WE have just seen how immoderation
in the use of words is expiated in Purgatory. Father P. Rossignoli speaks of a
Dominican Religious who incurred the chastisements of Divine Justice for a like
defect. This Religious, a preacher full of zeal, a glory to his Order, appeared
after his death to one of his brethren at Cologne. He was clad in magnificent
robes, wearing a crown of gold upon his head, but his tongue was fearfully
tormented. These ornaments represented the recompense of his zeal for souls and
his perfect exactitude in all the points of his Rule. Nevertheless, his tongue
was tortured because he had not been sufficiently guarded in his words, and his
language was not always becoming the sacred lips of a priest and a Religious.
The following instance is
drawn from Cesarius. In a monastery of the Order of Citeaux, says this author,
lived two young Religious, named Gertrude and her sister Margaret. The former,
although otherwise virtuous, did not sufficiently watch over her tongue; she
frequently allowed herself to transgress the rule of silence prescribed, some times
even in choir, before and after the chanting of the Office. Instead of recollecting
herself with the reverence due to that holy place, she addressed useless words
to her sister, who was placed next to her, so that, besides her violation of
the rule of silence and her lack of piety, she was a subject of dis edification to her companion.
She died whilst still young, and
a very short time after her death, Sister Margaret, on going to Office, saw her
come and place herself in the same stall she had occupied whilst living. At
this sight the sister was almost about to faint. When she had sufficiently
recovered from her astonishment, she went and told the Superior what she had
just seen. The Superior told her not to be troubled, but, should the deceased
appear again, to ask her, in the name of God, why she came. She reappeared the
next day in the same way, and, according to the order of the Prioress, Margaret
said to her, my dear Sister Gertrude, whence do you come, and what do you want?
I come, she said, to satisfy the Justice of God in this place where I have
sinned. It was here, in this holy sanctuary, that I offended God by words, both
useless and contrary to religious respect, by dis edification to all, and by
the scandal which I have given to you in particular. Oh, if you knew,” she
added, what suffer! I am devoured by flames; my tongue especially is dreadfully
tormented. “She then disappeared, after having asked for prayers.
When St. Hugh, who succeeded
St. Odilo in 1049, governed the fervent monastery of Cluny, one of his Religious,
who had been careless in the observance of the rule of silence, having died,
appeared to the holy Abbot to beg the assistance of his prayers. His mouth was
filled with frightful ulcers, in punishment, he said, for idle words. Hugh
imposed seven days of silence upon his community. They were passed in recollection
and prayer. Then the deceased reappeared, freed from his ulcers, his
countenance radiant, and testifying his gratitude for the charitable succor he
had received from his brethren. If such is the chastisement of idle words, what
will be that of words more culpable?