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Letter X. To a Young Lady

The Saint exhorts her not to go to law and recommends the method of accommodation. (Pernicious effects of lawsuits. )

I do not tell you the truly more than paternal love my heart has for you, my dearest daughter, for I think that God himself, who has created it, will tell it you; and if he does not make it known it is not in my power to do so. But why do I say this to you? Because, my dearest daughter, I have not written to you as often as you might have wished, and people sometimes judge of the affection more by the sheets of paper than by the fruit of the true interior sentiments, which only appear on rare and signal occasions, and which are more useful.

"Well, you ask me for a paper which hitherto I have not been able to find, and which M. has not either. You wish that if it is not in our hands we should send instantly to Rome for a similar one. But, my child, I think there has been a change of bishop at Troyes; and if so, then we must know his name.

And, without further preface, I am going to say to you, without art or disguise, what my soul wishes to say to you. How long will you aim at other victories over the world or other love for the things you can see there than our Lord had, to which he exhorts you in so many ways? How acted he, this Saviour of the world? It is true, my child, he was the lawful sovereign of the world, and did he ever go to law to have so much as where to lay his head? A thousand wrongs were done him; what suit did he ever make? Before what tribunal did he ever cite anyone? None, indeed; yea, he did not will even to cite the traitors who crucified him before the tribunal of God! on the contrary, he invoked on them the power of mercy.

And it is this which he has so fully inculcated. To him who would go to law with thee and take away thy coat, give thy tunic also.^

I am not at all extravagant {super stitieux) and blame not those who go to law, provided they do so in truth, judgment, and justice: but I say, I exclaim, I cry out, and, if need were, would write with my own blood, that those who want to be perfect, and entirely children of Jesus Christ crucified, must practise this doctrine of our Lord. Let the world rage, let the prudence of the flesh tear out its hair with spite if it likes, and let all the wise men of the age invent as many divisions, pretexts, excuses, as they like; but this word ought to be preferred to all prudence: And if any man would go to law with thee and take away thy coat, [en jugement) give him thy cloak also.

But this, you will tell me, applies to certain cases. True, my dearest daughter; but, thank God, we are in such case, for we aspire to perfection, and wish to follow as near as we can him who said with an affection truly apostolic: Having food, and wherewith to he clothed, with these ive are content.f And who cried out to the Corinthians: Indeed, there is already plainly fault and sin in you, for that you go to law with one another.% Hearken, my child, to the sentiments and advice of this man, who no longer lived in himself, but Christ lived in him.§ Why, says he, do you not rather suffer yourselves to be defrauded?\ Notice, my child,

  • Matt. v. 40. f 1 Tim. vi. 8. J i Cor. vi. 7.

§ Gal. ii. 20. || 1 Cor. vi. 7.

that he speaks, not to a daughter who aspires after a particular manner and after so many inspirations, to the perfect life, but to all the Corinthians. Notice that he wishes them to suffer the wrong, that there is fault in them to go to law with those who cheat and defraud them. But what sin? In that they thus scandalize the heathen children of the world, who said: " See how Christian these Christians are. Their master says: To him who would take thy coat, give also thy cloak: see, how for temporal goods they risk the eternal, and the tender brotherly love they should have for one another/' On this S. Augustine says: " Note the lesson of our Lord; he says not to him who would take away a ring, give also thy necklace, — both of which are superfluous: but he speaks of the tunic and mantle, which are necessary things."

O, my dearest daughter, behold the wisdom of God, bshold his prudence, consisting in the most holy and most adorable simplicity, childlikeness, and, to speak after an apostolic manner, in the most sacred folly of the cross.

But, thus will say to me human prudence, — to what will you reduce us? What! are they to tread us under foot, to twist our nose, to play with us as with a bauble? Are they to dress and undress us without our saying a word? Yes, indeed, I wish that; not I, indeed, but Christ wishes it in me; and the Apostle of the cross and of the crucified cries out: Until now we are hungry, we are thirsty, we are naked, we are bvffetted; in fine, we are become the offscouring of the world (as an apple peeling, a sweeping up, a chestnut skin, or a nutshell)* The inhabitants of Babylon understand not this doctrine, but the dwellers on Mount Calvary practise it.

