Blessed Henry Suso

He was not only sustained by his inner aspirations; to console his soul, thus deprived of earthly happiness, God showed him heavenly happiness in a vision one day while he was weeping alone in the church; his memory retained the taste of this ecstasy, just as a vase retains the scent of a perfume, and this memory delivered him more and more from human affections.

Seeing in the Holy Scriptures that Eternal Wisdom, who is none other than Our Lord, offers herself to men as a tender Virgin with incomparable charms, he groaned, he sighed, he burned for her with the most ardent flames. "My young and ardent heart," he said to himself, "is inclined to love; it is impossible for me to live without loving: creatures cannot please me and cannot give me peace; yes, I want to try my luck and endeavor to obtain the good graces of this divine and holy friend, of whom such admirable and sublime things are told."

He savored with holy intoxication these words: "Wisdom is more radiant than the sun, she is more beautiful than the harmony of the heavens, and when compared to light, she is found preferable. Therefore I have loved her, I have sought her from my childhood, I have asked for her as my spouse and I have become the worshiper of her charms... When this heavenly spouse comes to dwell in my heart, how sweetly my soul will rest in her! Her presence and her conversations cannot cause boredom and bitterness; on the contrary, she always brings continuous peace and joy... Oh! he who loves her, this Wisdom, who embraces her, possesses her, and follows her in her paths, has no need to fear wanderings and falls! When he wishes to sleep, he will not be awakened by the phantoms of terror; his rest will be assured and his sleep always delightful."

But the infernal serpent tried to soil with his venom these pure enjoyments with which the soul of our Saint was drinking. "What are you doing," he often said to him, "what folly to want to love what you do not know, what you have never seen! Is it not better to possess a small certain thing than to attempt a great one that is very doubtful? Besides, your alleged Eternal Wisdom demands that her lovers be enemies of themselves, that they deprive themselves of sleep, food, wine, relaxation, pleasures."

Our Saint replied: "It is a law of love that he who wishes to love must resign himself to pain: see what fatigues, what disgusts, and what disappointments the lovers of the world endure! — I have found woman more bitter than death, says Ecclesiastes; she is like the hunter's snare, her heart is a taut bow and her hands are true chains: the friend of God will flee from her, but the sinner will become her prey."

However, he would have very much liked to see at least once the divine Spouse whose love he preferred to all those of the earth; as he reached out to her with all the yearnings of his heart, she appeared to him in the distance, raised on a column of cloud and on a throne of ivory, with a majesty more brilliant than the morning, more dazzling than the sun: her crown was eternity; her veil and her garment were bliss; her language was sweetness, and her embraces were the abundance and possession of all good; she appeared at once distant and near, sublime and humble, evident and hidden, simple and yet incomprehensible, higher than the heights of the heavens, deeper than the abysses of the sea; it was like a queen who reigned with power to the ends of the earth, and who governed every creature with gentleness; sometimes she seemed to him a pure and charming virgin, sometimes a young man of exquisite beauty; sometimes she was a mistress learned in all things, sometimes a tender friend who turned gently toward him and smiled at him with grace and majesty, saying: *Fili, præbe mihi cor tuum*: — "My son, give me your heart."

Then, he would throw himself at her feet and render her the most humble, the most loving thanks: "Yes," he cried, "I want you, I choose you for my beloved, for the sovereign of my heart." Who could say how many times, since that time, he embraced her in the depths of his heart! He clung to her like the little child who, in his mother's arms, clings to her breasts and hides in her bosom; this weak being moves his head and his little body to reach the one who feeds him and to show her, through caresses and kisses, the joy of his heart; thus the soul of Henry stirred and tormented itself in the presence of the divine Wisdom, all intoxicated as he was by the torrent of heavenly consolations.

One day, he took a penknife, and, love guiding his hand, he cut himself, he lacerated his chest until he had formed the letters of the holy name of Jesus on his heart; then he cried out: "O unique love of my soul, O my Jesus! see then the ardor of my passion for you! I have imprinted you in my flesh; but I am not satisfied, I would like to go further and reach the center of my heart; I cannot; but may your tenderness welcome my prayer; may it supply what I lack, and, since you can, engrave your holy name yourself in the depths of this heart, and that, with eternal letters that nothing can erase or destroy in me."

These letters, wounds of love, appeared on his chest until his death, and at each beat of his heart, the name of Jesus made itself felt in a very particular way. We cannot recount all the other consolations he received from heaven: one day, in ecstasy, he saw a ray of pure light come out of his heart, and, in his heart itself, a magnificent golden cross shine and resplend.

Another time, when he was greeting his star of love, the sovereign Queen of heaven, in the morning, and singing to her in his soul a delicious canticle, as little birds do in summer for the sunrise, a melodious voice answered him interiorly with these words: *Maria, stella maris, hodie processit ad ortum*: — "Behold Mary, the star of the sea, who rises."

Then this sweet Queen, leaning with kindness toward her child, said to him: "The more lovingly you embrace me on earth, the more tenderly I will embrace you in paradise; the more your soul has pursued me with a chaste love detached from the senses, the more also, on the day of eternal light, you will reign united and attached to my heart."

At the time of Carnival, as he had spent an entire night in prayer, in the morning, at the moment when day was about to appear, the angels descended into his cell and sang: *Surge, illuminare, Jerusalem, quia venit lumen tuum, et gloria Domini super te orta est*: — "Arise, shine, Jerusalem, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you."

This song excited such joy in the soul of our Saint that his body, no longer having the strength to bear such happiness, the celestial voices were forced to fall silent.

