The Transformation of Venerable Matt Talbot

We sincerely appreciate this article written by K. V. Turley and published by the National Catholic Register. (We have changed the title above.)

The Mystery of Venerable Matt Talbot

Posted by K.V. Turley on Sunday Jun 7th, 2020

Matt Talbot walked the streets of Dublin as a mystic soul and an ambassador for Christ.

https://www.ncregister.com/blog/kturley/the-mystery-of-venerable-matt-talbot

On June 7, 1925, an elderly poorly dressed man collapsed in Granby Lane, Dublin.

Subsequently, he was taken to Jervis Street Hospital where he was found to be dead. Although his identity was as yet unknown, a curious discovery was made: He was wearing heavy chains, some wrapped around his legs, others around his body. Mortuary staff puzzled over not just who he was but also the meaning of the chains. 

The man was eventually identified as Matt Talbot.
 
Born in 1856 into a large Catholic family living in semi-poverty in Dublin, Talbot left school, barely literate, aged just 11 years old, going to work full-time as an unskilled laborer. By his teenage years he was hopelessly addicted to alcohol. Although he had the reputation of being a hard worker, his work ethic was simply the means by which to finance his "hard-drinking."

It is perhaps fitting, therefore, that the next phase of his life began outside a pub. That summer’s day in 1884, he had no money. He hoped that one of his fellow drinkers would stand him a drink. As each acquaintance filed past him into the pub, no one offered to buy him anything. Something then occurred that was to change Matt Talbot forever. Humiliated by the indifference of his erstwhile friends, he turned and walked straight home. His mother was surprised to see him at that early hour, and even more surprised to see him sober. He proceeded to clean himself up before announcing he was going to a nearby seminary to ‘take the pledge’ – a promise to abstain from all alcohol. His mother was mystified by this – and fearful. She knew that pledges made to God were not something to be taken lightly. She counseled him against doing any such thing unless he was intent on persevering. He listened and left.

Talbot did take the pledge that day. He also went to Confession. These actions were to prove the hallmarks of a genuine conversion, one as sincere as it was needed. Nevertheless, the first step of conversion takes but a moment, the work of sanctification a lifetime: after years of drunkenness, still besetting him was a weakness of character and a working world centered on alcohol.

After his conversion, not much changed, outwardly at least: Talbot continued with his employment in the Dublin docks. He continued to work hard, now respected more than ever by his fellow workers and employers who noticed that he had started to give his wages to his mother rather than straight to a publican. Previously, when not working, he had spent his time in public houses, but now he turned his back on all that. He had been ‘born anew’, but like a newborn was vulnerable to the world he inhabited. With little to cling to, he turned inward, to the Spirit that seeks to dwell within each baptized soul. And, as he did so, he commenced upon an interior journey that few could have imagined possible.

From then on, along the Dublin streets there began to move a mystic soul. Each morning, at 5 a.m., Talbot knelt upon the stone pavement outside a city church waiting for the doors to open and for the first Mass to begin. After the Holy Sacrifice, he would pray for a time before going to one of the timber yards near the docks. There he labored all day just like the rest of his fellow workers; but there were periods in the day when lulls and breaks would occur. Whilst the other workers gossiped or smoked, Talbot chose to be alone, kneeling in prayer in a hidden part of a workshop until the call came to return to his labors.

Each evening, when work was finished, Talbot walked home with his fellow workers. They all knew their companion’s free time was spent praying in a city church before the Blessed Sacrament. Often he asked them to join him in making a visit to Our Blessed Lord. Some did. After a short while, however, they would leave, while Matt still knelt in the gathering twilight. Eventually, when at night he did return home, it was to yet more prayer – and mortification. His bed was a plank of wood, as was his pillow. Although respected by those among whom he lived and worked, and although he was not unfriendly, he had few visitors. Those who did encounter him felt he was not quite of this world. They were right; he was traveling ever inwards on a journey to freedom he could never have envisaged when trapped in a never-ending alcoholic stupor.

When his belongings were found after his death, what surprised many was the number of books he owned. Inquires soon revealed that he had slowly, but determinedly, taught himself to read and, as he did so, effectively begun a course of study that included the spiritual classics, the lives of saints, doctrinal books, and works of mystical and ascetical theology. When asked by a friend how he, a poor workman, could read the works of St. Augustine, John Henry Newman and others, his reply was as straightforward as it was telling. He said he asked the Holy Spirit to enlighten him. And so he grew in an intellectual understanding of his faith that, in turn, deepened the prayer and penance he undertook.

