THE PRIVATE AND SOCIAL VIRTUES OF SISTER BOURGEOIS.
After what has been already related, it might appear that the labors of
Sister Bourgeois were happily ended by the establishment of her
Congregation. She had a flourishing institute at Montreal, and a fervent
and numerous community, that was well prepared to meet the future
exigencies of the diocese, and to supply new missions (when such were
needed) with holy and capable subjects. It is true there was still no
properly authorized or approved rule, but she had the necessary
formulas, which were strictly observed, while expecting the time
appointed by Divine Providence for ecclesiastical approbation, and she
felt _interiorly_ assured that this would come. She had given her
daughters an example of the most heroic virtues, most of her actions
being really of the heroic order, and such as might have been expected
from a daughter of predestination. In every sense of the word, she had a
truly great soul. In the routine of daily life, she was to her Sisters a
perfect model. She gave them frequently instructions suitable to their
strength, and proper to excite their zeal and fervor in the duty of a
_community life_ to which they aspired. We will now see, or rather
admire, her extraordinary love of suffering, which very few could
imitate.
The Lord gives a cross to every one of us. He spares none of His
servants, and she had crosses of all sorts to endure, interiorly and
exteriorly suffering the most intense pain of body and mind. The former
she often inflicted on herself, the latter was appointed by Divine
Providence, and of each she had a larger share than falls to the common
lot. Without referring again to the long and painful voyages she
undertook for the glory of God, or to the penitential and mortified life
of which she made profession, it is well known that, like the Apostle,
she constantly endured in soul and body the sufferings of Jesus Christ.
Her food was always of the coarsest kind, and she selected invariably
for herself whatever was disagreeable to the taste. In the matter of
_eating_ she absolutely destroyed sensuality, either by using her food
too hot or too cold, or spoiling its flavor by pouring water on it, or
mixing it with ashes, or a certain bitter powder, with which she always
kept herself supplied. She ate little, and drank less, using water but
once a day, and never in sufficient quantity to allay her thirst, even
in the hottest weather. She even managed to sit at her meals in a
painful and mortified position, being careful to pass every moment of
her life in the practice of mortification. She usually prayed prostrate
on the ground. Her ordinary bed was the floor, with a block of wood for
her pillow. She regarded it as a criminal indulgence, if sickness
obliged her to use a mattrass or _straw_ pillow. Her sleep was short and
broken, as she rose usually about midnight to pray for at least two
hours, and during the intense cold of the most severe Canadian winters
she never omitted this practice. She seemed to be _insensible_ to the
biting frost, as she never approached the fire in the cold season, and
endured the inconveniences of the other seasons with the same
indifference to bodily comfort. She scourged her body with rude
disciplines, and one cannot describe without a sensation of horror, the
cap, bristling with sharp points, that she wore secretly on, her head
night and day. The Sisters once accidentally saw this instrument of
torture, and begged her to discontinue its use, but she smilingly told
them, it caused her no more pain than a feather pillow should.
On another occasion, having been implored by the Sisters to moderate the
rigor of her austerities, in order to prolong her life for the sake of
the community, she answered them by an instruction on the Christian's
obligation of leading an austere and penitential life, and so pathetic
were her words that the Sisters burned with a desire to imitate her
example.
At last her confessor was obliged to forbid such excessive austerities,
and she submitted, so far as _exterior_ mortification went, but she
practised _interior_ mortification more ardently than before. That is,
she kept a stricter guard over her senses, thwarted more frequently her
natural inclinations, and endeavored by every means in her power to keep
herself always in the presence of God. But as if her divine Master made
light of these penitential exercises, He sent her a more terrible trial
than any she had yet endured.
