Chapter I OF SELF-LOVE

SELF-LOVE may be mortified in us, but it, notwithstanding, never dies; on the contrary, from time to time, and on different occasions, it shoots forth germs in us which shew that although it may be cut off at the stalk, it is not yet rooted up.

This is the reason why we have not the consolation which we ought to have when we see others doing well; for what we do not see in ourselves is not so pleasant to us, and what we do see in our selves is extremely dear to us, because we love ourselves tenderly and profoundly.

This same self-love makes us well enough disposed to do this or that by our own choice; but we would not wish to do it by the choice of another person, or in the way of obedience. It is always ourselves; we seek ourselves, our own will, and our own self-love.

On the contrary, if we had the perfection of the love of God, we should be better pleased to do what we are commanded to do, because that comes more from God and less from ourselves.

As to our taking more pleasure in doing difficult things than in seeing them done by others, this may either arise from charity, or because our self-love secretly fears lest the others equal or surpass us. Sometimes we are more pained at seeing others illtreated than ourselves, from kindness of disposition: sometimes it is because we fancy that we are more courageous than they, and that we should bear the misfortune better than they could, according to the good opinion we have of ourselves. The indication of this is, that generally we had rather have little evils ourselves than allow others to have them; but as for great ones, we had rather others should have them than we.

After all, know that what you have mentioned are only feelings of the inferior part of the soul; for I am well assured that the superior part of it disavows all that. The only remedy is to disarm such feelings, invoking obedience, and protesting that we wish to love it, notwithstanding all repugnance, more than that which is of our own choice, praising God for the good which we see in others, and entreating Him to continue it. We must in nowise be astonished to find self-love in our hearts, for it never leaves us. Like the crafty fox, it sometimes pretends to be asleep, and then all at once wakes up; and for this reason we ought constantly to have an eye to it, and with all sweetness to defend ourselves against it. But if now and then it wounds us, we are healed by merely recalling what it has made us say, and disavowing what it has made us do. These sallies of self-love ought to be neglected. By disavowing them two or three times a day, one gets rid of them. There is no occasion to reject them by force of arms; one need only say the little word “no.”

Chapter II. THAT WE MUST NOT BE DISCOURAGED AT FEELING THE ATTACKS OF SELF-LOVE

I see in your letter a great reason for blessing God on behalf of your soul, in that it retains holy indifference in effect though not in feeling. There is nothing in all this that you tell me of your little sallies. These little surprises of passion are inevitable in this mortal life; for it is on their account that the great apostle cries to heaven, Unhappy man that I am! (Rom. vii. 23, 24.) I feel two men within me, the old and the new; two laws, the law of the senses and the law of the spirit; two operations, that of nature and that of grace.

Who shall deliver me from the body of this death?

Self-love never dies but with our bodies. We must always feel its sensible attacks or its concealed stratagems whilst we are in this exile; it suffices if we do not consent to it with a wilful, deliberate, settled, and admitted consent: and this virtue of holy indifference is so excellent, that our old man and the sensitive part of the soul, and human nature according to its natural faculties, was not capable of it even in our Lord, who, as a child of Adam, although exempt from all sin, and from all that belonged to it, in the sensitive part of His soul, and according to His human faculties, was in nowise indifferent, but desired not to die on the cross; indifference and its exercise being all reserved to the spirit, to the supreme part of the soul, to the faculties enkindled by grace, and finally to Himself, in that He was the new Adam.

Remain, then, in peace. When it happens to us to break the laws of indifference in indifferent things, by the sudden sallies of self-love and of our passions, let us, as soon as we can, prostrate our heart before God; let us say in a spirit of confidence and of humility, Lord, have mercy on me, for I am weak; let us rise up in peace and tranquillity, make fast once more the thread of our indifference, and then go on with our work.

We ought not either to break the chords or throw aside the lute, when we perceive a discord; we must apply our ear to perceive whence comes the disarrangement, and gently stretch or loosen the chord as the art prescribes.

I confess before Heaven and the angels, that you are precious to me as myself; but that does not take from me the very fixed resolution of entirely acquiescing in the divine will. We wish to serve God in this world, here and there: if He judges it better that we should be in this world or in the other, His most holy will be done.

Chapter III. OF ONE’S OWN JUDGMENT

You wish to know whether it is a thing contrary to perfection, to be subject to have opinions of one’s own? To which I reply, that it is a thing which is neither good nor bad, because it is all natural. Everyone has opinions of his own. What we must avoid is, attaching ourselves to them and loving them; be cause that attachment and that love are very contrary to perfection; and this is what I have said so often, that the love of our own judgment, and the value which we set on it, is the cause why there are so few perfect souls.

There are many people to be found who will renounce their own will, some on one subject, and others on another; I do not say only in religion, but amongst seculars, and even in the courts of princes. If a prince gives any orders to a courtier, he will never refuse to obey; but it very rarely happens that he will confess that the order was right. No one can doubt that this is very contrary to perfection, because it generally produces disquietudes of spirit, caprices, and murmurs; and finally, it nourishes the love of one’s own esteem.

The great St. Thomas, who had as great a capacity as it is possible to have, when he formed opinions, supported them on the most solid reasons he could; and nevertheless, if he met any one who did not approve of what he had judged to be good, or contradicted it, he never disputed with him, or was offended at it, but bore with it cheerfully; by which he shewed that he was by no means attached to his own opinions, although he did not disapprove of them. He left things so, whether people thought it good or not; after having done his duty, he did not trouble himself with the rest.

If superiors were to change their opinions in every conversation, they would be regarded as careless and imprudent in their government; but, on the other hand, if those who are not in office were to be attached to their own opinions, wishing to maintain them, and to make people accept them, they would be esteemed self-opinionated. For it is very certain that the love of our own opinion degenerates into this, if it is not faithfully mortified and cut down.

All the difference that exists between those who have a charge over others and those who have not, is, that the former can and ought to form opinions, in order to maintain a uniform conduct; whilst the latter may dispense with them, having nothing to do but obey; but if they do form them, they ought not, any more than the others, to attach themselves to them.

There are some persons of great talents, and at the same time excellent people, but who are so subject to their own opinions, and think them so good, that they are never disposed to loose hold of them. There are also minds of great capacity who are not subject to this defect, and who very readily renounce their opinions, even though they are very good: they do not arm themselves to defend them when they are contradicted. Melancholic persons are only more liable to this defect than those who are of a cheerful temperament.

To mortify this inclination, we should cut off its food. It is very true that we cannot hinder that first movement of complaisance which we feel when our opinion is approved and followed; but we must not amuse ourselves with this complaisance; we must bless God, and then pass on without troubling our selves with this feeling, any more than with a slight sense of pain that might come over us, if our opinion was not followed or thought good.

When we are required, either by charity or obedience, to give our advice on the subject that is under discussion, we must do it simply, making ourselves, for the rest, indifferent whether it is received or not. We must even sometimes express our views on the opinions of others, and shew the reasons on which we support our own; but it is necessary that this should be done modestly and humbly, without despising the advice of others, or disputing to have our own received.

The matter being decided, we must say no more about it, especially with those who were of our way of thinking; for that would be to nourish this defect, and to shew that we have not completely submitted to the advice of the others, and that we always prefer our own. We must not even think about it any more, unless the resolution taken is remarkably faulty; for in that case, if any means could still be found to prevent its execution, or to apply a remedy to it, we ought to adopt such means in the most charitable and quiet way we can, so as not to trouble any one, or to bring into contempt what they thought good.

The love of our own opinion is the last thing that we part with; and nevertheless it is one of the most necessary to part with, for the acquisition of true perfection; for otherwise we do not acquire holy humility, which forbids and prevents us from making any account of ourselves, or of anything that depends upon us; and consequently, if we have not the practice of this virtue to a considerable degree, we shall always be thinking better of ourselves than we deserve, and imagining that others moreover owe us the same deference.

Chapter IV. OF THE MORTIFICATION OF ONE’S OWN JUDGMENT

You ask me what must be done to bring about the death of our own judgment. To which I reply, that to make an end of it, we only have to sever it from all sorts of discourses and occasions where it wants to make itself master, taking care to let it know that it is but the servant; for it is only by reiterated acts that we acquire the virtues, although there are some of them that God gives all at once in a moment.

Therefore, whenever you feel tempted to judge whether a matter was rightly or wrongly ordered, sever this reflection from your own judgment: and when, a little after, you are told that you must do such a thing in such a way, do not amuse yourself with reasoning or determining whether it would not be better otherwise, but persuade your judgment that the thing could not be better done than is commanded.

I have never met a person who made no account at all of his own judgment, except two, who confessed to me that they were destitute of judgment. We have in our own days a very remarkable instance of the mortification of a man s own judgment: I allude to that of a great doctor, enjoying a great reputation, who having composed a book on dispensations and decrees, and this book having fallen into the hands of the Pope, his Holiness judged that it contained erroneous propositions, and wrote concerning them to that doctor, that he should strike them out of his book.

The doctor receiving that order, submitted his judgment so absolutely, that he would never attempt to justify himself; on the contrary, he thought that he was in the wrong, and had allowed his own judgment to be deceived; and ascending the pulpit, he read out the Pope s letter, and then stated that what the Pope had judged was extremely well judged, and that with his whole heart he approved of the censure.

This learned man was under no obligation to do this, since the Pope did not require him to do anything but cancel some passages which were not heretical, nor so manifestly erroneous as not to admit of defence; and in this he shewed great virtue and an admirable mortification of his own judgment.

We often enough see the senses mortified, because one s own will is interested in mortifying them; and it would be a shameful thing to shew ourselves obstinate when we ought to obey. What would people say of us? But we rarely find any persons thoroughly mortified in their own judgment. To confess that what is commanded us is good, to love it, to esteem it as a thing which is good for us and useful above every thing else; oh, here it is that the judgment proves obstinate. Many say, “I will do so and so, and in the way that you tell me; but I see clearly that it would be better otherwise.”

Alas, what are you doing, if you thus feed your own judgment? Without doubt it will intoxicate you; for there is no difference between a person intoxicated, and one who is full of his own judgment. Nabal having refused provisions to David and to his attendants, on one occasion when he was flying from before Saul, Abigail, the wife of Nabal, to appease the anger of David, who would have devastated Nabal’s possessions with fire and sword, excused her husband by saying that he was drunken and senseless. It is necessary to make the same excuses for him who is full of his own judgment as for a drunken person; for the one is no more capable of reason than the other. It is necessary, then, to check our own judgment from making its considerations, that it may not intoxicate us with its reasons, above all in matters regarding obedience.

Chapter V. OF OVER-GREAT TENDERNESS FOR ONE’S SELF

You ask me if the tenderness which we have for ourselves is a great hindrance to us in the path of perfection.

To understand this, we must remember that there are in us two sorts of love: the affective love, and the effective love. To explain the difference between these two sorts of love, theologians are accustomed to avail themselves of the comparison of a father who has two sons, one of whom is yet a child, but amiable and of good promise; and the other is a grown man, brave and generous. The father greatly loves these two sons, but with a different kind of love; for he loves the one who is still a child with a love extremely tender and affective; he caresses him, he kisses him, he holds him on his knees and in his arms with an incomparable sweetness, as well for himself as for the child: suppose this child has been stung by a bee, the father never ceases to soothe him until the pain is abated. If his eldest son had been stung by a hundred bees, he would not deign to turn his head round, although he loves him with a love mightily strong and solid.

Consider, I pray you, the difference of these two loves. For although you have seen the tenderness of this father for his little one, he nevertheless does not give up forming the intention of sending him away from the house, destining his eldest son to be his heir and the successor to his property. The latter, therefore, is loved with an effective love, and the former with an affective love. Both the one and the other are loved, but in a different way.

The love which we have for ourselves is, in like manner, either effective or affective. Effective love is that which stirs and drives to action those who are ambitious of honours and riches, who never say, It is enough. Affective love applies to those who are very tender over themselves, who do nothing but complain, and who are so afraid of anything hurting them, that it is lamentable to observe them. If they are sick, though perhaps it is but the tip of their finger that aches, nobody suffers so much as they do, or is so miserable; no sickness is to be compared to that which they suffer, and one cannot find physicians enough to attend to them. They never cease physicking themselves, and whilst they think to preserve their health, they lose and ruin it entirely. If others are sick, it is nothing, it is only themselves who have a right to complain, and they weep tenderly over themselves, to move others to compassion; they do not care whether we think them patient or not, provided we think them sick and afflicted.

Imperfections characteristic of children, and if I may venture to say so, of women, and of men who have effeminate souls; for these imperfections are never found in generous souls, and well-constituted minds never attend to these follies, which are only adapted to stop our progress in the path of perfection; and after that, not to be able to endure being thought feeble by others, is it not to be really so in a high degree?

This feebleness is much more insufferable in spiritual than in bodily things; and nevertheless it is unfortunately most indulged in by spiritual persons, who would be saints all at once, without choosing to be at the expense even of the sufferings caused by those conflicts which the inferior part of the soul sustains from things painful to nature: however, whether we choose it or not, we must needs have the courage to suffer, in resisting these efforts all the days of our life, unless we wish to renounce the perfection which we have undertaken.

Chapter VI. HOW WE MUST DESTROY THE OLD ADAM

You ask me, How am I to destroy the old Adam? How? By punctual obedience to your rules. I assure you, on the part of God, that if you are faith ful to do what they teach you, you will obtain the victory. Observe, I say, “to do” because we do not acquire perfection by sitting with our arms folded; it is necessary to labour with one s whole heart at conquering oneself, and to live according to reason, according to the rule, and according to obedience; and not according to the inclinations which we have brought with us from the world.

Religion tolerates our bringing with us our bad habits, passions, humours, and inclinations, but not that we should live according to their dictates. She gives us rules to serve as presses to our hearts, and to wring out from thence whatever is contrary to God. Live, then, courageously according to those rules.

But some sister will say to me, “How can I do that? I have not got the spirit of the rule.” Certainly, I can easily suppose so. That is a thing which one does not bring with one out of the world into religion. The spirit of the rule is acquired by faith fully practising the rule. I say the same to you of holy humility and sweetness. God will infallibly give it to us, provided that we have a good heart, and do all in our power to acquire it. Blessed shall we be, if, a quarter of an hour before our death, we find ourselves clothed in that robe. The whole of our life will be well employed if we occupy ourselves in first sewing on one piece to it, and then another; for this holy habit is not made out of one piece only—it is requisite that it should have many.

You perhaps think that perfection is to be found ready-made, and that you only require to put it on, as you would put on a garment; but it is not so; it is necessary to make it yourself, and to clothe yourself with it.