His life ran alongside momentous events in Irish history. It was a time of cultural renaissance and nationalist fervor, of a Great Strike in 1913 and of open revolution in 1916, of the Great War and a war for independence, yet throughout it all Talbot’s life remained largely unchanged. He knew all too well that kingdoms rise and kingdoms fall, but that he had set his face to serve a different Kingdom, one shown him in 1884 when he confessed all and cast himself into the hands of the Living God.

Talbot never married; held no position of note, was unknown outside his small circle of family and friends — only one blurred photograph has survived him — and, yet, this was a rare man: one who had taken the Gospel at its word and lived it.

By 1925, Talbot was 69. He had been in poor health for some time. Out of necessity, he tried to continue working as there was only limited relief for the poor and elderly, but his strength was failing. However, even then, he persisted in his prayer and penance. On June 7, 1925, whilst struggling down a Dublin alleyway on his way to Mass, he fell. A small crowd gathered around him. A Dominican priest was called from the nearby church, the one to which Talbot had been hurrying. The priest came and knelt over the fallen man. Realizing what had happened, the priest raised his hand in a last blessing for a final journey.

Talbot died on Trinity Sunday; he was buried on the feast of Corpus Christi.

In 1975, Pope Paul VI bestowed a new title upon this humble workman: Venerable. Now Talbot is a heavenly patron for all those with addictions, alcohol or otherwise.

Still to this day there is a large trunk in the safekeeping of the Archdiocese of Dublin. It contains the books owned by the now Venerable Matt Talbot. A veritable treasury of spiritual theology, one of the books contained therein is True Devotion to Mary by St. Louis de Montfort. In its pages, de Montfort reflects on the choice of being a slave to this world or of the Blessed Virgin. For those that choose the latter path, it recommends, after due recourse to a spiritual director and suitable enrolment, that a chain be worn to symbolize that that soul no longer belongs to the powers of darkness but is instead now a child of the light.


On that June day in 1925 when Matt Talbot fell upon a Dublin street, his chains were those denoting nothing less than a slave to Mary and an ambassador for Christ.

Venerable Matt Talbot Gives Hope for Recovery From Addiction

The author of this article was instrumental in taking the “Matt Talbot Hope Book” to Matt Talbot’s Shrine in Dublin.

 

"From sot to saint: Matt Talbot gives hope for recovery from addiction"

By Gina Christian

Catholic News Service

August 27, 2018

http://www.catholicnews.com/services/englishnews/2018/from-sot-to-saint-matt-talbot-gives-hope-for-recovery-from-addiction.cfm

Reprinted https://www.thecompassnews.org/2018/08/from-sot-to-saint-matt-talbot-gives-hope-for-recovery-from-addiction/

 

A 19th-century Irish laborer and saint-in-the-making could be a new role model for those seeking freedom from addiction, according to a growing apostolate led by a Dublin priest.

 

At an Aug. 23 presentation during the World Meeting of Families, Father Brian Lawless described how Venerable Matt Talbot, once a hard-drinking warehouse hand, was transformed into a sober “urban mystic” through his Catholic faith.

More than 60 attendees listened as Father Lawless surveyed Talbot’s life as an obscure and impoverished worker in Dublin’s slums, which ranked among the worst in Europe at the time.

Talbot’s visibility grew Aug. 25 when Pope Francis made a special point of stopping at Our Lady of Lourdes Church to pray before some relics of Talbot.

Born in 1856, Talbot was the second-eldest of 10 children who survived out of 12. Largely uneducated, he began working at age 12 for a company that bottled Guinness beer. Talbot took to sampling the product, a common practice among the other child laborers. By age 16, he also started drinking whiskey, and he spent the next 12 years as an alcoholic.

“Every penny that he earned was used to buy alcohol,” said Father Lawless.

At age 28, Talbot had “a conversion experience,” something shared by many in addiction recovery who “come to a realization that something has to change,” Father Lawless said.

For Talbot, the breaking point came after a week of unemployment left him penniless and unable to buy a drink. Realizing that “his future looked as bleak as his past,” said Father Lawless, Talbot decided to “take the pledge” and commit to a three-month period of abstinence, a common practice encouraged by temperance movements of the day.

