B-II/1. To Mother de Chantal: On entire devotion of self to God: St. Francis’s extreme affection for her.
5th June 1610.
To-morrow, then, you will have thoughts and cares, for I am beginning to have very particular ones about your future house, as regards temporal things; as to the spiritual, it seems to me that Our Lord will have care of them without our solicitude, and that he will pour out over them a thousand blessings.
My daughter, I must tell you that I never saw so clearly how much you are my daughter as I see it now; but I say that I see it in the heart of Our Lord; so do not fancy there is any failure of confidence in those few words which I wrote to you the other day—but we will talk of them another time.
O my daughter! what a desire have I that we be one day annihilated in ourselves to live wholly to God, and that our life be hidden with Christ in God![1] Oh! when shall we live, now not we, and when shall Christ live wholly in us?[2] I am going to make a little prayer on this, and I will beseech the royal heart of Our Saviour for our heart.
I am ever more yours in Jesus Christ, and I marvel at this growth of affection. Yes, I say it in earnest, I did not know that I could do what I can do in this, and I find a source which ever supplies me more abundant waters. Ah! it is God, undoubtedly. We must certainly put ourselves on our highest mettle, to serve God as nobly and valiantly as we can, for why do we think he has willed to make one sole heart out of two except that this heart might be extraordinarily bold, brave, spirited, constant and loving in its Creator and its Saviour?—by whom and in whom I am, yours,
B-II/2. To the Same: The excellence of her vocation: the Saint praises God for it.
In proportion as the sovereign goodness of the divine Trinity renews the spirit of his adoration[3] in the Holy Church, it seems to me to renew that of the sacred vocation of my dearest, best, and most honoured mother, who going out from her country, without knowing whither she was going, but believing God, who had said to her: Go out from thy country and thy father’s house,[4] came in to the mountain whose name was “God will see her;”[5] and God did see her, multiplying her spiritual offspring like the stars of heaven.
May God be ever glorified, my very dear mother, with whom I rejoice, yea, in whose heart my heart rejoices as in itself. May it, this heart of my mother, be eternally fixed in heaven like a fair star, the centre of a constellation. Is it possible that we shall eternally sing the canticle of Glory to the Father, to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost? Yes; the soul of my mother shall sing it for ever and ever, Amen. And God shall be blessed thereby unto eternity of eternities, Amen. Vive Jésus! Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost, for the gathering together of all these hearts for his honour. But, alas! what confusion for mine, which has co-operated in so holy a work with so slight a fidelity! But still, this same most holy Trinity, who is so sovereign a goodness, will be gracious to us, and we will in future do his will. Amen.
B-II/3. To the Same (Mother de Chantal): That she should receive her son with signs of love.
It is I, I think, who will be the first to announce to you, my very dear daughter, the coming of the well-beloved Celse Benigne. He arrived yesterday evening very late, and we had a difficulty in restraining him from going to see you in bed, where you doubtless were. How sorry am I to be unable to be witness of the caresses which he will receive from a mother who is insensible to all that is of natural love! For I think they will be terribly mortified ones. Ah! no, my dear daughter, be not so cruel; manifest to him some pleasure at his coming, to this poor young Celse Benigne. It is not right all at once to show such strong signs of this death of our natural passion.
Well, then, I will go to see you, if I can, but I will not be in a hurry; for we ought not to be insensible in the presence of objects which so strongly call for love. Friendship rather goes downwards than upwards. I will content myself with not ceasing to cherish you for my daughter as much as you cherish him for your son, and, moreover, I defy you to do better than I.
B-II/4. To the Same: On entire submission to God in spiritual trials.
25th January 1611.
St. Paul, that glorious and marvellous Saint, has awakened us early, my dearest daughter, crying out thus loudly in the ears of my heart and of yours: Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?[6]
My most dear mother and all-dear daughter, when will it be that, dead before God, we shall live again to this new life in which we shall no more will to do anything, but shall let God will all that we have to do, and shall let his will living act upon ours quite dead?
Well, my dear daughter, keep yourself close to God, consecrate to him your labours, await in patience the return of your fair sun. Ah! God has not shut us out from the enjoyment of his sweetness: he has only withdrawn it for a time, that we may live in him and for him, and not for this sweetness, that our afflicted sisters may find in us a compassionate assistance and a sweet and loving support, that from a heart denuded, dead, and immolated he may receive the agreeable odour of a holy holocaust.
O Lord Jesus! by your incomparable sadness, by the unequalled desolation which filled your divine heart on Mount Olivet and on the cross, and by the desolation of your dear Mother while deprived of your presence, be the joy, or at least the strength, of this daughter, while your cross and passion are most singularly united to her soul.
I send you this outburst of our heart, my dearest daughter, whom may the great St. Paul bless. I think you must be very good to the sister of Sister N.; for, after all, sweet charity is the virtue which spreads abroad the good odour of edification, and persons of lower position receive it with more profit.
B-II/5. To the Same: Change of name for the sisters: St. Frances of Rome their patroness and model.
9th March 1611.
Yes, my dear daughter, yes, we will yield and change the name of Oblate Sisters, since it displeases those gentlemen so much; but never will we change the eternal design and vow of being for ever the most humble servants of the Mother of God. Renew the promise of it in your Communion; I will do the same in the Sacrifice of the Mass. Ah! it is twelve years to-day since I had the grace of celebrating Mass in the monastery of this holy Roman widow, with a thousand desires of being devout to her all my life. As she is our holy patroness, she must be our model. She loved her little Batiste as well as you love your Celse Benigne; but she left to God the entire disposal of him, to do with him as he willed, and he made of him a child of salvation: so do I hope for the most dear son of my most dear mother.
B-II/6. To Mother de Bréchard, acting as Superioress at Annecy: That she should moderate her activity and her solicitude, trusting in God.
Autumn of 1611.
My very dear Daughter—You must take rest, and sufficient rest; must lovingly leave some work to others, and not seek to have all the crowns: our dear neighbours will be glad enough to have some. The ardour of holy love, which urges you to want to do everything, ought also to keep you back and make you leave others something to do for their consolation. God will be good to us, my daughter; I hope he is threatening you without intending to strike, and that the dear person of our mother will complete her journey back to her very dear lieutenant, her well-beloved daughter. I want you to labour in a spirit ardent yet gentle, fervent but moderate, expecting the good conclusion of sicknesses and of all affairs not from your labour, not from your care, but from the loving goodness of your Spouse. May he deign to bless you eternally, with all the flock of my dearest mother, absent, yet so present to us in heart, in the presence of him who is the supreme all of the heart of mother and of daughters: beseech him to be this also to the father, that all may be holily equal in our poor dear little Visitation. Amen.
B-II/7. To Mother de Chantal: On Holy Communion and abandonment to God.
17th January 1612.
M. Michel is going to start a little sooner than usual, in order that you may take your tablet[7] at least an hour before dinner. But, my dear daughter, both these things which you will take are tablets of cordial virtue, particularly the first, composed of the most excellent powder that ever was in the world. Yes, my dear daughter; for Our Saviour has taken our true flesh, which is in substance powder, but in him is so excellent, so pure, so holy, that the heavens and the sun are but dust in comparison of this sacred powder. Now, the tablet of the Holy Communion is precisely that; and it has been made into a tablet that we may take it better, though in itself it is the most divine and very great table which the Cherubim and Seraphim adore, and at which they eat by real contemplation as we by real communion.
Oh! what happiness that our love, whilst waiting for that visible union which we shall have with Our Lord in heaven, is by this mystery so admirably united to him! My dearest daughter, keep your soul in peace, do not look where its little maladies come from, do not put yourself into any trouble about its cure, but divert your spirit, as far as possible, from returning upon itself.
The great St. Anthony, whose intercession has an extraordinary influence to-day, will make you, by God’s goodness, rise to-morrow quite strong. It is a great joy to the heart to picture to oneself this great Saint among his hermits, drawing from his mind deep and sacred sayings, and pronouncing them with extreme reverence, as oracles from heaven: but, amongst other things, it seems to me that he says to our soul what he said among his disciples, taken from the Gospel: Be not solicitous about your soul, or, for your soul.[8] No, my dear daughter, remain in peace; for God, to whom it belongs, will console it.
Meantime, my well-beloved daughter, I cease not, in the depths of my soul, to form holy hopes that after God has proved us by this occasional little abandonment, and has exercised us in interior mortification, he will revive us by his sacred consolations. He, this dear love of our heart, only abases us to lift us up: he holds back, and hides himself, and looks through the lattices to see how we are behaving. Ah! Lord and Saviour, I half see, meseems, the brightness of your gentle eye, which promises us the return of your rays, to make fair spring appear again on our earth. Ah! my daughter, we have got well through worse: why shall we not have the courage to surmount this difficulty also? Believe, my daughter, that I pray to Our Lord for you with all my heart, for my soul is knit to yours, and I cherish you as my soul, as is said of Jonathan and David.[9] May God be for ever gracious to this heart, all vowed, all dedicated, all consecrated to heavenly love!
Good-night, my most dearly sole daughter: keep Jesus crucified tightly within your arms, for the spouse held him there as a bundle of myrrh,[10] that is, of bitterness: only, my dear daughter, it is not he who is bitter to us, he merely permits us to be bitter to ourselves. For behold, says Ezechias, my most bitter bitterness is in peace.[11] May the God of sweetness deign to make your heart sweet, or at least make your bitterness to be in peace.
This good sister wants to open her heart to you somewhat fully, but says she does not know how to do it; you must help her, then, and you may tell her that I said so. Blessed be God. Amen.
B-II/8. To the Same: On abandonment to God’s pleasure, even as to the exercise of faith, hope, and charity.
28th March 1612.
Well, my dearest daughter, it is fully time that I should, if I can, answer your long letter. Ah! yes, my dearest, most truly dearest daughter, but it must really be in haste, for I have very little leisure; and unless the sermon which I am about to preach were already formed in my head, I should not write to you anything more than the note attached to this.
But let us come to the interior trial which you write to me about. It is in reality a certain insensibility, which deprives you of the enjoyment, not only of consolations and inspirations, but also of faith, hope, and charity. You have them all the time, and in a very good condition, but you do not enjoy them: in fact, you are like an infant, whose guardian takes away from him the administration of all his goods, in such sort, that while in reality all is his, yet he handles and seems to possess no more than what he requires for living, and, as St. Paul says, in this he differeth nothing from a servant, though he be lord of all things.[12] For in the same way, my dear daughter, God does not want you to have the management of your faith, of your hope, or of your charity, nor to enjoy them, except just to live and to use them on occasions of pure necessity.
My dear daughter, how happy are we to be thus tied and kept close in by this heavenly guardian! And what we ought to do undoubtedly is what we do, namely, adore the loving Providence of God, and then throw ourselves into his arms and into his bosom. No, Lord, I no longer desire the enjoyment of my faith, of my hope, or of my charity, save to be able to say in truth, though without pleasure or feeling, that I would rather die than give up my faith, my hope, and my charity. Ah! Lord, if such is your good pleasure, that I should have no pleasure in the practice of the virtues which your grace has bestowed upon me, I consent with my whole will, although against the inclinations of my will.
