[A] Mother Anne Marguerite Clément.
Vive ✠ Jésus!
Annecy, 1632.
I have just come from holy communion, my dearest daughter, at which I blessed and thanked the God of infinite goodness for the loud call with which He has been pleased to bid you turn back to Him, and I besought Him with all the energy of my soul to keep so firm a hold upon you that nothing ever again may draw you away. For this I hope, dearest daughter, through His grace and your faithful co-operation. I cannot but think that your heart is too good ever to forget His superabundant mercies to you. Ponder often on that counsel given by both the Princes of the Apostles; Labour in fear and trembling by good works to make sure your vocation.[A] Your past miserable experience ought surely to make you tremble, and fearful of again falling, and very watchful in avoiding all occasions of temptation, especially those which you know to be most prejudicial, such as conversations, intimacies, affections, and communications with the outside world, and even with spiritual persons unless rarely and from true necessity. Then will it be your delight to find contentment in the instructions you will receive from the good Mother (Marie Angélique de Bigny), who has a singular love for you, and is besides both capable and full of charity. Her tears, fasts, austerities, and prayers so frequently offered to God on your behalf will, I doubt not, have touched His heart, and helped to achieve your conversion. To her will be given without fail every help requisite for your happiness, and by means of her will His Goodness lead you in the straight path. I have a strong belief that those who submit not themselves to the guidance of their Superiors submit not to God. In a word, apply yourself to do rather than to learn; this is my wish for you. We have in abundance holy and solid instructions in the Institute. For none better could we wish, and none are better adapted to lead us to the great perfection that our vocation demands. May the study and the practice of them henceforth be your delight. To this I conjure you so that by means of them you may offer to the divine Goodness fruits worthy of His mercy and to the Institute the perfume of a holy and sincere conversion. Thus will be assuaged the sorrow and shame that by your past disorders you have made it suffer, and all our hearts will be filled with consolation. So much do I feel consoled by the generous acts you have made[B] that my displeasure at the past is all gone, and I assure you you are now within my heart, where I cherish you most truly and affectionately, and believe me you will receive from all of the Institute and from me nothing but proofs of love and affection.
I think it would be well some months hence, when you have given yourself time to test your perseverance, that you should give testimony of it to the houses of the Institute by some humbly written note, to make satisfaction for your past misconduct. You have done well, dearest daughter, in giving yourself unreservedly to God. His Providence will not fail you nor permit you to be in want of anything. If the good sister who used to serve you is worthy of the favour you desire for her, most willingly can it be granted, but not till she has proved her perseverance in well-doing for some years. I pray God to shed abundantly upon you the assistance of His grace.
[A] "Labour the more that by good works you may make sure your calling and election." 2 Pet. i. 10.
"With fear and trembling work your own salvation." Phil. ii. 12.
[B] In the early part of the summer of this year, 1632, says the Mother de Chaugy, "it pleased God to open the eyes of the Benefactress of our monastery of Moulins by means of a dream. One night she dreamt that she saw a torch suddenly extinguished by someone at the moment it seemed to be trying to give forth more light. Taking this as a divine warning that her life would, when she least expected it, be thus suddenly extinguished, it evoked a keen remorse for her past conduct. She sought her Superior, and with every mark of genuine sorrow begged, for God's sake, to be permitted once more to enter the novitiate, of which petition the good Mother warmly approved. Sister Marie Aimée, now desiring to make public reparation for the scandal she had given, asked to do so at the open grille. This was allowed, and having there renewed her profession, she tore up the document containing the list of privileges which had been granted to her as Benefactress and Co-foundress with Madame de Gouffier. At the same time she begged to be allowed the favour of living as a simple religious, while confessing herself unworthy of such a grace. From this time she became the consolation and the edification of all her Sisters, an example of fidelity to the holy Rule, and for fifteen months her obedience, mortification, and piety were all that could be desired. At the end of that time the dream which had wrought her conversion was verified. She was taken suddenly ill, and had only time, before passing from this life, to implore the mercy of Him who came to save the repentant sinner."
Vive ✠ Jésus!
Annecy,
19th March, 1633.
