Chapter 21
Jesus led back from the Court of Herod to that of Pilate
The enemies of Jesus were perfectly infuriated at being obliged to take Jesus back, still uncondemned, to Pilate, who had so many times declared his innocence. They led him round by a much longer road, in order in the first place to let the persons of that part of the town see him in the state of ignominy to which he was reduced, and in the second place to give their emissaries more time to stir up the populace.
This road was extremely rough and uneven; and the soldiers, encouraged by the Pharisees, scarcely refrained a moment from tormenting Jesus. The long garment with which he was clothed impeded his steps, and caused him to fall heavily more than once; and his cruel guards, as also many among the brutal populace, instead of assisting him in his state of exhaustion, endeavoured by blows and kicks to force him to rise.
To all these outrages Jesus offered not the smallest resistance; he prayed constantly to his Father for grace
and strength that he might not sink under them, but accomplish the work of his Passion for
our redemption.
The Pharisees led Jesus, still clothed in the fool's garment, through the midst of the insolent
mob, and had done all in their power to gather together the most vile and wicked of
miscreants from among the dregs of the people. A servant sent by Herod had already reached
Pilate, with a message to the effect that his master had fully appreciated his polite
deference to his opinion, but that he looked upon the far-famed Galilean as no better than
a fool, that he had treated him as such, and now sent him back. Pilate was quite satisfied
at finding that Herod had come to the same conclusion as himself, and therefore returned a
polite message. From that hour they became friends, having been enemies many years; in
fact, ever since the falling-in of the aqueduct.* Jesus was again
* The cause of the
quarrel between Pilate and Herod was, according to the account of Sister Emmerich, simply
this: Pilate had undertaken to build an aqueduct on the south-east side of the mountain on
which the Temple stood, at the edge of the torrent into
which the waters of the pool of Bethsaida emptied themselves, and this aqueduct was to
carry off the refuse of the Temple. Herod, through the medium of one of his confidants,
who was a member of the Sanhedrim, agreed to furnish him with the necessary materials, as
also with twenty-eight architects, who were also Herodians. His aim was to set the Jews
still more against the Roman governor, by causing the undertaking to fail. He accordingly
came to a private understanding with the architects, who agreed to construct the aqueduct
in such a manner that it would be certain to fall. When the work was almost finished, and
a number of bricklayers from Ophel were busily employed in removing the scaffolding, the
twenty-eight builders went on to the top of the Tower of Siloe to contemplate the crash
which they knew must take place. Not only did the whole of the building crumble to pieces,
fall, and kill ninety-three workmen, but even the tower containing the twenty-eight
architects came down, and not one escaped death. This accident occurred a short time
previous to the 8th of January, two years after Jesus had commenced preaching; it took
place on Herod's birthday, the same day that John the Baptist was beheaded in the
Castle of Marcherunt. No Roman officer attended these festivities on account of the affair
of the aqueduct, although Pilate had, with hypocritical politeness been requested to take
a part in them. Sister Emmerich saw some of the disciples of Jesus carry the news of this
event into Samaria, where he was teaching. on the 8th of January. Jesus went from thence
to Hebron, to comfort the family of John; and she saw him, on the 13th of January cure
many among the workmen of Ophel who had been injured by the fall of the aqueduct. We have
seen by the relation previously given how little gratitude they showed him. The enmity of
Herod towards Pilate was still farther increased by the manner in which the latter
revenged himself on the followers of Herod. We will insert here a few details which were
communicated at different times to Sister Emmerich. On the 25th of March, of the second
year of our Lord's preaching, when Jesus and his disciples were in the neighbourhood
of Bethania, they were warned by Lazarus that Judas of Gaulon intended to excite an
insurrection against Pilate. On the 28th of March, Pilate issued a proclamation to the
effect that he intended to impose a tax, the proceeds of which were partly to cover the
expenses he had incurred in raising the building which had just fallen to the ground. This
announcement was followed by a sedition headed by Judas of Gaulon, who always stood up for
liberty, and who was (unknown to himself) a tool in the hands of the Herodians. The
Herodians were rather like our Freemasons. On the 30th of March, at ten o'clock p.m.,
Jesus, dressed in a dark garment, was teaching in the Temple, with his Apostles and thirty
disciples. The revolt of the Galileans against Pilate burst forth on this very day, and
the rebels set free fifty of their number who had been imprisoned the day before; and many
among the Romans were killed. On the 6th of April, Pilate caused the Galileans to be
massacred at the moment of offering sacrifice, by disguised soldiers whom he had concealed
in the Temple. Judas was killed with his companions. This massacre exasperated Herod still
more against Pilate, and we have just seen by what means their reconciliation was
effected.
