No human science or eloquence could ever reach the depth of teaching, the power of soul-stirring supplication contained in the Office of the Dead. This intimate knowledge of the secrets of the other world, and of the way to win the heart of her Spouse, belongs to the bride alone; and she alone, the true mother of men, is able with exquisite tact to console the orphans and the bereaved, by shortening the painful purification of those who have passed away.

The suffering souls and the blessed, both are the captives of love; love gives them their dignity, and is their imperishable treasure. In the case of the blessed, faith having given place to the vision of God, their love is highest bliss; but to the suffering souls, imprisoned in darkness by sins not yet expiated, love is the source of inexpressible pain. However, they are now free from the anxieties of this world, the perils of hell, they are confirmed in grace, and can never sin again; they are full of gratitude towards God who has saved them in His mercy, and in His justice is purifying them to make them worthy of Himself. They are in a state of absolute and perfect resignation and of calm expectancy, called by holy Church a "sleep of peace".

The soul in purgatory, separated from the body which weighed her down and distracted her by a thousand vain preoccupations, is now entirely absorbed by the one desire of becoming at length perfectly pleasing to God. Towards this end her whole energy is directed: and so too is the force of the torments for whose violence she is so grateful. Purgatory is a crucible where the dross of sin is burnt away, until every debt is cancelled. When its flames have effaced every stain and every wrinkle that marred the soul's beauty, then she flees away to her Spouse, truly a blessed one and sure of offering no obstacle to the complacent love of her Lord. Yet to what a sad length her exile is prolonged! True, she is united by charity to the inhabitants of heaven: but the fire which torments her is of the same nature as that of hell; her abode is nigh to that of the damned; she must endure the proximity of the infernal Cedar, and of those haters of all peace, the detestable demons, who attacked her unceasingly during her mortal life with their assaults and their snares, and who still with deceitful tongue accuse her before the throne of God.

Yet the soul faints not; lifting up her eyes to the mountains, she feels that she can rely upon her Lord, and that she is abandoned neither by heaven, which is expecting her arrival, nor by her mother the Church on earth. Although purgatory, where justice and peace meet and embrace, is so near the region of endless weeping, it is still accessible to the angels. These august messengers comfort the soul with divine communications: while the blessed in heaven and the just on earth assist her with their prayers and suffrages. She is well assured that sin, the only real evil, can never touch her.

The destitute condition of the holy souls is well calculated to touch our hearts. Though not yet in heaven, they no longer belong to earth, and have consequently lost those privileges whereby God compensates us for the dangers which surround us in our passage through this world of trial. Their perfect acts of love, of hope, of faith, and of resignation, have no merit. Such unspeakable sufferings, accepted with their dispositions, would earn for us a reward equal to that of a thousand martyrs; yet to these souls they profit nothing, for all eternity, beyond the mere payment of the penalty exacted by the just Judge. Besides their inability to merit, they can no longer satisfy God's justice by offering Him an equivalent such as He can accept. Their powerlessness to help themselves is more absolute than that of the paralytic of the pool of Bethsaida: the saving waters are left behind on earth, together with the holy Sacrifice, the Sacraments, and the use of the all-powerful keys entrusted to the Church.

The Church, however, albeit she has no longer any jurisdiction over these poor souls, still feels towards them all a mother's tenderness; nor has she lost her credit with the Spouse. She makes their prayer her own. Opening the treasure she has inherited from the plentiful redemption of the Lord, she makes an offering from her dowry to Him who gave it her, begging in return the deliverance of the captives, or at least an alleviation of their sufferings. Thus, all rights being duly respected, abundant mercy penetrates into the kingdom of inexorable justice.