Letter XV. To the Same

Profound peace of the Saint amidst his affairs. Mark of his humility. He permits ladies some innocent recreations, under the name of oalls. He announces that he is going to work at the Treatise on the Love of God.

No, my dearest child, I have had no news of you these three whole months; and, indeed, I cannot believe that you have sent me any. The longer the news delays, the more I wish it good. I confess that my heart importunes me a little in this regard; but I pardon it these little ardours, for it is paternal, and more than paternal. Will you really believe what I am going to tell you? I received, some time ago, the little book, on The Presence of God; it is a little work, but I have not yet been able to read it through, to tell you what I think of it for your service. It is incredible how I am hustled hither and thither by affairs; but, my dear child, you will distress yourself if I do not add that still, thanks to my God, my poor and weakly heart never had more repose, nor will to love his Divine Majesty, whose special assistance I feel for this purpose.

O my dearest child! what great pleasure you gave me one day on recommending to me holy humility! Do you know that when the wind gets into our valleys, amidst our mountains, it takes the bloom off the little flowers, but roots up the trees; and I, who am placed somewhat high in this charge of bishop, suffer the greater attacks. O Lord, save us; command these winds of vanity and there will come a great calm.* Keep yourself quite firm, and clasp very closely this foot of the sacred cross of our Lord; the rain which falls from all parts of it, calms down the wind, great as it may be. When I am there sometimes, O God, how is my soul at peace, and what sweetness does this dew, rosy and ruddy, give to it I * Matt. viii.

But I scarcely move one step away from it, and the wind begins again.

I do not know where you will be this Lent according to the body; according to the spirit I think yon will be in the cavern of the turtle, and the pierced side of our dear Saviour: I fully mean to try to be often there with you; may God by his sovereign goodness give us the grace! Yesterday I seemed to see you, looking at the open side of our Saviour, and wishing to take his heart to put it into your own, as a king in a little kingdom j and though his is greater than yours, still he could make it little to accommodate it. How good is this Lord, my dear child! how amiable is his heart! let us stay there in that holy dwelling; let this heart live always in our heart, this blood seethe ever in the veins of our souls.

How pleased I am that we have cut the wings of Carnival (Careme-prenant) in this town, and that it scarcely knows itself! How I congratulated upon it, last Sunday, my dear people, who had come in extraordinary numbers to hear the evening sermon, and who had given up all amusement to come to me! I was greatly pleased that this was so, and that all our ladies had communicated in the morning, and that they did not dare to have balls without asking leave: and I am not hard with them:# for I ought not to be, since they are so good, and so devout.

I am going to put my hand to the book of the Love of God, and will try to write as much on my heart as * See note p. 97.

on the paper. Be all to God; I hope more every day in him, that we shall do much in our plan of life. My God, dearest child, how tenderly and ardently I feel the advantage and sacred tie of our holy unity! I preached a sermon this morning all of flames, for I felt it; I must say so to you. My God! what blessings I wish you, and you cannot think how I am urged at the altar to recommend you more than ever to our Lord. What more have I to say to you, except that we should live with a life all dead, and die with a death all living and vivifying in the life and death of our king, of our flower, and our Saviour, in whom I am, your, &c.