Letter IV

FROM MOTHER DE CHANTAL TO THE SAINT. Answer to the preceding.

MY ONLY FATHER — M. de Grandis told me to-day that we must still take great care of you; that you must no longer be so sparely dieted; that we must keep and nurse you very carefully, on account of the inflammation which threatens. I am very glad of these orders, and that you will keep your solitude, as it will be used for the further profit of your dear soul: I could not say our soul, because I seem no longer to have a part of it, so stripped and so despoiled do I see myself of all that was most precious to me.

Ah! my true father, how deep the knife has cut! Shall I be able long to remain in these sentiments? At least our good God will please to keep me in my resolutions, as I desire. Ah! what force have your words given to my soul! How they touched and con soled me when you said: " 0 my Jesus! What a blessing and a consolation to my soul to know that you are quite stripped of self before God! " May Jesus deign to continue to you, my father, this consolation, and to me this happiness.

I am full of good hope and of a very peaceful and tranquil courage. Thanks to God I am not urged to regard that which I am stripped of; I remain in a certain simplicity; I see it as a thing far away; it keeps coming up indeed and touching me, but I turn away immediately.

Blessed be he that has despoiled me! May his goodness confirm and strengthen me unto the effecting, when he wills me to come to it. When our Lord gave me that sweet thought of abandoning myself to him^ which I manifested to you on Tuesday — ah! I never thought that he would begin to despoil me by means of myself, thus making me begin the work. May he be blessed for all, and deign to strengthen me!

I did not tell you that I had little interior light and consolation: I am only at peace about all. It even seems to me that our Lord, during these days past, has somewhat withdrawn from me that little sweetness which the sense of his dear presence gives; the same, more or less, to-day. There remains little to support or rest my spirit; perhaps it is that this good Lord would pass his hand throughout my whole heart, to take all and strip me of all. His most holy will be done!

My only father, to-day it came to my memory that one day you commanded me to despoil myself. I answered: I do not know what of; and you repeated:

u?r. iv.] Later Letters to Visitation. 1 75

Did I not clearly tell you, my daughter, that I would despoil you of all? Oh how easy it is to quit what is outside of ourselves! But to quit our skin, our flesh, our bone, and to pierce into the interior, and to the very marrow — which, meseems, is what we have done — this is a great, a difficult thing, and impossible to aught but the grace of God. To him then is the glory due, and to him be it given for ever.

My true father, am I not clothing myself in the consolation I take in conversing with you when I take it without your leave? It seems to me that in future I should do nothing, and that I should no longer have thought, affection, or will, save in so far as everything is commanded me.

I conclude then by wishing you a thousand good-nights, and by telling you what has come into my mind. I think I see the two portions of our united soul make one, abandoned and given over to God alone. Amen, my dearest father. And may Jesus live and reign for ever! Amen. Do not risk anything by rising too soon; I fear this holy feast may make you run into some excess. God guide you in everything.