Letter XVII. To the Same

Sympathy on the death of her father. Importance of exterior observance: the best way to treat thoughts of vanity: on doing everything in a composed manner: the Saint praises her for manifesting her defects: on distractions in prayer.

ANNECY, $th February 1620.

O MY dear daughter, what can I say to you on this decease? Our good mother of the Visitation has given me the news of it; but at the same time she writes to me that she had seen Madame your mother, and my dear daughter your sister Catherine of Genoa, brave, resolute, and full of courage, and that M. de Belley had received letters from you by which you testified to him your steadiness on this occasion. I did not doubt, my dear daughter, that God had a care of your heart in these occurrences, or that if he wounded it with one hand he applied his balm with the other; he strikes and he heals; lie killeth and maketh alive;* and so long as we can lift up our eyes and look at celestial Providence grief cannot oppress us. It is enough then, my dearest daughter; God and your good Angel having consoled you I no longer try to do so: your bitterest bitterness is in peacc.'f In what measure God draws to himself, one by one, the treasures which our heart had here below, that is, what we love, he draws with them our heart itself, and " since I have no longer a father on earth," said St. Francis, " I will say more

• I Kings ii. 6. t Isa. xxxviii. 17.

freely: Our Father who art in heaven." Courage, my daughter, all is ours and we are God's.

I have said Mass for this soul, and every day celebrate with a particular memory of it before God. But, my daughter — and our sisters, Catherine of Genoa, Anne and Marie, what are they doing, poor things? They are constant, are they not, for they are our sisters? Of M. d'Andilly and of M. Arnauld, my son, there can be no doubt. Certainly when I remember how M. d'Andilly spoke to me of his little Francis, I am further comforted. The peace of God be ever in our hearts. Amen.

I now answer your two last letters of the ipth November and the I4th December. It is true, I am extraordinarily burdened with affairs, but your letters, my daughter, are not business, they are refreshment and solace to my soul; let this be said once for all.

It is a great thing that exteriorly you are more observant of the rule. God formed first the exterior of man, then he breathed into him the breath of life, and this exterior was made into a living soul.* Humi liations, says Our Lord, very often precede and introduce humility; continue in this exterior which is easier, and little by little the interior will accommodate itself thereto.

Ah! yes, my daughter, I see your entanglements in these thoughts of vanity; the fertility, and at the same time subtlety, of your mind lend a hand to these suggestions; but what do you put yourself in trouble about? The birds came down upon the sacrifice of Abraham t: what did he do? With a branch which he kept waving over the holocaust he drove them away.

• Gen. ii. 7. t Ib. xv.

LET. XVIIL] Further Letters Outside Visitation. 3 1 5

My daughter, a simple little pronouncing of some word of the cross will drive away all these thoughts, at any-rate will take away from them all hurtfulness: — 0 Lord! pardon this daughter of the old Adam, for she knows not what she does. 0 woman! behold thy father on the cross. You must sing very quietly: He hath put down the mighty from their seat, and he hath exalted the humble* I say that these renouncements must be made quite gently, simply, and as if one made them for love, and not from the necessity of the struggle.

Accustom yourself to speak softly and slowly, and to go, I mean walk, quite composedly, to do all that you do gently and quietly, and you will see that in three or four years you will have quite regulated this hasty impetuousness. But carefully remember to act thus gently and speak softly on occasions when the impetuosity is not urging you, and when there is no appearance of danger of it; as for example when going to bed, getting up, sitting down, eating, when you speak with our Sister Marie or Anne, or with our Sister Isabel: in short, everywhere and in everything dispense not yourself from it. Now I know that you will make a thousand slips a day over all this, and that your great natural activity will be always breaking out; but I do not trouble myself about this provided that it is not your will, your deliberation, and that when you perceive these movements you always try to calm them.

Be very careful about what may offend our neigh bour, and not to make known what is secret to his disadvantage, and if you do so try to repair the injury as far as you can immediately. These slight move-

• Luke i. 52.

ments of envy are of no importance, yea are useful, since they make you clearly see your self-love, and since you make contrary acts.

But, my daughter, is it not good in this daughter whom I have so often recommended to you, and who in truth is dear to me as my soul, to confess that little trait of self-love? For what is there more delicate than that little aversion, which she describes, to the being called daughter by that poor mother? * (Ask her, I beg you, if she has not also a repugnance to my calling her my daughter, and if she does not want me to call her my mother?) Oh! what effort it has cost her to tell me this little weakness! I do not know indeed, my daughter, how much it costs her, but I would not for anything in the world have it unsaid, since she has hereby practised such profound resignation, and such confidence towards me. She is, however, still more agreeable when she forbids me to say this to the poor mother. 0 my daughter, tell her that these little communications of her soul to mine enter into a place whence they never go out save by leave of her who puts them there. Besides, my dear daughter, I do not know what this daughter has done to me, but I find such satisfaction that she describes her miseries so naturally to me that more could not be. Tell her now always to write simply to me, and that although when I was there with her she never showed me any of the letters which she wrote to her sisters, now if I were there she would make no difficulty in doing so; for she knows me much better than she did, and well knows that I am not of a mocking turn.

• Madame Arnauld entered Port Royal on the death of her husband. [Tr.]

LET. xvm.] Further Letters Outside Visitation. 317

As to prayer, my dear daughter, I approve your reading a little in your Theotimus, in order to restrain your mind, and your saying to Our Lord from time to time, quite quietly, words contradicting the distractions in which you may perceive yourself to be. But look, do not disturb yourself over these distractions — if I were a Saint, if I were speaking to the Pope, and the like; for they are distractions all the more completely for being very silly; and no other remedy is wanted than quietly to bring back the heart to its object.

I have answered everything, my dear daughter. Ah! salute with some greater tenderness from me the poor dear eldest sister; my heart regards her with pity. I know that it is so much in Our Lord that not even this rude blow has been able to drive away interior peace; but her distress and her fears will have been great. This sister is dear to me in quite an extraordinary degree. May God for ever be our all. Amen. I am in him all yours in a way that Providence alone can make you conceive. The grace, peace, and consolation of the Holy Spirit be with you. Amen.

My brother is still with Madame. May I venture to salute the little brother Simon, and the dear little sister? But my daughter Marie Angelique, without doubt I salute her with all my heart, and the good M. Manceau, and, when you see her, your great friend and my dear sister de la Croix. God be in the midst of your heart. Amen.

318 Letters to Persons in Religion. IBOOKIV.