The Secret of the
Curé de Ar
Compiled, Partially Adapted, and Arranged
by Pauly Fongemie

SOURCES USED:
Secrets of the Saints, Henri Ghéon, 1944;
From the Housetops Magazine, Vol. XXIV, No. 3, Serial No 53;
The Life of the Curé de Ars, Abbé Alfred Monnin, 1861;
and Eucharistic Meditations, Curé de Ars, Eccles. Appr. 1923

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THE SPECIAL PRODIGIES
AND GRACES OF THE SAINT

HIS LOVE FOR THE POOR MIRACULOUS SUPPLIES HIS MORTIFICATION HEAVEN AND HELL This entire sub-section is an extract from Monin. HIS LOVE FOR THE POOR Next to sinners, those nearest to the heart of M. Vianney were the poor. He loved them as the favourite and chosen representatives of our Lord. Not content with relieving the multitudes who came to seek him, he sought for those who shrank from making their wants known; and it was generally believed that he supported a number of families, who had fallen from better circumstances into indigence, in Lyons and the neighbourhood. Once, on being refused payment by a person to whom he had lent a sum of money, he said quietly: "He thinks that I have no need of money; yet St. Martin's day is near at hand, and I have the rent of thirty families to pay." "We should never repulse the poor," he used to say. "If we cannot give them any thing, let us pray the good God to inspire some one else to do so. Some say, 'They will make a bad use of what I give them.' Let them make what use of it they will; they will have to answer for the use they make of your alms, and you will have to answer for giving or not giving it." MIRACULOUS SUPPLIES To satisfy the demands of his insatiable liberality, the holy man would sell every thing he possessed, even to his clothes. The old ones fetched a high price, as having belonged him; and when he had nothing new to dispose of, he would sell old shoes, cassocks, surplices. If any thing new were given to him, especially if of a better material than ordinary, it always went first. According to Catherine, if some one else had not taken charge of his wardrobe, he would soon have left himself without a change of linen. M. Monnin observes, that "wealth has received this singular property from God, that division multiplies instead of diminishing it; and when it is cast from the right hand it falls into the left. Thus the ocean receives all the waters of the earth, because it returns them all to heaven. The heart and the hands of the Curé of Ars were like the ocean. This poor priest, so poor that he used to say he had nothing of his own but his poor sins, enriched all the world around him by his bounty. Gold and silver flowed into his hands from France, Belgium, England, and Germany, by a thousand imperceptible channels. He had but to wish it to obtain immediately the sum necessary for a foundation or a work of charity. He often received considerable sums without ever being able to discover the source whence they were derived. "Sometimes, though very rarely, it seemed as if the fountain were dried up. Then M. Vianney set to work to torment his good Saints, till the mysterious stream began once more to flow. He found money which he had never reckoned upon in his pockets, on his table, in his drawers, and even among the ashes of his hearth." "When he wanted," says Catherine, "to establish a foundation in his church in honour of the Heart of Mary, he addressed this prayer to her: 'Oh, my Mother, if this work is pleasing to thee, send me the means to establish it.' On the same day, after Catechism, he said to us, 'I have found 200 francs in my drawer. Oh, how good God is!' " 'Well,' said Jeanne Marie Chaney, 'since this is miraculous money, we must keep some of it. Who knows? Perhaps it may bring more.' " 'Yes,' replied M. le Curé, 'this is celestial money.' "Jeanne Marie, in fact, took four of these five-franc pieces in exchange for others. She was sorry afterwards that she had not taken the whole sum." Again: "On the 19th October 1889, M. le Curé said to us, 'A strange thing happened to me yesterday. I laughed at it all by myself. I perceived that my purse had been growing, growing. I looked into it, and found a handful of crowns and a double Louis d'or.' " 'Some one had given them to you, M. le Curé.' " 'I don't know, but I think not. My bureau is locked, and the key was there in my table-drawer. Besides, this is not the first time such things have happened. I found a cask of wine in my cellar. It was not brought there by me, nor by my order. The poorer we make ourselves for the love of God, the richer we are in reality.' " M. Vianney had set the children of the Providence to make a novena for an important object. In the course of the novena he met M. Tailhades, a priest who was staying with him at the time, and said to him, "I am in great perplexity. I owe three thousand francs. Ah, we ought to take great care not to get into debt." "Be at peace, M. le Curé," said his friend. " The good God will settle it all for you." In the evening they met again after