It is the supreme point of holy religion to be content with naked, dry, insensible acts, exercised by the superior will alone; as it would be the superior degree of abstinence to content oneself in never eating save with disgust and reluctance, not simply without taste or relish. You have described your suffering to me very well, and you have nothing to do as remedy save what you are doing, protesting to Our Lord, even in spoken words, and even sometimes in song, that you will live on death itself, and will eat as if you were dead, without taste, without feeling and knowledge.
At last, this Saviour wishes that we should be so perfectly his, that nothing may remain to us save to abandon ourselves entirely to the mercy of his Providence without reserve. Well, let us then stay so, my dearest daughter, amid this darkness of the Passion. I say rightly amid this darkness, for I leave you to think—Our Lady and St. John being at the foot of the cross, amid the wonderful and dreadful darkness which occurred, no longer heard Our Lord, no longer saw him, and had no feeling save of bitterness and distress; and although they had faith, it also was in darkness, because it behoved that they should share in the dereliction of Our Saviour. How happy are we to be slaves of this great God, who made himself a slave for us!
But it is the hour for the sermon; adieu, my dear mother, my daughter in this Saviour. May his divine goodness live for ever! I have an incomparable ardour for the advancement of our heart, for which I resign all my other satisfactions into the hands of the sovereign and paternal Providence.
Good -night again, my dear daughter. May Jesus, sweet Jesus, sole heart of our heart, bless us with his holy love. Amen.
B-II/9. To a Superioress of the Visitation: Founders of a house must act according to the spirit of the Order: what the spirit of the Visitation is: blessed are poor communities.
22nd April 1612.[13]
My dear daughter, in a few words I say to you that those souls who are so fortunate as to desire to employ for God’s glory the means which he has given them ought to accommodate themselves to the designs which they form, and to resolve to put them into effect accordingly. If they are inspired to found a convent of Carthusians, they must not want to have schools there, as with Jesuits; if they want to found a college of Jesuits, they must not desire to have entire solitude and silence observed therein.
If this good lady, whom you do not name, desires to found a monastery of sisters of the Visitation, she must not burden them with long vocal prayers, nor with many exterior exercises; for this is not to desire sisters of the Visitation. It should suffice, in my opinion, that the whole interior and exterior of the daughters of the Visitation is consecrated to God; that they are victims of sacrifice, and living holocausts; that all their actions and resignations are so many outward or inward prayers; that all their hours are dedicated to God, yes, even those of sleep or recreation, and are fruits of charity. All this being employed for her soul, and the glory which accrues to God from the retired lives of so many daughters being applied to the increase of the charity of that heart, there results an almost infinite sum of spiritual riches.
Such are my sentiments. To charge the monasteries of the Visitation with practices which lead off from the end for which God has established them, I consider not a good thing to do. To seek to gather olives from a fig-tree, or figs from an olive, is unreasonable. Let him who wants figs plant fig-trees, and him who wants olives plant olive-trees.
My dear daughter, you are entirely of my way of thinking: in receiving subjects I far prefer the meek and humble, although poor, to the rich who are less humble and less meek, although they be rich. But it is useless to say: Blessed are the poor in spirit;[14] human prudence will not cease saying: Blessed are the monasteries, chapters, houses, which are rich. Even in this we must cultivate the poverty which we esteem, that we lovingly suffer it to be disesteemed.
You have received two new, yet old, daughters of your house: the return is always more agreeable to mothers than the departure of their children. I am with all my heart, my dear daughter, most entirely your very humble father and servant, &c.
B-II/10. Sacred challenge (cartel de défi) to my dear daughters of the Visitation of Sainte-Marie, as a good New Year’s present for this year.
1614.[15] Francis, Bishop of Geneva.
The life of man upon earth is a continual warfare. Our enemy is ever on the watch to surprise us, and he generally turns his battery against the weakest part of the citadel of our hearts, the place where he knows, by our frequent falls, the tendency of our perverse inclinations, our favourite passion, the one which does us the most injury, and yet the one which we least think of mastering, because it is agreeable to us, and because we flatter ourselves in the belief that our losses therein are slight: but it is by this that our enemy makes his advance, and tries to surprise us and capture us if he can. Each one of you, therefore, must watch well over this weakest part of her soul, and in order to begin to give you some instruction on this spiritual warfare, my very dear daughters, I am going to point out to each of you in particular the failing as to which you must watch yourselves, and the fine which you must pay when you fall: but I desire that, having paid this fine, you should take a new courage to fight more generously at the first attack, and that you should never lose heart in fighting, nor hope of conquering.
The general challenge
The frequent thought of God’s word to Abraham: Walk before me and be perfect.[16] And in order that the exterior action may not engross the interior attention and intention, my dear daughters will make six returnings to God at times not occupied by meditation, Office, or reading, when the attention is already bound to be actually applied. The fine for each failure will be the verse: Et beata viscera Mariæ Virginis, quæ portaverunt, &c., and the protectors of the challenge, St. Antony, St. Bruno, and St. Francis of Paula.
Challenge for the particular examen
1. Universal love for the worship of God, and specially preparation for and attention to the divine Office, vocal and mental prayers, readings, sermons, and devout discourses; against the remembrance of the world and attention to temporal things: the fine for each failure, the Psalm, Laudate Dominum, omnes gentes, for the re-establishment of ecclesiastical perfection; with my Mother Jeanne-Françoise Fremiot de Chantal, Our Lady, my Angel Guardian, and St. Francis of Assisi.
2. Interior recollection with our particular Saints and our Angel Guardian, in the time of silence, in solitude, in our cell, or other place unfilled by exercises which already require the mind’s attention; against natural weariness and importunate distractions: as a fine for each failure, the antiphon, Sancti Dei omnes, for all prelates and pastors of the Church, with my Sister Marie-Jacqueline Favre, St. Joseph and St. Michael.
3. Serious attention to ourselves and our charges; against the superfluous care of others’ charges, and the looking after their affairs: as a fine for each failure, the Salve Regina, for all Christian kings and princes: with my Sister Jeanne-Charlotte de Brechard, St. Augustine and St. Catharine.
4. Commiseration for the faults of others when we cannot justly excuse them: but we must not reveal them, nor ever speak of them, except to our superiors—the confessor or our Mother—for the amendment of them; against facility in speaking ill of our neighbour: as a fine for each failure, the antiphon, Sancta Maria: with my Sister Anne-Jacqueline (Coste), out-sister, St. John Baptist and St. Paul.
5. Sweetness and condescension towards all; against ill-humour and thought of self: as a fine for each failure, the verse: Virgo singularis, inter omnes mitis, &c., for all those who are aspiring to Christian perfection: with my Sister Peronne-Marie de Chastel, St. John and St. Jerome.
6. Indifference about the quality and quantity of food, as about everything else opposed to our sensuality; against softness and care of ourselves: as a fine for each failure, the Sub tuum præsidium, for all the necessitous, vicious, and ill-living poor: with my Sister Claude-Françoise Roget, St. Anne and St. Joachim.
7. The frequent recollection of the presence of God at recreations and everywhere else; against exterior unquiet and interior wandering thoughts: as a fine, Dominus pars hæreditatis meæ, &c., for all those who are consecrated to God: with my Sister Marie-Marguerite Milletot, St. Bernard and St. Agnes.
8. The renouncing of our own will in everything and as to everything that we can, with promptitude of obedience to those who have authority over us; against self-will and our carnal liberty: as a fine for each failure, the prayer, Respice quæsumus Domine, for all captives and prisoners: with my Sister Marie-Adrienne Fichet, St. Peter and St. Magdalen.
9. Loving acceptance of all sorts of corporal discomforts and spiritual troubles, rejoicing in them; against immortification of the senses and false liberty: as a fine for each failure, a Pater and Ave, for all pilgrims and strangers: with my Sister Claude-Marie Tiollier, St. Gregory and St. Clare.
10. Fidelity and promptitude in working out our perfection; against irresolution and pusillanimity: as a fine for each failure, the antiphon, Beata Dei Genitrix Maria, for the conversion of pagans, Turks, and infidels: with my Sister Claude-Agnes Joly de la Roche, St. Alexis and St. Elizabeth.
11. Mortification of the senses, both interior and exterior; against every sort of eagerness and curiosity of spirit: as a fine for each fault, the Ave Maria, for the extirpation of heresy: with my Sister Marie-Aimée de Blonay, St. Charles and St. Frances.
12. Simplicity, truthfulness, and candour; against envy, jealousy, and unstraightforwardness: as a fine for each failure, the verse: Monstra te esse matrem, &c., for the re-establishment of Christian perfection: with my Sister Marie-Marthe le Gros, St. Martha and St. Bernardino.
13. Humiliation, lowliness, and contempt of self; against self-confidence and self-conceit: as a fine for each failure, the verse: Vitam præsta puram, &c., for courtiers, that they may enter into themselves in their life of vanity: with my Sister Marie-Françoise-Avoie Humbert, St. Bonaventure and St. Catharine, Martyr.
14. Affability and sociability amongst people of the world, with evenness of temper; against self-esteem and too great taciturnity: as a fine for each failure, the verse, Solve vincla reis, &c.: with my Sister Anne-Marie Rosset, St. Ambrose and St. Antony of Padua.
15. Watchfulness over one’s actions, good active use of time, and abstaining from speaking of self or what belongs to self; against idleness and indulgence in vain and useless conversation (caqueterie): as a fine for each failure, the prayer, Respice quæsumus, for all the wanderers of the earth: with my Sister Marie-Antoine Tiollier, St. Bridget and St. Barbara.
16. A perfect desire to please God and our superiors in our actions; against our inclination to seek self and to please the world: as a fine for each failure, the Regi sæculorum immortali, &c., for the exaltation of the holy name of God amongst all that live: with my Sister Anne-Françoise Chardon, St. Catharine of Genoa and St. Onuphrius.
17. Not to complain of anything that may happen to us, such as sickness, discomfort, want of some temporal thing, nor even of our imperfections or slowness in perfection; not to be continually accusing ourselves, through humility, or rather through levity, and not to keep correcting our neighbour: as a fine, a De profundis for the souls in Purgatory: with my Sister De Gouffier, St. Antony and St. Reparatus.
B-II/11. To Mother de Chantal: Reason for having the change of rooms, &c., made at the end of the year.
Last day of 1613.
Yes, my very dear daughter, my mother, we must love the most holy will of God in little and in great changes. That which hinders me from going to see you to-day is little and great; I will tell it you at our first meeting. Meantime, make your little and great changes with all the perfection that you can. After having well thought it over before God, I am decided that we must confirm our congregation in making its changes on the day on which God makes his, who causes us all to pass from one year to another, giving us an annual lesson on our instability, on our mutations, on the removal and annihilation of the years which lead us to eternity.
B-II/12. To a Lady: Detachment and littleness the spirit of the Visitation.
15th October 1614.
