<h1 align="center"><SPAN name="IV">C</SPAN>HAPTER IV.</h1>
<h2 align="center">PILGRIMAGES TO ARS.</h2>
<p><font size="+3">N</font>OT only to the villagers, but in a greater
degree to the pilgrims who journeyed to Ars, Father Vianney's
departure would have been particularly disappointing. As early as the
period between 1825 and 1830, these remarkable pilgrimages had taken
place. So great was the multitude of people who kept coming that
increased traveling accomodations had to be arranged between Ars and
the outlying country places.</p>
<p>The pilgrims arrived from every province of France; others came
from Belgium and England; some from America. At Ars one met bishops
and cardinals, prefects of state, university professors, rich
merchants, bankers, men and women of ancient and noble lineage, side
by side with an innumerable army of priests and religious. As yet the
newspapers had not published any account of the wonders accomplished
there. Only by word of mouth was the fame of the curé made known, and
this unending procession of pilgrims was merely the result of the
personal experience of those who had already come under Father
Vianney's influence.</p>
<p>With ever increasing wonder the new arrivals observed the great
power which that humble priest exercised over souls. Every day in the
aisle of the church two rows of men, numbering from sixty to a
hundred, awaited their turn to go to confession in the little
sacristy. If the question were put as to how long they had been
waiting there the answer sometimes was: "since two o'clock in the
morning," or, "since midnight, as soon as the curé had opened the
church." The stranger would learn with astonishment that men from the
highest walks of life had frequently waited patiently a whole day and
night, not in order to assist at some great ceremony, but to submit
themselves humbly to the guidance of the curé in the matter of the
welfare of their souls.</p>
<p>The church was equally crowded elsewhere, and it was no unusual
thing to find two hundred women or more waiting their turn to confess
their sins. The spectacle of those men and women absorbed in prayer
continued from hour to hour and from day to day. As a rule Father
Vianney heard confessions daily for sixteen and even eighteen hours
and this almost superhuman practice continued for a period of thirty
years.</p>
<p>At seven or eight o'clock in the morning the curé said Mass and
gave Holy Communion. After Mass he blessed the articles of devotion
presented to him at the altar rail, as well as the little children
that were brought to him. At eleven o'clock he moved through the
crowded ranks of those present and, ascending the pulpit, he delivered
a plain but impressive sermon on the truths of holy faith. He who
formerly could preach a sermon only under the greatest difficulty, now
manifested an imperturbable calm and assurance, for the Divine grace
so noticeably inspired his addresses that in many cases, according to
the evidence of the different pilgrims themselves, it so happened that
his words touched the very ones who, up to that time, had remained in
their sins, and, his affecting appeal to them to consider the awful
state of their souls, removed the last obstacle to their reconciling
themselves to God.</p>
<p>At first, indeed, Father Vianney was greatly distressed when
circumstances necessitated his preaching without special preparation;
yet, as in this he saw only the will of God, he abandoned himself with
complete resignation to the Divine plans, and thus became, although he
had no suspicion of it himself, a most eloquent apostle. In his
sermons he was accustomed to recall the scenes of his early life as a
farmer lad, and he employed the analogies and arguments drawn from
external nature and, according to his own statements, it was evident
that there was nothing in the visible world that had not reminded him
of God and of eternity. Besides these expressive comparisons, Father
Vianney's sermons frequently described incidents drawn from his
personal experience.</p>
<p>Thus, one day, speaking of lukewarm Christians, he said: "You there
behold a tepid soul, which for the most paltry excuse starts to gossip
while praying. Does this soul really offer to God the day's work? Does
it return Him thanks and glorify Him? Without doubt the lips will
speak the words, but for the most part no thought is given to what is
said. The soul never ceases to busy itself with the things that are
only of this world."</p>
<p>"Again," said he, "we notice a man in church, turning his hat round
and round in his hand. Or, we observe in her home a woman, who said
grace while cutting bread for the children or while putting wood on
the fire, or she interrupts her prayers to call the help."</p>
<p>As a man of the people, Father Vianney knew that in order to hold
their attention nothing was so serviceable as to give them a faithful
portrayal of every day life. In his discourses he always reverted to
the fundamental truths of faith and placed vividly before his auditors
for their consideration, the four last things. Ever and anon he would
return to the necessity of man's loving God; that this love ought to
be as natural to men as song was to the bird. It was impossible for
him to preach without referring to the unspeakable joys which arise in
the soul of man through a self-sacrificing love of God.</p>
<p>As soon as the sermon was at an end the people hastened to the
village green, where the good curé was accustomed to pass on the way
to the "Providence" and to his home, delaying on the way to give
advice and consolation to those who applied to him. Everyone called
