deserts this way. If he is a\nsubject, he gathers the fruit of obedience and reverence toward his lord,\navoiding any cause or means by which he might offend him. Had he not seen\nthese things by the light, he would not have avoided them. If men are\nmonks or prelates, they get from the tree the sweet and pleasing fruit of\nobserving their Rule, enduring one another's faults, embracing shames and\nannoyances, placing on their shoulders the yoke of obedience. The prelate\ntakes desire for the honour of God and the salvation of souls, seeking to\nwin them by doctrine and exemplary life. In what different ways and by\nwhat different people these fruits are gathered! It would take too long to\ntell them the tongue could not express it.\n\nBut let us see, dearest daughter (now we will speak in particular, and so\nwe shall be speaking in general too), what rule that virtue of discretion\nimposes on the soul. That rule seems to me to apply both to the soul and\nbody of people who wish to live spiritually, in deed and thought. To be\nsure, it regulates every person in his rank and place: but let us now talk\nto ourselves. The first rule it gives to the soul is that we have\nmentioned--to render honour to God, goodwill to one's neighbour, and to\noneself, hatred of sin and of one's own fleshliness. It regulates this\ncharity toward the neighbour; for it is not willing to sacrifice the soul\nto him, since, in order to do him good or pleasure, it is not willing to\noffend God; but it flees from guilt discreetly, yet holds its body ready\nfor every pain and torment, even to death, to rescue a soul, and as many\nsouls as it can, from the hands of the devil. Also, it is ready to give up\nall its temporal possessions to help and rescue the body of its neighbour.\nCharity does this, when enlightened with discretion; for discretion should\nregulate one's charity to one's neighbour. The indiscreet man does just\nthe contrary, who does not mind offending God, or sacrificing his soul, to\nserve or please his neighbour--sometimes by keeping him company in wicked\nplaces, sometimes by bearing false witness, or in many other ways, as\nhappens every day. This is the rule of indiscretion, which proceeds from\npride and perverse self-love and the blindness of not having known oneself\nor God.\n\nAnd when measure and rule have been found in regard to charity to the\nneighbour, discretion regulates also the matter which keeps the soul in\nthat charity, and makes it grow--that is, in faithful, humble, and\ncontinual prayer; robing the soul in the cloak of desire for virtue, that\nit may not be injured by lukewarmness, negligence, or self-love, spiritual\nor temporal: therefore it inspires the soul with this desire for virtue,\nthat its desire may not be placed on anything by which it might be\ndeceived.\n\nAlso, it rules and orders the creature physically, in this way: the soul\nwhich is prepared to wish for God makes its beginning as we have said; but\nbecause it has the vessel of its body, enlightened discretion must impose\na rule on this, as it has done upon the soul, since the body ought to be a\nmeans for the increase of virtue. The rule withdraws it from the\nindulgences and luxuries of the world, and the conversation of worldlings;\ngives it conversation with the servants of God; takes it from dissolute\nplaces, and keeps it in places that stimulate devotion. It imposes\nrestraint on all the members of the body, that they be modest and\ntemperate: let the eye not look where it should not, but hold before\nitself earth, and heaven; let the tongue flee idle and vain speech, and be\ndisciplined to proclaim the word of God for the salvation of the\nneighbour, and to confess its sins: let the ear flee agreeable,\nflattering, dissolute words, and any words of detraction that might be\nsaid to it; and let it hearken for the word of God, and the need of the\nneighbour, willingly listening to his necessity. So let the hand be swift\nin touching and working, and the feet in going: to all, discretion gives a\nrule. And that the perverse law of the flesh that fights against the\nspirit may not throw these tools into disorder, it imposes a rule upon the\nbody, mortifying it with vigil, fast, and the other exercises which are\nall meant to bridle our body.\n\nBut note, that all this is done, not indiscreetly, but with enlightened\ndiscretion. How is this shown? In this: that the soul does not place its\nchief desire in any act of penance. That it may not fall into such a fault\nas to take penance for its chief desire, enlightened discretion takes\npains to robe the soul in the desire for virtue. Penance to be sure must\nbe used as a tool, in due times and places, as need may be. If the flesh,\nbeing too strong, kicks against the spirit, penance takes the rod of\ndiscipline, and fast, and the cilice of many buds, and mighty vigils; and\nplaces burdens enough on the flesh, that it may be more subdued. But if\nthe body is weak, fallen into illness, the rule of discretion does not\napprove of such a method. Nay, not only should fasting be abandoned, but\nflesh be eaten; if once a day is not enough, then four times. If one\ncannot stand up, let him stay on his bed; if he cannot kneel, let him sit\nor lie down, as he needs. This discretion demands. Therefore it insists\nthat penance be treated as a means and not as a chief desire.\n\nDost thou know why it must not be chief? That the soul may not serve God\nwith a thing that can be taken from it and that is finite: but with holy\ndesire, which is infinite, through its union with the infinite desire of\nGod; and with the virtues which neither devil nor fellow-creature nor\nweakness can take from us, unless we choose. Herein must we make our\nfoundation, and not in penance. Nay, in weakness the virtue of patience\nmay be tested; in vexing conflicts with devils, fortitude and long\nperseverance; and in adversities suffered from our fellow-beings,\nhumility, patience, and charity. So as to all other virtues--God lets them\nbe tested by many contraries, but never taken from us, unless we choose.\nHerein must we make our foundation, and not in penance. The soul cannot\nhave two foundations: either the one or the other must be overthrown. Let\nthe thing which is not the chief, be used as a means. If I find my chief\nprinciple in bodily penance, I build the city of my soul upon the sand, so\nthat each little breeze throws it to the earth, and no building can be\nerected on it. But if I build upon the virtues, founded upon the Living\nStone, Christ sweet Jesus, there is no building so great that it will not\nstand firmly, nor wind so contrary that it can ever blow it down.\n\nFrom these and many other difficulties that arise, it has not been meant\nthat penance should be used otherwise than as a means. I have already seen\nmany penitents who have been neither patient nor obedient, because they\nhave studied to kill their bodies, but not their wills. The rule of\nindiscretion has wrought this. Dost thou know the result? All their\nconsolations and desires centre in carrying out their penance to suit\nthemselves, and not to suit anyone else. Therein they nourish their will.\nWhile they can fulfil their penance, they have consolation and gladness,\nand seem to themselves full of God, as if they had accomplished\neverything; and they do not perceive that they fall into a mere personal\nestimate, and into a judicial attitude. For if all people do not walk in\nthe same way, they seem to them in a state of damnation, an imperfect\nstate. They indiscreetly want to measure all bodies by one same measure,\nby that with which they measure themselves. And if one wants to withdraw\nthem from this, either to break their will or from some necessity of\ntheirs, they hold their will harder than a diamond; living in such wise,\nthat at the time of test by a temptation or injury, they find themselves,\nfrom indulgence in this wrong will, weaker than straw.\n\nIndiscretion taught them that penance bridled wrath, impatience, and the\nother sinful impulses that come into the heart; it is not so. This\nglorious light teaches thee that thou shalt kill sin in thy soul, and draw\nout its roots, with hatred and displeasure against thyself, loading thy\nfault with rebuke, with the consideration of who God is whom thou\nwrongest, and who thou art who wrongest Him, with the memory of death and\nthe longing for virtue. Penance cuts off, yet thou wilt always find the\nroot in thee, ready to sprout again; but virtue pulls up. Earth in which\nsins have been planted is always ready to receive them again if self-will\nputs them there with free choice; not otherwise, when once the root is\npulled up.\n\nIt may happen that a sick body is obliged perforce to give up its habits\nof life; then it falls at once into weariness and confusion of mind,\ndeprived of all gladness: it thinks itself condemned and confounded, and\nfinds no sweetness in prayer, such as it seemed to have in the time of its\npenance. And whither is this sweetness gone? Lost, with the personal will\non which it was built! This cannot be gratified, and so the soul suffers.\nAnd why art thou fallen into such confusion and almost despair? And where\nis the hope which thou hadst in the Kingdom of God? All lost, by means of\nthat very penance through which the soul hoped to have eternal life!\nCapable of this no more, it thinks itself deprived of the other.\n\nThese are the fruits of indiscretion. Had the soul the light of\ndiscretion, it would see that nothing but being without virtues deprived\nit of God; and it has eternal life through virtue, by the Blood of Christ.\nThen let us rise above all imperfection, and set our heart, as I said, on\ntrue virtues, which are of such joy and gladsomeness as tongue could not\ntell. There is none who can give pain to the soul founded on virtue, or\ntake from it the hope of heaven; for it has put its self-will to death in\nspiritual things as in temporal, and its affections are not set on\npenance, or private consolations or revelations, but on endurance through\nChrist crucified and the love of virtue. So it is patient, faithful, hopes\nin God and not in itself or its works: is humble and obedient, believing\nothers rather than itself, because it does not presume. It stretches wide\nthe arms of mercy, and thereby drives forth confusion of mind. In shadows\nand conflicts it uplifts the light of faith, labouring manfully, with true\nand profound humility; and in gladness it enters into itself, that the\nheart may not fall into vain glee. It is strong and persevering, because\nit has put to death its own will, which made it weak and inconstant. All\ntimes are the right time for it; all places the right place. If it is in a\nseason of penance, this is a time of gladness and consolation to it, using\npenance as a means; and if, by necessity or obedience, penance has to be\nabandoned, it rejoices; because its chief foundation, in the love of\nvirtue, cannot be and is not taken from it; and because it sees the\ncontradiction of its own will, which it has been enlightened to perceive\nmust always be resisted with great diligence and zeal.\n\nIt finds prayer in every place, for it bears ever with it the place\nwherein God lives by grace, and where we ought to pray--that is, the house\nof our soul wherein holy desire prays constantly. This desire is uplifted\nby the light of the mind to be reflected in itself and in the immeasurable\nflame of divine love, which it finds in the Blood shed for us, which by\nlargess of love it finds in the vase of the soul. This it cares and should\ncare to know, that it may drink deep of the Blood, and therein consume its\nself-will--and not simply to accomplish the count of many paternosters. So\nwe shall make our prayer continuous and faithful; because in the fire of\nHis love we know that He is powerful to give us what we ask. He is Highest\nWisdom, who knows how to give and discern what we need; He is a most\npiteous and gracious Father, who wishes to give us more than we desire,\nand more than we know how to ask for our need. The soul is humble, for it\nhas recognized its own defects and that in itself it is not. This is the\nkind of prayer through which we attain virtue, and preserve in our souls\nthe longing for it.\n\nWhat is the beginning of so great good? Discretion, the daughter of\ncharity, as I said. And it presents straightway to its neighbour the good\nwhich it has itself. So it seeks to present to its fellow-creature the\nfoundation it has found, and the love and the teaching it has received,\nand shows these by example of life and doctrine, advising when it sees\nneed or when advice were asked of it. It comforts the soul of its\nneighbour, and does not confound him by leading him into despair when he\nhas fallen into some fault; but tenderly it makes itself ill with that\nsoul, giving him what healing it can, and enlarging in him hope in the\nBlood of Christ crucified.\n\nThe virtue of discretion gives this and infinitely many other fruits to\nthe neighbour. Then, since it is so useful and necessary, dearest and most\nbeloved daughter and sister mine in Christ sweet Jesus, I summon thee and\nme to do what in past time I confess not to have done with that perfection\nwhich I should. It has not happened to thee as to me, to have been and to\nbe very faulty, or over-lax and easy-going in my life, instead of strict,\nthrough my fault; but thou, as one who has wished to subdue her youthful\nbody that it be not rebel to the soul, hast chosen a life so extremely\nstrict that apparently it is out of all bounds of discretion; in so much\nthat it seems to me that indiscretion is trying to make thee feel some of\nits results, and is quickening thy self-will in this. And now that thou\nart leaving what thou art accustomed to do, the devil apparently is trying\nto make it seem to thee that thou art damned. I am very much distressed at\nthis, and I believe that it is a great offence against God. Therefore I\nwill and I beg thee that our beginning and foundation be in the love of\nvirtue, as I said. Kill thy self-will, and do what thou art made to do;\npay attention rather to how things look to others than to thyself. Thou\ndost feel thy body weak and ill; take every day the food that is needed to\nrestore nature. And if thy illness and weakness are relieved, undertake a\nregular life in moderation, and not intemperately. Do not consent to let\nthe little good of penance hinder the greater; nor array thyself therein\nas thy chief affection--for thou wouldst find thyself deceived: but wish\nthat we may haste in sincerity upon the beaten road of virtue, and that we\nmay guide others on this same road, breaking and shattering our own wills.\nIf we have the virtue of discretion in us, we shall do it; otherwise, not.\n\nTherefore I said that I desired to see in thee the holy virtue of\ndiscretion. I say no more. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God.\nForgive me should I have talked too presumptuously; the love of thy\nsalvation, through the honour of God, is my reason. Sweet Jesus, Jesus\nLove.\n\n\n\n\nTO BROTHER RAIMONDO OF CAPUA\nOF THE ORDER OF THE PREACHERS\n\nAND TO MASTER JOHN III.\nOF THE ORDER OF THE HERMIT BROTHERS OF ST. AUGUSTINE\n\nAND TO ALL THEIR COMPANIONS\nWHEN THEY WERE AT AVIGNON\n\n\nCatherine's interest in public affairs is rising and widening. This letter\nmarks an inner crisis. Her thoughts and deeds have, as we have seen, been\nalready busied for some time with the dissension between the Pope and his\nrebellious Tuscan people: now the hour has come when she is to feel\nherself solemnly dedicated, by a divine command, to the great task of\nreconciliation. We overhear her, as it were, thinking out in her Master's\npresence and with His aid the deepest questions which the situation\nsuggests: and as we listen to that colloquy, so natural, so sweetly\nfamiliar, so deeply reverent, we feel that no problems, however sorrowful\nand perplexing, could be hopeless there. From communion with her Lord, she\nwent forth strong and reassured into the stormy action of her time. Christ\nHimself, so she tells us, placed the Cross upon her shoulder and the olive\nin her hand, changed her mourning into a high and rapturous hope, and bade\nher go, strong in the faith, to bear His message of joy \"to one and the\nother people.\" Thus she should be shown in art--Cross-bearer like her\nLord, and holding to the world the sign of reconciliation. Thus did she\nstart upon the Via Dolorosa of the peace-maker; from now on we shall\nfollow her in her letters, as she treads that way of sorrows which was\nalso the way of life.\n\nThe experience here described fell on the first of April, 1376. Early in\nMay, the Florentines, knowing of her holy fame, sent for her to come to\ntheir city and give them counsel. For to defy the Vicar of Christ was a\nfearsome thing, and many hearts were uneasy in the rebellious town.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest my sons in Christ Jesus. I your poor mother have longed\npassionately to see your hearts and affections nailed to the Cross, held\ntogether by the bond which grafted God into man and man into God. So my\nsoul longs to see your affections grafted into the Incarnate Word Christ\nJesus, in such wise that nor demons nor creatures can divide you. For if\nyou are held and enkindled by sweet Jesus, I do not fear that all the\ndevils of hell with all their wiles can separate you from so sweet love\nand union. So I wish, because there is mighty need, that you should never\ncease from throwing fuel on the fire of holy desire--the fuel of the\nknowledge of yourselves. For that is the fuel which feeds the fire of\ndivine charity: charity which is won by knowledge of the inestimable love\nof God, and then unites the soul with its neighbour. And the more material\none gives to the flame--that is, the more fuel of self-knowledge--the more\nthe warmth of the love of Christ and one's neighbour increases. Abide,\nthen, hidden in the knowledge of yourselves, and do not live\nsuperficially, lest Devil Malatasca catch you with many illusions and\nreflections against one another: this he would do to take from you your\nunion in divine charity. So I will and command you that the one be subject\nto the other, and each bear the faults of the other; learning from the\nSweet Primal Truth, who chose to be the least of men, and humbly bore all\nour faults and iniquities. So I will that you do, dearest sons; love,\nlove, love one another. And joy and exult, for the summer-tide draws near.\n\nFor the first of April, especially in the night, God opened His secrets,\nshowing His marvellous things in such a wise that my soul did not seem to\nbe in the body, and received such joy and plenitude as the tongue does not\nsuffice to tell. He explained and made clear part by part the mystery of\nthe persecution which Holy Church is now enduring, and of her renewal and\nexaltation, which shall be in time to come: saying that the present crisis\nis permitted to restore her to her true condition. The Sweet Primal Truth\nquoted two words which are in the Holy Gospel--\"It must needs be that\noffences come into the world\": and then added: \"But woe to him by whom the\noffence cometh.\" As if He said: \"I permit this time of persecution, to\nuproot the thorns, with which My bride is wholly choked; but I do not\npermit the evil thoughts of men. Dost thou know what I do? I am doing as I\ndid when I was in the world, when I made the scourge of cords, and drove\nout those who sold and bought in the Temple, not choosing that the House\nof God should be made a den of thieves. So I tell thee that I am doing\nnow. For I have made a scourge out of human beings, and with that scourge\nI drive out the impure traffickers, greedy, avaricious, and swollen with\npride, who buy and sell the gifts of the Holy Spirit.\" Yes, He was driving\nthem forth with the scourge of the persecutions of their fellow-beings--\nthat is, by force of tribulation and persecution He put an end to their\ndisorderly and immodest living.\n\nAnd, the fire growing in me, I gazed and saw the Christian people and the\ninfidel enter into the side of Christ crucified; and I passed through the\nmidst of them, by my loving and longing desire, and entered with them into\nChrist Sweet Jesus, accompanied by my father St. Dominic, and John the\nSingle, with all my sons together. Then He placed the Cross on my shoulder\nand the olive in my hand, almost as if I had asked for them, and said that\nthus I should bear them, to the one and to the other people. And He said\nto me: \"Tell them, I bring you tidings of great joy.\" Then my soul became\nmore full; it was lost to itself among the true believers who feed upon\nthe Divine Substance, by the uniting force and longing of love. And so\ngreat was the delight of my soul, that it no longer realized its past\naffliction from seeing God wronged; nay! I said: \"O blessed and fortunate\nwrong!\" Then sweet Jesus smiled, and said: \"Is sin fortunate, which is\nnothing at all? Dost thou know what St. Gregory meant when he said,\n'Blessed and fortunate fault'? What element is it that thou holdest as\nfortunate and blessed, and that Gregory calls so?\" I replied as He made me\nreply, and said: \"I see well, sweet my Lord, and well I know, that sin is\nnot worthy of good fortune, and is not fortunate nor blessed in itself;\nbut the fruit may be, which comes from sin. It seems to me that Gregory\nmeant this: that through the sin of Adam, God gave us the Word, His only-\nbegotten Son, and the Word gave His Blood, so that, giving His life, He\nrestored life with a great fire of love. So, then, sin is fortunate, not\nthrough the sin itself, but from the fruit and the gift we receive by that\nsin.\" Now, so it is. Thus from the wrong done by the wicked Christians who\npersecute the Bride of Christ, spring her exaltation, her light, and the\nfragrance of her virtues. This was so sweet that there seemed no\ncomparison between the wrong, and the unsearchable goodness and benignity\nof God, which He showed toward His Bride. Then I rejoiced and exulted, and\nwas so arrayed in assurance of the time to come that I seemed to possess\nand taste it. And I said then with Simeon: \"Nunc dimittis servum tuum,\nDomine, secundum verbum tuum, in pace.\" So many mysteries were wrought in\nme as tongue cannot suffice to tell nor heart to think nor eye to see.\n\nNow, what tongue could suffice to tell the wonderful things of God? Not\nmine, poor wretch that I am. Therefore I choose to keep silence, and to\ngive me wholly to seeking the honour of God and the salvation of souls and\nthe renewal and exaltation of Holy Church, and through grace and power of\nthe Holy Spirit to persevere even unto death. With this desire I called\nour Christ on earth, and I will call him, with great love and compassion,\nand you, father, and all my dear sons; I made and was granted your\npetition. Rejoice, then, rejoice and exult. O sweet God our Love, fulfil\nquickly the desires of thy servants! I will say no more--and I have said\nnothing. I die, delayed in my desires. Have compassion on me. Pray the\ndivine Goodness and Christ on earth that there be no more loitering.\nRemain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Drown you in the Blood of\nChrist crucified; and on no account faint, but rather take comfort.\nRejoice, rejoice, in your sweet labours. Love, love, love one another.\nSweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO SISTER BARTOLOMEA DELLA SETA\nNUN IN THE CONVENT OF SANTO STEFANO AT PISA\n\n\nThe conflicts of the cloister and of the court are not dissimilar; and the\nfirst, to Catherine, are as real and significant as the second. She writes\nin a familiar strain to Sister Bartolomea. The truths on which she is\ninsisting have been reiterated in every age by guides to the spiritual\nlife. But whenever, as here, they come from the depths of personal\nexperience, they possess peculiar freshness and force; and, indeed, this\nColloquy of the Saint of Siena with her Lord has become a _locus\nclassicus_ in the literature of the interior life.\n\nOne likes to note, in passing, how frequently Catherine urges frail,\ncloistered women, sheltered from all the din and storm of outer life, to\n\"manfulness.\" \"Virile,\" \"virilmente\"--they are among her especial words.\nAnd, indeed, they well befit her own spirit, singularly vigorous and\nfearless for a woman whose feminine sensitiveness is evident in every\nletter she writes.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest daughter in Christ Jesus. I Catherine, servant and slave of the\nservants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood: with desire\nto see you a true bride, consecrated to the eternal Bridegroom. It belongs\nto a bride to make her will one with that of her bridegroom; she cannot\nwill more than he wills, and seems unable to think of anything but him.\nNow do you so think, daughter mine, for you, who are a bride of Christ\ncrucified, ought not to think or will anything apart from Him--that is,\nnot to consent to any other thoughts. That thoughts should not come, this\nI do not tell thee--because neither thou nor any created being couldst\nprevent them. For the devil never sleeps; and God permits this to make His\nbride reach perfect zeal and grow in virtue. This is the reason why God\nsometimes permits the mind to remain sterile and gloomy, and beset by many\nperverse cogitations, so that it seems unable to think of God, and can\nhardly remember His Name.\n\nBeware, when thou mayest feel this in thyself, lest thou fall into\nweariness or bewildered confusion, and do not give up thy exercises nor\nthe act of praying, because the devil may say to thee: \"How does this\nprayer uplift thee, since thou dost not offer it with any feeling or\ndesire? It would be better for thee not to make it.\" Yet do not give up,\nnor fall for this into confusion, but reply manfully: \"I would rather\nexert myself for Christ crucified, feeling pain, gloom and inward\nconflicts, than not exert myself and feel repose.\" And reflect, that this\nis the state of the perfect; if it were possible for them to escape Hell,\nand have joy in this life and joy eternal beside, they do not want it,\nbecause they delight so greatly in conforming themselves to Christ\ncrucified; nay, they want to live rather by the way of the Cross and pain,\nthan without pain. Now what greater joy can the bride have than to be\nconformed to her bridegroom, and clothed with like raiment? So, since\nChrist crucified in His life chose naught but the Cross and pain, and\nclothed Him in this raiment, His bride holds herself blessed when she is\nclothed in this same raiment; and because she sees that the Bridegroom has\nloved her so beyond measure, she loves and receives Him with such love and\ndesire as no tongue can suffice to tell. Therefore the Highest and Eternal\nGoodness, to make her attain most perfect love and possess humility,\npermits her many conflicts and a dry mind, that the creature may know\nitself and see that it is not. For were it anything, it would free itself\nfrom pain when it chose, but being naught it cannot. So, knowing itself,\nit is humbled in its non-existence, and knows the goodness of God, which,\nthrough grace, has given it being, and every grace that is founded upon\nbeing.\n\nBut thou wilt say to me: \"When I have so much pain, and suffer so many\nconflicts and such gloom, I can see nothing but confusion; and it does not\nseem as if I could take any hope, I see myself so wretched.\" I reply to\nthee, my daughter, that if thou shalt seek, thou shalt find God in thy\ngoodwill. Granted that thou feel many conflicts, do thou not therefore\nfeel thy will deprived of wishing God. Nay, this is the reason why the\nsoul mourns and suffers, because it fears to offend God. It ought then to\njoy and exult, and not to fall into confusion through its conflicts,\nseeing that God keeps its will good, and gives it hatred of mortal sin.\n\nI remember that I heard this said once to a servant of God, and it was\nsaid to her by the Sweet Primal Truth, when she was abiding in very great\npain and temptation, and among other things, felt the greatest confusion,\nin so much that the devil said: \"What wilt thou do? for all the time of\nthy life thou shalt abide in these pains, and then thou shalt have hell.\"\nShe then answered with manly heart, and without any fear, and with holy\nhatred of herself, saying: \"I do not avoid pains, for I have chosen pains\nfor my refreshment. And if at the end He should give me hell, I will not\ntherefore abandon serving my Creator. For I am she who am worthy of\nabiding in hell, because I wronged the Sweet Primal Truth; so, did He give\nme hell, He would do me no wrong, since I am His.\" Then our Saviour, in\nthis sweet and true humility, scattered the shadows and torments of the\ndevil, as it happens when the cloud passes that the sun remains; and\nsuddenly came the Presence of Our Saviour. Thence she melted into a river\nof tears, and said in a sweet glow of love: \"O sweet and good Jesus, where\nwast thou when my soul was in such affliction?\" Sweet Jesus, the Spotless\nLamb, replied: \"I was beside thee. For I move not, and never leave My\ncreature, unless the creature leave Me through mortal sin.\" And that woman\nabode in sweet converse with Him, and said: \"If Thou wast with me, how did\nI not feel Thee? How can it be that being by the fire, I should not feel\nthe heat? And I felt nothing but freezing cold, sadness, and bitterness,\nand seemed to myself full of mortal sins.\" He replied sweetly, and said:\n\"Dost thou wish Me to show thee, daughter mine, how in those conflicts\nthou didst not fall into mortal sin, and how I was beside thee? Tell me,\nwhat is it that makes sin mortal? Only the will. For sin and virtue\nconsist in the consent of the will; there is no sin nor virtue, unless\nvoluntarily wrought. This will was not in thee; for had it been, thou\nwouldst have taken joy and delight in the suggestions of the devil; but\nsince the will was not there, thou didst grieve over them, and suffer for\nfear of doing wrong. So thou seest that sin and virtue consist in choice--\nwherefore I tell thee that thou shouldst not, on account of these\nconflicts, fall into disordered confusion. But I will that from this\ndarkness thou derive the light of self-knowledge, in which thou mayest\ngain the virtue of humility, and joy and exult in a good will, knowing\nthat then I abide in thee secretly. The will is a sign to thee that I am\nthere; for hadst thou an evil will, I should not be in thee by grace. But\nknowest thou how I thus abide in thee? In the same way in which I hung\nupon the wood of the Cross. And I take the same way with you that my\nFather took with Me. Reflect, daughter mine, that upon the Cross I was\nblessed and was sorrowful; blessed I was by the union of the divine and\nthe human nature, and nevertheless the flesh endured pain, because the\nEternal Father withdrew His power to Himself, letting Me suffer; but He\ndid not withdraw the union in which He was for ever united with Me.\nReflect that in this way I abide in the soul; for often I withdraw to\nmyself feeling, but do not withdraw grace, since grace is never lost,\nexcept by mortal sin, as I said. But knowest thou why I do this? Only to\nmake the soul reach true perfection. Thou knowest that the soul cannot be\nperfect unless borne on these two wings, humility and charity. Humility is\nwon through the knowledge of itself, into which it enters in the time of\ndarkness; and charity is won by seeing that I, through love, have kept its\nwill holy and good. Wherefore, I tell thee, that the wise soul, seeing\nthat from this experience proceeds such profit, reassures itself (and for\nno other cause do I permit the devil to give you temptations), and will\nhold this time dearer than any other. Now I have told thee the way I take.\nAnd reflect, that such experience is very necessary to your salvation; for\nif the soul were not sometimes pressed by many temptations, it would fall\ninto very great negligence, and would lose the exercise of continual\ndesire and prayer. Because in the hour of battle it is more alert, through\nfear of its foes, and provisions the rock of its soul, having recourse to\nMe who am its Fortitude. But this is not the intention of the devil--for\nI permit him to tempt you that he may make you attain virtue, though he,\non his part, tempts you to make you attain despair. Reflect that the devil\nwill tempt a person who is dedicated to My service, not because he\nbelieves that the man may actually fall into that sin, for he sees at once\nthat he would choose death rather than actually to do wrong. But what does\nhe do? He exerts himself to make the man fall into confusion, saying: 'No\ngood is of any use to you, on account of these thoughts and impulses that\ncome to you.' Now thou seest how great is the malice of the devil; for,\nnot being able to conquer in the first battle, he often conquers in the\nsecond, under guise of virtue. Wherefore I do not want thee ever to follow\nhis malicious will; but I want thee to assume My will, as I have told\nthee. This is the rule which I give thee, and which I wish thee to teach\nothers when there is need.\"\n\nNow thus I tell thee, dearest my daughter, that I want thee to do. And be\nfor me a mirror of virtue, following the footsteps of Christ crucified.\nBathe thee in the Blood of Christ crucified, and so live, as is my will,\nthat thou nor seek nor will aught but the Crucified, like a true bride,\nbought with the Blood of Christ crucified. Well seest thou that thou art a\nbride, and that He has wedded thee and every creature, not with a ring of\nsilver, but with the ring of His Flesh. O depth and height of Love\nunspeakable, how didst Thou love this Bride, the human race! O Life\nthrough which all things do live, Thou hast plucked it from the hands of\nthe devil, who possessed it as his own; from his hands Thou hast plucked\nit, catching the devil with the hook of Thy humanity, and hast wedded it\nwith Thy flesh. Thou hast given Thy Blood for a pledge, and at the last,\nsacrificing Thy body, Thou hast made the payment. Now drink deep, my\ndaughter, and fall not into negligence, but arise with true zeal, and by\nthis Blood may the hardness of thy heart be broken in such wise that it\nnever may close again, for any ignorance or negligence, nor for the speech\nof any creature. I say no more. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God.\nSweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO GREGORY XI\n\n\nCatherine, sent by the Florentines as their representative to the Pope,\nhas reached Avignon and seen the Holy Father. Far from being overawed in\nhis presence, she has evidently felt toward him a mingling of sympathy and\ntenderness not untouched by compassion. She is impressed by the\nsensitiveness of the man--by the strength of the adverse influences\ncontinually playing upon him from his own household; above all, by his\nextreme timidity. The gentle, reassuring tone of this letter is almost\nlike that of a mother encouraging a dear but weak-spirited child to make\nhis own decisions and to abide by them. Catherine's sweetness of nature\npreserves her from viewing Gregory with any tinge of contempt; but we\ncannot help feeling the contrast between this frail woman of heroic soul\nand the hesitating figure of the Pope.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nMost holy and blessed father in Christ sweet Jesus: your poor unworthy\nlittle daughter Catherine comforts you in His precious Blood, with desire\nto see you free from any servile fear. For I consider that a timorous man\ncuts short the vigour of holy resolves and good desire, and so I have\nprayed, and shall pray, sweet and good Jesus that He free you from all\nservile fear, and that holy fear alone remain. May ardour of charity be in\nyou, in such wise as shall prevent you from hearing the voice of incarnate\ndemons, and heeding the counsel of perverse counsellors, settled in self-\nlove, who, as I understand, want to alarm you, so as to prevent your\nreturn, saying, \"You will die.\" And I tell you on behalf of Christ\ncrucified, most sweet and holy father, not to fear for any reason\nwhatsoever. Come in security: trust you in Christ sweet Jesus: for, doing\nwhat you ought, God will be above you, and there will be no one who shall\nbe against you. Up, father, like a man! For I tell you that you have no\nneed to fear. You ought to come; come, then. Come gently, without any\nfear. And if any at home wish to hinder you, say to them bravely, as\nChrist said when St. Peter, through tenderness, wished to draw Him back\nfrom going to His passion; Christ turned to him, saying, \"Get thee behind\nMe, Satan; thou art an offence to Me, seeking the things which are of men,\nand not those which are of God. Wilt thou not that I fulfil the will of My\nFather?\" Do you likewise, sweetest father, following Him as His vicar,\ndeliberating and deciding by yourself, and saying to those who would\nhinder you, \"If my life should be spent a thousand times, I wish to fulfil\nthe will of my Father.\" Although bodily life be laid down for it, yet\nseize on the life of grace and the means of winning it for ever. Now\ncomfort you and fear not, for you have no need. Put on the armour of the\nmost holy Cross, which is the safety and the life of Christians. Let talk\nwho will, and hold you firm in your holy resolution. My father, Fra\nRaimondo, said to me on your behalf that I was to pray God to see whether\nyou were to meet with an obstacle, and I had already prayed about it,\nbefore and after Holy Communion, and I saw neither death nor any peril.\nThose perils are invented by the men who counsel you. Believe, and trust\nyou in Christ sweet Jesus. I hope that God will not despise so many\nprayers, made with so ardent desire, and with many tears and sweats. I say\nno more. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Pardon me, pardon me.\nJesus Christ crucified be with you. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO THE KING OF FRANCE\n\n\nCatherine's letters to great personages whom she did not know are, as\nwould be expected, less searching and fresh than the many written with a\nmore personal inspiration, but they afford at least an interesting\ntestimony to the breadth of her interests. This letter to Charles V. was\nevidently written during her stay at Avignon, where she formed relations\nwith the Duke of Anjou, and received his promise to lead in the\nprospective Crusade. Avignon was a centre of intellectual life and of\nEuropean politics, and Catherine must have been quickened there to think\nmore than ever before in large terms and on great issues. To think of a\nmatter is always, for her, to feel a sense of responsibility toward it;\nshe writes, accordingly, to Charles V., urging him to make peace with his\nbrother monarch: \"For so,\" says the maid of Siena serenely to the great\nKing--\"So you will fulfil the will of God and me.\"\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest lord and father in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and\nslave of the servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood:\nwith desire to see you observe the holy and sweet commands of God, since I\nconsider that in no other way can we share the fruit of the Blood of the\nSpotless Lamb. Sweet Jesus, the Lamb, has taught us the Way: and thus He\nsaid: \"Ego sum Via, Veritas et Vita.\" He is the sweet Master who has\ntaught us the doctrine, ascending the pulpit of the most holy Cross.\nVenerable father, what doctrine and what way does He give us? His way is\nthis: pains, shames, insults, injuries, and abuse; endurance in true\npatience, hunger and thirst; He was satiate with shame, nailed and held\nupon the Cross for the honour of the Father and our salvation. With His\npains and shame He gave satisfaction for our guilt, and the reproach in\nwhich man had fallen through the sin committed. He has made restitution,\nand has punished our sins on His own Body, and this He has done of love\nalone and not for debt.\n\nThis sweet Lamb, our Way, has despised the world, with all its luxuries\nand dignity, and has hated vice and loved virtue. Do you, as son and\nfaithful servant of Christ crucified, follow His footsteps and the way\nwhich He teaches you: bear in true patience all pain, torment, and\ntribulation which God permits the world to inflict on you. For patience is\nnot overcome, but overcomes the world. Be, ah! be a lover of virtue,\nfounded in true and holy justice, and despise vice. I beg you, by love of\nChrist crucified, to do in your state three especial things. The first is,\nto despise the world and yourself and all its joys, possessing your\nkingdom as a thing lent to you, and not your own. For well you know that\nnor life nor health nor riches nor honour nor dignity nor lordship is your\nown. Were they yours, you could possess them in your own way. But in such\nan hour a man wishes to be well, he is ill; or living, and he is dead; or\nrich, and he is poor; or a lord, and he is made a servant and vassal. All\nthis is because these things are not his own, and he can only hold them in\nso far as may please Him who has lent them to him. Very simple-minded,\nthen, is the man who holds the things of another as his own. He is really\na thief, and worthy of death. Therefore I beg you that, as The Wise, you\nshould act like a good steward, made His steward by God; possessing all\nthings as merely lent to you.\n\nThe other matter is, that you maintain holy and true justice; let it not\nbe ruined, either for self-love or for flatteries, or for any pleasing of\nmen. And do not connive at your officials doing injustice for money, and\ndenying right to the poor: but be to the poor a father, a distributer of\nwhat God has given you. And seek to have the faults that are found in your\nkingdom punished and virtue exalted. For all this appertains to the divine\njustice to do.\n\nThe third matter is, to observe the doctrine which that Master upon the\nCross gives you; which is the thing that my soul most desires to see in\nyou: that is, love and affection with your neighbour, with whom you have\nfor so long a time been at war. For you know well that without this root\nof love, the tree of your soul would not bear fruit, but would dry up,\nabiding in hate and unable to draw up into itself the moisture of grace.\nAlas, dearest father, the Sweet Primal Truth teaches it to you, and leaves\nyou for a commandment, to love God above everything, and one's neighbour\nas one's self. He gave you the example, hanging upon the wood of the most\nholy Cross. When the Jews cried \"Crucify!\" He cried with meek and gentle\nvoice: \"Father, forgive those who crucify Me, who know not what they do.\"\nBehold His unsearchable love! For not only does He pardon them, but\nexcuses them before His Father! What example and teaching is this, that\nthe Just, who has in Him no poison of sin, endures from the unjust the\npunishment of our iniquities!\n\nOh, how the man should be ashamed who follows the teaching of the devil\nand his own lower nature, caring more to gain and keep the riches of this\nworld, which are all vain, and pass like the wind, than for his soul and\nhis neighbour! For while abiding in hate with his neighbour, he has hate\nby his side, since hate deprives him of divine charity. Surely he is\nfoolish and blind, for he does not see that with the sword of hate to his\nneighbour he is killing himself.\n\nTherefore I beg you, and will that you follow Christ crucified, and love\nyour neighbour's salvation: proving that you follow the Lamb, who for\nhunger of His Father's honour and the salvation of souls chose bodily\ndeath. So do you, my lord! Care not if you lose from your worldly\nsubstance; for loss will be gain to you, provided that you can reconcile\nyour soul with your brother. I marvel that you are not willing to devote\nto this, not only temporal things, but even, were it possible, life\nitself: considering how great destruction of souls and bodies there has\nbeen, and how many Religious and women and children have been injured and\nexiled by this war. No more, by love of Christ crucified! Do you not\nreflect of how great harm you are cause, if you fail to do what you can?\nHarm to the Christians, and harm to infidels. For your strife has\nobstructed the mystery of the Holy Crusade, and is doing so still. If no\nother harm than this followed, it seems to me that we ought to expect the\ndivine judgment. I beg you that you be no longer a worker of so great harm\nand an obstructer of so great good as the recovery of Holy Land and of\nthose poor wretched souls who do not share in the Blood of the Son of God.