B-VI/1. To Mother de Chantal: On Advent.
1st December 1610.
You desire, my very dear daughter, some good thoughts which may help our sisters to spend Advent well, and with as much devotion as they have desire of it.
What shall I say to you, my dear daughter, except that Holy Church conducts to-day her children to Saint Mary Major, to make the station and begin Advent there. Let us do the same, my daughter; let us enter in spirit into the intention of Holy Church, and in this unity, let us retire near to the holy Virgin, our good Mother and mistress. We shall see, in this month, three objects which are not only capable of occupying our souls, but which should enrapture our hearts with holy love. The first object is Mary conceived without sin; the second, St. John, child of grace, crying out in the desert that the ways must be made straight for the Spouse who is about to come; the third, the same Spouse and Saviour arriving by his holy birth to make us sing joyfully at Christmas, Emmanuel, God with us.
There is enough to meditate upon, until I see you with the dear little flock, which may God bless.
B-VI/2. To a Superioress of the Visitation: Preparation for Christmas. On the sweetness of Christ’s zeal, and how he receives all who will to come to him.
[Mother Favre?]
19th December 1619.
O my daughter, God has shown you a great mercy in bringing back your heart to a gracious forbearance with your neighbour, and in having cast the holy balm of sweetheartedness towards others into the wine of your zeal. See, I answer at last, though late, the letter which you wrote me after my passing visit to you, and I answer briefly, simply, lovingly, as to my most dear daughter whom I have loved almost from her cradle, because God had so disposed. Only this was wanting to you, my dear daughter: your zeal was quite good, but it had the defect of being a little bitter, a little severe, a little exacting; now we have it purified from this; it will henceforth be sweet, mild, gracious, peaceful, forbearing.
Ah! when we look at the dear little Infant of Bethlehem—whose zeal for souls is incomparable, for he comes to die that he may save them—he is so humble, so sweet, so amiable. Live joyfully and courageously, my dear daughter; I mean in the superior part of your soul; for the Angel who heralds the birth of our little Master announces in his song, and sings as he announces, that he proclaims joy, peace, happiness for men of good will; in order that no one may be ignorant that to receive this Infant it is enough to be of good will, although one may not up to this have been of good deed. For he came to bless good wills, and little by little he will make them fruitful and of good effect, provided that they let him govern them, as I hope that we shall do ours, my dear daughter. Amen. And I am entirely yours, &c.
B-VI/3. To a Sister of the Visitation: On the birth of Christ.
My dear Daughter—Behold most sweet little Jesus, who is going to be born in our commemoration, on this approaching feast. And since he is born to visit us on the part of his Eternal Father, and the shepherds and kings will in return come to visit him in the cradle, I think that he is the Father and the Child both together of Saint Marie of the Visitation.
Well then, caress him fondly; give him good hospitality, with all our sisters, sing beautiful canticles to him, and above all adore him, fervently and sweetly, and in him his poverty, his humility, his obedience and his sweetness, in imitation of his most holy Mother and of St. Joseph: and take of him one of those precious tears, sweet dew of heaven, and put it on your heart, in order that it may never know sorrow save what rejoices this sweet Infant; and when you recommend to him your soul, recommend equally to him mine, which is certainly all yours.
I salute affectionately all the dear company of our sisters, whom I look upon as simple shepherdesses watching over their flocks, that is, their affections, and going at the summons of the Angel to do homage to the divine Infant, and as offering him as a pledge of their eternal service the fairest of their lambs, which is their love, without reserve or exception.
B-VI/4. To Mother de Chantal: Thoughts on Christmas night.
Ah! how sweet is this night, my most dear daughter! “The heavens,” sings the Church, “rain down honey over all the world.” And for my part I think these divine Angels who make the air thrill with their admirable song, have come to gather this heavenly honey from the lily as it lies on the breast of the most sweet Virgin and of St. Joseph. There is a fear, my dear daughter, lest these divine spirits should make some mistake between the milk of that virginal bosom and the honey from heaven which lies upon it. How sweet to see the union of honey and milk (le miel succer le lait).
But pray, my dear daughter, am I not ambitious enough to think that our good Angels, yours and mine, were amongst that dear band of heavenly musicians who sang that night? Ah! if they would but please to intone again in the ears of our heart that same heavenly song—what joy! what jubilee! I beg them to do so that there may be glory to God on high, and peace on earth to hearts of good will.
Returning then from the sacred mysteries, I thus say good day to my dear daughter; for I think that even the shepherds, after having adored the sacred Babe whom heaven itself had announced to them, rested a little. But oh what sweetness, as I think, was in their sleep! They seemed still to hear the sacred melody of the Angels who had saluted them so excellently in their canticle, to see the dear Infant and the Mother whom they had visited.
What shall we give to our little King which we have not received from him and from his divine liberality? Well, I will give him at holy High Mass the well-beloved daughter whom he has given me. O Saviour of our souls, make her to be all gold in charity, all myrrh in mortification, all incense in prayer, and then receive her within the arms of your holy protection, and let your heart say to hers: I am thy salvation for ever and ever. Amen. Your very affectionate father and servant, &c.
B-VI/5. To a Religious Sister: The Infant Christ the magnet of souls: how all may help to preach him.
And believe, my dear daughter, that for me also it is a very particular consolation to receive letters from you and to send you mine. It is well with you when you are near that sacred crib, where the Saviour of our souls teaches us so many virtues by his silence; yes, what does he not say to us while he keeps silent? His little heart, panting with love for us, ought indeed to inflame ours. But see how lovingly he has written your name in the bottom of this divine heart, which is throbbing there on the straw with the ardent passion which he has for your advancement; nor does he breathe a single sigh to his Father in which you have not a share, nor is there a single act of his mind which is not for your welfare.