the Catechism, and exchanged a few words. M. Vianney said, "I am going to count my money." A few moments afterwards he returned, saying joyfully, "Well, we have found money---plenty of money; I have been really loaded with it this morning. My pockets were quite weighed down, so that I was obliged to hold them up with both my hands. I was ashamed and afraid to be seen." "You see plainly, M. le Curé, that our Lord wills you to remain here, since He works miracles in your aid." "Oh, what our Lord does here, He can do quite as well elsewhere. When St. Vincent of Paul went right and left making his foundations, Divine Providence followed him everywhere." "But, after all, M. le Curé, where did you find this money?" "I found it somewhere. See here, again; a lady gave me this handful of crowns." "M. le Curé, please to teach me how to work these miracles." Instead of making a direct reply, M. Vianney said very seriously, "My friend, there is nothing which more disconcerts the devil, and more powerfully attracts graces and favours from God, than fasting and vigils. When I was alone, and could do as I would on this point, I obtained every thing which I desired. Now," added he, with tears, "I cannot do the like. If I remain so long without food, I lose all my strength, and am unable to speak." The next day he came again to M. Tailhades with a very bright countenance. "I have found some more money. I said yesterday to the Blessed Virgin, 'My most holy Mother, if devotion to your Immaculate Conception is pleasing to you, get me some money to enrich the foundation which I propose to make in honour of your Immaculate Heart.' This morning I repeated my prayer; but I added, 'You must find me two hundred francs this evening. If the money comes later, it will not be for you.' And here is a person who has just brought me three hundred francs. I said to him, 'Oh, no, this would be too much; but I will thankfully accept two hundred.' " "One day," says M. Monnin, "in the visit which he paid us after dinner, the Abbé Toccanier and I observed that he looked much brighter than usual. " 'M. le Curé,' said I, 'you look quite radiant today.' " 'I believe so, my friend. I have, at any rate, reason to be content. I have discovered this morning that I have wealth to the amount of two hundred thousand francs. And what is better still, this capital is placed out at enormous interest on the most secure bank in the universe. I have lent it to the three richest Persons I could meet with.' "   HIS MORTIFICATION His mortification ... extended to his whole being; heart, mind, and senses were all alike brought under its dominion. "In this path," he used to say, "the first step is everything. Mortification has a sweetness which, when we have once tasted it, we can never bear to be without. We feel that we must drain the cup to the dregs. There is but one way of giving ourselves to God in the way of self-renunciation and sacrifice, and that is, to give ourselves wholly, without keeping any thing back. The little we try to keep is good for nothing but to embarrass us, and afford food for suffering." Of the austerity of his fasting, and the severity of his bodily sufferings, both from ill-health and by the direct infliction of the spirits of darkness, we have already had ample evidence. To these he added other severe corporal penances,---iron chains, heavy and sharp disciplines, and, perhaps more afflictive still, the perpetual self-restraint by which he closed every avenue to the most innocent enjoyment of the senses, and refused to avail himself of the most ordinary alleviations of pain and discomfort. He had imposed, as a rule, upon himself never to smell a flower, never to drink when parched with thirst, never to brush off a fly, never to appear to be conscious of an unpleasant smell, never to express disgust at any repulsive sight, never to complain of anything whatever which affected him personally, never to sit down, never to lean against any thing when kneeling. He had a great shrinking from cold, but would never take any means to preserve himself from it. He told the Abbé Tailhades that once, during a severe winter, both his feet froze. "When I leave the confessional," said he, "I am obliged to look for my legs, and touch them, to find out whether I have got any. I cannot stand; and, to leave the church, I have to drag myself along by the chairs and benches. Well, well! in Heaven we shall be well repaid; we shall think no more of all this." Another day, when, from acute pain, he could hardly get up-stairs, M. Tailhades offered him his arm. "Oh no," said he, "I have often mounted these stairs before. What shall I do when I am alone?" "Perhaps," said his companion, "you have only got what you have asked for?" He replied, "It may be so. Some years ago I said to our Lord: 'Only grant me the conversion of my parish, and I consent to suffer whatever Thou wilt for the remainder of my life.' " Neither look nor tone ever betrayed what he was enduring. He would go on conversing with his usual cheerfulness, till, overcome by intense pain, he suddenly sank down upon a chair, and, when anxiously questioned by his friends, would reply, with a sweet smile, "Yes, I am suffering a little."   