The souls of the dead appeared to him like the angels, to reveal to him their state, their joys, or their sorrows; he saw, among others, the soul of a holy man named Eckhart; it told him t hat it Eckard Dominican mystic whose soul appears to Henry Suso. was in heaven, happy, flooded with an ineffable glory, and truly entirely transformed into God.

Henry asked him what was, in our pilgrimage, the most effective spiritual exercise to arrive at this perfect beatitude. The soul replied: "It is to renounce oneself and all property, by trusting blindly in God; it is to receive everything that happens as coming from the Creator, and not from the creature; it is to be patient and gentle with those who pursue us like furious wolves."

He asked another inhabitant of the celestial abode what was the greatest pain that the just could bear and the most meritorious for obtaining eternal glory; it was answered to him: "It is to find oneself abandoned by God, to forget oneself, and to do violence to oneself, to the point of resigning oneself out of love to remain deprived of God, as much as it pleases God himself."

These visits from the other world strengthened him greatly in the service of God. Let us now see how he performed his actions: at the table, he imagined that he was in front of or beside Jesus, and that this divine guest granted him a very special grace by honoring him with his presence. Thus he kept the eyes of his soul constantly fixed on him, and he sometimes lowered his head humbly as if to lean and rest on that breast pierced by a lance because of our crimes. He offered his food, he presented his glass to Jesus Christ, praying him to bless them; the little that was necessary for him to quench his thirst, he took in five times to honor the five wounds of the Redeemer, and the last time was divided into two sips, because from the side of Our Lord had flowed water and blood. Likewise, with each bite, he occupied himself with some pious thought; but he always took the first and the last in union with the ardent charity of the highest Seraph in heaven and in participation with the most inflamed heart on earth, and he begged God to be willing to penetrate his soul with these two loves. When he found some unpleasant dish, he first placed it in the bleeding heart of Jesus and then ate it with courage.

It is impossible to say with what sensible devotion he celebrated the holy sacrifice of the Mass and how he was inflamed with love. One day, at these words: *Sursum corda, gratias agamus Domino Deo nostro*: — "Let us lift up our hearts and give thanks to the Lord our God," he was rapt in ecstasy, and those present, having noticed it, asked him what his thoughts were then. Our Saint replied: "Three thoughts above all agitate and inflame my heart. First, I contemplate in spirit my whole being, my soul, my body, my strengths, my powers, and around me all the creatures with which the Almighty has populated the heaven, the earth, and the elements, the angels of heaven, the beasts of the forests, the inhabitants of the waters, the plants of the earth, the sand of the sea, the atoms that fly in the air in the sunbeam, the snowflakes, the drops of rain, and the pearls of dew. I think that, to the most remote ends of the world, all creatures obey God and contribute as much as they can to this mysterious harmony that rises incessantly to praise and bless the Creator. I then imagine myself to be in the middle of this concert like a choir master: I apply all my faculties to mark the measure; I invite, I excite, by the most vivid movements of my heart, the most intimate of my soul, to sing joyfully with me: *Sursum... habemus ad Dominum; gratias agamus Domino Deo nostro*: — Lift up your hearts! We have them toward the Lord; let us render a thousand thanks to the Lord our God.

"I then consider my heart and those of all men; I think of the joy, the love, the peace of those who consecrate themselves solely to God; then of the misfortunes, the tortures, the remorses, the agitation of those who are passionate for the world with such solicitude and ardor. Then I call with all my strength all the men who populate the earth, to rise with me to God to praise and bless him. I cry out: O poor hearts of men, overcome then the wave that carries you away, finally emerge from vice and death, break the chains of your hard prison, shake off the sleep of your apathy; may a holy and true conversion lead you to God to thank and serve him! *Sursum corda; gratias agamus Domino Deo nostro*.

"Finally, I address myself to those innumerable souls who have good will, but who do not abandon themselves entirely to God. I weep and I groan bitterly over them, because, in their deplorable error, they can enjoy neither God nor creatures, but they go astray in the vain pursuit of the things of the earth. I invite them, I excite them to despise with courage the frivolous love of creatures, to give themselves to God forever, to love him with confidence, and to thank him by saying: *Sursum corda; gratias agamus Domino Deo nostro*."

Our Lord warned Henry that he would only reach His divinity by following the rough and painful path of His humanity; from then on, every night, after Matins, he would withdraw to a corner of the Chapter house to exercise himself on the Passion of his Savior and to take part in all His sorrows by meditating on them and sympathizing with them. Beginning at the Last Supper, he followed Jesus Christ from one place to another, attended His judgment, carried His cross, and kissed the traces of His painful journey to Calvary: he stirred himself to abandon, following the example of this divine Model, his friends, his possessions, and all temporal enjoyments; to trample honors underfoot; when the funeral procession passed before him, he greeted the holy Victim, asking to die with Him: Ave, Rex noster, Fili David, etc. — "Hail, O our King, Son of David..."; then, considering the poor Mother who consented, for us, to such a great sacrifice, he said to her: Salve, Regina, Mater misericordiae: — "Hail, O our Queen, O Mother of mercy!" After the painful funeral, he consoled her and accompanied her from Calvary to her home.

In the evening, while the Salve, Regina was being sung, he greeted her at the entrance to Jerusalem with these words: Eia ergo, Advocata nostra: — "Console yourself, console yourself; is it not through this precious blood that you become our Advocate? Ah! in the name of Jesus dead before our eyes and laid upon your knees, cast a benevolent look upon my soul"; at the door of her house, with these final words: O clemens, o pia, o dulcis Virgo Maria! — "O clement, O tender, O sweet Virgin Mary, defend me against the assaults of the demon, save me at the hour of death."