\nOf which thing you ought to be ashamed, you and the other Christian\nrulers: for this is a very great confusion in the sight of men and\nabomination in the sight of God, that war should be made against one's\nbrother, and the enemy left alone, and that a man should want to take away\nanother person's possessions and not to win his own back again. No more\nsuch folly and blindness! I tell you, on behalf of Christ crucified, that\nyou delay no longer to make this peace. Make peace, and direct all your\nwarfare to the infidels. Help to encourage and uplift the standard of the\nmost holy Cross, which God shall demand from you and others at the point\nof death--demanding also from you account for such ignorance and\nnegligence as has been committed and is committed every day. Sleep no\nmore, for love of Christ crucified, and for your own profit, during the\nlittle time that remains to us: for time is short, and you are to die, and\nknow not when.\n\nMay the flame of holy desire to follow this holy Cross and to be\nreconciled with your neighbour, increase in you! In this wise you will\nfollow the way and doctrine of the Lamb slain and abandoned on the Cross,\nand you will observe the commandments. You will follow the way, enduring\nwith patience the injuries that have been offered you; the doctrine, being\nreconciled with your neighbour; and the love of God, which you will\nmanifest by following the most holy Cross in the holy and sweet Crusade.\nAs to this matter, I think that your brother, Messer the Duke of Anjou,\nwill undertake the labour of this holy enterprise, for the love of Christ.\nThere would be reason for self-reproach did so sweet and holy a mystery\nremain unfulfilled through you. Now in this wise you will follow the\nfootsteps of Christ crucified, you will fulfil the will of God and me, and\nHis commands: as I told you that I wished to see you observe the holy\ncommands of God. I say no more. Pardon my presumption. Remain in the holy\nand sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nLETTERS TO FLORENCE\n\n\nThe Florentines played with Catherine as history shows that subtle folk to\nhave played with more than one of the friends whose services they\naccepted; the story of their dealings with her strongly recalls the\nsituation in Browning's _Luria_. Having been despatched ostensibly with\nfull powers as harbinger of the formal embassy to be sent later, Catherine\ncarried through her part of the negotiations with expedition, prudence and\nentire success. It shows how such unconventional democracy and matter-of-\nfact respect for spiritual values existed in the later middle ages, that\nno one seems to have been surprised at the situation. Apparently it was\nconsidered quite natural that a powerful republic should send as its\nrepresentative to the papal court a young woman, the daughter of simple\ntradespeople, whose life had been quietly passed in her father's house.\nGregory bore himself to Catherine with compunctious deference. On the\nthird day after her arrival she spoke in full consistory, pleading the\ncause of peace. The result she records in this letter: the Pope put the\nwhole matter in her hands. To the young Dominican were left the terms of\nreconciliation between the two rival powers.\n\nAll now depended upon the arrival of the Florentine ambassadors; but these\ngentlemen failed to appear, while Florence continued to pursue a\ncontumacious policy. The insult, alike to the Pope and to Catherine, was\nobvious. Avignon jested, shrugged shoulders, finally sneered. Gregory\ngently told Catherine the truth--that her friends had played her false.\nFew more mortifying situations than that in which she found herself could\nbe conceived.\n\nThe spirited letter which follows was written ten days after her arrival.\nShe speaks, as usual, without reserve, but it is noteworthy that the\nletter contains no word of personal reproof beyond the quiet statement:\n\"You might bring great shame and reproach upon me. For nothing but shame\nand confusion could result if I told the Pope one thing and you another.\"\nWhen at last the ambassadors arrived, they brought small comfort, for they\nrefused to confer with Catherine. In the second letter, written after they\nhad come to a personal friend in Florence, she tells the situation\nfrankly, and with dignity, but still with remarkable freedom from personal\nbitterness. In this time of test, no lower element than sorrow for the\nfailure of her cause appears to have been present in her mind.\n\n\n\n\nTO THE EIGHT OF WAR CHOSEN BY THE COMMUNE OF FLORENCE,\nAT WHOSE INSTANCE THE SAINT WENT TO POPE GREGORY XI\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest fathers and brothers in Christ Jesus: I Catherine, servant and\nslave of the servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood:\nwith desire to see you true sons, humble and obedient to your father in\nsuch wise that you may never look back, but feel true grief and bitterness\nover the wrong that you have done to your father. For if he who does wrong\ndoes not rise in grief above the wrong he has done, he does not deserve to\nreceive mercy. I summon you to true humiliation of your hearts; not\nlooking back, but going forward, following up the holy resolutions which\nyou began to take, and growing stronger in them every day, if you wish to\nbe received in the arms of your father. As sons who have been dead, do you\nask for life; and I hope by the goodness of God that you shall have it, if\nyou are willing really to humble yourselves and to recognize your faults.\n\nBut I complain strongly of you, if it is true what is said in these parts,\nthat you have imposed a tax upon the clergy. If this is so, it is a very\ngreat evil for two reasons. The first is that you are wronging God by it,\nfor you cannot do it with a good conscience. But it seems to me that you\nare losing your conscience and everything good; it seems as if you cared\nfor nothing but transitory things of sense, that pass like the wind. Do\nyou not see that we are mortal, and must die, and know not when? Therefore\nit is great folly to throw away the life of grace, and to bring death on\none's own self. I do not wish you to do so any more, for if you did you\nwould be turning back, and you know that it is not he who begins who\ndeserves glory, but he who perseveres to the end. So I tell you that you\nwould never reach an effective peace, unless by perseverance in humility,\nno longer insulting or offending the ministers and priests of Holy Church.\n\nThis is the other thing that I was telling you was harmful and bad. For\nbeside the evil I spoke of that comes from wronging God, I tell you that\nsuch action is ruin to your peace. For the Holy Father, if he knew it,\nwould conceive greater indignation against you.\n\nThat is what some of the cardinals have said, who are seeking and eagerly\ndesiring peace. Now, hearing this report, they say: \"It doesn't seem true\nthat the Florentines want to have peace made; for if it were true, they\nwould beware of any least action that was against the will of the Holy\nFather and the habits of Holy Church.\" I believe that sweet Christ on\nearth himself may say these and like words, and he has excellent reason to\nsay them if he does.\n\nI tell you, dearest fathers, and I beg you, not to choose to hinder the\ngrace of the Holy Spirit, which by no merits of yours He by His clemency\nis disposed to give you. You might bring great shame and reproach upon me.\nFor nothing but shame and confusion could result if I told the Holy Father\none thing and you did another. I beg you that it may not be so any more.\nNay, do you exert yourselves to show in word and deed that you wish peace\nand not war.\n\nI have talked to the Holy Father. He heard me graciously, by God's\ngoodness and his own, showing that he had a warm love of peace; like a\ngood father, who does not consider so much the wrong the son has done to\nhim, as whether he has become humble, so that he may be shown full mercy.\nWhat peculiar joy he felt my tongue could not tell. Having discussed with\nhim a good length of time, at the end of our talk he said that if your\ncase were as I presented it to him, he was ready to receive you as sons,\nand to do what seemed best to me. I say no more here. It seems to me that\nabsolutely no other answer ought to be given to the Holy Father until your\nambassadors arrive. I marvel that they are not here yet. When they shall\nhave come, I shall talk to them, and then to the Holy Father, and as I\nshall find things disposed I will write you. But you, with your taxes and\nfrivolities, are spoiling all that is sown. Do so no more, for the love of\nChrist crucified and for your own profit. I say no more. Remain in the\nholy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\nGiven in Avignon, the 28th day of June, 1376.\n\n\n\n\nTO BUONACCORSO DI LAPO IN FLORENCE\nWRITTEN WHEN THE SAINT WAS AT AVIGNON\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest brother in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of\nthe servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood: with\ndesire to see you and the others your lords, pacify your heart and soul in\nHis most sweet Blood, wherein all hate and warfare is quenched, and all\nhuman pride is lowered. For in the Blood man sees God humbled to his own\nlevel, assuming our humanity, which was opened and nailed and fastened on\nthe Cross, so that it flows from the wounds of the Body of Christ\ncrucified, and pours over us the Blood which is ministered to us by the\nministers of Holy Church. I beg you by the love of Christ crucified to\nreceive the treasure of the Blood given you by the Bride of Christ. Be\nreconciled, be reconciled to her in the Blood; recognize your sins and\noffences against her. For he who recognizes his sin, and shows that he\ndoes so by his deeds, and humbles him, always receives mercy. But he who\nshows repentance only in speech, and goes no further in works, never finds\nit. I do not say this so much for you as for others who might fall into\nthis fault.\n\nOh me, oh me, dearest brother! I mourn over the methods which have\nprevailed in asking the Holy Father for peace. For words have been more in\nevidence than deeds. I say this because when I came yonder into the\npresence of you and your lords, they seemed by their words to have\nrepented for their wrong, and to be willing to humble themselves and to\nask mercy from the Holy Father. And when I said to them: \"See, gentlemen,\nif you intend to show all possible humility in deed and speech, and wish\nme to offer you like dead children to your father, I will take all the\ntrouble you wish in this matter, otherwise I will not go yonder,\" they\nanswered me that they were content. Alas, alas! dearest brothers, this was\nthe way and the door by which you ought to have entered, and there is no\nother. Had this way been followed in deed as in word, you would have had\nthe most glorious peace that anyone ever gained. And I do not say this\nwithout reason, for I know what the Holy Father's disposition was; but\nsince we began to leave that path, following the astute ways of the world,\ndoing differently from what our words had previously implied, the Holy\nFather has had reason, not for peace, but for more disturbance. For when\nyour ambassadors came into these parts, they did not hold to the right way\nwhich the servants of God indicated to them. You went on in your own ways.\nAnd I never had a chance to confer with them, as you told me that you\nwould direct when I asked for a letter of credentials, so that we might\nconfer together about everything, and you said: \"We do not believe that\nthis thing will ever be accomplished by any other hands than those of the\nservants of God.\" Exactly the contrary has been done. All is because we\nhave not yet true recognition of our faults. I perceive that those humble\nwords proceeded rather from fear and policy than from a real impulse of\nlove and virtue; for had the wrong done really been recognized, deeds\nwould have corresponded to the sound of words, and you would have trusted\nyour needs and what you wished from the Holy Father to the hands of the\ntrue servants of God. They would so have conducted your affairs and those\nof the Holy Father that you would have reached a good understanding. You\nhave not done it; wherefore I have felt great bitterness, over the wrong\ndone to God and over our loss.\n\nBut you do not see what evil and what great misfortunes come from your\nobstinacy, and clinging fast to your resolution! Oh me, oh me! loose\nyourselves from the bond of pride, and bind you to the humble Lamb; and do\nnot scorn or oppose His Vicar. No more thus! For the love of Christ\ncrucified! Hold not His Blood cheap! That which has not been done in past\ntime, do it now. Do not feel bitter or scornful should it seem to you that\nthe Holy Father demanded what appeared very hard and impossible to do.\nNevertheless he will not wish anything but what is possible to you. But he\ndoes as a true father, who beats his son when he does wrong. He reproves\nhim very severely, to make him humble, and cognizant of his fault; and the\ntrue son does not grow angry with his father, for he sees that whatever he\ndoes is done for love of him; therefore the more the father drives him\noff, the more he returns to him, ever asking for mercy. So I tell you, on\nbehalf of Christ crucified, that the more times you should be spurned by\nour father Christ on earth, so many times you are to flee to him. Let him\ndo as he will, for he is right.\n\nBehold that now he is coming to his bride, that is to hold the seat of St.\nPeter and St. Paul. Do you run to him at once, with true humility of heart\nand amendment of your sins, following the holy principle with which you\nbegan. So doing, you shall have peace, spiritual and bodily. And if you do\nin any other way, our ancestors never had so many woes as we shall have,\nfor we shall call down the wrath of God upon us, and shall not share in\nthe Blood of the Lamb.\n\nI say no more. Be as urgent as you can, now that the Holy Father is to be\nat Rome. I have done, and shall do, what I can, until death, for the\nhonour of God and for your peace, in order that this obstacle may be\nremoved, for it hinders the holy and sweet Crusade. If no other ill should\ncome from it, we are worthy of a thousand hells. Comfort you in Christ our\nsweet Jesus, for I hope by His goodness that if you will keep in the way\nyou should you will have a good peace. Remain in the holy and sweet grace\nof God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO GREGORY XI\n\n\nThe attempt to reconcile Gregory with the Florentines miscarried through\ntheir own fault. Catherine, far from being daunted by mortification or\nfailure, bent herself with new energy to the cause which she had even more\ndeeply at heart--the return of the Pope to Rome. The ascendency which she\nobtained over his sensitive spirit was soon evident to everyone, and no\nsooner was it realized than counter influences were set to work. Other\npeople beside this woman of Siena could write letters, and, since Gregory\nproved superstitious and susceptible to the influence of holy fools, why,\nthere were ecstatics enough in Europe! The Pope, as is obvious from this\nreply of Catherine's, had received an anonymous epistle, craftily wrought,\npurporting to come from a man of God, working on his well-known love for\nhis family and timidity of nature, warning him of poison should he venture\nto return to Rome. Whether Catherine's surmise that the letter was a\nforgery proceeding from the papal court was justified we do not know; the\nepisode is of interest to us now chiefly because it called forth a reply\nwhich shows how sardonic the meek of the earth can be. Catherine's\ntrenchant exposure of the weakness of the anonymous correspondent shows\nher in a new aspect. Terrible is the scorn of the gentle. \"He who wrote it\ndoes not seem to me to understand his trade very well; he ought to put\nhimself to school,\" writes she, and proceeds with analysis so convincing\nand exhortation so invigorating that even the vacillating Gregory must\nhave been magnetized afresh with power to resolve. One feels in the letter\nthat Catherine is as near impatience with him and with the situation as is\npermitted to a saint. Gregory must have felt the sting in her words when\nshe tells him plainly that his correspondent treats him like a coward or a\nfrightened child, and adds on her own part, \"I pray you on behalf of\nChrist crucified that you be no longer a timorous child, but manly. Open\nyour mouth, and swallow down the bitter for the sake of the sweet.\" If\nanyone could hold a weak nature true to its better self, it would be this\nwoman, endued as she was with a vitality that tingles through her words\ndown the centuries.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nMost holy and reverend sweet father in Christ sweet Jesus: your poor\nunworthy daughter Catherine, servant and slave of the servants of Jesus\nChrist, writes to your Holiness in His precious Blood, with desire to see\nyou so strong and persevering in your holy resolve that no contrary wind\ncan hinder you, neither devil nor creature. For it seems that your enemies\nare disposed to come, as Our Saviour says in His holy gospel, in sheeps'\nraiment, looking like lambs, while they are ravening wolves. Our Saviour\nsays that we should be on our guard against such. Apparently, sweet\nfather, they are beginning to approach you in writing; and beside writing,\nthey announce to you the coming of the author, saying that he will arrive\nat your door when you know it not. The man sounds humble when he says, \"If\nit is open to me, I will enter and we will reason together\"; but he puts\non the garment of humility only that he may be believed. And the virtue in\nwhich pride cloaks itself is really boastful.\n\nSo far as I have understood, this person has treated your Holiness in this\nletter as the devil treats the soul, who often, under colour of virtue and\ncompassion, injects poison into it. And he uses this device especially\nwith the servants of God, because he sees that he could not deceive them\nwith open sin alone. So it seems to me that this incarnate demon is doing\nwho has written you under colour of compassion and in holy style, for the\nletter purports to come from a holy and just man, and it does come from\nwicked men, counsellors of the devil, who cripple the common good of the\nChristian congregation and the reform of Holy Church, self-lovers, who\nseek only their own private good. But you can soon discover, father,\nwhether it came from that just man or not. And it seems to me that, for\nthe honour of God, you must investigate.\n\nSo far as I can understand, I do not think the man a servant of God, and\nhis language does not so present him--but the letter seems to me a\nforgery. Nor does he who wrote it understand his trade very well. He ought\nto put himself to school--he seems to have known less than a small child.\n\nNotice, now, most Holy Father: he has made his first appeal to the\ntendency that he knows to be the chief frailty in man, and especially in\nthose who are very tender and pitiful in their natural affections, and\ntender to their own bodies--for such men as these hold life dearer than\nany others. So he fastened on this point from his first word. But I hope,\nby the goodness of God, that you will pay more heed to His honour and the\nsafety of your own flock than to yourself, like a good shepherd, who ought\nto lay down his life for his sheep.\n\nNext, this poisonous man seems on the one hand to commend your return to\nRome, calling it a good and holy thing; but, on the other hand, he says\nthat poison is prepared for you there; and he seems to advise you to send\ntrustworthy men to precede you, who will find the poison on the tables--\nthat is, apparently, in bottles, ready to be administered by degrees,\neither by the day, or the month, or the year. Now I quite agree with him\nthat poison can be found--for that matter, as well on the tables of\nAvignon or other cities as on those of Rome: and prepared for\nadministration slowly, by the month, or the year, or in large quantities,\nas may please the purchaser: it can be found everywhere. So he would think\nit well for you to send, and delay your return for this purpose he\nproposes that you wait till divine judgment fall by this means on those\nwicked men who, it would seem, according to what he says, are seeking your\ndeath. But were he wise, he would expect that judgment to fall on himself,\nfor he is sowing the worst poison that has been sown for a long time in\nHoly Church, inasmuch as he wants to hinder you from following God's call\nand doing your duty. Do you know how that poison would be sown? If you did\nnot go, but sent, as the good man advises you, scandal and rebellion,\nspiritual and temporal, would be stirred up--men finding a lie in you, who\nhold the Seat of Truth. For since you have decided on your return and\nannounced it, the scandal and bewilderment and disturbance in men's hearts\nwould be too great if they found that it did not happen. Assuredly he says\nthe truth: he is as prophetic as Caiphas when he said: \"It is necessary\nfor one man to die that the people perish not.\" He did not know what he\nwas saying, but the Holy Spirit, who spoke the truth by his mouth, knew\nvery well--though the devil did not make him speak with this intention. So\nthis man is likely to be another Caiphas. He prophesies that if you send,\nmen will find poison. Truly so it is; for were your sins so great that you\nstayed and they went, your confidants will find poison bottled in their\nhearts and mouths, as was said. And not only enough for one day, but it\nwould last the month and the year before it was digested. Much I marvel at\nthe words of this man, who commends an act as good and holy and religious,\nand then wants this holy act to be given up from bodily fear! It is not\nthe habit of the servants of God ever to be willing to give up a spiritual\nact or work on account of bodily or temporal harm, even should life itself\nbe spent: for had they done thus, none of them would have reached his\ngoal. For the perseverance of holy and good desire into good works, is the\nthing which is crowned, and which merits glory and not confusion.\n\nTherefore I said to you, Reverend Father, that I desired to see you firm\nand stable in your good resolution (since on this will follow the\npacification of your rebellious sons and the reform of Holy Church) and\nalso to see you fulfil the desire felt by the servants of God, to behold\nyou raise the standard of the most holy Cross against the infidels. Then\ncan you minister the Blood of the Lamb to those wretched infidels: for you\nare cupbearer of that Blood, and hold the keys of it.\n\nAlas, father, I beg you, by the love of Christ crucified, that you turn\nyour power to this swiftly, since without your power it cannot be done.\nYet I do not advise you, sweet father, to abandon those who are your\nnatural sons, who feed at the breasts of the Bride of Christ, for bastard\nsons who are not yet made lawful by holy baptism. But I hope, by the\ngoodness of God, that if your legitimate sons walk with your authority,\nand with the divine power of the sword of holy Writ, and with human force\nand virtue, these others will turn to Holy Church the Mother, and you will\nlegalize them. It seems as if this would be honour to God, profit to\nyourself, honour and exaltation to the sweet Bride of Christ Jesus, rather\nthan to follow the foolish advice of this just man, who propounds that it\nwould be better for you and for other ministers of the Church of God to\nlive among faithless Saracens than among the people of Rome and Italy.\n\nI am pleased by the commendable hunger that he has for the salvation of\nthe infidels, but I am not pleased that he wishes to take the father from\nhis lawful sons, and the shepherd from the sheep gathered in the fold. I\nthink he wants to treat you as the mother treats the child when she wants\nto wean him: she puts something bitter on her bosom, that he may taste the\nbitterness before the milk, so that he may abandon the sweet through fear\nof the bitter; because a child is more easily deluded by bitterness than\nby anything else. So this man wants to do to you, suggesting to you the\nbitterness of poison and of great persecution, to delude the childishness\nof your weak sensuous love, that you may leave the milk through fear: the\nmilk of grace, which follows on your sweet return. And I beg of you, on\nbehalf of Christ crucified, that you be not a timorous child, but manly.\nOpen your mouth, and swallow down the bitter for the sweet. It would not\nbefit your holiness to abandon the milk for the bitterness. I hope by the\ninfinite and inestimable goodness of God, that if you choose He will show\nfavour to both us and to you; and that you will be a firm and stable man,\nunmoved by any wind or illusion of the devil, or counsel of devil\nincarnate, but following the will of God and your good desire, and the\ncounsel of the servants of Jesus Christ crucified.\n\nI say no more. I conclude that the letter sent to you does not come from\nthat servant of God named to you, and that it was not written very far\naway; but I believe that it comes from very near, and from the servants of\nthe devil, who have little fear of God. For in so far as I might believe\nthat it came from that man, I should not hold him a servant of God unless\nI saw some other proof. Pardon me, father, my over-presumptuous speech.\nHumbly I ask you to pardon me and give me your benediction. Remain in the\nholy and sweet grace of God. I pray His infinite Goodness to grant me the\nfavour soon, for His honour, to see you put your feet beyond the threshold\nin peace, repose, and quiet of soul and body. I beg you, sweet father, to\ngrant me audience when it shall please your Holiness, for I would find\nmyself in your presence before I depart. The time is short: therefore,\nwherever it may please you, I wish that it might be soon. Sweet Jesus,\nJesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO MONNA LAPA HER MOTHER\nBEFORE SHE RETURNED FROM AVIGNON\n\n\nCatherine succeeded in her great aim. In September, 1376, Gregory actually\nstarted for Rome. Her mission being ended, Catherine set forth on her\nhomeward journey on the same day as the Pope, though by a different route.\nBut her progress was interrupted at Genoa, where, owing to illness among\nher companions, she was detained for a month in the house of Madonna\nOrietta Scotta. Her prolonged absence seems to have been too much for the\npatience of Monna Lapa, who was always unable to understand in the least\nthe actions of her puzzling though beloved child. Catherine, though lifted\ninto the region of great anxieties and great triumphs, was yet always\ntenderly mindful of the claims of home. Very daughterly, very gently wise,\nis this little letter to the lonely and fretful mother, written when the\nsaint had just passed through those exciting and decisive months at the\nPapal court.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest mother in Christ sweet Jesus: Your poor, unworthy daughter\nCatherine comforts you in the precious Blood of the Son of God. With\ndesire have I desired to see you a true mother, not only of my body but of\nmy soul; for I have reflected that if you are more the lover of my soul\nthan of my body, all disordinate tenderness will die in you, and it will\nnot be such a burden to you to long for my bodily presence; but it will\nrather be a consolation to you, and you will wish, for the honour of God,\nto endure every burden for me, provided that the honour of God be wrought.\nWorking for the honour of God, I am not without the increase of grace and\npower in my soul. Yes, indeed, it is true that if you, sweetest mother,\nlove my soul better than my body, you will be consoled and not\ndisconsolate. I want you to learn from that sweet mother, Mary, who, for\nthe honour of God and for our salvation, gave us her Son, dead upon the\nwood of the most holy Cross. And when Mary was left alone, after Christ\nhad ascended into Heaven, she stayed with the holy disciples; and although\nMary and the disciples had great consolation together, and to separate was\nsorrow, nevertheless, for the glory and praise of her Son, for the good of\nthe whole universal world, she consented and chose that they should go\naway. And she chose the burden of their departure rather than the\nconsolation of their remaining, solely through the love that she had for\nthe honour of God and for our salvation. Now, I want you to learn from\nher, dearest mother. You know that it behoves me to follow the will of\nGod; and I know that you wish me to follow it. His will was that I should\ngo away; which going did not happen without mystery, nor without fruit of\ngreat value. It was His will that I should come, and not the will of man;\nand whoever might say the opposite, it is not the truth. And thus it will\nbehove me to go on, following His footsteps in what way and at what time\nshall please His inestimable goodness. You, like a good, sweet mother,\nmust be content, and not disconsolate, enduring every burden for the\nhonour of God, and for your and my salvation. Remember that you did this\nfor the sake of temporal goods, when your sons left you to gain temporal\nwealth; now, to gain eternal life, it seems to you such an affliction that\nyou say that you will go and run away if I do not reply to you soon. All\nthis happens to you because you love better that part which I derived from\nyou--that is, your flesh, with which you clothed me--than what I have\nderived from God. Lift up, lift up your heart and mind a little to that\nsweet and holiest Cross where all affliction ceases; be willing to bear a\nlittle finite pain, to escape the infinite pain which we merit for our\nsins. Now, comfort you, for the love of Christ crucified, and do not think\nthat you are abandoned either by God or by me. Yet shall you be comforted,\nand receive full consolation; and the pain has not been so great that the\njoy shall not be greater. We shall come soon, by the mercy of God; and we\nshould not have delayed our coming now, were it not for the obstacle we\nhave had in the serious illness of Neri. Also Master Giovanni and Fra\nBartolommeo have been ill.... I say no more. Commend us.... Remain in the\nholy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love!\n\n\n\n\nTO MONNA GIOVANNA DI CORRADO MACONI\n\n\nMonna Lapa was evidently not the only mother in Siena who fretted over the\nlong absence from home of Catherine and her spiritual children. Monna\nGiovanna, of the noble family of the Maconi, longed for the presence of\nCatherine's secretary, her beloved son Stefano. This is the second letter\nwhich Catherine wrote in the effort to reconcile her. We cannot be\nsurprised if she murmured. Stefano had known Catherine for a few months\nonly when she bore him off with her to Avignon. Their relations dated from\nJanuary, 1376, when at his entreaty she healed a feud of long standing\nbetween the Maconi and the rival house of the Tolomei. From this time he\nattached himself to her person, and his devotion to her made him an object\nof ridicule to his bewildered former friends. He was, by all accounts, a\nsingularly attractive and lovable young man--sunny, light-hearted, and\npopular wherever he went. Catherine from the first loved him, as she avows\nin this letter, with especial tenderness. She made him her trusted\nintimate, and from now until shortly before her death he was in almost\nconstant attendance upon her, or when away was still occupied in her\naffairs. Catherine was evidently on intimate and affectionate terms with\nthe rest of the Maconi family also; but it is not strange if Monna\nGiovanna developed a little motherly jealousy, as she saw her brilliant\nson not only absorbed by this new friendship, but borne away to distant\nlands. Catherine's letter is as applicable to-day as then, to all parents\nwhose misguided tenderness would seek to hinder their children in a high\nvocation.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nTo you, dearest sister and daughter in Christ Jesus: I Catherine, servant\nand slave of the servants of Jesus Christ, write in His precious Blood,\nwith desire to see you clothed in the wedding garment. For I consider that\nwithout this garment the soul cannot please its Creator, nor take its\nplace at the Marriage Feast in the enduring life. I wish you, therefore,\nto be clothed in it; and in order that you may clothe you the better, I\nwish you to divest yourself of all self-love according to nature and the\nsenses, which you feel for yourself, your children, and any other created\nthing. You ought to love neither yourself nor anything else apart from\nGod; for it is impossible that a man can serve two masters; if he serve\nthe one, he does not give satisfaction to the other. And there is no one\nwho can serve both God and the world, for they have no harmony with each\nother. The world seeks honour, rank, wealth, sons in high place, good\nbirth, sensuous pleasure and indulgence, all rooted in perverted pride;\nbut God seeks and wants exactly the opposite. He wants voluntary poverty,\na humbled heart, disparagement of self and of every worldly joy and grace;\nthat personal honour be not sought, but the honour of God and the\nsalvation of one's neighbour. Let a man seek only in what way he may\nclothe him in the fire of most ardent charity with the ornament of sweet\nand sincere virtue, with true and holy patience; let him take no revenge\non another for any injury his neighbour may show him, but endure all in\npatience, seeking only to pass sentence on himself, because he sees that\nhe has wronged the Sweet Primal Truth. And what he loves, let him love in\nGod, and apart from God love nothing.\n\nAnd did you say to me, \"In what way should I love?\" I answer you that\nchildren and everything else should be loved for love of Him who created\nthem, and not for love of one's self or the children; and that God should\nnever be wronged for their sake or any other. That is, do not love through\nregard to any utility, nor as your own thing, but as a thing lent to you:\nsince whatever is given us in this life is given for use, as a loan, and\nis left to us so long only as pleases the Divine Goodness which gave it\nus. You should use everything, then, as a steward of Christ crucified,\nspending your temporal substance so far as is possible to you for the\npoor, who stand in the place of God; and so you ought to spend your\nchildren, nourishing and educating them ever in the fear of God, and\nwishing that they should die rather than wrong their Creator. Oh, make a\nsacrifice of yourself and them to God! And if you see that God is calling\nthem, offer no resistance to His sweet will: but if they welcome it with\none hand, do you reach out both like a true loving mother, who loves their\nsalvation; do not desire to shape their lives to suit yourself--for this\nwould be a sign that you loved them apart from God--but with any state to\nwhich God calls them, with that be you content. For a mother who loves her\nchildren according to the wickedness of the world, says many a time: \"It\npleases me well that my children should please God; they can serve Him in\nthe world as well as anywhere else.\" But it happens often to these simple\nmothers, who want to plunge their children in the world, that later they\npossess those children neither in the world nor in God. And it is a just\nthing that they should be deprived of them, spirit and body, since such\nignorance and pride reigns in them that they want to lay down law and rule\nto the Holy Spirit, who is calling them. Such people do not love their\nchildren in God, but with sensuous self-love apart from God, for they love\ntheir bodies more than their souls. Never, dearest sister and daughter in\nChrist sweet Jesus, could he clothe himself in Christ crucified who had\nnot first divested him of this. I hope by the goodness of God that all\nthis will not apply to you, but that you will give yourself and them to\nthe honour and glory of the Name of God, like a true good mother, and so\nshall you be clothed in the Wedding Garment. But in order that you may\nclothe you the better, I want that you should lift your desire and heart\nabove the world and all its doings, and that you should open the eye of\nthe mind to know what love God bears to you, who has given you, for love,\nthe Word, His Only-Begotten Son; and the Son in burning love has given you\nlife, and has sacrificed His Body that He might cleanse us with His Blood.\nIgnorant are we and wretched who nor know nor love so great a benefit! But\nall this is because our eyes are closed; for were they open, and had they\nfastened themselves on Christ crucified, they would not be ignorant nor\nungrateful in presence of so great grace. Therefore I say to you, keep\nyour eyes ever open, and fasten them fixedly on the Lamb that was slain,\nin order that you may never fall into ignorance.\n\nUp, sweetest daughter, let us delay no more! Let us recover the time we\nhave lost, with true and perfect love; so that, clothing ourselves in this\nlife with the garment I spoke of, we may joy and exult at the Marriage\nFeast in the enduring life--you and your husband and your children\ntogether. And comfort you sweetly, and be patient, and do not grow\ndisturbed because I have kept Stefano so long: for I have taken good care\nof him, for by love and tenderness I have become one thing with him,\ntherefore I have treated your things as if they were my own. I think you\nhave not taken this in bad part. I wish to do whatever I can for him and\nfor you, even to death. You, mother, bore him once; and I wish to bear him\nand you and all your family, in tears and sweats, by continual prayers and\ndesire for your salvation.\n\nI say no more. Commend me to Currado, and bless all the rest of the\nfamily, and especially my little new plant, that has just been planted\nanew in the Garden of Holy Church. Be it commended to you, and do you\nbring it up for me virtuously, so that it may shed fragrance among the\nother flowers. God fill you with His most sweet favour. Remain in the holy\nand sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO MESSER RISTORO CANIGIANI\n\n\nApart from her relations with Religious seeking to follow the Counsels,\nCatherine directed the life of a number of devout laymen. Among these was\nRistoro Canigiani, an honourable citizen of Florence, whose younger\nbrother, Barduccio, became one of her secretaries, and was with her at her\ndeath. In the first letter to Ristoro here given, we see that he had\nalready become Catherine's disciple. He had evinced his sincerity by\nforgiving his enemies--a feat more practical and difficult for most men in\nthose days than now--by withdrawing in a measure from society--\n(ecclesiastical, one notes, as well as secular)--and by embracing the\nsimple life, selling his superfluous possessions. In the second letter\ngiven, he has evidently advanced in experience. Like many religious souls\nsince his day, he suffers from scruples lest he be unworthy to receive the\nHoly Communion. Catherine handles his difficulties tenderly and wisely, in\nwords which all anxious souls would do well to take to heart. She has no\nreproofs for this excellent man, only applause and encouragement. It is\nnoteworthy that neither in these letters nor in any others does she seek\nto induct Ristoro into that region of ecstatic mystery where she herself\nlived, and whither she was wont to expect--often in vain--certain of her\nfriends to follow her. The standard which she sets for this devout layman\ncould not be better summed up than in the familiar words: \"A sober, godly,\nand righteous life.\"\n\nIn other letters to Ristoro she seeks to inspire him with a fervour of\ncharity by very beautiful meditations, in which she presents the love of\nfriends and family as sanctified and glorified by its relation to the all-\nenfolding Love from which all pure human affection must proceed. In her\nattitude toward the natural world and its claims, Catherine again recalls\nSt. Bernard, who, in naming the degrees of love, starts from an hypothesis\nwhich sets forth natural things, not as evil and destroying, but good, and\nwaiting their transfiguration. Like poor Francesca, but with a conception\nmore pure, Catherine rings the changes on the words \"amore,\" \"amare.\"\n\"Perocche, condizione \u00e9 del' amore d' amare quando si sente amare, d'\namare tutte le cose che ama colui ch' egli ama. E per\u00f2, \u00e0 mano che l'\nanima ha conosciuto l' amore del suo Creatore verso di lui, l' ama: e\namandolo, ama tutte quelle cose che Dio ama.\" \"For it is of the nature of\nlove, to love when it feels itself loved, and to love all things loved of\nits beloved. So when the soul has by degrees known the love of its Creator\ntoward it, it loves Him, and, loving Him, loves all things whatsoever that\nGod loves.\" ... As we read, we recognize once more how far is this great\nMystic from the cold asceticism that has sometimes been attributed to her.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest brother in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of\nthe servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood, with\ndesire to see you constant and persevering in virtue; for it is not he who\nbegins who is crowned, but only he who perseveres. For Perseverance is the\nQueen who is crowned; she stands between Fortitude and true Patience, but\nshe alone receives a crown of glory. So I want you, dearest brother, to be\nconstant and persevering in virtue, that you may receive the reward of\nyour every labour. I hope in the great goodness of God that He will\nfortify you in such wise that neither demon nor fellow-creature can make\nyou look back to your vomit.\n\nYou seem, according to what you write me, to have made a good beginning,\nin which I rejoice greatly for your salvation, seeing your holy desire.\nFirst, you say that you have forgiven every man who had wronged you or\nwished to wrong you. This is a thing which is very necessary, if you wish\nto have God in your soul through grace, and to be at rest even according\nto the world. For he who abides in hate is deprived of God and is in a\nstate of condemnation, and has in this life the foretaste of hell; for he\nis always gnawing at himself, and hungers for vengeance, and abides in\nfear. Believing to slay his enemy, he has first killed himself, for he has\nslain his soul with the knife of hate. Such men as these, who think to\nslay their enemy, slay themselves. He who truly forgives through the love\nof Christ crucified, has peace and quiet, and suffers no perturbation; for\nthe wrath that perturbs is slain in his soul, and God the Rewarder of\nevery good gives him His grace and at the last eternal life. What joy the\nsoul, then, receives, and gladness and rest in its conscience, the tongue\ncould never tell. And even according to the world, very great honour is\ngiven to the man who through love of virtue and magnanimity does not\ngreedily desire to wreak vengeance on his enemy. So I summon you and\ncomfort you, to persevere in this holy resolution.\n\nTo demand and obtain your own in a reasonable way, this you can do with\ngood conscience; whoever wants to can do it: for a man is not bound to\nabandon his possessions more than he chooses; but he who would choose to\nabandon them would reach a much greater perfection. It is well and\nexcellent not to go to the Bishop's house nor to the palace, but to stay\npeaceably at home. For if other people get excited, we are weak, and often\nwe find our own soul excited, and doing unjust and irrational things, one\nto show that he knows more than another, and one from appetite for money.\nYes, it is better to keep away from the place.\n\nBut I add one thing: that when such poor men and women as are clearly in\nthe right, and have no one to help them, show us the reason why they have\nno money, it would be greatly to the honour of God for you to undertake\ntheir cause, from the impulse of charity, like St. Ives, who in his time\nwas the lawyer of the poor. Consider that the deed of pity, and\nministering to the poor with those faculties which God has given you, is\nvery pleasing to God, and salvation to your soul. Therefore St. Gregory\nsays that it is impossible that a pitiful man should perish with an evil,\nthat is, an eternal death. This, then, pleases me much, and I beg you to\ndo it.\n\nIn all your works put God before your eyes, saying to yourself when\nintemperate appetite would lift its head against the resolution you have\nmade: \"Consider, my soul, that the eye of God is upon thee, and sees the\nsecret of thy heart. Thou art mortal, for thou must die, and knowest not\nwhen; and it shall befit thee to render account before the highest Judge\nof what thou shalt do--a Judge who punishes every fault and rewards every\ngood deed.