If divine Providence make use of you, my dear daughter, you ought to humble yourself greatly, and to rejoice, but to rejoice in this sovereign goodness, which, as you know, has made it clear to you that it wishes to have you vile and abject in your own eyes, by the consolations which it has given you in the attempts which you have made to lower and abase yourself. No, indeed, my dear daughter, I shall not be in anxiety about your direction if you walk by that path, for God will be your guide, and, moreover, you will not be without persons to give you counsel in this, according to your desire. I am writing to Father Grangier, whom also I ask you to salute very affectionately from me, assuring him of my humble service.
You do extremely well to testify a very absolute indifference, the more so because it is the true spirit of our poor Visitation to keep oneself very abject and little, and to esteem oneself as nothing except in so far as it shall please God to look upon our abjection, and hence to have in esteem and honour all other forms of living in God, and, as I have said, to be amongst other congregations what the violet is among flowers—low, little, of unpretending colour. And let it suffice such a one that God has created her for his service, and that she may yield some little good odour in the Church, so that all which is most to the glory of God may be followed, loved, and persevered in. This is the rule of all true servants of God.
It is without doubt to the great glory of God that there is a Congregation of the Visitation in the world, for it is useful unto some particular effectswhich are special to it; wherefore, my dear daughter, we ought to love it. But if there are more exalted people, who also have grander aims, we ought to serve and reverence them very heartily when occasion presents itself. I shall then await more particular news from you about the service which you can render to this new plant. If God wills it to be a plant of the Visitation, and a second Visitation, may his goodness be ever glorified for it.
I am very glad that you lodge at the Ursulines; it is one of the congregations which my spirit loves. Salute them again from me, and assure them of my affection for their service as to all that lies in my power, which, however, will never be anything, because of what I am.
Keep closely, my dear daughter, within the enclosure of our sacred resolutions. They will keep your heart if your heart keeps them with humility, simplicity, and confidence in God.—Your most humble and affectionate brother and servant.
B-II/13. To Mother de Chastel: Consolation and remedies in temptations to impatience: the struggle between the spirit and the flesh.
SS. Simon and Jude, 28th October 1614.
Truly, my very dear daughter, you give me great pleasure in calling me your father, for I have indeed a heart lovingly paternal towards yours, which I see still a little weak in these ordinary light contradictions which occur, but I do not cease to love it. For although it seems to itself sometimes that it is about to lose courage over the little words of reprehension which are said to it, still it has never yet lost its courage, this poor heart; for its God has held it with his strong hand, and, according to his mercy, he has never abandoned his miserable creature. O my dear daughter, he will never abandon it; for although we are troubled and tormented by these troublesome temptations to sadness and impatience, still we never wish to quit God, nor Our Lady, nor our congregation, which is his, nor our rules, which are his will.
You say in good truth, my poor dear daughter Peronne-Marie, that there are two men or two women that you have in you. The one is a certain Peronne-Marie, who, like S. Peter at first, is a little touchy, sensitive, and ready to be put out and vexed when she is contradicted: that is the Peronne who is a daughter of Eve, and therefore of evil humour. The other is a certain Peronne-Marie who has a very good will to be all God’s, and, in order to be all God’s, to be very simply humble and humbly sweet towards all her neighbours; and this one it is who would like to imitate St. Peter, who was so good after Our Lord had converted him: it is this Peronne-Marie who is a daughter of the glorious Virgin Mary, and consequently is of good affection. And these two daughters of these different mothers fight; and the good-for-nothing one is so bad that sometimes the good one has much ado to defend herself, and then it seems to this poor good one that she has been conquered, and that the bad one is the braver. But no, indeed, my poor dear Peronne-Marie, that bad one is not braver than you, she is only more persistent, perverse, overbearing, and self-willed; and when you begin crying she is very glad, because this is always so much time lost, and she is glad to make you lose time when she cannot make you lose eternity.
My dear daughter, raise high your courage, arm yourself with the patience which we ought to have with ourselves; often arouse your heart that it may be enough on its guard not to let itself be surprised; give some little attention to this enemy; think of her if you like wherever you go; for this bad daughter is everywhere with you, and if you do not think of her she will think of something against you. But when it happens that she attacks you on a sudden, although she make you tremble a little and give you a little wrench, be not troubled, but call upon Our Lord and Our Lady; they will extend to you the holy hand of their help; and if they sometimes leave you in trouble, it will be in order to make you cry out again, and more loudly, for help.
Have no shame about this, my dear daughter, any more than St. Paul had, who confesses that he had two men in him, one of whom was rebellious to God and the other obedient. Be very simple, do not get angry, humble yourself without discouragement, encourage yourself without presumption; recognise that Our Lord and Our Lady, having laid upon you the distraction of the house, know well and see that you are disturbed therein; but they do not cease to love you provided that you are humble and trustful. But, my, daughter, be not ashamed to be a little dusty and dirty; dust is better than blemishes; and provided that you humble yourself, all will turn unto good. Pray earnestly to God for me, my dear daughter, truly well-beloved: and may God be for ever your love and protection. Amen. Day of SS. Simon and Jude, 1614.
B-II/14. To Mother de Chantal: The Saint wishes her God-speed in her journey to Lyons to make there the first branch of the Visitation.
26th January 1615.
Well now, my dear daughter, since God is the unity of our heart, who shall ever separate us? No, neither death, nor life, nor things present, nor things future, shall ever separate us or divide our unity. Let us go, then, my dear daughter, with one sole heart, where God calls us; for the diversity of paths makes no diversity in ourselves, as it is for one single object and for a single subject that we go. O God of my heart! hold my dearest daughter by your hand, may her Angel be ever at her right hand to protect her; may the Blessed Virgin Our Lady ever cheer her with the look of her sweet eyes.
My dear daughter, heavenly Providence will aid you; invoke it with confidence in all the difficulties with which you will find yourself surrounded. In proportion as you go on, my dear mother, my daughter, you must take courage, and rejoice that you please Our Saviour, whose pleasure alone pleases all Paradise. As for me, I am there where you are yourself, since the divine Majesty has so willed it eternally. Let us go, then, my dear daughter, let us go sweetly and joyously to do the work which our Master has appointed us.
My very dear mother, my daughter, it comes to my memory that the great St. Ignatius, who bore Jesus Christ in his heart, went joyously to serve as food for the lions, and to suffer martyrdom from their teeth; and here you go and we go, if it please this great Saviour, to Lyons, to do many services for Our Lord, and to prepare for him many souls of whom he will make himself the Bridegroom. Why shall not we go joyously in the name of Our Saviour when this Saint went so cheerfully to the martyrdom of Our Saviour? How happy are those spirits which move according to the will of this divine Spirit, and seek him with all their heart, leaving all, and the very father whom he has given them, in order to follow his divine Majesty!
Go, my dear mother, my daughter; your Angels here keep their eyes upon you and your little flock, and cannot abandon you, since you do not leave the place of their protection nor the persons over whom they watch, except for the purpose of not leaving the will of him to do whose will they very often think themselves happy to leave heaven. The Angels there, who await you, will send their benedictions to meet you, and as you go towards their districts, they lovingly regard you, because it is to co-operate in their holy ministry.
Keep your hearts in courage; for since your heart is God’s he will be your courage. Go, then, my daughter, go with a thousand thousand benedictions which your father gives you; and be sure that he will never fail to breathe forth with every breath of his soul holy wishes for you. It will be his first exercise at his awakening in the morning, his last when he lies down in the evening, and his chief intention at holy Mass. Vive Jésus, et Marie! Amen.
B-II/15. To the Same, at Lyons: Encouragement in the difficulties of her enterprise: exhortation to charity and forbearance.
February 1615.[17]
I have received none of your letters, my most dear daughter, since your departure. What does this mean? I pray. Now I know well all the same that your charity is invariable, but I learn by letters from Lyons that you are ill, and also a little disappointed to find things not on so good a footing as our desire made me imagine. These, my dear daughter, are true signs of the goodness of the work: the approach is always difficult, progress a little less so, and the end happy.
Do not lose courage, for God will never lose the care of your heart, and of your flock, so long as you confide in him. The gate of consolations is narrow; the after-way makes up. Do not be disheartened, my dear daughter, nor let your spirit sink amid contradictions. When was the service of God ever exempt from them, particularly at its birth?
But I must tell you frankly what I fear more than all on this occasion; it is the temptation of aversion and repugnance between you and our N.; for it is the temptation which ordinarily occurs in matters which depend on the cooperation of two persons; it is the temptation of earthly angels, since it arose between the greatest saints, and it is the weakness of all of us who are children of Adam, and ruins us unless charity deliver us from it. When I see two Apostles separate from one another[18] through disagreeing about a third companion, I find these little repugnances very bearable, provided that they spoil nothing, as that separation did not disturb the Apostolic mission. If something of the kind happened between you two who are women, it would not be very bad, supposing it did not last. But still, my dear daughter, lift up your spirit, and be assured that your action is of great consequence; suffer, do not get impatient, soften everything; bear in mind that it is God’s work in which this lady acts according to her ideas, and you according to yours, and that both of you ought to bear and forbear with one another for love of Our Saviour: two or three years soon pass, and eternity remains.
Your corporal malady is an extra burden, but the help promised to the afflicted ought to strengthen you greatly. Above all, keep from discouragement. Believe me, you must sow in labour, in perplexity, in anguish, to gather with joy, with consolation, with happiness; holy confidence in God sweetens all, obtains all, and establishes all. I am entirely yours, in truth, my dearest daughter, and I cease not to beg God to make you holy, strong, constant, and perfect in his service.
I salute very cordially our dear sisters and conjure them to pray to God for my soul, inseparable from yours and theirs in the love which is according to Jesus Our Saviour.
B-II/16. To the Same: In the spiritual life we must be ever beginning again, with courage always increasing: it is a maxim of the Saints to speak little of self: congratulations on having the Blessed Sacrament in the new house.
February 1615.
Believe me, my dear mother, as yourself. God wants unknown great things from us. I saw the tears of my poor sister N., and methinks all our childishness proceeds from no fault but this, that we forget the maxim of the Saints, who have warned us that every day we should consider we begin our course of perfection; and if we thought properly of this we should not be disturbed at finding miseries in ourselves, or things to amend. We have never done; we must always begin again and again with a good heart. When a man hath done, then shall he begin.[19] What we have done up to now is good, but what we are going to begin shall be better; and when we have finished it we will begin another thing which shall be better still, and then another, till we depart out of this world to begin another life, which will have no end, because nothing better can come to us. Go and see, then, my dear mother, whether we are to weep when we find some work to be done in our souls, and whether we must have courage to go ever forward, since we must never stop, and whether we need to have resolution in our renunciations, since we must bring the razor to the division of the soul and the spirit,[20] of the nerves and the sinews.