In the year 1689, the devil, jealous of the tranquillity with which she
submitted to the decrees of Divine Providence, in the midst of crosses
that seemed to multiply daily around her, gave her to understand by the
pretended visions of another, that she was in a state of damnation, and
at emnity with God. These awful words, or rather this frightful idea,
made such an impression on her, that during four years she was not able
to banish it from her imagination, being, however, less troubled at the
apprehension of the pains of hell, than at the idea of being hated by
God, whom she loved with her whole heart. During the long continuance of
the temptation she multiplied her prayers, though prayer no longer
consoled her, and her penances, though she felt a secret horror for
them. Yet she blindly submitted to the guidance of her director, for
whom, however, she felt more _aversion_ than _confidence_. Nothing
consoled her. She had to be compelled to receive Holy Communion, of
which she believed herself unworthy, and from which she abstained for a
considerable time. Only those who have passed through a similar ordeal
can judge of her state of mind at that time, or form any idea of what
she suffered. But in order to be more explanatory, it will again be
necessary to refer to the Memoirs.
As has been already stated, on her second return from France she found
herself surrounded by more than forty aspirants to the religious state,
who led most humble and penitential lives yet though all were very
_fervent_, all were not equally _strong_, either in body or mind, and
the health of many among them visibly declined, so that it became
necessary to set bounds to their austerities, especially as they were
not yet under the guidance of an approved rule, which of its own nature
would have prevented indiscreet excesses. A mitigation of penitential
practices was therefore openly and undisguisedly advocated but Sister
Bourgeois, all charitable and submissive as she was, did not relish
these suggestions--fearing that a door would be opened to relaxation.
She had already reproached herself bitterly for the consent reluctantly
given to the building of the first _large_ house for the community, and,
notwithstanding the lapse of years, she still regarded its erection as
contrary to the spirit of poverty, humility, and mortification they
would have preserved in the stable which had been the cradle of the
Congregation.
"The grand building brought in its train," she said, "drapery and
mattresses--delicate food and fine furniture--and so many other fine
things that there was no room left for holy poverty."
Her apprehensions for the future were a species of martyrdom to her, and
a difference of opinion was the commencement of all her mental anguish,
as after that period we find her Memoirs filled with painful
reflections. In 1677 a young person presented herself for admission, who
was unfit for any duties except out-door employment, and Sister
Bourgeois refused to receive her. The refusal, however, was contrary to
the desire of any of the Sisters, although it was approved of by
ecclesiastical superiors. The Foundress, writing of the circumstance,
says: "From that time I think the Sisters lost confidence in me, and I
lost the liberty of speaking of such matters to them."
This was a sad position for a superior who believed God's work would
suffer by a real or supposed lack of confidence. It will be remembered
she was engaged for two entire years in the task of procuring new
subjects, together with the _letters patent_ for the institute, and
during that time the signal favors she received from both God and man
gave her much consolation. But no sooner had she returned to Ville-Marie
than she was replunged into sorrowful embarrassments, as she noticed
that what _seemed to her_ to be relaxations had crept in. She attributed
the fire of 1683, and the deaths of her two best subjects on that
occasion, to her own sins, and overwhelmed with these ideas, her life
became a sad and pensive one.
She was also firmly persuaded (in her deep humility) that she was
unworthy and incapable of governing the rising Congregation. So
persuaded was she of it, that she frequently asked the Sisters to accept
her resignation, but as they justly attributed her request to an
over-scrupulous conscience, they refused to acquiesce. She then
reproached herself with infidelity to her vocation in seeking to be
released from the burden of superiority, as she had often promised
Almighty God that, come what would, she should never abandon His work.
Sometimes pride whispered that she was quite useful in the position she
occupied. At other times she felt convinced that others could discharge
the duty better. Always disquieted, always agitated, she knew not what
to do. In this state of desolation, she lost confidence in her
directors, who she supposed, did not understand her. The only
consolation she experienced was an absolute submission to the orders of
Divine Providence, and a firm confidence that God would at last arrange
all things well for His greater glory. And so things were arranged,
indeed, but in such a manner that this spouse of the Crucified had to
drink to the dregs the saving chalice of affliction, and taste in her
inmost soul all its bitterness.
