Letter XVI. To the Same

On 7ds soul. — The will.

14th July, 16 15. This false esteem of ourselves, my dear child, is so favoured by self-love, that reason can do nothing against it. It is the fourth thing difficult to Solomon, and which he said was unknown to him — the way of a man in his youth* God gives M. N. much grace in his having his grandfather to watch over him. May he long enjoy this blessing. * Prov. xxx. 19.

O my child! Be sure that ray heart awaits the day of your consolation with as much ardour as yours. But wait, ray dearest sister; wait with waiting* to use the words of Scripture. Now, to wait with waiting is not to disquiet yourself in waiting; for there are many who in waiting do not wait, but trouble and excite themselves.

We shall make way, dear child, God helping: and a great mass of little crosses and secret contradictious which have come upon my peace, give me the most sweet and delightful hope possible, and foretell, me seems, the near establishment of my soul in its God. He is, certainly, not only the great, but, as I think, the unique ambition and passion of my soul, in which I include that soul which God has inseparably joined with mine.

And as I am on the subject of my soul, I want to give you this good news of it, that I do and will do what you have asked me for it, — doubt not; and I thank you for the zeal which you have for its good, which is not separate from the good of yours, if the words yours and mine can still be used between us on this point. I will say more to you: it is that I find my soul a little more to my satisfaction than usual, in having nothing which keeps it attached to this world, and being more sensible to eternal goods.

If I were as truly and strongly joined to God as I am absolutely detached from the world, — dear Saviour, how happy should I be! And you, my * Ps. xxxix. 1.

child, how satisfied would you be? But I speak of the interior and my opinion {sentiment): for my exterior, and, what is worse, my conduct (deportements) are full of a great variety of contrary imperfections; and the good that I will I do not;* but still I know well that in truth and without pretence I will it, and with an unalterable will.

But, my child, how can it be that with such a will, so many imperfections appear and spring up in me? Certainly, it is not of my will, nor by my will, though in my will and on my will. It is, I think, like the mistletoe, which grows and appears on a tree, and in a tree, though not of the tree, nor by the tree. O God! why do I tell you all this, save because my heart always opens forth and pours itself out without limits when it is with yours.

If you were staying where you are, I should be very glad to undertake the service which the Rev. Father N. desires of me for this lady: but as you are not, it seems to me that another, whom she will have a chance of seeing often er, will make himself more useful for this good work; and meanwhile I will pray our Lord for her: for on the good news you give me of her, I begin to love her tenderly, poor woman. Ah! what a consolation to see this poor soul grow green again, after a winter so hard, so long, and so bitter. I am to you what God knows. Amen.

• Rom. vii. 15.