Truly, my dear mother, you see that my heart, which is your own, is full of this sentiment, since it pours out these words, though without leisure and without having thought over them. But now, my dear mother, observe well the precept of the Saints, which all have regarded who want to become so, to speak little or not at all of oneself or of what belongs to self. Do not think that because you are at Lyons you are dispensed from the compact which we made, that you should be moderate in speaking of me, as also of yourself. If the glory of the Master do not require it, be brief, and exactly observe simplicity. The love of ourself often dazzles us; eyes must be very true to avoid being deceived when we look at ourself. This is why the great Apostle cries out: For not he who commendeth himself is approved, but he whom God commendeth.[21]
The good Father Granger said right, and the Holy Spirit will be pleased with him for it. I am very glad that in your hive and in the midst of this new swarm you have your King, your honey, and your all. The presence of this sacred Humanity will fill all your house with sweetness; and it is a great consolation to souls who are attentive to faith to have this treasure of life near. I have prayed this morning with a special ardour for our advancement in the holy love of God, and feel greater desires than ever for the good of your soul. Ah! I say, O Saviour of our heart, since we are every day at your table to eat not your bread only but yourself, who are our living and supersubstantial bread, grant that we may every day make a good and perfect digestion of this most perfect food, and that we may perpetually live by your sacred sweetness, goodness, and love. Well, now, God does not give so much desire to this our one heart without willing to favour it with some corresponding effect. Let us hope, then, my one sole mother, that the Holy Spirit will crown us one day with his holy love; and while waiting let us perpetually remain in hope, and make space for this sacred fire, emptying our heart of ourselves as far as shall be possible to us. How happy shall we be, my dear mother, if one day we change our ownself into this love, which, making us more one, will perfectly empty us of all multiplicity, to have in our heart only the sovereign unity of his most holy Trinity! May this be ever blessed, world without end. Amen.
B-II/17. To the Same: The pigeons and little birds at Sales: thoughts on charity and simplicity. Her manner of prayer is good: his own prayer. Reference to the Treatise on the Love of God.
The second day of Lent (5th March) 1615.[22]
I wrote to you when going to Sales, my dearest mother, and now I write to you on my return. I have had three consolations, and you will be very glad to know them, for what consoles me consoles you also.
First, my dear little sister,[23] whom I find ever more amiable, and desirous to become greatly devout.
Secondly, yesterday, Ash Wednesday, I had my morning all alone in the gallery and in the chapel, where I had a sweet memory of our dear and desirable conferences at the time of your general confession: and I cannot describe what good thoughts and affections God gave me on this subject.
Thirdly, there had been a heavy snow, and the courtyard was covered with a good foot of snow. John came in and swept a small space clear of snow and threw down corn there for the pigeons to eat, who all came together into that refectory to take their refection, with an admirable peace and decorum; and I watched them with interest. You would not believe what great edification these little creatures gave me; for they never said one single little word, and those who had finished their meal first flew to one side to wait for the others. And when they had left half the space free there came round them a number of smaller birds who had been watching them; and all the pigeons who were still eating retired into a corner, leaving the greatest part of the place to the little birds, who came in their turn to the table to eat, the pigeons not minding them at all.
I admired the charity: for the poor pigeons had such great fear of distressing these little birds to whom they were giving alms, that they kept all by themselves at one end of the table. I admired the discretion of these beggars, who did not come for alms till they saw that the pigeons were near the end of their repast, and that there was sufficient left. At last, I could not keep from tears, to see the charitable simplicity of the doves, and the confidence of the little birds in their charity. I do not know whether a preacher would have touched me so sensibly. This image of virtue did me great good all the day.
But they have come to hasten me, my dear mother: my heart entertains you with its thoughts, and my thoughts most frequently entertain themselves with your heart, which is, without doubt, one same heart with mine.
Your prayer of simply committing yourself to God is extremely holy and wholesome. You must never have a doubt of it: it has been so closely examined, and always been found to be the manner of prayer in which Our Saviour wished you. So there is nothing more to be done than quietly continue in it.
God favours me with many consolations and holy affections, by lights and sentiments which he diffuses in the superior part of my soul; the inferior has no part therein. May he be blessed for it eternally. May God, who is the soul of our heart, my dear mother, deign ever to fill you with his holy love. Amen.
I do what I can for the book. Be sure that it is a great martyrdom to be unable to gain the time required; still I get on well, and I think that I shall keep my word to my dear mother. You are, my very dear mother, all precious to my heart. May God make you ever more and more entirely his. I salute our dear sisters
B-II/18. To the Same: Consolations under calumny: holy indifference to be cultivated: liberty as to spiritual communications: imperfect souls to be received and borne with.
13th May 1615.
I praise God, my dear mother, because this poor little congregation of servants of the divine Majesty is much calumniated. Alas! I regret the sins of the calumniators, but this injury received is one of the best marks of the approbation of Heaven; and in order that we may be able to understand this secret, Our Lord himself was calumniated—in how many fashions! Oh! blessed are they who suffer persecution for justice sake.[24]
Your interior affliction is also a persecution for justice, for it tends to adjust your will exactly to the resignation and indifference which we love and praise so much. The more Our Lord subtracts his sensible consolations, the more perfections he prepares for us, provided that we humble ourselves before him, and cast all our hope upon him.
We must cultivate the most holy indifference, to which Our Lord calls us. Whether you are here or there, what can separate us from the unity which is in Our Lord Jesus Christ?[25] In fact, it is a thing which henceforth makes no difference to our souls, this being in one place or two, since our most precious unity subsists everywhere, thanks to him who has effected it. How many times have I said it to you, my dear mother, that heaven and earth are not distant enough to separate the hearts which our Lord has joined! Let us remain at peace in this assurance.
I much prefer that the house should confide entirely in you, for so things will go very smoothly and sweetly, provided you are left at liberty, and they rest upon your word: but I fear that they may want to keep you there; this would be an unjust thought, and one I could not listen to. I say thought, because the thing itself must not be spoken of. You must, then, on this subject speak sweetly and justly, and declare that you will have a very sufficient care of that house.
It is necessary to guard like the apple of one’s eye the holy liberty which the Institute gives as to spiritual communications and conferences. Experience tells me that nothing is so useful to the servants of God, when it is practised according to our rules.
I answer that the self-assertion of these souls nourished in their own judgment would not prevent their being received, if there had been explained to them the general maxims of sweetness, charity, and simplicity, and the throwing off of natural humours, inclinations, and aversions which ought to reign in our Congregation: for, after all, if we would only receive souls with whom there was no trouble, Orders of religion would be of scarcely any service to our neighbour, since these souls would almost everywhere do well.
My dear mother, live joyful, courageous, peaceful, united to Our Saviour; and may it please his goodness to bless the most holy oneness which he has made of us, and to sanctify it more and more. I salute our dear sisters. Ah! how much perfection do I wish them!
This 13th day of May—on which I commence the twenty-third year of my life in the ecclesiastical state, full of confusion at having done so little towards living in the perfection of this state.
B-II/19. To the Same: The Saint consoles her by telling her that she is united to Christ though she does not feel his presence: “Hallowed be thy name.”
21st July 1615.
My very dear Daughter—Upon a time[26] Magdalen was speaking to Our Lord, and thinking herself separated from him, she wept and begged for him, and was so overcome that while seeing him she saw him not. Well, now—courage! Let us not anxiously trouble ourselves; we have our sweet Jesus with us, we are not separated from him; at least so I firmly believe. Woman, why weepest thou? No, we must no longer be woman, we must have a man’s heart; and provided that we have our soul steady in the will of living and dying in the service of God, let us not trouble ourselves about darkness, or powerlessness, or barriers. And speaking of barriers, Magdalen wanted to embrace Our Lord, and this sweet Master puts a barrier. No, he says, Touch me not; for I have not yet ascended to the Father. There on high will be no barriers; here we must endure them. Let it suffice us that God is our God, and that our heart is his home.
Shall I tell you a thought which I lately formed in the hour of the morning which I reserve for my poor weak soul? My point was the petition of the Lord’s Prayer: Hallowed be thy name. O God, I said, who will give me the happiness of one day seeing the name of Jesus graven at the very bottom of the heart of her who already bears it marked on her breast? I called to mind also the palaces in Paris, on the front of which is written the name of the princes to whom they belong; and I rejoiced to think how the palace of your heart is “Jesus Christ’s.” May he deign to live there eternally. Pray earnestly for me, who am so greatly and so paternally yours.
B-II/20. To Mother Favre, Superioress at Lyons: The excellence of her vocation: advice in temptation: care for observance of rule and for encouraging generosity of spirit. Various salutations.
Annecy, 13th December 1615.
It is true, my dear daughter, we have long delayed writing to you; moreover, on my part, for three weeks I am dragging on between health and sickness; but it is not that which has hindered me from writing; the fact is, no opportunity, either slight or great, has presented itself. In future when there is none here we will send to Chambery, for there it is never wanting. But do not you, my dear daughter, write so many letters each time; it will suffice when you have written all to our dear mother, to put one single little note for the poor father, who says nothing except that he is all yours.
I am pleased beyond what can be expressed to see that you ardently love your vocation; that alone can sanctify you, and nothing without that. Thanks to God, we see that his divine Providence wills to use it for the good of many souls in various places where they want this Congregation, which by miracle seems to be fertile in the very instant of its birth.
I certainly think that of those young persons who want to see the practice and nature of the rules you must make a part come here, that you may not be overcharged with an excessive care, nor similarly our dear Sister Marie-Aimée, whom I see already, methinks, tottering a little under the burden: but you will increase her courage, and will give her the strength of a generous zeal on the foundation of a profound humility.
I have seen the temptation. Alas! my dearest daughter, we must have some; this one sometimes harasses the heart, but never terrifies it, if it be somewhat on its guard and remain brave. Humble yourself profoundly, and be not alarmed. Lilies which grow among thorns are whiter, and roses by the waterside smell sweeter and become musky: He who has not been tempted, what does he know?[27]
If your trouble lie in some sensible feeling, as you seem to give me to think, change your corporal exercises when you are attacked by it; if you cannot well change your exercises, change your place and posture. It is driven away by these various changes. If it lie in your imagination, sing, keep with the others, change your spiritual exercises, that is, pass from one to the other, and the changing of place will help you here again.
Above all, be not discouraged; but often renew your vows, and humble yourself before God. Promise victory to your heart on the part of the Blessed Virgin. If anything be a scruple to you, say it boldly and bravely, without making any reflection on it, when you approach the Sacrament of Penance. But I hope in God that with a noble spirit you will keep yourself exempt from all that can cause scruple.
I am quite willing that you should wear the hair-shirt once a week, unless you recognise that this makes you too slothful in other more important exercises, as sometimes happens.
Keep firmly, my dear daughter, to the strict observance of the rules, and the religious behaviour of yourself and the whole house. Cause great respect to be shown to sacred places and things. The care which you will take in all this will be very agreeable to Our Lord, above all if it be taken with humility, sweetness, and tranquillity.
Our sisters will tell you all the news here, and of the reception of the good Madame de Chatelar, and Mlle. d’Avise. This disgusts the world a little; but it cannot be helped, Our Lord must be served.
