Letter XIX. To a Young Lady at Parts (Probably Mlle. de Frouville)
[SEE FOLLOWING LETTER.]
The Saint shoivs her that under her circumstances she cannot safely stay in the world, and exhorts her to enter Religion.
3\st May 1620.
WELL now, in God's name, my dear daughter, it is true, God wills that you should make use of my soul with an entire confidence, in all that regards the good of yours, which on this account he has made wholly dear and precious to me in his heavenly love.
Behold then, you are out of this troublesome business, my dear daughter, with an entire liberty which the eternal Providence has given you; and since you know it to be so, bless from the very depths of your soul this divine sweetness; and I will bless it with you, destining for this purpose the most holy sacrifices which I will offer upon his holy altars. For, better thank-offering I cannot make to the divine Majesty than to present to him the One for whom and by whom everything is agreeable to him in heaven and on earth.
But now, my daughter, what shall we do with this liberty which we have? We will, without doubt, wholly immolate it to him of whom we hold it; for this resolution is invariable that without any reserve or exception even for a single moment, we will live for him alone, who, to make us live with true life, even willed to die on the cross.
But how? — in what state? — in what condition of life? To stay in the state which you are in would indeed be the easiest in appearance, but in reality the hardest. That world of Paris, or indeed of the whole of France, would not let you live peacefully in this middle state. They would not cease to drive you violently outside the limits of the resolution which you would have taken about it; and to promise yourself a resolution so constant that it could not be shaken, yea overcome, would be to promise yourself a real miracle in this age, with your attractive appearance, among so many subtle advocates and intercessors which the world and its prudence would have with you, who without any pity or cessation would attack, now on one side now on another, your repose; and by dint of importunities, or of deceits or surprises, would at last procure for their aims the victory over your powers. And I well know that I need say no more on this point, since you yourself own that it is true, and know the impossibility. There remains then, as matter for consideration, marriage, or religion.
IV. x
But, my dear daughter, I have needed no extra ordinary penetration to discern which of the two I should counsel you to choose; for, as you clearly de scribe to me, and as you have already let me know, during the time when I had the benefit of hearing you speak with confidence of your soul to mine, the feeling which you have against marriage comes from two causes, of which even the one would be enough to determine a person not to embrace it — a great aver sion, a most entire disgust, a very strong repugnance. 0 my daughter! that is quite enough, we need say no more about it. Why! those souls which have a particular inclination for marriage, let it be as happy a one as it may, find in it so many occasions of patience and mortification that only with great difficulty do they bear the burden of it. And how would you manage, entering into it wholly against your feel ings? Of other difficulties I have a hundred times seen alleviations; of this one never.
The Apostles, as you know, having once heard Our Lord speak of the indissolubility of the marriage tie, said to him: * Lord, if it be so, it is not good to marry. And Our Lord, approving their opinion, answered them: All receive not this word;... he that can receive it let him receive it. My dear daughter, I also, having heard you speak and seen your letter on this subject, speak to you boldly and say to you: without doubt, my daughter, since the case is so it is good for you not to marry; and although all do not understand, that is, do not accept, do not adopt, this saying, do not understand its excellence, do not put it into effect, still you, my dearest daughter, you can easily effect it, you * Matt. xix.
can easily attain this good, and understand and relish this counsel. Do so then.
Now I say this with still more assurance because I see marriage to be more dangerous in you than in another on account of that ambitious spirit which you describe to me, which would make you continually pant after aggrandisement and incessantly plunge into vanity.
But after taking this resolution without there being any subject for scruple, it is far more difficult to say to yourself next, Enter then into religion. And yet it must perforce be said to you; since neither the customs of France, nor the inclinations of your relatives, nor your age, nor your appearance, would allow you to remain as you are. I say this to you then perforce: My daughter, enter into religion; but in saying it to you I feel a secret sweetness in this force, which makes it not forced but sweet and agreeable. The Angels pressed * that good man Lot, and his wife and daughters, and took his hand and forcibly brought him forth and set him without the city, but Lot finds no violence in this force, indeed he says he well knows he has found grace with them. And Our Lord in his parable t commands his servant: Compel them to come in, yet not one of them that were compelled said: Let me alone, you hurt me. I am forced and compelled to say to my daughter: Enter into religion, but this compulsion does not distress my heart.
0 my daughter! let us speak together in some degree heart to heart. Think you that God always gives the vocation to religion or to perfect devotion
- Gen. xix. t Luke xiv.
according to natural qualities and the inclinations of the souls whom he calls? Certainly not, my daughter, do not be afraid of that. The religious life is not a natural life, it is above nature, and it needs that grace give it and form the soul of this life. It is true that the sovereign Providence many times uses nature for the service of grace, but this is far from being always the case or almost always. He who cried so piteously: * The good which I will I do not, but the evil which I will not, that is present in me;... that is to say, there dwelleth not in my flesh that which is good; for to will good is present with me, but to accomplish that which is good I find not... unhappy man that I am: who shall deliver me from the body of this death? The grace of G-od by Jesus Christ; or / give thanks to God by Jesus Christ: therefore I myself, with the mind and in the mind serve the law of God, but with the flesh, and in the flesh, the law of sin — he, I say, showed clearly that his nature but little served grace, and that his in clinations were but slightly submissive to inspirations: and yet he was one of the most perfect servers of God whom God ever had in this world, and was so blessed at last that he could say with truth: t / live, now not I, but Christ liveth in me, after grace had subdued nature, and inspirations had subjected inclinations.
My daughter, these fears of finding superiors indiscreet, and these other apprehensions which you explain to me so faithfully, all this will vanish before the face of Our Lord crucified, whom you will affectionately embrace; your spirit, noble with the world's nobility, will change by force, and will make itself noble with the loftiness of the Angels and Saints. You will see * Rom. vii. t Gal. ii. 20.
the foolishness of the human understanding and its reasonings, and will laugh it to scorn. You will love the word of the Cross* which the pagans have looked upon as foolishness and the Jews as a scandal, but which to us, that is, to those who are saved, is the supreme wisdom, the virtue and power of God.
But, my daughter, there is this very great softening of a counsel which is so absolute and seems so rigorous. You are rich; a twentieth or perhaps a hundredth part of your means would suffice to make you foundress of a monastery, and in that capacity you would have a graceful means of living in a religious manner outside the pressure of the world, whilst waiting for custom, consideration, and inspiration to give the last courage to your heart and the last perfection to your resolution, so as to be altogether a religious. Thus would you finely cheat your nature and artfully entrap your heart. Oh! as Our Saviour lives, to whom I am consecrated, this advice regards your soul only, and has no aim, either to right or to left, but your peace and repose. And meantime pray to God, my dear daughter; humble yourself, direct your lite to eternity, elevate your inten tions, purify your aims, often think how that a single little increase in the love of God is worthy of great consideration, since it will increase our glory for all eternity. In short, your spirit, and what God has done to have you his, and a thousand considerations, call you to no common Christian generosity. I re commend you to have confidence in the good Mother of the Visitation as in myself, for she will serve you faithfully. And I am, without.end and without re serve, your very humble and unchanging servant, &c. * i Cor. i.
Chapter 119 of 160