You tell me that our sisters the postulants have a good will, but that they feel their passions so strong, that they are greatly afraid of yielding to them. Courage, my dear daughters: I have often said to you that religion is a school where a lesson is being learnt; the master does not always insist that his scholars shall know their lesson without any mistake. Those who are learning to fence often fall; and in the same way do those who are learning to ride on horseback; but they do not for all that think themselves beaten. For it is one thing to fail sometimes, and another thing to be absolutely beaten. Because your passions make head sometimes, you say: I am not fit for religion. Oh, no! for religion does not esteem it a great triumph to fashion a spirit readymade, a sweet and tranquil soul; but she reckons it of great price to reduce under the dominion of virtue souls strong in their inclinations; for if these souls are faithful, they will outstrip the others, acquiring, as it were, at the sword s point of the spirit, what the others have without difficulty.

It is not required of you to be without passions, that is not in your power; and God wills that you shall feel them up to the time of your death, for your greater merit; nor is it even required that your passions should be not very strong, for that would be to say that a soul which has bad habits would not be fit for God’s service; in which the world deceives itself, for God rejects nothing of that which is free from malice. Wherein, I beseech you, is a person faulty for being of this or that temperament, subject to this or that passion? All consists in the acts which we do by the movement of our will, sin being so voluntary, that without our consent there is no sin.

If it happens, then, that I am surprised by anger, I say to it: Away, begone; burst thyself if thou wilt; I will do nothing in thy favour, not even utter a word according to thy impulse. God has left this power in our hands; otherwise, to demand of us perfection, would be to oblige us to an impossibility, and consequently to make an unjust demand, which cannot be found in God.

You are happy, my dear daughters, at the expense of us who are in the world. When we ask the road, one says to us, It is on the right; another says, It is on the left; and in the end they most generally deceive us; but as for you, you have only to allow yourself to be carried along, following faithfully your rules, and you will arrive happily at God.

You tell me that our sisters say: It is good to go by the rules; but that is the general way; God draws us by particular attraits; each has his own, we are not all drawn by the same road. They are right in saying so, and it is true: but it is also true, that if this attrait comes from God, it will doubtless conduct them to obedience. It does not belong to us inferiors to judge of our particular attraits; that is the duty of superiors; and for that end, particular direction is ordered. Be faithful to it, and you will reap from thence the fruits of benediction. If you do what you are told to do, you will be very happy, you will live contented, and you will experience, even in this world, the favours of Paradise, at least by little snatches.

Chapter VII. OF MISTRUST IN OURSELVES, AND OF OUR SPIRITUAL ENEMIES

Do you perceive it often happens, that when we think we are entirely rid of the old enemies over whom we have formerly gained the victory, we see them come on a side where we expected them the least? Alas, that wisest man in the world, Solomon, who had done such marvels in his youth, and felt himself fully assured in his long habit of virtue, and in the confidence of the years he had gone through, when he seemed out of the reach of danger, he was surprised by the very enemy whom, in the ordinary course of things, he had the least reason to fear.

This was to teach us two important lessons: the one, that we ought always to mistrust ourselves, walk with a holy fear, ask continually the assistance of Heaven, live in a humble devotion; the other, that our enemies may be repelled, but not killed. They leave us sometimes at peace, but it is to make a stronger fight against us.

But notwithstanding all this, you must in nowise be discouraged; but on the contrary, with a peaceful courage, take time and pains to cure your soul of the evil which it may have sustained from these assaults, humbling yourself profoundly before our Lord, and by no means being astonished at your misery. Certainly it would be a thing worthy of astonishment, if we were not subject to these assaults and miseries.

These little shocks make us return unto ourselves, consider our fragility, and have recourse more earnestly to our Protector. St. Peter walked with great confidence on the waters, the wind arose, and the waves seemed to be swallowing him up; then he cried, Lord, save me. And immediately Jesus, stretchingforth His hand, took hold of him, and said to him: thou of little faith, why didst thou doubt? (St. Matt. xiv. 30, 31.) It is amidst the troubles of our passions, the winds and storms of temptation, that we call upon the Saviour; for He never suffers us to be disturbed, but to incite us to call upon Him more fervently.

Lastly, do not distress yourself, or at least do not trouble yourself at having been troubled. Do not agitate yourself at having been agitated. Do not disquiet yourself at having been disquieted by these distressing passions; but take heart again, and place your heart sweetly in the hands of our Lord, entreating Him to heal it; and on your side do all that you can, by the renewal of your resolutions, by the reading of books adapted to effect this cure, and by other suitable means; and in this way you will gain much by your loss, and you will become the more whole by your sickness.

Chapter VIII. OF SPIRITUAL FRIENDSHIPS

I at length received the news which this good daughter whom you know sent me concerning the little disappointment she had had in the spiritual friendship of the person to whom she had given her confidence. Do not let her be at all astonished at this inconvenience; for it is only the soil and rust which is wont to grow in the human heart on the most pure and sincere affections, if we do not take good heed against it.

Do we not see that the vines which produce the best fruit are the most subject to superfluities, and most require to be pruned and clipped? Such is friendship, even spiritual friendship. But there is this also to be observed, that it is necessary that the hand of the vine-dresser who prunes them be the more delicate, in proportion to the slenderness and delicacy of the superfluities which grow there, which at their beginning one could hardly see, unless one rubbed one’s eyes and looked very attentively. It is no wonder, then, if we are deceived in this.

But that daughter ought to bless God that this disappointment has happened to her in the commencement of her devotion; for it is an evident sign that His Divine Majesty wishes to conduct her by His hand, and to make her, by means of escaping this danger, wise and prudent to avoid many other such.

O God, how rare it is to see fire without smoke! although, indeed, the fire of celestial love has none, whilst it remains pure; still, when it begins to intermeddle with other objects, it also begins to contract the smoke of disquietude, of irregularities, and of unruly movements of the heart. But God be praised that all is well settled and in a good state.

It is a characteristic of the friendships which Heaven forms in us, that they never perish, any more than the source from which they have issued dries up; and that presence does not nourish them, any more than absence makes them languish or come to an end, because their foundation is every where, which is God Himself.

For the rest, there was no harm in mentioning it in such a way that it would be understood who was alluded to, since it was impossible to tell it in any other way; and the discreet adviser of souls never finds anything strange, but receives every thing with charity, compassionates every thing, and knows well that the mind of man is subject to vanity and disorder, except it be by a special assistance of the Truth.

It only remains for me to tell you, that the most assured path of devotion is that which is at the foot of the cross, that of humility, of simplicity, of sweetness of heart.

May God be ever in your heart!

Chapter IX OF HUMILITY

What is humility? Is it the knowledge of our misery and poverty? Yes, says St. Bernard; but that is human humility. What, then, is Christian humility? It is the love of this poverty and lowliness, in consideration of that of our Lord.

Know that thou art a creature, poor and little. Love to be such; glory in being nothing; be well content therewith, since thy misery serves for an object to God’s goodness on which to exercise His mercy.

Among the poor, those who are the most miserable, and whose wounds are the sorest and most pitiable, consider that they are the best poor, and the fittest to attract alms. We are nothing but poor people, the most miserable are of the best condition, and the mercy of God looks on them the most willingly.

Let us humble ourselves, I beseech you, and let us preach nothing but our wounds at the gate of the temple of Divine goodness. But remember to preach them joyfully, consoling yourself at being altogether empty, that God may satisfy you with His kingdom. Be sweet and affable to every one, except to those who would rob you of your glory, which is your misery. I glory in my infirmities, says the Apostle. (2 Cor. xii. 9.) And to me to die is gain (Phil. i. 21), rather than to lose my glory. Do you see he preferred rather to die than lose his infirmities, which are his glory?

You must take good care of your misery, your lowliness; for God takes care of it, as He did of that of the Holy Virgin. (St. Luke i. 48.) Man seeth those things that appear, but the Lord beholdeth the heart. (1 Kings xvi. 7.) If He sees our lowliness in our heart, He will give us great graces.

This humility preserves chastity. This is why in the Canticles that beautiful soul is called the lily of the valleys. (Cant. ii. 1.) Keep yourself therefore cheerfully humble before God, but keep yourself equally cheerful and humble before the world. Be very content if the world makes no account of you. If it values you, cheerfully ridicule it, and laugh at its judgment, and at your misery which it accepts; if it does not value you, comfort yourself cheerfully on the ground that at least in this instance the world follows the truth.

As to your exterior, do not affect visible humility, but also do not avoid it. Embrace it, but always cheerfully. I approve of your sometimes humbling yourself to lowly services, even for inferiors and proud persons, for the sick and poor, for those about you in the house and out of it; but always do this with simplicity and cheerfulness. Offices of a humble kind, and belonging to exterior humility, are only the shell, but the shell preserves the fruit.

Chapter X. OF THE SPIRIT OF HUMILITY

To understand what is meant by the spirit of humility, it is necessary to know that, as there is a difference between pride, the habit of pride, and the spirit of pride, there is also a difference between humility, the habit of humility, and the spirit of humility.

If you do an act of pride, there is pride. If you do such acts on every occasion, and wherever you go, there is the habit of pride. If you take pleasure in those acts, and are on the look-out for them, there is the spirit of pride.

In the same way, if you do an act of humility, there is humility. If you do acts of humility on all occasions, and wherever you go, there is the habit of humility. If you take pleasure in humiliation, and are on the look-out for abjection in every thing, there is the spirit of humility.

It is therefore not sufficient, in order to have the spirit of humility, to do some acts of humility, nor even to do such often; it is further necessary, in all that we do, say, or desire, that our principal end should be to humble and abase ourselves, and that we should take pleasure in humiliation, and seek for abjection in all things.

It is a good practice of humility, never to look upon the actions of our neighbours, except to remark the virtues that are in them, but never their imperfections; for so long as we are not in charge of them, we must never turn our eyes, and still less our attention, on that side.

We must always put the best construction that we can upon what we see our neighbour do. In doubtful matters, we ought to persuade ourselves that what we noticed is not bad, but that it is our imperfections that cause such a thought to arise in our minds; that thus we may avoid rash judgments, which are a very dangerous evil, and for which we ought to have a sovereign detestation. In cases clearly wrong, we ought to have compassion for our neighbour, and humble ourselves for his defects as if they were our own, and pray God for his amend ment with the same heart we should for our own, were we subject to the same defects.

But what can we do, you say, to acquire this spirit of humility?

Oh, there is no other way but frequent repetition of its acts. Humility makes us annihilate ourselves in all those things which are not necessary for our advancement in grace, such as good speaking, noble mien, great talents for the management of affairs, a great spirit of eloquence, and the like; for in these exterior things we ought to desire that others should succeed better than ourselves.

Chapter XI OF ABJECTION

Love your abjection. But, say you, what means this, Love your abjection? for I but faintly comprehend it. Well, then, it is this. If you remain humble, tranquil, sweet, full of confidence in the midst of this obscurity; if you do not make your self impatient, or trouble yourself for all this, but with a good heart—I do not say gaily, but I do say freely and firmly—embrace this cross, and remain under these clouds, you will love your abjection. For what else is it to be abject but to be in obscurity? Love to be so for the love of Him who wishes you to be so, and you will love your own abjection. In Latin, abjection is called humility, and humility is called abjection; so that, when our Lady says, Because He hath regarded the humility of His handmaid (St. Luke i. 48), she means to say, Because He hath had regard to my abjection and vileness.

Nevertheless there is some difference between the virtue of humility and of abjection; because humility is the admission of one s abjection. Now the highest degree of humility is not only to admit one’s abjection, but to love it; and it was to this that I exhorted you.

In order that I may make myself better understood, know that, among the evils that we suffer, there are some which are abject, and others which are honourable. Many accommodate themselves to honourable evils; few to abject ones. For example: Behold a Capuchin, all in rags and exposed to the cold; every one honours his ragged habit, and compassionates him in the cold. Behold a poor artisan, a poor widow, a poor scholar, who is situated in the same way: people scorn them, and their poverty is abject. A religious will suffer patiently the censure of his superior, and every one will call that mortification and obedience. A gentleman will suffer as much for the love of God, and people will call it weakness and a want of courage. Behold an abject virtue, and a despised suffering. Behold a man who has a cancer in his arm, another has one in his face: the former conceals it, and has only the evil; the latter cannot conceal it, and, together with the evil, he has the contempt and the abjection. Now I say that we must not only love the evil, but also the abjection.

More than this; there are abject virtues, and there are honourable virtues. Generally speaking, patience, sweetness, mortification, simplicity among people of the world, these are abject virtues; to give alms, to be affable, gracious, and prudent, are honourable virtues.

There are some actions belonging to the same virtue which are abject, and others which are honourable. To give alms and to pardon offences are actions of charity: the first is honourable, and the other is abject, in the eyes of the world. I am ill, and amongst people who get tired of me: behold abjection joined to the evil of sickness. Young ladies of the world, seeing me in the habit of a true widow, say that I am affecting to be devout; and seeing me smile, however modestly, they say that I would still be sought after; that nobody can suppose that I do not wish for more honour and consequence than I have, or that my love for my vocation is unmixed with regret. All these are morsels of abjection: to love all this, is to love one’s own abjection.

Behold another instance of the same kind. We are going, my sisters and I, to visit the sick. My sisters send me to visit those who are the most miserable objects: behold an abjection according to the world. They send me to visit the less miserable objects: behold an abjection according to God; for this, the latter visit, is, in the eyes of God, the less worthy of the two, and the former in the eyes of the world. Now I will love both the one and other when it shall fall to my lot. Going to the most miserable, I will say: It is well said that I am abased. Going to the less miserable: It is well said; for I have not merit sufficient to make a more holy visit.

I make some mistakes; it renders me abject—that is good. I fall into uncontrolled anger; I am grieved for having offended God, and very glad that this proclaims me to be vile, abject, and miserable.

Nevertheless, take good heed to what I am about to say to you. Although we love the abjection which follows from the evil, we ought not for that reason to give up attempting to remedy the evil. I will do what I can not to have a cancer in my face; but if I have one, I will love the abjection of it: and in matters of sin we must adhere to this rule still more strongly. I have been irregular in this or that; I am grieved at it, although I embrace with a good heart the abjection which arises from it; and if one could be separated from the other, I would cherish dearly the abjection, and drive away the evil and the sin. Further, we must have regard to charity, which sometimes requires us to remove abjection for the edification of our neighbour; but in this case we must remove it from the eyes of our neighbour, who would be scandalised by it, but not from our heart, which would be edified by it.

Lastly, you wish to know what are the best kinds of abjection. I say to you that they are those which we have not chosen, and which are least agreeable to us; or, to express it better, those for which we have not much inclination; but, to speak precisely, those of our vocation and profession; as, for example, this married woman would choose any other sort of abjection except that which is attached to her state of life; that religious would obey any one else rather than her superioress; and for myself, I would rather be reprimanded by a superioress in religion than by a father-in-law in my house. I say that to each person his own abjection is the best, and our choice takes from us a great part of our virtues. Who will give to us the grace to love our abjection well? No one can give it to us, but He who loved His own so well, that to preserve it He chose to die.

