Letter XXVIII. To Mother de Chantal

Ths Saint's extreme affection for her. The only aim of a Christian's life should be to give it more and more entirely to his Saviour.

March 1618 [Grenoble?].

MY DEAR DAUGHTER — This night during my wakeful times I have had a thousand good thoughts for my sermons; but strength has failed me to bring them forth. God knows all, and I direct all to his greater glory, and adoring his Providence I remain at peace. There is no help for it: I must do what I will not, and the good which I will I do not* I am here in the midst of preachings and of a large audience, larger than I thought; but if I do nothing here it will be little consolation to me.

Believe that meantime I think at every moment of you and of your soul, for which I incessantly express my desires before God and his Angels, that it may be more filled with the abundance of his graces. My dearest daughter, what ardour do I seem to have for your advancement in most holy celestial love, to which, while celebrating this morning, I have again dedicated and offered you, mentally lifting you up in my arms as one does little children, and big ones, too, when one is strong enough to lift them. Behold something of what imaginations our heart makes on these occa sions. Truly I am pleased with it, that it should thus employ all things for the sweetness of its incomparable affection, referring them to holy things.

• Rom. vii 19.

LET. xxxin.] Earlier Letters to Visitation. 159

I have not failed to make a special memento of your dear husband deceased. Ah! what a happy exchange you made that day, embracing the state of perfect re signation, in which with such consolation I found you! And your soul, taking a Spouse of so high a condition, has reason indeed to find an extreme joy in the commemoration of the hour of your betrothal to him. And so it is true, my dear daughter, that our unity is wholly consecrated to the sovereign unity; and I feel with ever increasing force the reality of the union of our hearts, which will truly keep me from ever forgetting you until after, and long after, I have forgotten myself to fasten myself so much the better to the cross. I am going to try to keep you ever exalted permanently on the throne which God has given you in my heart, a throne based upon the cross.

For the rest, my dear daughter, go on establishing ever more and more your good purposes, your holy resolutions; deepen more and more your consideration of the wounds of Our Lord, where you will find an abyss of reasons which will confirm you in your generous undertaking, and will make you feel how vain and low is the heart which makes elsewhere its dwelling, or which builds on other tree than that of the cross.

0 my God! how happy shall we be if we live and die in this holy tabernacle! No, nothing, nothing of the world is worthy of our love: it is all due to this Saviour who has given us all his own. /

In truth, I have had great sentiments, these last days, of the infinite obligations which I have to God; and with a thousand emotions of sweetness I have again resolved to serve him with the greatest fidelity

1 can, and to keep my soul more continually in his divine presence; and with all this I feel in myself a certain joy fulness, not impetuous, but methinks efficacious, at undertaking this mine amendment. Shall you not be very glad, my dear daughter, if one day you see me well fitted for the service of Our Lord? Yes, my dear daughter, because our interior goods are inseparably and wholly united. You wish me perpetually many graces; and as for me, with incomparable ardour I pray God to make you quite absolutely his own.

God knows, most dear daughter of my soul, how gladly I would wish to die for the love of my Saviour! But, at least, if I cannot die for it, may I live for it alone. My daughter, I am greatly pressed; what more can I say to you save — may this same God bless you with his great benediction.

Adieu, my dear daughter; press closely this dear Crucified One to your bosom. I beseech him to clasp and unite you more and more to himself. Adieu, again, my dear daughter: behold I am far advanced into the night, but still further in the consolation which I have in imagining sweet Jesus seated on your heart. I pray him to stay there for ever and for ever. Adieu, yet once more, my good, my dear daughter, whom I cherish beyond compare in Our Lord, who liveth and reigneth world without end. Amen. Vive Jesus!

LET. xxxiv.] Earlier Letters to Visitation. 161