\" In this wise, if you put on the bit it will not slip off,\nseparating from the will of God.\n\nYou ought to give satisfaction to your soul as soon as you can, and\nunburden your conscience of what you feel it burdened with. Give it\nsatisfaction, either for the trouble it has felt in giving up temporal\npossessions, or for the other annoyances that others have given it. And\nhave pardon asked fully from everyone, in order that you may always remain\nin the joy of charity with your neighbour. As for selling the goods which\nyou have over and above, and the showy garments (which are very harmful,\ndearest brother, and a means of penetrating the heart with vanity, and\nnourishing it with pride, since they make a man seem to be more and bigger\nthan others, boasting of what one ought not to boast of; so it is great\nshame to us, false Christians, to see our Head tormented, and to abide\nourselves in such luxuries: so St. Bernard says, that it is not fitting\nfor limbs to be delicate beneath a thorn-crowned Head),--I say that you do\nvery well to find a remedy for this. But clothe you as you need, modestly,\nat no immoderate price, and you will greatly please God. And, so far as\nyou can, make your wife and your sons do the same; so that you may be to\nthem example and teacher, as the father should be, who should educate his\nsons with the words and deeds of virtue.\n\nI add one thing; that you abide in the state of marriage, with fear of\nGod, and treat it with reverence as a sacrament, and not with intemperate\ndesire. Hold in due reverence the days ordered by Holy Church, like a\nreasonable man, and not a brute beast. Then from yourself and her, like\ngood trees, you will bring forth good fruits.\n\nYou will do very well to refuse offices; for a man seldom fails to give\noffence in them. It ought to weary you simply to hear them mentioned. Let\nthe dead, then, bury themselves, and do you exert yourself, in liberty of\nheart, to please God, loving Him above everything in the desire of virtue,\nand your neighbour as yourself, fleeing the world and its delights.\nRenounce your sins and your own fleshly instincts, ever bringing back to\nmemory the favours of God, and especially the favour of the Blood, shed\nfor us with such fire of love.\n\nAgain, it is needful for you, if you wish your soul to preserve grace and\ngrow in virtue, to make your holy confession often for your joy, that you\nmay wash your soul's face in the Blood of Christ. At least once a month,\nsince indeed we soil it every day. If more, more; but less it seems to me\nought not to be done. And rejoice in hearing the Word of God. And when the\nseason shall come that we are reconciled with our Father, do you\ncommunicate on the solemn Feasts, or at least once a year: rejoicing in\nthe Office, and hearing Mass every day; and if you cannot every day, at\nleast you must make an effort, just as far as you can, on the days which\nare ordered by Holy Church, to which we are bound.\n\nPrayer must not be far from you. Nay, on the due and ordered hours, so far\nas you can, seek to withdraw a little, to know yourself, and the wrongs\ndone to God, and the largess of His goodness, which has worked and is\nworking so sweetly in you; opening the eye of your mind in the light of\nmost holy faith, to behold how beyond measure God loves us; love which He\nshows us through the means of His only-begotten Son. And I beg that, if\nyou are not saying it already, you should say every day the office of the\nVirgin, that she may be your refreshment and your advocate before God. As\nto ordering your life, I beg you to do it. Fast on Saturday, in reverence\nfor Mary. And never give up the days commanded by Holy Church, unless of\nnecessity. Avoid being at intemperate banquets, but live moderately, like\na man who does not want to make a god of his belly. But take food for\nneed, and not for the wretched pleasure it gives. For it is impossible\nthat any man who does not govern himself in eating should keep himself\ninnocent.\n\nBut I am sure that the infinite goodness of God, as regards this and all\nthe rest, will make you yourself adopt that rule which will be needful for\nyour salvation. And I will pray, and will make others pray, that He grant\nyou perfect perseverance until death, and illumine you concerning that\nwhich you have to do for your salvation. I say no more to you. Remain in\nthe holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest son in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of the\nservants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood: with desire\nto see you free from every particle of self-love, so that you may not lose\nthe light and knowledge which come from seeing the unspeakable love which\nGod has for you. And because it is light which makes us know this, and\nfalse love is what takes light from us, therefore I have very great desire\nto see it quenched in you. Oh, how dangerous this self-love is to our\nsalvation! It deprives the soul of grace, for it takes from it the love of\nGod and of its neighbour, which makes us live in grace. It deprives us of\nlight, as we said, because it darkens the eye of the mind, and when the\nlight is taken away we walk in darkness, and do not know what we need.\n\nWhat do we need to know? The great goodness of God, and His unspeakable\nlove toward us; the perverse law which always fights against the Spirit,\nand our own wretchedness. In this knowledge the soul begins to render His\ndue to God; that is, glory and praise to His Name, loving Him above\neverything, and the neighbour as one's self, with eager desire for virtue;\nand the soul bestows hate and displeasure on itself, hating in itself\nvice, and its own sensuousness, which is the cause of every vice. The soul\nwins all virtue and grace in the knowledge of itself, abiding therein with\nlight, as was said. Where shall the soul find the wealth of contrition for\nits sins, and the abundance of God's mercy? In this House of Self-\nKnowledge.\n\nNow let us see whether we find it in ourselves or not. Let us talk\nsomewhat about it. For, as you wrote me, you have a desire to feel\ncontrition for your sins, and not being able to feel it, you give up for\nthis reason Holy Communion. Now we shall see whether you ought to give it\nup for this.\n\nYou know that God is supremely good, and loved us before we were: and is\nEternal Wisdom, and His Power in virtue is immeasurable: so for this\nreason we are sure that He has power, knowledge, and will to give us what\nwe need. Well we see, in proof, that He gives us more than we know how to\nask, and that which was not asked by us. Did we ever ask Him that He\nshould create us reasonable creatures, in His own image and likeness,\nrather than brute beasts? No. Or that He should create us by Grace by the\nBlood of the Word, His only-begotten Son, or that He should give us\nHimself for food, perfect God and perfect Man, flesh and blood, body and\nsoul, united to Deity? Beyond these most high gifts, which are so great,\nand show such fire of love toward us, that there is no heart so hard that\nits hardness and coldness would not melt by considering them at all:\ninfinite are the gifts and graces which we receive from Him without\nasking.\n\nThen, since He gives so much without our asking--how much the more will He\nfulfil our desires when we shall desire a just thing of Him? Nay, who\nmakes us desire and ask it? Only He. Then, if He makes us ask it, it is a\nsign that He means to fulfil it, and give us what we seek.\n\nBut you will say to me: \"I confess that He is what thou sayest. But how\ncomes it that many a time I ask, both contrition and other things, and\nthey seem not to be given me?\" I answer you: It may be it is through a\ndefect in him who asks, asking imprudently, with words alone and not with\nhis whole heart--and of such as these Our Saviour said that they call Him\nLord, Lord, but shall not be known of Him--not that He does not know them,\nbut for their fault they shall not be known of His mercy. Or, the man who\nprays asks for something which, if he had it, would be injurious to his\nsalvation. So that, when he does not have what he asks, he really has it,\nbecause he asks for it thinking that it would be for his good; but if he\nhad it, it would be to his harm, and it is for his good not to have it; so\nGod has satisfied the intention with which he asked it. So that on God's\nside we always have our prayer; but this is the case, that God knows the\nsecret and the open, and is aware of our imperfection; so He sees that if\nHe gave us the grace at once as we ask it, we should do like an unclean\ncreature, who, rising from the sweetest honey, does not mind afterwards\nlighting on a fetid object. God sees that we do so many a time. For,\nreceiving His graces and benefits, sharing the sweetness of His charity,\nwe do not mind afterward alighting on miserable things, turning back to\nthe filth of the world. Therefore, God sometimes does not give us what we\nask as soon as we should like, to make us increase in the hunger of our\ndesire, because He rejoices and pleases Himself in seeing the hunger of\nHis creatures toward Him.\n\nSometimes He will do us the grace by giving it to us in effect though not\nin feeling. He uses this means with foresight, because He knows that if a\nman felt himself to possess it, either he would slacken the pull of\ndesire, or would fall into presumption; therefore He withdraws the\nfeeling, but not the grace. There are others who both receive and feel,\naccording as it pleases the sweet goodness of our Physician to give to us\nsick folk; and He gives to everyone in the way that our sickness needs.\nYou see, then, that in any case the yearning of the creature, with which\nit asks of God, is always fulfilled. Now we see what we ought to seek, and\nhow prudently.\n\nIt seems to me that the Sweet Primal Truth teaches us what we ought to\nseek when in the holy Gospel, reproving man for the intemperate zeal which\nhe bestows on gaining and holding the honours and riches of the world, He\nsaid: \"Take no thought for the morrow. Its own care suffices for the day.\"\nHere He shows us that we should consider prudently the shortness of time.\nThen He adds: \"Seek first the Kingdom of Heaven; for your heavenly Father\nknows well that you have need of these lesser things.\" What is this\nkingdom, and how is it sought? It is the kingdom of eternal life, and the\nkingdom of our own soul, for this kingdom of the soul, unless it is\npossessed through reason, never becomes part of the kingdom of God. With\nwhat is it sought? Not only with words--we have already said that such as\nthese are not recognized by God--but with the yearning of true and real\nvirtues. Virtue is what seeks and possesses this kingdom of heaven;\nvirtue, which makes a man prudent, so that he works for the honour of God\nand the salvation of himself and his neighbour, with prudence and\nmaturity. Prudently he endures his neighbour's faults; prudently he rules\nthe impulse of charity, loving God above everything, and his neighbour as\nhimself. This is the rule: that he hold him ready to give bodily life for\nthe salvation of souls, and temporal goods to help the body of his\nneighbour. Such a rule is set by prudent charity. Were he imprudent, it\nwould be just the opposite as with many who use a foolish and crazy sort\nof charity, who many a time, to help their neighbour--I speak not of his\nsoul, but of his body--are ready to betray their own souls, by publishing\nabroad lies, giving false witness. Such men as these lose charity, because\nit is not built upon prudence.\n\nWe have seen that we must seek the kingdom of Heaven prudently: now I\nanswer you about the attitude we should hold toward the Holy Communion,\nand how it befits us to take it. We should not use a foolish humility, as\ndo secular men of the world. I say, it befits us to receive that sweet\nSacrament, because it is the food of souls without which we cannot live in\ngrace. Therefore no bond is so great that it cannot and must not be\nbroken, that we may come to this sweet Sacrament. A man must do on his\npart as much as he can, and that is enough. How ought we to receive it?\nWith the light of most holy faith, and with the mouth of holy desire. In\nthe light of faith you shall contemplate all God and all Man in that Host.\nThen the impulse that follows the intellectual perception, receives with\ntender love and holy meditation on its sins and faults, whence it arrives\nat contrition, and considers the generosity of the immeasurable love of\nGod, who in so great love has given Himself for our food. Because one does\nnot seem to have that perfect contrition and disposition which he himself\nwould wish, he must not therefore turn away; for goodwill alone is\nsufficient, and the disposition which on his part exists.\n\nAgain I say, that it befits us to receive as was imaged in the Old\nTestament, when it was commanded that the Lamb should be eaten roasted and\nnot seethed; whole and not in part; girded and standing, staff in hand;\nand the blood of the Lamb should be placed on the stone of the threshold.\nThus it befits us to receive this Sacrament: to eat it roasted, and not\nseethed; for were it seethed there would be interposed earth and water--\nthat is, earthly affections and the water of self-love. Therefore it must\nbe roasted, so that there shall be nothing between. We take it so when we\nreceive it straight from the fire of divine charity. And we ought to be\ngirt with the girdle of conscience, for it would be very shocking that one\nshould advance to so great cleanliness and purity with mind or body\nunclean. We ought to stand upright, that is, our heart and mind should be\nwholly faithful and turned toward God; with the staff of the most holy\nCross, where we find the teaching of Christ crucified. This is the staff\non which we lean, which defends us from our foes, the world, the devil,\nand the flesh. And it befits us eat it whole and not in part: that is, in\nthe light of faith, we should contemplate not only the Humanity in this\nsacrament, but the body and soul of Christ crucified, wrought into unity\nwith Deity, all God and all Man. We must take the Blood of this Lamb and\nput it upon our forehead--that is, confess it to every rational being,\nand never deny it, for pain or for death. Thus sweetly it befits us to\nreceive this Lamb, prepared in the fire of charity upon the wood of the\nCross. Thus we shall be found signed with the seal of Tau, and shall never\nbe struck by the avenging angel.\n\nI said that it did not befit us, nor do I wish you, to do as many\nimprudent laymen, who pass over what is commanded them by Holy Church,\nsaying: \"I am not worthy of it.\" Thus they spend a long time in mortal sin\nwithout the food of their souls. Oh, foolish humility! Who does not see\nthat thou art not worthy? At what time dost thou await worthiness? Do not\nawait it; for thou wilt be just as worthy at the end as at the beginning.\nFor with all our just deeds, we shall never be worthy of it. But God is He\nwho is worthy, and makes us worthy with His worth. His worth grows never\nless. What ought we to do? Make us ready on our part, and observe His\nsweet commandment. For did we not do so, giving up communion, in such wise\nbelieving to flee from fault, we should fall into fault.\n\nTherefore I conclude, and will that such folly be not in you; but that you\nmake you ready, as a faithful Christian, to receive this Holy Communion as\nI said. You will do it just as perfectly as you are in true knowledge of\nyourself; not otherwise. For if you abide in that knowledge, you will see\neverything clearly. Do not slacken your holy desire, for pain or loss, or\ninjury or ingratitude of those whom you have served; but manfully, with\ntrue and long perseverance you shall persevere till death. Thus I beg you\nto do by the love of Christ crucified. I say no more. Remain in the holy\nand sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO THE ANZIANI AND CONSULS AND GONFALONIERI OF BOLOGNA\n\n\nCatherine lays down admirable political principles, for the fourteenth or\nfor the twentieth century. Yet times have changed, and we can hardly\nimagine a modern city council giving serious welcome to such a letter as\nthis. It is a fair specimen of the letters which she was in the habit of\nsending to the governments of the Italian towns--direct, simple, high-\nminded presentations of the fundamental virtues on which the true\nprosperity of a State must rest. She was capable, as she showed during the\nSchism, of detailed political sagacity: but she never lost the womanly\nconviction that moral generalizations would convict men of sin and point\nthem to the path of holiness. Nor was she wholly wrong. Her letters seem\nto have been received with respect, and not to have failed in\neffectiveness. On the present occasion, the authorities of Bologna have\nevidently sent asking her prayers. These she promises gladly, but adds\nthat the Bolognese must not expect \"the servants of God\" to do all their\nwork for them.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest brothers in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of\nthe servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood: with\ndesire to see you divested of the old man and clothed with the new--\ndivested, that is, of the world and the fleshly self-love which is the old\nsin of Adam, and clothed with the new Christ sweet Jesus, and His tender\ncharity. When this charity is in the soul, it seeks not its own, but is\nliberal and generous to render His due to God: to love Him above\neverything else, and to hate its own lower nature; and to love itself for\nGod, rendering praise and glory to His Name: to render its neighbour\nbenevolence, with fraternal charity and well-ordered love. For charity\nought to be regulated: that is, a man must not wrong himself by sinning,\nin order to rescue one soul--nay more, in order, were it possible, to save\nthe whole world; since it is not lawful to commit the least fault to\nachieve a great virtue. And our body should not be sacrificed to rescue\nthe body of our neighbour; but we ought surely to sacrifice our bodily\nlife for the salvation of souls, and temporal possessions for the welfare\nand life of our neighbour. So you see that this charity should be and is\nregulated in the soul.\n\nBut those who are deprived of charity and full of self-love do just the\nopposite; and as they are extravagant in their affections, so they are in\nall their works. Thus we see that men of the world serve and love their\nneighbour without virtue, and in sin; and to serve and please them, they\ndo not mind disserving and displeasing God, and injuring their own souls.\nThis is that perverted love which often kills soul and body--robs us of\nlight and casts us into darkness, robs us of life and condemns us to\ndeath, deprives us of the conversation of the Blessed and leads us to that\nof Hell. And if a man does not correct himself while he has time, he\ndestroys the shining pearls of holy justice, and loses the warmth of true\ncharity and obedience.\n\nNow on whatever side we turn, we see every kind of rational creature\nlacking in all virtue, and arrayed in this evil fleshly self-love. If we\nturn to the prelates, they devote themselves so much to their own affairs\nand live so luxuriously, that they do not seem to care when they see their\nsubjects in the hands of demons. As to the subjects, it is just the same,\nthey do not care to obey either the civil law or the divine, nor do they\ncare to serve one another unless for their own profit. And yet this kind\nof love, and the union of those who are united by natural love and not by\ntrue charity, does not suffice; such friendship suffices and lasts only so\nlong as pleasure and enjoyment lasts, and the personal profit derived from\nit.\n\nSo, when a man is lord, he fails in holy justice. And this is the reason:\nthat he fears to lose his dignity, and, so as not to excite annoyance, he\ngoes about cloaking and hiding men's faults, spreading ointment over a\nwound at the time when it ought to be cauterized. Oh, miserable my soul!\nWhen the man ought to apply the flame of divine charity, and burn out the\nfault with holy punishment and correction inflicted by holy justice, he\nflatters and pretends that he does not see. He behaves thus toward those\nwho he sees might impair his dignity; but as to the poor, who count for\nlittle and whom he does not fear, he shows very great zeal for justice,\nand without any mercy or pity imposes most severe punishment for a little\nfault. What causes such injustice? Self-love. But the wretched men of the\nworld, because they are deprived of truth, do not recognize truth, either\nas regards their salvation or as regards the true preservation of their\nlordship. For did they know the truth, they would see that only living in\nthe fear of God preserves their state and the city in peace: they would\npreserve holy justice, rendering his due to every subject, they would show\nmercy on whoso deserved mercy, not by passionate impulse, but by regard\nfor truth; and justice they would show on whoso deserved it, built upon\nmercy, and not on passionate wrath. Nor would they judge by hearsay, but\nby holy and true justice; and they would heed the common good, and not any\nprivate good, and would appoint officials and those who are to rule the\ncity, not by party or prejudice, not for flatteries or bribery, but with\nvirtue and reason alone; and they would choose men mature and excellent,\nand not mere children--such as fear God and love the Commonwealth and not\ntheir own particular advantage. Now in this way, their state and the city\nis preserved in peace and unity. But unjust deeds, and living in cliques,\nand the appointment to rule and government of men who do not know how to\nrule themselves or their families--unjust and violent, passionate lovers\nof themselves--these are the methods that make them lose both the state of\nspiritual grace and their temporal state. To such as these it may be said:\n\"In vain thou dost labour to guard thy city if God guard it not: if thou\nfear not God, and hold Him not before thee in thy works.\"\n\nSo you see, dearest brothers and lords, that self-love ruins the city of\nthe soul, and ruins and overturns the cities of earth. I will that you\nknow that nothing has so divided the world into every kind of people as\nself-love, from which injustice is for ever born.\n\nApparently, dearest brothers, you have a desire to increase and preserve\nthe welfare of your city; and this desire moved you to write to me, poor\nwretch that I am, full of faults. I heard and saw that letter with tender\nlove, and with wish to satisfy your desires, and to exert me, with what\ngrace God shall give me, to offer you and your city before God with\ncontinual prayer. If you shall be just men, and carry on your government\nas I said above, not in passion nor for self-love or your private good,\nbut for the universal good founded on the Rock Christ sweet Jesus, and if\nyou do all your works in His fear, then by means of prayer you shall\npreserve the state, the peace and unity of your city. Therefore I beg you\nby the love of Christ crucified--for there is no other way--that since you\nhave the help of the prayers of the servants of God, you should not fail\non your side in what is needful. For did you fail you might to be sure be\nhelped a little by the prayers, but not so much that it would not soon\ncome to nothing; because you ought to help, on your part, to bear this\nweight.\n\nSo, considering that if you were clothed in fleshly and personal love, you\ncould not help the servants of God, and that he who does not help himself\nwith virtue and holy zeal for justice, cannot help his brothers' city, I\nsay that it is needful for you to be clothed with the New Man, Christ\nsweet Jesus, and His immeasurable charity. But we cannot be clothed\ntherein unless first we divest us--nor could I divest me unless I see how\nharmful it is to me to hold my old sin, and how useful the new garment of\ndivine charity. For when man has seen his sin, he hates it, and strips it\noff; and loves, and in love arrays him in the garment of virtue woven with\nthe love of the New Man. Now this is the Way. Therefore I said to you that\nI desired to see you divested of the old man and clothed with the New Man,\nChrist crucified; and in this way you shall win and keep the state of\ngrace and the state of your city, and you will never fail in the reverence\ndue to Holy Church, but with pleasing manner will render your due and keep\nyour state. I say no more. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God.\nSweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO NICHOLAS OF OSIMO\n\n\nArdour is the first trait which one feels in approaching the character of\nCatherine; but the second is fidelity. Neither the one nor the other\nflagged till the hour of her death. In the grave and tranquil words of\nthis letter we can see, yet more clearly, perhaps, than in the fervid\nutterances of hours of excitement or crisis, how profound was her\nconception of the Church, how fixed her resolution to sacrifice herself\nfor \"that sweet Bride.\" Gregory has returned to Italy, and Catherine is\nknowing a brief respite from public responsibilities in the comparative\nretirement of Siena. But peace is not yet made with Florence, nor is the\nreform of the Church even begun. Her heart, however, refuses to harbour\ndiscouragement, and seeking as ever to hold others to the same steady\npitch of faith and consecration which she herself maintained, she writes\nto the secretary of the Pope. He appears to have been a holy man who\nshared her aspirations, but he was evidently disheartened by the apparent\nfailure of his efforts and by the necessary absorption in external things\nof a life dedicated to public affairs. Catherine's keen analysis leaves\nNicholas of Osimo no excuse for indolence. Her letter, especially in the\nearlier portion, reads like a paraphrase of Newman's fine verses on\n\"Sensitiveness\":--\n\n  \"Time was, I shrank from what was right\n    For fear of what was wrong:\n  I would not mingle in the fight\n    Because the foe was strong:\n\n  \"But now I cast that finer sense\n    And sorer shame aside:\n  Such dread of sin was indolence,\n    Such aim at heaven was pride.\n\n  \"So, when my Saviour calls, I rise,\n    And calmly do my best,\n  Leaving to Him, with silent eyes\n    Of hope and fear, the rest.\n\n  \"I step, I mount, where He has led;\n    Men count my haltings o'er;\n  I know them; yet, though self I dread,\n    I love His precept more.\"\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest and most reverend father in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine,\nservant and slave of the servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His\nprecious Blood: with desire to see you a firm pillar, that shall never\nmove, except in God; never avoiding or refusing the toils and labours laid\non you in the mystical body of Holy Church, the sweet Bride of Christ--\nneither for the ingratitude and ignorance you found among those who feed\nin that garden, nor from the weariness that might afflict us from seeing\nthe affairs of the Church get into a disorderly state. For it often\nhappens that when a man is spending all his efforts on something, and it\ndoes not come about in the way or to the end that he wants, his mind falls\ninto weariness and sadness, as if he reflected and said: \"It is better for\nthee to give up this enterprise which thou hast begun and worked on so\nlong, and it is not yet come to an end: and to seek peace and quiet in thy\nown mind.\" Then the soul ought to reply boldly, hungering for the honour\nof God and the salvation of souls, and decline personal consolation, and\nsay: \"I will not avoid or flee from labour, for I am not worthy of peace\nand quiet of mind. Nay, I wish to remain in that state which I have\nchosen, and manfully to give honour to God with my labour, and my labour\nto my neighbour.\" Yet sometimes the devil, to make our enterprises weary\nus, when we feel little peace of mind, will make a suggestion to the man,\nsaying in his thought: \"I am doing more harm in this thing than I am\ndeserving good. So I would gladly run away from it, not on account of the\nlabour, but because I do not want to do harm.\" Oh, dearest father, do not\nyield either to yourself or the devil, nor believe him, when he puts such\nthoughts into your heart and mind; but embrace your labour with gladness\nand ardent desire, and without any servile fear.\n\nAnd do not be afraid to do wrong in this; for wrong is shown to us in a\ndisordered and perverse will. For when the will is not settled in God,\nthen one does wrong. The time of the soul is not lost because it may be\ndeprived of consolations, and of saying its office and many psalms, and\ncannot say them at the right time or place, or with that peace of mind\nwhich it would itself wish. Nay, it is occupied wholly for God. So it\nought not to feel pain in its mind--especially when it is labouring and\nworking for the Bride of Christ. For in whatever way or concerning\nwhatever matter we are labouring for her, it is so deserving and gives\nsuch pleasure to God, that our intellect does not suffice to see or\nimagine it.\n\nI recall, dearest father, a servant of God to whom it was shown how\npleasing this service is to Him; I tell this that you may be encouraged to\nbear labours for Holy Church. This servant of God, as I understood, having\none time among others an intense desire to shed her blood and her life and\nannihilate her very consciousness for Holy Church, the Bride of Christ,\nlifted the eye of her mind to know that she had no being in herself, and\nto know the goodness of God toward her--that is, to see how God through\nlove had given her being and all gifts and graces that follow from being.\nSo, seeing and tasting such love and such depths of mercy, she saw not how\nshe could respond to God except by love. But because she could be of no\nuse to Him, she could not show her love; therefore she gave herself to\nconsidering whether she found anyone to love through Him, by whom she\nmight show love. So she saw that God loved supremely His rational\ncreatures, and she found the same love to all that was given to herself,\nfor all are loved of God. This was the means she found (which showed\nwhether she loved God or not) by which she could be of use. So then she\nrose ardently, full of charity to her neighbours, and conceived such love\nfor their salvation that she would willingly have given her life for it.\nSo the service which she could not render to God she desired to render to\nher neighbour. And when she had realized that it befitted her to respond\nby means of her neighbour, and thus to render Him love for love--as God by\nmeans of the Word, His Son, has shown us love and mercy--so, seeing that\nby means of desire for the salvation of souls, giving honour to God and\nlabour to one's neighbour, God was well pleased--she looked then to see in\nwhat garden and upon what table the neighbour might be enjoyed.\n\nThen Our Saviour showed her, saying: \"Dearest daughter, it befits thee to\neat in the garden of my Bride, upon the table of the most holy Cross,\ngiving thy suffering, and crucified desire, and vigils and prayers, and\nevery activity that thou canst, without negligence. Know that thou canst\nnot have desire for the salvation of souls without having it for Holy\nChurch; for she is the universal body of all creatures who share the light\nof holy faith, who can have no life if they are not obedient to My Bride.\nTherefore, thou oughtest to desire to see thy Christian neighbours, and\nthe infidels and every rational creature, feeding in this garden, under\nthe yoke of holy obedience, clothed in the light of living faith, and with\ngood and holy works--for faith without works is dead. This is the common\nhunger and desire of that whole body. But now I say and will that thou\ngrow yet more in hunger and desire, and hold thee ready to lay down thy\nlife, if need be, in especial, in the mystical body of Holy Church, for\nthe reform of My Bride. For when she is reformed, the profit of the whole\nworld will follow. How? Because through darkness, and ignorance, and self-\nlove, and impurities, and swollen pride, darkness and death are born in\nthe souls of her subjects. So I summon thee and my other servants to\nlabour in desire, in vigils, and prayer, and every other work, according\nto the skill which I give you; for I tell thee that the labour and service\noffered her are so pleasing to me, that not only they shall be rewarded in\nMy servants who have a sincere and holy intention, but also in the\nservants of the world, who often serve her through self-love, though also\nmany a time through reverence for Holy Church. Wherefore I tell thee that\nthere is no one who serves her reverently--so good I hold this service--\nwho shall not be rewarded; and I tell thee that such shall not see eternal\ndeath. So, likewise, in those who wrong and serve ill and irreverently My\nBride, I shall not let that wrong go unpunished, by one way or another.\"\n\nThen, as she saw such greatness and generosity in the goodness of God, and\nperceived what ought to be done to please Him more, the flame of desire so\nincreased that had it been possible for her to give her life for Holy\nChurch a thousand times a day, and from now till the final judgment day,\nit seemed to her that it would be less than a drop of wine in the sea. And\nso it really is.\n\nI wish you, then, and summon you, to labour for her as you have always\ndone; yea, you are a pillar, who have placed yourself to support and help\nthis Bride. So you ought to be, as I said--so that neither tribulation nor\nconsolation should ever stir you. Nor because many contrary winds are\nblowing to hinder those who walk in the way of truth, ought we for any\nreason to look back. Therefore I said that I desired to see you a firm\npillar. Up, then, dearest and sweetest father: because it is our hour to\ngive for that Bride honour to God and labour to her. I beg you, by the\nlove of Christ crucified, to pray the holy father that he adopt zealously,\nwithout negligence, every remedy which can be found consistent to his\nconscience for the reform of Holy Church and peace to this great war which\nis damning so many souls, since for all negligence and lukewarmness God\nwill rebuke Him most severely, and will demand the souls who through this\nare perishing. Commend me to him; and I ask him humbly for his\nbenediction. I say no more. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God.\nSweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO MISSER LORENZO DEL PINO OF BOLOGNA,\nDOCTOR IN DECRETALS (WRITTEN IN TRANCE)\n\n\nThe familiar but ever-noble theology with which this letter opens, leads\nfirst to a severe description of the unworthy and mercenary man, which is\nfollowed by a temperately wise discussion of the true use of worldly\npleasures and goods. \"Whatever God has made is good and perfect,\" says\nCatherine--\"except sin, which was not made by Him, and so is not worthy of\nlove.\" The modern religious Epicureanism which would applaud this\nsentiment would, however, be less contented with the sequel; for Catherine\nnever forgets the anti-modern position that, though possession be\nlegitimate to the Christian, it is, after all, \"more perfect to renounce\nthan to possess,\" and that the man who has preserved true detachment of\nmind towards this world's goods will, by inevitable logic, come to hunger,\nsooner or later, for detachment in deed.\n\nIt is a curiously tranquil letter to have been written in trance. Whatever\nthe mysterious condition may have been, it evidently did not rob Catherine\nof her mental sanity and sobriety. The Doctor of Laws to whom it was\naddressed was a person of considerable importance in the public and legal\nlife of his time. One cannot help suspecting a personal bearing in the\nsevere description of the hard man--evidently a lawyer--who makes the poor\nwait before giving them counsel: yet, perhaps, the suspicion is\nunwarranted, and the letter carried to Misser Lorenzo nothing more\nsearching than a general account of the temptations to which his\nprofession was subject.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest brother and son in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and\nslave of the servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood:\nwith desire to see you a lover and follower of truth and a despiser of\nfalsehood. But this truth cannot be possessed or loved if it is not known.\nWho is Truth? God is the Highest and Eternal Truth. In whom shall we know\nHim? In Christ sweet Jesus, for He shows us with His Blood the truth of\nthe Eternal Father. His truth toward us is this, that He created us in His\nimage and likeness to give us life eternal, that we might share and enjoy\nHis Good. But through man's sin this truth was not fulfilled in him, and\ntherefore God gave us the Word His Son, and imposed this obedience on Him,\nthat He should restore man to grace through much endurance, purging the\nsin of man in His own Person, and manifesting His truth in His Blood. So\nman knows, by the unsearchable love which he finds shown to him through\nthe Blood of Christ crucified, that God nor seeks nor wills aught but our\nsanctification. For this end we were created; and whatever God gives or\npermits to us in this life, He gives that we may be sanctified in Him. He\nwho knows this truth never jars with it, but always follows and loves it,\nwalking in the footsteps of Christ crucified. And as this sweet loving\nWord, for our example and teaching, despised the world and all delights,\nand chose to endure hunger and thirst, shame and reproach, even to the\nshameful death on the Cross, for the honour of the Father and our\nsalvation, so does he who is the lover of the truth which he knows in the\nlight of most holy faith, follow this way and these footsteps. For without\nthis light it could not be known; but when a man has the light, he knows\nit, and knowing it, loves it, and becomes a lover of what God loves, and\nhates what God hates.\n\nThere is this difference between him who loves the truth and him who hates\nit. He who hates the truth, lies in the darkness of mortal sin. He hates\nwhat God loves, and loves what God hates. God hates sin, and the\ninordinate joys and luxuries of the world, and such a man loves it all,\nfattening himself on the world's wretched trifles, and corrupting himself\nin every rank. If he has an office in which he ought to minister in some\nway to his neighbour, he serves him only so far as he can get some good\nfor himself out of it, and no farther, and becomes a lover of himself.\nChrist the Blessed gave His life for us, and such a man will not give one\nword to serve his neighbour unless he sees it paid, and overpaid. If the\nneighbour happens to be a poor man who cannot pay, he makes him wait\nbefore telling him the truth, and often does not tell it to him at all,\nbut makes fun of him; and where he ought to be pitiful and a father of the\npoor, he becomes cruel to his own soul because he wrongs the poor. But the\nwretched man does not see that the Highest Judge will return to him\nnothing else than what he receives from him, since every sin is justly\npunished and every good rewarded. Christ embraced voluntary poverty and\nwas a lover of continence; the wretched man who has made himself a\nfollower and lover of falsehood does just the contrary; not only does he\nfail to be content with what he has, or to refrain through love of virtue,\nbut he robs other people. Nor does he remain content in the state of\nmarriage, in which, if it is observed as it should be, a man can stay with\na good conscience; but he plunges into every wretchedness, like a brute\nbeast, without moderation, and as the pig rolls in filth, so does he in\nthe filth of impurity.\n\nBut we might say: \"What shall I do, who have riches, and am in the state\nof marriage, if these things bring damnation to my soul?\" Dearest brother,\na man can save his soul and receive the life of grace into himself, in\nwhatever condition he may be; but not while he abides in guilt of mortal\nsin. For every condition is pleasing to God, and He is the acceptor, not\nof men's conditions, but of holy desire. So we may hold to these things\nwhen they are held with a temperate will; for whatever God has made is\ngood and perfect, except sin, which was not made by Him, and therefore is\nnot worthy of love. A man can hold to riches and worldly place if he\nlikes, and he does not wrong God nor his own soul; but it would be greater\nperfection if he renounced them, because there is more perfection in\nrenunciation than in possession. If he does not wish to renounce them in\ndeed, he ought to renounce and abandon them with holy desire, and not to\nplace his chief affections upon them, but upon God alone; and let him keep\nthese things to serve his own needs and those of his family, like a thing\nthat is lent and not like his own. So doing, he will never suffer pain\nfrom any created thing; for a thing that is not possessed with love is\nnever lost with sorrow. So we see that the servants of the world, lovers\nof falsehood, endure very great sufferings in their life, and bitter\ntortures to the very end. What is the reason? The inordinate love they\nhave for themselves and for created things, which they love apart from\nGod. For the Divine Goodness has permitted that every inordinate affection\nshould be unendurable to itself.\n\nSuch a man as this always believes falsehood, because there is no\nknowledge of truth in him. And he thinks to hold to the world and abide in\ndelights, to make a god of his body, and of the other things that he loves\nimmoderately a god, and he must leave them all. We see that either he\nleaves them by dying, or God permits that they be taken from him first.\nEvery day we see it. For now a man is rich, and now poor; to-day he is\nexalted in worldly state, and to-morrow he is cast down; now he is well,\nand now ill. So all things are mutable, and are taken from us when we\nthink to clasp them firmly; or we are snatched away from them by death.\n\nSo you see that all things pass. Then, seeing that they pass, they should\nbe possessed with moderation in the light of reason, loved in such wise as\nthey should be loved. And he who holds them thus will not hold them with\nthe help of sin, but with grace; with generosity of heart, and not with\navarice; in pity for the poor, and not in cruelty; in humility, not in\npride; in gratitude, not in ingratitude: and will recognize that his\npossessions come from his Creator, and not himself. With this same\ntemperate love he will love his children, his friends, his relatives, and\nall other rational beings. He will hold the condition of marriage as\nordained, and ordained as a Sacrament; and will have in respect the days\ncommanded by Holy Church. He will be and live like a man, and not a beast;\nand will be, not indeed ascetic, but continent and self-controlled. Such a\nman will be a fruitful tree, that will bear the fruits of virtue, and will\nbe fragrant, shedding perfume although planted in the earth; and the seed\nthat issues from him will be good and virtuous.\n\nSo you see that you can have God in any condition; for the condition is\nnot what robs us of Him, but the evil will alone, which, when it is set on\nloving falsehood, is ill-ordered and corrupts a man's every work. But if\nhe loves truth, he follows the footsteps of truth; so he hates what truth\nhates and loves what truth loves, and then his every work is good and\nperfect. Otherwise it would not be possible for him to share the life of\ngrace, nor would any work of his bear living fruit.\n\nSo, knowing no other way, I said that I desired to see you a lover and\nfollower of truth and despiser of falsehood; hating the devil the father\nof lies, and your own lower nature, that follows such a parent; and loving\nChrist crucified, who is Way, Truth and Life. For He who walks in Him\nreaches the Light, and is clothed in the shining garment of charity,\nwherein are all virtues found. Which charity and love unspeakable, when it\nis in the soul, holds itself not content in the common state, but desires\nto advance further. Thus from mental poverty it desires to advance to\nactual, and from mental continence to actual; to observe the Counsels as\nwell as the Commandments of Christ; for it begins to feel aversion for the\ndunghill of the world. And because it sees the difficulty of being in\nfilth and not defiled, it longs with breathless desire and burning charity\nto free itself by one act from the world so far as possible. If it is not\nable to escape in deed, it studies to be perfect in its own place. At\nleast, it does not lack desire.