Loadstone draws iron, amber attracts straw and hay: whether we are iron in hardness or straw in feebleness, we ought to join ourselves to this sovereign little Babe, who is a true drawer of hearts. Yes, my daughter; let us not return into the country from which we came out; let us leave for ever Arabia and Chaldæa, and remain at this Saviour’s feet. Let us say with the heavenly Spouse:[1] I have found him whom my soul loveth; I hold him and I will not let him go.
O my daughter, does your envy of me come from this, that I preach to the world the praises of God? Ah! what a satisfaction to the heart to proclaim the goodness of what one loves! But if you want to preach with me, do so, I pray you, my daughter, by ever praying to God to give me words according to his heart and your wishes. How often does it happen that we say good things because some good soul gets us the grace to do so! Does she not preach sufficiently, and with this advantage, that knowing nothing about it she is not puffed up?
We are like organs, where he who gives the wind really does the whole work and gets no praise for it. Often then breathe a prayer for me, my daughter, and you will preach with me; and on my part, believe me, I join my soul to yours every day by the link of the most holy Sacrament, which I only receive with you and for you. So make, my daughter, make a thousand times a day these holy aspirations to God, protesting that you are wholly and entirely, for ever and eternally his. May Jesus ever live, for he is our life! May his holy love live and reign for ever in our hearts!
B-VI/6. To a Religious Sister: On the birth of the Infant Jesus.
You may think, my dear daughter, how my soul which loves yours extremely, fancies always that it can write to you, for truly I have a very great pleasure when my soul can entertain itself with yours. But these great feasts impose silence upon us inasmuch as they themselves ring with divine words, which tell us of the mystery which they represent. Indeed I know not what to say in presence of this divine Infant, for he speaks no word from his heart, full of fondness for ours, he reveals not himself except by lamentations, tears, and sweet looks: his sacred Mother is almost always silent, and marvelling at what is said to him. Oh! what great things does this silence speak to me! It teaches me to make mental prayer; it teaches me the loving fervour of a heart filled with affection, which cherishes these sweet thoughts while fearing to lose their sweetness if it utter them.
Meantime keep near this Mother, and do not leave her for a single moment, while she starts from Nazareth and goes to Bethlehem; while without eagerness but not without ardent movements of the soul she awaits the outcoming of the beautiful bird of Paradise. My dear daughter, you will see her, this fair Lady, this blessed daughter of Sion, Mother of the King of glory though she is, going about to beg hospitality in Bethlehem, and with no sort of shame, but glorying in this grace and blessed necessity.
I promise you that in this midnight Mass, in which it will seem to me that I shall see a crib on the altar, and the sweet Babe with his two eyes filling with tears more precious than pearls, I will offer him to God his Father with his Mother’s approval, and will ask him for you, that he may ever be the heart of your heart and the sole Beloved of your soul. O my daughter, tightly clasp this divine Infant in your arms, and give him that milk of humility and cordial sweetness which is his food. Ah! how sweet this mystery is!
Your St. Bernard’s first rapture was by the vision of it, and by this means his heart and his mouth became full of the milk of the holy Virgin and the tears of this sweet little Infant. Salute your little cousin from me, and likewise salute one another. As soon as you see the august little Infant born in your soul, tell him earnestly that I sacrifice to him my soul with yours eternally. Amen.
B-VI/7. To Mother de Chantal: On the mystery of Christmas.
Finding myself in these great feast days tied by a thousand engagements, it is really all but impossible for me to go and visit you, my dear daughter. I would, however, have gladly done so in order to entertain you all with some considerations on the holy mystery which we celebrate; but, my dear daughter, nothing will fail you, since you will be in the presence of that sacred Infant whose image you will have in your memory and imagination as if you saw him born in his poor little crib at Bethlehem. O my daughter, how many holy affections does this birth make rise within our hearts, above all of the perfect renunciation of the goods, the pomps, the consolations, of this world.
I do not know whether I find any mystery which so sweetly mingles tenderness with austereness, love with rigour, sweetness with severity. Never was seen a poorer or happier bringing forth; never so glorious or so well satisfied a Mother. Certainly she who bears the Son of God has no need to beg from the world exterior consolations. Saint Paula also preferred to live as a poor hospice-sister in Bethlehem, rather than to be a rich lady at Rome, for it seemed to her that she heard day and night in her dear hospital the infantine cries of the Saviour in the crib, or, as St. Francis used to say, of the dear Babe of Bethlehem, who inspired her with contempt for worldly grandeur and affections, and called her to most holy love of abjection. This dear little Saviour knows well, my dear daughter, that since the morning my heart cries out and begs Jesus for yours. Yes, sweetest Jesus, precious balm which givest all sweetness to Angels and to men, enter, possess the soul of this dear daughter. Enjoy these affections fully, in order that the odour of his sweet-scented name may spread out into all your actions. Ah! my daughter, you are all dear to me, because you hold nothing dear but Jesus, and since as I know well it is through him that I am very dear to you, let me therefore be still more so this year. But above all may Jesus be so more and more unto most holy eternity. Amen.
B-VI/8. To a Widow Lady: On the Feast of the Circumcision.
My Daughter—I am so greatly pressed that I have not the leisure to write you anything more than the great word of our salvation, Jesus. Yes, my daughter, can we not at least once pronounce that sacred name of our heart. Oh what a balm would it spread throughout all the powers of our spirit! How happy should we be, my daughter,, to have in our understanding Jesus only, in our imagination Jesus only. Jesus would be everywhere in us and we everywhere in him. Let us make trial of this, my very dear daughter, let us pronounce it as often as we can; and if for the present it is but with stammering, still at last we shall be able to pronounce it properly.
But what is the pronouncing it properly, that sacred name?—for you ask me to speak plainly to you. Alas! my daughter, I do not know. I only know that to express it duly there needs a tongue all of fire; that is, there needs nothing less than love divine, which by itself expresses Jesus in our life by impressing him in the depths of our heart. But courage, my daughter; undoubtedly we shall love God, for he loves us. Make yourself happy in this, and permit not your soul to be troubled about anything. I am, my dear daughter, I am in this same Jesus, yours most absolutely.