Led to the house of Pilate. The archers dragged him up the stairs with their usual brutality; his feet became entangled in
his long robe, and he fell upon the white marble steps, which were stained with blood from
his sacred head. His enemies had again taken their seats at the entrance of the forum; the
mob laughed at his fall, and the archers struck their innocent victim, instead of
assisting him to rise. Pilate was reclining on a species of easy-chair, with a little
table before him, and surrounded with officers and persons who held strips of parchment
covered with writing in their hands. He came forward and said to the accusers of Jesus: " You
have presented unto me this man, as one that perverteth the people, and behold I having
examined him before you, find no cause in this man in those things wherein you accuse him.
No, nor Herod neither. For I sent you to him, and behold, nothing worthy of death is done
to him. I will chastise him, therefore, and release him."
Mary, with Magdalen, John, and the holy women, stood in a corner of the forum, trembling and weeping; for
although the Mother of Jesus was fully aware that the redemption of man could not be
brought about by any other means than the death of her Son, yet she was filled with the
anguish of a mother, and with a longing desire to save him from those tortures and from
that death which he was about to suffer. She prayed God not to allow such a fearful crime
to be perpetrated; she repeated the words of Jesus in the Garden of Olives: " If it
is possible, let this chalice pass away." She still felt a glimmering of hope,
because there was a report current that Pilate wished to acquit Jesus. Groups of persons,
mostly inhabitants of Capharnaum, where Jesus had taught, and among whom he had wrought so
many miraculous cures, were congregated in her vicinity; they pretended not to remember
either her or her weeping companions; they simply cast a glance now and then, as if by
chance, at their closely-veiled figures. Many thought, as did her companions likewise,
that these persons at least would reject Barabbas, and beg for the life of their Saviour
and Benefactor; but these hopes were, alas, fallacious.
Pilate sent back the pledge to his wife, as an assurance of his intention to keep his promise. He again came
forward on the platform, and seated himself at the little table. The Chief Priests took
their seats likewise, and Pilate once more demanded: " Which of the two am I to
deliver up to you ?" A general cry resounded through the hall: " Not this
man, but Barabbas ! " " But what am I to do with Jesus, who is called Christ ?"
replied Pilate. All exclaimed in a tumultuous manner: " Let him be crucified !
let him be crucified ! " " But what evil has he done ?"asked Pilate for
the third time. " I find no cause in him. I will scourge and then acquit him."
But the cry, "Crucify him ! Crucify him ! " burst from the crowd, and
the sounds echoed like an infernal tempest; the High Priests and the Pharisees vociferated
and hurried backwards and forwards as if insane. Pilate at last yielded; his weak
pusillanimous character could not withstand such violent demonstrations; he delivered up
Barabbas to the people, and condemned Jesus to be scourged.
Chapter 22
That most weak and undecided of all judges, Pilate, had several times repeated these dastardly words: " I
find no crime in him: I will chastise him, therefore, and let him go;" to which
the Jews had continued to respond, " Crucify him ! Crucify him ! " but he
determined to adhere to his resolution of not condemning our Lord to death, and ordered
him to be scourged according to the manner of the Romans. The guards were therefore
ordered to conduct him through the midst of the furious multitude to the forum, which they
did with the utmost brutality, at the same time loading him with abuse, and striking him
with their staffs. The pillar where criminals were scourged stood to the north of
Pilate's palace, near the guard-house, and the executioners soon arrived, carrying
whips, rods, and ropes, which they tossed down at its base. They were six in number, dark,
swarthy men, somewhat shorter than Jesus; their chests were covered with a piece of
leather, or with some dirty stuff; their loins were girded, and their hairy, sinewy arms
bare. They were malefactors from the frontiers of Egypt, who had been condemned for their
crimes to hard labour, and were employed principally in making canals, and in erecting
public buildings, the most criminal being selected to act as executioners in the
Praetorium.