He took part in the Passion of Our Lord above all through rigorous silence and mortifications that exceed anything one can imagine: he wore a hair shirt, an iron chain, which he later replaced with a garment woven of ropes, in which were one hundred and fifty iron spikes so sharp that they made his whole body like a single wound; he let himself be devoured by worms, in order, he said, to die every minute, without ever dying entirely; during the night, his hands and arms were held in leather rings and closed with padlocks. Later, he left his hands free, but he covered them with two gloves lined with iron spikes, so that they resembled currycombs or cards. Thus, his hands would tear him like the claws of a bear if he touched his body while sleeping. He also placed on his shoulders a wooden cross a palm long, with thirty nails in honor and recognition of all the wounds that Jesus Christ suffered to prove His love for us. He scourged himself with all kinds of instruments, with more cruelty than his most bitter enemy would have done.

A miraculous thing happened in this regard: a holy nun named Anne, who was in prayer in a distant city, was transported in a vision to the place where our Saint was macerating his body with a holy fury. Having seen the cruel blows he was inflicting upon himself, she felt compassion for him and reached out her arm to receive the blow that Henry intended for himself. It seemed to her that she was struck herself, so much so that, upon coming out of her ecstasy, she saw her arm all livid and black, and she remained ill for some time.

His bed was an old door upon which he spread a small rush mat that reached only to his knees; his pillow, a sack full of oat straw; he went to bed dressed as he was during the day, with all his instruments of torture. For twenty-five years, he never approached a fire; he took only one very frugal meal a day, never ate fish, meat, or eggs, contenting himself with bread, vegetables, and fruit. He drank wine only on Easter Day; he allowed himself only a little water, and only at dinner; he never wanted to relieve his thirst by taking a few drops more than usual: this torment was one of the harshest he endured. One day, as he was groaning about it, he heard a voice from above that said in his heart: "Remember, Henry, how terrible my thirst was when I was on the cross, in the final agonies of death. Although I was the Creator of all fountains, I could obtain then to relieve myself only gall and vinegar. Endure still with patience the thirst you feel, if you wish to follow in my footsteps."

He deserved, through this harsh deprivation, to receive in ecstasy, from the hands of Jesus and Mary, a vessel full of a heavenly drink, of such great sweetness and virtue that, after having drunk it, his thirst was calmed, and he found himself completely refreshed and consoled.

When he had practiced these excessive mortifications for twenty-two years, which had so beaten and worn him down that he had nothing left but to die, God commanded him to abandon them to enter a path even more perfect. Caught up in ecstasy, he saw a young man wearing a knight's armor who clothed him in it, saying: 'You have fought as a foot soldier; henceforth, God wants you to serve Him as a generous knight.'

Then it was explained to him that he would have to sustain more terrible wars and win more brilliant victories than Hector, Achilles, and Caesar. He was told how his bodily mortifications were to be replaced by spiritual ones: 'I wish,' Our Lord said to him, 'to reveal to you three crosses among those I am preparing for you. The first cross will be this: Formerly, you struck yourself with your own hands as much as you wished, and you stopped when you felt pity for yourself; now, you will be in the hands of others, you will be mistreated and struck without being able to defend yourself: furthermore, you will lose the esteem and consideration of many, and that will be more painful to you than that cross full of nails which tore your flesh and your shoulders. You were praised, you were admired in your voluntary mortifications; but when you suffer henceforth, you will be lowered, despised, and ridiculed by everyone.

The second cross will be this: Although you have martyred yourself with many cruel tortures, you have kept your man's heart and your loving nature: you enjoy the affection of many people; but, where you had found trust, esteem, and love, you will henceforth encounter everywhere signal disloyalty; you will be so played and overwhelmed that you will become the sorrow and despair of the few who remain faithful to you. Here is the third cross: Until now, I have nourished you like a little child with the milk of my divine grace, and that, with such abundance, that you often felt yourself plunged into an ocean of delights; henceforth, I will withdraw my graces and my consolations; I will deliver you to poverty, to spiritual aridity; you will be abandoned by God and by men, tormented in every way by your friends and your enemies, and what you seek, what you attempt to console and relieve yourself in your anguish, will always turn against you.'

And as our Saint trembled with terror at the sight of such battles, a voice said to him interiorly: 'Have good courage, for I will be with you and I will make you victorious in all your battles.'

He often became discouraged, but he was immediately strengthened by Our Lord; when he was insulted by his own and turned his head away in disgust and indignation, he heard in the depths of his soul these reproaches: 'Did I turn my head away when men insulted me and spat in my face?' Then he would correct himself, go find those who had mistreated him, and speak to them with gentleness.

God seemed to have permitted all the demons of hell to torment him day and night: they deliberated once before him on the means to make him suffer more, and one of them, putting a sword in his mouth, tore his gums so much and caused him such a great toothache that, for three days, he could absolutely eat nothing.

The heaviest interior crosses he had to bear were a continuous temptation between faith and the principal mysteries; a deep sadness which, for eight years, weighed on his soul like a heavy mountain; a temptation of despair: he was pursued everywhere by the thought that he was reprobate. God was preparing even harsher ones for him in the apostolate, for He did not want this lamp to burn always in darkness; He sent him into the world to work for the salvation of souls.