B-VI/9. To a Sister of the Visitation: On the Circumcision: wishes for the New Year.
My dear Daughter—When Holy Scripture wishes to speak of a person who is good, gentle, innocent and devoted to God, it says: he or she is a son or daughter of one year. O my daughter, if we have not hitherto corresponded with the love of this gracious Saviour, by a holy and inseparable union of our affections with his holy will, let us now so act that at the end of this year we may be able to be called children of one year.
I was saying yesterday, my dear daughter (for I wish to share our preachings with you), that when God desired to take under his protection the children of the Israelites, in order that the exterminating Angel should not slay them as he slew those of the Egyptians, he ordained that their doors should be sprinkled and marked with the blood of the Paschal lamb, and that so his divine Majesty marked for us with the blood of his Circumcision the gate and entrance of this year, in order that in it the exterminator of our children might have no power over them. Now you know who are our children; for I speak of those of the heart, our good purposes, our good desires, the fruits of our divine love.
I hope, my dear daughter, that we shall be of inviolable fidelity to this Saviour, and that these following years will be like the fertile years of Joseph, who by the way in which he employed them made himself viceroy of Egypt: for we will so employ our years, our months, our weeks, our days, our hours, our moments, that the whole will be used for God’s service, and will be profitable to eternal life, to reign with the Saints. But, my daughter, will we not be no longer those old ourselves that we were formerly, but be other ourselves, who will be without exception, without reserve, without condition, sacrificed for ever to God and to his love? Like the phoenix we will be renewed in this fire of divine love, for which we have, with an unalterable divorce, for ever given up and rejected the world and every kind of vanity.
Our little fits of anger, of sadness, these little shiverings of the heart, are remains of our maladies, which the sovereign Physician leaves in us in order that we may fear a relapse, and may remain in an entire submission. We will all the same continue to restore our strength day by day, and these little movements of the passions will grow weak, with God’s help. Have courage, my daughter, for this little Jesus loves you much. I am in him all yours.
B-VI/10. To a Religious Sister: The new year: the Infant Saviour.
Annecy, 8th January 1620.
O my dear Daughter—Let us employ this new year well, to acquire eternity. I see you, me seems, near the Infant of Bethlehem, and while kissing his feet begging him to be your King. Abide there, my dear daughter, and learn of him to be meek, humble, simple and amiable.
Let your soul, like a mystical bee, never leave this dear little King, but make its honey around him, in him and for him; indeed let it draw its honey from him, whose lips are all overflowing with grace, and on them, far more happily than they were seen on those of St. Ambrose, holy bees, collected in a swarm, do their sweet and gracious work.
B-VI/11. To a Bernardine Sister, his Cousin: On the Epiphany.
Our Lord loves you, my dear cousin, and loves you tenderly. If he does not make you feel the sweetness of his holy love, this is to make you more humble and more abject in your own eyes; but do not thereupon give up having recourse to his holy graciousness in all confidence, above all at this time when we represent ourselves to him as he was a little babe at Bethlehem. For why, my dear daughter, does he take this sweet and attractive state of a little child save to provoke us to love him with confidence and to confide in him with love?
Remain close to the Crib, this holy octave of the Kings. If you love riches, you will there find the gold which the Kings have left there; if you love the smoke of honours, you will find there that of the incense; and if you love the delicacies of the senses, smell there the odorous myrrh which perfumes the whole stable. Be rich in love for this dear Saviour, honourable in the familiarity with him to which you will aspire by prayer, and be filled with delight in the joy of feeling within yourself by holy inspirations and affections that you are most solely his. As to your little attacks of anger, they will pass away; or if they do not pass, it will be for your exercise and mortification.
At last, my dear cousin, since without reserve you will to be all for God, do not let your heart remain in trouble; and amidst all the dryness which can come to you, abide steadily in the arms of the divine mercy.
And as to these apprehensions which arise within you, they are from the enemy, who, seeing you now determined to live in Our Lord without reserve and without exception, will make all kinds of efforts to disturb you and to make the path of holy devotion hard. But you, on the contrary, must enlarge your heart by a frequent repetition of your protestation that you will never give in, that you will persevere in your fidelity, that you love the rigours of God’s service better than the sweetness of the world’s, that you will never abandon your Spouse.
Beware, my dear daughter, of giving up holy prayer, for you would play the game of your adversary; but constantly continue in this holy exercise, and wait for Our Saviour to speak to you, for he will some day say to you words of peace and consolation, and then you will know that your labour has been well employed and your patience useful.
Good night, my very dear daughter; glory in being all for God, and always protest that you are wholly his. Say often, Vive Jésus.
B-VI/12. To the Same: On the Feast of Candlemas.
You tell me, my very dear daughter, that your grief over the great and irrevocable adieux which we have said to the world is past: it is well said, my daughter; let us leave that world on one side, it is worthless. Ah! may this Egypt, with its garlics, its onions, and its gross flesh, be ever disgusting to us, that we may so much the better relish the delicious manna which Our Saviour will give us in the desert which we have entered. May Jesus then live and reign!
You desire not to tell untruths; this is a great secret for drawing the Spirit of God into our interior. Lord, who shall dwell in thy tabernacle? said David:[2] He who speaks the truth with all his heart, he answers. I quite approve of speaking little, provided that this little which you say is said graciously and charitably, and not morosely or affectedly. Yes, speak little and sweetly, little and well, little and simply, little and sincerely, little and kindly.
My daughter, you must from time to time exercise yourself in this self-renunciation and nakedness of heart, and ask it of God in all your exercises; but when there comes some other movement—of love, of union with God and of confidence—you must follow these without disturbing them by abnegation, for which you will leave a space at the end and in its place.