Alas! Sir, what is this that I have just heard? That you are arrested and charged with fresh accusations! Our good God, in permitting so much affliction, can have no other design than by it to make you conformable to His beloved Son our most gentle Redeemer. If you shut your eyes to the things of earth and open them to eternal truths this tribulation, accepted with loving and patient submission, will, in the end, work a weight of glory and bring you solid peace. One single spark of this true honour is worth more, a million times, than all the prosperity that the world could offer, which, as you know, Sir, is all deceit and illusion. Ponder well over the accusations with which the most holy Son of the Eternal Father was charged, the pains that He suffered, followed as they were by a terrible and ignominious death. You are not more innocent than He. And all this He suffered for you, for me, for all ungrateful men, because it was the good pleasure of His Eternal Father, with a love, patience, and humility incomprehensible to us. So do you, Sir, seek to imitate this portion of His Passion. Lovingly embrace His will. Resign yourself absolutely to it. Place yourself and all your affairs in His hands, so that He may dispose of all according to His good pleasure....
I need not assure you of our prayers: both affection and duty claim them. May Our Lord be the joy and consolation of Madame, my most dear sister, and of yourself.
Always sincerely your very humble servant.
Feast of the glorious Saint Joseph, to whom I recommend you with all my heart.
Vive ✠ Jésus!
Annecy, 1633.
My very dear Daughter,
I hear that God is about to give you again the blessing of motherhood, and I like to console myself with the hope that you thank Him for this grace and for all the prosperity you enjoy, taking all from His hand who sends you these good things, not to be employed in pomp and vain display, but to make you advance in holy humility and loving fear of Him. Tell me, daughter, and tell me quite honestly and frankly, what are your sentiments upon this point? for I always have a certain dread that the atmosphere of this world's affluence and honours may smother us if we do not keep well before our minds the thought of their instability, the certainty that we must one day leave them, and the uncertainty of the coming of that day. Think often of death and of the blessed eternity those will enjoy who value true happiness above all perishable things. Impress these truths on your daughter, for they are the best and most permanent heritage that you can give her. Make her dearly prize the happiness of living in the holy love of God, and in the fear of offending Him. These things, as you know, I have always, from your tenderest years, striven to engrave on your heart, and especially did I advise you to fulfil all your duties towards your husband, as God ordains. This advice I now reiterate. You should give him all the satisfaction in your power. Tell me also your thoughts on this point. Ah! for the love of God, daughter, let not your head be turned by the honours and good things which you have in such abundance. I am told that you have become sarcastic. Believe me, dearest daughter, it is by Christian modesty and a gentle and gracious manner to all that you ought to make yourself known. Turning others into ridicule is not becoming in one of your position and age. Try to conquer and attract hearts by the means I have just pointed out, and to surpass all in prudence and holy reticence of action. Take this advice from your mother, who loves you and desires to see you altogether perfect in your station. May God give you the grace to be so!
On the Death of her Daughter-in-Law, Mme. de Chantal.[A]
Vive ✠ Jésus!
Annecy, 1633.
My very honoured Lord,
We have but to adore with profound submission the will of our good God, and lovingly to kiss the rod with which He chastises His elect. Yes, indeed, notwithstanding all the repugnance of nature, I praise and thank Him a thousand times, because He is our good God, who sends us with the same love joys and sorrows, and even for the most part causes greater profit to come to us through affliction than through prosperity. Yet is it not strange that knowing and experiencing this we should feel so keenly as we do the death of those we love?—for I own to you that upon opening the little note that announced the death of my poor dear daughter I was so overcome that had I been standing I think I should have fallen. I never remember any previous sorrow to have had the effect of this note upon me. O! my Jesus! What a climax of grief it has been to my poor feeble heart and how your trouble has added to mine! It is most natural that you should feel it as you do, and at your age too; what a sweetness and support you have lost in this daughter who so lovingly looked after your health and every want of yours. All this makes me suffer more than I can say, for whatever touches you touches me acutely. But when I reflect that by means of these privations, lovingly accepted, our good God wishes to be Himself everything to us, and that the least advance we make in His love is worth more than all the world with all its joys, and that in those sharp trials which deprive us of our sweetest pleasure He prizes above all the union of our will with His—truly, I say, when I consider these things, I find myself impelled to acknowledge that the more sorrows that come upon one the more is one favoured by God. I hope that before now you will yourself have received this light and found comfort in it. First emotions [of grief], my beloved and dearest Lord, are inevitable, and our sweet Saviour is not offended by them. But I trust that after them He will abundantly fill you with consolations; this I pray for unceasingly. Distract yourself as much as you can and let the confident hope that we shall be united in a blessed eternity fortify you. The virtuous life and holy death of our dearly loved daughter gives strong hope that in God's mercy she is already in this enjoyment. We are after all here only to prepare for future happiness, and the sooner we possess it the happier for us.