These cruel men had many times scourged poor criminals to death at this pillar. They resembled wild beasts or
demons, and appeared to be half drunk. They struck our Lord with their fists, and dragged
him by the cords with which he was pinioned, although he followed them without offering
the least resistance, and, finally, they barbarously knocked him down against the pillar.
This pillar, placed in the centre of the court, stood alone, and did not serve to sustain
any part of the building; it was not very high, for a tall man could touch the summit by
stretching out his arm; there was a large iron ring at the top, and both rings and hooks a
little lower down. It is quite impossible to describe the cruelty shown by these ruffians
towards Jesus: they tore off the mantle with which he had been clothed in derision at the
court of Herod, and almost threw him prostrate again.
Jesus trembled and shuddered as he stood before the pillar, and took off his garments as quickly as he could,
but his hands were bloody and swollen. The only return he made when his brutal
executioners struck and abused him was to pray for them in the most touching manner: he
turned his face once towards his Mother, who was standing overcome with grief; this look
quite unnerved her: she fainted, and would have fallen, had not the holy women who were
there supported her. Jesus put his arms round the pillar, and when his hands were thus
raised, the archers fastened them to the iron ring which was at the top of the pillar;
they then dragged his arms to such a height that his feet, which were tightly bound to the
base of the pillar, scarcely touched the ground. Thus was the Holy of holies violently
stretched, without a particle of clothing, on a pillar used for the punishment of the
greatest criminals; and then did two furious ruffians who were thirsting for his blood
begin in the most barbarous manner to scourge his sacred body from head to foot. The whips
or scourges which they first made use of appeared to me to be made of a species of
flexible white wood, but perhaps they were composed of the sinews of the ox, or of strips
of leather.
Our loving Lord, the Son of God, true God and true Man, writhed as a worm under the blows of these barbarians;
his mild but deep groans might be heard from afar; they resounded through the air, fording
a kind of touching accompaniment to the hissing of the instruments of torture. These
groans resembled rather a touching cry of prayer and supplication, than moans of anguish.
The clamour of the Pharisees and the people formed another species of accompaniment, which
at times as a deafening thunder-storm deadened and smothered these sacred and mournful
cries, and in their place might be heard the words, " Put him to death !
Crucify him ! " Pilate continued parleying with the people, and when he
demanded silence in order to be able to speak, he was obliged to proclaim his wishes to
the clamorous assembly by the sound of a trumpet, and at such moments you might again hear
the noise of the scourges, the moans of Jesus, the imprecations of the soldiers, and the
bleating of the Paschal lambs which were being washed in the Probatica pool, at no great
distance from the forum. There was something peculiarly touching in the plaintive bleating
of these lambs: they alone appeared to unite their lamentations with the suffering moans
of our Lord.
The Jewish mob was gathered together at some distance from the pillar at which the dreadful punishment was
taking place, and Roman soldiers were stationed in different parts round about. Many
persons were walking to and fro, some in silence, others speaking of Jesus in the most
insulting terms possible, and a few appearing touched, and I thought I beheld rays of
light issuing from our Lord and entering the hearts of the latter. I saw groups of
infamous, bold-looking young men, who were for the most part busying themselves near the
watch-house in preparing fresh scourges, while others went to seek branches of thorns.