One day he had a vision. It seemed to him that he was near a city, in the midst of a great number of angels. Then an angel, who was near him, said to him: "Extend your hand." And when he had extended his hand, behold, a beautiful rose grew upon it, with beautiful green leaves. The rose grew to the point of covering the entire hand, up to the tips of the fingers, and furthermore, it was so beautiful and so radiant that it was delightful to behold. And having turned his hand over, on both sides he saw admirable things. Then he said to his companion: "My dear guardian angel, what does this vision mean?" The angel replied: "The two roses you have on your hands, and the two roses you have on your feet, mean that you are going to have to endure misfortune upon misfortune."

Then Suzo said with a sigh: "My good angel, it is an admirable thing to see that the tribulations, which make the body and heart suffer so much, are for us an ornament before God."

And so it was. Soon, throughout the city and the whole country, slanderous rumors spread about him. There was then in the city of Constance a convent, where there was a stone ville de Constance Diocese to which Waldsee belongs. cross, and on this cross was a Christ who, it was said, was exactly the size of Our Lord. Now one day, during Lent, fresh blood was found on this Christ, at the place of the wound in his side. Suzo, having heard of this miracle, also went, with many others, to see it. And when he was there, he approached very closely, and took some of this blood on his finger to examine it. Then the crowd that surrounded him pressed around him and demanded that he say what he thought of this miracle. He said frankly and sincerely that it was not possible for him to say whether this extraordinary event should be attributed to God or to men. Thereupon his enemies spread the rumor that Suzo had cut his finger to make blood come out, and thus make the simple-minded believe that the blood had been produced by the Christ of the stone cross. It was added that he had acted thus out of avarice, to get money from the crowd. And these slanderous rumors spread throughout the region.

Then the inhabitants of Constance rioted against him, so that he fled during the night, otherwise they would have killed him. Driven by hatred, they offered a large sum of money to whoever would bring him back dead or alive. In this way, his name was covered with shame and disgrace in all the surrounding countries, and when his friends, who knew his innocence, wanted to defend him, they were reduced to silence and overwhelmed with insults.

A pious woman of Constance, moved with compassion for all that was happening, went to find him, and advised him to have an authentic act in his favor given to him by those who were convinced of his innocence, and who were very numerous, and then to go and live in another city. Suzo replied to her: "Alas! My good lady, if I had only that to suffer, I would willingly do what you advise me; but my whole life is a fabric of tribulations: I therefore prefer to leave it to God."

One day, he was on his way to the Low Countries, where he was to attend a chapter of his Order. There again he found his cross: Two important men preceded him there to overwhelm him with odious imputations. He was formally accused before the superiors of his Order. One of the charges was the following: He was reproached for writing books filled with errors, through which the poison of heresy was spreading everywhere around him. He was severely reprimanded on this subject, and threatened with the greatest evils, although everyone knew that he was entirely innocent.

That was not all: God permitted that during his return, he was struck by a violent fever. All that was not enough yet: besides the fever, he had an abscess near his heart; so that to the pains of the soul were also added the poignant sufferings of the body. His condition was sometimes so serious that his companion, looking at him with commiseration, believed him to be near expiring.

Now, one night, being in bed in a foreign convent, and unable to sleep because of his pains, he entered into an account with God, and he said: "Ah! Just God, why then have you thus overwhelmed me with evils of all kinds, with heartaches, illness, and physical suffering? When then will you cease, good Father, to strike me thus from all sides at once?..." And after he had spoken thus, he felt his whole body covered with a cold sweat, similar to that of the agony of Jesus in the Garden of Olives. And as it was impossible for him to stay in bed because of the abscess, he let himself slide onto a chair that was very close. Then he had a vision: it seemed to him that his cell was filling with a legion of celestial spirits who, to console him, began to sing ineffable songs. And these songs did him so much good that he was as if healed. And while they were singing thus, an angel detached himself from the celestial choir, approached Suzo, and said to him with sweetness: "Why do you not sing with us? You know these beautiful celestial songs well enough!..."

Suzo replied with a sigh: "Do you not see how I suffer? Have you ever seen a dying man sing? Formerly I also sang, and with joy; but now I am going to die!..."

The angel replied, with an encouraging tone: *Esto fortis, et viriliter age!* — "Take courage, and do not despair! You will not die yet; you will live again, and then you will intone songs with which God will rejoice in heaven, and by which men will be consoled on earth."

At that very moment, his eyes filled with tears, and he wept abundantly. The abscess he had inside opened, and he was healed on the very hour.

When he had returned home, a man of God came to visit him, and said to him: "My Father, although you were nearly two hundred leagues away from here, I knew everything you had to suffer. I saw one day, through the eyes of my spirit, how the Lord permitted Satan to enter the body of your two powerful accusers, to overwhelm you with afflictions. Then I cried out full of pain: Ah! My God, how can you permit your faithful servant to be thus tormented by the devil and his emissaries? And God answered me thus: He has been chosen to be a faithful image of my Son, through his sufferings; and yet, those who have consented to be the instruments of the demon's will will be punished by a sudden death." And indeed, his two detractors died shortly after.

Another time, as he was going on a journey, he was given as a companion a lay brother who was not animated by the best sentiments, and whom Suzo only took with him out of obedience, because he had often already experienced all kinds of unpleasantness because of him. Now, early in the morning, they arrived together, fasting, in a village where, because of the fair that was being held there that day, there was already a crowd of people. Upon arriving, they were both wet from the rain; the brother then said to Suzo that he could well go and do his business alone; that he preferred to go and warm himself and dry off near a good fire; that, once the business was finished, he would only have to come and get him in such and such a house. But hardly had Suzo left, when the brother went to sit at a table with coarse people and merchants who had come to the fair. These, seeing that the wine had gone to his head, and that he had stationed himself under the carriage gate to watch the passersby, went to grab him by the collar, saying that he had stolen a cheese from them. While he was struggling with them, behold, four or five wicked soldiers arrived and arrested him, saying that he was a poisoner. In those days, epidemic diseases were raging in different parts of Europe, which were falsely attributed to poisoning. And this affair made so much noise that all the inhabitants of the village, as well as the fair people, gathered in front of the house where the monk had been arrested.