Yet Talbot quickly realized that sobriety was not a matter of having an iron will. Suffering from alcohol withdrawal a few days after abstaining, he went into a church and acknowledged in prayer that only God’s grace could sustain him.

“He emptied himself,” said Father Lawless, adding that addiction is an effort to fill “a hole in the soul” that can only be completed by God.

Talbot embraced the Catholic faith in which he had been raised, attending daily Mass and eventually finding a spiritual director. Barely literate, he learned to read and write so that he could explore the Scriptures, the lives of the saints and spiritual writings.

Having been introduced to Irish monasticism, Talbot adopted an austere lifestyle, remaining single while caring for his elderly mother and supporting numerous charities with any funds left over from his meager income. He spent hours in prayer and reflection, often seemingly in ecstasy.

Having read the works of St. Louis de Montfort, Talbot developed an intense devotion to Mary, even wearing chains around his wrist, hand and right knee.

In his talk, Father Lawless clarified that the fetters were not “a sign of penance, but of Talbot’s consecration to Our Lady,” and were in keeping with St. Louis’ recommendation to wear “little chains” as a sign of surrender to Mary.

Actual chains worn by Talbot, along with several relics, were displayed at an exhibit staffed by volunteers from his apostolate during the pastoral congress of the World Meeting of Families.

Although he spent his life in gritty, working-class conditions, Talbot cultivated a spirituality often associated with hermits or other contemplatives.

“He was able to have those same kind of experiences in his little flat,” said Father Lawless.

A secular Franciscan, Talbot died in 1925 while on the way to Mass, closing his eyes just as the church bells rang.

His cause for canonization began almost immediately. Pope Paul VI declared Talbot venerable in 1975, and Pope John Paul II expressed support for Talbot’s canonization, although he was unable to stop at the would-be saint’s shrine in Our Lady of Lourdes Church during a 1979 visit to Ireland.

Any miracles in support of Talbot’s canonization would have to be “medical in nature,” said Father Lawless, since recovery from addiction often involves relapses that would disqualify such healings from consideration.

Nevertheless, Talbot remains a powerful intercessor for those longing for liberation from alcohol and drugs.

Michael Murphy, an addictions counselor from Drogheda, Ireland, and an advocate for Talbot’s canonization, followed Father Lawless’ presentation with a talk on how the humble laborer had profoundly shaped Murphy’s own journey to sobriety.

A successful executive for a multinational company, Murphy entered an alcohol treatment program in 1996 after a three-day blackout. Married and with children, he had at one point contemplated suicide after a long battle with the bottle.

“I even had a loaded gun ready,” he said.

Before Murphy entered rehab, his wife Noeleen had given him a copy of St. Faustina’s diary with a Matt Talbot prayer card tucked inside. After buried memories of his father’s sudden death surfaced during treatment, he angrily threw his travel bag across the room, causing the prayer card to fall before him.

“I looked at it, and I said to Matt Talbot, ‘If you’re as good as you’re supposed to be, keep me here in this program,'” Murphy said.

Murphy stayed, and after completing treatment he began rebuilding his life, looking to Talbot as a model of “hope, light and forgiveness.”

“He taught me to pray, how to go to eucharistic adoration,” Murphy said.

Both Father Lawless and Murphy noted that Talbot’s spiritual approach to sobriety prefigured the 12-step approach to recovery later formulated by Alcoholics Anonymous.

“He was preaching the 12 steps 50 years before AA,” said Murphy.

Like her husband, Noeleen Murphy is fervent in her devotion to Matt Talbot, even writing and recording “In Your Presence, Lord,” a hymn in Talbot’s honor.

“Anybody who asks will receive from Matt Talbot,” she said. “He walked the walk; he was in addiction himself. He knows the pain and suffering. And he lived in Christ’s presence.”

300th Anniversary of the Death of St. Louis Marie de Montfort

Today is the 300th anniversary of the death of St. Louis Marie de Montfort (31 Jan 1673 - 28 Apr 1716), a saint whose writings were especially influential in the life of Matt Talbot. Reading his classic, True Devotion to Mary, is particularly helpful in our understanding of some of Matt’s spiritual practices.

