Letter XX. To the Same

On good and on useless desires; advice in temptation.

ANNECY, ijth April 1616.

I RETURNED yesterday from the Chablais, my dear daughter, where, thanks to God, I have left the Barnabite Fathers established, according to the command of His Highness and the Cardinal Prince; to-morrow I am going to console Madame the Countess of Tournon on the death of her husband, to which I arn bound by the relationship which is between us, and the obliga tions which I have to the memory of the deceased. This is by way of telling you, my dear daughter, that I am writing to you without leisure, and yet I want to answer the two questions which you put to me some time back; for I see clearly that it is of no use to wait for convenience to do better, since I am destined to continual pressure of troublesome affairs.

My dear daughter, there are two kinds of good desires; one, those which increase the grace and glory of God's servants; the other, which effect nothing. Desires of the former kind are thus expressed: I should like, say, to give alms, but I do not, because I have not the wherewithal; and these desires greatly increase charity and sanctify the soul: thus devout souls desire martyrdom, reproaches and the cross, which yet they cannot obtain. Desires of the second kind are expressed thus: I should like to give alms, but I do not will to do so; and these desires are not hindered from effect by impossibility, but by meanness of spirit, timidity, and want of earnestness, whence they are useless and do not sanctify the soul, nor give any increase of grace, and of them, St. Bernard says, hell is full.

It is true that for the entire resolution of your difficulty you must note that there are desires which seem to be of the second sort, and yet all the same are of the first; as, on the contrary, there are some which appear to be of the first, and are really of the second. For example, no servant of God can be without this desire: Oh how greatly I would wish to serve God better! Alas! when shall I serve him as I desire? And because we can always go from better to better, it seems that the effects of these desires are only hindered by want of resolution. But this is not true, for they are hindered by the condition of this mortal life, in which it is not so easy for us to do as to desire. For which reason these desires in general are good, and make the soul better, giving it fervour, and persuading it to progress. But when, in particular, some occasion of making progress presents itself, and a person instead of coming to deed stops short at desire — as, for example, an occasion presents itself of pardoning an injury, of renouncing my own will on some particular subject, and instead of granting this pardon, making the renunciation, I simply say: I would much desire to pardon, but I am not able; I would like to make this renouncement, but it cannot be — who does not see that this desire is a mere occupation of the fancy, yea, that it makes me more guilty in having so strong an inclination towards good and not putting it into act? And these desires made thus seem to be of the first sort and are of the second. Well, it will now be easy for you to settle your doubt, I think. But if there yet remain some difficulty write it to me, and sooner or later I will answer you with all my heart, which is indeed wholly yours, my very dear daughter.

Those who are tempted with unbecoming imagina tions in meditations on the life and death of the Saviour should, as far as possible, represent the mysteries to themselves simply by faith, without using the imagination. For example: My Saviour was crucified; it is a proposition of faith; enough that I simply apprehend it, without imagining to myself how his body hung on the cross. And when the improper imagi nations arise, you must turn upon them, and drive them back by affections proceeding from faith. O Jesus crucified, I adore you; I adore your torments, your pains, your travail; you are my salvation. For, my dear daughter, to want to leave off meditating on the death or life of Our Lord, on account of these filthy representations, would be to play the enemy's game, who tries by this means to deprive us of our greatest blessing.

Truly I am out of breath, but you will supply by your goodness. I will write at another time to Sister Gr. M., and then to Sister M. A., and mean while I salute their love, which I pray to recommend me earnestly to Our Lord; as also Sister Frances Teresa, and all the other sisters, whom I greatly love in the faith of Our Saviour. I salute the reverend chap lain, and am his entirely. Adieu! my dear daughter, A Dieu (to God) may we be eternally, to love and bless him without ceasing.

I humbly salute M. de Saint Nizier, and the Rev. Father Philip, and beg you, when you see the Rev. Father Rector, to assure him of my very humble and sincere affection. I salute Mesdames Yulliat and Colin.