He, therefore, seeing that things were taking a bad turn, imagined a way to get out of this embarrassment; he turned to them and spoke to them thus: "Leave me alone for a moment and listen to me, I am going to confess everything to you. You see that I am a simple man, a fool, not very clever. Well, at the convent, as they have more confidence in my companion, who is very skillful in all kinds of things, he was charged with bringing here bags full of poison, with orders to throw them into the wells, from here to Alsace; and everywhere he passes, he poisons the water of the wells. Try therefore to arrest him as quickly as possible, otherwise he will infallibly make you all die; this morning, upon arriving here, he took one of the bags, and he threw it into the large well that is in the middle of the market square, so that all those who drink from it will die poisoned. And that is why I did not want to go with him, because I do not want to take part in his crime. As proof of the truth that I tell you, you will find in his possession a large book bag, in which he hides the poisoned bags and the money that, by virtue of a contract passed between the heads of the Order and the Jews, he receives from them to poison the wells."

After having heard this speech, the rioting crowd cried death and curse against the poor Dominican; and they cried out full of rage: "At the murderer, at the poisoner! And let us hurry, for fear that he might escape us!" Thereupon they ran to look for him, armed with pikes, halberds, maces, etc. They went through all the houses, forcing the doors they found closed, searching with their swords the beds and the piles of straw.

Among the strangers who had come there for the fair, there were some who knew Suzo, and who, having heard his name pronounced, had the courage to defend him in the presence of the irritated crowd. They told them not to give credence to this black slander, that Suzo was a holy man, incapable of such an action. Not having found him, the crowd stopped looking for him, and they took the lay brother before the bailiff, who had him put in prison. Suzo, ignorant of what had happened, finally came to have lunch. But hardly had he arrived there, than those who were there hastened to inform him of everything. Immediately he ran to the bailiff to beg him to release the imprisoned brother. But the bailiff formally refused. Then the holy man wanted to have him released for money; and as he did not have enough, he ran here and there to borrow some, but without success. Finally, by dint of insisting with the bailiff, he nevertheless managed to have his companion set at liberty, by sacrificing a large sum of money.

He then believed that everything was over; but the worst was only about to begin. Towards the hour of Vespers, as he was leaving the bailiff's house to leave the village, behold, the crowd, rioted again by some bad subjects, ran after him shouting: "Here is the assassin! Here is the poisoner of the wells!... We must not let him go; let us beat him to death, and let us not let ourselves be corrupted by his money, as he corrupted the bailiff!..."

Suzo withdrew to go and hide somewhere in the village, but they all ran after him, shouting and threatening him more and more. Some said: "Let us throw him into the Rhine!" Others replied: "No, this bandit-monk would defile the waters of the river: let us burn him!" A peasant of gigantic size, dressed in a dirty jacket and armed with a pike, split the crowd, placed himself in the middle of them, and harangued them in these terms: "Listen to me! We could not better avenge ourselves on this brigand than in the following manner: with this long pike I am going to pierce him through and through, as one would skewer a vile toad! I want to strip him stark naked, this cursed poisoner! Then I will pierce him with my pike, and I will plant him firmly in the middle of this hedge. There he will be left to rot and dry at the top of the pike, as on a gallows, so that all those who happen to pass by here, seeing him, will shake their heads and curse him as a vile assassin, and thus his memory will be forever infamous before God and before men! This will be the just punishment for his crimes."

The unfortunate Suzo, listening to this speech, burst into tears and trembled in all his limbs. Those who were closest to him, moved with pity, beat their breasts and raised their hands to heaven; but they did not dare to defend the monk, because they feared the rage of the others. Night having fallen, Suzo went to different houses, begging with tears for the inhabitants to offer him shelter; but this charity was refused to him everywhere. Not knowing then how to escape death, chased from everywhere, and pursued as a criminal, exhausted with weariness and hunger, he finally let himself be chosen near a hedge, and he raised his eyes swollen with tears to heaven, saying: "O merciful Father, will you not soon come to my aid in this misery and extreme danger? Good Heart of Jesus, have you then entirely forgotten me? Merciful Father, and you, my sweet Jesus, come to my aid. You see it: I must be drowned, or burned alive, or pierced by a pike; come then to my aid! Those who want my death press me from all sides, like ferocious animals: have then pity on me and save me!..."

Finally, a priest of the place, knowing what was happening, and having heard of the sad complaints of Suzo, came to snatch him from the hands of the murderers, and took him to his house, where he kept him until the next morning. Then he provided him with the means to leave the village, safe and sound.

These tears are nothing compared to those he shed for his sister: she had fled from a convent where she was a nun, to run into the world after evil pleasures and the loss of her soul. Our Saint, upon this news, went, his face distraught and unrecognizable, through the convent, gathering information and above all asking for advice from the religious, his brothers; but all pushed him away and fled from him. He did not lose courage for that, offering to God his abandonment, his dishonor: he left, ready to face all precipices, to travel the whole world to follow the traces of the lost sheep; the paths were filled with mud and all broken up by the rains, the journey was painful, our Saint even fell into a ditch; but the love for his sister lifted him up, made him brave all the fatigues. He finally found her, he fainted from pain at her feet; having come to himself, he embraced her while sobbing, he conjured her, with a heartbreaking voice, to abandon sin: he brought her back converted to a more regular and stricter convent, where she lived holily until her death. We would never have finished, if we wanted to recount all the other dangers he ran, all the afflictions with which his soul was drenched: he was so accustomed to trials, that he was astonished when God left him some respite; he then said that his affairs were going badly.