Chapter XII OF AFFLICTIONS

Oh, how precious are those stones which seem so hard! All the palaces of the heavenly Jerusalem, so shining, so beautiful, so lovely, are made of these materials, at least in the mansions set apart for mankind; for in those of the angels, the buildings are indeed of another sort, but not of a material so excellent. And if envy could reign in the kingdom of eternal love, the angels would envy mankind two excellences, which consist in two sorts of suffering: the one is that which our Saviour endured on the cross for us, and not for them, at least so entirely; the other is that which men endure for our Lord: the suffering of God for man, and the suffering of man for God.

If you cannot make long prayers in your infirmities, turn your infirmities themselves into a prayer, by offering them to Him who hath so loved your infirmities, that in the day of His espousals, and in the day of the joy of His heart, as the Spouse saith, He will crown Himself and glorify Himself with them. (Cant. iii. 11.) We must leave to our sweet Lord that most loving disposal, with which He often bestows on us more good through labours and afflictions than through happiness and consolation.

You are surrounded with crosses. Now holy love will teach you that, in imitation of the great Lover, you must be on the cross as though unworthy to suffer anything for Him who endured so much for us, and with patience, so as not to come down from the cross till after your death, if it so pleases the eternal Father.

Here are indeed many fires. The fever, like a fire, scorches your body; the fire, like a fever, burns your house. But I hope that the fire of heavenly love will so occupy your heart, that on all these occasions you will say, The Lord gave me rny health and my house; the Lord has taken away my health and my house: as it hath pleased the Lord, so is it done; blessed be the name of the Lord. (Job i. 21.)

But this impoverishes and greatly incommodes us, it is true. But blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. (St. Matt. v. 3.)

You ought to have before your eyes the sufferings and the patience of Job, and look at that great prince seated on the dunghill. He had patience, and God at last gave him twice as much as he had before of temporal goods, and of eternal goods an hundredfold. (Job xlii. 10.)

You are a daughter of Jesus Christ crucified. Well, then, how strange it would be if you did not partake in His cross! I was dumb, said David, and I opened not my mouth, because Thou hast done it. (Ps. xxxviii. 10.)

Oh, by how many painful occurrences do we pass on to that holy eternity! Cast your confidence and your thoughts wholly on God: He will take care of you, and will extend to you His favourable hand.

Chapter XIII CONTINUATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT

It is the truth, that nothing can give us a deeper tranquility in this world, than frequently to look upon our Lord in all the afflictions which came upon Him from His birth until His death; for we shall there see so much scorn, calumny, poverty, need, abjection, pains, torments, injuries, and all sorts of bitterness, that, in comparison with it, we find out that we were wrong in calling by the name of affliction, pain, and contradiction, those little accidents which happen to us, and in desiring patience for such a trifling matter, since one little drop ofmodesty should amply suffice to support that which happens to us.

A heart which values and greatly loves Jesus Christ crucified, loves His death, His pains, His torments, His spittings, His insults, His hungerings, His thirstings, His ignominies; and when such a heart happens to have some little participation in all these things, it trembles with joy on that account, and lovingly embraces them.

You ought, therefore, every day, not merely in meditation, but as you walk abroad, to take a view of our Saviour amidst the pains of our redemption, and consider what a happiness it will be for you to partake in them; to consider on what occasion this blessing may be obtained, that is to say, to consider what contradictions you can have in all your desires, but above all, in those which shall seem to you the most just and lawful; and then, with a great love of the cross and passion of our Lord, you ought to cry out with St. Andrew: “good cross! so much beloved by my Saviour, when wilt thou receive me within thine arms?”

Do you not see that we are over-delicate in calling by the name of poverty a state in which we have neither hunger, nor cold, nor ignominies, but only some little obstacles in our designs.

Form well in your mind the idea of eternity, on which whoever frequently thinks, troubles himself very little about what happens in these three or four moments of mortal life.

What a grace, to be not only under the cross, but on the cross, and at least a little crucified with our Lord! Be of good courage, and convert necessity into virtue; and do not lose the opportunity of well shewing forth your love towards God in the midst of tribulations, as He will shew forth His towards us in the midst of thorns.

Do not in any wise be astonished if you do not yet see much progress either in your spiritual or your temporal affairs. God has concealed in the secret of His Providence the time in which He wills to hear you, and the way in which He will hear you; and perhaps He will hear you excellently, by not hearing you according to your thoughts, but according to His own.

Abide in peace in the fatherly arms of that most loving care which the heavenly Father and King has and will have for you, since you are all for Him, and no longer for yourself. Oh, how great a favour it is when He keeps back and preserves His bounties for life eternal!

This life is such, that we must needs eat more wormwood than honey; but He for whom we have resolved to maintain holy patience, in the face of all opposition, will give us the consolation of His spirit in its season. Do not lose your confidence, says the Apostle, which hath a great reward. For patience is necessary for you: that, doing the will of God, you may receive the promise. For yet a little, and a very little while, and He that is to come will come, and will not delay. (Heb. x. 35–37.)

Chapter XIV CONTINUATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT

The recital of your sorrows touches me with compassion; but I see clearly that the end of them will be happy, since our good God is making you profit in His school, in which you are more watchful than formerly. Courage, let us go forwards; let us go the whole length of these lowly valleys; let us live, cross in hand, with humility and patience.

What matters it to us whether God speaks to us among the thorns or among the flowers? But I do not remember that He has ever spoken among the flowers, though I remember right well that He has many times spoken among the deserts and briers.

Proceed then, and get over the ground in this stormy and dark time; and believe that the weather is better fitted for the journey than if the sun was pouring its ardent heat upon our heads.

O God! be of good courage. Light is not in our power, nor any other consolation except that which depends on our will; which being sheltered by the holy resolutions we have made, the great seal of the heavenly chancery being on your heart, there is nothing to fear. We have no recompense without victory, and no victory without war. Take, therefore, courage, and convert your pain, which is without remedy, into matter of virtue. Often turn your eyes to our Lord, Who looks upon you, and beholds you in the midst of your labours and distractions. He sends you succours, and blesses your afflictions.

You ought, on this consideration, patiently to take and sweetly to bear the vexations which come upon you, for the love of Him who only suffers this exercise for your good.

Lift up, therefore, your heart often to God, ask His aid, and make the happiness you derive from being dependent on Him your principal basis of consolation.

All subjects which pain you will be of slight importance, when you know that you have such a friend, so great a support and so excellent a refuge.

Raise your head to heaven, and see that not one of the mortals who are immortal there, arrived thither except by continual afflictions and troubles. Say often in the midst of your contradictions: This is the way to heaven, I see the port, and I am assured that the storms cannot hinder me from going thither.

Do not let us vex ourselves with our storms and tempests, which sometimes trouble our heart and take away our tranquility.

Let us mortify ourselves to the very depths of our spirit; and provided that our dear spirit of faith is faithful, let us allow every thing to be overturned, and live in confidence.

Although every thing died within us, provided that God lives in us, what ought it to matter to us? Come, come, we are in a good road. Let us look neither to the right hand nor to the left: no, this is the best for us.

Chapter XV. THAT WE MUST SUFFER IN TRANQUILITY AND LOVE

We ought above all things to secure our tranquility: not because it is the mother of contentment, but because it is the daughter of the love of God, and of the resignation of our own will. The occasions of practising it occur daily; for we shall never want contradictions in whatever place we are; and if no one offered them to us, we should make them for ourselves.

My God, how holy and pleasing to God we should be, if we knew how to make good use of the opportunities of mortifying ourselves with which our vocation furnishes us! for they are greater without doubt than amongst religious; the misfortune is, that we do not make them profitable as they do.

Manage yourself with great care whilst your present infirmity lasts; do not trouble yourself to force your mind to any exercise, except very gently. If you get tired with kneeling, sit down. If you have not sufficient power of attention to pray for half an hour, pray for a quarter only, or half a quarter. I beg of you to put yourself into the presence of God, and to bear your sorrows in His sight.

Do not restrain yourself when you would complain; but I would have you do it to God with afilial spirit, as a tender infant would do to its mother; for provided that it is done lovingly, there is no danger in complaining, nor in asking to be healed, nor in changing place, nor in procuring comfort; only do all this with love and resignation in the arms of the most holy will of God. Do not trouble yourself about not making the acts of the different virtues well; for, as I have told you, they may be very good, although made with languor, heaviness, and a kind of compulsion. You can only give to God what you have, and in this season of affliction you have no other actions to offer Him.

Your Beloved is now to you “a bundle of myrrh” (Cant. i. 12); do not weary of clasping it to your breast: My Beloved to me, and I to Him (ibid. ii. 16): He shall ever be in my heart. Isaias calls Him a man of sorrows (liii. 3) . He loves sorrows, and those who have them. Do not trouble yourself to do much, but dispose yourself to suffer with love what you have to suffer. God will be propitious to you. Whether we languish, or whether we live, we live unto the Lord; or whether we die, we die unto the Lord (Rom. xiv. 8), and nothing shall be able to separate us from His holy love (ibid. viii. 39), His grace assisting us. Never shall our heart live but in Him and for Him. He shall be for ever the God of our heart. (Ps. Ixxii. 26.)

Chapter XVI. HOW THE SAINTS LOOKED UPON CROSSES

I go on this visit, where I see crosses of all kinds at every corner. My flesh murmurs at them, but my heart adores them. Yes, I salute you, little and great crosses, spiritual or bodily, exterior or interior; I salute you, and kiss your foot, unworthy of your shadow.

May God sustain the feebleness of my shoulders, and load them not save with a little, only to make me know how poor a soldier I should be, if I saw the armies before me.

Let us allow the enemy to growl and roar at the gate, and all around us; for God is in the midst of us, and in our heart, from whence He will not move, if it is pleasing to Him. Lord, stay with us, because it is towards evening, and the day is far spent. (Luke xxiv. 29.)

I will not say anything more to you, either on the great abandonment of all things and of ourselves for God, or on the departure from our country and the house of our parents. No, I will not speak of these things. May God vouchsafe to enlighten us, and to make us see His good pleasure; for at the risk of all that is in us, we will follow it in whatever place it conducts us to. Oh, how good it is to be with Him, in what place soever!

I think of the soul of the good thief. Our Lord had said to him that he should be that day with Him in Paradise; and his soul was no sooner separated from his body, than behold, He conducted it to hell. Yes; for it was to be with our Lord, and our Lord descended to hell. It therefore went thither with Him. True God, what must that soul have thought in descending, and beholding those abysses before its interior eyes! I think that it said with Job: Who will grant me this, that Thou mayest protect me in hell, and hide me till Thy wrath pass, and appoint me a time when Thou wilt remember me! (Job xiv. 13.) And with David, I will fear no evils, for Thou art with me. (Ps.xxii. 4.)

No, whilst our resolutions live, I will not trouble myself. Whether we die, whether every thing be overturned, it matters not, provided that this holds firm. The night is to us as the day, when God is in our heart; and the day as the night, when He is not there.

There is no occasion to mention in confession those little thoughts which, like flies, pass and repass before your eyes, nor the insipidities of taste you feel; for there is no sin in all this, only annoyance and inconvenience.

Chapter XVII. OF THE REPOSE WHICH OUR HEARTS OUGHT TO HAVE IN THE WILL OF GOD IN THE MIDST OF AFFLICTIONS

Since my return from the visit, I felt some symptoms of fever. Our physician would not order me any remedy except rest, and I obeyed him. You know also that the remedy I willingly order is tranquility, and that I always forbid excitement. This is why, in this bodily repose, I have thought of the spiritual repose which our hearts ought to feel in the will of God, whatever portion it assigns to us. Let us live as long as it pleases God in this vale of miseries, with an entire submission to His holy and sovereign will. I thought the other day of what writers say concerning the halcyons, little birds which float on the waves of the sea. It is that they make nests so round and compact, that the water of the sea cannot penetrate them; only at the top is a small hole, through which they can breathe. In these nests they lodge their young, so that if the sea surprises them, they may swim securely, and float on the waves without filling or sinking; and the air which comes through the hole serves as counterpoise, and so balances these little balls or boats that they never overturn. Oh, how I wish that our hearts were as compact, and as well stopped on all sides, so that if the troubles and tempests of the world seized them, they might notwithstanding never penetrate them; and that there were no opening but on the side of heaven, to breathe unto our Saviour! And for whom would this nest be made? For the little ones of Him who made it for the love of God, for divine and heavenly affections. But whilst the halcyons build their nests, and their young are still too tender to bear the dashing of the waves, alas, God has care for them, and is pitiful to them, hindering the sea from seizing and wafting them away. O God! and therefore this so vereign goodness will secure the nest of our hearts for His holy love against all the assaults of the world, where He will defend us from being assailed. Oh, how I love those birds which are surrounded with waters, live only on the air, and see only the sky! They swim like the fishes, and sing like birds; and what pleases me more is, that their anchor is thrown on high and not beneath, to steady them against the waves. May the sweet Jesus vouchsafe to make us such, that, surrounded with the world and the flesh, we may live in the spirit, that, among the vanities of the earth, we may always look to heaven; that, living among men, we may always praise Him with the angels; and that the security of our hopes may always be on high and in Paradise. Every where and in every thing may holy love be our great love. Alas, but when will it be that He shall consume us, and when shall our life be consumed, that He may make us die to ourselves and live again to our Saviour? To Him alone be for ever honour, glory, and benediction; since our inviolable purpose, and final and invariable resolution, tends incessantly to the love of God, words concerning the love of God are never out of place.

Chapter XVIII. OF FIRMNESS OF SPIRIT IN THE VARIOUS ACCIDENTS OF LIFE

The want of this firmness is what leads us to discouragement and disquietude, to caprice of spirit, and to variety of humours, to inconstancy, to instability in our resolutions; for we would meet in our path with no difficulty, no contradiction, no pain; we would always have consolations without disgusts, goods without evils, health without sickness, rest with out labour, and peace without trouble.

Who does not perceive our folly in this? for we would have what cannot be. It is only to be found in Paradise, where are all goods without admixture; but in this world every thing is mixed up. Thus God has willed that summer should be followed by autumn, and winter by spring; and for want of attending to this truth, we are moveable and changeable in our humours; and we do not follow reason, which would render us firm and immoveable.

God, in creating our first father, not only made him master of the brute creation, by the gift which He gave him of reason, but He moreover gave him a full power over all the accidents of this life, according as it is written, the wise man, that is to say, he who conducts himself by reason, will overrule the stars; which means, that by the use of his reason, he will remain firm and constant in the diversity of the accidents of this life.

Whether the day be fair or whether it rain, whether the air is calm or the wind blows, the wise man is by no means startled at it, knowing well, as he does, that nothing is stable in this life, and that the place of our rest is not here. In affliction he does not despair, but he waits for consolation; in sickness he does not harass himself, but he waits for health; or if he sees that he shall not be cured, he blesses God, hoping for the rest of life

everlasting. But if he falls into poverty, he does not afflict himself beyond measure, knowing well that it is the lot of this life; if he is despised, he has no excessive sadness on that account, knowing well that in this life honour is ordinarily followed by contempt. Lastly, in all sorts of events, whether prosperous or adverse, he remains firm, stable, and constant in the resolution of aiming at, and tending to, the enjoy ment of eternal goods.