I told our Sister de Gouffier that I wanted henceforward to give generosity to the devotion of our sisters, and to take away the sensitiveness which one often has for oneself—that little softness which disturbs our peace, makes us desire spiritual and interior privileges, makes us excuse our humours and flatter our inclinations. But, my dear daughter, we have not yet got to it, though truly all make progress towards it. Well, I doubt not that God gives you the same sentiments, since you are one same spirit with all of us.
I approve your continuing to call our mother, mother, since this is a consolation to you, and your calling me father, for I have towards you a heart far more than paternal. Know this, my dear daughter, that since you are in office you are always so present to me, that I seem to myself to be perpetually with you, not without making a thousand thousand wishes about your dear soul.
Be most careful to offer a little salutation to my Lord the Archbishop sometimes on my part. You could not think what I owe to him, or how God blessed the little visit which he made here. I salute M. de Saint Nizier, of whom you think so much; may God increase blessings upon him and upon our reverend chaplain. Also, I salute Madame the wife of President Le Blanc, when you see her, and M. Colin and M. Vulliat, not to mention my dear Sister Marie-Peronne, to whom I belong entirely, as to all our good sisters. Lastly, I salute your heart, which mine cherishes with all its strength, wishing it the blessing of Our Saviour’s—to which be glory eternally, Amen, as to that of his holy Mother, Our Lady.
Your renewal of vows not having been made on the Presentation, you can make it on New Year’s day, or on the day of the Kings, or when my Lord Archbishop chooses; for I have no doubt you wish that it should be he who will receive them. Our sisters here said before Mass, while I was vesting, the Veni Creator; and after the renewal, the Laudate Dominum omnes gentes, and pronounced their vows very solemnly.
My dear daughter, I am all yours.
B-II/21. To the Same: Consolation and encouragement.
18th December 1615. [Tr.]
It is assuredly true, my dear daughter, your consolations console me greatly, but above all when they are founded on so firm a rock as is that of the presence of God. Walk ever thus near to God, for his shadow is more healthful than the sun.
There is no harm in trembling sometimes before him in whose presence the Angels themselves tremble; on condition, however, that holy love, which is over all his works, remain ever the higher part, the beginning and the end of your considerations.
See, then, how well things go, since these little sallies of your spirit do not flash out so suddenly, and your heart is a little gentler. Be ever faithful to God and to your soul. Always be correcting yourself of something; do not do this good office by force, but try to take pleasure in it, as lovers of country occupations do in pruning the trees of their orchards.
Our Lord will, without doubt, supply all that is wanting from elsewhere, in order that you may make a more perfect retreat with him, provided it be he whom you love, whom you seek, whom you follow. And you do so, I know, my daughter; but do so then always, and recommend me to his mercy, since I am with all my heart your very affectionate servant, &c.
B-II/22. To the Same[28]: The excellence of acknowledging one’s imperfections.
18th December 1615. [?]
Yes, yes, in God’s name, my dear granddaughter; I know well what your heart has been towards me—but do you not want me to take the time and the season for planting therein the plants of most excellent virtues, whose fruit is everlasting? I have no leisure, but I tell you in truth that your letter has embalmed my soul with so sweet a perfume that for a long time I had read nothing which had given me so perfect a consolation. And I say again, my dear daughter, that this letter has given me fresh movements of love towards God, who is so good, and towards yourself whom he wants to make so good, for which I am truly obliged to render thanks to his divine Providence. It is thus, my daughter, that we must in good earnest put our hands into the folds of our hearts, in order to tear out the foul productions which our self-love breeds therein by means of our humours, inclinations, and aversions.
What a satisfaction to a most loving father’s heart to hear that of his most beloved daughter confess that she has been envious and malicious! How blessed is this envy, since it is followed by so sincere a confession! Your hand, when it wrote your letter, performed a braver deed than ever did that of Alexander. Do then, by all means, what your heart has proposed. Do not distress yourself about what has happened; but simply, humbly, lovingly, confidently, reunite your spirit to that of this amiable soul, who, I am sure, will thereby receive a thousand consolations. O my daughter, it is a great part of our perfection to support one another in our imperfections; for in what can we practise love of our neighbour save in this support? My daughter, she will love you, and you will love her, and God will love you all. And as for me, my dear daughter, you will love me also, since God so wills, and consequently gives me a perfect love of your soul, which I conjure to go from good to better, and from better to better, in the acquiring of virtues. Walk courageously and with heart upraised. Vive Jesus! Amen.
B-II/23. To a Superior of the Visitation [Mother Favre]: Encouragement to renounce all for God, and to have no solicitude.
Early in 1616.[29]
Truly I see with my own eyes, methinks, and feel with my own heart, that you have made an exercise of very great renunciation. But, O how blessed are the naked of heart! For Our Lord will clothe them again with graces, with benedictions, and with his special protection. Poor and wretched creatures that we are in this mortal life, we can scarcely do anything good without suffering some evil for it; nay, we can hardly even serve him in one direction without leaving him in another; and often it is required to leave God for God, renouncing his sweetness to serve him in his sorrows and travails.
My very dear daughter—Ah! maidens who get married give up without difficulty the presence of their fathers and mothers, and of their country, to put themselves under husbands who are very often unknown to them—at least their dispositions are unknown—with the object of bearing to them children for this world. Surely a greater courage than this God’s daughters must have, to form in purity and sanctity of life children for his divine Majesty. But all the same, my dear daughter, we can never quit one another, we whom the very blood of Our Lord, I mean his love by merit of his blood, holds glued and joined together. Certainly, for my part, I am in truth so perfectly yours that in proportion as these two or three days of distance seem to separate us corporally, I join myself with stronger and fuller affection spiritually to you, as to my daughter most dear. You will be the first with our mother in my prayers and in my solicitudes—sweet solicitudes, however, because of the extreme confidence which I have in this celestial care of divine Providence over your soul, which will be blessed if it cast also all its apprehensions into this bosom of infinite love.
So then, my dear daughter, have your eyes lifted up high to God; increase your courage in most holy humility, strengthen it with sweetness, confirm it in equality of mind; make your spirit perpetually mistress of your inclinations and humours; allow no fears to take possession of your heart: one day will give you the knowledge of what you shall do the next.[30] You have so far got through many hazards, and this by God’s grace; the same grace will deliver you from the difficulties and perils of the way, one after the other, even if he have to send an angel to bear you up in the more dangerous passages.
Do not turn back your eyes upon your infirmities and weaknesses, unless to humble yourself; never to discourage yourself. Often behold God on your right hand, and the two Angels whom he has appointed you, one for your person, the other for your little family. Say often to them, to these holy angels: My Lords, how shall I act? Beseech them to impart habitually to you that knowledge of the divine Will which they contemplate, and the inspirations which Our Lady desires that you should receive from her own breasts of love. Do not take notice of that variety of imperfections which exist in yourself and in all the daughters whom Our Lord and Our Lady have put under your charge, except to keep yourself in the holy fear of offending God; never to alarm yourself; for we must not marvel that each herb and each flower in a garden requires its special care.
I have learnt one or two of the graces which God gave to our very dear Sister Marie-Renée at her decease. She was most truly my daughter; for when I was there she made a review of her whole life, to give me a knowledge of what she had been, with incredible humility and confidence, and without great necessity, to my extreme edification, when I think of it again. Now she is there praying for us, and for you in particular, since she passed away as your daughter and with your assistance.
Give me the consolation, my dear daughter, of often writing to me and always telling me the things which you think I may profitably know of the state of your heart, which I bless with all mine in the name of Our Lord, and am in God all yours.
B-II/24. To the Same: On good and on useless desires: advice in temptation.
Annecy, 17th April 1616.
I returned yesterday from the Chablais, my dear daughter, where, thanks to God, I have left the Barnabite Fathers established, according to the command of His Highness and the Cardinal Prince; to-morrow I am going to console Madame the Countess of Tournon on the death of her husband, to which I am bound by the relationship which is between us, and the obligations which I have to the memory of the deceased. This is by way of telling you, my dear daughter, that I am writing to you without leisure, and yet I want to answer the two questions which you put to me some time back; for I see clearly that it is of no use to wait for convenience to do better, since I am destined to continual pressure of troublesome affairs.
My dear daughter, there are two kinds of good desires; one, those which increase the grace and glory of God’s servants; the other, which effect nothing. Desires of the former kind are thus expressed: I should like, say, to give alms, but I do not, because I have not the wherewithal; and these desires greatly increase charity and sanctify the soul: thus devout souls desire martyrdom, reproaches and the cross, which yet they cannot obtain. Desires of the second kind are expressed thus: I should like to give alms, but I do not will to do so; and these desires are not hindered from effect by impossibility, but by meanness of spirit, timidity, and want of earnestness, whence they are useless and do not sanctify the soul, nor give any increase of grace, and of them, St. Bernard says, hell is full.
It is true that for the entire resolution of your difficulty you must note that there are desires which seem to be of the second sort, and yet all the same are of the first; as, on the contrary, there are some which appear to be of the first, and are really of the second. For example, no servant of God can be without this desire: Oh how greatly I would wish to serve God better! Alas! when shall I serve him as I desire? And because we can always go from better to better, it seems that the effects of these desires are only hindered by want of resolution. But this is not true, for they are hindered by the condition of this mortal life, in which it is not so easy for us to do as to desire. For which reason these desires in general are good, and make the soul better, giving it fervour, and persuading it to progress. But when, in particular, some occasion of making progress presents itself, and a person instead of coming to deed stops short at desire—as, for example, an occasion presents itself of pardoning an injury, of renouncing my own will on some particular subject, and instead of granting this pardon, making the renunciation, I simply say: I would much desire to pardon, but I am not able; I would like to make this renouncement, but it cannot be—who does not see that this desire is a mere occupation of the fancy, yea, that it makes me more guilty in having so strong an inclination towards good and not putting it into act? And these desires made thus seem to be of the first sort and are of the second. Well, it will now be easy for you to settle your doubt, I think. But if there yet remain some difficulty write it to me, and sooner or later I will answer you with all my heart, which is indeed wholly yours, my very dear daughter.
Those who are tempted with unbecoming imaginations in meditations on the life and death of the Saviour should, as far as possible, represent the mysteries to themselves simply by faith, without using the imagination. For example: My Saviour was crucified; it is a proposition of faith; enough that I simply apprehend it, without imagining to myself how his body hung on the cross. And when the improper imaginations arise, you must turn upon them, and drive them back by affections proceeding from faith. O Jesus crucified, I adore you; I adore your torments, your pains, your travail; you are my salvation. For, my dear daughter, to want to leave off meditating on the death or life of Our Lord, on account of these filthy representations, would be to play the enemy’s game, who tries by this means to deprive us of our greatest blessing.
Truly I am out of breath, but you will supply by your goodness. I will write at another time to Sister G. M., and then to Sister M. A., and meanwhile I salute their love, which I pray to recommend me earnestly to Our Lord; as also Sister Frances Teresa, and all the other sisters, whom I greatly love in the faith of Our Saviour. I salute the reverend chaplain, and am his entirely. Adieu! my dear daughter, À Dieu (to God) may we be eternally, to love and bless him without ceasing.