\n\nThen, dearest brother, let us sleep no more, but awaken from slumber. Open\nthe eye of the mind in the light of faith, to know, to love, to follow\nthat truth which you shall know through the Blood of the humble and loving\nLamb. You shall know that Blood in the knowledge of yourself, that the\nface of your soul may be washed therein. And it is ours, and none can take\nit from us unless we choose. Then be negligent no more; but like a vase,\nfill yourself with the Blood of Christ crucified. I say no more. Remain in\nthe holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nLETTERS WRITTEN FROM ROCCA D'ORCIA\n\n\nThese informal little notes were written probably in the autumn of 1377\nwhile Catherine was making a visit to the feudal stronghold of the\nSalimbeni family, about twenty-three miles from Siena, among the foothills\nof Monte Amiata. The young \"populana\" was admitted to the intimate\ncounsels of these great nobles, leaders of the opposition to the popular\ngovernment with which her own sympathies would naturally have lain. It\nmust have been a new experience to the town-bred girl--life in this\ncastle-eyrie among the hills, where mercenary troops and rude peasants\nthronged the courtyard, and manners, one surmises, must have been at once\nmore artful and more brutal than among her bourgeois friends. We hear of\npicturesque scenes, where men and women afflicted of demons are brought\nwrithing into her presence, to be welcomed, cared for, and healed. She had\nthe comfort of the company of several confessors; the first of these\nletters shows them labouring with homely eagerness, quaintly expressed,\nfor the religious welfare of the wild soldiery. Absorbed, as ever, in the\ninward life, Catherine was as tranquilly at home here in the mountains,\namong the great ladies of the Salimbeni family, as in Siena or in the\npapal court.\n\nMeantime, good Monna Lapa grumbled as of old over the separation from her\ndaughter; and evidently Catherine's sister mantellate were also\ndisconsolate. She writes them very gently, very simply, trying to\nreconcile them by the reminder of like sorrows borne by that first group\nof disciples to whom she and her friends loved to compare themselves. To\nher beloved Alessa she expresses herself more freely, giving just the\ndetails of health and mental state that intimate love would crave. These\nwere sad days in her private life; for she had parted from Fra Raimondo,\nwho had been called to other service. Her words to Alessa reflect her\nsadness, and also her entire submission. It is noticeable that she\nrespects the secrets of her hosts with dignity, giving no hint on the\nmatters that occupied her beyond the reticent statement to her mother: \"I\nbelieve that if you knew the circumstances you yourself would send me\nhere.\"\n\nThis is not the only time by any means that Catherine had to meet similar\ncomplaints. Wherever she bore her strong vitality, limitless sympathy and\npeculiar charm, new friends gathered around her and clung to her with an\nunreasoning devotion that cried out in exacting hunger for her presence,\nand often proved to her a real distress. For Catherine, swiftly responsive\nas she was to individual affections, perfect in loyalty as she always\nshowed herself, moved, nevertheless, in a region where unswerving service\nof a larger duty might at any moment force her to refuse to gratify, at\nleast in outward ways, the personal claim. This was very hard for her\nfriends to understand; one is sorry for them. At the same time, one feels\nmore than a little pathos in her efforts to bring these simpler minds into\nunderstanding sympathy with that high sense of vocation which underlay all\nher doings: \"Know, dearest mother, that I, your poor little daughter, am\nnot put on earth for anything else than this; to this my Creator has\nchosen me. I know you are content that I should obey Him.\" But Monna Lapa\nnever was quite content--not to the very end.\n\n\n\nTO MONNA LAPA HER MOTHER AND TO MONNA CECCA\nIN THE MONASTERY OF SAINT AGNES AT MONTEPULCIANO, WHEN SHE WAS AT ROCCA\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest mother and daughter in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant\nand slave of the servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious\nBlood: with desire to see you so clothed in the flames of divine charity\nthat you may bear all pain and torment, hunger and thirst, persecution and\ninjury, derision, outrage and insult, and everything else, with true\npatience; learning from the Lamb suffering and slain, who ran with such\nburning love to the shameful death of the Cross. Do you then keep in\ncompanionship with sweetest Mother Mary, who, in order that the holy\ndisciples might seek the honour of God and the salvation of souls,\nfollowing the footsteps of her sweet Son, consents that they should leave\nher presence, although she loved them supremely: and she stays as if\nalone, a guest and a pilgrim. And the disciples, who loved her beyond\nmeasure, yet leave her joyously, enduring every grief for the honour of\nGod, and go out among tyrants, enduring many persecutions. And if you ask\nthem: \"Why do you carry yourselves so joyously, and you are going away\nfrom Mary?\" they would reply: \"Because we have lost ourselves, and are\nenamoured of the honour of God and the salvation of souls.\" Well, dearest\nmother and daughter, I want you to do just so. If up to now you have not\nbeen, I want you to be now, kindled in the fire of divine charity, seeking\nalways the honour of God and the salvation of souls. Otherwise you would\nfall into the greatest grief and tribulation, and would drag me down into\nthem. Know, dearest mother, that I, your poor little daughter, am not put\non earth for anything else; to this my Creator has elected me. I know you\nare content that I should obey Him. I beg you that if I seemed to stay\naway longer than pleased your will, you will be contented; for I cannot do\notherwise. I believe that if you knew the circumstances you yourself would\nsend me here. I am staying to find help if I can for a great scandal. It\nis no fault of the Countess, though; therefore do you all pray God and\nthat glorious Virgin to send us a good result. And do you, Cecca, and\nGiustina, drown yourselves in the Blood of Christ crucified; for now is\nthe time to prove the virtue in your soul. God give His sweet and eternal\nbenediction to you all. I say no more. Remain in the holy and sweet grace\nof God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO MONNA CATARINA OF THE HOSPITAL AND TO GIOVANNA DI CAPO IN SIENA\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest daughters in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of\nthe servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood: with\ndesire to see you obedient daughters, united in true and perfect charity.\nThis obedience and love will dissipate all your suffering and gloom; for\nobedience removes the thing which gives us suffering, that is our own\nperverse will, which is wholly destroyed in true holy obedience. Gloom is\nscattered and consumed by the impulse of charity and unity, for God is\ntrue charity and highest eternal light. He who has this true light for his\nguide, cannot miss the road. Therefore, dearest daughters, I want, since\nit is so necessary, that you should study to lose your own will and to\ngain this light.\n\nThis is the doctrine which I remember has always been given you, although\nyou have learned little of it. That which is not done, I beg you to do,\ndearest daughters. If you did not, you would abide in continual\nsufferings, and would drag poor me, who deserve every suffering, into them\ntoo.\n\nWe must do for the honour of God as the holy apostles did. When they had\nreceived the Holy Spirit, they separated from one another, and from that\nsweet mother Mary. Although it was their greatest delight to stay\ntogether, yet they gave up their own delight, and sought the honour of God\nand the salvation of souls. And although Mary sends them away from her,\nthey do not therefore hold that love is diminished, or that they are\ndeprived of the affection of Mary. This is the rule that we must take to\nourselves. I know that my presence is a great consolation to you.\nNevertheless, as truly obedient, you should not seek your own consolation,\nfor the honour of God and the salvation of souls: and do not give place to\nthe devil, who makes it look to you as if you were deprived of the love\nand devotion which I bear to your souls and bodies. Were it otherwise,\ntrue love would not be built on you. I assure you that I do not love you\notherwise than in God. Why do you fall into such unregulated suffering\nover things which must necessarily be so? Oh, what shall we do when it\nshall befit us to do great deeds if we fail so in the little ones? We\nshall have to be together or separated according as things shall befall.\nJust now our sweet Saviour wills and permits that we be separated for His\nhonour.\n\nYou are in Siena, and Cecca and Grandma are in Montepulciano. Frate\nBartolomeo and Frate Matteo will be there and have been there. Alessa and\nMonna Bruna are at Monte Giove, eighteen miles from Montepulciano; they\nare with the Countess and Monna Lisa. Frate Raimondo and Frate Tommaso and\nMonna Tomma and Lisa and I are at Rocca among the Free-lances. And so many\nincarnate demons are being eaten up that Frate Tommaso says that his\nstomach aches over it! With all this they cannot be satisfied, and they\nare hungry for more, and find work here at a good price. Pray the Divine\nGoodness to give them big, sweet and bitter mouthfuls! Think that the\nhonour of God and the salvation of souls is being sweetly seen. You ought\nnot to want or desire anything else. You could do nothing more pleasing to\nthe highest eternal will of God, and to mine, than feeling thus. Up, my\ndaughters, begin to sacrifice your own wills to God! Don't be ready always\nto stay nurselings--for you should get the teeth of your desire ready to\nbite hard and musty bread, if needs be.\n\nI say no more. Bind you in the sweet bands of love, so you will show that\nyou are daughters--not otherwise. Comfort you in Christ sweet Jesus, and\ncomfort all the other daughters. We will come back as soon as we can,\naccording as it shall please the Divine Goodness. Remain in the holy and\nsweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO MONNA ALESSA\nCLOTHED WITH THE HABIT OF SAINT DOMINIC, WHEN SHE WAS AT ROCCA\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest daughter in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of\nthe servants of Jesus Christ, write to thee in His precious Blood: with\ndesire to see thee follow the doctrine of the Spotless Lamb with a free\nheart, divested of every creature-love, clothed only with the Creator, in\nthe light of most holy faith. For without the light thou couldst not walk\nin the straight way of the Slain and Spotless Lamb. Therefore my soul\ndesires to see thee and the others clean and virile, and not blown about\nby every wind that may befall. Beware of looking back, but go on steadily,\nholding in mind the teaching that has been given thee. Be sure to enter\nevery day anew into the garden of thy soul with the light of faith to pull\nup every thorn that might smother the seed of the teaching given thee, and\nto turn over the earth; that is, every day do thou divest thy heart. It is\nnecessary to divest it over and over; for many a time I have seen people\nwho seemed to have divested themselves, whom I have found clothed in sin,\nby evidence rather of deed than of words. The opposite might appear by\ntheir words, but deeds showed their affections. I want, then, that thou\nshouldst divest thy heart in truth, following Christ crucified. And let\nsilence abide on thy lips. I have taken note; for I believe that the other\nwoman holds to it very little. I am very sorry for that. If it is so, as\nit seems to me, my Creator wills that I should bear it, and I am content\nto do so: but I am not content with the wrong done to God.\n\nThou didst write me that God seemed to constrain thee in thy orisons to\npray for me. Thanks be to the Divine Goodness, who shows such unspeakable\nlove to my poor soul! Thou didst tell me to write thee if I were suffering\nand had my usual infirmities at this time. I reply that God has cared for\nme marvellously, within and without. He has cared very much for my body\nthis Advent, causing the pains to be diverted by writing; it is true that,\nby the goodness of God, they have been worse than they used to be. If He\nmade them worse, He saw to it that Lisa was cured as soon as Frate Santi\nfell ill--for he has been at the point of death. Now, almost miraculously,\nhe has grown so much better that he can be called cured. But apparently my\nBridegroom, Eternal Truth, has wished to put me to a very sweet and\ngenuine test, inward and outward, in the things which are seen and those\nwhich are not--the latter beyond count the greater. But while He was\ntesting us, He has cared for us so gently as tongue could not tell.\nTherefore I wish pains to be food to me, tears my drink, sweat my\nointment. Let pains make me fat, let pains cure me, let pains give me\nlight, let pains give me wisdom, let pains clothe my nakedness, let pains\nstrip me of all self-love, spiritual and temporal. The pain of lacking\nconsolations from my fellow-creatures has called me to consider my own\nlack of virtue, recognizing my imperfection, and the very perfect light of\nSweet Truth, who gives and receives, not material things, but holy\ndesires: Him who has not withdrawn His goodness toward me for my little\nlight or knowledge, but has had regard only to Himself, the One supremely\nGood.\n\nI beg thee by the love of Jesus Christ crucified, dearest my daughter, do\nnot slacken in prayer: nay, redouble it--for I have greater need thereof\nthan thou seest--and do thou thank the Goodness of God for me. And pray\nHim to give me grace that I may give my life for Him, and to take away, if\nso please Him, the burden of my body. For my life is of very little use to\nanyone else; rather is it painful and oppressive to every person, far and\nnear, by reason of my sins. May God by His mercy take from me such great\nfaults, and for the little time that I have to live, may He make me live\nimpassioned by the love of virtue! And may I in pain offer before Him my\ndolorous and suffering desires for the salvation of all the world and the\nreformation of Holy Church! Joy, joy in the Cross with me! So may the\nCross be a bed where the soul may rest: a table where may be tasted\nheavenly food, the fruit of patience with quietness and assurance.\n\nThou didst send to me saying ... I was consoled by this thing, both by her\nlife, hoping that she is correcting herself and living with less vanity of\nheart than she has done till now, and also by the children's having been\nbrought to the light of Holy Baptism. May God give them His sweetest\ngrace, and grant them death if they are not to be good! Bless them, and\ncomfort her, in Christ sweet Jesus: and tell her to live in the holy and\nsweet fear of God, and to recognize the grace she has received from God,\nwhich has not been small but very great. Were she to be ungrateful, it\nwould much displease God, and perhaps He would not leave her unpunished.\n\nI commend to thee ... I have had no news at all of them, I do not know\nwhy. The will of God be done! Our Saviour has put me on the Island, and\nthe winds beat from every side. Let everyone rejoice in Christ crucified,\nhowever far one from the other. Shut thee into the house of self-\nknowledge. I say no more. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet\nJesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO GREGORY XI\n\n\nThere is no evidence as to the date of this letter, but the tone is such\nthat Catherine's latest editor is probably right in placing it after the\nreturn of the Pope to Italy. It suggests that a long relation is drawing\nto a close, and closing, so far as Catherine is concerned, in\ndisappointment. Never, in her earlier relations with Gregory, would she\nhave gone such lengths as here, in her amazing hint that he would better\nresign the Papacy if he finds himself unable to sustain the moral burdens\nit imposes. The Pope is at Rome, but he has changed his sky and not his\nmind. Catherine's letter is a brief and powerful summary of oft-reiterated\npleas. In the solemnity and authority of its adjurations, in the\ndistinctness of its accusations, it is surely one of the most surprising\nepistles ever written by a devout and wholly faithful subject to her\nacknowledged head. Such a letter proceeds, indeed, from a spiritual region\nwhere all earthly distinctions--ecclesiastical as well as intellectual or\nsocial--are lost to sight, and the illiterate daughter of the dyer can\nrebuke and exhort as by her natural right him whom with unwavering faith\nshe believed to be the God-appointed father of all Christian people.\nCatherine's patience, one feels, is near the breaking point: and heart-\nbreak for her is in truth not many years away.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nMost holy and sweet father, your poor unworthy daughter Catherine in\nChrist sweet Jesus, commends herself to you in His precious Blood: with\ndesire to see you a manly man, free from any fear or fleshly love toward\nyourself, or toward any creature related to you in the flesh; since I\nperceive in the sweet Presence of God that nothing so hinders your holy,\ngood desire and so serves to hinder the honour of God and the exaltation\nand reform of Holy Church, as this. Therefore, my soul desires with\nimmeasurable love that God by His infinite mercy may take from you all\npassion and lukewarmness of heart, and re-form you another man, by forming\nin you anew a burning and ardent desire; for in no other way could you\nfulfil the will of God and the desire of His servants. Alas, alas,\nsweetest \"Babbo\" mine, pardon my presumption in what I have said to you\nand am saying; I am constrained by the Sweet Primal Truth to say it. His\nwill, father, is this, and thus demands of you. It demands that you\nexecute justice on the abundance of many iniquities committed by those who\nare fed and pastured in the garden of Holy Church; declaring that brutes\nshould not be fed with the food of men. Since He has given you authority\nand you have assumed it, you should use your virtue and power: and if you\nare not willing to use it, it would be better for you to resign what you\nhave assumed; more honour to God and health to your soul would it be.\n\nAnother demand that His will makes is this: He wills that you make peace\nwith all Tuscany, with which you are at strife; securing from all your\nwicked sons who have rebelled against you whatever is possible to secure\nwithout war--but punishing them as a father ought to punish a son who has\nwronged him. Moreover, the sweet goodness of God demands from you that you\ngive full authority to those who ask you to make ready for the Holy\nCrusade--that thing which appears impossible to you, and possible to the\nsweet goodness of God, who has ordained it, and wills that so it be.\nBeware, as you hold your life dear, that you commit no negligence in this,\nnor treat as jests the works of the Holy Spirit, which are demanded from\nyou because you can do them. If you want justice, you can execute it. You\ncan have peace, withdrawing from the perverse pomps and delights of the\nworld, preserving only the honour of God and the due of Holy Church.\nAuthority also you have to give peace to those who ask you for it. Then,\nsince you are not poor but rich--you who bear in your hand the keys of\nHeaven, to whom you open it is open, and to whom you shut it is shut--if\nyou do not do this, you would be rebuked by God. I, if I were in your\nplace, should fear lest divine judgment come upon me. Therefore I beg you\nmost gently on behalf of Christ crucified to be obedient to the will of\nGod, for I know that you want and desire no other thing than to do His\nwill, that this sharp rebuke fall not upon you: \"Cursed be thou, for the\ntime and the strength entrusted to thee thou hast not used.\" I believe,\nfather, by the goodness of God, and also taking hope from your holiness,\nthat you will so act that this will not fall upon you.\n\nI say no more. Pardon me, pardon me; for the great love which I bear to\nyour salvation, and my great grief when I see the contrary, makes me speak\nso. Willingly would I have said it to your own person, fully to unburden\nmy conscience. When it shall please your Holiness that I come to you, I\nwill come willingly. So do that I may not appeal to Christ crucified from\nyou; for to no other can I appeal, for there is no greater on earth.\nRemain in the holy and sweet grace of God. I ask you humbly for your\nbenediction. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO RAIMONDO OF CAPUA\nOF THE ORDER OF THE PREACHERS\n\n\nThis letter confirms what history elsewhere indicates--that Gregory, after\nhis return to Italy, turned against Catherine. She no longer addresses her\n\"dear Babbo\" personally, with the old happy familiarity; rather, she sends\nthrough Fra Raimondo formal and almost tremulous messages to \"his\nHoliness, the Vicar of Christ.\" Raimondo, apparently from his connection\nwith her, is evidently included in the papal displeasure. Catherine writes\nto give him courage and comfort; in her touching advice as to the best way\nof preparing one's self to meet contentions and injustice, we may\nrecognize the secret source of her own rare self-control.\n\nCatherine's attitude toward the angered Pope is a compound of contrition\nand firmness. No words could express swifter readiness to accept rebuke or\na more passionate humility: none could more vigorously maintain the\nunwelcome convictions which had given offence. There are various surmises\nas to the exact occasion of the misunderstanding to which this letter\nrefers: were we to add one, we might suspect that the audacity of the\npreceding letter had been too much, even for Gregory. But the general\nsituation speaks for itself. Gregory was strong enough, under her\ninspiration, to make the great physical and moral effort of returning to\nItaly: he was, as we have seen, not strong enough to cope with what he\nfound there. Enfeebled by ill-health, hampered by his lack of knowledge of\nItalian, rendered desperate by the difficulties he encountered, it is\nsmall wonder that, as many another weak nature would have done, he turned\nin rage or cold displeasure against the instrument of his return. There is\na story that Gregory on his deathbed warned the bystanders against\nCatherine, and whether it be true or not, it suggests the contemporary\nimpression as to his tone toward her during his last days. Here is sad\nending to a relation that during its earlier phases possessed a singular\nbeauty. How sorely Catherine must have been hurt we may well imagine. Her\nbrief triumph was all turned to bitterness: less, we may be sure, from her\npersonal loss of the Pope's confidence--though she was human enough to\nfeel this keenly--than from the utter failure of the hopes she had built\non his return.\n\nIn this letter her genuine self-abasement before Gregory's displeasure\nchanges with dramatic suddenness to another tone. The accuser becomes the\njudge once more, and speaks with the old authority: \"God demands that you\ndo this--as you know that you were told.\" Her personal feeling for the man\nbreaks forth in the appeal: \"To whom shall I have recourse should you\nabandon me? Who would help me?\" But in the same breath comes her\nmagnificent assurance, that though she may offend Christ's Vicar, the Head\nof the Church, she may yet flee with confidence to Christ Himself, and\nrest secure upon the bosom of His Bride.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest and sweetest father in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant\nand slave of the servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious\nBlood: with desire to see you a true combatant against the wiles and\nvexations of the devil, and the malice and persecution of men, and against\nyour own fleshly self-love, which is an enemy that, unless a man drives it\naway by virtue and holy hate, prevents him from ever being strong in the\nother battles which we encounter every day. For self-love weakens us, and\ntherefore it is imperative that we drive it away with the strength of\nvirtue, which we shall gain in the unspeakable love that God has shown us,\nthrough the Blood of His only-begotten Son. This love, drawn from the\ndivine love, gives us light and life; light, to know the truth when\nnecessary to our salvation and to win great perfection, and to endure with\ntrue patience and fortitude and constancy until death--for by such\nfortitude, won from the light that makes us know the truth, we win the\nlife of divine grace. Drink deep, then, in the Blood of the Spotless Lamb,\nand be a faithful servant, not faithless, to your Creator. And fear not,\nnor turn back, for any battle or gloom that may come upon you, but\npersevere in faith till death; for well you know that perseverance will\ngive you the fruit of your labours.\n\nI have understood from a certain servant of God who holds you in continual\nprayer before Him, that you have met very great battles, and that gloom\nhas fallen upon your mind through the crafts and wiles of the devil, who\nwishes to make you see wrong as right and right as wrong; this he does in\norder that you may fail in your going and not reach the goal. But comfort\nyou, for God has provided and shall provide, and His providence shall not\nbe lacking. Be sure that in all things you have recourse to Mary,\nembracing the holy Cross, and never let yourself fall into confusion of\nmind, but sail in a stormy sea in the ship of divine mercy. I understand:\nif from men religious or secular, even in the mystical body of Holy\nChurch, you have suffered persecution or displeasure, or have been visited\nwith the indignation of the Vicar of Christ, either on your own account,\nor if you have had something to bear on my account with all these people--\nyou are not to resist, but bear it patiently, leaving at once, and going\ninto your cell, there to know yourself in holy meditation; reflecting that\nGod is making you worthy to endure for the love of truth, and to be\npersecuted for His Name, deeming yourself in true humility worthy of\npunishment and unworthy to gain results. And do all the things that you\nhave to do prudently, holding God before your eyes; do and say what you\nhave to say and do in the Presence of God and of your own thought with the\nhelp of holy prayer. There shall you find the Master, the Holy Spirit,\nrich in clemency, who shall pour upon you a light of wisdom that shall\nmake you discern and choose what shall be to his honour. This is the\ndoctrine given to us by the Sweet Primal Truth, caring for our need with\nmeasureless love.\n\nIf it happened, dearest father, that you found yourself in the presence of\nhis Holiness the Vicar of Christ, our very sweet and holy father, humbly\ncommend me to him. I hold myself in fault before his Holiness for much\nignorance and negligence which I have committed against God, and for\ndisobedience against my Creator, who summoned me to cry aloud with\npassionate desire, and to cry before Him in prayer, and to put myself in\nword and in bodily presence close to His Vicar. In all possible ways I\nhave committed measureless faults, on account of which, yes, on account of\nmy many iniquities, I believe that he has suffered many persecutions, he\nand Holy Church. Wherefore if he complains of me he is right, and right in\npunishing me for my defects. But tell him that up to the limits of my\npower I shall strive to correct my faults, and to fulfil more perfectly\nhis obedience. So I trust by the divine goodness that He will turn the\neyes of His mercy upon the Bride of Christ and His Vicar, and upon me,\nfreeing me from my defects and ignorance; but upon His Bride, by giving\nher the refreshment of peace and renewal, with much endurance (for in no\nway without toils can be uprooted the many thorny faults that choke the\ngarden of Holy Church), and that God will give him grace in those parts\nwhere he wants to be a manly man, and not to look back, for any toil or\npersecution that may befall him from his wicked sons; constant and\npersevering, let him not avoid weariness, but let him throw himself like a\nlamb into the midst of the wolves, with hungry desire for the honour of\nGod and the salvation of souls, putting far from him care for temporal\nthings, and watching over spiritual things alone. If he does so, as divine\ngoodness demands of him, the lamb will lord it over the wolves, and the\nwolves will turn into lambs; and thus we shall see the glory and praise of\nthe name of God, the good and peace of Holy Church. In no other way can\nthese be won; not through war, but through peace and benignity, and such\nholy spiritual punishment as a father should inflict on a son who does\nwrong.\n\nAlas, alas, alas, most holy father! The first day that you came to your\nown place, you should have done so. I hope in the goodness of God and in\nyour holiness that what is not done you will do. In this way both\ntemporalities and spiritualities are won back. God demanded that you do\nthis--as you know that you were told--that you care for the reformation of\nHoly Church, punishing its sins and establishing good shepherds; and that\nyou make holy peace with your wicked sons in the best way and most\npleasing to God that could be done; so that then you might see to\nuplifting with your arms the standard of the most holy Cross against the\ninfidels. I believe that our negligence and our not doing what could be\ndone--not cruelly nor quarrelsomely, but in peace and benignity--(always\npunishing a man who has done wrong, not in proportion to his deserts, for\nhe could not endure what he deserves, but in proportion to what the sick\nman is in a condition to bear)--are, perhaps, the reason why such\ndisaster and loss and irreverence toward Holy Church and her ministers has\nbefallen. And I fear that unless a remedy is found by doing what has been\nleft undone, our sins may deserve so much that we shall see greater\nmisfortunes; such I say as would grieve us much more than to lose temporal\npossessions. Of all these evils and sorrows, wretched I am the cause,\nthrough my little virtue and my great disobedience.\n\nMost holy father, look in the light of reason and truth at your\ndispleasure against me, not as punishment, but as displeasure. To whom\nshall I have recourse should you abandon me? Who would help me? To whom do\nI flee, should you cast me out? My persecutors pursue me, and I flee to\nyou, and to the other sons and servants of God. Should you abandon me,\nassuming displeasure and wrath against me, I will hide me in the wounds of\nChrist crucified, whose Vicar you are: and I know that He will receive me,\nfor He wills not the death of a sinner. And, when I am received by Him,\nyou will not drive me out; nay, we shall abide in our own place to fight\nmanfully with the weapons of virtue for the sweet Bride of Christ. In her\nI wish to end my life, with tears, with sweats, with sighs, giving my\nblood and the marrow of my bones. And should all the world drive me out, I\nwill not care, reposing with plaints and great endurance on the breast of\nthat sweet Bride. Pardon, most holy father, all my ignorance, and the\nwrong that I have done to God and to your Holiness. It is Truth that\nexcuses me and sets me free; Truth Eternal. Humbly I ask your benediction.\n\nTo you, dearest father (Raimondo), I say: when it is possible to you, keep\na manly heart in the presence of his Holiness, without any pain or servile\nfear; remain first a while in your cell, in the presence of Mary and of\nthe most holy Cross, in holy and humble prayer, in true knowledge of\nyourself, with living faith and will to endure; and then go (to the Pope)\nin security. And do what you can for the honour of God and the salvation\nof souls, to the point of death. Announce to him what I write you in this\nletter as the Holy Spirit shall guide you. I say no more. Remain in the\nholy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO URBAN VI\n\n\nIn March, 1378, Gregory died, and was succeeded by the Archbishop of Bari,\nwho took the name of Urban VI. The sensitive, cultured, vacillating\nFrenchman gave place to a Neapolitan of coarse physique--a man personally\nvirtuous, but, as history shows us, extraordinarily harsh and violent in\ndisposition. \"It seems,\" the Prior of the Island of Gorgona wrote with\nalarming candour to Catherine, \"that our new Christ on earth is a terrible\nman.\"\n\nCatherine was at Florence at the time--having been sent thither by\nGregory, who, however alienated from her personally, seems till the end to\nhave valued her services. The following is the first letter from her to\nUrban which we possess. It is evident that she has as yet little knowledge\nof the new Pope at first hand. She writes to him in much the same strain\nas that in which she was accustomed to address his predecessor; only the\nsense of a new hearer inspires her, after the rather dull opening of the\nletter, with fresh fervour in recapitulating the sins and woes of the\nChurch. Possibly, also, there is a little more insistence than usual on\nthe plea that mercy temper justice, in the case of the rebellious Tuscan\ncities. The sensible policy for such a situation could hardly be better\nsummed up than in her concise phrase: \"Receive from a sick man what he can\ngive you.\"\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nMost holy and dear father in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and\nslave of the servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood:\nwith desire to see you founded upon true and perfect charity, so that,\nlike a good shepherd, you may lay down your life for your sheep. And\ntruly, most holy father, only he who is founded upon charity is ready to\ndie for the love of God and the salvation of souls: because he is free\nfrom self-love. For he who abides in self-love is not ready to give his\nlife; and not to speak of his life, apparently he is not willing to bear\nthe least little pain: for he is always afraid for himself, lest he lose\nhis bodily life and his private consolations. So he does whatever he may\ndo imperfectly and corruptly, because his chief impulse, through which he\nacts, is corrupt. In whatever state he may be, shepherd or subject, he\nshows little virtue. But the shepherd who is established in true charity\ndoes not do so; his every work is good and perfect, because his impulse is\nabsolutely one with the perfection of divine charity. Such a man as this\nfears neither the devil nor his fellow-beings, but only his Creator; he\ndoes not mind the detractions of the world, nor shames, nor insults, nor\njests, nor the criticisms of his subordinates; who take offence, and turn\nto criticizing when they are reproved by their prelate. But like a manly\nman, clothed in the fortitude of charity, he does not care.\n\nNor, therefore, does he suppress the flame of holy desire, nor cast from\nhim the pearl of justice, lucid and one with mercy, which he bears upon\nhis breast. Were justice without mercy, it would abide in the shadows of\ncruelty, and would turn into injustice. And mercy without justice toward\none's subordinate would be like ointment on a wound that ought to be\ncauterized: if ointment is applied without cauterizing it rots more than\nit heals. But when both are joined they give life to the prelate who uses\nthem, and health to the subject if he is not a member of the devil,\nentirely unwilling to correct himself. However, if the subject failed to\ncorrect himself a thousand times over, the prelate ought not to give up\ncorrecting him, and his virtue will be none the less because that wicked\nman does not profit by it. In this way works the pure and clean charity of\na soul that cares for itself not for its own sake, but for God, and seeks\nGod for the glory and praise of His name, in so far as it sees that He is\nworthy of being loved for His infinite goodness--nor seeks its neighbour\nfor its own sake, but for God, wishing to render him that service which it\ncannot render to God. For it recognizes that He is our God, who has no\nneed of us. Therefore it studies with great zeal to be useful to its\nneighbour, and especially to the subjects committed to it. And it does not\ndraw back from pursuing the salvation of their souls and bodies for any\ningratitude found in them, nor for the threats or flatteries of man; but,\nin truth, clothed in the wedding garment, follows the doctrine of the\nSpotless Humble Lamb, that gentle and good Shepherd who, as one enamoured,\nran for our salvation to the shameful death of the most holy Cross. The\nunspeakable love which the soul has conceived for Christ crucified does\nall this. Most holy father, God has placed you as a shepherd over all His\nsheep who belong to the whole Christian religion; He has placed you as the\nminister of the Blood of Christ crucified, whose Vicar you are; and He\nplaced you in a time in which wickedness abounds more among your inferiors\nthan it has done for a long time, both in the body of Holy Church, and in\nthe universal body of the Christian religion. Therefore it is extremely\nnecessary for you to be established in perfect charity, wearing the pearl\nof justice, as I said; that you may not mind the world, nor poor people\nused to evil, nor any injuries of theirs; but manfully correct them, like\na true knight and just shepherd, uprooting vices and implanting virtues,\nready to lay down your life if needs be. Sweetest father, the world cannot\nbear any more; vices are so abundant, especially among those who were put\nin the garden of Holy Church to be fragrant flowers, shedding the\nfragrance of virtue; and we see that they abound in wretched, hateful\nvices, so that they make the whole world reek! Oh me! where is the purity\nof heart and perfect charity which should make the incontinent continent\nby contact with them? It is quite the contrary: many a time the continent\nand the pure are led by their impurities to try incontinence. Oh me! where\nis the generosity of charity, and the care of souls, and distribution to\nthe poor and to the good of the Church, and their necessities? You know\nwell that men do quite the contrary. Oh me miserable! With grief I say it\n--your sons nourish themselves on the wealth they receive by ministering\nthe Blood of Christ, and are not ashamed of being as money-changers,\nplaying with those most sacred anointed hands of yours, you Vicar of\nChrist: without speaking of the other wretched deeds which they commit. Oh\nme! where is that deep humility with which to confound that pride of\nsensuality of theirs, by which in their great avarice they commit\nsimonies, buying benefices with gifts, or flatteries, or money, dissolute\nand vain adornments, not as clerics, but worse than seculars! Oh me, sweet\nmy Babbo, bring us a remedy! And give refreshment to the desperate desires\nof the servants of God, who die and cannot die. They wait with great\ndesire that you as a true shepherd should put your hand to correcting\nthese things, not only with words but with deeds, while the pearl of\njustice, joined to mercy, shines on your breast; correcting in truth,\nwithout any servile fear, those who nourish them at the breast of the\nsweet Bride of Christ, the ministers of the Blood.\n\nBut truly, most holy father, I do not see how this can be well done if you\ndo not make over anew the garden of your Bride, stocking it with good\nvirtuous plants; taking pains to choose a troop of very holy men, in whom\nyou find virtue and no fear of death. Do not aim at grandeur, but let them\nbe shepherds who rule their flocks with zeal. And a troop of good\ncardinals, who may be upright columns of yours, helping you to bear the\nweight of many burdens, with divine help. Oh, how blessed will be my soul\nthen, when I shall see that which is hers given back to the Bride of\nChrist, and those nourished at her breast regarding not their own good,\nbut the glory and praise of the Name of God, and feeding on the food of\nsouls at the table of the holy Cross. I have no question that then your\nlay subjects will correct themselves--for they will not be able to help\nit, constrained by the holy and pure life of the clergy. We are not, then,\nto sleep over it, but manfully and without negligence to do what you can,\neven unto death, for the glory and praise of the Name of God.\n\nNext I beg you, and constrain you by the love of Christ crucified, as to\nthose sheep who have left the fold--I believe, for my sins--that by the\nlove of that Blood of which you are made minister, you delay not to\nreceive them in mercy, and with your benignity and holiness force their\nhardness; give them the good of bringing them back into the fold, and if\nthey do not ask it in true and perfect humility, let your Holiness fulfil\ntheir imperfection. Receive from a sick man what he can give you. Oh me,\noh me, have mercy on so many souls that perish! Do not consider the\nscandal which occurred in this city, in which surely the devils of hell\nbusied themselves, to hinder the peace and quiet of souls and bodies: but\nDivine Goodness saw to it that no great harm came from the great evil, but\nyour sons pacified themselves, and now ask of you the oil of mercy. Grant\nthat it seems to you, most holy father, that they do not ask it in those\nconciliatory ways nor with that heartfelt distaste for the sin they\ncommitted which they should, as it would please your Holiness to have\nthem--yet, oh me, do not give up! For they will make better sons than\nother people. Oh me, Babbo mine, I do not want to stay here any longer! Do\nwith me then what you will. Show me this grace and favour, poor wretch\nthat I am, knocking at your door. Do not deny me the easy little things\nthat I ask you for your sons; so that, having made peace, you may raise\nthe standard of the most holy Cross. For you see well that the infidels\nhave come to summon you. I hope by the sweet goodness of God that He will\nfill you with His burning charity, so that you shall know the loss of\nsouls, and how much you are bound to love them: and so you shall increase\nin eager zeal to set them free from the hands of the devil, and shall seek\nto heal the mystical body of Holy Church, and the body of the universal\nChristian religion; and especially to reconcile your sons, winning them\nwith benignity, with as much use of the rod of justice as they are fit to\nbear, and no more. I am certain that unless we have the virtue of charity,\nthis will not be done; and therefore I said that I wished to see you\nestablished in true and perfect charity. Not that I do not believe that\nyou are in charity, but because we can grow in the perfection of charity\nsince we are always pilgrims and strangers in this life, I said that I\nwished this perfection in you, that you feed it constantly with the flame\nof holy desire, and shed it upon your subjects, like a good shepherd. I\nbeg you to do so. And I will stay, and labour till I die, in prayer and in\nwhatever way I can, for the honour of God and for your peace and that of\nyour sons.\n\nI say no more to you. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Pardon my\npresumption, most holy father; but love and grief are my excuse before\nyour Holiness. I ask you humbly for your benediction. Sweet Jesus, Jesus\nLove.\n\n\n\n\nTO HER SPIRITUAL CHILDREN IN SIENA\n\n\nCatherine turned without difficulty from public cares to the needs and\nproblems of the little group of disciples in the restricted life of Siena.\nTo her eyes, there was no great nor small; the one drama was as important\nas the other, since both were God's appointed schools of character. She\nwas, as we have already seen, wise in the lore of Christian friendship.