Chapter XIX. THAT WE MUST HAVE THIS SAME FIRMNESS IN WHAT REGARDS THE SPIRITUAL LIFE

This firmness is so much the more necessary in the spiritual life, as this life is elevated above the bodily life. It is a very great mistake not to be willing to suffer, or to feel changes in our humours, so long as we do not govern ourselves by reason, and will not allow ourselves to be governed.

Most people in the world allow themselves to be governed and conducted by their passions, and not by their reason; and consequently they are generally very changeable. If they feel an inclination to go to bed early or late, they do so; if to go into the country, they rise early in the morning; but if to sleep, they follow their inclination in the same way. When they wish to dine or to breakfast late or early, they do so also; and not only are they inconstant in this, but they are inconstant in their daily life and conversation. They wish that other people should accommodate themselves to their humours, but will not do the like with regard to those of others: they allow themselves to be carried away by their inclinations and particular affections, without its being considered among them as a fault.

This ought not to be so among persons who wish to labour for their salvation. You say to-day that you feel consolation, that you are thoroughly determined to serve God; and to-morrow that you do not feel this consolation, you have no heart for the service of God. But tell me, if you governed yourself by reason, would you not see that if it was good to serve God yesterday, it is also very good to serve Him today? for He is always the same God, as worthy of being loved when you are not in consolation as when you are. To-day I like a person better, and am greatly pleased with his conversation, and to-morrow I can scarcely endure him. What means this? Is he not as capable of being loved to-day as he was yesterday? If we regarded the dictates of reason, we should see that we ought to love this person because he is a creature who bears the image of the divine Majesty: so shall we have as much pleasure in his conversation to-day as we had yesterday.

All this comes from allowing oneself to be conducted by one s inclinations and affections, thus inverting the order placed within us by God, who would have everything submitted to reason; for if reason does not rule over all our powers, nothing will be seen in us but a continual vicissitude and inconstancy, making us sometimes fervent, and then a while after cowardly and lazy; sometimes joyous, and then sad; we shall be tranquil for an hour, and then disquieted for a couple of days; and thus our life will slip away in unprofitableness and loss of time, whilst we allow ourselves to be subject to unevenness of humour amidst the unevenness of the circumstances which occur; instead of submitting ourselves to the guidance of that reason which God has placed in us, and which would render us firm, constant, and invariable in the resolution which we have made of serving God constantly, courageously, ardently, and without interruption.

Chapter XX. EXAMPLE OF THIS FIRMNESS AFFORDED BY THE BLESSED VIRGIN AND ST. JOSEPH

O man, says the great St. Chrysostom, why troublest thou thyself for that all things do not turn out as thou desirest? Art thou not ashamed to see that what thou wouldst have was not even found in the family of our Lord? Consider, I beseech thee, the vicissitude, the changefulness, and the diversity of the things that happened there.

The Blessed Virgin receives the tidings that she was to conceive of the Holy Ghost a Son who should be our Lord and Saviour: what joy for her in that holy hour of the Incarnation of the Eternal Word! A while after, St. Joseph perceives she was with child. O God! what sorrow for her, beholding her beloved spouse about to abandon her, whilst her humility would not allow her to disclose the honour and the grace which God had bestowed upon her!

A little after this storm had passed away, what consolation did they not receive, when the Son of God having come into the world, the angels proclaim His birth, the shepherds and the wise men come to adore Him! But, a little time after, the angel of the Lord comes to say in a dream to St. Joseph: Take the young Child and his Mother, and fly into Egypt; for Herod will seek the young Child to destroy Him. Oh, this was without doubt an occasion of very great sorrow to the Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph.

In these various events, what constancy and what firmness! They reply not a single word. Might not St. Joseph have said, You tell me that I must go; will it not be time enough to-morrow morning? Whither do you wish me to go to-night? How would you have me carry the Infant? I have neither provisions nor money for the journey: you know that the Egyptians are enemies of the Israelites.

Who will receive us? And similar things, which we might easily have urged to the angel, had we been in the place of St. Joseph, who did not say one word to excuse himself from obedience, but departed the same hour, and did every thing the angel had commanded him.

The Blessed Virgin conducted herself on this occasion in the same manner as St. Joseph. For she might have said to her spouse: Wherefore should I go into Egypt, since my Son has not revealed it to me? Even the angel did not speak to me of it. But the holy Virgin kept silence on all this, and is not in the least offended that the angel had addressed himself to St. Joseph; on the contrary, she obeys in all simplicity, because she knows that God has so ordained it, and takes no thought: “But I am more than an angel,” she might have said, “more than St. Joseph.” There was nothing of all this.

Consider, then, whether we have reason to trouble ourselves and to be astonished, if similar things happen to us, since the case was thus with the family of our Lord, where firmness and solidity made its very abode, which was our Lord Himself. It is a rule which we must say and re-say many times, the better to engrave it into our souls, that the inequality of accidents ought never to lead our minds and spirits to an inequality of humour: for inequality of humour arises from no other source than our passions, inclinations, or unmortified affections, which ought not to have any power over us, when they would lead us to do or to leave undone anything contrary to that which reason tells us we should do or leave undone in order to please God.

Chapter XXI. OF PATIENCE IN SICKNESSES AND INFIRMITIES

Certainly, I see plainly you will henceforth have to familiarise yourself with sicknesses and infirmities at this declining time of life you have reached. Lord Jesus, what true happiness for a soul dedicated to God, to be much exercised with tribulation before it departs from this life! How can one know free and ardent love, save among thorns, crosses, and languors, and above all, when the languors abide long? Thus our dear Saviour has shewn us His unmeasured love by the measure of His labours and sufferings.

Shew well your love to the Spouse of your heart on the bed of sorrow; for thereon, even before His Incarnation, He fashioned your heart, as yet seeing it only in His divine design. Alas, this Saviour has reckoned up all your sorrows, all your sufferings, and has paid at the price of His own blood for all the patience and all the love which is necessary for you, in order to apply your labours in a holy manner to His glory and your salvation.

Take comfort in the consideration that it is God who sends you these crosses; for nothing comes from that divine hand except for the profit of the souls that fear Him, either to purify them, or to confirm them in His holy love.

Happy are you, if you receive with a heart of filial love that which our Lord sends you with a heart of such fatherly care for your perfection.

Often look to the duration of eternity, and do not trouble yourself with the accidents of the life of this mortality.

If you have little of gold or incense to offer to our Lord, you at least have myrrh; and I perceive that He accepts it with great favour, as if this fruit of life wished to be preserved in the myrrh of bitter ness, as well in its birth as in its death.

Jesus glorified is fair; but although He is always very good, it seems nevertheless as if He were more so when crucified. In this way is He for this present time your Spouse; in the future it will be His glorified Self.

On what occasions could we make the great acts of the invariable union of our heart with the will of God, of the mortification of our own love, and of the love of our own abjection, if not on these?

It is God who wills thus to exercise our heart. It is not then a rigour, it is a sweetness. Let not our will be done; but let His all-holy will be done.

Let us be of good courage; for, provided that our heart be faithful to Him, He will not load us above our strength, but will support our burden with us, when He sees with what readiness we place our shoulders to it. (Is. xl. 11.)

I have at heart your advancement in solid piety; and this advancement has its difficulties, in order that you may be exercised in the school of the cross, in which alone our souls can perfect themselves. It is not with spiritual rose-trees as with material ones. In the latter, the thorns remain, and the roses pass away; in the former, the thorns will pass away, and the roses will abide.

Chapter XXII CONTINUATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT

I think that you are ill of a complaint more troublesome than dangerous, and I know that such sicknesses are apt to spoil the obedience due to physicians; which is the reason why I wish to tell you that you must spare neither rest, nor medicines, nor food, nor the recreations which are ordered you. You will in this practise a sort of obedience and resignation, which will render you extremely pleasing to our Lord. For behold, indeed, here is a number of crosses and mortifications, which you have not chosen nor willed. God has given them to you with His holy hand; receive them, kiss them, love them. My God! they are all perfumed with the dignity of the place from whence they come.

To God be the praise of the exercise which His providence gives you by this affliction of sickness, which will render you holy by means of His holy grace; for you know that you will never be the spouse of Jesus glorified, if you have not first been the spouse of Jesus crucified; and you will never enjoy the nuptial couch of His love triumphant, if you have not felt the love afflicting of the couch of His holy cross.

I assure you that I would willingly bear in my body, as I bear in my heart, all the pains you shall suffer in your illness; but not being able thus to get rid of them, embrace in a holy manner these little mortifications, receive these humiliations in the spirit of resignation, and, if possible, of indifference. Accommodate your imagination to reason, your natural feeling to understanding; and love this will of God in these cases, disagreeable in themselves, as if that will were exhibited in cases the most agreeable to you.

You do not receive the remedies by your own choice or from a liking for them: it is therefore by obedience and by reason. Can anything be so pleasing to the Saviour? But there is humiliation; and so many Saints have suffered the like as a cross. O cross! thou art lovely, since neither sense nor nature loves thee, but only the superior reason.

My heart salutes yours filially, and more than filially, beyond all comparison. Be like the dove, simple, sweet, and amiable, without reply and with out deceit. May God bless you, and ever may our hearts be in Him and for Him. Do not occupy your mind with business, but receive humbly and sweetly the little indulgences your infirmity requires. Live, Jesus and Mary!

Chapter XXIII. OF PATIENCE WHEN SUFFERING FROM HEADACHE

Let us lay aside meditation for a little, by reason of your headache, and let us practise well that holy resignation and that courageous love of our Saviour, which is never practised so completely as amidst torments.

For to love God in sugared sweetness, little children could easily do as much; but to love Him in wormwood, there is the trial of our loving fidelity.

To say “Live, Jesus!” on Thabor, St. Peter, rough as he was, had easily the courage; but to say “Live, Jesus!” on Calvary, that belongs only to the Mother and to the beloved disciple, who was left to her as her son.

But observe that I recommend you to God to obtain for you this holy patience; and it is not in my power to propose to Him anything for you, except that He altogether at His will fashion your heart, to dwell there and to reign there eternally; that He fashion it, I say, either with the hammer or the chisel or the brush: it is with Him to use them according to His pleasure.

I know that your sufferings have lately increased, and in the same measure my sympathy for you, although with you I praise and bless our Lord for His good pleasure which He exercises in you, making you participate in His holy cross, and crowning you with His crown of thorns.But, you tell me , you can scarcely keep your thoughts fixed on the woes which our Saviour suffered for you, whilst the pain is at its worst. Well then, it is not necessary that you should do so, but that with all simplicity you should raise your heart as often as you can to this Saviour, and make the following acts:—1 . Accept this pain from His hand, as if you saw Himself imposing it on you, and fixing it on your head: 2. Offer yourself to suffer yet more of it: 3. Entreat of Him, by the merit of His torments, to accept of these little inconveniences in union with His sufferings on the cross: 4. Protest that you not only love to suffer, but love and caress these evils, as sent by so good and kind a hand: 5 . Invoke the martyrs and those many servants of God, men and women, who enjoy heaven for having been afflicted in this world.

There is no danger in desiring a remedy; on the contrary, you ought diligently to seek for one: for God, who has given you the affliction, is also the author of remedies.

You must then apply them; but with such resignation, that if His Divine Majesty wills that the disease be subdued, you acquiesce in that: if He wills that the remedy fail, you bless Him for it.

My God! how happy you will be, if you continue to hold yourself under God’s hand, humbly, sweetly, and submissively.

Ah! I hope that this affliction of your head will do great good to your heart. It is now more than ever, and by an excellent token, that you are enabled to shew to our sweet Saviour that it is with all your affection that you have said, and continue to say, Live, Jesus!

Live, Jesus! and may He reign amidst our sorrows, since we cannot reign or live except by those of His death.

Chapter XXIV CONTINUATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT

If God has rendered you stronger and more valiant in supporting your adversities, to His goodness be the glory, which is ever ready to receive those souls who hope in Him.

Hope, then, always in Him; and in order to hope in Him, be always with Him.

Often sacrifice your heart to His love, even on the altar of the cross, on which He sacrificed His for the love of you. The cross is the royal gate by which to enter into the temple of holiness. He who seeks for it in another way will never find a fraction of it.

I will not say to you that you must not regard your afflictions at all; for your spirit, which is ready with replies, would say to me that they oblige you to regard them by the severity of the pain which they give you: but I will plainly tell you that you must not regard them except through the medium of the cross, and you will find them either little, or at least so pleasing that you will love to suffer them, rather than enjoy all consolation apart from them.

And calling to mind that outward cross which you carry on your heart, I say to you: Love well your cross; for it is all of gold, if you regard it with your eyes of love: and although on the one side you see the love of your heart dead and crucified amidst nails and thorns, you will find on the other an assemblage of precious stones to compose the crown of glory which awaits you, if you meanwhile lovingly carry that crown of thorns with your King, who has willed to suffer so much to enter into His felicity.

May our dear crucified Jesus rest, then, for ever on your heart. Yes, for the nails are more desirable than violets, and the thorns than roses. My God! how I desire that you should be holy, and all odoriferous with the perfumes of our dear Saviour!

The Our Father which you say for your headache is not forbidden; but, my God! no, I could not have the courage to pray of our Lord, by the thorns which wounded His brow, that in my head I should suffer no pain at all. Did He endure in order that we might not endure at all? St. Catharine of Sienna, seeing that her Saviour presented two crowns to her, one of gold, the other of thorns, said: Oh! I would have the crown of suffering for this world; the other shall be for heaven. I would wish to employ the crowning of our Lord to obtain a crown of patience for the pains of headache which I suffer.

Live wholly among the thorns of the Saviour’s crown, and say always, Live, Jesus! The thorns are wonderfully painful to flesh and blood; but the repugnance which you feel does not at all shew any deficiency in love. For I imagine, if we thought He would love us the more for it, we would submit even to be flayed alive, not indeed without repugnance, but in spite of repugnance.

You know that the fire which Moses saw on the mountain typified this holy love; and as its flames fed themselves amidst the thorns, so the exercise of divine love maintains itself much more happily amidst tribulations than amidst comfort. You have, then, an excellent opportunity of perceiving that our Lord desires that you should make progress in His love, since He gives you an uncertain state of health, and many other trials. My God! how sweet a thing it is to see our Lord crowned with thorns on the cross, and with glory in heaven: for this encourages us to receive contradictions lovingly, knowing well that by the crown of thorns we shall arrive at the crown of felicity. Keep yourself always close to our Lord, and you cannot have any evil which will not turn to some good.