She had now labored for a quarter of a century in the exercise of all
sorts of good works. Her body was lacerated by the rudest austerities.
She was a martyr to mental anxiety, and had but one beacon-light during
her long spiritual darkness, viz., the certainty that she loved God and
was loved by Him. Nevertheless her chalice was not yet full. In 1689, on
the night of November 3d, one of the Sisters remained up long after the
others had retired to rest. Suddenly a Sister who had died about sixteen
months before stood before her (as she affirmed), and said slowly and
distinctly, "I am sent by God to warn the superior of this Congregation
that she is in mortal sin," naming at the same time the person who was
the cause of her guilt. The astonished listener related the apparition
to Sister Bourgeois, who regarded it as the wanderings of a diseased
imagination. But two months after, January 3d, 1690, the deceased again
appearing to the same Sister, said, "The superior has not done what she
ought to do; it is the last warning I can give her, for I am now going
to Paradise," and so saying, disappeared. The visionary (for as such,
only should she be regarded) went again to inform the Foundress of what
had transpired, and at this second blow the poor superior succumbed,
appearing to be indeed stricken by the anger of God. It seems strange
that her strong mind could be deceived, even for a season. Perhaps her
great age made her more susceptible to the influence of an asserted
vision, than she would have been at an earlier period of life. To
declare that she was at enmity with God, was to inflict a grievous wound
on her heart, and this warning reduced her almost to a state of despair.
She felt that she was a reproach among her Sisters. She dared not speak
to them, and hardly raised her eyes before them. The Sacraments she
regarded with extreme repugnance, believing that they had hitherto been
useless to her, and that her receiving them now would be profanation. It
happened, however, by the dispensation of God, that her director was a
wise and skilful ascetic, who narrowly watched the operations of grace
in her soul, and treated her accordingly, and as she blindly followed
his directions during the time of trial, she daily sanctified herself
more and more.
It was at this precise period that M. de St. Vallier came to Montreal
for the first time, and the humble Sister frankly acquainted him with
her state of mind and its consequences, asking him very earnestly to
appoint another Sister in her place, in order that things might work
well and confidence be restored. However, the Bishop did not consent to
her resignation then, hoping that her pain of mind would soon disappear.
But on his return to Montreal, in 1693, he found matters still in the
same state, and consented to a first election in the Congregation,
presiding on the occasion himself. Sister Marie Barbier of the
Assumption was elected superior, to the satisfaction of the whole
community, and above all of Sister Bourgeois herself, who, being at last
relieved of the responsibilities of superior, hoped soon to regain her
long-lost peace of mind, and so it happened. For in January of the next
year, 1694, being just four years from the time she was first warned of
her eternal damnation, she felt a distinct conviction in her soul that
she was fully reconciled with God. And all her pain of mind disappeared.