Note: three informative references among many:

http://www.ncregister.com/blog/joseph-pronechen/on-his-300th-anniveresary-21-things-louis-de-montfort-said-about-the-r1

http://catholicexchange.com/rosary-advice-from-st-louis-de-montfort?mc_cid=8e5481149a&mc_eid=318db96c1c

http://www.montfort.org.uk/index.php

The Dublin Mystic: Matt Talbot

by K. V. Turley*

March 17, 2016

http://catholicexchange.com/the-dublin-mystic-matt-talbot

On 8 June 1925, the following news item appeared in the Irish Independent:

Unknown Man’s Death

An elderly man collapsed in Granby Lane [Dublin] yesterday, and being taken to Jervis Street Hospital he was found to be dead. He was wearing a tweed suit, but there was nothing to indicate who he was. 

What was not reported was the unusual discovery when he was taken to hospital. He was wearing heavy chains: some wrapped around his legs, others on his body. Mortuary staff puzzled over not just who he was but, also, the meaning of the chains.

The newspaper report had appeared on a Monday morning. Later that night, police ushered a woman into the mortuary. She identified the body as that of her brother: Matt Talbot. A nursing nun present asked about the chains. The dead man’s sister replied simply that it was something he wore, and with that, they were placed in the coffin and the lid closed.

That was not the whole story though; the chains were part of the mystery of the man who had died. They were as symbolic as they were real. The man’s life having been a ‘crossing over’ from the servitude of vice to the freedom of those in chains for Christ.

Talbot was born in 1856 into a large Catholic family living in semi-poverty in Dublin. His schooling was slight. He was barely literate when he went to work full-time aged just 11 years old. For the rest of his life his occupation was as an unskilled labourer. He was exposed to harsh working conditions, at times harsh bosses and to a social environment that necessitated some form of release from this – this was found by many in the city’s public houses. Matt was no different, so much so that by his teenage years he was hopelessly addicted to alcohol.

Matt had the reputation of being a hard worker. Increasingly, however, that work ethic was simply the means to finance his ‘hard drinking’. As it grips, vice of whatever sort is hard to counter, especially when the will to oppose it diminishes, so it was with Matt Talbot – what had began as an escape soon became a prison of moral and spiritual degradation. And, the more time he spent there the more Matt needed alcohol to shield him from that reality. Those around watched and, shaking their heads, concluded that Talbot was a lost cause. But they were to be proved wrong and in a most unexpected way.

Fittingly, the second phase of Matt’s life began outside a pub. That day he had no money, and, therefore, hoped that some of his drinking fraternity would stand him a drink. As each acquaintance filed past, none offered to buy him anything. On that summer’s day in 1884, something occurred that was to change Matt Talbot forever. Humiliated by the indifference of his erstwhile friends, he turned and walked straight home. His mother was surprised to see him – at that early hour, and sober. He proceeded to clean himself up before announcing he was going to a nearby seminary to ‘take the pledge’ – a promise to abstain from all alcohol. His mother was mystified by this and fearful. She knew that pledges made to God were not something to be taken lightly. She counselled him against doing any such thing unless he was intent on persevering. He listened, and then left.

Matt did take the pledge that day. He also went to Confession. It was as dramatic as it was decisive. It had all the hallmarks of a genuine conversion, one as sincere as it was needed. Nevertheless, a conversion takes but a moment, the work of sanctity a lifetime: after years of drunkenness, still arraigned against Matt was a weakness of character and a world that revolved around alcohol. It looked as if the odds were stacked against him, but this was not solely a human undertaking. Into this ‘land of captivity’, from ‘across the Jordan’, there came invisible armies to fight alongside this now embattled soul, one embarked upon a war of liberation. This was not a new spiritual combat, but rather one that had commenced many years previously when this poor man’s parents brought a child to a parish church and asked for baptism in the name of the Father, and the Son and the Holy Spirit.

After his conversion, not much changed, outwardly at least: Matt continued with his employment in the docks. He continued to work hard, now respected more than ever by his fellow workers and employers who noticed that he had started to give his wages to his mother rather than straight to a publican. Nevertheless, work alone cannot satisfy the human heart. Previously, when not working his life had been many hours spent in public houses, but, now, he had turned his back on that. He had been ‘born anew’, but like a newborn was vulnerable to the world he inhabited. With no material substance to cling to he turned inward, to the Spirit that dwells within each baptised soul. And, as he did so, he commenced upon an adventure that few could have imagined possible.