Several of the servants of the High Priests went up to the brutal executioners and gave
them money; as also a large jug filled with a strong bright red liquid, which quite
inebriated them, and increased their cruelty tenfold towards their innocent Victim. The
two ruffians continued to strike our Lord with unremitting violence for a quarter of an
hour, and were then succeeded by two others. His body was entirely covered with black,
blue, and red marks; the blood was trickling down on the ground, and yet the furious cries
which issued from among the assembled Jews showed that their cruelty was far from being
satiated.
The night had been extremely cold, and the morning was dark and cloudy; a little hail had fallen, which
surprised every one, but towards twelve o'clock the day became brighter, and the sun shone forth.
The two fresh executioners commenced scourging Jesus with the greatest possible fury; they made use of a
different kind of rod, - a species of thorny stick, covered with knots and splinters.
The blows from these sticks tore his flesh to pieces; his blood spouted out so as to stain
their arms, and he groaned, prayed, and shuddered. At this moment, some strangers mounted
on camels passed through the forum; they stopped for a moment, and were quite overcome
with pity and horror at the scene before them, upon which some of the bystanders explained
the cause of what they witnessed. Some of these travellers had been baptised by John, and
others had heard the sermon of Jesus on the mountain. The noise and the tumult of the mob
was even more deafening near the house of Pilate.
Two fresh executioners took the places of the last mentioned, who were beginning to flag; their scourges were
composed of small chains, or straps covered with iron hooks, which penetrated to the bone,
and tore off large pieces of flesh at every blow. What word, alas! could describe this
terrible - this heartrending scene !
The cruelty of these barbarians was nevertheless not yet satiated; they untied Jesus, and again fastened him up
with his back turned towards the pillar. As he was totally unable to support himself in an
upright position, they passed cords round his waist, under his arms, and above his knees,
and having bound his hands tightly into the rings which were placed at the upper part of
the pillar, they recommenced scourging him with even greater fury than before; and one
among them struck him constantly on the face with a new rod. The body of our Lord was
perfectly torn to shreds, - it was but one wound. He looked at his torturers with his
eyes filled with blood, as if entreating mercy ; but their brutality appeared to increase,
and his moans each moment became more feeble.
The dreadful scourging had been continued without intermission for three quarters of an hour, when a stranger of
lowly birth, a relation to Ctesiphon, the blind man whom Jesus had cured, rushed from
amidst the crowd, and approached the pillar with a knife shaped like a cutlass in his
hand. " Cease ! " he exclaimed, in an indignant tone; " Cease ! scourge not this
innocent man unto death ! " The drunken miscreants, taken by
surprise, stopped short, while he quickly severed the cords which bound Jesus to the
pillar, and disappeared among the crowd. Jesus fell almost without consciousness on the
ground, which was bathed with his blood. The executioners left him there, and rejoined
their cruel companions, who were amusing themselves in the guard-house with drinking, and
plaiting the crown of thorns.
The great excitement among the populace alarmed Pilate so much, that he sent to the fortress of Antonia for a
reinforcement of Roman soldiers, and posted these well-disciplined troops round the
guard-house; they were permitted to talk and to deride Jesus in every possible way, but
were forbidden to quit their ranks. These soldiers, whom Pilate had sent for to intimidate
the mob, numbered about a thousand.
Chapter 23
I saw the Blessed Virgin in a continual ecstasy during the time of the scourging of her Divine Son; she saw
and suffered with inexpressible love and grief all the torments he was enduring. She
groaned feebly, and her eyes were red with weeping. A large veil covered her person, and
she leant upon Mary of Heli, her eldest sister,* who was old and extremely like their
mother, Anne. Mary of Cleophas, the daughter of Mary of Heli, was there also. The friends
of Jesus and Mary stood around the latter; they wore large veils, appeared overcome with
grief and anxiety, and were weeping as if in the momentary expectation of death. The dress
of Mary was blue; it was long, and partly covered by a cloak made of white wool, and her
veil was of rather a yellow white. Magdalen was totally beside herself from grief and her
hair was floating loosely under her veil.
