Letter 1180. To Mother Louise Dorothée de Marigny

I have just done your bidding, my most dear daughter, and written a note to our sisters, but I cannot manage so much writing. I am surprised that you should complain of so rarely hearing from me, considering that this is the fifth letter I have written to you this year. But what astonishes me far more, beloved daughter, is that you have recourse to little reasonings to find out motives for something which does not exist, thinking that it is because I care so little for you or because you do not communicate your affairs freely enough to me. Oh, daughter dearest! I can easily see from whence it all proceeds. It is from nothing except your passionate affection which causes a certain over-eagerness and disturbs your equanimity. There is really no need for you to communicate your affairs to me in detail; it would overtax me to read about them. It is quite enough if you mention in general terms the chief things concerning your progress, since you think my poor opinion may be useful to you when you have time to reflect on it. Beyond that, do quite confidently what you judge most fitting.

It consoles me to hear that contradictions do not upset you, knowing that they must come in this life, for verily, dearest daughter, it is full of them and to encounter them is good fortune for us, provided we improve the occasion as

God means us to do. Be very generous and keep your mind above all that is not God, and very humble and submissive to His divine guidance. Take no heed of anything but Him, and commit yourself unceasingly into the hands of His loving-kindness and His divine good pleasure. Watch jealously this tenderness of sentiment in regard to me and for all that you have quitted here, and do not permit it in the sisters, for all that is nothing in comparison to the honour and favour God has done us in enabling us to give up all for His love and to the holy joy of it, one little taste of which is worth more than all the delights of this life and than all that silly creatures could provide. But for all that, it would give me great consolation to see you once more in this life. However, God’s holy will be done.

Oh! I beseech you, do not let me hear you say any more that I do not care about you, and only sometimes give you a thought. Far from that: my heart could never lose one iota of the holy, complete, most cordial and sincere affection which God has given me for you, and which you know holds quite a special place in my heart, far beyond what I feel for most others. Never doubt this, I beseech of you, and pray fervently to Our Lord that He will have mercy on me. I beg of Him to unite us perfectly in Him. God be praised. Amen.

Yours, yours—what shall I say >—absolutely yours.