Chapter XXV. OF PATIENCE UNDER PAINFUL OPERATIONS

Our Lord wishes to give you His Holy Spirit, to do and to suffer all things according to His holy will.

You tell me that incisions are to be made in your leg: this will no doubt give you extreme torture. But, my God! what an opportunity does not His goodness give you of trial in these commandments! Oh, take courage; we are in the service of Jesus Christ. He is sending us His livery. Think that the iron which makes the incisions in your leg is one of the nails which pierced the feet of our Lord.

Oh, what an honour! He chose these favours for Himself, and cherished them so much that He carried them into Paradise, and behold He gives you a share in them. But you tell me that you cannot serve God on this bed of torture; and I reply to you: When was it that our Lord rendered the greatest service to His Father? Doubtless, when He was stretched on the tree of the cross, having His hands and feet pierced. There was His greatest act of service.

And how did He serve Him? By suffering and sacrifice. These sufferings were an odour of sweetness to His Father. Behold, then, the service you shall render to God upon your bed: you shall suffer, and offer your sufferings to His majesty. He will doubtless be with you in this tribulation, and will console you.

Here has your cross come in sight; embrace it, and welcome it for the love of Him who sends it to you. David in his affliction said to God: I was dumb, and I opened not my mouth, because Thou hast done it (Ps. xxxviii. 10) ; as though he should say: If another than Thou, my God, had sent me this affliction, I would not love it, I should reject it; but since it is Thou, I say not a word more, I accept it, I receive it, I honour it.

But here is a precious balm to soothe your woes. Take each day a drop or two of that blood which trickles from the wounds of the feet of our Lord; meditate on them; and in your imagination dip reverently your finger in that blood, and apply it to your sore, with the invocation of the sweet name of Jesus, and you will see that your pain will dimmish.

The obedience which you shall render to the physician will be very pleasing to God, and will be reckoned at the day of judgment.

Whilst you lie in pain on your bed, I will regard you with particular reverence and extraordinary honour, as a person visited by God, habited in His robes, and as His special spouse.

When our Lord was on the cross, He was declared King, even by His enemies; and the souls which are on crosses are declared queens.

St. Paul, who had been in heaven and amidst the felicities of Paradise (2 Cor. xii. 4), regards himself as happy only in his infirmities and in the cross of our Lord. (Gal. vi. 14.)

When the incisions are made in your leg, say with the same Apostle: From henceforth let no man be troublesome to me; for I bear the marks of the Lord Jesus in my body. (Ibid. 17.)

O leg, which well employed, will carry you further towards heaven than if it were the soundest limb in the world! Paradise is a mountain, which is easier ascended by broken and wounded legs than by those sound and whole.

It is not good to have Mass said in your chamber; adore our Lord at the altar from your bed, and be content. Daniel not being able to go to the temple, turned himself towards it to adore God. Do you the same. (Dan. vi.

10.) But I decidedly recommend you to receive holy communion in your bed on all Sundays and greater festivals, as often as the physicians allow you. Our Lord will willingly visit you on the bed of affliction.

May God be eternally blessed and glorified through you, in you, and by you.

I beg of you to have the goodness to cause a good work to be recommended to God which I am anxious to see accomplished, and above all to recommend it yourself during your sufferings: for at such times your prayers, although short and ejaculatory, will be wonderfully well received. Ask of God at the same time to grant you the virtues which are most necessary for you.

Chapter XXVI. ON THE MAXIM—ASK FOR NOTHING, AND REFUSE NOTHING

I was speaking one day to an excellent religious, who asked me whether, supposing she wished to receive holy communion oftener than the community did, she might ask permission of the superioress to do so.

I replied to her, that if I were a religious, I think I should conduct myself as follows: I would never ask to communicate oftener than the community; nor would I ask to wear the hair-shirt or the cincture, or to use extraordinary fasts or disciplines, or anything else: I would be content with following the community in every thing. If I were strong, I would not eat four times a day; but if I were ordered to do so, I would obey, and say nothing. If I were in weak health, and were ordered notwithstanding to eat only once a day, I would eat only once a day, without thinking whether I was in weak health or not.

I wish for little; what I do wish for, I wish very little for. I have scarcely any desires for what regards this world; but if I were to be born again, I would not wish to have any of them at all. If God came to me by consolations, I would also go to Him; but if it were His will not to come to me by consolations, I would acquiesce, and would not go to Him to press Him to give me them; for He knows better than I what is necessary for me.

I say, then, that one ought to ask for nothing, and refuse nothing; but leave oneself in the hands of divine Providence, without amusing oneself with any desire, except to wish for that which God wishes of us.

You ask me if one ought not to desire virtues; and you tell me that our Lord has said: Ask, and it shall be given you. Oh, when I say that one ought to ask for nothing and desire nothing, I mean for things of the earth: for as regards the virtues, we ought certainly to ask for them; and when we ask for the love of God, we include them in it, for it contains them all.

But you add, cannot one desire human employments and offices of a lowly description, because they are more painful, and afford an opportunity of doing more, and humbling ourselves more, for the sake of God?

I reply that David said that he chose to be an abject in the house of his God, rather than to dwell in the tabernacle of sinners: this desire notwithstanding is very much to be suspected. How do you know, if, having desired humble offices, you will have strength to accept the humiliations you will meet with in them? You might have to encounter in them many disgusts and bitternesses; and if at present you feel that you have strength to suffer mortification and humiliation, how do you know whether you will have that strength always?

The surest way is to regard as a temptation the desire of offices of whatever kind, lowly or honourable, but to hold oneself in readiness to receive all those that obedience shall impose on us; and whether they are honourable or abject, I would receive them humbly without saying a single word about them, at least unless I were asked; for in that case I should simply tell the truth as it appeared to me.

Chapter XXVII. PRACTICE OF THIS MAXIM IN SUFFERINGS

Our Lord being on the cross, made us clearly see how we ought to mortify our natural feelings, which render us too tender over ourselves; for being in great thirst, He did not ask to drink, but only manifested His need by saying, “I thirst.” After which, He made an act of very great submission; for some one having presented to Him, at the end of a reed, a sponge dipped in vinegar, He sucked it with His blessed lips.

Strange: He was not ignorant that it was a draught which would augment His pain; nevertheless He took it in all simplicity, to teach us with what submission we ought to receive what is presented to us when we are sick, without allowing our repugnance, disgust, and weariness to be seen. Alas, if we are ever so little incommoded, far from imitating our Divine Master, we cease not to lament and bewail ourselves; our calamity, whatever it is, is without parallel, and wliat others suffer is nothing in comparison with it; we are more annoyed and impatient than we can express, and we find nothing that can assuage our trouble with sufficient promptitude. Lastly, it is a great pity to see how little we are imitators of the patience of our Saviour, who, forgetting His woes, never called attention to them, but was content that His heavenly Father, by whose order He suffered, considered them, and bestowed the fruit of them on man, for whom He suffered.

Engrave, therefore, deeply in your memory those two dear words which I have already recommended to you so much. Desire nothing, refuse nothing. In these two words I say every thing. Look at the infant Jesus in the manger; He receives poverty, nakedness, the company of brute creatures, the rudeness of the season, the cold, and all that His Father permits to happen to Him. It is not written that He ever stretched forth His hands for His Mother s breast. He abandoned Himself entirely to her care and to her providing. Nor did He refuse any of the little consolations which she gave Him; and He received the services of St. Joseph, the adoration and the presents of the shepherds and of the kings, all with a holy equality. We ought to do the like, and, following the example of our Divine Saviour, to ask for nothing and to refuse nothing, but to suffer and to receive equally all that the providence of God allows to happen to us. God give us grace to do this.

Chapter XXVIII. PRACTICE OF THIS MAXIM IN SICKNESS

I find in the Gospel a perfect model of this virtue in the person of the mother-in-law of St. Peter. She being attacked by a sharp fever, remained tranquil, peaceable, free from all disquiet herself, and causing none to those around her. She was content to suffer her affliction with patience and sweetness. O God! how happy she was, and how well she merited that they should take care of her, as the Apostles did, who provided for her healing without being solicited by her to do so, but by a movement of charity and of compassion!

That dear patient knew well that our Lord was at Capharnaum, and that He healed the sick; nevertheless she does not hasten to send Him word that she was suffering. But what is yet more admirable is, that she sees Him in her house, when He looks upon her, and she looks also on Him, and nevertheless she does not say to Him one single word of her sickness to excite Him to compassion, nor does she make it a duty to touch Him in order to be healed.

More than this, she does not appear to make account of her sickness; she does not make any pitiful tale of it, she does not complain, and does not ask others to complain for her sake, or even to procure that she may be healed. She is contented that God and her superiors should know it. She looks upon our Lord not only as the sovereign Physician, but also as her God, to whom she belongs as well in health as in sickness, being equally content in sick ness as in health.

Oh, how many persons would have used subtlety in order to be healed by our Lord, and would have said that they asked for health that they might serve Him better, fearing that He should be in want of anything! But this holy woman did in nowise think of all that, making her resignation seen, and asking nothing of our Lord but His most holy will.

I do not, however, mean to say that one may not ask it of our Lord, as of Him who can give it to us, with this condition, if such is His will. It does not suffice to be sick because God wills it, but one must be so as He wills, when He wills, as long as He wills, and in the manner that He wills; making no choice or rejection of any affliction, be it what it may, however abject or humiliating: for the affliction without abjection very often puffs up the heart instead of humiliating it; but when one has affliction and confusion at the same time, what an occasion for exercising patience, humility, and sweetness of spirit and of heart!

Let us then, following the example of this holy woman, take great pains to keep our heart in sweetness, turning our sicknesses to profit, as she did; for she arose immediately and waited on our Lord, making use of her health only for the service of our Lord. And in this she did not act like those persons of the world who, having been sick for some days, need weeks and months to nurse themselves after recovery.

Chapter XXIX OF GENEROSITY

If humility makes us believe that we can do nothing, from a consideration of what we know of our feebleness and poverty; generosity, on the contrary, makes us say with St. Paul: I can do all things in Him who strengtheneth me. Humility leads us to mistrust ourselves; and generosity leads us to trust ourselves with God. You see, therefore, that these two virtues are so linked together, that they never are or can be separated.

There are persons who give way to a false humility, which hinders them from regarding the good that God has really placed in them. They are greatly to blame; for the goods that God has placed in us ought to be recognised, valued, and highly honoured.

That humility which does not produce generosity is undoubtedly false; for after humility has said, I can do nothing, I am nothing, it immediately gives place to generosity, which says, There is nothing which I cannot do, inasmuch as I put all my confidence in God, who can do everything; and with this confidence, humility consequently undertakes every thing which it is ordered to do, how difficult soever: and if it applies itself to fulfil the commandment in simplicity of heart, God will rather work a miracle than fail of giving it His aid; because it is not from any confidence in its own strength that humility undertakes the work, but from the confidence which it has in God.

Humility, then, does not consist only in distrusting ourselves, but in trusting ourselves with God; and distrust of ourselves and of our own strength produces confidence in God, and from this confidence springs generosity.

The Blessed Virgin furnished us with a most remarkable example on this subject, when she uttered the words: Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it done unto me according to Thy word. In saying that she is the handmaid of the Lord, she makes the greatest possible act of humility, and thereby opposes herself to the praises given her by the angel. But observe that, directly she has discharged her duty to humility, she forthwith makes a most excellent act of generosity, by saying, Be it done unto me according to Thy word.

It is true, she would say, that I am in nowise capable of this grace, regard being had to what I am of myself; but so far as that which is good in me is of God, and what you say to me is His most holy will, I think that it can be done and that it will be done.

Behold the example which we ought to follow when we are ordered to do anything: we ought to undertake it generously, without reckoning on ourselves, but reckoning much on the grace of God, who wills that we should obey without making any resistance.

But I well understand the subtlety of false humility: it is, that we fear we shall not come forth with honour to ourselves. We value our reputation so highly, that in the exercise of our office we do not like to be reckoned as apprentices, but as masters, who never commit any blunders at all.

Besides what we have said of this generosity, we ought also to add, that the soul which possesses it receives alike drynesses as well as consolations; in terior weariness, sadness, heaviness of spirit, as well as the favours and prosperity of a spirit full of peace and tranquility; and this because it considers that He who gave it consolations is the same as He who sends it afflictions, and all by an effect of His love, in order thereby to attract it to a very great perfection, which is the abnegation of itself; remaining most assured, that He who deprives it here below of consolations, will by no means deprive it of them eternally in heaven above.

Chapter XXX. OF EVENNESS OF SPIR1T

What I have remarked in doves is, that they mourn even as they rejoice, and that they sing always the same note, as well in their songs of joy as in those in which they lament and express their complaints and their sorrow: whether they be joyous or sad, they never change their tune; their cooing note is ever the same.

It is this holy evenness of spirit which we ought to try to have: I do not say evenness of humour or of inclination, but of spirit; for we ought to make no account of the fretting of the inferior part of our soul, which is that which causes disquietude and caprice, the superior part not doing its duty by rendering itself supreme, and not keeping good watch to discern its enemies and take cognisance of the tumults and assaults raised against it by the inferior part, which spring from our senses and our inclinations and passions, to make war upon the reason, and to subject it to their laws. I say, moreover, that we ought always to keep ourselves firm and resolute in the superior part of our soul, to follow virtue, of which we make profession, and to keep ourselves in a continual evenness amidst events favourable or adverse, in desolation as in consolation.

Holy Job furnishes us with an example on this subject, for he never sang except in the same key; when God multiplied to him his property, gave him children, and sent to him at his will every thing which he could desire in this life, what said he except, Blessed be the name of the Lord? It was his canticle of love, which he sang on every occasion. For behold him reduced to the extremity of affliction: what does he do? He sings his song of lamentation in the same notes which he chanted in his season of joy. “If we have received good things,” said he, “at the hand of God, why should we not receive evil? The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away: blessed be the name of the Lord.” No other canticle, be the time what it may, but this: “Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

Oh, how like was that holy soul to the dove, which rejoices and laments always in the same note! Thus may we do; and on every occasion thus may we receive goods, evils, consolations, afflictions, from the hand of the Lord, ever singing that same sweetest canticle, “Blessed be the holy name of God,” and always on the air of continual evenness.

Never let us act like those who weep when consolation fails them, and only sing when it has returned: in which they resemble apes and baboons, which are sad and furious when the weather is gloomy and rainy, and never cease leaping and sporting when the weather is fair and serene.

Chapter XXXI OF MODESTY

Modesty is a virtue which regulates our exterior demeanour; and it has two vices opposed to it, namely, dissoluteness or levity in the gestures and look, and affectation or an affected demeanour. This virtue is extremely to be recommended; first, because it very much reduces us under subjection, and in this consists its value; for all that brings one under subjection for the sake of God is of great merit, and wonderfully pleasing to God. Secondly, because it brings us into subjection not only for a time, but always and in every place, as well when we are alone as in company, and even in sleeping.