The contempt, the outrages, the insults with which he was overwhelmed, were sometimes so bitter that, no longer able to bear them, he would flee to his oratory in tears, and there complain lovingly: "O my sweet master!" he said one day, "you who are the father of all men, cast your eyes on your poor servant, and please, I pray you, explain yourself with me. I know well that your sovereign majesty has neither great nor small obligations toward me; but it seems to me that your infinite goodness must console afflicted souls, and that you will not be offended if an overwhelmed and abandoned heart hopes in your grace and addresses its complaints to you. Lord, you know all things, and I can invoke your testimony: How have I served you? Have I not begun from my mother's womb to show a tender and sensitive heart? Have I ever been able to see one of my brothers in affliction without being moved to the depths of myself? How could I then have voluntarily saddened anyone? Those with whom I have lived know it well: I have never thought ill of anyone, I have never misinterpreted the actions of others: I have always excused them on the contrary, and, when I could not do so and speak well of them, I kept silent and moved away. When I knew that someone had been wounded in his honor, not only did I have compassion for him, but I also made myself his friend so that he might easily recover the esteem he had lost. Have I not been called the assured father of the unfortunate, the ardent friend of the friends of God? All the afflicted, who have addressed themselves to me, have left me joyful and consoled, for I weep with those who weep, I mingle my groans with their groans, I receive them all with a mother's tenderness, and I always manage to restore their joy and tranquility. When someone has offended me, I have forgiven him on the spot, as if he had not intended to do so. But why speak of men, since I have never been able to see an animal, even a lamb, an insect, suffer without being truly moved, and without asking you, my God, who are all-powerful, to please relieve it? Yes, every living being has found in me a feeling of tenderness and love. How then, merciful Jesus, do you allow so often that I be despised, insulted, outraged by those who surround me? See, Lord, my affliction, console me, since you can."

When Brother Henry had thus relieved his heart in the bosom of his God, peace returned, and he heard within himself these heavenly words: "Henry, the complaints that you address to me are very childish, and that is not surprising, for you have never well meditated on the words and actions of Jesus Christ your Savior. It is not enough for God that you have a tender and sensitive heart, it is courage and perfection that he asks of you; it is not enough that you suffer offenses with resignation, he also wants you to die truly to yourself, and that, when you have been insulted, you never go to bed without having gone to find the one who offended you, to bend his anger and calm his hardness by the sweetness of your words, the serenity of your face, and by your tender and affectionate manners. This humble and patient conduct disarms hatred, fury, and nothing can stop its triumph. This is the eternal way of perfection taught by Jesus Christ, when he says to his disciples: "Behold, I send you as lambs in the midst of wolves."

One day he addressed God and begged him to please reveal to him the graces he poured out in this life upon the afflicted. God answered him in a vision: "My friends whom I afflict, live in gladness and bear everything for my love with a generous courage, because they know well that their patience will have its day of triumph and that their reward will be of infinite price. Is it not just that those who suffer much and who are incessantly unhappy in the midst of the world, become the delights of my heart and live in an ocean of graces, in the midst of a spiritual and unalterable joy? Learn then that all my servants, who have died and risen with me, enjoy above all three particular graces. The first is the permission to desire and to ask for everything they want in heaven and on earth. I grant everything to their intercession. The second is an interior and delicious peace that neither angels, nor men, nor any creature can take from them. The third is an abundance of sweetness and divine caresses that I lavish upon them interiorly, so that they are one thing with me. Incessantly they live in me, and I live in them. Thus, for this moment of affliction so short and so fleeting, the love, which binds me to the soul that suffers, will never be extinguished; it begins in this life and lasts in the other eternally."

The fathers of the Order of Saint Dominic, knowing the eminent wisdom, the great virtue of Brother Henry and the very particular grace he had for converting and saving souls, hastened to send him into the different cities and regions of Germany, so that he might consecrate his talent to the edification of the pe oples. The Blessed one fulfilled hi pères de l'Ordre de Saint-Dominique Religious order to which Magdeleine belonged. s mission with so much zeal and wisdom, that he soon became the most famous preacher of his time. His heavenly words triumphed over all hearts, tore them from the love of the century and even made those who were soiled with the most shameful vices embrace an exemplary life; the demon, who saw all his conquests being torn from him, entered into fury and stirred up a crowd of obstacles for the Blessed one. A holy nun, named Anne, whom Brother Henry directed, saw him in an ecstasy all surrounded by a multitude of demons who cried out roaring: "Cursed monk, come, what must be done to him? let us unite, let us trample him underfoot, let us throw ourselves upon him and massacre him"; and they swore in the midst of their blasphemies to take revenge and to torment him in his body, in his honor, in his reputation, by all sorts of means and violence. When Brother Henry had learned of this conspiracy of hell, he feared a new trial and retired to his chapel, around which he went nine times, praying and invoking the help of the nine choirs of angels against so many cruel enemies who wanted his honor and his life. The angels appeared to him and said to console him: "Fear nothing," Henry, "because the Lord is with you and will not abandon you at the moment of peril. Pursue your enterprise and recall souls to truth and virtue."