I humbly salute M. de Saint Nizier, and the Rev. Father Philip, and beg you, when you see the Rev. Father Rector, to assure him of my very humble and sincere affection. I salute Mesdames Vulliat and Colin.
B-II/25. To Mother de Brechard, about to Found the House at Moulins:Discouragement is the temptation of temptations: it is no fruit of humility, neither does corporal infirmity justify it. She is to rule on supernatural principles.
About August 1616.[31]
The service which you are going to render to Our Lord and his glorious Mother is apostolic; for you are going to collect, my dear daughter, many souls in a congregation, to lead them as a band to the spiritual warfare against the world, the devil, and the flesh, for the glory of God; or, rather, you are going to make a new swarm of bees, which in a new hive will work in divine love, more delicious than honey. Well, then, walk courageously with perfect confidence in the goodness of him who calls you to this holy duty. When did any one hope in God and was confounded? The distrust which you ought to have of yourself is good so long as it serves as a base to the confidence you should have in God; but if ever it lead you to any discouragement, disquiet, sadness, or melancholy, I beseech you to reject it as the temptation of temptations, and never permit your spirit to argue and reply in favour of the disquiet or depression of heart to which you may feel yourself tending. For it is a simple and entirely certain truth that God permits many difficulties to arise in the way of those who undertake his service, but still that he never lets them fall under the burden so long as they rest in him. It is, in a word, the great point in your case, never to employ your spirit to defend and support the temptation to discouragement under any pretext whatever, not even if it should be under the specious pretext of humility. Humility, my dear daughter, refuses offices; but it is not obstinate in its refusal, and when employed by those who have the right, it no longer reasons upon its unworthiness as to that thing, but believes all things, hopes all things, bears all things with charity; it is always simple, is holy humility, and a great follower of obedience; and, as it never dares to think itself can do anything, so it always thinks that obedience can do everything, and as true simplicity humbly refuses charges, true humility exercises them simply.
Your body is a mass of weakness, but charity which is its clothing will cover all. A weakly person excites to a holy considerateness all who know her, and even causes a tenderness of special predilection, provided that she be seen to bear her cross devoutly and sweetly; one must be just as frank in taking and asking remedies as gentle and courageous in bearing the illness. He who can preserve sweetness amid pains and feebleness, and peace amid the worry and multitude of affairs, is almost perfect; and although one finds few, even Religious, who attain to this degree of blessedness, yet there are some, and have been at all times, and we must aspire to this height. Almost everybody finds it easy to practise certain virtues and hard to practise others, and every one argues in favour of the virtue which he practises easily, and tries to exaggerate the difficulties of the virtues which are contrary to it. There were ten virgins, and only five of them had the oil of sweet mercy and mildness. This equableness of humour, this gentleness and sweetness of heart, is rarer than perfect chastity; but it is all the more desirable for that. I recommend it to you, my dear daughter, because to it as to the oil of the lamp is attached the flame of good example, nothing giving so much edification as sweetness of charity.
Hold the balance duly amongst your daughters, so that natural gifts may not make you distribute your affections and kindness unjustly. How many disagreeable persons are there who are very agreeable in the eyes of God. Beauty, gracefulness, the gift of speaking well, often present great attractions to those who live according to their inclinations; charity regards true virtue, and the beauty of the heart, and spreads itself over all without distinction.
Go, then, my daughter, to the work for which God has raised you up; he will be on your right hand, so that no difficulty may shake you; he will henceforth hold you, so that you may follow his way. Have a courage not only great, but one that will hold out and endure; and to have it, ask it often of him who alone can give it; he will give it you if in simplicity of heart you correspond with grace. Love and peace, and the consolation of the Holy Spirit, be for ever in your soul. Amen.
P.S.—You are my daughter, and with paternal dilection I give you the holy benediction of God. Blessed may you be in going, in staying, in serving God, in serving your neighbour, in humbling yourself down to your nothingness, in keeping yourself within yourself; may God be entirely your all.
B-II/26. To Mother Favre, at Lyons: Exhortation to charity and union.
10th September 1616.
This dear granddaughter who does not write, does she not deserve to be herself left in silence? But my affection does not allow it. And what shall I say to you then, my dear daughter? I recommend to you confidence in God, perfect simplicity and sincere dilection.
You have there those poor sisters, who are under your responsibility, and depend on your help in the advancement of your undertaking, for which they have come to you; unite your hearts and feeble strength, for by union you will get invincible strength.
Our mother will tell you, perhaps, if she has leisure for it, my fear lest the little foxes enter the vineyard to destroy it;[32] I mean aversions and repugnances which are the temptations of the Saints. Suffocate them in their birth. Make yours a united charity, and suspect all that shall be contrary to union, to support of one another, to the mutual esteem which you should have together.
Beware of human prudence, which Our Saviour reckons foolishness, and work in peace, in sweetness, in confidence, in simplicity. As soon as you have done what you have to do, it will be well to finish off your own private business. Live all of you in the bowels of divine charity, my dearest daughter, to whom I am with all my heart yours, &c.
B-II/27. To a Religious Priest: Reasons why the Saint prefers the little Office to the great Office for the Visitation: he desires to be commanded to establish a seminary.
1617. [?]
My Reverend Father—The case of the Ladies of the Visitation at Rome consists in this point, that it would please His Holiness to allow them not to be obliged to say the great Office, for the following reasons:
1. There is no nation in the world in which women pronounce Latin so badly as in France, and especially here; and it would be impossible to make them properly learn the pronunciation of the whole great Office, whereas it would be easy to teach it them for the little Office of Our Lady, and, in fact, they pronounce it very well already.
2. In this congregation it is desired to receive sisters of delicate constitution, and those who for lack of bodily strength cannot be received into more austere religious Orders. Now those who are obliged to the great Office, if they want to say it distinctly and deliberately, cannot do so without effort, and if they say it quickly and fluently, make themselves ridiculous and lose devotion. Wherefore, it is more becoming that those who for want of corporal strength could not say it composedly, should say only the little Office.
3. There is an example at Paris, where the Sisters of St. Ursula, Religious of the three solemn vows, say only the little Office.
4. The Sisters of the Visitation have many spiritual exercises which they could not do if they said the great Office.
I had thought of naming to you the other points, but I remember that the Father Procurator General has them at great length. I must tell you that the rules for which approbation is asked are all according to the rule of St. Augustine, except as to absolute enclosure, which St. Augustine had not established, but to which the sisters wish to bind themselves, according to the sacred Council of Trent. Perhaps the Holy See will appoint some one here, some Regular prelates and other theologians, to revise, correct, and approve them.
I do not see that there is need to inform you of anything else on the subject, except that as to the monastery of this city, seeing that its Church is consecrated under the title of the Visitation of Our Lady and of the glorious St. Joseph, it would be desirable to get a plenary indulgence for this last day, and for the title days of the other houses and monasteries of this Congregation, besides the indulgence of the day of the Visitation, which is the general title of the Congregation.
My Lord of Lyons is there, who, if he pleases, has power to favour the business; and I think it will please him to do so, because he has in his metropolitan city a house of the Visitation where God is greatly honoured.
But, my reverend Father, we must treat all things quietly and with circumspection; which I say because some ecclesiastics who are austere and exact in their own practice, have given certain signs that they were not satisfied that there should be in this congregation so little austerity and penitential rigour: but the end must always be kept in view, which is to be able to receive maidens and women who are weakly, whether by age or in constitution.
I also desire to obtain a letter from the Congregation of Bishops, addressed to me and to the clergy of this diocese, by which it should be enjoined upon me to erect a seminary for those who aspire to the ecclesiastical state, where they can be trained in the ceremonies, to catechise and preach, to sing, and to other such clerical qualifications; for we have some, besides little children, who want to be ecclesiastics, and who study for no other end. I want the clergy to be included in the letter in order to be able to impose some little tax on the benefices for the purpose. The Council of Trent would suffice, but to apply it more efficaciously the above letter would be required. I am, your &c.
B-II/28. To Mother Favre, at Lyons: On the change of the Visitation from a Congregation into an Order; entire detachment of the Saint.
October 1617 [?].
My very dear Daughter—If my Lord Archbishop says to you what he has written to me, you must answer him that you have been left there to serve in the establishing of your Congregation with all your poor strength, that you will try to guide your sisters well according to the rules of the Congregation, that if it please God after this that the Congregation change its name, state, and condition you will refer yourself to his good pleasure, to which the whole Congregation is entirely consecrated; add that in whatever way God may be served in the society in which you now serve him you will be content.
And in effect, my dear daughter, there must be that spirit in our Congregation; for it is the perfect and apostolic spirit. And if it could be useful for establishing some other Congregations of good servants of God, without ever establishing itself, it would only be all the more agreeable to God, for it would have less ground of self-love. On the points which he proposes to me, without which he does not will to establish our poor Congregation in his diocese, I leave him the choice without any reserve. It is entirely indifferent whether the good of this Congregation be done in this way or in that other, although I should have found a special sweetness in the title of simple Congregation, where charity alone and fear of the Beloved would serve as enclosure.
I agree, then, that we should make a formal Religious Order; and, my dear daughter—I speak to you with the entire simplicity and confidence of my heart—I make this acquiescence with quietness and tranquillity, yea, with an unparalleled sweetness; and not only my will but my judgment is very glad to render the homage which it owes to that of this great and worthy prelate.
For, my daughter, what do I aim at in all this save that God may be glorified, and that his holy love may be spread abroad more plentifully in the heart of those souls who are so happy as to dedicate themselves entirely to God? Be sure, my dear daughter, that I have a perfect love for our poor little Congregation; but without anxiety. Without anxiety, indeed, love does not ordinarily subsist, but mine, which is not ordinary, lives, I assure you, entirely without it, through a particular confidence which I have in the grace of Our Lord. His sovereign hand will do more for this little Institute than men can think. And I am, more than you could believe, yours.
For the rest, what will you say about our domestic afflictions? It is not the dear sister-in-law de Thorens that you saw, it is quite another sister whom we have seen dying lately. For from about a year ago she became so perfect that she could no longer be recognised, but, above all, since her widowhood, when she vowed herself to the Visitation. And, Oh! what an end she made! Certainly the most holy, most sweet, and most dear that could be imagined. I loved her with a love far greater than fraternal; but as it has pleased the Lord so be it done: may his holy name be blessed. Amen.
B-II/29. To the Sisters of the Visitation at Annecy: Excellence of the religious state as compared with a secular life: they are to be spiritual bees.
Grenoble, 5th March 1617.[33]
Could my soul ever forget the dear children of its womb? No, my very dear daughters, my dear joy and my crown, you know it well, I am certain; and your hearts will well have answered for me that if I have not written to you till now, it is only because writing to our good mother, the mother of all, I knew well that I wrote to you no less than to her, by that sweet and salutary union which your souls have with hers; and because, moreover, the holy love which we reciprocally bear one another is written, methinks, in such great characters in our hearts that one can very nearly read our thoughts here from Annecy.