I am writing to M. and Mme. de Coulanges, to whom this terrible loss must have been a great blow. I believe they will take into their heart the poor little orphan[B] and always keep her there. Verily when my thoughts turn to her I have to hold them in. I trust that God, to whom I confide her, will be Father and Protector to her, and I give her up to the care of the Blessed Virgin with all my heart.
Our Sisters of both Convents upon this occasion have forgotten nothing. Besides their own love for the dear deceased they also felt very much for your sorrow in her loss and for mine. There is some comfort in knowing that she is to be left, with the heart of my poor son, in the care of the Sisters. Your judge of Nantua told me the other day that you are at N. I was very glad, my dear Lord, to hear it, as it will help to give you the distraction that you ought to seek.
My Lord,
Yours, etc.
[A] The young Baroness de Chantal died August 20th, 1633, and was buried in the vault at the Visitation Monastery, Rue St. Antoine.
[B] Marie de Chantal, afterwards Mme. de Sévigné.
Vive ✠ Jésus!
[Date not given.]
My very dear Daughter,
Your letter consoles me, for it tells me with what patience you have accepted your cross, and what profit, by your submission to the good pleasure of God, you are drawing from it. He, it may be, deprives you of the light of the body in order to make you more abundantly enjoy that of the spirit, and this is a great motive for blessing Him. As a saint once said to one who was blind and very holy: "There is nothing to be proud of in bodily sight; we have it in common with the beasts; but we may well rejoice in God's having given us the interior light by which we see and know His goodness." I am very glad that our good Sisters are so affectionately attentive in their care of you, as this gives you pleasure. I envy them in having the opportunity, for, I must tell you, what will perhaps console you. I have always set very little value on corporal sight, being of opinion that, except for the reading of good books and somebody else's devotions, it is a hindrance rather than a help in the spiritual life, so it is almost more desirable to be without it than to enjoy it, as in its absence the interior sight remains firmer, more purified from external objects, and more solidly fixed on God. This is indeed the only thing, it seems to me, worth desiring. If, nevertheless, you feel inspired to ask your cure of God, do so, but always with your former resignation, and pray for her who is all, etc.
[A] From "Sainte Chantal: Pensées et Lettres." P. Téqui, 29, rue de Tournon, Paris. 1899.
Vive ✠ Jésus!
Annecy, 1633.
God bless you, my dearest daughter, for the good news you send me of the convalescence of the good prelate....
To return to yourself, whom I so dearly love. Repose in peace in your state of spiritual poverty. Blessed are the poor, for God will reclothe them. How happy should we be if our hearts were stript of all that is not God, and if we loved so to be. What a blessed thing it is to be in obscurity, with no devotion, no spiritual enlightenment, no consolation from creatures. Oh, my daughter, when a soul finds herself in this state, what can she do save hide herself like a little fledgeling, and nestle under the wing of her good mother Providence, remaining hidden there, not venturing to come out for fear the kite might capture her—this, then, is your place of repose where there is naught to fear, and in what better place could you be? And what richer clothing could you have than to be covered beneath the shelter of the sweet providence of your heavenly Father? Dwell there, and be well content to possess this singular privilege. You know, my daughter, that you have a place in my heart from which no one can ever dislodge you.
Yours, etc.