The Saint, consoled, consecrated all his strength again to exhorting, to preaching, to confessing; and where there was a lost soul, he ran there immediately to conquer it.

We will cite only one example of the numerous miracles that accompanied these missions: A lady of high birth, who had unfortunately fallen into sin, had repented bitterly, but without confessing it to a confessor; she wept in the secret of her soul, and recommended herself to the Blessed Virgin, who deigned to appear to her and order her to go and confess to Brother Henry. This lady replied that she did not know him; then the Blessed Virgin opened her mantle, and said to her: "It is this religious that you see under my mantle; look at him and you will recognize him. I love him and I protect him: address yourself to him, for he is the father of the unfortunate, and he will console you."

This lady having taken information, went to find Brother Henry and recognized him as the religious of her vision. Our saint listened to her, confessed her and restored her to her first virtue. But he did not pick the roses of the apostolate without encountering cruel thorns. Having learned that a bad woman, whose director he was and whom he fed with his alms, was deceiving him by an odious hypocrisy and continuing her disorders, he believed himself obliged to abandon her. This wicked woman, to take revenge, went to publish through all the convents and through all the city, that a child, whom she had just had, was Brother Henry's. This infamous calumny, which spread rapidly, did not prevent him from taking into his arms this poor abandoned child; the child smiled at him, the Blessed one embracing him and pressing him to his heart, said: "Poor little child, your cruel mother abandons you, and God wants me to serve as your father; I am happy to obey him, and I receive you, not from men, for I am innocent, but from the hands of God himself. Yes, you will be the child of God and mine, even if you should cause me a thousand torments.

The Lord will bless you, the angels will protect you. The same bread will serve us, and I will do you all the good possible for the honor and glory of God."

From that day, he had the needs of this child provided for, whom he took away from his mother. This woman, surprised by so much holiness, blushed with shame and disappeared. However, this lie gaining credence, the superiors of our Saint learned of it, and this was the cruelest blow for his heart; he was tempted with despair and distrust toward God, who seemed to abandon him and play with his pains; then he did not cease to groan and complain to the heart of his tender Jesus, who finally made his innocence shine forth.

It was mainly for the salvation of religious persons that Suzo faced all difficulties, overcame all obstacles, and God granted him the grace to withdraw from vice, sometimes in a miraculous manner, these stray souls delivered to guilty affections, despite the bonds that attached them indissolubly to the heavenly Spouse. Here is one of these surprising conversions: In a convent was a nun of high birth, who led a dissolute life. She abhorred and detested the Saint, in the fear that he would withdraw her from the mire where she was sunk, and where she delighted as in a paradise. Child of darkness, she fled the light. Her sister, who was of great virtue, begged Brother Henry to please help her and bring her back to a more honest life. The Saint replied to her: "I feel that it would be easier for me to lower the heavens than to convert this unfortunate one." — "Yet," the sister said to him, "if you interceded well with God, you would not be repulsed."

The Servant of God prayed for the sinner, and presented himself once to speak to her; but she, furious, cast threatening looks at him, and cried to him: "What do you want? Return to your cell, and never speak to me of changing my life; I would rather lose my head than confess: I would rather be buried alive than obey you and quit my habits."

Her sister always sought to make her consent and listen to Brother Henry. Finally, she found an occasion to put her in the impossibility of avoiding him. Then the Saint said to her while shedding tears: "O you, who are all beautiful, you the chosen spouse of God, until when will you leave this soul so noble and this body so perfect under the power of the demon? God did not make you so lovable and so graceful, but so that you would give yourself to him, who is the flower of lovers. Do not the roses of spring belong to him who made them born? Remember this chaste love that begins on earth and that lasts all eternity; taste a little of this sweet peace that a holy and pure life gives, and then reflect on the miseries, the infidelities, the sorrows, the pains, the loss of fortune, of health, of honor, of the soul, on all the misfortunes finally that drench those who drink from the poisoned cup of profane love. Think above all of the eternal torments that await them in the other life. Come, my daughter, you so sweet and so charming, give all that you have in you of good and lovable to this God who was from all eternity your good master, and I promise you that you will be his beloved, and that he will be faithful to you in this life and in the other."

While he was speaking in such a touching manner, the nun wept, and when he had finished, she raised her eyes to heaven and declared loudly that she entrusted herself to his care; then, turning toward her companions, she said: "Farewell, my sisters, I detach myself from you and from the world, to consecrate myself until death to Jesus Christ, and to weep for my faults in solitude. Alas! how I have until now foolishly dissipated my days!"

Brother Henry directed her, and for several years, saw her advance with great strides in perfection. Long after, she fell ill, and the Saint undertook a journey to assist and console her. The road was long, and as he was overwhelmed with fatigue, his companion advised him to ask God to please send him the help of some mount. Let us implore his divine goodness, he replied while asking for this favor himself. As they were in prayer, they saw coming out of a forest, which was to their right, a horse without a master, all saddled, all bridled, and it approached Brother Henry as if to invite him to mount on its back. Brother Henry understood that it was a gift from heaven and accepted it; he arrived soon at the monastery where his ardent charity called him, and when he had dismounted, the horse disappeared without anyone being able to discover to whom it belonged.