What sweetness it was yesterday to consider that fair Mother, with the little Babe hanging at her breast, as she goes to offer him in the Temple, and with that pair of doves, more favoured, methinks, than the greatest princes of the world, in being sacrificed for the Saviour. Ah! who will give us the grace that our hearts also may be so one day? But is not this Simeon glorious in thus embracing that divine Infant? Yes; but I cannot be pleased with him for the bad turn he wanted to do us; for being out of himself he wanted to carry him away with him into the other world. Now, he says, dost thou dismiss thy servant in peace.[3] Ah! but we still, my dear daughter, were sadly in need of him. Let us embrace him, let us live and die in these sweet embraces. Put this sweet Jesus on your heart, like a Solomon on his throne of ivory; make your soul often go before him, like a queen of Saba, to hear the sacred words which he continually inspires and breathes out. But take notice, this heart ought to be of ivory in purity, in solidity, in dryness, clear of the humours of the world, firm in its resolutions, pure in its affections.
I am not going, my very dear daughter, to that place which you had been told of, for I still live in obedience, which is imposed upon me not of God, but by the world; still it is permitted by God, and so I acquiesce in it. Live all for him who to be all ours made himself a little Child. I am in him all yours.
B-VI/13. To Mother de Chantal: On St. Joseph.
My dearest Daughter—Here is the Litany of the glorious father of our life and of our love. I intended to send you it written with my own hand, but, as you know, I am not myself. Still I have taken the time to revise it, to correct and to put in the accents, that our daughter de Chastel may more easily sing it without making mistakes.
But you, my daughter, who will not be able to sing the praises of this Saint of our heart, you will ruminate them, like the spouse, between your teeth; that is, while your mouth is closed your heart will be open to the meditation of the greatnesses of this spouse of the Queen of all the world, named father of Jesus, and his first adorer, after his divine Spouse.
B-VI/14. To the Same: On the Ascension of our Lord.
I give you joy, for that Our Saviour has ascended into heaven, where he lives and reigns, and where he wills that one day we should live and reign with him. What triumph in heaven, and what sweetness on earth! Let our hearts be where their treasure is,[4] and let us live in heaven, since our life is in heaven. O my daughter, how lovely that heaven is, now that Our Saviour shines as its sun, and his bosom is a fount of love, at which the Blessed drink as they will! Each one goes to look into it, and there he sees his name written, in a character of love that love alone can read, and love alone has graven.
O my God, shall not our names, my dear daughter, be there? They shall undoubtedly; for although our heart has not love, yet it has the desire of love and the beginning of love; and is not the sacred name of Jesus written in our hearts?—it seems to me that nothing can efface it. And so we must hope that ours will reciprocally be written in the mind of God. What a joy, when we shall see these divine characters which signify our eternal happiness! For my part, I have been able to think of nothing this morning except this eternity of goods which awaits us, but in which all would seem to me little or nothing but for this unchanging and ever actual love of that great God who ever reigns there.
Oh! my dear mother, how I marvel at the contradiction that is in me, in having sentiments so pure and actions so impure! For truly it seems to me that Paradise would be amidst all the pains of hell if the love of God could be there, and if the fire of hell were a fire of love, it seems that its torments would be desirable. I saw this morning that all the joys of heaven are truly nothing compared with this royal love. But whence is it that I do not love properly, since from this moment I can love properly? O my daughter, let us pray, strive, humble ourselves, invoke upon ourselves this love.
Never did the earth see eternity on its orb till this holy feast, when Our Lord, glorifying his body, gave, as I think, a desire to the Angels to have a like body, with whose beauty the heavens and the sun are not to be compared. Ah! how happy are our hearts to be expecting one day a share in so much glory, provided that they serve the Spirit well during this mortal life.
B-VI/15. To the Same: On the Feast of Pentecost.
Arise and depart, O north wind, and come, O south wind; blow through my garden, and let the aromatical spices thereof flow.[5] O my most dear daughter, how do I desire that gracious wind which comes from the south, from divine love, that Holy Spirit which gives us the grace of aspiring after him and of breathing for him! Ah! how I should like to give you some gift, my dear daughter! But, besides that I am poor, it is not fitting that on the day when the Holy Spirit makes his presents we should be engaged in making ours; we must only be ready to receive gifts in this great day of largess.
How great a need have I of the Spirit of strength! for I am indeed weak and infirm. Still I glory in it, that the power of Christ may dwell in me.[6] I would rather be infirm than strong before God, for the infirm he takes into his arms, while the strong he leads by the hand. May eternal wisdom be ever in our heart, that we may relish the treasures of the infinite sweetness of Jesus Christ crucified.
Tell our dear daughter that she must like me glory in weakness, which is the most proper condition for receiving strength: for to whom should strength be given if not to the weak?
Good night, my very dear daughter. May this sacred fire which changes all into itself deign to entirely transmute our heart, so that it may in future be nothing but love, and that so we may be no longer loving but love itself; no longer two but one single self, since love unites all things in a sovereign unity. Adieu, my dear daughter; let us persevere in the desire of this unity, which God, having made us enjoy it here below as far as our infirm condition can allow, will make us enjoy more perfectly in heaven.
B-VI/16. To a Lady: On the Feast of Pentecost.
My dear Daughter—Doubt not but that I love you more than ever, because I see you in the way of entering into that path of true devotion wherein one begins to detach one’s heart from all the things of the world, in order to be all God’s, that he may be able absolutely to dispose of you, that you may love only what God loves, that you may do his will and follow his counsels, that you may avoid with an extreme care all that can offend him, mortify your passions, regulate your life on the maxims of Jesus Christ, be humble and patient.
For the great secret of maintaining a good devotion is to have much humility. Be humble, and God will be on your side, and will sustain your good will. Give yourself to him without concealment and without reserve, asking him from the bottom of your heart that if up to now you have not served him well enough, he would have the goodness to pardon you and to fortify you in the resolution which you have taken of detaching yourself from all the affections of the world, and of attaching yourself to nothing save the love of God, and serving him faithfully with all your heart.