This interior light, however, only determined her to labor still more
earnestly for the glory of God and the maintenance of regular
observances. She was a member of the council of the new superior, but
the honor of the position caused her much disquiet, as she never ceased
to assert that it was on account of her sins the former austerities of
the house had partly fallen into disuse. The change of superiors had not
in the least diminished the esteem of the Sisters for _her_, who had
been so long their faithful mother in God, and they omitted no
opportunity of testifying their esteem, which affectionate attention was
doubtless agreeable to her kind heart. In order to tranquilize her mind,
and on account of her great age, they judged it expedient to dispense
her from attending at the public exercises of the community, leaving the
infirmary entirely at her disposal, where she might occupy herself with
some light work, as much for recreation as employment. She obeyed
without reply, and it may not be uninteresting to hear what she thought
of her _exile_, as she called it. The Memoir says:
"Although charged, conjointly with my Sisters, to watch over the welfare
of the house, I knew nothing of what passed in it. For four years I
occupied myself with a little sewing, remaining all the time in the
infirmary. I slept there, took my meals there, on account of my great
age, they said, and that I might be a companion for Sister Crolo, who
could no longer go to the refectory. I held no conversation with the
Sisters, very rarely went to our chapel, as we of the infirmary could
easily hear Mass from our apartment, it being so constructed as to open
directly fronting the altar. Yet my former disquiet returned, and I knew
not what to determine on, because I could not divest myself of the idea
that God required greater perfection from the community than I saw
practised in it. It is true they tried to console me by asserting that
all was well, and that I might set my mind at rest. I answered them
nothing, but I could not conceal from myself that relaxation existed,
and that I was the cause of it. I suffered more in this perplexity of
mind than I can ever explain." She sighed sadly during her stay in the
infirmary, until it pleased God to let peace again dawn upon her soul,
by imparting to her a spirit of sensible and tender devotion, and by
permitting her to return to the ordinary way in living in her institute
during the few remaining years of her life. On the night of July 5th,
1697, as she was meditating on the means of repairing the faults of
which she believed herself guilty, a _thought_, as distinct as a
_voice_, told her she was the Jonas of the Congregation, and that like
him, she deserved to be cast into the sea. To this interior voice she
could only reply that she was willing to do all in her power to
contribute to the glory of God, and do his will. Then the strange
inspiration ceased, but on the following night it returned more strongly
and vividly than at first, making her understand, like Samuel in the
temple, that _God had spoken_; that it was time to renounce the ideal
perfection which tormented her, and that a blind obedience to her
directors was her only remedy. She therefore opened her heart to the
confessor of the community, M. de Valens, and also to M. Caillen, pastor
of Ville-Marie, who decided on sending her to her superior, there to
disclose all the anxious thoughts that agitated her soul, and speak of
whatever she conceived to be for the welfare of the Congregation. The
docile Sister did as directed, and in order to give her useful and
practical occupation, the superior told her to write what the Holy
Spirit would inspire for the guidance of the institute she had so
happily founded. These precious manuscripts are replete with lessons of
divine wisdom, and it is from their pages her children still select the
beautiful instructions and maxims that keep her spirit alive among them.
Her heart being thus freed from its silent agony, she found herself at
last completely delivered from the torture she had so long endured, her
only desire, for the three remaining years of her life being to exhibit
a model of the social and community virtues she had taught to others for
more than 50 years. Nor was it only at this late period of her life she
had resolved to resign the office of superior, for in 1680, before
making her third voyage to France to procure rules for her institute,
she had earnestly and tearfully asked the Sisters to elect another in
her place, alleging her unfitness and unworthiness. What must have been
her astonishment, to hear all exclaim as with one voice and without a
moment's hesitation, that they had chosen _the Mother of God for their
superior_, and _Foundress_; that they should ever regard _her_ as their
_first_ Mother in time and in eternity, but begged Sister Bourgeois to
continue her government under the protection of their common Mother, to
whose love and service she and they were alike pledged. In consequence
of this unanimous choice, the holy Foundress, prostrating herself with
the whole community before the statue of the Blessed Virgin, addressed
to her impromptu, the following prayer:--
"O holy Virgin, behold this little band of your servants, who have
consecrated themselves to the service of God under your protection, who
wish to follow your example, as good children follow their earthly
mother's, and who regard you as their cherished Foundress, and first
Superior. We hope that the good God agrees with our election, and gives