It was not right that a director so skilled at leading souls to God should use this heavenly gift only outside his convent, nor that he should lack in his trials, the harshest of all for the humble, the burden of superior. The Fathers of the house where our Saint lived elected him prior; it was a burden all the more heavy as the religious had chosen him, not so that he might restore the rule, but so that he might sustain the house, which found itself overburdened with debts and needs. Brother Henry accepted this dignity while groaning, and declared in the first Chapter that, for temporal matters, he would do nothing other than entrust himself to the holy father Dominic, since in dying he had promised to assist his religious; he ordered prayers for the house and that the office of the glorious founder be sung the following morning. The religious murmured at his confidence; but the next day, while the mass was being sung and the prior was still in the choir, a canon who was his friend had him called and gave him a large sum of money, telling him that God had ordered him during the night to help him, and that, to obey, he was bringing him money and would bring him more, because he knew the poverty of the house and its lack of experience in temporal affairs. Thus the Blessed one, from the very first days of his office, provided the house with grain and wine for the whole year, and the religious were confounded.

He continued throughout the time of his office to endure a thousand sufferings and to be assisted by heaven in proportion. Our Lord wished to teach him, in the school of afflictions, to console the afflicted who flocked from all parts toward him, sometimes sent by their patron saints or their guardian angels.

The miracles that God worked through him, and the surprising effects of his preachings, would fill an entire book, and his Order did not record them, perhaps because his entire life was one great wonder. Preaching one day in Cologne, his face be came th Cologne Archiepiscopal see and burial place of the saint. ree times resplendent like the sun, and all the people who saw this light were struck with astonishment. He arrived one day at an inn where wine was lacking; they had given him a little out of charity; he blessed it and multiplied it so much that twenty people who were with him took as much as they wanted. The long journeys he made, most often on foot, the number and gravity of the pains he endured, brought him twice to the point of death, and twice Jesus Christ and his guardian angel, whom he invoked, revived him and healed him in an instant. Finally, he restored health to a crowd of the sick, for everything he asked of Jesus Christ was granted to him.

After having, for many long years, holily labored in the service of God and the Church, after having shed torrents of tears while continually meditating on the Passion and death of Jesus Christ, after having addressed to His divine majesty the impulses of the purest love, after having been the lover of eternal Wisdom, and having submitted himself to solitude, fasts, hairshirts, chains, ice, nails, and crosses; after having been pursued by a thousand exterior and interior temptations, defamed by everyone, despised, insulted, outraged by strangers and by his own, tested by God in a thousand ways and crucified with Jesus Christ, Brother Henry, satiated with life and burning with desires for heaven, ended his career amidst universal regret, and died in the convent of Ulm in Germany, rich in graces, arme couvent d'Ulm Birthplace of the blessed in Germany. d with the sacraments of the Church, and his eyes raised to heaven. He passed from this mortal life to the glory of paradise on January 25, 1365. His body was buried in the church of his convent, before the altar of Saint Peter, martyr, and God attested by numerous miracles to the glory and felicity of His servant. His Order presented him to the Sovereign Pontiff at the same time as Saint Thomas, so that his name might be inscribed in the Catalogue of Saints.

In 1613, workers laboring in the former Dominican cloister in Ulm discovered his body, perfectly preserved and emitting a sweet odor. The Protestant magistrates of the city had the tomb closed again, and its trace was lost.

The feast of our Blessed one is celebrated on March 2 in the Order of Saint Dominic, with the approval of Gregory XVI, given on April 16, 1831.

It is remembered that Blessed Henry embroidered, so to speak, with the help of a sharp instrument, the name of Jesus on his own flesh: thus he is represented with this divine name on his chest.

## WRITINGS OF BLESSED HENRY SUSO.

His eminent piety, his vast learning, and his assiduous study of the ways of God in souls made him one of the most skilled masters in mystical theology, in preaching, and in the art of bringing back the most wayward souls.

We possess several precious works by Blessed Henry Suso. The principal one, which in the Middle Ages was as widespread, it is said, as the *Imitation of Jesus Christ* is in our day, is the book of Eternal Wisdom, formerly called *Horologium Sapientia e aeternae*. It is a deligh Horologium Sapientia æterna Major work of mystical theology written by Henry Suso. tful collection of admirable teachings on the various phases of the spiritual life.

We also possess his *Treatise on the Union of the Soul with God*, also very remarkable for the unction and clarity with which he presents the most sublime truths of religion.

*The Colloquy of the Nine Rocks*, in an allegorical form very difficult to grasp, some *Spiritual Discourses*, some *Letters* which are very interesting and written with an unction and tenderness of soul that delight the reader; finally, pamphlets containing *Meditations on the three hours of the agony of Jesus Christ on the cross*: a *Soliloquy on the mercy of the Virgin Mary, and on the sorrows of Jesus and Mary*; a *Spiritual Exercise of Eternal Wisdom*; *Sentences drawn from the holy Fathers, and the Office of Eternal Wisdom*. These various pamphlets fall entirely into the genre of office or prayer books.

HENRY Suso had a pious familiarity with one of his spiritual daughters, named Elizabeth: he would naively recount to her, to encourage her, his own life, the trials an Elizabeth Spiritual daughter of Suso who recorded his confidences. d graces that God sent him; this holy friend wrote down the confidences of our Blessed one; the *Bollandists* included them in the *Acta Sanctorum*; finally, they were translated with the works of Henry Suso by Messrs. Cartier and Chavin de Malan. It is u Acta Sanctorum Monumental hagiographic collection by the Bollandists. pon this that we have composed this account.

Thirty years ago, Mr. Pustet of Regensburg published: *The Life and Writings of Henry Suso, surnamed Amundus*. In this book, Blessed Suso recounts his own life, and his style, full of charm and unction, resembles a sweet song.

L. M. Abbé Grimes, *Esprit des Saints*.