I should like also to communicate to you, my dear daughter, something of what I have just written to Mother Agnes[7] at the Carmelites, on the dispositions for receiving well the Holy Spirit at this great feast of Pentecost—that uncreated love, which without regard to his own advantage is everywhere occupied in seeking our good, often sending forth his fairest flames when we were least thinking of this holy splendour, to engage us to love him with all our power; and because this love is a gratuitous gift of his love, therefore ought we to love it with all our strength. We must not disturb ourself about our offences, for this Divine Spirit is often more liberal of his gifts to those who have been more ungenerous with their heart and affections towards him.
But, my dear daughter, we must testify to Jesus Christ all our confidence, with the holy Apostles and disciples, on whom he did not will to send his Holy Spirit till after he had ascended into heaven. If you ask me why this was, you must first know that the Holy Spirit is the wine of heaven, according to St. Bernard, who said that in heaven there was an overflowing abundance of this wine, I mean the joy of the Holy Ghost and beatific jubilee—but they had not that sacred bread of Christ’s humanity. The earth, on the other hand, had this sacred bread, which it made its delight and its joy; it had not that sweet and sparkling wine of the Holy Ghost, which was to inebriate our souls and crown them with joy.
And hence that admirable inference of Jesus Christ’s, when he showed his Apostles that it was not right to keep the humanity of Jesus Christ, and at the same time to have this admirable wine of heaven. There must be then, said Jesus Christ, a holy bargain between you and the Angels: you shall infallibly have from heaven that mighty wine of the Holy Ghost, if you share with it your sacred bread which is still on the earth and as it were in your hands—that is, the humanity of Jesus Christ. I think, my dear daughter, that this is enough to open your heart wide for the reception of the Holy Ghost, and of those tongues of fire and adorable flames. Adieu. I am entirely yours.
B-VI/17. To a Bernardine Sister: On the Feast of the Blessed Sacrament.
Your heart will be pure, my dear little daughter, since your intention is pure; and the idle thoughts which surprise you cannot sully it in any way. Remain at peace, and patiently support your little miseries. You are God’s without reserve; he will guide you well. If he does not deliver you from your imperfections so quickly, it is in order to deliver you from them more profitably, and to exercise you the longer in humility, that you may be firmly rooted in that beautiful virtue.
He who receives the most Holy Communion receives the living Jesus Christ, whose body, soul and divinity are in this divine Sacrament: and inasmuch as his divinity is the very same as that of the Father and the Holy Ghost who are but one sole God with him, he who receives the most Holy Eucharist receives the body of the Son of God, and consequently his blood and his soul, and consequently the most Holy Trinity.
But still this divine Sacrament is principally instituted that we may receive the body and the blood of Our Saviour with his life-giving life; as clothing covers primarily the body of man, although, because the soul is united to the body, it consequently covers the soul—the understanding, the memory, and the will.
Walk quite simply in this belief, and often salute the heart of this divine Saviour, who to testify to us his love, has willed to clothe himself with the appearances of bread, in order to remain most familiarly and most intimately in us, and near our heart.
Let us clearly see in spirit the holy Angels who surround the most Holy Sacrament to adore it, and who in this holy Octave pour forth sacred inspirations more abundantly on those who with humility, reverence, and love approach to receive it. My dear daughter, these divine spirits will teach you how to act to celebrate well these solemn days, and will teach you above all the interior love which will make you know how great is the love of our God, who to make himself more ours, has willed to give himself as food for the spiritual health of our souls, in order that nourished by him they may become more perfect.
B-VI/18. To Mother de Chantal: On the Feast of the Blessed Sacrament.
It is true, my dear sister, my daughter, that I have been a little tired in body; but in spirit and heart how could I be, after having held to my breast, close clasped to my heart, so divine an epithem as I did this morning during the whole procession? Alas! had I had my heart all empty by humility, and lowly bowed down by abjection, I should undoubtedly have drawn this sacred pledge to myself; he would have hidden himself within me; for he is so deeply in love with these virtues, that he is forcibly drawn towards them when he sees them.
The sparrow hath found herself a house, and the turtle a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, says David.[8] Oh! how this affected me when they sang that Psalm! I said: O dear Queen of heaven, chaste turtledove, is it possible that your little one has now for its nest my bosom? That word of the spouse also touched me greatly: My beloved to me and I to him; he abideth between my breasts;[9] for there was I holding him: and those words of the Beloved:[10] Put me as a seal upon thy heart. Ah! yes, my daughter; but having taken away the seal I do not see the impression of its characters in my heart. Is there a sweetness to be compared with it?
As to the business, I know not what to say except that one can in an hour determine oneself to the less evil; and the resolution having been taken one should content oneself with this that on whatever side one turns the affairs of this world, there will always be much to be desired and to be discussed; so that after one has formed one’s determination one should not occupy oneself in sighing after the imagination of better things, but in properly overcoming present difficulties, which moreover we cannot escape without encountering others greater, since every place is full of them. Good night, my very dear daughter: may the divine Saviour, the sole love of our hearts, be our eternal repose. Amen.
B-VI/19. To a Religious Sister: On the Feast of St. John Baptist.
Well, my dear daughter, if you cannot easily communicate often really, you can communicate as often as you like spiritually. And so you ask me for a good thought on St. John. This one is extremely sweet to me. On many occasions he had recognised our Lord: from the womb of his mother, rejoicing with joy at his presence and at the voice of his Mother, he already bore witness to the pleasure which he would have in seeing him, hearing him, conversing with him: yet he was deprived of it all. And for all that the Scripture witnesses, he never spoke with him as much as a full twice; but knowing that this divine Saviour was preaching and was communicating himself to all the world in Judæa, he remained solitary in a desert close by, not venturing to go to see him really, though he ever saw him spiritually.
Was there ever a like mortification, to be so close to his sole and sovereign love, and, for love of him, to remain without seeing him, hearing him, listening to him? Well, my dear daughter, you will do the same close to the Sacrament in which Jesus is; for you will only enjoy him in spirit, like St. John.