A great Saint recommended one day this modesty to one of his disciples, in writing to him that, lie should prepare himself for rest modestly in the presence of God, in the same manner that one might be imagined to do, if our Lord being yet on earth, had commanded him to sleep in His presence. And although, says he, you see Him not, nor hear His command, He nevertheless is as if you saw Him; because, in truth, He is there present when you lie down to rest, and He guards you whilst you sleep.

O my God, how modestly should we lie down to rest if we saw Thee! Doubtless we should fold our hands across our breast with great devotion, not only because of the presence of the divine Majesty, but because of the angels too who are present, and whose eyes also demand of us great modesty.

This virtue is also much to be recommended for the edification of our neighbour, it having brought many to conversion. This happened to St. Francis, who passing through a city, shewed such modesty in his demeanour, that, without his speaking a single word, a great number of young persons followed him, attracted solely by his example of modesty, which was a silent but most efficacious preaching.

Modesty ought to be observed in various ways, according to the quality of the persons. For example, a nun ought to have a modesty different from that of women, whether married or single, who are in the world; for what is modesty in one person would be immodesty in another. A gracious manner is extremely well suited to an aged person, which would be affected in one younger, to whom is befitting a modesty of a more subdued and humble description. Sometimes even what is in character with a person in one position is not so with the same person in another position: of which rule the following is a remarkable example.

The great Arsenius, chosen by Pope Damasus to instruct and bring up Arcadius the son of the Emperor Theodosius, after having been honoured for several years at the court, and much favoured by the emperor as a man of the world, became disgusted with all the vanities of the court, although he lived in it in a manner no less Christian-like than honourable, and resolved to retire to the desert, to live there with the solitaries and as a solitary. One day, when all the fathers were assembled for a spiritual conference, one of them informed the superior that Arsenius was wont to sit in a careless attitude, crossing one leg over another.

“It is true,” said the superior; “I have also noticed it; but he is a man who lived for a long time in the world, and who contracted that demeanour in the court. What can we do?” He made excuses for him: for he was sorry to trouble him by reproving him for what was in fact no sin at all; nevertheless he wished that this should be corrected, for Arsenius had only this fault.

One of the solitaries, a friend of Arsenius, who was named Pastor, then said: “O my father, do not trouble yourself; there will be no great difficulty in letting him know of it, without paining him; and for this reason, at the conference to-morrow, I will, if you please, put myself in the same attitude, and you will rebuke me for it before all the fathers, and he will understand that he ought not to use that posture.”

The superior having rebuked Pastor, the good Arsenius immediately threw himself on the ground at his feet, humbly asking pardon, and saying that perhaps it had not been observed, but that he had been in the habit of committing the same fault, that it was the ordinary attitude at court, and that he asked to have a penance for it. None was given him; but no one afterwards saw him in that attitude, which was not an immodesty in him when he was at the court, although it was so when he was amongst the solitaries.

There are, therefore, things which are immodest in some persons, but not so in others; as there are things which are immodest at some times and in some places, but which are not so at other times and in other places.

Chapter XXXII. OF TEMPTATIONS AGAINST PURITY

As regards the temptations of this good soul, alas, let her humiliate herself greatly, but not be at all surprised: the lilies which grow among thorns are the whiter for them, and the roses near garlic are the more sweet and odoriferous. What doth he know that hath not been tried? (Ecclus. xxxiv. 9.) If the temptations referred to are those of the feelings, as it would appear, let her make some change in bodily exercise when distressed by them; or if this cannot conveniently be done, let her try a change in place and posture: such changes will turn aside the thoughts to something else.

If the temptation is in the imagination, let her sing, keep with the others, change spiritual exercise,—that is to say, pass from one kind to another; and changes of place will be an additional help: above all, let her not be startled at these temptations, but let her frequently renew her vows and humble herself before God. Let her promise her heart the victory, by the intercession of the Blessed Virgin. If anything keeps her in a state of scruple, let her tell it boldly and courageously, without making any reflection, when she goes to confession. But I hope in God that with a noble spirit she will keep herself exempt from all that can give her scruple. I should be glad that she should wear the hair-shirt once a week, unless she knows that that would render her too inattentive to other more important exercises, as sometimes happens.

Chapter XXXIII. OF THE MANNER OF MAKING THE VOW OF CHASTITY

I think that the desire which you have of making the vow of chastity to God has not been thoroughly weighed in your mind, and that you have not for any length of time considered its importance; which is the reason why I wish you should do so. Now, to make it well, take for three days previous leisure to prepare your vow well by meditation, which you can draw from these considerations.

Consider how chastity is a virtue pleasing to God and to the angels, He having willed that it should be eternally observed in heaven. Will you not be happy in commencing in this world the life which you shall continue eternally in the next? Bless God therefore, who has given you this holy inspiration. Consider how noble is this virtue, which keeps our souls white as lilies, pure as the sun; which renders our bodies consecrated, and gives us the means of being all entirely devoted to His divine Majesty,—heart, body, spirit, and feeling. Is it not a great consolation to be able to say to our Lord, My heart and my flesh have rejoiced in the living God (Ps. Ixxxiii. 3), for the love of whom I quit all love, and to please whom I renounce all other pleasures?

Consider that the Holy Virgin was the first to vow her virginity to God, and after her so many virgins. But with what ardour, what love, what affection were not these virginities vowed! O God! the tongue cannot utter it.

Humiliate yourself greatly before the heavenly troop of virgins; and by a humble prayer, supplicate them to receive you among them, not to pretend to equal them in purity, but at least that you may be devoted to be their servant, imitating them as closely as you can.

Beseech them to offer with you your vow to Jesus Christ, the King of virgins, and to render your chastity pleasing to Him by the merit of theirs.

Above all, recommend your intention to our Lady, and then to your good angel, that he may be pleased henceforth to preserve with an especial care your heart and your body from all defilement.

Then, on the day that you shall have chosen, when the priest elevates the holy Host, offer with him to the eternal Father the precious Body of His dear Son, and with it your body, which you will make a vow to preserve in chastity all the days of your life, using these words, or similar ones:

“O eternal God, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, I, N., Thy unworthy creature, being in Thy divine presence, and in that of all Thy celestial court, promise to Thy divine majesty, and make a vow to maintain and keep all the time of my life an entire chastity and continence, by the help of Thy holy grace. May it please Thee, divine Majesty, to accept this irrevocable vow, which I this day make, as an holocaust of sweetness; and since it hath pleased Thee to inspire me to make it, give me the strength to accomplish it to Thy glory, for ever and ever.”

Hereupon you will receive holy communion, and you may say to our Lord that indeed He is your spouse.

But this vow once made, you must not allow anyone to propose to you anything contrary to it; but you must have a great respect for your body, as no longer your body, but as a consecrated body and a most holy relic: and as one does not dare to touch or profane a chalice after the bishop has consecrated it, so the Holy Spirit having consecrated your heart and your body by this vow, you must regard it with a great reverence.

Chapter XXXIV. THAT WE OUGHT NOT TO DESIRE TEMPTATIONS, AND THAT WE OUGHT TO BE ON OUR GUARD AGAINST THOSE OF SELF-WILL

I wish that in your fervours you would not form those desires of temptations, or of occasions of mortifications; for since, by the grace of God, they do not fail you, there is no occasion to employ your mind in desiring them. Employ it rather in preparing it self and placing itself in the position to receive them, not when you will, but when God wills to permit them.

I know of no temptations more manifest or easier to recognise than such as these: to break the vows in order to fast; to presume that one is well adapted for the solitary life, and not well adapted for the conventual; to wish to live to oneself in order the better to live to God; to wish to have the entire enjoyment of one s own will in order the better to do the will of God.

What chimeras!

That an inclination, or rather a fantasy and an imagination, impatient, capricious, vexed, hard, sharp, bitter, heady, can be an inspiration—what a contradiction!

To cease to praise God, and to be silent, in disgust at the offices which Holy Church ordains, because one cannot praise Him in a corner according to one’s intention—what extravagance!

But I hope that God will turn all this to His glory, since that poor daughter submits to whatever she is commanded. Command her frequently, and impose upon her mortifications opposed to her inclinations—she will obey; and although it may seem to be by constraint, it will nevertheless be profitable, and according to the grace of God.

Chapter XXXV. OF THE VIRTUE OF DIVESTMENT

We ought not merely to wish for this divestment in general, but in particular; for nothing is so easy as to say, in the lump as it were, We must deny ourselves and resign our own will; but to come to the practice of this is where lies the difficulty.

It is therefore necessary to make considerations in detail, both on oneself, and on one s state of life, and all the things dependent on it; and then, in particular, renounce sometimes one of our self-wills, and then another, until we are entirely divested of them.

Now, this divestment is made by three degrees. The first is an affection for this divestment, which arises in us from the consideration of its beauty. The second is the resolution which follows the affection; for we easily determine ourselves to a good which we regard with affection. The third is the practice, which is the most difficult.

The goods of which we ought to divest ourselves are of three kinds: external goods, the goods of the body, and the goods of the soul. External goods are all those things which are outside of us, such as property, possessions, friends, and the like. To divest ourselves of them, we ought to give them up into the hands of the Lord, and then ask of Him the affections which He wishes us to have for them; for one ought not to remain without affections, or to have them all equal; for one ought to love each in his degree, and it is charity which marks that degree, and which assigns to each affection its rank. The second class of goods are those of the body,—beauty, health, and advantages of that kind; and after having thus renounced them, one ought not to go to the mirror to see whether one is beautiful, and one ought to be as contented with sickness as with health, at least so far as regards the superior part of the soul, for nature always feels, and sometimes cries out, especially when one is not very perfect. We ought, then, to take

remedies and nourishments as they come to hand—I mean always according to reason; for as to inclinations, I do not amuse myself with them. The goods of the heart are the consolations and the sweetnesses which are found in the spiritual life. These goods are very good, you will say; and wherefore divest oneself of them? We must do so nevertheless, and we must surrender them into the hands of the Lord, to dispose of them as He pleases; and we must serve Him without them as with them. I do not mean here to speak of grace or of the virtues, for of those we ought never to divest ourselves; we ought, on the contrary, to desire them, and to ask the Lord for them unceasingly.

There are still other goods which are neither interior nor exterior, neither goods of the body nor goods of the heart: such are those which depend on the opinion of others, and which are called honour, esteem, reputation. Now we ought to divest ourselves altogether of these, and to desire no other honour but that of seeking in every thing the glory of God, and to desire no other esteem or reputation but that of wishing to give good edification in all things. All these divestments ought to be made, not from a feeling of scorn, but from self-denial, for the sole and only love of God.

Chapter XXXVI. ANSWER TO CERTAIN DIFFICULTIES REGARDING THE VIRTUE OF DIVESTMENT

We must here remark, that the satisfaction which we feel at meeting persons whom we love, and the testimonies of affection which we give them, are by no means contrary to this virtue of divestment, provided they are not disorderly, and that, when absent, pur heart does not run after them. For how could it be, that the objects being present, the faculties should not be moved? It is as if one should say to a person, on meeting a lion or a bear, Do not be at all afraid. The thing is not in our power. In the same way, on meeting a person whom we love, it cannot be that we should not be moved with joy and satisfaction; and therefore this is not at all contrary to the virtue.

I say more: if I have a desire to see some one for a profitable purpose, and which ought to turn out to the glory of God; if his intention of coming to see me is crossed by some obstacle, and if I feel some little annoyance on that account, and even take some trouble to remove the obstacle which prevents his coming, I do nothing contrary to the virtue of divestment, provided always that I do not lose tranquility.

Thus you see that the virtue is not such a terrible affair as is imagined. It is a fault that many people have, to form to themselves chimeras in their mind, and to think that the road to heaven is strangely difficult; in which they deceive themselves, and are much in the wrong. This was what made David say, in speaking to God, that the law of the Lord, which the wicked proclaimed to be hard and difficult, was sweeter than honey and the honeycomb. (Ps. xviii. 11.)

It is true that one can never arrive at perfection whilst one retains an affection to any imperfection, however small it be, were it only a useless thought; and it is not to be credited what mischief this causes to a soul. We must, then, cut the evil short the moment we perceive it, however small it be.

We must also examine in good faith whether it is true, as seems to us sometimes, that we have not our affection engaged. For example, if when any one praises you, you happen to say a word that augments the praise given you, or still more, when you look out for it by studied words, then search the bottom of your conscience, for on these occasions you will find in it affection to vanity.

You may also know whether you are attached to anything, when you cannot conveniently do what you had intended to do; for if you have not affection for it, you will remain as much in repose at not being able to do it as if you had done it; and, on the contrary, if you trouble yourself about it, it is a mark that you have placed your affection on it.

Now, our affections are so precious (since they ought all to be employed in loving God), that we ought to take good heed not to place them except exactly right; for a single fault, however trifling, done with an affection for it, is more contrary to perfection than any other done by mistake and with out affection.

Chapter XXXVII. HOW ONE OUGHT TO HATE ONE’S DEFECTS, AND LOOK ON DEATH

It is very true, there cannot be this drowsiness and numbness of the feelings without some sort of sensible distress; but whilst your will and the depth of your soul is fully resolved to be all for God, there is nothing to fear; for these are natural imperfections, and rather ailments than sins or spiritual defects. You ought nevertheless to excite and rouse yourself to courage and animation as much as possible.

Oh, say you, this death is hideous. It is very true; but the life which is beyond, and which the mercy of God will give to us, is also mightily desirable: and so we must in nowise lose confidence. For although we are miserable, we are not by any means so miserable as God is merciful to those who have the will to love Him, and who have placed their hope in Him.

When the blessed Cardinal Borromeo was on the point of death, he caused his attendants to bring him the image of our dead Lord, to soften his own death by that of his Saviour. It is the best of all remedies against the dread of your departure, to meditate on that of Him who is our life, and never to think of the one without adding the thought of the other.

Do not examine whether what you do is little or much, good or evil, provided that it be not sin, and that in good faith you have the will to do it for God. As much as you can, do perfectly that which you do; but when it is done, do not think any more about it; think of what is to be done next. Walk very simply with the Cross of our Lord, and do not torment your mind. We ought to hate our defects; but with a tranquil and peaceful hatred, not with a troubled and distempered hatred: and farther, we ought to have patience when we see them, and derive from them the profit of a holy abasement of ourselves. For want of this, your imperfections which you discern with subtlety, trouble you with yet greater subtlety, and by this means maintain themselves, there being nothing which more preserves our faults than a disquietude and troubled eagerness to get rid of them.

It is a severe temptation to become saddened with the world, when we must necessarily be in it. The providence of God is wiser than we are. We fancy that by changing our ship we shall fare better: yes, if we changed ourselves. My God, I am the sworn enemy of these useless, dangerous, and bad desires; for although what we desire is good, the desire is nevertheless bad; since God does not will for us this sort of good, but another, in which He wills that we should exercise ourselves. God wills to speak to us amidst the thorns and the bush (Exod. iii. 2), and we will Him to speak to us in the whistling of a gentle air. (3 Kings xix. 12.) His goodness defend you! but be constant and courageous, and rejoice in that He gives you the will to be all His.