\nHow thoroughly she understood the tendencies likely to appear in a limited\ngroup of good people, bound closely together in faith and life, these\nletters, among others, bear witness. Not only in religious communities,\nbut wherever such a group exists, similar conditions arise. The life of\nthe affections becomes of leading importance; too often it is unregulated,\nand runs to morbid extremes; on the other hand, the peculiarly provincial\ntemptation to carping mutual scrutiny as well as to overwrought\nsensitiveness, is sure to be at play. All her life long Catherine combated\nthese dangers, in the strength at once of a large mind and of a gentle\nheart. The first of these letters puts in beautiful form the ideal of a\ntruly consecrated affection. The second repeats her familiar warning\nagainst a critical temper, and her favourite plea for that generous\ntolerance which puts the highest possible construction on one's\nneighbour's conduct. Tolerance, one surmises, was to her peculiarly swift\nand lofty spirit one of the most difficult among the virtues. Yet, or\nrather therefore, no one has ever presented more emphatically the relief\nafforded by the great permission and command, \"Judge not.\"\n\n\n\n\nTO BROTHER WILLIAM AND TO MESSER MATTEO\nOF THE MISERICORDIA\n\nAND TO BROTHER SANTI AND TO HER OTHER SONS\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest sons in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of the\nservants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood, with desire\nto see you bound in the bands of charity, for I consider that without this\nbond we cannot please God. This is the sweet sign by which the servants\nand sons of Christ are recognized. But think, my sons, that this bond must\nbe clean, and not spotted by self-love. If thou lovest thy Creator, love\nand serve Him in so far as He is highest and eternal good, worthy of being\nloved, and not for thine own profit, for that would be a mercenary love,\nlike a miser who loves money because of his avarice. So let your love for\nyour neighbour be clean. Love, love one another; you are neighbours one of\nthe other. But be on your guard, for if your love were founded in your own\nprofit or in the private affection which you might have for one another,\nit would not endure, but would fail, and your soul would find itself\nempty. The love which is founded in God must be of such a sort that it has\nto love with regard to virtue, and inasmuch as the friend is a creature\nmade in the image of God. For while delight in him whom I love, or profit\nfrom him may grow less, if one abides in God love does not fail, because\none loves with regard to virtue and the honour of God, and not to one's\nown personality. I say that if one abides in God, even if virtue should\nfail in him who loves, yet love does not turn away. The love of the virtue\nwhich is not there fails to be sure; but it does not fail in so far as a\nman is a creature of God, His member, bound in the mystical body of the\nHoly Church. Nay, there grows within one a love made up of great and true\ncompassion, and with desire he brings his friend to the birth, with tears\nand sighs and continual prayers in the sweet Presence of God. Now this is\nthe affection which Christ left to His disciples, which never lessens or\ngrows languid, and is not impatient for any injury it receives; there is\nno spirit of criticism in it nor displeasure, because it loves the friend,\nnot for himself, but for God. It does not judge nor want to judge the will\nof men, but the will of its Creator, which seeks and wills naught but our\nsanctification. And it joys in what God permits, of whatsoever kind it be,\nsince it seeks naught but the honour of its Creator and the salvation of\nits neighbour. Truly may we say that such men are bound in the bond of\ncharity with the band which held God-and-Man fast and nailed on the wood\nof the most holy and sweet Cross.\n\nBut think, sons mine, that you would never reach this perfect union did\nyou not hold as your object Christ crucified, and follow His footsteps.\nFor in Him you will find this love, who has loved you by grace and not by\nduty. And because He loves by grace, He has never grown languid in His\nlove, neither for our ingratitude nor ignorance nor pride nor vanity, but\never persevering, even to the shameful death of the Cross, freeing us from\ndeath and giving us life. Now so do you, my sons, learn--learn from Him.\nLove, love one another, with pure and holy love, in Christ sweet Jesus. I\nsay no more, because I hope to see you again soon, when it shall please\nthe divine goodness. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet\nJesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO SANO DI MACO AND ALL HER OTHER SONS IN SIENA\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest sons in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of the\nservants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood: with desire\nto see you strong and persevering till the end of your life. For I\nconsider that without perseverance no one can please God, or receive the\ncrown of reward. He who perseveres is always strong, and fortitude makes\nhim persevere.\n\nWe have absolute need of the gift of fortitude, for we are besieged by\nmany foes. The world, with its delights and deceits; the devil, with many\nvexing temptations, who lights upon the lips of men, making them say\ninsulting and critical things, and who often makes us lose our worldly\ngoods--and this he does solely to recall us from devoted charity to our\nneighbour; the flesh, astir in our own senses, seeking to war against the\nspirit. Yes, truly, all these foes of ours have besieged us; yet we need\nfeel no servile fear, because they are discomfited through the Blood of\nthe Spotless Lamb. We ought bravely to reply to the world and resist it,\ndisparaging its delights and honours, judging it to have in itself no\nabiding stability whatever. It shows us long life, with youth a-blossom\nand great riches; and they are all seen to be vanity, since from life we\ncome to death, from youth to age, from wealth to poverty; and thus we are\nalways running toward the goal of death. Therefore we need to open the eye\nof the mind, to see how miserable he is who trusts in the world. In this\nwise one will come to despise and hate what first he loved. To the wiles\nof the devil we can reply manfully, seeing his weakness; for he can\nconquer no one who does not wish to be conquered. One can reply to him\nthen with lively faith and hope, and with holy hatred of one's self. For\nin such hate one will become patient toward every tempting vexation and\ntribulation of the world, and will bear these things with true patience,\nfrom what side soever they come, if one shall hate one's own fleshliness\nand love to abide on the Cross with Christ crucified.\n\nFrom living faith one will derive a will in accord with that of God, and\nwill quench in heart and mind the human instinct of judging. The will of\nGod alone shall judge, which seeks and wills naught but our\nsanctification. In this wise one is not shocked at his neighbour and does\nnot criticize him. Nor does he pass judgment on a man who talks against\nhim: he condemns himself alone, seeing that it is the will of God which\npermits such men to vex him for his good. Ah, how blessed is the soul\nwhich clothes itself in a judgment so gentle! He does not condemn the\nservants of this world who do him injury; nor does he condemn the servants\nof God, wishing to drive them in his own way, as many presumptuous, proud\nmen do, who under cloak of the honour of God and the salvation of souls,\nare shocked by the servants of God, and assume a critical attitude under\ncover of this cloak, saying: \"Such words do not please me.\" And so a man\nbecomes disturbed in himself, and also makes others disturbed with his\ntongue, claiming that he speaks through the force of love--and so he\nthinks he does. But if he will open his eyes, he will find the serpent of\npresumption under a false aspect, which plays the judge, judging in its\nown fashion, and not according to the mysteries and the holy and diverse\nways in which God works with His creatures. Let human pride be ashamed,\nand consent to see that in the House of the Eternal Father are many\nmansions. Let it not seek to impose a rule upon the Holy Spirit: for He is\nthe Rule itself, Giver of the Rule: nor let it measure Him who cannot be\nmeasured. The true servant of God, arrayed in His highest eternal will,\nwill not do thus; nay, he will hold in reverence the ways and deeds and\nhabits of God's servants, since he judges them fixed not by man, but by\nGod. For, just because things are not pleasing to us and do not go\naccording to our habits, we ought to be predisposed to believe that they\nare pleasing to God. We ought not to judge anything at all, nor can we,\nexcept what is manifest and open sin. And even this the soul enamoured of\nGod and lost to itself does not assume to judge, except in displeasure for\nthe sin and wrong done to God; and with great compassion for the soul of\nhim who sins, eagerly willing to give itself to any torture for the\nsalvation of that soul.\n\nNow I summon you to this perfection, dearest sons; do you study with true\nand holy zeal to acquire it. And reflect that every stage in perfection\nwhich you reach will advance you in this holy and true judgment, free from\noffence or pain. So, on the contrary, false judgment betrays you into\nevery sort of pain, and fault-finding and ruinous faithlessness toward the\nservants of God. All this proceeds from the personal passion and rooted\npride which impels us to judge the will of our fellow-man. So such a man\nis always looking back, and does not persevere in gracious love of his\nneighbour, and never has strong and persevering love. Nay, his is like the\nimperfect love felt by the disciples of Christ before the Passion; for\nthey loved Him, rejoicing much in His presence; but because their love was\nnot founded in truth, but pleasure and self-indulgence were in it, it\nfailed when His presence was taken away; and they did not know how to bear\npain with Christ, but fled in fear. Beware, beware, lest this happen to\nyou. You rejoice much in the presence of a friend, and in absence you make\na fire of straw; for when the presence is taken away, every little wind\nand rain quenches it, and nothing remains except the black smoke of a dark\nconscience. All this happens because we have made ourselves judges of the\nwill of our fellows, and the habits and ways of the servants of God, not\naccording to His sweet will. Now no more thus, for love of Christ\ncrucified! but be faithful sons, strong and persevering in Christ sweet\nJesus. Thus shall you discomfit the temptation of the devil, and the words\nwhich he says, lighting on the lips of men.\n\nOur last enemy--that is, our miserable flesh with its sense-appetites--is\novercome by the flesh of Christ, scourged and nailed on the wood of the\nmost holy Cross, by mastering it with fast and vigil and continuous\nprayer, with burning sweet and loving desire. Thus sweetly shall we\nconquer and discomfit our foes by the power of the Blood of Christ. Thus\nshall you fulfil His will and my desire, which grieves when it beholds\nyour imperfection. I hope by His infinite goodness that He will console my\ndesire in you. Therefore I beg that you be not negligent, but zealous; do\nnot shift about in the wind like a leaf, but be firm, stable, and\nconstant; loving one another with true brotherly charity, bearing one\nanother's faults. By this I shall perceive whether you love God and me,\nwho desire naught but to see you in true unity. Drown you in the Blood of\nChrist crucified and hide you in His sweetest Wounds. I say no more.\n\nLet the convent of Santa Maria degli Angeli be commended to you. And never\nmind because I am not there, for good sons do more when the mother is not\npresent than when she is, because they want to show the love they have for\nher, and to enter more fully into her favour.\n\nI beg you, Sano, to read this letter to all the children. And do you all\npray God for us, that He grant us to complete what is begun to His honour\nand the salvation of souls; for we wish no other desire nor work, in\ndespite of any who may wish to hinder it. Remain in the holy and sweet\ngrace of God. May God fill you with His sweetest favour. Sweet Jesus,\nJesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO BROTHER RAIMONDO OF CAPUA\nOF THE ORDER OF THE PREACHERS\n\n\nWith all her longing to suffer for her faith, Catherine was only once, so\nfar as we know, exposed to physical violence. This was on the occasion of\nwhich she is here speaking. She is still in Florence, faithful under the\nnew Pope as under the old to her efforts to bring about the passionately\ndesired peace. In a tumult in the disordered city, it came to pass that\nher life was threatened, and she took refuge with her \"famiglia,\" in a\ngarden without the walls. Hither her enemies pursued her, but as they drew\nnear, fell back of a sudden, awestruck, as she herself here tells us, by\nher words and bearing. The danger was averted, and Catherine had met one\nof the disappointments of her life. [Footnote: As she herself expresses\nit, \"The Eternal Bridegroom played a great joke on me.\"] There is an\nalmost childlike simplicity in her account of the inner side of the\nexperience. Nothing could be more genuine than her grief that the crown of\nmartyrdom was not granted her--few things more lovely than her confiding\naccount of the fine joys which the mere hope of martyrdom, brief and\nfrustrated though it were, awakened in her spirit. Nor can she know even\nso supremely isolated an experience without insisting that it be shared by\nthose she loves, and returning thanks for the great mercy which her \"dear\nsons and daughters\" have received.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest father in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of\nthe servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood: with\ndesire to see you a faithful servant and bridegroom of truth, and of sweet\nMary, that we may never look back for any reason in the world, nor for any\ntribulations which God might send you: but with firm hope, with the light\nof most holy faith, pass through this stormy sea in all truthfulness; and\nlet us rejoice in endurance, not seeking our own glory, but the glory of\nGod and the salvation of souls, as the glorious martyrs did, who for the\nsake of truth made them ready for death and for all torments, so that with\ntheir blood, shed for love of the Blood, they built the walls of Holy\nChurch. Ah, sweet Blood, that dost raise the dead! Thou givest life, thou\ndost dissolve the shadows that darken the minds of reasonable creatures,\nand dost give us light! Sweet Blood, thou dost unite those who strive,\nthou dost clothe the naked, thou dost feed the hungry and give to drink to\nthose who thirst for thee, and with the milk of thy sweetness thou dost\nnourish the little ones who have made themselves small by true humility,\nand innocent by true purity. Oh, holy Blood, who shall receive thee amiss?\nThe lovers of themselves, because they do not perceive thy fragrance.\n\nSo, dearest and sweetest father, let us divest us and clothe us in truth,\nso we shall be faithful lovers. I tell you that today I will to begin\nagain, in order that my sins may not hold me back from such a good as it\nis to give one's life for Christ crucified. For I see that in the past,\nthrough my faults, this has been denied me. I had desired very much, with\na new intensity, increased in me beyond all custom, to endure without\nfault for the honour of God and the salvation of souls and the reformation\nand good of Holy Church, so that my heart was melting from the love and\ndesire I had to lay down my life. This desire was blessed and grievous;\nblessed it was for the union that I felt with truth, and grievous it was\nfor the oppression which I felt from the wrong against God, and the\nmultitude of demons who overshadowed all the city, dimming the eye of the\nmind in human beings. Almost it seemed that God was letting them have\ntheir way, through justice and divine discipline. Therefore my life could\nnot but dissolve in weeping, fearful for the great evil which seemed on\nthe point of coming, and because peace was hindered for this reason. But\nin this great evil, God, who despises not the desire of His servants, and\nthat sweet mother Mary, whose name was invoked with pained and dolorous\nand loving desires, granted that in all the tumult and the great upheaval\nthat occurred, we may almost say that there were no human deaths, except\nthose which justice inflicted. So the desire I had that God would show His\nprovidence and destroy the power of the demons that they might not do so\nmuch harm as they were ready to do, was fulfilled; but my desire to give\nmy life for the Truth and the sweet Bride of Christ was not fulfilled. But\nthe Eternal Bridegroom played a great joke on me, as Christopher will tell\nyou more fully by word of mouth. So I have reason to weep, because the\nmultitude of my iniquities was so great that I did not deserve that my\nblood should give life, or illumine darkened minds, or reconcile the sons\nwith the father, or cement a stone in the mystical body of Holy Church.\nNay, it seemed that the hands of him who wanted to kill me were bound. My\nwords, \"I am she. Take me, and let this family be,\" were a sword that\npierced straight through his heart. O Babbo mine, feel a wonderful joy in\nyourself, for I never experienced in myself such mysteries, with so great\njoy! There was the sweetness of truth in it, the gladness of a clean and\npure conscience; there was the fragrance of the sweet providence of God;\nthere was the savour of the times of new martyrs, foretold as you know by\nthe Eternal Truth. Tongue would not suffice to tell how great the good is\nthat my soul feels. I seem to be so bound to my Creator that if I gave my\nbody to be burned I could not satisfy the great mercy which I and my\ncherished sons and daughters have received.\n\nAll this I tell you that you may not conceive bitterness; but may feel an\nunspeakable delight, with softest gladness; and that you and I may begin\nto sorrow over my imperfection, because so great a good was hindered by my\nsin. How blessed my soul would have been had I given my blood for the\nsweet Bride, and for love of the Blood and the salvation of souls! Now let\nus rejoice and be faithful lovers.\n\nI will not say more on this subject; I let Christopher tell this and other\nthings. Only I want to say this: do you pray Christ on earth not to delay\nthe peace because of what has happened, but make it all the more promptly,\nso that then the other great deeds may be wrought which he has to do for\nthe honour of God and the reformation of Holy Church. For the condition of\nthings has not been changed by this--nay, for the present the city is\npacified suitably enough. Pray him to act swiftly; and I ask him this in\nmercy, for infinite wrongs against God which happen through the situation\nwill thus be put an end to. Tell him to have pity and compassion on these\nsouls which are in great darkness: and tell him to release me from prison\nswiftly; for unless peace is made it does not seem as if I could get out;\nand I would wish then to come where you are, to taste the blood of the\nmartyrs, and to visit his Holiness, and to find myself with you once more,\ntelling of the admirable mysteries which God has wrought at this time;\nwith gladness of mind, and joyousness of heart, and increase of hope, in\nthe light of most holy faith. I say no more to you. Remain in the holy and\nsweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO URBAN VI\n\n\nBy this time Catherine has evidently more than an inkling of the character\nof the man she is addressing. Gregory had been, if anything, only too\nsusceptible to influences from varying quarters: Urban's arbitrary and\nheadstrong nature resented any interference. He was making extraordinary\nblunders in tact and policy; but woe to the audacious person who sought to\npoint them out!\n\nCatherine's letters to this new Pope, if less familiarly affectionate than\nthose to the old, show the same amazing combination of candour and\nreverence. True to her constant principles in the interpretation of\ncharacter, she insists on putting the best possible construction on his\nactions, ascribing his impatient vehemence and bad temper to a noble and\npartially impersonal cause. One suspects that Urban had lost his temper\nwith poor Fra Bartolomeo because the friar had used too great freedom of\nspeech rather than too little, as Catherine suggests. Despite her\ngenerosity, however, she can rebuke pungently enough, as this letter\nshows. On another occasion, we find her sending to Urban a tangible\nallegory in the form of bitter oranges, candied within and gilded without,\ndoubtless by her own hands, with a pretty letter to point the moral. And\nagain she wrote: \"Mitigate a little, for the love of Christ crucified,\nthose sudden impulses which nature forces on you. In holy virtue, throw\nnature aside. As God has given you a great heart naturally, so I beg and\nwant you to make it great supernaturally: with zealous desire for virtue\nand the reform of Holy Church, do you establish the manly heart you have\ngained in true humility. In this way you will have both natural and\nsupernatural gifts--for the one without the other would avail little, but\nwould rather inspire us with wrath and pride: and when it came to\ncorrecting our intimates it would slacken its pace and become cowardly.\"\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nMost holy and sweet father in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and\nslave of the servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood:\nwith desire to see you a true and royal ruler of your flock, whom you have\nto nourish with the Blood of Christ crucified. Your Holiness has to see to\nit with great diligence to whom you administer that Blood, and by what\nmeans it is given; that is, I say, most holy father, that when shepherds\nare to be appointed in the garden of Holy Church, let them be people who\nseek God, and not benefices: and let the means of asking for the post be\nsuch as act openly in the truth and not in falsehood.\n\nMost holy father, have patience when you are talked to about these things.\nFor they are only said to you for the honour of God and for your\nsalvation, as a son ought to speak who loves his father tenderly, and\ncannot bear that anything should be done which should turn to the loss or\nshame of his father; but watches constantly, with intent earnestness,\nbecause he sees well that his father, who has to rule a large family, can\nsee no more than one man sees. So if his lawful sons were not earnest in\ncaring for his honour and welfare, he would be deceived many a time and\noft. So it stands, most holy father. You are father and lord of the\nuniversal body of the Christian religion; we are all under the wings of\nyour Holiness: as to authority, you can do everything, but as to seeing,\nyou can do no more than one man; so your sons must of necessity watch and\ncare with clean hearts and without any servile fear over what may be for\nthe honour of God and the safety and honour of you and the flocks that are\nbeneath your crook. And I know that your Holiness is very desirous of\nhaving people to help you; but you must be patient in listening to them.\n\nI am certain that two things must give you pain and make your mind angry,\nand I am not in the least surprised. The one is that when you hear that\nsins are committed, it hurts you that God should be wronged, for the wrong\nand the faults displease you, and you experience a piercing of your heart.\nIn this case we ought not to be patient, or to refrain from grieving over\nthe wrongs that are shown to God. No; for so it would seem as if we\nconformed us to these same vices. The other thing that might hurt you is\nwhen the son who comes to tell you what he feels to be turning into wrong\nagainst God and loss to souls and little honour to your holiness, commits\nsuch ignorance that he conscientiously obliges himself, in the presence of\nyour Holiness, not to tell you clearly the absolute truth as it is; for\nnothing should be secret nor hidden from you.\n\nI beg you, holy father, that when your ignorant son offends in this point,\nyour pain should be without any excitement on your part: correct him in\nhis ignorance. I say this, because according to what Master Giovanni told\nme of Brother Bartolomeo, he annoyed you and made you angry by his faults\nand his scrupulous conscience; for which he and I have been extremely\nsorry, since he thought that he had offended your Holiness. I beg you, by\nthe love of Christ crucified, to punish in me every pain that he may have\ngiven you; I am ready for any discipline and correction which shall please\nyour Holiness. I believe that my sins were the reason why he showed\nhimself so ignorant, therefore I ought to bear the penalty; and he is very\ndesirous to come penitently to you wherever it might please your Holiness.\nHave patience to bear his faults and mine. Bathe you in the Blood of\nChrist crucified; comfort you in the sweet flame of His charity. Pardon my\nignorance.\n\nI ask you humbly for your benediction. I thank the Divine Goodness and\nyour Holiness for the favour that you granted me on the day of St. John.\nRemain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO DON GIOVANNI OF THE CELLS OF VALLOMBROSA\n\n\nCatherine has missed her chance at martyrdom. Schism is threatening, and\nshe knows it: \"I seem to have heard that discord is arising yonder between\nChrist on earth and his disciples: from which thing I receive an\nintolerable grief.... For everything else, like war, dishonour, and other\ntribulations, would seem less than a straw or a shadow in comparison with\nthis. Think! For I tremble only to think of it ... I tell you, it seemed\nas if my heart and life would leave their body through grief.\" So she\nwrites, out of trance, to the Cardinal Pietro di Luna--himself destined to\nbecome later the antipope Benedict XIII.\n\nThe present sorrowful letter is to a hermit who had sinned violently in\nyouth, and repented passionately through many years of strictest\ndiscipline. Catherine pours out her heart to him. The words in which\nShelley's Fury drives home to the agonizing Prometheus the apparent\ntragedy of existence were fulfilled before her eyes:\n\n  \"Hypocrisy and custom make their minds\n  The fanes of many a worship now outworn:\n          *         *         *         *\n  The good want power but to weep barren tears,\n  The powerful goodness want--worse need for them:\n  The wise want love; and those who love want wisdom;\n  And all best things are thus confused to ill.\"\n\nWith unflinching clear-sightedness she presents the situation, turning in\nvain to every quarter whence help might come. To the whole body of the\npriesthood; to the timid monastic orders; to pious laymen honestly devout,\nyet touched by no flame of sacrificial passion such as she felt might\nbring salvation. It is never the sins of the world that most torture\nCatherine: always, as here, the sins of the Church. She does not pause\ntill she comes to the terrible climax: \"I see the Christian religion lying\nlike a dead man, and I neither mourn nor weep over him.\" It is the very\nlight of most holy faith that has confused the vision of men. And again we\nhear the familiar refrain, \"I believe that my iniquities are the cause of\nit.\"\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest father in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of\nthe servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood: with\ndesire to see you an hungered for souls, on the table of the most holy\nCross, in company with the humble and immaculate Lamb. I do not see,\nfather, that this sweet food can be eaten anywhere else. Why not? Because\nwe cannot eat it truly without enduring much; it must be eaten with the\nteeth of true patience and the lips of holy desire, on the Cross of many\ntribulations, from whatsoever side they may come--complaints, or the\nscandals in the world; and we must endure all things till death. Now is\nthe time, dearest father, to show whether we are lovers of Christ\ncrucified and rejoice in this food or not. It is time to give honour to\nGod and our toils to our neighbour: toils, I say, of the body, with much\nendurance, and toils of the mind, with grief and bitterness offering tears\nand sweats, humble and continual prayer, and suffering desire, before God.\nFor I do not see that in any other way the wrath of God may be pacified\ntoward us, and His mercy inclined, and through His mercy the many sheep\nrecovered who are perishing in the hands of devils, unless in the way I\nsaid, through great grief and compassion of heart, and the very greatest\ndevotion in prayer.\n\nTherefore I invite you, dearest father, on behalf of Christ crucified, to\nbegin anew with me to lose ourselves, and to seek only the honour of God\nin the salvation of souls, without any slavish fear: never to slacken our\nsteps either on account of our sufferings, or in order to please our\nfellow-creatures, or because we might have to bear death, or for any other\nreason; but let us run, as inebriate with love and grief over the\npersecution that is wrought upon the Blood of Christ crucified. For on\nwhatever side we turn we see it persecuted. If I turn me toward ourselves,\nrotten members that we are, we are persecuting it with our many faults,\nand such stench of mortal sins and empoisoned self-love as poisons the\nwhole world. And if I turn me to the ministers of the Blood of the sweet\nand humble Lamb, my tongue cannot even narrate their faults and sins. If I\nturn me to the ministers who are under the yoke of obedience, I see them\nso imperfect--the accursed root of self-love not being yet dead in them--\nthat not one has come to the point of wishing to give his life for Christ\ncrucified; but they have encouraged fear of death and pain rather than\nholy fear of God and reverence for the Blood. And if I turn me to the\nsecular people who have already released their affections from the world,\nthey have not exercised virtue enough to leave the place where they were,\nor suffer death rather than to do that which ought not to be done. They\nhave behaved so through imperfection, or else they are doing so through\nprudence. If I had to teach them prudence, I should advise them that if\nthey wanted to reach perfection they should rather choose death, and if\nthey felt themselves weak, they should flee the place and cause of sin,\njust as far as we can. This same counsel, if any chance came in your way,\nI should think that you and every servant of God ought to give. For you\nknow that it is never lawful for us to commit a little sin in any way,\nsurely not for fear of suffering or death, since not even for\naccomplishing some great good. So, then, on whatever side we turn us, we\nfind nothing but faults. For I do not doubt that if one single person had\nhad perfection enough to give his life, during the events which have\nhappened and are happening every day, the Blood would have called for\nmercy, and bound the hands of divine justice, and broken those Pharaoh-\nhearts which are hard as diamond stone; and I see no way in which they can\nbreak other than through blood.\n\nAh me, ah me, misfortunate my soul! I see the Christian religion lying a\ndead man, and I neither weep nor mourn over him. I see darkness invading\nthe light, for by the very light of most holy faith, received in the Blood\nof Christ, I see men's sight become confused and the pupil of their eye\ndried up; so that we see them fall as blind men into the ditch, into the\nmouth of the wolf of Hell, stripped of virtue and dead by cold; being\nstripped of the love of God and their neighbour, and released from the\nbond of love, and lost to all reverence for God and for the Blood. Ah me!\nI believe that my iniquities have been the cause of it.\n\nSo I beg you, dearest father, to pray God for me, that He take from me so\ngreat iniquities, and that I be not the cause of so great ill: or may He\ngive me death. And I beg you to lift these sons of ours as dead up to the\ntable of the most holy Cross, and there do you eat this food, bathed in\nthe Blood of Christ crucified. I tell you that if you and the other\nservants of God, and all of us, do not persuade ourselves with many\nprayers, and others, to correct themselves of evils so great, divine\njudgment will come, and divine justice will draw forth its rod. Indeed, if\nwe open our eyes, one of the greatest judgments that we can know in this\nlife is already befallen--that is, that we are deprived of light, and do\nnot see the loss and ill of soul and body. He who does not see cannot\ncorrect himself, because he does not hate evil or love true good. So, not\ncorrecting himself, he falls from bad to worse. So it seems to me that we\nare doing, and we are at a worse point now than the first day. It is\nessential, then, that we should never stop, if we are true servants of\nGod, in our much endurance and true patience, and in giving our toils to\nour neighbour, and honour to God, with many prayers and grieving desire;\nlet sighs be food to us and tears our drink, upon the table of the Cross;\nfor another way I do not see. Therefore I said to you that I desired to\nsee you an hungered for souls upon the table of the most holy Cross.\n\nI beg that your and my dearest sons be commended to you--those yonder, and\nthose here. Nourish them and make them grow in great perfection, so far as\nyour power goes. And let us strive to run, dead to all self-will,\nspiritual and temporal; that is, not seeking our own spiritual\nconsolations, but only the food of souls, rejoicing in the Cross with\nChrist crucified and giving our life, if need be, for the glory and\npraise of His Name. I for my part die and cannot die, hearing and seeing\nthe insults to my Lord and Creator; therefore I ask an alms from you, that\nyou pray God for me, you and the others. I say no more to you. Remain in\nthe holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nLETTERS ANNOUNCING PEACE\n\n\nAmid the horrors which darkened Europe during her last years, one episode\nof pure joy was vouchsafed to Catherine. The decisiveness of Urban brought\nto an end the vacillating negotiations of the Papal See with the\nFlorentines, and peace was proclaimed at last.\n\nThe first of these notes announces the first step toward a satisfactory\nend--the observance of the Interdict, placed by Gregory upon the city, and\ncontumaciously broken by the rebels. In the second, the news of the\nestablishment of peace has just been brought. Catherine's first impulse is\nto bid the friends at home rejoice with her in news great in itself, and\ngreater because it may clear the way for the realization of wider hopes.\nIt is noteworthy that the instant the end for which she has long been\nstraining is achieved, her loyal and aspiring spirit reverts to her old\ndreams, and summons her companions to resume prayer for a Crusade.\n\nThe arrival of the olive of peace, of which Catherine sends a portion to\nher friends, is the fit close to the long drama which had opened when\nChrist placed the Cross on her shoulder and the olive in her hand, and\nsent her to bear His command of reconciliation \"to one and to the other\npeople.\"\n\n\n\n\nTO MONNA ALESSA\nWHEN THE SAINT WAS AT FLORENCE\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest daughter in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of\nthe servants of Jesus Christ, write to thee in His precious Blood: with\ndesire to see thee and the others brides and faithful servants of Christ\ncrucified, that you may constantly renew your wailing for the honour of\nGod, the salvation of souls, and the reform of Holy Church. Now is the\ntime for you to shut yourselves within self-knowledge, with continual\nvigil and prayer that the sun may soon rise; for the aurora has begun to\ndawn. The aurora has come in that the dusk of great mortal sins which were\ncommitted in the office being said and heard publicly, is now scattered,\ndespite whoso would have hindered: and the interdict is observed. Thanks,\nthanks be to our sweet Saviour, who despises not humble prayer, nor the\ntears and burning desires of His servants! Since, then, He despises them\nnot, nay, but accepts them, I summon you to pray and to have prayer\noffered to the Divine Goodness that He send us peace swiftly; that God may\nbe glorified and so great an evil ended, and that we may find ourselves\nunited, to tell the wonderful things of God.\n\nUp! And sleep no more! Awaken, all of you, from the sleep of negligence!\nHave special prayers offered at such and such monasteries, and tell our\nPrioress to have all those daughters of hers offer special prayers for\npeace, that God may show mercy on us, and that I may not return without\nit. And for me, her poor daughter, that God will give me grace ever to\nlove and to proclaim the truth, and that for that truth I may die. I say\nno more. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus\nLove.\n\n\n\n\nTO SANO DI MACO AND TO THE OTHER SONS IN CHRIST\nWHILE SHE WAS IN FLORENCE\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest sons in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of the\nservants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood: with desire\nto see you true sons, really serving our sweet Saviour, that you may give\nmore zealously thanks and praise to His name.\n\nOh, dearest sons, God has heard the cry of His servants, who for so long\nhave cried aloud before His face, and the lamentable cry which they have\nraised so long over the sons who were dead. Now are they risen again--from\ndeath they have come to life, and from blindness to light. Dearest sons,\nthe lame walk, and the deaf hear, the blind eye sees and the dumb speak,\ncrying aloud with a loud voice: \"Peace, peace, peace!\" with great\ngladness--seeing themselves return as sons into the obedience and favour\nof their father, their minds being reconciled. As people who now begin to\nsee, they say: \"Thanks be to Thee, Lord, who hast reconciled us with our\nholy father.\" Now the Lamb of God, sweet Christ on earth, is called holy,\nwhile before he was called a heretic and a Patarin. Now they receive him\nfor a father, where before they refused him. I do not wonder, for the\ncloud is passed, and fair weather has come. Rejoice, rejoice, dearest\nsons, with very sweet weeping for thanksgiving, before the Highest Eternal\nFather, not calling yourselves content with this, but praying Him that\nsoon may be raised the gonfalon of the most holy Cross. Rejoice, exult, in\nChrist sweet Jesus; let our hearts break, seeing the largess of the\ninfinite goodness of God. Now peace is made, despite him who would hinder\nit. Discomfited is the devil of hell.\n\nSaturday evening one olive came at one o'clock at night; and to-day at\nvespers came the other. And Saturday evening that friend of ours was\ncaught with a companion, so that at one time heresy was thoroughly put an\nend to and peace came; now he is in prison. Pray God for him, that He give\nhim true light and knowledge. Drown you and bathe you in the Blood of\nChrist crucified. Love, love one another. I send you some of the olive of\npeace. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO THREE ITALIAN CARDINALS\n\n\nCatherine had ardently wished to see in the Seat of Peter a reformer, who\nshould have courage to apply surgery to the festering wounds of the\nChurch. She had her desire; Urban began at once a drastic policy of Church\nreform. But his domineering asperity proved unbearable to the College of\nCardinals, and schism broke upon a horrified world.\n\nThis was the situation:--After the death of Gregory, the cardinals, of\nwhom a large majority were French, when assembled in conclave in what was\nto them the barbarous city of Rome, had been terrified by the shouts of\nthe populace demanding a Roman, or at least an Italian, for Pope.\nResorting to stratagem, they reported as their choice the old Roman\ncardinal of San Pietro, who repudiated the false rumour with distress.\nMeantime, agreeing on compromise and finding a \"dark horse,\" the Sacred\nCollege elected with all due solemnity the Archbishop of Bari, and by the\nusual formalities notified the Christian world of the election. They soon,\nas has been said, rebelled against the man of their choice, and,\nannouncing that the election had been invalid because occasioned by fear,\nproceeded to appoint an antipope--Robert of Geneva, a man of personal\ncharm but of evil life, known in history as Clement VII. The impudence of\nthe reasons alleged by the cardinals for their action is well pointed out\nby Catherine. But Europe became divided in its allegiance, and war of\nwords was soon followed by war of swords.\n\nCatherine rose to the occasion. The rest of her tempestuous life was spent\nin the desperate defence of the cause of Urban--a man whom she rightly\nbelieved to be the lawful successor of Peter, yet concerning whose\nunlovely character she was, as we have already seen, under no illusions.\nThe many letters which she wrote with the aim of convincing important\npersonages of the validity of Urban's claims, are historical documents of\nhigh value. One feels in them all the amazement with which a woman whose\nnative air was the mystical conception of an infallible Church, faced the\nrealities of the ecclesiastical machine. But loyalty stood the test, and\nwhile never leaving the highest ground, Catherine proved herself capable\nof a statesmanlike treatment of the actual situation. The present letter\nis addressed to the three Italian members of the Sacred College, who,\nafter holding at first by their countryman, were induced by the Frenchmen\nto betray him: it is a tissue of telling and convincing representations,\ninterwoven with indignant rebuke and eloquent pleadings.\n\nThis was not the first time that a great Italian patriot had remonstrated\nwith the churchmen of Italy. Catherine's letter invites inevitable\ncomparison with that noble letter to Italian cardinals written by Dante on\nthe occasion of the impending papal election that followed the death of\nClement V. Dante, like Catherine, appealed to the cardinals on behalf of\nRome and Italy: his plea, that they put an end to the Babylonian Captivity\nin Avignon and return to the Seat of Peter. That letter marked an early\nstage in the disgraceful abandonment of the Holy City; this of Catherine\ntreats of the outcome of that great wrong. \"Yet the wound will be healed,\"\nwrote Dante; \"(though it cannot be otherwise than that the scar and brand\nof infamy will have burned with fire upon the Apostolic See and will\ndisfigure her for whom heaven and earth had been reserved)--if ye who were\nthe authors of this transgression will all with one accord fight manfully\nfor the Bride of Christ, for the Throne of the Bride which is Rome, for\nour Italy, and that I may speak more fully, for the whole commonwealth of\npilgrims upon this earth....\" Over sixty years had passed since Dante\nwrote thus; they had been years of sin and shame. The words of Catherine,\nas she confronts a situation yet darker than he had faced, breathe a less\nassured courage. But her patriotism and her Christianity are of like\ntemper with his own.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest brothers and fathers in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant\nand slave of the servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious\nBlood: with desire to see you turn back to the true and most perfect\nlight, leaving the deep shadows of blindness into which you are fallen.\nThen you shall be fathers to me; otherwise not. Yes, indeed, I call you\nfathers in so far as you shall leave death and turn back to life (for, as\nthings go now, you are parted from the life of grace, limbs cut off from\nyour head from which you drew life), when you shall stand united in faith,\nand in that perfect obedience to Pope Urban VI., in which those abide who\nhave the light, and in light know the truth, and knowing it love it. For\nthe thing that is not seen cannot be known, and he who knows not loves\nnot, and he who loves not and fears not his Creator loves himself with\nfleshly love, and whatever he loves, joys or honours and dignities of the\nworld, he loves according to the flesh. Since man is created through love,\nhe cannot live without love; either he loves God, or he loves himself and\nthe world with the love that kills, fastening the eye of his mind darkened\nby self-love on those transitory things that pass like the wind. In this\nstate he can recognize no truth nor goodness; he recognizes naught but\nfalsehood, because he has not light. For truly had he the light, he would\nrecognize that from such a love as this naught can result but pain and\neternal death. It gives him a foretaste of hell in this life; for he who\nimmoderately loves himself and the things of this world, becomes\nunendurable to himself.