Yes, one could not say whether it was a heavenly man or an earthly Angel. His coat of armour, made of camel’s hair, represented his humility, which covered him all over; his girdle of tanned skin (peau morte) about his loins signified the mortification with which he restrained and bound up all concupiscence. He ate locusts, to show that whereas he was on earth, still he was perpetually elevating himself unto God. Wild honey served him for condiment, because the love of God sweetened all his austerities; but this love was wild or not from cultivation, because he had not learnt it from masters, but from the trees and rocks, as St. Bernard says.
Ah! my daughter, let us eat of both the wild and the hive-honey; let us amass that holy love at every opportunity, both by the example of our sisters, and by the consideration of other creatures; for all cries out to the ears of our heart: love, love. O holy love, come then, wholly and solely possess our hearts.
Truly, our good ladies of the Visitation are doing wonders, and those who see them are quite delighted with them. Vive Jésus! I am in him entirely yours, my dear daughter.
B-VI/20. To Mother de Chantal (?): On the Feast of St. John Baptist.
My most dear Mother—I should indeed like to have some beautiful bouquet from the desert of our glorious St. John, to present it to your dear soul; but mine, more sterile than the desert, has not been able to find one today, although indeed it has had this morning, and still has, a certain insensible little sense of willing no longer to live according to nature, but as far as possible according to Christian faith, hope, and charity, in imitation of that angelic man whom we see in those desert depths contemplating nought but God and himself.
Oh how blessed is the spirit of him who sees but these two objects, the one of which carries him up to the sovereign love, and the other lowers him to extreme abjection! For what could that great hermit say, in a place where there was only God and self, save: “Who art thou, Lord, and who am I?” I beseech Our Lord, who is the Lamb whom our great St. John pointed to us, to clothe you entirely with the most holy wool of his merits, my dear mother, my daughter.
Oh! what admirable purity of heart, what indifference to all things in this admirable human angel or angelic man, who seems almost not to love his Master in order to love him better and more purely! I do not know how he had the strength of heart to remain in his desert after he had seen Our Saviour, and had seen him go away from the place. Yet he continues his preaching, and with a holy hardness he does not permit himself to be overcome by the tenderness and sweetness of the love of the presence of his sovereign good, but for his love serves him in his absence with a love austere, constant, and strong. May God and the great St. John deign to visit you in the sweetness of their consolations, with all our daughters.
As to your grating, I think that for the present you had better make it of wood, while you are in a hired house, and have a door on it so that it need not all be opened. For at a profession, the revised Pontifical printed by order of the Pope directs the sister to go outside in order to come and take the vows. And as to getting the altar ready, one must see if one can continue to go outside for this; I see no difficulty, but we must go by the ideas of others.
Certainly, if my dear sister Anastase is to be professed on the day of the Visitation, I shall be very glad to officiate. One of these Prelates (Seigneurs) can be asked for another day, using the Sunday within the Octave.
B-VI/21. To the Same (?): On the Feast of St. John Baptist.
My very dear Daughter—Why have I not some worthy sentiment of joy for this angelic man, or human Angel, whose birth we are celebrating! What sweetness should I have in occupying myself with it! But I assure you that the greatness of my idea of him hinders me from giving myself this satisfaction.
I find him more than virgin, because he is a virgin even with the eyes, which he has fixed on the insensible objects of the desert, nor does he even know by the senses that there are two sexes; more than confessor, because he confessed the Saviour before the Saviour confessed himself; more than preacher because he preaches not only with the tongue but with the hand and the finger, which is the highest excellence of preaching; more than doctor, because he preached without having heard the source of doctrine; more than martyr, because the other martyrs die for him who died for them, but he dies for him who is still living, and pays back, according to his little measure, the death of his Saviour before it was given him; more than evangelist, for he preaches the Gospel before it was given; more than apostle, for he goes before him whom the Apostles follow; more than prophet, for he points out him whom the prophets predict; more than patriarch, for he sees him whom they believed in; and more than angel, and more than man, for the angels are pure spirits without bodies, and men have too much body and too little spirit: this man has a body and is but spirit.
I have an extreme pleasure while contemplating him in that gloomy but blessed desert which he wholly perfumes with his devotion, and in which, night and day, he pours forth ecstatic soliloquies and discourses before the great object of his heart—that heart which, seeing itself alone with its sole love, rejoices in the presence thereof, finds in solitude the multitude of eternal sweetnesses, and there sucks the heavenly honey, which it will soon after go to distribute to the souls of the Israelites, by the river Jordan.
Behold, my daughter, what an admirable Saint he is! He is born of one barren, he lives in the desert, he preaches to the hard and stony heart, he dies among the martyrs, and amidst all this asperity, he has a heart wholly filled with graces and benedictions! But this further is admirable, that Our Lord having said[11] that amongst those that are born of women there is not a greater prophet than John the Baptist, adds: But he who is lesser in the kingdom of God is greater than he.
O my dear daughter, it is true; for the lowest Christian when communicating is greater than St. John: and how is it that we are so little in sanctity?
Good night to you, my dear daughter, and to all the dear flock of our daughters. May the good St. John deign to bless them, with their dear mother.
B-VI/22. To the Same (Mother de Chantal) (?): On the Feast of St. John Baptist.
Is it not right, my dear sister, that not being able to see you I should at least go and wish you a happy feast in spirit? Behold what a great Saint here presents himself before the eyes of our mind! When I consider him in that desert, I do not know whether it is an Angel who appears to be a man, or a man who aspires to be an Angel. What acts of contemplation, what upliftings of spirit does he make there!
His food is admirable: for the honey represents the sweetness of the contemplative life, all drawn from the flowers of the sacred mysteries. The locusts represent the active life; for the locust never walks on the earth and never flies in the air, but by a mysterious blending of movements is seen sometimes leaping and sometimes touching the earth in order to take breath: and those who follow the active life alternately leap and touch earth: it lives on dew and does nothing except chirrup. My dear daughter, although according to our mortal condition, it is necessary to touch the earth so as to take order for the necessities of this life, yet our heart ought to relish nothing save the good pleasure of God in all this, and ought to refer all to the praise of God.