[A] Sister Bonne Marie de Haraucourt, whose memory is venerated in the Visitation Order, spent her youth in the midst of the gaieties of the Court of Lorraine without ever reflecting that she had a Jesus to imitate or a heaven to gain. On terms of intimacy with the Duchess Nicloe, wife of Charles IV., this girl became intoxicated with the flattery by which she was surrounded because of her beauty and her wit, when of a sudden the same words that converted the great Arsenius, "Fuge, Tace, Quiesce,"* fell upon her ear. The arrival of St. Jane Frances in Lorraine at the moment (1626) was propitious, and the young Court favourite made no delay in answering the call. With mingled feelings of joy at the thought of the great sacrifice, and of dread of what it entailed, she offered herself to the Saint. Soon after the arrival of Mademoiselle de Haraucourt at the Visitation of Pont-a-Mousson, the flower of the younger ladies of the Court, captivated by her example, followed her there, where, regardless of the opinion of the world, they led a life hidden with God. After seven years of solitude and prayer, Sister Bonne Marie was sent to help Mother P. J. Favrot in the reform of the Penitentiary at Nancy, and she obtained leave to found there a Convent of her own Order, with the holy desire to perpetuate in this town, where she feared to have so much offended in the past, a homage of unceasing reparation.
The Princes of Lorraine, and the Court, cherished and protected the new foundation, but soon after, the horrors of the Swedish war and the consequent departure of the Princess, left the little Community in a most pitiable state of destitution. Elected Superior at this critical time, Sister Bonne Marie, by the heroism of her faith, wrought wonders equal to those of great miracle-workers amongst the Saints. When no longer Superior, this holy Nun, by the force of her example, was the life and soul of her Convent at Nancy, as she had been the joy and support of Mother Favrot at Pont-a-Mousson. She died February 26th, 1666. (Année Sainte, Vol. II).
* Fly, be silent and be at peace.
Vive ✠ Jésus!
Annecy, 1633.
My dearest Daughter,
Your letter by which I see that you are in the midst of suffering fills me with compassion. However, the Superior[B] being such as she is, I do not think it desirable to remove you at present, for your absence would, I fear, make matters worse.
You ought to follow faithfully the attraction you mention in your last letter of wishing to live in profound humility in order to imitate more perfectly the divine Saviour who was subject not only to His Father but to His children, to His creatures. As you know, they did not treat Him well, but with infinite contempt and opprobium, and all this suffering He bore without complaint. If, then, you have the courage to suffer in humility, sweetness, patience, silence, all that presents itself to you, I most truly believe that by so doing you will become holy, that your service will be agreeable to the divine Majesty, will work great good to the Institute, and in particular to your own house.
These little things you mention to me, that the Mother does not wash the dishes, and does not sweep, I should take no notice of, except to bring them to her notice just once in a casual way and humbly. But when you remark important things, tell her of them with gentleness and affection, and try to win her heart, for if you once gain that you can do as you will with her. Neglect nothing that you think could further this end. With my pen as with my whole heart I beseech you to do all you possibly can to remedy this evil. You see how it is, beloved daughter; the older Sisters do not like to be the fault-finders. I gather this from their letters, and I see also that they fail in humility and respect towards the Mother. Certainly when a Sister, whoever she may be, is in charge as Mother, the same obedience and respect should be given to her as to her predecessor. To act otherwise is to prove that we have no virtue and that we do not, as is our duty, regard God in the creature. So should it be when she is in office. And when she is no longer Superior let us cherish her as a sister, and keeping ourselves in humility, meddle as little as possible with anything. If it is requisite to admonish it ought to be done with such respect and charity that no harm can come of it. In a word, as you would wish that others should act towards you if you were Superior, so do you to them. I assure you, dearest daughter, it grieves me more than I can tell you when I know that the newly elected Mothers and the Sisters deposed are not in harmony; for it is clear as noon-day that this comes from a want of humility. Wherever such a misfortune exists it is the ruin of peace and of the observance of the Rule, and that house is no longer held in good esteem.
May God put His hand to this reformation. If I outlive my term of office I am resolved to keep myself so much in the background, and so ignorant of the affairs of the house that I can give umbrage to no one. Should I see wrong I shall certainly speak of it, but with all possible gentleness and humility, and having done so, if it is not put right I shall hold my tongue until the [Ecclesiastical] Superior's visit, then I shall simply represent the matter without exaggeration to him. To conclude, dearest daughter, do everything God suggests to you for the good of your Convent and for peace. Charity remedies all things. I am writing a long letter to the (Mother) Superior. Receive all I say as coming from a heart that only desires your good, and is entirely,
Yours, etc.
