wholly rejected, and the Church militant was punished for this
negligence of infidelity of her servants by being oppressed by her
enemies, or by temporal humiliations. Revelations of this description
raised to excess her love for the Church, her mother. She passed days
and nights in praying for her, in offering to God the merits of Christ,
with continual groans, and in imploring mercy. Finally, on these
occasions, she gathered together all her courage, and offered to take
upon herself both the fault and the punishment, like a child presenting
itself before the king's throne, in order to suffer the punishment she
had incurred. It was then said to her, 'See how wretched and miserable
thou art thyself; thou who art desirous to satisfy for the sins of
others.' And to her great terror she beheld herself as one mournful mass
of infinite imperfection. But still her love remained undaunted, and
burst forth in these words, 'Yes, I am full of misery and sin; but I am
thy spouse, O my Lord, and my Saviour! My faith in thee and in the
redemption which thou hast brought us covers all my sins as with thy
royal mantle. I will not leave thee until thou hast accepted my
sacrifice, for the superabundant treasure of thy merits is closed to
none of thy faithful servants.' At length her prayer became wonderfully
energetic, and to human ears there was like a dispute and combat with
God, in which she was carried away and urged on by the violence of
love. If her sacrifice was accepted, her energy seemed to abandon her,
and she was left to the repugnance of human nature for suffering. When
she had gone through this trial, by keeping her eyes fixed on her
Redeemer in the Garden of Olives, she next had to endure indescribable
sufferings of every description, bearing them all with wonderful
patience and sweetness. We used to see her remain several days
together, motionless and insensible, looking like a dying lamb. Did we
ask her how she was, she would half open her eyes, and reply with a
sweet smile, 'My sufferings are most salutary.'