And that this earthly angel should be clothed with camel’s hair—what is the signification of all this? The camel with its hump, naturally fitted to bear burdens, represents the sinner. Alas! however good Christians may be, they must still remember that they are surrounded with sin; and if the sin does not touch them, at least there is always present some skin—of thoughts, temptations, and dangers. Ah! how proper a dress for preserving holiness is the robe of humility!
Behold, I pray, this holy young man buried in solitude. He is there by obedience, waiting to be called to go to the people. He keeps himself separated from the Saviour—whom he knew and kissed by affection from the womb of his mother—in order not to be separated from obedience; knowing well that to find the Saviour outside obedience is to lose him altogether. Further, he is born of a barren and aged woman, to show us that dryness and sterility can produce within us grace; for John means grace.
But particularly notice, my dear daughter, that immediately his father Zachary had written the name of this glorious infant on the tablets, he begins to prophesy, and to sing the beautiful canticle: Blessed be the Lord God of Israel.[12] Without doubt, this name, well graven on our hearts, I mean, the honour and imitation of this Saint, will make us prophesy and bless God with full benedictions.
I love this beautiful woodland nightingale, who being all voice and all song, and coming forth upon the ways of Judaea, first announces the coming of the sun. I beseech him to give you of his honey, of his locusts, and to share with you his mantle.
B-VI/23. To the Same (?): On the Feast of St. John Baptist.
Look at a rose, my most dear daughter. It represents the glorious St. John, in whom the scarlet dye of charity is more brilliant than the rose, which he resembles also in this that he lived amid the thorns of many mortifications.
But think how this great man had graven in the midst of his heart the holy Virgin and her Child, from the day of the Visitation, in which he first of mortals felt how amiable were the Mother of this Child and the Child of this Mother. Outside this Mother and this Child, nothing ought to engage the heart of my daughter or of her father. May the glorious and divine Jesus live and reign for ever in our spirits, within the arms of his holy Mother, as on his established throne.
Behold then, my dear daughter, how you have here a spiritual nosegay, where you see two lilies in a rose, one born within the other, both making blessed, with the odour of their sweetness and the perfection of their beauty, the rose of those hearts which by a perfect pricking mortification live stripped, despoiled, and free of all things, for their sakes. Ah! who will give us the grace of duly relishing the honey which this mother-bee makes in the midst of this sweet flower! Good night, my most dear mother; good night to all our sisters.
B-VI/24. To the Same (?): On the Feast of St. Peter.
Our great St. Peter, awakened from his sleep by the Angel,[13] gives you good day, my very dear mother. What sweetness is shown in the history of this deliverance! for his soul is so enraptured that he knows not whether or no he is dreaming. May our Angel touch our side to-day, awaken us to loving attention to God, deliver us from all the chains of self-love, and consecrate us for ever to this heavenly love, that we may be able to say: Now I know indeed that the Lord hath sent his Angel, and hath delivered me.
Peter, lovest thou me?[14]—not that he doubted it, but for the great pleasure which he takes in often hearing us repeat and protest that we love him?
My dear mother, do we not love the sweet Saviour? Ah! he knows well that if we do not love him we at least desire to love him. Oh if we love him, let us feed his sheep and his lambs; this is the mark of faithful love. But with what must we feed these dear little lambs? With love itself; for they either live not, or they live with love; between their death and love there is no alternative; they must die or love; for he that loveth not, says St. John,[15] abideth in death.
But do you notice an agreeable thought? Our Lord goes on to say to his dear St. Peter:[16] When thou wast younger thou didst gird thyself, and didst walk where thou wouldst; but when thou shalt be old thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird thee and lead thee whither thou wouldst not. Young apprentices in the love of God gird themselves, and take mortifications as seems good to themselves; they choose their penance, their subject of resignation and devotion, and do their own will at the same time as that of God; but old masters of the craft let themselves be tied and girded by others, submitting themselves to the yoke which others impose on them, go by ways which according to their own inclination they do not choose. It is true that they stretch forth their hands, for in spite of the resistance of their inclinations they voluntarily let themselves be governed against their wills, and say that obedience is better than sacrifices:[17] and behold how they glorify God, crucifying not only their flesh but their spirit.
Truly, yesterday while they were singing the Invitatory, and saying, “The King of the Apostles—come and adore him,” I had such sweet and agreeable sentiments that more could not be, and immediately I desired that it should flow out over our whole heart. O may God Our Saviour be ever all things unto us! Keep your heart uplifted into the bosom of this divine goodness and Providence, for it is the place of its repose. It is he who has made me all yours, and you all mine, that we might be more purely, perfectly, and solely his. Amen.
B-VI/25. To a Superioress of the Visitation: On the mystery of the Visitation.
Feast of St. Paul.
How very glad am I, my dear daughter, that these two daughters of our heart cannot fast to-morrow, and that in exchange they should have their little involuntary mortifications!—for I singularly love the trouble which the sole election of the heavenly Father sends us, as compared with that which we choose ourselves. But you who are so robust must of course fast on bread and water; that you must understand, my dear daughter—for you do not understand it unless I say it to you—that you must understand of the year to come, if it do come, for as to this year you must really be a Jew with the Jews, a Gentile with the Gentiles, must eat with those who eat, laugh with those who laugh, says the great Apostle of to-day.[18]
Feed therefore your little sheep, my dear daughter; and to-morrow you will see the poor little future Mother of the Son of God, coming sweetly to consult with her dear and holy husband and to get his consent to her making that pious visit to her aged cousin, Elizabeth. You will see how she says adieu to her dear neighbours for the three months which she expects to spend in the country and amongst the mountains—for that word is well noted. I think that they all let her go with a tender sorrow; for she was so amiable, and so greatly inspired love, that no one could be with her without love nor leave her without sorrow.
