Letter 1364. To Mother Anne Marguerite Guérin

In as far as God gives me the power I will willingly help you, for you are one of my most dear and most valued daughters, on whom I depend as much as on myself for the preservation of the Institute. Ah! what precious treasures are capable superiors! Upon their guidance, my daughter, after God, all the good of this poor little yet deserving Congregation depends; and in their hands is its maintenance or its ruin. So, daughter, we must earnestly invoke God that He may be pleased always to give us superiors who have the true spirit of our holy vocation, and zeal to impart it and to preserve it. Strive carefully to mould to our manner of life those of the souls God gives you who have talents suitable for government. None of the sisters whom you have taken from Paris are, to my thinking, suitable, full of good desires though they be—Sister T. F. no more than the others, since she does not overcome herself by mortifying her passions and inclinations—for, alas! there is no living in this charge save by the spirit of our vocation, which is no other than virtue and heavenly-given judgment. This it is that imparts so sweet a fragrance to a house that it becomes loved, esteemed, and sought after for its good odour,

I am most willing that you should communicate to these good souls what you consider necessary and useful. Charity gives freely. You are quite right not to be in a hurry to take subjects.

Alas! they are always wanting something new, and we have in the Institute already everything desirable for its preservation and for its growth in all perfection,

Your fear of the plague is a pure suffering from God; and since it is from Him you must sweetly acquiesce without trying to overcome it, nor lingeringly think about it, although it is there all the time. My eyes are ever towards the Lord (said David), for He shall pluck my feet out of the snare,' and deliver me from the ambush of my enemies. And what he says is true. The divine Master guides us along a road wherein we are stripped of ourselves, humbled, and all self-satisfaction put to death in us. His wish is that we should walk as the blind walk, under His divine protection and led by Him. There is no need for you to do anything save to follow the inspirations He gives you and to repose in His goodness.

Our dear Sister F. M. loves and esteems you greatly. She has a good heart, and I am fond of her notwithstanding these little unaccountable drawbacks of hers, which are insupportable.

Yes, they are urging me greatly to go to Paris and to withdraw Sister M. J. Favre from there. I think of doing so, and of bringing her with me on my return to serve our house at Chambéry. Her grave maladies have, no doubt, caused all these vexatious rumours. People do not sufficiently take them into consideration, and certainly it takes mighty little foundation to make gossiping tongues fabricate fine tales. But God, who has permitted it all, will draw His glory out of it. She is a worthy and altogether virtuous sister, but no one is perfect—mais nul de parfait. You know her. If we were together we should discuss all this; but as we cannot meet, reflect, I beg of you, on what you have seen, and write to me candidly about it, for I shall accept what you tell me, and I cannot believe that things are half as bad as people say. After all, we must have the Cross, and there is good init. [The rest is illegible. ]¹

Footnotes

1. Psalm xxiv. 15. ↩