From then on, along the Dublin streets, there moved a mystic soul. Each morning at 5AM, dressed in workman’s clothes a man knelt outside a city church waiting for the doors to open and the first Mass to begin. After the Holy Sacrifice, he would pray for a time before going to one of the timber yards near the docks. There, he laboured all day; but there were periods in the day when lulls and breaks would occur. Whilst his fellow workers gossiped or smoked, Matt chose to be alone, knelt in prayer in a hidden part of a workshop until the call came to return to his labours.

***

Each evening, when work was finished, Matt walked home with his fellow workers. They knew their companion’s free time was spent praying in some city church before the Blessed Sacrament. Often he asked them to join him in making a visit to Our Blessed Lord. Some did. After a short while, however, they would leave with Matt still knelt in the gathering twilight. Eventually, when at night he did return home it was to yet more prayer – and mortification. His bed was a plank of wood, a piece of that same material his pillow. Although respected by those he lived amongst and worked alongside, and not unfriendly, he had few visitors. Those who did encounter him felt he was not quite of this world; they were right; he was travelling ever inwards on a mystical journey to a freedom he could never have dreamt of when trapped in an alcoholic stupor.

When his belongings were found after his death, one of the surprises was the number of books he owned. Inquires soon revealed that he had slowly, but determinedly, taught himself to read and, as he did so, effectively began a course of study that included the spiritual classics, the lives of Saints, doctrinal books, and works of mystical and ascetical theology. When asked how he, a poor workman, could read the works of St. Augustine, Newman et al, his reply was as straightforward as it was telling. He said he asked the Holy Spirit to enlighten him. And so, he grew in an intellectual understanding of his faith, which in turn deepened the prayer and penance he undertook. Here was a 20^th Century heir to the spiritual traditions of the ancient Irish monks, albeit one now living not on an island monastery but in the slums of Dublin, but, like those earlier contemplatives his life was work, study and prayer with eyes turned ever inward to the Holy Trinity.

Matt never married; held no position of note, was unknown outside his own small circle of family and friends – only one blurred photograph has survived him- and, yet, this was a rare man: one who had taken the Gospel at its word and lived it.

His lifetime ran alongside the then momentous events in Irish history. A time of cultural renaissance and nationalist fervour, of a Great Strike in 1913 and open revolution in 1916, of the Great War and a War for Independence, throughout it all his life remained largely unchanged. Matt knew all too well that kingdoms rise and kingdoms fall, but that he had set his face to serve a different Kingdom, one shown him in 1884 when he confessed all and cast himself into the hands of the Living God.

By 1925, Matt was 69. He had been in poor health for some time. Out of necessity he tried to continue working as there was only limited relief for the poor or elderly, but his strength was failing. Nevertheless, he persisted in his prayer and penance. On 7 June 1925, whilst struggling down a Dublin alleyway on his way to Mass, he fell. A small crowd gathered around him. A Dominican priest was called from the nearby church, the one where Matt had been hurrying. The priest came and knelt over the fallen man. Realising what had happened, he lifted his hand in a blessing for the final journey. Little did he realise the dead stranger lying in front of him had already been on that ‘journey’ for over 40 years.

Having lived in the intimacy of the Triune God, it was apt Matt died on Trinity Sunday. Having lived off the Eucharist daily for more than 40 years, it was equally fitting he was buried on the feast of Corpus Christi.

Decades later, a visiting Italian priest went privately to pray at the grave of the Dublin worker he had heard so much about. In 1975, and after the due process had been completed, that same cleric, now Pope Paul VI, bestowed a new title upon that Irish workman: Venerable Matt Talbot.

There is a large trunk in the safe keeping of the Archdiocese of Dublin. It contains the books owned by Venerable Matt Talbot. A veritable treasury of spiritual theology, one of the books contained therein is True Devotion to Mary by St. Louis de Montfort. In its pages it reflects on being a slave to this world or to the Blessed Virgin. For those that choose the latter path it recommends, after due recourse to a spiritual director and the suitable enrolment, that a chain be worn to symbolise that that soul no longer belongs to the powers of darkness but is now a child of the light. On that June day in 1925, when Matt Talbot fell upon a Dublin street, it was dressed as a slave to Mary and as an ambassador of Christ.