[A] In the Visitation Order the former Superior upon the election of her successor is called "Sister Deposed."
[B] Mother Marie Michel Gervain was not re-elected.
Vive ✠ Jésus!
[Date not given.]
Now see, my most dear Brother, how you have fallen into the state to which I always feared your great fervour would reduce you. And yet you say that you fear to flatter yourself and are not sufficiently on your guard against your own cowardliness. My true Father, for the love of God make no such reflections: for believe me all these little apprehensions that you are not doing enough are not half so pleasing to God as would be your submission in accepting the relief you require both for body and mind. God only wants your heart. Our uselessness and powerlessness when lovingly accepted through reverence and devotion to His most holy will are more agreeable to Him than if we were perpetually doing violence to ourselves by great works of penance. Indeed, as you know, it is the height of perfection to will in regard to ourselves as God wills. And since He has given you a delicate constitution He wishes you to take care of it, so do not want to exact from it what He in His gentleness does not ask. A mild and tranquil inaction is what He requires of you, resting near Him, without paying any attention whatsoever either to the suggestions of your understanding or the movements of your will, unless it be to say some words of love, fidelity, and simple acquiescence offered gently and tranquilly without effort, and without desire to feel consolation or satisfaction in them. This practised with peace and repose of spirit will be very agreeable to God, more so, I think, than anything else you could do. Bear this state then, letting it take the place of the excessive application of mind which has reduced you to your present condition. Just one word more. Believe me, if instead of the four or five hours which you spend every day on your knees you would spend one hour—that is a quarter of an hour after rising, another in preparation for holy Mass, the same in thanksgiving, and one short quarter for the evening examen—that should be quite sufficient. Try for the love of God, by repose of body and mind, and by taking plenty of good nourishing food, to regain your former strength. If I did not feel it my duty to make this request I should not be writing to you so soon. And I trust through your goodness and all your fatherliness towards us that, for our consolation, you will not overlook anything which you feel may help towards your recovery, or that you think will make you stronger in the future. I have not written to our charming and lovable dearest daughter,[B] because she does not know of your illness.
A word to the good mother, who, though we write seldom to each other, I know to be so dear to you in Our Lord.
I pray God in His mercy to preserve you for many years for the service of His glory and the happiness of our Congregation. Amen.
I am, Sir,
Yours, etc.
[A] Noël Brulart, Commander of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem (better known in the correspondence of St. Jane Frances as the Commander de Sillery), after a brilliant career at Court, where as Ambassador to the courts of Spain and Rome he displayed all the pride and splendour that his great revenues enabled him to gratify, fell under the influence of St. Vincent de Paul, and the Visitation Nuns, by whom he was excited to a higher ambition, and in 1632, in the fifty-fourth year of his age, giving up his worldly career, became a Priest and consecrated his wealth to relieving the unfortunate and furthering the interests of religion. A generous benefactor to the Visitation Order, amongst many other gifts he built the Church of the first monastery of Paris (designed by Mansard), where he was buried. It is now, alas! the Protestant temple of the Rue St. Antoine, near the Bastille. Commander de Sillery closed a life of rare sanctity on the 26th Sep., 1640, in the sixty-third year of his age. The above letter is taken from the "Lettres de Ste Jeanne Françoise Frémoit de Chantal." Tournei edition. J. Casterman, 1848.
[B] Presumably Mother Marie Jacqueline Favre.
Vive ✠ Jésus!
Annecy, 1634.