him "Father," a title readily admitted by all who observed his kindly
manner and still, kinder speech. Father Vianney moved, slowly through
the surging throng and, although he was gentleness itself, yet
unabashed and obtrusive persons were now and again brought to reason
by a quiet though firm answer.</p>
<p>Many an ingenious reply has been recorded of the good curé. A young
girl who, from spiritual laziness, had submitted the question of her
vocation to the good curé, asked him in a loud tone: "Father, what is
my vocation to be?" To which he replied: "My child, your vocation is
to get to heaven."</p>
<p>At a glance Father Vianney could recognize innocent souls. It was
often observed how he would say suddenly to certain individuals: "Dear
child, just go home; you have no need of me." Yet sixteen to eighteen
hours daily hardly sufficed to allow him to attend to the distressed
souls who knelt in his confessional, since for these above all God had
sent the curé of Ars.</p>
<p>Here we arrive naturally at the important subject of the
conversions that took place at Ars. Time and again the noble priest
would say: "Let us pray for the conversion of sinners!" He declared
that prayer for this purpose was one of the most pleasing that could
be offered to the good God. Without cessation he himself prayed with
this intention and took upon himself all kinds of mortification. His
petitions ascended to the throne of God, who, during the thirty years
of the curé's life at Ars, was pleased to send innumerable sinners to
Ars to be reconciled. Many of these sank at his feet already prepared,
for they had heard from others that it was sweet and easy to confess
one's sins to the saintly priest and under his guidance, to repent of
them with their whole heart.</p>
<p>On one occasion a driver knocked loudly at the door of the curé's
house at midnight and asked that his confession be heard at once.
Without hesitation, Father Vianney arose and went with him into the
church. After he had reconciled him to God Vianney embraced him
cordially and gave him some warm clothing, as he noticed the man was
suffering from the cold.</p>
<p>With many sinners the workings of grace were decidedly slower. Some
had come to Ars out of curiosity, others to unmask the curé, as they
thought to do, and to make merry over the "gullible crowd" as the
pilgrims were called. But, after closely observing the holy priest for
one or two days, they lost all desire to compare him to a "town
crier," and it was not long before they joined the crowds waiting for
confession.</p>
<p>With still another class it required a direct call of grace. Like
St. Vincent Ferrer, Father Vianney had received from God the gift of
being able to read clearly into the conscience of a sinner. Hence
almost every day it happened that one would see him come suddenly out
of the sacristy and advance straight towards a person who had only
just entered the church. With a kind and earnest look he would lead
him at once to his confessional. Many such penitents acknowledged
later that Father Vianney, without more ado, would mention their sins
to them beforehand, reminding them especially of those shameful
matters in their past life which they might have been tempted to
conceal. Thereby he not infrequently removed the last obstacle to
complete reconciliation with God.</p>
<p>Among others the following incident is well attested. A certain
man, thirty-two; years of age, went to Ars in company with a friend,
intending to ridicule Father Vianney. The man had with him his hunting
dog, having planned to enjoy the pleasures of the chase in the
neighboring fields. At the very moment when the curé was passing
across the village square and through the kneeling multitudes, the two
friends appeared on the scene. Presently Father Vianney found himself
face to face with the curious sportsman pushing through the crowd.
After a hasty glance at the dog running at his side, the curé, without
further ceremony, said to its owner: "Sir, it were to be desired that
your soul were as beautiful as your hound!" The man shamefacedly
lowered his head and, shortly after, moved by divine grace, made his
confession with copious tears and that same year adopted the life of a
religious, in which he persevered until death.</p>
<p>Upon another occasion, among the curious spectators in the church
at Ars was a highly educated freethinker, a mocker at religion, of the
Voltaire stamp. To please his wife he had accompanied her to Ars, in
order, as he expressed it, to have a look at "the old buffoon." With a
scornful air he surveyed the crowd praying devoutly in the little
church. Suddenly the curé stepped out of the confessional, advanced
towards the new arrival, and, with an imposing movement of the hand,
requested him to go into the sacristy.</p>
<p>Astonished and confused the unbeliever followed the priest. There
Father Vianney sought to bring him to his knees. The latter declared
that he had no idea of going to confession, and that he did not
believe in it. Father Vianney looked him squarely in the eyes, and
under that piercing glance the freethinker sank upon his knees. Then
Father Vianney described to him his past life, with surprising
accuracy and drew from him the admission that all he had told him was
true. The light of faith was forthwith rekindled in the soul of the
sinner, who, strongly affected, cried out with violent sobs: "My God,
I believe; I adore Thee; I love Thee; and beg of Thee
forgiveness!"</p>
<p>Father Vianney dismissed him with the words; "Dear friend, hold
yourself prepared; the good God will call you to Himself very soon!"