When Jesus fell down at the foot of the pillar, after the flagellation, I saw Claudia Procles, the wife of
Pilate, send some large pieces of linen to the Mother of God. I know not whether she
thought that Jesus would be set free, and that his Mother would then require linen to dress
his wounds, or whether this compassionate lady was aware of the use which would be made of
her present. At the termination of the scourging, Mary came to herself for a time, and saw
her Divine Son all torn and mangled, being led away by the archers after the scourging: he
wiped his eyes, which were filled with blood, that he might look at his Mother, and she
stretched out her hands towards him, and continued to look at the bloody traces of his
footsteps. I soon after saw Mary and Magdalen approach the pillar where Jesus had been
scourged; the mob were at a distance, and they were partly concealed by the other holy
women, and by a few kind-hearted persons who had joined them; they knelt down on the
ground near the pillar, and wiped up the sacred blood with the linen which Claudia Procles
had sent. John was not at that time with the holy women, who were about twenty in number.
The sons of Simeon and of Obed, and Veronica, as also the two nephews of Joseph of
Arimathea - Aram and Themni - were in the Temple, and appeared to be overwhelmed
with grief. It was not more than nine o'clock A.M. when the scourging terminated.
* Mary of Heli is often spoken of in this relation. According to Sister Eminerich, she was the
daughter of St. Joachim and St. Anne, and was born nearly twenty years before the Blessed
Virgin. She was not the child of promise, and is called Mary of Heli, by which she is
distinguished from the other of the same name, because
she was the daughter of Joachim, or Heliachim. Her husband bore
the name of Cleophas. and her daughter that of Mary of Cleophas. This daughter was,
however, older than her aunt, the Blessed Virgin, and had been married first to Alpheus.
by whom she had three sons, afterwards the Apostles Simon, James the Less and Thaddeus.
She had one son by her second husband, Sabat, and another called Simon, by her
third husband, Jonas. Simon was afterwards Bishop of Jerusalem.
Chapter 24
During the whole time of the visions which we have just narrated (that is to say, from the 18th of February
until the 8th of March), Sister Emmerich continued to suffer all the mental and bodily
tortures which were once endured by our Lord. Being totally immersed in these meditations,
and, as it were, dead to exterior objects, she wept and groaned like a person in the hands
of an executioner, trembled, shuddered, and writhed on her couch, while her face resembled
that of a man about to expire under torture, and a bloody sweat often trickled over her
chest and shoulders. She generally perspired so profusely that her bed and clothes were
saturated. Her sufferings from thirst were likewise fearful, and she might truly be
compared to a person perishing in a desert from the want of water. Generally speaking, her
mouth was so parched in the morning, and her tongue so contracted and dried up, that she
could not speak, but was obliged by signs and inarticulate sounds to beg for relief. Her
constant state of fever was probably brought on by the great pains she endured, added to
which she likewise often took upon herself the illnesses and temporal calamities merited
by others. It was always necessary for her to rest for a time before relating the
different scenes of the Passion, nor was it always that she could speak of what she had
seen, and she was even often obliged to discontinue her narrations for the day. She was in
this state of suffering on Saturday the 8th of March, and with the greatest difficulty and
suffering described the scourging of our Lord which she had seen in the vision of the
previous night, and which appeared to be present to her mind during the greatest part of
the following day. Towards evening, however, a change took place, and there was an
interruption in the course of meditations on the Passion which had latterly followed one
another so regularly. We will describe this interruption, in order, in the first place, to
give our readers a more full comprehension of the interior life of this most extraordinary
person; and, in the second, to enable them to pause for a time to rest their minds, as I
well know that meditations on the Passion of our Lord exhaust the weak, even when they
remember that it was for their salvation that he suffered and died.