I see by your letter that you are in great grief, and it touches me deeply. There is no doubt about it, your troubles are great, and viewed in this world's judgement they are of a very distressing nature. But look up, above these low and wretched passing things, to that blessed eternity in which is to be found great and endless consolation, and you will be glad that those for whom you mourn are in the happy possession of it, and a sweet peace will fill your heart amidst the vicissitudes of this mortal life. Ah! when shall we give a little reflection to these truths of faith? When shall we, dearest daughter, relish the sweetness of the divine will? When shall we see in all that happens to us the good pleasure of God? Whether He sends prosperity or adversity, He intends all equally for our greater good, and gives all with a love which to us is incomprehensible. But, miserable creatures that we are, we turn into poison the remedies meant for our cure. Let us not do this any more, rather let us lovingly submit like obedient children and co-operate with the designs of our heavenly Father, whose only aim in sending us affliction is to unite us more intimately to Himself. If we so act, He will be all to us, He will take the place of brother, son, husband, mother, of all things. Take courage from these strengthening thoughts. I pray Our Lord to give you a knowledge of the rich treasures which He, in His goodness, shuts up in the afflictions He sends us.
Vive ✠ Jésus!
Annecy, 1634.
The state of your mind, which you narrate with so much simplicity, is incomparably better and safer than if you were overflowing with consolations and sensible love of God. This interior peace, this stability in God, these lights, which although slight, transient, and devoid of definite reasoning, yet retain the soul in the state in which God has placed her, are all infallible marks that He reigns in you, and give great hope that His goodness desires to lead you in a wholly intellectual way to a state of great purity and simplicity; hence you should, I think, my dearest brother, seek no other devotion than looking unto God purely and simply, and letting Him accomplish His will in you. This Divine Saviour being the only object of your affections and desires, the solitary pleasure of your heart, all that He will accomplish in you will be for His greater glory, and for your own sanctification. Be, then, as content to be powerless, idle, dry, and arid before God, as if you were actively at work, and in the enjoyment of His gifts of devotion and contentment. As all consists in union with God one state ought to be as pleasing to you as another. Age and health no longer permitting you to be active, you will apparently have to spend the remainder of your days in this heavenly exercise by which your mind will be renewed. So will you be uninterruptedly employed in the love and repose of God, and I believe that the fruit which will result therefrom will enrich your soul, give glory to His divine Majesty, and even edification to your neighbour, for this salutary exercise teaches contempt of all earthly things, and is a great proof to the world of the true piety and happiness that are to be so completely found in God.
[A] Taken from the "Life of Noël Brulart de Sillery," Paris, at the Monastery of the Visitation of Holy Mary, Rue d'Enfer-Saint-Michel, 72. 1843.
Vive ✠ Jésus!
1634.
You wish, my very dear daughter, to have in writing my desires in your regard. Here they are.[A] The strongest longing I have is that you should live as a true Christian widow, modest in dress, reserved in action, and above all in conversation. On this account you must avoid having to do with vain and worldly young men. If you do otherwise, my dearest daughter, although by the grace of God I hold your virtue to be unapproachable and feel surer of it than of my own, it might easily be sullied, and your conduct would surely be criticised when it became known that you receive such persons and take pleasure in their society. I beseech of you, trust me in this. Your honour and my own and my peace of mind are involved. I know well that there is no living in this world without some sharing in the pleasures it offers, but, believe me, you will never find stable enjoyment save in God, in virtue, and in a just and reasonable attention to the education of your children, to the management of their affairs, and to the care of your household. If you seek it elsewhere you will have a thousand tribulations of heart and mind. Well do I know this. I would not have you refuse the lawful pleasure that is to be found in the upright conversation of the virtuous and in their visits, although in the circumstances in which God has placed you it would be desirable to receive visitors but rarely. In a word, dearest child, for God's glory, for the love and reverence you owe to the memory of your dear husband, for the preservation of your good name, and the edification of your daughter, who, without doubt, models herself upon you, you must keep your inclinations a little in check, submitting them to God, to reason, to your own well-being and to that of your children. You must also bear in mind what is due and becoming to your birth and your condition and to the comfort of your neighbours. You will be greatly helped in this by faithfully following the little practices of devotion of which I have spoken to you, and which I will now again set down.