Chapter XXXVIII CONTINUATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT

We ought to join these two things together: an extreme attention to practising our exercises, both meditation and the virtues, with great exactness; and in nowise to doubt or disquiet ourselves, or be astonished, if we happen to fail in them sometimes: for the first point depends on our fidelity, which ought always to be entire, and to increase from hour to hour; the second arises from our weakness, which we can never lay aside during this mortal life.

When we happen to commit any defect, let us immediately examine our heart, and let us ask it whether it has not always the lively and entire resolution of serving God: and I hope that it will reply to us, Yes; and that it would rather suffer a thousand deaths than part with that resolution. Let us, then, ask it: Wherefore, then, didst thou now just stumble? Wherefore art thou so cowardly? It will reply to you, I was surprised, I know not now; but I am so heavy just now. Alas, we must pardon it; for it is not by unfaithfulness that it failed but by infirmity.

We must, therefore, correct it sweetly and tranquilly, and not irritate it and trouble it yet more. What! (we should say to it) my heart, my friend, in the name of God take courage; let us go forward, let us take care of ourselves, let us raise ourselves to our succour and to God. Alas, we must be charitable towards our soul, and not devour it, when we see that it does not err with its full consent.

You perceive that in this exercise we practise holy humility: that which we do for our salvation is done tor the service of God; for our Lord did nothing in this world except for our salvation. By no means desire war, but wait for it in a steady attitude. Our Lord be your strength.

It is not possible that you can be so speedily mistress of your soul, and keep it so absolutely under your hand at the first time. Be content with gaming from time to time some little advantage over your ruling passion. One must bear with the others; but in the first place one must bear with one’s self, and have patience with one’s being imperfect.

Above all, do not lose courage; have patience wait, exercise yourself strongly in the spirit of compassion, I do not doubt but that God will hold you with His hand; and if He allows you to stumble, that will only be to make you know that if He did not hold you, you would fall altogether, and to make you hold the faster by His hand.

CHAPTER XXXIX OF THE FEAR OF DEATH

Although there is no sin in this fear and in this dread of death, nevertheless it is injurious to the heart, which being troubled by this passion, cannot so well unite itself to its God by love. I assure you, therefore, that if you persevere in the exercises of devotion, as I see that you do, you will find yourself gradually consoled; because your soul, finding itself thus freed from its evil affections, and uniting itself more and more to God, will become less attached to this mortal life, and to the vain gratifications which it might have in it.

Exercise yourself often with thoughts of the great sweetness and mercy with which our Saviour receives souls on their departure, when they have placed their confidence in Him during their life, and have endeavoured to serve and love Him, each in its vocation. How good is God to Israel, to them that are of a light heart! (Ps. Ixxii. 1.)

Often raise your heart, by a holy confidence mingled with a profound humility, towards our Redeemer, saying to Him: I am miserable, Lord, and Thou wilt receive my misery in the bosom of Thy mercy, and Thou wilt draw me by Thy fatherly hand, to make me enter into the enjoyment of Thy inheritance; I am poor and abject, but Thou wilt love me in that day because I have hoped in Thee, and have desired to be Thine.

Excite in yourself, as much as you are able, the love of Paradise and of the heavenly life, and make many meditations on this subject; for in proportion as you shall value and love eternal happiness, you will have less apprehension about quitting this mortal and perishable life.

Often make acts of love towards our Lady and the holy Angels. Familiarise yourself with them frequently, addressing them with words of praise; for if you have frequent access to these citizens of the heavenly Jerusalem, it will trouble you the less to quit the earthly Jerusalem.

Often adore, praise, and bless the most holy death of our crucified Lord, and place all your confidence in His merits, by which your death will be rendered happy. Often say: divine death of my sweet Jesus, thou wilt bless mine, and it shall be blessed; I bless Thee, and Thou shalt bless me, my Jesus, more dear to me than life. Thus St. Charles, in the sickness of which he died, caused the attendants to place in his sight a picture of our Lord in the sepulchre, and another of our Lord praying on the Mount of Olives, to console himself at that moment by the death and passion of his Redeemer.

Sometimes reflect on what you are, a child of the Catholic Church, and rejoice thereupon, for the children of that Mother, who desire to live according to her laws, remain always happy; and, as St. Teresa says, it is a great consolation at the hour of death to be a child of our holy Mother the Church.

End all your prayers by an act of confidence, saying: Thou, Lord, art my hope; I have made the Most High my refuge. (Ps. xc. 9.) O my God, who hath hoped in Thee and been confounded? (Ecclus. ii. 11.) In Thee, Lord, I have hoped; let me never be put to confusion. (Ps. Ixx. 1.)

In your ejaculatory prayers during the day, and in receiving the most holy Sacrament, always use words of love and of hope towards our Lord, such as these: Thou art my Father, Lord, God; Thou art the spouse of my soul, Thou art the king of ray love, and the well-beloved of my heart. O sweet Jesus, Thou art my dear Master, my succour, and my refuge in the day of tribulation.

Often think of the persons whom you love most, and from whom it would distress you most to be separated, as of persons with whom you will live eternally in heaven: for example, your husband and your children, who will one day, by the help of God, be blessed in that eternal life in which they will enjoy your happiness and rejoice at it; and you too will enjoy theirs and will rejoice at it, without ever being separated again: which end you will find it the easier to attain, inasmuch as all those who are most dear to you serve God and fear Him.

Chapter XL. OF PREPARATION FOR DEATH

It is impossible for us, living in the world, although we only touch it with our feet, to avoid being soiled with its dust. The old patriarchs, Abraham and the others, usually offered their guests water to wash their feet; I think that the first thing which we ought to do is to wash the affections of our soul, to receive the hospitality of our good God in His Paradise.

It appears to me, that it is always a great reproach to mortals to die without having thought about it beforehand; but it is doubly such to those whom our Lord has favoured with the advantage of old age. Those who arm themselves before the trumpet sounds, are always in better order than those who run to take up their arms at the moment of surprise.

We ought quite at our ease to bid farewell to the world, and little by little draw off our affections from creatures. The trees which the wind throws down are not fit to be transplanted, because they leave their roots in the earth; but whoever wishes to remove them to another spot, must adroitly disengage the roots, little by little, one after the other. And since from this miserable earth we are to be transplanted into the land of the living, we ought to draw off and disengage from the world our affections one after the other. I do not say that we ought rudely to break all the ties we may have formed in it (efforts should be made for this when there is a proper occasion), but we ought to unweave and unravel them.

They who set forth on a journey without warning are excusable for not having taken leave of friends, and for starting with a bad equipage; but not so those who know tolerably well the time of their departure; they ought to hold themselves ready, not to set out before the time, but to wait for it with more tranquility.

For this purpose, I think that you will find unspeakable consolation in choosing an hour in each day to think before God and your good Angel on

what is required for you to make a happy retreat. In what order are your affairs, if it were necessary that this should take place soon?

St. Bernard says, that the soul which wishes to go to God ought first to kiss the foot of the crucifix, purge its affections, and make a good resolution to separate itself little by little from the world and its vanities; then to kiss the hands of our crucified Lord, by the change in its actions which follows on the change of affections; and lastly, to kiss His mouth, uniting itself by an ardent love to that supreme goodness.

We owe ourselves to God, to our country, to our relations, to our friends. To God in the first place, then to our country; but first to our heavenly, and in the second place to our earthly country: after that to our relations; but no one is so nearly related to you as yourself: lastly to our friends; but are you not yourself the first of your friends? Enough of this for the present year, which is flying away and gliding from before us, and which in the next two months will make us see the vanity of its duration, as all the preceding years have done, which are no more.

Chapter XLI. THAT WE OUGHT NOT TO DESIRE TO KNOW THE STATE OF THE DEAD

I will tell you that by your letter I know very distinctly the qualities of your heart, and amongst them all, its ardour in loving and cherishing what it loves. This is what makes you speak so much to our Lord of this dear departed one, and which leads you to desire to know where he is. Now you ought to repress these too violent desires, which proceed from the excess of this passion; and when you notice your mind running on these thoughts, you ought all at once, and even with uttered words, to return to the side of our Lord, and say to Him this, or something like this: Lord, how sweet is Thy providence, and how good is Thy mercy! How happy is this child to have fallen into Thy fatherly arms, in which he cannot but be well, wherever he may be!

Yes, for you ought carefully to avoid thinking of him as in any place but paradise or purgatory, since, thanks be to God! there is no reason to think other wise. Recall, therefore, your mind in this way, and then employ it in acts of love towards our crucified Lord.

When you recommend this child to the divine Majesty, say to Him simply: Lord, I recommend to Thee the child of my womb, but much more the child of the womb of Thy mercy, born indeed of my blood, but regenerate in Thine.

After this, turn to something else; for if you allow your mind to amuse itself with this object suited and pleasing to your feelings, and to that deep-seated and natural affection, it will never be likely to quit you; and on pretence of pious prayers, it will extend itself to merely natural enjoyments and satisfaction, such as will deprive you of the leisure to employ your self about the supernatural and sovereign object of your love.

It is, no doubt, necessary to moderate ourselves in these ardours of natural affection, which only seem to trouble our mind and to distract our heart. Let us, then, settle our spirit well in our heart, and let us command it to do the duty imposed on it, which is to love God very singly; and let us not allow it any frivolous amusement, either about what passes in this world, or about what passes in the other. But having assigned to creatures all we owe to them of love and of charity, let us refer all to that first love which we owe to the Creator, and let us conform our selves to His divine will.

Chapter XLII. THAT WE OUGHT TO BE CONTENT WITH OUR STATE OF LIFE

I say to you, and say it decidedly, that you should adhere faithfully to the will of God and His providence on the subject of your old temptation; acquiescing with all humility and sincerity in the good pleasure of Heaven, by which you find yourself in the state of life in which you are. We ought to remain on board the ship in which we are, in order to cross from this life to the other; and we ought to remain there willingly and with affection, because, although sometimes we have not been placed there by the hand of God, but by the hand of man. still, once being there, God wills us to be there, and consequently we ought to be there sweetly and willingly.

Oh, how many ecclesiastics have embarked in that state of life on wrong considerations, and by the compulsion which their parents exercised to make them enter into that vocation, who make a virtue of necessity, and remain from love where they entered by compulsion! Otherwise, what would become of them? Where there is less of your own choice, there is more of submission to the will of Heaven. Acquiescing, then, in the Divine will, often say with your whole heart: Yes, eternal Father, I will to be thus, because thus it is Thy pleasure I should be. And thereupon I entreat of you to be very faithful to the practice of this acquiescence and dependence on the state of life in which you are placed.

And for this purpose, you ought sometimes to take an opportunity of naming the persons you know of, to whose very name you feel an aversion; and when you speak to the principal of those persons, you ought sometimes to use words of respect among your remonstrances. This point is of such import ance for the perfection of your soul, that I would willingly write it with my blood.

In what would we shew our love towards Him who suffered so much for us, if not amidst aversions, repugnances, and contradictions? We ought to plunge our head among the thorns of these difficulties, and allow our heart to be transfixed by the spear of contradiction, drink the vinegar and gall, yea eat wormwood and aloes, since it is God who wills it.

Lastly, since you formerly fed this temptation, and favoured it with all your heart, you ought now with all your heart to feed and fortify this acquiescence. But if you meet with any difficulty on this subject through the fault of that person, make no move without having first looked to eternity, placed yourself in a position of indifference, and taken the advice of some worthy servant of God; for the enemy seeing you victorious over this temptation by your acquiescence in the good pleasure of God, will set at work, I imagine, every kind of invention to trouble you.

Chapter XLIII. OF THOSE WHO ENTER INTO RELIGION AS IF BY COMPULSION

As for the vocation of this young person, I hold it to be a good one, although it is mixed with various imperfections on the part of her mind, and although it were desirable that she had come to God simply and purely for the blessing of being wholly devoted to His service. But God does not draw by equal motives all whom He calls to Himself; on the contrary, but few are to be found who come to His service entirely for the sake of being His and serving Him.

Among the daughters whose conversion is famous in the Gospel, it was only Magdalene who came through love and with love. The adulteress came through public humiliation, as the Samaritan woman through a particular humiliation. The woman of Canaan came in order to be consoled in her temporal affliction. St. Paul, the first hermit, at the age of fifteen years retired into his cave to avoid persecution. St. Ignatius and many others came by means of tribulation.

We ought not to expect all to begin by perfection. It is of little consequence how one begins, provided that one is very firmly resolved to go on well and to end well.

Those who were compelled to enter in at the marriage-feast in the Gospel did not eat and drink the less on that account. We ought principally to regard the dispositions of those who come to religion for continuance and perseverance; for there are souls who would never enter in if the world smiled upon them, and whom we nevertheless see well inclined to despise the vanity of the world.

If this daughter has a good heart, I feel assured that she will soon find herself altogether transformed, and that she will marvel at the sweetness wherewith our Lord attracts her unto His couch, amidst so many

flowers and fruits of all heavenly odour. As to what the world will say of this vocation, no attention should be paid to that; for neither is it for the world that she is accepted.

Chapter XLIV. OF AUSTERITIES PRACTICED THROUGH SELF-LOVE AGAINST OBEDIENCE

She is quite right, certainly, this good daughter, in thinking that her humour for fasting is a real temptation. That, indeed, it has been, it is, and it will be, so long as she continues to use these abstinences, by which it is true that she weakens her body and her evil inclinations, but, by a poor exchange, fortifies her self-love with her own will; she reduces her body, but she overcharges her heart with the poisonous excess of her own esteem and her own desires.

Abstinence done contrary to obedience removes sin from the bodv to infuse it into the heart. Let her direct her attention to diminishing her own selfwill, and she will soon abandon these fantastic shadows of sanctity in which she rests so superstitiously.

She has consecrated her bodily strength to God; it is no longer hers to destroy it, unless when it is God’s will she shall do so: she will never learn the will of God except by obedience to the creatures whom God has given to her to be her guides.

She must be aided against this temptation by the advice of some true servants of God; for more than one person is required to root out these persuasions of exterior sanctity, so dearly purchased by the prudence of self-love.

As for all your other exercises, you will continue them in the way in which I marked them out. As for your time of going to rest, I will not, if you please, alter my opinion; but if your bed displeases you, and if you cannot remain in it so long a time as the others, I will readily permit you to rise an hour earlier in the morning, for it is not to be imagined how dangerous are long watchings at night, and how they weaken the brain.

People do not feel it in youth, but they feel it all the more afterwards; and many have made themselves useless in this way.