I am with rather more people than when I am in my ordinary dwelling near you; and the more I see of this miserable world the more displeasing it is to me, and I think that I could not live in it if the serving some good souls in the advancement of their salvation did not give me some relief.
Oh! my dear daughters, how much more happy I find the bees, who leave not their hive except for gathering honey, and are only collected together to compose it, who have no striving but for that, and whose striving is according to order, and who do nothing in their houses and monasteries save the sweet-smelling work of honey and of wax.
How much more happy are they than those libertine wasps and insects, which flying so aimlessly and more readily to unclean things than to clean, seem to live only to annoy other animals and give them pain, while giving themselves a perpetual disquiet and useless solicitude. They fly everywhere buzzing, sucking, and stinging while their summer and their autumn last; and come winter, they find themselves without a refuge, without provision, and without life;—while our chaste bees, which have as the object of their sight, of their smell, of their taste, only the beauty, perfume, and sweetness of the flowers spread out for them, have, besides the nobleness of their occupation, a very delightful retreat, an agreeable provision, and a contented life, amidst the stores of their past labour.
And those souls in love with our Saviour, who follow him in the Gospel as far as the desert heights, make there on the grass and flowers a more delicious feast than ever those did who enjoyed the sumptuous service of Ahasuerus, where abundance choked enjoyment, because it was an abundance of meats and of men.
Live joyous, my dear daughters, amongst your holy occupations. When the air is cloudy, amid dryness and aridities, work within your heart by the practice of holy humility and abjection; when it is fine, bright, and clear, go make your spiritual expeditions on to the hills of Calvary, of Olivet, of Sion, and of Thabor. From the desert mountain where our Saviour feeds his dear flock to-day, fly up to the summit of the eternal mount of heaven, and see the immortal delights which are there prepared for your hearts.
Ah! how happy are these well-beloved hearts of my daughters, in having given up some years of the false liberty of the world in order to enjoy eternally that desirable slavery in which no liberty is taken away save that which hinders us from being truly free.
May God bless you, my dear daughters, and make you advance more and more in the love of his divine eternity, in which we hope to enjoy the infinitude of his favours in return for this little but true fidelity which in so slight a thing as is this present life, we will observe, by help of his grace. May the dilection of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost be for ever in the midst of your hearts, and may the bosom of Our Lady be our refuge for ever. Amen. 1st April 1610.[34]
God has done me the favour of having been able to write all at one breath, though almost without breathing, these four little words to my dear daughters, who, placed together like flowers in a bouquet, are delicious to the Mother of the “Flower of Jesse,” and flower of mothers. Ah! Lord, may it be unto an odour of sweetness. Amen, Amen. Vive Jesus, in whom I am your most affectionate servant.
B-II/30. To a Religious of the Visitation: On the obligation of her vows, and on expulsion from religious Orders.
About 1618.[35]
Your vows, my dear daughter, are as strong as the vows of all Orders of religion in the obligation by which they bind the conscience of the sisters to their observance. It is true, however, that a sister who desires to lose her soul and her honour can marry after the vows, and so could the most-strictly professed one in France if she wanted to be lost, and to make use of the Edict of pacification. The formulary of your vows is made according to those of like congregations in Italy, and much more expresses the force of the obligation than do most of the formularies of the Rule of St. Benedict.
The vow of chastity is fundamental, according to the ancient Fathers, in monasteries of women, and the others are not less essential.
It is true, one can be dispensed from simple vows, and from the others also—though more easily from those than from these—but not without grave occasion, and when it is expedient. Here the Jesuit Fathers are in an extremely good position, and maintain the lustre of their most illustrious Company by this means, which the world does not approve, but God and the Church do highly: and all religious Orders in ancient times were of that kind, solemnity of vows having been established but a few hundreds of years.
Expulsion has always existed among the ancient religious; it is a necessary rigour. To expel a sister because she would not observe silence would not be done for not observing silence, but for an obstinate will of troubling and overthrowing the order of the Congregation, and contemning the Holy Spirit, who has ordained silence in religious houses. And if one expel not for obstinate disobedience and conscious contempt of the Order, I do not know what one will expel for. In a word, religious, even those most solemnly so, expel; at any rate, we see religious expelled from the Order of St. Francis, even from the Capuchins; and the Jesuit Fathers, who are so cautious and prudent, expel for disobediences, if these are even a little cherished and clung to.
The extension of the novitiate for a good reason is not contrary to the Council [of Trent], as those have declared who have the office of explaining it; and theologians also so understand the case. In fact the Carmelites do it as seems expedient.
If these good gentlemen had studied and thought as much before censuring as we have in establishing, we should not have so many objections. Well, God be praised; I hope that everybody will soon be pacified, through the conclusion that will be made at Rome. My dear daughter, for God’s sake have good courage; it is for him also that you live and labour. May he be ever blessed and glorified. Amen. If those who make this objection are persons of study, they can read Leonard Lessius, Jesuit, where they will find what is wanted.
B-II/31. To a Superioress of the Visitation: The Visitation not founded for the education of young girls.
23rd January 1618.
My dear Daughter—We must remain at peace in what God disposes and ordains; we on our part have done so to-day; at seven in the morning we lost for this life the good Father Dom Simplician, and at three the good M. de Sainte Catherine, two great servants of God, while there was scarcely a single person ill in this city. O heavenly Providence! without scrutinising the effects you cause, I adore and embrace them with all my heart, and acquiesce in all the events which proceed from them by your will.
My dear daughter, you must entirely avoid receiving girls before the age; because God has not chosen your institute for the education of little girls, but for the perfection of matrons and maidens who at such an age as to be able to discern what they are doing are called thereto; and not only experience but reason teaches us that such young girls placed under the discipline of a monastery, too much out of proportion with their childishness, dislike it and receive it reluctantly; and if they afterwards desire to take the habit it is not from the true and pure motive which the sanctity of the institute requires. And it does not follow that what is done for one time must be done at other times, any more than it follows that when a man has burdened himself with a just charge for one friend, he must overburden himself with a second charge for a second friend; and those who would be friends of our institute will have patience till their children are of suitable age.
O my dear daughter, how inconsistent are the thoughts of men! How many cry out when we take their children grown up, mature and settled, and how many would wish to give them from the cradle!
B-II/32. To a Superioress of the Visitation: A Superior must be weak with the weak: consolation to be drawn from the thought of God’s providence and of heavenly rewards.
19th February 1618.
I see you, my dear daughter, quite ill and suffering over the illnesses and pains of your daughters. One cannot be a mother without pangs. Who is weak, says the Apostle,[36] and I am not weak with him? And our ancient Fathers say upon this, that hens are always in distress while they are rearing their chickens, and that it is this which makes them continually utter their cries, and that it was so with the Apostle.
My dear daughter, who are also my grand-daughter, the Apostle also said[37] that when he was weak then he was strong, for that the power of God is made perfect in infirmity. And you then, my daughter, be very strong amid the afflictions of your house. These long maladies are good schools of charity for those who help in them, and of loving patience for those who have them; for the first are at the foot of the cross with Our Lady and St. John, whose compassion they imitate, and the others are on the cross with Our Lord, whose Passion they imitate.
As to the sister of whom you write to me, God will make you take the proper course. This sweetness in suffering is a sort of presage of future abundant favours of Our Lord in this soul, wherever she may go or dwell. Salute, I beg you, these two daughters tenderly from me, for it is so I love them.
Meanwhile, if it is found proper to send back this novice, it must be done with all the charity possible, and God will bring everything to his glory. God keeps[38] and blesses the goings out as well as the comings in of those who do all things for him, and who do not occasion their own goings out by their ill conduct. His Providence thus makes us will the sacrifice which it afterwards does not let us make, as we see in Abraham. And methinks I say something about this in the book of “The Love of God,” but I do not call to mind where.[39]
So enlarge your heart, my dear daughter, amid tribulations; increase your courage, and see the great Saviour bending down from high heaven towards you, watching how you walk in these tempests, and by a thread of his invisible Providence holding your heart and steadying it, so that he may ever keep it to himself. My dear daughter, you are a spouse, not as yet of Jesus Christ glorified, but of Jesus Christ crucified; for which cause the rings, the rich chains and the ornaments which he gives you, and which he wants you to wear, are crosses, nails, and thorns, and the marriage-feast is gall, hyssop, and vinegar. In heaven above we shall have the rubies, diamonds, and emeralds, the wine, manna, and honey. I do not say this, no indeed, my dear granddaughter, as if I thought you to be discouraged, but because I think you are suffering, and I feel I ought to mingle my sighs with yours, as I feel my soul to be mingled with yours. Do not tell me that you abuse my kindness when you write me long letters; for truly I always love them and find them sweet.
This good Father says that I am a flower, a vase of flowers, and a phoenix; but in reality I am but a corruptible man, a crow, a dunghill. And still love me well, my dear daughter, for God ceases not to love me or to give me extraordinary desires of serving and loving him purely and holily. In fact, after all, we are too blessed in being able to aspire to an eternity of glory by the merits of the Passion of Our Lord, who makes a trophy of our misery to convert it into his mercy, to which be honour and glory for ever and ever. Amen. I am yours, my dear daughter, you know it well; I say yours, after an incomparable manner.
B-II/33. To Mother de Chantal: The Saint’s extreme affection for her. The only aim of a Christian’s life should be to give it more and more entirely to his Saviour.
March 1618 [Grenoble?].
My dear Daughter—This night during my wakeful times I have had a thousand good thoughts for my sermons; but strength has failed me to bring them forth. God knows all, and I direct all to his greater glory, and adoring his Providence I remain at peace. There is no help for it: I must do what I will not, and the good which I will I do not.[40] I am here in the midst of preachings and of a large audience, larger than I thought; but if I do nothing here it will be little consolation to me.
Believe that meantime I think at every moment of you and of your soul, for which I incessantly express my desires before God and his Angels, that it may be more filled with the abundance of his graces. My dearest daughter, what ardour do I seem to have for your advancement in most holy celestial love, to which, while celebrating this morning, I have again dedicated and offered you, mentally lifting you up in my arms as one does little children, and big ones, too, when one is strong enough to lift them. Behold something of what imaginations our heart makes on these occasions. Truly I am pleased with it, that it should thus employ all things for the sweetness of its incomparable affection, referring them to holy things.
I have not failed to make a special memento of your dear husband deceased. Ah! what a happy exchange you made that day, embracing the state of perfect resignation, in which with such consolation I found you! And your soul, taking a Spouse of so high a condition, has reason indeed to find an extreme joy in the commemoration of the hour of your betrothal to him. And so it is true, my dear daughter, that our unity is wholly consecrated to the sovereign unity; and I feel with ever increasing force the reality of the union of our hearts, which will truly keep me from ever forgetting you until after, and long after, I have forgotten myself to fasten myself so much the better to the cross. I am going to try to keep you ever exalted permanently on the throne which God has given you in my heart, a throne based upon the cross.