Upon awakening in the morning, turn your thoughts to God present everywhere, and place your heart and your whole being in the hands of His goodness. Then think briefly on the good that it will be in your power to do that day, and the evil you should avoid, above all on that defect to which you are most subject, resolving by the grace of God to do good and avoid evil. Having risen from bed, kneel on your bed, or elsewhere, and adore God from the depths of your soul, thanking His goodness for all the graces and benefits that He has bestowed upon you, for a moment's reflection will show you how you are surrounded by His mercies and what a special care He has had of you. This thought ought indeed to touch your heart, which offer Him anew with your resolutions, affections, thoughts, words and works of that day, in union with that sacred offering which our divine Saviour made of Himself upon the tree of the cross, and ask Him for His holy grace and assistance to guide you through the day. Beg afterwards for His holy blessing with that of the Blessed Virgin, of your good angel and your holy patrons, saluting them by a simple inclination of the head and an interior act of reverence. All this can be done in the space of two Paters and Aves. Next, do not waste time over your toilette. As far as possible assist at holy Mass every day as attentively and devoutly as you can by using such holy considerations as are taught in Philothea.[B] If you cannot be present at Mass hear it spiritually as the same book teaches. Philothea ought to be your book of predilection and your spiritual guide. Either during holy Mass, if you cannot give other time, or at some other hour, withdraw a little into some quiet place every morning, and make about a quarter of an hour's prayer from your heart, placing yourself in God's presence, or at His sacred feet, or at those of the most holy Virgin, as a daughter before her father or her dear mother, and converse with the divine Majesty in humble, filial confidence. Do this either by reflecting on some mystery of Faith, or in accordance with some need you may have, or as your mind suggests. Conclude all by an act of great desire of loving and pleasing God, renewing your holy resolutions and invoking His grace. Let your chief care be to do everything with purity of intention, and often offer up your actions to God by holy affections, frequently calling to mind His goodness as He will suggest or your own heart will dictate.
Read every day for a quarter or half an hour some spiritual book, preferably Philothea. Before supper, either walking about or retiring apart, place yourself in the hands of God by some holy aspirations. Before going to bed examine your conscience and, prostrate before God, adore, thank, and invoke Him, offering Him your soul. If you are able, add the Litany of Our Lady, your attendants making the responses. Communicate at least on each first Sunday of the month and on the chief feasts, such as those of Our Lord, and our Lady, and the feast of St. Joseph, to whom I wish you to be devout.
Try to subdue your passions and bring them and your inclinations under the law of reason and of the holy will of God: otherwise you will never have anything but trouble and uneasiness of soul. God permits or sends to His predestined children, for their good and as a means of bringing them to His glorious beatitude, the afflictions and contradictions of this life. My dearest daughter, if you are so happy as sweetly and patiently to accept all that He sends, then be assured you will begin to taste even here on earth something of the delights of the blessed eternity of glory. But for this you must serve God willingly and love Him supremely, seeking His pleasure, choosing His divine will through holy obedience in preference to your own will, desires, or inclinations.
May God in His sweet goodness grant you this grace, dearest daughter; I unceasingly implore it of Him from my heart, which is that of one who loves you as her own with her entire capacity for loving. Amen.
[A] These counsels had been given verbally by St. Jane Frances to Madame de Toulonjon at the time of her sojourn at Annecy, where she came to pass the first months of her widowhood, and the Saint at the request of her daughter wrote them down for her so that she might be able often to read them over, and thus more faithfully adhere to her mother's pious recommendations.
[B] "The Introduction to a Devout Life," by St. Francis de Sales, Chapter XIV. of the second part.
Vive ✠ Jésus!
Paris, 1635.
Daughter dear,
You attribute everything to your negligence! Accept the good that comes to you, and when God withdraws Himself do not run after Him. You are always doing His will provided you keep yourself under His hand without desiring anything whatsoever save to do His will. These doubts against Faith that you tell me of He permits so that you may make frequent acts of this virtue. For you see, my daughter, He only sends temptations to souls whom He intends to raise to high perfection. All the doubts and fears lest you may have consented come from the evil spirit. Pay no heed to them, unless to say, "Get thee behind me, Satan, for I am at peace in God."