And so it was. Two years later a stroke of apoplexy brought to a
sudden end the convert's life.</p>
<p>Besides reconciling sinners with God the indefatigable curé was
frequently engaged in the important work of directing souls to the
knowledge and attainment of their vocation and in giving other counsel
valuable in their spiritual life. Seeking such advice there flocked to
Ars, from all parts, bishops and pastors, leaders of religious
communities, fathers and mothers of families, young men and young
girls in great numbers, all eager to obtain the advice of the good
priest. The latter gave his decisions promptly, for he never allowed
himself to forget that sinners were waiting for him at his
confessional. Many who thus applied declared that Father Vianney,
after listening to the first few words, was able to give his advice
upon the matter at issue with the fullest intelligence.</p>
<p>Upon one occasion a pastor in the diocese of Autun, presented to
the curé for his opinion a very difficult case in moral theology,
involving a question of restitution. He received from him such a
prompt answer, removing all doubt that, astounded, he asked the curé
where he had studied his theology? With a motion of the hand, which
conveyed an advice rather than an answer, Father Vianney pointed
silently to his prie-dieu.</p>
<p>We have referred to the great number of persons who applied to the
curé for advice concerning the religious vocation, but it would be a
mistake to suppose that the curé advised young persons
indiscriminately to embrace the priesthood or the monastic life. Such
was not the case; on the contrary the curé dissuaded many from
entering the cloister, although the parties themselves felt strongly
attracted to it. In this respect the story of Miss A. C. is
instructive.</p>
<p>That lady wished to enter a convent. Her father, who had large
property interests in the South of France, wanted her to marry a young
man who would become his successor. They agreed to ask Father
Vianney's advice and to follow it. This was in the year 1858, a few
months before the death of the blessed curé. Father Vianney listened
with his accustomed kindness to the young girl's recital, reflected a
moment and then exclaimed to the surprised young lady: "My dear child,
you ought to marry!" When she referred to her desire to enter a
convent, the curé interrupted her, and said again: "Get married, and
prove to all that your piety is genuine." Miss C. obeyed and, as the
wife of the young man who had asked her hand, was very happy.</p>
<p>At another time a pastor came to him saying that he desired to
become a Dominican. Father Vianney exclaimed: "No, my friend, this
desire is unfounded; stay where you are." The pastor suggested that as
a friar preacher he could be more successful. The blessed curé replied
immediately: "Where you are placed there is always more to do than you
can really accomplish!"</p>
<p>More than once the result shows how imprudent it was to disregard
the counsels of that enlightened man. A certain Felix B. from Coblone,
came to Ars on Sept. 8th, 1854, the feast of the Nativity of the
Blessed Virgin. As Father Vianney was passing through the throng,
which on that day was very great, he noticed the young man, and walked
straight towards him. Felix made known to him forthwith his desire of
entering a Trappist monastery. "Very well, dear friend," said Father
Vianney, "carry out your intention and God will bless you!"</p>
<p>When Felix returned home he felt so faint hearted at the thought of
entering an order of such strict observance that he postponed for two
years his plan of adopting the monastic life. At last, in 1856, as the
call to the life of a religious dominated him, he entered the
community of the "Christian Brothers."</p>
<p>But this did not bring him the happiness which he had anticipated.
He remained in this congregation for six years, all the while in a
state of unrest and discontent. The more he reflected upon his
condition the more vividly there stood before his spiritual gaze the
image of the curé of Ars (who, meanwhile, had died), and he recalled
the advice he had received but had not followed.</p>
<p>After a hard struggle with his own stubborn nature, Felix sought
release from the community to which he was attached and asked to be
permitted to enter a Trappist monastery which had recently been
founded in the arch-diocese. This was accordingly arranged. From that
day all unrest vanished and the Trappist monk found peace and
contentment in the life to which he had been advised by the curé of
Ars.</p>
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