The life of Sister Emmerich, both as regarded her spiritual and intellectual existence, invariably harmonised
with the spirit of the Church at different seasons of the year. It harmonised even more
strongly than man's natural life does with the seasons, or with the hours of the day,
and this caused her to be (if we may thus express ourselves) a realisation of the
existence and of the various intentions of the Church. Her union with its spirit was so
complete, that no sooner did a festival day begin (that is to say, on the eve), than a
perfect change took place within her, both intellectually and spiritually. As soon as the
spiritual sun of these festival days of the Church was set, she directed all her thoughts
towards that which would rise on the following day, and disposed all her prayers, good
works, and sufferings for the attainment of the special graces attached to the feast about
to commence, like a plant which absorbs the dew, and revels in the warmth and light of the
first rays of the sun. These changes did not, as will readily be believed, always take
place at the exact moment when the sound of the Angelus announced the commencement of a
festival, and summoned the faithful to prayer; for this bell is often, either through
ignorance or negligence, run at the wrong time; but they commenced at the time when the
feast really began.
If the Church commemorated a sorrowful mystery, she appeared depressed, faint, and almost powerless; but
the instant the celebration of a joyful feast commenced, both body and soul revived to a
new life, as if refreshed by the dew of new graces, and she continued in this calm, quiet,
and happy state, quite released from every kind of suffering, until the evening. These
things took place in her soul quite independently of her will; but as she had had from
infancy the most ardent desire of being obedient to Jesus and to his Church, God had
bestowed upon her those special graces which give a natural facility for practising
obedience. Every faculty of her soul was directed towards the Church, in the same manner
as a plant which, even if put into a dark cellar, naturally turns its leaves upwards, and
appears to seek the light.
On Saturday, 8th of March, 1823, after sunset, Sister Emmerich had, with the greatest difficulty, portrayed
the different events of the scourging of our Lord, and the writer of these pages thought
that her mind was occupied in the contemplation of the - crowning with thorns, -
when suddenly her countenance, which was previously pale and haggard, like that of a
person on the point of death, became bright and serene, and she exclaimed in a coaxing
tone, as if speaking to a child, " 0, that dear little boy ! Who is he ? - Stay, I
will ask him. His name is Joseph. He has pushed his way through the crowd to come to me.
Poor child, he is laughing; he knows nothing at all of what is going on. How light his
clothing is! I fear he must be cold, the air is so sharp this morning. Wait, my child; let
me put something more over you." After saying these words in such a natural tone of
voice that it was almost impossible for those present not to turn round and expect to see
the child, she held up a dress which was near her, as would be done by a kind-hearted
person wishing to clothe a poor frozen child. The friend who was standing by her bedside
had not sufficient time to ask her to explain the words she had spoken, for a sudden
change took place, both in her whole appearance and manner, when her attendant pronounced
the word - obedience,- one of the vows by which she had consecrated
herself to our Lord. She instantly came to herself, and, like an obedient child awakening
from a sound sleep and starting up at the voice of its mother, she stretched forth her
hand, took the rosary and crucifix which were always at her side, arranged her dress,
rubbed her eyes, and sat up. She was then carried from her bed to a chair, as she could
neither stand nor walk; and it being the time for making her bed, her friend left the room
in order to write out what he had heard during the day.
On Sunday, the 9th of March, the friend asked her attendant what Sister Emmerich meant the evening before when
she spoke of a child called Joseph. The attendant answered, " She spoke of him again
many times yesterday evening; he is the son of a cousin of mine, and a great favourite of
hers. I fear that her talking so much about him is a sign that he is going to have an
illness, for she said so many times that the poor child was almost without clothing, and
that he must be cold."
The friend remembered having often seen this little Joseph playing on the bed of Sister Emmerich, and he
supposed that she was dreaming about him on the previous day. When the friend went to see
her later in the day to endeavour to obtain a continuation of the narrations of the
Passion, he found her, contrary to his expectation, more calm, and apparently better in
health than on the previous day. She told him that she had seen nothing more after the
scourging of our Lord; and when he questioned her concerning what she had said about
little Joseph, she could not remember having spoken of the child at all. He then asked the
reason of her being so calm, serene, and apparently well in health; and she answered,
" I always feel thus when Mid-Lent comes, for then the Church sings with Isaias in the
introit at Mass; ' Rejoice, 0, Jerusalem, and come together all you that love her;
rejoice with joy, you that have been in sorrow, that you may exult and be filled from the
breasts of your consolation.' Mid-Lent Sunday is consequently a day of rejoicing; and
you may likewise remember that, in the gospel of this day, the Church relates how our Lord
fed five thousand men with five loaves and two fishes, of which twelve baskets of
fragments remained, consequently we ought to rejoice."