[A] Marie Aimée de Rabutin possessed all the caustic wit for which the de Rabutins were distinguished, and had no other thought than of pleasure and of her independence, until St. Jane Frances won her to Christ. "Make haste, my daughter," she said to her, "for God is the enemy of delay." From the entrance of Mademoiselle de Rabutin into the Monastery of Annecy (1624) her fervour was without bounds, and were it not for obedience her austerities would have shortened her life. When she was elected Superior at Thonon St. Jane Frances said to the outsister who came to fetch her: "Make the most of the time your new Superior rules you, for you have never had and perhaps never will have her equal." She governed several monasteries and died in 1678. Her praises are summed up in these words of St. Jane Frances: "When once Mother Marie Aimée returns to Annecy she must not be taken away again, for although she is my relative, I cannot help saying that she has always been a living rule and a model of perfect observance." (Archives of the Visitation, Annecy.)
Vive ✠ Jésus!
Valence,
2nd July, 1636.
My most honoured, beloved, and dearest Father,
I certainly have no wish to delay in answering your kind and cordial letter, which gives such a lucid account of the finale of this wicked affair[A], and above all of the good odour of those little servants of the Lord, our Sisters of the Faubourg, and of the reparation made to them. Oh! how good God is! and how prompt in coming by ways which confound the prudence of the worldly-wise to the succour of the innocent. For the greatness of His mercies may He be for ever blessed! You must have been deeply moved in the goodness of your heart on witnessing such a marked and fatherly interposition of Providence in this grave crisis. Truly happy are the souls who repose entirely in the pitying and loving bosom of this heavenly Father. You cannot think what this grace has wrought in my heart towards God, whom we can never sufficiently thank for it, and towards you, my very dear Father, for the incomparable assistance which you have given these poor daughters of mine. It is quite impossible to express to you what I feel, and always shall feel, for the succour and the support in all our necessities which God has given us through you is a priceless treasure from which we draw both spiritual and temporal profit. May the sweet Saviour bless you with His richest graces and recompense you with His divine love. My poor Sisters needed this experience so that they might learn to trust themselves entirely to your paternal care. They have written to me expressing their gratitude and begging of me to help them to return you fitting thanks. It is a sweet Providence, I cannot but think, that has permitted the evil act of that miserable man, so that by means of it a more complete union should be established between our two monasteries (of Paris), and that Our Lord should have made use of you as the bond of union, for they themselves recognize this and write of it to me. God be blessed! This story deserves to be recorded for posterity. But if it is possible I should be glad to know every circumstance of it in detail, for from certain things that have been written to me, it seems as if this man took the money to invest it for the benefit of our Sisters. I want to know the truth about this, and for what object it was confided to him. My Sister, the Superior of the Faubourg, tells me that on Sunday evening when I had said adieu to her, M. de Lamoignon took fifty-four thousand francs of it to buy an office for his son. I am asking Sister to write to me about this matter, for you must not trouble to do so....
We have visited our houses of Pont-Saint-Esprit, Avignon, Montpellier, Arles, Aix, and Marseilles, where certainly everything is blessed, and in all of which the observance is kept with great exactitude. It is most consoling to see on all sides how the Sisters love and esteem their vocation. All these houses have excellent Superiors. When at Aix we saw those of Digne, Draguignan, Grasse, and Forcalquier. The four are invaluable Mothers capable of putting their hands to anything in which divine Providence may employ them, and of rendering all manner of good service to God and the Institute.
We also met at Aix the Superiors of Sisteron, Apt, and Toulon, humble and virtuous souls, but not possessing the useful talents of the first four. In returning from Provence I stopped at our house of Crest, where I again found very good Sisters with a young Mother of thirty, but of a capable mind, judicious and zealous. She keeps straight to the grand road of the Rule, "for fear," she says, "of going astray." She gave me great satisfaction. Now I am at Valence, where it appears to me the community is feeling somewhat the effects of having had young Superiors for eight years in succession; nevertheless they keep to the exterior observance and manifest an ardent desire to profit by our stay. I have not yet spoken with them, but I intend to do so. The Superior is good, gentle, capable, and willing, but is wanting in experience; this, please God, will come. These Sisters are in need of one who is firm and experienced. I hope, as next year will be that of their election, that God will look after them in this matter according to their needs.
Pardon my bad writing, but I forget half I wish to say. We went from Marseilles to Sainte-Baume, a place of great devotion.
Always your very humble, obedient, and obliged daughter, and servant in Our Lord.