Chapter XLV. OF FIDELITY TO THE RULES

We know not how to love the rules, if we love not Him who made them. In proportion as we love and value him who makes the law, we render ourselves exact in observing it. Some are attached to the law by chains of iron, and these are they who observe it from the fear they have of being damned; and others are attached to it by chains of gold, and these are they who observe it from love. David tells us that God has commanded that His commandments be kept most diligently. (Ps. cxviii. 4.) You see that He wishes us to be punctual; and this is what all are who observe the commandments from love. They do not merely avoid any turning aside from the law, they avoid even the shadow of it. For this reason the spouse is compared to “the doves upon brooks of waters,” which sit beside the softly-flowing rivers, the waters whereof are crystalline.

You know well that the dove sits in security beside those waters, because she can see in them the shadow of the birds of prey which she fears; and the moment she sees them she flies away, and cannot be taken off her guard: such, our Lord would say, is my beloved; for so long as she flies from the shadow of turning aside from my commandments, she has no fear of falling into the hands of disobedience. Certainly, whoever deprives himself voluntarily by the vow of obedience of doing his own way in things indifferent, sufficiently shews that he loves to be subject in things which are necessary and of obligation.

We ought, then, to be extremely punctual in the observance of the laws and rules which are given us by our Lord, but above all, in that point of following the community in all things. If you are strong, I conjure you to weaken yourself in order to be conformable to the weak; and if you are feeble, I tell you, strengthen yourself to adjust yourself to the strong.

The Apostle St. Paul says, that he became all things to all men, that he might save all. Who is weak, he says, and I am not weak? (1 Cor. ix. 22; and 2 Cor. xi. 29.) Who is sick, with whom I am not sick? With the strong I am strong. You see how infirm the Apostle is when he is with the infirm, and how willingly he takes the indulgences necessary for their infirmities, to give them confidence in doing the same; but when he finds himself with the strong, he is like a giant in giving them courage: and if he can perceive that any one is scandalized with what he does, although it be permitted, nevertheless he has such a zeal for the peace and tranquility of his heart that he willingly abstains from doing it.

But, you will tell me, now that it is the hour of recreation I have a very great desire to go and meditate, in order to unite myself more intimately with the divine goodness. May I not reasonably think that the law which orders me to use the recreation does not bind me, since my mind is of itself sufficiently disposed to gaiety? Oh, no; you have neither a right to think so nor to say so. If you have no need of recreation for yourself, you ought never theless to use it for the sake of those who have need of it.

Chapter XLVI. OF THE VIOLATION OF THE RULES

Although some of the rules do not of themselves oblige under any sin, either mortal or venial, nevertheless whoever voluntarily breaks them from contempt, or to the scandal of others, commits without doubt a great offence, because he lowers and dishonours the things of God, gives the lie to his professions, fails of bringing forth fruits of good example: all which exposes him to some chastisement of Heaven, or at least to the deprivation of the graces and gifts of the Holy Ghost, which are ordinarily withdrawn from those who abandon their good intentions, and leave the good way in which God had placed them.

Now, he violates them from contempt who neglects them not only voluntarily, but of set purpose; from whence it follows, that he who so violates them not only disobeys, but wills to disobey. For example: it is forbidden to eat except at meals. If, then, any one happens to eat at other times, attracted by the pleasure of eating, then he disobeys, not from disobedience, but from sensuality; on the contrary, if he eats because he does not value the rule, and does not choose to make account of it, then he disobeys from contempt; and this disobedience is never without some sin, at least venial, even in things which are only counselled. For although one is at liberty not to follow the counsels of holy things, one cannot, nevertheless, leave them from contempt without committing sin, because if we are not obliged to do every thing that is good, we are nevertheless obliged to honour it, and, à fortiori, not to despise it.

He, moreover, who violates the rules from contempt considers them vile and useless, which is a great presumption; or if he considers them all useful, and yet does not choose to submit to them, he then breaks his intention, in which his neighbour has a great interest, to whom he gives scandal and bad example.

But that you may the better discern when a person violates the rules from contempt and scandal, the following are some marks of it:

1. When being corrected, he makes light of it, and has no repentance.

2. When he perseveres, without shewing any desire or intention of amendment.

3. When he maintains that the rule or the commandment does not apply.

4. When he tries to draw others into the same violation, and to take from them the fear of that violation, saying to them that it is nothing, and that there is no danger.

Chapter XLVII CONTINUATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT

It is, further, necessary to put you on your guard against a temptation which may happen in this matter: it is, that persons sometimes do not consider themselves disobedient, when they only despise one or two rules, which appear to them of little import ance, provided they observe all the others.But, my God, who does not see through this deceit? For what one person thinks of little value, another will esteem very highly; and vice versd. In the same way, if one religious were to disregard one rule, and a second another, and a third another, soon every thing would be in disorder; for when the mind of man is only guided by its inclinations and aversions, what happens to it but a perpetual inconstancy and variety of faults? Yesterday I was in high spirits—silence was disagreeable to me; to-day, if I am melancholy, recreation will be a burden to me: yesterday, when I was in consolation, the singing gave me pleasure; to-day, when I am in dryness, it will be displeasing to me: and so of the rest.

Hence, whoever wishes to live happily and perfectly must accustom himself to live according to reason, the rules, and obedience, and not according to his inclinations and aversions; and he must value all the rules, honour them, cherish them, at least by his superior will. For if he despises one of them now, to-morrow he will despise another of them, and the day after yet another; and when once the tie of duty is broken, everything which was bound by it, little by little, is destroyed and scattered.

God forbid that any one should ever stray so far from the path of God’s love as to go and lose himself in contempt of the rules, by disobedience, hardness and obstinacy of heart!

When you feel disgust or aversion for the rules, you ought to act as in other temptations, correcting the disgust and aversion by reason, and by a strong resolution of the superior part of the soul; waiting until God sends consolation, and makes the soul, cast down by disgust, perceive, like the wearied and fatigued Jacob, that the rules are the true ladder by which, in imitation of the angels, we ascend to God by charity, and descend by humility.

If it is through infirmity that a person breaks the rule, then he ought, at the instant, to humble himself before our Lord, and ask His pardon, renewing his resolutions; and he ought, above all, to take care not to fall into discouragement and disquietude, but with new confidence in God to return to His holy love.

If it is through negligence and carelessness, he may and ought to mention it in confession, as a thing in which there may be sin.

If it is through forgetfulness, and the matter is not of great importance, there is no sin at all in it, either great or small: I say, if the matter is not of great importance; for then one ought to keep one’s attention awake so as not to fall into forgetfulness, just as if the question was about attending to a sick man in danger of death.

We ought to believe that in proportion as the divine love makes progress in our souls, it will render us continually more exact and careful in the observance of the rules; for if they obliged us under penalty of death, how straitly would we observe them! But love is as strong as death; therefore the attractions of love are as powerful to make us execute a resolution as are the menaces of death.

Jealousy, says the holy canticle, is as hard as hell (Cant. viii. 6): the souls, then, that have this jealousy will do as much, or more, in virtue of this jealousy, than they would from the fear of hell; so that those who are conducted by the sweet violence of love will observe their rule, God assisting them, as exactly as if they were obliged to it under pain of eternal damnation.

Lastly, we ought always to remember these words: that he that keepeth the commandment keepeth his own soul; but he that neglecteth his own way shall die. (Prov. xix. 16.) Now the way of each one is that state of life in which God has placed him.

Chapter XLVIII. THAT WE OUGHT NOT TO GO BEYOND THE RULES

You ask me whether a sister who is of a strong constitution may not use more austerities than the others, with the permission of the superioress, but in such a way as that the others do not perceive it?

I reply to this, that there is no secret that is not conveyed secretly to another; and thus from one to another people end by forming religions in religions, and little cliques, and then all goes to ruin.

St. Teresa describes admirably well the evil caused by these little undertakings, which arise from the wish of doing more than the law ordains and the others do, especially if it is the superioress; for the moment that her daughters perceive it, they will be anxious to do the same; and they will not fail of finding out reasons to persuade themselves that they shall do it well, some urged on by zeal, and others to please her; and all this will prove a temptation to those who will not or cannot do the same.

One ought never to introduce, permit, or suffer these particularities, except in certain cases of special necessity; for example, if it happened that a sister was oppressed by some great temptation.

But if any sister were so generous and so courageous as to wish to arrive at perfection in a quarter of an hour, by doing more than the others, I would counsel her to humble herself, and to be content not to arrive at perfection under three days time, and to travel in company with the others.

If there are also sisters of stronger constitutions, all very well; but they must not for all that travel faster than those who are weak, according to the example of Jacob, who, returning from Mesopotamia, accommodated himself to the pace, not only of his little children, but even of his lambs. And by so doing, I assure you that you will not arrive a whit the more slowly at perfection; on the contrary, you will arrive there sooner, because, not having much to do, you will apply yourselves to do it with the utmost perfection possible for you.

I cannot express to you sufficiently of what importance it is to be punctual to the least little rule, as also not to desire to undertake anything beyond it, under any pretext whatever, because it is the means of preserving the religion in its totality, and in its first fervour; and the contrary is what destroys it, and makes it fall from its original perfection.

As for communions, it is no doubt more perfect to conform oneself to the community, unless it be incertain cases, such as the feast of our patron saint, or of any saint to whom we have had a devotion all our life, or in any very pressing necessity. But as for those little favours which we have sometimes, and which, generally speaking, are merely natural effects, which make us wish for communion, we ought to pay no attention to that, but conform to the community; otherwise, when we ought to communicate, self-love will suggest to us to abstain for the sake of humility; and when it is not the time for it, self-love will lead us to ask for communion; and thus there would be no end of it.

We ought not to reckon as inspiration things which are not in the rule, unless it be in cases so extraordinary, that perseverance makes us know that it is the will of God. I consider that it is a very great act of perfection to conform oneself in every thing to the community, and never, of our own choice, to depart from it. For what reason, think you, did our Lord and His most holy Mother submit themselves to the law of presentation and purification, unless because of the love they bore to the community? They were not at all obliged to it, but they desired to conform themselves to that which all the others observed, and not to be singular in anything.

But, you will say again, it is for the sake of mortification that you remain a little longer in choir than the others on festival-days, because the time has already seemed very long to you for the two or three hours together you have been there.

To this I reply, that it is not a general rule that one ought to do every thing to which one has a repugnance, any more than to abstain from things to which one has an inclination. For if a sister has an inclination to say the divine office, she ought not to give up assisting at it, under the pretext of wishing to mortify herself.

To conclude: the time on festivals which is left at liberty for you to use as you please, may be employed by each sister according to her devotion; but it is nevertheless true, that having remained three hours, and perhaps more, in choir with the community, there is much reason to fear that the quarter of an hour longer which you would spend there would be a little morsel that you would give to your self-love.

Chapter XLIX. OF PEACE AND TRANQUILITY IN THE MIDST OF AFFAIRS

I remember that you said to me how burdensome you felt the multiplicity of your affairs; and I said to you that it was an excellent means for the acquisition of true and solid virtues. It is a continual martyr dom, that of the multiplicity of affairs. For as the flies weary and annoy those who travel in summer more than the fatigue of the journey itself, so the diversity and multiplicity of affairs give more trouble than the weight of the affairs themselves.

You have need of patience; and I hope that God will give it to you, if you diligently ask it of Him, and force yourself to practise it faithfully, by preparing yourself for it every morning, by a special application of some point in your meditation, and resolving to settle yourself in patience throughout the course of the day, or as often as you feel yourself distracted with business.

Lose no occasion, however trifling, of exercising sweetness of heart towards any one. Do not reckon on being able to succeed in your affairs by your industry, but only by the assistance of God; and consequently repose yourself in His bosom, thinking that He will do what is best for you, provided that you use a sweet diligence on your part.

I say a sweet diligence, because there is a kind of violent diligence, which perils the heart and the business you transact. Such diligence does not deserve the name, but should rather be called anxiety and trouble. My God! we shall soon be in eternity, and then we shall see what a little matter are all the affairs of the world, and of how small consequence it was whether they were done or not done. Nevertheless, we now make ourselves anxious as though they were great things.

When we were little children, with what earnestness did we gather bits of tiles, wood, and clay, to build little houses with, and when any one destroyed them, we were greatly distressed at it, and wept , but now we know right well that all that was of little consequence.

We shall do the same in heaven one day, when we shall see that our interests in the world were all mere childishness.

I do not wish to take away the attention which we are bound to give to these little deceptions and trifles, for God has committed them to us in this world as exercises; but I would be glad to abate the ardour and vehemence of the pursuit. Let us pursue our childish occupations, since we are children, but let us not catch cold about them; and if any one throws down our little houses and designs, let us not be over-distressed; for when night comes, I mean death, and we must return to our homes, our little houses will all be useless. We must return to our Father’s house.

Attend diligently to your affairs; but know that you have no afiairs of greater importance than those of your salvation, and the paving of the way to a true and solid devotion. Have patience with all, but principally with yourself; I mean, do not make yourself unhappy about your imperfections, but always have courage to rise above them. I am very glad that you make a fresh beginning every day; there is no better means for achieving the spiritual life than always to recommence, and never to suppose that you have done enough.

Chapter L. OF PEACE IN THE MIDST OF CONTRADICTIONS

As for me, I have entrusted all these adverse winds to the providence of God. Let them blow hard or soft as they please, the tempest or the calm are to me indifferent. Blessed are ye when they shall speak all that is evil against you, untruly,for My sake. (St. Matt. v. 11.) If the world could find nothing to say against us, we should not be truly the servants of God. The other day, naming St. Joseph at Mass, I recalled to my mind that sovereign moderation which he shewed when he saw his incomparable spouse was found with child, whom he believed to be a most pure virgin; and I recommended to his prayers the mind and the tongue of those worthy gentlemen, that he might obtain for them a little of that sweetness and benignity; and presently afterwards it occurred to my spirit that our Lady in this perplexity did not say a word, did not excuse herself, did not distress herself, and the providence of God delivered her; and I recommended this affair to her, and resolved to leave it in her hands, and to keep myself tranquil. What, indeed, does one gain by opposing the winds and the waves, except worthless foam?

Oh, I must not be so tender over myself! I must be very willing to hear that people censure me. If I do not deserve it in one way, I deserve it in an other. The Mother of Him who merited eternal adoration never said one single word when she was charged with disgrace and ignominy. To sweet and patient hearts heaven and earth belong. You are too sensitive about me. Must I be the only person in the world exempt from attacks? I assure you that nothing has affected me so much on the present occasion as to see that you are affected. Have peace, and the God ofpeace shall be with you (2 Cor. xiii. 11); and He will trample underfoot the lion and the dragon (Ps. xc. 13); and nothing will trouble our peace if we are His servants.

There is much self-love in wishing that all the world should love us, and that every thing should turn out to our glory.

Do not glory in the affection of fathers who are in the world and of the world, but in that of the heavenly Father, who hath loved you, and hath given His Son for you. (St. John iii. 16.)