you the absolute government of this Congregation, which is your work. We
have nothing to present to God, but we hope through your means, to
obtain all the graces necessary for our salvation and the perfection of
our state, _You_ know best what is necessary for us, and what we now ask
is, that you will never refuse us your assistance. Help us by your all
powerful intercession to receive the light of the Holy Spirit, that we
may be enabled to labor efficaciously for the education and religious
instruction of our pupils, according to our profession. But above all
things we ask, dear Lady and Mother, that our successors and those who
contribute to their spiritual advancement, may be of the number of the
elect, so that in your glorious society we may all praise our good God
during a happy eternity." It was therefore the Blessed Virgin who was
elected first Superior of the Congregation. What a grand motive of Faith
this afforded to the succeeding superiors, who, believing that they held
the place of Mary herself, were all the more strictly bound to advance
the spiritual perfection of their subjects, especially in the practice
of holy obedience. It was only on _this condition_ that Sister Bourgeois
consented to the desire of her daughters, that she should continue to
govern them as assistant, their and her principal superior being the
queen of Heaven. However, when she returned from France in 1684, as
before stated, she again solicited the Sisters to elect a new superior,
and so eager was her desire that the Community held one chapter for the
purpose, in which nothing was decided, the suffrages being equally
divided between two candidates, who were each remarkable for the most
sublime virtue. That same night, while the matter was still pending, the
fire broke out, and both Sisters perished in the flames. Seven years
later, the Foundress brought up the matter again, as there was an
excellent subject on the mission at Quebec, who was well calculated to
discharge the duties of Superior. This was Sister Anne Verand, one of
the first members, and the same who had ten years before commenced the
mission of "The Holy Family" with Sister Assumption. All eyes were
turned upon her as the new superior, but as she was then ill at Quebec,
the community directed her to return home, hoping that her health would
soon be re-established, and that she would then fill the position
intended for her. She returned promptly, although in a dying condition,
and went to receive the reward of her obedience and pious labors a few
days after. By her unexpected death, all her plans were a second time
upset. If these occurrences may not be reckoned among the marvellous or
supernatural, they are at least very singular. For the next two years,
the Sisters carefully abstained from commenting on these strange events
before Sister Bourgeois, but she had no idea of desisting from her
importunities, and in September, 1693, again assembled the community on
the all-important subject of an election. Having previously obtained the
consent of M. de St. Vallier, she publicly resigned her office in the
manner required by the constitutions, although they were not yet
canonically approved, and read with a strong clear voice, the following
written declaration:
"There is no longer any doubt that I am a great sinner, who has not been
faithful to the sacred duty so lovingly confided to me. I deserve the
pain of mind I suffer, because my criminal relaxations have extended
even to you. I humbly ask your pardon, and beg the succor of your
prayers. Remedy this state of things now, as much as may be, by changing
the superior, and let her, whoever she may be, see that even the least
rules are carefully observed, otherwise the members of the community
will be no better than seculars leading Christian lives. Renew, then, in
yourselves the spirit that you ought to have, that is, poverty,
humility, obedience, and an entire abandonment of yourselves into the
hands of God." It has been related already that Sister Assumption was
elected superior in her stead. So it will not be necessary to revert
again to the fact. It was by direction of this superior the Foundress
wrote the beautiful instructions and maxims that have always been
regarded as the richest inheritance of her spiritual children. Yet some
of her instructions were not suited to every grade of intellect, the
perfection they inculcated being so sublime that a few were frightened,
and as timid and indiscreet souls are to be found everywhere, there was
one in the young Congregation, who dared to say to Sister Bourgeois,
that it was useless for her to try to establish such extraordinary
perfection among the the Sisters as was suited to herself alone, and
that being no longer superior, she was not answerable before God for the
pretended relaxations of which she complained. This remark was stinging,
and to the point.
Yet the holy Foundress was not at all offended by it. It was for her a
message sent from heaven, and she received it with unfeigned humility,
determining to write nothing in future that could displease the lowliest
of the Sisters. We quote from her manuscript on the occasion:
"The members of our Congregation should live in the most perfect union,
in imitation of the early Christians, under the direction of the Blessed
Virgin. We should have but one heart and one soul in God, as without
this concord we would not be truly a community. The Holy Spirit that
animates us is a spirit of simplicity, poverty, disengagement from all
things, and the most entire abandonment to God."