*K. V. Turley is a London based freelance writer and filmmaker with a degree in theology.

Relying on the Lord

Venerable Matt Talbot’s life illustrates that the Lord can break all involuntary chains, even the chains in our own minds which hold us back from true peace.*

Venerable Matt Talbot, pray for us that we may grow in the serenity, courage and wisdom which comes from God alone.





*Note:  The chains that Matt was wearing at the time of his death were symbolic of his great devotion to Mary and Jesus. Without those chains, which were inspired by St. Louis de Monfort, we would not know of Matt Talbot today.

Consecrate this Lent to Jesus through Mary

One of the most influential spiritual writers for Matt Talbot was St. Louis-Marie Grignion de Montfort, who recommended a particular method of consecrating oneself wholly and entirely to the Most Blessed Virgin Mary and, through Mary, to Jesus. The chains that were found on Matt’s body after his death were part of his consecration to Mary.”

For those who might want a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to consecrate this Lent to Jesus through Mary, clink:

http://newtheologicalmovement.blogspot.com/2012/02/consecrate-this-lent-to-jesus-through.html#uds-search-results

Montfortian links

For those who are interested in additional information about devotion to Mary from a Montfortian perspective, these links may be beneficial.

http://www.montfort.org.uk/links.htm provides a menu of references

http://www.montfort.org.uk/Writings/MontWork.html provides free online study of books by St. Lous Marie de Montfort

http://www.montfort.org.uk/footsteps/archive/9-1-Spring2004/td160.htm provides a different link to the Commentary on the Letter by Pope John Paul II and the letter itself that was posted earlier today.

http://www.montfort.org.uk/footsteps/archive/9-1-Spring2004/woman-cross.htm has a reflection on the Pope's letter, "The Woman at the Cross," by Fr. Mitchell, S.M.M.

Pope John Paul II, St. Louis de Montfort, and Matt Talbot

Not only were the writings of St. Louis de Montfort influential for Matt Talbot, Pope John Paul II noted their importance to him in his youth. This quote from Pope John Paul II may help those who are concerned that a devotion to Mary may compromise their worship of Christ.

As far as I am concerned, the reading of this book [True Devotion to the Blessed Virgin by de Montfort] was a great help to me in my youth: "I found the answer to my doubts," which were due to a fear that worship given to Mary "if developed too much, might end by compromising the primacy of the worship of Christ" (My Vocation, Gift and Mystery, pg. 42). Under the wise guidance of St. Louis Marie de Montfort, I understood that, if we live the mystery of Mary in Christ, there is no such risk. This saint's Mariological thought, in fact, "is rooted in the Mystery of the Trinity and in the truth of the Incarnation of the Word of God" (ibid.)." This quote is from the letter of Pope John Paul II referred to below ( text of this letter).

Commentary on the Letter of Pope John Paul II

SOURCE: http://www.montfort.org/English/news.htm

On 8 December 2003, Pope John Paul II wrote to the Religious of the Montfortian Congregations, a letter to commemorate the 160th anniversary of the publication in 1843 of the "Traité de la Vraie Dévotion à la Sainte Vierge" (True Devotion to the Blessed Virgin). In the letter he reflects on certain aspects of the teaching of St. Louis Marie de Montfort concerning consecration of oneself to Jesus through Mary. See the text of this letter.

St. Louis Marie Grignion de Montfort, all his life, practised and preached in his missions and retreats a form of devotion to Our Blessed Lady which he called "the most perfect devotion" to her, and which is often referred to as "the Holy Slavery". About Autumn 1712, he set down his teaching on this devotion in a book which has become, as Pope John Paul says in this letter, a classic of Marian spirituality: "True Devotion to the Blessed Virgin". After St Louis Marie's death in 1716, his followers in the Company of Mary continued to make this devotion a major part of their teaching and preaching, but, for some reason, they never thought to publish his book, although they possessed the manuscript. They did, however, value the manuscript sufficiently that, when the French Revolution brought chaos to the Vendée region where the Mother-house of the Company of Mary was, they hid it, along with other precious papers, in a field nearby. After the revolutionary fury had abated, they retrieved these papers and put them back in the library of the Mother-house, but then, it seems, forgot about them. It was only in 1842 that one of the members of the Company of Mary, doing some research in the library, came across the old manuscript and recognised the handwriting of St. Louis Marie. The manuscript was quickly authenticated, and in 1843 was published for the first time as "Traité de la Vraie Dévotion à la Sainte Vierge" (Treatise on True Devotion to the Blessed Virgin).