For the rest, my dear daughter, go on establishing ever more and more your good purposes, your holy resolutions; deepen more and more your consideration of the wounds of Our Lord, where you will find an abyss of reasons which will confirm you in your generous undertaking, and will make you feel how vain and low is the heart which makes elsewhere its dwelling, or which builds on other tree than that of the cross. O my God! how happy shall we be if we live and die in this holy tabernacle! No, nothing, nothing of the world is worthy of our love: it is all due to this Saviour who has given us all his own.
In truth, I have had great sentiments, these last days, of the infinite obligations which I have to God; and with a thousand emotions of sweetness I have again resolved to serve him with the greatest fidelity I can, and to keep my soul more continually in his divine presence; and with all this I feel in myself a certain joyfulness, not impetuous, but methinks efficacious, at undertaking this mine amendment. Shall you not be very glad, my dear daughter, if one day you see me well fitted for the service of Our Lord? Yes, my dear daughter, because our interior goods are inseparably and wholly united. You wish me perpetually many graces; and as for me, with incomparable ardour I pray God to make you quite absolutely his own.
God knows, most dear daughter of my soul, how gladly I would wish to die for the love of my Saviour! But, at least, if I cannot die for it, may I live for it alone. My daughter, I am greatly pressed; what more can I say to you save—may this same God bless you with his great benediction.
Adieu, my dear daughter; press closely this dear Crucified One to your bosom. I beseech him to clasp and unite you more and more to himself. Adieu, again, my dear daughter: behold I am far advanced into the night, but still further in the consolation which I have in imagining sweet Jesus seated on your heart. I pray him to stay there for ever and for ever. Adieu, yet once more, my good, my dear daughter, whom I cherish beyond compare in Our Lord, who liveth and reigneth world without end. Amen. Vive Jésus!
B-II/34. To a Religious Priest: Religious exercises by which the Sisters of the Visitation supply for not saying the great Office.
26th April 1618.
My Reverend Father—As to the question which that good gentleman of whom you write to me asks, about the occupations of the Sisters of the Visitation, in case they do not say the great Office, there are two things to say.
(1.) Since they say the little Office solemnly and with pauses, they employ as much time as most other religious women give to saying the great Office, with this difference only, that they say it with more edification and better pronunciation than the latter. Certainly, a week ago in a monastery near this city, I saw things which might well make the Huguenots laugh; and some of the nuns told me they never had less devotion than at Office, where they managed always to commit plenty of faults, partly from not knowing the accents and quantities, partly from not knowing the rubrics, or again from the haste with which they were obliged to say it; and they declared it to be impossible for them, amid so many distracting things, to keep their attention. I do not, however, mean to say that they are to be dispensed, unless when the Holy See, taking compassion on them, shall think it good. But, at the same time, I do mean to say that there is no impropriety but much advantage in leaving to the Visitation the little Office alone. In fact, my Reverend Father, this little Office is the life of devotion in the Visitation.
(2.) The second answer is that in the Visitation there is not a single moment which is not most usefully employed in prayer, examination of conscience, spiritual reading, and other exercises. I am sure that the Holy See will favour this work, which is against neither the law nor the religious state, and which acquires it so many houses of obedience at a time and in a kingdom where it has lost so many; and since also there is not so much to be considered with regard to houses of women, inasmuch as they are of no consequence to the other Orders, nor can be occasion of complaint to nuns founded under other statutes. Solely the consideration of the greater glory of God gives me this desire, and the advantage of many souls capable of excellently serving his divine Majesty in this congregation, if charged only with the little Office, while incapable of following the great Office. Will it not be a thing worthy of Christianity that there should be a place whither these poor daughters can retire, who have the heart strong but the eyes and constitution weak? For the rest, my Reverend Father, labour diligently to make the work of your seminary succeed, for in my opinion it will be necessary in the future. Your friend and servant, &c.
B-II/35. To a Superioress of the Visitation: On longanimity and resignation. The excellence of founding a religious house: privileges of founders.
Annecy, 19th August 1618.
Tell me, my dear daughter, what is your heart doing? It is, I assure myself, more brave than usual in this holy Octave, in which we celebrate the triumphs of our Queen, in whose protection our spirit reposes and our little congregation breathes. O my daughter, we must keep this heart uplifted, nor suffer that any accident of dryness, anxiety, or weariness cast it down, for although such may separate it from the sensible consolation of charity, yet can they not separate it from real charity, which is God’s sovereign grace to us during this mortal life. Our imperfections in treating affairs, whether interior or exterior, are a great subject of humility, and humility produces and nourishes generosity.
But what privilege have founders before God? Their privileges are great, because they share after a special way in all the good things done in the monastery and by occasion of the monastery. It is a work of charity almost the most excellent that one can do; much greater, without doubt, than to build a hospital, receive pilgrims, support orphans. But before men there is no further privilege than that of being supported and assisted and honoured in the monastery, in which secular foundresses generally obtain the right of entrance, and after death particular benefits.
But this daughter, desirous to be a religious, will, I am sure, assert her privilege, as far as she is concerned, by obeying better than the rest, and by making the best progress she can in humility, purity of heart, sweetness, modesty, and obedience; since the privilege of true religious is to abound in the love of the heavenly Beloved.
For the rest, I rejoice that this daughter makes so good an election, and that quitting men’s love, so little lovely, she consecrates herself to the most lovely love of her God, the true Spouse of noble souls.
B-II/36. To a Superioress of the Visitation: On the freedom of spiritual communications.
Paris, 21st January 1619.
My dear Daughter—As to the matters which you name to me, the rule as to the extraordinary confessor must not be altered, nor must any one trouble weak sisters who want to communicate with the extraordinary more than four times a year; but it behoves that if the sisters have not the confidence to ask to speak to him, he himself should have it to speak to them sometimes; and if he have it not you must give it him, if he be a father who can receive it.
For as a just liberty of communication must be provided for the sisters, so must they be kept in the rule of simplicity and humility; and it is not reasonable that the weakness of some should cause extraordinary confessions to be multiplied for all the congregation, and should put the poor ordinary confessor in grief and distress.
In short, if each sister is to be free to believe in her interior inclinations, submission and union will cease, and with it the congregation—which God forbid. Those, then, who want to confer extraordinarily let them do so in the spirit of a sweet liberty; let them confess if they like while making their communication, without urging the rest to the same desire, and without artfully leading them to imitate themselves.
Here, we are trying to overcome the temptations aroused against the introduction of the Visitation, and hope that we shall do so. May God bless you! Your very affectionate father and servant in Jesus Christ, &c.
B-II/37. To Mother de Chantal: The weak to be corrected with mildness.
How glad I am, my dear mother, of the good news of your health! May the great God, whom my poor soul and yours will to serve for ever, be blessed and praised, and may he deign to fortify more and more this dear health, which we have dedicated to his infinite holiness. But meantime the heart, how is it in you? Ah! my dear mother, what blessings do I desire it! When will our love, triumphing above all our affections and thoughts, make us wholly united to the sovereign love of Our Saviour, to which ours incessantly aspires? Yes, my dearest mother, it aspires incessantly, though for the greater part of the time insensibly. I was truly much disappointed this morning that I had to leave my work just as there had come to me a certain fulness of the sentiments which we shall have on the sight of God in Paradise—for I was going to write on that in our little book[41]—and now I have them no more. Still, as I only turned from them to go and receive the pledges of this same sight in the holy Mass, I hope they will come back to me when the time requires. O my dear and sole mother, may we perfectly love this divine object, who prepares for us so much sweetness in heaven! Let us be indeed all his, and walk night and day amongst thorns and roses till we arrive at that heavenly Jerusalem.
The granddaughter walks by a very safe way, provided that its roughness does not discourage her. The easiest ways do not always lead us the most directly nor the most safely; one is so occupied sometimes with the pleasure that one finds there, and with looking on one side and the other at the pleasing prospects, that one forgets in this to be diligent in the journey. I must be brief. Look at this note which was sent me this morning; and as I have not seen this poor creature, and you will see her before me, I thought I should do well to send it to you. Alas! my dear mother, what harm does vanity do to these poor little souls, who do not know themselves, and place themselves in risks! But still, as you know, while remonstrating earnestly you must use love and sweetness; for admonitions have a better effect so, and otherwise one might drive away these somewhat feeble hearts. Only I do not know how you will be able to say that you do not know of the quarrel. Well, God will inspire into our heart what to say on this point, as I beg him to do, as likewise to inspire me what to preach to-night. I write amid many distractions. Good night, my dear mother. I am, your very affectionate servant in Jesus Christ.
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[1] Col. 3:3.
[2] Gal. 2:20.
[3] Adoption? [Tr.]
[4] Gen. 12:1.
[5] Ibid.22.
[6] Acts 9:6.
[7] Referring, apparently, to some medicine which Mother de Chantal was taking. Afterwards the Saint speaks of the tablet of Holy Communion which she was to take next day, and plays on the words table, tablette (table, little table). [Tr.]
[8] Animæ. Matt. 6:25.
[9][9] 1. Kings 18:1.
[10] Cant. 1:12.
[11] Isa. 38:17.
[12] Gal. 4:1.
[13] The French has this date. The letter, however, seems to belong to a much later time, say 1615. or 1616. . [Tr.]
[14] Matt. 5:3.
[15] Should this be 1613? Sister C. F. Roget (No. 6. ) is stated to have died 14th June 1613. . [Tr.]
[16] Gen. 17:1.
[17] The French says, “End of January;” but the house at Lyons was only founded on 2nd February. [ Tr.]
[18] Acts 15.
[19] Ecclus. 18:6.
[20] Heb. 4:12.
[21] 2. Cor. 10:18.
[22] The French says, “Second day of Lent, or 26th February 1615. .” In this year Ash Wednesday was 4th March. [Tr.]
[23] His brother’s wife, Madame de Thorens, daughter of Mother de Chantal.
[24] Matt. 5:10.
[25] Rom. 8:35.
[26] John 20.
[27] Eccles. 34:9.
[28] The older editions of the French text put simply “To a Sister of the Visitation.” Letter XXI has the same date as this letter. [Tr.]
[29] The French has “about December 1615. .” [Tr.]
[30] Day to day uttereth the word, Ps. 18:2.
[31] The French says “about the end of 1615. .”[Tr.]
[32] Cant. 2:15.
[33] The French has “1st April 1616. .” The year is certainly wrong. The Saint preached the Lent at Grenoble in 1617. . He speaks of the feeding the multitude as the Gospel of “to-day.” This Gospel is read on fourth Sunday of Lent, which in 1617. was 5th March. [Tr.]
[34] So the printed text, clearly by mistake. The Visitation was not then founded. See previous note. [Tr.]
[35] The French has no date. [Tr.].
[36] 2. Cor. 11:29.
[37] 2. Cor. 12:9. , 10.
[38] Ps. 120:8.
[39] Bk. ix. 6. . [Tr.]
[40] Rom. 7:19.
[41] The Treatise on the Love of God. [Tr.]