\n\nOh, human blindness! Seest thou not, unfortunate man, that thou thinkest\nto love things firm and stable, joyous things, good and fair? and they are\nmutable, the sum of wretchedness, hideous, and without any goodness; not\nas they are created things in themselves, since all are created by God,\nwho is perfectly good, but through the nature of him who possesses them\nintemperately. How mutable are the riches and honours of the world in him\nwho possesses them without God, without the fear of Him! for to-day is he\nrich and great, and to-day he is poor. How hideous is our bodily life,\nthat living we shed stench from every part of our body! Simply a sack of\ndung, the food for worms, the food of death! Our life and the beauty of\nyouth pass by, like the beauty of the flower when it is gathered from the\nplant. There is none who can save this beauty, none who can preserve it,\nthat it be not taken, when it shall please the highest Judge to gather\nthis flower of life by death; and none knows when.\n\nOh, wretched man, the darkness of self-love does not let thee know this\ntruth. For didst thou know it, thou wouldst choose any pain rather than\nguide thy life in this way; thou wouldst give thee to loving and desiring\nHim who Is; thou wouldst enjoy His truth in firmness, and wouldst not move\nabout like a leaf in the wind; thou wouldst serve thy Creator, and wouldst\nlove everything in Him, and apart from Him nothing. Oh, how will this\nblindness be reproved at the last moment in every rational being, and much\nthe more in those whom God has taken from the filth of the world, and\nassigned to the greatest excellence that can be, having made them\nministers of the Blood of the humble and spotless Lamb! Oh me, oh me! what\nhave you come to by not having followed up your dignities with virtue? You\nwere placed to nourish you at the breasts of Holy Church; you were flowers\nplanted to breathe forth the fragrance of virtue in that garden; you were\nplaced as masts to strengthen this ship, and the Vicar of Christ on earth;\nyou were placed as lights in a candlestick, to give light to faithful\nChristians, and to spread the faith. Well you know if you have done that\nfor which you were created. Surely no; for self-love has prevented you\nfrom knowing that in truth alone, to fortify men and give a shining\nexample of good and holy life, you were put in this garden. Had you known\nthis you would have loved it, and clothed you in that sweet truth. Where\nis the gratitude which you ought to have for the Bride who has nourished\nyou at her breast? I see in us naught but such ingratitude as dries up the\nfountain of pity. What shows me that you are ungrateful, coarse, and\nmercenary? The persecution which you, together with others, are inflicting\non that sweet Bride, at a time when you ought to be shields, to ward off\nthe blows of heresy. In spite of which, you clearly know the truth, that\nPope Urban VI. is truly Pope, the highest Pontiff, chosen in orderly\nelection, not influenced by fear, truly rather by divine inspiration than\nby your human industry. And so you announced it to us, which was the\ntruth. Now you have turned your backs, like poor mean knights; your shadow\nhas made you afraid. You have divided you from the truth which strengthens\nus, and drawn close to falsehood, which weakens soul and body, depriving\nyou of temporal and spiritual grace. What made you do this? The poison of\nself-love, which has infected the world. That is what has made you pillars\nlighter than straw. Flowers you who shed no perfume, but stench that makes\nthe whole world reek! No lights you placed in a candlestick, that you\nmight spread the faith; but, having hidden your light under the bushel of\npride, and become not extenders, but contaminators of the faith, you shed\ndarkness over yourselves and others. You should have been angels on earth,\nplaced to release us from the devils of hell, and performing the office of\nangels, by bringing back the sheep into the obedience of Holy Church, and\nyou have taken the office of devils. That evil which you have in\nyourselves you wish to infect us with, withdrawing us from obedience to\nChrist on earth, and leading us into obedience to antichrist, a member of\nthe devil, as you are too, so long as you shall abide in this heresy.\n\nThis is not the kind of blindness that springs from ignorance. It has not\nhappened to you because people have reported one thing to you while\nanother is so. No, for you know what the truth is: it was you who\nannounced it to us, and not we to you. Oh, how mad you are! For you told\nus the truth, and you want yourselves to taste a lie! Now you want to\ncorrupt this truth, and make us see the opposite, saying that you chose\nPope Urban from fear, which is not so; but anyone who says it--speaking to\nyou without reverence, because you have deprived yourselves of reverence--\nlies up to his eyes. For it is evident to anyone who wished to see, who it\nis that you presented as your choice through fear--that was Messer di\nSanto Pietro. You might say to me, \"Why do you not believe us? We know the\ntruth as to whom we chose better than you.\" And I reply, that you\nyourselves have shown me that you deserted the truth in many ways, so that\nI ought not to believe you, that Pope Urban VI. is not the true Pope. If I\nturn to the beginnings of your life, I do not recognize in you so good and\nholy a life that you would shrink from a lie for conscience' sake. What\nshows me that your life is badly governed? The poison of heresy. If I turn\nto the election ordained by your lips, we knew that you chose him\ncanonically and not through fear. We have already said that he whom you\npresented to the people through fear was Messer di Santo Pietro. What\nproves to me the regular election with which you chose Messer Bartolommeo,\nArchbishop of Bari, who to-day is made in truth Pope Urban VI.? In the\nsolemnity with which his coronation was observed, this truth is clear to\nus. That the solemnity was carried out in good faith is shown by the\nreverence which you gave him and the favours asked from him, which you\nhave used in all sorts of ways. You cannot deny this truth except with\nplain lies.\n\nAh, foolish men, worthy of a thousand deaths! As blind, you do not see\nyour own wrong, and have fallen into such confusion that you make of your\nown selves liars and idolaters. For even were it true (which it is not;\nnay, I assert again that Pope Urban VI. is the true Pope), but were it\ntrue what you say, would you not have lied to us when you told us that he\nwas the highest pontiff, as he is? And would you not falsely have shown\nhim reverence, adoring him for Christ on earth? And would you not have\npractised simony, in trying for favours and using them unlawfully? Yes,\nindeed. Now they, and you with them, have made an antipope, as far as your\naction and outward appearance go, since you consented to remain on the\nspot, when the incarnate demons chose the demon!\n\nYou might say to me: \"No, we did not choose him.\" I do not know how I can\nbelieve that. For I do not believe that you could have borne to stay there\notherwise, had you given your life for it; at least the fact that you\nsuppressed the truth, and did not burst out with it--for this would not\nhave been within your power--makes me inclined to think so. Although,\nperhaps, you did less wrong than the others in your intention, yet you did\ndo wrong with all the rest. What can I say? I can say that he who is not\nfor the truth is against the truth; he who was not at that time for Christ\non earth, Pope Urban VI., was against him. Therefore I tell you that you\ndid wrong, with the antipope: and I may say that he was chosen a member of\nthe devil; for had he been a member of Christ, he would have chosen death\nrather than consent to so great an evil, for he well knows the truth, and\ncannot excuse himself through ignorance. Now you have committed all these\nfaults in regard to this devil: that is, to confess him as Pope, which he\nsurely is not, and to show reverence to whom you should not. You have\ndeserted the light, and gone into darkness: the truth, and joined you to a\nlie. On what side soever, I find nothing but lies. You are worthy of\ntorture, which, I tell you in truth and unburden my conscience thereof,\nunless you return to obedience with true humility, will fall upon you.\n\nO misery upon misery, and blindness upon blindness, which does not let its\nwrong be seen nor the loss to soul and body! For had you seen it, you\nwould not have deserted the truth so lightly, in servile fear, passionate\nall, like proud people and arbitrary, accustomed to pleasant and soft\ndealings from men! You could not endure, not only an actual correction\nindeed, but even a harsh word of reproof made you lift up rebellious\nheads. This is the reason why you changed. And it clearly reveals the\ntruth to us; for, before Christ on earth began to sting you, you confessed\nhim and reverenced him as the Vicar of Christ that he is. But this last\nfruit that you bear, which brings forth death, shows what kind of trees\nyou are; and that your tree is planted in the earth of pride, which\nsprings from the self-love that robs you of the light of reason.\n\nOh me, no more thus for the love of God! Take refuge in humbling you\nbeneath the mighty hand of God, in obedience to His Vicar, while you have\ntime; for when the time is passed there will be no more help for us.\nRecognize your faults, that you may be humble, and know the infinite\ngoodness of God, who has not commanded the earth to swallow you up, nor\nbeasts to devour you; nay, but has given you time, that you may correct\nyour soul. But if you shall not recognize this, what He has given you as a\ngrace shall turn to your great judgment. But if you will return to the\nfold, and feed in truth at the breast of the Bride of Christ, you shall be\nreceived in mercy, by Christ in heaven and by Christ on earth, despite the\niniquity you have wrought. I beg that you delay no more, nor kick against\nthe prick of conscience that I know is perpetually stabbing you. And let\nnot confusion of mind, over the evil that you have wrought, so overcome\nyou, that you abandon your salvation in weariness and despair, as seeming\nunable to find help. Not so must you do; but in living faith, hold firm\nhope in your Creator, and return humbly to your yoke; for the last sin of\nobstinacy and despair would be the worst, and most hateful to God and the\nworld. Arise, then, into the light! For without light you would walk in\ndarkness, as you have done up to now.\n\nMy soul considering this, that we can neither know nor love the truth\nwithout light, I said and say that I desire intensely to see you arisen\nfrom darkness, and one with the light. This desire reaches out to all\nrational beings, but much more to you three, concerning whom I have had\nthe greatest sorrow, and marvel more at your fault than at all the others\nwho have shared it. For did all desert their father, you should have been\nsuch sons as strengthened the father, showing the truth. Notwithstanding\nthat the father might have treated you with nothing but reproof, you ought\nnot therefore to have assumed the lead, denying his holiness in any way.\nSpeaking entirely in the natural sense--for according to virtue we ought\nall to be equal--speaking humanly, Christ on earth being an Italian, and\nyou Italian, I see no reason but self-love why passion for your country\ncould not move you as it did the Ultramontanes. Cast it to earth now, and\ndo not wait for time, since time does not wait for you--trampling such\nselfishness underfoot, with hate of vice and love of virtue.\n\nReturn, return, and wait not for the rod of justice, since we cannot\nescape the hands of God! We are in His hands either by justice or by\nmercy; better it is for us to recognize our faults and to abide in the\nhands of mercy, than to remain in fault and in the hands of justice. For\nour faults do not pass unpunished, especially those that are wrought\nagainst Holy Church. But I wish to bind myself to bear you before God with\ntears and continual prayer, and to bear with you your penitence, provided\nthat you choose to return to your father, who like a true father awaits\nyou with the open wings of mercy. Oh me, oh me, avoid and flee it not, but\nhumbly receive it, and do not believe evil counsellors who have given you\nover to death! Oh me, sweet brothers! Sweet brothers and fathers you shall\nbe to me, in so far as you draw close to truth. Make no more resistance to\nthe tears and sweats which the servants of God shed for you, but wash you\nin them from head to foot. For did you despise them, and the eager sweet\nand grieving desires which are offered by them for you, you would receive\nmuch greater rebuke. Fear God, and His true judgment. I hope by His\ninfinite goodness that He will fulfil in you the desire of His servants.\n\nLet it not seem hard to you if I pierce you with the words which the love\nof your salvation has made me write: rather would I pierce you with my\nliving voice, did God permit me. His will be done. And yet you deserve\nrather deeds than words. I come to an end, and say no more; for did I\nfollow my will I should not yet pause, so full is my soul of grief and\nsorrow to see such blindness in those who were placed for a light: no\nlambs they, who feed on the food of the honour of God and the salvation of\nsouls, and the reform of Holy Church; but as thieves they steal the honour\nwhich they ought to give to God, and give it to themselves, and as wolves\nthey devour the sheep, so that I have great bitterness. I beg you by love\nof that precious Blood shed with such fiery love for you, that you give\nrefreshment to my soul, which seeks your salvation. I say no more to you.\nRemain in the holy and sweet grace of God: bathe you in the Blood of the\nSpotless Lamb, where you shall lose all servile fear, and enlightened, you\nshall abide in holy fear. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO GIOVANNA QUEEN OF NAPLES\n\n\nGiovanna of Naples was one of the most depraved, as well as one of the\nmost romantic, figures of her time. In fascination, as in evil, she\nanticipates the type of the women of the renascence. Her many crimes had\nnever prevented Catherine Benincasa from yearning over her with a peculiar\ntenderness, and we have many letters written by the daughter of the dyer\nof Siena to the great Neapolitan queen. Some of the earlier among these\nletters seem, curiously enough, not to have been without effect; for\nGiovanna not only replied to them, but gave her promise to join in a\nCrusade.\n\nNow that the Great Schism had broken forth, the adhesion of Giovanna to\nthe cause of Urban, who was politically her subject, was of prime\nimportance; and Catherine wrote her about the matter, not once, but many\ntimes. In her varied correspondence at this period, these letters have a\npeculiar interest, from the passionate personal feeling which pervades\nthem. It is not only for the sake of the truth that Catherine pleads and\nargues, but for the sake of Giovanna's salvation; one would think that\neven the hardened old Queen must have been touched with the intense and\ntender solicitude of the following letter, even if she were not convinced\nby its irrefutable reasoning. As a matter of fact, Giovanna, after having\nfor a time sided with Clement, did temporarily change her base and espouse\nthe cause of Urban. Soon, however, she reverted to her former position. It\nis probable that for her, as for many European sovereigns, the matter was\ndecided by considerations with which the naif question of the legitimacy\nof a papal election had little or nothing to do.\n\n\nDearest mother in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of\nthe servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood: with\ndesire to see you grounded in the truth which we must know and love for\nour salvation. He who shall be grounded in the knowledge of the Truth,\nChrist sweet Jesus, shall win and enjoy peace and quiet of soul, in the\nardour of that charity which receives the soul into this knowledge.\n\nWe should know this truth in two chief ways--although it befits us to know\nit in everything--that is, everything which exists should love itself in\nGod and through God, who is Truth itself, and there is nothing without\nHim; otherwise it would escape from truth and would walk in falsehood,\nfollowing the devil, who is the father thereof. I was saying that we ought\nto recognize truth especially in two ways. The first is, we should\nrecognise the truth about God. He loves us unspeakably, and loved us\nbefore we were; nay, by love He created us--this was and is the truth--in\norder that we might have life eternal and enjoy His highest eternal good.\nWhat shows us that this is truly so? The Blood, shed for us with such fire\nof love. In the sweet Blood of the Word, the Son of God, we shall know the\ntruth of His doctrine, which gives life and light, scattering every shadow\nof fleshly love and human self-indulgence, but knowing and following with\npure heart the doctrine of Christ crucified, which is grounded in the\ntruth. The second and last way is, that we ought to recognize the truth\nabout our neighbour, whether he be great or humble, subject or lord. That\nis, when we see that men are doing some deed in which we might invite our\nneighbour to join, we ought to perceive whether it is grounded in truth or\nnot, and what foundation he has who is impelled to do this deed. He who\ndoes not do this, acts as one mad and blind, who follows a blind guide,\ngrounded in falsehood, and shows that he has no truth in himself, and\ntherefore seeks not the truth. Sometimes it happens that people are so\ninsane and brutal that they see themselves lose through such a deed the\nlife of soul and body and their temporal possessions; and they do not\ncare, for they are blinded, and do not know what they ought to know; they\nwalk in darkness, with a feminine nature that lacks any firmness or\nstability.\n\nDearest mother,--in so far as you are a lover of truth and obedient to\nHoly Church I call you mother, but in no otherwise, nor do I speak to you\nwith reverence, because I see a great change in your person. You who were\na lady have made yourself a servant, and slave of that which is not,\nhaving submitted yourself to falsehood, and to the devil, who is its\nfather; abandoning the counsels of the Holy Spirit and accepting the\ncounsels of incarnate demons. You who were a branch of the true vine, have\ncut yourself off from it with the knife of self-love. You who were a\nlegitimate daughter, tenderly beloved of her father, the Vicar of Christ\non earth, Pope Urban VI., who is really the Pope the highest pontiff, have\ndivided yourself from the bosom of your mother, Holy Church, where for so\nlong a time you have been nourished. Oh me! oh me! one can mourn over you\nas over a dead woman, cast off from the life of grace; dead in soul and\ndead in body, if you do not escape from such an error. It appears that you\nhave not known God's truth in the way I spoke of; for had you known it,\nyou would have chosen death rather than to offend God mortally. Nor have\nyou known truth about your neighbour; but in great ignorance, moved by\nyour own passion, you have followed the most miserable and insulting\ncounsel--having acted according to it--that I ever heard of. What greater\nshame can be incurred than that one who was a Christian, held to be a\nCatholic and virtuous woman, should act like a Christian who denies her\nfaith, and depart from good and holy customs and the due reverence she has\nobserved? Oh me! open the eye of your mind, and sleep no more in so great\nmisery. Do not await the moment of death--after which it will not help you\nto make excuses, nor to say: \"I thought to do good.\" For you know that you\ndo ill, but like a sick and passionate woman, you let yourself be guided\nby your passions.\n\nI am quite sure that the counsel came from someone beside yourself. Will,\nwill to know the truth; who those men are, and why they make you see\nfalsehood for truth, saying that Pope Urban VI. is not true Pope, and\nmaking you consider that the antipope, who is simply an antichrist, member\nof the devil, is Christ on earth. With what truth can they say that to\nyou? Not with any; but they say it with entire falsity, lying over their\nheads. What can those iniquitous men say?--not men, but incarnate demons\n--since, on whatever side they turn, they must see that they have done\nnothing but ill. Even were it true--as it is not--that Pope Urban VI. was\nnot the Pope, they would merit a thousand deaths for this alone, as liars\ndiscovered in their untruth; for had they chosen him through fear in the\nbeginning, and not honestly with a regular election, and had presented him\nto us as a true Pope, see! they would have shown us a lie for truth,\nmaking us, and themselves at the same time, obey and reverence him whom we\nought not. For they did do him reverence, and asked favours from him, and\nprofited by them, as if they came from the highest pontiff, as they did. I\nsay, that were it true that he was not the Pope--(which is not the case,\nby the great goodness of God, who has had mercy upon us)--for this reason\nalone they could not be too severely disciplined; but they deserve a\nthousand thousand deaths to pretend that they elected the Pope through\nfear, when it was not so. But they cannot speak the truth, being men\nfounded in falsehood, for they cannot so hide it that its darkness and\nstench cannot be seen and felt. What they pretended is perfectly true:\nthey did elect a Pope through fear after they had elected the true Pope,\nMesser Bartolomeo, Archbishop of Bari, who to-day is Pope Urban VI.: that\nwas, Messer di Santo Pietro. But he, like a good man and just, confessed\nthat he was not the Pope, but Messer Bartolomeo, Archbishop of Bari, who\nto-day is called Pope Urban VI., and revered by faithful Christians as\nhighest pontiff and most just man, despite wicked men--not Christians, for\nthey bear the name of Christ neither on their lips nor on their heart--but\ninfidels who have deserted the faith and obedience of Holy Church and the\nVicar of Christ on earth, branches cut off from the True Vine, sowers of\nschism and of greatest heresy.\n\nOpen, open the eye of your mind, and sleep no more in such blindness. You\nshould not be so ignorant nor so separated from the true light as not to\nknow the wicked life, with no fear of God, of those who have led you into\nso great heresy: for the fruits which they bear show you what kinds of\ntrees they are. Their life shows you that they do not tell the truth; so\ndo the counsellors they have about them, without and within, who may be\nmen of knowledge, but they are not men of virtue, nor men whose life is\npraiseworthy, but rather to be blamed for many faults. Where is the just\nman whom they have chosen for antipope, if indeed our highest pontiff,\nPope Urban VI., were not the true Vicar of Christ? What man have they\nchosen? A man of holy life? No, but an iniquitous man, a demon--and\ntherefore he does the works of demons. The devil exerts himself to\nwithdraw us from the truth, and he does the very same thing. Why did they\nnot choose a just man? Because they knew well enough that a just man would\nhave chosen death rather than to have accepted the papacy, since he would\nhave seen no colour of truth in them. Therefore the demons took the demon,\nand the liars the lie. All these things show that Pope Urban VI. is truly\nPope, and that they are without truth, lovers of the lie.\n\nIf you said to me, \"My mind is not clear as to all these things,\" why do\nyou not at least stay neutral? although it is as clear as can possibly be\nsaid. And if you are not willing to help the Pope with your temporal\nsubstance until you have more illumination--(help which you are in duty\nbound to give, because the sons ought to help the father when he is in\nneed)--at least obey him in spiritual things, and in other things remain\nneutral. But you are behaving like a passionate woman; and hate, and\nspite, and the fear of losing him of whom you deprived yourself, which you\ncaught from a cursed teller of tales, has robbed us of light and\nknowledge; for you do not know the truth, obstinately persevering in this\nevil; and in this obstinacy you do not see the judgment which is coming\nupon you.\n\nOh me! I say these words with heartfelt grief, because I tenderly love\nyour salvation. If you do not change your ways, and correct your life, by\nabandoning this great error, and in regard to everything else, the highest\nJudge, who does not let sins pass unpunished unless the soul purifies them\nwith contrition of heart and confession and satisfaction, will give you\nsuch a punishment that you will become a signal instance to cause anyone\nto tremble who should ever lift his head against the Holy Church. Wait not\nfor this rod; for it will be hard for you to kick against the divine\njustice. You are to die, and know not when. Not riches, nor position,\nhowever great, nor worldly dignity, nor barons, nor people who are your\nsubjects as to the body, shall be able to defend you before the highest\nJudge, nor hinder the divine justice. But sometimes God works through\nrascally men, in order that they may execute justice on His enemy. You\nhave invited and invite the people and all your subjects to be rather\nagainst you than with you; for they have found little truth in your\ncharacter--not the quality of a man with virile heart, but that of a woman\nwithout any firmness or stability, a woman who changes like a leaf in the\nwind.\n\nThey have well in mind that when Pope Urban VI., true Pope, was created by\na great and true election, and crowned with great solemnity, you held a\ngreat and high festival, as the child should do over the exaltation of the\nfather, and the mother over that of the son. For he was both son and\nfather to you; father, through his dignity to which he had come, son\nbecause he was your subject--that is to say, of your kingdom. Therefore\nyou did well. Further, you commanded everyone to obey his Holiness as the\nhighest pontiff. Now I see that you have turned about, like a woman who\nhas no decision, and you will them to do the contrary. Oh, miserable\npassion! That evil which you have in yourself you wish to impart to them.\nHow do you suppose that they can love you and be faithful to you, when\nthey see that you are responsible for separating them from life and\nleading them into death, and casting them from truth into falsehood? You\nseparate them from Christ in heaven and from Christ on earth, and seek to\nbind them to the devil, and to antichrist--lover and prophet of lies that\nhe is, he and you and the others who follow him.\n\nNo more thus for the love of Christ crucified! You are in every way\ncalling down the divine judgment. I grieve for it. If you do not hinder\nthe ruin that is coming upon you, you cannot escape from the hands of God.\nEither by justice or by mercy, you are in His hands. Correct your life,\nthat you may escape the hands of justice, and remain in those of mercy.\nAnd do not wait for the time, for an hour comes when you shall wish and\ncannot. O sheep, return to your fold; let you be governed by the Shepherd:\nelse the wolf of hell shall devour you! Take back for your guards the\nservants of God, who love you in truth more than you yourself, and good,\nmature and discreet counsellors. For the counsel of incarnate demons, with\nthe inordinate fear into which they have thrown you through terror of\nlosing your temporal state--(which passes like the wind with no\npermanence, for either it leaves us, or we it through death)--has brought\nyou where you are. You shall yet weep, if you change not your ways,\nsaying: \"Alas, alas! I am one who has robbed herself, on account of the\nfear into which I was thrown by villainous counsellors!\" But there is yet\ntime, dearest mother, to avert the judgment of God. Return to the\nobedience of Holy Church: know the ill that you have wrought: humble you\nunder the mighty hand of God; and God, who has regard to the humility of\nHis handmaid, shall show mercy upon us: He will placate His wrath over\nyour faults; through the mediation of the Blood of Christ, you shall be\ngrafted and bound in Him with the chain of that charity in which you shall\nknow and love the truth. The truth shall set you free from lie: it shall\nscatter all shadows, giving you light and knowledge in the mercy of God.\nIn this truth you shall be freed; in other wise, never.\n\nAnd because the truth sets us free, I, having desire for your salvation,\nsaid that I desired to see you established in the truth, that it be not\nwronged by falsehood. I beg you, fulfil in yourself the will of God and\nthe desire of my soul, for with all the depth and all the strength of my\nsoul I desire your salvation. And, therefore, constrained by the Divine\nGoodness which loves you unspeakably, I have moved me to write to you with\ngreat sorrow. Another time, also, I wrote you on this same matter. Have\npatience if I burden you too much with words, and if I speak with you\nboldly, irreverently. The love which I bear to you makes me speak with\nboldness: the fault which you have committed makes me depart from due\nreverence, and speak irreverently. I could wish far rather to tell you the\ntruth by speech than by writing, for your salvation, and chiefly for the\nhonour of God; and I would far rather deal in deeds than in words with him\nwho is to blame for it all, although the blame and the reason is in\nyourself, since there is no one, neither demon nor creature, who can force\nyou to the least fault unless you choose. Therefore I said to you that you\nare the cause of it. Bathe you in the Blood of Christ crucified. There are\nscattered the clouds of self-love and servile fear, and the poison of hate\nand self-scorn. I say no more to you. Remain in the holy and sweet grace\nof God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO SISTER DANIELLA OF ORVIETO\n\n\nSister Daniella has found herself in straits again; constrained, it would\nseem, by the Spirit, to action not endorsed by her religious superiors.\nPossibly she wished, following the example of Catherine, to leave her\ncloister and take part in the public life of her time. Catherine herself\nhad been in like straits during much of her early life. Well she knew, as\nSt. Francis knew before her, the suffering of that inward conflict, when\nthe Voice of God summons one way, and the voices of men, reinforced by\nthat instinct of humility and obedience which the middle ages held so\ndear, insist upon another. She writes to her friend with comprehending\nsympathy. Daniella, as we have already seen, was a woman who understood\nher and whom she understood. And it must have been a relief to Catherine,\nat this point in her career, for once to encourage ardour instead of\nrebuking sin or seeking to inspire timidity. Our saint is so constantly on\nthe side of obedience, when, as not infrequently happens, some weak\nbrother or sister is restless under the yoke of vows, that we are sure she\nmust know her woman when she writes: \"Fear and serve God, disregarding\nyourself; and then do not care what people say unless it is to feel\ncompassion for them.\"\n\nWe see at the end of the letter that Catherine is on the point of going to\nRome. In fact, Urban had summoned her thither, being evidently alive to\nthe advantages of the support of one so famed for sanctity. In Rome the\nremainder of her life was to be passed.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest daughter in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of\nthe servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood: with\ndesire to see thee in true and very perfect light, that thou mayest know\nthe truth in perfection. Oh, how necessary this light is to us, dearest\ndaughter! For without it we cannot walk in the Way of Christ crucified, a\nshining Way that brings us to life; without it we shall walk among shadows\nand abide in great storm and bitterness. But, if I consider aright, it\nbehoves us to possess two orders of this light. There is a general light,\nthat every rational creature ought to have, for recognizing whom he ought\nto love and obey--perceiving in the light of his mind by the pupil of most\nholy faith, that he is bound to love and serve his Creator, loving Him\ndirectly, with all his heart and mind, and obeying the commandments of the\nlaw to love God above everything, and our neighbour as ourselves. These\nare the principles by which all men beside ourselves are held. This is a\ngeneral light, which we are all bound by; and without it we shall die, and\nshall follow, deprived of the life of grace, the darkened way of the\ndevil. But there is another light, which is not apart from this, but one\nwith it--nay, by this first, one attains to the second. There are those\nwho, observing the commandments of God, grow into another most perfect\nlight; these rise from imperfection with great and holy desire, and attain\nunto perfection, observing both commandments and counsels in thought and\ndeed. One should use this light with hungry desire for the honour of God\nand the salvation of souls, gazing therewith into the light of the sweet\nand loving Word, where the soul tastes the ineffable love which God has to\nHis creatures, shown to us through that Word, who ran as enamoured to the\nshameful death of the Cross, for the honour of the Father and for our\nsalvation.\n\nWhen the soul has known this truth in the perfect light, it rises above\nitself, above its natural instincts; with intense, sweet and loving\ndesires, it runs, following the footsteps of Christ crucified, bearing\npains, bearing shame, ridicule and insult with much persecution, from the\nworld, and often from the servants of God under pretext of virtue.\nHungrily it seeks the honour of God and the salvation of souls; and so\nmuch does it delight in this glorious food, that it despises itself and\neverything else: this alone it seeks, and abandons itself. In this perfect\nlight lived the glorious virgins and the other saints, who delighted only\nin receiving this food with their Bridegroom, on the table of the Cross.\nNow to us, dearest daughter and sweet my sister in Christ sweet Jesus, He\nhas shown such grace and mercy that He has placed us in the number of\nthose who have advanced from the general light to the particular--that is,\nHe has made us choose the perfect state of the Counsels: therefore we\nought to follow that sweet and straight way perfectly, in true light, not\nlooking back for any reason whatever; not walking in our own fashion but\nin the fashion of God, enduring sufferings without fault even unto death,\nrescuing the soul from the hands of devils. For this is the Way and the\nRule that the Eternal Truth has given thee; and He wrote it on His body,\nnot with ink, but with His Blood, in letters so big that no one is of such\nlow intelligence as to be excused from reading. Well thou seest the\ninitials of that Book, how great they are; and all show the truth of the\nEternal Father, the ineffable love with which we were created--this is the\ntruth--only that we might share His highest and eternal good. This our\nMaster is lifted up on high upon the pulpit of the Cross, in order that we\nmay better study it, and should not deceive ourselves, saying: \"He teaches\nthis to me on earth, and not on high.\" Not so: for He ascended upon the\nCross, and uplifted there in pain, He seeks to exalt the honour of the\nFather, and to restore the beauty of souls. Then let us read heartfelt\nlove, founded in truth, in this Book of Life. Lose thyself wholly; and the\nmore thou shalt lose the more thou shalt find; and God will not despise\nthy desire. Nay, He will direct thee, and show thee what thou shouldst do;\nand will enlighten him to whom thou mightest be subject, if thou dost\naccording to His counsel. For the soul that prays ought to have a holy\njealousy, and let it always rejoice to do whatever it does with the help\nof prayer and counsel.\n\nThou didst write me, and as I understood from thy letter it seems that\nthou art troubled in heart. And this is not a slight feeling; nay, it is\nmighty, stronger than any other, when on the one side thou dost feel\nthyself called by God in new ways, and His servants put themselves on the\ncontrary side, saying that this is not well. I have a very great\ncompassion for thee; for I know not what burden is like that, from the\njealousy the soul has for itself; for it cannot offer resistance to God,\nand it would also fulfil the will of His servants, trusting more in their\nlight and knowledge than in its own; and yet it does not seem able to. Now\nI reply to thee simply according to my low and poor sight. Do not make up\nthy mind obstinately, but as thou feelest thyself called without thine own\ndoing, so respond. So, if thou dost see souls in danger, and thou canst\nhelp them, do not close thine eyes, but exert thyself with perfect zeal to\nhelp them, even to death. And never mind about thy past resolutions to\nsilence or anything else--lest it be said to thee later: \"Cursed be thou,\nthat thou wast silent.\" Our every principle and foundation is in the love\nof God and our neighbour alone; all our other activities are instruments\nand buildings placed on this foundation. Therefore thou shouldst not, for\npleasure in the instrument or the building, desert the principal\nfoundation in the honour of God and the love of our neighbour. Work, then,\nmy daughter, in that field where thou seest that God calls thee to work;\nand do not get distressed or anxious in mind over what I have said to\nthee, but endure manfully. Fear and serve God, with no regard to thyself;\nand then do not care for what people may say, except to have compassion on\nthem.\n\nAs to the desire thou hast to leave thy house and go to Rome, throw it\nupon the will of thy Bridegroom, and if it shall be for His honour and thy\nsalvation, He will send thee means and the way when thou art thinking\nnothing about it, in a way that thou wouldst never have imagined. Let Him\nalone, and lose thyself; and beware that thou lose thee nowhere but on the\nCross, and there thou shalt find thyself most perfectly. But this thou\ncouldst not do without the perfect light; and therefore I said to thee\nthat I desired to see thee in the true and most perfect light, beyond the\ncommon light we talked of.\n\nLet us sleep no more! Let us wake from the slumber of negligence, groaning\nwith humble continual prayers, over the mystical Body of Holy Church, and\nover the Vicar of Christ! Cease not to pray for him, that Christ may give\nhim light and fortitude to resist the strokes of incarnate demons, lovers\nof themselves, who seek to contaminate our faith. It is a time for\nweeping.\n\nAs to my coming thy way, pray the highest eternal Goodness of God to do\nwhat may be for His honour and the salvation of the soul, and pray\nespecially, for I am on the point of going to Rome, to fulfil the will of\nChrist crucified and of His Vicar. I do not know what way I shall take.\nPray Christ sweet Jesus to send us by that way which is most to His\nhonour, in peace and quiet of our souls. I say no more to thee. Remain in\nthe holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO STEFANO MACONI\n\n\n\"To Stefano di Corrado Maconi, her ignorant and most ungrateful son\": \"To\nStefano Maconi, her most ungrateful and unworthy son, when she was at\nRome\": so run the superscriptions to these letters. Doubtless, they headed\ncopies made by the hand of Stefano himself. We have seen in connection\nwith Catherine's letters to his mother how constantly after their first\nmeeting this young disciple had been with her. Long before this, he had\nbecome the best-beloved of the \"Famiglia,\" and next to herself its most\nimportant member. He did not, however, for some reason, accompany her to\nRome, and Catherine's heart yearned over him during the last weary months.\nFrom the first, she had perceived in his frank and joyous temperament the\ngerms of high spiritual perfection, and had sought to draw him to the\nmonastic life. \"Cut the bonds that hold thee, and do not merely loosen\nthem,\" she wrote in one of the first letters to Stefano that we possess:\n\"Resist no longer the Holy Spirit that is calling thee--for it will be\nhard for thee to kick against Him. Do not let thyself be withheld by thine\nown lukewarm heart, or by a womanish tenderness for thyself, but be a man,\nand enter the battlefield manfully.\" Stefano, however, despite his\npersonal devotion to Catherine, felt for a long time no vocation for the\ncloister. She continued, as we see in these letters, to urge him with\nincreasing insistence: but his hesitation was ended only by her death. He\nhastened to Rome at the last, urgently summoned, in time to see her living\nand to receive her last words. Her dying request did what her entreaties\nduring life had failed to do; the brilliant young noble became a\nCarthusian monk. At a later time he was made General of the Order.\nDevotion to the memory of Catherine was the inspiration of his life after\nshe left him.\n\nThe letters in this group were all written after Catherine had reached\nRome. They form a strong contrast to the more formal and elaborate\ndocuments which she was at this time despatching to dignitaries,\nconcerning the ecclesiastical situation. Their serene spiritual fervour\nbears witness to the \"central peace\" subsisting at the heart of the\n\"endless agitation\" of her active life. In their intimate messages,\nmoreover, to home friends and disciples, they throw a charming light on\nwhat may be called the domestic side of her character.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest son in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of the\nservants of Jesus Christ, write to thee in His precious Blood: with desire\nto see thee a true guardian of the city of thy soul. Oh, dearest son, this\ncity has many gates! They are three--Memory, Intellect, and Will, and our\nCreator allows all of them to be battered, and sometimes opened by\nviolence, except one--that is, Will. So it happens at times that the\nintellect sees nothing but shadows; the memory is occupied with vain and\ntransitory things, with many and varied reflections and impure thoughts;\nand likewise all the sensations of the body are ill-regulated and\nravaging. So it is perfectly clear that no one of these gates is in our\nown free possession, except only the Gate of Will. This belongs to our\nliberties, and has for its Watch Free-will. And this gate is so strong\nthat nor demon nor creature can open it if the watch does not consent. And\nwhile this gate is not open--that is, while it does not consent to what\nMemory and Intellect and the other gates experience--our city keeps its\nfree privileges for ever. Let us, then, recognize, my son, let us\nrecognize so excellent a benefit and so unmeasured a largess of charity as\nwe have received from the Divine Goodness, that has put us in free\npossession of so noble a city.\n\nLet us strive to hold good and zealous watch, keeping at the side of our\nWatch Free-will, the dog Conscience, who when anyone comes at the gate\nmust awake Reason by its barking, that she may discern whether it be\nfriend or foe: so that the watch may let friends enter, ordering good and\nholy inspirations to do their work, and may drive away the foes, locking\nthe Gate of Will, that it consent not to admit the evil thoughts that come\nto the gate every day. And when thy city shall be demanded of thee by the\nLord, thou canst give it up, sound, and adorned with true and royal\nvirtues, thanks to His grace. I say no more here.\n\nAs I wrote on the first day of the month to all the sons in common, we\narrived here on the first Sunday in Advent with much peace. Remain in the\nholy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest son in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of the\nservants of Jesus Christ, write to thee in His precious Blood: with desire\nto see thee risen above childishness, and become a manly man; risen from\nenjoying the milk of consolations, mental and actual, and set to eat the\nhard musty bread of many tribulations in mind and body, of conflicts with\ndevils and injuries from thy fellows, and of any other kind that God might\nbe pleased to grant thee. I desire to see thee rejoicing in such, and\nhasting to meet them with kindling desire and sweet gratitude to the\ndivine goodness, when it may please Him to show thee such great gifts--\nwhich will be whenever He shall see thee fit to receive them. Rouse thee,\nmy son, rouse thee from thy lukewarmness of heart; steep it in the Blood,\nthat it may burn in the furnace of divine charity, so that it may attain\nto abominate all childish deeds, and be on fire to be all manful, to enter\non the battlefield to do great works for Christ crucified, fighting\nmanfully. For Paul says that none shall be crowned save such as have\nmanfully fought. So he who sees himself abide away from the Field has\ncause for weeping. Now I say no more here.