Some 20 years later, in 1862, Fr. Frederick William Faber, of the London Oratory, made the first English translation of the book and had it published in London. There have been a number of English editions published since that time, in the United States as well as in Gt. Britain. In 1883, Bishop Herbert Vaughan, at that time the Bishop of Salford in England, and the founder of the Mill Hill Missionaries, wrote a letter recommending St. Louis Marie's book to all the clergy of the diocese. When he was transferred to Westminster Archdiocese in 1892, he did the same for his clergy of that diocese.

St. Louis Marie's book has been an inspiration to many thousands of people throughout the 160 years since its first publication. Our present Holy Father has several times acknowledged its influence on him, as he does again in this letter. It is well known that Frank Duff, the founder of the Legion of Mary in the 1920s, made the "Holy Slavery" the basis of the Legion's spirituality. Others in the English-speaking world who have been deeply influenced by it include Matt Talbot, Mother Mary Potter (foundress of the Little Company of Mary), Eddie Doherty and Catherine de Hueck Doherty (these two the founders of the Madonna House apostolate based in Combermere, Ontario).

St. Louis Marie de Montfort and Matt Talbot

Today, April 28, is the feast day of St. Louis Marie de Montfort, whose writings had a significant influence on Matt Talbot during the last forty years of his life. The chains that were found on Matt's body after his death were part of his "Total Consecration to Mary," which was popularized by de Montford. Today, however, the wearing of a chain or medal reminding one of holy slavery to Mary is an optional practice.

Links for further reading:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louis_de_Montfort

one biography of St. Louis de Montfort's life

St. Louis de Montfort's works and articles about his spirituality.

Online texts of Louis de Montfort's works

Eddie Doherty, biographer of Matt Talbot (and St. Louis de Montfort)

Reference to Matt Talbot being influenced by the writings of St. Louis de Montfort has been noted in the previous post. One author that we will repeatedly refer to is Eddie Doherty, who has written an important biography of Matt Talbot as well as books on St. Louis de Montfort. The following information is from

http://www.madonnahouse.org/publications/eddie/index.html (JB)

"In his long career as an ace newspaper reporter, best-selling author, and Oscar-nominated screenwriter, Eddie Doherty has touched the hearts of thousands with his gifted reporter’s flair for words—and his lively and irresistable writing style seasoned with wit and humour. A father who suffered the tragic deaths of two wives, Eddie grew determined to help others grasp how even this world's harshest sorrows can be resplendent with Christ’s light. Having met Catherine de Hueck at her mission in Harlem, Eddie later married and co-founded the world-wide Madonna House Apostolate with her. In his later years, he was ordained a priest in the Melkite Greek Catholic Church. More information about Eddie’s life and works can be found on his Madonna House Founder web page."

Matt Talbot by Eddie Doherty

Fighting alcoholism, poverty, and the turmoil of Irish life at the turn of the century, Matt Talbot humbly leads us to the Mother of God. He may someday soon be declared one of Ireland's greatest saints.

Wisdom's Fool: A Biography of St. Louis de Montfort by Eddie Doherty

Saint Louis-Marie Grignion de Montfort: Priest, poet, founder of Religious Congregations, miracle worker, preacher of the Cross and prophet of the Reign of Christ through Mary.

Matt Talbot...From Dublin Drunk to Servant of God

In June the world celebrates Bloomsday, a day in the life of James Joyce's fictional character --Leopold Bloom, as he walks the back streets of Dublin. Some seem to know why, but most do it for the merriment--an exercise in self indulgence. Incredible as it may seem, in 1856, a man was born into those very same dirty Dublin streets who deserves more to be honored and revered than all the characters in Joyce's book; more than even Joyce himself. His name was Matthew Talbot. One of 12 children, he was reared in absolute poverty in north central Dublin at a time when there were no social services, and even water was fetched from public horse troughs. Semi-educated by the Christian Brothers who put him in a class for poor boys not likely to attend school for long, they were right for his schooling ended as soon as he found a job. A 12-year-old illiterate is lucky to find work at all, but young Matt took a job as a messenger for a wine and beer bottling company. He soon learned it was easy to help himself to a drink whenever he wanted, and by age 13, Matthew Talbot was a confirmed alcoholic!

