Letter XXIV. To the Sisters of the Visitation at Annecy

Excellence of the religious state as compared with a secular life: they are to be spiritual bees.

GRENOBLE, $th March 1617.*

COULD my soul ever forget the dear children of its womb? No, my very dear daughters, my dear joy and my crown, you know it well, I am certain; and your hearts will well have answered for me that if I have not written to you till now, it is only because writing to our good mother, the mother of all, I knew well that I wrote to you no less than to her, by that sweet and salutary union which your souls have with hers; and because, moreover, the holy love which we reciprocally bear one another is written, methinks, in

• The French has " ist April 1616." The year is certainly wrong. The Saint preached the Lent at Grenoble in 1617. He speaks of the feeding the multitude as the Gospel of " to-day." This Gospel is read on fourth Sunday of Lent, which in 1617 was $th March. [IV.]

such great characters in our hearts that one can very nearly read our thoughts here from Annecy.

I am with rather more people than when I am in my ordinary dwelling near you; and the more I see of this miserable world the more displeasing it is to me, and I think that I could not live in it if the serving some good souls in the advancement of their salvation did not give me some relief.

Oh! my dear daughters, how much more happy I find the bees, who leave not their hive except for gathering honey, and are only collected together to compose it, who have no striving but for that, and whose striving is according to order, and who do nothing in their houses and monasteries save the sweet-smelling work of honey and of wax.

How much more happy are they than those libertine wasps and insects, which flying so aimlessly and more readily to unclean things than to clean, seem to live only to annoy other animals and give them pain, while giving themselves a perpetual disquiet and useless solicitude. They fly everywhere buzzing, sucking, and stinging while their summer and their autumn last; and come winter, they find themselves without a refuge, without provision, and without life; — while our chaste bees, which have as the object of their sight, of their smell, of their taste, only the beauty, perfume, and sweetness of the flowers spread out for them, have, besides the nobleness of their occupation, a very de lightful retreat, an agreeable provision, and a contented life, amidst the stores of their past labour.

And those souls in love with our Saviour, who follow him in the Gospel as far as the desert heights, make there on the grass and flowers a more delicious feast than ever those did who enjoyed the sumptuous service of Ahasuerus, where abundance choked enjoyment, because it was an abundance of meats and of men.

Live joyous, my dear daughters, amongst your holy occupations. When the air is cloudy, amid dryness and aridities, work within your heart by the practice of holy humility and abjection; when it is fine, bright, and clear, go make your spiritual expeditions on to the hills of Calvary, of Olivet, of Sion, and of Thabor. From the desert mountain where our Saviour feeds his dear flock to-day, fly up to the summit of the eternal mount of heaven, and see the immortal delights which are there prepared for your hearts.

Ah! how happy are these well-beloved hearts of my daughters, in having given up some years of the false liberty of the world in order to enjoy eternally that desirable slavery in which no liberty is taken away save that which hinders us from being truly free.

May God bless you, my dear daughters, and make you advance more and more in the love of his divine eternity, in which we hope to enjoy the infinitude of his favours in return for this little but true fidelity which in so slight a thing as is this present life, we will observe, by help of his grace. May the dilection of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost be for ever in the midst of your hearts, and may the bosom of Our Lady be our refuge for ever. Amen. I st April 1 6 1 o.*

God has done me the favour of having been able to write all at one breath, though almost without breath-

• So the printed text, clearly by mistake. The Visitation was not then founded. See previous note. [Tr.]

ing, these four little words to my dear daughters, who, placed together like flowers in a bouquet, are delicious to the Mother of the " Flower of Jesse," and flower of mothers. Ah! Lord, may it be unto an odour of sweetness. Amen, Amen. Vive Jesus, in whom I am your most affectionate servant.