" O," you will say, my child, " you are very severe, father, all at once." Indeed it is not all at once, for since I have had grace to know a little the spirit of the cross, this sentiment entered into my mind, and has never left it. And if I have not lived according to it, this has been through weakness of heart and not through thinking it right; the howling of the world has made me do externally the evil I hated internally: and I will dare to say this word, to my confusion, into my daughter's ear: I never rendered injury or evil except unwillingly (a contre cceur). I do not scrutinize my conscience, but so far as I see in the general, I believe I speak the truth; and so much the more inexcusable am I.

I quite agree, my child, Be prudent as the serpent,^ who despoils himself entirely, not of his dress, but of his very skin, to renew his youth; who hides his head, says S. Gregory (which is, for us, fidelity to the Gospel teaching), and leaves all the rest to the mercy of his enemies to save the integrity of that.

But what am I saying? I write this letter with impetuosity, and I have been obliged to write it at two sittings, and love is not prudent and discreet, it goes violently and in advance of itself.

You have there so many people of honour, of wis- * I Cor. iv. 11, 13. t Mat. x. 16.

dom, of loving temper, of piety: will it not be possible for them to bring Madame de C. and Madame de L. to some understanding which will give you a holy sufficiency? Are they tigers, who cannot be brought to reason? Have you not there M. N., in whose prudence all you have and all you claim would be very safe? Have you not M. N., who will certainly do you this favour of assisting you in this Christian way of peace? And the good Father N., will he not be pleased to serve God in your affair, which regards almost your very salvation, and quite, at least, your advancement in perfection? And then Madame N., should she not be believed, for she is certainly, I do not only say very, very good, but also prudent enough to advise you in this case.

What duplicities, artifices, worldly speeches, and perhaps lies, how many little injustices, and soft and well-covered, and imperceptible calumnies, are used in this confusion of suits and procedures! Will you not say that you wish to marry, scandalizing the whole world by an evident lie, unless you have a constant preceptor who will whisper in your ear the purity of sincerity? Will you not say that you wish to live in the world, and to be supported according to your birth? that you have need of this and that? And what about all this antVnest of thoughts and fancies which these transactions will breed in your spirit? Leave, leave to the worldly their world: what need have you of what is required to live in it? Two thousand crowns and still less will abundantly suffice for a person who loves our Saviour crucified. A hundred and fifty crowns income, or two hundred, are riches for one who believes in the article of evangelical poverty.

^3ut if I were not a cloistered religious, and only associated to some monastery, I should be too poor to have myself called my lady by more than one or two servants. How? Have you ever seen that our Lady had so much? What need for it to be known that you are of good family according to the world, if you are of the household of God? Oh! but I should like to found some house of piety, or at least give some assistance to such a house; for, being infirm in body, they would then more willingly keep me. Ah! now it comes out, my dearest daughter. I knew very well your piety was making a plank for self-love, so piteously human is it. In fact, we do not love crosses, unless they are in gold, with pearls and enamel. It is a rich, a most devout, and admirably spiritual abjection to be regarded in a congregation as foundress, or at least great benefactress! Lucifer would have been willing to remain in heaven on that condition. But to live on alms, like our Lord, to take the charity of others in our illnesses, being by birth and in spirit so and so, this certainly is very trying and hard. It is hard to man, but not to the Son of God, who will do it in you.

But is it not a good thing to have of one's own to employ at one's will in the service of God? The expression at one's will (a son gre) makes our difference clear. But I say, at your will, my father; for I am always your child, God having willed it so. Well, then, my will is that you coDtent yourself with what M. N. and Madame N. think proper, and that you leave the rest, for the love of God and the edification of your neighbour, and the peace of the ladies, your sisters, and that you consecrate it thus to the love of your neighbour and the glory of the Christian spirit. O God! what blessings, graces, spiritual riches for your soul, my dearest daughter. If you do this you will abound and superabound: God will bless your little, and it will satisfy you: no, no, it is not difficult to God to do as much with five barley loaves, as Solomon with all his cooks and purveyors. Remain in peace. I am quite unchangeably your true servant and father.

Chapter 12 of 185