She likewise added, that our Lord had deigned to visit her on that day in the Holy Communion, and that she
always felt especial spiritual consolation when she received him on that particular day of
the year. The friend cast his eyes on the calendar of the diocese of Munster, and saw that
on that day they not only kept Mid-Lent Sunday, but likewise the Feast of St. Joseph, the
foster-father of our Lord; he was not aware of this before, because in other places the
feast of St. Joseph is kept on the 19th, and he remarked this circumstance to Sister
Emmerich, and asked her whether she did not think that was the cause of her speaking about
Joseph. She answered that she was perfectly aware of its being the feast of the
foster-father of Jesus, but that she had not been thinking of the child of that name.
However, a moment after, she suddenly remembered what her thoughts had been the day
before, and explained to her friend that the moment the feast of St. Joseph began, her
visions of the sorrowful mysteries of the Passion ceased, and were superseded by totally
different scenes, in which St. Joseph appeared under the form of a child, and that it was
to him that the words we have mentioned above were addressed.
We found that when she received these communications the vision was often in the form of a child, especially in
those cases when an artist would have made use of that simile to express his ideas. If,
for instance, the accomplishment of some Scripture prophecy was being shown to her, she
often saw by the side of the illustration a child, who clearly designated the
characteristics of such or such a prophet, by his position, his dress, and the manner in
which he held in his hand and waved to and fro and the prophetic roll appended to a
staff.
Sometimes, when she was in extreme suffering, a beautiful child, dressed in green, with a calm and serene
countenance, would approach, and seat himself in a posture of resignation at the side of
her bed, allowing himself to be moved from one side to the other, or even put down on to
the ground, without the smallest opposition and constantly looking at her affectionately
and consoling her. If, when quite prostrate from illness and the sufferings of others
which she had taken upon herself, she entered into communication with a saint, either by
participation in the celebration of his feast, or from his relics being brought to her,
she sometimes saw passages of the childhood of this saint, and at others the most terrible
scenes of his martyrdom. In her greatest sufferings she was usually consoled, instructed,
or reproved (whichever the occasion called for) by apparitions under the form of children.
Sometimes, when totally overcome by trouble and distress, she would fall asleep, and be
carried back in imagination to the scenes and perils of her childhood. She sometimes
dreamed, as her exclamations and gestures demonstrated, that she was once more a little
country girl of five years old, climbing over a hedge, caught in the briars, and weeping
with fear.
These scenes of her childhood were always events which had really occurred, and the words which escaped her
showed what was passing in her mind. She would exclaim (as if repeating the words of
others): " Why do you call out so ?" " I will not hold the hedge back until
you are quiet and ask me gently to do so." She had obeyed this injunction when she
was a child and caught in the hedge, and she followed the same rule when grown up and
suffering from the most terrible trials. She often spoke and joked about the thorn hedge,
and the patience and prayer which had then been recommended to her, which admonition she,
in after-life, had frequently neglected, but which had never failed her when she had
recourse to it. This symbolical coincidence of the events of her childhood with those of
her riper years shows that, in the individual no less than in humanity at large, prophetic
types may be found. But, to the individual as well as to mankind in general, a Divine Type
had been given in the person of our Redeemer, in order that both the one and the other, by
walking in his footsteps and with his assistance, may surpass human nature and attain to
perfect wisdom and grace with God and man. Thus it is that the will of God is done on
earth as in heaven, and that his kingdom is attained by " men of good will."
She then gave a short account of the visions which had, on the previous night, interrupted her visions of the
Passion at the commencement of the feast of St. Joseph.
The Scourging of Jesus
Mary during the Flagellation of our Lord
Interruption of the Visions of the Passion
by the Appearance of
St. Joseph under the form of a Child