\n\nI had thy letter, and saw it gladly. Concerning the affair of the\nProposal, I reply that thy disposition pleases me much; and we must be\nglad of the sweet games that our sweet God plays with His creatures, to\npersuade them to the end for which we were all created: so that when the\nsweet medicine and ointment of consolations does not help, He sends us\ntribulations, cauterizing the wound that it may not suppurate. I will\nwillingly take pains about thy affair, for the love of God and thy\nsalvation, as soon as these festivals and holy days are past.\n\nI will try to obtain the Indulgences that thou askest me for with the\nfirst I shall demand. I do not know when--for I have worn out the clerks\nof the court. One must hold one's self a little back.\n\nI am writing a letter to Matteo: give it to him. And comfort him, and go\nto find him sometimes, to warm him up to the enterprise that is begun. I\nhave heard of the illness which God has sent ... and, considering his\nneed, I beg and constrain thee as much as I can that thou and thy brothers\nbring it about that the Company of the Virgin Mary give him aid, as much\nas thou canst get. Catarina is very much to be pitied, to find herself\nalone and poor without any refuge; so be zealous to show this charity. I\nam writing of this to Pietro, too. Let me perceive that you have not shown\nany negligence.\n\nI say no more to thee. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God. All this\nfamily comfort thee in Christ, and be the negligent and ungrateful writer\ncommended to thee. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest son in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of the\nservants of Jesus Christ, write to thee in His precious Blood: with desire\nto see thee cut thy bonds, and not simply set thyself to loosening them,\nfor it takes some time to loosen, and this thou art not sure of having, so\nswiftly it passes from thee. It is better, then, to cut them thoroughly,\nwith a true and holy zeal. Oh, how blessed my soul will be when I shall\nsee that thou hast cut thyself off from the world in deed and thought, and\nfrom thy own fleshly instincts, and hast united thyself to life eternal: a\nunion that is of such joy and sweetness and suavity that it quenches all\nbitterness and renders light every heavy weight! Who, then, shall hold us\nfrom drawing the sword of hate and love, and cutting self from self with\nthe hand of free will? As soon as this sword has cut, it is of such virtue\nthat it unites. But thou wilt say to me, dearest son: \"Where is this sword\nfound and wrought?\" I reply to thee, Thou findest it in the cell of self-\nknowledge, where thou dost conceive hatred of thine own sin and frailty,\nand love of thy Creator and thy neighbour, with true and sincere virtues.\nWhere is it wrought? In the fire of divine charity, on the anvil of the\nBody of the sweet and loving Word, the Son of God. Then ignorant indeed,\nand worthy of great rebuke, is he who has weapons in his possession to\ndefend himself with, and who throws them away.\n\nI do not want thee to be of these ignorant people, but I want thee to\nhasten in thy whole manhood, and respond to Mary, who calls thee with\ngreatest love. The blood of these glorious martyrs, buried here in Rome as\nto the body, who gave blood and life with so fiery love for the love of\nLife, is hot with longing, summoning thee and the others that you come to\nsuffer, for glory and praise of the Name of God and Holy Church, and for\nthe trial of your virtues. For to this Holy Land, wherein God revealed His\ndignity, calling it His garden, He has called His servants, saying: \"Now\nis the time for them to come, to test the gold of virtue.\" Now let us not\nplay the deaf man. Were our ears stopped by cold, let us cleanse us in the\nBlood, hot because it is mingled with fire, and all deafness shall be\ntaken away. Hide thee in the Wounds of Christ crucified; flee before the\nworld, leave thy father's house; flee into the refuge of the Side of\nChrist crucified, that thou mayest come to the Land of Promise. This same\nthing I say also to Pietro. Place you at the table of the Cross, and\nthere, refreshed by the Blood, take the food of souls, enduring pains and\nshames, insults, ridicule, hunger, thirst, and nakedness: glorying, with\nthat sweet Paul the Chosen Vessel, in the shame of Christ crucified. If\nthou shalt cut thee free, as I said, endurance shall be thy glory,\notherwise not, but it shall be a pain to thee, and thy shadow will make\nthee afraid.\n\nMy soul, considering this, as an hungered for thy salvation. I desire to\nsee thee cut thyself free, and not set thyself to loosen, that thou mayest\nrun thee more swiftly. Clothe thee in the Blood of Christ crucified. I say\nno more to thee. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God.\n\nI had thy letters, and had great consolation from them, over Battista's\nbeing healed, because I have hope that he will yet be a good plant, and\nfor the compassion I felt for Monna Giovanna. But I rejoiced very much\nmore that God has sent thee a way of extricating thyself from the world,\nand also over the good disposition of which thou writest me, that the\nLords and our other citizens have toward our sweet \"Babbo,\" Pope Urban VI.\nMay God by His infinite mercy preserve it, and increase ever their\nreverence and obedience toward him. While thou and the others shall be\nthere, be zealous to sow the truth and confound falsehood as far as your\npower extends.\n\nCommend me closely to Monna Giovanna and Currado. Comfort also Battista\nand the rest of the family. Comfort all those sons of mine, and tell them\nalso particularly to pardon me if I do not write to them, because it seems\nsomewhat difficult. Comfort Messer Matteo: tell him to send us word of\nwhat he wants, first, because I have forgotten it, and Fra Raimondo went\naway so soon that we could not get it from him. Then I will zealously do\nall I can. And tell Frate Tommaso that I do not write to him because I do\nnot know whether he is there, but if he is there, comfort him, and tell\nhim to give me his blessing. Our Lisa and all the family commend\nthemselves to thee. Neri does not write thee because he has been at the\npoint of death; but now he is cured.\n\nMay God give thee His sweet eternal blessing. Tell Pietro to come here if\nhe can, for something that is of importance. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love!\n\nGive all these letters, or have them given. And pray God for us. As to\nthese few letters bound by themselves, give them just as they are to Monna\nCatarina di Giovanni, and let her distribute them.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest son in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of the\nservants of Jesus Christ, write to thee in His precious Blood: with desire\nto see thee arise from the lukewarmness of thy heart, lest thou be spewed\nfrom the mouth of God, hearing this rebuke, \"Cursed are ye, the lukewarm!\nWould you had at least been ice-cold!\" This lukewarmness proceeds from\ningratitude, which comes from a faint light that does not let us see the\nagonizing and utter love of Christ crucified, and the infinite benefits\nreceived from Him. For in truth, did we see them, our heart would burn\nwith the flame of love, and we should be famished for time, using it with\ngreat zeal for the honour of God and the salvation of souls. To this zeal\nI summon thee, dearest son, that now we begin to work anew.\n\nI send thee a letter that I am writing to the Lords, and one to the\nCompany of the Virgin Mary. See and understand them, and then give them;\nand then ... And talk to them fully concerning this matter that is\ncontained in the letters, begging each of them, on behalf of Christ\ncrucified and me, that they deal zealously, just so far as they can, with\nthe Lords and whoever has to do with it, that the right thing may be done\nin regard to Holy Church, and the Vicar of Christ, Urban VI. It weighs\nupon me very much, for my part, that it should please them to have\nconfidence in this matter, for the honour of God, and the spiritual and\ntemporal profit of the city. Do thou be fervent and not tepid in this\nactivity, and in quickening thy brothers and elders of the Company to do\nall they may in the affair of which I write. If you are what you ought to\nbe, you will set fire to all Italy, and not only yonder.\n\nI say no more to thee. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Comfort\n... all these, thy brothers, and thy sister, comfort thee in Christ, and\nall are waiting for thee. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO CERTAIN HOLY HERMITS\nWHO HAD BEEN INVITED TO ROME BY THE POPE\n\n\nFrom early years, Catherine had cherished the simple-hearted desire that\nthe affairs of Christ's people be put in the hands of His truest\nfollowers. Now, in this last period of her life, surrounded by the\ncorruption and intrigue of the papal court, her thoughts turned more and\nmore wistfully to the reserves of spiritual passion and insight that\nlingered in the hearts of obscure \"servants of God\" living in monasteries\nor in hermits' cells.\n\nTo invite these holy men to Rome--to gather them around Urban, and so show\nby triumphant witness of those in nearest fellowship with God on which\nside lay God's truth--was doubtless the political idea of a very unworldly\nsaint. Nevertheless, it commended itself to the Pope. At his request,\nthen, though probably by her own suggestion, Catherine wrote to sundry of\nthose eremites with whom she had long held spiritual converse, summoning\nthem to the Holy City. Her letters were a thrilling call to the champions\nof Christ, to cast off timidity and indolence, and betake them swiftly to\nthe field where difficulties and troubles, and it might be a martyr's\ndeath, was waiting them.\n\nIn the third of the letters that follow, Catherine gives a touching\npicture of two bewildered hermits--Dominican \"dogs of the lord\" from the\ngentle Umbrian plain--who obeyed the call. \"Old men, and far from well,\nwho have lived such a long time in their peace,\" they have made the\nlaborious journey, and are now valiantly suppressing their homesickness,\nand unsaying their involuntary complaints. But not all the hermits\nsummoned were equally docile. Visionary raptures could hardly be looked\nfor in the streets of the metropolis: dear was the seclusion of wood and\ncell. Father William Flete, whom Catherine had always persisted in\nadmiring, despite his failings, flatly declined to stir; so did his\ncomrade, Brother Antonio. The Abbot of St. Antimo, another person for whom\nshe had always entertained a deep respect, although he came, appears from\nher letters to have played the part of a coward.\n\nWe cannot be surprised if peaceable Religious who had lived their long\ndays in unbroken quiet objected to enter the unpleasant whirlpool of Roman\npolitics. A similar attitude on the part of eremites of culture is not\nunknown to-day. But their refusal was a blow to Catherine. She could\nhardly have drawn the natural conclusion that a recluse life unfitted men\nto fight for practical righteousness, but she did feel deeply troubled.\nFrom early youth she had been, as we have repeatedly seen, alive to the\ndangers of selfishness and indolence peculiarly incident to the\ncontemplative life; at the same time she had firmly believed that, did the\nflame of intercession only burn bright enough, this life might be\nprofoundly sacrificial. Now her best-beloved recluses did not stand the\ntest in the hour of trial, and their naif egotism disappointed her\nunspeakably. Her grief, her amaze, her all but scathing contempt for a\nreligion that declined to forego its inward comforts even at the dramatic\nsummons of a crisis in the Church, find expression in these letters.\nDoubtless the \"great refusal\" thus offered by men whom she had trusted\nhelped to darken her last months. Not even in the hearts of her intimates,\nnot even among the elect of God, was Catherine to find here on earth a\ncontinuing city.\n\n\n\n\nTO BROTHER WILLIAM OF ENGLAND AND BROTHER ANTONIO OF NIZZA\nAT LECCETO\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest sons in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of the\nservants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood: with desire\nto see you so lose yourselves that you shall seek nor peace nor quiet\nelsewhere than in Christ crucified, becoming an-hungered upon the table of\nthe Cross, for the honour of God, the salvation of souls, and the\nreformation of Holy Church, whom to-day we see in so great need that to\nhelp her one must come out from one's wood and renounce one's self. If one\nsees that he can bear fruit in her, it is no time to stay still nor to\nsay, \"I should forfeit my peace.\" For now that God has given us the grace\nof providing Holy Church with a good and just shepherd, who delights in\nthe servants of God, and wishes them near him, and expects to be able to\npurify the Church and uproot vices and plant virtues, without any fear of\nman, since he bears himself like a just and manly man, we others ought to\nhelp him. I shall perceive whether we have in truth conceived love for the\nreformation of Holy Church; for if it is really so, you will follow the\nwill of God and of His Vicar, will come out of your wood, and make haste\nto enter the battlefield. But if you do not do it, you will be in discord\nwith the will of God. Therefore I pray you, by the love of Christ\ncrucified, that you respond swiftly without delay to the request that the\nHoly Father makes of you. And do not hesitate because of not having a\nwood, for there are woods and forests here. Up, dearest sons, and sleep no\nmore, for it is time to watch! I say no more to you. Remain in the holy\nand sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love! In Rome, on the fifteenth\nday of December, 1378.\n\n\n\nTO BROTHER ANDREA OF LUCCA TO BROTHER BALDO AND TO BROTHER LANDO\nSERVANTS OF GOD IN SPOLETO, WHEN THEY WERE SUMMONED BY THE HOLY FATHER\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest fathers in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of\nthe servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood: with\ndesire to see you eager and ready to do the will of God, in obedience to\nHis Vicar, Pope Urban VI., in order that by you and the other servants of\nGod help may be brought to His sweet Bride. For we see her in such bitter\nstraits that she is attacked on every side by contrary winds; and you see\nthat she is especially attacked by wicked men, lovers of themselves, by\nthe perilous and evil wind of heresy and schism, which can contaminate our\nfaith. Was she ever in so great a need as now, when those who ought to\nhelp her have attacked her, and darkness is shed abroad by those whose\ntask it is to enlighten? They should nourish us with the food of souls,\nministering the Blood of Christ crucified which gives the life of grace;\nand they drag it from men's mouths, ministering eternal death, like wolves\nwho feed not the flock, but devour them. And what shall the dogs do--the\nservants of God, who are placed in the world as guardians, that they may\nbark when they see the wolf come, to awaken the chief shepherd? What are\nthey to bark with? With humble and continual prayer, and with the living\nvoice. In this way they shall terrify the demons, visible and invisible,\nand the heart and mind of our chief Shepherd, Pope Urban VI., shall\nawaken; and when he shall be wakened, we do not doubt that the mystical\nbody of Holy Church and the universal body of the Christian religion shall\nbe helped, and the flock recovered, and saved from the hands of devils.\nYou ought not to draw back for any reason: not for suffering that you\nexpected, nor for shames nor persecution, nor ridicule that might be cast\nat you; not for hunger, thirst, or death a thousand times were it\npossible; not for desire of quiet, nor of your consolations, saying: \"I\nwish my soul's peace, and I can cry out in prayer before the face of God\n(without going to Rome)\"; nay, by the love of Christ crucified. For it is\nnot now the hour to seek one's self for one's self, nor to flee pains in\norder to possess consolations; nay, it is the hour to lose one's self,\nsince the Infinite Goodness and Mercy of God has seen to the necessity of\nHoly Church, and given her a just and good shepherd, who wishes to have\nthese dogs around him, which shall bark constantly for the honour of God;\nfearing lest he sleep, and not trusting in his vigil, unless they are\nalways ready to bark to waken him. You are among those whom he has chosen.\nTherefore I beg and constrain you in Christ sweet Jesus, that you come\nswiftly, to fulfil the will of God, who wills thus, and the holy will of\nthe Vicar of Christ, that is calling you and the others.\n\nYou need not be afraid of luxuries or of great consolations; for you are\ncoming to endure, and not to enjoy yourselves, except with the joy of the\nCross. Lean your head out, and come forth into the Field, to fight\ngenuinely for truth; holding before the eye of your mind the persecution\nwrought to the Blood of Christ, and the damnation of souls; in order that\nwe may be more inspired for the battle, so that we may look back for no\npossible cause. Come, come! and do not linger, waiting for the hour, for\nthe hour does not wait us. I am sure that the Infinite Goodness of God\nwill make you know the truth. And yet I know that many, even among those\nwho are servants of God, will go to you and oppose this holy and good\nwork, thinking to speak well, in saying: \"You will go, and nothing will be\ndone.\" And I, like a presumptuous woman, say that something will be done;\nif our principal desire is not now to be fulfilled, at least the way will\nbe cleared. And even if nothing at all should be done, we have shown in\nthe sight of God and our fellow-men that we have done what we could; our\nown conscience has been aroused and unburdened. So that it is well in any\ncase. The more opposition you shall have, the clearer sign it is to you\nthat this is a good and holy work; since as we have seen, and continue to\nsee constantly, great, holy, and good works meet more opposition than\nlittle ones, because they have larger results; and therefore the devil\nhinders them in every way he can, especially by means of the servants of\nGod, through obscure deceits, under colour of virtue. I have said this to\nyou in order that you should not give up coming for any reason, but should\npresent yourselves with prompt obedience at the feet of his Holiness.\n\nDrown you in the Blood of Christ, and may our own will die in all things.\nI say no more to you. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Commend\nme to all the servants of God near you, that they may pray the Divine\nGoodness to give me grace to lay down my life for His Truth. Sweet Jesus,\nJesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO BROTHER ANTONIO OF NIZZA\nOF THE HERMIT BROTHERS OF SAINT AUGUSTINE AT THE CONVENT OF LECCETO\nNEAR SIENA\n\n\nIn the name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest son in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of the\nservants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood: with desire\nto see you founded upon the Living Rock, Christ sweet Jesus, so that the\nbuilding you shall raise on it may never be overthrown by any contrary\nwind that may strike you, but may endure wholly solid, firm, and stable,\neven till your death upon the Way of Truth. Oh, how we need this true and\nroyal foundation--not known of my ignorance! for did I truly know it, I\nshould not build upon myself, who am worse than sand, but upon that Living\nRock I spoke of. Following Christ upon the way of shame and outrage and\ninsult, I should deprive me of every consolation from whatever source,\nwithin or without, to conform myself with Him. I would not seek myself for\nmy own sake, but would care only for the honour of God, the salvation of\nsouls, and the reform of Holy Church, whom I see in so great need! Me\nmiserable, who am doing quite the contrary! But though I do wrong, dearest\nson, I would not that you and the others did; nay, I desire to see you\nfounded on this Rock. Now the hour is come that proves who is a servant of\nGod, and whether men shall seek themselves for their own sake, and God for\nthe private consolation they find in Him, and their neighbours for their\nown sake in so far as they see consolations in them--yes, or no, and\nwhether we are to believe that God may be found only in one place and not\nin another. I do not see that this is so--but find that to the true\nservant of God every place is the right place and every time is the right\ntime. So when the time comes to abandon his own consolations and embrace\nlabours for the honour of God, he does it; and when the time comes to flee\nthe wood for need of the honour of God, he does it, and betakes him to\npublic places, as did the blessed St. Antony, who although he supremely\nloved solitude, yet deserted it many times to comfort the Christians. And\nso I might tell of many other saints. This has always been the habit of\nthe true servants of God, to emerge in time of need and adversity, but not\nin the time of prosperity--nay, that they flee. There is no need to flee\njust now, through fear lest our great prosperity make our hearts sail away\nin the wind of pride and vainglory; for there is no one who can glory now\notherwise than in labours. But light seems to be failing us, dazzled as we\nare by our consolations and the hope we place in special revelations--\nthings which do not let us know the truth rightly, though we act in good\nfaith. But God, who is highest and eternal Goodness, gives us perfect and\ntrue light. I enlarge no more on this matter.\n\nIt appears, from the letter which Brother William has sent me, that\nneither he nor you is coming here. I do not intend to reply to this\nletter: but I grieve much over his simplicity, for little honour to God or\nedification to his neighbour results from it. For if he is unwilling to\ncome from humility and fear of forfeiting his peace, he ought to exercise\nthe virtue of humility, by asking permission from the Vicar of Christ\nhumbly and with gentleness, entreating his Holiness graciously to permit\nhim to stay in his wood, for his greater peace, nevertheless, as one truly\nobedient, submitting the matter to his will. Thus he would be more\npleasing to God, and would secure his own good. But he seems to have done\njust the contrary, alleging that a person who is bound to divine obedience\nought not to obey his fellow-creatures. As to other people, I should care\nvery little; but that he should include the Vicar of Christ, this does\ngrieve me much, to see him so discordant with truth. For divine obedience\nnever prevents us from obedience to the Holy Father: nay, the more perfect\nthe one, the more perfect is the other. And we ought always to be subject\nto his commands and obedient unto death. However indiscreet obedience to\nhim might seem, and however it should deprive us of mental peace and\nconsolation, we ought to obey; and I consider that to do the opposite is a\ngreat imperfection, and deceit of the devil. It appears from what he\nwrites that two servants of God have had a great revelation, to the effect\nthat Christ on earth, and whoever advised him to send for these servants\nof God, followed human and not divine counsel, and that it was rather the\ninstigation of the devil than the inspiration of God that made them wish\nto drag their servants from their peace and consolations: adding that if\nyou and the others came you would lose your spiritual life, and thus would\nbe of no help in prayer, and unable to stand by the Holy Father in spirit.\nNow really, the spiritual life is quite too lightly held if it is lost by\nchange of place. Apparently God is an acceptor of places, and is found\nonly in a wood, and not elsewhere in time of need! Then what shall we say\n--we who, on the one hand, wish that the Church of God be reformed, the\nthorns uprooted, and the fragrant flowers the servants of God planted\nthere; and, on the other hand, we are told that to send for them, and drag\nthem from their mental peace and quiet in order that they may come to help\nthat little Ship is a wile of the devil? At least, let a man speak for\nhimself, and not speak of the other servants of God--for among the\nservants of the world we are not to count ourselves. Not thus have done\nBrother Andrea of Lucca, nor Brother Paolina, those great servants of God,\nold men and far from well, who have lived such a long time in their peace:\nbut at once, with all their weariness and disabilities they put themselves\non the road, and have come, and fulfilled their obedience: and although\ndesire constrains them to return to their cells, they are not therefore\nwilling to throw off the yoke, but say: \"What I have said, be it unsaid!\"\n--disregarding their self-will and their personal consolations. One comes\nhere to endure: not for honours, but for the dignity of many labours, with\ntears, vigils and continual prayers; thus should one do. Now let us not\nweigh ourselves down with more words. May God by His mercy send us clear\nvision, and guide us in the way of truth, and give us true and perfect\nlight, that we may never walk among shadows. I beg you, you and the\nBachellor, and the other servants of God, to pray the Humble Lamb that He\nmake me walk in His Way. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet\nJesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\nTO QUEEN GIOVANNA OF NAPLES\n(WRITTEN IN TRANCE)\n\n\nGiovanna, recalcitrant, has failed to respond to the entreaties of\nCatherine. Her temporary espousal of the cause of Urban has made only more\npainful her reversion to the side of Clement. \"You see your subjects\npitted against each other like beasts through this unhappy division,\"\nwrites Catherine in another letter. \"Oh me! how is it that your heart does\nnot burst, to endure that they should be divided by you, and one hold to\nthe white rose and one the red, one to truth and one to falsehood?\nMisfortunate my soul! Do you not see that they are all created in that\nvery pure rose, the eternal will of God, and re-created by grace in that\nvery burning rose, crimson with the Blood of Christ, in which we were\nwashed from sin in Baptism? Consider that nor you nor another ever so\nbathed them or gave them that glorious rose, but only our Mother, Holy\nChurch, through the highest Pontiff who holds the keys, Pope Urban VI. How\ncan your soul bear to take from them that which you cannot give? If this\ndoes not move you, are you not at least moved by the shame into which you\nare fallen in the sight of the world? This much more since your change\nthan before; for lately you confessed the truth and your wrong, and showed\nyourself willing to throw yourself like a daughter upon the mercy of your\nfather; and since then you have wrought worse than ever, whether because\nyour heart was not pure, and feigned what was not there, or because\njustice willed that I should anew do penance for my ancient sins, that I\ndo not merit to see you in peace and quiet, feeding at the breasts of Holy\nChurch. It is such a pain to me, that I cannot bear a greater cross in\nthis life, when I consider the letter which I received from you, in which\nyou confessed that Pope Urban was the true highest father and priest, and\nsaid that you were willing to be obedient to him, and now I find the\ncontrary.\"\n\nIn the present letter Catherine pours forth to the yet living woman a\nsorrowful elegy over the dead soul. She argues no longer; the political\naspect of the situation is for the time being overshadowed by the grief\nwith which she contemplates the hardened sin and coming doom of the woman\nto whom her heart had from her youth up gone out with an especial\ntenderness, and in whom she had hoped at one time to see a true Defender\nof the Faith. It will be noticed that she writes in trance. Whatever may\nhave been the nature of that mysterious state, we may be sure that\nthoughts then uttered came from the depths of her being which lie below\nconsciousness, and we may so gain an additional evidence of the intensity\nof her feeling concerning Giovanna.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest mother in Christ sweet Jesus: I, Catherine, servant and slave of\nthe servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood, with\ndesire to see you compassionate to your own soul and body. For if we are\nnot merciful to our own souls, the mercy and pity of others would avail us\nlittle. The soul treats itself with great cruelty when of its own accord\nit puts the knife with which it can be killed in the hands of its foe. For\nour foes have no weapons with which they can hurt us. They would be very\nglad to, but they cannot, because will alone can hurt us; and as for the\nwill, neither demon nor creature can move it, nor force it to one least\nfault more than it chooses. So the perverse will which consents to the\nmalice of our foes is a knife which kills the soul that gives it into the\nhand of these foes with its own free choice. Which shall we call the more\ncruel--the foes or the very person who receives the blow? It is we who are\nmore cruel, for we consent to our own death.\n\nWe have three chief foes. First, the devil, who is weak if I do not make\nhim strong by consenting to his malice. He loses his strength in the power\nof the Blood of the humble and spotless Lamb. The world with all its\nhonours and delights, which is our foe, is also weak, save in so far as we\nstrengthen it to hurt us by possessing these things with intemperate love.\nIn the gentleness, humility, poverty, in the shame and disgrace of Christ\ncrucified, this tyrant the world is destroyed. Our third foe, our own\nfrailty, was made weak; but reason strengthens it by the union which God\nhas made with our humanity, arraying the Word with our humanity, and by\nthe death of that sweet and loving Word, Christ crucified. So we are\nstrong, and our foes are weak.\n\nIt is very true, then, that we are more cruel to ourselves than our foes\nare. For without our help they cannot kill nor hurt us, since God has not\ngiven them to us that we might be vanquished, but that we might vanquish\nthem. Then our fortitude and constancy are proved. But I do not see that\nwe can avoid such cruelty and become merciful without the light of most\nholy faith, opening the eye of the mind to behold how displeasing it is to\nGod and harmful to soul and body, and how pleasing to God and useful to\nour salvation is mercy.\n\nDearest mother--mother I say in so far as I see you to be a faithful\ndaughter of Holy Church--it seems to me that you have no mercy on\nyourself. Oh me! oh me! because I love you I grieve over the evil state of\nyour soul and body. I would willingly lay down my life to prevent this\ncruelty. Many times I have written you in compassion, showing you that\nwhat is shown you for truth is a lie; and the rod of divine justice, which\nis ready for you if you do not flee so great wrong. It is a human thing to\nsin, but perseverance in sin is a thing of the devil. Oh me! there is none\nwho tells you the truth, nor do you seek among the servants of God those\nwho might tell it you, that you should not stay in a state of\ncondemnation. Oh, how blessed my soul would be could I come into your\nparts, and lay down my life to restore to you the good of heaven and the\ngood of earth; to take from you the knife of cruelty, with which you have\nkilled yourself, and help to give you that of mercy, which kills vice; so\nthat you should clothe you in the holy fear of God and love of truth, and\nbind you in His sweet will!\n\nOh me, do not await the time which you are not sure of having! Do not\nchoose that my eyes should have to shed rivers of tears over your wretched\nsoul and body--a soul which I hold as my own! If I consider that soul, I\nsee that it is dead, because separated from its body; it persecutes, not\nPope Urban VI., but our truth and faith. I expected, mother and daughter\nmine, as you used to write to me, that through you these should be spread\namong the infidels by means of divine grace, and declared and helped among\nus, defended when we should see a taint appear, from those who have been\nor were contaminated. Now I see quite the contrary appear in you, through\nthe evil counsel which has been given you for my sins. You have received\nit as one merciless toward your salvation; and I see that there will be no\nhuman creature who can restore your loss, but you yourself must render\nthis account before the highest Judge. You did not offend through\nignorance, not knowing the right, for the truth was shown to you; but you\ndo not know how to turn back from that which you have begun, because the\nknife of perverse and selfish will destroys knowledge and choice, making\nyou hold that as shame which is your greatest honour. For perseverance in\nfault and in such an evil is greatest disgrace, and displays one as a sign\nof shame before the eyes of one's fellow-creatures; but to escape from\nthem is greatest honour; and by honour and the odour of virtue, shame is\nescaped and the stench of vice extinguished.\n\nAnd if I consider your condition as to those temporal and transitory goods\nthat pass like the wind--you yourself have deprived yourself of them by\nright. You have only to receive the last sentence of being deprived of\nthem by deed, and published a heretic. My heart breaks and cannot break,\nfrom the fear that I have lest the devil so obscure the eye of your mind\nthat you endure that loss, and such shame and confusion as I should repute\ngreater than the loss that you would suffer. And you cannot hide it with\nsaying, \"This would be done to me unjustly, and the thing which is\nunjustly inflicted casts no shame.\" That cannot be said; for it would be\ndone justly, both because of the fault you have committed, and because he\ncan do it as highest and true pontiff that he is, chosen by the Truth in\ntruth. For were he not so, you would not have offended. So that it would\nbe just. But he has refrained from doing this through love, as a benignant\nfather who waits for his son to correct himself. Yet I fear that he may do\nit, constrained by justice, and by your long perseverance in evil. And I\ndo not say this as one who does not know what she is saying.\n\nAnd if you said to me, \"I do not care about this, for I am strong and\nmighty, and I have other lords who will help me, and I know that he is\nweak\"--I reply to you that he wearies himself in vain who will guard the\ncity with force and with great zeal, if God guard it not. And can you say\nthat you have God with you? We cannot say it, for you have put Him against\nyou for putting yourself against truth; you have put you against Him, and\nit is truth that sets him free who holds thereto, and none there is who\ncan confound it. Therefore you have reason to fear, and not to trust in\nyour strength and power, had you yet more of them than you have. And he\nhas reason to comfort his weakness in Christ sweet Jesus, whose place he\nholds, trusting in His strength and aid, who shall send him aid from such\na side as we cannot imagine. And you know that if God is for you, none\nshall be against you.\n\nThen let us fear God, and tremble beneath the rod of His justice. Let us\ncorrect us, and advance no further. Be merciful to yourself, and you shall\ncall down the mercy of God upon you. Have compassion on the many souls who\nare perishing through you; of whom you will have to render account before\nGod at the last extremity of death. There is yet healing for us, and time\nwherein we can return; and He will receive you with great benignity. I am\nsure that if you will be merciful and not cruel to your soul and also to\nyour body, you will do this, and will have pity upon your subjects: in\notherwise, no. Therefore I said that I desired to see you merciful and not\ncruel to your soul. And thus I pray you, through the love of Christ\ncrucified, that at least you hold and will to be held, the truth which was\nannounced to you and to the other lords of the world. And if you should\nsay, \"It is still doubtful to me,\" stay neutral till it is made clear to\nyou, and do not do what you should not. Desire illumination and counsel\nfrom those whom you see to fear God, and not from members of the devil,\nwho would counsel you ill in that which they do not hold for themselves.\nFear, fear God, and place Him before your eyes, and think that God sees\nyou, and His eye is upon you, and His justice wills that every fault be\npunished and every good rewarded. Be merciful, ah, be merciful to\nyourself! I say naught else to you. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of\nGod. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nTO BROTHER RAIMONDO\nOF THE PREACHING ORDER WHEN HE WAS IN GENOA\n\n\nIn more grievous ways than any yet noted, Catherine was to be wounded in\nthe house of her friends. The letters already given have shown us how\ntenderly intimate, on the human as well as on the spiritual side, were her\nrelations with the father of her soul, \"given her by that sweet mother,\nMary.\" One shares her affection for good Father Raimondo as one reads the\nlegend. His figure might well have belonged to the trecento rather than to\nthe more strenuous age that followed. He was the simplest, the most modest\nof men--albeit by no means lacking in homely shrewdness; he was also one\nof the least heroic. Catherine, like most uplifted natures, demanded\nheroism from those dear to her, as a matter of course. Others wish for\ntheir beloved ease, delights, the gratification of ambition and desire;\nCatherine sought for them sorrow, hardships, the opportunity to offer\ntheir lives in exalted sacrifice for the sins of the Church and the world.\nShe craved for them only less passionately than for herself, the crowning\ngrace of martyrdom. Now Fra Raimondo had no affinity whatever for\nmartyrdom. His chance at it came, in the fortunes of those stern times,\nand was promptly rejected. Urban, perhaps at Catherine's instigation, had\ndespatched him to the King of France, and Raimondo had bidden his\nspiritual daughter and mother a solemn farewell, surmising doubtless that\nhe was to see her face no more. He proceeded to the port of Genoa,\nplanning thence to set sail for France. But the galleys of the antipope\nsought to debar the passage; and Raimondo, accepting the obstacle (one\nimagines with much ease), allowed himself to give up the expedition.\n\nCatherine wrote him two letters on the matter. The first is brief, and\nhalf-playful in tone: \"Oh my naughty father\" (_cativello padre mio_) she\nsays, \"How blessed your soul and mine would have been could you have\nsealed with your blood a stone in Holy Church! I do wish I could see you\nrisen above your childishness--see you shed your milk teeth and eat bread,\nthe mustier the better!\" Evidently Raimondo had answered this letter,\nwriting, one imagines, in a deprecating tone, fearing lest Catherine may\nlove him the less for his failure, yet after all assuming--so strong is\nour expectation of finding our own attitude in our friends--that she will\nrejoice in his escape. In this her reply she tells her whole heart.\nSurely, few more pathetic revelations of disappointed yet faithful\naffection have drifted to us on the tide of the ages. Catherine was at\nthis time far advanced upon her own Via Dolorosa. One of the stations of\nher sorrow had been the parting with her friend: \"And you have left me\nhere, and have gone away with God.\" Here was another station, marked by a\ndeeper pain: \"Faithful obedience would have done more in the sight of God\nand men than all human prudence; my sins have prevented me from seeing it\nin you.\" With a glad suffering she had given Raimondo up to the service of\nGod; with a suffering that was bitterly shamed, she saw him false to his\ncalling. She utters no vain reproaches. In her own way she begins with\nearnest self-accusations, and proceeds to comfort the weakness of the man\nwho should have been her guide with tender and subtly-reasoned assurances\nof her unchanged affection. At the same time she does not flinch from\nuncondoning, scathing statement of his sin and of her disillusion.\nConsiderate, delicate, even courteous to a degree, the letter yet reveals\nin every line the sense of solitude which the action of Raimondo had\ncaused her. There is no rebellion in her spirit: \"I hold me none the less\nin peace, because I am certain that nothing happens without mystery,\" she\nsighs. But we grieve with a new, awestruck perception of the loneliness of\nher great soul, as we realize that to Raimondo was to be given perforce\nher deepest confidence in the passion upon which she was even now\nentering.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest father in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of\nthe servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood: with\ndesire to see in you the light of most holy faith. This is a light which\nshows us the way of truth, and without it no activity, or desire, or work\nof ours would come to fruition, or to the end for which we began it; but\neverything would become imperfect--slow we should be in the love of God\nand of our neighbour. This is the reason: seemingly love is as great as\nfaith, and faith is as great as love. He who loves is always faithful to\nhim whom he loves, and faithfully serves him till death. By this I\nperceive that in truth I do not love God, nor the creatures through God:\nfor if in truth I loved Him, I should be faithful in such wise that I\nshould give myself to death a thousand times a day, were it needful and\npossible, for the glory and praise of His Name, and faith would not fail\nme, since for the love of God and of virtue and of Holy Church I should\nset myself to endure. So I should believe that God was my help and my\ndefender, as He was of those glorious martyrs who went with gladness to\nthe place of martyrdom. Were I faithful I should not fear, but I should\nhold for sure that the same God is for me who was for them; and His power\nto provide for my necessities is not weakened as to capacity, knowledge,\nor will. But because I do not love, I do not really trust myself to Him,\nbut the sensuous fear in me shows me that love is lukewarm, and the light\nof faith is darkened by faithlessness toward my Creator, and by trusting\nin myself. I confess and deny not that this root of evil is not yet\nuprooted from my soul, and therefore those works are hindered which God\nwants to do or puts in my way, so that they do not reach the lucid and\nfruitful end for which God had them begun. Ah me, ah me, my Lord! Woe to\nme miserable! And shall I find myself thus every time, in every place, and\nin every state? Shall I always close with my faithlessness the way to Thy\nprovidence? Yes, truly, if indeed Thou by Thy mercy do not unmake me, and\nmake me anew. Then, Lord, unmake me, and break the hardness of my heart,\nthat I be not a tool which spoils Thy works!\n\nAnd I beg you, dearest father, to pray earnestly that I and you both\ntogether may drown ourselves in the Blood of the humble Lamb, which will\nmake us strong and faithful. We shall feel the fire of the divine charity:\nwe shall be co-workers with His grace, and not undoers or spoilers of it.\nSo we shall show that we are faithful to God, and trust in His help, and\nnot in our knowledge nor in that of men.\n\nWith this same faith we shall love the creature; for as love of the\nneighbour proceeds from love of God, so with faith, in general and in\nparticular; as there is a general faith corresponding to the love which we\nought to feel in general to every creature, so there is a special faith\nbelonging to those who love one another more intimately: like this, which\nbeyond the common love has established between us two a close particular\nlove, a love which faith manifests. So much love does it manifest that it\ncannot believe nor imagine that one of us wishes anything else than the\nother's good; and it believes earnestly, for it seeks this with great\ninsistence in the sight of God and men, seeking ever in the other the\nglory of the name of God and the profit of his soul; constraining Divine\nHelp, that as it adds burdens it may add fortitude and long perseverance.