Letter VI. To the Same

Not to reason with temptations, nor to fear them, nor even reflect on them.

St. Augustine's Day, 30th August, 1605.

You will have now to hand, I am sure, my child, the three letters which I have written to you, and which you had not yet received when you wrote to me on the 10th August. It remains for me to answer yours of that date, since by the preceding I have answered all the others.

Your temptations against faith have come back; and though you do not answer them a single word, they press you. You do not answer them: that is good, my child; bnt you think too much of them, you fear them too much, you dread them too much: they would do you no harm without that. You are too sensitive to temptations. You love the faith, and would not have a single thought come to you, contrary to it; and as soon as ever a single one touches you, you grieve about it and distress yourself. You are too jealous of this purity of faith; everything seems to spoil it. No, no, my child, let the wind blow, and think not that the rustling (frifilis) of the leaves is the clashing (cliquetis) of arms.

Lately I was near the bee-hives, and some of the bees flew on to my face: I wanted to raise my hand, and brush them off. No, said a peasant to me, do not be afraid, and do not touch them: they will not sting you at all; if you touch them they will bite you. I trusted him; not one bit me. Trust me; do not fear these temptations, do not touch them, they will not hurt you; pass on, and do not occupy yourself with them.

I return from that extremity of my diocese which is on the Swiss border, where I have achieved the establishment of thirty-three parishes, in which, eleven years ago, there were only ministers; and I was there three years quite alone preaching the Catholic faith:

and God has made this voyage an entire consolation to me; for in place of my not finding a hundred Catholics, I have not left there now a hundred Huguenots. I have indeed had trouble in this journey and a terrible embarrassment; and as it was about temporal things and the provision of churches,, I have been very much opposed. But God has put a good end to it by his grace, and also there has been some little spiritual fruit in it. I say this because my heart can conceal nothing from yours, and considers itself not to be a different or other heart, but one with yours.

To-day is St. Augustine's; and you may guess whether I have besought for you the mother of the servant (St. Monica). May God be our heart, my child; and I am in him and by his will, all yours. Live joyful, and be generous. God, whom we love, and to whom we are vowed, wishes us to be such. It is he who has given me to you: may he be for ever blessed and praised!

P.S. I was closing this letter, badly done as it is, and here are brought to me two others, one of the 1 6th, the other of the 20th August, enclosed in a single packet. I see nothing in them save what I have said; you fear temptations too much. There is no harm but that. Be quite convinced that all the temptations of hell cannot stain a soul which does not love them: let them then have their course. The Apostle St. Paul suffers terrible ones, and God does not will to take them from him, and all in love.

Come, come, my child, courage; let the heart be ever with its Jesus; and let this vile beast {matin) bark at the gate as much as he likes. Live, my dear child, with the sweet Jesus, and your holy abbess, amid the darkness, the nails, the thorns, the spears, the derelictions; and with your mistress (St. Monica), live long in tears without gaining anything: at last, God will raise you up, and will rejoice you, and will make you see the desire of your heart*

I hope so; and if he does not, still we will not cease serving him; and he will not, on that account, cease to be our God; for the affection we owe him is of an immortal and imperishable nature.