He earned a reputation as a hard worker, and for the next 15 years went from dock worker to brick layer and through it all he never stopped drinking. Alcohol claimed most of his wages, and he resorted to stealing and pawning to support his addiction. Then in 1884, Matt stayed away from work for an entire week, drinking heavily. Penniless and in debt to the local pubs, he waited for his friends after work; surely they would buy him a drink as he had bought them many times before. But they didn't want to know him. He found himself physically, mentally, and spiritually bankrupt. He went home sober for the first time in years. He reflected on his life and concluded that it was out of control because of drink. He remembered his early religious teaching and a Pledge of Sobriety offered by the Temperance preacher, Father Theobold Matthew, some years before; he decided to attempt it for three months to regain control of his life. It was battle he was not ready for. The terrifying withdrawal symptoms of Alcoholism were not understood in those days, and Matt battled nausea, hallucination, and depression. Lost for a place to spend his non-working hours, he turned to the Church. It was the beginning of an intimacy that would last his entire life. He attended daily Mass and communion before work. When his parish changed its first Mass from 5:00A.M. to 6:30A.M., he quit his job and got a new one so that he could still start his day with a Mass. With great effort, he completed three months of sobriety. He immediately renewed the pledge for six more months, and then renewed it for life.

His willingness to work hard, assured him of work when there wasn't much around. His spare time was spent in church or religious reading. The heavy drinking of his father and brothers showed him side of drink he had never seen, and he left home to live alone in a one-room flat. When work and church were done for the day, Matt would retire to his room to read and pray. His sister Susan recalled that in his free time he was never off his knees. Though privately he was a very serious and penitent person, at work he was pleasant and outgoing. Co-workers remember him as a conscientious, strong, yet gentle man who smiled at everything except a dirty joke.

His work habits earned him above-average wages, which he gave away to his poor neighbors and to charities as far away as Father Drumgoole's Catholic Orphanage in New York. He kept only 50 pence a week for his needs were few. As history was being recorded around him, Matt Talbot prayed for his fellow man. During the violent Tramworkers Strike of 1913, he shared his wages with the families of the men on strike, and during the Easter rising of 1916, he made his way through the bombs, bullets and barricades to attend daily Mass.

In 1920, at the age of 67, he was hospitalized with a heart condition. Placed on light work through the intercession of friends, he continued to work, sharing his wages until June 7, 1925. While on his way to Mass, Matt Talbot suffered a massive heart attack and died on a Dublin street. At the hospital, while undressing his body, attendants fount a heavy chain wrapped around his waist, another around his arm, and yet another around his leg; he had worn them beneath his clothes as a constant reminder that he was a slave to Jesus and Mary. This remarkable discovery prompted an inquiry which disclosed his secret life of devotion, penance and charity. His room contained no more that the bare necessities of a monastic cell---an iron bedstead, a wooden mattress and pillow, covered with a half-blanket, a chair, a table and a crucifix. His meals consisted of dry bread and cold tea or cocoa taken three times a day, with some cold fish added for dinner, he spent his leisure time in prayer and study. Had he died at home, he probably would have remained unknown. Instead, the one-time hard drinking Dublin dock walloper became an inspiration to those who think they can't make it alone, or are too weak to turn their backs on earthly pleasures.

Today, there is a Matt Talbot Movement, under the direction of the Redemptorists, which consists of more than 160 retreat groups of more than 144,000 people in Ireland, America, and Canada. And the source of that inspiration is Matt Talbot, a Dublin drunk who grew up in Leopold Bloom's Dublin and was declared Venerable by his Church in 1973 because he saw God's way of life, not the self-indulgent way.

SOURCE: http://www.ourladyoftheisland.com/matt_talbot.htm

Although "Servant of God" is used in the title, the author is aware that Matt was declared "Venerable " as a stage toward canonization, but not in 1973 as stated but rather in 1975 by Pope Paul VI.

The reference to Matt being a "slave to Jesus and Mary" was influenced by his reading the writings of St. Louis Marie de Montfort. (One reference for "Montfortian spirituality" is http://www.montfort.org/English/SpiritLM.htm (JB)