\nSuch faith bears he who loves, and never lessens it for any reason,\nneither for speech of man nor illusion of the devil, nor change of place.\nIf anyone does otherwise, it is a sign that he loves God and his neighbour\nimperfectly.\n\nApparently, as I understood by your letter, many diverse battles befell\nyou, and troubled reflections, through the deceit of the devil and through\nyour own sensuous passion, it seeming to you that a burden was imposed on\nyou greater than you can bear. You did not seem to yourself strong enough\nfor me to measure you with my measure, and on this account you were in\ndoubt lest my affection and love to you were diminished. But you did not\nsee aright, and it was you who showed that I had grown to love more, and\nyou less; for with the love with which I love myself, with that I love\nyou, in the lively faith that all which is lacking on your part, God will\ncomplete by His goodness. But this is not done yet, for you have known how\nto find ways to throw your load down to earth. You present us many scraps\nof excuses to cover up your faithless frailty, but not in such wise that I\ndo not see it quite enough now, and good it will seem to me if it is not\nperceived by anyone but me. Yes, yes, I show you a love increased in me\ntoward you, and not waning. But what shall I say? How could your ignorance\ngive place to one of the least of those thoughts? Could you ever believe\nthat I wished anything else than the life of your soul? Where is the faith\nthat you always used to have and ought to have, and the certainty that you\nhave had, that before a thing is done, it is seen and determined in the\nsight of God--not only this, which is so great a deed, but every least\nthing? Had you been faithful, you would not have gone about vacillating\nso, nor fallen into fear toward God and toward me; but like a faithful\nson, ready for obedience, you would have gone and done what you could. And\nif you could not have gone upright, you would have gone on all fours; if\nyou could not have gone as a Frate, you would have gone as a pilgrim; if\nthere is no money for us, one would have gone begging. This faithful\nobedience would have accomplished more in the sight of God and in the\nhearts of men than all human prudences. My sins have prevented me from\nseeing it in you.\n\nNevertheless I am quite sure, that although selfish passion was there, you\nyet had and have holy and good regard to fulfil better the will of God and\nthat of Christ on earth, Pope Urban VI. Not that I would have had you\nstay, though; nay, but take to the road at once, in whatever fashion and\nby whatever way had been open to you. Day and night I was constrained by\nGod concerning many other things also; which, through the carelessness of\nhim who has to do them, but chiefly through my sins which hinder every\ngood, are all coming to nothing. And thus, ah me! we see ourselves\ndrowning, and offences against God increasing, with many torments; and I\nlive in an agony of delay. May God, in His mercy, soon take me from this\nlife of shadows!\n\nWe see in the kingdom of Naples that this last disaster is worse than the\nfirst; and so many evils are likely to happen there, that may God remedy\nthem! But He in His pity showed the disaster, and the remedies that ought\nto be applied. But, as I said, the abundance of my faults hinders all\ngood. I shall have a great deal to say to you about these matters, should\nI not receive the greatest grace, that of release from earth before I see\nyou again.\n\nYes, as I say, I do entirely wish that you had gone. Nevertheless I hold\nme in peace, because I am certain that nothing happens without mystery;\nand also because I unburdened my conscience, doing what I could that a\nmessenger should be sent to the King of France. May the clemency of the\nHoly Spirit achieve it! For we by ourselves are bad workmen.\n\nAs for going quickly to the King of Hungary, it is clear that the Holy\nFather would be well enough pleased, and he had planned that you should go\nwith other companions. Now, I do not know why, he has changed his mind,\nand wishes you to stay where you are, and do what good you can. I beg you\nto be zealous about it.\n\nAbandon yourself, and every personal pleasure and consolation; and let\nturfs be thrown upon those who are dead, and with the cords of humble\ndesire and holy prayer let the hands of divine justice be bound, the\ndevil, and fleshly appetite. We are offered dead in the garden of Holy\nChurch, and to Christ on earth, the lord of that garden. Then let us do\nthe works of the dead. The dead man does not see nor hear nor feel. Be\nstrong to slay yourself with the knife of hate and love, that you may not\nhear the derision, the insults, the reproaches of the world, which the\npersecutors of Holy Church would offer you. Let not your eyes see things\nas impossible to do, nor the torment that may follow; but let them see\nwith the light of faith that through Christ crucified you can do all\nthings, and that God will not impose a greater burden than can be borne.\nWhy, we are to rejoice in great burdens, because then God gives us the\ngift of fortitude. With the love of endurance, fleshly sensitiveness is\nlost; and thus dead, dead, we may nourish ourselves in this garden. When I\nsee this, I shall account my soul as blessed. I tell you, sweetest father,\nthat whether we will or no, the times to-day summon us to die. Then be no\nmore alive! End pains in pain, and increase the joy of holy desire in the\npain; that our life may pass no otherwise than in crucified desire, and\nthat we may give our bodies willingly to be eaten by beasts; that is, for\nthe love of virtue let us willingly fling ourselves upon the tongues and\nhands of bestial men, as did those others who have worked, dead, in this\nsweet garden, and watered it with their blood, but first with their tears\nand sweats. And I--(grievous my life!)--because I have not given enough\nwater to it, was refused permission to give it my blood. I will it to be\nno more thus, but be our life renewed and the fire of desire increased!\n\nYou ask me to pray the Divine Goodness to give you the fire of Vincent, of\nLawrence, and of sweet Paul, and that of the charming John--saying that\nthen you will do great things. And so I shall be glad. Surely I say the\ntruth, that without this fire you would not do anything, neither little\nnor big, nor should I be glad in you.\n\nTherefore, considering that it is so, and that I have seen it proved, an\nimpulse has grown in me, with great zeal in the sweet sight of God. Were\nyou near me in the body, truly I would show you that it is so, and would\ngive you other than words. I rejoice, and I want you to rejoice; for,\nsince this desire grows, He will fulfil it in you and me, because He\naccepts holy and true desires; provided that you open the eye of your mind\nin the light of holiest faith, that you may know the truth of the will of\nGod. Knowing it you will love it, and loving it you will be faithful, and\nyour heart will not be overshadowed by any wile of the devil. Being\nfaithful, you will do every great thing in God: what He puts into your\nhands will be fulfilled perfectly; that is, it will not be hindered on\nyour part from coming to perfection. With this light you will be cautious,\nmodest, and weighty in speech and conversation and in all your works and\nway; but without it you would do quite the contrary in your ways and\nhabits, and everything else would turn out contrary for you.\n\nSo, knowing that this is the case, I desired to see in you the light of\nmost holy faith; and so I want you to have it. And because I want this,\nand love you immeasurably for your salvation, and desire with great desire\nto see you in the state of the perfect, therefore I pray you with many\nwords--but I would do so more willingly in deed; and I use reproaches with\nyou, in order that you may return continually to yourself. I have done my\nbest, and I shall do so, to make you assume the burden of the perfect for\nthe honour of God, and ask His goodness to make you reach the last state\nof perfection; that is, to shed your blood for Holy Church, whether your\nservant the flesh will it or no. Lose you in the Blood of Christ\ncrucified, and bear my faults and words with good patience. And whenever\nyour faults may be shown you, rejoice, and thank the Divine Goodness,\nwhich has assigned someone to labour over you, who watches for you in His\nsight.\n\nAs to what you write me, that antichrist and his members seek diligently\nto have you, do not fear; for God is strong to take away their light and\ntheir force, that they may not fulfil their desires. Beside, you ought to\nthink that you are not worthy of so great a good, and so you need not\nfear. Take confidence; for sweet Mary and the Truth will be for you\nalways.\n\nI, vile slave, who am placed in the Field, where blood was shed for the\nlove of Blood--(and you have left me here, and gone away with God)--shall\nnever pause from working for you. I beg you so to do that you give me no\nmatter for mourning, nor for shaming me in the sight of God. As you are a\nman in promising the will to do and bear for the honour of God, do not\nthen turn into a woman when we come to the shutting of the lock; for I\nshould appeal against you to Christ crucified and to Mary. Beware lest it\nhappen later to you as to the abbot of St. Antimo, who, through fear and\nunder colour of not tempting God, left Siena and came to Rome, supposing\nthat he had escaped his prison and was safe; and he was thrown into\nprison, with the punishment that you know. So are pusillanimous hearts\ncured. Be, then, be all a man: that death may be granted you.\n\nI beg you to pardon me whatever I might have said that was not honour to\nGod and due reverence to yourself: let love excuse it. I say no more to\nyou. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God. I ask your benediction.\nSweet Jesus, Jesus Love!\n\n\n\n\nTO URBAN VI\n\n\nThis is the last letter to Urban that we possess. If, as seems likely, it\nis also the last that Catherine wrote to him, it must have been written on\nthe Monday after Sexagesima, 1380, under circumstances which she describes\nfor us in the next letter to be given. She had already at the time entered\nupon the mystical agony which preceded her _transitus_.\n\nThe letter alludes to historic details of which we have no knowledge and\nfor which we do not care. Yet it has rare interest. That exquisite\nsweetness which often blends in so unique a way with Catherine's\nauthoritative tone, was never more evident. Urban's impetuous\ninconsistencies, and the irrational gusts of anger which were by this time\nalienating even his friends, could not be more clearly nor more gently\nrebuked. One's heart aches at the thought of what manner of man he was to\nwhom this sensitive and high-minded woman was forced by her faith to give\nnot only allegiance but championship. Not once during Catherine's active\nlife was she allowed to fight in a clear cause, or at least in a cause in\nwhich sympathies could be undivided; the pathos of the situation is\nevident in the meek and patient firmness of her tone. But the letter has a\ndeeper interest, if it is really the last she wrote to him. Knowing the\ncircumstances of its composition, we must be amazed at the lucidity of her\nthought and words, at the steady and definite wisdom with which she\ndiscusses the movement of events in the outer world. It is surely\nsignificant to the psychologist that a woman in the throes of such an\nexperience as the next letters present, could write in such a strain. The\nwhole life of Catherine, indeed, refutes the popular opinion that mystics\ncannot be trusted to sane judgment or sustained wisdom of action in the\nconfused affairs of this world.\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest and sweetest father in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, your poor\nunworthy daughter, write to you with great desire to see a prudence and\nsweet light of truth in you, in such wise that I may see you follow the\nglorious St. Gregory, and govern Holy Church with such prudence that it\nmay never be necessary to take back anything which may be ordered or done\nby your Holiness; even the least word; so that your firmness grounded in\nthe truth may be evident in the sight of God and men, as ought to be the\ncase with the true holy High Priest. I pray the inestimable charity of God\nthat He clothe your soul in this; for it seems to me that light and\nprudence are very necessary indeed to us, and especially to your Holiness\nand to anyone else who might be in your place; most chiefly in these\ncurrent times. Because I know that you have a desire to find these in\nyourself, I remind you of them, showing you the desire of your own soul.\n\nI have heard, holy father, of the reply which the violence of the Prefect\nmade; surely in violence of wrath and irreverence toward the Roman\nambassadors. On which reply it seems that they are to hold a General\nCouncil, and then the heads of the wards and certain other good men are to\ncome to you. I beg you, most holy father, that as you have begun so you\nwill continue to meet with them often, and to bind them prudently with the\nbands of love. So I beg you that now, as to what they will say to you when\nthe Council is held, you will receive them with as much gentleness as you\ncan, showing them what your Holiness thinks must be done. Pardon me--for\nlove makes me say what perhaps there is no need of saying, since I know\nthat you must understand the temperament of your Roman sons, who are drawn\nand held more with gentleness than with any force or asperity of words;\nand also you recognize the great necessity in which you are, and Holy\nChurch, to keep this people in obedience and reverence toward your\nHoliness; because the head and beginning of our faith is here. And I\nhumbly beg you, that you will aim prudently always to promise that which\nit ought to be possible to you fully to perform, so that loss, shame, and\nconfusion may not follow later. Pardon me, most sweet and holy father, for\nsaying these words to you. I am confident that your humility and benignity\nare content that they should be said, and will not feel distaste or scorn\nfor them because they come from the mouth of a most despicable woman; for\nthe humble man does not consider who speaks to him, but pays note to the\nhonour of God, and to truth and his own salvation.\n\nComfort you, and do not fear on account of any bad reply which this rebel\nagainst your Holiness may have made or may make, for God will care for\nthis and for everything else, as Ruler and Helper of the ship of Holy\nChurch, and of your Holiness. Be you manful for me, in the holy fear of\nGod; wholly exemplary in your words, your habits, and all your deeds. Let\nall shine clear in the sight of God and men; as a light placed in the\ncandlestick of Holy Church, to which looks and should look all the\nChristian people.\n\nAlso I beg you that you should bring us some help for what Leo told you;\nfor this scandal grows greater every day, not only through the thing that\nwas done to the Sienese ambassador, but also through the other things\nwhich are seen day by day, which are enough to provoke to wrath the feeble\nhearts of men. You do not need this person now, but someone who shall be a\nmeans of peace, and not of war. Although he may act with a good zeal for\njustice, there are many who do so with such disorder and such impulse of\nwrath that they depart from all reason and measure. Therefore I earnestly\nbeg your Holiness to condescend to the infirmity of men, and provide a\nphysician who shall know how to cure the infirmity better than he. And do\nnot wait so long that death shall follow: for I tell you that if no other\nhelp is found, the infirmity will grow.\n\nThen recall to yourself the disaster that fell upon all Italy, because bad\nrulers were not guarded against, who governed in such wise that they were\nthe cause of the Church of God being despoiled. I know that you are aware\nof this: now let your Holiness see what is to be done. Comfort you,\ncomfort you sweetly; for God does not despise your desire, nor the prayer\nof His servants. I say no more to you. Remain in the holy and sweet Grace\nof God. Humbly I ask your benediction. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.\n\n\n\n\nLETTERS DESCRIBING THE EXPERIENCE PRECEDING DEATH\n\n\n\"Fightings and fears within, without,\" had long been Catherine's portion.\nNow the end was at hand. From girlhood she had confronted a great\ncontradiction. The sharpest trial to Christian faith throughout the ages\nis probably the spectacle presented by the visible Church of Christ. This\nabiding parable of the contrast between ideal and actual was perhaps never\nmore painful to the devout soul than in Catherine's time, and perhaps we\nare safe in saying that no one ever suffered from it more than she. Her\nwhole life was an Act of Faith: faith the more heroic because maintained\nagainst the recurrent attacks of spiritual doubt and despair. At more than\none point in her career we see her, overwhelmed by the seeming failure of\nthe divine purpose, lifting her whole being into the Presence of God,\nthere to receive reassurance, none the less satisfying to her vigorous\nintellect because conveyed through the channel of mystic ecstasy.\n\nOne such experience may be quoted here. It dates apparently from the time\nof her greatest disappointment in Gregory; we can judge of its\nsignificance and depth from the fact that she afterward recorded it more\nfully, and used it as the basis for the first book of her \"Dialogue.\"\n\"Comfort you, dearest father,\" she writes to Raimondo: \"Concerning the\nsweet Bride of Christ: for the more she abounds in tribulations and\nbitterness, so much the more Divine Truth promises to make her abound in\nsweetness.... When I had thoroughly understood your letters, I begged a\nservant of God to offer tears and sweats before God, for the Bride and\nbecause of the 'Babbo's' weakness.\n\n\"Whence instantly, by divine grace, there grew in her a desire and\ngladness beyond all measure. She waited for the morning to have Mass, it\nbeing the Day of Mary; and when the hour of Mass had come, took her place\nwith true self-knowledge, abasing herself before God for her imperfection.\nAnd rising above herself with eager desire, and gazing with the eye of her\nmind into Eternal Truth, she made four petitions there, holding herself\nand her father in the Presence of the Bride of Truth.\n\n\"First, the reform of Holy Church. Then God, letting Himself be\nconstrained by tears and bound by the cords of her desire, said: 'Sweetest\nMy daughter, thou seest how she has soiled her face with impurity and\nself-love, and become swollen by the pride and avarice of those who feed\nat her bosom. But take thy tears and sweat, drawing them from the fountain\nof My divine charity, and cleanse her face. For I promise thee that her\nbeauty shall not be restored to her by the sword, nor by cruelty or war,\nbut by peace, and humble continual prayers, tears and sweats, poured forth\nfrom the grieving desires of My servants. So thy desire shall be fulfilled\nin long abiding, and My providence shall in no wise fail you.'\n\n\"Although the salvation of all the whole world was contained in this,\nnevertheless the prayer reached out more in particular, entreating for the\nwhole world. Then God showed in how great love He had created man, and He\nsaid: 'Now thou seest that every one is striking at Me. See, daughter,\nwith what diverse and many sins they strike at Me, and especially with\ntheir wretched abominable self-love, whence issues every evil, with which\nthey have poisoned the whole world. Do you then, My servants, adorn you in\nMy Presence with many prayers, and so you shall mitigate the wrath of\ndivine justice. And know that no one can escape from My Hands. Open the\neye of thy mind and gaze upon My Hand.' And lifting her eyes she saw held\nin His grasp all the universal world. Then He said: 'I will that thou know\nthat no one can be taken from Me; for all are under either justice or\nmercy; therefore all are Mine. And because they came forth from Me, I love\nthem unspeakably, and shall show them mercy by means of My servants.'\nThen, the flame of desire increasing, that woman abode as one blessed and\ngrieving, and gave thanks to the Divine Goodness: as perceiving that God\nhad showed her the faults of His creatures that she might be constrained\nto arise with more zeal and greater desire. And so greatly increased the\nholy fire of love, that she despised the sweat of water she poured forth,\nthrough her great desire to see a sweat of blood pour from her body: and\nshe said to herself, 'Soul mine, thou hast wasted thy whole life.\nTherefore have so great losses and evils fallen on the world and on Holy\nChurch, in general and in particular. So now I wish thee to atone with\nsweat of blood.' Then that soul, spurred on by holy desire, arose much\nhigher, and opened the eye of her mind, and gazed into the Divine Charity:\nwhere she saw and felt how much we are bound to seek the glory and praise\nof the Name of God in the salvation of souls.\"\n\nIn this remarkable passage we see Catherine's high and increasing sense of\nresponsibility. Her tears and sweats are to cleanse the face of the\nChurch, and through the grieving desire of the servants of God, redemption\nis to be accomplished. She was never, as we know, one of those Christian\nfatalists whose optimism leads them to inaction. From the day when,\nreluctant, she left her little cell, she threw her power with unwearied\nconstancy and courage into the life of her day, repugnant though its\nproblems might be to her natural temper. Catherine was, however,\nprofoundly convinced that social salvation was to be wrought, not by work\nalone, but also by prayer; or rather, for the antithesis is false, that\nthe forces which re-create society are set in motion in the invisible\nsphere. Constant intercession, and the uplifting of that \"holy desire\"\nwhich is the watchword of her teaching into a sacrificial passion--these\nare the means from which she hoped for reform and purification. In younger\nlife, she is said to have prayed that she might be made a stopper in the\nmouth of Hell to prevent other souls from entering; through the quaint\nmediaeval figure one reads the prevailing impulse of her life.\n\nThe longer Catherine lived, the darker became the religious prospect. She\nsaw her aims in practical politics realized one by one, only to mock her\nby spiritual failure. Those whom she best loved disappointed her ideal.\nShe witnessed iniquity in high religious places, violence and corruption\nenlisted in the defence of truth. As she watched these things, the sense\nof an inward expiation to be accomplished became overpowering. It summoned\nher to death, and at the same time offered her a unique consolation.\n\nThese letters must now speak for themselves. They were written shortly\nbefore her death to Fra Raimondo, who, sadly though he had failed her,\nremained her most trusted friend. We have impressive accounts from other\nsources of Catherine's slow _transitus_--of the long weeks during which\nshe was literally dying, and by her own choice, of a broken heart. They\ncorroborate many of the details here given. But of still higher value is\nthis transcript by the woman herself--minutely painstaking, while yet\nobviously composed under strong excitement--of the experience in the\nsecret places of her soul. The first of these letters is written under\nstress of emotion so intense that coherence is hardly possible. The mind\nis baffled in seeking to find human speech which shall even adumbrate\nreality. What Catherine has to describe is the culmination of her earthly\nlife: the final triumph of faith over despair, the final offering of\nherself as a sacrificial victim, in obedience, as she believes, to the\nexpress Voice of God. The second letter is more calm. The sacrifice has\nbeen accepted. She is dying, not indeed by the violence of men, like the\nmartyrs for whose fate she has yearned, but by the agony of her own heart,\nbreaking for the sins of Holy Church. \"I in this way,\" she writes\nexulting, \"as the holy martyrs with blood.\" And her agony is serene and\njoyous; her last thoughts are for others; her soul is full of the victory\nof peace. Outwardly, all was confusion around her; but her own life--the\nonly region in which unity is within our reach--was rounded into a\nharmonious whole. To read the expression of that life in her letters is to\nfollow one of those tragedies that are the salvation of the world.\n\n\n\n\nTO MASTER RAIMONDO OF CAPUA\n\n\n... I was breathless with grief from the crucified desire which had been\nnewly conceived in the sight of God. For the light of the mind had\nmirrored itself in the Eternal Trinity; and in that abyss was seen the\ndignity of rational being, and the misery into which man falls by fault of\nmortal sin, and the necessity of Holy Church, which God revealed to His\nservant's bosom; and how no one can attain to enjoy the beauty of God in\nthe abyss of the Trinity but by means of that sweet Bride; for it befits\nall to pass by the door of Christ crucified, and this door is not found\nelsewhere than in Holy Church. She saw that this Bride brought life to\nmen, because she holds in herself such life that there is no one who can\nkill her; and that she gave fortitude and light, and that there is no one\nwho can weaken her, in her true self, or cast her into darkness. And she\nsaw that her fruit never fails, but increases for ever.\n\nThen said Eternal God: \"All this dignity, which your intellect could not\ncompass, is given you men by Me. Consider, therefore, in grief and\nbitterness, and thou shalt see that people are approaching this Bride only\nfor her outer raiment--that is, for temporal possessions. But thou seest\nher wholly deserted by those who seek her very essence--that is, the\nfruit of Blood. He who pays not the price of charity with true humility\nand the light of most holy faith, would share this, not unto life, but\nunto death; he would do like the thief, who takes what is not his. For the\nfruit of Blood is for those who pay the price of love, because she is\nfounded in love, and is Very Love itself. And I will,\" said Eternal God,\n\"that every one give to her through love, according as I give to My\nservants to minister in diverse ways, even as they have received. But I\ngrieve that I find none who ministers there. Nay, it seems that every one\nhas abandoned her. But I will be the Mediator once more.\"\n\nAnd the pain and fire of her desire increasing, she cried in the sight of\nGod, saying: \"What can I do, O unsearchable Fire?\" And His benignity\nreplied: \"Do thou offer thy life anew. Thou canst refrain from ever giving\nthyself repose. To this work I have appointed thee--thee and all who\nfollow thee or are to follow. Take ye then heed never to relax, but always\nto increase in desires; for I, impelled by love, am taking good heed to\naid you with My bodily and spiritual grace. And in order that your minds\nmay not be occupied by anything else, I have made provision, arousing her\nwhom I have appointed to govern you, and I have led her, and put her to\nthis work by mysteries and in new ways; so that she serves My Church with\ntemporal substance, and you with continual humble faithful prayer, and\nwith what activities shall be needed, which shall be appointed to thee and\nto them by My Goodness, to each according to his rank. Devote, then, thy\nlife and heart and mind wholly to that Bride, for Me, with no regard to\nthyself. Contemplate Me, and behold the Bridegroom of this Bride, that is\nthe highest Pontiff, and see his holy and good intention--an intention\nwithout reserves. And as the Bride is alone, so also is the bridegroom. I\npermit him to cleanse Holy Church by methods which he applies\nimmoderately, and by fear, with which he inspires his subjects. But\nanother shall come, who shall draw close to her in love, and shall fulfil\nher. It shall befall this Bride as it befalls the soul; for first fear\npossesses her, but when she is divested of sins, then love fills her and\nclothes her with virtue. All this it shall do, with sweet sustaining,\nsweet and suave, of those who shall nourish them at her breast in truth.\nBut do thou this: Say to My Vicar that he pacify himself to the extent of\nhis power, and grant peace to whosoever will receive it. And to the\ncolumns of Holy Church say that if they wish to remedy great disasters\nthey are to do thus: let them unite, and form a cloak to cover the methods\nof their father that may seem faulty. And let them adopt a well-ordered\nlife, close to those who fear and love Me, and cling together, casting\ntheir lower natures aside. If they do thus, I who am Light will give them\nthe light needful to Holy Church. And seeing that there is something which\nought to be done among them, let them refer it to My Vicar in true unity,\nquickly, boldly, and after much reflection. He then will be constrained\nnot to resist their goodwills; for he really has a holy and good\nintention.\"\n\nThe tongue does not suffice to narrate such mysteries, nor what intellect\nsaw and affection conceived. And the day passing by, full of marvel, the\nevening came. And I, feeling that the heart was so drawn by the force of\nlove that I could offer no resistance to going to the place of prayer, and\nfeeling that disposition come upon me which was at the time of my death,\nprostrated me with great compunction because I had served the Bride of\nChrist with much ignorance and negligence, and had been cause that others\nhad done the same. And rising, with the impression of what I have said\nbefore the eye of my mind, God placed me before Himself--not but that I am\nalways before Him, because He contains everything in Himself--but in a new\nway, as if memory, intellect, and will had nothing whatever to do with my\nbody. And this Truth was reflected in me with such light that in that\nabyss were then renewed the mysteries of Holy Church, and all the graces\nreceived in my life, past and present, and the day in which my soul was\nwedded to Him. All which then vanished from me through the increase of the\ninward fire: and I paid heed only to what should be done, that I should\nmake a sacrifice of myself to God for Holy Church and for the sake of\nremoving ignorance and negligence from those whom God had put into my\nhands. Then the devils called out havoc upon me, seeking to hinder and\nslacken with their terrors my free and burning desire. So these beat upon\nthe shell of the body; but desire became the more kindled, crying, \"O\nEternal God, receive the sacrifice of my life in this mystical body of\nHoly Church! I have naught to give save what Thou hast given to me. Take\nthen my heart, and may Thy Bride lean her face upon it!\" Then Eternal God,\nturning the eyes of His mercy, removed my heart, and offered it to Holy\nChurch. And He had drawn it to Himself with such force that had He not at\nonce bound it about with His strength--not wishing that the vessel of my\nbody should be broken--my life would have gone. Then the devils cried\nmuch more clamorously, as if they had felt an intolerable pain; forcing\nthemselves to leave terror with me, threatening me so to disport them that\nsuch an act as this could not be wrought. But because Hell cannot resist\nthe virtue of humility with the light of most holy faith, the spirit\nbecame more single, and worked with tools of fire, hearing in the sight of\nthe Divine Majesty words most charming, and promises to give gladness. And\nbecause in truth it was thus in so great a mystery, the tongue henceforth\ncan suffice to speak of it no more.\n\nNow I say: Thanks, thanks be to the Highest God Eternal, who has placed us\nin the battlefield as knights, to fight for His Bride with the shield of\nholiest faith. The field is left free to us by that virtue and power which\nrouted the devil who possessed the human race; who was routed, not in the\nstrength of humanity, but of Deity. Thus the devil neither is nor shall be\nrouted by the suffering of our bodies, but by strength of the fire of\ndivine, most ardent, and immeasurable love.\n\n\n\n\nTO MASTER RAIMONDO OF CAPUA OF THE ORDER OF THE PREACHERS\n\n\nIn the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:\n\nDearest and sweetest father in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant\nand slave of the servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious\nBlood; with the desire to see you a pillar newly established in the garden\nof Holy Church, like a faithful bridegroom of truth, as you ought to be;\nand then shall I account my soul as blessed. Therefore I do not wish you\nto look back for any adversity or persecution, but I wish you to glory in\nadversity. For by endurance and in no other wise we show our love and\nconstancy, and give glory to God's Name. Now is the time, dearest father,\nwholly to lose one's self, not to think of one's self an atom: as the\nglorious workmen did who were ready with such love and desire to give\ntheir life, and watered this garden with blood, with humble continual\nprayer, and with endurance unto death. Beware lest I see you timid; let\nnot your shadow make you afraid; but be a manly fighter, and never desert\nthat yoke of obedience which the highest pontiff has placed on you.\nMoreover, in the Order do what you see to be to the honour of God; for the\ngreat goodness of God demands this of us, and He has appointed us for\nnothing else.\n\nBehold what necessity we see in Holy Church; for we see her left utterly\nalone! Thus the Truth showed, as I write you in another letter. And as the\nBride has been left solitary, so is her bridegroom. Oh, sweetest father, I\nwill not be silent to you of the great mysteries of God, but I will tell\nthem the most briefly that I can, so far as the frail tongue can express\nthem by telling. And further, I say to you what I want you to do. But\nreceive what I say to you without pain, for I do not know what the Divine\nGoodness will do with me, whether It will have me remain here, or will\ncall me to Itself.\n\nFather, father and sweetest son, wonderful mysteries has God wrought, from\nthe Day of the Circumcision till now; such that no tongue could suffice to\ntell them. But let us pass over all that time, and come to Sexagesima\nSunday, when occurred, as I am writing you briefly, those mysteries which\nyou shall hear: never have I seemed to bear anything like them. For the\npain in my heart was so great, that the tunic which clothed me burst, as\nmuch as I could clasp of it; and I circled around in the chapel like a\nperson in spasms. He who had held me had surely taken away my life. Then,\nMonday coming, in the evening I was constrained to write to Christ on\nearth and to three cardinals. So I had myself helped, and went into the\nstudy. And when I had written to Christ on earth, I had no way of writing\nmore, the pains had so greatly increased in my body. And, waiting a\nlittle, the terror of demons began, in such wise that they stunned me\nentirely; raging against me as if I, worm that I am, had been the means of\ntaking from their hands what they had possessed a long time in Holy\nChurch. So great was the terror, with the bodily pain, that I wanted to\nfly from the study and go to the chapel--as if the study had been the\ncause of my pains. So I rose up, and not being able to walk, I leaned on\nmy son Barduccio. But suddenly I was thrown down; and lying there, it\nseemed to me as if my soul were parted from my body; not in such wise as\nwhen it really was parted, for then my soul tasted the good of the\nImmortals, receiving that Highest Good together with them; but this now\nseemed like a special case, for I did not seem to be in the body, but I\nsaw my body as if it had been someone else. And my soul, seeing the grief\nof him who was with me, wished to know if I had any power over the body,\nto say to him: \"Son, do not fear\"; and I saw that I could not move the\ntongue or any member of it, any more than a body quite dead. Then I let\nthe body stay just as it was; and the intellect was fixed on the abyss of\nthe Trinity. Memory was full of recollection of the need of Holy Church\nand of all the Christian people; and I cried before His Face, and demanded\ndivine help with assurance, offering to Him my desires, and constraining\nHim by the Blood of the Lamb and the pains that had been borne. And so\neager was the demand that it seemed to me sure that He would not deny that\npetition. Then I asked for all you others, praying Him that He would\nfulfil in you His will and my desires. Then I asked that He would save me\nfrom eternal condemnation. And while I stayed thus for a very long time,\nso that the Family was mourning me as dead, at this point all the terror\nof the demons was gone away. Then the Presence of the Humble Lamb came\nbefore my soul, saying: \"Fear not: for I will fulfil thy desires, and\nthose of My other servants. I will that thou see that I am a good master,\nwho plays the potter, unmaking and remaking vessels as His pleasure is.\nThese My vessels I know how to unmake and remake; and therefore I take the\nvessel of thy body, and remake it in the garden of Holy Church, in\ndifferent wise than in past time.\" And as this Truth held me close, with\nways and words most charming, which I pass over, the body began to breathe\na little, and to show that the soul was returned to its vessel. Then I was\nfull of wonder. And such pain remained in my heart that I have it there\nstill. All pleasure and all refreshment and all food was then taken away\nfrom me. Being carried afterward into a place above, the room appeared\nfull of devils: and they began to wage another battle, the most terrible\nthat I ever had, trying to make me believe and see that I was not she who\nwas in the body, but an impure spirit. I, having invoked the divine help\nwith a sweet tenderness, refusing no labour, yet said: \"God, listen for my\nhelp! Lord, haste Thee to help me! Thou hast permitted that I be alone in\nthis battle, without the refreshment of the father of my soul, of whom I\nam deprived for my ingratitude.\"\n\nTwo nights and two days passed in these tempests. It is true that mind and\ndesire received no break, but remained ever fixed on their object; but the\nbody seemed almost to have failed. Afterward, on the Day of the\nPurification of Mary, I wished to hear Mass. Then all the mysteries were\nrenewed; and God showed the great need that existed, as later appeared;\nfor Rome has all been on the point of revolution, backbiting\ndisgracefully, and with much irreverence. Only that God has poured oil on\ntheir hearts, and I think the thing will have a good end. Then God imposed\nthis obedience on me, that during the whole of this holy season of Lent I\nshould offer in sacrifice the desires of all the Family, and have Mass\ncelebrated before Him with this one intention alone--that is, for Holy\nChurch--and that I should myself hear a Mass every morning at dawn--a\nthing which you know is impossible to me; but in obedience to Him all\nthings have been possible. And this desire has become so much a part of my\nflesh, that memory retains nothing else, intellect can see nothing else,\nand will can desire nothing else. Not so much that the soul turns aside\nfrom things here below for this reason--but, conversing with the True\nCitizens, it neither can nor will rejoice in their joy, but in their\nhunger, which they still feel, and which they felt while pilgrims and\nwayfarers in this life.\n\nIn this way, and many others which I cannot tell, my life is consumed and\nshed for this sweet Bride: I by this road, and the glorious martyrs with\nblood. I pray the Divine Goodness soon to let me see the redemption of His\npeople. When it is the hour of terce, I rise from Mass, and you would see\na dead woman go to St. Peter's; and I enter anew to labour in the ship of\nHoly Church. There I stay thus till near the hour of vespers: and from\nthis place I would depart neither day nor night until I see this people at\nleast a little steadily established in peace with their father. This body\nof mine remains without any food, without even a drop of water: in such\nsweet physical tortures as I never at any time endured; insomuch that my\nlife hangs by a thread. Now I do not know what the Divine Goodness will do\nwith me: as far as my feelings go, I do not say that I perceive His will\nin this matter; but as to my physical sensations, it seems to me that this\ntime I am to confirm them with a new martyrdom in the sweetness of my\nsoul--that is, for Holy Church; then, perhaps, He will make me rise again\nwith Him. He will put so an end to my miseries and to my crucified\ndesires. Or He may employ His usual ways to strengthen my body. I have\nprayed and pray His mercy that His will be fulfilled in me, and that He\nleave not you or the others orphans. But may He ever guide you in the way\nof the doctrine of Truth, with true and very perfect light. I am sure that\nHe will do it.\n\nNow I pray and constrain you, father, and son given by that sweet Mother,\nMary, that you feel that if God is turning the eye of His mercy upon me,\nHe wills to renew your life; and as dead to all fleshly impulse do you\ncast yourself into that ship of Holy Church. And be always discreet in\nyour conversations. You will be able to have the actual cell little; but I\nwish you to have the cell of the heart always, and always carry it with\nyou. For as you know, while we are locked therein enemies can do us no\nwrong. Then every act you shall do will be guided and ordered of God.\nAlso, I beg you that you ripen your heart with holy and true prudence; and\nthat your life be an example to worldly men by your never conforming to\nthe world's customs. May that generosity toward the poor and that\nvoluntary poverty which you have always practised, be renewed and\nrefreshed in you with true and perfect humility. Do not slacken in these,\nfor any dignity or exaltation that God may give you, but descend more deep\ninto that Valley of Humility, rejoicing in the table of the Cross. There\nreceive the food of souls: embracing the Mother, humble, faithful, and\ncontinual prayer, and holy vigil: celebrating every day, unless for some\nspecial reason. Flee idle and light talking, and be and show yourself\nmature in your speech and in every way. Cast from you all tenderness for\nyourself and all servile fear; for the sweet Church has no need of such\nfolk, but of persons cruel to themselves and compassionate to her. These\nare the things which I beg you to study to observe. Also I beg you that\nyou and Brother Bartolomeo and Brother Tommaso and the Master should\ngather together in your hands the book, and any writing of mine that you\nmight find, and do with them what you see will be most to the honour of\nGod: you and Misser Tommaso too--things in which I found some recreation.\nI beg you also, that so far as shall be possible to you, you be a shepherd\nand ruler to this Family, as a father, keeping them in the joy of charity\nand in perfect union; that they be not scattered as sheep without a\nshepherd. And I think to do more for them and for you after my death than\nin my life. I shall pray the Eternal Truth that He pour forth upon you\nothers all plenitude of grace and gifts which He may have given to my\nsoul, so that you may be lights placed in a candlestick. I beg you to pray\nthe Eternal Bridegroom that He make me manfully fulfil His obedience, and\npardon me the multitude of my iniquities. And I beg you that you pardon me\nevery disobedience, irreverence, and ingratitude which I showed to you or\ncommitted against you, and all pain and bitterness which I may have caused\nyou: and the slight zeal which I have had for our salvation. And I ask you\nfor your blessing.\n\nPray earnestly for me, and have others pray, for the love of Christ\ncrucified. Pardon me, that I have written you words of bitterness. I do\nnot write them, however, to cause you bitterness, but because I am in\ndoubt, and do not know what the Goodness of God will do with me. I wish to\nhave done my duty. And do not feel regret because we are separated one\nfrom the other in the body; although you would have been the very greatest\nconsolation to me, greater are my consolation and gladness to see the\nfruit that you are bearing in Holy Church. And now I beg you to labour yet\nmore zealously, for she never had so great a need: and do you never depart\nfor any persecution without permission from our lord the Pope. Comfort you\nin Christ sweet Jesus, without any bitterness. I say no more to you.\nRemain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.","title":"Letters of Catherine Benincasa","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":111518}