She undertakes her journey with a little eagerness, for the Gospel says, she went with haste.[19] Ah! the first fruits of the movements of him whom she has within her womb cannot fail to be made with fervour. O holy eagerness, which troubles not and which hastens us without making us precipitate.
The Angels are ready to accompany her, and St. Joseph to lovingly conduct her. I should greatly love to know something of the converse of these two great souls, for you would indeed be pleased that I should tell it you. At any rate, I think that the Virgin entertains herself with nothing but that of which she is full, and breathes only after the Saviour. St. Joseph in his turn aspires only towards the Saviour, who by secret rays touches his heart with a thousand unusual sentiments; and as the wines shut up in their cellars give out the scent of the flowering vines without perceiving them, so the heart of this holy patriarch gives out without perceiving them the perfume, the vigour, and the strength of this little Child who is in flower in his lovely vineyard.
Oh! what a glorious pilgrimage! The Saviour serves them as staff, as food and flask of wine—of wine I say which cheereth Angels and men,[20] and inebriateth God the Father with a love beyond measure. I leave you to think, my daughter, how good an odour this lovely lily spread throughout the house of Zachary, during the three months she was there, how every one was embalmed with it, and how in few but most excellent words she poured forth from her sacred lips honey and precious balm! For what could she pour out save what she was filled with?—now she was full of Jesus. Oh! my daughter, I marvel at myself that I am still so full of self after having communicated so often. Ah! dear Jesus, be the child of our inward hearts that we may nowhere breathe or smell of anything but you. Alas! you are so often in me, why am I so seldom in you? You enter within me, why am I so much outside of you? You are within my bowels, why am I not within yours to discover and collect that great love which inebriates hearts? My daughter, I am entirely engaged with this dear Visitation, in which Our Lord like a wholly new wine makes this loving affection seethe throughout the womb of his sacred Mother
B-VI/26. To a Sister of the Visitation: On the Feast of the Assumption.
Ah! how lovely is this dawning of the eternal day, which, rising towards heaven, goes on, methinks, ever increasing in the benedictions of its incomparable glory! May the odours of eternal sweetness, spread over the hearts of her servants, fill those of my dearest mother, as my own heart, and may our dear little congregation, entirely devoted to the praise of her Son and of the sacred breasts that gave him suck, enjoy the blessings prepared for the souls who honour her.
Yesterday evening I had a most particular sense of the advantage which one has of being a child, though unworthy, of this glorious Mother, star of the sea, fair as the moon, bright as the sun.[21]
My dear mother, I had a special consolation in seeing how she gave a robe of unequalled whiteness to her servant St. Ildefonsus, bishop of Toledo; for why will she not give one to our dear heart? You see I return everywhere to my flock: let us undertake great things, under favour of this Mother; for if we are a little fervent in her love she is careful not to leave us without the object that we aspire to.
Ah! when I remember that in the Canticles[22] she says: Compass me about with apples, I would gladly give her our heart; for what other apple can this fair fruit-tree want of me?
I return from my sermon, in which I should greatly like to have spoken more holily and lovingly of our glorious and sacred Mistress: I beseech her to deign to pardon me.
May God give us the grace to see ourselves one day consumed with divine love. Meantime, good night, my dearest mother.
The 15th August, day of the glorification of our most honoured mistress. May she be for ever our love.
B-VI/27. To a Superioress of the Visitation: On the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin.
7th September 1616.
I live in hope, my most dear daughter, that if my ingratitude close not Paradise to me, I shall one day enjoy by complacency that eternal glory in the enjoyment of which you will delight, after having holily borne the cross in this life, which Our Saviour has imposed upon you in the charge of serving him faithfully in your own person, and in the person of the many dear sisters, whom he wishes to be your daughters in him.
I salute them, these most dear daughters, in the love of the most holy Virgin, on whose cradle I invite them to throw flowers every morning during this holy octave; holy anxieties to imitate her, thoughts of serving her for ever, and above all lilies and roses of purity and ardent charity, with violets of most sacred and desirable humility and simplicity.
B-VI/28. To a Bernardine Sister, his Cousin: On the Feasts of All Saints and All Souls.
We must bear with this inconvenience of the love of our relations, who think there is no comparison between the satisfaction of being with them, and that which is found in the course of God’s service. So be in mental solitude, my dear cousin, my daughter, since you cannot be in real solitude. All is sweet to the sweet, and all is holy to the holy. You know in what manner one is to resist all these little attacks of impatience, vexation, and the rest.
Bless God, my dear daughter, for these little trials which occur to you in order to try your fidelity. Hear Mass in your heart when you cannot hear it elsewhere, and adore the Holy Sacrament.
As to the great feasts which are approaching, you have nothing further to do after your Office and services save to keep your spirit in the heavenly Jerusalem, amid those glorious streets which you will ever see resounding with God’s praises. Behold that variety of Saints, and ask of them how they got there; and you will learn that the Apostles arrived thither chiefly by love, the Martyrs by constancy, the Doctors by meditation, the Confessors by mortification, the Virgins by purity of heart, and all in general by humility. On the day of the Departed you will enter into Purgatory, and will see those souls full of hope, who will exhort you to advance in piety all you can, in order that at your departure you may be the less kept back from going to heaven. Good night, my dear daughter.
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[1] Cant. 3:4.
[2] Ps. 14:1. , 3.
[3] Luke 2:29.
[4] Matt. 6:21.
[5] Cant. 4:16.
[6] 2. Cor. 12:9.
[7] La grande mère Agnès.
[8] Ps. 83:4.
[9] Cant. 1. , 2.
[10] Ib. 8:6.
[11][11] Luke 7:28.
[12] Luke 1:68.
[13] Acts 12.
[14] John 21.
[15] 1. John 3:14.
[16] John 21:18.
[17] 1. Kings 15:22.
[18] Rom. 12:15.
[19] Luke 1
[20] From Judges 9:13.
[21] Cant. 6:9.
[22] Ib. 2:5.
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