At the time when he was undergoing the severe persecution which we have described in the earlier period of his ministry at Ars, he was on the point of addressing a letter to his Bishop, which would have freed him from much of his trouble, and prevented its recurrence; when, however, the letter was brought to him to sign, he tore it, saying, "Today is Friday, the day on which our Lord bore His Cross. It is fitting that I should bear mine. Today the chalice of humiliation is less bitter." M. Monnin tells us that the holy cure often said that his character was naturally exceedingly impetuous, and that to overcome it he had been obliged to use great violence with himself. "And yet," adds he, "we have seen him pressed, stifled, overborne by the crowd without evincing on his countenance the slightest shade of annoyance. We have seen him at the moment when the throng around his confessional was greatest leave it three times successively to give Holy Communion to three different persons, who could just as easily have come all together; and this without showing the slightest sign of impatience, or even making an observation. We have seen him more than annoyed, harassed every hour of the day by the same person, who wanted to get out of him something which he did not think fit to grant. She showed an obstinacy totally wanting in tact or delicacy, and therefore extremely irritating. M. le Curé did not give way to her in the least degree, but, with a gentleness equal to his firmness, received her each time that she approached him as if it had been the first." These traits of great self-mastery in little things bring vividly before us that great pattern for daily imitation, the meekest yet most majestic of spirits, St. Francis of Sales.   The following instructions on the mortification of the will have a sound too of Annecy: "We have nothing of our own but our will. It is the only thing which God has so placed in our own power that we can make ail offering of it to Him. Thus we may be assured that a single act of renunciation of the will is more pleasing to God than a fast of thirty days.   "As often as we can renounce our own will, to do the will of another, so it be not against the law of God, we acquire great merits, which are known to God alone. What is it which renders the religious life so meritorious? the unremitting renunciation of the will; the continual death of that which is most alive within us...." HEAVEN AND HELL St. Jean-Marie Vianney: "We are great, and we are nothing. There is nothing greater than man, and nothing less. Nothing greater, as regards his soul; nothing less, as regards his body. We take such care of our body, as if we had nothing else to care for; whereas, on the contrary, it is the only thing we ought to despise. "We are God's work. A man always loves his own work. It is easy to understand that we are God's work; but that the crucifixion of God should be our work, is incomprehensible. "Some people suppose that God the Father has a hard heart. Oh, how do they deceive themselves! The Eternal Father, to disarm His Own justice, has given a heart of exceeding tenderness to His Son. No one can give to another that which he possesses not himself. Our Lord has said to His Father, 'Father, punish them not.' "Our Lord has suffered more than was necessary to redeem us. But what would have satisfied the justice of His Father would not have satisfied His Own love. Without the death of our Lord, all the race of men put together they could not have made satisfaction for the smallest untruth. "In the world Heaven and Hell are kept out of sight: Heaven, because if men could but see its beauty they would hasten thither at whatever cost, and leave the world to itself; and Hell, because if they knew the torments to be endured there, they would neglect no means to escape them. "The Sign of the Cross is formidable to the devil, because by it we escape his power. We should make the Sign of the Cross with great reverence. We begin by the head, signifying the Chief, the Creator,---the Father; then the heart, love, life, redemption,---the Son; the shoulders, strength,---the Holy Spirit. All things remind us of the Cross. We ourselves are made in the form of the Cross. "In Heaven we shall be nourished by the breath of God. The good God will place us as an architect places the stones in a building,---each in the place fitted for it. "Heaven melts into the souls of the Saints. They bathe and drown themselves in its overflowing waters. As the disciples on Tabor saw Jesus only, so interior souls see our Lord alone in the Tabor of their heart. They are two friends who never grow tired of each other. "There are some who have lost faith, and never see Hell till they enter it. "The damned shall be enveloped in the wrath of God, as the fish in the water.   "It is not God Who damns us, but we damn ourselves by our sins. The damned do not accuse God, they accuse themselves; they say, I have lost God, my soul, and Heaven by my fault.   "No one has ever been damned for having committed too much evil to be forgiven; but many are in Hell for one mortal sin of which they would not repent.   "If a lost soul could but once say, 'My God, I love Thee,' it would be no longer in Hell. But alas for that poor soul! it has lost the power to love, which it had received, and which it refused to use. Its heart is dried up, like a bunch of grapes which has passed through the wine-press. There is no more happiness in that soul, no more peace, because no more love. " 'Unhappy souls,' said St. Teresa, 'they do not love.'   "The goodness of God kindles the fire of Hell. The lost will say, 'Oh, if God had loved us less, we should suffer less! Hell would be endurable. But to have been so much loved! What anguish!' "The friends of a dying man asked him what inscription they should place upon his tomb. ' Write this: Here lies a madman, who went out of this world without knowing how he came into it.' There are many who leave this world without knowing or caring why they came into it. Let not us do like them. "If the poor lost souls had the time which we waste, what good use would they make of it! If they had but one half-hour given them, that half-hour would unpeople Hell. "When we die, we make restitution; we give back to the earth what we received from it. A little morsel of dust about the size of a nut: this is what we shall become. We have much indeed to be proud of!   "We must labour in this world, we must suffer and struggle. We shall have all eternity to rest in.   "If we rightly understood our happiness, we should almost say that we are happier than the Saints in Heaven. They live on their earnings, they can gain no more; while we can add something each moment to our treasure. "The grace of God helps us to walk, and sustains us. It is as necessary to us as crutches to the lame. "When we go to Confession, we must fully understand what we are going to do. We are going to take our Lord down from the Cross. When you have made a good Confession, you have chained up the devil.   "The sins which we hide will all appear again. If we want to hide them well, we must confess them well. "Our faults are like a grain of sand by the side of the great mountain of God's mercy. "I know no one so much to be pitied as these poor people of the world; they have a mantle lined with thorns upon their shoulders, they cannot move without pricking themselves; while good Christians wear a cloak lined with rabbit-skins. "The good Christian cares nothing for the goods of this world. He escapes from them as a rat from the water. "Unhappily we do not keep our hearts sufficiently pure and free from all earthly affections. Take a sponge which is very dry and very clean; plunge it into water, and it will be filled to overflowing; but if it is not dry and clean, it will absorb nothing. And so, when the heart is not free and disengaged from the things of earth, try as we may to plunge it in prayer, it will absorb nothing. "When we give ourselves up to our passions, we twine thorns around our heart.   " We are like moles of a week old: no sooner do we see the light, than we bury ourselves in the ground. "The devil keeps us amused till our last moment, as a poor man is kept amused while the soldiers are coming to take him. When they come, he cries and struggles in vain; they seize him for all his resistance. "When men die, they are often like a bar of iron all covered with rust, which must be put into the fire. "Poor sinners are frozen like snakes in winter. "The slanderer is like the caterpillar, which leaves its slime upon the flowers. "What would you say of a man who should cultivate his neighbour's field, and leave his own untilled? This is just what you do. You are continually turning up your neighbour's conscience, and leaving your own fallow. Oh, when death comes, how much shall we repent of having thought so much of others and so little of ourselves; for it is of ourselves, and not of others, that we shall have to render an account! Let us think of ourselves, of our conscience, which we should look at continually, as we look at our hands to see if they are clean. "We have always two secretaries: the devil, who writes down our bad actions to accuse us; and our good Angel, who writes down our good actions to justify us at the day of judgment. When all our actions shall be presented to us, how few will there be, even among the best of them, really pleasing to God! So many imperfections, so many thoughts of self-love, of human satisfaction, of sensual pleasure, of selfishness, will be found mixed with them! They have a fair appearance; but it is only an appearance: like those fruits which look ripe and mellow because the worm has touched them."

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