Second Letter

To the Reverend Mother

My Reverend Mother,— I have taken this opportunity to communicate to you the thoughts of one of our Society, concerning the wonderful effect and continual succour which he receives from the Presence of God. Let you and me both profit by them.

You must know that during the forty years *9 and more that he has spent in religion, his continual care has been to be always with God; and to do nothing, say nothing, and think nothing which may displease Him; and this without any other view than purely for the love of Him, and because He deserves infinitely more.

He is now so accustomed to that Divine Presence, that he receives from it continual succour upon all occasions. For above thirty years, his soul has been filled with joys so continual and sometimes so transcendent, that he is forced to use means to moderate them and to prevent their appearing outwardly.

If sometimes he is a little too much absent from that Divine Presence, which happens often when he is most engaged in his outward business, God presently makes Himself felt in his soul to recall him. He answers with exact fidelity to these inward drawings, either by an elevation of his heart towards God, or by a meek and loving regard to Him, or by such words as love forms upon these occasions, as for instance, My God, behold me, wholly Thine: LORD, make me according to Thy heart. And then it seems to him (as in effect he feels it) that this God of love, satisfied with such few words, reposes again and rests in the depth and centre of his soul. The experience of these things gives him such 3 ° an assurance that God is always deep within his soul, that no doubt of it can arise, whatever may betide.

Judge from this what contentment and satisfaction he enjoys, feeling continually within him so great a treasure: no longer is he in anxious search after it, but he has it open before him, free to take of it what he pleases.

He complains much of our blindness and exclaims often that we are to be pitied, who content ourselves with so little. God’s treasure, he says, is like an infinite ocean, yet a little wave of feeling, passing with the moment, contents us. Blind as we are, we hinder God, and stop the current of His graces. But when He finds a soul permeated with a living faith, He pours into it His graces and His favours plenteously; into the soul they flow like a torrent ’, which, after being forcibly stopped against its ordinary course, when it has found a passage, spreads with impetuosity its pent-up flood.

Yes, often we stop this torrent, by the little value we set upon it. But let us stop it no longer: let us enter into ourselves and break down the barrier which holds it back. Let us make the most of the day of grace, let us redeem the time that is lost, perhaps we have but little left to us: death follows close, let us be well prepared; for we die but once, and a miscarriage then is irretrievable.

3i

I say again, let us enter into ourselves. Time presses: there is no room for delay, our souls are at stake. You, I believe, have taken such effectual measures, that you will not be surprised. I commend you for it, it is the one thing needful: we must, nevertheless, always labour at it; for, in the spiritual life, not to advance is to go back. But those whose spirits are stirred by the breath of the Holy Spirit go forward, even in sleep. If the bark of our soul is still tossed with the winds and the storms, let us awake the Lord, Who reposes in it, and quickly He will calm the sea.

I have taken the liberty to impart to you these good thoughts, that you may compare them with your own. They will serve to rekindle and inflame them, if by misfortune (which God forbid, for it would be indeed a great evil) they should, though never so little, be somewhat cooled. Let us then both recall our early fervour. Let us profit by the example and thoughts of this brother, who is little known of the world, but known of God, and in untold measure caressed by Him. I will pray for you, do you pray very instantly for him, who is, in OUR Lord, — Yours, etc,

June 1 st, 1682.

y Google